in jurisprudence, in medicine—and, though
self-taught as a painter—an artist of considerable
skill. (This last was a compliment, coming as it did
from the future father-in-law of Velazquez.) Evidently
Pacheco was a whole-hearted admirer whose enthusiasm
needs discounting. However, so far as we can check
it, his account seems to be correct in the matter
of direct observation. The fact that there is
scarcely one flash of humour in the interminable record
of the Valladolid trial confirms Pacheco’s report
of the prisoner’s habitual gravity. No
doubt the tragic circumstances in which he found himself
were not conducive to displays of humour. When
being tried for his life, the merriest of men does
not dwell on the innate absurdity of things.
Humour was, however, one of the few gifts which nature
had denied to Luis de Leon. He was aware of this
himself, to judge from his statement that he had nothing
of the jester or scoffer in him.[161] But if Luis
de Leon was relatively poor in humour, he had an abundant
store of mordant sarcasm and a faculty for ironic
banter, as Medina and Castro learned to their chagrin.[162]
Pacheco’s opinion of Luis de Leon’s versatile
talent is borne out by the scrap of evidence given
at the trial by Francisco de Salinas—the
sightless dedicatee of El aire se serena.
Salinas bore witness that some of Luis de Leon’s
admirers were persuaded that he could carry any University
chair against all competition.[163] Evidently to those
who met him frequently Luis de Leon conveyed the impression
of irresistible talent. Though students voted
in professorial elections at Salamanca, and supported
Luis de Leon loyally, he did nothing to conciliate
them, and expressed his opinion of them with unquestionable
candour. We gather that he was profoundly attached
to the ancient order of things[164] and that, though
accused of interpreting the Bible in a rabbinical
sense, he had never read a rabbinical book.[165] We
learn that among his teachers were Guevara, Mancio,
Cipriano, and Melchor Cano;[166] of these he would
seem most to have esteemed Cano.[167] With such masters,
and being the man he was, Luis de Leon would naturally
have got together a good theological library, and he
was allowed to have some of his books in his prison-cell;
it is but natural that most of his requests should
be for theological works which would be of service
in preparing his defence on technical points.
Reading was his sole solace during his imprisonment,
and it is noticeable that, whenever he asks for a
book he speaks of it—not with the dry,
meticulous precision of a bibliographer but—with
all the caressing detail of a genuine book-lover.
He indicates the sizes of the various works which
he needs, describes their bindings, and mentions in
what part of his monastery-cell they will be found.
He wants a Vatable with gilt edges, bound in black;
it should be found in a case for smaller volumes which
lies on his writing-table. He asks for a Bible,
printed by Plantin, bound in black leather and fastened