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Home -> Miguel de Cervantes -> Don Quixote -> Chapter 63

Don Quixote - Chapter 63

1. The Author's Preface

2. Dedication of Volume I

3. Chapter 1

4. Chapter 2

5. Chapter 3

6. Chapter 4

7. Chapter 5

8. Chapter 6

9. Chapter 7

10. Chapter 8

11. Chapter 9

12. Chapter 10

13. Chapter 11

14. Chapter 12

15. Chapter 13

16. Chapter 14

17. Chapter 15

18. Chapter 16

19. Chapter 17

20. Chapter 18

21. Chapter 19

22. Chapter 20

23. Chapter 21

24. Chapter 22

25. Chapter 23

26. Chapter 24

27. Chapter 25

28. Chapter 26

29. Chapter 27

30. Chapter 28

31. Chapter 29

32. Chapter 30

33. Chapter 31

34. Chapter 32

35. Chapter 33

36. Chapter 34

37. Chapter 35

38. Chapter 36

39. Chapter 37

40. Chapter 38

41. Chapter 39

42. Chapter 40

43. Chapter 41

44. Chapter 42

45. Chapter 43

46. Chapter 44

47. Chapter 45

48. Chapter 46

49. Chapter 47

50. Chapter 48

51. Chapter 49

52. Chapter 50

53. Chapter 51

54. Chapter 52

55. Dedication of Volume II

56. The Author's Preface

57. Chapter 1

58. Chapter 2

59. Chapter 3

60. Chapter 4

61. Chapter 5

62. Chapter 6

63. Chapter 7

64. Chapter 8

65. Chapter 9

66. Chapter 10

67. Chapter 11

68. Chapter 12

69. Chapter 13

70. Chapter 14

71. Chapter 15

72. Chapter 16

73. Chapter 17

74. Chapter 18

75. Chapter 19

76. Chapter 20

77. Chapter 21

78. Chapter 22

79. Chapter 23

80. Chapter 24

81. Chapter 25

82. Chapter 26

83. Chapter 27

84. Chapter 28

85. Chapter 29

86. Chapter 30

87. Chapter 31

88. Chapter 32

89. Chapter 33

90. Chapter 34

91. Chapter 35

92. Chapter 36

93. Chapter 37

94. Chapter 38

95. Chapter 39

96. Chapter 40

97. Chapter 41

98. Chapter 42

99. Chapter 43

100. Chapter 44

101. Chapter 45

102. Chapter 46

103. Chapter 47

104. Chapter 48

105. Chapter 49

106. Chapter 50

107. Chapter 51

108. Chapter 52

109. Chapter 53

110. Chapter 54

111. Chapter 55

112. Chapter 56

113. Chapter 57

114. Chapter 58

115. Chapter 59

116. Chapter 60

117. Chapter 61

118. Chapter 62

119. Chapter 63

120. Chapter 64

121. Chapter 65

122. Chapter 66

123. Chapter 67

124. Chapter 68

125. Chapter 69

126. Chapter 70

127. Chapter 71

128. Chapter 72

129. Chapter 73

130. Chapter 74







CHAPTER LXIII.

OF THE MISHAP THAT BEFELL SANCHO PANZA THROUGH THE VISIT TO THE GALLEYS,
AND THE STRANGE ADVENTURE OF THE FAIR MORISCO


Profound were Don Quixote's reflections on the reply of the enchanted
head, not one of them, however, hitting on the secret of the trick, but
all concentrated on the promise, which he regarded as a certainty, of
Dulcinea's disenchantment. This he turned over in his mind again and
again with great satisfaction, fully persuaded that he would shortly see
its fulfillment; and as for Sancho, though, as has been said, he hated
being a governor, still he had a longing to be giving orders and finding
himself obeyed once more; this is the misfortune that being in authority,
even in jest, brings with it.

