Galatea

by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

Now that silent is the wind
And the peaceful sea at rest,
Let my pain no silence find,
For my grieving from my breast
Issue soul with voice conjoined;
To recount wherefore I grieve,
Showing that my grief in part
Comes perforce, the soul must give
Tokens, and likewise the heart,
Of the deadly pangs that live.

Once Love bore me off in flight
Through the ranks of bitter woe,
Raising me to Heaven's height:
Death and Love to earth below
Now have hurled this hapless wight;
Love and death it was ordained
Such a love and death as this,
O'er sweet Nisida they reigned,
From her woe and from my bliss
Fame unending they attained.

With new voice, more terrible
Henceforth, and with awesome sound,
Fame will make it credible
That Love is a champion found
And death is invincible;
Satisfied the world will be
At their might, whene'er it knows
How the twain have wrought in me:
Death her glorious life did close,
Love my bosom holds in fee.

But I think, since I am brought
Nor to madness nor to death
By the anguish they have wrought,
That death little power hath,
Or that feeling I have not;
For if I but feeling had,
So the increasing anguish strives
Everywhere to drive me mad,
Though I had a thousand lives,
Countless times had I been dead.

My surpassing victory
By the death was famous made
Of the life, which needs must be
Chief of all the past displayed
Or the present age can see;
Therefrom I achieved as prize
Grief within my loving heart,
Countless tears within my eyes,
In my soul confusion's smart,
In my true breast agonies.

Cruel hand of him my foe,
Hadst thou but my doom fulfilled,
I had held thee friend, for, lo!
In the slaying thou hadst stilled
All the anguish of my woe!
What a bitter reckoning
Victory brought, for I shall pay—
And I feel it as I sing—
For the pleasure of a day
With an age-long suffering!

Sea, that hearkenest to my cry,
Heaven, that didst my woe ordain,
Love, that causest me to sigh,
Death, that hast my glory ta'en,
End ye now my agony!
Sea, my lifeless corse receive,
Heaven, to my soul grant thy calm,
Love, to fame the tidings give,
That death carried off the palm
From this life that doth not live!

Heaven, Love, and death and sea,
Now to aid me linger not,
Make an end of ending me,
For 'twill be the happiest lot
Ye can give and I foresee!
If sea doth not drowning give,
And Heaven welcome doth deny,
If Love must for ever live,
And I fear I shall not die,
Where can I repose receive?

