The Pilgrim of Castile; or, El Pelegrino in Su Patria

by Lope de Vega

But leaving apart a matter of so long a discourse, from whence is sprung the error of the Priscillianists, who believe that the soul and the body are necessarily subject to the stars, and many other errors which succeed this first; I desire thou shouldst know, that I speak according to custom, which willeth that this name Destiny, and other Christian idioms, be taken for misfortune, believing that nevertheless, God in his divine providence speaks by Destiny as men express the conceptions of their minds by words. Thy face (said the young man) promiseth no less, than what I have heard come from thy mouth; for thy presence and aspect is an index of thy nobleness, as thy tongue is of knowledge: which worketh in me a great pleasure, and desire to tell thee my name, my country, quality and my misfortunes, which if thou please to hearken unto with patience, I will as briefly as I can relate:

The History of Pamphilus and Celio.

"The city of Toledo, in the heart of Spain; strong by situation, noble by antiquity, famous for the preservation of the Christian faith ever since the time of the Goths, generous both in learning and arms, having a temperate heaven and a fertile Earth. Environed with the famous river Tagus, which is itself also begirt with a high but pleasant hill: it is the place where my now living parents were born, as also myself (although my ancestors in former times came from those parts of the Asturias which are called Santillana, the ancient title of the house of Mendoza) there was I brought up in my more tender years. But when my parents thought I was capable of learning, they sent me to the University of Salamanca, with such company as was fit for a man of my place, to the end that besides the Latin tongue which I knew already, I might study the knowledge of the law. Here I am constrained to make a long digression, because that of the history of another, depends the foundation of mine. My father had other children; Lisard his eldest son, who was in Flanders with the Archduke Albert, where he got no small reputation, principally in the siege of Ostend, and Nisa a daughter, and if I be not partial, one of most excellent beauty, who lived in that honour and good name unto which she was bound by the nobleness of her birth and the care of such parents.

Unto these terms was the young man proceeded in his discourse, whereat Pamphilus exceedingly troubled covered his face with his hands, whereof the other demanding a reason, Pamphilus said to him, that his grief which had brought him unto that estate wherein he found him was returned again, yet he thought it was with less violence than it had formerly done. All this Pamphilus feigned, because the story which the Toledan told him, was his own proper story, and this Nisa whom he called his sister, was the pilgrim whose wits were lost out of the apprehension of Pamphilus' death; so do acts dissembled many times meet, and sometimes do then reappear most when they are most endeavoured to be hidden. I will not proceed in my story, said he if thou find not thyself so well, that thou may hearken unto me; for there is no time worse employed than that which one loseth in speaking to them, which give no ear to the speaker. Thou may proceed, said Pamphilus, (being desirous to understand the estate of his own affairs) for I find my grief begins to leave me, eased by thy presence and thy words. I must tell thee then, said the young man, that there was in Madrid a brave Knight, and a great friend of my father's, with whom he had great inwardness of acquaintance, ever since the wars of Granada, and I think they were together in that famous Battle of Lepanto: from this friendship it followed, that at the end of some years, they treated of the marrying of my sister Nisa, with one of this knight's sons, of whom I now speak, and the young man's name was Pamphilus. But while these things were a-doing, the father of Pamphilus died, and the proposition of marriage ceased. Pamphilus who by the renown that went of my sister, as also by her picture, was taken in her love, and grew wonderful sad and melancholy, and falling from one imagination to another, in the end he resolved upon this which I shall tell thee, that thereby thou may see how innocent those were, who without the light of faith, did anciently believe in fortune and destinies. Which was, that making his mother believe that he would go into Flanders, and journeying some days in the habit and equipage of a man at arms, and after having sent his servants to Alcal�� de Henares, and there disguising himself in other clothes, he went to Toledo: where not being known to any person, he found means to be employed as a servant in my father's house, which was no hard matter to do, because that his excellent feature and countenance accompanied with his intelligence were pledges sufficient of his fidelity, and gave my father not only a desire to be served by him, but also to respect him. My father received him ignorant of his quality and of his intent (a strange imagination of a man, being a knight, and so well known almost of all, in the country wherein he was born; that he could so hide himself, at the door (as it were) of his own house, that nobody could know, either where he was or what he did) yet so it was, that his humility, his diligent service, and other commendable parts which he had, gained such credit with my parents, that I do believe he might as easily have compassed his designs with his feigned poverty, as with his true riches.

