Don Quixote 1.52

CHAPTER LII

WHEREIN IS RELATED THE ADVENTURE OF THE SECOND DISTRESSED OR
AFFLICTED DUENNA, OTHERWISE CALLED DONA RODRIGUEZ

Cide Hamete relates that Don Quixote being now cured of his
scratches felt that the life he was leading in the castle was entirely
inconsistent with the order of chivalry he professed, so he determined
to ask the duke and duchess to permit him to take his departure for
Saragossa, as the time of the festival was now drawing near, and he
hoped to win there the suit of armour which is the prize at
festivals of the sort. But one day at table with the duke and duchess,
just as he was about to carry his resolution into effect and ask for
their permission, lo and behold suddenly there came in through the
door of the great hall two women, as they afterwards proved to be,
draped in mourning from head to foot, one of whom approaching Don
Quixote flung herself at full length at his feet, pressing her lips to
them, and uttering moans so sad, so deep, and so doleful that she
put all who heard and saw her into a state of perplexity; and though
the duke and duchess supposed it must be some joke their servants were
playing off upon Don Quixote, still the earnest way the woman sighed
and moaned and wept puzzled them and made them feel uncertain, until
Don Quixote, touched with compassion, raised her up and made her
unveil herself and remove the mantle from her tearful face. She
complied and disclosed what no one could have ever anticipated, for
she disclosed the countenance of Dona Rodriguez, the duenna of the
house; the other female in mourning being her daughter, who had been
made a fool of by the rich farmer's son. All who knew her were
filled with astonishment, and the duke and duchess more than any;
for though they thought her a simpleton and a weak creature, they
did not think her capable of crazy pranks. Dona Rodriguez, at
length, turning to her master and mistress said to them, "Will your
excellences be pleased to permit me to speak to this gentleman for a
moment, for it is requisite I should do so in order to get
successfully out of the business in which the boldness of an
evil-minded clown has involved me?"

The duke said that for his part he gave her leave, and that she
might speak with Senor Don Quixote as much as she liked.

She then, turning to Don Quixote and addressing herself to him said,
"Some days since, valiant knight, I gave you an account of the
injustice and treachery of a wicked farmer to my dearly beloved
daughter, the unhappy damsel here before you, and you promised me to
take her part and right the wrong that has been done her; but now it
has come to my hearing that you are about to depart from this castle
in quest of such fair adventures as God may vouchsafe to you;
therefore, before you take the road, I would that you challenge this
froward rustic, and compel him to marry my daughter in fulfillment
of the promise he gave her to become her husband before he seduced
her; for to expect that my lord the duke will do me justice is to
ask pears from the elm tree, for the reason I stated privately to your
worship; and so may our Lord grant you good health and forsake us
not."

To these words Don Quixote replied very gravely and solemnly,
"Worthy duenna, check your tears, or rather dry them, and spare your
sighs, for I take it upon myself to obtain redress for your
daughter, for whom it would have been better not to have been so ready
to believe lovers' promises, which are for the most part quickly
made and very slowly performed; and so, with my lord the duke's leave,
I will at once go in quest of this inhuman youth, and will find him
out and challenge him and slay him, if so be he refuses to keep his
promised word; for the chief object of my profession is to spare the
humble and chastise the proud; I mean, to help the distressed and
destroy the oppressors."

"There is no necessity," said the duke, "for your worship to take
the trouble of seeking out the rustic of whom this worthy duenna
complains, nor is there any necessity, either, for asking my leave
to challenge him; for I admit him duly challenged, and will take
care that he is informed of the challenge, and accepts it, and comes
to answer it in person to this castle of mine, where I shall afford to
both a fair field, observing all the conditions which are usually
and properly observed in such trials, and observing too justice to
both sides, as all princes who offer a free field to combatants within
the limits of their lordships are bound to do."

"Then with that assurance and your highness's good leave," said
Don Quixote, "I hereby for this once waive my privilege of gentle
blood, and come down and put myself on a level with the lowly birth of
the wrong-doer, making myself equal with him and enabling him to enter
into combat with me; and so, I challenge and defy him, though
absent, on the plea of his malfeasance in breaking faith with this
poor damsel, who was a maiden and now by his misdeed is none; and
say that he shall fulfill the promise he gave her to become her lawful
husband, or else stake his life upon the question."

And then plucking off a glove he threw it down in the middle of
the hall, and the duke picked it up, saying, as he had said before,
that he accepted the challenge in the name of his vassal, and fixed
six days thence as the time, the courtyard of the castle as the place,
and for arms the customary ones of knights, lance and shield and
full armour, with all the other accessories, without trickery,
guile, or charms of any sort, and examined and passed by the judges of
the field. "But first of all," he said, "it is requisite that this
worthy duenna and unworthy damsel should place their claim for justice
in the hands of Don Quixote; for otherwise nothing can be done, nor
can the said challenge be brought to a lawful issue."

"I do so place it," replied the duenna.

"And I too," added her daughter, all in tears and covered with shame
and confusion.

This declaration having been made, and the duke having settled in
his own mind what he would do in the matter, the ladies in black
withdrew, and the duchess gave orders that for the future they were
not to be treated as servants of hers, but as lady adventurers who
came to her house to demand justice; so they gave them a room to
themselves and waited on them as they would on strangers, to the
consternation of the other women-servants, who did not know where
the folly and imprudence of Dona Rodriguez and her unlucky daughter
would stop.

And now, to complete the enjoyment of the feast and bring the dinner
to a satisfactory end, lo and behold the page who had carried the
letters and presents to Teresa Panza, the wife of the governor Sancho,
entered the hall; and the duke and duchess were very well pleased to
see him, being anxious to know the result of his journey; but when
they asked him the page said in reply that he could not give it before
so many people or in a few words, and begged their excellences to be
pleased to let it wait for a private opportunity, and in the
meantime amuse themselves with these letters; and taking out the
letters he placed them in the duchess's hand. One bore by way of
address, Letter for my lady the Duchess So-and-so, of I don't know
where; and the other To my husband Sancho Panza, governor of the
island of Barataria, whom God prosper longer than me. The duchess's
bread would not bake, as the saying is, until she had read her letter;
and having looked over it herself and seen that it might be read aloud
for the duke and all present to hear, she read out as follows.


TERESA PANZA'S LETTER TO THE DUCHESS.

The letter your highness wrote me, my lady, gave me great
pleasure, for indeed I found it very welcome. The string of coral
beads is very fine, and my husband's hunting suit does not fall
short of it. All this village is very much pleased that your
ladyship has made a governor of my good man Sancho; though nobody will
believe it, particularly the curate, and Master Nicholas the barber,
and the bachelor Samson Carrasco; but I don't care for that, for so
long as it is true, as it is, they may all say what they like; though,
to tell the truth, if the coral beads and the suit had not come I
would not have believed it either; for in this village everybody
thinks my husband a numskull, and except for governing a flock of
goats, they cannot fancy what sort of government he can be fit for.
God grant it, and direct him according as he sees his children stand
in need of it. I am resolved with your worship's leave, lady of my
soul, to make the most of this fair day, and go to Court to stretch
myself at ease in a coach, and make all those I have envying me
already burst their eyes out; so I beg your excellence to order my
husband to send me a small trifle of money, and to let it be something
to speak of, because one's expenses are heavy at the Court; for a loaf
costs a real, and meat thirty maravedis a pound, which is beyond
everything; and if he does not want me to go let him tell me in
time, for my feet are on the fidgets to he off; and my friends and
neighbours tell me that if my daughter and I make a figure and a brave
show at Court, my husband will come to be known far more by me than
I by him, for of course plenty of people will ask, "Who are those
ladies in that coach?" and some servant of mine will answer, "The wife
and daughter of Sancho Panza, governor of the island of Barataria;"
and in this way Sancho will become known, and I'll be thought well of,
and "to Rome for everything." I am as vexed as vexed can be that
they have gathered no acorns this year in our village; for all that
I send your highness about half a peck that I went to the wood to
gather and pick out one by one myself, and I could find no bigger
ones; I wish they were as big as ostrich eggs.

Let not your high mightiness forget to write to me; and I will
take care to answer, and let you know how I am, and whatever news
there may be in this place, where I remain, praying our Lord to have
your highness in his keeping and not to forget me.

Sancha my daughter, and my son, kiss your worship's hands.

She who would rather see your ladyship than write to you,

Your servant,
TERESA PANZA.



All were greatly amused by Teresa Panza's letter, but particularly
the duke and duchess; and the duchess asked Don Quixote's opinion
whether they might open the letter that had come for the governor,
which she suspected must be very good. Don Quixote said that to
gratify them he would open it, and did so, and found that it ran as
follows.


TERESA PANZA'S LETTER TO HER HUSBAND SANCHO PANZA.

I got thy letter, Sancho of my soul, and I promise thee and swear as
a Catholic Christian that I was within two fingers' breadth of going
mad I was so happy. I can tell thee, brother, when I came to hear that
thou wert a governor I thought I should have dropped dead with pure
joy; and thou knowest they say sudden joy kills as well as great
sorrow; and as for Sanchica thy daughter, she leaked from sheer
happiness. I had before me the suit thou didst send me, and the
coral beads my lady the duchess sent me round my neck, and the letters
in my hands, and there was the bearer of them standing by, and in
spite of all this I verily believed and thought that what I saw and
handled was all a dream; for who could have thought that a goatherd
would come to be a governor of islands? Thou knowest, my friend,
what my mother used to say, that one must live long to see much; I say
it because I expect to see more if I live longer; for I don't expect
to stop until I see thee a farmer of taxes or a collector of
revenue, which are offices where, though the devil carries off those
who make a bad use of them, still they make and handle money. My
lady the duchess will tell thee the desire I have to go to the
Court; consider the matter and let me know thy pleasure; I will try to
do honour to thee by going in a coach.

