goodly city of Segovia abounded; and even the populace declared him
faultless, as a catholic and a man, even while their inward shuddering
belied the words.

Don Ferdinand Morales alone was untroubled with these contradictory
emotions. Incapable of hypocrisy himself, he could not imagine it
in others: his nature seemed actually too frank and true for the
admission even of a prejudice. Little did he dream that his name,
his wealth, his very favor with the Queen, his influence with her
subjects, had already stamped him, in the breast of the man to whom
his house and heart alike were open, as an object of suspicion and
espial; and that ere a year had passed over his wedded life, these
feelings were ripened, cherished--changed from the mere thought of
persecution, to palpable resolve, by personal and ungovernable hate.

Don Luis had never known love; not even the fleeting fancy, much less
the actual passion, of the sensualist, or the spiritual aspirings of
true affection. Of the last, in fact, he was utterly incapable.
No feeling, with him, was of an evanescent nature: under the cold
austerity of the ordinary man, lay coals of living fire. It mattered
not under what guise excited--hate, revenge, ambition, he was capable
of all. At love, alone, he had ever laughed--exulting in his own
security.

The internal condition of Spain, as we have before said, had been,
until the accession of Isabella and Ferdinand, one of the grossest
license and most fearful immorality. Encouraged in the indulgence of
every passion, by the example of the Court, no dictates of either
religion or morality ever interfered to protect the sanctity of home;
unbridled desires were often the sole cause of murderous assaults; and