Chapter III: Part 3

"Nevertheless, behold the strange accident which happened unto them both, as a beginning of their misfortunes; for it being rumoured at Madrid that Pamphilus was come from Flanders, the news thereof came unto my father’s ears, who (desirous to make him his son in law, in favour of the ancient acquaintance and love he had with his father, and because that it had been formerly agreed between them) one day told her, that he was resolved to marry her, not naming unto whom; and thereupon writing to Madrid, to Pamphilus’ mother, entreating her to send him to Toledo, congratulating also with her, her son’s happy return and the prosperous success of his affairs, and remembered unto her the amity which he had contracted with her husband, his father. The sad Nisa, who already desperately loved Pamphilus, told him that her father would marry her, and the knight who was designed for her husband was shortly to come from Madrid unto their house, but she knew nothing in particular more of him, but that he was a brave soldier who lately came out of Flanders. Pamphilus (ignorant that he was the person who was meant) fell into great extremity at the news, and after many tears and other follies, he said he was resolved to be gone, for his heart would never suffer him to see a new servant unto his mistress in this house. A strange and never heard of story, that a man should be jealous of himself, and fly from his own presence. Nisa who now thought it as impossible for her to be without Pamphilus, as the Earth without water, fire without matter to burn, or as the celestial harmony without their first mover, said unto him in weeping, that she would have him take her away with him, and that she would follow him over the world; yet upon this condition, that he should swear solemnly, never to lose the respect which was due unto her honour: which oath being taken by Pamphilus without any consideration of the danger which might happen: he made choice of a dark night, and by a garden which answered upon the river, took her from the house, and by the same river went from the town, carrying her in his bark, until he came unto those mountains which are called Sisla: this was it which he writ afterwards from Valencia to a friend of his of Saragossa.

Now follows the beginning of my peregrination, which (having been too long in this history) I will briefly relate. At the dolorous letter which was written to me of this success (which was discovered as soon as Pamphilus was gone from Toledo) I came from Salamanca to my father’s house, which I found all in mourning for the loss of my sister. My father in few words obliged me to revenge it, which I swore that I would, with many words as free as his were grave: and to execute my intent I went to Madrid. I sought Pamphilus in all the houses of his friends, and visited his mother, asking news of him, making show how things had passed. His innocent mother said, it was two years since he went into Flanders, and that from the time of his departure, she never had heard from him, from whence she collected he was dead. I thought that she, knowing what he had done, had disguised the truth: and while I was in this meditation, I casting my eyes upon a young gentlewoman, who sat sewing by this reverend matron. I found her in my mind so fair, that her only look had power to temper my sorrow, and hardly had I fully viewed her perfections, when as I propounded in myself to serve her, and to steal her away, thinking by this means to give satisfaction to our honour, and beginning to my revenge. To recount unto you at this time all the passages and the care which I used to speak with her, and to bring her to my will, would be to trouble you with a long discourse; let it satisfy that I drew her from her house with the same thread wherewith Pamphilus had pulled Nisa from ours, and in a strange and foolish mind led her into France, where her beauty ministered subject unto a knight to serve her and for me to kill him: from whence it followed that for safety of my life I was driven to leave her. Nevertheless, I am resolved whatsoever happen unto me to seek her, because that besides, I do love her more than myself, I owe so much unto her merit and virtue with which she hath faithfully accompanied me, through many and variable successes."

Night had spread his black veil over the face of the Earth, and the houses were as full of candles, as the heaven of stars; men and creatures retired themselves, from their common labour, when as the miserable Pamphilus gave over hearing the tragedy of his love, with the last act of his honour: and to know that he did then but begin to suffer his evils when he thought he was at an end of them. He admired the justice of Heaven, which had suffered that his sister should so lightly have quitted her mother’s house to run away with a man; yet finding in himself the example of his own misleading of Nisa, and that the injury which he had done unto Celio was no less than that which he had received, he did not hold it just in himself once to think of revenge, but rather to persuade him that he should not, nor ought to leave her, which he performed with the best words, and the liveliest reasons he could devise. Remonstrating unto him that amongst gentlemen the only condition of nobleness should bind him to seek for her, which Celio allowing for most reasonable, gave him his word to employ his endeavours to that purpose. And being lodged this night together, they supped and slept in one house. The next morning Pamphilus gave him a letter to a French gentleman with whom he had great acquaintance, that he might favour him in finding out Finia, for so was his sister called. But Celio departed not for certain days, during which time there was a perfect friendship knit between those two secret enemies; so that Pamphilus knowing the offence which Celio had done unto him, pardoned him in his heart, and Celio ignorant that this was Pamphilus, was disposed to the pardoning of him. The resolution was with great oaths to enquire out one the other, and to help each other in all accidents as brothers; assigning the rendezvous within six months, in the city of Pamplona.