Neither the curate, nor the barber, nor the bachelor, nor even the
sacristan, can believe that thou art a governor, and they say the
whole thing is a delusion or an enchantment affair, like everything
belonging to thy master Don Quixote; and Samson says he must go in
search of thee and drive the government out of thy head and the
madness out of Don Quixote's skull; I only laugh, and look at my
string of beads, and plan out the dress I am going to make for our
daughter out of thy suit. I sent some acorns to my lady the duchess; I
wish they had been gold. Send me some strings of pearls if they are in
fashion in that island. Here is the news of the village; La Berrueca
has married her daughter to a good-for-nothing painter, who came
here to paint anything that might turn up. The council gave him an
order to paint his Majesty's arms over the door of the town-hall; he
asked two ducats, which they paid him in advance; he worked for
eight days, and at the end of them had nothing painted, and then
said he had no turn for painting such trifling things; he returned the
money, and for all that has married on the pretence of being a good
workman; to be sure he has now laid aside his paint-brush and taken
a spade in hand, and goes to the field like a gentleman. Pedro
Lobo's son has received the first orders and tonsure, with the
intention of becoming a priest. Minguilla, Mingo Silvato's
granddaughter, found it out, and has gone to law with him on the score
of having given her promise of marriage. Evil tongues say she is
with child by him, but he denies it stoutly. There are no olives
this year, and there is not a drop of vinegar to be had in the whole
village. A company of soldiers passed through here; when they left
they took away with them three of the girls of the village; I will not
tell thee who they are; perhaps they will come back, and they will
be sure to find those who will take them for wives with all their
blemishes, good or bad. Sanchica is making bonelace; she earns eight
maravedis a day clear, which she puts into a moneybox as a help
towards house furnishing; but now that she is a governor's daughter
thou wilt give her a portion without her working for it. The
fountain in the plaza has run dry. A flash of lightning struck the
gibbet, and I wish they all lit there. I look for an answer to this,
and to know thy mind about my going to the Court; and so, God keep
thee longer than me, or as long, for I would not leave thee in this
world without me.

Thy wife,
TERESA PANZA.


The letters were applauded, laughed over, relished, and admired; and
then, as if to put the seal to the business, the courier arrived,
bringing the one Sancho sent to Don Quixote, and this, too, was read
out, and it raised some doubts as to the governor's simplicity. The
duchess withdrew to hear from the page about his adventures in
Sancho's village, which he narrated at full length without leaving a
single circumstance unmentioned. He gave her the acorns, and also a
cheese which Teresa had given him as being particularly good and
superior to those of Tronchon. The duchess received it with greatest
delight, in which we will leave her, to describe the end of the
government of the great Sancho Panza, flower and mirror of all
governors of islands.

Don Quixote 1.51

CHAPTER XLI

OF THE ARRIVAL OF CLAVILENO AND THE END OF THIS PROTRACTED ADVENTURE

And now night came, and with it the appointed time for the arrival
of the famous horse Clavileno, the non-appearance of which was already
beginning to make Don Quixote uneasy, for it struck him that, as
Malambruno was so long about sending it, either he himself was not the
knight for whom the adventure was reserved, or else Malambruno did not
dare to meet him in single combat. But lo! suddenly there came into
the garden four wild-men all clad in green ivy bearing on their
shoulders a great wooden horse. They placed it on its feet on the
ground, and one of the wild-men said, "Let the knight who has heart
for it mount this machine."

Here Sancho exclaimed, "I don't mount, for neither have I the
heart nor am I a knight."

"And let the squire, if he has one," continued the wild-man, "take
his seat on the croup, and let him trust the valiant Malambruno; for
by no sword save his, nor by the malice of any other, shall he be
assailed. It is but to turn this peg the horse has in his neck, and he
will bear them through the air to where Malambruno awaits them; but
lest the vast elevation of their course should make them giddy,
their eyes must be covered until the horse neighs, which will be the
sign of their having completed their journey."

With these words, leaving Clavileno behind them, they retired with
easy dignity the way they came. As soon as the Distressed One saw
the horse, almost in tears she exclaimed to Don Quixote, "Valiant
knight, the promise of Malambruno has proved trustworthy; the horse
has come, our beards are growing, and by every hair in them all of
us implore thee to shave and shear us, as it is only mounting him with
thy squire and making a happy beginning with your new journey."

"That I will, Senora Countess Trifaldi," said Don Quixote, "most
gladly and with right goodwill, without stopping to take a cushion
or put on my spurs, so as not to lose time, such is my desire to see
you and all these duennas shaved clean."

"That I won't," said Sancho, "with good-will or bad-will, or any way
at all; and if this shaving can't be done without my mounting on the
croup, my master had better look out for another squire to go with
him, and these ladies for some other way of making their faces smooth;
I'm no witch to have a taste for travelling through the air. What
would my islanders say when they heard their governor was going,
strolling about on the winds? And another thing, as it is three
thousand and odd leagues from this to Kandy, if the horse tires, or
the giant takes huff, we'll he half a dozen years getting back, and
there won't be isle or island in the world that will know me: and
so, as it is a common saying 'in delay there's danger,' and 'when they
offer thee a heifer run with a halter,' these ladies' beards must
excuse me; 'Saint Peter is very well in Rome;' I mean I am very well
in this house where so much is made of me, and I hope for such a
good thing from the master as to see myself a governor."

"Friend Sancho," said the duke at this, "the island that I have
promised you is not a moving one, or one that will run away; it has
roots so deeply buried in the bowels of the earth that it will be no
easy matter to pluck it up or shift it from where it is; you know as
well as I do that there is no sort of office of any importance that is
not obtained by a bribe of some kind, great or small; well then,
that which I look to receive for this government is that you go with
your master Don Quixote, and bring this memorable adventure to a
conclusion; and whether you return on Clavileno as quickly as his
speed seems to promise, or adverse fortune brings you back on foot
travelling as a pilgrim from hostel to hostel and from inn to inn, you
will always find your island on your return where you left it, and
your islanders with the same eagerness they have always had to receive
you as their governor, and my good-will will remain the same; doubt
not the truth of this, Senor Sancho, for that would be grievously
wronging my disposition to serve you."

"Say no more, senor," said Sancho; "I am a poor squire and not equal
to carrying so much courtesy; let my master mount; bandage my eyes and
commit me to God's care, and tell me if I may commend myself to our
Lord or call upon the angels to protect me when we go towering up
there."

To this the Trifaldi made answer, "Sancho, you may freely commend
yourself to God or whom you will; for Malambruno though an enchanter
is a Christian, and works his enchantments with great
circumspection, taking very good care not to fall out with anyone."

"Well then," said Sancho, "God and the most holy Trinity of Gaeta
give me help!"

"Since the memorable adventure of the fulling mills," said Don
Quixote, "I have never seen Sancho in such a fright as now; were I
as superstitious as others his abject fear would cause me some
little trepidation of spirit. But come here, Sancho, for with the
leave of these gentles I would say a word or two to thee in
private;" and drawing Sancho aside among the trees of the garden and
seizing both his hands he said, "Thou seest, brother Sancho, the
long journey we have before us, and God knows when we shall return, or
what leisure or opportunities this business will allow us; I wish thee
therefore to retire now to thy chamber, as though thou wert going to
fetch something required for the road, and in a trice give thyself
if it be only five hundred lashes on account of the three thousand
three hundred to which thou art bound; it will be all to the good, and
to make a beginning with a thing is to have it half finished."

"By God," said Sancho, "but your worship must be out of your senses!
This is like the common saying, 'You see me with child, and you want
me a virgin.' Just as I'm about to go sitting on a bare board, your
worship would have me score my backside! Indeed, your worship is not
reasonable. Let us be off to shave these duennas; and on our return
I promise on my word to make such haste to wipe off all that's due
as will satisfy your worship; I can't say more."

"Well, I will comfort myself with that promise, my good Sancho,"
replied Don Quixote, "and I believe thou wilt keep it; for indeed
though stupid thou art veracious."

"I'm not voracious," said Sancho, "only peckish; but even if I was a
little, still I'd keep my word."

With this they went back to mount Clavileno, and as they were
about to do so Don Quixote said, "Cover thine eyes, Sancho, and mount;
for one who sends for us from lands so far distant cannot mean to
deceive us for the sake of the paltry glory to be derived from
deceiving persons who trust in him; though all should turn out the
contrary of what I hope, no malice will be able to dim the glory of
having undertaken this exploit."

"Let us be off, senor," said Sancho, "for I have taken the beards
and tears of these ladies deeply to heart, and I shan't eat a bit to
relish it until I have seen them restored to their former
smoothness. Mount, your worship, and blindfold yourself, for if I am
to go on the croup, it is plain the rider in the saddle must mount
first."

"That is true," said Don Quixote, and, taking a handkerchief out
of his pocket, he begged the Distressed One to bandage his eyes very
carefully; but after having them bandaged he uncovered them again,
saying, "If my memory does not deceive me, I have read in Virgil of
the Palladium of Troy, a wooden horse the Greeks offered to the
goddess Pallas, which was big with armed knights, who were
afterwards the destruction of Troy; so it would he as well to see,
first of all, what Clavileno has in his stomach."

"There is no occasion," said the Distressed One; "I will be bail for
him, and I know that Malambruno has nothing tricky or treacherous
about him; you may mount without any fear, Senor Don Quixote; on my
head be it if any harm befalls you."

Don Quixote thought that to say anything further with regard to
his safety would be putting his courage in an unfavourable light;
and so, without more words, he mounted Clavileno, and tried the peg,
which turned easily; and as he had no stirrups and his legs hung down,
he looked like nothing so much as a figure in some Roman triumph
painted or embroidered on a Flemish tapestry.

Much against the grain, and very slowly, Sancho proceeded to
mount, and, after settling himself as well as he could on the croup,
found it rather hard, and not at all soft, and asked the duke if it
would be possible to oblige him with a pad of some kind, or a cushion;
even if it were off the couch of his lady the duchess, or the bed of
one of the pages; as the haunches of that horse were more like
marble than wood. On this the Trifaldi observed that Clavileno would
not bear any kind of harness or trappings, and that his best plan
would be to sit sideways like a woman, as in that way he would not
feel the hardness so much.

Sancho did so, and, bidding them farewell, allowed his eyes to he
bandaged, but immediately afterwards uncovered them again, and looking
tenderly and tearfully on those in the garden, bade them help him in
his present strait with plenty of Paternosters and Ave Marias, that
God might provide some one to say as many for them, whenever they
found themselves in a similar emergency.

At this Don Quixote exclaimed, "Art thou on the gallows, thief, or
at thy last moment, to use pitiful entreaties of that sort?
Cowardly, spiritless creature, art thou not in the very place the fair
Magalona occupied, and from which she descended, not into the grave,
but to become Queen of France; unless the histories lie? And I who
am here beside thee, may I not put myself on a par with the valiant
Pierres, who pressed this very spot that I now press? Cover thine
eyes, cover thine eyes, abject animal, and let not thy fear escape thy
lips, at least in my presence."

"Blindfold me," said Sancho; "as you won't let me commend myself
or be commended to God, is it any wonder if I am afraid there is a
region of devils about here that will carry us off to Peralvillo?"

