DON QUIXOTE.
This conversation between the two heroes was overheard by the duke and duchess, and all who were in their garden, to their great diversion; and, being now disposed to finish the adventure, they applied some lighted flax to Clavileno's tail; upon which, his body being full of combustibles, he instantly blew up with a prodigious report, and threw his riders to the ground. The Trifaldi, with the whole bearded squadron of duennas, vanished, and all that remained in the garden were laid stretched on the ground as if in a trance. Don Quixote and Sancho got upon their legs in but an indifferent plight, and looking round, were amazed to find themselves in the same garden with such a number of people strewed about them on all sides; but their wonder was increased when, on a huge lance sticking in the earth they beheld a sheet of white parchment attached to it by silken strings, whereon was written, in letters of gold, the following words:
"The renowned knight Don Quixote de la Mancha has achieved the stupendous adventure of Trifaldi the Afflicted, and her companions in grief, only by attempting it. Malambruno is satisfied, his wrath is appeased, the beards of the unhappy are vanished, and Don Clavijo and Antonomasia have recovered their pristine state. When the squirely penance shall be completed, then shall the white dove, delivered from the cruel talons of the pursuing hawks, be enfolded in the arms of her beloved turtle:—such is the will of Merlin, prince of enchanters."
Don Quixote having read the prophetic decree, and perceiving at once that it referred to the disenchantment of Dulcinea, he expressed his gratitude to Heaven for having, with so much ease, performed so great an exploit, whereby many venerable females had been happily rescued from disgrace. He then went to the spot where the duke and duchess lay on the ground, and taking the duke by the arm, he said, "Courage, courage, my good lord; the adventure is over without damage to the bars, as you will find by that record." The duke gradually, as if awaking from a sound sleep, seemed to recover his senses, as did the duchess andthe rest of the party; expressing, at the same time, so much wonder and affright that what they feigned so well seemed almost reality to themselves. Though scarcely awake, the duke eagerly looked for the scroll; and having read it, with open arms embraced Don Quixote, declaring him to be the bravest of knights. Sancho looked all about for the afflicted dame, to see what kind of face she had when beardless, and whether she was now as goodly to the sight as her stately presence seemed to promise; but he was told that, when Clavileno came tumbling down in the flames through the air, the Trifaldi, with her whole train, vanished with not a beard to be seen among them—every hair was gone, root and branch!
The duchess inquired of Sancho how he had fared during that long voyage? "Why, truly, madam," answered he, "I have seen wonders; for, as we were passing through the region of fire, as my master called it, I had, you must know, a mighty mind to take a peep; and, though my master would not consent to it, I, who have an itch to know everything, and a hankering after whatever is forbidden, could not help, softly and unperceived, shoving the cloth a little aside, when through a crevice I looked down, and there I saw (Heaven bless us!) the earth so far off that it looked to me no bigger than a grain of mustard-seed, and the men that walked upon it little bigger than hazel-nuts!—only think, then, what a height we must have been!" "Take care what you say, friend," said the duchess; "had it been so, you could not have seen the earth for the people upon it; a hazel-nut, good man, would have covered the whole earth." "Like enough," said Sancho; "but, for all that, I had a side-view of it, and saw it all." "Take heed, Sancho," said the duchess; "for one cannot see the whole of anything by a side-view." "I know nothing about views," replied Sancho; "I only know that your ladyship should remember that, since we flew by enchantment, by enchantment I might see the whole earth, and all the men upon it, in whatever way I looked; and, if your ladyship will not credit that, neither will you believe me when I tell you that, thrusting up the kerchief close to my eyebrows, I found myself so near the sky that it was not above a span from me, and it so fell out that we passed close by the place where the seven she-goats are kept; and, truly, having been a goatherd in my youth, I no sooner saw them but I longed to play with them awhile; and, had I not done it, I verily think I should have died; so what does I but, without saying a word, softly slide down from Clavileno, and play with the sweet little creatures, which are like so many violets, for almost three quarters of an hour; and all the while Clavileno seemed not to move from the place, nor stir a foot." "And while honest Sancho was diverting himself with the goats," quoth the duke, "how did Sigñor Don Quixote amuse himself?" To which the knight answered: "As these and suchlike concernsare out of the order of nature, I do not wonder at Sancho's assertions; for my own part, I can truly say I neither looked up nor down, and saw neither heaven nor earth, nor sea nor sands. It is, nevertheless, certain that I was sensible of our passing through the region of the air, and even touched upon that of fire; but, that we passed beyond it, I cannot believe; for, the fiery region lying between the sphere of the moon and the uppermost region of the air, we could not reach that place where the seven goats are which Sancho speaks of without being burnt; and, since we were not burnt, either Sancho lies or Sancho dreams." "I neither lie nor dream," answered Sancho: "only ask me the marks of these same goats, and by them you may guess whether I speak the truth or not." "Tell us what they were, Sancho," quoth the duchess. "Two of them," replied Sancho, "are green, two carnation, two blue, and one motley-coloured." "A new kind of goats are those," said the duke; "in our region of the earth we have none of such colours." "The reason is plain," quoth Sancho; "your highness will allow that there must be some difference between the celestial goats and those of this lower world." They did not choose to question Sancho any more concerning his journey, perceiving him to be in the humour to ramble all over the heavens, and tell them all that was passing there, without having stirred a foot from the place where he mounted.
Thus concluded the adventure of the afflicted duenna, which furnished the duke and duchess with a subject of mirth, not only at the time, but for the rest of their lives, and Sancho something to relate had he lived for ages. "Sancho," said Don Quixote (whispering him in the ear), "if thou wouldst have us credit all thou hast told us just now, I expect thee to believe what I saw in Montesinos' cave—I say no more."
The instructions which Don Quixote gave to Sancho Panza, before he went to his government; with other well-digested matter.
Theduke and duchess being so well pleased with the adventure of the afflicted duenna were encouraged to proceed with other projects, seeing that there was nothing too extravagant for the credulity of the knight and the squire. The necessary orders were accordingly issued to their servants and vassals with regard to their behaviour towards Sancho in his government of the promised island. The day after the flight of Clavileno, the duke bidSancho prepare and get himself in readiness to assume his office, for his islanders were already wishing for him, as for rain in May. "To-morrow," said he, "you surely depart for your island, and this evening you shall be fitted with suitable apparel and with all things necessary for your appointment." "Clothe me as you will," said Sancho, "I shall still be Sancho Panza." "That is true," said the duke; "but the garb should always be suitable to the office and rank of the wearer: for a lawyer to be habited like a soldier, or a soldier like a priest, would be preposterous; and you, Sancho, must be clad partly like a scholar, and partly a soldier; as, in the office you will hold, arms and learning are united." "As for learning," replied Sancho, "I have not much of that, for I hardly know my A, B, C: but to be a good governor, it will be enough that I am able to make my Christ-cross; and as to arms, I shall handle such as are given me till I fall, and so God help me." "With so good an intention," quoth the duke, "Sancho cannot do wrong." At this time Don Quixote came up to them; and hearing how soon Sancho was to depart to his government, he took him by the hand, and, with the duke's leave, led him to his chamber, in order to give him some advice respecting his conduct in office; and, having entered, he shut the door, and, almost by force, made Sancho sit down by him, and, with much solemnity, addressed him in these words:
"I am thankful to Heaven, friend Sancho, that, even before fortune has crowned my hopes, prosperity has gone forth to meet thee. I, who had trusted in my own success for the reward of thy services, am still but on the road to advancement, whilst thou, prematurely and before all reasonable expectation, art come into full possession of thy wishes. Some must bribe, importune, solicit, attend early, pray, persist, and yet do not obtain what they desire; whilst another comes, and, without knowing how, jumps at once into the preferment for which so many had sued in vain. It is truly said that 'merit does much, but fortune more.'