So went Celio upon his enterprise; and some few days after his departure, Pamphilus’ sorrow increasing out of the opinion that it was impossible for him to recover Nisa; it happened that going one night from his lodging in a vain desire he had to see the windows of the prison (where his happiness and joy was enclosed) he heard a knight cry out for help against some who would at advantage have killed him. He suddenly stepped unto him, and drawing out his sword out of his palmer’s staff with an incredible dexterity, accompanied with a valiant & brave courage, made them loose him whom they would have killed, and save their own lives by a shameful though a safe flight.

The knight would needs know who he was, who had delivered him from so great danger: and although Pamphilus excused himself from telling his name, yet the knight’s desire and courtesy prevailed more than the humbleness wherewith the pilgrim did endeavour to persuade him that he had done him no service: to conclude, he led him to his house, where his good and gentle behaviour being observed, the knight and his parents bore such affection unto him that they did oblige him to become their guest.

There remained Pamphilus some days, at the end of which Jacinth (so was this knight called) told him the history of his love unto fair Lucinda, and the occasion for which these assassinators wold have murdered him, who for this only cause, were come from Seville unto Valencia where the subject of the passion and the sorrow wherein he lived did remain. I do believe that lovers have some sympathy one with another, and that they join and communicate in such manner as you have seen in this discourse, seeing that our pilgrim never came into any house where there was not someone or other tainted with this evil, even though it were in craggy mountains.

By this overture of Jacinth’s secret, Pamphilus was bound to reveal his: and after he had made him swear that he would grant him his request, he said that in recompense of his life which he had saved, as he himself confessed, he conjured him to help him to a place, in that prison where the mad folks were shut up. Jacinth, astonished at so strange a request, would needs know the cause. But Pamphilus promising to tell him as soon as he had done him that favour, and casting himself at his feet with most earnest and unheard of words, affirming the good he should doe him to put him in this place, made Jacinth suspect that some secret danger did enforce him into that place. And willing very generously to satisfy the obligation wherein he was tied, after some inconveniences and reasons urged to divert him, having agreed with him of the means which he should use. That very night Jacinth took five or six men of the hospital who entering suddenly into Pamphilus’ chamber, put him in a chair, and carried him away in their arms. Miserable condition of this man, who after so many strange successes, being wise (if those who love can be so) to make himself to be taken and shut up willingly, as a madman, where all the mad folks would willingly be accounted wise.

All Jacinth’s house admired at this novelty, and all his family complained that this stranger, unto whom Jacinth owed his life, was so unworthily requited by Jacinth himself: but she who most complained of his cruelty and had the truest feeling of it was Tiberia his sister, who was both fair and discreet above all the ladies in Valencia, who affecting the gentleness and fair spirit of our unfortunate pilgrim, did not see but by his eyes, and did not breathe but from him. Jacinth told them that Pamphilus was mad, and that it was necessary he should be cured before the disease increased too far. The father of this knight, who was very learned, blamed exceedingly this precipitate course, saying that in all infirmities there was nothing more dangerous than physic out of season, and swore that he should be had out of the hospital to be cured in his house. Tiberia confirmed this piety, saying that reward due unto him, they being not so poor, but that they had means sufficient to have him cured in their house, with greater care of his health, and less scandal to his honour Jacinth replied that he was a stranger, and that nobody knew him. But all the household were so much against him, blaming him for ingratitude, especially his father and his sister, that he was constrained to tell them what he knew. Whereat in imagining the cause, all of them were astonished, and wondered. They thought that Pamphilus was a spy, who went disguised under the habit of a pilgrim, and that fearing to be known by someone, he used this subtility to save his life: for although he spoke Spanish, nevertheless, by his fair face and exceeding beauty, he seemed a stranger, and by his actions a gentleman. With this confession, Jacinth remained in their good opinion, though the house was much troubled, and Tiberia was full of pitiful grief and care for Pamphilus’ life: who being in prison among the mad folks (in the judgement of many, the very centre of greatest misery) imagined himself to be in most glorious happiness.

To this new madman the more ancient gave place, and Pamphilus, with divers feignings and counterfeitings of his face, endeavoured to express his madness; which fashion of his, seeming them as tokens of rashness, they put him into the prison with irons on his hands, where to confirm them the more in their opinion of his madness, he said so many words so far from the matter, that his affliction was believed. There he stayed some few days before he could see his beloved Nisa, suffering most insupportable discommodities, difficult to be spoken of, and almost impossible to be believed; in the meantime Celio went by Saragossa into France, to find his beautiful and beloved Finia whom he had lost, where being come, he heard the news of the peace which was proclaimed between the two nations, which made him rest that night (with more contentment out of the facility which it brought to his design) staying for the light of the morning to clear his passage over the mountains into France.

