The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wanderings of Persiles and Sigismunda, by Miguel Cervantes Saavedra This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: The Wanderings of Persiles and Sigismunda A Northern Story Author: Miguel Cervantes Saavedra Translator: Louise Stanley Release Date: March 5, 2020 [EBook #61561] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WANDERINGS OF PERSILES, SIGISMUNDA *** Produced by Andrés V. Galia and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) cover TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES The book cover was modified by the Transcriber and added to the public domain. The Table of Contents was added by the Transcriber. The numbering of the chapters in the table of contents follows the sequence observed in the original images of the book, which is not successive. In the original book not all the chapters that made up the original work in Spanish had been included. The Translator mentions having taken some "liberties" (sic) (see PREFACE). For instance, in Book 3 and Book 4 of this edition a note by the Translator is included at the end of Chapter V of Book 3 mentioning that "there are here three chapters omitted, Chap. 6, 7, and 8, in order to shorten the Story a little, and not possessing much interest or merit." Note 9 is listed at the end, but is missing in the main text, however not clear if a consequence of the cuts made by the Translator, as footnotes and the Notes listed at the end belong to the Translator. The spelling of Spanish names and places in Spain mentioned in the text has been adjusted to the rules set by the Academia Real Española. A number of words in this book have both hyphenated and non-hyphenated variants. For the words with both variants present the one more used has been kept. Punctuation and other printing errors have been corrected. A Castilian of refined manners, a gentleman, true to religion and true to honour, a scholar and a soldier, fought under the banners of Don John of Austria, at Lepanto; lost his arm, and was captured; endured slavery not only with fortitude, but with mirth; and, by the superiority of nature, mastered and overawed his Barbarian owner; finally ransomed, he resumed his native destiny—the awful task of achieving Fame. The world was a drama to him; his own thoughts, in spite of poverty and sickness, perpetuated for him the feelings of youth; he painted only what he knew and had looked into, but he knew and had looked into much indeed; and his imagination was ever at hand to adapt and modify the world of his experience; of delicious love, he fabled, yet with stainless virtue. CERVANTES: A Lecture, by Coleridge, in 1818. title-p THE WANDERINGS OF PERSILES AND SIGISMUNDA; A NORTHERN STORY. BY MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA. LONDON: JOSEPH CUNDALL, 168, NEW BOND STREET. 1854. TO THE HON. EDWARD LYULPH STANLEY, IN MEMORY OF THOSE DAYS WHEN HE AND HIS BROTHER FIRST MADE ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE WONDERFUL ADVENTURES AND TROUBLES OF THE BEAUTIFUL PILGRIMS, THIS WORK IS INSCRIBED BY THE TRANSLATOR. pagvii-ilo PREFACE BY THE TRANSLATOR. This Romance was the last work of Cervantes, the dedication to the Count de Lemos was written the day after he had received extreme unction; he died four days after, on the 23rd of April 1616, aged 67. On that same day in that same year England lost her Shakespeare.[A] In the Preface to this edition, the Editor says, "Not a few are there among the wise and learned, who, notwithstanding the well-known merit of all the works of the famous Spaniard, Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, and in spite of the oft repeated praises lavished especially upon the Life and Deeds of Don Quixote de la Mancha, which has ever held the foremost place in the estimation of the public, yet give the preference above all to The Troubles of Persiles and Sigismunda, which I am about to present to the public anew in this edition." It seems, too, that this was the opinion of Cervantes himself; for in his dedication to the Count de Lemos, which is affixed to the second part of Don Quixote, he says, "offering to your Excellency the Troubles of Persiles and Sigismunda, a book I hope to finish in about four months (Deo volente), which is to be either the very best or the very worst hitherto composed in