Chap. XI Of the Misfortune Which Befel Sancho Panza on Board of the Gallies, and the Rare Adventure of the Beautiful Moor
Manifold and profound were the self-deliberations of Don Quixote on the response of the inchanted head, without his being able to discover the deceit; and the result of all his reflections was the promise of Dulcinea’s being disinchanted, on which he reposed himself with the most implicit confidence. This was the goal of all his thoughts, and he rejoiced, in full assurance of seeing it suddenly accomplished. As for Sancho, although he abhorred the office of a governor, as we have already observed, he could not help wishing for another opportunity of issuing out orders and seeing them obeyed; a misfortune which never fails to attend the exertion of power, even though founded on mock authority.
In a word, that very evening his landlord Don Antonio Moreno, and his two friends, went on board of the gallies with Don Quixote and Sancho; and the commodore being apprized of the visit intended by two such famous personages, no sooner perceived them coming towards the sea-side, than he ordered the awnings to be struck and the musick to play; the barge was hoisted out, covered with rich carpets, and furnished with velvet cushions, and the minute Don Quixote embarked, the cannon a-midships of the captain-galley was discharged, and the others followed her example. When the knight ascended the accommodation-ladder, on the starboard side, the whole crew saluted him with three cheers, a compliment usually paid to persons of the first quality; and the general, for by this name we shall henceforth call him, who was a noble Valentian, presented his hand, and embracing Don Quixote, ‘This day,’ said he, ‘will I mark with a white stone, as one of the happiest I shall ever enjoy, on account of seeing the renowned Signior Don Quixote de La Mancha, in whom the whole worth of knight-errantry is cyphered and concentered.’ No less courteous and polite was the reply of Don Quixote, who rejoiced above measure at seeing himself treated with such respect. The whole company having ascended the poop, which was very gaily ornamented, and seated themselves upon benches, the boatswain repaired to the gangway, and making a signal with his whistle for all the slaves to strip, was obeyed in an instant, to the no small discomposure of Sancho, who was terrified at the sight of so many naked backs; nor did his apprehension abate, when he saw the awning stretched with such incredible dispatch, that he thought all the devils in hell had assisted in the operation. Yet this was nothing but cakes and gingerbread to what I am going to relate.
The squire sat upon the stentril, close by the aftermost rower on the starboard side; who, in consequence of the previous instructions he had received, lifted up Sancho in his arms, and while the whole crew of slaves stood up, alert with the prospect of the joke, tossed him like a tennis-ball to his fellow, who in the same manner committed him to a third; and thus he was bandied forwards on the starboard side, from slave to slave, and bench to bench, with such expedition, that poor Panza lost his eyesight entirely, and firmly believed himself in the possession of the fiends: nor did they desist from this exercise, until he was reconveyed by the larboard-side to the poop, where this miserable object lay bruised, breathless, and covered with a cold sweat, and in such perturbation of spirits that he scarce knew what he had undergone.
Don Quixote seeing Sancho flying in that manner without wings, asked the general, if it was a ceremony practised upon every person at his first going on board; for, in that case, as he himself did not intend to make profession of a seafaring life, he had no ambition to perform such an exercise; and he vowed to God, if any man should attempt to seize him, as a fit subject for flying, he would spurn his soul out of his body; in confirmation of which resolve, he started up, and laying his hand upon his sword, put himself in a posture of defence.
At that instant the awning was furled, and the main-yard lowered with such a terrible noise, that Sancho imagined the heavens were tore from off their hinges and tumbling down upon his head, which he forthwith shrunk between his legs in an agony of terror: nor was all serene in the breast of Don Quixote; who, while his legs trembled under him, shrugged up his shoulders, and changed colour. The crew having hoisted the main-yard, with the same expedition and noise which were made in its descent; while they themselves continued as silent as if they had been altogether without breath or utterance, the boatswain piped all hands to weigh anchor, and leaping into the middle of the gangway, began to ply their shoulders with his supple-jack, or bull’s-pizzle, and the galley by little and little stood out to sea.
Sancho beholding such a huge body, moved by so many painted feet, for such he took the oars to be, said within himself, ‘This, indeed, is really inchantment; but what my master takes for it is no such matter. What have these miserable wretches done to be scourged in this manner? and I wonder how the devil that single man, who skips up and down, piping and whistling, dares whip and flog so many people; now, on my conscience, I believe this is hell itself, or purgatory at least!’
