The Wanderings of Persiles and Sigismunda: A Northern StoryCervantes Saavedra, Miguel de
General
The Wanderings of Persiles and Sigismunda: A Northern Story
Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de
Spanish fiction -- Translations into English; Voyages and travels -- Fiction
father and his former enemy were friends, and that since they were so,
they must have considered all the circumstances of his case thoroughly.
Pleased and contented with this good news, he set off again on his
journey with his companions, to whom he told all he had heard of his
affairs, and that a brother of the man he had considered his enemy,
had inherited the estates, and was living on the same friendly terms
with his father as his deceased brother had done. It was Antonio's wish
that none of them should do anything but as he ordered, as he intended
to make them known to his father, not suddenly, but in some circuitous
way, so as to increase the pleasure of the discovery, for sometimes too
sudden a joy will kill like a sudden grief.
About three days' more travel brought them at dusk to his father's
house. The father and mother were sitting at the door of their house,
enjoying the freshness of the evening air, for it was the summer
season. They all approached together, and Antonio spoke first to his
father. "Is there by chance in this place a hospital for pilgrims,
sir?" he asked. "As our inhabitants are good Christians," replied the
father, "every house is an hospital for pilgrims, and if no other
should be so, mine, as far as it goes, may serve for you all."
"Is not this place called Quintanas de la Orden, sir," asked Antonio;
"and does not a person live here called by some a gentleman of the name
of Villaseñores? I ask you this, because I knew a man of this name in
far distant countries, and if he was here, neither I nor my companions
need go anywhere for a lodging."
"And what was the name of this Villaseñores of whom you speak?" asked
the mother.
"He was called Antonio," replied Antonio, "and his father's name was,
if I remember right, Diego de Villaseñor."
"Ah, sir!" cried the mother, rising from her seat, "and to my sorrow
it is now seventeen years that he has been missing from his native
land. How many tears, sighs, and prayers, have been exhausted for his
restoration to me; would to God that these eyes may ever again behold
him, before they are closed in eternal night. Tell me, is it long since
you saw him? is it long since you left him? was he in good health? did
he talk of returning home? does he remember his parents, to whom he may
now come back, for he has no enemies to hinder his doing so. Those who
caused his departure from his own country, are now friends."
The old father listened to all these words, and then called aloud
to his servants to bring lights, and to admit into the house the
pilgrim guests, and going up to his as yet unknown son, he embraced
him closely, saying, "For your sake alone I would gladly give you all
lodging, even though it were not my custom to receive pilgrims, but now
this glad tidings that you have brought increases my inclination to do
so, and makes me doubly desirous to serve you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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