“You English are a stirring and industrious nation, sir. Sure we can’t never hope to equal you in this.”
“It seems to me, sir,” says I, “with all respect to you, that in the present posture of affairs, your governors are much to blame in that they allow so many of your men to stay idle in monasteries, instead of arming ’em and setting ’em to drill or to work. Why, ’tis said you have more Europe men in the convents here than in all your garrisons, and King Seva Gi and his Morattys at your very gates.”
“But pray, sir,” saith he, very meekly, “could these persons be better employed than in beseeching God to favour the arms of their country, and His saints to keep the enemy at a distance?”
“Indeed, sir,” says I, “speaking with all deference to you, I must say that all these Black, White, or Gray Friars do the country no good, nor the Church no credit. Were his highness to order ’em all on to the walls for to be taught how to handle a fusee or a pike, ’twould provide for the place a handsome garrison, and rid the town of a lazy set of rascals.” I was about to continue, growing warm in the subject, the which had much exercised me since my coming to Goa, when Dom Lewis pressed my arm, and I followed his eyes to a certain island in the river, where was a great void place with high posts set up therein, and seats of stone at one side thereof. I had seen this place before, and Peter also had pointed me to it, but it seemed to me that I had never yet truly understood what was done there. ’Twas the burning-place of the Inquisition. I stopped suddenly in my speech, but Dom Lewis said somewhat touching the time of day, and we passed on.
Now as we come into the town, there was had betwixt us some discussion as to which way we should return to the Viceroy’s palace, and on the advice of Father Sebastian we made choice of a certain street that leads past the cathedral. And we walking and talking merrily, come presently to the square lying before this, which is as large as any in England, and of a neat and plain aspect. Now we being entered the square, I saw coming towards us the procession of some saint, I have forgot which, but they were carrying the Host under a state,[63] with clericos walking bareheaded on either hand, and boys scattering incense and ringing bells. There was also one or two images or statuas, with banners and suchlike borne aloft, and many nuns and ladies of the city walking after. And as the procession come near, the people all made haste to kneel down in the dust, the men uncovering, until it should be passed. And I, according to my custom, did seek to turn aside, but we were in the open square, and there was no shop nor side-street at hand. Then there come to my mind that sight which Dom Lewis had but now showed to me—viz., the burning-place by the river, and I won’t conceal from you that for a moment my knees trembled and the devil tempted me very sorely to take off my hat and bow myself before those images and that Host which was carried there. But I thank God that I was kept from this base and cowardly conformity, and was strengthened to stand still while as the procession came near. Father Sebastian and Dom Francis went down on their knees mighty devoutly, and Dom Lewis bowed almost to the ground, saying to me—
“Bow, Dom Edward; ’tis the custom here.”
But I still stood up, and the procession passed by, the priests and women all looking black upon me that durst insult their idols. And when the people was rose up again from their knees, they come round about us, hustling us and crying out that we was atheists and heretics, and making ready for to stone us. But Dom Lewis crying out to them very earnestly that I was a stranger that knew not their ways in that place, and that they were all three good Christians, as might be seen, they were content to let us pass, though with many ill words. Thus we walked on to the palace, Father Sebastian going meekly with his eyes cast down and his hands folded, and Dom Lewis with a dark and gloomy air, while Dom Francis his cousin looked upon me askance, avoiding me as a man might one that had the plague. I, indeed, was far from being at ease with myself, and to add to my distemper, it seemed that even in the palace I could not be free from peril, for we reaching the building and standing on the great steps in the forefront thereof for to take the air, there come up an ancient man, an Indian, of a lean and shabby aspect, and he carried with him a little cabinet, so to speak, with curtains before it of some old torn stuff. And Father Sebastian asking what strange beast he had therein, the fellow replied by bringing the cabinet up to us upon the steps, and showing us inside on’t divers little images of the Virgin and the saints. And his design was that we should kiss these, and withal give him some small piece of money, as the custom is here. And Father Sebastian motioning him to approach me first, being the guest of Dom Lewis, I had in my hand half a ducket,[64] the which I purposed to give him, seeing the man to be old and poor, but I refused to kiss the images that he carried, whereat he departed much displeased, though the other gentlemen were willing to pleasure him.
And now, Dom Lewis seeming to be ill at ease, we went into the palace, and presently his highness entered to us, and the evening passed as usual. But shortly before the company departed, while as they was serving jacolatt,[65] Father Sebastian entered again into discourse with me, and desired to hear many things concerning England. He held many strange notions touching our country, such as I should conceive a Frenchman might entertain, but so universally learned are these Jesuits that I can’t so much as guess of what nation he was. And at last he advanced this proposition—viz., that the English are a people altogether destitute of all loyalty and reverence, and entirely given up to lawlessness and irreligion. And this saying I did combat with all my skill, bringing forward to the contrary thereof the loyalty wherewith the Cavaliers fought for his late majesty, and the reverence they testified toward the poor clergy in their extremity.
“But, sir,” saith Father Sebastian, “sure you’ll pardon me if I say aught displeasing to you in my ignorance, but I had believed that ’twas accounted in England a merit to show no reverence to such things as other men venerate. And this belief of mine was confirmed, sir, in me by your own behaviour to-day.”
“I hope, sir,” says I, “that I am always ready to show due respect wheresoever my conscience may allow on’t, but I can’t find it in me to bow down to a piece of bread.”