'I remember that I came to these last verses I have repeated, when, without being able to proceed further, interrupted by countless sighs and sobs which I sent forth from my hapless breast, afflicted by the memory of my misfortunes, from merely feeling them I came to lose my senses by such a paroxysm that for a good while it held me unconscious; but after the bitter attack had passed, I opened my wearied eyes and found my head lying in the lap of a woman, dressed in pilgrim's attire, and at my side was another, decked in the same garb, who was holding my hands whilst both wept tenderly. When I saw myself in that position, I was amazed and confused, and was doubting whether it was a vision I saw, for never had I seen such women in the ship since I had gone on board. But the fair Nisida here—for she was the pilgrim who was there—drew me from this confusion, saying to me: "Ah, Timbrio, my true lord and friend, what false fancies or what luckless accidents have caused you to be placed where you now are, and my sister and me to take such little account of what we owed to our honour, and without heeding any difficulty to have wished to leave our beloved parents and our wonted garb, with the intention of looking for you and of undeceiving you about my so doubtful death which might have caused yours in reality?" When I heard such words, I became quite convinced that I was dreaming, and that it was some vision I had before my eyes, and that my ceaseless thoughts that did not depart from Nisida were the cause that represented her there to my eyes alive. A thousand questions I asked them and in all they completely satisfied me, before I could calm my understanding and assure myself that they were Nisida and Blanca. But when I came to learn the truth, the joy I felt was such that it, too, well-nigh brought me to the pass of losing my life as the past grief had done. Then I learned from Nisida how your mistake and neglect, oh Silerio, in making the signal of the kerchief, was the cause why she, believing that some ill had befallen me, fell into such a swoon and faint, that all believed her to be dead, as I thought, and you, Silerio, believed. She also told me how, after coming to herself, she learned the truth of my victory together with my sudden and hasty departure, and your absence, the news of which brought her to the verge of making true that of her death; but as it did not bring her to the last extreme, it caused her and her sister, by the artifice of a nurse of theirs who came with them, to dress themselves in the attire of pilgrims, and in disguise to go away from their parents one night when they were approaching Gaeta on the return they were making to Naples. And it was at the time when the ship on which I had embarked, having been repaired after the storm which had passed, was on the point of departing; and telling the captain they wished to cross over to Spain to go to Santiago of Galicia, they agreed with him and embarked with the intention of coming to seek me at Xeres, where they thought to find me or to learn some news of me; and all the time they had been in the ship, which would be four days, they had not left a cabin which the captain had given them in the stern, until, hearing me sing the verses I have repeated to you, and recognising me by the voice, and by what I said in them, they came out at the moment I have told you, when, celebrating with joyous tears the happiness of having found one another, we were looking at one another, without knowing with what words to increase our new and unexpected joy, which would have grown the greater, and would have reached the point and pass it has now reached, if we had then known any news of you, friend Silerio. But, as there is no pleasure which comes so perfect as wholly to satisfy the heart, in that we then felt, there was wanting to us, not only your presence, but even news of it. The brightness of the night, the cool and pleasing wind (which favouring and gentle at that moment began to strike the sails), the calm sea and the cloudless sky, it seems, all together, and each by itself, helped to celebrate the joy of our hearts. But fickle fortune, from whose disposition one can make sure of no stability, envious of our happiness, chose to disturb it by the greatest mishap that could have been imagined, had not time and favouring circumstances turned it to a better issue. It happened then that at the time the wind began to freshen, the busy sailors hoisted all the sails higher and assured themselves of a safe and prosperous voyage to the general joy of all. One of them, who was seated on one side of the bow, discovered by the brightness of the moon's low rays, that four rowing vessels with long-drawn-out stroke were approaching the ship with great speed and haste, and at the moment he knew that they were an enemy's, and with loud cries began to shout: "To arms, to arms, for Turkish vessels are in sight!" This cry and sudden alarm caused such panic in all the crew of the ship, that, without being able to take thought for the approaching danger, they looked at one another; but its captain (who had sometimes seen himself in similar circumstances), coming to the bow, sought to learn how large the vessels were and how many, and he discovered two more than the sailor, and recognised that they were galliots with slave crews, whereat he must needs have felt no small fear. But, dissembling as best he could, he straightway ordered the guns to be prepared and the sails to be trimmed as much as possible to meet the opposing vessels so as to see if he could go between them and let the guns play on every side. Straightway all rushed to arms, and, dispersed at their posts, as well as could be, awaited the coming of the enemy. Who will be able to express to you, sirs, the pain I felt at this moment, seeing my happiness disturbed with such quickness, and myself so near the chance of losing it, and the more when I saw Nisida and Blanca looking at each other without speaking a word, confused by the uproar and shouting there was in the ship, and seeing myself asking them to shut themselves up in their cabin and pray to God to deliver us from the enemy's hands? This was a situation which makes the imagination faint when the memory recalls it; their open tears, and the violence I did myself so as not to show mine, held me in such a way that I had almost forgotten what I ought to do, who I was, and what the danger required. But at last I made them withdraw almost fainting to their cabin, and