creature, to whom nature has been so illiberal!"
"Mighty fine words! —a very delicate mode of expressing it!" cried the priest scornfully. "Let me tell you, young man, that such sentiments are marrow to the bones of these sorcerers and liars. But look, here comes the scarecrow—I cannot bear even to look upon him, much less could I endure to converse with him. Well and wisely has it been said, Cave quos Deus ipse notavit."
Berecynth, who had caught up these last words, came skipping forwards. "Is your beauty, then, my good sir," said he "so transcendent as to entitle you to pronounce such severe judgments upon others? My master, who is a handsome, majestic man, entertains no such harsh, illiberal notions. What! you little, stunted, rickety, red-nosed, snivelling abortion —you wry-mouthed, wrinkled old wretch, it is truly a good one to hear you preaching about my ugliness! Why, you miserable dwarf your head is hardly on a level with the pulpit cushion when you are holding forth there; and you dare not cross the street when the wind blows, such spindles are your shanks. The congregation cannot even see you when you are gesticulating before the altar, and require all their Christian faith to believe that you are really present; and yet this mannikin, this nonentity, is talking big here, as if he were a Goliah. Believe me, I could cut as good a priest as you are, any day, out of my own nose, to say nothing of the hump I carry both in front and rear."
The enraged priest had withdrawn before the conclusion of this attack, and Antonio was about to chide Berecynth for his petulant behaviour, when the latter cried out, "A truce with your moralizing—I can stand that at the hands of no man except my own master, and he beats the world at morality, philosophy, and all that sort of thing. But this weathercock monk here, who goes creaking round on the pivot of envy and malignity, because he perceives that his authority and prosperity are declining before the influence of my glorious master—he, let me tell you, shall never be permitted to open his toothless gums in my presence, without my bringing all my jaw to bear upon him; and let me add, that from a young student like yourself I can abide no contradiction; for I had begun to shave long before your father was out of his baby-clothes, and I was a boy at school before your illustrious grandsire was breeched, therefore show respect where respect is due, and remember whose presence you are in."
"Do not be angry, my little man," said Antonio—" I mean you well."
"Mean what you please!" said Berecynth. "My master is now prelate—do you know that! —and rector of the university; and a new gold chain of office has just been sent to him from Paris. You must come and see him, for he is about to set out upon a journey, and wishes to converse with you before he starts. A word in your ear—you must be shyer of priests' company if you would be a philosopher."
So saying, the dwarf hirpled off; and Antonio turning to his friend. the young Spaniard Alphonso, who had that moment joined him, said, "I never know, when conversing with that abortion, whether he is in jest or earnest, he appears to make such scornful sport of himself and all other creatures."
"That," answered Alphonso, "is by way of comforting and compensating himself for his own ungainliness. In his scornful imagination he conceives all other people to be like himself. But have you heard of the new honours which have been bestowed upon our great teacher?"
"The world," returned Antonio, "recognises his lofty worth; and since our holy father the Pope has now made him a prelate, that surely ought to tie the tongues of all those envious priests and monks who have never ceased traducing this excellent and pious man."
The friends parted, and Antonio hastened to take farewell of his teacher for some days. The dwarf received him at the door with a grinning attempt to appear cordial
Chap. VII.
The Purple Chamber.
Twilight bad now set in, and Antonio. after Berecynth had left him, went in quest of his teacher. Finding him neither in the hall nor the library,
