We were disposed to praise the faculty if not the art for this,
but our doctor forbade. He said it was because the Spanish apothecaries
were so unlearned that they could not read even so little Latin as the
shortest prescription contained. Still I could not think the custom a
bad one, though founded on ignorance, and I do not see why it should not
have made for the greater safety of those who took the medicine if those
who put it up should follow a formula in their native tongue. I know
that at any rate we found the Spanish medicines beneficial and were
presently suffered to go out-of-doors, but with those severe injunctions
against going out after nightfall or opening our lips when we went out
by day. It was rather a bother, but it was fine to feel one's self in
the classic Madrid tradition of danger from pneumonia and to be of the
dignified company of the Spanish gentlemen whom we met with the border
of their cloaks over their mouths; like being a character in a _capa y
espada_ drama.
There was almost as little acted as spoken drama in the streets. I have
given my impression of the songlessness of Spain in Madrid as elsewhere,
but if there was no street singing there was often street playing by
pathetic bands of blind minstrels with guitars and mandolins.
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