CHAPTER XXXIII.

Of the delightful conversation which the duchess and her waiting
women had with Sancho Panza, worth reading and worth noting.



THE history goes on to relate that Sancho did not take his siesta but,
by way of keeping his word, came in to see the duchess before he had
scarcely done eating. As she was very fond of listening to him, she in-
sisted on his sitting down beside her on a low chair. Merely out of good
breeding, Sancho declined at first, but the duchess made matters right by
telling him that he should sit as a governor and talk as a squire, since in
either capacity he deserved nothing less than the seat of Cid Ruy Diaz,
the Campeador himself.436 Shrugging his shoulders, Sancho obeyed and
sat down, and all the damsels and duennas then gathered around him
and, preserving a deep silence, waited to hear what he might have to
say. It was the duchess, however, who was the first to speak.

"Now that we are alone," she said, "with no one to hear us, I should
like the Senor Governor to resolve certain doubts that I have, growing
out of the story of the great Don Quixote that has already been printed.
For one thing, inasmuch as the worthy Sancho never saw Dulcinea, I
mean the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, and never brought her Don Quix-
ote's letter, which was left in the memorandum book on the Sierra
Morena,437 how did he dare make up the answer and that tale about her
winnowing wheat, a hoax and a falsehood so detrimental to the repu-
tation of the peerless Dulcinea, and so unbecoming to the character
of a good and faithful squire?"

Sancho listened to these words without making any reply whatsoever.
Instead, he rose from his chair and, with his back bent and a finger on
his lips, went all around the room lifting the draperies. Having done
this, he came back and sat down again. It was only then that he broke
his silence.

"My lady," he began, "now that I have seen that there are no eaves-
droppers but only the bystanders to hear what is said, I wdll answer your
question and any other that you may wish to ask me. In the first place,
I must tell you that I look upon my master Don Quixote as stark mad,
even though at times he says things that to me and all those w ho listen
to him seem so wise and directed in such a straight rut that Satan him-
self could not do any better. But, for all of that, there is not the slightest
doubt in my mind that he's cracked. Well, then, having this in my nod-
dle, I can venture to make him believe things that don't make head nor
tail, like that business of the answer to his letter, and that other that
only happened six or eight days ago and so is not in the story yet, by
which I mean, the enchantment of my lady, Dona Dulcinea; for though
I gave him to understand that she was under a spell, there's no more
truth in it than over the hills of Ubeda."438

The duchess then asked him to tell her about the hoax having to do
with the enchantment, and he narrated the incident just as it had hap-
pened, at which his audience was not a little amused. The duchess then
resumed the conversation.

"As a result of what the worthy Sancho has told me," she said, "there
arises a question in my mind, a certain whispering in my ear which says:
if Don Quixote is crazy, weak-minded, crackbrained, and Sancho his
squire knows it and still continues to serve him and to cling to the empty
promises his master has made him, he must undoubtedly be the more
foolish and the more insane of the two; and if this is the case, my lady
the Duchess, as I am sure it is, you are bound to be reproached for
having given him an island to govern; for if he cannot govern himself,
how can he govern others?"

"By God, lady," said Sancho, "you've spoken straight to the point;
but go ahead, your Highness, and say whatever you like, as plain as you
like, for I know' it to be the truth. I know that if I had good sense I'd have
left my master long ago. But this is my luck, my misfortune, and I
can't help following him. We're from the same village, I've eaten his
bread, I like him very much, he's generous to me,439 he gave me his ass-
colts, and, above all, I'm loyal; and so it's impossible for anything to
separate us except the pick and spade.440 And if your Highness doesn't
want to give me that island that you promised me, well, I didn't have it
when God made me, and it may be that your not giving it to me will be
all the better for my conscience.

"I may be a fool," he went on, "but I know what is meant by the
saying, 'To her harm the ant grew wings.'441 It may be that Sancho
the squire will go to Heaven sooner than Sancho the governor. They
make as good bread here as in France, and at night all cats are gray. He
is hard up who hasn't broken his fast by two in the afternoon, and there's
no stomach that's bigger than another by the breadth of your palm,
and you can fill it with straw or hay, as the saying goes. The little birds
of the field have God for their provider, and four yards of Cuenca
frieze keep you warmer than four of Segovia broadcloth.442 Once we
have left this world and gone down under the earth, the prince travels
by as narrow a path as the day laborer, and the pope's body takes up no
more feet of earth than does the sacristan's,443 even though one is higher
than the other; for, when we go to the grave, we all make ourselves as
small as we can, or they do it for us whether we like it or not, and
then it's good night all.

"And so I will say once again that if your Ladyship doesn't care to
give me that island because I'm a fool, then like a wise man I'll not let
it worry me. I've heard it said that behind the cross stands the devil,
and all is not gold that glitters.444 The peasant Wamba445 was taken from
behind the oxen, the plows, and the yokes to be king of Spain, and
Rodrigo446 was taken from among his brocades, pastimes, and riches to
be devoured by serpents, if the old ballads do not lie."

"Of course they do not lie!" exclaimed the duenna Dona Rodriguez,
who was one of the listeners. "Why, there is a ballad that tells how they
put King Rodrigo while he was still alive into a tomb full of toads,
snakes, and lizards, and two days later he cried out from inside the tomb
in a low, pain-stricken voice:


　　　　They are eating me now, they are eating me now,
　　　　There where I most have sinned.'447


And according to that, this gentleman is quite right in saying he would
rather be a peasant than a king if he is to be eaten by reptiles in the
end."

The duchess could not help laughing at the simplicity of her duenna,
nor could she get over her astonishment as she listened to Sancho and
his proverbs. She now addressed herself to him.

"The worthy Sancho well knows," she said, "that once a knight makes
a promise he strives to fulfill it though it cost him his life. The duke,
my lord and husband, though not of the errant variety, is nonetheless a
knight, and he accordingly will keep his word with regard to that island
he promised despite the envy and malice of others. Let Sancho be of
good courage, for when he least expects it he will find himself on some
island throne, in the seat of authority, and he will then take over the
government, that he may exchange it for another of triple brocade.448
The charge that I would lay upon him is this: that he look well to tlv*
manner in which he governs his vassals, in view of the fact that they
all are loyal and wellborn."

"As to this business of governing them well," said Sancho, there s
no need of charging me to do that, for I am by nature kindhearted and
charitable toward the poor. You don't steal the bread from one who
kneads and bakes,449 and, faith, they'd better not throw false dice with
me. I'm an old dog and know all about tus, tus.450 I can get the dust out
of my eyes when the time comes, and there are no specks in front of
them, either. I know where the shoe pinches me.451 I say this by way
of letting you know that the good will find in me a support and a refuge
and the bad will not get a foothold. As I see it, in this matter of gov-
ernments, everything depends on the kind of start you make; and it
may be that after I've been governor for a couple of weeks. I'll have my
hand in and will be better at the job than at work in the fields, which I
was brought up to do."

"You are right, Sancho," the duchess assured him, "for no one is
born educated, and bishops are made out of men, not out of stones. But
to return to the subject of which we were speaking a short while ago,
the lady Dulcinea's enchantment. I hold it to be certain and thoroughly
established that Sancho's idea of hoaxing his master and making him
think that the peasant girl was Dulcinea, and of leading him to believe
that if he did not recognize her it must be because she was under a magic
spell--I maintain that all this was indeed the invention of one of those
enchanters that persecute Don Quixote; for, in all seriousness, I know
from good authority that the country maid who leaped upon the she-
ass was Dulcinea del Toboso, and that the worthy Sancho, thinking he
is the deceiver, is in reality the deceived.

"There is no more reason to doubt the truth of this than there is
to doubt anything simply because we have not seen it with our own
eyes. I would inform Senor Sancho Panza that we also have enchanters
here, friendly ones, who tell us what goes on in the world, plainly and
simply, without any plotting or scheming; and, believe me, Sancho, that
sportive lass was and is Dulcinea del Toboso, who is as much enchanted
as the mother that bore her,452 and when we are least expecting it we
shall behold her in her proper form, and then Sancho will be freed of
the misapprehension under which he is laboring."

"That may all very well be," said Sancho Panza, "and now I am ready
to believe what my master told me he saw in the Cave of Montesinos.
He says that when he saw the lady Dulcinea del T oboso there, she
was wearing the same clothes that I told him I had seen her wearing
when I enchanted her for my own pleasure. But it must be just the other
way around, as you say, my lady; for it is not to be, and cannot be, sup-
posed that one who is no brighter than I am should have been able to
concoct so clever a trick in a moment's time, nor do I think my master
is so mad that my weak and feeble persuasion could bring him to be-
lieve a thing that is so beyond the bounds of reason. But your Ladyship
must not on this account look upon me as a mischief-maker, since a
stupid fellow like me cannot be expected to see through the evil de-
signs of those wicked enchanters. I made all that up simply in order to
escape a scolding from my master, Senor Don Quixote, and not with
any intention of harming him, and if it has come out just the opposite
way from what I intended, God's in his Heaven and He judges our
hearts."

"That is true," said the duchess, "but tell me, Sancho, what is all this
about the Cave of Montesinos--I should like to hear it."

Sancho then related the adventure point by point as it has been set
down here.

"From this episode," remarked the duchess when he had finished,
"one may infer that, since the great Don Quixote says he saw down
there the same peasant girl that Sancho encountered on the El Toboso
road, she must undoubtedly be Dulcinea, and that means that there are
some very clever and meddlesome enchanters at work around here."

"That is what I say," replied Sancho Panza, "and if my lady Dulcinea
del Toboso is enchanted, so much the worse for her; I'm not going
to pick a quarrel with my master's enemies, who must be many and
wicked. The truth is that the one I saw was a peasant lass and that was
what I took her to be and set her down for; and if Dulcinea it was, that
is not to be held against me, nor should I take the consequences. But
they have to be after me at every step with Sancho said this and Sancho
did that, Sancho here and Sancho there--just as if Sancho was nobody
at all, instead of being that same Sancho Panza that is now going about
the world in books, according to what Sanson Carrasco told me, and
he at least is a bachelor of Salamanca, and people like him can't lie, un-
less the fancy happens to take them or they find it very convenient to
do so. There's no reason for anybody's falling out with me, for I have
a fine reputation, and I've heard my master say that a good name is
worth more than great riches;453 so, stick me into this governorship and
you'll see marvels. He who has been a good squire will make a good
governor."

"All that the worthy Sancho has just said," remarked the duchess, "is
out of Cato's maxims454 or, at the least, drawn from the very entrails of
Miguel Verino himself, who florentibus occidit amiis.455 In short, speak-
ing after his own manner, under a bad cloak you commonly find a good
drinker."456

"Well, to tell you the truth, lady," replied Sancho, "I never in my
life have drunk from malice, though it well may be that I have from
thirst, for there's nothing of the hypocrite in me. I drink when I feel
like it, and even when I don't feel like it, if they offer it to me, so as not
to appear strait-laced or ill bred. If a friend drinks to your health, you'd
have to have a heart of marble, wouldn't you, not to raise your glass
u ith his--But though I put on my shoes I never get them dirty.457 And,
anyhow, the squires of knights-errant commonly drink water, for they
are always going through forests, woods, and meadows, and over moun-
tains and cliffs, without finding a paltry drop of wine, though they'd
be willing to give one of their eyes for it."

"I believe all that," the duchess answered him, "but, for now, let
Sancho go and take his rest and later we will talk of all these things
at greater length and will make arrangements to stick Sancho into that
governorship, as he himself would put it, as soon as possible."

Sancho once more kissed the duchess's hand and begged her to do
him the favor of seeing that his gray was well cared for, as it was the
light of his eye.

"What gray is that?" inquired the duchess.

"That ass of mine," replied Sancho. "So that I won't have to men-
tion him by that name, I'm in the habit of calling him 'the gray.' When I
first came into the castle, I asked this lady duenna to look after him, and
she was as angry about it as if I had said she was old or ugly, though it
ought to be more fitting and proper for duennas to feed the beasts in
the stable than to pose in halls of state. There was a certain gentleman
in my village--Heaven help me, how he had it in for those ladies! "

"He must have been some clown or other," said Doha Rodriguez.
"If he had been a gentleman and wellborn, he would have placed them
in his estimation higher than the horns of the moon."

"Come now," said the duchess, "that will do for the present. Be
quiet, Doha Rodriguez, and let Senor Panza rest easy and leave the care
of his gray to me. Seeing that the ass is his precious jewel, I will put it
on the apple of my eye."

"He will do well enough in the stable," said Sancho, "since neither
he nor I is worthy of being on the apple of your Highness's eye for a
single moment, and I would as soon stab myself as consent to it; for
although my master says that in the matter of courtesies it is better to
lose by a card too many than a card too few,458 when it comes to beastly
and asinine civilities,459 we must be careful to steer a middle course."

"Take him along with you to your government, Sancho," said the
duchess. "There you'll be able to feast him as much as you like, and
you can even pension him off so that he will not have to work any more."

"Do not think, my lady the Duchess," replied Sancho, "that there
would be anything so strange in that. I have seen more than one ass go
up to a government, and so it would be nothing new if I took mine
with me."

The duchess was more delighted than ever with Sancho's amusing
conversation, and, having packed him off to bed, she went to tell the
duke of what had happened. Between the two of them they arranged
to play a famous joke upon Don Quixote, in true knightly style; and, in
fact, they carried out a number of jests of that sort which are the best
adventures to be met with in this great history.



CHAPTER XXXIV.

Which relates how they found the way of disenchanting the peerless
Dulcinea del TobosOj one of the most famous adventures in this book.



GREAT was the pleasure which the duke and duchess found in the
conversation of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, and being more anx-
ious than ever to play a few jokes upon them that would have all the
appearance of adventures, they decided to take what the knight had
told them concerning the Cave of Montesinos460 as their starting point in
perpetrating a hoax that should be truly out of the ordinary. What aston-
ished the duchess most of all was Sancho's vast simplicity; for he had
come to believe it to be the gospel truth that Dulcinea had been en-
chanted, though he himself had plotted the whole business.

And so, a week later, having instructed the servants in everything that
was expected of them, they proceeded to take Don Quixote on a hunt-
ing expedition with as large a retinue of huntsmen and beaters as might
have accompanied a crowned monarch. They presented their guest with
a hunting suit, and Sancho with another of the finest green cloth, but
the knight declined the garment, saying that he would soon be re-
turning to the arduous life of a man of arms and did not wish to carry
with him a wardrobe or luggage of any sort. Sancho, however, accepted
the gift, meaning to sell it at the first opportunity.

When the appointed day arrived, Don Quixote donned his armor and
Sancho. trigged himself out; and, mounted on his gray, from which he
was unwilling to part despite the fact that they had provided him with
a horse, the squire took his place among the troop of beaters. The
duchess rode forth in splendid attire, and out of pure courtesy the
knight held her palfrey's rein though the duke protested that he should
not do so. At length they came to a wood between two very high
mountains, and here they took up their various posts and hiding places
and spread out along the paths; and then, when all was in readiness, the
hunt began, accompanied by such a din of shouting voices, barking
dogs, and blaring horns that they could not hear one another speak.

With a sharp-pointed javelin in her hands, the duchess dismounted
and posted herself where she knew the boars were in the habit of
passing. The duke and Don Quixote did the same, stationing themselves
at her side, but Sancho remained behind, seated upon his gray, which
he did not care to leave unprotected lest some misfortune should befall
it. No sooner were they in position, with the many servants drawn up
in a line, than they saw coming toward them, hotly pursued by the
hounds and followed by the hunters, a huge boar, gnashing his teeth,
grinding his tusks, and scattering foam from his mouth; and imme-
diately upon catching sight of the beast, Don Quixote braced his shield,
drew his sword, and went forward to meet it. The duke, armed with
a spear, followed the knight's example; and as for the duchess, she
would have left them all behind had not her husband restrained her;
but Sancho, frightened by the animal's fierce mien, left his gray to
shift for itself and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

Trying in vain to scramble up a tall oak, the unfortunate squire was
caught on a branch midway, and as he was struggling to reach the top
the bough broke and he fell, only to be hooked by another snag and
left hanging there, unable to reach the ground. Finding himself in this
plight and perceiving that his green hunting coat was ripping, and,
moreover, being afraid that if the boar came that way it might succeed
in getting at him, he began screaming so loudly and calling for help so
earnestly that all those who heard him without being able to see him
thought he must surely be in the teeth of some wild beast.

Finally the boar fell, pierced by the many spears that were thrust
in his way; and it was then that Don Quixote, who had heard and
recognized Sancho's cries, turned his head and beheld his squire hanging
head downward from the oak, with the gray standing close by, for it
had been unwilling to forsake its owner in his calamity. (And here Cid
Hamete goes on to observe that he seldom saw Sancho Panza without
the ass or the ass without Sancho Panza, such was the friendship and
loyalty that existed between them.) The knight came up and freed
the captive, who, as soon as he was safe on the ground once more, looked
at the rent in his hunting coat. It pained him deeply, for that garment
was like an ancestral estate to him.

In the meantime, they had slung the mighty boar across the back
of a mule and, covering it with branches of rosemary and myrtle, they
brought it as the spoils of victory to some large field tents that had been
set up in the middle of the wood. Here they found the tables laid and
a meal prepared, so sumptuous and so plentiful that it was easy to see
the rank and magnificence of the one who had provided it.

"If we had been hunting hares or small birds," remarked Sancho to
the duchess as he showed her the rents in his hunting suit, "my coat
would never have been in this state. I'm sure I don't know what pleasure
there is in waiting for an animal that will be the death of you if he
reaches you with one of his tusks. I remember hearing an old song that
goes like this:

　　　　　　　　　By the bears be thou eaten
　　　　　　　　　as was Favila the famed

"He was a Gothic king," said Don Quixote, "who went out hunting
and was eaten by a bear."461

"That is what I was saying," replied Sancho, "and I would not have
kings and princes put themselves in such danger in exchange for a pleas-
ure which, as I see it, ought not to be one, since it consists in killing
an animal that has done no harm whatever."

"That is where you are wrong, Sancho," said the duke, "for the
hunting of big game is an exercise that is more becoming in kings and
princes, and more necessary to them, than any other. It is an image of
war;462 in it will be found stratagems, wiles, and ambuscades for the
purpose of overcoming the enemy in safety; the hunter must endure the
greatest cold and the most intolerable heat and must forego ease and
sleep, while at the same time his bodily strength is increased, his limbs
rendered supple. In short, it is an exercise that harms no one and gives
pleasure to many. And the best thing about it is that it is not a di-
version for everyone as are other field sports, with the exception of
hawking, which also is only for kings and great lords. And so, Sancho,
you would do well to change your mind and take up hunting when you
become a governor. You will see how worth-while it is.463

"Not I," said Sancho. "The worthy governor has broken his leg and
cannot leave the house.464 It would be a fine thing, wouldn't it, if when
people went to the trouble of coming to see him on business he was
always out in the woods having a good time--That way, the govern-
ment would go to pot. My word, sir, hunting and such like amusements
are for loafers rather than for governors. I mean to amuse myself by
playing a game of brag465 at Eastertime and bowling a little on Sundays
and feast days, but hunting doesn't agree with either my constitution or
my conscience."

"Please God it may be so, Sancho, for it is a long way from saying
to doing."466

"Be that as it may," replied Sancho, "pledges don't bother a good
paymaster,467 God's help is worth more than getting up early,468 and it's
the tripes that carry the feet, not feet the tripes.469 What I mean to say
is, that if God helps me and I do what I ought to do with the right in-
tentions, I'll undoubtedly make out better at governing than a gerfalcon.
Otherwise, let them put a finger in my mouth and see whether I bite or
not."

"May God and all his saints curse you, accursed Sancho!" exclaimed
Don Quixote. "As I have said many times before, will the day ever come
when I shall hear you talk plainly and coherently without all those
proverbs of yours--My lord and lady, your Highnesses had best leave
this fool alone, for he will grind your souls between, not two, but a
thousand old saws, which he will drag in with as much rhyme and rea-
son as I hope God gives him health--or me, for that matter, if I am
foolish enough to listen to them."

"Sancho's proverbs," observed the duchess, "granting that they ex-
ceed in number those of the Greek Commander,470 are not for that
reason to be less esteemed on account of their brevity. For my own part,
I can say that they give me greater pleasure than others, even when
those others are more timely and to the point."

Conversing on such subjects as these, they left the tent and returned
to the wood to visit some of the hiding places that had been set up, and
thus the day quickly passed and night came, but a night not as bright
and tranquil as was to have been expected at that season, for it was mid-
summer. There was a kind of haze in the air that was a great help to the
duke and duchess in carrying out what they had in mind. A little after
twilight, just as night was falling, it seemed of a sudden as if the entire
wood was on fire; and a moment later, here, there, and everywhere, a
countless number of trumpets and other martial instruments were heard,
as if many troops of cavalry were passing by, and the light of the fire
and those warlike sounds all but blinded and deafened the eyes and ears
of the onlookers, and, indeed, of all those that were in the wood.

Then were heard innumerable cries of the kind the Moors give when
joining battle,471 mingled with the blare of trumpets and bugles, the
roll of drums, the sound of fifes, all at one and the same time, creating
so furious and continuous a din that he could have had no senses who
would not have lost them as a result of all this uproar. The duke was
astounded, the duchess was amazed, Don Quixote was astonished, Sancho
Panza was trembling all over, and even they who knew what the cause
of it was were frightened. In the midst of their fear, silence fell upon
them as a postilion dressed like a demon passed in front of them, play-
ing upon a huge hollow horn that served him as a bugle and that gave
forth a hoarse and terrifying sound.

"Ho, there, brother courier!" cried the duke. "Who are you, where
are you going, and what army is that which appears to be passing through
this wood?"

"I am the devil," replied the courier in a horrendous voice. "I come
to seek Don Quixote de la Mancha. Those whom you see here are six
troops of enchanters who are bringing with them in a triumphal car the
peerless Dulcinea del Toboso. She is under a magic spell and is accom-
panied by the gallant Frenchman, Montesinos. They come to inform
Don Quixote as to how she, the said lady, may be disenchanted."

"If you are a devil as you say and as your appearance shows you to
be, you would have recognized Don Quixote de la Mancha, for he
stands here before you."

"In God's name and upon my conscience," said the devil, "I did not
take a good look at him. I have so much on my mind that I am forgetting
the chief thing for which I came."

"There is no doubt about it," said Sancho, "this demon must be a good
man and a good Christian, for if he wasn't, he wouldn't swear by God
and his conscience. For my part, I'm convinced now that there are
good people even in Hell."

Then, without dismounting, the demon fastened his gaze upon Don
Quixote. "O Knight of the Lions," he said, "for I can see you between
their claws at this very moment, it is that ill-starred but valiant knight,
Montesinos, who has sent me to you to inform you that you should
wait for him in whatever place you chance to be, as he is bringing with
him the one who is known as Dulcinea del Toboso in order that he may
show you what you must do to disenchant her. And since I came for
no more than that, I need tarry no longer. May demons like me be with
you, and good angels with these gentle folk."

Saying this, he blew upon that monstrous horn of his and turned his
back and went away without waiting for an answer from anyone.

They were more astonished than ever now, especially Sancho and
Don Quixote: Sancho at seeing how, in spite of the truth, they would
have it that Dulcinea was enchanted;472 while Don Quixote was unable
to make up his mind as to whether what had happened to him in the
Cave of Montesinos was real or not. He was immersed in these thoughts
when the duke spoke to him.

"Does your Grace intend to wait, Senor Don Quixote?''

"Why not?" was the reply. "I will wait here, strong and intrepid,
though all Hell should come to attack me."

"If I see another devil or hear another horn like that last one," said
Sancho, "I will wait here about as much as I would in Flanders."

Night had closed in by now, and many lights could be seen darting
through the wood, just as those fiery exhalations of the earth that ap-
pear to us to be shooting stars are to be descried flitting across the sky.
At the same time there came a frightening rumble, like that caused by
the solid wheels of ox-carts, the strident and constant creaking of which
is said to put the wolves and bears to flight if there happen to be any
along the way.473 And this tempest of sound was still further increased
when it was discovered that on all four sides of the wood were what
really seemed to be four encounters or battles, going on simultaneously:
on one side, the dread thunder of artillery; on another, a heavy musket
fire. The shouts of the combatants apparently came from close at hand
as the battle cry of the Moors rose again in the distance.

In short, the bugles, horns, clarions, trumpets, drums, artillery,
muskets, and, above all, that terrifying rumble of wagon wheels cre-
ated so horrible a tumult that Don Quixote had to summon all his
courage in order to endure it. Sancho fell in a faint on the duchess's skirt
and she, letting him lie there, ordered them to throw water on his face.
This was done, and he came to himself again just as one of the carts with
the creaking wheels reached the spot. It was drawn by four sluggish
oxen, all of them covered with black trappings. On each of the oxen's
horns was a lighted wax taper, and on the bed of the cart was an elevated
seat on which sat a venerable old man with a beard that was whiter than
snow itself and so long that it fell below his waist. He was clad in a robe
of black buckram; for, as the cart was brilliantly lighted, it was easy to
see and make out everything that was in it. The oxen were led by two
demons, also dressed in buckram, whose faces were so ugly that, once
having had a glimpse of them, Sancho shut his eyes that he might not
have to look at them a second time.

As the cart came up the old man rose from his seat and cried in a loud
voice, "I am Lirgandeo the magician."

And the cart passed on, without his saying another word. It was fol-
lowed by another of the same sort, and here, too, there was an old man
seated upon a throne, who, ordering them to halt the vehicle, cried in a
voice that was no less portentous than that of the one who had gone
before, "I am the sage Alquife, great friend of Urganda the Unknown."474
And he, like the other, went his way.

A third cart now passed; but in this case the one who was seated on
the throne was not an old man but a large robust fellow with an evil-
looking countenance, who, as he reached the spot, rose as the others
had done.

"I," he announced in a voice that was hoarser and more devilish than
those of his predecessors, "I am Archelaus, mortal enemy of Amadis of
Gaul and all his kin." And with these words he was gone.

When they were a short distance away the three carts came to a stop
and the monotonous rumble of their wheels was heard no more. Then
there came another sound, not a noise this time, but a soothing melody,
at which Sancho was greatly relieved, since he took it to be a good sign.
He remarked as much to the duchess, from whose side he had not stirred
one step.

"Lady," he said, "where there is music there cannot be anything evil."

"Or where there is light and brightness," replied the duchess.

"Fire gives light," said Sancho, "and brightness may come from bon-
fires, as we see from those all around us, which yet may burn us; but
music is always a sign of feasting and merrymaking."

"That remains to be seen," said Don Quixote, who had been listening
to all that was said. And he spoke truly, as will be clear from the follow-
ing chapter.



CHAPTER XXXV.

Wherein is continued the information that Don Quixote received
concerning Dulcinea's disenchantment, with other astonishing incidents.



TO THE sound of the pleasing strains they saw coming toward them
a cart, one of the kind known as triumphal chariots, drawn by six gray
mules with white linen trappings, and on each of them rode a penitent,475
likewise clad in white, with a lighted wax taper in his hand. This car or
chariot was twice, and even three times, as big as those that had gone
before, and on top and along the sides of it stood twelve other penitents,
in snow-white garb and with their tapers. It was an astonishing and at
the same time an awe-inspiring sight. Seated upon an elevated throne was
a nymph who wore countless cloth-of-silver veils, all of them glittering
with a countless number of embroidered gold spangles, which gave her,
if not a sumptuous, at least a showy appearance. Her face was covered
with a fine, transparent sendal, the warp of which did not prevent the
features of a most beautiful maiden from being discovered. In the light
of the many tapers her comeliness was revealed, and her age as well; she
was apparently not older than twenty nor younger than seventeen.

Beside the maiden was a figure wearing what is known as a robe of
state, which fell all the way down to its feet, while its head was covered
with a black veil. When the cart was directly opposite Don Quixote and
the ducal pair, the music of the flageolets ceased, and then that of the
flutes and harps on the car; whereupon the figure rose up, parted her
robe, and, removing the veil from her face, disclosed for all to see the
ugly, fleshless form of Death itself, which startled Don Quixote, filled
Sancho with terror, and even made the duke and duchess a little afraid.
Having risen to its feet, this living Death, in a somewhat sleepy voice
and with a tongue that was not quite awake, began reciting the follow-
ing verses:

　　　　　　"Merlin am I, who, so the histories say,
　　　　　　had the devil for a sire (it is a lie
　　　　　　that with the course of time hath stronger grown).
　　　　　　The prince of magic, monarch and archivist
　　　　　　of Zoroastric science, with unfriendly gaze
　　　　　　I view the ages and the centuries
　　　　　　that would conceal the deeds of high emprise
　　　　　　of brave and errant knights, toward whom I bear
　　　　　　a great affection, always, and esteem.
　　　　　　For granted that enchanters and their kind--
　　　　　　sages, magicians, call them what you will-
　　　　　　are mostly hard of heart, of temper stern,
　　　　　　my own heart's soft and tender, loving-kind,
　　　　　　and fond of doing good to one and all.
　　　　　　　　In Pluto's murky pit I was absorbed
　　　　　　in contemplation of the mystic shape
　　　　　　of geometric figures, when there came a voice,
　　　　　　the grief -filled voice of the ever beauteous
　　　　　　Dulcinea del Toboso without peer.
　　　　　　'Twas then l learned of her enchantment foul
　　　　　　and heard how she had been vilely transformed
　　　　　　from highbred lady into rustic wench.
　　　　　　My pity was aroused, I turned the leaves
　　　　　　of a hundred thousand books of demonic art,
　　　　　　then wrapped my spirit in the frightful shell
　　　　　　of this grisly skeleton and hied me here
　　　　　　to announce the remedy that must be had
　　　　　　for such a sorrow, such a dreadful wrong.
　　　　　　　　O thou, the pride and glory of all that wear
　　　　　　the knightly coat of adamantine steel,
　　　　　　O beacon-light, north star, pathfinder, guide
　　　　　　of all that would forsake the downy couch
　　　　　　and numbing sleep for the unbearable toil
　　　　　　of bloody combat and a warrior's life!
　　　　　　Be thou forever praised, O valiant one,
　　　　　　O Don Quixote, wise as thou art brave,
　　　　　　La Mancha's splendor and of Spain the star!
　　　　　　To thee I say that if the peerless maid,
　　　　　　Dulcinea del Toboso, is to be restored
　　　　　　to the state that once was hers, it needs must be
　　　　　　that thy squire Sancho on his bared behind,
　　　　　　those sturdy buttocks, must consent to take
　　　　　　three thousand lashes and three hundred more,
　　　　　　and well laid on, that they may sting and smart;
　　　　　　for those that are the authors of her woe
　　　　　　have thus resolved, and that is why I've come.
　　　　　　This, gentles, is the word I bring to you."

"For Heaven's sake!" cried Sancho, "I'd just as soon give myself
three stabs as three thousand lashes. To the devil with that kind of dis-
enchanting! I don't see what my backside has to do with it. By God, if
Senor Merlin hasn't found any other way of taking the spell off the
lady Dulcinea del Toboso, she can go to her grave that way!"

"What!" exclaimed Don Quixote. "I myself will take you, Don Gown
stuffed with garlic, and bind you to a tree, naked as when your mother
bore you, and I will give you not three thousand three hundred but six
thousand six hundred, and so well laid on that you will not be rid of
them though you rub yourself as many times as you have been sen-
tenced to have lashes. And say not a word in reply or I will snatch
your heart out."

"No," said Merlin when he heard this, "it cannot be that way; for
the lashes that the worthy Sancho is to receive must be inflicted of his
own free will and not by force. It may be done at any time he chooses,
there is no time limit set; but should he wish to spare himself half the
pain of this flogging, he may do so by permitting the strokes to be
given by the hand of another, even though it be a somewhat weighty
hand."

"Neither the hand of another nor my own hand nor weighty nor
weighable,"476 replied Sancho. "No one is going to lay a hand on me. Am
I, by any chance, the one that bore the lady Dulcinea del Toboso that
my backside should pay for the sins of her eyes--My master, yes, see-
ing that he's a part of her--for he is always calling her 'my life, my soul,'
his 'sustenance and support'--he may, and ought, to flog himself on her
account and do everything that is necessary to disenchant her, but as
for me, abernuncio!"477

No sooner had Sancho finished saying this than the silver-clad nymph
who accompanied Merlin's ghost stood up and, casting aside her thin
veil, disclosed what seemed to all of them a most beautiful face. With a
masculine assurance and a voice that was not precisely feminine, she
then began speaking directly to Sancho Panza.

"O wretched squire," she cried, "soul of a pitcher,478 heart of a cork
tree, with entrails of flint and pebbles! If, brazen thief, they ordered
you to hurl yourself down from a tall tower to the earth below; if thev
asked you, enemy of the human race, to swallow a dozen toads, two
lizards, and three snakes; if they wished you to slay your wife and
young ones with a deadly, keen-bladed scimitar--if any of these things
were required of you, it would be no wonder if you were squeamish
and loath to comply with such commands. But to make so much of three
thousand three hundred lashes, when every charity schoolboy,479 poor
lad, receives as many every month, is enough to amaze and confound the
bowels of compassion in all those who hear of such a thing or who may
come to know of it in the course of time.

"O miserable, hardhearted animal!" she went on, "turn those red-
owl's eyes of yours--turn them, I say, upon mine, which have been
compared to gleaming stars, and you will behold the tears flowing in
rivulets, making furrows, tracks, and bypaths in the fair fields of my
cheeks. Does it not move you, O crafty, ill-intentioned monster, that
the flower of my youth (for I am still in my teens, being a little under
twenty) should thus be consumed and wither away beneath the rude
bark of a country wench--If I do not appear in such a shape at this mo-
ment, that is owing to the special favor which Senor Merlin, here present,
has done me, with the sole thought that my beauty might soften your
heart. For the tears of a lovely woman in affliction have power to turn
stony cliffs into cotton and tigers into ewe lambs. Lay on, then, lay
on, O untamed beast! Flay that coarse hide of yours; rouse that energy
that you possess but that inclines you only to eat and eat again; and set
at liberty my own smooth flesh, my loving disposition, my beautiful
face. If for my sake you will not relent or come to reason, do so for
that poor knight at your side--I mean, your master. I can see his heart
right now, it is stuck in his throat not ten fingers from his lips and only
awaits your yielding or unyielding reply to leap forth from his mouth
or go back to his stomach."

At this point, Don Quixote felt his throat and turned to the duke.
"By God, sir," he said, "Dulcinea has spoken the truth. My heart is
stuck in my throat, like a crossbow nut."

"What do you say to that, Sancho?" asked the duchess.

"I say, my lady," he answered her, "just what I have said: so far as
lashes are concerned, abernu?icio!"

"Abremmcio, you mean to say, Sancho," the duke corrected him.

"Let me alone, your Highness," replied the squire. "I'm in no humor
for fine points just now and can't be bothered by a letter more or less.
Those lashes that they are to give me or that I have to give myself have
got me so upset that I don't know what I'm saying or doing. But what
I'd like the lady to tell me--my lady Dulcinea del Toboso--is where she
learned that way of asking for a favor. She comes to ask me to lay my
flesh open, and she calls me a soul of a pitcher and an untamed beast
and a string of other foul names that the devil himself wouldn't stand for.
Am I made of brass, do you think--What difference is it to me whether
she's disenchanted or not--Does she come bringing me a hamper of fine
linen, shirts, handkerchiefs, socks--even if I don't wear 'em--in order
to soften me--No, nothing but abuse heaped upon abuse, although she
knows that old saying in these parts, 'An ass laden with gold goes lightly
up the mountain,' and, 'Gifts break rocks,' and, 'Pray to God and ply
the hammer,'480 and, 'One "take" is better than two "I'll give you's."481

"And now," continued Sancho, "my master, who ought to stroke my
neck and pet me until I turn to wool and carded cotton, says that if he
gets hold of me he'll tie me naked to a tree and give me double the num-
ber of lashes. You kindhearted people ought to bear in mind that it's
not merely a squire but a governor that you're asking to have flogged,
just as if it was 'Have a drink with your cherries.' 482 Let them learn,
plague take it! Let them learn, I say, how to ask for something in the
right way and show they had some brirfging-up. They should know
that there is a time for everything,483 and people are not always in a good
humor. Here I am, feeling so bad I'm lit to burst at seeing my green
coat torn, and they come around asking me to flog myself of my own
free will, when I feel as much like doing that as I do like becoming an
Indian chief."484

"Well, the fact is, friend Sancho," said the duke, "that unless you
become softer than a ripe fig, you are not going to have that governor-
ship. It would be a fine thing for me to send to my islanders a cruel
governor, with bowels of stone, who would not yield to the tears of
damsels in distress or the entreaties of ancient, wise, and powerful en-
chanters and magicians. The short of it is, Sancho, either you whip
yourself, let them whip you, or give up all idea of being governor."