'The happy have their days, and those they choose;Th' unhappy have but hours, and those they lose!'
'The happy have their days, and those they choose;Th' unhappy have but hours, and those they lose!'
'The happy have their days, and those they choose;Th' unhappy have but hours, and those they lose!'
Thou, who, in respect to me, art but a very simpleton, without either early rising or late watching, without labour of body or mind, by the air alone of knight-errantry breathing on thee, findest thyself the governor of an island, as if it were a trifle, a thing of no account!"
"All this I say, friend Sancho, that thou mayest not ascribe the favour done thee to thine own merit, but give thanks, first to Heaven, which disposeth things so kindly; and in the next place, acknowledge with gratitude the inherent grandeur of the profession of knight-errantry.
"Listen now to the few counsels which I shall give thee for thy conduct:
"First, my son, fear God: for, to fear him is wisdom; and being wise, thou canst not err.
"Conceal not the meanness of thy family, nor think it disgraceful to be descended from peasants; for, when it is seen that thou art not thyself ashamed, none will endeavour to make thee so; and deem it more meritorious to be a virtuous humble man than a lofty sinner. Infinite is the number of those who, born of low extraction, have risen to the highest dignities both in church and state; and of this truth I could tire thee with examples.
"If thou takest thy wife with thee (and it is not well for those who are appointed to governments to be long separated from their families), teach, instruct, and polish her from her natural rudeness; for it often happens that all the consideration a wise governor can acquire is lost by an ill-bred and foolish woman.
"If thou shouldst become a widower (an event which is possible), and thy station entitles thee to a better match, seek not one to serve thee for a hook and angling-rod; for, believe me, whatever the judge's wife receives, the husband must account for at the general judgment, and shall be made to pay fourfold for all that of which he has rendered no account during his life.
"Be not under the dominion of thine own will: it is the vice of the ignorant, who vainly presume on their own understanding.
"Let the tears of the poor find more compassion, but not more justice, from thee than the applications of the wealthy.
"Be equally solicitous to sift out the truth amidst the presents and promises of the rich, and the sighs and entreaties of the poor.
"Whenever equity may justly temper the rigour of the law, let not the whole force of it bear upon the delinquent: for it is better that a judge should lean on the side of compassion than severity.
"If perchance the scales of justice be not correctly balanced, let the error be imputable to pity, not to gold.
"If perchance the cause of thine enemy come before thee, forget thy injuries, and think only on the merits of the case.
"Let not private affection blind thee in another man's cause; for the errors thou shalt thereby commit are often without remedy, and at the expense both of thy reputation and fortune.
"When a beautiful woman comes before thee to demand justice, consider maturely the nature of her claim, without regarding either her tears or her sighs, unless thou wouldst expose thy judgment to the danger of being lost in the one, and thy integrity in the other.
"Revile not with words him whom thou hast to correct with deeds: the punishment which the unhappy wretch is doomed to suffer is sufficient, without the addition of abusive language.
"When the criminal stands before thee, recollect the frail and depraved nature of man, and, as much as thou canst, without injustice to the suffering party, shew pity and clemency; for, though the attributes of God are all equally adorable, yet his mercy is more shining and attractive in our eyes than his justice.
"If, Sancho, thou observest these precepts, thy days will be long and thy fame eternal; thy recompense full, and thy felicity unspeakable. Thou shalt marry thy children to thy heart's content, and they and thy grandchildren shall want neither honours nor titles. Beloved by all men, thy days shall pass in peace and tranquillity; and when the inevitable period comes, death shall steal on thee in a good and venerable old age, and thy grandchildren's children, with their tender and pious hands, shall close thine eyes.
"The advice I have just given thee, Sancho, regards the good and ornament of thy mind; now listen to the directions I have to give concerning thy person and deportment."
Of the second instruction Don Quixote gave Sancho Panza.
Duringthe whole of this private conference, Sancho listened to his master with great attention, and endeavoured so to register his counsel in his mind that he might thereby be enabled to bear the burden of government, and acquit himself honourably. Don Quixote now proceeded:
"As to the regulation of thy own person and domestic concerns," said he, "in the first place, Sancho, I enjoin thee to be cleanly in all things. Keep the nails of thy fingers neatly pared, nor suffer them to grow as some do, who ignorantly imagine that long nails beautify the hand, whereas it is a foul and unsightly object.
"Examine prudently the income of thy office, and, if it will afford thee to give liveries to thy servants, give them such as are decent and lasting, rather than gaudy and modish; and what thou shalt thus save in thy servants bestow on the poor: so shalt thou have attendants both in heaven and earth,—a provision which our vain-glorious great never think of.
"Eat neither garlic nor onions, lest the smell betray thy rusticity.Walk with gravity, and speak deliberately; but not so as to seem to be listening to thyself; for affectation is odious.
"Eat little at dinner, and less at supper; for the health of the whole body is tempered in the laboratory of the stomach.
"Drink with moderation; for inebriety neither keeps a secret, nor performs a promise.
"In the next place, Sancho, do not intermix in thy discourse such a multitude of proverbs as thou wert wont to do; for, though proverbs are concise and pithy sentences, thou dost often so drag them in by the head and shoulders that they seem rather the maxims of folly than of wisdom.
"Let thy sleep be moderate; for he who rises not with the sun enjoys not the day; and remember, Sancho, that diligence is the mother of good fortune, and that sloth, her adversary, never arrived at the attainment of a good wish.
"At this time I have but one more admonition to give thee, which, though it concerns not thy person, is well worthy of thy careful remembrance. It is this,—never undertake to decide contests concerning lineage, or the pre-eminence of families; since, in the comparison, one must of necessity have the advantage, and he whom thou hast humbled will hate thee, and he who is preferred will not reward thee.
"As for thy dress, wear breeches and hose, a long coat, and a cloak somewhat longer; but for trousers or trunk-hose, think not of them: they are not becoming either gentlemen or governors.
"This is all the advice, friend Sancho, that occurs to me at present; hereafter, as occasions offer, my instructions will be ready, provided thou art mindful to inform me of the state of thy affairs."
"Sir," answered Sancho, "I see very well that all your worship has told me is wholesome and profitable; but what shall I be the better for it if I cannot keep it in my head? It is true, I shall not easily forget what you said about paring my nails, and marrying again if the opportunity offered; but for your other quirks and quillets, I protest they have already gone out of my head as clean as last year's clouds; and therefore let me have them in writing; for, though I cannot read them myself, I will give them to my confessor, that he may repeat and drive them into me in time of need."
