Don Quixote [Trans. by Edith Grossman] (60 page)

I cannot begin to describe for you the great beauty and grace, or the elegance of the rich attire, revealed to me by my beloved Zoraida. I will say only that more pearls hung from her lovely neck, ears, and tresses than she had hairs on her head. Around her ankles, which were bare, in accordance with Moorish custom, she wore two
carcajes
(the Moorish name for bracelets and bangles for the feet) of purest gold, studded with so many diamonds that, as she told me later, her father had valued them at ten thousand
doblas,
²
and the ones on her wrists were worth the same amount. She wore a large quantity of very fine pearls, because the greatest pride and joy of Moorish women is to adorn themselves with rich pearls, both large and small, and so the Moors have more pearls than any other nation; Zoraida’s father was said to own many of the best pearls in Algiers and to have more than two hundred thousand Spanish
escudos,
and she who is now mistress of my heart was mistress of all this. If she looks beautiful now, after her many tribulations, imagine how lovely she was then, dressed in all her finery. Because it is well-known that the beauty of some women has its days and its seasons and decreases or increases according to what happens to them, and it is natural for the soul’s passions to heighten or diminish that beauty, although they most commonly destroy it. But at that moment she appeared so richly attired and so exceedingly beautiful that she seemed the loveliest woman I had ever seen; furthermore, considering all that I owed her, it seemed to me that I had before me a heavenly goddess come down to earth to be my joy and salvation.

As soon as she approached us, her father told her in their language that I was a slave of his friend Arnaúte Mamí and had come to pick a salad. She began to speak, and in that mixture of languages I have already mentioned she asked me if I was a gentleman and why I had not been ransomed. I replied that I had been ransomed, and for a price that
would indicate how much my master valued me, for I had paid fifteen hundred
zoltanís
³
for myself. To which she responded:

‘In truth, if you belonged to my father, I would make certain that he did not ransom you for twice that amount, because you Christians always lie and pretend to be poor in order to deceive the Moors.’

‘That may be so, Señora,’ I replied, ‘but the truth is that I have been honest with my master, as I am and will be with everyone in the world.’

‘And when do you leave?’ said Zoraida.

‘Tomorrow, I believe,’ I said, ‘because a ship from France is scheduled to sail tomorrow, and I intend to leave on it.’

‘Do you think it would be better,’ Zoraida replied, ‘to wait for a vessel from Spain and sail on that rather than on a ship from France? For the French are not your friends.’

‘No,’ I responded, ‘though if it is true, as I have heard, that a ship is arriving from Spain, I might wait for it, but it is more likely that I shall leave tomorrow, because the desire I have to be in my own country and with the people I love is so great that I cannot endure waiting for another opportunity, even if it is a better one.’

‘No doubt you are married in your own country,’ said Zoraida, ‘and wish to return to your wife.’

‘I am not married,’ I responded, ‘but I have given my word to marry as soon as I return there.’

‘And is the lady to whom you gave your word beautiful?’ said Zoraida.

‘She is so beautiful,’ I responded, ‘that truthfully, she looks a great deal like you.’

At this her father laughed heartily and said:

‘By Allah, Christian, she must be very beautiful if she resembles my daughter, who is the most beautiful woman in this kingdom. If you doubt it, look at her carefully, and you will see that I am telling you the truth.’

Zoraida’s father, who was a Ladino,
⁴
acted as our interpreter for most of this exchange, for although she spoke the debased language that, as I have said, is used there, she tended to declare her meanings more by gestures than by words. As we were conversing, a Moor came running, shouting that four Turks had come over the fence or wall of the estate and were picking the fruit even though it was not ripe. The old man was alarmed, as was Zoraida, because the fear the Moors have of the Turks,
especially the soldiers, is widespread and almost instinctive, for they are so insolent and overbearing in their dealings with the Moors, who are their subjects, that they treat them worse than slaves. And so her father said to Zoraida:

‘Daughter, go to the house and lock yourself in, while I speak to these dogs, and you, Christian, look for your salad and leave, and may Allah bring you safely to your home.’