They were then blindfolded, and Don Quixote, finding himself settled
to his satisfaction, felt for the peg, and the instant he placed his
fingers on it, all the duennas and all who stood by lifted up their
voices exclaiming, "God guide thee, valiant knight! God be with
thee, intrepid squire! Now, now ye go cleaving the air more swiftly
than an arrow! Now ye begin to amaze and astonish all who are gazing
at you from the earth! Take care not to wobble about, valiant
Sancho! Mind thou fall not, for thy fall will be worse than that
rash youth's who tried to steer the chariot of his father the Sun!"

As Sancho heard the voices, clinging tightly to his master and
winding his arms round him, he said, "Senor, how do they make out we
are going up so high, if their voices reach us here and they seem to
be speaking quite close to us?"

"Don't mind that, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for as affairs of this
sort, and flights like this are out of the common course of things,
you can see and hear as much as you like a thousand leagues off; but
don't squeeze me so tight or thou wilt upset me; and really I know not
what thou hast to be uneasy or frightened at, for I can safely swear I
never mounted a smoother-going steed all the days of my life; one
would fancy we never stirred from one place. Banish fear, my friend,
for indeed everything is going as it ought, and we have the wind
astern."

"That's true," said Sancho, "for such a strong wind comes against me
on this side, that it seems as if people were blowing on me with a
thousand pair of bellows;" which was the case; they were puffing at
him with a great pair of bellows; for the whole adventure was so
well planned by the duke, the duchess, and their majordomo, that
nothing was omitted to make it perfectly successful.

Don Quixote now, feeling the blast, said, "Beyond a doubt, Sancho,
we must have already reached the second region of the air, where the
hail and snow are generated; the thunder, the lightning, and the
thunderbolts are engendered in the third region, and if we go on
ascending at this rate, we shall shortly plunge into the region of
fire, and I know not how to regulate this peg, so as not to mount up
where we shall be burned."

And now they began to warm their faces, from a distance, with tow
that could be easily set on fire and extinguished again, fixed on
the end of a cane. On feeling the heat Sancho said, "May I die if we
are not already in that fire place, or very near it, for a good part
of my beard has been singed, and I have a mind, senor, to uncover
and see whereabouts we are."

"Do nothing of the kind," said Don Quixote; "remember the true story
of the licentiate Torralva that the devils carried flying through
the air riding on a stick with his eyes shut; who in twelve hours
reached Rome and dismounted at Torre di Nona, which is a street of the
city, and saw the whole sack and storming and the death of Bourbon,
and was back in Madrid the next morning, where he gave an account of
all he had seen; and he said moreover that as he was going through the
air, the devil bade him open his eyes, and he did so, and saw
himself so near the body of the moon, so it seemed to him, that he
could have laid hold of it with his hand, and that he did not dare
to look at the earth lest he should be seized with giddiness. So that,
Sancho, it will not do for us to uncover ourselves, for he who has
us in charge will be responsible for us; and perhaps we are gaining an
altitude and mounting up to enable us to descend at one swoop on the
kingdom of Kandy, as the saker or falcon does on the heron, so as to
seize it however high it may soar; and though it seems to us not
half an hour since we left the garden, believe me we must have
travelled a great distance."

"I don't know how that may be," said Sancho; "all I know is that
if the Senora Magallanes or Magalona was satisfied with this croup,
she could not have been very tender of flesh."

The duke, the duchess, and all in the garden were listening to the
conversation of the two heroes, and were beyond measure amused by
it; and now, desirous of putting a finishing touch to this rare and
well-contrived adventure, they applied a light to Clavileno's tail
with some tow, and the horse, being full of squibs and crackers,
immediately blew up with a prodigious noise, and brought Don Quixote
and Sancho Panza to the ground half singed. By this time the bearded
band of duennas, the Trifaldi and all, had vanished from the garden,
and those that remained lay stretched on the ground as if in a
swoon. Don Quixote and Sancho got up rather shaken, and, looking about
them, were filled with amazement at finding themselves in the same
garden from which they had started, and seeing such a number of people
stretched on the ground; and their astonishment was increased when
at one side of the garden they perceived a tall lance planted in the
ground, and hanging from it by two cords of green silk a smooth
white parchment on which there was the following inscription in
large gold letters: "The illustrious knight Don Quixote of La Mancha
has, by merely attempting it, finished and concluded the adventure
of the Countess Trifaldi, otherwise called the Distressed Duenna;
Malambruno is now satisfied on every point, the chins of the duennas
are now smooth and clean, and King Don Clavijo and Queen Antonomasia
in their original form; and when the squirely flagellation shall
have been completed, the white dove shall find herself delivered
from the pestiferous gerfalcons that persecute her, and in the arms of
her beloved mate; for such is the decree of the sage Merlin,
arch-enchanter of enchanters."

As soon as Don Quixote had read the inscription on the parchment
he perceived clearly that it referred to the disenchantment of
Dulcinea, and returning hearty thanks to heaven that he had with so
little danger achieved so grand an exploit as to restore to their
former complexion the countenances of those venerable duennas, he
advanced towards the duke and duchess, who had not yet come to
themselves, and taking the duke by the hand he said, "Be of good
cheer, worthy sir, be of good cheer; it's nothing at all; the
adventure is now over and without any harm done, as the inscription
fixed on this post shows plainly."

The duke came to himself slowly and like one recovering
consciousness after a heavy sleep, and the duchess and all who had
fallen prostrate about the garden did the same, with such
demonstrations of wonder and amazement that they would have almost
persuaded one that what they pretended so adroitly in jest had
happened to them in reality. The duke read the placard with
half-shut eyes, and then ran to embrace Don Quixote with-open arms,
declaring him to be the best knight that had ever been seen in any
age. Sancho kept looking about for the Distressed One, to see what her
face was like without the beard, and if she was as fair as her elegant
person promised; but they told him that, the instant Clavileno
descended flaming through the air and came to the ground, the whole
band of duennas with the Trifaldi vanished, and that they were already
shaved and without a stump left.

The duchess asked Sancho how he had fared on that long journey, to
which Sancho replied, "I felt, senora, that we were flying through the
region of fire, as my master told me, and I wanted to uncover my
eyes for a bit; but my master, when I asked leave to uncover myself,
would not let me; but as I have a little bit of curiosity about me,
and a desire to know what is forbidden and kept from me, quietly and
without anyone seeing me I drew aside the handkerchief covering my
eyes ever so little, close to my nose, and from underneath looked
towards the earth, and it seemed to me that it was altogether no
bigger than a grain of mustard seed, and that the men walking on it
were little bigger than hazel nuts; so you may see how high we must
have got to then."

To this the duchess said, "Sancho, my friend, mind what you are
saying; it seems you could not have seen the earth, but only the men
walking on it; for if the earth looked to you like a grain of
mustard seed, and each man like a hazel nut, one man alone would
have covered the whole earth."

"That is true," said Sancho, "but for all that I got a glimpse of
a bit of one side of it, and saw it all."

"Take care, Sancho," said the duchess, "with a bit of one side one
does not see the whole of what one looks at."

"I don't understand that way of looking at things," said Sancho;
"I only know that your ladyship will do well to bear in mind that as
we were flying by enchantment so I might have seen the whole earth and
all the men by enchantment whatever way I looked; and if you won't
believe this, no more will you believe that, uncovering myself
nearly to the eyebrows, I saw myself so close to the sky that there
was not a palm and a half between me and it; and by everything that
I can swear by, senora, it is mighty great! And it so happened we came
by where the seven goats are, and by God and upon my soul, as in my
youth I was a goatherd in my own country, as soon as I saw them I felt
a longing to be among them for a little, and if I had not given way to
it I think I'd have burst. So I come and take, and what do I do?
without saying anything to anybody, not even to my master, softly
and quietly I got down from Clavileno and amused myself with the
goats- which are like violets, like flowers- for nigh three-quarters
of an hour; and Clavileno never stirred or moved from one spot."

"And while the good Sancho was amusing himself with the goats," said
the duke, "how did Senor Don Quixote amuse himself?"

To which Don Quixote replied, "As all these things and such like
occurrences are out of the ordinary course of nature, it is no
wonder that Sancho says what he does; for my own part I can only say
that I did not uncover my eyes either above or below, nor did I see
sky or earth or sea or shore. It is true I felt that I was passing
through the region of the air, and even that I touched that of fire;
but that we passed farther I cannot believe; for the region of fire
being between the heaven of the moon and the last region of the air,
we could not have reached that heaven where the seven goats Sancho
speaks of are without being burned; and as we were not burned,
either Sancho is lying or Sancho is dreaming."

"I am neither lying nor dreaming," said Sancho; "only ask me the
tokens of those same goats, and you'll see by that whether I'm telling
the truth or not."

"Tell us them then, Sancho," said the duchess.

"Two of them," said Sancho, "are green, two blood-red, two blue, and
one a mixture of all colours."

"An odd sort of goat, that," said the duke; "in this earthly
region of ours we have no such colours; I mean goats of such colours."

"That's very plain," said Sancho; "of course there must be a
difference between the goats of heaven and the goats of the earth."

"Tell me, Sancho," said the duke, "did you see any he-goat among
those goats?"

"No, senor," said Sancho; "but I have heard say that none ever
passed the horns of the moon."

They did not care to ask him anything more about his journey, for
they saw he was in the vein to go rambling all over the heavens giving
an account of everything that went on there, without having ever
stirred from the garden. Such, in short, was the end of the
adventure of the Distressed Duenna, which gave the duke and duchess
laughing matter not only for the time being, but for all their
lives, and Sancho something to talk about for ages, if he lived so
long; but Don Quixote, coming close to his ear, said to him,
"Sancho, as you would have us believe what you saw in heaven, I
require you to believe me as to what I saw in the cave of
Montesinos; I say no more."

