Spanish fiction -- Translations into English; Spanish poetry -- Translations into English
kingdom of Catalonia, on leaving Perpignan, he fell in with a number of
brigands, who had as lord and chief a valiant Catalán gentleman, who by
reason of certain enmities was in the band--as it is the time-honoured
custom of that kingdom for those who have suffered from an enemy,
whenever they are persons of mark, to join one, and to inflict all the
evil they can, not only on lives, but on property, a practice opposed
to all Christianity, and worthy of all commiseration. It happened
then that while the brigands were busied in robbing Timbrio of what
he had with him, that moment their lord and captain came up, and as
after all he was a gentleman, he did not wish that any wrong should
be done to Timbrio before his eyes; but rather, deeming him a man of
worth and talents, he made him a thousand courteous offers, asking
him to remain with him that night in a place near by, for that on the
morrow he would give him a safe-conduct so that without any fear he
might pursue his journey until he left that province. Timbrio could
not but do what the courteous gentleman asked of him, constrained by
the good offices received from him; they went off together and came
to a little spot where they were joyously received by the people of
the place. But fortune, which up till then had jested with Timbrio,
ordained that that same night a company of soldiers, gathered together
for this very purpose, should fall in with the brigands: and having
surprised them, they easily routed them. And though they could not
seize the captain, they seized and killed many others, and one of the
prisoners was Timbrio, whom they took for a notorious robber in that
band, and as you may imagine, he must undoubtedly have much resembled
him, since, though the other prisoners testified that he was not the
man they thought, telling the truth about all that had happened, yet
malice had such power in the breasts of the judges that without further
inquiry they sentenced him to death. And this would have been carried
out, had not Heaven, that favours just purposes, ordained that the
galleys should depart, and I remain on land to do what I have so far
been telling you I did. Timbrio was in the church, and I in gaol,
arranging that he should set out that night for Barcelona, and while
I was waiting to see where the rage of the offended judges would end,
Timbrio and I were freed from our misfortune amidst another yet greater
that befell them. But would that Heaven had been kind and wreaked on
me alone the fury of its wrath, if but it had been averted from that
poor unfortunate people who placed their wretched necks beneath the
edges of a thousand barbarous swords. It would be a little more than
midnight, an hour suited for wicked onslaughts, at which the wearied
world is wont to yield its wearied limbs to the arms of sweet sleep,
when suddenly there arose among all the people a confused hubbub of
voices crying: "To arms, to arms, the Turks are in the land." The
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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