When the Mother of Santo Domingo, said that Religious, was with Child of that future Saint, she had a Dream which very much afflicted her.  She dreamt that she heard a Dog bark in her Belly; and inquiring (at what Oracle is not said) the Meaning of her Dream, she was told, That that Child should bark out the Gospel (excuse the Bareness of the Expression, it may run better in Spanish; tho’, if I remember right, Erasmus gives it in Latin much the same Turn) which should thence shine out like that lighted Torch.  And this is the Reason, that wherever you see the Image of that Saint, a Dog and a lighted Torch is in the Group.

He told me at the same time, that there had been more Popes and Cardinals of that Order than of any, if not all the other.  To confirm which, he led me into a large Gallery, on each Side whereof he shew’d me the Pictures of all the Popes and Cardinals that had been of that Order; among which, I particularly took Notice of that of Cardinal Howard, great Uncle to the present Duke of Norfolk.  But after many Encomiums of their Society, with which he interspers’d his Discourse, he added one that I least valu’d it for; That the sole Care and Conduct of the Inquisition was intrusted with them.

Finding me attentive, or not so contradictory as the English Humour generally is, he next brought me into a fair and large Cloister, round which I took several Turns with him; and, indeed, The Place was too delicious to tire, under a Conversation less pertinent or courteous than that he entertain’d me with.  In the Middle of the Cloister was a small but pretty and sweet Grove of Orange and Lemon-trees; these bore Fruit ripe and green, and Flowers, all together on one Tree; and their Fruit was so very large and beautiful, and their Flowers so transcendently odoriferous, that all I had ever seen of the like Kind in England could comparatively pass only for Beauty in Epitome, or Nature imitated in Wax-work.  Many Flocks also of pretty little Birds, with their chearful Notes, added not a little to my Delight.  In short, in Life I never knew or found three of my Senses at once so exquisitely gratify’d.

Not far from this, Saint Vincent, the Patron, as I said before, of this City, has a Chapel dedicated to him.  Once a Year they do him Honour in a sumptuous Procession.  Then are their Streets all strow’d with Flowers, and their Houses set off with their richest Tapestries, every one strives to excel his Neighbour in distinguishing himself by the Honour he pays to that Saint; and he is the best Catholick, as well as the best Citizen, in the Eye of the religious, who most exerts himself on this Occasion.

The Procession begins with a Cavalcade of all the Friars of all the Convents in and about the City.  These walk two and two with folded Arms, and Eyes cast down to the very Ground, and with the greatest outward Appearance of Humility imaginable; nor, though the Temptation from the fine Women that fill’d their Windows, or the rich Tapestries that adorn’d the Balconies might be allow’d sufficient to attract, could I observe that any one of them all ever mov’d them upwards.