Myself.—Not only as a Carlist, but as Don Carlos himself.
Alcalde.—Oh! most ridiculous; mistake a countryman of the grand Baintham for such a Goth!
Myself.—Excuse me, sir, you speak of the grand somebody.
Alcalde.—The grand Baintham. He who has invented laws for all the world. I hope shortly to see them adopted in this unhappy country of ours.
Myself.—Oh! you mean Jeremy Bentham. Yes! a very remarkable man in his way.
Alcalde.—In his way! in all ways. The most universal genius which the world ever produced:—a Solon, a Plato, and a Lope de Vega.
Myself.—I have never read his writings. I have no doubt that he was a Solon; and as you say, a Plato. I should scarcely have thought, however, that he could be ranked as a poet with Lope de Vega.
Alcalde.—How surprising! I see, indeed, that you know nothing of his writings, though an Englishman. Now, here am I, a simple alcalde of Galicia, yet I possess all the writings of Baintham on that shelf, and I study them day and night.
Myself.—You doubtless, sir, possess the English language.
Alcalde.—I do. I mean that part of it which is contained in the writings of Baintham. I am most truly glad to see a countryman of his in these Gothic wildernesses. I understand and appreciate your motives for visiting them: excuse the incivility and rudeness which you have experienced. But we will endeavour to make you reparation. You are this moment free: but it is late; I must find you a lodging for the night. I know one close by which will just suit you. Let us repair thither this moment. Stay, I think I see a book in your hand.