The End of the Second Book.

Book Three

Whilst the sad and afflicted Celio entered into France by the mountains of Jaca to see if he could find his dear Finia, our pilgrim Pamphilus having gotten out of the prison, as a madman whose fury was over, was admitted to the table where others did eat, where also sat his fair Nisa; near unto whom he did always endeavour to sit, and there and in all other convenient places he told her his fortunes. She blamed him for putting himself into this place, although she did acknowledge how she was tied unto him, for this his great folly.

Pamphilus as a true lover, who only aimed at the end of his love, which was to marry her, and who had sworn by a thousand oaths to resist the violence of his desires until a lawful marriage would suffer him to accomplish them, said unto her in comforting her, that if she had suffered this misery for him, and that they ought to be all one, there was no reason but he should have his part of this misery, to the end that equal in all things, their marriage might be without advantage of one side or another, and that his love unto her did prevail so far as not to let pass one day without seeing her, notwithstanding any danger, and although his honour were thereby in hazard. The servants of the house did not hinder their speaking together, because that Nisa being apparelled like a man, and having a care that her hair should not reveal her sex, everybody did believe that she was as she seemed to be. For although that her beauty were extreme, yet the world hath not any so great, but it appeareth little, being much neglected; especially seeing that if art do not polish the beautifullest and finest diamonds, and that they be not set in gold with enamelling and other necessary ornaments, they show not the lustre, grace nor beauty which they have being artificially cut and set in a foil by cunning workmen.

The misery of this kind of life seemed unto our two lovers as nothing in regard of the former travails which they had suffered, as I have heard it often said by many: and I myself know by experience that if two lovers may see and speak together, they have no feeling of the miseries which do serve them as means to attain thereunto. Oh what will not those which love resolve of! What is it, which doth not seem possible unto them? What travails can weary them? And what dangers can make them fear? O love strong as death: seeing that a lover living in that which he loves, and being dead in himself, hath no more feeling of torment then a body deprived of a soul. With what tears were these two separated at night, by the cruel officers of this prison? (If it be cruelty to deal rigorously with mad folks) with what care and languishment did they attend the day that they might see one the other? What discreet follies did they utter in public, full of equivocations to deceive those who heard them, and to divert the evils which they suffered? And with what amorous discourses did they in particular warm their desires to marry? How much doth he commend Nisa's virtue, and the chaste but loving defence which she made of her honour, for Pamphilus being a man had yielded often unto his passion, if she had not moderated his violence? With what grace they gave madly, favours one unto another, of the wildest things they could find upon the ground, which Pamphilus stuck in his hat, instead of jewels or feathers which he was wont to wear. But fortune envying their contentedness, even in this misery, would not let them live in this place at rest, but arming himself anew against them, even at that time when as they thought (by Jacinth’s help) to get out of that prison, there came unto this city an Italian earl, of the house of Aguilora, called Emilio, who desiring to have a Fool with him, promised a great alms unto their house if they would give him a madman, who having lost his fury might entertain him with sport. Those of the hospital failed not to promise him one, and withal to bring him to his lodging some of their most peaceable madmen, amongst whom were the pilgrim Pamphilus and the fair Nisa. The Earl joyful to see them, inquired of their keepers their conditions, one of whom answered thus:

This man strong and able who you see there, was sometimes a brave soldier, who having served upon many occasions like a Hector, desired the reward of his valour which he had merited above all other. But he finding himself denied, and that it was given unto the cowardliest fellow in the army, fell from this imagination into so profound a melancholy, that he lost his wits. He hath lost his fury in the prison although oftentimes it returns. His discourse is always of marshalling an army, of besieging a fort, of lodging a camp, or causing it to march. All is sluices, dykes, trenches, platforms, ravelins, casemates, flankers, palisadoes, counterscarps, squadrons, cannons, muskets, pistols, corselets, pikes. This weak and pale man is of another humour, who having given himself too much to the study of philosophy, lost his understanding. Of this man the Earl demanded, which was the Primum Mobile, either Coelum Imperium, or Coelum Crystallinum? unto whom the madman answered thus:

"After moving the spheres by a local motion, the divines do teach us that there is another heaven perpetually in rest from all motion, created from the beginning, and full of an innumerable thousands of intelligences and of happy spirits, which were created together in it and with it. In such sort as the mingled bodies are accustomed to engender some things in inferior places, as fishes in the water, birds in the air and the vegetative creatures, plants and minerals in the earth. This heaven for its greatness and for its inestimable light, is called Imperial, as who should say Fiery (not for the natural property of fire, but for the glorious clearness wherewith it shineth) is the throne destined before the constitution of the world, and as a royal palace ordained from the beginning, for all those who are to reign before the face of God, the light whereof is so lustrous and clear, that the corporal eyes cannot behold or look upon it, no more than the birds of the night can the sun."

