Page 17 - ramona-text

RAMONA — 9
much as to have been told that at the very moment when
his mother's calm voice was saying to him, "Good morning,
my son, 1 hope you have slept well, and are better," there
was welling up in her heart a passionate ejaculation, "O my
glorious son! The saints have sent me in him the face of his
father! He is fit for a kingdom!"
The truth is, Felipe Moreno was not fit for a kingdom at
all. If he had been, he would not have been so ruled by his
mother without ever finding it out. But so far as mere
physical beauty goes, there never was a king born, whose
face, stature, and bearing would set off a crown or a throne,
or any of the things of which the outside of royalty is made
up, better than would Felipe Moreno's. And it was true, as
the Senora said, whether the saints had anything to do with
it or not, that he had the face of his father. So strong a like-
ness is seldom seen. When Felipe once, on the occasion of a
grand celebration and procession, put on the gold-wrought
velvet mantle, gayly embroidered short breeches fastened at
the knee with red ribbons, and gold-and-silver-trimmed
sombero, which his father had worn twenty-five years be-
fore, the Senora fainted at her first look at him,—fainted and
fell; and when she opened her eyes, and saw the same
splendid, gayly arrayed, dark-bearded man, bending over
her in distress, with words of endearment and alarm, she
fainted again.
"Mother, mother mia," cried Felipe, "I will not wear them
if it makes you feel like this! Let me take them off. I will
not go to their cursed parade;" and he sprang to his feet,
and began with trembling fingers to unbuckle the sword-
belt.
"No, no, Felipe," faintly cried the Seiiora, from the ground.
"It is my wish that you wear them;" and staggering to her
feet, with a burst of tears, she rebuckled the old sword-belt,
which her fingers had so many times—never unkissed
buckled, in the days when her husband had bade her fare-
well and gone forth to the uncertain fates of war. "Wear
—
them!" she cried, with gathering fire in her tones, and her
eyes dry of tears, "wear them, and let the American hounds
>ee what a Mexican officer and gentleman looked like before