I bowed, and he went to find the Turks, leaving me alone with Zoraida, who began to give indications of following her father’s instructions. But as soon as he was hidden by the trees of the garden, she turned to me, her eyes full of tears, and said:

‘
Ámexi,
Christian,
ámexi?’
Which means ‘Are you leaving, Christian, are you leaving?’

I replied:

‘Yes, Señora, but not, under any circumstances, without you; wait for me on
Jumá,
and do not be alarmed when you see us, for there is no doubt that we will go to Christian lands.’

I said this in such a way that she understood very well all the words that had passed between us, and putting her arm around my neck, she began to walk toward the house with faltering steps; as luck would have it, for things could have gone very badly if heaven had not willed otherwise, as we were walking in this fashion, she with her arm around my neck, her father, who had returned from chasing away the Turks, saw us, and we saw that he had seen us; Zoraida, who was intelligent and clever, did not remove her arm but clung even closer and placed her head on my chest, letting her knees go limp and giving clear signs and indications that she was in a swoon, while I, for my part, acted as if I were holding her up against my will. Her father came running over to us, saw his daughter in that condition, and asked her what was wrong; when she did not answer, her father said:

‘No doubt her alarm at those dogs coming in here has made her faint.’

And taking her from me, he leaned her head against his chest; she heaved a sigh, and with her eyes still wet with tears, repeated:

‘
Ámexi,
Christian,
ámexi
’—‘Leave, Christian, leave.’

To which her father replied:

‘It does not matter, daughter, if the Christian leaves: he has done you no harm, and the Turks have gone. Do not be afraid, nothing can harm you, I asked the Turks to go and they left the way they came in.’

‘Señor, they frightened her, as you have said,’ I told her father, ‘but since she says I should leave, I do not wish to cause her any distress; peace be with you, and with your permission, I shall return here for greens as they are needed, because according to my master, no estate has better salad greens than this one.’

‘Come back as often as you like,’ responded Agi Morato. ‘My daughter did not say what she did because you or any other Christian troubled her; she became confused, and instead of saying that the Turks should leave she said you should go, or perhaps she thought it was time for you to gather your greens.’

This was when I took my leave of them both; looking as if her heart would break, she went off with her father, while I, pretending to pick salad greens, walked all around the estate, looking carefully at the entrances and exits, and at the house’s fortifications, and thinking how all of it could be used to further our scheme. Having done this, I returned to the renegade and my companions and told them everything that had happened, saying that I longed for the moment when I could enjoy without fear the great happiness that fortune had granted me in the person of the lovely and beautiful Zoraida.

Time passed, and finally the day and hour we longed for arrived, and by following the plan and procedure that, after careful consideration and long discussion, we had all agreed upon, we had the good fortune we wished for; on the Friday following the day on which I spoke to Zoraida on the estate, our renegade anchored the boat at nightfall across from the place where the fair Zoraida was staying. The Christians who would row had already been alerted and were hiding in various spots throughout the surrounding area. They were all impatient and excited as they waited for me, and longed to storm the boat that lay before their eyes, for they knew nothing of the renegade’s arrangement and thought they would have to win their freedom by force of arms, killing the Moors on board.

As soon as I and my companions showed ourselves, all the other Christians came out of hiding. By now the city gates had been closed, and not a soul was to be seen in the surrounding countryside. Since we were all together, we wondered what we should do first: go for Zoraida or subdue the Moorish oarsmen. As we were discussing this, our renegade approached and asked why we were waiting: the time had come, his Moors were not on their guard, and most were asleep. We told him why we were hesitating, and he said the most important thing was to take
over the ship, which could be done very easily and with absolutely no danger, and then we could go for Zoraida. Everything he said seemed to be good advice, and so, without further delay, and with him as our guide, we reached the boat; he boarded it first, held up his scimitar, and said in Moorish: ‘None of you move unless you want to lose your life.’ By this time almost all the Christians had come on board. The Moors, who were not very courageous, were frightened when they heard their captain speak in that manner, and none of them reached for weapons, for they had very few, if any at all; without a word they allowed the Christians to tie their hands, which they did very quickly, threatening the Moors that if they raised any kind of alarm or called out in any way, they would all be put to the sword.