"Sir," replied Sancho, "can't they give me a couple of days to think
it over and decide what is best for me to do?"

"By no manner of means," said Merlin. "This matter must be settled
here, on the instant, and on this very spot: either Dulcinea goes back
to the Cave of Montesinos and her former peasant-girl state, or else she
will be conveyed as she is to the Elysian fields, there to wait until the
requisite number of lash strokes has been administered."

"Come, good Sancho," said the duchess, "pluck up your courage and
show a proper appreciation of your master Don Quixote's bread that
you have eaten; for we are all obligated to serve him and gratify his
wishes, by reason of his generous nature and high deeds of chivalry.
And so, my son, consent to this flogging, let the devil go to the devil,
and leave fear to little minds; for, as you well know, a stout heart breaks
bad luck."485

To this Sancho replied with the following foolish question, addressed
to Merlin. "Senor Merlin, will your Grace tell me this: after the devil
came running up here to hand my master a message from Senor Monte-
sinos, requesting him to wait here as he, Montesinos, was coming to ar-
range for Senora Dulcinea del Toboso's disenchantment, what hap-
pened, anyway--Up to now we've seen nothing of Montesinos or any
of his likes."

To which Merlin's answer was, "The devil, friend Sancho, is an ig-
norant wretch and a great scoundrel. I sent him to your master with a
message, not from Montesinos, but from me; for Montesinos is still in his
cave, expecting, or better, waiting for, his disenchantment, for there
is still the tail to be skinned.486 If he owes you anything or you have any
business w ith him, I'll fetch him for you and set him down wherever you
say; but for the present the thing to do is for you to consent to this
penance, which, I can assure you, will be very good for your soul as
well as your body: for your soul on account of the charitable impulse
that leads you to submit to it; and for your body because, as I happen
to know, you are of a sanguine disposition and a little blood-letting will
do you no harm."

"There are a lot of doctors in this world," remarked Sancho. "Even
the enchanters are doctors now. But since you all urge me to do it,
though I can't see it myself, I am willing to give myself those three
thousand three hundred lashes, on condition that I can lay them on
whenever I feel like it, without any limit on the days or the time. I'll
try to get out of debt as soon as possible, however, so that the world
may enjoy the beauty of my lady, Doha Dulcinea del Toboso; for it
appears that, contrary to what I thought, she really is beautiful after all.
Another condition must be that I am not to be obliged to draw blood
with that penance, and if some of the strokes happen to be fly-swatters,487
they are to be counted just the same. And here's another item: if I
should make a miscount, Senor Merlin, who knows everything, is to
keep track of them and tell me if I'm giving myself too few or too many."

"It will not be necessary for me to stop you from giving yourself
too many," said Merlin, "for when you have reached the proper num-
ber, the lady Dulcinea will be immediately disenchanted, and she will
be so grateful that she will come to seek out the worthy Sancho and
thank and reward him for his good work. So you do not need to
worry about too many or too few, since Heaven will not permit me to
cheat anyone out of so much as a hair of his head."

"Well, then," said Sancho, "it's in God's hands. I accept my hard
luck--I mean, I consent to the penance with the conditions that have
been laid down."

No sooner had he said this than the clarions struck up once more,
accompanied by a great firing of muskets, and Don Quixote threw his
arms about Sancho's neck, giving him a thousand kisses on the forehead
and on the cheeks. The duke and duchess and all the bystanders showed
that they were very pleased, and as the cart got under way once more
the beauteous Dulcinea bowed to the ducal pair and dropped a low
curtsy to Sancho.

With this, the merry-smiling dawn hastened her coming, the little
flowers in the fields lifted their heads, and the liquid crystal of the
brooks, murmuring over their white and gray pebbles, went to pay
tribute to the waiting rivers. The earth was joyous, the sky unclouded,
the air limpid, the light serene, and each of these things in itself and all
of them together showed that the day which was treading on the skirts
of morning was to be bright and clear. Satisfied with the results of the
chase and with having carried out their intention so cleverly and success-
fully, the duke and duchess now returned to their castle with the object
of following up the jest which had thus been begun, as there was no
serious occupation that gave them greater pleasure than this.



Chapter XXXVI.

Wherein is related the weird and never-before-imagmed adventure
of the Distressed Duenna, otherwise known as the Countess Tri-
faldi, together with a letter that Sancho Vanza wrote to his wife,
Teresa Panza.



THE duke had a major-domo who was of a very jovial and playful
disposition, and he it was who had impersonated Merlin and made all
the arrangements for the adventure that has just been described; he
had also composed the verses and had seen to having a page take the
part of Dulcinea. And so he now, with the assistance of his lord and
lady, proceeded to contrive an episode of the strangest and drollest sort
that could be imagined.

The duchess inquired of Sancho the next day if he had as yet begun
his penitential task which had to be performed in order to obtain
Dulcinea's disenchantment, and he replied in the affirmative, saying
that the night before he had given himself five lashes. When she wished
to know what he had given them with, he informed her that he had
made use of his hand.

'That," she said, "is slapping rather than flogging yourself, and it is
my belief that the wise Merlin will not be satisfied with such soft
measures. It will be necessary for the worthy Sancho to make himself
a scourge with prickles or employ a cat-o'-nine-tails--something that
can be felt--for learning enters with blood,488 and the liberty of so great
a lady as is Dulcinea is not to be granted for so small a price. Mark
you, Sancho, works of charity that are performed lukewarmly and
halfheartedly are of no merit but are, indeed, worthless."489

"If your Ladyship," replied Sancho, "will give me some proper kind
of strap or scourge, I will lay on with it, so long as it doesn't hurt too
much; for I would have you know that, though I am a countryman, my
flesh is more like cotton than it is like matweed, and it would not be a
good thing for me to ruin myself for another's gain."

"So be it," said the duchess. "I will give you tomorrow a scourge
that will suit you nicely, one that will accommodate itself to your
tender flesh like a sister."

"Lady of my soul," Sancho said to her at this point, "I would have
your Highness know that I have a letter written to my wife, Teresa
Panza, giving her an account of everything that has happened since
I left her. I have it here in my bosom; all it lacks is an address. I would
have your learned Highness read it, for it seems to me to be in true
governor style, I mean, the way governors ought to write."

"And who composed it for you?" inquired the duchess.

"I composed it myself, sinner that I am," replied Sancho.

"And did you write it out yourself?"

"That I did not, for I can neither read nor write, though I can sign
my name."

"Let us have a look at it," said the duchess. "I am certain that it shows
the quantity and quality of your wit."

Sancho drew out an unsealed letter and handed it to her. It read as
follows:


　　　　　　　　　　　SANCHO PANZA'S LETTER
　　　　　　　　　　TO TERESA PANZA, HIS WIFE

　　　　Though they gave me many good lashes, I went mounted like a fine
　　gentleman;490 if I have got a good government, it is costing me a good
　　flogging. You will not understand this for the present, my Teresa, but
　　later you will hear all about it. I want you to know, Teresa, that I
　　have made up my mind you are to go in a coach; that is how you
　　ought to go, for any other way of traveling is but creeping on all
　　fours. You are a governor's wife now; see that no one treads on your
　　heels!491 I am sending you here a green hunting suit that my lady the
　　duchess gave me; you can alter it so that it will make a petticoat and
　　bodice for our daughter.
　　　　Don Quixote, my master, according to what I hear in these parts,
　　is a madman with good sense, and a crackbrain who amuses people,
　　and I don't lag behind him. We have been in the cave of Montesinos,
　　and Merlin the magician has laid hold of me for the disenchantment
　　of Dulcinea del Toboso, who down our way is known as Aldonza
　　Lorenzo. With three thousand three hundred lashes minus five that
　　I have to give myself, she will be as much disenchanted as the mother
　　that bore her. Do not say anything about this to anyone; for if you
　　show your privates to other people, some will say they are white and
　　others will make them out to be black.492
　　　　In a few days from now I will be setting out for my government,
　　where I go with a great desire to make money, which they tell me
　　is the case with all new governors. I will see how things are and will
　　let you know whether you are to come and be with me or not. The
　　gray is well and sends you his warm regards. I don't mean to part
　　with him even though they take me away to be Grand Turk. My
　　lady the duchess kisses your hand a thousand times, so you must
　　return it with two thousand; for, as my master says, there is nothing
　　that costs less or comes cheaper than good manners. God has not seen
　　fit to provide me with another valise containing eight hundred crowns
　　as He did some time ago, but don't let that worry you, Teresa mine,
　　for the bell-ringer's in a safe place,493 and so far as the government is
　　concerned, it will all come out in the wash.494 The only thing is, I am
　　told that after I once try it I'll be eating my hands off for it,495 and
　　if that is the case, it will not come so cheap after all, though, to be
　　sure, the maimed and the crippled have their benefice496 in the alms
　　that they beg. And so, one way or another, you are going to be a rich
　　woman and a lucky one. God give you luck the best way He can and
　　keep me to serve you. From this castle, the twentieth of July 1614.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Your husband, the governor,
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Sancho Panza

"In a couple of respects," said the duchess, when she had finished
reading the letter, "the worthy governor goes a little astray. In the first
place, he states that this governorship was bestowed upon him in re-
turn for the strokes that he is to give himself, when he knows very
well--and he cannot deny it--that my lord the duke had promised it
to him before that flogging was ever thought of. And in the second
place, he shows himself to be too covetous; I would not have him be
a gold-seeker,497 for avarice bursts the bag,498 and where there is an
avaricious governor there is ungoverned justice."

"I don't mean it that way," said Sancho, "but if your Highness thinks
that the letter is not what it should be, there is nothing to do but tear
it up and write another, which may be an even worse one if it's left to
my gumption."

"No, no," protested the duchess, "this one is very good, and I wish
the duke to see it."

With this, they repaired to a garden where they were to dine that
day, and the duchess showed Sancho's letter to the duke, who was ex-
ceedingly amused by it. When they had finished their repast and the
cloth had been removed, they found entertainment for a while in listen-
ing to the squire's delightful conversation; and then, of a sudden, the
melancholy notes of a fife and the hoarse, discordant roll of a drum
fell upon their ears. They were all startled by this martial air which
was at the same time so dull and mournful-sounding, especially Don
Quixote, who was so excited he could not remain seated. As for Sancho,
there is nothing to be said except that fear took him to his accustomed
refuge, at the duchess's side or on the edge of her skirts; for, without
any exaggeration, that sound was a most depressing one.

As they waited in suspense, they saw coming toward them through
the garden two men clad in mourning robes so long and flowing that
they trailed upon the ground; and these two were beating large drums,
which were likewise covered in black. At their side came the fife player,
a pitch-black figure like the others, and the three of them were fol-
lowed by an individual of gigantic size, wrapped rather than clad in
a gown that was the blackest of all, with a skirt of enormous dimensions.
Over his gown this personage wore a wide baldric of the same hue,
from which dangled a huge scimitar, with black scabbard and trim-
mings. His face was covered with a dark veil through which could be
glimpsed a very long snow-white beard. He strode forward to the sound
of the drums with the utmost dignity and composure; and the effect of
it all--his size, his bearing, his somber appearance, and his retinue--
was to fill with amazement those who beheld him without knowing
who he was.

Clad in this manner and with the slow and measured pace that has been
described, the figure in black came up and knelt before the duke, who
with the others was standing to receive him. The duke, however, would
not permit him to speak until he had risen. The monstrous scarecrow
did so, and as he rose he cast aside the veil from his face, revealing the
most terrifyingly long, white, and bushy beard that human eyes had ever
seen: He then brought forth from the depths of his broad, capacious
chest a grave and sonorous voice, and, fixing his eyes upon the duke, he
began speaking:

"All-highest and mighty lord, I am called Trifaldin499 of the White
Beard, squire to the Countess Trifaldi, otherwise known as the Dis-
tressed Duenna, on whose behalf I bring your Highness a message. She
beseeches your Magnificence to be pleased to grant her authority and
permission to come in person and tell you of her plight, which is one of
the strangest, most astonishing cases that could be conceived, even by
those who are most familiar with the afflictions of this world. To begin
with, she would know if that valiant and never-conquered knight, Don
Quixote de la Mancha, is in this castle; for she has come on foot to
seek him, without once breaking her fast, all the way from the kingdom
of Candaya500 to this your realm, a thing which may and deserves to
be looked upon as a miracle, or else as something due to the power of
magic. She is now at the gate of this fortress or country-seat and only
awaits your pleasure that she may enter. I have spoken."501

The speaker coughed and stroked his beard from top to bottom with
both hands as he calmly waited for the duke's reply.

"Squire Trifaldin of the White Beard," said the duke, "it is now many
days since we heard of the plight of my lady, the Countess Trifaldi,
whom the enchanters have caused to be known as the Distressed Duenna.
You may bid her enter, O marvelous squire, and you may inform her
that the valiant knight, Don Quixote de la Mancha, is indeed here, in
view of whose generous disposition you may safely promise her all
aid and protection; and you may further say to her that if my own
assistance should be needed, it will not be lacking, for that is no more
than my duty as a knight requires of me, a knight being bound to show
favor to all women, and especially to widowed dames who have been
wronged and are in distress as her Ladyship appears to be "

Hearing these words, Trifaldin bent one knee to the ground; and then,
making a sign for the fife player and the drummers to strike up, he left
the garden at the same slow and solemn pace with which he had en-
tered it.

They all wondered at his presence and composure, and, turning to
Don Quixote, the duke said, "O famous knight, when all is done the
shades of malice and of ignorance cannot cover over or obscure the
light of valor or of virtue. What leads me to say this is the fact that it is
barely a week that your Excellency has been in this castle, yet already
the unhappy and the afflicted are coming from far and out-of-the-way
lands to seek you; and they come not in coaches of state or upon drome-
daries, but on foot and fasting, being confident that they will find in
that exceeding brave arm of yours the remedy for all their woes and
troubles, thanks to your great exploits which are famed throughout
the known world."

"I only wish, Senor Duke," replied Don Quixote, "that it were pos-
sible for that blessed priest I had at my table not long ago to be here
now, the one who was so ill-humored toward knights-errant and held
such a grudge against them. I should like him to see with his own eyes
whether or not knights-errant are needed in this world. He would at
least be able to perceive, and at first hand, that those who are suffering
extraordinary afflictions, those who are prey to some tremendous sor-
row, do not come for a remedy to the houses of the learned, nor to the
village sacristan, nor to the gentleman who never has set foot beyond
the bounds of his village, nor to the idling courtier who is more inter-
ested in news that he may talk about and pass on to others than he is
in performing deeds and exploits which others may relate and set down
in writing. It is, rather, in the persons of knights-errant that relief for
the afflicted, succor for those in need, protection for damsels, and con-
solation for widows are to be found. I thank Heaven with all my heart
that such a knight am I, and any hardship or misfortune that may come
to me in the exercise of so honorable a profession I look upon as well
worth while. Let this dame come and ask what she may; I will set her
at liberty through the strength that lies in my arm and in the undaunted
resolution of my stout heart."



CHAPTER XXXVII.

In which is continued the famous adventure of the Distressed Duenna.



The duke and duchess were greatly pleased to see how Don Quixote
had fallen in with their plan; and then Sancho spoke up.

"I hope," he said, "that this lady duenna will not put anything in the
way of my getting that government that has been promised me; for I
have heard a Toledo apothecary, who talked like a linnet, say that
whenever duennas were mixed up in something, nothing good could
come of it. God help me, but how he did have it in for them, that
apothecary! From which my conclusion is that, since all duennas, no
matter what their station or walk in life, are busybodies and nuisances,
what must they be like when they are distressed, as they say this
Countess Three Skirts,502 or Three Tails, is--For in my country skirts
and tails, tails and skirts, it's all one and the same thing."

"Be quiet, friend Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for, seeing that this
lady, the duenna, comes from distant lands to seek me, she cannot be
one of those that the apothecary had in mind; especially since she is a
countess, for when countesses serve as duennas, that means that they
wait upon queens and empresses, but in their own houses they are great
ladies themselves with other duennas to act as their servants."

Dona Rodriguez, who was among those present, now put in her
word. "My lady the Duchess," she said, "has in her service duennas
who might well have been countesses, if fate had so willed it. However,
laws go as kings like,503 and let no one speak ill of duennas, particularly
those elderly maiden ones; for although I am not one myself, I can see
the advantage which a maiden duenna has over a widow, but he who
clipped us kept the scissors."504

"For all of that," said Sancho, "when it comes to duennas, there's
so much to be clipped, according to what my barber505 tells me, that it
would be better not to stir the rice even though it sticks."506

"Squires," observed Doha Rodriguez, "are enemies of ours; and since
they haunt the antechambers and keep an eye on us every minute when
they're not saying their prayers, which is often enough, they spend
their time whispering about us, digging up our bones, and burying our
reputations. But I can inform these walking logs that we mean to go
on living in spite of them, and in great houses at that, even though we
die of hunger and cover our flesh, whether delicate or not, with a black
mourning robe, just as one covers over and conceals a dunghill with a
carpet on procession day. Faith, and if it were permitted me and time
allowed, I would prove not only to those present but to all the world
that there is no virtue that is not to be found embodied in a duenna."

I think, said the duchess, "that my good Dona Rodriguez is quite
right; but she will have to wait for another time to fight her battle and
that of the other duennas, to refute the ill opinion that is held of them
by that wicked apothecary, and to root out the prejudice against them
in the great Sancho Panza's breast."

But Sancho had an answer for her. "Ever since I had a whiff of that
governorship," he said, "I'm through with the notions of a squire and
don't give a wild fig for all the duennas that there are."

And so the duenna dispute would have continued had they not
heard the sound of the fife and drums once more, which told them that
the Distressed Duenna was entering the garden. The duchess thereupon
inquired of the duke if it would be the proper thing to go out to meet
her, seeing that she was a countess and an important personage.

"So far as her being a countess is concerned," remarked Sancho be-
fore the duke had a chance to reply,"1 am all for your Highnesses going
out to meet her, but regarding her as a duenna, I'm of the opinion that
you should not stir a step."

"Who asked you to meddle in this, Sancho?" Don Quixote wanted to
know.

"Who, sir?" answered Sancho. "I meddle of my own accord, and
well I may, as a squire who has learned the forms of courtesy in your
Grace's own school, you being the most courteous and best-bred knight
that there is in all the world of courtliness. And in these matters, as I've
heard your Grace say, as much is lost by a card too many as a card too
few,507 and to the good listener few words "508

"Sancho is right," said the duke. "We will see what this countess is
like, and we shall then be able to measure out to her the courtesy that is
her due."

At this point the fife and drums entered as they had before. And it is
here that the author ended this brief chapter to begin another con-
tinuing the same adventure, which is one of the most notable to be
found in the history.



Chapter XXXVIII.

Wherein is related what the Distressed Duenna had to say
concerning her misfortune.



Following the musicians who produced those mournful strains,
as many as a dozen duennas began filing into the garden. There were
two rows of them, and they were all clad in wide-flowing widow's
weeds, apparently made of milled serge.509 They also wore white hoods
of the thinnest cotton cloth,510 and so long that only the hems of their
robes could be seen. Behind these ladies came the Countess Trifaldi with
her squire, Trifaldin of the White Beard, leading her by the hand. Her
garment was of unnapped baize; and had it been napped, each tuft would
have stood out like one of those big Martos chickpeas.511 The tail or
skirt, or whatever you choose to call it, was a three-pointed one and
was borne by three pages, likewise in mourning, who with their mistress
formed a beautiful mathematical figure with three acute angles.

This led all the beholders to the conclusion that it must be on ac-
count of those three points that she was known as the Countess Trifaldi,
as one might say: the Countess of the Three Skirts, an opinion that is
supported by Benengcli, who asserts that the lady's right name was the
Countess Lobuna and that she was so called on account of the many
wolves512 in her country. If they had been foxes instead of wolves, she
would have been called the Countess Zorruna,513 it being the custom in
those parts for the nobility to derive their names from the thing or
things that were most abundant in their domains. And so this particular
countess, in honor of the new fashion in skirts that she had adopted,
ceased to be Lobuna and became Trifaldi.

The twelve duennas and the lady came on at processional pace, their
faces covered with black veils which were not transparent like Trifal-
din's but so heavy as to afford no glimpse of anything beneath them.
As soon as the little band had made its entrance, the duke and duchess
and Don Quixote rose to their feet, and all the others did the same as
they watched the slowly moving procession. The duennas then halted
and opened ranks, and the Distressed One advanced, still without letting
go of Trifaldin's hand. Seeing this, the ducal pair and the knight stepped
forward a dozen paces or so to receive their guest and she, dropping to
her knees, thereupon addressed them in a voice that was hoarse and rough
rather than fine and delicate.

"May your Highnesses be pleased not to show such courtesy to their
manservant--I mean, their handmaiden514--for I am too stricken with
grief to be able to make a fitting reply, owing to the strange, unheard-of
misfortune that has borne away my wits--I know not whither, but it
must be very far indeed, seeing that the longer I look for them the
farther I am from finding them."

"He would truly be a witless one, Lady Countess," replied the duke,
"who from a sight of your person did not at once discern your great
worth, which merits the cream of courtesy and the flower of well-
bred ceremony." And, taking her by the hand, he conducted her to a
seat beside the duchess, who received her with the utmost graciousness.

Don Quixote, meanwhile, was silent, but Sancho was dying to glimpse
Trifaldi's face and those of some of her duennas. This, however, was
out of the question until the ladies themselves, of their own free will,
should choose to disclose their features. A silence having fallen upon all
of them, they waited to see who would be the first to break it. It proved
to be the Distressed Duenna, with these words:

"O most powerful lord, most beautiful lady, and most discreet by-
standers, I am confident that my indescribable woe will meet with a
reception no less dispassionate than generous and sympathetic in your
valiant breasts; for it is such as to melt marble, soften diamonds, and
mollify the most steel-hardened hearts this world can show. But ere
it is made public in your hearing,515 I would have you inform me if there
be present in your midst, your group, or company, that knight im-
maculatissimus, Don Quixote de la Manchissima, and Panza, his squiris-
simus."516

At this point Sancho spoke up before anyone else had a chance to
reply. "Panza," he said, "is here, and Don Quixotissimus as well; and so,
Distressedissima Duennissima, you may say whatever you pleasissimus,
for we are all readissimus and preparedissimus to be of servissimus to
you."

Don Quixote then arose and, addressing the Distressed Duenna, spoke
as follows:

"If your woe, O grief-stricken lady, admits of any hope of remedy
through the valor and strength of arm of any knight-errant, here are
my arm and my courage which, though weak and insufficient, are wholly
at your service. I am Don Quixote de la Mancha, whose business it is
to succor all those who need my aid; and this being the case, as indeed
it is, my lady, there is no need of your appealing to our benevolence or
seeking to compose preambles; rather, you should tell us your troubles
plainly and without any circumlocution, for you have here listeners
who, if they cannot give you any help, will lend you at least a sym-
pathetic ear."

Hearing these words, the Distressed Duenna threw herself at Don
Quixote's feet and sought to embrace them. "O invincible knight," she
cried, "I cast myself down before these feet and legs as before the very
bases and pillars of knight-errantry. If I would kiss thy feet, it is be-
cause all the remedy for my misfortune hangs and depends upon the
steps that they may take, O valiant and errant one whose true exploits
leave far behind and eclipse the fabled ones of the Amadises, the Esplan-
dians, and the Belianises!"

Turning then to Sancho Panza, she took his hands and continued, "O
thou most loyal squire that ever served a knight-errant, either in the pres-
ent age or in times past, thou whose goodness is longer than the beard
of Trifaldin, my companion, here present! Well mayest thou pride
thyself upon the fact that in serving Don Quixote thou art figuratively
serving all that host of knights who have borne arms in this world. I
conjure thee, by all that thou owest to thine own goodness and loyalty,
kindly to intercede for me with thy master that he may show favor to
this humblest and most unfortunate of countesses."

"So far as my goodness is concerned, your Ladyship," replied Sancho,
"it makes little difference to me whether or not it is as long as your
squire's beard; what matters is that my soul should have a good beard
and mustache when it comes to leave this world; for whiskers here
below I don't give a rap.517 But without all this flattery and all this beg-
ging on your part, I will ask my master to favor and help your Grace in
any way he can--he likes me, and, what's more, he has need of me just
now in connection with a certain matter. So your Grace may go ahead
and unpack your troubles and tell us all about them, leaving the rest
of it to us, for we understand one another very well."

The duke and duchess were bursting with laughter at all this, for it
was they who had planned the adventure; and they congratulated them-
selves upon the clever acting of La Trifaldi, who, as she resumed her
seat, continued speaking.

"The famous kingdom of Candaya,"518 she said, "which lies between
great Trapobana519 and the Southern Sea, two leagues beyond Cape
orin,520 had for its sovereign Queen Dona Maguncia, widow of King
Archipiela, her lord and husband, and from their union sprang the In-
fanta Antonomasia,521 heiress to the realm. The said Infanta Antonomasia
grew up and was reared under my tutelage and direction, for I was her
mother's oldest and ranking duenna. By the time she had reached the
age of fourteen, her beauty was so perfect that nature's self could not
have improved upon it in any particular, nor is it to be supposed that
her mind was that of a child. She was, in fact, as intelligent as she was
lovely, and with her loveliness there was nothing in this world to com-
pare; and this is still true, unless it be that those envious sisters, the hard-
hearted Parcae, have severed her life thread; but that I cannot believe,
for Heaven would never permit so great a wrong to be done to earth
as would be the case if this unripe cluster from the fairest of vineyards
were to be plucked before its season.

"Endowed with such beauty as this, which my halting tongue can-
not fittingly praise, she was loved by princes, both native and foreign;
and in addition to these, there was a certain private gentleman at the
court who, trusting in his youth and elegance, his many graces and
accomplishments, and his ready and pleasing wit, dared to raise his eyes
to this heaven of pulchritude. For--if I am not boring you--I would
have your Highnesses know that he played the guitar in such a way
as to make it talk, and he was also a poet and a great dancer and could
make a birdcage so well that, if worst came to worst, he might have
earned his living in that fashion;522 and these are accomplishments suf-
ficient to lay low a mountain, not to speak of a tender maid.

"However, all his cleverness and grace of manner would have been
of little or no avail when it came to reducing the fortress of my young
mistress's heart had not the impudent rascal first taken the precaution
of subduing me, her guardian. Scoundrel and heartless vagabond that he
was, he strove to win my good will and induce me to comply with his
wishes, so that I, faithless warden, would hand him over the keys to the
castle which it was my duty to guard. The short of the matter is, he
flattered me and won me over with the gift of this or that little trinket;
but what really brought about my downfall was some verses that I heard
him singing one night through a street railing. If I remember rightly,
they went like this:

　　　　　　　　From that sweet enemy of mine
　　　　　　　　is born a woe that wounds my heart,
　　　　　　　　and what adds torment to its smart:
　　　　　　　　l must keep silent, make no sign,523

The words of the song were as pearls to me, and the singer's voice sweet
as sugar sirup; and ever since then, in view of the evil into which I have
fallen through these and other similar verses, I have been led to reflect
that poets ought to be banished from well-ordered states, as Plato ad-
vised,524 at least those that write amorous poetry, not couplets after the
manner of 'The Marquis of Mantua,'525 which are the delight of women
and children and bring tears to their eyes, but poems containing sharp-
pointed conceits526 that pierce the heart like soft thorns and, like the
lightning, wound it while leaving the body sound and clothed.

"Another time he sang:

　　　　　　　　Come, Death, so well disguised that l
　　　　　　　　thy nearing presence may not feel,
　　　　　　　　lest Life should once more on me steal,
　　　　　　　　when I find how sweet it is to die,527

There were other stanzas and refrains of the same sort, which cast a
spell over you when they are sung and hold you fascinated as you read
them. And when they condescend to compose a poem of the kind that
was once very popular in Candaya and that went by the name of segui-
dilla 528--ah! then it is that hearts frolic and laughter bursts forth, while
the body grows restless and all the senses finally turn to quicksilver.
And so I say, my lord and lady, that such troubadours as these should
rightfully be banished to the Lizard Islands.529

"Yet they, after all, are not to blame, but rather those simple-minded
ones that praise them and the foolish girls who believe them. And had
I been the good duenna that I ought to have been, I should not have
allowed myself to be moved by such labored conceits, nor should I
have believed that the poet was speaking the truth when he declared,
'I live dying, burn in ice, tremble in the fire, hope without hope, go and
stay,' along with other contradictory conceptions of this sort with
which their writings are filled. And when they come to promise the
Phoenix of Arabia, the crown of Ariadne, the horses of the Sun, the
pearls of the South, the gold of Tibar, and the balsam of Panchaia530--it
is then that they really let their pens go, seeing that it costs them little
to make a promise they never dream of fulfilling.

"But I am permitting myself to wander. Poor me! What folly, what
madness, is it that leads me to dwell on the faults of others when there
is so much to be said regarding my own--Ah, I was luckless once again!
It was not the verses that overcame me but my own simplicity; it was
not the music that softened me but my own levity. It was my great ig-
norance and want of caution that opened the road and cleared the path
that Don Clavijo was to tread--for that is the name of the gentleman in
question. With me as go-between, he made his way not once but many
times into the apartment of my deceived Antonomasia (deceived not
by him, but by me). He did this as her true husband; for, though I am
a sinner, I otherwise would never have consented even to his touching
the edge of her shoe soles. No, no, nothing like that; marriage comes
before anything else whenever I have such a business in hand! The
only trouble in the present instance was that they were so unequal in
rank, Don Clavijo being a mere private gentleman while the Infanta
Antonomasia was, as I have said, the heiress to the kingdom.

"For some time this entanglement remained a secret, carefully con-
cealed by the precautions that I took, until I perceived that a certain
swelling of Antonomasia's belly was bound to reveal it shortly. Fright-
ened by this, we held a consultation and decided that, before the affair
came to light, Don Calvijo should appear before the Vicar and ask for
Antonomasia's hand in marriage, bv virtue of a written promise to marry
him which she had made under my dictation and which was so bindingly
worded that not even Samson with all his strength would ever have
been able to break it. The proper steps were accordingly taken; the
Vicar was shown the agreement and, after hearing her confession, com-
mitted her to the house and custody of a highly respectable bailiff."

At this point Sancho put in a word. "So," he said, "in Candaya, too,
they have court bailiffs, poets, and seguidillas. I swear, the world is the
same all over! But hurry up, Seiiora Trifaldi, for it's getting late and
I'm dying to hear the end of this long story."

"I will do so," replied the countess.



CHAPTER XXXIX.

In which La Trifaldi goes on with her wondrous and memorable story.



EVERY word that Sancho uttered delighted the duchess and drove
Don Quixote to despair. The latter now ordered his squire to hold his
tongue, and the Distressed One then resumed her tale.

"After many questions and answers, with the infanta always standing
her ground, never varying from her original declaration, the Vicar
finally decided in favor of Don Clavijo and gave the princess to him
as his lawful wife, at which the queen, Dona Maguncia, the infanta's
mother, was so grieved that within three days' time we had buried her."

"She died, no doubt," put in Sancho.

"Obviously," replied Trifaldin. "In Candaya we do not bury people
alive, only the dead ones."

"I, Sir Squire," Sancho answered him, "have seen them, before now,
bury a person who had no more than fainted, in the belief that he was
dead; and it seems to me that Queen Maguncia ought to have fainted
rather than died, for in this life there are so many things that come out
all right in the end that she ought not to have felt so bad over the fool-
ish thing the infanta did. If the young lady had married some page or
other household servant as many others have done, or so I've heard
tell, there'd have been no repairing the damage; but for her to have mar-
ried such a fine gentleman as you say this one is--well, while it may
have been a piece of foolishness, it was not so big a one as you seem
to think. For, according to the rules laid down by my master, who is
here present and will not let me lie, just as they make bishops out of
men of learning, so may knights, especially if they be errant ones, be-
come kings and emperors."

"Right you are, Sancho," said Don Quixote. U A knight-errant, if he
has two fingers' worth of luck, has it in his power to become the great-
est lord on earth. But let the Distressed Lady go on with her story; for
I have an idea that she has yet to tell us the bitter part of this tale that
up to now has been a pleasing one."

"What is to come is indeed bitter," replied the countess; "so bitter that
by comparison the colocynth is sweet and the oleander savory. The
queen, then, died--she did not faint--and we buried her; and no sooner
had we covered her with earth and said the last farewell when, quis
talia fando temperet a lacrimis?531 over the queen's grave there appeared,
mounted upon a wooden horse, Malambruno, Maguncia's first cousin,
who is not merely a cruel being but an enchanter as well. In order to
punish Don Clavijo for his rashness and avenge his cousin's death, and
also out of spite over Antonomasia's stubbornness, Malambruno there-
upon, by the exercise of his magic arts, proceeded to cast a spell upon
the two of them and left them there upon the grave itself, the infanta
having been transformed into a female ape while her lover had become
a crocodile made of some unknown metal, with a pillar, also of metal,
standing between them, bearing an inscription in Syriac characters that,
translated into the Candayan, and now into the Castilian, read as follows:

"'These two rash lovers shall not regain their former shape until the
valiant Manchegan shall come to meet me in singlchanded encounter,
since it is for his great valor alone that the fates have reserved this
unheard-of adventure.' 532

"Saying this, he drew forth from its scabbard an enormous broad-
bladed scimitar and, seizing me by the hair, pretended that he was go-
ing to slash my throat and cut off my head. I was so frightened and dis-
tressed that my voice stuck in my throat, but, nevertheless, I forced
myself to exert what strength I had, and in a trembling, sorrow-filled
voice I pleaded with him so long and in such a way as to lead him to
suspend execution of so rigorous a sentence. Finally he had them bring
before him all the palace duennas, who are the ladies that you see here;
and, after having spoken in exaggerated terms of our offense, holding
them all guilty where I alone was to blame, and railing against duennas
in general and their evil schemes and plottings, he went on to say that
he did not choose to inflict a capital punishment upon us but preferred a
more long-drawn-out penalty such as would leave us in a perpetual
state of civil533 death.

"At the very moment, the very instant, that he said this, we felt the
pores of our faces opening, as if our countenances were being pricked
all over with needle points, and when wc put our hands up to see what
the trouble was, we found ourselves in the condition in which you see
us now."

With this, the Distressed One and all the other duennas raised their
veils, revealing faces covered with heavy beards, some red, some black,
some white, and some grizzled, at sight of which the duke and duchess
feigned astonishment, while Don Quixote and Sancho were truly as-
tounded and all the others present were filled with wonder.

"Such was the punishment," continued La Trifaldi, "which that
malign scoundrel, Malambruno, meted out to us, by covering our soft
white faces with these coarse bristles. Oh, would to Heaven that he
had cut off our heads with that monstrous scimitar of his in place of
dimming the light of our countenances with these wool-combings that
cover them! For, gentle folk, if we stop to consider the matter--and l
wish my eyes could weep like fountains as an accompaniment to what
I am about to say; but, alas, I have brooded so long upon our woes and
have already wept so many oceans of brine that these orbs are now as
dry as beards of wheat, and so I must tell it without tears--as I was say-
ing, then, where is a bearded duenna to go, what father or mother will
take pity on her, who will aid her--For even if she have a smooth face,
one that has been martyred by a countless variety of cosmetics, it is
hard enough to find someone to care for her; and what will happen when
she discloses a visage that is like a wood or a thicket--O ye duennas,
companions of mine, it was indeed an unlucky moment, an unfortu-
nate hour, when our parents did beget us!"

As she said this, she seemed about to swoon away.



CHAPTER XL.

Of things relating and pertaining to this adventure
and this memorable history.



REALLY and truly, all those who enjoy such histories as this one
ought to be grateful to Cid Hamete, its original author, for the pains
he has taken in setting forth every detail of it, leaving out nothing, how-
ever slight, but making everything very clear and plain. He describes
thoughts, reveals fancies, answers unasked questions,534 clears up doubts,
and settles arguments. In short, he satisfies on every minutest point the
curiosity of the most curious. O author celebrated above all others! O
fortunate Don Quixote! O famous Dulcinea! O droll Sancho Panza!
May all of you together and each of you separately live for unnum-
bered centuries, for the delight and general pastime of your fellow-
men!