Don Quixote perceiving with what attention the squire observed every circumstance, ‘Friend Sancho,’ said he, ‘with what facility and dispatch might you now, if you please, strip yourself from the middle upwards, and taking your place among these gentlemen, finish at once the disenchantment of Dulcinea; for, amidst the distress of so much good company, you would hardly be sensible of bodily pain: and who knows, but the sage Merlin would reckon each of these stripes, which are bestowed with goodwill, equivalent to ten of these, which, at the long run, you must receive from your own hand.’ The general had just opened his mouth to enquire about the nature of this flagellation, and Dulcinea’s disenchantment, when a mariner came and told him, that the fort of Munjuy had made signal of a rowing bark upon the coast, to the westward. He no sooner received this intelligence, than advancing into a gang-way, ‘Pull away, my lads!’ cried he, ‘let not this corsair brigantine escape; for certainly she must be a vessel belonging to Algiers which the castle has discovered.’
The other three gallies ranging alongside of the admiral to receive orders, the general directed that two of them should stand out to sea, and the other keep along shore, so that the Algerine should not escape. The slaves immediately began to ply their oars, which impelled the gallies with such velocity, that they seemed to fly; while the two that put to sea, at the distance of two miles, discovered a bark, which, from the view, they judged to have fourteen or fifteen banks, and their conjecture was right. This vessel no sooner descried the gallies, than she made the best of her way, in hope of being able to escape by her nimbleness; but she was baffled in this expedition; for the admiral being one of the swiftest gallies that ever sailed, came up with her apace, and the captain of the brigantine perceiving plainly that he could not escape, desired the rowers to quit their oars and strike, that he might not by his obstinacy incense the officer who commanded the gallies: but fate, which conducted their affairs in another manner, ordained, that even after the admiral was within hearing, and ordered them to strike, two Toraquis, that is, a couple of drunken Turks, belonging to the brigantine, discharged two firelocks, which killed as many soldiers who chanced to be in the head of the galley; an incident which was no sooner perceived by the general, than he swore he would not leave one person alive in the brigantine, which he ordered his people to board with all expedition; nevertheless, she, for the present, escaped under the oars, and the galley had such way, that she shot a-head to a good distance, so that the people on board the chace, seeing themselves in danger of being destroyed, hoisted their sails and put before the wind, while the galley tacked and pursued with all her force of canvas and of oars. The diligence and dexterity of the Algerines did not turn out so much to their advantage, as their presumption conduced to their prejudice; for, the admiral running along-side, grappled with the brigantine, and took the whole crew prisoners. The other two gallies came up, and all returned with the prize to the road, while a great concourse of people stood on the beach, to see the contents of the ship they had taken. The general anchored close by the shore, and understanding the viceroy of the city was among the spectators, he ordered the barge to be hoisted out to fetch him on board, and commanded the yard to be lowered for the convenience of hanging the master of the brigantine, and the other Turks he had taken, to the number of thirty-six, all stout young fellows, and mostly Turkish musqueteers. When he asked who commanded the brigantine, one of the prisoners, who was afterwards known to be a Spanish renegado, answered in Castilian, ‘That there young man is our master;’ pointing to one of the most beautiful and genteel youths that human imagination can conceive, whose age to all appearance was under twenty. ‘Ill-advised dog,’ said the general, ‘what induced thee to kill my soldiers, when thou sawest it was impossible to escape? Is that the respect which is due to admiral-gallies? Dost thou not know, that rashness is not valour, and that doubtful hopes ought to make men resolute, but not desperate?’
The Moor was about to reply, but the general could not at that time hear his answer, because he was obliged to go and receive the viceroy, who had just entered the galley, with some of his own servants, and a few other persons. ‘General,’ said this nobleman, ‘you have had a fine chace.’—‘Aye, so fine,’ replied the other, ‘that your excellency shall see it presently hoisted up at the yard-arm.’—‘For what reason?’ said the viceroy. ‘I mean, the master of the brigantine and his crew,’ answered the commodore, ‘who have, against all law, reason, and custom of war, killed two of the best soldiers that ever served on board; so that I have sworn to hang all the prisoners, especially this youth who was their captain,’ pointing to the handsome Moor; who, by this time, waited for execution, with his hands tied, and a rope about his neck.
The viceroy, surveying this unhappy prisoner, (whose beauty, genteel mien, and humility, served him instead of a recommendation) was seized with the desire of saving his life, and approaching him, ‘Tell me, corsair,’ said he, ‘art thou a Turk, Moor, or Renegado?’ To this question the youth answered, in the Castilian tongue, ‘I am neither Turk, Moor, or Renegado.’—‘Then, what art thou?’ resumed the viceroy. ‘A Christian woman,’ replied the captive. ‘A Christian woman,’ cried the viceroy, ‘in such dress and situation! this is a circumstance more worthy of admiration than of credit.’—‘Gentlemen,’ said the youth, ‘be so good as to suspend my execution, until I shall have recounted the particulars of my story; and that small delay will not much retard the accomplishment of your revenge.’ What heart could be so obdurate as not to relent at this address; so far at least, as to hear the story of the afflicted youth? The general, accordingly, told him he might proceed with his relation, but by no means expect pardon for the crime of which he was convicted. With this permission he began in these terms.