our language, I speak of books of entertainment, and indeed I repent of having said, the very worst, because, according to the opinion of my friends, it will reach the extreme of goodness." Sismondi also says the same in speaking of this work, and of its estimation in Spain; but he goes on to observe, "a foreigner will not, I should imagine, concede to it so much merit: it is the offspring of a rich, but at the same time of a wandering imagination, which confines itself within no bounds of the possible or the probable, and which is not sufficiently founded on reality. He has entitled this Romance 'A Northern Story,' and his complete ignorance of the North, in which his scene is laid, and which he imagines to be a land of Barbarians, Anthropophagi, Pagans, and Enchanters, is sufficiently singular." The truth of this cannot be denied; but I believe that it has never yet been translated into English,[B] and, as it certainly possesses great merits in spite of the absurdities, and a good deal of imagination as well as beauty (though I fear much of the latter will be lost in a translation) as a work of Cervantes it appears to me worthy of being introduced to English readers. The plan of the story is plainly imitated from Heliodorus, Bishop of Tricca, in Thessaly, who in his youth wrote a Romance in the Greek language, called The Æthiopian History; or, the Adventures of two Lovers, Chariclea, the daughter of the King of Ethiopia, and Theagenes, a noble Thessalian. He lived in the reigns of Theodosius and Arcadius, about the end of the fourth century. Few modern readers, I imagine, would have patience to read this very heavy Romance; but in 1590, when Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia was published, stories of amusement and interest were not as plentiful as in the present day, and it was a short time before that Romance appeared, that a translation of Heliodorus's Æthiopic History was published in England. The edition which I have seen is translated by N. Tate, the first five books by "a Person of Quality." The date is 1753. The other editions are 1587, 1622, 1686. But though the plan of Persiles and Sigismunda is taken from Heliodorus, I do not think they have any resemblance in style, and there is far more vivacity and humour in the narrative and characters, and more nature too, in spite of the high flown romance that surrounds them. I fear the modern reader will find the numerous episodes tedious; and story after story, which every additional personage we meet, thinks it necessary to relate, will perhaps try his patience; yet there is great beauty in many of these, at least in the original language. The remarkable ignorance which Cervantes displays on geographical points has a parallel in our own Shakespeare, who makes Bohemia a country with a sea coast. Cervantes has evidently formed his ideas of the North only by the voyages and travels that were published at the time he lived. It is more surprising that he should know so little of England, considering how much his own country had been connected with her, and also from the knowledge and information he displays on other subjects. The chief fault in the work is the remarkable want of keeping; for whereas he at once determines the period and date by bringing in the expulsion of the Moors and Soldiers who served under Charles the 5th, also speaking of Lisbon as belonging to Spain, at the same time he throws his personages into a perfect land of Romance, and speaks of all the northern countries, as if themselves, their manners and customs, were utterly unknown and barbarous; yet Elizabeth or James the 1st was reigning in England; the queen of James the 1st was a Danish princess, and Denmark and Sweden were assuredly not unknown to fame. In fixing upon Iceland and Friesland as the dominions of his hero and heroine, he gets upon safer ground, though by the way in which he speaks of them, he evidently considers this a sort of mysterious and only half understood land, which might serve a wandering prince or princess of romance, for a home, for want of a better. The first and second part differ considerably; when Cervantes gets home to his own bright clime and sunny skies, you feel the truth of his descriptions, which form a striking contrast to the icy seas and snowy islands among which his pilgrims are voyaging throughout the whole first