Don Quixote 1.50

CHAPTER L

OF THE SHREWD CONTROVERSY WHICH DON QUIXOTE AND THE CANON HELD,
TOGETHER WITH OTHER INCIDENTS

"A good joke, that!" returned Don Quixote. "Books that have been
printed with the king's licence, and with the approbation of those
to whom they have been submitted, and read with universal delight, and
extolled by great and small, rich and poor, learned and ignorant,
gentle and simple, in a word by people of every sort, of whatever rank
or condition they may be- that these should be lies! And above all
when they carry such an appearance of truth with them; for they tell
us the father, mother, country, kindred, age, place, and the
achievements, step by step, and day by day, performed by such a knight
or knights! Hush, sir; utter not such blasphemy; trust me I am
advising you now to act as a sensible man should; only read them,
and you will see the pleasure you will derive from them. For, come,
tell me, can there be anything more delightful than to see, as it
were, here now displayed before us a vast lake of bubbling pitch
with a host of snakes and serpents and lizards, and ferocious and
terrible creatures of all sorts swimming about in it, while from the
middle of the lake there comes a plaintive voice saying: 'Knight,
whosoever thou art who beholdest this dread lake, if thou wouldst
win the prize that lies hidden beneath these dusky waves, prove the
valour of thy stout heart and cast thyself into the midst of its
dark burning waters, else thou shalt not be worthy to see the mighty
wonders contained in the seven castles of the seven Fays that lie
beneath this black expanse;' and then the knight, almost ere the awful
voice has ceased, without stopping to consider, without pausing to
reflect upon the danger to which he is exposing himself, without
even relieving himself of the weight of his massive armour, commending
himself to God and to his lady, plunges into the midst of the
boiling lake, and when he little looks for it, or knows what his
fate is to be, he finds himself among flowery meadows, with which
the Elysian fields are not to be compared. The sky seems more
transparent there, and the sun shines with a strange brilliancy, and a
delightful grove of green leafy trees presents itself to the eyes
and charms the sight with its verdure, while the ear is soothed by the
sweet untutored melody of the countless birds of gay plumage that flit
to and fro among the interlacing branches. Here he sees a brook
whose limpid waters, like liquid crystal, ripple over fine sands and
white pebbles that look like sifted gold and purest pearls. There he
perceives a cunningly wrought fountain of many-coloured jasper and
polished marble; here another of rustic fashion where the little
mussel-shells and the spiral white and yellow mansions of the snail
disposed in studious disorder, mingled with fragments of glittering
crystal and mock emeralds, make up a work of varied aspect, where art,
imitating nature, seems to have outdone it. Suddenly there is
presented to his sight a strong castle or gorgeous palace with walls
of massy gold, turrets of diamond and gates of jacinth; in short, so
marvellous is its structure that though the materials of which it is
built are nothing less than diamonds, carbuncles, rubies, pearls,
gold, and emeralds, the workmanship is still more rare. And after
having seen all this, what can be more charming than to see how a bevy
of damsels comes forth from the gate of the castle in gay and gorgeous
attire, such that, were I to set myself now to depict it as the
histories describe it to us, I should never have done; and then how
she who seems to be the first among them all takes the bold knight who
plunged into the boiling lake by the hand, and without addressing a
word to him leads him into the rich palace or castle, and strips him
as naked as when his mother bore him, and bathes him in lukewarm
water, and anoints him all over with sweet-smelling unguents, and
clothes him in a shirt of the softest sendal, all scented and
perfumed, while another damsel comes and throws over his shoulders a
mantle which is said to be worth at the very least a city, and even
more? How charming it is, then, when they tell us how, after all this,
they lead him to another chamber where he finds the tables set out
in such style that he is filled with amazement and wonder; to see
how they pour out water for his hands distilled from amber and
sweet-scented flowers; how they seat him on an ivory chair; to see how
the damsels wait on him all in profound silence; how they bring him
such a variety of dainties so temptingly prepared that the appetite is
at a loss which to select; to hear the music that resounds while he is
at table, by whom or whence produced he knows not. And then when the
repast is over and the tables removed, for the knight to recline in
the chair, picking his teeth perhaps as usual, and a damsel, much
lovelier than any of the others, to enter unexpectedly by the
chamber door, and herself by his side, and begin to tell him what
the castle is, and how she is held enchanted there, and other things
that amaze the knight and astonish the readers who are perusing his
history. But I will not expatiate any further upon this, as it may
be gathered from it that whatever part of whatever history of a
knight-errant one reads, it will fill the reader, whoever he be,
with delight and wonder; and take my advice, sir, and, as I said
before, read these books and you will see how they will banish any
melancholy you may feel and raise your spirits should they be
depressed. For myself I can say that since I have been a knight-errant
I have become valiant, polite, generous, well-bred, magnanimous,
courteous, dauntless, gentle, patient, and have learned to bear
hardships, imprisonments, and enchantments; and though it be such a
short time since I have seen myself shut up in a cage like a madman, I
hope by the might of my arm, if heaven aid me and fortune thwart me
not, to see myself king of some kingdom where I may be able to show
the gratitude and generosity that dwell in my heart; for by my
faith, senor, the poor man is incapacitated from showing the virtue of
generosity to anyone, though he may possess it in the highest
degree; and gratitude that consists of disposition only is a dead
thing, just as faith without works is dead. For this reason I should
be glad were fortune soon to offer me some opportunity of making
myself an emperor, so as to show my heart in doing good to my friends,
particularly to this poor Sancho Panza, my squire, who is the best
fellow in the world; and I would gladly give him a county I have
promised him this ever so long, only that I am afraid he has not the
capacity to govern his realm."

Sancho partly heard these last words of his master, and said to him,
"Strive hard you, Senor Don Quixote, to give me that county so often
promised by you and so long looked for by me, for I promise you
there will be no want of capacity in me to govern it; and even if
there is, I have heard say there are men in the world who farm
seigniories, paying so much a year, and they themselves taking
charge of the government, while the lord, with his legs stretched out,
enjoys the revenue they pay him, without troubling himself about
anything else. That's what I'll do, and not stand haggling over
trifles, but wash my hands at once of the whole business, and enjoy my
rents like a duke, and let things go their own way."

"That, brother Sancho," said the canon, "only holds good as far as
the enjoyment of the revenue goes; but the lord of the seigniory
must attend to the administration of justice, and here capacity and
sound judgment come in, and above all a firm determination to find out
the truth; for if this be wanting in the beginning, the middle and the
end will always go wrong; and God as commonly aids the honest
intentions of the simple as he frustrates the evil designs of the
crafty."

"I don't understand those philosophies," returned Sancho Panza; "all
I know is I would I had the county as soon as I shall know how to
govern it; for I have as much soul as another, and as much body as
anyone, and I shall be as much king of my realm as any other of his;
and being so I should do as I liked, and doing as I liked I should
please myself, and pleasing myself I should be content, and when one
is content he has nothing more to desire, and when one has nothing
more to desire there is an end of it; so let the county come, and
God he with you, and let us see one another, as one blind man said
to the other."

"That is not bad philosophy thou art talking, Sancho," said the
canon; "but for all that there is a good deal to be said on this
matter of counties."

To which Don Quixote returned, "I know not what more there is to
be said; I only guide myself by the example set me by the great Amadis
of Gaul, when he made his squire count of the Insula Firme; and so,
without any scruples of conscience, I can make a count of Sancho
Panza, for he is one of the best squires that ever knight-errant had."

The canon was astonished at the methodical nonsense (if nonsense
be capable of method) that Don Quixote uttered, at the way in which he
had described the adventure of the knight of the lake, at the
impression that the deliberate lies of the books he read had made upon
him, and lastly he marvelled at the simplicity of Sancho, who
desired so eagerly to obtain the county his master had promised him.

By this time the canon's servants, who had gone to the inn to
fetch the sumpter mule, had returned, and making a carpet and the
green grass of the meadow serve as a table, they seated themselves
in the shade of some trees and made their repast there, that the
carter might not be deprived of the advantage of the spot, as has been
already said. As they were eating they suddenly heard a loud noise and
the sound of a bell that seemed to come from among some brambles and
thick bushes that were close by, and the same instant they observed
a beautiful goat, spotted all over black, white, and brown, spring out
of the thicket with a goatherd after it, calling to it and uttering
the usual cries to make it stop or turn back to the fold. The fugitive
goat, scared and frightened, ran towards the company as if seeking
their protection and then stood still, and the goatherd coming up
seized it by the horns and began to talk to it as if it were possessed
of reason and understanding: "Ah wanderer, wanderer, Spotty, Spotty;
how have you gone limping all this time? What wolves have frightened
you, my daughter? Won't you tell me what is the matter, my beauty? But
what else can it be except that you are a she, and cannot keep
quiet? A plague on your humours and the humours of those you take
after! Come back, come back, my darling; and if you will not be so
happy, at any rate you will be safe in the fold or with your
companions; for if you who ought to keep and lead them, go wandering
astray, what will become of them?"

The goatherd's talk amused all who heard it, but especially the
canon, who said to him, "As you live, brother, take it easy, and be
not in such a hurry to drive this goat back to the fold; for, being
a female, as you say, she will follow her natural instinct in spite of
all you can do to prevent it. Take this morsel and drink a sup, and
that will soothe your irritation, and in the meantime the goat will
rest herself," and so saying, he handed him the loins of a cold rabbit
on a fork.

The goatherd took it with thanks, and drank and calmed himself,
and then said, "I should be sorry if your worships were to take me for
a simpleton for having spoken so seriously as I did to this animal;
but the truth is there is a certain mystery in the words I used. I
am a clown, but not so much of one but that I know how to behave to
men and to beasts."

"That I can well believe," said the curate, "for I know already by
experience that the woods breed men of learning, and shepherds'
harbour philosophers."

"At all events, senor," returned the goatherd, "they shelter men
of experience; and that you may see the truth of this and grasp it,
though I may seem to put myself forward without being asked, I will,
if it will not tire you, gentlemen, and you will give me your
attention for a little, tell you a true story which will confirm
this gentleman's word (and he pointed to the curate) as well as my
own."

To this Don Quixote replied, "Seeing that this affair has a
certain colour of chivalry about it, I for my part, brother, will hear
you most gladly, and so will all these gentlemen, from the high
intelligence they possess and their love of curious novelties that
interest, charm, and entertain the mind, as I feel quite sure your
story will do. So begin, friend, for we are all prepared to listen."

"I draw my stakes," said Sancho, "and will retreat with this pasty
to the brook there, where I mean to victual myself for three days; for
I have heard my lord, Don Quixote, say that a knight-errant's squire
should eat until he can hold no more, whenever he has the chance,
because it often happens them to get by accident into a wood so
thick that they cannot find a way out of it for six days; and if the
man is not well filled or his alforjas well stored, there he may stay,
as very often he does, turned into a dried mummy."

"Thou art in the right of it, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "go where
thou wilt and eat all thou canst, for I have had enough, and only want
to give my mind its refreshment, as I shall by listening to this
good fellow's story."

"It is what we shall all do," said the canon; and then begged the
goatherd to begin the promised tale.

The goatherd gave the goat which he held by the horns a couple of
slaps on the back, saying, "Lie down here beside me, Spotty, for we
have time enough to return to our fold." The goat seemed to understand
him, for as her master seated himself, she stretched herself quietly
beside him and looked up in his face to show him she was all attention
to what he was going to say, and then in these words he began his
story.