All the assistants remaining astonished at this discourse, another one of the madmen began to cry, calling his dogs, and luring his hawks like the great falconer and huntsman as he had been; of whom, as the Earl began to laugh, Pamphilus said thus unto him; you ought not mock at this exercise, but at those who exercise it unorderly and untimely, without respecting either season or place: for according to Xenophon and Athenaeus, hunting was famous amongst the Persians. Homer said it was practised amongst the Greeks that thereby their young men might become hardier; for as Horace writes, the Hunter often lies abroad in the cold night without remembering his wife. Philon the Hebrew tells notable things of hunting, in his Preface unto his Warfare. Cicero says no less, in his book of The Nature of the Gods. And Peter Gregory says that the original thereof, was in the beginning of the world to the end that men should be able to free themselves from the persecutions of beasts. If hunting, replied the Earl, (who was a man of great knowledge) had not passed from the honest exercise (the imitation of war) unto that of pleasure, who would doubt of the excellence thereof? But in regard of the hurt it doth in the fields, and the expense which it brings unto him who follows it? Louis the Twelfth King of France justly forbade it: for what else is the meaning of the fable of Actaeon, devoured by his dogs, but that overmuch hunting wastes both goods and life? And passing by many other things, which might be gathered from this verse of Virgil, where he says, Aeneas and sad Dido went a-hunting together in a wood: joined also the dangers of life which cannot be told, neither is it to be wondered at, that this man became mad, seeing that as Dion assureth the same exercise made the Emperor Adrian a fool. Then answered the mad hunter, that with more reason should he be laid in this place for a madman, because he would persuade madmen, and reason with them who had no reason.

The discourse of this madman, said the Earl savouring nothing of madness, obliges me to answer: for a man must fight with those who give occasion, play with such as have money, and answer unto everyone in the same manner he speaks. But if all the madmen in Spain were as you, and that my children should remain there, I should rather desire to have them ignorant than learned; know said the fool that if it were possible a man should desire to be born in France, to live in Italy and to die in Spain, to be born for the nobleness of the French, who always have had their king of their own nation, and never mingled with any other; to live, for the liberty and felicity of Italy: and to die for the Catholic faith which is so certain in all Spain. And as concerning your children, whatsoever happens of it, suffer them not to live in ignorance; for there is less danger in being mad, than in being ignorant. Whilst this man spoke, another singing near to him let the Earl know that music had brought him to that estate, for it is said; that it is a kinswoman to poetry: the ancients said the madmen have comprised music amongst the liberal sciences. Aristotle in his Politics, Budeus in his Commentary upon the Greek tongue and Caelius the Rhodian do say that music is a mixture compounded of sounds sweet, flat and sharp. Plutarch in the life of Homer puts one voice flat and the other sharp, the flat voice proceeds from within and the sharp from the area of the mouth, and from their divers tempering make the harmony; the object of the hearing is the sound, and the reflection of the air, as Galen teaches; and the sound is made from the act of some one thing into another, by the means of the stroke which causes it: two bodies are required to make a sound, because that one cannot do it. The echo is an air struck into hollow places, which resisting the stroke of the voice, return the same words which are spoken. So say Themiserus, Pliny, Ovid and Macrobius in his Saturnales. The voice and the word are not one thing, the word holds the ground from the tongue helped by the nostrils, the lips and the teeth: and the instruments of the voice are the throat, the muscles which move, and the nerves which come down from the brain. Who was the first inventor of music? asked the Earl. The madman answered, Josephus said that it was Tubal, Adam’s nephew, although that others give the invention to Mercury, as Gregory Gerand: and Philostratus said that Mercury learned it from Orpheus and Amphion. But Eusebius attributes it to Dionysus. Then asked the Earl, into how many parts music was divided? The madman answered, according to Boetius, into the theoretical and the practical, be it either natural, artificial, celestial or human; the natural and celestial is that which is considered in the harmony of all the parts of the world: the human is that which treats of the proportions of the body and of the soul, and their parts: for Plato, Pythagoras and Architas have thought that the motions and conversions of the stars cannot be without music. And Vitruvius is of the opinion that buildings are not framed without music. Leaving celestial and human, there follows artificial, divided into musical organs and Instruments.