‘I was born of that nation, more unfortunate than wise, which hath been lately overwhelmed by a sea of trouble: in other words, my parents were Moors; and, in the torrent of their misfortune, I was carried by two uncles into Barbary, notwithstanding my professing myself a Christian; not one of those impostors, who are so only in appearance, but a true and faithful Roman catholick. This declaration did not avail me with those who had the charge of our miserable expulsion; nor was it believed by my uncles, who, on the contrary, supposing it no more than a lye, and expedient, by which I thought to obtain permission to remain in my native country, hurried me along with them in a forcible manner. My mother was a Christian, and my father a prudent man of the same religion: I sucked in the catholick faith when an infant at the breast, and was trained up in the ways of virtue; nor do I think I have ever given the least marks of Mahometanism, either in word or deed. In equal pace with my virtue, (for I really think my life was virtuous) my beauty, such as it is, hath ever walked; and notwithstanding the extraordinary reserve in which I lived, concealed from publick view, it was my fate to be seen by a young cavalier, called Don Gregorio, eldest son of a gentleman who had an estate in our neighbourhood. How he became desperately enamoured of me, and how I grew fond of him to distraction, it would be tedious to relate, considering my present situation, standing as I am, with the fatal cord between my tongue and throat: I shall therefore only observe, that Don Gregorio resolved to accompany me in my exile, and actually mingled with those Moors who joined us in different places, without being discovered; for he spoke the language perfectly well. Nay, in the course of our voyage, he insinuated himself into the friendship of my two uncles, with whom I travelled; for my father, who was a man of prudence and foresight, no sooner heard the first mandate for our expulsion, than he went abroad to foreign kingdoms in quest of an asylum for his family, leaving a large quantity of pearls, valuable jewels, with some money, in crusadoes and doubloons of gold, concealed and interred in a certain place, to which I alone was privy; and laying strong injunctions upon me to avoid touching this treasure, in case we should be exiled before his return. I obeyed his commands in this particular, and as I have already observed, set sail with my uncles, relations, and friends, for Barbary; and the place in which we settled was Algiers, whereas we might as well have taken up our habitation in hell itself. The king hearing of my beauty, and the report of my wealth, which was partly fortunate for my designs, ordered me to be brought before him, and asked from what part of Spain I had come, and what money and jewels I had brought to Barbary. I told him the place of my nativity, and gave him to understand that the money and jewels were buried under-ground: but that I should easily recover the whole hoard, provided I could return alone for that purpose. This information I gave, that he might be more blinded by his own avarice than my beauty: but, during the conversation, a person told him that I was accompanied in my voyage by one of the most beautiful and genteel youths that ever was seen. I immediately understood that this was no other than Don Gasper Gregorio, whose beauty far exceeds the fairest that ever was extolled; and was exceedingly afflicted at the prospect of danger to which the dear youth might be exposed; for, among those barbarous Turks, a boy or handsome youth is more prized and esteemed than any woman, let her be never so beautiful.
‘The king forthwith ordered his people to bring Don Gregorio into his presence, and in the mean time asked me if his person actually corresponded with this report. Then I, as if inspired by Heaven, answered in the affirmative; though at the same time I assured him, it was no youth, but a woman like myself; and begged leave to go and dress her in her natural attire, which would shew her beauty to the best advantage, and enable her to appear in his presence with less confusion. He said I might go, in good time, and that some other day he would concert measures for my return into Spain, to bring off the hidden treasure. Thus dismissed, I went and explained to Don Gaspar the risque he would run in appearing as a man, and dressing him in the habit of a Moorish woman, accompanied him that same evening to the presence of the king, who was seized with admiration at sight of her beauty, and resolved to keep her for a present to the Grand Signior. In order to avoid the danger to which this young creature might be exposed in his seraglio, from his own inordinate desires, he ordered her to be lodged, quartered, and attended, in the house of some Moorish ladies, whither she was immediately conveyed; and what we both felt at parting, for I cannot deny that I love him tenderly, I leave to the confederation of lovers who have experienced such a cruel separation.