The history then goes on to inform us that as soon as he saw the Dis-
tressed One in a swoon, Sancho Panza spoke up. "By the faith of an
honest man," he exclaimed, "and the souls of all the Panzas that have
gone before me, I swear that I have never seen nor heard of such an ad-
venture as this, nor has my master ever thought up such a one or told
me of anything like it. A thousand devils take you, Malambruno--not
that I mean to curse you--for the enchanter and the giant that you are!
Couldn't you have found any other kind of punishment for these lady
sinners that you had to put beards on them--Wouldn't it have been bet-
ter for them if you had slit their noses down the middle, even if, as a
result of it, they did sniffle when they talked--And I'll bet they do not
even have the price of a shave!"535

"That is the truth, sir," replied one of the twelve, "we have not the
money for that purpose, and some of us accordingly have resorted to
the use of sticking plasters; by applying them to our faces and pulling
them off with a jerk, we are left as smooth and bare as the bottom of a
stone mortar,536 It is true that we have in Candaya women who go from
house to house, removing hair, trimming eyebrows, and making cos-
metics,537 but we, my lady's duennas, never would admit them to our pres-
ence, as they have about them the third-rate odor of women who have
come down in the world.538 And so, if Senor Don Quixote does not lend
us help, we shall carry these beards to our graves."

"I will pluck out my own beard," said Don Quixote, "in the land of
the Moors, if I do not do something about those that you wear."

At this juncture La Trifaldi recovered from her swoon. "The echo of
that promise, O valiant knight," she said, "has reached my ears even as
I lay in a faint; it is, indeed, the thing that has enabled me to recover
my senses. And so I beg you once more, O renowned errant and in-
domitable lord, let your gracious promise be converted into deeds."

"It will be no fault of mine if there is any delay," was Don Quixote's
answer. "Tell me, lady, what it is I have to do, for my stout heart is ready
and at your service."

"As it happens," said the Distressed One, "the distance from here to
the kingdom of Candava, if one goes by land, is five thousand leagues,
a couple more or less, but if one goes by air and in a straight line, it is
three thousand two hundred twenty-seven. I must further inform you
of what Malambruno told me: that whenever fate should provide me
with a knight who would seek to free me, he himself would send a
mount much better and less skittish than those that are to be had for
hire;539 for the mount in question is none other than that same wooden
horse upon which the valiant Pierres carried off the beauteous Maga-
lona.540 This steed is guided by means of a peg that he has in his forehead,
which serves as a bridle, and he goes through the air at such a speed that
it seems as if the very devils themselves must be carrying him.

"This horse," she went on, "according to ancient tradition, was cre-
ated by Merlin the Sage. He lent him to his friend, Pierres, who upon
his back made long journeys and, as I have said, bore off the fair Maga-
lona, leaving all those that beheld them from the earth gaping with as-
tonishment. He never permitted anyone to make use of the steed un-
less it was someone he dearly loved or who paid him dearly, and no
mortal that we know of, save the great Pierres, has mounted him from
that day to this. Malambruno, through his arts, contrived to get pos-
session of him and employs him in the journeys which he is all the time
making here and there throughout the world. He is here today and to-
morrow in France, and the next day in Potosi and the best of it is, this
horse neither eats nor sleeps nor does he have to be shod. Without wings,
he ambles through the air so smoothly that his rider can carry a cup
full of water in his hand without spilling a single drop; for which reason
it was, the fair Magalona was very fond of riding him."

"When it comes to smooth ambling," said Sancho at this point, "give
me my gray. He doesn't go through the air, but on the ground I'll back
him against all comers."

They all had a good laugh, and then the Distressed One continued,
"And this horse that I am telling you of, if Malambruno is of a mind
to put an end to our sufferings, will be here in our presence within half
an hour after night has fallen; for such, he told me, was to be the sign
by which I should know that I had found the champion I was seeking.
As soon as I had found him, the mount was to be sent to me with all
speed."

"And how many can ride him?" Sancho inquired.

"Two persons," was the reply, "one on the saddle and the other on
the crupper. Usually those two persons are a knight and his squire, unless
some maiden is being carried off "

"And what is this horse's name?"

"His name," said the Distressed One, "is not that of Bellerophon's
horse, which was called Pegasus; nor is it Bucephalus, like that of Alex-
ander the Great's steed; nor Brigliador, as Orlando's mount was known;
nor Bayard, after that of Rinaldo of Montalban; nor Frontino, after
that of Ruggiero; nor Bootes or Peritoa, which, they say, were the names
of the horses of the Sun; nor is he called Orelia, after the horse on which
the unfortunate Rodrigo, last king of the Goths, rode into battle where
he lost his life and kingdom."

"I will bet you," said Sancho, "seeing they haven't given him any of
the famous names of well-known horses, they never thought of naming
him after my master's Rocinante either, though when it comes to an all-
around mount, he has it over all those that you have mentioned."

"That is true enough," replied the bearded countess, "but the name
that he does have fits him very well; for he is called Clavileno the Swift,
due to his being made of wood with a peg in his forehead541 and the
speed at which he travels. And thus, so far as his name goes, he may
very well compete with the famous Rocinante."

"I don't mind the name," said Sancho, "but what kind of bridle or
halter do you use to control him?"

"I have told you," said La Trifaldi, "that the knight who rides him
directs him this way or that by turning the peg. It may be through the
air or skimming, one might say sweeping, the earth, or else he may take
that middle course that is to be sought out and adhered to in all well-
regulated actions."542

"That I should like to see," said Sancho, "but to think for one min-
ute that I'm going to mount him, either in the saddle or on the crupper,
is to ask pears of the elm tree.543 A fine thing that would be! Why, it is
all I can do to hold on to my gray, seated on a packsaddle that is softer
than silk itself; and now they'd have me straddle a wooden crupper
without a pad or cushion of any kind! By Heaven, I don't intend to
bruise myself to get rid of anyone's beard; let each one shave himself
the best way he can, I don't mean to accompany my master on any long
journey like that. And, anyhow, I can't help as much with the shaving
of those beards as I can with the disenchanting of my lady Dulcinea."

"Yes, you can, my friend," said La Trifaldi. "Indeed, without your
presence I do not think we shall be able to accomplish anything."

"In the king's name," cried Sancho, "what have squires to do with
the adventures of their masters--Are they to get all the fame for what
they accomplish while we do all the work--Body of me! If the his-
torians would only say, 'Such and such a knight brought such and such
an adventure to a successful conclusion, with the aid of So-and-So, his
squire, without whom it would have been impossible?' But no, they
simply write down, 'Don Paralipomenon of the Three Stars accom-
plished the adventure of the six monsters,' without so much as men-
tioning the squire, who was present all the time, just as if he didn t exist!
And so, ladies and gentlemen, I tell you once more: my master may go
alone if he likes, and much good may it do him, but I am going to stay
right here, in the company of my lady the duchess; and it may be that
when he comes back he will find the lady Dulcinea s affair greatly ad-
vanced, for in my leisure moments I mean to give myself a batch of
lashes without a hair to cover me."544

"Nevertheless," said the duchess, "you will have to go along if neces-
sary, my worthy Sancho; for these are good people that ask it of you,
and besides, the faces of these ladies must not remain in such a condition
and all on account of your foolish fears. It would indeed be a pity if that
were to happen."

"In the king's name again!" exclaimed Sancho. "If he was asked to
do this for some modest, retiring damsels or charity girls, a man might
venture to put himself to a little trouble; but to ask him to suffer in order
to rid duennas of their beards--devil take it, no! I'd rather see them all
with beards, from the highest to the lowest and from the most prudish
to the most simpering of the lot."

"You certainly have it in for duennas, Sancho, my friend," remarked
the duchess. "You seem to be very much of the same opinion as that
Toledo apothecary, but, upon my word, you are wrong. There are in
my household some most excellent ladies of this sort, and here is Dona
Rodriguez, who will not permit me to say anything else."

"Your Excellency may say what you like," replied Rodriguez, "for
God knows the truth of every matter, and good or bad, bearded or
smooth-faced, we are our mothers' daughters just like other women, and
it was God who sent us into this world. He knows why He did so, and
I cling to His mercy and not to anybody's beard."

"Well, Senora Rodriguez," said Don Quixote, "and Senora Trifaldi
and company, I trust to Heaven to look with favoring eye upon your
woes. As for Sancho, he will do as I bid him. Let Clavileno come that
I may meet Malambruno face to face; for I can assure you that no
razors would shave you ladies as easily as my sword will shave Malam-
bruno's head from his shoulders. God may suffer the wicked for a time
but not forever."

"Ah," exclaimed the Distressed One, "may all the stars of the celestial
regions gaze down upon you, O valiant knight; may they infuse your
heart with courage and prosper your undertaking, that you may be
the shield and protector of the downtrodden and much maligned race
of duennas, which is abominated by apothecaries, slandered by squires,
and made sport of by pages. Woe to the wench who in the flower of
her youth would not sooner become a nun than one of us! Ah, how
unfortunate we are! Even though we be descended in direct male line
from Trojan Hector himself, our mistresses never fail to address us with
a vos if they think that will make them queens!545 O giant Malambruno,
you may be an enchanter but you keep your promises most faithfully.
Send us now the unequaled Clavileno, that our misfortunes may come
to an end; for if the hot weather sets in and our beards are with us
still, we shall be in a very bad way."

This was said with such feeling as to bring tears from the eyes of all
the bystanders, and even from Sancho, who resolved in his heart that
he would accompany his master to the end of the world, if it had to be
done in order to remove the wool from those venerable countenances.



CHAPTER XLI.

Of the coming of Ciavileno, with the conclusion
of this long-drawn-out adventure.



Night came on, and with it the appointed moment at which the
famous steed, Ciavileno, was to arrive. Don Quixote was uneasy over
the animal's delay in making an appearance; for it seemed to him that,
if Malambruno was slow in sending the mount, it must mean either that
the adventure was reserved for some other knight, or that the enchanter
did not dare come forth to engage in single combat. These thoughts
were running through his mind, when, lo and behold! four wild men
clad in green ivy546 entered the garden, bearing upon their shoulders a
great wooden horse. Having deposited it upon the ground, one of the
savages addressed the company.

"Let him who has the courage," he said, "mount this contrivance."

"I am not going to mount," said Sancho, "for I have not the courage,
nor am I a knight."

"And let his squire, if he has one," the wild man went on, "seat him-
self upon the crupper, putting his trust in the valiant Malambruno, for
he need fear no other sword or wile of any sort.547 There is nothing to do
but give a twist to this peg on the horse's neck548 and he will carry them
through the air to where Malambruno waits. But lest the great altitude
should cause them dizziness, they must cover their eyes until they hear
him neigh, which will be the sign that they have reached the end of
their journey."

Saying this, they gracefully retired the way they had come, leaving
Ciavileno behind them. The moment she caught sight of the horse, the
Distressed One turned to Don Quixote and, on the verge of tears, said to
him, "O valiant knight, the promises of Malambruno are to be de-
pended upon, the steed is here, our beards are growing; and each one of
us, by every hair in those same beards, herewith beseeches you to shave
and shear us, to accomplish which you have but to mount this horse,
along with your squire, and make a happy beginning of your new
journey."

"That I will do, Senora Countess Trifaldi," said Don Quixote, "and
with right good will. I will not even lose time by looking for a cush-
ion or putting on my spurs, so great is my desire to see you, my lady,
and all the other duennas clean-shaven as you should be."

"That I will not do," declared Sancho, "good will or ill will, it makes
no difference. If this shaving business can be accomplished only by my
getting up on the crupper, my master can very well look for another
squire to go with him, and these ladies can find some other way of mak-
ing their faces smooth again. I am no wizard to go flying through the
air like that. What will my islanders say when they hear that their
governor is going out for a stroll on the winds--And there's something
else: seeing that it is three thousand odd leagues from here to Candaya, if
the horse should tire or the giant become vexed, it would take us half
a dozen years to get back again, and there won't be isle or islander549 in
the world that will know who I am. It's a common saying that there's
danger in delay, and when they offer you a heifer, run with the halter.550
Begging the pardon of these ladies' beards, St. Peter is very well off in
Rome.551 By which I mean to say, I'm very well off in this house where
everyone treats me so well, and whose master, I hope, is going to be
so good as to make me a governor."

"Friend Sancho," said the duke, "the island that I promised you is not
a movable one, nor is it likely to fly away; it has roots so deeply sunken
in the bowels of the earth that it is not to be torn up or so much as
budged by a few stout pulls. What is more, you know as well as I do
that there is no office of any importance that is not obtained through
some sort of bribe, great or small; and what I ask in exchange for this
governorship is that you accompany your master, Don Quixote, so that
he may be able to bring this memorable adventure to a conclusion. And
whether you come back mounted on Clavileno, with all the speed that
is to be expected of him, or whether contrary fortune brings you back
as a pilgrim, on foot, going from inn to inn, whenever you do return
you will find your island where you left it and your islanders with the
same desire of having you for their governor that they always had, nor
will I have changed my mind on the subject. And so, Senor Sancho, do
not doubt the truth of what I tell you, for that would be to do me a
grievous wrong when I am so eager to be of service to you."

"Sir," replied Sancho, "you need say no more. I am but a poor squire
and do not know how to return such courtesy in the proper way. Let my
master mount, then, cover my eyes, pray God for my soul, and tell me
if, when we are away up there on high, it is all right for me to call upon
Our Lord and ask the angels to protect me."

"You may pray to God or anyone you like, Sancho," said Trifaldi;
"for although Malambruno is an enchanter, he is a Christian and very
sagacious and circumspect in the practice of his art, taking care not to
meddle with other people's concerns."

"Well, then," said Sancho, "God help me, and the Holy Trinity of
Gaeta!"552

"Since the memorable adventure of the fulling mills," observed Don
Quixote, "I have never seen Sancho so frightened as he is now; and if
I were as much given to omens as others are, his pusillanimity would
shake my own courage a bit. However--Come here, Sancho; with the
permission of these ladies and gentlemen I should like to have a couple
of words with you."

With this, he led the squire to one side, among some of the garden
trees, and there, taking both of his hands, spoke to him as follows:

"You are aware, brother Sancho, of the long journey that awaits us.
God knows when we shall return or how much leisure it will allow
us; and so I wish you would retire to your room as if you were seek-
ing something that is needed for the road, and there in a twinkling pay
something on account toward those three thousand three hundred lashes
that you are supposed to give yourself, even if it be no more than five
hundred for the present. It will be just so many of them out of the way,
and a thing well begun is half done."553

"By God," exclaimed Sancho, "your Grace must be out of your
mind! As the saying has it, you see me pregnant and you want me a
virgin. Here, I'm supposed to go seated on a bare board and you'd have
me skin my backside before I start! No, no, your Grace is all wrong.
Let us go now and see to shaving those duennas, and when we come
back, I give you my word, I'll make such haste to fulfill my obligation
that your Grace will be more than satisfied. That is all I have to say."

"Well, my good Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "I shall console my-
self with that promise; and I believe you will keep it, too, for while
you may be a simpleton, you are really a trusty fellow.

"I'm not rusty," said Sancho, "only sunburned;554 but even if I was a
little of each, I'd still keep my word."

With this, they came back to mount Clavileno; and as they did so Don
Quixote said, "Cover your eyes, Sancho, and take your place; for he
who is sending us to such far lands cannot be doing it merely to deceive
us, inasmuch as there would be little glory for him in thus tricking those
who had put their trust in him. And even though everything should
go contrary to what I expect, the honor of having undertaken such an
exploit is such as no malice could dim."

"Let us go, sir," Sancho answered him, "for the beards and tears of
these ladies are more than my heart can bear, and I shall not eat a bite
that agrees with me until I have seen them smooth-faced as they were
before. Mount, then, your Grace, but be sure to blindfold yourself. If
I am to ride the crupper, it is plain that the one in the saddle must be
the first to mount."

"That is true enough," Don Quixote agreed. And, taking a handker-
chief from his pocket, he asked the Distressed One to cover his eyes
very carefully; but no sooner had this been done than he uncovered
them.

"If I remember rightly," he said, "I have read something in Vergil
about that Trojan Palladium,555 which was a wooden horse that the
Greeks offered to the goddess Pallas, and which, being pregnant with
armed knights, was later the ruination of Troy. For this reason, I think
it would be a good thing to see what Clavileno has in his belly."

"There is no need of that," said the Distressed One. "I will vouch for
him. I know that Malambruno is in no wise treacherous or malicious;
and, accordingly, Senor Don Quixote, your Grace may mount without
any hesitancy whatsoever, and may it be on my head if anything hap-
pens to you."

The knight felt that anything he might say regarding his safety would
but cast doubt upon his valor; and so, without any further argument,
he mounted Clavileno. Trying the peg, he discovered that it turned very
easily; and as he sat there, with no stirrups and his legs hanging down,
he looked like nothing so much as a figure in some Roman triumph,
painted or woven upon a Flemish tapestry. Against his will and little
by little, Sancho climbed up and made himself as comfortable as he could
on the crupper, which he found to be quite hard; whereupon he asked
the duke if it would not be possible to provide him with a pillow or
cushion, even though they had to take one from the couch of my lady
the duchess or from some page's bed; for the flanks of this horse seemed
to him more like marble than they did like wood.

At this point Trifaldi spoke up, saying that Clavileno would not en-
dure any kind of trappings and that the best thing for the squire to do
was to sit sideways so that he would not feel the hardness so much.
Sancho did as she advised, and, bidding them farewell, he let his eyes
be bandaged. He promptly removed the cloth, however, and, gazing
tenderly and tearfully at all those in the garden, begged them to aid
him in his present trouble with plenty of Hail Marys and Our Fathers,556
so that God might provide someone to do the same for them when
they should find themselves in such straits.

"Thief," exclaimed Don Quixote, "are you by any chance on the gal-
lows or at death's door that you resort to such entreaties--Are you not,
soulless and cowardly creature, in the very spot that the beauteous Maga-
lona occupied and from which she descended, not to her grave, but to
become queen of France,557 unless the histories lie--And I here at your
side, am I not on a par with the brave Pierres, who sat in this same sad-
dle where I now sit--Cover your eyes, you spiritless animal, cover them
I say, and do not give voice to your fears, at least not in my presence."

"Let them go ahead and blindfold me," said Sancho; ' but since you
won't allow me to commend myself or be commended to God, is it any
wonder if I'm afraid we may be going to some region of devils558 who
will make off with us to Peralvillo?"559

When their eyes had been covered and Don Quixote had settled him-
self to his satisfaction, the knight tried the peg, and no sooner had he laid
hands upon it than the duennas and all the others there present began
calling out to them, "God guide you, valiant knight! God be with you,
intrepid squire! Now, now, you are going through the air, swifter than
a dart! Already those below are gazing up at you in astonishment! Try
not to sway so much, brave Sancho; see to it that you do not fall, for
your fall would be worse than that of the rash youth who sought to
drive the chariot of his father, the Sun!

Sancho, meanwhile, was clinging tightly to his master, with his arms
about him. "Senor," he asked, "what do they mean by saying that we
are riding so high when their voices can reach us just as plainly as if
they were right alongside us?"

"Think nothing of that, Sancho," said the knight, "for such flights as
these are out of the ordinary course of events, and at a distance of a
thousand leagues you can still see and hear anything you like. And do
not squeeze me so much or you will throw me off. There is really no
reason for you to be disturbed or frightened, for I can swear that in all
the days of my life I never had an easier-going mount. It is as if we
never stirred from one spot. Banish all fear, my friend, for the truth is,
everything is going as it should and we have the wind to our poop."

"So we do," replied Sancho. "On this side its as strong as if they
were blowing on me with a thousand pairs of bellows.

This was the truth, for a number of large bellows were producing the
breeze in question. The whole adventure had been so thoroughly planned
by the duke and duchess and their major-domo that not a single essen-
tial detail was lacking to make it perfect.

"Without any doubt, Sancho," remarked Don Quixote as he felt the
puff, "we must have reached the second aerial region, where the snow
and hail are produced; it is in the third region that the thunder and
lightning are engendered, and if we keep on ascending at this rate, we
shall soon be in the region of fire. I do not know how to control the
peg to keep us from mounting so high that the flames will scorch us."

Even as he said this they felt a warmth upon their faces, which came
from pieces of tow, easy to ignite and to extinguish, suspended from
the end of a reed held at some distance from them.

"May they slay me," said Sancho, "if we're not already in that fiery
place, or somewhere very near it, for a good part of my beard is singed
already. I've a mind, master, to take a peep and see where we are."

"Don't do that," Don Quixote advised him. "Remember that true
story they tell about the licentiate Torralba,560 whom the devils carried
through the air upon a reed, with his eyes shut; in twelve hours' time
he arrived in Rome and dismounted at Torre di Nona, which is a street
in that city,561 where he witnessed the rioting, the assault, and the death
of Bourbon;562 and by the next morning he was back in Madrid to give
an account of all he had seen. He himself stated that as he was sailing
through the air the devil ordered him to open his eyes, which he did,
only to discover he was so near the body of the moon that, as it seemed
to him, he could put out his hand and take hold of it, and he did not
dare look down at the earth or it would have made him dizzy.

"And so, Sancho," the knight concluded, "there is no good reason
why we should uncover our eyes, since he who has us in charge will
take care of us. It may be that we are merely gaining altitude in order
to swoop down upon the kingdom of Candaya as the saker or the fal-
con does upon the heron, that he may be able to seize the bird no mat-
ter how high it may soar.563 And although it seems to us that it has not
been a half hour since we left the garden, believe me, we must have
gone a very long way."

"I do not know as to that," said Sancho. "All I can say is that if that
Senora Magallanes564 or Magalona found any pleasure in riding this crup-
per, she couldn't have had very tender flesh."

The entire conversation of the two brave horsemen was heard by
the duke arid duchess, who were extremely amused by it; and, wishing
to put a finishing touch to this extraordinary and well-planned adven-
ture, they now set fire to Clavileno's tail with some bits of tow, where-
upon the horse, which was filled with detonating rockets, at once blew
up with a loud noise, hurling Don Quixote and Sancho Panza to the
ground half scorched.

By this time the entire band of bearded ladies, La Trifaldi and all the
others, had disappeared from the garden, and those that remained lay
stretched out on the ground as if unconscious. The knight and his squire
rose, rather the worse for wear, and, glancing about them in all di-
rections, were very much astonished to find themselves back in the
same garden from which they had started, with all those people pros-
trate on the earth. And their wonder grew as, at one side of the gar-
den, they caught sight of a long lance that had been thrust into the
ground, with a smooth white parchment hanging from it by two silken
cords. Upon the parchment, written in large gilt letters, was the fol-
lowing inscription:

The renowned knight, Don Quixote de la Mancha, merely by under-
taking it, has finished and concluded the adventure of the Countess
Trifaldi, otherwise known as the Distressed Duenna. Malambruno is
satisfied in every way,565 the faces of the duennas are once more smooth
and clean, King Clavijo and Queen Antonomasia have been restored to
their former state, and as soon as the squirely flogging shall have been
completed, the white dove shall be free of the annoying gerfalcons that
persecute it and shall return to the arms of its beloved mate. For it is so
ordered by Merlin the Sage, proto-enchanter of enchanters.

Having read the inscription, Don Quixote understood clearly that it
had reference to the disenchantment of Dulcinea; and, giving thanks
to Heaven with all his heart that he had been able to achieve so great a
deed at so little peril, thus restoring to the venerable but no longer visi-
ble duennas their former countenances, he went over to where the duke
and duchess lay, still in a state of unconsciousness.

"Ah, my worthy lord," he said, taking the duke's hand, "be of good
cheer--be of good cheer, for it is all over now! The adventure is fin-
ished and no harm done, as the inscription on that post yonder plainly
shows."

Little by little, like one coming out of a deep slumber, the duke re-
covered his senses, and the same was true of the duchess and all the
others there in the garden who had fallen to the ground; and they all gave
such evidence of wonder and astonishment as almost to convince any-
one who saw them that the thing they pretended so cleverly by way of
jest had actually happened to them. The duke read the inscription with
half-closed eyes and then threw open his arms to embrace Don Quixote,
assuring him that he was the best knight ever seen in any age.

Sancho in the meantime was gazing about in search of the Distressed
One, for he wished to see what she looked like without her beard and
whether or not she was as beautiful as her gallant exterior appeared to
indicate; but they told him that as soon as Clavileno had dropped to the
earth in flames, the entire band of duennas, and Trifaldi with them, had
disappeared, but that they were already clean-shaven, without a sign of
hair on their faces. The duchess then inquired of him how he had made
out on the long journey.

"Senora," replied Sancho, "as we were flying through the region of
fire, or so my master told me, I wanted to uncover my eyes a little, but
when I asked him if I might do so, he would not let me. However, I
have a little bit of curiosity in my make-up and always want to know
anything that is forbidden me; and so, very quietly and without anyone's
seeing me, I lifted the handkerchief ever so little, close to my nose, and
looked down at the earth. It seemed as if the whole earth was no bigger
than a grain of mustard and the people walking about on it were a little
larger than hazelnuts. You can see from that how high up we must have
been."

"Friend Sancho," said the duchess, "you had better mind what you are
saying. From what you tell me, you did not see the earth at all, but only
the people on it; for if the earth itself was like a grain of mustard and
each person on it like a hazelnut, then, obviously, one man would have
covered the entire earth."

"That is true," Sancho admitted, "but I had a peep at it from one
side and saw it all."

"Look here, Sancho," said the duchess, "with a side peep like that you
don't see the whole of anything you are looking at."

"I don't know anything about that way of looking at things," the
squire answered her, "but I do think your Ladyship ought to bear in
mind that we were flying by enchantment, and it was by enchantment
that I was able to see the whole earth and all the people on it, no matter
which way I looked. And if your Highness doesn't believe me, neither
will you believe me when I tell you that, having uncovered my face
all the way to the eyebrows, I found myself so close to the sky that there
was not a palm-and-a-half's distance between it and me; and a mighty
big place it is, my lady, I can tell you that! Then we went through the
region where the seven little she-goats566 are, and, seeing that as a lad
I had been a goatherd in my country, the minute I laid eyes on them I
felt like getting down and playing with them a bit, and if I hadn't done
so I think I would have burst. And so, what do I do--Without saying
anything to my master or anybody else, I slip down off Clavileno as
quietly as you please and for three-quarters of an hour I have a good
time with those goats, which are like gillyflowers,567 and all the time
Clavileno doesn't stir from the spot."

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

It was the knight himself who answered this question. "Since all
these things," he said, "all these happenings, are outside the natu-
ral order, it is not surprising that Sancho should say what he does.
As for myself, I can only state that I looked neither upward nor down-
ward, nor did I behold either the sky or the earth or the sea or the sandy
shore. It is true, I was aware that I was passing through the aerial region
and was close upon the region of fire; but that we went any farther than
that I cannot believe; and inasmuch as the fiery region lies between the
heaven where the moon is and the outmost portion of the aerial one,
we could not have come to the heaven where the seven young she-
goats are, of which Sancho speaks, without being burned, and since we
were not burned, either Sancho is lying or Sancho is dreaming."

"I am neither lying nor dreaming," replied Sancho. "If you don't
believe me, ask me to describe those goats for you, and you will see
whether I'm telling the truth or not."

"Do describe them for us, Sancho," said the duchess.

"Two of them are green, two are flesh-colored, two are blue, and one
is a mixture."

"That," said the duke, "is a new kind of goat. Here in our earthly
region we do not have such shades--I mean, goats of such hues."

"Naturally," said Sancho, "there is a difference between heavenly
goats and earthly ones."

"Tell me, Sancho," continued the duke, "did you see any he-goat
among them?"

"No, sir," was the answer, "and I've heard tell that none ever passed
the horns of the moon."

They did not care to question him any further regarding his jour-
ney, for they perceived that he was in a mood to go rambling all over
the heavens, giving them news of everything that went on there with-
out ever having stirred from the garden. In brief, this was the end of
the adventure of the Distressed Duenna, one that provided amusement
for the duke and duchess all the rest of their lives. As for Sancho, he
had something to talk about for ages, if he lived so long.

Don Quixote now came up to him, to whisper in his ear. "Sancho,"
he said, "if you want us to believe what you saw in Heaven, then you
must believe me when I tell you what I saw in the Cave of Montesinos.
I need say no more. "



CHAPTER XLII.


Of the advice which Don Quixote gave Sancho Panza before the latter
set out to govern his island, with other well-considered matters.



THE duke and duchess were so well pleased with the successful and
amusing outcome of the adventure of the Distressed One that they
made up their minds to continue with the jest, seeing what a suitable
subject they had when it came to accepting the imaginary for the real.
Accordingly, having instructed their servants and vassals as to how to
behave toward Sancho in the governorship of his promised island, they
informed the squire the next day (which was the one following Clavi-
leno's flight) that he was to make ready to go and assume his guberna-
torial duties, as his islanders were waiting for him as for the showers of
May. Sancho made a low bow.

"Ever since I dropped down from Heaven," he said, "ever since I
looked at the earth from up there and saw how little it is, I am not as
anxious to be a governor as I was once upon a time. What greatness is
there in ruling over a grain of mustard, or imperial dignity and power
in governing half a dozen human beings the size of hazelnuts--For there
did not seem to me to be any more than that. If your Lordship would
be pleased to give me a little bit of Heaven, even if it was no more than
half a league, I'd rather have it than the biggest island in the world."

"See here, friend Sancho," replied the duke, "I cannot give anyone
a bit of Heaven, even if it were a piece no bigger than your fingernail.
It is reserved for God alone to grant such grace and favors as that. What
I can give, I do give you; and that is an island, perfect in every respect,
tight and well proportioned and exceedingly fertile, where, if you
know how to make use of your opportunities, you may contrive to gain
Heaven's riches along with those of earth."

"Very well, then," said Sancho, "let the island come, and I'll do my
best to be such a governor that, in spite of all the rascals, I'll go straight
to Heaven. It's not out of greed that I want to quit my humble station
or better myself; it is because I wish to see what it's like to be a gov-
ernor."568

"Once you try it, Sancho," the duke warned him, "you will be eat-
ing your hands off after it,569 so sweet a thing it is to give orders and be
obeyed. You may be sure that when your master gets to be an emperor
?as he undoubtedly will, the way things are going for him now--
no one will be able to take that office away from him without a struggle,
and he will be sick at heart over all the time he lost in not being one."

"Sir," said Sancho, "in my opinion, it is a good thing to be the one to
give the orders, if only to a herd of cattle."

"Let them bury me with you, Sancho," said the duke, "if you do not
know everything, and I only hope you will be such a governor as your
wit seems to promise. But let us leave the matter there. Remember, it
is tomorrow that you go to assume the governorship of your island, and
this afternoon they will fit you out with the proper apparel and all the
other things needed for your departure."

"Let them clothe me any way they like," replied the squire, "for how-
ever I go dressed, I'll still be Sancho Panza."

"That is true enough," agreed the duke, "but clothes must be suited
to one's rank or dignity. It would not be well, for example, for a juris-
consult to wear the garb of a soldier, or a soldier that of a priest. You,
Sancho, will go clad partly as a man of learning and partly as a cap-
tain, for in the island that I am bestowing on you arms and letters are
equally necessary."

"I don't know much about letters," said Sancho; "in fact, I don't even
know my ABCs; but to be a good governor, it's enough for me to be
able to remember the Christus.570 As to arms, I'll handle those that they
give me till I drop, and God help me from then on.

"With so good a memory as that," observed the duke, "Sancho can-
not go wrong."

At this point Don Quixote came up and, upon hearing that Sancho was
to leave so soon for his government, with the duke's permission, took
him by the hand and led him to his room, with the intention of advis-
ing him as to how he was to conduct himself in office. Having entered
the room and closed the door, he almost forced Sancho to sit down beside
him, and then, very calmly, he began speaking as follows:

"Sancho, my friend, I thank Heaven with all my heart that good For-
tune should have come your way before I have met with her. I had
counted upon my luck to enable me to pay you for your services, but
here am I at the beginning of my adventures while you, ahead of time
and contrary to all reasonable expectation, are seeing your desires ful-
filled. Some there be that count upon bribery, importunity, begging,
early rising, entreaties, and pertinacity, and still do not attain what they
seek; and then some other will come along and, without knowing the
why or wherefore of it all, will find himself in the place and office that
so many covet. Here it is that the common saying fits in well, to the
effect that there is good luck and bad luck in all the strivings of men.
You to my mind are beyond any doubt a blockhead, you neither rise
with the sun nor keep nightly vigil, you are not industrious, and yet,
as a result of the mere breath of knight-errantry that has been breathed
upon you, you find yourself without more ado the governor of an is-
land, as if it were nothing at all.

"I say all this, Sancho, in order that you may not attribute to your
own merits the favor you have received. Rather, you should give thanks
to Heaven for its beneficence, and, after that, to the great profession of
knight-errantry for the potentialities inherent in it. Having, then, dis-
posed your heart to believe what I have said to you, be attentive, my
son, to this your Cato,571 who would counsel you and be the guiding
star that leads you to a safe harbor as you set forth upon the storm-
tossed sea572 that is now about to engulf you; for office and high trusts
are nothing other than a deep abyss of trouble and confusion.

First of all, my son, you are to fear God; for therein lies wisdom,573
and, being wise, you cannot go astray in anything. And in the second
place, you are to bear in mind who you are and seek to know yourself,
which is the most difficult knowledge to acquire that can be imagined.
Knowing yourself, you will not be puffed up, like the frog that sought
to make himself as big as the ox.574 Do this, and the memory of the fact
that you once herded pigs in your own country will come to serve
as the ugly feet to the tail of your folly."575

"That is true," said Sancho, "but it was when I was a lad. After-
ward, as a young fellow, it was geese, not pigs, that I guarded. But I
can't see what all this has to do with the case. Not all those that gov-
ern come from the race of kings."

"You are right," replied Don Quixote, "and for that very reason those
who are not of noble origin should be suave and mild in fulfilling the
grave duties of their office. In this way they will be able to free them-
selves of that malicious gossiping to which no station in life is immune.
Look to humility for your lineage, Sancho, and do not be ashamed to
say that you come of peasant stock, for when it is seen that you do
not blush for it, no one will try to make you do so. Pride yourself more
on being a good man and humble than on being a haughty sinner. The
number of persons of lowly birth who have gone up to the highest
pontifical and imperial posts is beyond counting; by way of proving
the truth of this, I could give you so many examples that it would tire
you to listen to them.

"Remember, Sancho, that if you employ virtue as your means and
pride yourself on virtuous deeds, you will have no cause to envy the
means possessed by princes and noble lords;576 for blood is inherited but
virtue is acquired,577 and virtue by itself alone has a worth that blood
does not have. This being the case, as indeed it is, if perchance one of
your relatives should come to your island to visit you, do not neglect or
offend him, but rather receive, welcome, and entertain him. By so
doing, you will be pleasing Heaven, which does not like anyone to
despise what it hath wrought, and at the same time you will be acting
in accordance with the laws of your own better nature.

"Should you bring your wife to be with you--and it is not well for
those in government to be long without their womenfolk--teach and
instruct her and smooth down her native roughness; for all that a wise
governor may acquire, a foolish and boorish wife may well squander
and lose for him. In case you become a widower (a thing that may
happen), by virtue of your office look for a better consort. Do not take
one to serve you merely as a hook and fishing rod or as a friar's hood for
the receiving of alms;578 for, of a truth I tell you, all that the judge's
wife receives her husband will have to account for on Judgment Day,
when he will have to make in death a fourfold payment for things that
in life meant nothing to him.

"Never be guided by arbitrary law, which finds favor only with the
ignorant who plume themselves on their cleverness. Let the tears of the
poor find more compassion in you, but not more justice, than the testi-
mony of the rich. Seek to uncover the truth amid the promises and gifts
of the man of wealth as amid the sobs and pleadings of the poverty-
stricken. When it is a question of equity, do not bring all the rigor of
the law to bear upon the delinquent, for the fame of the stern judge is
no greater than that of the merciful one. If the rod of justice is to be
bent, let it not be by the weight of a gift but by that of mercy. When
you come to judge the case of someone who is your enemy, put aside
all thought of the wrong he has done you and think only of the truth.
Let not passion blind you where another's rights are concerned, for
the mistakes you make will be irremediable, or only to be remedied at
the expense of your good name and fortune.

"If some beautiful woman come to you seeking justice, take your
eyes from her tears, listen not to her moans, but consider slowly and
deliberately the substance of her petition, unless you would have your
reason drowned in her weeping and your integrity swept away by her
sighs. Abuse not by words the one upon whom punishment must be in-
flicted; for the pain of the punishment itself is enough without the
addition of insults. When a guilty man comes under your jurisdiction,
remember that he is but a wretched creature, subject to the inclinations
of our depraved human nature, and insofar as you may be able to do so
without wrong to the other side, show yourself clement and merciful;
for while the attributes of God are all equal, that of mercy shines
brighter in our eyes than does that of justice.