"Heaven defend me!" said Don Quixote, "how scurvy doth it look in a governor to be unable to read or write! Indeed, Sancho, I must needs tell thee that when a man has not been taught to read, or is left-handed, it argues that his parentage was very low, or that, in early life, he was so indocile and perverse that his teachers could beat nothing good into him. Truly this is a great defect in thee, and therefore I would have thee learn to write, if it were only thy name." "That I can do already,"quoth Sancho; "for, when I was steward of the brotherhood in our village, I learned to make certain marks like those upon wool-packs, which, they told me, stood for my name. But, at the worst, I can feign a lameness in my right hand, and get another to sign for me: there is a remedy for everything but death; and, having the staff in my hand, I can do what I please. Besides, as your worship knows, he whose father is mayor——and I being governor, am, I trow, something more than mayor. Ay, ay, let them come that list, and play at bo-peep,—ay, fleer and backbite me; but they may come for wool, and go back shorn: 'his home is savoury whom God loves;'—besides, 'the rich man's blunders pass current for wise maxims;' so that I, being a governor, and therefore wealthy, and bountiful to boot—as I intend to be—nobody will see any blemish in me. No, no, let the clown daub himself with honey, and he will never want flies. As much you have, just so much you are worth, said my grannam; revenge yourself upon the rich who can." "Away with your proverbs," exclaimed Don Quixote; "this hour, or more, thou hast been stringing thy musty wares, poisoning and torturing me without mercy. Take my word for it, these proverbs will one day bring thee to the gallows. However, I am comforted in having given thee the best counsel in my power; and therein, having done my duty, I am acquitted both of my obligation and my promise: so God speed thee, Sancho, and govern thee in thy government, and disappoint my fears for thy turning all things upside down in that poor island; which I might indeed prevent, by giving the duke a more perfect insight into thee, and discovering to him thou art nothing better than a bundle of proverbs, and sackful of knavery."
"Look you, sir," quoth Sancho, "if you think me not fit for this government, I will think no more on it. Alas! the least snip of my soul's nails (as a body may say) is dearer to me than my whole body; and I hope I can live plain Sancho still, upon a luncheon of bread and a clove of garlic, as contented as Governor Sancho upon capons and partridges. Death and sleep make us all alike, rich and poor, high and low. Do but call to mind what first put this whim of government into my noddle, you will find it was your own self; for, as for me, I know no more what belongs to islands and governors than a blind buzzard. So if you fancy the devil will have me for being a governor, let me be plain Sancho still, and go to heaven, rather than my lord governor, and go to hell."
"These last words of thine, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "in my opinion, prove thee worthy to govern a thousand islands. Thou hast naturally a good disposition, without which all knowledge is insufficient. Recommend thyself to Divine Providence, and be sure never to depart from uprightness of intention; I mean, have still a firm purpose and design to be thoroughly informedin all the business that shall come before thee; and act upon just grounds, for Heaven always favours good desires. And so let us go to dinner; for I believe now the duke and duchess expect us."
How Sancho Panza was carried to his government; and of the strange adventure that befell Don Quixote in the castle.
Afterdinner, Don Quixote gave Sancho, in writing, the copy of his verbal instructions, ordering him to get somebody to read them to him. But the squire had no sooner got them, than he dropt the paper, which fell into the duke's hands, who communicating the same to the duchess, they found a fresh occasion of admiring the mixture of Don Quixote's good sense and extravagance; and so, carrying on the humour, they sent Sancho that afternoon, with a suitable equipage, to the place he was to govern, which, wherever it lay, was to be an island to him.
It happened that the management of this affair was committed to a steward of the duke's, a man of a facetious humour, and who had not only wit to start a pleasant design, but discretion to carry it on. He had already personated the Countess Trifaldi very successfully; and, with his master's instructions in relation to his behaviour towards Sancho, could not but discharge his trust to a wonder. Now it fell out, that Sancho no sooner cast his eyes on the steward than he fancied he saw the very face of Trifaldi; and turning to his master, "Look, sir," quoth he, "and see if this same steward of the duke's here has not the very face of my Lady Trifaldi." Don Quixote looked very earnestly on the steward, and having perused him from top to toe, "Sancho," said he, "thou art in the right; I see their faces are the very same. Yet, for all that, the steward and the disconsolate lady cannot be the same person, for that would imply a very great contradiction, and might involve us in more abstruse and difficult doubts than we have conveniency now to discuss or examine. Believe me, friend, our devotion cannot be too earnest, that we may be delivered from the power of these cursed enchantments." "You may think, sir," quoth Sancho, "that I am in jest, but I heard him speak just now, and I thought the very voice of Madam Trifaldi sounded in my ears. But mum is the word; I say nothing, though I shall watch him well, to find out whether I am right or wrong in my suspicion." "Well, do so," said Don Quixote; "and fail not to acquaint me with all the discoveries thou canst make in this affair, and other occurrences in thy government."
At last, Sancho set out with a numerous train. He was dressed like a man of the long-robe, and wore over his otherclothes a white sad-coloured coat or gown, of watered camblet, and a cap of the same stuff. He was mounted on a mule; and behind him, by the duke's order, was led his Dapple, bridled and saddled like a horse of state, in gaudy trappings of silk; which so delighted Sancho, that every now and then he turned his head about to look upon him, and thought himself so happy, that now he would not have changed fortunes with the Emperor of Germany.
Immediately upon Sancho's departure, Don Quixote found the want of his presence; and, had it been in his power, he would have revoked his authority, and deprived him of his commission. The duchess, perceiving his disquiet, and desiring to know the cause of his melancholy, told him, that if it was Sancho's absence made him uneasy, she had squires enough, and damsels in her house, that should supply his place in any service he would be pleased to command. "It is true, madam," answered Don Quixote, "I am somewhat concerned for the absence of Sancho; but there is a more material cause of my present uneasiness, and I must beg to be excused, if, among the many obligations your grace is pleased to confer on me, I decline all but the good intention that has offered them. All I have further to crave is, your grace's permission to be alone in my apartment, and to be my own servant." "Sir," said the duchess, waving further discourse, "it is supper-time, and my lord expects us. Come, then, let us to supper, that you may go to bed betimes; for you must needs be weary still with the long journey you took to Candaya yesterday." "Indeed, madam," answered Don Quixote, "I feel no manner of weariness; for I can safely swear to your grace, that I never rode an easier horse, nor a better goer, than Clavileno. For my part, I cannot imagine what could induce Malambruno to part with so swift and gentle a horse, and to burn him too in such a manner."
Don Quixote repeated his thanks to the duchess, and after supper retired to his chamber, where, conformably to his determination, he remained alone. He shut the door of his chamber after him, and undressed himself by the light of two wax-candles. As he was putting off his hose, there fell—oh, misfortune, unworthy of such a personage—about four-and-twenty stitches of one of his stockings, which made it look like a lattice-window. The good knight was extremely afflicted, and would have given an ounce of silver for a drachm of green silk; green silk, I say, because his stockings were green. However, for his consolation, he bethought himself that Sancho had left him a pair of light boots, which he designed to put on the next day.
He laid himself down with a pensive, heavy mind; the thought of Sancho's absence, and the irreparable damage that his stocking had received, made him uneasy; he would have darned it, though it had been with silk of another colour—one of the greatesttokens of want a poor gentleman can shew. At last he put out the lights, but it was so hot that he could not compose himself to rest. Getting up, therefore, he opened a little shutter of a barred window that looked into a fine garden, and was presently sensible that some people were walking and talking there. He listened, and as they raised their voices, he easily overheard their discourse.
