y does the French language
possess the rich sonorousness or the varied and elegant cadence of the
Castilian tongue. I cannot conceive, I cannot imagine, I cannot form
any idea of French orators, and I doubt that they have ever had any
or can have any now in the strict construction of the term orator,
because we must not confuse the name orator with the words babbler
and charlatan, for these can exist in any country, in all the regions
of the inhabited world, among the cold and curt Englishmen as among
the lively and impressionable Frenchmen."

Thus he delivered a magnificent review of the nations, with his
poetical characterizations and most resounding epithets. Isagani nodded
assent, with his thoughts fixed on Paulita, whom he had surprised
gazing at him with an expressive look which contained a wealth of
meaning. He tried to divine what those eyes were expressing--those
eyes that were so eloquent and not at all deceptive.

"Now you who are a poet, a slave to rhyme and meter, a son of the
Muses," continued Sandoval, with an elegant wave of his hand, as
though he were saluting, on the horizon, the Nine Sisters, "do you
comprehend, can you conceive, how a language so harsh and unmusical
as French can give birth to poets of such gigantic stature as our
Garcilasos, our Herreras, our Esproncedas, our Calderons?"

"Nevertheless," objected Pecson, "Victor Hugo--"

"Victor Hugo, my friend Pecson, if Victor Hugo is a poet, it is
because he owes it to Spain, because it is an established fact, it
is a matter beyond all doubt, a thing admitted even by the Frenchmen
themselves, so envious of Spain, that if Victor Hugo has genius, if
he really is a poet, it is because his childhood was spent in Madrid;
there he drank in his first impressions, there his brain was molded,
there his imagination was colored, his heart modeled, and the most
beautiful concepts of his mind born. And after all, who is Victor
Hugo? Is he to be compared at all with our modern--"

This peroration was cut short by the return of Makaraig with a
despondent air and a bitter smile on his lips, carrying in his hand
a note, which he offered silently to Sandoval, who read:

"MY DOVE: Your letter has reached me late, for I have already
handed in my decision, and it has been approved. However,
as if I had guessed your wish, I have decided the matter
according to the desires of your proteges. I'll be at the
theater and wait for you after the