Thereupon the other madmen began to put in practice that whereof he only showed the theory, and began to make such a noise with confused and discording voices, that it was impossible to understand them. But being appeased, he who kept the madmen made great account unto the Earle of a mad astrologer, who by the contemplation of such high things was fallen into this abasement. Hardly had the Earl looked upon him, when he began to tell him that the composition and figure of the world in its form was called a sphere which was solid, and that passing through the middle, the poles were placed in the extremes or vertical points immovable: one made the North on this side of the Bear, and from the stars of that part of heaven called Aquila, Boreal or Arctic; The other which was opposite by diameter was called Antarctic and meridional; there was he interrupted by others, who would not let him proceed, and after it was not possible to appease them, although there were a great many more painters, poets and mathematicians, but above all there was an alchemist, a famous disciple of Raymundus Lullius.

At this time Emilio had fixed his eyes upon Nisa, and beholding the sadness with which she was silent, he demanded of the Master the humour of this mad creature? Who answered him, that love had brought him to his folly. Her delicate face, and the occasion of her evil, gave him at the same time desire and compassion with such affection, that agreeing with the Master at the price of a hundred crowns, he made choice of her from amongst all the other to lead her into Italy. But hardly had Pamphilus seen the effects of this election, when as his fury increasing truly, which was before but feigned, he struck, he bit and took on, as if he had been enraged against those who took his dear Nisa away. But they being a great many against him alone, the Earl took her from the house, and shortly after from Valencia. And Pamphilus tied up as a madman, was had back again with many grievous blows, bewailing bitterly the loss of his dear Nisa. And by how much he endeavoured to make the officers believe that he was not mad, by so much the more he persuaded them that he was not well in his wits: because being oppressed with grief he told them plainly that he had caused himself to be brought thither only to see this young mad creature, whom they had accounted to be a man, but indeed was a woman and his wife, whom he had concealed under this habit for fear of her father, from whom he had stolen her away.

But they were so confirmed in their opinion of his madness, that by those reasons whereby he did think they were tied to give him his liberty, he made them more obstinate to refuse him, until they might have more evident tokens of the tranquillity of his mind. Whilst he did complain to see that it served him to no purpose to tell the truth, which of all things in the world doth most enrage a man, and that in regard of Jacinth’s absence, he could not tell unto whom to have recourse. The unfortunate Nisa was meanwhile come to Barcelona, with so much sorrow and tears that Emilio already repented that he had bought her: inasmuch as there is nothing more unprofitable than a sad fool. The Earl embarked, not knowing that she whom he led with him had the fortune of Scianus’ horse, which cost his masters their lives: He endeavoured to rejoice Nisa, causing her to sit at his table, to make her eat meat, because it was told him that she would famish herself to death, where earnestly beholding her face, and considering her actions, he did suspect, that she was neither mad, nor a man: He let this day pass over, and the next day he was assured of both; Inasmuch as so great a sadness could not be feigned; and that Nisa's reserved speech and the modesty of her looks declared openly that which upon other occasions she had hidden with so much care; Emilio being then persuaded that this mad creature was a woman, or at the least having evident tokens thereof, inquired with great care of her sadness, using her as a gentlewoman, and with respect due unto her sex. Nisa who had now neither care to disguise herself nor to live, confessed she was a woman, and would not be comforted by Emilio's words: but Emilio, who the more he conversed with her the more was engaged in her love, in the end suffered himself to be vanquished in her beauty: for Nisa now ceasing to appear as a man captivated all those who beheld her with her marvellous grace. Love then began to make himself master over Emilio through pity, which is the cloak under which it enters into our minds; as the pill under gold, that the bitterness may not offend: and his passion increased so far as to desire to know her evil and to procure her remedy. But neither for any effect of love, nor hope of remedy that he could give her would Nisa witness any feeling of pleasure, or obligation to him: all which served to sharpen Emilio’s desires, which he did make appear with greater demonstrations: whereat Nisa being grieved, endeavoured to divert him from her love, conjuring him with tears that he would not lead her in this indecent habit. The Earl being courteous offered her other clothes, but she assured him that she had made a vow never to wear any but pilgrim’s habit, until she had seen the Patron of Spain in Galicia. Emilio nevertheless did make her one of serge, and the pilgrim being new clothed appeared more beautiful, there being no new apparel which doth not embellish, nor so poor a habit new which doth not enrich a well-proportioned body.

But by this time, a great fog with a tempestuous wind arising in the gulf, the mariners knew by the signs which are wont to forerun such storms that they were likely to undergo a great hazard of drowning. Their presage was not vain, for the wind rose with such extremity and violence and the sea wrought with such huge billows that the Masters could no more command, nor the rowers obey. The Captain was astonished, the pilot pale, some cried, others silent and without stirring remained as men in a trance with fear. And in this confusion which continued six hours, the miserable galley split against the rocks; Emilio who now no more remembered his love, and who knew not that the unfortunateness of Nisa brought forth this effect (clean contrary unto Caesar’s fortune, which appeased storms) endeavoured to save his life with much travail: and the heaven reserving Nisa's life to run greater fortunes, cast her as formerly she had been upon the shore of Barcelona.

