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Updated: May 16, 2025
In Spain you do not pass silently when a beggar demands alms, but pray his mercy for God's love to excuse you: 'Perdone Usted por el amor de Dios! Or else you beseech God to protect him: 'Dios le ampare! And the mendicant, coming to your gate, sometimes invokes the Immaculate Virgin. 'Ave Maria purissima! he calls. And you, tired of giving, reply: 'Y por siempre! And for ever.
But we are now quits; and if any further indignity be offered me, it will not be so lightly borne." "Perdone, vuestra merced! we are not quits," cried De Gondomar quickly. "The account between us is far from settled; nor will I rest content till you have paid me in full. But we had better break off this interview," he added, more calmly, "since no good is like to result from it.
The formula with which you are expected to tell the beggars with whom, unfortunately, Spain is once more overrun that you have nothing for them, is a lesson in what someone has well called the "aristocratic democracy" of Spain: "Pardon me, for the love of God, my brother," or the simple Perdone me usted, using precisely the same address as you would to a duke.
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