The History of Doricles
"In this famous city, which with a wonderful greatness opposeth Italy, and astonisheth Africa, there was born a lady of noble parentage, who having been a firebrand unto her country, had no small conformity with Greek Helen. Her name was Florinda, her beauty heavenly and her spirit divine, and she having attained unto years fit for marriage, two knights equal in youth, greatness of means and nobleness of blood did seek her love, with like hope but unlike favour. Love, natural inclination, a sympathy of manners or an influence of the stars did constrain Florinda to love Doricles and hate Filander, who to shorten his way between hope and possession, and to prevent his rival, demanded her in marriage of her parents, who would willingly have given the respect which they might unto the intercessor and his merits, had they not found that Florinda felt differently on gaining knowledge of the husband which they propounded to her. They loved her tenderly and would not constrain her with rigour, but speaking frankly to Filander, told him that she would not agree to it, although they had persuaded her as masters, and commanded as parents. Filander augmenting his love by her dislike, found out that the love which Florinda bore for Doricles was the cause of the disdain she bore him. The idea of revenge came to him, and he formed a resolution to remove from the world the obstacle of his design, notwithstanding the scandals and evils that so brutal an enterprise might bring. He armed himself with such company as he thought good (as he was not unprovided with friends nor wanted servants) at such times as he thought he might find Doricles at his mistress’s door, or in the street by her house. But his rival, dubious of his plans, always went well accompanied and better armed, as one who did not think that he could have a better friend than his sword. Having caused a ladder to be brought upon the eve of a feast unto her garden wall, by that means to speak with her, it happened that Filander coming into that street, and performing his usual office of spy, heard Florinda speak to Doricles, and saw her give him a nosegay of jasmine which she had in her hand, with embracings more insupportable to him than favourable to Doricles. He charged those which kept the gate, and began with them a cruel combat: Doricles comes down, and searching Philander in the midst of his enemies, wounds him and puts him to flight: for a favoured lover is as a gambler who wins, and in all hazards is always master of the fortunes of his adversary. Doricles goes away victorious out of the street, while Filander’s love (which had turned to disdain) became by this encounter a mortal hatred. Then either side increased their bands; the fire of their anger kindled all their parents; and although they every day spoke together as if they had no quarrel, they failed not to fight every night when they met. In this scandal Doricles lost the enjoying of his mistress, Filander her favour, she her renown and their parents their honour. Time increased the love of the one, while the other’s hatred increased his desire of revenge, and of the small pleasure which the two lovers had, Filander had the least, it seeming better to him in this business to rely upon his industry for the effecting of that which his strength would be wanting. Having then learned that Florinda was to take her pleasure at sea in a bark, he hid two or three days before a brigantine in a creek not far from the shore, in which he appareled himself like a Turk, with some other of his friends (for accomplices in amorous enterprises are seldom wanting) and with necessary rowers attended his mistress: the Meuxin, which is the tower where the watch of Barcelona is kept, having discovered that no enemies sailed in all the sea. In the meantime the contented Florinda with her companions was not gone from the shore a league when the counterfeit frigate hoisted sail, and beating the water with her oars, overtook her bark, the mariners whereof looking for nothing less than such a surprise, could not resolve either to fly or to defend themselves; but contrariwise (as the fearful bird seeing the proud merlin come fiercely stooping upon her, is accustomed to attend her with couched wings) acknowledging by the Turkish sails, the power of their enemies which were upon them, and quitted their oars; and fear (which with a cold shivering ran through all their veins) gave them no time to discern their deceit. Finally they boarded them, and two or three of the disguised Turks leaping into the bark ravished away the new Helen, who was carried into the brigantine and found herself in the arms of Filander. The counterfeit words of these pirates, who called him Murat Rais, made those who remained free in the bark believe that he was the author of this robbery, and seeing that they took nothing but Florinda, they returned again to Barcelona, recounting the disgrace in every street and place where they came, with more cries and tears than words, which coming to the ears of her parents, caused more grief in them then can be told, principally in her sorrowful mother, who bewailed her loss with a passion more befitting her sex than a generous courage. Mounted scouts in vain spurred up and down the coast, but Filander (who had brought Florinda into a private garden house, having taken away his turban and his Turkish disguise) declared unto her, that the incomparable force of his love had constrained him to have recourse to this deviousness, and did enjoy her beauty with assurance, although she took heaven, the trees and the fountains to witness the violence which was used on her.
