The Admiral began to talk Discovery.
It was two years since there, far to the south, we
had passed in by the Mouth of the Serpent, and out by the
Mouth of the Dragon.
The Viceroy, inspecting the now quiet Vega, rode to an
Indian village, near Concepcion. He had twenty behind him,
well-armed, but arms were not needed. The people came
about him with an eagerness, a docility. They told their
stories. He sat his horse and listened with a benignant
face. Certain harshnesses in times and amounts of their
tribute he redressed. Forever, when personal appeal came
to him, he proved magnanimous, often tender, fatherly and
brotherly. At a distance he could be severe. But when I
think of the cruelties and high-handedness of others here,
the Adelantado and the Viceroy shine mildly.
We rode back to Concepcion. I remember the jewel-like
air that day, the flowers, the trees, the sky. Palms rustled
above us, the brilliant small lizards darted around silver
trunks. "The fairest day!" quoth the Admiral. "Ease
at heart! I feel ease at heart."
This night, as I sat beside him, wiling him to sleep, for
he always had trouble sleeping--a most wakeful man!--
he talked to me about the Queen. Toward this great woman
he ever showed veneration, piety, and knightly regard. Of
all in Spain she it was who best understood and shared that
religious part in him that breathed upward, inspired, longed
and strained toward worlds truly not on the earthly map.
Pages:
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330