Galatea

by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

And then, blest souls that dwell in Heaven, behold

The good that I desire,

Enlarge the wings of this my good desire.

Here ceased the voice, but not the sighs of the hapless swain who had sung, and both served to increase in Elicio the desire to know who he was. And bursting through the thorny brambles so as to reach more quickly the spot whence the voice proceeded, he came to a little meadow which, in the fashion of a theatre, was girt all round with very dense and tangled shrubs; and there he saw a shepherd who was standing in an attitude of great vigour, with his right foot advanced and his left behind, his right arm raised in the manner of one hoping to make a mighty throw. And such was the truth, for at the noise which Elicio had made in bursting through the bushes, he, thinking it was some wild beast (against which the woodland shepherds were forced to defend themselves), had placed himself in a position to hurl at him a weighty stone he was holding in his hand. Elicio, perceiving his intent by his posture, before he could accomplish it, said to him: 'Calm your bosom, hapless shepherd, for he who comes hither, brings a bosom ready for all you might ask of it; desire to learn your fortune has made him break in upon your tears, and disturb the solace which might attend upon you in solitude.'

With these gentle and courteous words of Elicio the shepherd was calmed, and with no less gentleness replied to him, saying: 'I gratefully acknowledge your kind offer, whoever you be, courteous shepherd; but, as for fortune, if you desire to learn mine who never had any, you will scarce be able to have your wish.' 'You speak true,' answered Elicio, 'since from the words and plaints I this night have heard from you, you clearly show the little or none that you have. But you will no less satisfy my desire by telling me your troubles than by making known to me your joys. May fortune give you these in what you desire, so that you do not deny me what I beg of you, if indeed your not knowing me do not prevent it; although I would have you know, so as to reassure and move you, that I have not a soul so happy as not to feel as much as it should the miseries you would recount to me. This I tell you, for I know that nothing is more wasted, nay thrown away, than for an unhappy man to recount his woes to one whose heart is brimful with joys.' 'Your kindly words,' answered the shepherd, 'compel me to satisfy you in what you ask me, not only that you may not fancy that from a mean and craven soul spring the complaints and lamentations you say you have heard from me, but also that you may realise that the feeling I show is but small as compared with the cause I have for showing it.'

Elicio thanked him heartily, and after some more courteous words had passed between the two, Elicio giving proof that he was a true friend of the woodland shepherd, the latter, recognising that they were not feigned promises, granted in the end what Elicio asked. The twain sate them down on the green grass, covered with the splendour of the fair Diana, who could that night rival her brother in brightness, and the woodland shepherd, with tokens of a tender grief, began to speak in this wise:

