Chapter 1: What is the story of Doña Josefa Ramirez y Marmolejo about?
This week on Myths and Legends, it's a story from early modern Spain, where we'll see how singing can be hazardous to your health, and that if you're having a hard time making big life decisions, you might just need to get attacked by bandits. Or pirates. The creature this time is the Sheep Squatch of West Virginia, and it is exactly what it sounds like.
This is Myths and Legends, episode 433, Dania of the Dead. This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore. Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins. Others are stories that might be new to you, but are definitely worth a listen. Today's story comes to us from Spain, and likely the 1600s.
It's a story set in a time obsessed with honor and standing in society. Spain was an empire in decline at this point, and the western Mediterranean was beset with pirates. We'll jump into the story in Valencia, Spain, with a prestigious family and a young woman with a very old problem. So your mother and I have been thinking, you're like 16. It's time for you to marry. And we know just the man.
Doña's father clasped his hands together with a smile. Doña had been waiting for this conversation. Her whole life, there had only been one. One boy she had been able to stand. One man she loved. She and her parents spoke at the same time. Don Pedro de Valenzuela. Anyone but Don Pedro de Valenzuela. Donya's mother and father looked at each other. Oh, okay.
This was exactly what they had been afraid of. Uh, yeah, okay, you know what? They touched their shoulders. This was on them. It was a classic situation of a girl falling in love with a boy she knew really well and who reciprocated her love and respect. They let them play together as kids, and even though Don Pedro's family was a noble one...
He wasn't as, well, rich, is the wrong word to say, but an accurate one to think, and also to use as a basis for rejecting him to marry their little girl. I'll never love anyone but him, Doña said. You don't know that, honey. You're still young. Yes, you think you love that attractive young man who would do anything for you, but who knows?
The rich, well-connected, noble guy in his 60s who's looking for his third wife might spark even deeper feelings. The dad grimaced. Doña fumed and left the room before she made it even worse. Okay, good talk. We'll table this. Put a pin in this marriage business.
But they were glad they could all agree that whatever rich, well-connected noble she wedded, it wouldn't be Don Pedro because he wasn't rich or well-connected. The father called out after her. The mother rolled her eyes when she heard the door slam. That went great. Just fantastic job.
The End
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Chapter 2: What challenges does Doña face in her quest for justice?
They stole what time they could in the hedges and in the rooms where her governess or maids or her family's chamberlain weren't around. But soon, everything changed. The notion of inevitability gave way to carelessness. Dunya didn't know whether it was a thoughtless mention or an enterprising maid, but soon, what was merely whispered between bemused staff was spoken aloud to her parents.
They didn't know about the visits, about how the two young people had plans, and that they would be together even if it was forbidden. His voice drifted softly on the night air that night, and she smiled. She knew that, no matter what, they had each other. Doña rose toward the end of the song, and her bare feet found the path over to the window.
Even just seeing his face would set everything right. Drawing the curtain back, her heart was at ease when he warmed at the recognition of her eyes, sparkling there in the moonlight. Doña, my love, Pedro called out in a whisper. Then he grew serious. Donya? Up at the window, Donya saw something that Pedro didn't. Two figures, cloaked, with masks drawn up to their eyes, materialized behind him.
Pedro, she yelled, but it was too late. One man's hand found Pedro's mouth. A dagger flashed in the moonlight. Droplets scattered on the ground before the torrent as the man plunged the knife again and again into Pedro's stomach. Doña screamed as Pedro dropped, the brigand leaving the knife in the heart. They went through his coat as Doña spun.
By the time she made it downstairs and across the garden, the cloaks had long since melded back into the shadows, and Pedro lay alone, his breathing relaxed at the sight of her face. Doña's tears mingled with the blood on the edges of his mouth as it curled into its final smile. The manhunt was underway, Doña's father tried to tell her, to comfort her.
To her eyes, though, he could hardly hide his elation that the problem of the previous day had been dispatched in the night by what seemed to be two common thieves. Manhunt was a strong word.
It was obligatory that the governor would demand justice for this family of lesser nobility, but Pedro's remaining relation, an elderly uncle, didn't have the power or sway necessary to compel any posse to confront the two armed assailants or the cash on hand to reward them if they did. Pedro's line was over.
and his house would be devoured by one of the others, a sad tale underlining the necessity of knowing your place in this world. Dunya was inconsolable for one hour. Her parents had found her in the garden and raised the alarm, sending word of the murder to the authorities. Afterward, Dunya told her parents she would go to her room, and they agreed that that was best.