Those which remained alive were cast away in the same place: Nisa having stayed some time to recover herself after this fortune went in pilgrimage to Marseille: where one day visiting the famous Church of the Penitent, whom the angels buried in the mountain where God gave his laws to Moses, she saw a woman, a pilgrim as herself though in other habit, who with great devotion was upon her knees at the stairs of the great altar. She appeared to Nisa to be a Spaniard, wherefore desiring better to inform herself, obliged thereunto, by her love unto the country, she stayed at the gate whereat (when having done her devotions) she came forth, and Nisa saluting her, they both found that they were Castilians: their joy was so great that it had been confirmed by embraces, if the man’s apparel which Nisa wore, had not hindered it: and little by little they went apart, that they might speak more freely, and with less fear of the French, who already begun to behold their beauties: and being placed under a rock which was adjoining the sea, Nisa said thus unto her, of what province are you, fair Spaniard? Of the Kingdom of Toledo (answered the pilgrim) and of the greatest city, having merited to lodge the kings for many years: you are then of Madrid replied Nisa, and so we are here met by chance two pilgrims of one country, for I am also of Toledo. Then, said the pilgrim, fetching a great sigh: there was born the cause of my peregrination, and of my misfortune. It is easy to be seen in thy youth and in thy beauty, that love hath brought you into these parts; and if it be of a gentleman of whom thou dost complain, I believe I know him. It may be so, said the pilgrim of Madrid, and believe me so soon as I saw you I was abashed, because you have the very countenance of my enemy; you wish me evil by all circumstance, then said Nisa: rather all good replied the pilgrim; for all that resembles his body is agreeable to me, only I complain of the cruelty of his mind. Will you not tell me his name or his parents? said Nisa. I hazard a small matter in telling thee that, answered she; for contrariwise I gain thus much, that it seems to me I am quiet and at peace, having seen thee, which since I lost him never came to me before now. His name is Celio, and the name of a sister which he hath is Nisa, which are the best tokens I can give thee, to make him known to thee; because besides that she is famous for her beauty, she is also more famous for her disgrace. Nisa remained astonished to hear her own name and her brother Celio’s (for this pilgrim was Finia, Pamphilus’ sister, who had been left in France as you have already heard) wherefore she desired earnestly to know the particular of this story, which Finia related in the same manner as Celio had done to Pamphilus. In the city of Valencia, accusing his jealousy, which had made him cruelly kill a French gentleman from whose death ensued his absence, and all the miseries and travails which she had since endured; Nisa dissembling that part which she had in the story, blamed the cruelty of her brother Celio, and with the contentment, which she received in seeing Pamphilus’ portrait, in Finia her beauty, she tempered her grief for his absence, and her sorrow which she had, that both their parents should lose their children for one cause: then did she tell her that she knew Pamphilus, and that it was not long since she saw him, assuring her (as one verily believing) that he was in Spain: Finia demanded of Nisa how she knew him, and where it was that she had seen him? And Nisa because she would not reveal herself, told her that she had known him at Constantinople, where they had been both slaves together: Finia bursting into tears, embraced Nisa and implored her to tell her name and the story of her brother if she knew it: Nisa answered that Pamphilus himself had heretofore in his captivity told it to her, and that she would willingly recount it to her: but first she deceived Finia in telling her that her name was Felix, and that going from Toledo with a captain who embarked in Cartagena, they had been made captives in passing to Oran and afterwards had to Algiers, where a Turk of Constantinople had bought her. And so following the story of Pamphilus which was also hers, from the beginning as you have heard related by Celio until their departure from Toledo, she began to say as follows:

The Story of Pamphilus and Nisa.

"After that Pamphilus went away from Toledo with Nisa, thinking that her father would marry her with another, and being jealous of himself, he told me that suffering some of those discommodities, which do offer themselves unto such men as travail without their lawful wives, they came to Seville, a beautiful city, if the sun shine upon any, for riches, greatness, magnificence, policy, haven and staple of the Indies: where it may be said that twice every year, there enters the substance of all Spain. There would Pamphilus enjoy the beauties of Nisa; but on a sudden he lost the respect which he was accustomed to bear to her chastity against the oath which he had solemnly sworn, and hid himself for some days out of her sight, during which time he was ready to grow mad; yet finding her again, and craving pardon with new oaths to keep the first inviolably, they were friends again.