Of no less consideration was Doricles’ pain, who full of mortal sorrow, was a thousand times by the sea’s side ready to imitate the despair of those nymphs which saw Europa ravished; nevertheless, and as well to oblige unto him his mistress’s parents, and to satisfy himself, he bought a ship of an Aragonese, which had brought in wheat, and loading it with silks, velvets and other merchandise gave his sails to the wind, turning his prow toward Argiere, Sali, Morat, Fuchel, Mami, Xafer, and other pirate haunts; Doricles enquired amongst them of his mistress, and of as many others as he knew did rob upon the coast of Spain. But when he met with none who could tell him news of her, whom his rival enjoyed with such pleasure, he went to Constantinople, and from thence unto Cairo, and having run along the coast of the kingdoms of Fez, Morocco, Tarndan, and Tafilet, despairing of ever finding her, whom he had so long time, and so vainly sought, changed his merchandise into Christian slaves and returning into Spain, disembarked at Ceuta. While the deceived Doricles did thus run along the coast of Africa, a servant of Filander, were it either out of some displeasure which he had taken, or out of envy of his happiness, revealed all the proceeding unto the Justice of Barcelona, who in the night following besieged the garden house, with main force, and took Filander then when he least expected it. The news and admiration, which his subtility and surprise caused in the city, moved the citizens confusedly to see him pass through the streets; through the midst of whom he was borne to prison, and the sorrowful maid (already made a woman against her will) was rendered unto her parents; the sentence was mortal, the opinion common, the approbation general, and the process short. The scaffold was ready, Filander disposed himself to die, and made it appear that he had the courage of a knight, and the soul of a Christian; nevertheless the Viceroy and the Bishop, interposing their authority, assembled the parents, and having mollified the nearest, dissuaded Filander’s death, in respect of the honour which they might gain by his life. So of two evils choosing the least, they had more care to the reparation of their honour, than to the contentment of revenge; thus they changed the mourning which was already provided for Filander into nuptial habits, and the scaffold into a bed, where Florinda was given him in lawful marriage: but the same day that they joined hands with the contentment and rejoicing of all the world, Doricles entered into the city, and unlooked for appeared at the head of two hundred men, whom he had drawn out of captivity, upon whose casques did shine in silver broidery the arms of Barcelona and their restorer; his word was I love the King. The sight and entry of this heroic citizen was exceedingly agreeable and dear unto the Barcelonians; but the insupportable news of his rival’s marriage with his mistress was no sooner come unto Doricles’ ears, but all the city in arms were divided into factions, and contrary parties. This suspended the marriage for some days, during which time it was remonstrated unto Doricles, that he could not marry Florinda without infamy. He answered that what he could not have, ought not to be given to Filander, it being in no way reasonable that this deceiver should gain by fraud what he had lost by so much travail; and there was no other means to accord him, but that Florinda should retire into a monastery. This distressed her parents who were already contented with the satisfaction of their honour, and the alliance of their son in law, whose parents offered unto Doricles a beautiful sister of Filander in marriage; but he unwilling thereunto, demanded justice against Filander for his crime, offering that after he should be beheaded he would marry Florinda as widow unto a knight. This last offer was in principle agreed unto by Filander’s and Florinda’s parents, but when Doricles thought that Filander had been led to prison, and from thence to death, he was given to understand how he was pardoned, and the marriage consummated. If his sorrow were great it may be known by the effects, seeing it is now twenty years since, from these Pyrennean mountains which divide France from Spain, he hath lived as an outlaw, robbed, pillaged and ruined all that he finds, neither kingdoms being able to take any revenge. He was one and twenty years old when he came from Africa: he is now forty one: a strong man, vigorous of his person, which is much fortified by his austere and wild life. And that may be believed of him, which was said of Hercules, that without doubt he had three lives, for if he had had but one, it had been a miracle that he had not lost it by so many wounds.