"If you observe these rules and precepts, Sancho, your days will be
long, your fame will be eternal, rewards will be heaped upon you, in-
describable happiness shall be yours, you will be able to marry off your
children as you like, your children and your grandchildren will have
titles to their names, you will live in peace with all men, and in your
last days death will come to you amid a ripe and tranquil old age, and
the gentle, loving hands of your great-grandchildren will tenderly close
your eyes.

"What I have said to you thus far has been in the nature of instruc-
tions for the adornment of your soul. Listen now to those that will
serve you where your body is concerned."



CHAPTER XLIII.

Of the further advice which Don Quixote gave to Sancho Panza.



WHO, upon listening to the foregoing speech of Don Quixote's,
would not have taken him for a very wise person, one whose wisdom
was exceeded only by his integrity--It has frequently been remarked in
the course of this great history that it was only when he came to touch
upon the subject of chivalry that the knight talked nonsense and that
when any other topic was under discussion he showed himself to be
possessed of a clear-seeing, unfettered mind, the result being that his
deeds were all the time contradicting his own best judgment and his
judgment his deeds. And so, in the course of these further instructions
that he gave Sancho, marked by a lively play of fancy, he carried to a
high pitch both his good sense and his folly.

Sancho listened to it all most attentively, seeking to commit to
memory the counsels thus given him, as if to preserve them for future
use that he might make a success of his governorship.

"As to your own person, Sancho, and the mode of ruling your house-
hold," Don Quixote continued, "the first thing to bear in mind is that
you must be neat-appearing. Remember to trim your nails, and do not
let them grow as some do who in their ignorance have been led to be-
lieve that long fingernails make the hands look beautiful, just as if that
growth, that excrescence, that they neglect to cut were really a nail
and not rather the claw of a lizard-catching kestrel.579 This, I may tell
you, is. a filthy and unnatural abuse. Another thing, Sancho: do not go
with your girdle loosened and your garments slack; for slovenly attire
is the sign of a disorderly mind, unless such carelessness is deliberate,
as is believed to have been the case with Julius Caesar.580

"Be sure to ascertain very carefully just what the revenues of your
office are, and, if they suffice for the purpose, provide your servants
with respectable and serviceable, rather than showy and brilliant, liv-
eries. And what is more, divide the liveries between your servants and
the poor; by which I mean to say: if you have three pages to clothe,
see that you clothe three of the poor also, and in that way you will
have pages both in Heaven and on earth. This is a new mode of bestow-
ing liveries and one that is beyond the conception of the vainglorious.

"Eat neither garlic nor onions that your breath may not betray your
rustic origin.581 Walk slowly and speak with deliberation, but not in such
a manner as to give the impression that you are listening to yourself;
for all affectation is bad.582 Eat sparingly during the day and have a light
supper,583 for it is in the workshop of the stomach that the health of the
entire body is forged. Be temperate in your drinking, remembering that
he who imbibes too much wine keeps neither secret nor promise. And
take care, Sancho, not to roll your food from one cheek to the other
or to eruct in front of anyone."

"I don't know what you mean by eruct" said the squire.

"To eruct, Sancho, is the same as to belch, which is one of the most
unpleasant words in our Castilian tongue, although an expressive one.584
For this reason, those that are careful of their choice of language, in
place of 'belch' and 'bclchings,' say 'eruct' and 'eructations.' If someone
fails to understand these terms, it makes little difference; in the course
of time they will come to be readily understood and thus the language
will be enriched, for it is determined by popular usage."585

"In truth, sir," said Sancho, "that is one bit of advice that I mean to
remember: not to belch; for I do it very often."

"Eruct, Sancho, not belch," Don Quixote corrected him.

"Eruct I will say from now on," replied Sancho; "I give you my word,
I won't forget."

"Also, Sancho, you must not introduce such a host of proverbs into
your conversation; for although proverbs are concise maxims, you very
often drag them in by the hair of the head, with the result that they
sound more like nonsense than wisdom."

"That is something only God can remedy," said Sancho; "for I know
more old sayings than would fill a book, and when I start to speak they
all come rushing into my mouth at once, fighting with one another to
get out, and so, what happens is, my tongue throws out the first ones it
gets hold of, whether or not they are to the point. But I'll remember
after this to use the ones that are suited to the dignity of my office; for
in the house where there is plenty supper is soon on the table,586 and he
who binds does not wrangle,587 and the bell-ringer's in a safe place,588 and
keeping and giving call for brains."589

"That's it, Sancho!" cried Don Quixote. "Go on threading and string-
ing and coupling your proverbs, there is no one to stop you! My mother
whips me and I keep right on.590 I have just done telling you that you
should avoid proverbs, and here in a moment you have let go with a
whole litany of them that, so far as what we are talking about is con-
cerned, are over the hills of Ubeda.591 Mind you, Sancho, I do not say that
a proverb aptly brought in is not all right, but when you overload your
speech with them and string them together helter-skelter, it makes your
conversation dull and vulgar.

"But to continue: When you mount your horse, do not throw the
weight of your body against the back of the saddle nor ride with your
legs held stiffly, straight out in front of you or away from the horse's
belly; and, on the other hand, do not sit so limply that it will seem as if
you were astride your gray. The way they ride makes gentlemen of
some and grooms of others.

"Observe moderation in the matter of sleep, for he who is not up with
the sun does not make the most of the day. Bear in mind, Sancho, that
diligence is the mother of good fortune,592 and sloth, its contrary, never
yet achieved anything worth while.

"There is one more piece of advice which I should like to give you,
and--although it does not have to do with the care of your person--I
wish you would be sure to remember it, as I think it will be no less useful
to you than the counsels I have already imparted to you. It is this: that
you never become involved in a discussion of family trees, at least not
when it is a matter of comparing one with another; for, of necessity, one
of the two will have to be better than the other, and you will be hated
by those whose lineage you have disparaged, while those whose ancestry
you have exalted will in no wise reward you.

"As for your dress, you should wear full-length hose, a long jacket,
and a cloak that is a little longer still; and by all means eschew Grecian
wide-breeches, for they are becoming neither to gentlemen nor to gov-
ernors.

"For the present, that is all that I think of, Sancho, in the way of ad-
vice. As time goes on and the occasion arises, I will send you further
instructions if you will take care to keep me informed of the state of
your affairs."

"Sir," replied Sancho, "I can see very plainly that all the things your
Grace has said to me are good, holy, and profitable, but of what use
are they going to be if I do not remember a single one of them--True,
what you told me about not letting my nails grow and about marrying
again if I have a chance will not slip out of my noddle; but as for all
that other mess of hash, I don't remember, nor will I remember, any
more of it than I do of last year's clouds. And so you will have to put
it down in writing for me. While I may not be able to read or write, I
will give it to my confessor so that he can run over it with me and ham-
mer it into my head whenever necessary."

"Ah, sinner that I am!" exclaimed Don Quixote. "How bad it looks
for governors not to be able to read and write! For I would have you
know, Sancho, that when a man cannot read or is left-handed, it points
to one of two things: either he comes of exceedingly mean parentage,
or else he himself is of so wayward a disposition that good companion-
ship and good training are wasted upon him. That is a grave shortcom-
ing on your part, and for that reason I would have you at least learn
to sign your name."

"I can sign my name well enough," said Sancho. "When I was steward
of the confraternity in my village I learned to make certain letters such
as they use in marking bundles and which, so they told me, spelled out
my name. And, anyway, I can always pretend that my right hand is
crippled and have someone else sign for me; for there's a remedy for
everything except death,593 and, seeing that I'm in command and hold
the rod, I can do anything I like. 'He whose father is a judge--' you
know.594 And I'll be a governor, which is higher than a judge; so come
on and see! Let them make fun of me and slander me; let them come for
wool and go back shorn.595 For whom God loves, his house knows it,596 and
the silly sayings of the rich pass for maxims in this world.597 Being a
governor, I'll be rich, and I mean to be generous at the same time; and
that way no one will find any fault with me. Only make yourself some
honey and the flies will come to suck you, as much as you have so much
are you worth,598 as my grandmother used to say, and there's no way of
getting even with a man of means."599

"May God curse you, Sancho!" cried Don Quixote at this point. "May
sixty thousand devils carry you off, and your proverbs with you! For
an hour now you have been stringing them, and every one is a torture
to me. I can assure you that these sayings of yours will one day bring
you to the gallows; on account of them your vassals will take the gov-
ernment away from you, or else there will be conspiracies among them.
Tell me, where do you find them all, you ignorant lout, or how do you
manage to apply them--If I utter one and apply it properly, I have to
sweat and labor as if I were digging a ditch."

"In God's name, master," replied Sancho, "you are complaining over
very little. Why should you be vexed if I make use of my own property,
seeing that I have no other--no other wealth except sayings and more
sayings--Here are four that have just popped into my head, as pat to the
purpose as could be, or like pears in a basket; but I'm not going to repeat
them, for to keep silence well is called Sancho."600

"That Sancho is not you," said Don Quixote, "for not only do you not
know how to keep silent, but you are a mischievous prattler in the bar-
gain. Nevertheless, I am curious to know what the four sayings are that
you have just remembered and that fit in so aptly here; for I have been
ransacking my own memory--and it is a good one--and none of the
sort have occurred to me."

"What better could you ask for," said Sancho, "than these: 'Never
put your thumbs between two of your back grinders';601 and 'To "Get
out of my house" and "What do you want with my wife?" there is no
answer'; and 'Whether the pitcher hits the stone or the stone the pitcher,
it will be bad for the pitcher,'602 all of which fit to a hair--Let no one
fall out with his governor or with the one who is in command or he will
be sorry for it in the end, like him who puts his thumb between his
grinders, whether they be back teeth or not, so long as they are grind-
ers that's all that matters. And to whatever the governor may say there's
no answer to be made, any more than there is to 'Get out of my house'
or 'What do you want with my wife?' As for the stone and the pitcher,
a blind man could see that. And so it is that he who sees the mote in
another's eye should see the beam in his own,603 that it may not be said
of him, 'The dead woman was frightened at the one with her throat
cut';604 for your Grace is well aware that the fool knows more in his
own house than the wise man in the house of another."605

"That is not true, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for the fool knows
nothing, in his own house or in the house of another, for the reason
that upon a foundation of folly no edifice of wisdom can be reared.
But let us leave the matter there. If you make a bad governor, the fault
will be yours and mine will be the shame, but I find consolation in the
thought that I have done my duty in thus earnestly advising you, with
all the wisdom at my command; in this way am I released from my obli-
gation and my promise. May God guide you, Sancho, and govern you
in your government, and may He deliver me from the fear I have that
you are going to turn the whole island upside down, a thing that I
might prevent by revealing to the duke what you are, telling him that
your fat little person is nothing other than a bag stuffed with proverbs
and mischief."

"Sir," replied Sancho, "if your Grace is of the opinion that I am
not fitted for this governorship, I give it up here and now; for I am more
concerned for the black-of-the-nail of my soul than for my entire body.
As plain Sancho, I can make out just as well on bread and onions as
I can as governor on partridges and capons. When it comes to that, all
are equal when they are asleep, the great and the small, the poor and
the rich; and if your Grace will stop to think, you will remember that
you alone were the one who put me up to being a governor, for I
know no more about governing islands than a buzzard does, and if I
thought for a minute that in order to be a governor the devil would
have to carry me off, then I would rather go to Heaven as Sancho than
go to Hell as a governor."

"So help me God, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "if only by reason of
these last words that you have spoken, I hold you fit to be the governor
of a thousand islands. You have by nature a good disposition without
which no knowledge is worth anything. Commend yourself to God,
then, and try not to lose sight of your main purpose; by which I mean,
that you should make it your unswerving aim to do the right thing in
all matters that come up for your judgment, for Heaven always favors
good intentions. And now, let us go to dinner, for I think our hosts are
waiting for us."



CHAPTER XLIV.

How Sancho Panza was taken away to be governor, and the
strange adventure that befell Don Quixote in the castle.



They say that in the original version of the history it is stated that
the interpreter did not translate the present chapter as Cid Hamete had
written it,606 owing to a kind of grudge that the Moor had against him-
self for having undertaken a story so dry and limited in scope as is this
one of Don Quixote. For it seemed to him he was always having to speak
of the knight and of Sancho, without being able to indulge in digres-
sions of a more serious and entertaining nature. He remarked that to
go on like this, pen in hand, with his mind fixed upon a single subject
and having to speak through the mouths of a few persons only, was for
him an intolerable and unprofitable drudgery.

By way of relieving the monotony, in the first part of the work he had
employed the artifice of introducing a few novelas, such as the Story
of the One Who Was Too Curious for His Own Good and The Cap-
tive's Story 607--tales that, so to speak, had nothing to do with the narra-
tive proper, the other portions being concerned with things that had
happened to Don Quixote himself, such as could not be omitted.608 He
also felt, he tells us, that many readers, carried away by the interest at-
taching to the knight's exploits, would be inclined to pass over these
novelettes either hastily or with boredom, thereby failing to note the
fine craftsmanship they exhibited, which, however, would be plainly
evident when they should be published by themselves instead of ap-
pearing as mere adjuncts to Don Quixote's madness and Sancho's fool-
ishness.

Accordingly, in this second part it was not his intention to insert any
more tales of that kind, whether separate or interwoven with the nar-
rative as a whole, but rather only a few episodes that resembled them,
arising naturally out of the course of events; and even with these he
meant to be sparing, employing as few words as possible in the telling.
He goes on to say that, while thus confining himself closely within the
narrow limits of the plot, he wishes it understood that he has sufficient
ability and intelligence to take the entire universe for his theme if he
so desired and he asks that his labors be not looked down upon, but that
he be given credit not for what he writes, but for what he has re-
frained from writing.

He then goes on with the story by saying that, on the afternoon of the
day on which he had given the oral advice to Sancho,609 Don Quixote
presented him with a written copy of what he had said to him, that the
squire might look for someone to read it to him. Scarcely had he done
so when Sancho lost the document and it found its way into the hands
of the duke, who communicated its contents to the duchess, whereupon
they both marveled once again at the knight's folly and good sense.
And with the object of carrying on the jest, they sent Sancho that
same afternoon, with a large retinue, to the place that for him was to
be his island.610

Now, it happened that the one who was in charge of Sancho and
his train was a major-domo of the duke's, a fellow with a keen sense
of humor who was at the same time very discreet (for there can be no
humor where there is not discretion). He it was who had played the
part of the Countess Trifaldi so amusingly, as has been related, and so
was well suited for his present role. In addition, he had been thor-
oughly instructed by his lord and lady as to how he was to behave
toward the squire, and as a result everything went off marvelously well.

The moment Sancho laid eyes upon the major-domo, he had a vision
of La Trifaldi. "Sir," he said, turning to his master, "may the devil take
me right here and now, as a righteous man and a believer,611 if your Grace
is not going to have to admit that the face on that steward is the Dis-
tressed One's very own."

Don Quixote gazed at the man attentively. "There is no reason why
the devil should take you, Sancho," he replied, "either as a righteous man
or as a believer--I don't know what you mean by that--for, while the
Distressed One's face is that of the major-domo, the major-domo's
countenance is not that of the Distressed One, for if such were the case
it would imply too great a contradiction. However, this is not the time
for going into all that, as it would involve us in an endless labyrinth.
Believe me, friend, we must pray Our Lord most earnestly to deliver
us from the wiles of wizards and enchanters."

"It is no joke, master," said Sancho, "for a while ago I heard him
speak, and it was like La Trifaldi's voice sounding in my ears. Very
well, I'll keep silent; but from now on I intend to be on my guard to
see if I can discover any other sign that will tell me whether I am right
or wrong in what I suspect."

"That you should do, Sancho," agreed Don Quixote, "and you must
keep me advised of all that you discover in regard to this matter and
of everything that happens to you in connection with your govern-
ment."

Finally Sancho and his train set out. He was dressed like a man of
the law, and over all wore a tawny-hued, wide-flaring greatcoat of
watered camlet, with a cap of the same material.612 He was mounted upon
a mule, his saddle being of the high-backed short-stirrup variety,613 and
behind him, by order of the duke, came the gray, decked out in bril-
liant614 silken trappings and such ornaments as are suited to an ass.
Sancho every now and then would turn his head to look back at the beast,
being so glad of the animal's company that he would not have changed
places with the emperor of Germany.

Upon taking his leave of the duke and duchess, he kissed their hands
and received the blessing which his master bestowed upon him. Don
Quixote was in tears, and he himself was blubbering.

And now, gentle reader, let the worthy Sancho go in peace and good
luck go with him. You may expect two bushels615 of laughter when
you hear how he deported himself in office. Meanwhile, listen to what
happened to his master that same night, and if it does not make you
laugh, it will at least cause you to part your lips in an apelike grin; for
Don Quixote's adventures are to be greeted either with astonishment
or with mirth.

As soon as Sancho had gone, the story continues, Don Quixote felt
his loneliness616 so keenly that, if it had been possible for him to have
done so, he would have revoked his squire's commission and had his
government taken away from him. Seeing how melancholy the knight
was, the duchess inquired the cause of his sadness, observing that if it
was Sancho's absence, there were squires, duennas, and damsels a-plenty
in her household who would serve the guest to his entire satisfaction.

"It is true, my lady," replied Don Quixote, "that I miss Sancho, but
that is not the chief reason that I seem so sad. Of the many offers that
your Excellency has made me, I choose and accept but one: the good
will with which they are made. As for the rest, I beg your Excellency
to consent to my waiting upon myself, in my own chamber."

"Really, Senor Don Quixote," said the duchess, "I could not think of
that. Four of my damsels, lovely as flowers, shall be at your service."

"For me," said Don Quixote, "they will not be as flowers, but rather
as thorns that pierce my soul, and neither they nor any like them shall
enter my chamber any more than they would fly.617 If your Highness
would do me yet another favor, though I deserve none, permit me to
serve myself as I prefer behind closed doors; for I would place a wall
between my desires and my virtue. It is a habit of mine, and I do not
wish to abandon it by reason of the generosity that your Highness would
show me. The short of the matter is, I will sleep with my clothes on
before I will consent to anyone's undressing me."

"Say no more, say no more, Senor Don Quixote," the duchess begged
him. "I promise you I will give orders that not so much as a fly, not to
speak of a maiden, shall enter your room. I am not the one to impair the
decency of Don Quixote de la Mancha; for it appears to me that of his
many virtues the one that shines forth most clearly is that of modesty.
Let your Grace dress and undress alone, as and when you like; there
will be no one to hinder you. Within this chamber you will find those
vessels that are necessary for one who sleeps behind locked doors, and
you will not have to open the door to satisfy any call of nature. May
the great Dulcinea del Toboso live a thousand ages, and may her fame
be extended all over the surface of the globe, seeing that she has merited
the love of so valiant and so chaste a knight; and may a kind Heaven
put it into the heart of Sancho Panza, our governor, to have done soon
with his penance, that the world may once more enjoy the beauty of
so exalted a lady."

"Your Highness," replied Don Quixote, "has spoken as befits the
person that she is; for worthy ladies never take upon their lips the
name of any who is bad,618 and Dulcinea will be more fortunate and
better known throughout the world by reason of your Highness's
praise than she would be as a result of the eulogies of the most eloquent
tongues on earth."

"Very well, then, Senor Don Quixote," said the duchess, "the supper
hour has come and the duke must be waiting for us. Let us go to supper,
your Grace, after which you may retire early; for the journey from
Candaya yesterday was not a short one and must have tired you some-
what."

"I do not feel in the least tired, my lady," Don Quixote assured her.
"I will venture to give your Excellency my oath that never in my life
have I mounted a beast that was easier riding or better paced than
Clavileno, and I do not understand what could have induced Malam-
bruno to do away with so swift and gentle a steed by burning it the
way he did, as if it were nothing at all."

"I fancy," said the duchess, "that he must have repented of the harm
he had done to La Trifaldi and her companions, and to other persons
as well, and of the misdeeds which, as a wizard and enchanter, he must
have committed, and, as a consequence, he wished to have done with
all the instruments of his art, chief among which was Clavileno, the one
that bore him, a restless wanderer, from land to land. And so he burned
it, and by its ashes and the inscription that was set up in the form of a
trophy the valor of the great Don Quixote de la Mancha remains estab-
lished for all time to come."

Once more Don Quixote thanked the duchess; and, after he had
supped, he retired to his room alone, declining to permit any servant to
enter with him, so greatly did he fear an occasion that might move or
compel him to part with that decency and modesty that he preserved in
honor of his lady Dulcinea; for he had ever in mind the virtue displayed
by Amadis, flower and mirror of knight-errantry. Having locked his
door, he proceeded to undress by the light of two wax candles; and as
he went to take off his stockings--O disaster that never should have
befallen such a person as this!--there burst from him, not sighs or any-
thing of an indelicate nature, but up to two dozen stitches in one of his
stockings, which now had the appearance of a piece of lattice work.
The worthy gentleman was deeply grieved over it and would have
given an ounce of silver then and there for half a dram of green silk--
since the hose that he wore were green.

Here Benengeli, as he goes on writing, exclaims:

"O poverty! poverty! I know not what could have led that great
Cordovan poet to call thee a 'holy, unappreciated gift.'619 I though
a Moor, know well, through the intercourse I have had with Christians,
that holiness consists in charity, humility, faith, obedience, and pov-
erty; but, for all of that, I assert that he must indeed be possessed of
much godliness who can be content with being poor, unless it be that
kind of poverty of which one of their greatest saints was speaking when
he said, 'Possess all things as though ye possessed them not.'620 That is
what is known as poverty of spirit. But there is another kind of poverty,
and it is of thee I speak. Why dost thou love to dog the steps of gentle-
men and the wellborn rather than those of other folk--Why dost thou
oblige them to go with patched shoes,621 while some of the buttons on
their doublets are of silk, others of hair, and others still of glass--Why
must their ruffs be all wrinkled instead of being properly crimped with
an iron." (From this may be seen how ancient is the use of starch and
of crimped ruffs as well.)

"How wretched," continues Benengeli, "is he who comes of good
family who must all the time be pampering his honor! Eating badly
behind closed doors, he plays the hypocrite when he steps out into the
street with a toothpick in his mouth although he has had no cause to
clean his teeth.622 Poor wretch, I say, so worried about his honor that
he fancies the patch on his shoe can be seen a league away and who is
concerned over the sweat stains on his hat, his threadbare cloak, and his
empty stomach, imagining that they must all be equally visible!"

Don Quixote was led to reflect on all this as he surveyed the burst
threads in his stockings; but he was relieved to notice that Sancho had
left behind him a pair of traveling boots, and he resolved to wear these
the next day. He finally went to bed, moody and heavyhearted, owing
as much to Sancho's absence as to the irreparable damage done to his
hose, which he would even have been willing to patch with thread of
another color, one of the greatest signs of poverty that a gentleman can
exhibit in the course of his long-drawn-out and threadbare existence.
He put out the candles, but it was warm and he could not sleep. Rising
from his bed, he partly opened a grated window that looked out on a
beautiful garden, and as he did so he became aware of people walking
and talking down below. He listened attentively, and as the speakers
raised their voices somewhat, he overheard the following conversation:

"Do not urge me to sing, Emerencia, for you know that ever since
that stranger entered this castle and my eyes beheld him, I cannot sing
but only weep. Moreover, my lady sleeps rather lightly, and I would
not have her find us here for all the wealth in the world. And even if
she did not awake but slept on, my song would be in vain if this new
Aeneas who has come here only to scorn me should likewise be deep
in slumber and fail to lend a listening ear."

"Give no heed to that, my dear Altisidora," a voice replied. "There is
no doubt that the duchess and all those in the house are sleeping now, all
save the lord of your heart and the awakener of your soul; for I heard
him opening the window of his room a moment ago, and that must
mean that he is awake. Sing, my poor dear, low and softly, to the sound
of your harp, and if the duchess should hear us, we will blame it on
the heat of the night."

"That is not the point, Emerencia," said Altisidora. "I do not wish
that my song should lay bare my soul and that I should be taken for
a light and frivolous maid by those who know nothing of the mighty
power of love. But, come what will, shame on the cheek is better than
an ache in the heart."623

There came then the sound of an instrument very gently touched,
hearing which Don Quixote was deeply moved; for at that moment all
the innumerable adventures of a like sort, at windows, gratings, and
in gardens, to the accompaniment of serenades, love-making, and faint-
ing fits, that he had read of in those vapid books of chivalry of his,
came back to mind. He at once fancied that one of the duchess's waiting
women must be enamored of him but was compelled by her modesty
to conceal her passion. He feared that he would yield to temptation, but
took a firm resolve not to permit himself to be overcome; and, com-
mending himself with all his heart and soul to his lady Dulcinea del
Toboso, he decided that he would listen to the music, giving as a token
of his presence a feigned sneeze, which pleased the maidens very much,
since their one desire was for him to hear them. And then, having tuned
her harp and run her fingers over it, Altisidora began the following
ballad:624

　　　　　O thou above who in thy bed,
　　　　　'Tween sheets of linen fine,
　　　　　With outstretched legs dost sleep all night,
　　　　　Ah, ' tis for thee I pine!

　　　　　O thou, La Mancha's bravest knight,
　　　　　The purest, when all is told,
　　　　　Thy virtue and thy noble worth
　　　　　Outweigh Arabia's gold!

　　　　　Then, hear the plaint of gentle maid
　　　　　Aweary with desire,
　　　　　Who in the light of thy twin orbs
　　　　　Doth feel her heart catch fire.

　　　　　Seeking adventures, thou dost roam,
　　　　　To others bringing woe;
　　　　　Wounds thou dost deal, deniest balm:
　　　　　No mercy wouldst thou show.

　　　　　Tell me, O valiant-hearted youth--
　　　　　God prosper thine emprise !--
　　　　　Wast born ' mid Jaca's barren crags
　　　　　Or ' neath the Libyan skies--625

　　　　　And was it serpents suckled thee--
　　　　　Thy nurses, who were they,
　　　　　In forest wild, dark mountain cave,
　　　　　Amongst the beasts of prey--

　　　　　Ah, well may Dulcinea boast,
　　　　　The plump and sturdy lass,
　　　　　That she a tiger fierce hath tamed
　　　　　And doth all maids surpass.

　　　　　For this, her fame shall spread abroad
　　　　　From Jarama to Henares,
　　　　　From Pisuerga to Arlanza,
　　　　　From the Tagus to Manzanares.626

　　　　　How gladly would I change with her,
　　　　　Give a petticoat to boot,
　　　　　My gayest one with golden fringe,
　　　　　To win my hapless suit.

　　　　　Oh, to be clasped within thine arms
　　　　　Or sit beside thy bed,
　　　　　Fondly caress thee with my hand,
　　　　　And scratch thy scurvy head!

　　　　　But I am asking far too much,
　　　　　Ah, no, it is not meet;
　　　　　Most humbly l should be content
　　　　　Playing with thy feet.

　　　　　What coifs I'd bring thee, wert thou mine,
　　　　　And silver slippers, too,
　　　　　And damask breeches, Holland capes:
　　　　　With gifts like these I'd woo! 627

　　　　　What finest pearls of gallnut size ;
　　　　　Unrivaled they would be
　　　　　Thus, each "La Sola"628 would be called
　　　　　For want of company.

　　　　　Then, gaze not from Tarpeian rock
　　　　　Upon this kindling blaze.
　　　　　Manchegan Nero, spare thy wrath
　　　　　Ere it my heart doth raze.

　　　　　I'm but a child, a virgin young,
　　　　　Just three months past fourteen;
　　　　　By God and on my soul l swear,
　　　　　'Tis all of life I've seen.

　　　　　I am not lame, l do not limp,
　　　　　I'm whole of limb and sound;
　　　　　My lily locks 629 thou may'st perceive,
　　　　　Go trailing on the ground.

　　　　　My mouth is wide, my nose is flat,
　　　　　These faults I'll not deny,
　　　　　But topaz teeth my beauty save,
　　　　　Exalt it to the sky.

　　　　　My voice thou knowest to be sweet,
　　　　　If thou dost hear me now;
　　　　　My build is middling, a little less,
　　　　　It is not bad, l vow.

　　　　　And these and all my other charms
　　　　　Thy quiver hath won for thee.
　　　　　Altisidora is my name;
　　　　　This house is home to me.

Here the sorely wounded Altisidora brought her song to a close, and
it was then that Don Quixote, object of her wooing, began to be per-
turbed. Heaving a deep sigh, he exclaimed to himself, "Oh, why must
I be so unfortunate a knight that no damsel who looks upon me can
help falling in love with me! Why must it be the misfortune of the peer-
less Dulcinea del Toboso not to be left in peace to enjoy my incompara-
ble fidelity! What would you of her, O queens! Empresses, why do you
persecute her! Why do you pursue her, O maids of fourteen and fifteen
years of age! Leave, oh, leave the wretched one to rejoice in her tri-
umph and to glory in the lot that Love has bestowed upon her by render-
ing her my heart and delivering to her my very soul! Listen, enamored
ones: to Dulcinea alone I am a doughy paste, but to all other females I
am made of flint. To her I am honey, aloes to you. For me, Dulcinea
alone is beautiful, prudent, modest, elegant, and wellborn, and all the
rest are ugly, stupid, frivolous, and of ignoble lineage. Nature sent me
into the world to belong to her and none other. Then, weep or sing,
Altisidora; let that Madam630 on whose account they belabored me in
the castle of the enchanted Moor631 continue to despair; I still must be
Dulcinea's, boiled or roasted,632 and I shall remain clean, well bred, and
chaste in spite of all the witching powers on the face of the earth."

With this, he banged the window shut and, gloomy and out of sorts
as if some dire misfortune had befallen him, went to bed. There we
shall leave him for the present; for the great Sancho Panza, now about
to enter upon his famous governorship, is beckoning to us.



CHAPTER XLV.

Of how the great Sancho took possession of his island
and of the way in which he began to govern.



O PERPETUAL discoverer of the antipodes, great taper of the
world, eye of the heavens, sweet shaker of the water-coolers,633 Thym-
braeus634 here, Phoebus there, archer in one place, in another a physician,
father of poetry, inventor of music, thou who dost ever rise and, though
appearing to do so, dost never set!635 Tis thee, O Sun, by whose aid man
doth beget man,636 'tis thee whom I beseech to favor and enlighten my
darkened intellect that I may be able to give an absolutely exact ac-
count of the government of the great Sancho Panza; for without thee
I feel lukewarm, fainthearted, and confused.

To continue, then: Sancho with all his train arrived at a village of
around a thousand inhabitants, one of the best in the duke's domains.637
They informed him that it was called Barataria Island, either because the
real name of the village was Baratario, or by reason of the barato 638 which
had led to the government being bestowed upon him. As they reached
the town, which had a wall around it, the officers of the municipality
came out to meet them, the bells rang, and all the townspeople evi-
denced their satisfaction. With much pomp they conducted him to the
cathedral to give thanks to God, and then, with a few mock ceremonies,
they handed over to him the keys of the city, acknowledging him to be
the island's perpetual governor.

The new governor's apparel, his beard, and his little fat figure aston-
ished all those who were not in on the joke, and even those who were,
and they were many. Finally, upon leaving the church, they took him
to the judge's chair and seated him in it, and the duke's major-domo
then addressed him.

"Sir Governor," he said, "it is an ancient and obligatory custom in
this famous island for the one who comes to take possession of it to
answer a question that is put to him, one that shall be somewhat difficult
and intricate, so that from his answer the people may be able to form
an idea of their ruler's intelligence and judge for themselves as to
whether they should hail his coming with joy or look upon it with
sorrow."

All the time the major-domo was saying this, Sancho was gazing
steadily at some large letters inscribed upon the wall facing him, and
inasmuch as he did not know how to read, he asked what they were.

"Sir," was the reply, "that inscription is a notation of the day upon
which your Lordship took possession of this island. It reads: 'On this
day--such and such a day of such and such a year--Don Sancho Panza
took over the government of this island and many years may he en-
joy it.' "

"And who is it that they call 'Don Sancho Panza'?" asked Sancho.

"Your Lordship," the major-domo answered, "for no other Panza
has set foot here except the one who is seated in that chair."

"Well, then, brother," said Sancho, "I will let you know that there
has never been any 'Don' in my family. Plain Sancho Panza they call
me, and Sancho was my father's name before me, and my grandfather's
before him; they all were Panzas, without any 'Dons' or 'Donas' tacked
on.639 In this island, I imagine, there must be more 'Dons* than there are
stones. But enough of that; God knows what I mean. It may be, if my
government lasts four days, I'll weed them all out; for there are so
many of them they must be as troublesome as gnats.640 Go ahead with
your question, Senor Major-domo, and I'll reply the best way I can,
whether the people are sorry or not."

At this moment there came into the court two men, one dressed
like a peasant, the other like a tailor, for this latter held in his hands a
pair of shears.

"Sir Governor," said the tailor, "I and this peasant have come before
your Grace to have you settle a difference between us. Yesterday this
good man entered my shop--for, begging the pardon of those present,641
I am a licensed tailor, God be praised--and, putting a piece of cloth in
my hands, he asked me, 'Senor, is there enough here to make me a cap?'
Feeling the cloth, I told him there was. He must have supposed--as I sup-
posed, and I supposed right--that I undoubtedly meant to make away
with a part of the material, being led to think so by his own malicious-
ness and the bad opinion that people have of tailors. He then asked me to
look and see if there would be enough for two. Guessing what was in
his mind, I said yes; whereupon he, persisting in his damnable first in-
tention, went on adding cap after cap, with me saying, yes, yes, until
we were up to five caps in all. Just a while ago he came to call for them
and I gave them to him, but he doesn't want to pay me for my labor but
insists I should pay him or give him back his cloth."

"Is all this true, brother?" inquired Sancho.

"Yes, sir," replied the man, "but will your Grace please have him
show the five caps that he made for me?"

"I'll be glad to," said the tailor. And, with this, he at once brought
his hand out from under his cloak, displaying the five caps upon his
four fingers and thumb. "There they are, and I swear by God and my
conscience there's not a scrap of cloth left; I am willing to submit my
work to the inspectors of the trade."

All those present had a laugh over the number of caps and the novel
character of this lawsuit. As for Sancho, he considered the matter for
a while and then said, "It appears to me that in this case there is no
need of lengthy arguments; all that is called for is the judgment of an
honest man. And so my decision is that the tailor shall lose his work
and the peasant his cloth, and the caps shall go to the prisoners in the
jail,642 and let us hear no more about it."

If the decision in the case of the cattle-driver's purse643 had aroused
the admiration of the bystanders, this one provoked them to laughter;
but the governor's orders were nonetheless carried out. Two old men
were the next to present themselves before him, one of whom carried
a reed by way of staff. It was the one without a staff who was the first
to speak.

"My lord," he began, "some days ago I lent this good man ten gold
crowns by way of service duly rendered,644 on condition that he should
repay me upon demand. A long time went by without my demanding
payment, for the reason that I did not wish to cause him an even greater
hardship than that which he was suffering when he sought the loan.
However, when I saw that he was making no effort to pay me, I asked
him for the money, not once but many times, and he not only failed
to reimburse me, he even refused to do so, saying I had never let him take
the ten crowns in question. I have no witnesses of the loan, and naturally
there are none of the payment since no payment was made. Accordingly,
I would have your Grace put him under oath, and if he swears that he
did pay me, then I will cancel the debt, here and before God."645

"What do you say to that, old man with the staff?" Sancho asked.

"My lord," replied the old man, "I admit that he lent them to me;
but your Grace may lower that rod,646 for, seeing that he has had me
put under oath, I will also swear that I paid him back, really and truly."

The governor lowered the rod that he held, and in the meanwhile
the old man who had spoken handed his staff over to the other one while
he took the oath, as if he found it in his way. Then, placing his hand
upon the cross of the rod, he once more affirmed that it was true that
he had borrowed the ten crowns that were being demanded of him but
that he had paid them back into the other's hand, the only thing being
that the other old man did not appear to realize it but was all the time
asking for his money. In view of this, the great governor then asked
the creditor what he had to say in reply to his adversary's statement;
whereupon the old fellow who now held the staff replied that his
debtor must undoubtedly be speaking the truth, as he knew him to be
a worthy man and a good Christian. The one who had lent the crowns
added that he must surely have forgotten how and when they had been
repaid and that from that time forth he would never ask his adversary
for anything.