She did go to her room, but not straight there. She went to the cellar, to her father's old chests, from his soldier days. Well, his officer days. Men of his station weren't in the press of fighters, dodging lances poking through shields or bullets raining from a smoky hilltop. Instead, he sat on a horse and yelled orders to the men who yelled orders to the men on the ground.
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Chapter 3: How does Doña's relationship with Don Pedro influence her actions?
The grass was a dot on a line of infinite numbers. It drank the blood of countless young men who had come before and who would follow after. To the world, Don Pedro was nothing special. He would be forgotten, but not for Doña. No matter what, she would not forget. To the world, he had been nothing, but to her, everything. The mountain pass beckoned from the road before her.
Even though Doña Josefa Ramirez didn't think of her parents as necessarily shrewd, the need to be crafty was like hunger. They were both things her parents had not experienced in a long time. They weren't fools. Beyond the docks, there was one way out of town, and she would need to make it to the city Murcia before she could walk openly.
The logic that took her south would draw her parents as well. Like a mouse, she stayed away from the thoroughfares of the pass, creeping along the plants, traveling at night, and freezing when she heard footsteps or shouts. Wide plains beyond the foothills, dotted with the gatherings of plants, signaled a mixture of relief and danger.
There was no place to hide, and the scattered farms would notice someone sleeping in a bush or padding through the fields at night. The city of Mercia sitting on the horizon, Dunya heard hooves behind her, and she had to quell her instinct. Cavaliers don't flee.
A nod from her father's chamberlain to the young man walking the road between, presumably, adventures or lovers or both, let Dunya know that she was safe in this lie.
Mercia was grand and lively, and for days she walked the streets, lodging in an inn that was nice but not too nice, and avoiding any places that might draw her father, uncles, or any other person who would know her before they saw her face. Besides... Men like the ones she was hunting wouldn't be in the house of the mayor or any of the nobles.
So Donya sat, night after night, playing cards and listening. Always listening. Yes, they are gone, I am sure of it. And some hours ago, it was not likely that they should remain in the country. No doubt it is as you say. A voice half whispered from the next table over. One night, nearly a week after she walked into town,
Donya threw down the cards, selling her exit with a pile of coins on a hand full of nothing, and excused herself. Excuse me, Donya took a seat without waiting for the men to invite her, and set down her bet. I think you are speaking of some friends of mine from Seville. I am of Seville and of Valencia. The man eyed Donya and stepped into the trap.
And they are not friends, he chuckled, and the table with him. "'Oh, I have some relations among the noble families of Valencia, "'and, well, if your not friends were anything like them, "'the men were probably laughing with ease "'of how their doleful story loosed your purse strings,' Dunya smirked. "'The man straightened in his seat as his hands stopped mid-deal.
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Chapter 4: What is the significance of Doña's transformation throughout the story?
In the two young nobles' own words, Don Leonardo and Don Gaspar Contreras had been traveling from giving gold to sad, orphaned children to giving more money for sadder, more orphaned children when they saw Don Pedro, noble in name if not in holdings, singing up to Doña, the great beauty, someone so beneath her that even the sight of it was insulting.
They called out a challenge, he foolishly answered, and he died. But as he did so, he cried out murder, plunging a dagger into his own chest and waking the countryside. Now the men were working their horses to a lather, riding for the coast. Dunya dropped her glove and made a point of going to look for it.
while the old men bickered over whether a coin was sitting close enough to be added to the pile and understood as a bet or not. She was her love that had killed him. Doña steeled herself. I know my cousin's family, Doña said. surprised by how steady her voice was. Did they honestly believe what that man said? They didn't. Everyone, it seemed, knew about Doña and Pedro.
The sight of her living her life raised the hackles of the young nobles, who were insistent that if Doña didn't go to some old man on the coast, she would go to one of them. When they saw her smiling at this nobody, this nothing, this Don Pedro, they couldn't take it. If a duel took place, it wasn't a fair one.
And now it looked like when they fled Valencia, they took Doña with them, because she disappeared that same day. Doña lingered to order enough drinks for the table, and lose enough that people were sad to see the person they thought to be a young man leave. with Dunya laughing that she would be back tomorrow if she could afford it.
Shaking with fury, she wanted to collapse in an alley and weep, to sink into a hole and be alone with the pain she knew couldn't possibly abate. She might have time, someday, to do that, but for now, she had to buy a horse and ride for the coast. A ship would take them from there to anywhere else in the world in three days' time, and they would be gone forever. At first light,
Doña rode for Cartagena. She made it by nightfall. We'll see what Doña finds in the city. That will be right after this. There are too many cryptids that mess with sleep. There are stories of the Boo Hag, who sucks your morning breath and also your energy from your nose while you sleep. There's the Alp, a little hairy dude that sits on your chest and causes discomfort and bad dreams.