This day about sunrise he came down to see what noise this was, which the night before had sounded from the sea unto the woods, and he with about ten of us which followed him having found some boards which the sea had cast up, upon one of which was seated a young man in habit of a pilgrim like thyself, pale, in a trance, all drenched in water, his hair full of dirt and sand, and to conclude, evil accommodated with this tempest. He commanded us to carry him to that place where the rest of his men were, and as well to dry him as to get him breath, which he had almost lost, we endeavoured to unclothe him, but he refusing to be seen or to be touched by us, it made our captain suspect that he was not a man, for although he enforced himself to appear so, yet his actions showed the clean contrary; when as preventing the desire which the captain had to be cleared of his sex, this pilgrim of whom I tell thee (taking him aside) confessed that she was a woman, who came in this habit from Italy, with her husband; in which voyage, they had suffered shipwreck upon this shore: and in saying this, shame and desire to defend herself brought colour into her face, and valour into her heart; with one, she appeared perfectly fair, and with the other extremely hardy: Nevertheless her beauty being more powerful to hurt others, than her strength to defend herself, hath vanquished Doricles’ mind, who with sweet and courteous words persuaded her to rest this day in his company, during which time her face hath never been without tears. In the meantime he commanded, after sunset, that his supper and his bed should be provided in one of those villages, but we instantly heard that some charge of money which was to be carried to Genoa, should come this way, and having waited for them until midnight, we were without both supper and lodging: for this cause we sent two of our companions before, who are they which found you together with him who conducted us hither; Doricles is now with this pilgrim; I cannot tell thee whether he hath gained her or no, nor whether the bed had made a peace between two minds so absolutely differing: but certain it is that they are now lodged together."
The soldiers easily perceived that the pilgrim hearing this story, bathed his face with his tears, and with sad and violent sighings endeavoured to pierce heaven: they desiring the cause, he remaining a long time silent, and they still pressing him; in the end he began to cry out: Oh miserable wretch that I am, I have lost my honour, my glory is destroyed, my hope is dead, by the hands and weakness of a woman. Oh that ever the sea pardoned my life, since that with so much pity, it reserved thine, to the end that my eyes might be witnesses (after so many labours and dangers) of such an offence. Well did the soldiers know that this was the man whom the pilgrim respected, and the true north star unto which she turned the needle of her affection: but they endeavouring to comfort him, so much increased his fury, that drawing forth his sword out of his pilgrim’s staff, the outside whereof served as a scabbard, he ran enraged out of the house unto the house where the captain lay, and there gave such blows upon the door, and such loud cries, that the captain thinking he had been assailed by the Justice or by the inhabitants of that place, leaped out of his bed in his shirt, his pistol in his hand, and opening the door asked Who was there? A wretched man, answered the pilgrim with an incredible fierceness, and one from whom thou hast taken his honour, with this vile woman which thou dost possess. Doricles discharged his pistol and the pilgrim turning his body, the bullet lit in his arm. All the company ran thither at the noise, and the valiant Catalonian disposed himself to strike quicker than the lightning come out of thunder sent by Jove against the giants, when the miserable pilgrim woman, embracing him with prayers, begged the pilgrim’s life, saying unto Doricles, that this man was he whom she did only acknowledge for her master, and on the other side assuring her desperate husband that she had not transgressed against her honour, neither in deed, word nor thought; because his prayers had not vanquished her, and his threats could never. I do not know if it ought to be believed of a woman: the history commendeth her chastity, and I do religiously believe the virtue of this sex so much esteemed by me, and so greatly held in account all my life. Doricles would willingly that the pilgrim should have been contented with his life, which he would leave him, and that he should have gone away without the woman, but the incensed Castilian defying him to a single combat, began to defame him, and provoke him in such manner, that he commanded his soldiers to hang him up at the next tree of the mountain: hardly was the word out of the captain’s mouth, when the pilgrim found himself carried out of the village by those barbarous fellows, and upon his way towards the wood where he should be branched up. Finding himself then at the place of execution and in the presence of an inevitable death, he entreated them with tears that they would let him recommend his soul to him that was the author thereof; which being permitted unto him, he drew out of his bosom an image of the blessed Virgin; which holding up, with his eyes and his hands to heaven, he began his prayers devoutly, having the match of one of their pieces about his neck near unto him who tied it to a bough of a great oak, only waiting for the end of his devotions: nevertheless even as he fastened the last knot, the fair morning rejoicing the world with new light, clearly discovered the amiable colour of his face.