"No more, dear Emerenia," said one to the other. "Do not press me to sing; you know that from the first moment this stranger came to the castle, and my unhappy eyes gazed on him, I have been too conversant with tears and sorrow to sing or relish songs! Alas, all music jars when the soul is out of tune. Besides, you know the least thing wakens my lady, and I would not for the world she should find us here. But, grant she might not wake; what will my singing signify, if this new Æneas, who is come to our habitation to make me wretched, should be asleep, and not hear the sound of my complaint?" "Pray, my dear Altisidora," said the other, "do not make yourself uneasy with those thoughts; for, without doubt, the duchess is fast asleep, and every body in the house but we and the master of your heart. He is certainly awake; I heard him open his window just now: then sing, my poor grieving creature, sing, and join the melting music of the lute to the soft accents of thy voice." "Alas! my dear," replied Altisidora, "it is not that which frightens me most: I would not have my song betray my thoughts, for those that do not know the mighty force of love will be apt to take me for a light and indiscreet creature; but yet, since it must be so, I will venture: better shame on the face, than sorrow in the heart." This said, she began to touch her lute so sweetly, that Don Quixote was ravished. At the same time, the infinite number of adventures of this nature, such as he had read of in his books of knight-errantry; windows, grates, gardens, serenades, courtships, meetings, parleys, &c., crowded into his imagination, and he presently fancied that one of the duchess's damsels was in love with him, and struggling to conceal her passion. He began to be apprehensive of the danger to which his fidelity was exposed, but yet firmly determined to withstand the powerful allurement; and so recommending himself, with a great deal of fervency, to his Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, he resolved to hear the music; and, to let the serenading ladies know he was awake, he feigned a kind of sneeze, which did not a little please them, for it was the only thing they wanted to be assured their jest was not lost. With that, Altisidora, having tuned her lute afresh, after a flourish began her serenade; which, when Don Quixote had heard to an end, he thus began his expostulation: "Why," said he, with a sigh heaved from the bottom of his heart, "why must I be so unhappy a knight, that no damsel can gaze on me without falling in love! Why must the peerless Dulcinea be so unfortunate?Queens, why do you envy her? Empresses, why do you persecute her? Damsels of fifteen, why do you attempt to deprive her of her right? Leave, oh, leave the unfortunate fair! Let her triumph, glory, and rejoice, in the quiet possession of the heart which love has allotted her, and the absolute sway which she bears over my yielding soul. Away, unwelcome crowd of loving impertinents; Dulcinea alone can soften my temper, and mould me as she pleases. For her I am all sweetness; for you I am bitterness itself. There is to me no beauty, no prudence, no modesty, no gaiety, no nobility among your sex, but in Dulcinea alone. Let Altisidora weep or sing, still I am Dulcinea's, and hers alone, dead or alive, dutiful, and unchanged, in spite of all the necromantic powers in the world." This said, he hastily shut the window, and flung himself into his bed with as high an indignation as if he had received some great affront. There let us leave him a while, seeing that the great Sancho Panza calls upon us to attend him on the commencement of his famous government.
How the great Sancho Panza took possession of his island, and in what manner he began to govern.
Afterhaving travelled a certain distance, Governor Sancho, with his attendants, came to a town that had about a thousand inhabitants, and was one of the best in the duke's territories. They gave him to understand that the name of the place was the island of Barataria. As soon as he came to the gates, the magistrates came out to receive him, the bells rung, and all the people gave general demonstrations of joy. They then delivered him the keys of the gates, and received him as perpetual governor of the island of Barataria.
Next they carried him to the court of justice; where, when they had placed him in his seat, "My lord governor," said the duke's steward to him, "it is an ancient custom here, that he who takes possession of this famous island must answer some difficult and intricate question that is propounded to him; and, by the return he makes, the people feel the pulse of his understanding, and, by an estimate of his abilities, judge whether they ought to rejoice or to be sorry for his coming."
All the while the steward was speaking, Sancho was staring on an inscription in large characters on the wall over against his seat; and, as he could not read, he asked what was the meaning of that which he saw painted there upon the wall. "Sir," said they, "it is an account of the day when your lordship took possession of this island; and the inscription runs thus: 'This daythe Lord Don Sancho Panza took possession of this island, which may he long enjoy.'" "And who is he," asked Sancho, "whom they call Don Sancho Panza?" "Your lordship," answered the steward; "for we know of no other Panza in this island but yourself, who now sits in this chair." "Well, friend," said Sancho, "pray take notice that Don does not belong to me, nor was it borne by any of my family before me. Plain Sancho Panza is my name; my father was called Sancho, my grandfather Sancho, and all of us have been Panzas, without any Don or Donna added to our name. Now do I already guess your Dons are as thick as stones in this island. But it is enough that Heaven knows my meaning: if my government happens to last but four days to an end, it shall go hard but I will clear the island of those swarms of Dons, that must needs be as troublesome as so many gnats. Come, now for your question, good Mr. Steward; and I will answer it as well as I can, whether the town be sorry or pleased."
At this instant, two men came into the court, the one dressed like a country fellow, the other looked like a tailor, with a pair of shears in his hand. "If it please you, my lord," cried the tailor, "this honest man came to my shop yesterday; for, saving your presence, I am a tailor, and free of my company too; so, my lord, he shewed me a piece of cloth: 'Sir,' quoth he, 'is there enough of this to make a cap?' Whereupon I measured the stuff, and answered, Yes. Now, as I imagined, do you see, he could not but imagine (and perhaps he imagined right enough), that I had a mind to cabbage some of his cloth—judging hard of us honest tailors. 'Prithee,' quoth he, 'look there be not enough for two caps?' Now I smelt him out, and told him there was. Whereupon the old knave, going on to the same tune, bid me look again, and see whether it would not make three; and at last if it would not make five? I was resolved to humour my customer, and said it might; so we struck a bargain. Just now the man is come for his caps, which I gave him; but he refuses to pay me for my work; and now he will have me give him his cloth again, or pay him for it." "Is this true, honest man?" said Sancho to the farmer. "Yes, if it please you," answered the fellow; "but pray let him shew the five caps he has made me." "With all my heart," cried the tailor; and with that, pulling his hand from under his cloak, he held up five little tiny caps, hanging upon his four fingers and thumb, as upon so many pins. "There," quoth he, "you see the five caps this good gaffer asks for; and, on my conscience, I have not wronged him of the least shred of his cloth; and let any workman be judge." The sight of the caps, and the oddness of the cause, set the whole court a-laughing. Only Sancho sat gravely considering a while; and then, "Methinks," said he, "this suit may be decided without any more ado, with a great deal of equity; and therefore, thejudgment of the court is, that the tailor shall lose his making, and the countryman his cloth, and that the caps be given to the poor prisoners; and so let there be an end of the business."