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Chapter 5: How does Doña confront the murderers of Pedro?
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That's BetterHelp.com slash myths. Sometimes you have to comb the city and listen to five different card games at once for a scrap of information. Sometimes you sit down by an open window after riding for hours straight, and the plans of the assassins waft up to you like perfume. Or more accurately, the smell of two men who had been sitting in the sun all day, chatting.
Doña could hardly believe it was the latter when, exhausted, she sat by the window waiting for the innkeeper to bring her dinner. There were two men outside, talking about the banquet Don Juan Mancilla was putting on for two men from Valencia, who were on the run for a duel gone wrong or something. Sitting back, Doña could hardly believe her luck. That was a freebie, seriously.
Don Juan Mencia's mansion stood overlooking the city, so it was not difficult to find. Entry was impossible, but it didn't matter. Getting into the party was not the objective. She was only interested in what was coming out of it. Before she left her home, Doña went to Pedro's body, wrapped downstairs. Her love didn't even have someone standing watch.
Having no time, she sliced a bit of hair from his head, and it remained with her. Now, here in a poplar grove that stretched up to the manor, Doña sat with it, almost in prayer, as if it was a holy relic. In many ways, it was. A relic of the life she had lost. When the two men, Don Gaspar Contreras and Leonardo, emerged, laughing on the path down to the docks, she stood in front of them.
Don Leonardo, and you, Don Gaspar Contreras, she called out. a hood and cloak on a path in front of them. Do you know who I am? Gaspar Contreras shoulder checked her, but Don Leonardo was more polite. Another time, friend. We are pressed and have to join our ship. He waved her off. Do you know who I am? Doña called out. The men ignored her and kept walking.
Doña's throaty, mock male voice gave way to the tones of the young woman, whose beauty had spread across the country. Do you know who I am? What does this little nothing mean by shouting at us in the street in the middle of the night? Don Leonardo's patience was a facade that crumbled at the first annoyance.
This nothing calls for you to answer with your vile lives for the noble one of Don Pedro Valenzuela. You did not duel him. You slew him in treachery. My sword is the sword of justice. I will give you the chance to defend yourselves. One that you never gave him. Doña drew her sword. We don't know who you are or what you're talking about.
Don Gaspar Contreras put a hand on Leonardo's sword arm, as the man had already drawn. You were so in love with me. You murdered a man. Yet you can't even recognize my voice? Doña sighed. I am Doña Josefa Ramirez y Marmolejo. "'Don't you?' Leonardo said, his voice breaking into a laugh. Studying her face in the moonlight, it was her. Striding over, he bit his lip and looked her up and down.
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Chapter 6: What themes of vengeance and justice are explored in the episode?
She shouldn't expect her womanhood to be a shield, though, not in this. Donya thrust her rapier in his chest. Blood bloomed on both sides of his coat. I don't, Donya said. Leonardo was dead in seconds. Donya let him slide from her sword. Don Gaspar Contreras rushed to catch Leonardo's body, but it thudded on the stones. Your turn. Draw, Donya demanded. You killed my cousin. I will destroy you.
Gaspar Contreras' hand trembled as he drew his sword. You already did, Doña said, completely without emotion. Sidestepping his wild slash, Doña drove her sword into his abdomen. It wasn't as clean or as quick as the first one. His screams ricocheted across the poplars. and the manor walls until the gurgles of blood stopped them. He died in agony.
Donya sheathed their sword and looked down at the men. They were both dead in the middle of the path. Shouts came up from the party on the hill, having heard the guests of honor screaming as they died in the street, staring at the corpses. Trying to take it all in, Doña didn't feel like Pedro had been avenged. The boy she loved was still gone, and he would be gone forever.
No matter what she did, Doña stood rooted, trying to feel anything as the city closed in on her. A few dozen empty pews separated Doña from the men arguing at the altar. The church was warm, and Doña felt like she could lay down and sleep there. Sleep forever. She had avenged Pedro, and the cruel joke was that not only did nothing matter now, but apparently, nothing had ever mattered.
His love, his death, her vengeance. She was still here, alone. You're lucky to be here, the old man breathed. He's going to let you stay in the sanctuary. The old man had gotten to her first, as she stood over the bodies of the assassins. Fixated on her cloak, her father's cloak, he pulled her away and through a labyrinth valleys until they arrived at a church.
I didn't ask for your help or his, Doña said. staring forward. Then don't wear the crest. We won't let one of our own go to trial. Some things are bigger than you, the man said. She looked down. Some coat of arms her father had worn. Part of some order. They weren't helping her. They didn't care about Pedro or justice. They were just protecting themselves. There's an infirmary upstairs.