‘The king afterwards contrived a scheme for my returning to Spain in this brigantine, accompanied by two native Turks, the very persons who killed your soldiers, and that Spanish renegado,’ (pointing to him who spoke first) ‘who I know is a Christian in his heart, and is much more desirous of remaining in Spain than of returning to Barbary; the rest of the crew are Moors and Turks, whom we engaged as rowers. The two insolent and rapacious Turks, without minding the order they received to land the renegado and me in the habit of Christians, with which we were provided on the first part of Spain they could make, resolved previously to scour the coast, with a view to take prizes, fearing that should they set us on shore beforehand, we might meet with some accident which would oblige us to discover that there was a corsair on the coast, and they of consequence run the risk of being taken by the gallies. At night we descried this road, though we did not perceive the four gallies, and being discovered, were taken as you see. In a word, Don Gregorio remains in the habit of a woman among the Moorish ladies, at the imminent hazard of his life, and here I stand fettered and manacled, in expectation, or rather in fear, of losing that existence of which I am already tired. This, Signior, is the end of my lamentable story, which is equally true and unfortunate; and all I beg of you is, that I may die like a Christian, seeing, as I have already observed, I have in no shape been guilty of the fault which hath been charged upon our unhappy nation!’
So saying, she stood silent, her lovely eyes impregnated with tears, which few of the spectators could behold unmoved; and the viceroy, whose disposition was humane and compassionate, unable to speak, advanced to the place, and with his own hands released those of the beautiful Moor.
While this Christian Moor related her peregrinations, an ancient pilgrim who had followed the viceroy into the galley, kept his eyes close fixed upon her countenance, and her story was no sooner finished than he threw himself at her feet, which he bathed with his tears, while in accents interrupted with a thousand sighs and groans, he exclaimed, ‘O, Anna Felix! my unhappy daughter; I am thy father Ricote, who have returned in search of thee to Spain, because I could not live without thee, who art dear to my affection even as my own soul!’
At these words, Sancho opened his eyes, and raised his head, which he had hitherto hung in manifest despondence, reflecting upon the disgrace of his flying adventure; and looking at the pilgrim, recognized that same Ricote whom he had encountered the very day on which he quitted his government: he likewise recollected the features of his daughter, who being by this time unbound, mingled her tears with those of her father, whom she tenderly embraced; and then the old man, addressing himself to the viceroy and general, ‘My lords,’ said he, ‘this is my daughter; not so happy in the incidents of her life, as in her name, which is Anna Felix, with the addition of Ricote, as famous for her beauty as for her father’s wealth. I left my country in quest of a place where we should be received and hospitably entertained; and having found such an asylum in Germany, I returned as a pilgrim in the company of some people of that nation; hoping to find my daughter, and fetch away the wealth which I had buried in the earth: my daughter was gone, but I recovered my hoard, which is in my possession; and now, by this strange vicissitude which you have seen, I have retrieved that treasure which is the chief object of my affection, I mean, my beloved daughter. If our innocence and mutual tears can have influence enough upon your integrity and justice, to open the gates of mercy, O let it prevail in favour of us, who never offended you even in thought, nor in any shape corresponded with the designs of our people, who have been justly expelled.’ Here Sancho interposing, ‘I am very well acquainted with Ricote,’ said he, ‘and know all he has said about his daughter Anna Felix to be true; but with respect to that other trash of his comings and goings, and his good or evil designs, I neither meddle nor make.’ Every person present expressed admiration at this strange incident; and the general turning to the daughter, ‘Every tear you let fall,’ said he, ‘conspires in preventing the performance of my oath. Live, beauteous Anna Felix, the term of your life prescribed by Heaven; and let those insolent and presumptuous wretches suffer punishment for the crimes they have committed.’
So saying, he ordered the two Turks, who had killed his soldiers, to be hanged at the yard’s-arm; but the viceroy earnestly entreated him to spare their lives, as their crime was rather the effect of madness than of preconceived design. The general granted his request, especially as he did not think it commendable to execute revenge in cold blood.
Then they began to contrive some method for extricating Don Gaspar Gregorio from the danger in which he was involved; and Ricote offered to the value of above two thousand ducats, which he had about him in pearls and jewels, to any person who could effect his deliverance. Many schemes were projected; but none of them seemed so sensible as that which was presented by the fore-mentioned Spanish renegado, who offered to return to Algiers in some small bark of about six banks, manned with Christians, as he knew where, how, and when he might land with safety, and was well acquainted with the house in which Don Gaspar remained. The general and the viceroy were dubious of the renegado, and scrupled to trust him with the command of Christian rowers; but Anna Felix was satisfied of his integrity, and her father said he would engage to ransom them, should they chance to be taken and enslaved.
Matters being settled on this footing, the viceroy went ashore, after having laid strong injunctions on Don Antonio Moreno, who had invited the Moorish beauty and her father to his house, to make much of his guests, and command whatever his own palace could afford for their entertainment. Such was the charity and benevolence which Anna’s beauty had infused into his heart!