If this sentence provoked the laughter of the whole court, the next no less raised their admiration. For after the governor's order was executed, two old men appeared before him; one of them with a large cane in his hand, which he used as a staff. "My lord," said the other, who had none, "some time ago, I lent this man ten gold crowns, to do him a kindness, which money he was to repay me on demand. I did not ask him for it again for a good while, lest it should prove inconvenient. However, perceiving that he took no care to pay me, I have asked him for my due; nay, I have been forced to dun him hard for it. But still, he did not only refuse to pay me again, but denied he owed me any thing, and said that 'if I lent him so much money, he certainly returned it.' Now, because I have no witnesses of the loan, nor he of the pretended payment, I beseech your lordship to put him to his oath; and if he will swear he has paid me, I will freely forgive him before God and the world." "What say you to this, old gentleman with the staff?" asked Sancho. "Sir," answered the old man, "I own he lent me the gold; and since he requires my oath, I beg you will be pleased to hold down your rod of justice, that I may swear upon it how I have honestly and truly returned him his money." Thereupon the governor held down his rod; and in the mean time the defendant gave his cane to the plaintiff to hold, as if it hindered him while he was to make a cross and swear over the judge's rod. This done, he declared it was true the other had lent him ten crowns, but that he had really returned him the same sum into his own hands. The great governor, hearing this, asked the creditor what he had to reply. He made answer that, since his adversary had sworn it, he was satisfied; for he believed him to be a better Christian than offer to forswear himself, and that perhaps he had forgotten he had been repaid. Then the defendant took his cane again, and having made a low obeisance to the judge, was immediately leaving the court; which when Sancho perceived, reflecting on the passage of the cane, and admiring the creditor's patience, after he had thought a while he suddenly ordered the old man with the staff to be called back. "Honest man," said Sancho, "let me look at that cane a little; I have a use for it." "With all my heart, sir," answered the other; "here it is;" and with that he gave it him. Sancho took it, and giving it to the other old man, "There," said he, "go your ways, and Heaven be with you, for now you are paid." "How so, my lord?" cried the old man; "do you judge this cane to be worth ten gold crowns?" "Certainly," said the governor, "or else I am the greatest dunce in the world. And now you shall see whether I have not a head-piece fit to govern a whole kingdom, upon a shift." This said,he ordered the cane to be broken in open court; which was no sooner done, than out dropped the ten crowns. All the spectators were amazed, and began to look on their governor as a second Solomon. They asked him how he could conjecture that the ten crowns were in the cane. He told them that he had observed how the defendant gave it to the plaintiff to hold while he took his oath, and then swore he had truly returned him the money into his own hands, after which he took his cane again from the plaintiff: this considered, it came into his head that the money was lodged within the reed. From whence may be learned, that though sometimes those that govern are destitute of sense, yet it often pleases God to direct them in their judgment. The two old men went away, the one to his satisfaction, the other with shame and disgrace; and the beholders were astonished; insomuch that the person who was commissioned to register Sancho's words and actions, and observe his behaviour, was not able to determine whether he should not give him the character of a wise man, instead of that of a fool, which he had been thought to deserve.
And now, let us leave honest Sancho here for a while for his master, who requires our attendance, Altisidora's serenade having strangely discomposed his mind.
Of a dreadful alarm which Don Quixote experienced.
Weleft the great Don Quixote profoundly buried in the thoughts into which Altisidora's serenade had plunged him. At the return of light, our knight, more early than the sun, forsook his downy bed, put on his chamois apparel, and, drawing on his walking-boots, concealed in one of them the disaster of his hose. He threw his scarlet cloak over his shoulder, and clapped on his valiant head his cap of green velvet edged with silver lace. Over his right shoulder he hung his belt, the sustainer of his trusty executing sword. About his wrist he wore the rosary, which he always carried about him; and thus accoutred, with a great deal of state and majesty, he moved towards the antechamber, where the duke and duchess were ready dressed, and expecting his coming. As he went through a gallery, he met Altisidora and her companion, who waited for him in the passage; and no sooner did Altisidora espy him, than she dissembled a swooning fit, and immediately dropped into the arms of her friend. Which Don Quixote perceiving, he approached, and, turning to the damsel, "I know the meaning of all this," said he, "and whence these accidents proceed." "You know more than I do," answered the assisting damsel; "but this I am sure of, that hitherto there isnot a damsel in this house that has enjoyed her health better than Altisidora: I never knew her make the least complaint before. Pray, my Lord Don Quixote, retire; for this poor young creature will not come to herself while you are by." "Madam," answered the knight, "I beg that a lute may be left in my chamber this evening, that I may assuage this lady's grief as well as I can; for in the beginning of an affair of this kind, a speedy discovery of aversion or pre-engagement is the most effectual cure." This said, he left them, that he might not be found alone with them by those that might happen to go by. He was scarce gone when Altisidora's fit was over; and, turning, to her companion, "By all means," said she, "let him have a lute; for without doubt the knight has a mind to give us some music, and we shall have sport enough." Then they went and acquainted the duchess with their proceeding, and Don Quixote's desiring a lute; whereupon she plotted with the duke and her woman a new contrivance, to have a little harmless sport with the knight.
At eleven o'clock Don Quixote retired to his apartment, and finding a lute there, he tuned it, opened the window, and, perceiving there was somebody walking in the garden, he ran over the strings of the instrument; and having tuned it again as nicely as he could, he coughed and cleared his throat; and then, with a voice somewhat hoarse, yet not unmusical, he sang the following song, which he had composed himself that very day:
The Advice.Love, a strong designing foe,Careless hearts with ease deceives;Can thy breast resist his blow,Which your sloth unguarded leaves?If you're idle, you're destroyed,All his art on you he tries;But be watchful and employed,Straight the baffled tempter flies.Maids for modest grace admired,If they would their fortunes raise,Must in silence live retired:'Tis their virtue speaks their praise.The divine Tobosan fair,Dulcinea, claims me whole;Nothing can her image tear;'Tis one substance with my soul.Then let fortune smile or frown,Nothing shall my faith remove;Constant truth, the lover's crown,Can work miracles in love.
The Advice.Love, a strong designing foe,Careless hearts with ease deceives;Can thy breast resist his blow,Which your sloth unguarded leaves?If you're idle, you're destroyed,All his art on you he tries;But be watchful and employed,Straight the baffled tempter flies.Maids for modest grace admired,If they would their fortunes raise,Must in silence live retired:'Tis their virtue speaks their praise.The divine Tobosan fair,Dulcinea, claims me whole;Nothing can her image tear;'Tis one substance with my soul.Then let fortune smile or frown,Nothing shall my faith remove;Constant truth, the lover's crown,Can work miracles in love.
The Advice.
Love, a strong designing foe,Careless hearts with ease deceives;Can thy breast resist his blow,Which your sloth unguarded leaves?
If you're idle, you're destroyed,All his art on you he tries;But be watchful and employed,Straight the baffled tempter flies.
Maids for modest grace admired,If they would their fortunes raise,Must in silence live retired:'Tis their virtue speaks their praise.
The divine Tobosan fair,Dulcinea, claims me whole;Nothing can her image tear;'Tis one substance with my soul.
Then let fortune smile or frown,Nothing shall my faith remove;Constant truth, the lover's crown,Can work miracles in love.