shutting them in from outside, hastened to see what the captain was ordering. He with prudent care was providing everything necessary for the emergency, and entrusting to Darinto, the gentleman who left us to-day, the guard of the forecastle, and handing over to me the poop, he with some sailors and passengers hurried through all the waist of the ship from one part to another. The enemy did not delay much in approaching, and the wind delayed rather less in growing calm, which was the complete cause of our ruin. The enemy did not dare to board, for, seeing that the weather was growing calm, it seemed to them better to wait for the day in order to attack us. They did so, and, when the day came, though we had already counted them, we saw finally that it was fifteen big vessels that had surrounded us, and then the fear of being lost was at once confirmed in our breasts. Nevertheless, the valiant captain, not losing heart—nor did any of those who were with him,—waited to see what the enemy would do. They, as soon as morning came, lowered a boat from their flagship, and sent by a renegade to tell our captain to surrender, since he saw he could not defend himself against so many vessels, and the more so that they were all the best in Algiers, threatening him on behalf of Arnaut Mami, his general, that if the ship discharged a single piece, he would hang him from a yard-arm when he caught him, and the renegade, adding to these other threats, urged him to surrender. But the captain, not wishing to do so, told the renegade in reply to sheer off from the ship or he would send him to the bottom with the guns. Arnaut heard this reply, and straightway priming the guns of his ship everywhere, began to play them from a distance with such speed, fury, and din, that it was a marvel. Our ship began to do the same with such good fortune that she sent to the bottom one of the vessels that were attacking her at the stern, for she hit her with a ball close to the harpings, in such a manner that the sea swallowed her without receiving any succour. The Turks, seeing this, hurried on the fight, and in four hours attacked us four times and as many times retired with great loss on their part, and no small loss on ours. But, not to weary you by relating to you in detail the things that happened in this fight, I will only say that after we had fought sixteen hours, and after our captain and nearly all the crew of the ship had perished, at the end of nine assaults they made upon us, at the last they furiously boarded the ship. Though I should wish, yet I cannot exaggerate the grief that came to my soul when I saw that my beloved darlings whom now I have before me, must needs then be handed over to, and come into the power of those cruel butchers; and so, carried away by the wrath this fear and thought caused in me, I rushed with unarmed breast through the midst of the barbarous swords, desirous of dying from the cruelty of their edge, rather than to see with my eyes what I expected. But things came to pass differently from what I had feared, for, three stalwart Turks grappling with me, and I struggling with them, we all fell up confusedly against the door of the cabin where Nisida and Blanca were, and with the force of the blow the door was broken open, displaying the treasure that was there enclosed. The enemy lusting after it, one of them seized Nisida and the other Blanca; and I, seeing myself free from the two made the other who held me leave his life at my feet, and I thought to do the same with the two, had they not, warned of the danger, given up their hold of the two ladies and stretched me on the floor with two great wounds. Nisida, seeing this, threw herself upon my wounded body and with lamentable cries begged the two Turks to finish her. At this moment, drawn by the cries and laments of Nisida and Blanca, Arnaut, the general of the vessels, hurried up to the cabin, and, learning from the soldiers what was going on, had Nisida and Blanca carried to his galley, and at Nisida's prayer also gave orders for them to carry me thither, since I was not yet dead. In this manner, without my being conscious, they carried me to the enemy's flagship, where I was straightway tended with some diligence, for Nisida had told the captain that I was a man of rank and of great ransom, with the intention that, tempted by the bait of covetousness and of the money they might get from me, they should look after my health with somewhat more care. It happened then, that, as my wounds were being tended, I returned to consciousness with the pain of them, and turning my eyes in every direction, I knew I was in the power of my enemies, and in the enemy's vessel; but nothing touched my soul so much as to see at the stern of the galley Nisida and Blanca sitting at the feet of the dog of a general, shedding from their eyes countless tears, the tokens of the inward grief they were suffering. Neither the fear of the shameful death I was awaiting when you, good friend Silerio, in Catalonia freed me from it; neither the false tidings of Nisida's death, believed by me as true; neither the pain of my deadly wounds, nor any other affliction I might imagine, caused me, nor will cause more anguish than that which came to me at seeing Nisida and Blanca in the power of that barbarous unbeliever, where their honour was placed in such imminent and manifest peril. The pain of this anguish worked so much upon my soul that I once again lost my senses, and took away the hope of my health and life from the surgeon who was tending me, in such a manner that believing I was dead, he stopped in the midst of his tending of me, assuring all that I had already passed from this life. When this news was heard by the two hapless sisters, let them say what they felt, if they make so bold, for I can only say that I afterwards learned that the two, rising from where they were, tearing their ruddy locks, and scratching their fair faces, without anyone being able to hold them back, came to where I lay in a faint, and there began to make so piteous a lament, that they moved to compassion the very breasts of the cruel barbarians. By reason of Nisida's tears which were falling on my face, or through the wounds already cold and swollen which caused me great pain, I returned again to consciousness, to be conscious of my new misfortune. I will pass in silence now the piteous and loving words that in that hapless moment passed between Nisida and myself, so as not to sadden so much the joyous moment