Don Quixote 1.49

CHAPTER XLIX

WHICH TREATS OF THE SHREWD CONVERSATION WHICH SANCHO PANZA HELD WITH
HIS MASTER DON QUIXOTE

"Aha, I have caught you," said Sancho; "this is what in my heart and
soul I was longing to know. Come now, senor, can you deny what is
commonly said around us, when a person is out of humour, 'I don't know
what ails so-and-so, that he neither eats, nor drinks, nor sleeps, nor
gives a proper answer to any question; one would think he was
enchanted'? From which it is to be gathered that those who do not eat,
or drink, or sleep, or do any of the natural acts I am speaking of-
that such persons are enchanted; but not those that have the desire
your worship has, and drink when drink is given them, and eat when
there is anything to eat, and answer every question that is asked
them."

"What thou sayest is true, Sancho," replied Don Quixote; "but I have
already told thee there are many sorts of enchantments, and it may
be that in the course of time they have been changed one for
another, and that now it may be the way with enchanted people to do
all that I do, though they did not do so before; so it is vain to
argue or draw inferences against the usage of the time. I know and
feel that I am enchanted, and that is enough to ease my conscience;
for it would weigh heavily on it if I thought that I was not
enchanted, and that in a aint-hearted and cowardly way I allowed
myself to lie in this cage, defrauding multitudes of the succour I
might afford to those in need and distress, who at this very moment
may be in sore want of my aid and protection."

"Still for all that," replied Sancho, "I say that, for your
greater and fuller satisfaction, it would be well if your worship were
to try to get out of this prison (and I promise to do all in my
power to help, and even to take you out of it), and see if you could
once more mount your good Rocinante, who seems to be enchanted too, he
is so melancholy and dejected; and then we might try our chance in
looking for adventures again; and if we have no luck there will be
time enough to go back to the cage; in which, on the faith of a good
and loyal squire, I promise to shut myself up along with your worship,
if so be you are so unfortunate, or I so stupid, as not to be able
to carry out my plan."

"I am content to do as thou sayest, brother Sancho," said Don
Quixote, "and when thou seest an opportunity for effecting my
release I will obey thee absolutely; but thou wilt see, Sancho, how
mistaken thou art in thy conception of my misfortune."

The knight-errant and the ill-errant squire kept up their
conversation till they reached the place where the curate, the
canon, and the barber, who had already dismounted, were waiting for
them. The carter at once unyoked the oxen and left them to roam at
large about the pleasant green spot, the freshness of which seemed
to invite, not enchanted people like Don Quixote, but wide-awake,
sensible folk like his squire, who begged the curate to allow his
master to leave the cage for a little; for if they did not let him
out, the prison might not be as clean as the propriety of such a
gentleman as his master required. The curate understood him, and
said he would very gladly comply with his request, only that he feared
his master, finding himself at liberty, would take to his old
courses and make off where nobody could ever find him again.

"I will answer for his not running away," said Sancho.

"And I also," said the canon, "especially if he gives me his word as
a knight not to leave us without our consent."

Don Quixote, who was listening to all this, said, "I give it;-
moreover one who is enchanted as I am cannot do as he likes with
himself; for he who had enchanted him could prevent his moving from
one place for three ages, and if he attempted to escape would bring
him back flying."- And that being so, they might as well release
him, particularly as it would be to the advantage of all; for, if they
did not let him out, he protested he would be unable to avoid
offending their nostrils unless they kept their distance.

The canon took his hand, tied together as they both were, and on his
word and promise they unbound him, and rejoiced beyond measure he
was to find himself out of the cage. The first thing he did was to
stretch himself all over, and then he went to where Rocinante was
standing and giving him a couple of slaps on the haunches said, "I
still trust in God and in his blessed mother, O flower and mirror of
steeds, that we shall soon see ourselves, both of us, as we wish to
be, thou with thy master on thy back, and I mounted upon thee,
following the calling for which God sent me into the world." And so
saying, accompanied by Sancho, he withdrew to a retired spot, from
which he came back much relieved and more eager than ever to put his
squire's scheme into execution.

The canon gazed at him, wondering at the extraordinary nature of his
madness, and that in all his remarks and replies he should show such
excellent sense, and only lose his stirrups, as has been already said,
when the subject of chivalry was broached. And so, moved by
compassion, he said to him, as they all sat on the green grass
awaiting the arrival of the provisions:

"Is it possible, gentle sir, that the nauseous and idle reading of
books of chivalry can have had such an effect on your worship as to
upset your reason so that you fancy yourself enchanted, and the
like, all as far from the truth as falsehood itself is? How can
there be any human understanding that can persuade itself there ever
was all that infinity of Amadises in the world, or all that
multitude of famous knights, all those emperors of Trebizond, all
those Felixmartes of Hircania, all those palfreys, and damsels-errant,
and serpents, and monsters, and giants, and marvellous adventures, and
enchantments of every kind, and battles, and prodigious encounters,
splendid costumes, love-sick princesses, squires made counts, droll
dwarfs, love letters, billings and cooings, swashbuckler women, and,
in a word, all that nonsense the books of chivalry contain? For
myself, I can only say that when I read them, so long as I do not stop
to think that they are all lies and frivolity, they give me a
certain amount of pleasure; but when I come to consider what they are,
I fling the very best of them at the wall, and would fling it into the
fire if there were one at hand, as richly deserving such punishment as
cheats and impostors out of the range of ordinary toleration, and as
founders of new sects and modes of life, and teachers that lead the
ignorant public to believe and accept as truth all the folly they
contain. And such is their audacity, they even dare to unsettle the
wits of gentlemen of birth and intelligence, as is shown plainly by
the way they have served your worship, when they have brought you to
such a pass that you have to be shut up in a cage and carried on an
ox-cart as one would carry a lion or a tiger from place to place to
make money by showing it. Come, Senor Don Quixote, have some
compassion for yourself, return to the bosom of common sense, and make
use of the liberal share of it that heaven has been pleased to
bestow upon you, employing your abundant gifts of mind in some other
reading that may serve to benefit your conscience and add to your
honour. And if, still led away by your natural bent, you desire to
read books of achievements and of chivalry, read the Book of Judges in
the Holy Scriptures, for there you will find grand reality, and
deeds as true as they are heroic. Lusitania had a Viriatus, Rome a
Caesar, Carthage a Hannibal, Greece an Alexander, Castile a Count
Fernan Gonzalez, Valencia a Cid, Andalusia a Gonzalo Fernandez,
Estremadura a Diego Garcia de Paredes, Jerez a Garci Perez de
Vargas, Toledo a Garcilaso, Seville a Don Manuel de Leon, to read of
whose valiant deeds will entertain and instruct the loftiest minds and
fill them with delight and wonder. Here, Senor Don Quixote, will be
reading worthy of your sound understanding; from which you will rise
learned in history, in love with virtue, strengthened in goodness,
improved in manners, brave without rashness, prudent without
cowardice; and all to the honour of God, your own advantage and the
glory of La Mancha, whence, I am informed, your worship derives your
birth."

Don Quixote listened with the greatest attention to the canon's
words, and when he found he had finished, after regarding him for some
time, he replied to him:

"It appears to me, gentle sir, that your worship's discourse is
intended to persuade me that there never were any knights-errant in
the world, and that all the books of chivalry are false, lying,
mischievous and useless to the State, and that I have done wrong in
reading them, and worse in believing them, and still worse in
imitating them, when I undertook to follow the arduous calling of
knight-errantry which they set forth; for you deny that there ever
were Amadises of Gaul or of Greece, or any other of the knights of
whom the books are full."

"It is all exactly as you state it," said the canon; to which Don
Quixote returned, "You also went on to say that books of this kind had
done me much harm, inasmuch as they had upset my senses, and shut me
up in a cage, and that it would be better for me to reform and
change my studies, and read other truer books which would afford
more pleasure and instruction."

"Just so," said the canon.

"Well then," returned Don Quixote, "to my mind it is you who are the
one that is out of his wits and enchanted, as you have ventured to
utter such blasphemies against a thing so universally acknowledged and
accepted as true that whoever denies it, as you do, deserves the
same punishment which you say you inflict on the books that irritate
you when you read them. For to try to persuade anybody that Amadis,
and all the other knights-adventurers with whom the books are
filled, never existed, would be like trying to persuade him that the
sun does not yield light, or ice cold, or earth nourishment. What
wit in the world can persuade another that the story of the Princess
Floripes and Guy of Burgundy is not true, or that of Fierabras and the
bridge of Mantible, which happened in the time of Charlemagne? For
by all that is good it is as true as that it is daylight now; and if
it be a lie, it must be a lie too that there was a Hector, or
Achilles, or Trojan war, or Twelve Peers of France, or Arthur of
England, who still lives changed into a raven, and is unceasingly
looked for in his kingdom. One might just as well try to make out that
the history of Guarino Mezquino, or of the quest of the Holy Grail, is
false, or that the loves of Tristram and the Queen Yseult are
apocryphal, as well as those of Guinevere and Lancelot, when there are
persons who can almost remember having seen the Dame Quintanona, who
was the best cupbearer in Great Britain. And so true is this, that I
recollect a grandmother of mine on the father's side, whenever she saw
any dame in a venerable hood, used to say to me, 'Grandson, that one
is like Dame Quintanona,' from which I conclude that she must have
known her, or at least had managed to see some portrait of her. Then
who can deny that the story of Pierres and the fair Magalona is
true, when even to this day may be seen in the king's armoury the
pin with which the valiant Pierres guided the wooden horse he rode
through the air, and it is a trifle bigger than the pole of a cart?
And alongside of the pin is Babieca's saddle, and at Roncesvalles
there is Roland's horn, as large as a large beam; whence we may
infer that there were Twelve Peers, and a Pierres, and a Cid, and
other knights like them, of the sort people commonly call adventurers.
Or perhaps I shall be told, too, that there was no such
knight-errant as the valiant Lusitanian Juan de Merlo, who went to
Burgundy and in the city of Arras fought with the famous lord of
Charny, Mosen Pierres by name, and afterwards in the city of Basle
with Mosen Enrique de Remesten, coming out of both encounters
covered with fame and honour; or adventures and challenges achieved
and delivered, also in Burgundy, by the valiant Spaniards Pedro
Barba and Gutierre Quixada (of whose family I come in the direct
male line), when they vanquished the sons of the Count of San Polo.
I shall be told, too, that Don Fernando de Guevara did not go in quest
of adventures to Germany, where he engaged in combat with Micer
George, a knight of the house of the Duke of Austria. I shall be
told that the jousts of Suero de Quinones, him of the 'Paso,' and
the emprise of Mosen Luis de Falces against the Castilian knight,
Don Gonzalo de Guzman, were mere mockeries; as well as many other
achievements of Christian knights of these and foreign realms, which
are so authentic and true, that, I repeat, he who denies them must
be totally wanting in reason and good sense."