To resume; that afternoon their host Don Antonio Moreno and his two
friends, with Don Quixote and Sancho, went to the galleys. The commandant
had been already made aware of his good fortune in seeing two such famous
persons as Don Quixote and Sancho, and the instant they came to the shore
all the galleys struck their awnings and the clarions rang out. A skiff
covered with rich carpets and cushions of crimson velvet was immediately
lowered into the water, and as Don Quixote stepped on board of it, the
leading galley fired her gangway gun, and the other galleys did the same;
and as he mounted the starboard ladder the whole crew saluted him (as is
the custom when a personage of distinction comes on board a galley) by
exclaiming "Hu, hu, hu," three times. The general, for so we shall call
him, a Valencian gentleman of rank, gave him his hand and embraced him,
saying, "I shall mark this day with a white stone as one of the happiest
I can expect to enjoy in my lifetime, since I have seen Senor Don Quixote
of La Mancha, pattern and image wherein we see contained and condensed
all that is worthy in knight-errantry."

Don Quixote delighted beyond measure with such a lordly reception,
replied to him in words no less courteous. All then proceeded to the
poop, which was very handsomely decorated, and seated themselves on the
bulwark benches; the boatswain passed along the gangway and piped all
hands to strip, which they did in an instant. Sancho, seeing such a
number of men stripped to the skin, was taken aback, and still more when
he saw them spread the awning so briskly that it seemed to him as if all
the devils were at work at it; but all this was cakes and fancy bread to
what I am going to tell now. Sancho was seated on the captain's stage,
close to the aftermost rower on the right-hand side. He, previously
instructed in what he was to do, laid hold of Sancho, hoisting him up in
his arms, and the whole crew, who were standing ready, beginning on the
right, proceeded to pass him on, whirling him along from hand to hand and
from bench to bench with such rapidity that it took the sight out of poor
Sancho's eyes, and he made quite sure that the devils themselves were
flying away with him; nor did they leave off with him until they had sent
him back along the left side and deposited him on the poop; and the poor
fellow was left bruised and breathless and all in a sweat, and unable to
comprehend what it was that had happened to him.

Don Quixote when he saw Sancho's flight without wings asked the general
if this was a usual ceremony with those who came on board the galleys for
the first time; for, if so, as he had no intention of adopting them as a
profession, he had no mind to perform such feats of agility, and if
anyone offered to lay hold of him to whirl him about, he vowed to God he
would kick his soul out; and as he said this he stood up and clapped his
hand upon his sword. At this instant they struck the awning and lowered
the yard with a prodigious rattle. Sancho thought heaven was coming off
its hinges and going to fall on his head, and full of terror he ducked it
and buried it between his knees; nor were Don Quixote's knees altogether
under control, for he too shook a little, squeezed his shoulders together
and lost colour. The crew then hoisted the yard with the same rapidity
and clatter as when they lowered it, all the while keeping silence as
though they had neither voice nor breath. The boatswain gave the signal
to weigh anchor, and leaping upon the middle of the gangway began to lay
on to the shoulders of the crew with his courbash or whip, and to haul
out gradually to sea.

When Sancho saw so many red feet (for such he took the oars to be) moving
all together, he said to himself, "It's these that are the real chanted
things, and not the ones my master talks of. What can those wretches have
done to be so whipped; and how does that one man who goes along there
whistling dare to whip so many? I declare this is hell, or at least
purgatory!"

Don Quixote, observing how attentively Sancho regarded what was going on,
said to him, "Ah, Sancho my friend, how quickly and cheaply might you
finish off the disenchantment of Dulcinea, if you would strip to the
waist and take your place among those gentlemen! Amid the pain and
sufferings of so many you would not feel your own much; and moreover
perhaps the sage Merlin would allow each of these lashes, being laid on
with a good hand, to count for ten of those which you must give yourself
at last."

The general was about to ask what these lashes were, and what was
Dulcinea's disenchantment, when a sailor exclaimed, "Monjui signals that
there is an oared vessel off the coast to the west."