volume. I have taken some few liberties, omitted some pages, and occasionally shortened a sentence, but I do not think the English reader will feel inclined to quarrel with these abbreviations, and the Spanish student can refer to the original. To those who feel for Cervantes as he deserves,—to those who have enjoyed the rich fund of amusement that Don Quixote affords, I need not apologise further for making them also acquainted with these wondrously beautiful and almost angelic pilgrims, who were the last productions of his lively imagination, for assuredly those blue eyes and golden ringlets must have been most unlike the visions of beauty that dwelt around him, in his own land of Spain. Postscript.—For the Portrait of Cervantes, which enriches the title page, I have to thank the great kindness and friendly aid of one, who has gained a distinguished name as an author, in the service of both Spanish Art and Spanish History, Mr. Stirling of Keir. I have also to acknowledge the courtesy of Sir Arthur Aston, to whom the original picture belongs, from which I have been permitted to take my engraving; it was brought by him from Madrid, and he found it in the possession of a family where it was highly prized, and considered as an undoubted Portrait of Cervantes. July, 1853. L. D. S. FOOTNOTES: Mr. Ticknor has, since this was written, bestowed upon us the unwelcome piece of information that this is a mistake, in consequence of the English and Spanish Calendar differing by ten days. Since writing this I find that there was a translation from the French (not Spanish), in 1619, by M. L. printed in London. Florian mentions two French Translations, both bad. [A] [B] pagxiiii-ilo DEDICATION TO DON PEDRO FERNÁNDEZ DE CASTRO, COUNT OF LEMOS, ANDRADE AND VILLALVA, MARQUIS OF SARRIA, ETC. There is an old couplet which was famous in its day, that began "With one foot in the stirrup already." I could have wished in this epistle of mine, that this was not so much to the purpose as it is, for I may begin nearly in the same words, saying— "With my foot in the stirrup already, And the terrors of death before my eyes, I write, noble Marquis, to thee." Yesterday I received extreme unction, and to-day I write this. Time is short, fears increase, hopes diminish; yet, nevertheless, I could wish my life prolonged enough to be able once more to kiss your feet, so great would be my delight in seeing your Excellency once again in Spain, that it would almost be new life to me; but if it be decreed that I am to lose it the will of Heaven be done; and at least you shall know this wish of mine, and you shall know that in me you had a truly loving servant, who would have gladly done more than die for your service; and I rejoice in the prospect of your Lordship's arrival, I rejoice in seeing it even afar off, and again I rejoice to think that the hopes I have entertained of your Lordship's goodness will prove true. There still remain unfinished in my head certain reliques and fancies, "The weeks in a Garden," and of the famous Bernardo, if I were so happy (but it could not be without a miracle) that Heaven would prolong my life, you should see them, and also the end of the Galatea which I know your Lordship much admires. May God preserve your Lordship, as he alone can. Your Excellency's Servant, MIGUEL DE CERVANTES. Madrid, 19th of April, 1616. pagxv-ilo PROLOGUE. It happened then, dear Reader, that as I and two of my friends were coming from Esquivias,—a place famous for a thousand reasons, first on account of its many illustrious families, and secondly for its equally illustrious wines,—I heard some one behind me pricking along in great haste as if desirous of overtaking us, and even proving it by calling out to desire we would not go so fast. We waited, and a gray student mounted upon an ass came up to us, gray—because his whole dress was gray. He wore gaiters, round-toed shoes and a sword in a good scabbard (contera).