You can't sleep here. The old man called out at her as she fell asleep there. When the authorities couldn't get Doña without upsetting one of the region's most powerful orders, the narrative around what happened shifted.
As more news filtered south, Don's Leonardo and Gaspar Contreras were less victims but assassins in their own right, and the stranger who killed them had challenged them to a legal duel. as was his right, and both men died with swords in their hands.
Doña emerged from the church a week later, to a street that had moved on, past the dons, past her, past Pedro, concerned about making its own way in the world. She found her horse, still stabled where she left him, and she began the ride home.
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Chapter 7: How does Doña navigate her identity after avenging Pedro?
Money and weapons. Horse, too. We'll let you walk down. Hesitate, and we'll still take your things, but you'll take the faster way down. The man looked over the edge. Try anything and we'll make sure you live long enough to regret it. There are more of us in the path ahead. The man, sword drawn and flanked by two others just like him, said as he stepped from the curve in the path ahead.
It wasn't that she had just bested men with triple the training of these bandits in a duel. It wasn't that if she took her hat off they might recognize her real gender and things would be infinitely worse. It wasn't that she wanted to preserve her father's weapons and armor. and go home. It was that Danya just didn't care.
With her hands up, Danya said she was going to draw her sword and set it down. She slid it from her scabbard. No. He'll take it. The bandit motioned to the man inching up the path behind her.
yeah he will dunya said flipping the sword in her hand and stabbing backward with all of her strength the smothered gasp of the sword piercing his lungs and hopefully more puffed behind her but dunya's victory was short-lived Stuck in the brigand, the handle of her sword jerked beyond her grasp.
Worse, she half-spun in the saddle, just in time to see him topple over the edge of the cliff, taking her sword with him. "'Get the horse's bridle,' she heard the lead man spit, as the two in front of him, who just saw their friend die in two terrible ways, hesitated for a moment. Donya knew that there was a reason she kept the blunderbuss loaded and strung across her back."
If the two had moved, they might have saved the third. But while they caught the blow in the chest, they were dominoes that toppled themselves and their leader over the edge of the cliff. As quickly as they had appeared, Donya was alone. Hands shaking, she thought about it. She had been lucky, incredibly lucky. She was now without a sword, and these guns took like 20 minutes to reload.
Even if the bandits had been lying about their compatriots down the path, someone would have likely heard the shot. And she had just killed four people, though heartbroken. and lost. She wasn't going to go headlong into a bandit camp, and she wouldn't last long in a prison, stripped of her cloaks and clothes.
As she rode back toward the previous town, though, she thought about what she was doing. Why? Why was she going home anyway? Pedro wasn't there. In fact, going home would remind her of him at every turn. And an old man in the capital was waiting to marry her, And her parents would let her mourn, sure. But soon, life would return to normal for everyone. Everyone except her.
At the next opportunity, she turned from the path that she was on and went north, to Barcelona. From there, she would find out if there was really more to life than anguish and death. And the place to begin her search would be on a boat to Rome.
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Chapter 8: What are the final revelations about Doña's journey and choices?
The barrel of the pistol sent a chill down her back. before she managed to withstand the light. Hey, Pedro, her captain chimed. What is going on? Dunya managed to blink, but no more. The captain explained that he had a good news, bad news situation here. Bad news? They had been boarded by pirates and would now be sold into slavery. Whoops.
A shout in a language Dunya didn't understand silenced the captain. But the captain said he was getting to it, please. Opening her eyes fully, Dunya saw the half dozen men in her crew standing frozen by swords and guns. Since you're the only one who knows the manifest, they're going to take you with them to barter. We will be sold, the captain said.
No, I don't know that... Dunya started, but her captain cut her off. You are a very intelligent, very modest young person, he said with a knowing nod. Dunya stood rooted. Oh, yes, he sighed. They would all be searched and sold. But he told the pirates that the only way to get an exact accounting for everything on the ship was Pedro. Pedro could and would help them, right?
Doña allowed herself a nod. Good, the captain sighed. Pedro shouldn't worry about them. Nothing they hadn't been through before. Well, except for the guys who very clearly peed their pants just now. They'd live, though. How did Pedro think he knew the language? Also, I told him that you were smart, so you're going to want to learn the language, too. Like, really fast.
The captain told Dunya, while the pirate looped ropes around his wrists. Whatever you're running from, you're about to get a lot farther than you ever thought you would. We'll see what Donya finds in this strange new world, but that will, once again, be right after this. So I have apps for budgeting. That's not a lie. I have them, but I don't always look at them. I did recently though.
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