The town itself is in a state of great decay, and notwithstanding the magnificence of its public edifices, we found more than the usual amount of Galician filth and misery.  The posada was one of the most wretched description, and to mend the matter, the hostess was a most intolerable scold and shrew.  Antonio having found fault with the quality of some provision which she produced, she cursed him most immoderately in the country language, which was the only one she spoke, and threatened, if he attempted to breed any disturbance in her house, to turn the horses, himself, and his master forthwith out of doors.  Socrates himself, however, could not have conducted himself on this occasion with greater forbearance than Antonio, who shrugged his shoulders, muttered something in Greek, and then was silent.

“Where does the notary public live?” I demanded.  Now the notary public vended books, and to this personage I was recommended by my friend at Saint James.  A boy conducted me to the house of Senor Garcia, for such was his name.  I found him a brisk, active, talkative little man of forty.  He undertook with great alacrity the sale of my Testaments, and in a twinkling sold two to a client who was waiting in the office, and appeared to be from the country.  He was an enthusiastic patriot, but of course in a local sense, for he cared for no other country than Pontevedra.

“Those fellows of Vigo,” said he, “say their town is a better one than ours, and that it is more deserving to be the capital of this part of Galicia.  Did you ever hear such folly?  I tell you what, friend, I should not care if Vigo were burnt, and all the fools and rascals within it.  Would you ever think of comparing Vigo with Pontevedra?”

“I don’t know,” I replied; “I have never been at Vigo, but I have heard say that the bay of Vigo is the finest in the world.”

“Bay! my good sir.  Bay! yes, the rascals have a bay, and it is that bay of theirs which has robbed us all our commerce.  But what needs the capital of a district with a bay?  It is public edifices that it wants, where the provincial deputies can meet to transact their business; now, so far from there being a commodious public edifice, there is not a decent house in all Vigo.  Bay! yes, they have a bay, but have they water fit to drink?  Have they a fountain?  Yes, they have, and the water is so brackish that it would burst the stomach of a horse.  I hope, my dear sir, that you have not come all this distance to take the part of such a gang of pirates as those of Vigo.”

“I am not come to take their part,” I replied; “indeed, I was not aware that they wanted my assistance in this dispute.  I am merely carrying to them the New Testament, of which they evidently stand in much need, if they are such knaves and scoundrels as you represent them.”

“Represent them, my dear sir.  Does not the matter speak for itself?  Do they not say that their town is better than ours, more fit to be the capital of a district, que disparate! que briboneria! (what folly! what rascality!)”