The canon was amazed to hear the medley of truth and fiction Don
Quixote uttered, and to see how well acquainted he was with everything
relating or belonging to the achievements of his knight-errantry; so
he said in reply:

"I cannot deny, Senor Don Quixote, that there is some truth in
what you say, especially as regards the Spanish knights-errant; and
I am willing to grant too that the Twelve Peers of France existed, but
I am not disposed to believe that they did all the things that the
Archbishop Turpin relates of them. For the truth of the matter is they
were knights chosen by the kings of France, and called 'Peers' because
they were all equal in worth, rank and prowess (at least if they
were not they ought to have been), and it was a kind of religious
order like those of Santiago and Calatrava in the present day, in
which it is assumed that those who take it are valiant knights of
distinction and good birth; and just as we say now a Knight of St.
John, or of Alcantara, they used to say then a Knight of the Twelve
Peers, because twelve equals were chosen for that military order. That
there was a Cid, as well as a Bernardo del Carpio, there can be no
doubt; but that they did the deeds people say they did, I hold to be
very doubtful. In that other matter of the pin of Count Pierres that
you speak of, and say is near Babieca's saddle in the Armoury, I
confess my sin; for I am either so stupid or so short-sighted, that,
though I have seen the saddle, I have never been able to see the
pin, in spite of it being as big as your worship says it is."

"For all that it is there, without any manner of doubt," said Don
Quixote; "and more by token they say it is inclosed in a sheath of
cowhide to keep it from rusting."

"All that may be," replied the canon; "but, by the orders I have
received, I do not remember seeing it. However, granting it is
there, that is no reason why I am bound to believe the stories of
all those Amadises and of all that multitude of knights they tell us
about, nor is it reasonable that a man like your worship, so worthy,
and with so many good qualities, and endowed with such a good
understanding, should allow himself to be persuaded that such wild
crazy things as are written in those absurd books of chivalry are
really true."

Don Quixote 1.48

CHAPTER XLVIII

OF WHAT BEFELL DON QUIXOTE WITH DONA RODRIGUEZ, THE DUCHESS'S
DUENNA, TOGETHER WITH OTHER OCCURRENCES WORTHY OF RECORD AND ETERNAL
REMEMBRANCE

Exceedingly moody and dejected was the sorely wounded Don Quixote,
with his face bandaged and marked, not by the hand of God, but by
the claws of a cat, mishaps incidental to knight-errantry. Six days he
remained without appearing in public, and one night as he lay awake
thinking of his misfortunes and of Altisidora's pursuit of him, he
perceived that some one was opening the door of his room with a key,
and he at once made up his mind that the enamoured damsel was coming
to make an assault upon his chastity and put him in danger of
failing in the fidelity he owed to his lady Dulcinea del Toboso. "No,"
said he, firmly persuaded of the truth of his idea (and he said it
loud enough to be heard), "the greatest beauty upon earth shall not
avail to make me renounce my adoration of her whom I bear stamped
and graved in the core of my heart and the secret depths of my bowels;
be thou, lady mine, transformed into a clumsy country wench, or into a
nymph of golden Tagus weaving a web of silk and gold, let Merlin or
Montesinos hold thee captive where they will; whereer thou art, thou
art mine, and where'er I am, must he thine." The very instant he had
uttered these words, the door opened. He stood up on the bed wrapped
from head to foot in a yellow satin coverlet, with a cap on his
head, and his face and his moustaches tied up, his face because of the
scratches, and his moustaches to keep them from drooping and falling
down, in which trim he looked the most extraordinary scarecrow that
could be conceived. He kept his eyes fixed on the door, and just as he
was expecting to see the love-smitten and unhappy Altisidora make
her appearance, he saw coming in a most venerable duenna, in a long
white-bordered veil that covered and enveloped her from head to
foot. Between the fingers of her left hand she held a short lighted
candle, while with her right she shaded it to keep the light from
her eyes, which were covered by spectacles of great size, and she
advanced with noiseless steps, treading very softly.

Don Quixote kept an eye upon her from his watchtower, and
observing her costume and noting her silence, he concluded that it
must be some witch or sorceress that was coming in such a guise to
work him some mischief, and he began crossing himself at a great rate.
The spectre still advanced, and on reaching the middle of the room,
looked up and saw the energy with which Don Quixote was crossing
himself; and if he was scared by seeing such a figure as hers, she was
terrified at the sight of his; for the moment she saw his tall
yellow form with the coverlet and the bandages that disfigured him,
she gave a loud scream, and exclaiming, "Jesus! what's this I see?"
let fall the candle in her fright, and then finding herself in the
dark, turned about to make off, but stumbling on her skirts in her
consternation, she measured her length with a mighty fall.

Don Quixote in his trepidation began saying, "I conjure thee,
phantom, or whatever thou art, tell me what thou art and what thou
wouldst with me. If thou art a soul in torment, say so, and all that
my powers can do I will do for thee; for I am a Catholic Christian and
love to do good to all the world, and to this end I have embraced
the order of knight-errantry to which I belong, the province of
which extends to doing good even to souls in purgatory."

The unfortunate duenna hearing herself thus conjured, by her own
fear guessed Don Quixote's and in a low plaintive voice answered,
"Senor Don Quixote- if so be you are indeed Don Quixote- I am no
phantom or spectre or soul in purgatory, as you seem to think, but
Dona Rodriguez, duenna of honour to my lady the duchess, and I come to
you with one of those grievances your worship is wont to redress."

"Tell me, Senora Dona Rodriguez," said Don Quixote, "do you
perchance come to transact any go-between business? Because I must
tell you I am not available for anybody's purpose, thanks to the
peerless beauty of my lady Dulcinea del Toboso. In short, Senora
Dona Rodriguez, if you will leave out and put aside all love messages,
you may go and light your candle and come back, and we will discuss
all the commands you have for me and whatever you wish, saving only,
as I said, all seductive communications."

"I carry nobody's messages, senor," said the duenna; "little you
know me. Nay, I'm not far enough advanced in years to take to any such
childish tricks. God be praised I have a soul in my body still, and
all my teeth and grinders in my mouth, except one or two that the
colds, so common in this Aragon country, have robbed me of. But wait a
little, while I go and light my candle, and I will return
immediately and lay my sorrows before you as before one who relieves
those of all the world;" and without staying for an answer she quitted
the room and left Don Quixote tranquilly meditating while he waited
for her. A thousand thoughts at once suggested themselves to him on
the subject of this new adventure, and it struck him as being ill done
and worse advised in him to expose himself to the danger of breaking
his plighted faith to his lady; and said he to himself, "Who knows but
that the devil, being wily and cunning, may be trying now to entrap me
with a duenna, having failed with empresses, queens, duchesses,
marchionesses, and countesses? Many a time have I heard it said by
many a man of sense that he will sooner offer you a flat-nosed wench
than a roman-nosed one; and who knows but this privacy, this
opportunity, this silence, may awaken my sleeping desires, and lead me
in these my latter years to fall where I have never tripped? In
cases of this sort it is better to flee than to await the battle.
But I must be out of my senses to think and utter such nonsense; for
it is impossible that a long, white-hooded spectacled duenna could
stir up or excite a wanton thought in the most graceless bosom in
the world. Is there a duenna on earth that has fair flesh? Is there
a duenna in the world that escapes being ill-tempered, wrinkled, and
prudish? Avaunt, then, ye duenna crew, undelightful to all mankind.
Oh, but that lady did well who, they say, had at the end of her
reception room a couple of figures of duennas with spectacles and
lace-cushions, as if at work, and those statues served quite as well
to give an air of propriety to the room as if they had been real
duennas."

So saying he leaped off the bed, intending to close the door and not
allow Senora Rodriguez to enter; but as he went to shut it Senora
Rodriguez returned with a wax candle lighted, and having a closer view
of Don Quixote, with the coverlet round him, and his bandages and
night-cap, she was alarmed afresh, and retreating a couple of paces,
exclaimed, "Am I safe, sir knight? for I don't look upon it as a
sign of very great virtue that your worship should have got up out
of bed."

"I may well ask the same, senora," said Don Quixote; "and I do ask
whether I shall be safe from being assailed and forced?"

"Of whom and against whom do you demand that security, sir
knight?" said the duenna.

"Of you and against you I ask it," said Don Quixote; "for I am not
marble, nor are you brass, nor is it now ten o'clock in the morning,
but midnight, or a trifle past it I fancy, and we are in a room more
secluded and retired than the cave could have been where the
treacherous and daring AEneas enjoyed the fair soft-hearted Dido.
But give me your hand, senora; I require no better protection than
my own continence, and my own sense of propriety; as well as that
which is inspired by that venerable head-dress;" and so saying he
kissed her right hand and took it in his own, she yielding it to him
with equal ceremoniousness. And here Cide Hamete inserts a parenthesis
in which he says that to have seen the pair marching from the door
to the bed, linked hand in hand in this way, he would have given the
best of the two tunics he had.

Don Quixote finally got into bed, and Dona Rodriguez took her seat
on a chair at some little distance from his couch, without taking
off her spectacles or putting aside the candle. Don Quixote wrapped
the bedclothes round him and covered himself up completely, leaving
nothing but his face visible, and as soon as they had both regained
their composure he broke silence, saying, "Now, Senora Dona Rodriguez,
you may unbosom yourself and out with everything you have in your
sorrowful heart and afflicted bowels; and by me you shall be
listened to with chaste ears, and aided by compassionate exertions."