The chiefest thing whereunto he applied himself as his whole study, was to appear agreeable to Nisa, which was easy to be done, for who can guard himself from a domestic enemy? The simplicity wherewith this knight did begin his treason, and the good words which he used, gained him entrance into those places whereinto hardly and with great difficulty, could the ancient servants come. Behold with how little care, a noble gentleman kept in his house another Greek horse, like unto miserable Troy: for such of necessity must this young man's heart needs be full of thoughts and armed with malice, which (the hour of execution approaching) broke forth into such flames, as have fired our renown. When Pamphilus thought that Nisa was disposed to hearken to his intention, were it that his sickness were true, or feigned; as most likely it was, he made himself sick. My parents, who accounted of this servant as of their governor, and loved him equal with their dearest children, there being no key about the house, no account in all their expense, nor any secret in their affaires, wherein he was not trusted, caused him to be tended with all the care which was possible for love and respect to bring. The physicians said that this infirmity proceeded from a deep melancholy, and the best remedy that was to be given, was to rejoice him, and principally by music; In which they were not deceived, for if love does participate of the evil spirit, and that David drove away the evil spirit from Saul by the sweetness of his harp, by the same means love might be driven away. Thou sayest true, said Pamphilus, (who gave great attention unto the relation of his own story, to see to what end the discourse of this young man would come, who was his mistress' brother) for without doubt it holdeth many conditions of the evil spirit, and leaving apart the principal which is to torment with fire, behold the sympathy which they have one with the other. The devils do delight themselves in things which are naturally melancholy, inhabiting in horrible places, obscure and solitary, and loving darkness and sadness: all which qualities are common with them which love, and cannot attain to that which they pretend, they desire solitary places, and the dens of deserts, there to entertain in silence their sad thoughts, without anything to trouble them, no not the light of heaven. But let me entreat thee to proceed in thy story of this knight, for I desire with passion to know the end.

My sister Nisa, said Celio, then (for so was the young man called) could play admirable well of the lute, and sang so sweetly that in the like danger, the dolphin would more willingly have brought her to the shore, then he did Arion sometimes to Corinth. Wherefore by the consent of my parents, and not against her will, she went into Pamphilus' little chamber, (consider with thyself the happy glory of a man in his case) and sang a poem which he himself had composed, for he had that way a dextrous facility, and very natural; neither did it want the excellence of art. But whilst Nisa sang, Pamphilus wept, and never turned his eyes from hers; so that one resembled the crocodile, and the other a Siren, excepting that one sang to give him health, and the other wept to deceive her of her honour. Nisa seeing his extremity of sadness, said unto him that her intent was not that her music should have the same effect in him as it had in others, which is, to make them sadder, but contrarily her desire was to rejoice him. There is (answered he) no other voice nor other harmony, unless it may be the harmony of heaven, can rejoice me but yours: nevertheless my evil being past hope of cure, bindeth me to bewail myself, and not to think upon anything but upon the beauty which causeth it. What evil is that (said Nisa) past cure, which proceedeth from a cause commended by thee? It is an evil (answered Pamphilus) whereof I do hinder the cure, and whereof the only comfort is to know that I suffer it for the fairest creature in the world. The liberty wherein we live (said Nisa) doth give me leave Pamphilus, to speak unto the here of a suspicious matter: by the tokens which thou hast delivered unto me of thy evil, thou hast given me knowledge of the occasion that makes thee sick, although I am ignorant of the cause, who makes the sick: thou lovest without a doubt, and I take it in good part that thou wouldst confess unto me, that which thou wouldest not speak unto the physicians, assuring thee that thou may better trust my love then their art. But I conjure thee, by that goodwill which thou knowest I have born thee ever since thou hast served my parents that thou wilt tell me whether I know her whom thou lovest, and whether I can be helpful unto thee in thy curing, for thy tears doe make me pity thee. You may well serve to help me pitiful Nisa (said then the cunning lover, who might well have instructed Ovid) seeing I do not hope for it from any other hands than yours, and that you know the cause of my pain, as well as you know yourself."

Here Pamphilus demanded of Celio (wondering that he should tell so particularly that which passed so secretly between him and Nisa) how he knew the same words which they had spoken, he being at that time far off, following his study in Salamanca? To which Celio answered, that the same Pamphilus had left the story in writing with a friend of his, from whom having had the means since that time to get it, he learned all unto the least particular, and then proceeding on his discourse, he continued in this manner:

