Galatea

by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

With these last words the joyful Timbrio ended his tale, and all those that were present rejoiced at the happy issue his toils had had, Silerio's content passing beyond all that can be said. He, turning anew to embrace Timbrio, and constrained by the desire to learn who the person was that for his sake lived without content, begged leave of the shepherds, and went apart with Timbrio on one side, where he learned from him that the fair Blanca, Nisida's sister, was the one who loved him more than herself, from the very day and moment she learned who he was and the worth of his character, and that, so as not to go against what she owed to her honour, she had never wished to reveal this thought except to her sister, by whose agency she hoped to have honoured him in the fulfilment of her desires. Timbrio likewise told him how the gentleman Darinto, who came with him and of whom he had made mention in his late discourse, knowing who Blanca was, and carried away by her beauty, had fallen in love with her so earnestly that he asked her from her sister Nisida as his wife, and she undeceived him saying that Blanca would by no means consent; and that Darinto being angry thereat, believing that they rejected him for his little worth, Nisida, in order to free him from this suspicion, had to tell him how Blanca had her thoughts busied with Silerio; but that Darinto had not turned faint-hearted on this account, nor abandoned his purpose—'for as he knew that no news was known of you, Silerio, he fancied that the services he thought to render to Blanca, and the lapse of time, would make her desist from her first intention. And with this motive he would never leave us, until hearing yesterday from the shepherds sure tidings of your life, knowing the happiness that Blanca had felt thereat, and considering it to be impossible that Darinto could gain what he desired when Silerio appeared, he went away from all, without taking leave of anyone, with tokens of the greatest grief.'

Together with this Timbrio counselled his friend to be content that Blanca was to have him, choosing her and accepting her as wife, since he already knew her and was not ignorant of her worth and modesty; and he dwelt on the joy and pleasure they both would have seeing themselves wedded to two such sisters. Silerio asked him in reply to give him time to think about this action, though he knew that in the end it was impossible not to do what he bade him. At this moment the white dawn was already beginning to give tokens of its new approach, and the stars were gradually hiding their brightness; and at this point there came to the ears of all the voice of the love-sick Lauso, who, as his friend Damon had known that they must needs spend that night in Silerio's hermitage, wished to be with him, and with the other shepherds. And as it was all his pleasure and pastime to sing to the sound of his rebeck the prosperous or adverse issue of his love, carried away by his mood, and invited by the solitude of the road and by the delicious harmony of the birds, who were already beginning to greet the coming day with their sweet concerted song, he came singing in a low voice verses such as these:

LAUSO.

I lift my gaze unto the noblest part
That can be fancied by the loving thought,
Where I behold the worth, admire the art
That hath the loftiest mind to rapture brought;
But if ye fain would learn what was the part
That my free neck within its fierce yoke caught,
That made me captive, claims me as its prize,
Mine eyes it is, Silena, and thine eyes.

Thine eyes it is, from whose clear light I gain
The light that unto Heaven guideth me,
Of the celestial light a token plain,
Light that abhorreth all obscurity;
It makes the fire, the yoke, and e'en the chain,
That burns me, burdens, and afflicts, to be
Relief and comfort to the soul, a Heaven
Unto the life the soul hath to thee given.

Oh eyes divine! my soul's joy and delight,
The end and mark to which my wishes go,
Eyes, that, if I see aught, have given me sight,
Eyes that have made the murky day to glow;
My anguish and my gladness in your light
Love set; in you I contemplate and know
The bitter, sweet, and yet the truthful story
Of certain hell, of my uncertain glory.

In darkness blind I walked, when I no more
Was guided by your light, oh eyes so fair!
No more I saw the heavens, but wandered o'er
The world, 'midst thorns and brambles everywhere;
But at the very moment when the power
Of your bright clustered rays my soul laid bare,
And touched it to the quick, I saw quite plain
The path that leads to bliss, open and plain.

Ye, ye, it is, and shall be, cloudless eyes,
That do and can uplift me thus to claim
Amongst the little number of the wise,
As best I can, a high renownèd name;
This ye can do, if ye my enemies
Remain no longer, nor account it shame
Sometimes a glance to cast me, for in this—
Glancing and glances—lies a lover's bliss.

If this be true, Silena, none hath been,
Nor is, nor will be, who with constancy
Can or will love thee, as I love my queen,
However Love his aid, and fortune, be;
I have deserved this glory—to be seen
By thee—for my unbroken loyalty.
'Tis folly, though, to think that one can win
That which one scarce can contemplate therein.

The love-sick Lauso ended his song and his journey at the same moment, and he was lovingly received by all who were with Silerio, increasing by his presence the joy all had by reason of the fair issue Silerio's troubles had had; and, as Damon was telling them to him, there appeared close to the hermitage the venerable Aurelio, who, with some of his shepherds, was bringing some dainties wherewith to regale and satisfy those who were there, as he had promised the day before he left them. Thyrsis and Damon were astonished to see him come without Elicio and Erastro, and they were more so when they came to know the cause why they had stayed behind. Aurelio approached, and his approach would have increased the more the happiness of all, if he had not said, directing his words to Timbrio: