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One of the girls walked up to me and touched my beard (which I had grown in an attempt to look swarthy). She wore a short skirt, but her chest was naked, and as she caressed my face I looked down and saw how close her breasts were to my bare arms. They seemed so full and round, so perfect and inviting, that I could only just restrain myself from touching them. I had always assumed that my thoughts of Isabella would remain pure and in the forefront of my mind and was somewhat surprised that, at the first sight of such beautiful women, I should find myself becoming so swiftly overcome by passion. Perhaps I had little resistance to beauty, and fidelity might not be one of my strongest characteristics?

I sought out our friar, and confessed that my thoughts had become lustful and depraved. Although I was pledged to Isabella, it was difficult to love faithfully when I could no longer see the object of my heart’s desire.

The friar answered that such ardent yearning for that which we cannot see should be redirected towards the love and promise of eternity offered by our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. I must stand firm and reject the snares of the devil.

This was difficult, because at that moment a group of naked Indian women began to play a game of leapfrog outside our camp.

‘You see?’ I cried. ‘How can anyone avoid the temptation of such flesh?’

‘One must not think of these things,’ the friar answered firmly, placing his hands together inside his cloak.

‘But what can I do to assuage my lustful thoughts?’ I asked.

‘Think of St Agatha, who lost her breasts for our Lord.’

I suddenly remembered a painting I had seen in Seville of a dark-haired woman holding a tray of pears. That was what they were.

‘You must have thought about St Agatha a very great deal,’ I observed.

‘Do not torment me,’ the priest replied distractedly, fumbling under his cloak. ‘It is a daily agony.’

Perhaps he had a persistent itch, or was cleaning his dagger?

‘What must we do?’ I asked.

‘Look to the Lord,’ the friar replied, his voice rising in pitch. ‘Only look to the Lord.’