The debtor thereupon took back his staff and, with bowed head, left
the court. When he saw the defendant leaving in this manner, without
saying another word, and when he perceived how resigned the plaintiff
was, Sancho dropped his chin to his bosom and, placing the forefinger of
his right hand in turn upon his eyebrows and his nose, remained lost in
thought for a short while. Then he raised his head and ordered them
to call back the old man with the staff who had already left.

They did so, and as soon as Sancho saw him, he said, "Good man,
give me that staff. I have need of it."

"Gladly," replied the old man. "Here it is, my lord." And he placed
it in the governor's hand.

Sancho took it and handed it to the other old man, remarking, "Go
in peace, for you are now repaid."

"Repaid, my lord--And is this reed worth ten gold crowns?"

"Yes," said the governor, "it is; or if it is not, then I am the biggest
blockhead in the world. We will see right now whether or not I have it
in me to govern an entire kingdom."

With this, he ordered that the reed be broken and laid open there
in the sight of all, and in the heart of it they found the ten gold crowns.
They were all greatly astonished at this, looking upon their governor
as another Solomon. When they inquired of him how he knew that the
crowns were there, he replied that it had come to him when he saw the
old man hand the staff to his adversary while he was taking an oath
to the effect that he had really and truly paid his creditor, and then,
when he was through, had heard him ask for it back again. From which
it was to be deduced that, even when those who governed were simple-
tons, God'sometimes guided them in their judgments. Moreover, he
had heard the curate of his village tell of another case like this one,647 and
if it was a question of not forgetting what he had need to remember,
there was not another memory like his own in all the island.

The short of the matter is, one old man went off crestfallen, the other
with his money in hand, while those present continued to marvel at the
thing.. As for him whose duty it was to record Sancho's words, deeds,
and movements, he could not make up his mind as to whether he should
take the new governor for a fool or set him down as a wise man.

When this case had been concluded, there came into the court a
woman holding on tightly to a man who was dressed like a rich drover.

"Justice, Senor Governor! Justice!" she cried, "and if I don't find
it on earth, I'll go look for it in Heaven! Beloved Governor, this evil
man caught me in the middle of a field and made use of my body as if
it had been some filthy rag. Ah, poor me! he has taken from me that
which I had guarded more than twenty-three years, defending it alike
against Moors and Christians, foreigners and native-born. I was always
hard as corkwood, keeping myself as pure as a salamander in the flames
or wool among the brambles, and now this fine fellow comes along and
handles me with clean hands!"

"It remains to be seen," said Sancho, "whether this gallant has clean
hands or not." And, turning to the man, he ordered him to reply to
the complaint which the woman had made against him.

The defendant was in a state of confusion. "Good sirs, ' he answered,
"I am but a poor dealer in hogs. This morning I left the village to sell--
begging your pardon648--four pigs, and what with taxes and cheating
they took away from me practically all that they came to. As I was
returning home, I fell in with this good dame, and the devil, who likes
to jumble everything, saw to it that we were yoked together. I paid
her quite enough, but she, dissatisfied, laid hold of me and would not
let me go until she had dragged me here. She says that I forced her,
but she lies by the oath that I am taking or am ready to take. And
that is the whole truth, every particle of it."

The governor asked the man if he had any silver coins with him, and
the drover replied that he had some twenty ducats in a purse that was
hidden in his bosom. Sancho then directed him to take the purse out
and hand it over to the plaintiff, which the drover did, trembling all
the while. The woman took it and, with many curtsies to all present,
offered a prayer to God for the life and health of the Senor Gov-
ernor who thus looked after damsels and orphans in distress. With this,
she left the court, grasping the purse with both hands, but not until she
first had looked to see if the coins in it were of silver. No sooner was
she gone than Sancho turned to the drover, who, with eyes and heart
following the purse, was on the verge of tears.

"My good man," he said, "go after that woman, take the purse awav
from her whether she is willing to give it up or not, and come back here
with it."

He was not talking to a fool or a deaf man, for the drover was off at
once like a streak of lightning, to carry out the order that had been
given him. The bystanders, meanwhile, waited eagerly to see what the
outcome of this case would be. Within a short while the pair returned,
engaged in more of a struggle than before; she had her petticoat up
with the purse in the lap of it while he strove to take it from her. This
was not possible, however, so stoutly did she defend herself.

"Justice!" she was crying, "God's justice and the world's justice, too!
Behold, Senor Governor, how bold and shameless this ruffian is. In
the center of the town and middle of the street he tried to take away
from me the purse which your Grace had ordered him to give me!"

"And did he take it?" asked the governor.

"Take it?" replied the woman. "I'd give up my life sooner than I
would the purse. A fine young thing I'd be! They'll have to throw
other rats in my face!649 Hammers and pincers, mallets and chisels,
would not be enough to get it out of my clutches, nor even a lion's
claws. They'd take the soul from out my body before they'd do that!"

"She's right," said the man. "I give up. I admit I haven't the strength
to take it away from her." And he let go his hold.

Sancho then addressed the woman. "Let us have a look at that purse,
my respectable and valiant one," he said. She gave it to him and he
then handed it back to the man, saying, as he did so, to the one who had
been forced and who had not been forced, "Sister, if you had shown
the same or even half the courage and valor in defending your body
that you have in protecting the purse, the might of Hercules would
not have been sufficient to overcome you. Be on your way, in God's
name, and bad luck to you, and do not show yourself again in this en-
tire island or for six leagues around, under pain of two hundred lashes.
Go, then, I say, you shameless, cheating hussy! Be off with you!"650

Frightened by this, the woman left with her head down, very much
disgruntled.

"My good man," said Sancho to the defendant, "return to your vil-
lage with your money and may God go with you; and hereafter, if
you do not want to lose your purse, see to it that you do not take it into
your head to yoke with anyone."

Mumbling his thanks, the man departed, and the spectators once again
expressed their astonishment at the wise decisions made by their new
governor. All of which the chronicler duly noted down, to be for-
warded to the duke who was eagerly awaiting his report. And here, let
us leave the worthy Sancho; for his master, greatly excited by Altisi-
dora's music, urgently claims our attention.



CHAPTER XLVI.

Of Don Quixote's bell-and-cat fright in the course of the
enamored. Altisidora's wooing.



WE LEFT the great Don Quixote lost in revery as a result of the
enamored damsel Altisidora's serenade. Upon going to bed, he found
that his thoughts were like fleas: they would not let him sleep nor
give him a moment's rest, and mingled with his amorous fancies were
the torn stitches in his stockings. But Time, which is swift-footed and
knows no obstacle, came riding on the hours, and very soon it was morn-
ing. As soon as he saw that it was daylight, being by no means slothful,
the knight quitted his downy couch and proceeded to dress himself,
donning his chamois-skin suit and drawing on his traveling boots to
hide the rents in his hose. Over all he threw his scarlet cloak and, plac-
ing upon his head a cap of green velvet trimmed in silver, he strapped
on his baldric and his good keen-bladed sword and then picked up a
large rosary that he always carried and with a solemn strut set out for
the anteroom where the duke and duchess, already dressed, appeared
to be expecting him.

As he made his way down a corridor he came upon Altisidora and
the other maiden who was her friend, and the moment the enamored
one laid eyes upon him, she promptly fainted. Her companion caught
her and at once began undoing her bosom, and when Don Quixote saw
this, he went over to them.

"I know," he said, "what causes such attacks as that."

"I do not understand it," replied the friend, "for Altisidora is the
healthiest damsel in this household. I have never heard her so much as
utter an Ay! in all the time that I have known her. Bad luck to all the
knights-errants in this world if they are all of them so ungrateful! Go
away, Senor Don Quixote, for this poor girl will not come to herself as
long as your Grace stands there."

"Lady," said Don Quixote, "I wish you would have them put a lute
in my chamber this evening, and I will console the unfortunate lass as
best I can; for when love is in its first stages, a prompt disillusionment is
recognized as the most efficacious remedy."

With this, he went his way in order that his presence might not be
noted by any passers-by; and he was no sooner out of sight than the
swooning Altisidora recovered her senses.

"We shall have to place that lute there for him," she said, "for if Don
Quixote means to give us a serenade, it ought not to be bad, coming
from him."

They then went to inform the duchess of what had happened, telling
her that the knight wished a lute. Their mistress was delighted with
the idea and at once arranged with the duke and her waiting women
to play a joke upon their guest, one that should be more amusing than
harmful. With this in mind, they looked forward eagerly to the night,
which was as quick in coming as the day, a day spent by the ducal pair
in pleasing conversation with Don Quixote.

It was on this day that the duchess really and truly dispatched one
of her pages--the one who in the wood had impersonated the enchanted
figure of Dulcinea--to Teresa Panza with the letter that her husband
had written her, and also with the bundle of clothes that Sancho had
left to be sent to her, the servant being duly charged to bring back a
full account of all that happened.651

The arrangements having been made, when Don Quixote retired to
his room at eleven o'clock he found there a guitar.652 He first tried it
out, then opened the window, and, perceiving that there was someone
in the garden, once more ran his hands over the frets, tuning the in-
strument as well as he could. Having done this, he spat and cleared
his throat and in a voice that was a little hoarse but well modulated
began singing the following ballad, which he had composed that very
day:653

　　　　　Love is mighty, love is powerful,
　　　　　Wrecks the heart without redress,
　　　　　And with maids the tool he uses
　　　　　Commonly is idleness.

　　　　　Let them sew, do household labor,
　　　　　Busied always they should be:
　　　　　Such the antidote most certain
　　　　　' Gainst Love's envenomed malady.

　　　　　Damsels modest and retiring,
　　　　　Who to marriage do aspire,
　　　　　Have their virtue for their dowry,
　　　　　Highest praise they could desire.

　　　　　Courtiers and knightly errants
　　　　　With the 'wanton take their ease,
　　　　　But to the good their troth is plighted,
　　　　　For modesty doth ever please.

　　　　　There are loves that start with morning,
　　　　　As between guests at an inn,
　　　　　But they quickly end at sunset--
　　　　　Ended ere they scarce begin.

　　　　　Here today and gone tomorrow,
　　　　　Love of that kind doth impart
　　　　　Little lasting joy or pleasure,
　　　　　Leaves no imprint on the heart.

　　　　　Painting laid upon a painting
　　　　　Makes a very sorry show;
　　　　　Where one beauty holds the canvas,
　　　　　None other can subdue its glow.

　　　　　On my own heart is engraven
　　　　　Dulcinea's image fair,
　　　　　And there's naught that can erase it,
　　　　　' Twill be always printed there.

　　　　　Loyalty's the thing most valued
　　　　　In the one who loves and sighs;
　　　　　It is this that doth work wonders,
　　　　　Raising him up to the skies.

Don Quixote had come to this point in his song, with the duke and
duchess, Altisidora, and nearly all the household listening, when sud-
denly from a gallery directly above his window they let down a rope
to which were attached more than a hundred bells, and then they
emptied a large bag filled with cats that had bells of a smaller size
fastened to their tails. And so great was the din of the bells and so loud
the squalling of the felines that even though the duke and duchess were
the ones who had thought up the joke, they still were startled by it
all. As for Don Quixote, he was quaking with fear. As luck would
have it, two or three of the cats came in through the window of his
room, darting from side to side, and it was as though a legion654 of devils
had been let loose there. As they ran about seeking a means of escape,
they put out the candles that were burning in the chamber. In the
meantime, those above kept hauling up and letting down the rope,
while the majority of the castle inmates, being unaware of what was
going on, were left gasping with astonishment.

Getting to his feet, Don Quixote drew his sword and started slashing
at the window grating as he shouted, "Away with you, malign en-
chanters! Out with you, witching rabble! Know that I am Don Quixote
de la Mancha, against whom your evil intentions are of no avail!"

Turning on the cats that were rushing around the room, he made
many thrusts at them, but they dashed for the window and leaped out
--all except one, which, upon finding itself thus belabored by Don
Quixote's sword, sprang at his face and seized his nose with its claws
and teeth, causing him to cry out with pain at the top of his voice.
When they heard this, the duke and duchess, who suspected what the
trouble was, ran to his room and opened the door with their master key,
only to behold the poor knight struggling with all the strength that
he had to pull the cat away from his face.

As they entered the chamber with lights in their hands, they had a
full view of the unequal combat; but when the duke came forward to
part the two, Don Quixote called to him, "Let no one take him away
from me! Leave me to fight this demon, this wizard, this enchanter
hand to hand. I will show him who Don Quixote de la Mancha is!"

The cat, however, only growled and held on; but the duke finally
pulled it off and tossed it out the window. Don Quixote's face was
perforated like a sieve and his nose was not in very good shape; yet for
all of that, he was very much displeased that they had not permitted him
to finish the hard-fought battle with that scoundrelly enchanter. They
then sent for some oil of Hypericum,655 and Altisidora herself, with her
fair white hands, applied bandages to all his wounds.

As she did so, she said to him in a low voice, "All these misfortunes
have befallen you, hardhearted knight, as a punishment for your stub-
born cruelty. I hope to God that Sancho, your squire, forgets to flog
himself so that your beloved Dulcinea may never be released from
her spell and you may never enjoy her or go with her to the marriage
bed, at least not so long as I, who adore you, am still among the liv-
ing."

To all this Don Quixote replied not a word. He merely heaved a deep
sigh and stretched out on his bed, after which he thanked his hosts for
their kindness, not because he had been afraid of that witching bell-
decked feline rabble, but because he was grateful to them for their
good intentions in coming to his aid. Leaving him to calm himself, the
duke and duchess thereupon took their departure, worried not a little
over the unfortunate outcome of the jest; for they had not thought
that this adventure would prove so painful and costly a one to the
knight. It did cost him five days in bed, where he had yet another, more
pleasant than the one just described, which the historian does not care
to relate at this time since he wishes to hurry back to Sancho Panza,
who all the while was going ahead with his government most diligently
and in a way that was very amusing.



Chapter XLVII.

Wherein is continued the account of how Sancho Panza
deported himself in his government.



THE history goes on to relate how they conducted Sancho from
the court to a sumptuous palace, where, in a great hall, a royal and
truly magnificent board was spread. He entered to the sound of flageo-
lets, and four pages came forward to present him with water that he
might wash his hands, which he did in a most dignified manner. As the
music ceased, he took the seat at the head of the table, that being the
only one there was, since no other place had been laid. An individual
with a whalebone wand in his hand, who later turned out to be a physi-
cian, then stationed himself at Sancho's side, after which they lifted up
a fine white cloth, revealing an assortment of fruit and many other
edibles of various sorts.

One who appeared to be a student said grace as a page put a lace bib
under the governor's chin and another who performed the functions
of a butler set a dish of fruit in front of him. No sooner had he taken
a bite, however, than the personage at his side touched the plate with
the wand and it was instantly removed. The butler thereupon presented
a dish containing other food, but before Sancho had had a chance to taste
it--indeed, before it had so much as come within his reach--the wand
had been laid upon it and a page had withdrawn it as swiftly as the other
attendant had borne away the fruit. Astonished at this, the governor
looked around at all the others present and demanded to know if this
meal was supposed to be eaten by sleight of hand.656

"Senor Governor," replied the man with the wand, "one may eat
here only in accordance with the usage and custom in other islands
where there are governors. I, sir, am a physician and am paid to serve
the rulers of this particular island. I am far more attentive to their
health than I am to my own, and study night and day to become ac-
quainted with my patient's constitution in order to be able to cure him
when he falls sick. My chief duty is to be present at his dinners and
suppers and permit him to eat only what is good for him while de-
priving him of anything that may do harm or injury to his stomach657
Thus I had them remove that dish of fruit for the reason that it con-
tained too much moisture, and I had them do the same with the other
dish because it was too hot and filled with spices that tend to increase
the thirst. For he who drinks much slays and consumes that radical
moisture wherein life consists."658

"Well, then," said Sancho, "that dish of roast partridges over there,
which appears to be very properly seasoned, surely will not hurt me."

"Ah," was the physician's answer, "so long as I live my lord the gov-
ernor shall not partake of those."

"And why not?" asked Sancho.

"For the reason that our master, Hippocrates, lodestar and luminary
of the science of medicine, in one of his aphorisms has stated: Omnis
saturatio mala, perdicis autem pessima; which is to say, 'All surfeit is
bad, but a surfeit of partridges is the worst of all.659

"If that be true," said Sancho, "will the Senor Doctor kindly see what
dishes there are on this table that will do me the most good and the least
harm and then let me eat them without any more tapping; for by the
life of the governor, and may God let me enjoy it, I'm dying of hunger,
and in spite of the Senor Doctor and all that he may say, to deny me
food is to take my life and not to prolong it."

"Your Grace is right, my Lord Governor," replied the physician.
"And so, I may tell you that in my opinion you should not eat of those
stewed rabbits, for it is a furry kind of food.660 And that veal--if it were
not roasted and pickled, you might try it, but as it is, there can be no
question of your doing so."

"Take that big dish," said Sancho, "that I see smoking down there
--it looks to me like an olla-podrida;661 and, considering all the differ-
ent things that go to make it up, I can't fail to hit upon something that
will be tasty and at the same time good for me."

"Absit" declared the doctor. "Let us put far from us any such evil
thought as that. There is nothing in the world that affords less nourish-
ment than an olla-podrida. Save them for canons, university rectors, or
peasant weddings. Its presence is out of place on the tables of gov-
ernors, where all should be delicacy and refinement. The reason for this
is that always, everywhere and by everybody, simple medicines are
more esteemed than are the compounded ones, since in the case of the
former it is impossible to make a mistake whereas with the others one
may readily do so by altering the proportion of the ingredients. In my
opinion, what my Lord Governor should eat at the present time is a
hundred wafers662 and a few thin slices of quince marmalade, which will
be good for the stomach and an aid to digestion."

Upon hearing this, Sancho leaned back in his chair and, staring hard
at the doctor, asked him what his name was and where he had studied.

"I, my Lord Governor, am Doctor Pedro Recio de Aguero, native
of the village of Tirteafuera,663 which is on the right-hand side going
from Caracuel to Almodovar del Campo, and I hold the degree of doc-
tor from the University of Osuna."664

Sancho was greatly incensed by now. "Very well, let the Senor Doc-
tor Pedro Recio de Mal-Aguero, graduate of Osuna and native of
Tirteafuera, a village which is on the right-hand side as we come from
Caracuel to Almodovar del Campo--let him get out of here at once;
for, if he does not, I swear by the sun that I will take a club and by
making use of it, starting with him, will see to it that there is not a
doctor left in this whole island, or, at any rate, none of those that I
look upon as being ignorant. As for the wise, prudent, and learned ones,
I will honor them as divine beings.665 And so I say once more, let Pedro
Recio be gone or I will take this chair in which I am sitting and break
it over his head; and if I am called into court for it, I will clear myself
by saying that I did God a service by slaying a bad physician and a
public executioner. Either give me something to eat or take back your
government; a trade that does not feed the one who practices it is not
worth two beans."

The doctor was terrified when he saw how wrathful the governor
was and would have made a Tirteafuera666 of that room if at that mo-
ment the sound of a post horn had not been heard in the street. Going
over to the window, the butler turned and said, "A courier from the
duke, my lord; he must bring some message of importance." The courier
entered, covered with sweat and very much agitated, and, drawing a
paper from his bosom, he handed it to the major-domo, who read aloud
the superscription, which ran as follows:

　　　TO DON SANCHO PANZA, GOVERNOR OF THE
ISLAND OF BARATARIA, TO BE DELIVERED INTO HIS
　　　　　　HANDS OR THOSE OF HIS SECRETARY.

"Who here is my secretary?" inquired Sancho when he heard this.
"I, my lord," one of those present spoke up, "for I know how to read
and write and I am a Biscayan."667

"With what you have just added," remarked Sancho, "you could well
be secretary to the emperor himself. Open that paper and see what it
says."

The newly fledged668 secretary did so and, having perused the con-
tents of the letter, announced that the matter was one to be discussed in
private. Sancho thereupon ordered them to clear the hall, and when
the doctor and all the others with the exception of the major-domo and
the butler had gone, the secretary proceeded to read the communication:

　　It has come to my knowledge, Senor Don Sancho Panza, that cer-
　　tain enemies of mine and of the island are planning to launch a furi-
　　ous assault upon it one of these nights, and it will accordingly be
　　necessary for you to keep a watch and be on the alert in order not
　　to be taken unawares. I have further learned through trustworthy
　　scouts that four persons have entered your village in disguise with
　　the object of taking your life, for the reason that they fear your
　　great ability. Keep your eyes open, observe closely all who come up
　　to speak to you, and eat nothing that is offered you. I will send aid
　　to you if I see that you are in trouble. Meanwhile, in all instances, you
　　are. to do the thing that is to be expected of your good judgment.

　　From this village, the 16th of August, at four o'clock in the morn-
　　ing. Your friend,

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The Duke.

Sancho was astonished, and so, apparently, were the others. "The
thing to be done now," said the governor, "and it must be done at once,
is to throw Doctor Recio into jail; for if anybody is out to kill me, he
must be the one, and he means to do it by slow starvation, which is the
worst kind of death."669

"Moreover," said the butler, "it is my opinion that your Grace should
not eat any of the food that is on this table, for it was a donation from
some nuns, and, as the saying goes, behind the cross lurks the deviL'670

"I do not deny it," replied Sancho, "and so for the present give me a
slice of bread and three or four pounds of grapes; there can be no
poison in that. The truth of the matter is, I cannot go on without eating.
If we are to be ready for those battles that threaten us, we must be
well nourished; for it is the tripes that carry the heart and not the other
way around 671 As for you, my secretary, reply to my lord, the duke,
and tell him that I will carry out his orders exactly as he gives them.
And say to my lady the duchess that I kiss her hands and beg her to
send a special messenger with the letter and bundle for my wife, Teresa
Panza, as that will be a great favor to me, and I will do all in my power
to serve her in any way that I can. While you are about it, you may
also put in a kiss of the hands for my master, Don Quixote de la Mancha,
that he may see that I am grateful for his bread which I have eaten. As
a good secretary and a good Biscayan, you may add whatever you like
and is most to the point. And now take away this cloth and give me
something to eat and I'll be ready for all the spies, murderers, and en-
chanters that may descend on me or on this island of mine."

A page now came in. "There is a farmer outside who would like a
word with your Lordship on a matter of business. He says it is very
important."

"It is strange about these people who come to see me on business,"
said Sancho. "Is it possible they are so foolish as not to see that this
is no time for things of that sort--We governors, we judges, are we not
flesh-and-blood beings--Are we not to be allowed the time that is
necessary for taking a little rest--unless they would have us made of
blocks of marble--By God and upon my conscience, if this government
of mine holds out (and I have a feeling that it won't), I'll have more
than one of these fellows who come on business hauled up short. For
the present, show this good man in, but make sure first that he is not one
of those spies or killers that are after me."

"No, sir," replied the page, "I do not think he is; for he appears to
be a simple soul,672 and either I miss my guess or he's as good as good
bread."673

"There is nothing to be afraid of," added the major-domo, "for we
are all here."

"Butler," said Sancho, "would it be possible, now that Doctor Recio
is no longer with us, for me to eat something with a little body and
substance to it, even if it is only a slice of bread and an onion?"

"Tonight at supper," the butler informed him, "your Lordship will
be fully compensated for what was lacking at dinner."

"God grant it may be so," was Sancho's answer.

At this point the farmer appeared. He made a very favorable im-
pression; for it could be seen from a thousand leagues away that he was
a worthy man and a good soul.

"Who is the governor here?" was the first thing he asked.

"Who would it be," said the secretary, "if not the one who occupies
that seat?"

"Then, I humble myself in his presence," said the man; and, dropping
to his knees, he sought to kiss the governors hand, but Sancho would
not permit it. Instead, he bade him rise and state what he wanted. The
petitioner did so.

"Sir," he began, "I am a farmer, a native of Miguelturra, a village two
leagues distant from Ciudad Real."

"I see we have another Tirteafuera," observed Sancho. "Say what you
have to say, brother; for I will say to you that I know Miguelturra very
well, as it is not very far from my town."

"Well, then, sir," continued the farmer, "this is the case that I would
lay before you. By the grace of God I was married, in the peace and
with the blessing of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. I have two sons
who are students. The younger is studying to be a bachelor and the
older one to be a licentiate. I am a widower. My wife died, or, more
properly speaking, a stupid doctor killed her by giving her a purge when
she was pregnant. If it had pleased God to let the child be born and it
had been a boy, I would have had him study to be a doctor so that he
would not be jealous of his brothers, the licentiate and the bachelor."

"And in the same way," put in Sancho, "if your wife had not died or
been killed, you would not now be a widower?"

"No, sir, of course not," replied the farmer.

"Well," said Sancho, "we are coming along; but hurry, brother, for
it is nearer bedtime than business time."

"I will inform you," the farmer went on, "that this son of mine who is
studying to be a bachelor has fallen in love with a lass in the same town
by the name of Clara Perlerina, daughter of Andres Perlerino, another
farmer and a very rich one. That name, I may tell you, is not one that
has been handed down for generations but is due to the fact that all the
members of this family are paralytics, and by way of improving on it
they call them Perlerines.674

"If the truth be told, this lass is like an oriental pearl or a flower of
the field only when you look at her from the right-hand side; from the
left-hand, not so much so, for on that side one eye is missing which she
lost when she had the smallpox. The pockmarks on her face are many
and large, but those who are fond of her will assert that those are not
scars at all but graves where the hearts of her lovers he buried. She is
so neat that ; in order not to dirty her face, she carries her nose turned
up, as they say, so that it looks as if it were running away from her
mouth. But, with all this, she is very good-looking. Her mouth is wide,
and if it were not that ten or a dozen front teeth and grinders are miss-
ing, she might pass as one of the comeliest of maidens.

"Of her lips I shall say nothing, for they are so thin and delicate that,
if it were the custom to use lips for such a purpose, one might wind
them in a skein. Their color is different from that which is commonly
seen, and the effect is marvelous: they are speckled with blue, green,
and an eggplant hue--But pardon me, Sir Governor, for painting in such
detail one who, when all is said, is destined to be my daughter. I love
her and to me she is not bad-looking."675

"Do all the painting you like," said Sancho. "I'm enjoying it, and if I
had only had my dinner, I wouldn't ask for a better dessert than this
portrait of yours."

"That," replied the farmer, "is something which I have yet to serve,676
but we will get to it in due time. I can only assure you, sir, that if I
could but paint for you her tall figure and her bodily charms, you
would find cause for astonishment; but this cannot be, for the reason
that she is so bent and stooped that her knees touch her mouth, yet it is
plain to be seen that if she could draw herself erect her head would
scrape the roof. She would long since have given her hand to my bache-
lor son if she had been able to stretch it out, but it happens to be
shrunken; nevertheless, you can tell from her broad, furrowed nails
how elegant and shapely it is."

"That will do, brother," said Sancho. "You may consider that you
have painted her from head to foot. What is it you want now--Come to
the point without all this beating around the bush and all these odds and
ends that you are tagging on to the story."

"What I desire, sir," the farmer went on, "is for your Grace to give
me a letter of recommendation to her father, asking him to be so good
as to let this marriage take place. We are not badly matched in the mat-
ter of worldly fortune or gifts of nature; for, to tell you the truth, Sir
Governor, my son is bewitched, and there is not a day that the evil
spirits do not torment him three or four times. Once he fell into the
fire, and as a result his face is as shriveled as a bit of parchment. His
eyes, too, are somewhat watery. But he has the disposition of an angel,
and if it wasn't for his always flaying and punching himself with his
fist, he'd be a saint."

"Is there anything else you would like, my good man?" Sancho in-
quired.

"There is," replied the farmer, "though I hesitate to mention it. But
come, come, in any case I cannot let it go on rotting in my bosom. Sir,
I would have your Grace give me from three to six hundred ducats to
help make up my bachelor son's dowry, by which I mean, to help him
set up housekeeping; for, after all, they must live by themselves, with-
out being subjected to the meddling of their families."

"Think it over well," said Sancho, "and see if there is anything else.
Don't be bashful but speak right out."

"No, I am quite sure there isn't."

No sooner did the man say this than the governor rose to his feet and
picked up the chair in which he had been sitting.

"I swear, Don Country Bumpkin!" he cried, "if you don't get out
of my sight at once, you unmannerly lout, and go hide yourself some-
where, I'll take this chair and lay your head wide open! Son of a whore,
rascal, devil's painter! Is this any time to come asking me for six hun-
dred ducats--Where would I get them, you stinking cur--And if I
did have them, why should I give them to a crafty dunce like you--
What is Miguelturra or the whole Perlerines family to me--Away with
you, or by the life of the duke, my lord, I'll do what I said! I don't
think you are from Miguelturra at all; you are some scoundrel that Hell
has sent here to tempt me! Tell me, you wretch: I've not had the gov-
ernment a day and a half yet, and where do you expect me to lay hands
on six hundred ducats?"

The butler motioned to the farmer to leave the room, which he did,
hanging his head, for the fellow was obviously afraid that the gov-
ernor would carry out his angry threat. (The rogue knew how to play
his part very well.) But let us leave Sancho with his anger, and peace
to them all, while we return to Don Quixote, who, when we last saw
him, had his face treated and bandaged as a result of the cat wounds,
from which he was not cured in a week's time. Meanwhile, during that
week, something happened to him one day which Cid Hamete prom-
ises to relate with that truth and exactitude that mark every detail, how-
ever small, of this great history.



CHAPTER XLVIII.

Of what happened to Don Quixote and Dona Rodriguez, duenna to the
duchess, with other events worthy of record and of eternal remembrance.



THE badly wounded Don Quixote was exceedingly melancholy and
dejected, with his bandaged face which bore the marks not of God's
hand677 but of the claws of a cat, this being one of the misfortunes that
are the accompaniment of knight-errantry. For six days he did not go out
in public; and one night as he lay wide awake, thinking of all his troubles
and of how Altisidora was pursuing him, he heard the door of his room
being opened with a key, and at once he leaped to the conclusion that
the enamored maiden must be coming to make an assault upon his vir-
tue and cause him to waver in that fidelity that he owed to his lady,
Dulcinea del Toboso.

"No!" he cried aloud, convinced of the truth of his imaginings, "for
the sake of the greatest beauty on earth I shall not cease to adore the
one who is stamped and engraved upon my heart of hearts, who is
hidden away in the depths of my bowels! O lady mine, thou may'st
be transformed now into an ungainly678 peasant lass and now into a
nymph of the gilded Tagus, weaving tapestries of gold and silk.679 Merlin
or Montesinos may hold thee captive where they will; but wherever it
may be, thou art mine; and wherever I may be, I am thine."

Even as he finished saying this the door opened, and he immediately
stood up in the bed, wrapped from head to foot in a yellow satin cover-
let, with a nightcap on his head and with his face and mustaches swathed
in bandages--his face by reason of the scratches and his mustaches to
keep them from drooping and falling down--all of which gave him
the most extraordinary and fantastic appearance that could possibly
be conceived. Watchfully he kept his eyes fastened on the door, ex-
pecting to see Altisidora enter, in tears and ready to yield herself; but,
instead, he beheld a most dignified duenna in a long, white-bordered
veil, so long that it enveloped her entire body like a cloak all the way
down to her feet. In her left hand she carried a half-burned candle,
while with her right hand she shaded it to keep the light out of her eyes,
which were concealed behind a pair of huge spectacles. She came tread-
ing softly and cautiously.

Don Quixote gazed upon her from his watchtower and, noting her
garb and the silence which she was careful to maintain, decided that
it must be some witch or sorceress who had come in this guise to do
him harm, and he began crossing himself with great fervor. The ap-
parition, meanwhile, was drawing nearer, and when it reached the
middle of the room it raised its eyes and let them rest upon the knight
as he stood there furiously making the sign of the cross. If he was ter-
rified at the sight of such a figure as this, the specter in turn was equally
frightened by the tall yellow form in the coverlet with a face muffled
in bandages.

"Jesus!" screamed the visitor. "What is this I see?" And she gave
such a start that the candle fell from her hands, leaving the room in
darkness. With this, she turned her back and made for the door, but in
her terror tripped over her skirt and came down to the floor with a tre-
mendous thud.

Don Quixote was very much alarmed. "O phantom," he said, "or
whatever thou art, I conjure thee to tell me who thou art and what it
is that thou desirest of me. If thou beest a soul in torment, speak out,
and I will do for thee all that lies within my power; for I am a Catholic
Christian and like to do good to everyone. It was with this purpose in
view that I took up the profession of knight-errantry, a calling that
extends even to the helping of souls in purgatory.

The bewildered duenna, upon hearing herself conjured in this man-
ner, was able to judge of Don Quixote s fear from the fright which she
herself felt.

"Senor Don Quixote," she said, "if that, perchance, is who you are, I
am no ghost nor apparition nor soul out of purgatory as your Grace
must have thought. I am Dona Rodriguez, maid of honor to my lady
the duchess, and I come to you with one of those wrongs that your
Grace is in the habit of redressing."

"Tell me one thing, Senora Dona Rodriguez," said the knight, "has
your Grace perhaps come here as a go-between--For I would have you
know that I am not at the disposal of anyone, thanks to the peerless
beauty of my lady Dulcinea del Toboso. In short, if you but put aside
all love messages, you may go back to light your candle and return,
and we will then discuss whatever it is that you would have me do,
with the exception, as I have said, of any kind of amorous dalliance.

"I carry love messages, my good sir?" replied the duenna. Little does
your Grace know me. I am not so old as to indulge in such child's play
as that. What's more, praise God, my soul is still in the flesh and I have
all my teeth and grinders in my mouth, save for a few which I lost
owing to the colds that are so common in this land of Aragon. If your
Grace will wait a moment, I will go light my candle and will be back
in an instant to relate my woes to the one who is capable of remedying
those of all the world."

And without giving him time to answer she went out the door f leav-
ing Don Quixote in a thoughtful mood as he quietly waited for her to
return. Then, of a sudden, a thousand suspicions assailed him regarding
this new adventure, which impressed him as being ill fashioned and
worse conceived, since it placed him in danger of having to break his
plighted troth to his lady.

"Who knows," he said to himself, "but that the devil, who is subtle
and cunning, may be trying to deceive me now with a duenna, which
is something he has not been able to accomplish with empresses, queens,
marchionesses, or countesses--I have often heard it said by the wise that,
if he has his way, he will give you a flat-nosed female rather than one
with a Roman nose any time.680 May it not be that this solitude, this si-
lence, and the opportunity that is afforded me, will awaken my sleeping
desires and lead me, at the end of my life's span, to fall where I never
before have stumbled--In such cases it is better to flee than to stand
one's ground and give battle.

"But surely," he went on, "I cannot be in my right mind to be say-
ing and thinking such nonsense as this! It is impossible that a tall, lank,
white-hooded duenna in spectacles should arouse a lascivious thought
in the bosom of the most graceless wretch in this world. Is there a duenna
on this earth who is fair of body--Is there a duenna in the world who is
not meddlesome, wrinkled, and prudish--Away with you, then, the
whole duenna crew, seeing that ye serve no human pleasure! Oh, how
right that lady was of whom it is said that she kept two stuffed duennas,
with their spectacles and cushions, at the far end of her reception hall,
just as if they were sitting there at work on their embroidery, and those
figurines conferred as much respectability upon the room as if they
had been real flesh-and-blood matrons!"

Saying this, he flung himself out of bed with the intention of bolting
the door and not permitting Senora Rodriguez to enter again; but, just
as he was about to do so, that lady returned with a lighted white wax
candle, and when she saw Don Quixote at dose hand, wrapped in the
coverlet, with his bandages, nightcap, and all, she was once more afraid.

"Am I, safe, Sir Knight?" she asked, falling back a step or two. "For
I do not look upon it as very decent on your part to have left your bed."

"Lady," replied Don Quixote, "that is a question which I well might
ask of you. In fact, I do ask you if I am safe from being attacked and
raped."

"Of whom do you demand this assurance, Sir Knight, and of whom
are you thinking when you ask it?"

"I ask it of you," said Don Quixote, "and it is you that I have in mind;
for I am not made of marble nor you of brass. This is not ten o'clock
in the morning but midnight, or a little later than that, I fancy, and we
are in a room that is more closed in and secret than that cave must have
been where the bold and faithless Aeneas enjoyed the beauty of tender-
hearted Dido. But give me your hand, lady, for I ask no greater security
than my own modesty and continence and such as is afforded me by
that most venerable headdress."681

With this, he kissed his own right hand and took hold of hers, which
she extended to him with the same degree of ceremony.

(Here, Cid Hamete inserts a parenthesis in which he swears by Mo-
hammed that to have seen the two walking hand and hand like this from
the door to the bed he would have given the better of the two cloaks
that he had.)