No sooner had Don Quixote made an end of his song, to which the duke, duchess, Altisidora, and almost all the people in the castle listened all the while, than on a sudden, from an open gallery over the knight's window, they let down a rope, with at least a hundred little tinkling bells hanging about it. After that came down a great number of cats, poured out of a huge sack, all of them with smaller bells tied to their tails. The jangling of the bells, and the squalling of the cats, made such a dismal noise, that the very contrivers of the jest themselves were scared for the present, and Don Quixote was strangely surprised and quite dismayed. At the same time, as ill-luck would have it, two or three frighted cats leaped in through the bars of his chamber-window, and running up and down the room like so many evil spirits, one would have thought a whole legion of demons had been flying about the chamber. They put out the candles that stood lighted there, and endeavoured to get out. Meanwhile, the rope with the bigger bells about it was pulled up and down, and those who knew nothing of the contrivance were greatly surprised. At last, Don Quixote, recovering from his astonishment, drew his sword, and fenced and laid about him at the window, crying aloud, "Avaunt, ye wicked enchanters! hence, infernal scoundrels! I am Don Quixote de la Mancha, and all your cursed devices cannot work their ends against me." And then, running after the cats, he began to thrust and cut at them furiously, while they strove to get out. At last they made their escape at the window—all but one of them; who, finding himself hard put to it, flew in his face, and, laying hold on his nose with his claws and teeth, put him to such pain that the knight began to cry out as loud as he could. Thereupon, the duke and the duchess, imagining the cause of his outcry, ran to his assistance immediately; and having opened the door of his chamber with a master-key, found the poor knight struggling hard with the cat, that would not quit its hold. By the light of the candles which they had with them, they saw the unequal combat. The duke offered to interpose and take off the animal, but Don Quixote would not permit him. "Let nobody touch him," cried he; "let me alone hand to hand with this sorcerer, this necromancer; I'll make him know what it is to deal with Don Quixote de la Mancha!" But the cat, not minding his threats, growled on, and still held fast; till at length the duke got its claws unhooked, and flung him out at the window. Don Quixote's face was hideously scratched, and his nose in no very good condition. Yet nothing vexed him so much as that they had rescued out of his hands the villainous necromancer. Immediately some ointment was sent for, and Altisidora herself applied some plasters to his sores, whispering in his ear at the same time, "Cruel, hard-hearted knight," said she, "all these disasters are befallen thee as a just punishment for thy obdurate stubbornness and disdain.May thy squire Sancho forget to whip himself, that thy darling Dulcinea may never be delivered from her enchantment, at least so long as I, thy neglected adorer, live!" Don Quixote made no answer at all to this; only he heaved up a profound sigh, and then went to take his repose, after he had returned the duke and duchess thanks, not so much for their assistance against that rascally crew of jangling enchanters—for he defied them all—but for their kindness and good intent. Then the duke and duchess left him, not a little troubled at the miscarriage of their jest, which they did not think would have proved so fatal to the knight as to oblige him, as it did, to keep his chamber some days; during which time there happened to him another adventure, more pleasant than the last; which, however, cannot be now related; for the historian must return to Sancho Panza, who was very busy, and no less pleasant, in his government.
Which gives a further account of Sancho Panza's behaviour in his government.
Thehistory informs us that Sancho was conducted from the court of justice to a sumptuous palace, where, in a spacious room, he found the cloth laid, and a magnificent entertainment prepared. As soon as he entered, the wind-music played, and four pages waited on him with water for washing his hands, which he did with a great deal of gravity. The instruments ceasing, Sancho sat down at the upper end of the table; for there was no seat but there, and the cloth was only laid for one. A certain personage, who afterwards appeared to be a physician, came and stood at his elbow, with a whalebone wand in his hand. Then they took off a curious white cloth that lay over the dishes on the table, and discovered a great variety of fruit and other eatables. One that looked like a student said grace; a page put a laced cloth under Sancho's chin; and another set a dish of fruit before him. But he had hardly put one bit into his mouth before the physician touched the dish with his wand, and then it was taken away by a page in an instant. Immediately another, with meat, was put in the place; but Sancho no sooner offered to taste it than the doctor, with the wand, conjured it away as fast as the fruit. Sancho was amazed at this sudden removal, and, looking about him on the company, asked them, "Whether the dinner was only to shew off their sleight of hand." "My Lord Governor," answered the physician, "you are to eat here no otherwise than according to the use and custom of other islands where there are governors. I am a doctor of physic, my lord, and have a salaryallowed me in this island for taking charge of the governor's health, and I am more careful of it than of my own, studying night and day his constitution, that I may know what to prescribe when he falls sick. Now the chief thing I do is, to attend him always at his meals, to let him eat what I think convenient for him, and to prevent his eating what I imagine to be prejudicial to his health. Therefore I ordered the fruit to be taken away, because it is too cold and moist; and the other dish, because it is as much too hot, and overseasoned with spices, which are apt to increase thirst; and he that drinks much destroys and consumes the radical moisture, which is the fuel of life." "So, then," quoth Sancho, "this dish of roasted partridges here can do me no manner of harm." "Hold," said the physician, "the Lord Governor shall not eat of them while I live to prevent it." "Why so?" cried Sancho. "Because," answered the doctor, "our great master, Hippocrates, the north-star and luminary of physic, says, in one of his aphorisms,Omnis saturatio mala, perdicis autem pessima; that is, 'All repletion is bad, but that of partridges is worst of all.'" "If it be so," said Sancho, "let Mr. Doctor see which of all these dishes on the table will do me the most good and least harm, and let me eat of that, without having it whisked away with his wand. For, by my hopes, and the pleasures of government, as I live I am ready to die with hunger; and, not to allow me to eat my victuals (let Mr. Doctor say what he will) is the way to shorten my life, and not to lengthen it." "Very true, my lord," replied the physician; "however, I am of opinion you ought not to eat of these rabbits; nor would I have you taste that veal. Indeed, if it were neither roasted nor pickled, something might be said; but as it is, it must not be." "Well, then," said Sancho, "what think you of that huge dish yonder that smokes so? I take it to be an olla podrida; and that being a hodge-podge of so many sorts of victuals, sure I cannot but light upon something there that will be both wholesome and pleasant." "Absit," cried the doctor, "far be such an ill thought from us; no diet in the world yields worse nutriment than those mishmashes do. Simple medicines are generally allowed to be better than compounds; for, in a composition, there may happen a mistake by the unequal proportion of the ingredients; but simples are not subject to that accident. Therefore, what I would advise at present, as a fit diet for the governor for the preservation and support of his health, is a hundred of small wafers, and a few thin slices of marmalade, to strengthen his stomach and help digestion." Sancho hearing this, leaned back upon his chair, and, looking earnestly in the doctor's face, very seriously asked him what his name was, and where he had studied? "My lord," answered he, "I am called Doctor Pedro Rezio de Aguero. The name of the place where I was born is Tirteafuera, and lies between Caraquel and Almodabar del Campo, on the right hand;and I took my degree of doctor in the University of Ossuna." "Hark you," said Sancho, in a mighty chafe, "Mr. Doctor Pedro Rezio de Aguero, take yourself away! Avoid the room this moment, or assuredly I'll get me a good cudgel, and, beginning with your carcass, will so belabour and rib-roast all the physic-mongers in the island, that I will not leave therein one of the tribe,—of those, I mean, that are ignorant quacks;—for as for learned and wise physicians, I will make much of them, and honour them like so many angels. Once more, Pedro Rezio, I say, get out of my presence! Avaunt! or I will take the chair I sit upon, and comb your head with it to some purpose, and let me be called to an account about it when I give up my office; I do not care, I will clear myself by saying I did the world good service, in ridding it of a bad physician, the plague of a commonwealth. Let me eat, I say, or let them take their government again; for an office that will not afford a man his victuals is not worth two horse-beans." The physician was terrified, seeing the governor in such a heat, and would at once have slunk out of the room, had not the sound of a post-horn in the street been heard that moment; whereupon the steward, immediately looking out of the window, turned back and said there was an express come from the duke, doubtless with some despatch of importance.