On hearing this the general sprang upon the gangway crying, "Now then, my
sons, don't let her give us the slip! It must be some Algerine corsair
brigantine that the watchtower signals to us." The three others
immediately came alongside the chief galley to receive their orders. The
general ordered two to put out to sea while he with the other kept in
shore, so that in this way the vessel could not escape them. The crews
plied the oars driving the galleys so furiously that they seemed to fly.
The two that had put out to sea, after a couple of miles sighted a vessel
which, so far as they could make out, they judged to be one of fourteen
or fifteen banks, and so she proved. As soon as the vessel discovered the
galleys she went about with the object and in the hope of making her
escape by her speed; but the attempt failed, for the chief galley was one
of the fastest vessels afloat, and overhauled her so rapidly that they on
board the brigantine saw clearly there was no possibility of escaping,
and the rais therefore would have had them drop their oars and give
themselves up so as not to provoke the captain in command of our galleys
to anger. But chance, directing things otherwise, so ordered it that just
as the chief galley came close enough for those on board the vessel to
hear the shouts from her calling on them to surrender, two Toraquis, that
is to say two Turks, both drunken, that with a dozen more were on board
the brigantine, discharged their muskets, killing two of the soldiers
that lined the sides of our vessel. Seeing this the general swore he
would not leave one of those he found on board the vessel alive, but as
he bore down furiously upon her she slipped away from him underneath the
oars. The galley shot a good way ahead; those on board the vessel saw
their case was desperate, and while the galley was coming about they made
sail, and by sailing and rowing once more tried to sheer off; but their
activity did not do them as much good as their rashness did them harm,
for the galley coming up with them in a little more than half a mile
threw her oars over them and took the whole of them alive. The other two
galleys now joined company and all four returned with the prize to the
beach, where a vast multitude stood waiting for them, eager to see what
they brought back. The general anchored close in, and perceived that the
viceroy of the city was on the shore. He ordered the skiff to push off to
fetch him, and the yard to be lowered for the purpose of hanging
forthwith the rais and the rest of the men taken on board the vessel,
about six-and-thirty in number, all smart fellows and most of them
Turkish musketeers. He asked which was the rais of the brigantine, and
was answered in Spanish by one of the prisoners (who afterwards proved to
be a Spanish renegade), "This young man, senor that you see here is our
rais," and he pointed to one of the handsomest and most gallant-looking
youths that could be imagined. He did not seem to be twenty years of age.

"Tell me, dog," said the general, "what led thee to kill my soldiers,
when thou sawest it was impossible for thee to escape? Is that the way to
behave to chief galleys? Knowest thou not that rashness is not valour?
Faint prospects of success should make men bold, but not rash."

The rais was about to reply, but the general could not at that moment
listen to him, as he had to hasten to receive the viceroy, who was now
coming on board the galley, and with him certain of his attendants and
some of the people.

"You have had a good chase, senor general," said the viceroy.

"Your excellency shall soon see how good, by the game strung up to this
yard," replied the general.

"How so?" returned the viceroy.

"Because," said the general, "against all law, reason, and usages of war
they have killed on my hands two of the best soldiers on board these
galleys, and I have sworn to hang every man that I have taken, but above
all this youth who is the rais of the brigantine," and he pointed to him
as he stood with his hands already bound and the rope round his neck,
ready for death.

The viceroy looked at him, and seeing him so well-favoured, so graceful,
and so submissive, he felt a desire to spare his life, the comeliness of
the youth furnishing him at once with a letter of recommendation. He
therefore questioned him, saying, "Tell me, rais, art thou Turk, Moor, or
renegade?"

To which the youth replied, also in Spanish, "I am neither Turk, nor
Moor, nor renegade."

"What art thou, then?" said the viceroy.

"A Christian woman," replied the youth.

"A woman and a Christian, in such a dress and in such circumstances! It
is more marvellous than credible," said the viceroy.

"Suspend the execution of the sentence," said the youth; "your vengeance
will not lose much by waiting while I tell you the story of my life."

What heart could be so hard as not to be softened by these words, at any
rate so far as to listen to what the unhappy youth had to say? The
general bade him say what he pleased, but not to expect pardon for his
flagrant offence. With this permission the youth began in these words.

