"We, who have passed our lives in the country, smother in cities. See, Martin, how blue the sky is, listen to the singing of the birds amid the trees of that dell, and smell the fragrance of the plants which grow around us."
"This morning reminds me of the one on which we left Cabra, the day following the arrival of the count, whom it cost so little to have it restored to him."
"They say that Andalucia is a fairer land than Castile, and certainly its fields are more fertile and its sky clearer, but may God grant it to me to live and die in our famed Castile, for there is no country equal to one's native land."
"So say I also, Guillen; besides, in our Castile there are abundance of fertile plains, luxuriant woods, and fragrant flowers; we also have a clear sky and a brilliant and life-giving sun. Castile is, above all others, the land of chivalry, of honour, and of glory. If Andalucia has an advantage over Castile in its soil, it has not such with regard to its inhabitants; here we let our souls be seen as naked as our fields; there they show their souls concealed with foliage and flowers, like the fields of that land; as in our land we have permitted scarcely any infidels to dwell, we have preserved pure the blood of the cavaliers of Covadonga and Roncesvalles."
"It delights me to wander along the banks of the Guadalquiver, for on them the trees and flowers are most beautiful; but it delights me more to walk on the banks of the Ebro, of the Tormes, and of the Duero, for they are filled with the memories of brave cavaliers and glorious feats of arms."
"We cannot envy any who dwell in Spain, for God has given us honours, of which we can justly feel proud, and great natural riches which we can enjoy."
"And love adorns all, Martin; for my part, I can say that love causes me to see flowers where others can only see rocks, palaces where there are only huts, and angels where there are but human beings. Does it not seem a great happiness to you to have souls that feel as ours do, and to love so well the land in which we were born?"
"And above all," said Martin, smiling pleasantly, "the love of maidens, so worthy of being loved as your noble Doña Teresa and my humble Beatrice."
Guillen sighed, and there disappeared from his face the joy which, till then, had shone on it.
"Happy you, who can see, as often as you like, her whom you love!" exclaimed the lover of the Infanta of Carrion.