Presently the messenger entered, with haste and concern in his looks, and pulling a packet out of his bosom, delivered it to the governor. Sancho gave it to the steward, and ordered him to read the direction, which was this: "To Don Sancho Panza, governor of the island of Barataria, to be delivered into his own hands, or those of his secretary." "Who is my secretary?" cried Sancho. "It is I, my lord," answered one that was standing by; "for I can write and read, and am a Biscayner." "That last qualification is enough to make thee set up for secretary to the emperor himself," said Sancho. "Open the letter, then, and see what it says." The new secretary did so, and having perused the despatch by himself, told the governor that it was a business that was to be told only in private. Sancho ordered every one to leave the room, except the steward and the carver, and then the secretary read what follows.
"I have received information, my Lord Don Sancho Panza, that some of our enemies intend to attack your island with great fury one of these nights: you ought, therefore, to be watchful, and stand upon your guard, that you may not be found unprovided. I have also had intelligence from faithful spies, that there are four men got into the town in disguise, to murder you; your abilities being regarded as a great obstacle to the enemy's designs. Look about you, take heed how you admit strangers to speak with you, and eat nothing sent you as a present. I willtake care to send you assistance, if you stand in need of it. And in every thing I rely on your prudence. From our castle, the 16th of August, at four in the morning.
"Your friend,
"The Duke."
Sancho was astonished at the news, and those that were with him were no less concerned. But at last, turning to the steward, "I will tell you," said he, "what is first to be done in this case, and that with all speed. Clap that same Doctor Rezio in a dungeon; for if any body has a mind to kill me, it must be he, and that with a lingering death, the worst of deaths, hunger-starving." "However," said the carver, "I am of opinion your honour ought not to eat any of the things that stand here before you; for they were sent in by some of the convents, and it is a common saying, 'The devil lurks behind the cross.'" "Which nobody can deny," quoth Sancho; "and therefore let me have, for the present, but a luncheon of bread, and some four pounds of raisins; there can be no poison in that; for, in short, I cannot live without eating; and, if we must be in readiness against these battles, we had need be well victualled. Meanwhile, secretary, do you send my lord duke an answer, and tell him his order shall be fulfilled in every part. Remember me kindly to my lady, and beg of her not to forget to send one on purpose with my letter and bundle to Teresa Panza, my wife; which I shall take as a special favour, and I will be mindful to serve her to the best of my power. And, when your hand is in, you may crowd in my service to my master Don Quixote de la Mancha, that he may see I am neither forgetful nor ungrateful. The rest I leave to you; put in what you will, and do your part like a good secretary and a staunch Biscayner. Now, take away here, and bring me something to eat; and then you shall see I am able to deal with all the spies, wizards, and cut-throat dogs, that dare to meddle with me and my island."
At that time a page entering the room, "My lord," said he, "there is a countryman without desires to speak with your lordship about business of great consequence." "It is a strange thing," cried Sancho, "that one must be still plagued with these men of business! Is it possible they should be such sots as not to understand this is not a time for business? Do they fancy that we governors and distributors of justice are made of iron and marble, and have no need of rest and refreshment like other creatures of flesh and blood? If my government does but last, as I shrewdly guess it will not, I will get some of these men of business laid by the heels. Well, for once, let the fellow come in; but first take heed he be not one of the spies or ruffian rogues that would murder me." "As for that," said the page, "I daresay he had no hand in the plot; poor soul, he looks as if he could not help it; there is no more harm in him, seemingly, than in a piece of good bread." "There is no need to fear," said the steward, "since we are all here by you." "But, hark you," quoth Sancho, "now Doctor Rezio is gone, might not I eat something that has some substance in it, though it were but a crust and an onion?" "At night," answered the carver, "your honour shall have no cause to complain; supper shall make amends for the want of your dinner."
Now the countryman came in, and, by his looks, seemed to be a good, harmless soul. "Which is my lord governor?" quoth he. "Who but he that sits in the chair?" answered the secretary. "I humble myself to his worship's presence," quoth the fellow; and with that, falling on his knees, begged to kiss his hand, which Sancho refused, but bid him rise, and tell him what he had to say. The countryman then got up: "My lord," said he, "I am a husbandman of Miguel Turra, a town some two leagues from Ciudad-Real." "Here is another Tirteafuera," quoth Sancho; "well, go on, friend, I know the place full well; it is not far from our town." "If it please you," said the countryman, "my business is this: I was married, by Heaven's mercy, in the face of our holy mother the church, and I have two boys that take their learning at the college; the youngest studies to become a bachelor, and the eldest to be a master of arts. I am a widower, because my wife is dead; she died, if it please you, or, to speak more truly, she was killed, as one may say, by a doctor. Now, sir, I must tell you," continued the farmer, "that that son of mine, the bachelor of arts that is to be, fell in love with a maiden of our town, Clara Perlerino by name, the daughter of Andrew Perlerino, a mighty rich farmer; and Perlerino is not the right name neither; but, because the whole generation of them is troubled with the palsy, they used to be called, from the name of that complaint, Perlaticos, but now they go by that of Perlerino; and truly it fits the young woman rarely, for she is a precious pearl for beauty, especially if you stand on her right side and view her: she looks like a flower in the fields. On the left, indeed, she does not look altogether so well; for there she wants an eye, which she lost by the small-pox, that has digged many pits somewhat deep all over her face; but those that wish her well, say that is nothing, and that those pits are so many graves to bury lovers' hearts in. I hope my lord governor will pardon me for dwelling thus on the picture, seeing it is merely out of my hearty love and affection for the girl." "Prithee, go on as long as thou wilt," said Sancho; "I am mightily taken with thy discourse; and, if I had but dined, I would not desire a better dessert." "Alas, sir, all I have said is nothing; could I set before your eyes her pretty carriage, and her shape, you would admire. But that is not to be done."
"So far so good," said Sancho; "but let us suppose you have drawn her from head to foot; what is it you would be at now? Come to the point, friend, without so many windings and turnings, and going round about the bush." "Sir," said the farmer, "I would desire your honour to do me the kindness to give me a letter of accommodation to the father of my daughter-in-law, beseeching him to be pleased to let the marriage be fulfilled, seeing we are not unlike neither in estate nor bodily concerns; for to tell you the truth, my lord governor, my son is bewitched; and having once had the ill-luck to fall into the fire, the skin of his face is shrivelled up like a piece of parchment, and his eyes are somewhat sore and full of rheum. But, when all is said, he has the temper of an angel; and were he not apt to thump and belabour himself now and then in his fits, you would take him to be a saint."
"Have you any thing else to ask, honest man?" said Sancho. "Only one thing more," quoth the farmer; "but I am somewhat afraid to speak it; yet I cannot find in my heart to let it rot within me; and, therefore, I must out with it. I would desire your worship to bestow on me some three hundred or six hundred ducats towards my bachelor's portion, only to help him to begin the world and furnish him a house; for, in short, they would live by themselves, without being subject to the impertinencies of a father-in-law." "Well," said Sancho, "see if you would have any thing else; if you would, do not let fear or bashfulness be your hindrance. Out with it, man." "No, truly," quoth the farmer; and he had scarcely spoken the words when the governor, starting up, and laying hold of the chair he sat on, "You brazen-faced impudent country booby!" cried he, "get out of my presence this moment, or I will crack your jolter-head with this chair! You vagabond, dost thou come at this time of day to ask me for six hundred ducats? Where should I have them, clod-pate? And if I had them, why should I give them thee? What care I for Miguel Turra, or all the generation of the Perlerinos? Avoid the room, I say, or I'll be as good as my word. It is not a day and a half that I have been governor, and thou wouldst have me possess six hundred ducats already!"