But Pamphilus being one day at the market place, he was recognised by a merchant of Toledo, a great friend to Nisa her father, who going about to lay hands on him and apprehend him, Pamphilus was enforced to lay hand upon his sword, to defend himself from the Justice. It happened well for Pamphilus, whose courage and address in arms is incredible, and accompanied with an admirable force; He was nevertheless constrained to depart speedily from Seville. And he thinking it discommodious for him to lead Nisa with him in her woman’s apparel, he clothed her in a suit of his, and cutting off her hair (of which he after made great relics), he girt a sword to her side, and so they went to Lisbon together; but they were hardly accommodated in their lodging, when as a captain, and a great friend to Lisard, Nisa’s elder brother, who was now in Flanders, had advertisement of their coming. Although Nisa were sufficiently disguised, yet her countenance (to those who had formerly seen her) being sufficiently known, would easily reveal that which they did so carefully endeavour to hide.

But their good fortune (which delivered them from these dangers, it may be to reserve them for greater) would at that time, wherein the captain and his friends came to search for Pamphilus, that Nisa was alone in the lodging, of whom having enquired her name and her masters, she said she was a boy who served Pamphilus de Luxan, a knight of Madrid, not thinking that it did import to tell his name in a strange country. The captain never informed himself farther for what he sought; but his ensign inquired news of Nisa; whereat she being troubled, and repenting that she had said anything of Pamphilus, answered that she was gone by sea with Pamphilus to refresh themselves as far as Belen, a famous monastery and the ancient sepulchre of the Kings of Portugal. This sudden lie of Nisa saved Pamphilus’ life, or at the least the honour of both those lovers: for the soldiers went presently to the haven attending there for their return; and the captain accounting them already taken, and liking Nisa her fashion, behaviour and countenance exceeding well, entreated her to become his page, assuring her that he would use her better than any that ever had worn his casque: Nisa seemed to yield with great willingness, if he pleased to accept of his service, and dissembling the care and fear which she had of Pamphilus’ life, said to the captain that having spoken with her master and given him an account of such jewels and other things as were in his custody, he would not fail to come to him; with this answer the captain and the soldiers were hardly gone out of the doors, when Pamphilus came out of the town to his lodging, little thinking his enemies were so near to him: what help do strange countries bring to those unto whom misfortunes are ever domestic? Nisa told him the danger which threatened him, and Pamphilus having recourse to the remedy, took a speedy resolution to leave Spain. Nisa promised to follow him through seas and lands, (howsoever unknown) and a Portuguese knight who had a company in Ceuta offered to conduct him. Ceuta is a frontier tower of the Moors in Africa, not far from Tetouan, and as it were placed to confront Gibraltar, as the uttermost bound of Europe: by which place it is said the Moors entered, who under the leading of Julian conquered Spain. There remained our two lovers for some time in great peace; although Pamphilus discontent to see his desires denied by Nisa her chaste resolution, had no great quietness in his own mind. He would have married her, but it was not possible to persuade Nisa unto it; she thinking it would be a great disparagement unto her honour for her to be married in this manner: and then when he seemed with reason to persuade her, she contradicted him with tears, remonstrating that she was his, and that true love had a respect unto an honest end, whereas he who propounded unto himself only delight, differed little from a beast. Pamphilus cursed these reasons of Nisa, and sometimes out of grief, would go a whole day and not speak to her, until in the end overcome with her sweet patience, he was constrained to send a thousand sighs as ambassadors for a peace to her, who had the empire over him.

Now the noble courage of this young knight, seeing himself amongst so many brave soldiers, who went every day to the wars against the Moors, did believe that it was a dishonour to his birth to carry a sword idle by his side, whilst others bathed theirs in their enemies’ blood; wherefore one morning from the watchtowers, the bells and trumpets giving the alarm, incited by his own generosity and with the disdains wherewith Nisa in his opinion had disgraced him three or four days before, he went forth armed at all points, having a red scarf upon his left arm, a white feather upon his helm, and a mountain of snow upon his shield; from the top of which, as from Mount Etna in Sicily came a mouth of fire. So went Pamphilus out upon his bay horse, which had a black mane and a black tail, and a white star on the forehead, filling the Portuguese with admiration to see with what address he managed him; and how gracefully he bore his lance; but Nisa her evil fortune or his own desperate resolution who prayed at his departure that she might not see him return alive, suffered the battle to be ordered in such manner that day that the Christians had the worst; and Pamphilus searching death, broke into a squadron of Moors where being wounded and overthrown, he was taken and led prisoner unto Fez.

