“I even thought you considered it sinful to care for the person. They say that the chief merit of some ascetic saints consisted in their carrying a thousand inhabitants on their persons; and having their hair and beards—colonized!”
Instead of getting angry at my impertinence, the friar burst into the heartiest laugh I ever heard in a man’s mouth.
“So that’s what you thought,” he said, when his mirth would allow him to speak. “And you, who appear to be so well informed a young fellow, don’t you know what the glorious St. Teresa used to say? Why, she would bathe herself thoroughly, and then exclaim, ‘Lord, make my soul like my body!’ So you thought that all we friars were stupid pigs! No wonder you felt startled when you met me! Have you ever met any friars except your humble servant?”
“To tell the truth, you are the first I ever met in my life. Furthermore, I thought you no longer existed. Of course, it was nonsense; for I know that they are re-peopling the convents of various orders in Spain. But, honestly, I had the fancy that friars were only to be found in paintings, in the figures in churches, and, consequently—but it was all a mistake, of course.”
“Well, here you see a live one. It is the same with friars as with the rest of the world, and you will readily understand that there are many different tastes and dispositions, though all are governed by the same rule. Some are careless, while others pay more attention to dress. But, as you are aware, our sacred garb does not allow us to carry about many perfumery bottles, or an array of essences and pomades. How nice a friar would look using Fay’s wash, or Kananga—or what the deuce do they call that perfume which is so much the rage just now?”
“I see that you know all about it, Father,” I exclaimed, laughing in my turn.
“It is because I am often with some very stylish and elegant ladies. Don’t feel surprised that I desire to clear myself, and all poor little friars, of the bad reputation you give us. Just fancy, our Holy Founder was so fond of water that he even composed some fine verses proclaiming it pure and clean! I speak to you with entire frankness; I do like neat people, but I don’t like excessive care of the person. That seems to me sickening and disgusting. Goodness! This wasting a half hour by a young fellow in trimming and polishing his nails—that may pass in a woman,—but for a man who wears a beard—bah!”
As he said this, the friar folded his arms, and turned toward me, as if tired and wanting to rest.
In the reddish light of the setting sun which so clearly defines the form, I could see that his was in perfect harmony with that profession of manly faith. He was robust, without being stout, and of good height, without being very tall. His dark, olive complexion indicated a bilious temperament, and his skin was bronzed by journeying exposed to the blazing sun. His very black eyes were quick, lively, and well-shaped; with a piercing look which seemed to search the very depths of your soul. His neck, left uncovered by his tonsure, indicated strength; and so did his hands, large, strong, and flexible—hands which might serve alike gently to elevate the Host, or to use the spade, the cudgel, or the musket, in case of need. His features did not belie his hands, and were drawn as though by a skilled sculptor; uniting that calmness and firmness to be seen in certain statues. On his upper lip and in the middle of his chin he had two dimples, which almost always indicate a kindly heart, destined to modify a naturally severe disposition. I even noticed his ears, which were wide and almost flexible, like a confessor’s—ears with a great deal of character, such as ecclesiastics usually have.
“What a friar he is! What a vigorous nature he seems to have!” I kept thinking in surprise.