"Born of Morisco parents, I am of that nation, more unhappy than wise,
upon which of late a sea of woes has poured down. In the course of our
misfortune I was carried to Barbary by two uncles of mine, for it was in
vain that I declared I was a Christian, as in fact I am, and not a mere
pretended one, or outwardly, but a true Catholic Christian. It availed me
nothing with those charged with our sad expatriation to protest this, nor
would my uncles believe it; on the contrary, they treated it as an
untruth and a subterfuge set up to enable me to remain behind in the land
of my birth; and so, more by force than of my own will, they took me with
them. I had a Christian mother, and a father who was a man of sound sense
and a Christian too; I imbibed the Catholic faith with my mother's milk,
I was well brought up, and neither in word nor in deed did I, I think,
show any sign of being a Morisco. To accompany these virtues, for such I
hold them, my beauty, if I possess any, grew with my growth; and great as
was the seclusion in which I lived it was not so great but that a young
gentleman, Don Gaspar Gregorio by name, eldest son of a gentleman who is
lord of a village near ours, contrived to find opportunities of seeing
me. How he saw me, how we met, how his heart was lost to me, and mine not
kept from him, would take too long to tell, especially at a moment when I
am in dread of the cruel cord that threatens me interposing between
tongue and throat; I will only say, therefore, that Don Gregorio chose to
accompany me in our banishment. He joined company with the Moriscoes who
were going forth from other villages, for he knew their language very
well, and on the voyage he struck up a friendship with my two uncles who
were carrying me with them; for my father, like a wise and far-sighted
man, as soon as he heard the first edict for our expulsion, quitted the
village and departed in quest of some refuge for us abroad. He left
hidden and buried, at a spot of which I alone have knowledge, a large
quantity of pearls and precious stones of great value, together with a
sum of money in gold cruzadoes and doubloons. He charged me on no account
to touch the treasure, if by any chance they expelled us before his
return. I obeyed him, and with my uncles, as I have said, and others of
our kindred and neighbours, passed over to Barbary, and the place where
we took up our abode was Algiers, much the same as if we had taken it up
in hell itself. The king heard of my beauty, and report told him of my
wealth, which was in some degree fortunate for me. He summoned me before
him, and asked me what part of Spain I came from, and what money and
jewels I had. I mentioned the place, and told him the jewels and money
were buried there; but that they might easily be recovered if I myself
went back for them. All this I told him, in dread lest my beauty and not
his own covetousness should influence him. While he was engaged in
conversation with me, they brought him word that in company with me was
one of the handsomest and most graceful youths that could be imagined. I
knew at once that they were speaking of Don Gaspar Gregorio, whose
comeliness surpasses the most highly vaunted beauty. I was troubled when
I thought of the danger he was in, for among those barbarous Turks a fair
youth is more esteemed than a woman, be she ever so beautiful. The king
immediately ordered him to be brought before him that he might see him,
and asked me if what they said about the youth was true. I then, almost
as if inspired by heaven, told him it was, but that I would have him to
know it was not a man, but a woman like myself, and I entreated him to
allow me to go and dress her in the attire proper to her, so that her
beauty might be seen to perfection, and that she might present herself
before him with less embarrassment. He bade me go by all means, and said
that the next day we should discuss the plan to be adopted for my return
to Spain to carry away the hidden treasure. I saw Don Gaspar, I told him
the danger he was in if he let it be seen he was a man, I dressed him as
a Moorish woman, and that same afternoon I brought him before the king,
who was charmed when he saw him, and resolved to keep the damsel and make
a present of her to the Grand Signor; and to avoid the risk she might run
among the women of his seraglio, and distrustful of himself, he commanded
her to be placed in the house of some Moorish ladies of rank who would
protect and attend to her; and thither he was taken at once. What we both
suffered (for I cannot deny that I love him) may be left to the
imagination of those who are separated if they love one another dearly.
The king then arranged that I should return to Spain in this brigantine,
and that two Turks, those who killed your soldiers, should accompany me.
There also came with me this Spanish renegade"--and here she pointed to
him who had first spoken--"whom I know to be secretly a Christian, and to
be more desirous of being left in Spain than of returning to Barbary. The
rest of the crew of the brigantine are Moors and Turks, who merely serve
as rowers. The two Turks, greedy and insolent, instead of obeying the
orders we had to land me and this renegade in Christian dress (with which
we came provided) on the first Spanish ground we came to, chose to run
along the coast and make some prize if they could, fearing that if they
put us ashore first, we might, in case of some accident befalling us,
make it known that the brigantine was at sea, and thus, if there happened
to be any galleys on the coast, they might be taken. We sighted this
shore last night, and knowing nothing of these galleys, we were
discovered, and the result was what you have seen. To sum up, there is
Don Gregorio in woman's dress, among women, in imminent danger of his
life; and here am I, with hands bound, in expectation, or rather in
dread, of losing my life, of which I am already weary. Here, sirs, ends
my sad story, as true as it is unhappy; all I ask of you is to allow me
to die like a Christian, for, as I have already said, I am not to be
charged with the offence of which those of my nation are guilty;" and she
stood silent, her eyes filled with moving tears, accompanied by plenty
from the bystanders. The viceroy, touched with compassion, went up to her
without speaking and untied the cord that bound the hands of the Moorish
girl.

