The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (22 page)

BOOK: The Manuscript Found in Saragossa
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THE STORY OF GIULIO ROMATI AND
   THE PRINCIPESSA DI MONTE SALERNO   

My name is Giulio Romati. My father, Pietro Romati, is the most famous lawyer in Palermo and indeed in all Sicily. As you might imagine, he is very attached to a profession which provides him with a respectable living, but he is even more attached to philosophy, to which he devotes all the time he can steal from his legal affairs.

I can say without undue boasting that I have followed in his footsteps in both his careers, for I was a doctor of law at the age of twenty-two and, having since applied myself to mathematics and astronomy, I have advanced so far as to be able to write commentaries on Copernicus and Galileo. I am not telling you this to vaunt myself, but because I am about to relate to you a most amazing adventure and do not want to be taken for a gullible or superstitious person. Indeed, I am so far from superstition and credulity that theology is perhaps the only branch of knowledge that I have consistently neglected. As for the rest, I devoted myself to them with untiring enthusiasm, since the only recreation I found congenial was in turning from one branch of knowledge to another. So much study affected my health and my father, who could not think of any distraction which would suit me, suggested that I should make a tour of Europe and only return to Sicily after four years' absence.

At first it was very hard for me to leave my books, my study and my observatory. But my father insisted and I had to obey him. I had no sooner begun my journey than I took a turn for the better. I recovered my appetite, my energies – in a word, my health. At first I had travelled in a litter but from the third day I rode a mule and was none the worse for it.

Many people know the whole world except for their own country. I had decided that my own country would not be able to reproach me with similar failings, so I began my journey by visiting the marvels which nature had so lavishly bestowed on our island. Instead of following the coast of Palermo to Messina, I went by Castro Novo, Caltanisetta and reached the foot of Etna at a village whose name I have forgotten. There I made preparations for the trip up the mountain, to which I intended to devote a month. And indeed that is how long I spent, principally attempting to confirm the number of experiments which had recently been done on barometers. At night I observed the heavens and had the great pleasure of sighting two stars which were not visible from the observatory in Palermo because they were below the horizon.

It was with genuine regret that I left that place in which I almost felt as though I could share the ethereal light and sublime harmony of the heavenly bodies whose laws I had studied so deeply. Besides, it is
a fact that the rarefied air of high mountains acts on our bodies in a very special way, quickening our pulses and our breathing. Eventually I left the mountain and I came down it on the side of Catania.

Catania is inhabited by gentry as famous as that of Palermo but more enlightened. Not that the mathematical sciences have more adherents in Catania than elsewhere on our island, but a great deal of attention was paid to the arts, to antiquities, to ancient and modern history and to the history of all the peoples who have inhabited Sicily. The excavations and the artefacts found in them were a universal subject of conversation.

At that time, as it happens, a very beautiful marble tablet, covered with strange writing, had just been recovered from deep under the earth. Having looked at it closely, I realized that the inscription was in Carthaginian and, knowing Hebrew quite well, I was able to decipher it to the satisfaction of all concerned. This success won me a flattering welcome. The most distinguished persons in town tried to keep me there with attractive financial offers, but I had left my family with other purposes in mind so I refused them and took the road to Messina. I stayed in this city, which is famous for its commercial activity, for one whole week, after which I crossed the straits and landed at Reggio.

Up to then the journey had been no more than a pleasant trip, but at Reggio the undertaking became more difficult. A bandit called Zoto was at that time laying waste to Calabria and the sea was infested by Tripolitan pirates. I had absolutely no idea how to get to Naples and I would have returned to Palermo, if a sense of shame had not prevented me from doing so.

I had already spent a week in Reggio, full of uncertainty as to what to do, when one day, having walked up and down the port for some time, I sat down on some rocks on the least frequented part of the beach.

There I was accosted by a handsome-looking man wearing a red cloak. He sat down by me without greeting me and then spoke to me as follows: ‘Is Signor Romati busy with some algebraic problem or some question of astronomy?'

‘Not at all,' I replied. ‘All that Signor Romati would like to do is to travel from Reggio to Naples, and the problem that is bothering
him at the moment is how to escape the clutches of Signor Zoto's band.'

Then the stranger looked very solemn and said, ‘Signor Romati, your talents already do honour to your country, and you will bring it yet more honour after the journeys that you are undertaking have extended the range of your knowledge. Zoto is too much of a gentleman to wish to hinder you in so noble a venture. Take these red feathers and put one in your hat, give the others to your servants and then boldly set out, for I am that Zoto whom you so much fear, and so that you can have no doubt on this score I am going to show you the instruments of my profession.'

At this, he opened his cloak and showed me a belt bristling with pistols and daggers. Then he shook my hand and vanished.

At this point I interrupted the gypsy chief and told him that I had heard of Zoto and had made the acquaintance of his two brothers.

‘I know them too,' said Pandesowna. ‘Like me, they are in the service of the Great Sheikh of the Gomelez.'

‘What? You too are in his service?' I cried in great astonishment.

At that moment a gypsy came up and whispered in the chief's ear. He at once rose and left me to reflect on what I had just learned.

What, I wondered, is this powerful conspiracy which seems to have no other purpose than to hide some secret or other from me or to dazzle my eyes with magic, parts of which I think I can guess, only to be thrown shortly after into confusion by new happenings? It is obvious that I myself form part of this invisible plot and it is clear that others are trying to keep me here with ever closer bonds.

My thoughts were interrupted by the chief's two daughters, who came to suggest that we went for a walk together. I accepted and followed them. The conversation was in correct Spanish, unadulterated by
jerigonza
or gypsy language. Their minds were cultivated and they were of a cheerful and open temperament. After the stroll we took supper and then went to bed.

But that night, no cousins.

The Thirteenth Day

The gypsy chief had me brought an ample breakfast and then said, ‘Señor caballero, the enemy – that is to say, the customs officers – are closing in. It is only right to abandon the battlefield to them. There, they will find the bales intended for them; the rest is already safely hidden away. Take your time over breakfast, then we shall leave.'

As the customs men could already be seen on the other side of the valley, I ate hastily while the majority of the band went on ahead. We made our way from one mountain to the next, going deeper and deeper into the wilderness of the Sierra Morena. At last we stopped in a deep valley where some of the band were already waiting for us and had prepared our meal. After we had eaten I asked the chief to continue the story of his life, which he did as follows:

   THE GYPSY CHIEF'S STORY CONTINUED   

You left me listening attentively to the remarkable tale of Giulio Romati. This, more or less, is how he went on:

   GIULIO ROMATI'S STORY CONTINUED   

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