in which we now find ourselves, nor do I wish to relate in detail the dire straits she told me she had passed through with the captain. He, overcome by her beauty, made her a thousand promises, a thousand gifts, a thousand threats, that she might come to submit to his lawless will; but showing herself towards him as scornful as modest, and as modest as scornful, she was able all that day and the following night to defend herself from the hateful importunities of the corsair. But as Nisida's continued presence went on increasing in him every moment his lustful desire, without any doubt it might have been feared, as I did fear, that by his abandoning his prayers and using violence, Nisida might lose her honour or life, the latter being the likelier to be expected from her virtue. But fortune, being now weary of having placed us in the lowest stage of misery, chose to show us that what is published abroad of her instability is true, by a means which brought us to the pass of praying Heaven to keep us in that hapless lot, instead of losing our lives on the swollen billows of the angry sea: which after two days that we were captives, and at the time we were taking the direct course to Barbary, moved by a furious sirocco, began to rise mountains high, and to lash the pirate fleet with such fury, that the wearied oarsmen, without being able to avail themselves of the oars, bridled them and had recourse to the wonted remedy of the foresail on the mast, and of letting themselves run wherever the wind and sea listed. And the tempest increased in such a manner that in less than half an hour it scattered and dispersed the vessels in different directions, without any of them being able to give heed to following their captain, but rather in a little while, all being separated as I have said, our vessel came to be left alone, and to be the one that danger threatened most; for she began to make so much water through her seams, that however much they bailed her in all the cabins at the stern, bow, and mizzen, the water in the bilge all the time reached the knee. And to all this misfortune was added the approach of night, which in such cases, more than in any others, increases dread fear; and it came with such darkness and renewed tempestuousness, that we all wholly despaired of help. Seek not to learn more, sirs, save that the very Turks begged the Christians, who were captives at the oar, to invoke and call on their saints and their Christ, to deliver them from such misfortune, and the prayers of the wretched Christians who were there were not so much in vain that high Heaven moved by them let the wind grow calm, nay rather it increased it with such force and fury, that at break of day, which could only be told by the hours of the sand-glass by which they are measured, the ill-steered vessel found herself off the coast of Catalonia, so near land, and so unable to get away from it, that it was necessary to hoist the sail a little higher, in order that she might drive with more force upon a wide beach which offered itself to us in front; for the love of life made the slavery the Turks expected appear sweet to them. Scarcely had the galley driven ashore, when straightway there hurried down to the beach a number of people armed, whose dress and speech showed them to be Catalans, and the coast to be Catalonia, and even the very spot where at the risk of yours, friend Silerio, you saved my life. Who could exaggerate now the joy of the Christians, who saw their necks free and relieved from the unbearable and heavy yoke of bitter captivity; and the prayers and entreaties the Turks, free a little while before, made to their own slaves, begging them to see that they were not ill-treated by the angry Christians, who were already awaiting them on the beach, with the desire of avenging the wrong these very Turks had done them, in sacking their town, as you, Silerio, know? And the fear they had did not turn out vain for them, for the people of the place, entering the galley which lay stranded on the sand, wrought such cruel havoc on the corsairs that very few were left with life; and had it not been that the greedy desire of sacking the galley blinded them, all the Turks had been killed in this first onslaught. Finally the Turks who remained, and we captive Christians who came there, were all plundered; and if the clothes I wore had not been stained with blood, I believe they would not have left me even them. Darinto who was also there, helped straightway to look after Nisida and Blanca, and to see that I might be taken ashore to be tended there. When I came out and recognised the place where I was, and considered the danger in which I had seen myself there, it did not fail to give me some anxiety, caused by the fear of being known and punished for what I ought not to be; and so I begged Darinto to arrange for us to go to Barcelona without making any delay, telling him the cause that moved me to it. But it was not possible, for my wounds distressed me in such a way that they forced me to be there for some days, as I was, without being visited save by a surgeon. In the meantime Darinto went to Barcelona, whence he returned, providing himself with what we needed; and, as he found me better and stronger, we straightway took the road for the city of Toledo, to learn of Nisida's kinsmen if they knew of her parents, to whom we have already written all the late events of our lives, asking forgiveness for our past errors. And all the happiness and grief from these good and evil events has been increased and diminished by your absence, Silerio. But since Heaven has now, with such great blessings, given a remedy to our calamities, there remains naught else save that you, friend Silerio, should render it fitting thanks therefor, and banish the past sadness by reason of the present joy, and endeavour to give it to one who for many days has for your sake lived without it, as you shall learn when we are more alone, and I acquaint you therewith. There remain some other things for me to tell, which have happened to me in the course of this my journey; but I must leave them for the nonce, so as not, by reason of their tediousness, to displease these shepherds, who have been the instrument of all my delight and pleasure. This, then, friend Silerio and shepherd friends, is the issue of my life. Mark if, from the life I have gone through and from that I go through now, I can call myself the most ill-starred and the happiest man of those that are living to-day.'