Once this fierce enemy had been forced to flee, some boyars commanded me, in the name of the czar, to report to the Emperor and tell him how the Tartars had been defeated. I therefore turned back and, with about a hundred riders following me, rode through the city to the czar’s palace and was greeted by all the people with triumph and grateful rejoicing. However, as soon as I had reported the course of the battle (despite the fact that the czar had already been informed of all the details) I had to take off my princely costume, which was returned to the czar’s wardrobe, even though it and the harness were so smeared and spattered with blood they were almost ruined. I had assumed it and the horse at least would be presented to me in recognition of my gallant conduct during the encounter. From that incident I could deduce where the colonel’s magnificent Russian clothes came from: they were all borrowed goods which, like everything else in the whole of Russia, belonged to the czar alone.
As long as my wound was healing, I was looked after right royally. Although my injury was neither life-threatening nor even dangerous, I went everywhere in a dressing gown of cloth of gold lined with sable and I have never in my whole life eaten so well. But that was all the reward I had for my labours, apart from the praise the czar lavished on me, which was spoilt for me by the envy of certain boyars.
When I was completely recovered, I was sent on a ship down the Volga to Astrakhan to set up a powder mill as it was impossible to keep the border fortresses there supplied with fresh powder because of the dangers of the long river journey. I was happy to do this because I had been promised that when it was done the czar would send me back to Holland with a sum of money commensurate with both my services and his imperial munificence. But alas, it is when we are most sure of our hopes and plans that a storm suddenly comes and in a twinkling blows all the foolish designs, on which we have been working for so long, to the four winds.
The governor of Astrakhan treated me as if I were the czar himself and I very quickly had everything running smoothly. The powder he had in store was rotten and mildewed and no good at all, so I reprocessed it, like a tinker using the tin from an old spoon to cast a new one. This had never been seen in Russia before and because of it, and other skills I had, some thought I was a sorcerer, others some new saint or prophet and yet others a second Empedocles or Gorgias of Leontini.
However, one night when I was hard at work in one of the powder mills outside the fortress, I was was captured along with some others by a band of Tartars and carried off so deep into their territory that I not only saw borametz, the legendary sheep-shaped melon, growing, I ate it. My captors exchanged me for some Chinese goods with the Niu-chi Tartars and they presented me as a special gift to the King of Korea, with whom they had just made a truce. There I was held in respect because there was no one could match me with the cutlass and because I taught the king how to hit the bull’s-eye with his musket over his shoulder and his back to the target. Consequently he granted my humble request to give me my freedom and sent me via Japan to the Portuguese in Macao. They ignored me, and I wandered round their city like a sheep that has lost its herd until, as if by a miracle, I was captured by some Turkish pirates and sold by them, after they had carted me round with them for what must have been a whole year among various strange peoples that live in the East Indies, to some merchants of Alexandria in Egypt. They took me with their wares to Constantinople, and as the Turkish emperor happened to be fitting out several galleys to fight the Venetians and there was a shortage of rowers, many Turkish merchants had to hand over their Christian slaves, though they were paid for them. Being young and strong, I was one of them and had to learn to row, but that hard labour lasted no more than two months, for our galley was taken by the Venetians in the Levant and I and my companions were freed from Turkish bondage. When our galley reached Venice, with rich booty and some noble Turkish prisoners, I was released, since I wanted to make a pilgrimage to Rome and Loreto in order to see those places and thank God for my deliverance. I had no problems getting a passport and a number of decent people, notably some Germans, helped me with money, so that I set off on my journey in a long pilgrim’s coat.
I took the shortest road to Rome, which city agreed with me very well because everybody, both great and small, was generous with alms. I spent about six weeks in that city before making my way to Loreto with other pilgrims, including some Germans and, in particular, some Swiss who were heading for home. From there I crossed the St. Gotthard, then headed back through Switzerland to the Black Forest and my Da, who had looked after my farm, bringing nothing special home with me apart from a beard which I had grown in foreign parts.
I had been away for three years and several months. During that time I had crossed various seas and seen all manner of peoples, who in general had done me more harm than good, to write about which would fill a large book. While I had been away peace had been concluded in Germany so that I could live safely and undisturbed with my Da. I left him to look after the house and farm and took up my books again, which were both my work and my delight.
I read once what the oracle at Delphi told the Roman envoys when they asked what they must do so that their subjects would accept their rule peacefully:
nosce teipsum,
meaning each man should know himself. This, given that I had plenty of leisure, made me think back and draw up a balance sheet of my life. I told myself, ‘Your life has not been a life, but a death. Your days have been a dark shadow, your years a dark dream, your pleasures dark sins, your youth an illusion and your well-being an alchemist’s treasure which will fly away up the chimney before you know it. You followed the wars through many dangers and met with great fortune and misfortune: now up, now down; now great, now small; now rich, now poor; now happy, now sad; now loved, now hated; now honoured, now despised. But, my poor soul, what have you got from the whole journey? This: I am poor in worldly goods, my heart is weighed down with cares, I am too lazy, slothful and corrupted to do good and, what is worst of all, my conscience is timid and heavy laden while you, my soul, are covered in sins and hideously defiled! My body is weary, my mind confused, my innocence gone, the best days of my youth spent, precious time wasted, nothing gives me pleasure and, to crown it all, I loathe myself.