[C] He wore a starched band, with equal braids; it is true he had but two, so that the band got every minute awry, and he took infinite pains and trouble to set it right. Coming up to us, he said, "To judge by the haste with which you travel, gentlemen, you must be going to court to look after some place or Prebendal stall; My Lord of Toledo, or the King must be there at least, for truly my ass has been famed for his paces more than once, and yet could not overtake you?" To which one of my companions replied, "It is the horse of Senor Miguel de Cervantes that is in fault, for he is a fast goer." Scarce had the student heard the name of Cervantes, than alighting from his ass, his portmanteau falling on one side, and the cushion whereon he sat, on the other (for he was travelling with all his comforts about him), he hurried to me and seizing me by the left arm, cried, "Yes, yes, this is the crippled sound one, the famous man, the merry author, the delight of the Muses." I, when I heard so much praise poured forth in so short a space, thought it would be a lack of courtesy not to answer it, so embracing him round the neck (by which he lost his bands altogether,) I said, "This, sir, is an error into which many of my ignorant admirers have fallen, I am indeed Cervantes, but no favourite of the Muses, nor deserving of any of the encomiums with which you have been pleased to honour me. Go and remount your ass, and let us travel on together in pleasant conversation for the short distance that remains of our journey." The polite student did as I desired, we reined in our steeds a little and pursued our way more leisurely. As we travelled we spoke on the subject of my ailments, and the good student immediately pronounced my doom, saying, "This malady is the dropsy, which all the water in the ocean would not cure, even if it were not salt, you must drink by rule, sir, and eat more, and this will cure you better than any medicine." "Many have told me so," I answered, "but I should find it as impossible to leave off drinking as if I had been born for no other purpose. My life is well nigh ended and, by the beatings of my pulse, I think next Sunday at latest will see the close of my career, you have therefore, sir, made acquaintance with me just at the right moment, though I shall not have time to show myself grateful for the kindness you have shown to me." Here we reached the bridge of Toledo, over which my road lay, and he separated from me to go by that of Segovia. As to what will be said of my adventure, Fame will take care of that, my friends will have pleasure in telling it, and I greater pleasure in hearing it. He again embraced me, I returned the compliment. He spurred on his ass, and left me as sorrily disposed as he was sorrily mounted. He had however furnished me with abundant materials for pleasant writing, but all times are not alike. Perhaps a time may come when, taking up this broken thread again, I may add what is now wanting and what I am aware is needed. Adieu to gaiety, adieu to wit, adieu, my pleasant friends, for I am dying, yet hoping to see you all again happy in another world. FOOTNOTES: Contera, a piece of brass, tin or silver put at the end of the scabbard to prevent the sword's point piercing through. [C] TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE PROLOGUE xv BOOK 1 CHAPTER I 3 CHAPTER II 8 CHAPTER III 17 CHAPTER IV 21 CHAPTER V 30 CHAPTER VI 38 CHAPTER VII 48 CHAPTER VIII 51 CHAPTER IX 58 CHAPTER X 64 CHAPTER XI 71 CHAPTER XII 76 CHAPTER XIII 81 CHAPTER XIV 85 CHAPTER XV 87 CHAPTER XVI 90 CHAPTER XVII 95 CHAPTER XVIII 98 CHAPTER XIX 108 CHAPTER XX 113 CHAPTER XXI 117 CHAPTER XXII 119 CHAPTER XXIII 126 BOOK 2 CHAPTER I 133 CHAPTER II 136 CHAPTER III 144 CHAPTER IV 150 CHAPTER V 155 CHAPTER VI 163 CHAPTER VII 168 CHAPTER VIII 174 CHAPTER IX 181 CHAPTER X 186 CHAPTER XI 190 CHAPTER XII 198 CHAPTER XIII 203 CHAPTER XIV 210 CHAPTER XV 216 CHAPTER XVI 224 CHAPTER XVII 230 CHAPTER XVIII 235 CHAPTER XIX 242 CHAPTER XX 250 CHAPTER XXI 256 CHAPTER XXII 262 BOOK III CHAPTER I 271 CHAPTER II 280 CHAPTER III 289 CHAPTER IV 295 CHAPTER V 305 CHAPTER IX 311 CHAPTER X 323 CHAPTER XI 332 CHAPTER XII 342 CHAPTER XIII 350 CHAPTER XIV 354 CHAPTER XV 360 CHAPTER XVI 365 CHAPTER XVII 369 CHAPTER XVIII 375 CHAPTER XIX 376 CHAPTER XX 379 CHAPTER XXI 386 BOOK IV CHAPTER I 395 CHAPTER III 402 CHAPTER IV 407 CHAPTER V 411 CHAPTER VI 414 CHAPTER VII 420 CHAPTER VIII 428 CHAPTER IX 434 CHAPTER X 438 CHAPTER XI 443 CHAPTER XII 448 CHAPTER XIII 454 CHAPTER XIV 459 NOTES Book I 467 Book II 472 Book III 473 Book IV 474 book1up BOOK I. b1down-ilo p3ilo THE WANDERINGS[D] OF PERSILES AND SIGISMUNDA. CHAPTER I. Periander is drawn up out of the Dungeon: he goes out to Sea on a raft: a Tempest comes on, and he is saved by a