Who will believe that in the space of one night so many fortunes should happen to one man, if it were not known that things are written to be marked, and that evils do seldom come alone, seeing that the evils which happen in one night to one unfortunate man, do surpass all the prosperity which can happen to a fortunate man in all his life? The soldiers seeing the honest and grave countenance of this pilgrim, his youth and his innocence, and being otherwise mollified with his prayers; or having their hearts secretly touched by the hands of God, for he who hardened Pharaoh’s heart can mollify others, they resolved to let him live, not willing to be more cruel than the sea, which the day before had cast him upon land from drowning; and thinking it was an infamous cruelty, that he who had been spared by things without sense, should be destroyed by them who ought to have reason. The pilgrim gave them thanks for their liberality, and referring their reward unto heaven, entreated them that if by chance, this woman which he had left, did persevere in the firmness of her speech, they should tell her that she should find him at Barcelona: this said, he took his way towards the city, and the soldiers towards the village. But the feigned news of his death which they were constrained to deliver unto Doricles, so much deprived the sorrowful pilgrim woman of sense (whom he had already thrust out of his chamber, being vexed with her cries) that she remained a long time as dead, and when as she was come again unto herself, she did and said so many pitiful things, that these fierce men most accustomed to shed blood, did now shed tears. So that the captain despairing of ever being able to pacify her, and thinking that the beginnings of extreme grief do easily pass to a frenzy, commanded that she should be carried upon the great highway; where the miserable woman was left, drowning herself in tears, and murdering her face with her hands, she made herself look with great deformity: from thence following the way by the seaside she went to Valencia.
The pilgrim in the meantime was at Barcelona, having stayed two days, to view the goodly strong walls of the city; the third day as he was beholding the Viceroy’s palace, this fisherman, whose voice had so unhappily drawn him from the cabins of the other fishermen, and as a deceitful hyena had called him to bring his life into such danger, knew him, and demanded of him if he were not the thief, which entertained him the other night with words, until his companions came and entering by force into the houses of the village, had robbed them and pillaged them? It is true answered the pilgrim, that I am he who by the sound of thy voice came out of the cabins of men of thy profession, but not he who came with the robbers which you speak of: upon this they contested one against the other, insomuch that the people ran to the noise; and as to be pursued with hue and cry, there needs no more cause but to be a stranger, so all the world believing in the natural Catalonian’s words, the poor pilgrim was impetuously carried away by the people, and as a robber put into prison.
The infamous rabble who for crimes great or small are accustomed to possess these places, which are like so many true representations of Hell, put him into a dark corner worse than the worst sink of Constantinople, where it is impossible to recite the blows they gave him, and the injuries they said unto him: because having no metal about him but the bullet, which Doricles shot into him the night of his misfortune, he had not wherewith to pay his garnish or entrance, nor ability to find better means to appease them.
Night victorious over human cares, imposing rest unto their labours and their thoughts, and reducing their actions to a deep silence came amongst these barbarous people, yet the miserable stranger only not so much as closing his eyes: he felt not the grief of his wound, not the infamy of his imprisonment, all that which troubled him, and all that which he feared, was the pilgrim woman’s losing of her honour, which wrought so with him, that whilst others slept in this confusion, without that the want of beds, the importunity of many noisome creatures, which run up and down in the prison, the fear of judgement to come, nor the present misfortune could wake them; our pilgrim only is awake, complaining against heaven, the sea, and his cruel fortune which had preserved his life, then, when he had no feeling of death, to make him suffer it now in a state so sensible.