When I went out into the world after my father’s death I was simple and pure, upright and honest, truthful, humble, unassuming, moderate, chaste, bashful, pious and God-fearing, but I quickly became malicious, false, deceitful, arrogant, restless and, above all, completely ungodly, and all without needing anyone to teach me. I was careful of my honour not for its own sake, but in order to rise in the world. I observed the hour, not to employ it for my soul’s salvation but for my body’s satisfaction. I have often put my life in danger, but have never made an effort to amend it so that I could die in peace and sure of heaven. I always had an eye to the present and my immediate advantage, never thinking of the future, much less that a time will come when I will see God face to face and have to account for myself.’ I was tormenting myself daily with thoughts like these when I came across the writings of Antonio de Guevara which I found so powerful in turning me away from the world that I must set down an extract from them here:
‘Farewell, world, there is no trust nor hope in you. In your abode the past has already disappeared, the present is slipping away from us and the future will never be; what is most steadfast will fall, what is strongest will break, what is most lasting will come to an end, for you are more dead than the dead and in a hundred years do not let us live for one single hour.
Farewell, world, for you take us prisoner and do not set us free again, you bind us and do not unshackle us; you sadden and do not make glad, you take away and do not give back, you accuse us without due cause, you condemn us without hearing our plea, consequently you kill us without a verdict and bury us without our dying. None of your joys is without sorrow, no peace without discord, no love without suspicion, no rest without fear, no abundance without want, no honour without blemish, no property without a bad conscience, no rank without complaint, no friendship without malice.
Farewell, world, for in your palace promises are made without the willingness to give, service goes unpaid, caresses are used to kill, people are raised up to be cast down, help is a means of harming, honour a way of bringing disgrace, borrowing is without intention to return, punishment is without forgiveness.
God be with you, world, for in your abode the great and their minions are toppled, the unworthy preferred, traitors regarded with favour, the faithful overlooked, the evil left in freedom and the innocent condemned. The wise and experienced are dismissed, the inept well rewarded, the devious are believed, the upright and honest doubted, everyone does what they want, no one what they ought.
Farewell, world, for in you no one is called by his true name: the reckless are called bold, the timid cautious, the impatient enterprising, the lethargic peaceable; a wastrel is called liberal, a miser careful, a malicious gossip eloquent, a quiet person a fool or a dreamer; an adulterer and seducer of young girls is called a beau, a mud-slinger a courtier, a vengeful person eager, a meek one a dreamer. All in all, you present the useless as useful and the useful as useless.
Farewell, world, for you seduce everyone. You promise the ambitious honours, the restless change, the arrogant their prince’s favour, the lazy a post, the miser much wealth, the greedy and lascivious joy and pleasure, enemies revenge, thieves secrecy, the young a long life and minions favour from their rulers.
Farewell, world, for in your palace there is room for neither truth nor loyalty. Anyone who talks to you is put to shame, anyone who trusts you is betrayed, anyone who follows you is led astray, those who fear you are treated worst of all, those who love you are ill rewarded, those who rely on you most are most disappointed. It is no use giving you presents, doing you favours, singing your praises, keeping faith with you, offering you friendship, still you deceive, ruin, disgrace, besmirch, threaten, consume and forget everyone. In consequence everyone weeps, sighs, moans, complains and declines, and everyone passes away. With you people see and learn nothing but hatred which turns into murder, speech which turns into lying, love which turns into despair, deeds which turn into theft, requests which turn into deception, sin which leads to death.
God be with you, world, for while we are with you, time is consumed in oblivion: our youth with running, rushing, leaping from pillar to post, along highways and byways, up hill and down dale, through wood and wilderness, over land and sea, in rain and snow, in heat and cold, in wind and weather; our manhood is consumed with mining and smelting ore, quarrying and cutting stone, sawing and chopping, digging and planting, with imagining and aspiring, with devising, ordering, worrying and bemoaning, with buying and selling, squabbling, wrangling, fighting, deceiving and being deceived; our old age is consumed in anguish and misery, our minds begin to go, our breath turns sour, our faces wrinkled, our bodies crooked, our eyes weak, our limbs tremble, our noses run, our heads go bald, our ears grow deaf, we can smell nothing, taste nothing, we sigh and groan, are weak and feeble and have, in short, nothing but toil and trouble until we die.
Farewell, world, there is no piety in you, every day murderers are executed, traitors quartered, thieves, robbers and bandits hung, killers beheaded, sorcerers burnt, perjurers punished and rebels exiled.
God be with you, world, for those who serve you have no other pastime, be it work or play, than idling, annoying and maligning others, courting young girls, running after beautiful women and flirting with them, gambling with dice and cards, dealing with pimps, feuding with the neighbours, recounting gossip, thinking up new lies, lending at exorbitant interest, devising new fashions, working out new ruses and introducing new vices.
Farewell, world, for no one is content or satisfied with you: if they are poor, they want to get money, if they are rich, they want to be looked up to, if they are despised they want to rise in the world, if they have been insulted, they want to avenge themselves, if they are in favour, they want to have power, if they are given to vice, they just want to enjoy themselves.
Farewell, world, for in you nothing lasts: tall towers are struck by lightning, mills swept away by flood, wood is eaten up by worms, corn by mice, fruit by caterpillars, clothes by moths, cattle suffer from old age, humans from illness: one has the mange, another cancer, the third lupus, the fourth the pox, the fifth gout, the sixth rheumatism, the seventh dropsy, the eighth gallstones, the ninth kidney stones, the tenth consumption, the eleventh fever, the twelfth leprosy, the thirteenth epilepsy and the fourteenth folly! And no one does what the other does: if one is crying, then the other is laughing, if one is sighing, the other is happy; one fasts while the other feasts, one gorges while the other starves, one rides while the other walks, one talks while the other is silent, one plays while the other works, and whenever one is born, another dies. Likewise no one lives in the same way as the other: one rules, the other serves, one governs people, the other herds swine, one follows the court, the other the plough, one journeys across the sea, the other travels round the country to the fairs and markets, one works at the soil the other at the fire, one catches fish in the water, the other birds in the air, one works hard, the other robs and steals.