Finally Don Quixote went back to bed while Doha Rodriguez re-
mained seated in a chair some distance away. She was still holding her
candle and wearing her spectacles. He then huddled down and covered
himself until only his face was visible; and when they both were settled,
he broke the silence.

"Now, my lady Doha Rodriguez ," he said, "your Grace may un-
burden herself. Tell me everything that is in your anguished heart and
grieving bowels. You shall be heard with chaste ears and succored with
deeds of compassion."

"That I can well believe," replied the duenna, "for so Christian a
response as the one you have given me was the only thing to be ex-
pected of your kind and charming self. I will tell you, then, Scnor Don
Quixote, that although your Grace sees me here seated in this chair, in
the heart of the kingdom of Aragon, wearing the attire of an old worn-
out duenna, I am in reality a native of Asturias on the Oviedo side,682 and
I come of a family that is related to many of the best in that province.
But owing to my own ill luck and the negligence of my parents, who
somehow or other lost their fortune at an early date, I was brought to
the court of Madrid, where, for the sake of security and in order to pre-
vent greater misfortunes, I was placed as a seamstress with a lady of
rank--and I may inform your Grace that when it comes to any kind of
needlework, no one in all my life has ever surpassed me. My parents left
me there in service and returned to their own country; and a few years
later they went to Heaven, in all probability, for they were very good
Catholic Christians. I thus became an orphan dependent upon the misera-
ble wage and paltry favors which servant girls in a palace customarily
receive.

"Then it was, without my having given him any occasion for doing so,
that a squire in that household fell in love with me. He was a man well
along in years, bearded and personable, and, above all, he was as much
a gentleman as the king himself, for he was a highlander.683 We were
not able to keep our love so secret but that it came to the notice of
my mistress, who without more ado had us married in the peace and
with the blessing of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. Of that marriage
a daughter was born, to put an end to my good fortune if I ever had
any. True, I did not succumb in childbed, which I passed through safely
and in season; but my husband died shortly afterward of a shock that he
had--if there were time to tell you of it, I am sure your Grace would
marvel at it."

At this point she began weeping bitterly. "Pardon me, Schor Don
Quixote," she said, "if I am unable to control myself; every time that I
think of my poor unfortunate husband, my eyes brim with tears. God
bless me, how dignified he used to look as he rode along carrying my
mistress behind him on the crupper of a jet-black mule! For in those
days they did not have coaches and chairs684 as they tell me they do now,
but ladies rode behind their squires in the manner I have mentioned.

"This much at least I must tell you, in order that you may see how
well bred and punctilious my worthy husband was. As he was enter-
ing the Calle de Santiago in Madrid, which is a rather narrow street, a
judge of the court with two constables in front of him was coming
out of it. As soon as my good squire saw the judge, he turned the mule
and made as if to accompany the magistrate, but my lady, who was on
the crupper, whispered to him, 'What are you doing, you wretch--
Don't you know that I am here?' The judge, being a courteous gentle-
man, reined in his horse and said, 'Continue on your way, sir; it is I
who should accompany my lady, Dona Casilda'--for that was my mis-
tress's name. My husband, however, cap in hand, insisted on going
with the judge; and when she saw this, my mistress, vexed and angry,
drew out a big pin--a bodkin, I think it was--from her needlecase and
stuck it into my husband's back so forcefully that he gave a loud scream
and fell writhing to the ground, bringing my lady with him.

"Her two lackeys came running to lift her up and the judge and his
bailiffs did the same. The Guadalajara Gate685 was in a hubbub--I am
referring to the idlers there. My mistress returned home on foot while
my husband hurried to the barber's,686 saying that his intestines had
been pierced. His courtesy became the talk of the town, to such an
extent that small boys ran after him in the street. For this reason and
because he was somewhat shortsighted my lady dismissed him, and this
in my opinion was what brought on his death.687 I was left a widow with
no one to protect me and with a daughter to care for who was growing in
beauty like the foam of the sea.

"At last, as a result of my reputation as a seamstress, my lady the
duchess, who had recently been married to my lord the duke, offered
to bring me with her to this kingdom of Aragon, and my daughter as
well, who, as time went by, grew up to be one of the most accomplished
young ladies to be found anywhere: she sings like a lark; she is like fancy
itself as she goes through the stately movements of the court dances,
while in the dances of the people she trips it like a mad woman;688 she
reads and writes like a schoolmaster and does sums like a miser. Of the
neatness of her person I say nothing: running water is not cleaner than
she. She must be now, if I remember rightly, sixteen years, five months,
and three days old--a day more or less.

"But to get on with my story: The son of a very rich farmer, in a
village not far from here that belongs to my lord the duke, fell in love
with her. How it happened I do not know, but they came together and,
under promise of marrying her, he made a fool of my daughter and now
is unwilling to keep his word. My lord the duke is aware of this, for I
have complained to him not one but many times, imploring him to order
that farmer's son to marry her, but he turns a deaf ear689 and scarcely
listens to me. The reason is that the young deceiver's father is so rich;
he lends the duke money and goes security for his debts from time to
time, and so my lord docs not wish to offend him or give him trouble of
any sort.

"What I would ask of you, then, my good sir, is that you take it upon
yourself to undo this wrong, either by entreaties or by force of arms;
for everyone says that you were born into the world for that purpose:
to redress grievances and protect the wretched. Let your Grace bear
in mind that my daughter is an orphan; think of her youth, her charm,
and all those accomplishments of which I have told you. For I swear
to God and upon my conscience that of all the damsels that my lady
has in attendance upon her, there is not one that comes up to the sole
of my daughter's shoe. Take that one whom they call Altisidora and
who is regarded as the sprightliest and gayest of the lot: in comparison
with my daughter she is two leagues and more away. For, my dear sir,
I may remind you that all is not gold that glitters. In this girl Altisidora
there is more of presumption than of beauty and more of sprightliness
than of modesty. What is more, she is none too healthy. Her breath is
so bad that one cannot bear to be near her for a moment, and even my
lady the duchess--but I must be silent, for as the saying goes, walls have
ears."

"Upon my life, Senora Doha Rodriguez," said Don Quixote, "what
ails my lady the duchess?"

"Seeing that you adjure me in this manner," replied the duenna, "I
can do no more than answer you in all truthfulness. You are aware,
Senor Don Quixote, of my lady's beauty: that complexion of hers
which is like a smooth-polished sword; those cheeks of milk and carmine,
one of which is like the sun while the other resembles the moon;690 that
lightsome step with which she barely skims the ground. From all of
this would it not seem that she radiates health wherever she goes--But
I would have your Grace know, she may first of all thank God for it,
and in the second place she may be grateful for two issues that she has,
one in each leg, through which are discharged all the evil humors of
which the doctors say she is full."691

"Holy Mary!" exclaimed Don Quixote, "and is it possible that my
lady the duchess has drains of that sort--I should not have believed it if
the barefoot friars had told me, but seeing that it is Senora Dona Rodri-
guez who so informs me, then it must be so. But such issues and in such
places ought not to drain off humors, but, rather, liquid amber. Truly,
now, I am beginning to be convinced that this matter of opening issues
is important for the health."

No sooner had Don Quixote said this than the door of the room was
thrown open with a loud bang. Doha Rodriguez was so startled that
she again let the candle fall, and the room became as dark as a wolf's
mouth, as the saying has it. Then the poor duenna felt a pair of hands
closing about her throat so tightly that she could not even croak, while
another person without saying a word, lifted her petticoats and, with
what appeared to be a slipper, began giving her such a spanking that
it was piteous to behold. Don Quixote, indeed, felt pity for her, but
for all of that he did not stir from his bed. Not knowing what the
meaning of it was, he lay there quietly, fearful lest his turn should come
next. His fears were justified. Having given the duenna (who did not
dare cry out) a thorough drubbing, the silent executioners fell upon
the knight. Stripping the sheet and coverlet from him, they pinched
him so hard and fast that there was nothing for him to do but defend
himself with his fists; all of which took place in a silence that was truly
astonishing.

The battle lasted for something like half an hour, at the end of which
time the phantom figures departed. Pulling down her skirts and be-
moaning her ill fortune, Doha Rodriguez went out the door without
a word to Don Quixote. Here we shall leave him to his solitude, sorely
pinched, bewildered, and downcast, wondering who the perverse en-
chanter could be who had placed him in such a predicament. All this,
however, will be told in due time. Sancho Panza is calling us now, and
the proper arrangement of this history demands that we give him our
attention.



Chapter XLIX.

Of what happened to Sancho Panza as he made the rounds of his island.



LEFT the great governor angry and out of sorts with the roguish
farmer-painter, who, put up to it by the major-domo and the major-
domo in turn by the duke, had been making sport of him. Sancho, none-
theless, though he may have been but a simpleton, a stupid boor, con-
trived to hold his own against them all. He now addressed himself to
those present, including Doctor Recio, who had returned to the room
as soon as the business of the duke's confidential letter was out of the
way.

"By this time," he said, "I see plainly that judges and governors ought
to be made of brass so that they might not have to listen to those who
come to petition them and who insist that they be heard and their busi-
ness disposed of, no matter what the time or season. And if the poor
judge does not hear them and attend to their requests, either because
he is unable to do so or because it is not the time set aside for audiences,
then they at once begin to curse and slander him, gnawing at his bones
and even assailing his family tree. O silly petitioner, foolish petitioner,
do not be in such haste as that, but wait for the proper occasion and
opportunity. Come neither at mealtime nor at bedtime, for judges are
of flesh and blood and must satisfy the needs of nature. All except me,
that is to say; for thanks to the Senor Doctor Pedro Recio Tirteafuera,
who stands before me here, I cannot satisfy my natural need of eating.
He would have me die of hunger, and to this form of death he gives
the name of life--may God give him and all his stripe that kind of life,
say I, and the same goes for all bad doctors, while the good one merits
palms and laurels."

All those who were acquainted with Sancho Panza were astonished
at hearing him use such elegant language and did not know to what to
attribute it unless it was that offices carrying grave responsibilities
sharpened the wits of some men while in the case of others the effect
was merely stupefying. Doctor Pedro Recio Aguero of Tirteafuera
finally promised that the governor should have his supper that night
even though it might be in violation of all the aphorisms of Hippocrates,692
and with this Sancho was content. He waited eagerly for night and the
supper hour to come, and although it seemed to him that time was
standing still, the hour so longed for arrived at last. They then served
him a dish of beef and onions with a few boiled calves' feet that were
rather stale. He fell to, however, more heartily than if they had set
before him francolins from Milan, Roman pheasants, veal of Sorrento,
partridges from Moron, or geese from Lavajos.

"See here, Senor Doctor," he said in the course of the meal, "from
now on you needn't bother to give me dainty dishes or anything special
as it would only unhinge my stomach, which is used to goat's meat,
beef, bacon, hung beef, turnips, and onions. If I am given other victuals
of the kind they serve in palaces, my stomach will turn squeamish and
I'll sometimes be sick. What the butler may do is this: he may serve me
what are known as ollas-podridas (for the more rotten they are, the
better they smell ).693 He may put whatever he likes into them, so long
as it is something good to eat, and I will thank him for it, and pay him
for it, too, someday. But don't let anyone try to play any jokes on me,
for either we are or we are not, and so let us all live together and eat
our food in peace and good fellowship. When God'sends the dawn,
it is daylight for all.694 I mean to govern this island without giving up a
right or taking a bribe.695 Let everyone keep his eyes open and look out
for the arrow.696 For I would have you know that the devil's in Can-
tillana,697 and if they give me cause for it, they're going to see marvels.
Make yourself into honey and the flies will eat you!"698

"Senor Governor," replied the butler, "there is certainly much truth
in what you have said, and I promise you in the name of all the in-
habitants of this island that they will serve your Grace faithfully, will-
ingly, and affectionately; for the mild way in which you have begun
to govern affords them no excuse for doing or thinking anything that
would be a disservice to your Grace."

"That I can believe," said Sancho, "since they would be fools to think
or do anything of the sort. Once more I say to you: see to feeding
me and my gray; that is the important thing and most to the point. When
the time comes, we will make the rounds. It is my intention to rid this
island of all kinds of trash, of all good-for-nothing loafers and vaga-
bonds; for I would have you know, my friends, that the lazy and idle
are to a state what drones are to a hive, which eat the honey that the
worker bees have made. I propose to aid the farmer, to preserve the
privileges of gentlemen, to reward the virtuous, and, above all, to re-
spect religion and to honor those in holy orders.699 What do you think
of that, my friends--Is there something in what I say or not?"

"There is so much in what your Grace says," the major-domo assured
him, "that I am indeed astonished to hear a man wholly unlettered, as
I believe your Grace to be, uttering so many wise maxims and ob-
servations, all of which is quite contrary to what was expected of your
Grace's intelligence by those who sent us and by us who came here with
you. Each day new things are seen in this world, jests are turned into
earnest and the jesters are mocked."

Night came, and the governor had his supper with permission of the
Senor Doctor Redo.700 They then prepared to make the rounds, and
Sancho set out accompanied by the major-domo, the secretary, the
butler, a chronicler whose duty it was to record his deeds, and a num-
ber of bailiffs and notaries, enough to form a fair-sized squadron. In the
midst of them all walked Sancho with his staff of office in hand, as fine
a sight as one could wish to see. They had traversed but a few streets
of the town when they heard the noise of clashing swords. Upon hasten-
ing to the spot, they found only two men, who, when they saw the
authorities approaching, at once ceased fighting.

"Help, in God's name and the King's!" cried one of the swordsmen.
"Does one here have to put up with being openly robbed and set upon
in the middle of the street?"

"Be quiet, my good fellow," said Sancho, "and tell me what is the
cause of this quarrel; for I am the governor."

The other man now spoke up. "Senor Governor," he said, "I will
tell you, very briefly. Your Grace should know that in that gambling
house directly across the way this man has just won, God knows how,
more than a thousand reales. I was present at the time and judged more
than one doubtful point in his favor, very much against the dictates of
my conscience, after which he made off with what he had won. I had
expected him to give me a crown or so out of his winnings,701 such being
the custom where gentlemen of my rank look on to see whether the
play is fair or foul and to support those who are actually losers and thus
prevent brawls. He, however, pocketed his money and left the house,
and, angered at this, I followed him.

"Very civilly and courteously I asked him to let me have at least eight
reales, as he knows me to be a respectable individual and one without
employment or income, my parents having given me no profession and
left me no property. But Cacus is not a bigger thief nor Andradilla702
a worse sharper than this rogue. He would not part with more than four
reales, from which, Senor Governor, you may see how little shame and
conscience he has! But, in faith, if your Grace had not arrived when
you did, I would have made him disgorge those winnings of his and
he'd have learned how to balance the scales."703

"What have you to say to that?" Sancho inquired of the first swords-
man.

The other replied that all his antagonist had said was true, adding that
he had felt that four reales was enough, since he very often gave the
man money, and those who expect gratuities704 from players ought to
be polite and accept with a cheerful countenance whatever is offered
them, without making any demands on the winners unless they know
for a certainty that the latter's gains are ill gotten. There was, he pointed
out, no better proof that he was an honest man, and not a thief as his
accuser had stated, than the fact that he had at first refused to give
anything; for sharpers always have to pay tribute to the onlookers
who are acquainted with them.

"That is true," observed the major-domo; "and now, my Lord Gov-
ernor, it is for your Grace to decide what is to be done with these
men "

"What is to be done with them," said Sancho, "is this: you, the
winner, whether you won by fair, foul, or indifferent means, will im-
mediately pay this bully a hundred reales, and you will disburse thirty
more for the poor prisoners. As for you who have neither occupation
nor source of income but roam about with nothing to do, you will take
those hundred reales and before tomorrow night will leave this island
under sentence of banishment for ten years. If you violate that sen-
tence, you will serve the remainder of it in the life to come, for I will
hang you on a gibbet, or the public executioner, at any rate, will do it
for me. And not a word from either of you or I will let you feel the
weight of my hand."

The one man thereupon paid over the money and went on home,
and the other, who received it, promptly left the island.

"Either I am not good for much," remarked Sancho when it was all
' over, "or I will do away with these gambling houses, for it seems to me
that much harm comes from them."

"This one, at least," said one of the notaries, "your Grace will not be
able to do away with, for it is kept by a very important personage, and
what he loses in the course of the year is beyond all comparison more
than what he makes by the cards. Against other houses, of less im-
portance, your Grace may take action, and they are the ones that do
the most harm and conceal the most flagrant abuses. In the houses of
gentlemen of rank and of noblemen, notorious sharpers do not dare to
play their tricks; and, seeing that gambling has now become a common
vice, it is better that it be done there than in the home of some artisan,705
where they catch a poor fellow in the small hours of the morning and
skin him alive."

"I can see, notary," replied Sancho, "that there is much to be said
as to that."

A constable now came up, grasping a youth by the arm. "My Lord
Governor," he said, "this young man was coming toward us, and as
soon as he caught sight of the officers of the law he started running like
a deer, a sign that he must be an evildoer of some sort. I set out after
him, and if it had not been that he stumbled and fell, I'd never have
overtaken him."

"Why were you running away, my man?" asked Sancho.

"Sir," replied the youth, "it was to avoid answering all the ques-
tions that the officers put to you."

"What is your trade?"

"A weaver."

"And what do you weave?"

"Lance points, with your Grace's kind permission."

"So, you are being funny with me, are you--You pride yourself on
being a great joker, I suppose--Very well. And where were you bound
for just now?"

"To take the air."

"And where do you take the air in this island?"

"Where it blows."

"Good enough; you answer very much to the point; you're a clever
young man. But please note that I am the air, and I am blowing on your
poop right now and sending you to jail. Ho, there, take him away; I'll
see that he sleeps without any air tonight."

"By God!" exclaimed the youth, "your Grace can no more make
me sleep in jail than you can make me a king!"

"And why can't I?" Sancho demanded. "Do you mean to tell me it
is not in my power to have you arrested or set free whenever I like?"

"However much power your Grace may have," said the youth, "it
is not enough to make me sleep in jail."

"You think not?" said Sancho. "Take him away at once that he
may see with his own eyes how mistaken he is; and it will do no good
for the jailer to be generous with him, for a consideration, for I will
fine him two thousand ducats if he lets this fellow stir a step out of
prison tonight."

"All that is laughable," said the youth. "The fact of the matter is, there
are not enough people in this world to make me sleep there."

"Tell me, you devil," said Sancho, "do you have some angel who is
going to get you out, who will take off the irons that I am going to order
them to put on you?"

"Ah, now, Senor Governor," replied the youth with great vivacity,
"let us talk sense and come to the point. Let us suppose that your Grace
orders me taken off to jail and that they put me in irons and chains and
throw me into a dungeon, and let us further suppose that you threaten
the jailer with a heavy fine if he does not carry out his orders but lets
me out--in spite of all this, if I do not wish to sleep but choose to re-
main awake all night without closing an eyelid, will your Grace be able,
with all your power, to make me do so?"

"No, certainly not," said the secretary. "The fellow is right."

"That is all very well," said Sancho, "so long as you stay awake
merely because it is your pleasure to do so and not in opposition to
my will."

"Oh," replied the youth, "nothing like that, sir. Not for one moment"

"Well, then," said Sancho, "God be with you. Go to your house
and may He give you a good sleep, for I would not deprive you of it.
But I would advise you from now on not to make light of those in
authority or you may fall in with someone who will bring the joke
down on your skull."

The youth went away, and the governor continued on his rounds and
a short while later two more constables came up with a man in custody.

"Senor Governor," one of them said, "this person who appears to
be a man is in reality a woman, and not an ugly one at that, who goes
dressed in men's clothing."

Two or three lanterns were lifted, and by their light was revealed
the face of a girl who appeared to be about sixteen years old or a little
more. Her hair, lovely as a thousand pearls, was caught up in a small
net of gold and green silk. Surveying her from head to foot, they per-
ceived that she had on red silk stockings and white taffeta garters with
a border of gold and seed pearls; her breeches were of green-colored
cloth of gold and her jacket706 was of the same material, beneath which
she wore a doublet of the finest gold-and-white texture, while her
shoes, which were those of a man, were white. She carried no sword at
her side, but, instead, an extremely ornate dagger, and on her fingers
were many rings of good quality. In short, the young woman made a
very favorable impression upon all of them, but none of those who be-
held her were acquainted with her, and the natives of the town said they
could not imagine who she could be. Most astonished of all were the
ones who were supposed to be playing the joke upon Sancho, or who
knew about it, as this incident and encounter had not been arranged by
them, and they were, accordingly, left in some perplexity and waited
to see what the outcome would be.

Sancho, taken aback by the girl's beauty, inquired of her who she was,
where she was going, and what had induced her to assume that costume.

"Sir," she replied, keeping her eyes fixed upon the ground and ex-
hibiting an embarrassment that bespoke a high degree of modesty, "I
cannot tell you in public of something which it is important to me to
have kept secret. But there is one thing I should like you to understand;
I am not a thief nor criminal of any sort, but an unfortunate maiden
who by force of jealousy has been led to violate that decorum that is
modesty's due."

"My Lord Governor," said the major-domo when he heard this, "have
the people stand back in order that this lady may say what she has to
say with less embarrassment."

The governor gave the order, and they all fell back with the ex-
ception of the major-domo, the butler, and the secretary. Seeing that
they were alone, the girl then went on with her story.

"I, gentlemen, am the daughter of Pedro Perez Mazorca, a wool
farmer of this town who comes very often to my father's house."

"That will not do, Senora," said the major-domo, "for I know Pedro
P6rez very well and he has no child, either son or daughter. What is
more, you say that he is your father and then you add that he is in the
habit of coming to see your father."

"I had noticed that," remarked Sancho.

"I am so confused just now, gentlemen, that I do not know what I
am saying," was the young woman's answer. "The truth is that I am
the daughter of Don Diego de la Liana, whom you all must know."

"That is better," said the major-domo. "I am acquainted with Diego
de la Liana and know him to be a wealthy gentleman of some prom-
inence. I also know that he has a son and a daughter, and that since he
became a widower no one in this town can boast of having seen the
daughter's face; he keeps her so shut away that not even the sun can
behold her, and yet, for all of that, report has it that she is exceedingly
beautiful."

"That is the truth," replied the maiden, "and I am that daughter.
As to whether the report of my beauty is true or not, gentlemen, you
may judge for yourselves."

She now began weeping bitterly, and, seeing this, the secretary turned
to the butler and whispered in his ear, "Without a doubt, something
serious must have happened to this poor maid or one of her station
would not leave her home and go wandering about the streets at such
an hour and in such a costume."

"True enough," replied the butler; "your suspicion is confirmed by
her tears."

Sancho consoled her as best he could, begging her to have no hesi-
tancy about telling them what the trouble was, as they would all most
earnestly endeavor to help her in every possible way.

"Gentlemen," she said, "the fact of the matter is that my father has
kept me shut up for ten years now, ever since they laid my mother in the
earth. In our house, mass is said in a sumptuous chapel; and in all that
time I have seen but the sun in the heavens by day and the moon and
stars by night. I do not know what streets, public squares, or churches
are, nor even what men are like, outside of my father and a brother of
mine and Pedro Perez, the wool farmer, who frequently comes to visit
s--it was for that reason that I took it into my head to say that he was
my father, in order to avoid having to name my real one. This confine-
ment--I am not allowed to leave the house even to go to church--has
made me very unhappy for many days and months. I wanted to see the
world, or at least the town where I was born, for it seemed to me that
this wish did not run counter to that decorum that wellborn maidens
ought to observe.

"When I heard them talking of bullfights, jousting with reeds,707 and
play-acting, I asked my brother, who is a year older than 1, to tell me
what these things were, together with many others which I had not
seen, and he explained them to me as well as he could, and all this only
kindled my desire to see for myself. But, to cut short the story of my
downfall, I may tell you that I begged and entreated my brother--
oh, that I had never done so!" And once again she began weeping.

"Continue, Senora," the major-domo said to her. "Go ahead and tell
us what happened; for we are all in suspense at hearing what you have
to say and seeing your tears."

"There is not much left to tell, though I have many tears that re-
main to be shed, for that is the payment one must always make for
such misplaced desires as mine."

The butler's heart was deeply touched by the maiden's beauty, and
he now lifted his lantern for another look at her. It appeared to him that
those were not tears, but, rather, seed pearls or meadow dew, and he
even went so far as to compare them to the pearls of the Orient. He
could only hope that her misfortunes were not as great as her weeping and
her sighs would seem to indicate. The governor for his part was becom-
ing impatient over the way in which the girl dragged out her story and
urged her not to keep them any longer in suspense as it was growing
late and they had yet to cover a good deal of the town.

With broken sobs and half-sighs, she went on, My misfortune is
that I asked my brother to dress me up like a man in one of his suits
and to take me out some night to see the town while our father was
asleep. I insisted so strongly that he finally agreed to humor me, and
so I put on his clothes and he dressed in mine--for he has no hair on his
face and looks like a very pretty girl--and tonight, about an hour ago,
we left the house and, led on by a youthful and foolish impulse, roamed
the entire town. Just as we had made up our minds to return home,
we saw coming toward us a large group of people, and my brother said
to me, 'Sister, that must be the watch; pick up your feet and put wings
on them and follow me as fast as you can, for if they should recognize
us, it would be a bad business.' Saying this, he turned his back and
started to fly rather than run; but I was so frightened that I had not
gone more than six paces when I fell, and then the officer of justice
who has brought me before you came, and I find myself put to shame
before all these people as a bad and willful girl."

"So, then, young lady," said Sancho, "no other misfortune than this
has befallen you, and it was not jealousy, after all, that drove you from
your home, as you told us at the beginning of your story."

"No, nothing has happened to me, and it was not jealousy that drove
me away, but only a desire to see the world, which did not go any
further than seeing the streets of this town."

The truth of what she had said was now confirmed by the arrival of
constables with her brother, one of them having overtaken the lad as
he ran away from his sister. He had on nothing but a skirt of rich ma-
terial and a short blue damask cloak with a fine-gold border; he had no
bonnet on his head nor adornment of any kind other than his blond
curly hair, which resembled golden ringlets. The governor, major-domo,
and butler then took the youth to one side and, being out of earshot of
his sister, asked him why he had donned that disguise. He was no less
ashamed and embarrassed than the young woman had been and told the
same story they had heard from her, much to the delight of the enamored
butler.

"Young lady and gentleman," the governor said to them, "this was
certainly a very childish thing to do, and there was no occasion for all
those tears and sighs in telling us of so rash an escapade. All you
needed to say was, 'We are So-and-So and So-and-So, and we wandered
away from our parents' home merely out of curiosity and with no other
purpose in view.' Your story could have ended then and there, without
all this weeping and wailing and carrying-on."

"That is so," replied the maiden, "but your Worships must realize
that I was so excited I was unable to control myself."

"There is no harm done," said Sancho. "Come, we will take you back
to your father's house, and it may be that he will not have noticed
your absence. After this, do not be such children or so anxious to see
the world; for the respected damsel has a broken leg and stays at home,708
a woman and a hen by gadding about are soon lost,709 and she who is
eager to see is also anxious to be seen.710 I say no more."

The young man thanked the governor for the favor of escorting
them to their home, which was not far away, and they all set out. When
they arrived there the lad threw a pebble against a grating, and in a
moment a woman servant who was waiting for them came down and let
the pair in. All the members of the governor's party were astonished at
the grace and beauty of the two young people and marveled at their
desire to see the world by night without, however, going beyond the
confines of the town. All this they attributed to their extreme youth.

As for the butler, his heart was transfixed, and he at once resolved
that he would ask the girl's father for her hand in marriage the very
next day, feeling certain that he would not meet with a refusal, in view
of the fact that he was a servant of the duke. And Sancho for his part
began forming plans for marrying the young man to his daughter,
Sanchica, and determined to carry out his scheme in due season, since,
he reflected, no prospective husband would decline a governor's daugh-
ter.

With this, their rounds for that night came to an end, and two days
later the government as well, all the governor's plans being overthrown
and swept away, as will be seen further on.



CHAPTER L.

Wherein is set forth who the enchanters and executioners were who
spanked the duenna and pinched and scratched Don Quixote, together
with what happened to the page who carried the letter to Teresa Panza,'711
Sancho Panza's wife.



ClD HAMETE, that most painstaking investigator of the minute
details of this true history, tells us that as Dona Rodriguez left her own
apartment to go to Don Quixote's, another matron who was her room-
mate observed her movements; and inasmuch as all duennas are eager
to know, hear, and smell out things, this one proceeded to follow her
so quietly that the worthy Rodriguez was unaware of the fact. As soon
as the second duenna saw the first one enter the guest's chamber, true
to the tattling character of her kind she at once hastened to inform my
lady the duchess that Dona Rodriguez and the knight were closeted to-
gether, and the duchess in turn told the duke, begging his permission
to go with Altisidora and find out what it was her serving woman
wanted of Don Quixote.

The duke gave his consent, and the two women then tiptoed along
very cautiously to the door of the knight's room and took up a posi-
tion near by where they could hear all that was said. As the duchess
listened to Dona Rodriguez making public property of her mistress's
ailments,712 she was unable to bear it, and Altisidora felt the same way
about it, and so, filled with rage and thirsting for vengeance, they burst
into the chamber, where they spanked the duenna and punished Don
Quixote in the manner that has already been described; for insults
offered to the beauty and pretensions of women invariably arouse in
them a mighty wrath and kindle a passion for revenge. The duchess
gave an account of the affair to the duke, who was very much amused
by it; and then by way of continuing the jest and having still further
sport with the knight, she summoned the page who had impersonated
Dulcinea in the little comedy having to do with that lady's disenchant-
ment--a matter which Sancho had entirely forgotten, being so busy
with his government. The page was now dispatched to Teresa Panza,
Sancho's wife, with her husband's letter and another which the duchess
had written, and with a large string of valuable coral beads as a present.713

The history goes on to say that the page was very keen-witted and
anxious to be of service to his lord and lady, and that he set out right
willingly for Sancho's village. Just before entering it he saw a number
of women washing clothes in a brook,714 and, going up to them, he in-
quired if they could tell him whether or not a woman by the name of
Teresa Panza lived there, wife of one Sancho Panza, squire to a knight
known as Don Quixote de la Mancha. In response to this question, a
young lass stood up.

"Teresa Panza is my mother," she said, "the Sancho you speak of is
my father, and that knight is our master."

"Come, then, young lady," said the page, "and take me to your
mother; for I bring a letter and a present from your father."

"That I will gladly do, my good sir," replied the girl, who appeared
to be around fourteen years of age. Leaving the clothes that she was
washing with one of her companions and without putting anything on
her head or feet, for she was barelegged and her hair was hanging down,
she leaped in front of the page's mount and said, "Come with me, your
Grace. Our house is on the edge of the village and my mother is there,
very much worried because she has had no news of my father for a long
time."

"Well," said the page, "I am bringing her some, and such good news
that she may well thank God for it."

With the girl leaping, running, and skipping, they reached the vil-
lage, but before going into the house she called from the doorway,
"Come out, Mother Teresa, come out, come out; here is a gentleman
with letters and other things from my father."

At these words Teresa Panza appeared, spinning a bundle of flax.
She was clad in a gray skirt so short that it seemed they had "cut it to
her shame,"715 with a bodice of the same color and a chemise. She was
not so very old, although she was obviously past forty; but she was
strong of body, robust and vigorous, with a nutbrown complexion.

"What is it, daughter--Who is this gentleman?" she asked as she saw
the page on horseback.

"A servant of my lady Dona Teresa Panza," replied the page. With
this, he dismounted and went to kneel before Teresa with great hu-
mility. "Give me your hands, my lady Dona Teresa," he said, "as the
lawful wedded wife of Senor Don Sancho Panza, rightful governor of
the island of Barataria."

"Ah, my good sir," she said, "be off with you. Don't do that; for I
am no palace lady but a poor peasant woman, daughter of a clodhopper
and wife of a squire-errant and not of any governor."

"Your Grace," the page insisted, "is the most worthy wife of an arch-
worthy governor, as proof of which I hand your Grace this letter and
this present." And he forthwith took out of his pocket a string of coral
beads with golden clasps.

"This letter," he said, placing the beads about her neck, "is from my
Lord Governor and the other one and the necklace are from my lady
the duchess, who has sent me to you."

Teresa was quite overcome by it all, and her daughter as well. May
they slay me," said the lass, "if our master Don Quixote is not at the
bottom of this; he must have given father that government or earldom
that he promised him so many times."

"That is right," said the page. "Thanks to Senor Don Quixote,
Senor Sancho is now governor of the island of Barataria, as you will see
from this letter."

"Read it for me, noble sir," said Teresa, "for although I know how
to spin, I cannot read a mite."

"Nor I," added Sanchica; "but wait here a moment and I will go call
someone who will read it for us, even though it be the curate him-
self or the bachelor, Sanson Carrasco. They will be very glad to come
and hear news of my father."

"There is no need to call anyone," said the page. "I may not know
how to spin, but I can read, and I will tell you what it says." He pro-
ceeded to do so, reading Sancho's letter in its entirety, which, since it
has already been given in these pages, need not be set down here again.
Then he took out the other one, from the duchess, the contents of
which were as follows:

　　Friend Teresa: Your husband Sancho's sterling qualities, his up-
　　right character, and his ability have made me feel impelled to ask my
　　own husband, the duke, to give him an island out of the many in
　　my lord's possession. I have received word that he, Sancho, is gov-
　　erning like a gerfalcon,716 a thing which I am very glad to hear, and
　　my lord, the duke, also. I thank Heaven most heartily that I made
　　no mistake in choosing him for such a post; for I would have my
　　lady Teresa know that it is extremely hard to find a good governor in
　　this world, but God grant that I do as well as Sancho is doing now.

　　I send you herewith, my dear, a string of coral beads with gold
　　clasps, and could only wish that they were oriental pearls. However,
　　he who gives you a bone would not see you dead.717 The time will come
　　when we shall meet and become acquainted, but God only knows
　　what is to be. Remember me to Sanchica, your daughter, and tell
　　her for me that she should hold herself in readiness, for I mean to
　　make a good match for her when she least expects it.

　　They tell me that in your village you have some large acorns.
　　Send me a couple of dozen or so of them and I shall prize them
　　greatly as coming from you. Write me at length, telling me of your
　　health and how you are doing; and if you stand in need of anything,
　　you have but to open your mouth and you shall have your wish.718

　　　　From this place. Your loving friend,

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The Duchess.

"Ah!" exclaimed Teresa when she had heard the letter, "and what a
and lady it is, how plain and humble! Let me be buried with719 such
adies as that and not with the hidalgas you find in this town, who think
:hat because they are ladies the wind should not touch them, who when
:hey go to church put on as many airs as if they were queens, and who
:hink that they are disgraced if they so much as look at a country-
woman. You can see how goodhearted she is. For all that she's a duchess,
she calls me her friend and treats me like an equal--and may l see her
equal to the tallest belfry in La Mancha!

"As for the acorns, my good sir, I will send her ladyship a peck720 of
them, and such big ones that people well may come to see them as a
show and wonder at them. And now, for the present, Sanchica, entertain
this gentleman, look after his horse, get some eggs from the stable,
slice plenty of bacon, and give him a meal fit for a prince;721 for the good
news he brings and the good face on him deserve the best there is. In the
meanwhile, I'll run out and tell the neighbor women about our good
luck, and the father curate and Master Nicholas the barber, for they
always have been such good friends of your father's."

"I will do as you say, mother," said Sanchica, "but you must give
me half of that string of beads; for I don't think my lady the duchess
would have been so stupid as to send them all to you."

"They are all for you, daughter," replied Teresa, "but let me wear
them around my neck for a few days, for it seems as if they really
gladdened my heart."

"You will be glad, too," said the page, "when you see the bundle that
is in this portmanteau; for it contains a suit of the finest cloth, which
the governor wore only one day to the hunt and which he now sends
to Senora Sanchica."

"May he live a thousand years," said Sanchica, "and the one who
brings it no less, and even two thousand if needs be."

Teresa then left the house with the letters and with the beads about
her neck, strumming upon the former with her fingers as if they had
been a tambourine. Falling in by chance with the curate and Sanson
Carrasco, she began doing a dance as she cried, "Faith, and we are no
poor relations now! We've got a little government! Let the finest
lady there is meddle with me and I'll set her down as an upstart!"

"What's all this, Teresa Panza--Why are you acting like mad, and
what papers are those you have there?"

"Those are letters from duchesses and governors, if you call that
madness, and these beads that I have about my neck are of finest coral,
with Ave Marias and Pater Nosters of beaten gold, and I am a gov-
ernor's wife!"