The steward made signs to the farmer to withdraw, and he went out accordingly hanging down his head, and to all appearance very much afraid lest the governor should make good his angry threats; for the cunning knave knew very well how to act his part. But let us leave Sancho in his angry mood; and let there be peace and quietness, while we return to Don Quixote, whom we left with his face covered over with plasters, the scratches which he had got having obliged him to no less than eight days' retirement; during which time there happened that which we promise to relate with the same punctuality and veracity with which all the particulars of this history are detailed.
What happened to Don Quixote with Donna Rodriguez; as also other passages worthy to be recorded.
Don Quixote, thus unhappily hurt, was extremely discontented and melancholy. He was some days without appearing in public; and one night, when he was thus confined to his apartment, as he lay awake reflecting on his misfortunes and Altisidora's importunities, he perceived somebody was opening his chamber-door with a key, and presently imagined that the damsel herself was coming. "No," said he, loud enough to be heard, "the greatest beauty in the universe shall never remove the dear idea of the charming fair that is engraved and stamped in the very centre of my heart, and the most secret recesses of my breast. No, thou only mistress of my soul, whether transformed into a country girl, or into one of the nymphs of the golden Tagus, that weave silk and gold in the loom; whether Merlin or Montesinos detained thee where they pleased, be where thou wilt, thou still art mine; and wherever I shall be, I must and will be thine." Just as he ended his speech, the door opened. He fixed his eyes on it, and when he expected to have seen the doleful Altisidora, he beheld a most reverend matron approaching in a white veil, so long that it covered her from head to foot. Betwixt her left-hand fingers she carried half a candle lighted, and held her right before her face to keep the blaze of the taper from her eyes, which were hidden by a huge pair of spectacles. All the way she trod very softly, and moved at a very slow pace. Don Quixote watched her motions, and observing her garb and silence, took her for some enchantress that came in that dress to practise her wicked sorceries upon him, and began to make the sign of the cross as fast as he could. The vision advanced all the while; and being got to the middle of the chamber, lifted up its eyes and saw Don Quixote thus making a thousand crosses on his breast. But if he was astonished at the sight of such a figure, she was no less affrighted at his; so that, as soon as she spied him, so lank, bepatched and muffled up, "Bless me," cried she, "what is this!" With the sudden fright she dropped the candle, and now, being in the dark, as she was running out, the length of her dress made her stumble, and down she fell in the middle of the chamber. Don Quixote at the same time was in great anxiety. "Phantom," cried he, "or whatsoever thou art, I conjure thee to tell me who thou art, and what thou requirest of me?" The old woman, hearing herself thus conjured, judged Don Quixote's fears by her own, and therefore, with a low and doleful voice, "My Lord Don Quixote," said she, "if you are he, I am neither a phantom nor a ghost, but Donna Rodriguez, my lady duchess's matron of honour,who come to you about a certain grievance of the nature of those which you use to redress." "Tell me, Donna Rodriguez," said Don Quixote, "are not you come to manage some love intrigue? If you are, take it from me, you will lose your labour: it is all in vain, thanks to the peerless beauty of my Lady Dulcinea del Toboso. In a word, madam, provided you come not on some such embassy, you may go light your candle and return, and we will talk of any thing you please." "I have come with no such purpose," said the duenna. "But stay a little, I will go light my candle, and then I will tell you my misfortunes; for it is you that sets to right every thing in the world." This said, away she went, without stopping for an answer.
Donna Rodriguez, having returned, sat down in a chair at some distance, without taking off her spectacles, or setting down the candle. After they had both remained some minutes in silence, the first that broke it was the knight. "Now, madam," said he, "you may freely unburden your heart, sure of attention to your complaints and assistance in your distress." "I believe as much," said the matron, "and promised myself no less charitable an answer from a person of so graceful and pleasing a presence. The case, then, is, noble sir, that though you see me sitting in this chair, in the middle of Arragon, in the habit of an insignificant unhappy duenna, I am of Asturias de Oviedo, and one of the best families in that province. But my hard fortune, and the neglect of my parents, brought me to Madrid, where, because they could do no better, they placed me with a court lady to be her chambermaid. And, though I say it, for all manner of plain work I was never outdone by any one in all my life. My father and mother left me at service, and returned home; and some few years after they both died, and went to heaven, I hope; for they were very good and religious Catholics. Then was I left an orphan, and wholly reduced to the sorrowful condition of such court-servants, wretched wages, and a slender allowance. About the same time the gentleman-usher fell in love with me before I dreamt of any such thing. He was somewhat stricken in years, had a fine beard, was a personable man, and, what is more, as good a gentleman as the king; for he was of the mountains. We did not carry matters so close but it came to my lady's ear; and so, without more ado, she caused us to be married in the face of our holy mother the Catholic church, from which marriage sprung a daughter, who made an end of my good fortune, if I had any. When she came to be sixteen years of age, who should happen to fall in love with her but a rich farmer's son, that lives in one of my lord duke's villages not far off; he courted her, gained her consent, and was under promise of marriage to her; but he now refuses to make his word good. The duke is no stranger to the business, for I have made complaint to him about it many and many times, and begged of him to enjoin the young man to wed my daughter; but he turnshis deaf ear to me, and cannot endure I should speak to him of it, because the young knave's father is rich, and lends the duke money, and is bound for him upon all occasions, so that he would by no means disoblige him.
"Therefore, sir, I apply myself to your worship, and beseech you to see my daughter righted, either by entreaties or by force, seeing every body says you were sent into the world to redress grievances and assist those in adversity. Be pleased to cast an eye of pity on my daughter's orphan state, her beauty, her youth, and all her other good parts; for, on my conscience, of all the damsels my lady has, there is not one can come up to her by a mile; no, not she that is cried up as the finest of them all, whom they call Altisidora: I am sure she is not to be named the same day; for, let me tell you, sir, all is not gold that glisters. This same Altisidora, after all, is a hoity-toity, that has more vanity than beauty, and less modesty than confidence."
Scarce had this passed, when the chamber-door flew open, which so startled Donna Rodriguez, that she let fall her candle, and the room remained as dark as a wolf's mouth, as the saying is; and presently the poor duenna felt somebody hold her by the throat, and squeeze it so hard, that it was not in her power to cry out; and another beat her so unmercifully that it would have moved any one but those that did it to pity. Don Quixote was not without compassion, yet he lay silent, not knowing what the meaning of this bustle might be, and fearing lest the tempest that poured on the poor matron might also light upon himself; and not without reason; for indeed, after the mute executioners had well beat the old gentlewoman (who durst not cry out), they came to Don Quixote, and pinched him so hard and so long, that in his own defence he could not forbear laying about him with his fists as well as he could, till at last, after the scuffle had lasted about half an hour, the invisible phantoms vanished. Donna Rodriguez, lamenting her hard fortune, left the room without speaking a word to the knight. As for him, he remained where he was, sadly pinched and tired, and very moody and thoughtful, not knowing who this wicked enchanter could be that had used him in that manner. But now let us leave him, and return to Sancho Panza, who calls upon us, as the order of our history requires.