When this was done, half our men remained on guard, the renegade again acted as our guide, and we went to the estate of Agi Morato; it was our good fortune that when we opened the gate, it opened as easily as if it had never been locked, and so, very quietly and very silently, we approached the house without being detected by anyone. The beautiful Zoraida was waiting for us at a window, and as soon as she heard people moving about, she asked in a quiet voice if we were
Nizarini,
which was the same as asking if we were Christians. I replied that we were and that she should come down. When she recognized my voice she did not hesitate for an instant; without a word she came down, opened the door, and allowed everyone to see her, so beautifully and richly dressed that I am incapable of describing her. As soon as I saw her, I grasped her hand and began to kiss it, and the renegade and my two comrades did the same; the others, who knew nothing of the matter, did what they saw us doing, which seemed to be nothing more than thanking her for our freedom and recognizing her as our lady and mistress. The renegade asked in the Moorish tongue if her father was in the house. She replied that he was and that he was sleeping.

‘Then we will have to wake him,’ responded the renegade, ‘and take him with us, along with everything of value on this beautiful estate.’

‘No,’ she said, ‘my father is not to be touched in any way; in this house there is nothing of value except what I am carrying, and that is so valuable it will make you all rich and happy; just wait a moment and you will see.’

At this, she went back into the house, saying that she would return very soon, and we should be quiet and not make any noise. I asked the renegade what had passed between them, and when he told me, I said
that nothing was to be done except what Zoraida wished; then she returned, holding a chest filled with so many gold
escudos
that she could barely carry it. As bad luck would have it, her father awoke and heard the noise outside; he looked out the window, and seeing that all the men there were Christians, he began to shout in an extremely loud voice, crying out in Arabic: “Christians! Christians! Thieves! Thieves!” These shouts caused us all the greatest confusion and fear. Seeing the danger in which we all were and knowing how important it was to complete our business before anyone heard him, the renegade, together with some of our men, hurried up to where Agi Morato was standing, but I did not dare abandon Zoraida, who had fainted into my arms.

In brief, those who ran upstairs had such good luck that in a moment they came down again with Agi Morato, his hands tied and a handkerchief covering his mouth, which did not allow him to say a word; still, they threatened him that if he made a sound, it would cost him his life. When his daughter saw him she covered her eyes so that she would not see him, and her father was horrified, not realizing how willingly she had placed herself in our hands. But just then we had more need of our feet, and cautiously and quickly we boarded the ship; those who had remained on board were waiting in fear that some evil had befallen us. Barely two hours of the evening had passed, and we were all in the boat; Zoraida’s father’s hands were unbound and the cloth removed from his mouth, and the renegade told him again that if he said a word, he would be killed. But when he saw his daughter there, he began to sigh most piteously, especially when he saw that I held her in a close embrace and that she did not struggle, or protest, or shy away, but remained calm; even so he was silent, fearful the renegade’s many threats might be carried out.

When Zoraida came on board and saw that we were ready to put our oars into the water, and that her father and the rest of the Moors were prisoners, she told the renegade to tell me to be so kind as to release those Moors and free her father, because she would throw herself into the ocean rather than see with her own eyes the father who had loved her taken prisoner on her account. The renegade told me what she said, and I responded that I was happy to comply, but he said it was not a good idea; if we left the Moors behind, they would summon the people and alert the city, and they would come after us in fast-moving corvettes and cut us off on land and on sea so that we could not escape; what we could do was set them free in the first Christian land we reached. We all agreed
to this, and Zoraida, too, was satisfied when she was told the reasons why we did not wish to comply immediately with her request; then, in contented silence and with joyous effort, our valiant oarsmen picked up their oars and, commending ourselves with all our hearts to God, we began to row toward the islands of Mallorca, the closest Christian land. But because the north wind began to blow and the sea became somewhat rough, it was not possible to stay on course for Mallorca, and we had to follow the coast toward Oran, very fearful that we would be discovered at Sargel, which is about sixty miles along the coast from Algiers. By the same token, we were afraid of running across one of the galleys that ordinarily carry merchandise from Tetuán along that route, though all of us, together and separately, assumed that if we encountered a merchant galley, as long as it was not one of those that make raids, we not only would not be defeated but would capture a ship in which we could finish our voyage more safely.