"I believe it," replied the duenna; "from your worship's gentle
and winning presence only such a Christian answer could be expected.
The fact is, then, Senor Don Quixote, that though you see me seated in
this chair, here in the middle of the kingdom of Aragon, and in the
attire of a despised outcast duenna, I am from the Asturias of Oviedo,
and of a family with which many of the best of the province are
connected by blood; but my untoward fate and the improvidence of my
parents, who, I know not how, were unseasonably reduced to poverty,
brought me to the court of Madrid, where as a provision and to avoid
greater misfortunes, my parents placed me as seamstress in the service
of a lady of quality, and I would have you know that for hemming and
sewing I have never been surpassed by any all my life. My parents left
me in service and returned to their own country, and a few years later
went, no doubt, to heaven, for they were excellent good Catholic
Christians. I was left an orphan with nothing but the miserable
wages and trifling presents that are given to servants of my sort in
palaces; but about this time, without any encouragement on my part,
one of the esquires of the household fell in love with me, a man
somewhat advanced in years, full-bearded and personable, and above all
as good a gentleman as the king himself, for he came of a mountain
stock. We did not carry on our loves with such secrecy but that they
came to the knowledge of my lady, and she, not to have any fuss
about it, had us married with the full sanction of the holy mother
Roman Catholic Church, of which marriage a daughter was born to put an
end to my good fortune, if I had any; not that I died in childbirth,
for I passed through it safely and in due season, but because
shortly afterwards my husband died of a certain shock he received, and
had I time to tell you of it I know your worship would be
surprised;" and here she began to weep bitterly and said, "Pardon
me, Senor Don Quixote, if I am unable to control myself, for every
time I think of my unfortunate husband my eyes fill up with tears. God
bless me, with what an air of dignity he used to carry my lady
behind him on a stout mule as black as jet! for in those days they did
not use coaches or chairs, as they say they do now, and ladies rode
behind their squires. This much at least I cannot help telling you,
that you may observe the good breeding and punctiliousness of my
worthy husband. As he was turning into the Calle de Santiago in
Madrid, which is rather narrow, one of the alcaldes of the Court, with
two alguacils before him, was coming out of it, and as soon as my good
squire saw him he wheeled his mule about and made as if he would
turn and accompany him. My lady, who was riding behind him, said to
him in a low voice, 'What are you about, you sneak, don't you see that
I am here?' The alcalde like a polite man pulled up his horse and said
to him, 'Proceed, senor, for it is I, rather, who ought to accompany
my lady Dona Casilda'- for that was my mistress's name. Still my
husband, cap in hand, persisted in trying to accompany the alcalde,
and seeing this my lady, filled with rage and vexation, pulled out a
big pin, or, I rather think, a bodkin, out of her needle-case and
drove it into his back with such force that my husband gave a loud
yell, and writhing fell to the ground with his lady. Her two
lacqueys ran to rise her up, and the alcalde and the alguacils did the
same; the Guadalajara gate was all in commotion -I mean the idlers
congregated there; my mistress came back on foot, and my husband
hurried away to a barber's shop protesting that he was run right
through the guts. The courtesy of my husband was noised abroad to such
an extent, that the boys gave him no peace in the street; and on
this account, and because he was somewhat shortsighted, my lady
dismissed him; and it was chagrin at this I am convinced beyond a
doubt that brought on his death. I was left a helpless widow, with a
daughter on my hands growing up in beauty like the sea-foam; at
length, however, as I had the character of being an excellent
needlewoman, my lady the duchess, then lately married to my lord the
duke, offered to take me with her to this kingdom of Aragon, and my
daughter also, and here as time went by my daughter grew up and with
her all the graces in the world; she sings like a lark, dances quick
as thought, foots it like a gipsy, reads and writes like a
schoolmaster, and does sums like a miser; of her neatness I say
nothing, for the running water is not purer, and her age is now, if my
memory serves me, sixteen years five months and three days, one more
or less. To come to the point, the son of a very rich farmer, living
in a village of my lord the duke's not very far from here, fell in
love with this girl of mine; and in short, how I know not, they came
together, and under the promise of marrying her he made a fool of my
daughter, and will not keep his word. And though my lord the duke is
aware of it (for I have complained to him, not once but many and
many a time, and entreated him to order the farmer to marry my
daughter), he turns a deaf ear and will scarcely listen to me; the
reason being that as the deceiver's father is so rich, and lends him
money, and is constantly going security for his debts, he does not
like to offend or annoy him in any way. Now, senor, I want your
worship to take it upon yourself to redress this wrong either by
entreaty or by arms; for by what all the world says you came into it
to redress grievances and right wrongs and help the unfortunate. Let
your worship put before you the unprotected condition of my
daughter, her youth, and all the perfections I have said she
possesses; and before God and on my conscience, out of all the damsels
my lady has, there is not one that comes up to the sole of her shoe,
and the one they call Altisidora, and look upon as the boldest and
gayest of them, put in comparison with my daughter, does not come
within two leagues of her. For I would have you know, senor, all is
not gold that glitters, and that same little Altisidora has more
forwardness than good looks, and more impudence than modesty;
besides being not very sound, for she has such a disagreeable breath
that one cannot bear to be near her for a moment; and even my lady the
duchess- but I'll hold my tongue, for they say that walls have ears."

"For heaven's sake, Dona Rodriguez, what ails my lady the
duchess?" asked Don Quixote.

"Adjured in that way," replied the duenna, "I cannot help
answering the question and telling the whole truth. Senor Don Quixote,
have you observed the comeliness of my lady the duchess, that smooth
complexion of hers like a burnished polished sword, those two cheeks
of milk and carmine, that gay lively step with which she treads or
rather seems to spurn the earth, so that one would fancy she went
radiating health wherever she passed? Well then, let me tell you she
may thank, first of all God, for this, and next, two issues that she
has, one in each leg, by which all the evil humours, of which the
doctors say she is full, are discharged."

"Blessed Virgin!" exclaimed Don Quixote; "and is it possible that my
lady the duchess has drains of that sort? I would not have believed it
if the barefoot friars had told it me; but as the lady Dona
Rodriguez says so, it must be so. But surely such issues, and in
such places, do not discharge humours, but liquid amber. Verily, I
do believe now that this practice of opening issues is a very
important matter for the health."

Don Quixote had hardly said this, when the chamber door flew open
with a loud bang, and with the start the noise gave her Dona Rodriguez
let the candle fall from her hand, and the room was left as dark as
a wolf's mouth, as the saying is. Suddenly the poor duenna felt two
hands seize her by the throat, so tightly that she could not croak,
while some one else, without uttering a word, very briskly hoisted
up her petticoats, and with what seemed to be a slipper began to lay
on so heartily that anyone would have felt pity for her; but
although Don Quixote felt it he never stirred from his bed, but lay
quiet and silent, nay apprehensive that his turn for a drubbing
might be coming. Nor was the apprehension an idle one; one; for
leaving the duenna (who did not dare to cry out) well basted, the
silent executioners fell upon Don Quixote, and stripping him of the
sheet and the coverlet, they pinched him so fast and so hard that he
was driven to defend himself with his fists, and all this in
marvellous silence. The battle lasted nearly half an hour, and then
the phantoms fled; Dona Rodriguez gathered up her skirts, and
bemoaning her fate went out without saying a word to Don Quixote,
and he, sorely pinched, puzzled, and dejected, remained alone, and
there we will leave him, wondering who could have been the perverse
enchanter who had reduced him to such a state; but that shall be
told in due season, for Sancho claims our attention, and the
methodical arrangement of the story demands it.

Don Quixote 1.47

CHAPTER XLVII

WHEREIN IS CONTINUED THE ACCOUNT OF HOW SANCHO PANZA CONDUCTED
HIMSELF IN HIS GOVERNMENT

The history says that from the justice court they carried Sancho
to a sumptuous palace, where in a spacious chamber there was a table
laid out with royal magnificence. The clarions sounded as Sancho
entered the room, and four pages came forward to present him with
water for his hands, which Sancho received with great dignity. The
music ceased, and Sancho seated himself at the head of the table,
for there was only that seat placed, and no more than one cover
laid. A personage, who it appeared afterwards was a physician,
placed himself standing by his side with a whalebone wand in his hand.
They then lifted up a fine white cloth covering fruit and a great
variety of dishes of different sorts; one who looked like a student
said grace, and a page put a laced bib on Sancho, while another who
played the part of head carver placed a dish of fruit before him.
But hardly had he tasted a morsel when the man with the wand touched
the plate with it, and they took it away from before him with the
utmost celerity. The carver, however, brought him another dish, and
Sancho proceeded to try it; but before he could get at it, not to
say taste it, already the wand had touched it and a page had carried
it off with the same promptitude as the fruit. Sancho seeing this
was puzzled, and looking from one to another asked if this dinner
was to be eaten after the fashion of a jugglery trick.

To this he with the wand replied, "It is not to be eaten, senor
governor, except as is usual and customary in other islands where
there are governors. I, senor, am a physician, and I am paid a
salary in this island to serve its governors as such, and I have a
much greater regard for their health than for my own, studying day and
night and making myself acquainted with the governor's constitution,
in order to be able to cure him when he falls sick. The chief thing
I have to do is to attend at his dinners and suppers and allow him
to eat what appears to me to be fit for him, and keep from him what
I think will do him harm and be injurious to his stomach; and
therefore I ordered that plate of fruit to be removed as being too
moist, and that other dish I ordered to he removed as being too hot
and containing many spices that stimulate thirst; for he who drinks
much kills and consumes the radical moisture wherein life consists."

"Well then," said Sancho, "that dish of roast partridges there
that seems so savoury will not do me any harm."

To this the physician replied, "Of those my lord the governor
shall not eat so long as I live."

"Why so?" said Sancho.

"Because," replied the doctor, "our master Hippocrates, the polestar
and beacon of medicine, says in one of his aphorisms omnis saturatio
mala, perdicis autem pessima, which means 'all repletion is bad, but
that of partridge is the worst of all."

"In that case," said Sancho, "let senor doctor see among the
dishes that are on the table what will do me most good and least harm,
and let me eat it, without tapping it with his stick; for by the
life of the governor, and so may God suffer me to enjoy it, but I'm
dying of hunger; and in spite of the doctor and all he may say, to
deny me food is the way to take my life instead of prolonging it."

"Your worship is right, senor governor," said the physician; "and
therefore your worship, I consider, should not eat of those stewed
rabbits there, because it is a furry kind of food; if that veal were
not roasted and served with pickles, you might try it; but it is out
of the question."

"That big dish that is smoking farther off," said Sancho, "seems
to me to be an olla podrida, and out of the diversity of things in
such ollas, I can't fail to light upon something tasty and good for
me."

"Absit," said the doctor; "far from us be any such base thought!
There is nothing in the world less nourishing than an olla podrida; to
canons, or rectors of colleges, or peasants' weddings with your
ollas podridas, but let us have none of them on the tables of
governors, where everything that is present should be delicate and
refined; and the reason is, that always, everywhere and by
everybody, simple medicines are more esteemed than compound ones,
for we cannot go wrong in those that are simple, while in the compound
we may, by merely altering the quantity of the things composing
them. But what I am of opinion the governor should cat now in order to
preserve and fortify his health is a hundred or so of wafer cakes
and a few thin slices of conserve of quinces, which will settle his
stomach and help his digestion."

Sancho on hearing this threw himself back in his chair and
surveyed the doctor steadily, and in a solemn tone asked him what
his name was and where he had studied.

He replied, "My name, senor governor, is Doctor Pedro Recio de
Aguero I am a native of a place called Tirteafuera which lies
between Caracuel and Almodovar del Campo, on the right-hand side,
and I have the degree of doctor from the university of Osuna."