"God help us, Teresa, but we don't understand you. We can't make
out what you are talking about."

"There, see for yourselves," she said, and handed them the letters.

The curate read them aloud as Sanson Carrasco listened, and the two
of them then gazed at each other as if dumfounded. The bachelor asked
who had brought the letters, and she replied by saying that they should
come home with her and meet the messenger, a young man fine as gold722
who had brought her another present worth even more than this one.
The curate took the beads from her neck and looked at them again and
again, and, having made sure that they were really valuable, he was more
astonished than ever.

"By the habit that I wear," he declared, "I do not know what to say
or think about these letters and presents. On the one hand, I can per-
ceive by touching them the fineness of these coral beads, and, on the
other hand, I read here that a duchess is sending to ask for two dozen
acorns."

"Make sense out of that for me if you can," said Carrasco. "But
come along, let's go see the one who brought this letter; he may be
able to throw some light upon the mystery."

They did so, and Teresa returned with them. They found the page
sifting a little barley for his horse and Sanchica cutting a slice of bacon
to be fried with the eggs for the page's dinner. Both of them were
pleased by the young man's bearing and fine apparel, and after a courte-
ous exchange of greetings Sanson requested him to give them what
news he had of Don Quixote, and of Sancho Panza as well. He added
that they had read the letters from Sancho and my lady the duchess
but were still puzzled, being unable to make out what was meant by
Sancho's government, especially the reference to an island, seeing that
all or most of the islands in the Mediterranean belonged to his Majesty.

"As to Senor Sancho Panza's being a governor," replied the page,
"there can be no doubt. As to whether his government consists of an
island or not, is no concern of mine. It is sufficient to state that it is a
town of more than a thousand inhabitants. With regard to the acorns,
I may say that my lady the duchess is so modest and unassuming that
she not only would ask a peasant woman for such a gift as that, but has
even been known to send to a neighbor of hers to ask for the loan of a
comb. For I would have your Worships know that the ladies of Aragon,
however highborn they may be, are not so haughty and punctilious as
are those of Castile, and are in the habit of treating people with greater
informality."

In the midst of their conversation Sanchica came out, her skirt filled
with eggs.

"Tell me, sir," she asked of the page, "does my father by any chance
wear trunk-hose since he became a governor?"

"I never noticed, but I imagine so."

"Oh, my God! What a sight it must be, my father in tights! Isn't
it strange, ever since I was bornI have wanted to see him dressed like
that?"

"As things are going now," replied the page, "you will see it if you
live long enough. By God, if his government lasts him two more months,
he'll be going about in a traveler's hood."723

It was plain to the curate and the bachelor that the page was speak-
ing in jest, but the fine quality of the beads and of the hunting suit that
Sancho had sent (Teresa had already shown them the garment) seemed
to contradict this impression. Meanwhile, they had a good laugh over
the wish that Sanchica had expressed, and they laughed still more as
Teresa went on to say, "Senor Curate, I wish you would find out if
there is anyone going to Madrid or Toledo who could buy me a hoop
skirt, the best there is and in the latest fashion; for I certainly mean to
be as much of an honor as I can to my husband in his government, that
I do, and if I get my pride up I intend to go to court and set up a coach
like all the other ladies, for she who is the wife of a governor may very
well keep one."

"And why shouldn't you, mother!" cried Sanchica. "Would to God
it was today instead of tomorrow, even though they said, when they
saw me seated in the coach with my mother, 'Just look at that little
nobody, that garlic-eater's daughter, how she rides around at her ease
as if she were a female pope!' But let them tramp in the mud and let me
go in my carriage, with my feet off the ground. Bad luck724 to all the
gossips in the world. So long as I go warm, let the people laugh!725 Am I
right, mother?"

"Indeed you are, my daughter," replied Teresa. "My good Sancho
prophesied all this luck and even better, and you'll see, my child, I'll
not stop until I've become a countess. For luck is all in the way you
begin; as I've heard your father say many times--and he's the father of
proverbs as well--when they offer you a heifer, run with the halter,726
and when they offer you a government, take it; when they give you an
earldom, grab it, and when they say tus, tus 727 to you with some nice
present, snap at it. It would be just as if you were to go on sleeping
and not answer when fortune and good luck stand knocking at the
door of your house! "

"And what do I care," added Sanchica, "if somebody or other says,
when they see me holding my head up like a fine lady, 'The dog saw
himself in hempen breeches ,'728 and so forth?"

Listening to this, the curate was led to remark, "I cannot help believ-
ing that every member of the Panza family was born with, a bagful
of proverbs inside him; I never saw one that did not spill them at all
hours and on every occasion."

"That is the truth," said the page, "for the Lord Governor Sancho
goes around quoting them at every turn, and even though they may
not be to the point, they are very amusing, and my lady the duchess and
the duke praise them highly."

"Then, my dear sir," said the bachelor, "you still maintain, do you,
that all this about Sancho's government is the truth, and that there really
is a duchess in this world who sends him presents and writes to him--
As for us, we have handled the presents and read the letters, but still are
not convinced and are inclined to think, rather, that this is something
that has to do with our fellow townsman Don Quixote. He believes that
everything is done by enchantment; and I might say that I should like
to touch and feel your Grace to see if you are a ghostly ambassador or
a flesh-and-blood being."

"Gentlemen," replied the page, "with regard to myself I only know
that I am a real messenger and that Senor Sancho Panza is indeed a
governor; I know that my lord and lady, the duke and duchess, are in a
position to give, and have given him this government, and I have heard
that the same Sancho Panza is deporting himself in it most valiantly.
As to whether or not there is any enchantment in it, that is something
for your Worships to argue. I swear by my parents, who are still living
and whom I dearly love, that this is all I know about it."

"It may very well be," said the bachelor, "but dubitat Augustinus."729

"Let him doubt who will," said the page. "The truth is as I have told
it to you, and truth always rises above a lie as oil above water,730 Operibus
credite, et non verbis;731 let one of you come with me, and he shall see
with his own eyes what he will not believe with his ears."

"I am the one who should make that journey," said Sanchica. "Take
me with you, sir, on the crupper of your hack; I'll be very glad to go
see my father."

"Governors' daughters," replied the page, "do not travel the highways
alone, but only when escorted by carriages and litters and a large num-
ber of servants."

"In God's name," said Sanchica, "I can go just as well mounted on a
she-ass as in a coach! What a dainty creature you must think I am!"

"Be quiet, girl," said Teresa, "you don't know what you are saying.
This gentleman is quite right. Different times, different manners.732 When
my husband was Sancho, I was Sancha; and now that he's a governor,
I am Senora I don t know if there is anything in what I am saying or
not."

"Senora Teresa is saying more than she realizes ," remarked the page;
"but give me something to eat and let me be on my way, for I intend to
return this evening."

"Your Grace," said the curate, "will partake of my frugal fare;733 for
Senora Teresa is more willing than able when it comes to serving
such a guest as you."

The page at first declined, but finally had to yield for the sake of his
own well-being; and the curate then gladly bore him off in order that
he might question him at length regarding Don Quixote and his ex-
ploits. The bachelor offered to write the replies for Teresa to the letters
she had received, but she would not have him meddling in her affairs,
since she looked upon him as being something of a practical joker. In-
stead, she gave a cake and a couple of eggs to a young acolyte, who copied
out two epistles for her, one addressed to her husband and the other
to the duchess, which she herself had composed and which are not the
worst to be met with in this great history, as will be seen further on.



CHAPTER LI.

Of the course of Sancho Panza's government,
with other entertaining matters of a similar nature.



Day dawned following the night on which the governor had made
his rounds. That night had been a sleepless one for the butler, his mind
being occupied with the beautiful face and general attractiveness of the
disguised maiden. As for the major-domo, he had spent the remaining
hours until daylight in writing to his lord and lady, giving them an ac-
count of all that Sancho had done and said, for he was equally aston-
ished by the governor's actions and by his speech, finding in both an
admixture of wisdom and simple-mindedness.

The lord governor finally arose and, on orders of Doctor Pedro Recio,
made a breakfast on a bit of preserves and four draughts of cold water,
though he would rather have had a slice of bread and a cluster of grapes.
However, seeing there was no help for it, he made the best of things,
with sorrowing heart and a weary stomach, Pedro Recio having given
him to understand that a light diet of dainty food was the one best
suited to individuals in positions of command and in offices entailing
grave responsibility where one had need not so much of bodily strength
as of mental faculties. As a result of this sophistry, Sancho suffered
hunger to such an extent that in his heart he was led to curse the gov-
ernment and the one who had bestowed it upon him.

Nevertheless, in spite of his hunger and fortified only by the pre-
serves he had eaten, he undertook to sit in judgment that day; and the
first matter that came before him was a problem734 propounded by a for-
eigner in the presence of the major-domo and the other attendants.

"My lord," he began, "there was a large river that separated two dis-
tricts of one and the same seignorial domain--and let your Grace pay
attention, for the matter is an important one and somewhat difficult of
solution. To continue then: Over this river there was a bridge, and at
one end of it stood a gallows with what resembled a court of justice,
where four judges commonly sat to see to the enforcement of a law
decreed by the lord of the river, of the bridge, and of the seignory. That
law was the following: 'Anyone who crosses this river shall first take
oath as to whither he is bound and why. If he swears to the truth, he
shall be permitted to pass; but if he tells a falsehood, he shall die with-
out hope of pardon on the gallows that has been set up there.' Once this
law and the rigorous conditions it laid down had been promulgated,
there were many who told the truth and whom the judges permitted to
pass freely enough. And then it happened that one day, when they
came to administer the oath to a certain man, he swore and affirmed
that his destination was to die upon the gallows which they had erected
and that he had no other purpose in view.

"The judges held a consultation. 'If,' they said, 'we let this man pass,
without hindrance, then he has perjured himself and according to the
law should be put to death; but he swore that he came to die upon that
scaffold, and if we hang him that will have been the truth, and in ac-
cordance with the same law he should go free.'735 And now, my Lord
Governor, we should like to have your Grace's opinion as to what the
judges should do with the man; for up to now they have been very doubt-
ful and perplexed, and, having heard of your Grace's keen understand-
ing and great intellect, they have sent me to beseech your Grace on their
behalf to tell them what you think regarding this intricate and puzzling
question."

"Certainly," said Sancho, "those judges who sent you to me might
have spared themselves the trouble, for I am a fellow who has in him
more of the dull than of the sharp; but, nevertheless, let me hear the
case once more and it may be that I'll hit upon something."

The one who had propounded the question then repeated it over and
over again.

"It seems to me," said Sancho at last, "that I can settle the matter very
shortly. This man swore that he was going to die upon the gallows, and
if he does, he swore to the truth and the law says he should be freed and
permitted to cross the bridge; but if they do not hang him, he swore
falsely and according to the same law ought to be hanged."

"My Lord Governor has stated it correctly," said the messenger; "so
far as a complete understanding of the case is concerned, there is no
room for any further doubt or questioning."

"Well, then," said Sancho, "my opinion is this: that part of the man
that swore to the truth should be permitted to pass and that part of him
that lied should be hanged, and thus the letter of the law will be carried
out."

"But, my Lord Governor," replied the one who had put the question,
"it would be necessary to divide the man into two halves, the lying half
and the truthful half, and if he were so divided it would kill him and
the law would in no wise be fulfilled, whereas it is essential that its ex-
press provisions be carried out."

"See here, my good sir," said Sancho, "either I am a blockhead or
this man you speak of deserves to die as much as he deserves to live and
cross the bridge; for if the truth saves him, the lie equally condemns
him. And this being the case, as indeed it is, it is my opinion that you
should go back and tell those gentlemen who sent you to me that, since
there is as much reason for acquitting as for condemning him, they ought
to let him go free, as it is always more praiseworthy to do good than
to do harm. I would give you this decision over my signature if I knew
how to sign my name;736 and in saying what I do I am not speaking on
my own account but am remembering one of the many pieces of ad-
vice which my master Don Quixote gave me the night before I came
here to be governor of this island. When justice was in doubt, he said,
I was to lean to the side of mercy; and I thank God that I happened to
recollect it just now, for it fits this case as if made for it.

"So it does," agreed the major-domo, "and it is my belief that Lycurgus
himself, who gave laws to the Lacedaemonians, could not have handed
down a better decision than that which our great Panza has rendered
us. Court is now over for this morning," he added, "and I will give orders
that my Lord Governor be served a meal that is very much to his taste."

"That is all I ask," said Sancho, "that you be fair with me. See to it
that I eat, and then let it rain cases and problems and I'll make quick
work of them."737

The major-domo kept his word, it being against his conscience to
starve to death so wise a governor as this; and, in any event, he ex-
pected to have done with him that night by playing the final joke upon
him in accordance with the instructions of his lord and lady. Accord-
ingly, after Sancho had eaten for once in violation of all the rules and
aphorisms of the Doctor Tirteafuera, as soon as the cloth had been
removed a messenger entered with a letter from Don Quixote addressed
to the governor. Sancho ordered the secretary to cast an eye over it
and, if it contained nothing that should be kept secret, to read it aloud.

The secretary obeyed. "It may very well be read aloud," he said after
he had glanced at it, "for what Senor Don Quixote has here written to
your Grace deserves to be engraved in letters of gold. You shall hear for
yourself:

　　LETTER OF DON QUIXOTE DE LA MANCHA TO SANCHO PANZA,
　　　　　　GOVERNOR OF THE ISLAND OF BARATARIA

　　Whereas, friend Sancho, I had expected to hear news of your in-
　　dolence and follies, I hear, instead, of the wisdom you have displayed,
　　and for this I give special thanks to Heaven, which raises the poor
　　up from the dungheap 738 and makes wise men out of fools. They tell
　　me that you govern like a man, but that as a man you are as humble
　　as any beast of the field. In this connection, I would have you note,
　　Sancho, that it very often behooves those in positions of authority
　　to resist the natural humility of their hearts, and it is indeed neces-
　　sary for them to do so; for the attire of one who is in a post of grave
　　responsibility should be conformable to his station and not limited by
　　his own humble tastes. Dress well; a stick properly clothed no longer
　　has the appearance of a stick.739 By this I do not mean that you should
　　deck yourself out with trinkets and showy raiment, or that, being a
　　judge, you should dress like a soldier; rather, the garb should be suited
　　to the office, provided always that it is neat and well made.
　　　　In order to win the good will of the people that you govern, there
　　are two things, among others, that you must do: one is to act in a well-
　　bred manner toward every one (this I have told you before); and
　　the other is to see that there is an abundance of food, since nothing
　　weighs more heavily upon the hearts of the poor than hunger and
　　want.
　　　　Do not issue many decrees, and when you do, see to it that they
　　are good ones and, above all, that they are observed and fulfilled, for
　　decrees that are not observed are as none at all but, rather, convey
　　the impression that the prince who had the wisdom and authority
　　requisite for issuing them has not had the power to enforce them,
　　and laws that merely hold a threat without being put into execution
　　are like the log that was king of the frogs: at first he frightened them,
　　but in time they came to despise him and mounted upon him.740
　　　　Be a father to virtue and a stepfather to vice. Be not always strict
　　nor always lenient but observe a middle course between these two
　　extremes, for therein lies wisdom. Visit the prisons, slaughter houses,
　　and public squares, for the presence of the governor in such places
　　is a matter of great importance: it comforts the prisoners, who hope
　　to be speedily released; it is a bugbear to the butchers, who for once
　　give fair weight; and it terrifies the market women for the same rea-
　　son. Do not show yourself, even though perchance you may be (and
　　I do not think you are) either covetous, a woman-chaser, or a glut-
　　ton; for when the people and those with whom you have to deal
　　come to know your weakness, they will train their batteries upon
　　you at that point until they have brought you down to the depths
　　of perdition.
　　　　Go over time and again, consider and reconsider, the advice and in-
　　structions that I gave you in writing before you set out from here for
　　your government; if you follow these counsels you will find in them
　　a ready aid in those labors and difficulties that governors encounter
　　at every turn. Write to your lord and lady by way of showing them
　　that you are grateful; for ingratitude is the daughter of pride and
　　one of the greatest of known sins, and the person who is ungrateful
　　to his benefactors shows clearly that he would be ungrateful to God
　　as well, who has conferred and continues to confer so many blessings
　　upon him..
　　　　My lady the duchess sent a special messenger with your suit and
　　another present to your wife, Teresa Panza, and we are expecting an
　　answer at any moment. I have been a trifle indisposed as the result
　　of a certain scratching that was of no great benefit to my nose, but
　　it was in reality nothing at all. If there are enchanters who mistreat
　　me, there are also those that defend me. Let me know as to whether
　　the major-domo who is with you had anything to do with the busi-
　　ness of La Trifaldi as you suspected. Keep me informed of every-
　　thing that happens to you, since the distance is so short and, more-
　　over, I am thinking of giving up very soon this idle life that I lead
　　here, as I was not born for it. I have been asked to undertake a cer-
　　tain business that may bring me into disfavor with my lord and lady;
　　but although this gives me no little concern, it really means nothing
　　to me, for, when all is said and done, I must fulfill the duties of my
　　profession rather than think of their pleasure, in accordance with the
　　saying, "Amicus Plato, sed magis arnica veritas."741 If I quote Latin
　　to you, it is because I assume that since becoming a governor you
　　will have learned it. I commend you to God, and may He keep you
　　from becoming an object of pity to anyone.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Your friend,

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Don Quixote de la Mancha.

Sancho listened to the letter very attentively, and it was praised by all
who heard it for the wisdom it contained. The governor then rose from
the table and, summoning his secretary, shut himself up in his room, for
he wished to answer his master Don Quixote without delay. He in-
structed the secretary to write down what was dictated to him, without
adding anything to it or leaving out anything, and the following is the
letter that he composed:

　　I have been so very busy that I have not had time to scratch my
　　head or even trim my nails, which is the reason why I wear them so
　　long, God help me. I tell you this, my dear master, so that your
　　Grace may not be surprised that I have not let you know sooner
　　how well or ill I am making out in this government, where I am
　　suffering more hunger than the two of us did when we roamed the
　　forests and desert places together.
　　　　My lord the duke wrote to me the other day, advising me that
　　certain spies had come to my island to assassinate me, but up to now
　　the only one I have discovered is a doctor in this town who is hired
　　to kill all the governors that come here. He is Doctor Pedro Recio,
　　a native of Tirteafuera, and from his name 742 your Grace may judge
　　as to whether or not I have reason to fear dying at his hands. This
　　doctor that I am telling you about says that he himself does not cure
　　diseases when they come but aims to prevent them from coming, and
　　the medicine that he gives you is diet and more diet until he has
　　you down to your bare bones--just as if leanness wasn't worse than
　　fever. The short of it is, he is starving me to death and I'm dying
　　of disappointment; for when I came here as governor, I expected to
　　have my meals hot and my drinks cool and to sleep in comfort be-
　　tween sheets of Holland linen, on feather beds, and instead I find that
　　I have to do penance like a hermit. I do not like it at all, and in the
　　end I imagine the devil will take me.
　　　　So far, I have not laid hands on any dues or accepted any bribes,743
　　and I do not know what to think of it; for they tell me that the
　　governors who come to this island usually have plenty of money
　　which has been given them or lent them by the people of the town,
　　and I understand that this is the custom not only here but with gov-
　　ernors in general.
　　　　Last night, in making the rounds, I fell in with a very pretty girl
　　dressed like a boy, in the company of her brother who was in woman's
　　clothes. My butler has fallen in love with the lass and has his mind set
　　on having her for his wife, or so he says, and I have picked the lad
　　for my son-in-law. Today we are going to take the matter up with
　　the father of the pair, who is a certain Diego de la Liana, an old
　　Christian and as fine a gentleman as anyone could wish.
　　　　I am in the habit of visiting the market places as your Grace recom-
　　mends, and yesterday I came upon a hucksteress selling hazelnuts and
　　found that she had mixed with a fanega 744 of fresh ones an equal
　　measure of empty, rotten nuts. I confiscated them all for the charity
　　school children, who know well enough how to tell one kind from
　　the other, and sentenced her to stay away from the market place for
　　a couple of weeks. My action was heartily approved; for I may tell
　　your Grace that there is no one in this town with a worse reputation
　　than these market women; they are all said to be bold and shame-
　　less creatures without a conscience, and I can well believe it from
　　what I have seen of them in other places.745
　　　　I am very glad to hear that my lady the duchess has written to
　　my wife, Teresa Panza, and has sent her the present, and I will try
　　to show my gratitude at the proper time. I would have your Grace
　　kiss her hands for me and tell her that she has not thrown me into
　　any sack with a hole in it, as she will see from the outcome. I hope
　　your Grace will not have any quarrel with my lord and lady, for
　　if you fall out with them, it is plain to be seen that it will do me harm.
　　And it would be contrary to the advice you yourself have given me
　　for you to be ungrateful to those who have shown you so many
　　favors and have treated you so royally in their castle.
　　　　That business of the scratching I do not understand, but I imagine
　　it must be the work of those wicked enchanters that are always tor-
　　menting your Grace, and I'll hear all about it when we meet again. I d
　　like to send your Grace some present or other, but I don t know
　　what it would be unless it was some of those very curious clyster
　　pipes to be worked with bladders that they make in this island. How-
　　ever, if my office holds out, I'll try to send you something, one way
　　or another.746 If my wife, Teresa Panza, should write to me, please
　　pay the postage and send the letter on to me, as I am very anxious to
　　hear how my wife and young ones are doing at home. And so, may
　　God free your Grace from those evil-minded enchanters and see
　　me through with my government, safe and sound--though this I am
　　inclined to doubt, for I think I'll rather leave it and my life behind me
　　at one and the same time, the way Doctor Pedro Recio is treating me.

　　　　　　　　　　　　Your Grace's servant,
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Sancho Panza, the Governor.

The secretary sealed the letter and dispatched it by courier at once;
and then the practical jokers put their heads together and began plan-
ning how they would dispatch Sancho from his governorship. That
afternoon was spent by him in drawing up a number of ordinances
for the proper administration of what he took to be his island. He
decreed that there were to be no peddlers of provisions in the state,
and that wine might be imported from any region whatever so long
as its place of origin was declared in order that a price might be put
upon it according to its reputation for quality and the esteem in which
it was held, while anyone who watered wine or put a false name on
it was to pay for it with his life. He reduced the cost of all shoes and
stockings, but especially of shoes, as it seemed to him that the prices
being charged for them were exorbitant. He put a tax on servants' wages,
which were out of all proportion to the service rendered.747 He pre-
scribed an extremely heavy fine for those who sang lewd and lascivious
songs, either by night or by day, and ordained that no blind man should
go about singing verses748 having to do with miracles unless he could
produce trustworthy evidence that the miracles had actually occurred;
for it was his opinion that most of the events that formed the burden
of their lays were trumped up, to the detriment of the truly miraculous
ones.749

He created and appointed a bailiff for the poor, not for the purpose
of harassing them but to make an investigation of their real status, since
many a thief or drunkard of sound body goes about as a make-believe
cripple or displaying false sores. In brief, he ordered things so wisely
that to this day his decrees are preserved in that town, under the title
of The Constitutions of the Great Governor, Sancho Panza .



CHAPTER LII.

Wherein is related the adventure of the second distressed,
or afflicted, duenna, otherwise known as Dona Rodriguez.



ClD HAMETE tells us that, being now healed of his scratches, Don
Quixote came to the conclusion that the life he was leading in that
castle was wholly contrary to the order of chivalry that he professed,
and he accordingly resolved to ask permission of the duke and duchess
to set out for Saragossa, where the festival was near at hand in which
he hoped to win the suit of armor that was the prize in such tournaments.
He was sitting at table with the ducal pair one day and was just about
to carry out his intention and beg their leave when all of a sudden there
came through the doorway two women (as they afterward turned out
to be), clad in mourning from head to foot. Going over to Don Quix-
ote, one of them threw herself full-length at his feet, pressing her lips
to them and uttering moans so deep, so sad, and so heart-rending as to
throw all those who heard and beheld her into a state of confusion.

Although the duke and duchess thought that this must be some joke
which their servants were playing on the knight, they nonetheless were
puzzled and uncertain as they saw how earnestly the woman sighed,
moaned, and wept. Finally, taking pity upon her, Don Quixote raised
her up and made her remove the veil and mantle that covered her weep-
ing face. As she did so, she revealed--something they had never ex-
pected to see!--the countenance of Dona Rodriguez, the duenna of
the household, while the other lady in mourning proved to be her
daughter, the one who had been deceived by the rich farmer's son. All
who knew the duenna were astonished, and my lord and lady more
than any, for, although they looked upon her as a weak and pliant
creature, they had not thought her capable of acts of madness. At length
she turned to her master and mistress and addressed them.

"Will your Excellencies," she said, "be so kind as to permit me a
word with this knight, seeing that it is necessary if I am to get myself
well out of a predicament in which the impudence of an evil-intentioned
boor has placed me?"

The duke gave her the permission she sought, telling her that she
might say whatever she liked; and she then fastened her gaze upon
Don Quixote.

"Some time ago, O valiant knight," she said, "I gave you an account
of the unjust and treacherous manner in which a certain heartless peas-
ant had treated my dearly beloved daughter, the unfortunate maid who
stands here before you now, and you promised me at that time that
you would espouse her cause and right the wrong that had been done
her. But now word has reached me that you are planning to leave this
castle in search of such adventures as God may fittingly provide, and
ere you take to the road I would beg of you to challenge this impudent
yokel and compel him to marry my daughter, for before they first
came together he promised her that he would make her his wife. To
expect my lord the duke to see justice done is to ask pears of the elm
tree,750 due to reasons which I have already set forth to your Grace in
private. And now, may God grant you health, and as for us, may He not
forsake us."

To this speech Don Quixote replied with a grave and solemn de-
meanor. "Worthy duenna," he said, "moderate your tears, or better,
dry them up and spare those sighs as well; for I am taking it upon my-
self to redress the wrong that has been done your daughter, who would
have been better off if she had not been so ready to believe the prom-
ises of lovers, promises that are lightly made but extremely burdensome
when it comes to fulfilling them. With the permission of my lord the
duke, I will set out at once in search of this unfeeling youth; I will find
and challenge him, and, if he refuses to keep his word, I will surely
slay him. The principal object of my calling is to spare the humble and
chastise the haughty, to succor the wretched and destroy the oppressor."

"Your Grace," said the duke, "need not go to the trouble of seeking
out this rustic of whom the worthy duenna is complaining, nor need you
ask my permission to challenge him; I accept the challenge in his behalf
and will see that he is duly informed of the fact and that he comes here,
to this my castle, to answer and accept in person. I will afford you both
fair play, observing all the customary and rightful conditions and see-
ing that justice is done to each as is the duty of all those princes who
offer an open field to combatants who come to fight within the bounds
of their dominions."

"Very well," replied Don Quixote, "with this assurance and with
your Highness's kind permission, I declare that from now on I re-
nounce my status as a gentleman in order to put myself upon a level with
the lowborn culprit and make it possible for him as my equal to do
battle with me. And even though he be absent, I hereby challenge
and defy him by reason of the wrong that he has done in deceiving
this poor maiden, who was a virgin and now, through his fault, no
longer is. I maintain that he has either to keep the promise that he gave
her or die on the field of combat."

With this, he drew off one of his gloves and threw it down in the
middle of the room. The duke at once picked it up, saying again that
he accepted the challenge in the name of his vassal. He then fixed the
time for the duel at six days hence, the place to be the courtyard of
the castle and the weapons those customarily employed by knights:
the lance and buckler and coat of mail and all the other accessories,
without any trickery, cheating, or charms of any sort,751 the said weap-
ons and armor to be viewed and passed upon by the judges of the
contest.

"But first of all," he added, "it is necessary that this worthy duenna
and this unfortunate maiden place their cause entirely in the hands of
Don Quixote, for otherwise there is nothing to be done and the chal-
lenge cannot be put into effect."

"I hereby do so," said the duenna.

"I, too," said the daughter, who was all in tears and very much ashamed
of her sorry plight.

These arrangements having been made and the duke having deter-
mined what was to be done in the matter, the pair in mourning took
their leave; and the duchess gave orders that from then on they were
to be treated not as her servants but as ladies in trouble who had come
to her house to seek justice. They were, accordingly, given a room
apart and were waited upon as if they had been strangers, to the con-
siderable astonishment of the other servants, who wondered where the
folly and impudence of Dona Rodriguez and her ill-errant daughter752
would stop.

At this point, by way of adding the finishing touch to the meal and
bringing it to a pleasant close, lo and behold, that same page who had
carried the letters and presents to Teresa Panza, wife of Sancho Panza,
the governor, now entered the room. The duke and duchess were very
glad to see him, being anxious to hear what had happened to him in
the course of his journey; but in response to a question from them he
replied that he could not make his report in the presence of so many
people or in a few words, and so he suggested that they leave it for
another time, when they would be alone, and in the meanwhile amuse
themselves by listening to the letters that he had brought back with him.
With this, he took out the two letters and handed them to the duchess.
One of them bore the superscription: "Letter for My Lady the Duchess
So-and-So, of I Don't Know Where," while the other was directed
"To My Husband, Sancho Panza, Governor of the Island of Barataria,
and May God Prosper Him Longer Than He Does Me."

The duchess's bread would not bake, as the saying goes, until she had
read the one that was addressed to her. She opened it and glanced at
its contents, and then, seeing that it was proper to do so, she read it
aloud for the duke and the others to hear:

　　　　　　　TERESA PANZA'S LETTER TO THE DUCHESS

　　The letter that your Highness wrote me, my lady, gave me great
　　pleasure and was very welcome indeed.753 The string of coral beads
　　is very fine, and I can say the same of my husband's hunting suit.
　　This whole village is happy to know that you have made my husband,
　　Sancho, a governor, although nobody believes it, especially the curate,
　　and Master Nicholas the barber, and Sanson Carrasco the bachelor;
　　but that makes no difference to me, for so long as it is true, and I am
　　sure that it is, they may all say what they like--to tell the truth, I
　　would not have believed it myself if it had not been for the beads and
　　the suit. In this town everybody thinks my husband is a numskull,
　　fit only for governing a flock of goats, and cannot imagine what other
　　kind of government he would be good for. May the Lord's will be
　　done, and may God direct him in the right path for the best inter-
　　ests of his children.
　　　　I, my dear lady, with your Grace's permission, have made up my
　　mind to take advantage of this fine day 754 by coming to court where I
　　may stretch out in a coach and cause a thousand who are already jealous
　　of me to burst their eyeballs. And so I beg your Excellency to order
　　my husband to send me a little money, and let it be quite a little, for
　　expenses are heavy at court, with a loaf of bread costing a real and
　　meat thirty maravedis a pound, 755 which is really frightful. If he does
　　not want me to come, have him let me know at once, for my feet are
　　itching to be off. My women friends and neighbors tell me that if I
　　and my daughter cut a figure and make a fine show at court, my
　　husband will come to be better known on account of me than I will
　　be on account of him. For, of course, there will be many who will
　　ask, 'Who are those ladies in that coach yonder?' And one of my
　　servants will answer, 'The wife and daughter of Sancho Panza, gov*
　　ernor of the island of Barataria.' And that way, people will learn
　　who Sancho is, I'll be well thought of, and to Rome for everything.756
　　　　I am sorry as sorry can be that this year they have gathered no
　　acorns here, but for all of that I am sending your Highness about half
　　a peck; I myself went to the woods to gather them, one by one, but
　　I couldn't find any that were bigger than these--I only wish they
　　were as big as ostrich eggs.
　　　　Don't forget to write to me, your Mightiness,757 and I will be sure
　　to answer, letting you know how I am and whatever news there is
　　in this village, where I remain, praying Our Lord to keep your High-
　　ness and not be unmindful of me. My daughter Sancha and my
　　son 758 kiss your Grace's hands.
　　　　She who would rather see your Ladyship than write to you,

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Your servant,

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Teresa Panza

They were all very much pleased with this letter, especially the ducal
pair; and the duchess then asked Don Quixote if he thought it would be
right to open the one addressed to the governor, as she fancied it must
be a very good one. The knight replied that she might do so if it gave
her pleasure, and they found that it read as follows:

　　　　 　　TERESA PANZA'S LETTER TO SANCHO PANZA,
　　　　 　　　　　　 　　 HER HUSBAND

　　I received your letter, my dear Sancho, and I swear as a Catholic
　　Christian that I was within two fingers' breadth of going mad with
　　joy. Listen, brother, when I heard you were a governor, I was so
　　happy I thought I would drop dead; for you know what they say:
　　that sudden joy can kill you just as well as a great sorrow. As for
　　your daughter, Sanchica, she let her water go from pure delight.
　　There before me was the suit that you sent me and the beads from
　　my lady the duchess, for my neck, and there in my hand were the
　　letters with the messenger standing beside me; and yet, in spite of
　　all that, I fancied that what I saw and touched must be a dream, since
　　who would ever think that a goatherd would come to be governor
　　of islands--
　　　　But you know, my dear, what my mother used to say: that you
　　had to live a long time to see a lot. I tell you this because I expect to
　　see more if I live longer. I don't mean to stop until I see you a farmer
　　of revenues or tax collector; for while the devil carries off those that
　　abuse such offices,759 still they always hold and handle money. My
　　lady the duchess will tell you how anxious I am to come to court;
　　think it over and let me know how you feel about it. I will try to
　　be an honor to you by going in a coach.
　　　　The curate, the barber, the bachelor, and even the sacristan can-
　　not believe that you are a governor and say it is all some kind of hum-
　　bug or enchantment like everything that concerns your master, Don
　　Quixote; and Sanson says they are coming to look for you as they
　　mean to get that government out of your head and the madness out
　　of Don Quixote's noddle, but I only laugh and look at my string of
　　beads and go on planning the dress that I am going to make for our
　　daughter out of your suit. I sent some acorns to my lady the duchess
　　and wish they had been of gold. Send me a few strings of pearls if
　　hey have any in that island.
　　　　The news of this village is that Berrueca has married off her daugh-
　　ter to a good-for-nothing painter who came here looking for anything
　　that offered. The council gave him an order to paint his Majesty's
　　arms over the door of the town hall. His price was two ducats, which
　　they paid him in advance; he worked for a week and at the end of
　　that time had done nothing, saying that he could not bring himself
　　to paint trifling things of that sort. He paid them back the money
　　but got himself a wife by passing himself off as a good workman.
　　The truth is, he has now laid down the brush and taken up the spade
　　and goes to the field like a gentleman.
　　　　Pedro de Lobo's son has taken orders and the tonsure, with the in-
　　tention of becoming a priest. Minguilla, Mingo Silvato's granddaugh-
　　ter found it out and is suing him for promise to marry her, and the
　　evil tongues will have it that she is pregnant by him, although he
　　stoutly denies it.
　　　　There are no olives this year, nor is there a drop of vinegar to be
　　had in all the town. A company of soldiers passed this way, taking
　　with them three village girls; I would rather not tell you who they
　　are, for it may be they will come back and will not fail to find those
　　who will marry them with all their faults, for better or for worse.
　　Sanchica is making bone-lace 760 and earns eight maravedis 761 a day,
　　clear, which she puts into a money box toward household furnish-
　　ings; but now that you are a governor, you will give her a dowry
　　without her having to work. The fountain in the public square dried
　　up and lightning struck the pillory (it would suit me if that was
　　where it always hit).
　　　　I am waiting for an answer to this letter that I may know what you
　　think about my coming to court. And so, may God give you a longer
　　life than He does me, or at least as long a one since I would not want
　　to leave you without me in this world.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Your wife,
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Teresa Panza

These letters were praised, laughed over, relished, and admired; and
then, as if to put the seal on everything, the courier arrived with the
one that Sancho had written to Don Quixote. This also was read aloud
tind led them to doubt that the squire was as simple-minded as they
had taken him to be. The duchess then retired that she might hear from
the page what had happened in Sancho's village. He gave her a full
account, leaving out no slightest detail, and delivered to her the acorns
together with a cheese which Teresa assured him was very good, being
better than those of Tronchon.762 The duchess received it with great
pleasure; and we shall leave her there as we go on to relate how the
rule of the great Sancho Panza, flower and mirror of all island gov-
ernors, came to an end.

CHAPTER LIII.

Of the troublous end and conclusion of Sancho Panza' s government.



