The Wanderings of Persiles and Sigismunda: A Northern StoryCervantes Saavedra, Miguel de
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The Wanderings of Persiles and Sigismunda: A Northern Story
Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de
Spanish fiction -- Translations into English; Voyages and travels -- Fiction
"That evening we reached the shore, where we remained until the
following morning, when we found it thronged with a multitude of
persons, who were come to look at the prize of the frozen and petrified
ships. Among them, mounted upon a beautiful horse, was the King
Cratilius: we easily recognized him to be so by the insignia of royalty
that adorned him; by his side, also mounted on horseback, was a very
handsome woman, arrayed in white armour, which was nearly covered by
a large black veil. She attracted my attention by her appearance, as
also did the noble and gallant bearing of the king, and looking at her
attentively, I knew her to be the beautiful Sulpicia, who had so lately
been restored to the liberty she now enjoyed by the courtesy of my
companions. The king came up to us to look at the persons who had been
brought from the ships, and the captain taking me by the hand, brought
me forward, and said, 'In this young man alone, O noble king, I present
to you what appears to me the richest prize that human eyes have ever
seen.'
"'Merciful Heaven!' here exclaimed the fair Sulpicia, springing from
her horse to the ground, 'either I cannot see aright, or this is my
deliverer Periander!' and so saying, she threw her arms round my neck,
and closely embraced me, at which extraordinary demonstrations of
affection, Cratilius thought himself obliged to dismount also, and
to greet me with the same tokens of pleasure. Until now all hope of
anything like good fortune had been lost by my poor companions; but at
the sight of all this joyful reception which they now witnessed, they
took courage; joy beamed from their eyes, and from their lips came
words of gratitude to God for this unexpected happiness.
"Then Sulpicia said to Cratilius, 'In this youth, sire, you see one
in whom an excess of courtesy and generosity dwells supreme, and
although I have learned this by my own experience, I wish you to
believe it to be true by the very nobleness of his appearance. (In
this you will perceive she only spoke like a very grateful person,
and deceived herself.) It was he who did not despise, but would not
take my treasures. He received my gifts to return them to me with a
kindness that made them doubly valuable: if he could he would have
given me more. It was he who knew how to dispose his people's minds, so
that his will was theirs. He bestowed twelve of them upon me, who are
even now accompanying me, and I have them here before thee.' You will
easily believe that my cheeks burned with blushes at these praises, so
extravagant and unmerited. I could do no more than bend my knee before
the king, asking leave to kiss his hand; he gave it, but not for that
purpose, only to raise me from the ground.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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