he placed over me have despoiled me of my inheritance. You see me, mighty señors, reduced to sing for food.”
“A right good youth, and worthy of largess,” observed Don Pedro de Mendoza, ill-famed as the most ruthless squanderer of the royal treasure. (If Don Pedro could have scanned the expression of the face before him, he might have seen such a smile of scorn gathering about the thin lips as would have startled him.)
“The saints bless you!” was the reply, “and deal with you as you do to others. As for me,” with a deep sigh, “I am not only starving, but at this present time I know that my sinful guardians are carousing at my expense.”
“The Virgin protect us!” exclaimed the archbishop. “Did ever man hear of such infamy!”
“If the youth speaks truth,” returned Villena, not to be behindhand in the expression of sympathy, “the matter should be submitted to the king’s judges, and right done in ample restitution.”