To IMAGINE that things in this life are always to remain as they
are is to indulge in an idle dream. It would appear, rather, that every-
thing moves in a circle, that is to say, around and around:763 spring
follows summer, summer the harvest season, harvest autumn, autumn
winter, and winter spring;764 and thus does time continue to turn like a
never-ceasing wheel. Human life alone hastens onward to its end, swifter
than time's self765 and without hope of renewal, unless it be in that other
life that has no bounds. So sayeth Cid Hamete, the Mohammedan phi-
losopher; for many who have lacked the light of faith, being guided
solely by the illumination that nature affords them, have yet attained
to a comprehension of the swiftness and instability of this present
existence and the eternal duration of the one we hope for. Our author,
however, is here thinking of the speed with which Sancho's government
was overthrown and brought to a close, and, so to speak, sent up in smoke
and shadow.

On the night of the seventh day after assuming his governorship
Sancho was lying in bed, sated not with bread or with wine but with
sitting in judgment, giving opinions, enacting statutes, and issuing de-
crees. In spite of his hunger, sleep was beginning to close his eyelids
when of a sudden he heard a great noise of bells and shouting as if the
whole island were sinking. He sat up in bed and strained his ears to
see if he could make out what the cause of such an uproar could be,
but in vain, for the sound of countless drums and trumpets was now
added to the din and he was more bewildered than ever and was filled
with fear and trembling. Getting to his feet, he put on a pair of slippers
on account of the dampness of the floor but did not stop for a dressing
gown or anything of the sort. As he dashed out the door of his room, he
saw coming toward him down the corridor more than a score of per-
sons carrying lighted torches and unsheathed swords.

"To arms! To arms, Lord Governor!" they cried. "An enemy host
has invaded the island and we are lost unless your wit and valor can
save us." And, keeping up the furious din all the while, they came to
where Sancho stood, dazed and terrified by what he saw and heard.

"Arm at once, your Lordship," one of them said to him, "unless you
choose to be lost, and the whole island with you."

"What have I to do with arming?" replied Sancho. "Or what do I
know about fighting--766 Better leave such things as that to my master
Don Quixote, who will settle everything in the blink of an eye and
save us all. Sinner that I am, God help me, I understand nothing about
these squabbles."

"Ah! my Lord Governor," said another, "what kind of fainthearted-
ness is this--Arm, your Grace; we bring you arms, both offensive and
defensive. Arm, and go out into the public square; be our leader and our
captain as is your duty, seeing that you are the governor."

"Arm me, then, for Heaven's sake," said Sancho.

They at once produced two large shields which they had brought
with them and put them on him over his shirt, one in front and the other
behind, permitting him to don no other garment. Through holes that
they had made for the purpose they drew his arms and then proceeded
to bind him very firmly with pieces of rope in such a manner as to leave
him walled in and boarded up straight as a spindle so that he could
not bend his knees or stir a single step. They then handed him a lance,
on which he leaned to keep from falling, and when they had him in
this condition they bade him lead them on and inspire them all with
courage, assuring him that he was their north pole, their lantern,767 and
their morning star who would bring this business to a successful con-
clusion.

"And how am I going to lead on, unlucky creature that I am," said
Sancho, "when these boards that cut into my flesh are bound so tight
I can't even move my kneecaps--What you are going to have to do
is, pick me up in your arms and set me down, crosswise or on my
feet, in some passageway, and I'll guarantee to hold it either with this
lance or with my body."

"Come, my Lord Governor," said one of them, "it is fear rather than
the boards that keeps you from moving. Have done with it and bestir
yourself, for it is late and the enemy's numbers are increasing, the shout-
ing grows louder, and the danger is pressing."

As a result of these exhortations and reproaches the poor governor
did his best to move, whereupon he fell down to the floor with such a
thud that they thought surely he must have broken himself to pieces.
He lay there like a tortoise in its shell, or a side of bacon between two
troughs, or a boat lying bottom upward on the beach; nor did the
jokers feel any compassion for him as they saw him in that plight, but
extinguishing their torches they began shouting louder than ever, re-
newing the cry "To arms! To arms!" with great vigor as they tram-
pled over poor Sancho, slashing so furiously at the shields that covered
him that, if he had not drawn his head in, the luckless governor would
have been in a very bad way indeed. As it was, huddled into that narrow
space, he sweat and sweat again as he prayed God with all his heart to
deliver him from this peril. Some stumbled over him, others fell upon
him, and one of them stood upon him for a good while, as if he had
been in a watchtower issuing orders to an army.

"Over this way, our men!" he cried in a stentorian voice. "Here's
where the enemy is charging in full force! Hold that breach! Close that
gate! Block those ladders!768 Bring on the pitch and resin and the boiling
oil! Barricade the streets with feather beds!" In brief, he shouted most
ardently for every variety of engine, implement, or contrivance that is
used in war and in defending a city against an assault.

As he heard and suffered all this, Sancho, thoroughly mauled and
trampled, said to himself, "Oh, if it would only please the Lord to let
them go ahead and take this island and let me die or else free me from
this torment!" Heaven granted his prayer, and when he least expected
it there came a cry, "Victory! Victory! The enemy is beaten and is
falling back! Ho, my Lord Governor, rise! Come and rejoice with us
and divide the spoils won by the might of that invincible arm."

"Lift me up," said the sorely battered Sancho in a sickly voice. And
when they had helped him to his feet, he went on, "The enemy that I
have conquered you can nail to my forehead. I don't want to divide
any spoils. All I ask is that some friend of mine, if I have any, give me
a drink of wine, for I am parched; and let him wipe the sweat from me,
as I am dripping wet."769

They wiped him off and brought him some wine, unbound the shields,
and seated him upon the bed, and then he promptly fainted away as a re-
sult of all the fear and excitement and the harsh treatment he had under-
gone. Those who had perpetrated the joke were now sorry that they
had carried it so far and they were relieved when Sancho came to him-
self again. He asked what time it was and was informed that it was
already daylight; and then, without saying another word, he started dress-
ing himself amid a profound silence as they all watched and waited to
see why he should be in such a hurry to put his clothes on. At length,
when he was fully clad, he little by little (for he was too stiff and sore
to walk fast) made his way out to the stable, followed by all those
present; and there he went up to the gray, embraced it, and gave it
a kiss on the forehead, not without tears in his eyes.

"Come, comrade and friend," he said, "partner in all my troubles
and hardships. When I was with you, I had no other care than that of
mending your harness and feeding that little carcass of yours. Those
for me were the happy hours, days, and years; but since leaving you and
mounting the towers of ambition and pride, a thousand troubles, a thou-
sand torments, and four thousand worries have entered my soul."

Even as he said this he was adjusting the packsaddle, without a word
from any of the bystanders. He then with great pain and difficulty
climbed up onto the gray's back and, addressing the major-domo, the
secretary, the butler, Doctor Pedro Recio, and all the others, he spoke
as follows:

"Clear the way, gentlemen, and let me go back to my old freedom.
Let me go look for my past life so that I may be resurrected from this
present death. I was not born to be a governor or to defend islands
and cities from enemies that would attack them. I know more about
plowing and digging and pruning vines than I do about laws or the
protection of islands and kingdoms. St. Peter is well enough off in
Rome;770 by which I mean that each one should follow the trade to which
he was born. In my hand a sickle is better than a governor's scepter.
I'd rather have my fill of gazpacho 771 than have to put up with a miserable,
meddling doctor who kills me with hunger. I'd rather stretch out in
the shade of an oak in summer and in winter wrap myself in a double
sheepskin jacket and enjoy my freedom than go to bed between sheets
of Holland linen and dress myself in sables and be no freer than a gov-
ernor is.

"And so, your Worships, God be with you. Tell my lord the duke
that naked was I born and naked I find myself, and so I neither win
nor lose.772 By this I mean that I came into this government without a
penny and I leave it without one, which is just the opposite of what
generally happens with the governors of other islands. Fall back, then,
and let me pass; I must get myself poulticed, for I think that all my
ribs are smashed, thanks to the enemies that trampled me last night."

"You must not do that, my Lord Governor," said Doctor Recio. "I
will give your Grace a potion that will soon make you as sound and
vigorous as ever; and as for your meals, I promise your Grace to do
better, by permitting you to eat abundantly of anything you desire."

"You speak too late," said Sancho. "I'd as soon turn Turk as stay
here. These jokes won't do a second time. By God, I would no more
keep this government or take another, even though they handed it to
me between two platters, than I would fly to Heaven without wings. I
come of Panza stock, and they are a stubborn lot; if they say odds,
then odds it must be even though it may be evens, and this in spite of
all the world. In this stable I leave behind me the ant's wings773 that lifted
me in the air so that the swifts and other birds might eat me; let's come
back to earth and walk with our feet once more, and if they're not shod
in pinked Cordovan leather, they'll not lack coarse hempen sandals.
Every ewe to her mate,774 and let no one stretch his leg beyond the
sheet.775 And so, once again, let me pass, for it is growing late."

To this the major-domo replied, "My Lord Governor, we will gladly per-
mit your Grace to leave, even though it grieves us very much to lose
you, as your wit and Christian conduct have endeared you to us. But
it is a well-known fact that every governor, before he departs from
the place where he has been governing, must first render an accounting,
and your Grace should do the same for the ten days776 that you have
been in office, and then you may go and the peace of God go with you."

"No one," said Sancho, "can demand that of me, unless it is someone
that my lord the duke has appointed, and I am on my way now to see the
duke and will give him an exact account. And, in any case, seeing that I
leave here naked, there is no other proof needed to show that I have gov-
erned like an angel."

"By God, if the great Sancho isn't right!" exclaimed Doctor Recio. "I
am of the opinion that we should let him go, for the duke will be de-
lighted to see him."

They all agreed to this and allowed Sancho to depart, having first of-
fered to provide him with company and anything that he needed in the
way of comfort or conveniences for the journey. He replied that all he
wanted was a little barley for his gray and half a cheese and half a loaf
of bread for himself, adding that since the distance was so short there
was no necessity for him to carry any more or better provisions than
that. They all embraced him then, and he, weeping, embraced them all
in turn after which he rode away, leaving them filled with admiration at
the words he had spoken and at the firmness and wisdom of his resolve.



CHAPTER LIV.

Which treats of matters having to do with this history and none other.



THE duke and duchess resolved to go ahead with the challenge which
Don Quixote, for reasons already set forth, had given their vassal; and
inasmuch as the young man was in Flanders, whither he had fled to
escape having Dona Rodriguez for a mother-in-law, they decided to sub-
stitute for him a Gascon lackey by the name of Tosilos, whom they first
instructed very carefully in all that he had to do.

A couple of days later the duke informed his guest that in four days'
time the opponent would come to present himself on the field of combat,
armed as a knight, and would there maintain that the damsel had lied by
half a beard, and even by a beard,777 if she asserted that he had promised
to marry her. Don Quixote was very much pleased with the news and
promised himself that he would do wonders in this instance; for he
looked upon it as a great good fortune that he should have an opportu-
nity to show his hosts how valiant and mighty an arm was his. He ac-
cordingly waited cheerfully and happily for the four days to pass, al-
though they seemed like four centuries to him, so impatient was he for
the fray.

But let them pass as we do other things, and let us, rather, accompany
Sancho, who, half joyful and half sad, was riding along on his gray to
rejoin his master, whose company afforded him more pleasure than the
governorship of all the islands in this world.

He had not gone far from the island where his government was situ-
ated (he was never able to determine whether it was in reality an island,
a city, a town, or a village) when, as it happened, he saw coming toward
him down the highway half a dozen pilgrims with their staffs, some of
those foreigners who go about singing and begging alms.778 As they ap-
proached him they formed in line and, raising their voices in unison,
began a song in some language of which Sancho could understand but
a single word: "alms." He knew, therefore, what it was they sought, and
being naturally extremely charitable, as Cid Hamete tells us, he took out
from his saddlebags the half loaf and half cheese with which he had come
provided and gave them to the pilgrims, indicating by signs that he had
nothing else to offer them. They accepted the gift willingly enough,
but kept saying "Geld! Geld!" 779

"I do not understand what you are asking for, good folks," said Sancho.

One of them then took out a purse from his bosom and displayed it,
from which Sancho knew that it was money they wanted. Putting a
thumb to his throat and extending his hand upward, he gave them to
understand that he had not a coin of any kind on him; and then, spurring
the gray, he broke through them. As he passed, however, one of them
who had been studying him very attentively flung his arms about him
and, in excellent Castilian, cried out, "God bless me! What is this I see?
Is it possible that I hold in my arms my dear friend and good neighbor
Sancho Panza--Yes, there can be no doubt about it, for I'm not asleep nor
am I drunk just now."

Sancho was quite taken aback at hearing himself thus called by name
and at being embraced by this foreign pilgrim. He stared hard at the fel-
low for a good long while, without saying a word, but was still unable
to recognize him.

Seeing his perplexity, the pilgrim said to him, "How can it be, Sancho
Panza, my brother, that you do not recognize your neighbor Ricote, the
Moorish shopkeeper of your village?"

Sancho continued to gaze at him harder than ever, and little by little
he began to place him. Then, slipping down of! the ass, he threw his
arms about his townsman's neck.

"Who the devil would ever have known you, Ricote," he said, "in
that down suit you are wearing--Tell me, who has made a Frenchman
out of you, and how do you dare come back to Spain, where, if they
catch and recognize you, it will go hard with you?"

"Since you did not know who I was, Sancho," replied the pilgrim,
"I am safe. No one would recognize me dressed as I am. But let us
leave the road and go into that poplar grove over there, where my
companions are going to eat and rest. You shall eat with them, for they
are very good folk. That will give me a chance to tell you what has
happened to me since I left our village in obedience to his Majesty's
command that threatened the unfortunate people of my nation with
such severe treatment, as you have heard."[note here]

Sancho consented, and after Ricote had spoken to the others they
went over to the poplar grove, which was at some distance from the
highway. There the mendicants cast aside their staffs and threw off
their capes or pilgrims' cloaks, being clad now only in their undergar-
ments. They were all fine young fellows, with the exception of Ricote,
who was well along in years, and they all carried saddlebags that ap-
peared to be well stocked, at least with those things that are capable of
exciting thirst and summoning it from two leagues away. They stretched
out on the ground and, making a tablecloth of the grass, set out upon
it bread, salt, knives, nuts, bits of cheese, and clean-picked ham-bones
which, if they could not be gnawed any longer, could still be sucked.
There was also a black substance called caviar, which is made of fish
eggs and is a great awakener of thirst. 7 There was no lack of olives,
and although they were dried and without seasoning, they were very
palatable.

But what made the best showing of all at that feast was half a dozen
flasks of wine, each of the pilgrims having produced one from his
saddlebags. Even the worthy Ricote, now transformed from a Moor
into a German, or Dutchman, brought out one that in size compared
favorably with the other five. They all fell to with right hearty appe-
tites, but they ate very slowly, taking up small morsels of food on the
end of their knives and savoring every mouthful; and then, at one and
the same time, they raised their arms and flasks aloft, with the mouths
of the wine bags 8 tight pressed against their own mouths and their eyes
fastened upon the heavens as if they were taking aim at the sky. They
sat like this for a good while, wagging their heads from side to side
as if to indicate the pleasure they found in emptying the contents of
the flasks into their stomachs.

Sancho took it all in and was not displeased at what he saw. 10 Indeed,
by way of putting into effect the proverb that he knew so well--"When
in Rome, do as you see" 11--he asked Ricote for his flask and took aim
along with the others. Four times the skins were hoisted, but the fifth
time it was useless, for they were drier than matweed, a circumstance
that diminished the mirth which the company thus far had shown.
Every now and then someone would take Sancho's right hand and say,
"Spaniard and German, all the same, good fellow," 12 and Sancho would
reply, "Good fellow, by God," 18 and would burst into a laugh that
lasted for an hour, during which time he remembered nothing of what
had happened to him in his government; for cares have little jurisdic-
tion while we are eating and drinking.

Finally, when the wine was exhausted, they began to feel drowsy
and ended by falling asleep over their table and tablecloth. Ricote and
Sancho alone remained awake, for they had eaten more and drunk less,
and the Morisco thereupon took his companion to one side, where
they seated themselves at the foot of a beech tree, leaving the others
buried in sweet slumber. Then it was Ricote began speaking, in purest
Castilian, without once falling into his own Moorish tongue.

"Sancho Panza, my friend and neighbor, you know very well how
terrified and dismayed all the people of my nation were by his Majesty's
edict and proclamation directed against us. To me, at any rate, it seemed
as if, even before the time that was granted us for getting out of Spain
had expired, I had already suffered the rigor of the law upon my own
person and those of my children. And so I decided--and wisely, I think,
like one who knows that on a certain date the house in which he lives
will be taken from him and who looks for another into which he may
move--I decided, as I was about to say, to leave town alone, without
my family, and to seek out a place to which I might take them in com-
fort so that we would not have to depart in last-minute haste like the
others.

"For I saw clearly, as did all our elders, that those proclamations were
no mere threats as some maintained, but actual laws that were to be put
into effect at a specified time. I was compelled to believe this because I
knew of the evil and foolish designs of our people, 14 and for this rea-
son it appeared to me to be a divine inspiration that led his Majesty to
carry out so bold a resolution. Not that they were all to blame, for some
were true Christians, but these latter were so few in number that they
were unable to hold out against those that were not. In short, and with
good reason, the penalty of banishment was inflicted upon us, a mild
and lenient one as some saw it, but for us it was the most terrible one
to which we could have been subjected.

"Wherever we may be, it is for Spain that we weep; for, when all is
said, we were born here and it is our native land. Nowhere have we met
with the reception that we hoped for. In Barbary and other parts of
Africa we expected to be received and welcomed with open arms, but
that is where we are insulted and treated the worst. We did not know
our good fortune until we had lost it; 15 and almost all of us are so anx-
ious to return that most of those, and they are many, who know the
language as I do are now coming back here, leaving their wives and
young ones behind and without protection, so great is their love for
this land. 16 As for me, I can say that I now know and feel what is meant
by the saying, 'Sweet is the love of one's country.'

"Well, then, as I have said, I left our town and made my way to
France; but although they gave us a very good reception, I wanted to
see all there was to be seen and so I went on to Italy and finally reached
Germany. There, it seemed to me, we might enjoy a freer life, as the
inhabitants are not overly concerned with fine points but each one does
very much as he likes, since for the most part there is full liberty of
conscience. 17 I took a house in Augsburg, after which I joined these
pilgrims, many of whom are in the habit of coming to Spain every year
to visit the sanctuaries, which are for them, like the Indies, an unfailing
source of profit. They go all over the country, and there is not a town
that they do not leave with their stomachs full of food and wine and at
least a real in cash, while at the end of their ramblings they have more
than a hundred crowns saved. Changing their money into gold, they
hide it in the hollow of their staffs or among the patches of their pil-
grims' cloaks, or they employ some other device for getting it out of
the realm and back to the country where they reside, and this in spite
of the guards that are stationed at the posts and passes.

"And now, Sancho, it is my intention to go back and get the treasure
that I left buried in the ground. As it is outside the village, I'll be able
to do this without danger, and then I will write to my wife and daugh-
ter, whom I know to be in Algiers, or will cross over in person from
Valencia, and make arrangements to bring them to some French port
and from there to Germany, where we will await what God may have
in store for us. For I am certain, Sancho, that my daughter, Ricota, and
Francisca Ricota, my wife, are Catholic Christians; and although I am
not as strong in the faith as they, I still am more of a Christian than a
Morisco and I pray God constantly to open the eyes of my under-
standing and reveal to me the way in which I may serve Him. What sur-
prises me is that my wife and daughter should have gone to Barbary
rather than to France, where they might have lived like Christians."

"You must remember, Ricote," said Sancho, "that it was not for them
to decide. It was Juan Tiopieyo, your wife's brother, who took them
away, and, being a shrewd Moor, 18 he knew what he was doing. And
I can tell you something else: I don't think it is any use for you to go
looking for that buried treasure, for we heard that they had taken from
your brother-in-law and your wife many pearls and much money in
gold that they wanted to carry out of the country." 19

"That may well be," replied Ricote, "but I am sure, Sancho, that they
did not lay hands on my hoard, for, being afraid that something would
happen, I told no one where it was. And so, if you want to come with
me and help me get it and hide it, I will give you two hundred crowns,
for which I know you can find good use, and you know that I know it."

"I would do it," said Sancho, "but I am not at all covetous. To show
you that I am not, only this morning I gave up an office in which, be-
fore six months had gone by, I might have lined the walls of my house
with gold and been eating off silver plates. For this reason, and be-
cause, as I see it, I would be betraying my king by showing favor to
his enemies, I would not go with you even though you offered me four
hundred crowns, cash down."

"And what office was it that you left, Sancho?" asked Ricote.

"I quit being governor of an island," replied Sancho, "and such an
island that, I give you my word, you'd have hard work finding its like."

"Where is this island?" Ricote wanted to know.

"Where is it--Why, two leagues from here; it's called the island of
Barataria."

"Be off with you, Sancho," said Ricote. "Islands are out there, in the
sea; there are none on the mainland."

"What do you mean?" said Sancho. "I am telling you, friend Ricote,
that I left there this morning and that yesterday I governed it at my
pleasure, like a Sagittarius; 20 but, for all of that, I gave it up, for it seemed
to me a dangerous trade, that of governor."

"And what did you get out of your government?" Ricote asked.

"I got the knowledge that I am not fit to govern anything, unless it
be a herd of cattle. I also learned that the riches to be had from such
governments are only to be gained at the loss of rest and sleep and even
nourishment; for on islands the governors eat little, especially where
they have doctors to look after their health.--..

"I don't know what you are talking about, Sancho, said Ricote, but
it sounds like nonsense to me. Who would be giving you islands to gov-
ern, anyway--Are there no men in the world more capable of governing
than you--Stop such prattle, come back to your senses, and make up
your mind whether or not you wish to come with me and help me get
the buried treasure that I left behind me. As I told you, I will see that
you have enough to live on out of it."

"And I have already told you, Ricote," said Sancho, "that I will not.
Be satisfied with my promise not to betray you. Go your way in
Heaven's name and let me go mine; for well-gotten gain may be lost,
but ill-gotten gain is bound to be, and its owner with it." 21

"I don't want to insist, Sancho," said Ricote. "But tell me, were you
in our village when my wife, my daughter, and my brother-in-law left?"

"That I was," Sancho assured him, "and I can tell you that your
daughter looked so lovely that everybody in the town came out to see
her off, and they all said that she was the most beautiful creature in the
world. She wept and embraced all her women friends and acquaintances
and all the others who were there to bid her farewell, and begged
them all to remember her in their prayers to God and to Our Lady,
His mother. I was so touched by it that, though I am not much given
to tears, I had to shed a few myself. And faith, there were many there
who felt like hiding her or going out and snatching her from the arm of
the law along the highway, but they were afraid to disobey the king's
command. Most concerned of all was Pedro Gregorio, the rich young
heir that you know, who, they say, was very fond of your daughter.
Since she left he has not been seen in our village, and we all think that
he went after her to rescue her, but up to now we have had no word of
any kind,"

"I suspected all along," said Ricote, "that the young gentleman was
in love with her, but I was not disturbed by it. You have doubtless heard,
Sancho, that the Morisco women almost never have anything to do in
an amorous way with old Christians; and since I believed that my daugh-
ter thought more of being a Christian than she did of falling in love, I
was not worried by the attentions of this heir."

"God grant it may be so," said Sancho, "for otherwise it would be
bad for both of them. And now, friend Ricote, I must leave you, for I
wish to reach the place where my master is by nightfall."

"God go with you, brother Sancho. My comrades are stirring, and
it is time for us to be on our way."

With this, the two of them embraced, Sancho mounted his gray,
Ricote leaned on his staff once more, and thus they parted.



CHAPTER LV.

Of the things that happened to Sancho along
the way, with other unsurpassable events.



As A RESULT of having spent so much time with Ricote, Sancho
was unable to reach the duke's castle that day, although he was within
half a league of it when night fell, a night that was dark and overcast.
However, as it was summer, he was not greatly concerned and merely
drew up at some distance from the road with the intention of waiting
until morning; but luck and fate as usual were against him, and so it
happened that, just as he was seeking a spot where he would be more
comfortable, both he and the gray tumbled into a deep and very dark pit
between some old buildings that stood there. Even as he was falling,
he prayed to God with all his heart, thinking that surely he would keep
on going down and down until he had come to the depths of the abyss;
but this was not the case, for at a little more than three fathoms I the ass
struck bottom and Sancho found himself still seated upon his mount,
unharmed in any way.

He felt his body all over and held his breath to make sure that he
really was sound of limb with no holes in him anywhere; and then, upon
discovering that he was quite all right, with no bones broken and in
perfectly good health, he gave no end of thanks to God Our Lord
for the mercy that had been shown him, for he had thought that he
undoubtedly would be broken into a thousand pieces. He next ran
his hands over the walls of the pit to see if it would be possible to get
out of it without help from anyone, but all he encountered was a smooth
surface without foothold of any kind. He was very much distressed
at this, especially when he heard the ass groaning with pain--and no
wonder the poor beast did so, nor could he be blamed for it, for the
truth is, he was in a very bad way.

"Ah," exclaimed Sancho Panza then, "how many unforeseen things
happen at every step to those that live in this wretched world! Who
would ever have said that he who yesterday was enthroned as the
governor of an island, ordering his servants and vassals about, would
today find himself buried in a pit with no one to help him or come to
his rescue, no servant or vassal of any sort--My donkey and I are going
to have to die here of hunger, unless he dies first of his jolts and bruises
and I of sorrow. One thing is certain, I'll not be as lucky as was my
master, Senor Don Quixote de la Mancha, when he went down into the
cave of that enchanted Montesinos, where he came upon people who
entertained him better than if he had been in his own house. Why, it
seems as if they had the table already laid for him and the bed made;
he saw beautiful and pleasant visions there, but all that I'll see here
will be toads and snakes.

"What an unlucky fellow I am! Where have my follies and my fancies
brought me--They'll take my bones out of here, whenever it pleases
Heaven to have them found, gnawed clean, white, and smooth. And
the bones of my good gray along with mine--that way, perhaps, they
will be able to make out who we are, at least those who have heard
how Sancho Panza and his ass were never parted one from the other.
Once again I say : what unlucky wretches we are, seeing that fate would
not let us die in our own country, among our own people! There, even
if nothing could be done to remedy our misfortune, we'd at least have
had someone to grieve for us and close our eyes at the end as we passed
away!

"O friend and comrade,'' he went on, addressing the donkey, 2 "how
ill have I repaid your services! Forgive me, and beg fortune as hard as
you can to get us out of this miserable plight in which the two of us
now find ourselves. I promise you, I'll put a laurel wreath on your head
so that you'll look like a poet laureate, 3 and I'll also give you double
rations."

Such was the manner in which Sancho Panza voiced his laments, and
the ass listened to him but answered not a word, 4 so great was the poor
creature's anguish and suffering. Finally the night, filled with moans
and wails, came to an end, and by the light of day Sancho perceived that
it was absolutely impossible for him to get out of the pit unaided, where-
upon he once more began calling out piteously to see if anyone heard
him; but it was like crying aloud in the desert, for in all that region
there was not a human ear to pay heed, and then it was that he gave
himself up for dead. The gray was lying on his back and his master now
managed to get him on his feet, although the animal was barely able to
stand. Taking out a crust 5 from his saddlebags--for they had shared
the misfortune of man and beast--Sancho fed it to his mount, which
seemed to appreciate it. As he did so, he remarked as if the gray could
understand him, "With bread, all sorrows are good." *

Looking about him, he discovered a hole on one side of the pit big
enough for a person to squeeze through, and promptly made for it.
Creeping along, he found that on the inside the hole was wide and roomy
and that it was light enough for him to see, thanks to a ray of sunlight
that came in through what might be called the roof, illuminating every-
thing; and he then observed that it expanded at the far end into a spa-
cious cavity. As soon as he saw this, he came back to where the donkey
was and, picking up a stone, began knocking the earth away until he
had enlarged the opening sufficiently for the beast to be able to pass
through without difficulty. Having accomplished this, he took the gray
by the halter and led him across the cavern beyond by way of ascer-
taining if there was any outlet on the other side. He went in darkness a
part of the time and at other times without light, 7 but never without
fear.

"God Almighty help me!" he said to himself. "This may be hard
luck for me, but it would make a good adventure for my master Don
Quixote. He would take these depths and dungeons for flowery gardens
and Galiana's palace 8 and would expect to come out of this dark nar-
row place into some meadow all in bloom; but I, poor hopeless wretch,
with no one to lend me encouragement, am thinking at every step I
take that another hole deeper than the first one is suddenly going to
open up under my feet and swallow me. Welcome, evil, if you come
alone." 9

With such thoughts as these in mind he went on until it seemed to
him that he had gone a little more than half a league, and then he de-
scried a dim light that came from somewhere and appeared to be day-
light, showing that this road which for him was one leading to the
other world ended there in an aperture of some kind.

At this point Cid Hamete leaves him and goes back to Don Quixote,
who with great elation was waiting for the appointed battle that he
was to wage with the one who had robbed Dona Rodriguez' daughter
of her honor, a shameful wrong and grievance which he intended to
avenge. Having sallied forth one morning to practice his skill at what
he had to do in the encounter set for the following day, he was en-
gaged in putting Rocinante through a short gallop or mock charge
when the hoofs of his mount came so near the edge of a pit that, had
he not reined in sharply, he would never have been able to avoid falling
into it As it was, he stopped just in time and did not fall. Coming up a
little nearer to the cavern, but without dismounting, he gazed down
into its depths and, as he did so, heard loud cries from somewhere in-
side it. He listened closely and succeeded in making out what was said.

"Ho, up there! Is there any Christian who hears me, or any charitable
knight who will take pity on a sinner buried alive, a poor unfortunate
governor without a government?"

It sounded to Don Quixote like Sancho Panza's voice, at which he
was greatly astonished. "Who is it down below?" he shouted as loudly
as he could. "Who is it that is lamenting in that manner?"

"Who should it be," came the answer, "or who should be lamenting,
if not the wretched Sancho Panza, who as a punishment for his sins has
the misfortune to be governor of the island of Barataria, and who was
formerly squire to the famous knight Don Quixote de la Mancha?"

Upon hearing this Don Quixote was doubly astonished, and his amaze-
ment grew as the thought came to him that Sancho Panza must be dead
and his soul in torment down there. Carried away by this idea, he called
out once more, "I conjure you by all that, as a Catholic Christian, I well
may conjure you by, tell me who you are and whether or not you are
a sbul in torment. Tell me, also, what it is that you would have me do
for you; for it is my calling to aid and succor those who are in trouble
in this world, and those in the other world as well who are not able to
help themselves."

"From what you say," was the reply, "your Grace who is talking to
me now must be my master Don Quixote de la Mancha; there is no
doubt about it: the very tone of voice tells me it cannot be anybody
else."

"I am indeed Don Quixote," said the knight, "he who professes to aid
and succor all those in need, both the living and the dead. And so, tell
me who you are and do not keep me any longer in suspense. If you are
my squire, Sancho Panza, and have died, and if the devils have not car-
ried you off and you by God's mercy are in purgatory, then our holy
mother, the Roman Catholic Church, has the means of releasing you
from the torments that you are suffering, and I for my part will inter-
cede with her in your behalf in so far as my worldly substance will per-
mit. Therefore declare yourself and tell me who you are."

"By all that's holy!" 10 the voice answered, "and by the birth of any-
one your Grace wishes, I swear, Senor Don Quixote de la Mancha, that
I am your squire, Sancho Panza, and that I never have died in all the
days of my life. Having left my government owing to circumstances
and reasons which it would take too long to explain, I fell last night
into this pit where I am now, and the gray with me--he will not let
me lie, seeing that, by way of further proof, he is right here beside me."

Nor was this all; it was as if the ass had understood what Sancho
said, for he at once began braying so lustily that the whole cavern echoed
with the sound.

"A famous witness," observed Don Quixote. "I know that bray as a
mother does her child, 11 and I can hear your voice too, my Sancho. Wait
for me and I will go to the duke's castle, which is near by, and bring
someone to get you out of that pit into which you must have fallen on
account of your sins."

"Go, your Grace," said Sancho, "and, for God's sake, come back
soon, as I can't stand it here, being buried alive and dying of fear."

Don Quixote thereupon went to the castle to tell the duke and duchess
what had happened to his squire. They were not a little surprised,
although they could understand Sancho's having fallen, since the cav-
ern had been there from time immemorial. What they could not under-
stand was why he had left his government without notifying them of
his coming. Finally, as the saying is, 12 they brought ropes and tackle
and by dint of many people and much labor contrived to rescue Sancho
Panza and the ass from that darkness and draw them up to the light of
day.

Seeing Sancho emerge in such a manner, a student remarked, "That is
the way all bad governors ought to leave their governments: like this
sinner who comes forth from the depths of the abyss, dead of hunger,
pale-faced, and, I'll wager, without a penny to his name.

Sancho overheard him and replied, "It was eight or ten days ago,
brother backbiter, that I came to govern the island which they had
given me, and not for one hour of that time did I have my fill of bread;
the doctors persecuted me and enemies broke my bones and I had no
chance to take bribes or collect my dues; 13 and this being so, as in-
deed it is, I can't see that I deserve to come out in this fashion; but man
proposes and God disposes, 14 and different times different manners; 16
let no one say 'I won't drink of this water,' 16 for where you think there
is bacon there are no pegs; 17 God knows what I mean and I say no
more, though I could if I wanted to."

"Do not be angry at what you hear, Sancho, and do not let it trouble
you," said Don Quixote,"for if you do, there will be no end of it. See
that your conscience is clear and let them say what they like, since to
endeavor to bind the tongues of slanderers is like trying to put doors to
the open country. If a governor leaves his office a rich man, they say
that he has been a thief; and if he comes out a poor man, they brand
him as worthless and a fool."

"Well, this time," replied Sancho, "they'll surely have to set me
down as a fool rather than a thief."

Conversing in this manner and surrounded by a crowd of small boys
and other people, they reached the castle, where the duke and duchess
were waiting for them. Sancho, however, was unwilling to go up and
meet the duke until he first had stabled his gray, which, as he remarked,
had spent a very bad night. When this had been attended to, he mounted
the stairs and knelt before my lord and lady.

"Because," he said, "it was your Highnesses' pleasure and not on ac-
count of any merits of my own, I went to govern your island of Bara-
taria. I was naked when I entered upon my government and naked I
find myself now, and so I neither lose nor gain. As to whether I gov-
erned well or ill, I had witnesses who will say what they will. I answered
questions, solved problems, and decided cases at law, and all the while
I was dying of hunger to please Doctor Pedro Redo, native of Tirtea-
fuera, doctor to the island and its governor. Enemies fell upon us by
night and we were very hard pressed, but the islanders say that it
was due to the might of my arm that they came out of it free and vic-
torious, and may God give them health to the extent that they are tell-
ing the truth.

"The short of it is that during this time I had a chance to try out
the burdens and responsibilities of governing and I find that, by my
reckoning, my shoulders cannot bear the weight; it is no load for these
ribs of mine, and these are no arrows for my quiver. And so, before
the government threw me over, I decided to throw over the govern-
ment; and yesterday morning I left the island as I found it, with the same
streets, houses, and roofs that it had when I came. I asked no one for a
loan nor did I try to make any money out of my office; and although I
had it in mind to make a few laws, I made none, 18 since I was afraid they
would not be kept and then it would be all the same whether I made
them or not.

"I left the island, as I have said, with only my gray for company. I
fell into a pit but kept on going until, this morning, by the light of the
sun, I saw an outlet. It was not so easy to get out of it though, and if
Heaven had not sent my master Don Quixote to me, I'd have been
there until the end of the world. And so, my lord and lady, the Duke and
Duchess, your governor, Sancho Panza, who stands before you here,
in the ten days, no more, that he has held the governorship, has come
to learn that he would not give anything whatever to rule, not alone
an island, but the entire world. Now that I've made this clear, I kiss
your Highnesses' feet; and like the small lads who say 'Leap and let me
have it,' 19 I give a leap out of my government and pass over to the
service of my master Don Quixote; for with him, even though I eat my
bread with fear and trembling, at least I get my fill, and in that case it's
all the same to me whether it be of carrots or of partridges."

With this, Sancho brought his long speech to a close. Don Quixote
had feared that his squire would utter all kinds of nonsense, and when
he heard him finish as sensibly as this he gave thanks to Heaven from
the bottom of his heart. The duke then embraced Sancho, expressing
his regret that the governor had quitted his post so soon and adding
that he would provide him with another, there on his estate, that car-
ried with it less responsibility and would prove more profitable. The
duchess did the same and gave orders that he be looked after, as he ap-
peared to be suffering from the bruises he had received.