"The colour which came into Nisa’s face when she heard Pamphilus' words, cannot be compared, but unto the red rose with milky leaves, although it be a poetical term, and borrowed of the same author, yet feigning not to understand what he said, she answered that if it were any of her friends she would endeavour (at the least) to bring it about that she should know his evil, that thereupon he might lay the foundation of his remedy. I am in that state said Pamphilus that I dare not so much as sigh or breath out her name, yet I can show you her portrait, which is the original cause of my misfortune, and for whose sake I am come from my own country into yours, where I remain an humble servant of your house, and do think myself most happy to be so, although I am a knight, and equal unto her whom you call your friend, and with whom I should have been now married, if my father had lived until this day, for only his death barred me of this happiness. And in saying these words, Pamphilus gave her her picture, which had been drawn by the most excellent painter of our time, called Philip of Lianho; whose pencil oftentimes durst compare with Nature herself, who out of mere envy unto him for that (as it seemed) shortened his days. Yet Nisa (through whose veins ran a cold shivering) affirmed that she did not know the face; I do not wonder said Pamphilus, that the ancient philosopher hath delivered his opinion; that it is a very hard matter to know oneself, putting this sentence: Know Thyself, on the facades of the most famous temples. Yet see another more natural, the knowledge whereof you cannot deny. Saying this, he reached her a very fair looking-glass: Nisa seeing her face within the crystal could no longer suffer his discourse, nor the knight's presence: but rising up in a fury, said unto him in great anger as she went away, thy boldness shall cost thee thy life. Can it be better employed, answered Pamphilus, than for your beauty to be ended?"

She answered well, said the Pilgrim, if she had accomplished what she said. She accomplished it so ill, replied Celio, that within a few days she loved him better than she loved herself, proving the verse of the famous poet Dante to be infallibly true: that love excuseth no one who is beloved from loving. But how came it (said the pilgrim) that a maid should love; who had hearkened with so much disdain in the beginning? Because, answered Celio, that all maids for their first answer consult with shame, and for their second consult with weakness: although for my own part, I think that Pamphilus despairing of his remedy helped himself with charms. I cannot believe so, answered Pamphilus, a man hath liberty to love, and not to love as it seemeth good unto himself, and it seems to be a terrible and cruel thing that a chaste woman should be violently constrained to love, whether she would or no: charms and witchcraft may peradventure move, persuade and tempt without suffering to be in rest, and with these exterior persuasions make one yield unto the prayers and tears of a lover: yet for all this it cannot be said, that she is constrained but that of her goodwill, she giveth consent to her desire, suffering herself rather to be vanquished by her own proper nature, than by the force of any magic art. Wherefore it is an evident folly in those which love, to complain that they are violently constrained will he nil he, to follow their loves, because God never suffereth that the power of free will should be taken from Man; and if anyone say he hath been forced by diabolical persuasions, it may be answered, he was not forced in his reason, but in his concupiscence: neither is it to be believed that a knight, a Christian wise young and brave gentleman, would help himself with such wicked means to attain his ends. It is not likely, answered Celio, and it may be, that he witnessing his fidelity by other services, obliged her to condescend unto his will, for Nisa is not the only woman in this world subject to this weakness.

"Nevertheless, behold the strange accident which happened unto them both, as a beginning of their misfortunes; for it being rumoured at Madrid that Pamphilus was come from Flanders, the news thereof came unto my father's ears, who (desirous to make him his son in law, in favour of the ancient acquaintance and love he had with his father, and because that it had been formerly agreed between them) one day told her, that he was resolved to marry her, not naming unto whom; and thereupon writing to Madrid, to Pamphilus' mother, entreating her to send him to Toledo, congratulating also with her, her son's happy return and the prosperous success of his affairs, and remembered unto her the amity which he had contracted with her husband, his father. The sad Nisa, who already desperately loved Pamphilus, told him that her father would marry her, and the knight who was designed for her husband was shortly to come from Madrid unto their house, but she knew nothing in particular more of him, but that he was a brave soldier who lately came out of Flanders. Pamphilus (ignorant that he was the person who was meant) fell into great extremity at the news, and after many tears and other follies, he said he was resolved to be gone, for his heart would never suffer him to see a new servant unto his mistress in this house. A strange and never heard of story, that a man should be jealous of himself, and fly from his own presence. Nisa who now thought it as impossible for her to be without Pamphilus, as the Earth without water, fire without matter to burn, or as the celestial harmony without their first mover, said unto him in weeping, that she would have him take her away with him, and that she would follow him over the world; yet upon this condition, that he should swear solemnly, never to lose the respect which was due unto her honour: which oath being taken by Pamphilus without any consideration of the danger which might happen: he made choice of a dark night, and by a garden which answered upon the river, took her from the house, and by the same river went from the town, carrying her in his bark, until he came unto those mountains which are called Sisla: this was it which he writ afterwards from Valencia to a friend of his of Saragossa.