To which Sancho, glowing all over with rage, returned, "Then let
Doctor Pedro Recio de Malaguero, native of Tirteafuera, a place that's
on the right-hand side as we go from Caracuel to Almodovar del
Campo, graduate of Osuna, get out of my presence at once; or I swear
by the sun I'll take a cudgel, and by dint of blows, beginning with
him, I'll not leave a doctor in the whole island; at least of those
I know to be ignorant; for as to learned, wise, sensible physicians,
them I will reverence and honour as divine persons. Once more I say
let Pedro Recio get out of this or I'll take this chair I am sitting
on and break it over his head. And if they call me to account for
it, I'll clear myself by saying I served God in killing a bad
doctor- a general executioner. And now give me something to eat, or
else take your government; for a trade that does not feed its master
is not worth two beans."

The doctor was dismayed when he saw the governor in such a
passion, and he would have made a Tirteafuera out of the room but that
the same instant a post-horn sounded in the street; and the carver
putting his head out of the window turned round and said, "It's a
courier from my lord the duke, no doubt with some despatch of
importance."

The courier came in all sweating and flurried, and taking a paper
from his bosom, placed it in the governor's hands. Sancho handed it to
the majordomo and bade him read the superscription, which ran thus: To
Don Sancho Panza, Governor of the Island of Barataria, into his own
hands or those of his secretary. Sancho when he heard this said,
"Which of you is my secretary?" "I am, senor," said one of those
present, "for I can read and write, and am a Biscayan." "With that
addition," said Sancho, "you might be secretary to the emperor
himself; open this paper and see what it says." The new-born secretary
obeyed, and having read the contents said the matter was one to be
discussed in private. Sancho ordered the chamber to be cleared, the
majordomo and the carver only remaining; so the doctor and the
others withdrew, and then the secretary read the letter, which was
as follows:


It has come to my knowledge, Senor Don Sancho Panza, that certain
enemies of mine and of the island are about to make a furious attack
upon it some night, I know not when. It behoves you to be on the alert
and keep watch, that they surprise you not. I also know by trustworthy
spies that four persons have entered the town in disguise in order
to take your life, because they stand in dread of your great capacity;
keep your eyes open and take heed who approaches you to address you,
and eat nothing that is presented to you. I will take care to send you
aid if you find yourself in difficulty, but in all things you will act
as may be expected of your judgment. From this place, the Sixteenth of
August, at four in the morning.

Your friend,

THE DUKE



Sancho was astonished, and those who stood by made believe to be
so too, and turning to the majordomo he said to him, "What we have got
to do first, and it must be done at once, is to put Doctor Recio in
the lock-up; for if anyone wants to kill me it is he, and by a slow
death and the worst of all, which is hunger."

"Likewise," said the carver, "it is my opinion your worship should
not eat anything that is on this table, for the whole was a present
from some nuns; and as they say, 'behind the cross there's the
devil.'"

"I don't deny it," said Sancho; "so for the present give me a
piece of bread and four pounds or so of grapes; no poison can come
in them; for the fact is I can't go on without eating; and if we are
to be prepared for these battles that are threatening us we must be
well provisioned; for it is the tripes that carry the heart and not
the heart the tripes. And you, secretary, answer my lord the duke
and tell him that all his commands shall be obeyed to the letter, as
he directs; and say from me to my lady the duchess that I kiss her
hands, and that I beg of her not to forget to send my letter and
bundle to my wife Teresa Panza by a messenger; and I will take it as a
great favour and will not fail to serve her in all that may lie within
my power; and as you are about it you may enclose a kiss of the hand
to my master Don Quixote that he may see I am grateful bread; and as a
good secretary and a good Biscayan you may add whatever you like and
whatever will come in best; and now take away this cloth and give me
something to eat, and I'll be ready to meet all the spies and
assassins and enchanters that may come against me or my island."

At this instant a page entered saying, "Here is a farmer on
business, who wants to speak to your lordship on a matter of great
importance, he says."

"It's very odd," said Sancho, "the ways of these men on business; is
it possible they can be such fools as not to see that an hour like
this is no hour for coming on business? We who govern and we who are
judges- are we not men of flesh and blood, and are we not to be
allowed the time required for taking rest, unless they'd have us
made of marble? By God and on my conscience, if the government remains
in my hands (which I have a notion it won't), I'll bring more than one
man on business to order. However, tell this good man to come in;
but take care first of all that he is not some spy or one of my
assassins."

"No, my lord," said the page, "for he looks like a simple fellow,
and either I know very little or he is as good as good bread."

"There is nothing to be afraid of," said the majordomo, "for we
are all here."

"Would it be possible, carver," said Sancho, "now that Doctor
Pedro Recio is not here, to let me eat something solid and
substantial, if it were even a piece of bread and an onion?"

"To-night at supper," said the carver, "the shortcomings of the
dinner shall be made good, and your lordship shall be fully
contented."

"God grant it," said Sancho.

The farmer now came in, a well-favoured man that one might see a
thousand leagues off was an honest fellow and a good soul. The first
thing he said was, "Which is the lord governor here?"

"Which should it be," said the secretary, "but he who is seated in
the chair?"

"Then I humble myself before him," said the farmer; and going on his
knees he asked for his hand, to kiss it. Sancho refused it, and bade
him stand up and say what he wanted. The farmer obeyed, and then said,
"I am a farmer, senor, a native of Miguelturra, a village two
leagues from Ciudad Real."

"Another Tirteafuera!" said Sancho; "say on, brother; I know
Miguelturra very well I can tell you, for it's not very far from my
own town."

"The case is this, senor," continued the farmer, "that by God's
mercy I am married with the leave and licence of the holy Roman
Catholic Church; I have two sons, students, and the younger is
studying to become bachelor, and the elder to be licentiate; I am a
widower, for my wife died, or more properly speaking, a bad doctor
killed her on my hands, giving her a purge when she was with child;
and if it had pleased God that the child had been born, and was a boy,
I would have put him to study for doctor, that he might not envy his
brothers the bachelor and the licentiate."

"So that if your wife had not died, or had not been killed, you
would not now be a widower," said Sancho.

"No, senor, certainly not," said the farmer.

"We've got that much settled," said Sancho; "get on, brother, for
it's more bed-time than business-time."

"Well then," said the farmer, "this son of mine who is going to be a
bachelor, fell in love in the said town with a damsel called Clara
Perlerina, daughter of Andres Perlerino, a very rich farmer; and
this name of Perlerines does not come to them by ancestry or
descent, but because all the family are paralytics, and for a better
name they call them Perlerines; though to tell the truth the damsel is
as fair as an Oriental pearl, and like a flower of the field, if you
look at her on the right side; on the left not so much, for on that
side she wants an eye that she lost by small-pox; and though her
face is thickly and deeply pitted, those who love her say they are not
pits that are there, but the graves where the hearts of her lovers are
buried. She is so cleanly that not to soil her face she carries her
nose turned up, as they say, so that one would fancy it was running
away from her mouth; and with all this she looks extremely well, for
she has a wide mouth; and but for wanting ten or a dozen teeth and
grinders she might compare and compete with the comeliest. Of her lips
I say nothing, for they are so fine and thin that, if lips might be
reeled, one might make a skein of them; but being of a different
colour from ordinary lips they are wonderful, for they are mottled,
blue, green, and purple- let my lord the governor pardon me for
painting so minutely the charms of her who some time or other will
be my daughter; for I love her, and I don't find her amiss."

"Paint what you will," said Sancho; "I enjoy your painting, and if I
had dined there could be no dessert more to my taste than your
portrait."

"That I have still to furnish," said the farmer; "but a time will
come when we may be able if we are not now; and I can tell you, senor,
if I could paint her gracefulness and her tall figure, it would
astonish you; but that is impossible because she is bent double with
her knees up to her mouth; but for all that it is easy to see that
if she could stand up she'd knock her head against the ceiling; and
she would have given her hand to my bachelor ere this, only that she
can't stretch it out, for it's contracted; but still one can see its
elegance and fine make by its long furrowed nails."

"That will do, brother," said Sancho; "consider you have painted her
from head to foot; what is it you want now? Come to the point
without all this beating about the bush, and all these scraps and
additions."

"I want your worship, senor," said the farmer, "to do me the
favour of giving me a letter of recommendation to the girl's father,
begging him to be so good as to let this marriage take place, as we
are not ill-matched either in the gifts of fortune or of nature; for
to tell the truth, senor governor, my son is possessed of a devil, and
there is not a day but the evil spirits torment him three or four
times; and from having once fallen into the fire, he has his face
puckered up like a piece of parchment, and his eyes watery and
always running; but he has the disposition of an angel, and if it
was not for belabouring and pummelling himself he'd be a saint."

"Is there anything else you want, good man?" said Sancho.

"There's another thing I'd like," said the farmer, "but I'm afraid
to mention it; however, out it must; for after all I can't let it be
rotting in my breast, come what may. I mean, senor, that I'd like your
worship to give me three hundred or six hundred ducats as a help to my
bachelor's portion, to help him in setting up house; for they must, in
short, live by themselves, without being subject to the
interferences of their fathers-in-law."

"Just see if there's anything else you'd like," said Sancho, "and
don't hold back from mentioning it out of bashfulness or modesty."

"No, indeed there is not," said the farmer.

The moment he said this the governor started to his feet, and
seizing the chair he had been sitting on exclaimed, "By all that's
good, you ill-bred, boorish Don Bumpkin, if you don't get out of
this at once and hide yourself from my sight, I'll lay your head
open with this chair. You whoreson rascal, you devil's own painter,
and is it at this hour you come to ask me for six hundred ducats!
How should I have them, you stinking brute? And why should I give them
to you if I had them, you knave and blockhead? What have I to do
with Miguelturra or the whole family of the Perlerines? Get out I say,
or by the life of my lord the duke I'll do as I said. You're not
from Miguelturra, but some knave sent here from hell to tempt me. Why,
you villain, I have not yet had the government half a day, and you
want me to have six hundred ducats already!"

The carver made signs to the farmer to leave the room, which he
did with his head down, and to all appearance in terror lest the
governor should carry his threats into effect, for the rogue knew very
well how to play his part.

But let us leave Sancho in his wrath, and peace be with them all;
and let us return to Don Quixote, whom we left with his face
bandaged and doctored after the cat wounds, of which he was not
cured for eight days; and on one of these there befell him what Cide
Hamete promises to relate with that exactitude and truth with which he
is wont to set forth everything connected with this great history,
however minute it may be.