'On the banks of the Betis, a stream exceeding rich in waters, which enriches great Vandalia, was born Lisandro (for that is my luckless name), and of parents so noble that I would to Almighty God I had been begotten in a lowlier station; for ofttimes nobility of lineage lends wings and strength to the soul to raise the eyes to where a humble lot would never dare to raise them, and from such boldness calamities are often wont to spring such as you shall hear from me, if with attention you will listen to me. In my village was also born a shepherdess, whose name was Leonida, the sum of all the beauty which, as I fancy, could be found in a great part of the world,—born of parents no less noble and wealthy than her beauty and virtue deserved. Whence it came to pass that, the parents of both being among the chief people of the place, and the rule and government of the village being vested in them, envy, the deadly enemy of a peaceful life, brought about strife and mortal discord between them over some differences concerning the administration of the village, in such a manner that the village was divided into two factions; the one followed that of my parents, the other that of Leonida's, with so deep-rooted a hatred and malice that no human effort has been able to bring about peace between them. Fate then decreed, as though to shut out every prospect of friendship, that I should fall in love with the fair Leonida, daughter of Parmindro, the head of the opposite faction; and my love was, indeed, so great that, though I strove in countless ways to put it from my heart, they all ended in my remaining yet more vanquished and enslaved. Before me rose a mountain of difficulties, which hindered me from gaining the end of my desire, such as Leonida's great worth, the inveterate enmity of our parents, the few or no occasions which presented themselves to me for disclosing my thoughts to her: and yet, whenever I turned the eyes of fancy towards the rare beauty of Leonida, every difficulty was made smooth, so that it seemed to me a little thing to break through sharp points of adamant, that I might reach the goal of my loving and honourable thoughts. Having then for many days battled with myself, to see if I could turn my soul from a design so arduous, and seeing that it was impossible, I set all my skill on considering how I might give Leonida to understand the secret love in my breast. And even as, in any matter, the beginnings are always difficult, so in those that relate to love they are for the most exceedingly difficult, until Love himself, when he wishes to show himself favourable, opens the gates of the remedy, where they seem most closely barred. Thus it appeared in my case, for my thought being guided by his, I came to fancy that no better means presented themselves to my desire than to make friends with the parents of Silvia, a shepherdess who was a bosom friend of Leonida, and often they visited each other at their houses, in company with their parents. Silvia had a kinsman called Carino, a very close companion of Crisalvo, fair Leonida's brother, whose boldness and harshness of manner had gained him the nickname of cruel, and so, by all those who knew him, he was generally called cruel Crisalvo; and in the same way they called Carino, Silvia's kinsman and Crisalvo's companion, the cunning Carino, from his being officious and sharp-witted. With him and with Silvia (for it seemed to serve my purpose) by means of many presents and gifts I forged a friendship, to outward seeming: at least on Silvia's side it was stronger than I desired, for the presents and favours, which with pure heart she bestowed on me, constrained by my unceasing services, were by my fortune taken as instruments to place me in the misery where now I see myself. Silvia was passing fair, and adorned with graces so many that the hardness of Crisalvo's savage heart was moved to love her (but this I did not learn save to my hurt); and many days later, after that from long experience I was sure of Silvia's good-will, an opportunity offering itself one day, in the tenderest words I could, I disclosed to her the wound in my stricken breast, telling her that, though it was so deep and dangerous, I did not feel it so much, only because I thought that in her solicitude lay its cure. I informed her, too, of the honourable goal to which my thoughts were tending, which was to unite myself in lawful wedlock with the beauteous Leonida; and that, since it was a cause so just and good, she must not disdain to take it under her care. Finally, not to weary you, love furnished me with such words to say to her, that she, being overcome by them and more by the pain which she, like a clever woman, recognised from the signs of my face as dwelling in my soul, determined to take charge of my cure, and to tell Leonida what I felt for her, promising to do for me all that her power and skill might achieve, even though such an undertaking was fraught with difficulties for her, by reason of the great enmity she knew to exist between our parents; though, on the other hand she thought that it might put an end to their differences, if Leonida were to marry me. Moved then by this good intention, and softened by the tears I shed, as I have said before, she dared to intercede on behalf of my happiness, and, discussing with herself how she would approach Leonida, she made me write her a letter, which she offered to give her at the moment she thought fitting. Her counsel seemed to be for my good, and that same day I sent her a letter, which I have always known by heart, as having been the beginning of the happiness I felt at the reply to it, though it would be better not to remember happy things at a time so sad as that in which I now find myself. Silvia received the letter, and awaited the opportunity for placing it in Leonida's hands.'

'Nay,' said Elicio, interrupting Lisandro's discourse, 'it is not right that you should fail to repeat to me the letter you sent to Leonida, for, seeing that it was the first, and that you were so deeply in love at that time, it must undoubtedly be eloquent. And since you have told me that you know it by heart, and of the pleasure you obtained from it, do not now withhold it from me by not repeating it.'

'You say well, my friend,' replied Lisandro, 'for I was then as deeply in love and timid as now I am unhappy and despairing; and, on that account, it seems to me that I did not succeed in uttering any eloquent words, though it was sufficient success that Leonida should believe those which were in the letter. Since you wish so much to hear them, it ran as follows: