CHAPTER III

     * Sugared yolks of eggs.

     ** A sort of nougat.

     *** This king, Don Pedro, whom we call “the Cruel,” and whom
     Queen Isabella, the Catholic, never called anything but “the
     Avenger,” was fond of walking about the streets of Seville
     at night in search of adventures, like the Caliph Haroun al
     Raschid. One night, in a lonely street, he quarrelled with a
     man who was singing a serenade. There was a fight, and the
     king killed the amorous caballero. At the clashing of
     their swords, an old woman put her head out of the window
     and lighted up the scene with a tiny lamp (candilejo) which
     she held in her hand. My readers must be informed that King
     Don Pedro, though nimble and muscular, suffered from one
     strange fault in his physical conformation. Whenever he
     walked his knees cracked loudly. By this cracking the old
     woman easily recognised him. The next day the veintiquatro
     in charge came to make his report to the king. “Sir, a duel
     was fought last night in such a street—one of the
     combatants is dead.” “Have you found the murderer?” “Yes,
     sir.” “Why has he not been punished already?” “Sir, I await
     your orders!” “Carry out the law.” Now the king had just
     published a decree that every duellist was to have his head
     cut off, and that head was to be set up on the scene of the
     fight. The veintiquatro got out of the difficulty like a
     clever man. He had the head sawed off a statue of the king,
     and set that up in a niche in the middle of the street in
     which the murder had taken place. The king and all the
     Sevillians thought this a very good joke. The street took
     its name from the lamp held by the old woman, the only
     witness of the incident. The above is the popular tradition.
     Zuniga tells the story somewhat differently. However that
     may be, a street called Calle del Candilejo still exists
     in Seville, and in that street there is a bust which is said
     to be a portrait of Don Pedro. This bust, unfortunately, is
     a modern production. During the seventeenth century the old
     one had become very much defaced, and the municipality had
     it replaced by that now to be seen.

     **** Rom, husband. Romi, wife.