The duke, after having received the congratulations which each one offered him on his happy return and cure, placed himself near the countess, and commenced the recital of events which the reader already knows.
Then, after having spoken much of Stein and Marisalada, he finished by saying, he had persuaded them to come and establish themselves at Seville, to become known and useful, he by his knowledge, and she by the extraordinary faculties with which nature had endowed her.
“It was badly done,” earnestly interrupted General Santa-Maria.
“Why so, my uncle?” asked the countess.
“Because these people were living contented, without ambition; and which once broken up will never more be the same. Do you recollect the Spanish comedy, the title of which has passed into a proverb: ‘Ninguno debe dejar lo cierto por lo dudoso.’ ” (Never quit a certainty for an uncertainty.)
“Do you believe, my uncle, that this woman, gifted with a voice so remarkable, can regret the oyster bank where she vegetated without glory, without profit to herself, or to society, or to the arts?”
“Come, my niece, would you seriously make us believe that human society would make much progress because a woman exhibits herself on the boards, and sings Di tanti palpiti?”
“Go along,” said the countess, “we see very well that you are not musical.”
“And I greatly thank the Lord that I am not so,” replied the general. “Would you that, like so many others, I lose my judgment by this melomaniac furor, by this deluge of notes which is showered on Europe like an avalanche, according to the expression now-a-days. Would you that I go, thanks to my stupid enthusiasm, and swell the excessive pride of those kings and queens of harmony? Would you that my money serve to increase their colossal receipts, while so many good officers covered with wounds die of hunger; while so many virtuous, and meritorious women pass their lives in tears, without having bread to eat? These things cry for vengeance! Here is a veritable sarcasm (as they say now-a-days), and that passes unheeded, while the mouths of our hypocrites are continually uttering the word humanity. Shall I go, and throw bouquets at the feet of a prima donna whose whole recommendable qualities are reduced to ‘do, ré, mi, fa, sol?’ ”
“My uncle is the most perfect personification of the statu quo. Every thing new annoys him. I will try to grow old soon, to please him.”