But all the while the Morisco Christian was telling her strange story, an
elderly pilgrim, who had come on board of the galley at the same time as
the viceroy, kept his eyes fixed upon her; and the instant she ceased
speaking he threw himself at her feet, and embracing them said in a voice
broken by sobs and sighs, "O Ana Felix, my unhappy daughter, I am thy
father Ricote, come back to look for thee, unable to live without thee,
my soul that thou art!"

At these words of his, Sancho opened his eyes and raised his head, which
he had been holding down, brooding over his unlucky excursion; and
looking at the pilgrim he recognised in him that same Ricote he met the
day he quitted his government, and felt satisfied that this was his
daughter. She being now unbound embraced her father, mingling her tears
with his, while he addressing the general and the viceroy said, "This,
sirs, is my daughter, more unhappy in her adventures than in her name.
She is Ana Felix, surnamed Ricote, celebrated as much for her own beauty
as for my wealth. I quitted my native land in search of some shelter or
refuge for us abroad, and having found one in Germany I returned in this
pilgrim's dress, in the company of some other German pilgrims, to seek my
daughter and take up a large quantity of treasure I had left buried. My
daughter I did not find, the treasure I found and have with me; and now,
in this strange roundabout way you have seen, I find the treasure that
more than all makes me rich, my beloved daughter. If our innocence and
her tears and mine can with strict justice open the door to clemency,
extend it to us, for we never had any intention of injuring you, nor do
we sympathise with the aims of our people, who have been justly
banished."

"I know Ricote well," said Sancho at this, "and I know too that what he
says about Ana Felix being his daughter is true; but as to those other
particulars about going and coming, and having good or bad intentions, I
say nothing."

While all present stood amazed at this strange occurrence the general
said, "At any rate your tears will not allow me to keep my oath; live,
fair Ana Felix, all the years that heaven has allotted you; but these
rash insolent fellows must pay the penalty of the crime they have
committed;" and with that he gave orders to have the two Turks who had
killed his two soldiers hanged at once at the yard-arm. The viceroy,
however, begged him earnestly not to hang them, as their behaviour
savoured rather of madness than of bravado. The general yielded to the
viceroy's request, for revenge is not easily taken in cold blood. They
then tried to devise some scheme for rescuing Don Gaspar Gregorio from
the danger in which he had been left. Ricote offered for that object more
than two thousand ducats that he had in pearls and gems; they proposed
several plans, but none so good as that suggested by the renegade already
mentioned, who offered to return to Algiers in a small vessel of about
six banks, manned by Christian rowers, as he knew where, how, and when he
could and should land, nor was he ignorant of the house in which Don
Gaspar was staying. The general and the viceroy had some hesitation about
placing confidence in the renegade and entrusting him with the Christians
who were to row, but Ana Felix said she could answer for him, and her
father offered to go and pay the ransom of the Christians if by any
chance they should not be forthcoming. This, then, being agreed upon, the
viceroy landed, and Don Antonio Moreno took the fair Morisco and her
father home with him, the viceroy charging him to give them the best
reception and welcome in his power, while on his own part he offered all
that house contained for their entertainment; so great was the good-will
and kindliness the beauty of Ana Felix had infused into his heart.




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