"Then verily," said the curate, "the merit of the father must not be put

down to the account of the son. Take it, mistress housekeeper; open the

window and fling it into the yard and lay the foundation of the pile for

the bonfire we are to make."

The housekeeper obeyed with great satisfaction, and the worthy

"Esplandian" went flying into the yard to await with all patience the

fire that was in store for him.

"Proceed," said the curate.

"This that comes next," said the barber, "is 'Amadis of Greece,' and,

indeed, I believe all those on this side are of the same Amadis lineage."

"Then to the yard with the whole of them," said the curate; "for to have

the burning of Queen Pintiquiniestra, and the shepherd Darinel and his

eclogues, and the bedevilled and involved discourses of his author, I

would burn with them the father who begot me if he were going about in

the guise of a knight-errant."

"I am of the same mind," said the barber.

"And so am I," added the niece.

"In that case," said the housekeeper, "here, into the yard with them!"

They were handed to her, and as there were many of them, she spared

herself the staircase, and flung them down out of the window.

"Who is that tub there?" said the curate.

"This," said the barber, "is 'Don Olivante de Laura.'"

"The author of that book," said the curate, "was the same that wrote 'The

Garden of Flowers,' and truly there is no deciding which of the two books

is the more truthful, or, to put it better, the less lying; all I can say

is, send this one into the yard for a swaggering fool."

"This that follows is 'Florismarte of Hircania,'" said the barber.

"Senor Florismarte here?" said the curate; "then by my faith he must take

up his quarters in the yard, in spite of his marvellous birth and

visionary adventures, for the stiffness and dryness of his style deserve

nothing else; into the yard with him and the other, mistress

housekeeper."

"With all my heart, senor," said she, and executed the order with great

delight.

"This," said the barber, "is The Knight Platir.'"

"An old book that," said the curate, "but I find no reason for clemency

in it; send it after the others without appeal;" which was done.

Another book was opened, and they saw it was entitled, "The Knight of the

Cross."

"For the sake of the holy name this book has," said the curate, "its

ignorance might be excused; but then, they say, 'behind the cross there's

the devil; to the fire with it."




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