At the length the sun with a countenance full of shame and as if he had been constrained, shone through the thick bars of the prison windows, showing in the pale colour of his beams, that he feared he should be kept there, when the pleasant blows of the jailer, and the sweet noise which his keys made in the strong locks, awaked from their forgetfulness those unto whom the fear of punishment for their faults could work no remembrance: but the pilgrim was not waked, because he was not asleep; he came out amongst the rest nevertheless to give thanks to the day, for having passed over so miserable a night. There began this miserable body to move his parts, going many leagues in a little space: prayers importuned some, care wearied others; necessity called out here, hunger sighed there, and Liberty was wished for everywhere: the laws called upon execution, ministers upon punishment, and favour importuned for delay; those who had wherewith went out by the air, others not having wherewith could not find the door; the confusion of voices, the unquietness of the judge, the coming in of some, the going out of others, and the noise of fetters, made in this discordant instrument a fearful striving.
In this time, a knight, who for the nobleness of his blood, and the antiquity of his imprisonment, was generally respected as the master, cast his eyes upon the pilgrim, and considering his deep melancholy, his habit and his person, incited by his good countenance and aspect, (for there is no letter of favour which worketh greater effects in all necessities) called him to a little alley which answered to the door of his chamber, and asked his name, his country, and the cause of his imprisonment. The pilgrim recited unto him the success which you have heard, beginning his life, from the time that the sea gave it him, by casting him upon the shore not far from the walls of Barcelona. The knight wondered at it, and collecting from his reasons, and the manner of his speech, his understanding and his gentleness, took such affection unto him, that he placed him in his chamber: where having restored his weak forces, with conserves which he had, he made him reveal his arm, and he himself healed the wound with medicines and words, which he had learned being a soldier; for if herbs and stones have this virtue, wherefore should it be wanting to holy words?
The contented pilgrim afterwards turning his eyes round about the chamber, saw written upon the walls with a coal according to the ancient manner of prisoners, certain hieroglyphic verses, at the sight whereof, he knew that he who had written them was not ignorant. Over the picture of a young man, which had the chief place, was written this verse from Virgil:
in somnis ecce ante oculos maestissimus Hector
After that was painted a heart with wings, which flew after death with the letter of Aeneas, sending the body of his friend to the great Evander.
mortuus Pallante
Near unto that was figured Prometheus, or Titius, who being tied with strong chains to the rocks of Mount Caucasus, nourished an Eagle with his entrails, the words were from Ovid, and said thus:
Vitae dolor, vita molestiae et magnis gratos fore morte, sed mori non potest
By a river, between two infernal shores, Forgetfulness was painted, being a young man who carried a vessel full of remembrances, which he did endeavour to fling into the water, with these words of Lucretius:
Cadit iterum cum pervenit usque ad summum
The head and harp of Orpheus were portrayed upon a gate amongst the waves of the river Hebrus, into which he had been cast by the Bacchantes, they came unto Lesbos, the words were these:
Hic flevit gerit, feras et genimina viperarum
There was also painted a lady lying dead with a sword through her body, with these words of Scaliger upon the death of Polyxena:
Non satis vincere homines?
In the distance which might be between the window and the flower, was painted the giant Argus with his hundred eyes, and Mercury charming him asleep, with this Vespasian epigram:
Subtilis amor maxime inutilis dolis
With such and other curiosities, which the Knight writ as aptly fitting his adventures, did he adorn his chamber and pass away his tedious imprisonment.
Whilst that the Pilgrim was busy in beholding these conceits, he was called before the judges to answer the accusation against him, and he relating simply the truth, by the little art which he brought with him in his speech, he plainly showed that there was no guilt in him; his cause being recommended unto the judges by the knight, who writ his innocence unto them, he was acquitted and brought back again into the knight’s chamber, where they ate together. Their discourse which at the end of dinner served for their last dish (amongst other things) fell upon their misfortunes, because that there is nothing which more aptly, and readily doth ease the mind than relation of our own misadventures. The master of the lodging (who could willingly have spared that name) being entreated by the pilgrim to relate the cause of his imprisonment, began to speak in this manner: