If I go to church, it
is but to spit at the images. I spat at the bulto of Maria this
morning; and I love the Corojai, and the Londone, (59) because they
are not baptized.'
MYSELF. - 'You, of course, never say a prayer.'
THE ONE-EYED. - 'No, no; there are three or four old words, taught
me by some old people, which I sometimes say to myself; I believe
they have both force and virtue.'
MYSELF. - 'I would fain hear; pray tell me them.'
THE ONE-EYED. - 'Brother, they are words not to be repeated.'
MYSELF. - 'Why not?'
THE ONE-EYED. - 'They are holy words, brother.'
MYSELF. - 'Holy! You say there is no God; if there be none, there
can be nothing holy; pray tell me the words, O Tuerta.'
THE ONE-EYED. - 'Brother, I dare not.'
MYSELF. - 'Then you do fear something.'
THE ONE-EYED.- 'Not I -
'SABOCA ENRECAR MARIA ERERIA, (60)
and now I wish I had not said them.'
MYSELF. - 'You are distracted, O Tuerta: the words say simply,
'Dwell within us, blessed Maria.' You have spitten on her bulto
this morning in the church, and now you are afraid to repeat four
words, amongst which is her name.'
THE ONE-EYED. - 'I did not understand them; but I wish I had not
said them.
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