The news of this accident came speedily to Nisa’s ears, for the report of evil successes come sooner to the ears of lovers than that of happy events: what her grief was it is not necessary to express, otherwise than in representing Nisa far from her parents, out of her own country, and from any friends, and which was most, from the dear presence of him for whose sake she had quitted all these, and for whose loss she was almost out of her wits. But as the greatest encounters of fortune do sometime bring forth the greatest strength and courage of the mind; so Nisa’s grief raised in her mind such valiant virtue, that she boldly thrust herself into the acquaintance and friendship of a Moor, who with a safe conduct trafficked in Ceuta: him she so far gained with her affability and presence, that he lead her with him to Fez under the habit of an Arab, he teaching her in a few days the greatest part of the language (of which she was not altogether ignorant before) Nisa thus lived in Fez in the habit of a Moor, and under the name of nephew to this barbarian, who charmed with her understanding, gentleness of spirit and graceful behaviour, endeavoured to persuade her to leave our religion, promising to give him his daughter with the best part of his estate, which was exceeding much. Nisa did not refuse him, nevertheless she entreated him that he would first suffer her to be instructed in the law, that she might receive it with more assurance, and more quietness of mind. With these words and with her beauty, Nisa grew absolute master of this Moor, of his women (wherein they abound) of Leila Acha his daughter, of his goods, his slaves and his horses: upon which as she rode up and down the town for her pleasure, she was almost adored by these barbarians. She called herself Hassan Rubin amongst them, a name which Ali Japha had given her in memory of his son, in whose place he accounted of her, saying that she was his portraiture. Amongst Ali Japha’s slaves there was one Spaniard, with whom Nisa having many times speech, she entreated him that he would inquire secretly with whom a slave of the Kingdom of Toledo lived; and whose name was Pamphilus? This man found out the same day, and following her when she was alone, he told her that Sali Murat had taken him in a battle which was fought in Ceuta, and had him still in his power, with other slaves who served the masons about the house which he was building: Nisa glad of this news, in the evening got on horseback, clothed in a scarlet casque, laid about with gold lace, having a hat upon her head embroidered with pearl and a great feather, and a rich sword of Tunis hanging in a scarf by her side: in this manner she went into the street where Sali Murat dwelt, and saw (in a new house which was there being built) her miserable (but beloved) Pamphilus, not yet fully healed of his wounds, having a poor doublet of course canvas and breeches of the same, without shoes upon his feet, and carrying with another Christian the materials wherewith that house was to be built; she stayed not (as she had thought) because that seeing him in this state, the tears which she shed would have revealed her; but feigning to turn her horse in the street, and the beams of her face properly resembling them of the sun having scattered the clouds of this water, she stayed looking upon these slaves, and said unto Pamphilus in the language of Fez, why doth Murat build this fair house, having another in this street so fair? Pamphilus answered (according to his knowledge) that they were for the keeping of slaves, because that since his good success in the former war he was grown proud, and did presage that he should have many. Thou art then his slave, said she, in the Castilian tongue. Pamphilus answered that by his misfortune he was brought to that estate, and earnestly beholding her face, let fall to the ground that which he held in his hand, wondering to see a Moor which should so perfectly resemble his beloved Nisa: for that this should be she, he could not persuade himself, by reason of her language, her habit and the small time since that he left her in Ceuta: so he remained without speaking, endeavouring to cover his astonishment and confusion by his silence, when as she speaking to him in the Arabian tongue asked of him if he were a knight? Pamphilus more assured that it was Nisa, by the resemblance of her face, and distrusting it was not she by her language, hearing her speak the language of Fez so naturally, answered her. I told Sali Murat that I was a poor man, but because you resemble so much a master which heretofore I had (unto whom I never lied in my life) I will not deceive you. I am a Castilian Knight, and of the Kingdom of Toledo, and of a place whereof it is not possible but you should have heard, because that the names of prince’s courts are notorious to all nations, as Paris in France, Rome in Italy, Constantinople in Greece and Madrid in Spain; there was I born, subject unto this misfortune wherein you see me. But gentle Moor, I pray tell me, who you are and why you ask of me my country and my quality? I am, said Nisa, nephew to the governor Ali Japha, and son to Muley Nuzan his brother, by a Christian slave who was born in Toledo: my name is Hassan Rubin, although that heretofore I called myself by my mother’s name, Mendoza: my uncle’s son being dead, he sent for me to Morocco, the place of my birth, from whence he brought me hither, and to comfort himself called me by the name of his son; promising me to marry me unto Leila Acha his daughter, who is the fairest in all Africa, and this is the reason which inciteth me to love Christians (who are well born) because my mother was one; especially Spaniards and of her own country: and it grieves me extremely that thou art belonging to this governor, who is reputed to use his slaves hardly, as it may be seen by experience in thyself, who being such that thy nobility doth manifestly appear, notwithstanding the misery and poverty of thy clothes, yet doth put thee to such vile labour. Wherefore as well because thou pleasest me well as for the reasons which I have told thee, I will bring it to pass, if thou think good of it, that Ali Japha shall buy thee, and in his house there shall be nothing wanting unto thee but thy liberty; as for all other things I will use thee as myself. Pamphilus at these words cast himself at her feet, and by force did many times kiss them, thanking her for the favour which she did him.