Ship. Near the mouth of a deep and narrow dungeon, which was more like a tomb than a prison to its wretched inmates, stood Corsicurbo, the barbarian. He shouted with a terrible voice, but, although the fearful clamour was heard far and near, none could hear his words distinctly, except the miserable Clelia, an unhappy captive, buried in this abyss. "Clelia," he said, "see that the boy who was committed to your custody two days ago, be bound fast to the cord I am about to let down; see that his hands are tied behind him, and make him ready to be drawn up here: also look well if among the women of the last prize there are any beautiful enough to deserve being brought amongst us, and to enjoy the light of the clear sky that is above us." So saying, he let down a strong hempen cord, and for some brief space he and four other barbarians pulled it, until, with his hands tied strongly behind him, they drew up a boy, seemingly about nineteen or twenty years of age, drest in linen like a mariner, but beautiful, exceedingly. The first thing the barbarians did was to investigate the manacles and cords with which his hands were tied behind his back; then they shook the locks of hair, which, like an infinity of rings of pure gold, covered his head. They cleaned his face, which had been obscured by dust, and revealed a beauty, so marvellous, that it softened and touched even the hearts of those who were carrying him to execution. The gallant boy showed no sort of affliction in his bearing, but with beaming eyes he uplifted his countenance, and looking round on every side, with a clear voice and firm accent, he cried, "I give thanks, O vast and pitying Heavens, that I have been brought out to die where your light will shine upon my death, and not where those dark dungeons, from which I have just arisen, would have covered me with their gloomy horrors; I would wish, because I am a Christian, not to die in despair at least, although my misfortunes are such as to make me almost desire it." None of this speech was understood by the barbarians, being spoken in a different language from theirs; so, closing the mouth of the cavern with a large stone, and carrying the boy, still bound, among the four, they arrived at the sea-shore, where they had a raft of timber fastened together with strong filaments of bark and flexible osiers. This contrivance served them, as soon appeared, for a boat, in which they crossed to another island, about two or three miles distant. They leaped upon the raft, and put their prisoner seated in the midst of them. Immediately one of the barbarians took a great bow that was in the raft, and fitting into it an enormous arrow, the point of which was made of flint, he quickly bent it, and looking the boy in the face, made him his mark, giving signs as if he would shoot him through the heart. The other barbarians took three heavy poles, cut like oars, and whilst one used his as a rudder, the other two impelled the raft in the direction of the island before mentioned. The beautiful boy, who alternately hoped and feared the blow of the threat'ning dart, rounded his shoulders, compressed his lips, arched his brows, and in deep silence asked in his heart of Heaven, not to be delivered from this death, as near as it was cruel, but that he might have strength given him to suffer. The savage archer, seeing this, and knowing that it was not by this manner of death he was to die; finding even in his hard heart some pity for the boy, and not desiring to give him a protracted suffering, still kept the arrow pointed at his breast, but put the bow aside, and let him know by signs, as well as he could, that he did not wish to kill him. Thus it befell, when the raft reached the middle of the strait, formed by the two islands, that there arose a sudden hurricane, which the inexperienced mariners had no power to withstand; the timbers that formed the raft, came asunder, and divided into parts, leaving in one (which might be composed of about six planks) the boy, who feared that the waves would speedily overwhelm him, and that by this death he was to die. Wild whirlwinds tossed the waters, contrary blasts contended together. The barbarians were all overwhelmed, and the planks, with the fast-bound captive, went out into the open sea, passing over the crests of the waves; not only impelling him towards heaven, but denying