BOOK III.

CHAP. VI. IN WHICH IS RECOUNTED THE MISFORTUNE OF THE AFFLICTED DUENNA.

In the rear of those melancholy musicians, about a dozen duennas, divided into two files, began to enter the garden, clad in loose mourning-gowns, seemingly of milled stuff, with white veils of fine muslin, so long that nothing but the borders of the gowns were seen. After these came the Countess Trifaldi, led by her Squire Trifaldin of the Snowy Beard, and cloathed in a robe of the finest black serge, which, had it been napped, would have displayed grains as large as the best Martos garavances[178]. The tail or skirt, or whatsoever it is called, was divided into three parts, supported by three pages, who were likewise in mourning, making a remarkable mathematical figure, with the three acute angles formed by the three divisions, a circumstance from which all who saw this divided train, concluded that from hence she was called the Countess of Trifaldi, as if we should say, the Countess of Three Skirts: and this is what Benengeli affirms for truth: observing, that her proper appellation was, the Countess de Wolf, because her country produced a great number of those animals; and if it had been famous for foxes, she would have been called, my Lady Fox; for it is the custom in those countries, for people of fashion to take their denomination from the thing or things with which their estates chiefly abound; but this countess, in order to favour the fashion of her train, laid aside the name of Wolf, and assumed that of Trifaldi.

The twelve duennas and their lady advanced at a procession-pace, their faces covered with white veils, though not transparent like that of the Squire Trifaldin; on the contrary, they were so close that nothing appeared through them. When the whole duennian squadron appeared, the duke and duchess, Don Quixote, and all those who beheld the procession, stood up; and the twelve duennas halting, made a lane through which the afflicted lady advanced, without quitting the hand of Trifaldin, while their graces and Don Quixote went forwards about a dozen steps to receive her: then she kneeled upon the ground, and with a voice that was coarse and rough, rather than smooth and delicate, pronounced this address: ‘I beg your graces will be pleased to wave all this courtesy to your humble valets—I mean, your handmaid[179]—Indeed, I am so overwhelmed with affliction, that I can hardly return a rational answer; for my strange and unheard-of misfortune hath hurried away my understanding, I know not whither, though it must be at a great distance, because the more I seek, the farther I am from finding it.’—‘He must be deprived of it all together, my Lady Countess,’ answered the duke, ‘who could not discover your worth from the appearance of your person, which, without farther enquiry, is deserving of the whole cream of courtesy, and the very essence of polite ceremony.’

So saying, he presented his hand, and raising her up, seated her in a chair close by the duchess, who likewise received her with great respect. Don Quixote was silent, and Sancho ready to burst with curiosity to see the faces of the Countess Trifaldi and some of her duennas; but he could not possibly gratify his desire, until they unveiled themselves of their own free will and motion. Every body was hushed, expecting who would put an end to the general silence, which the afflicted countess broke in these words: ‘Confident I am, O powerful lord, most beautiful lady, and most sagacious bystanders, that my most wretchedness will find a reception equally placid, generous, and dolorous, within your valorous bosoms; for such it is, as were enough to soften marble, melt the diamond, and mollify the steel of the most obdurate heart; but before it appears in the parade of your hearing, not to say your ears, I would I were certified whether or not the perfectionatissimo Knight Don Quixote de La Manchissima, and his Squirissimo Panza, are in this groupe, circle, or assembly?’ Before any other person could reply, ‘Panza,’ cried Sancho, ‘is here, and likewise Don Quixotissimo; and therefore, most dolorous duennissima, you may say what you think properissimo; for we are all ready and promptissimos to be your servantissimos.’ Then Don Quixote rising and addressing himself to the afflicted duenna, ‘If your misfortunes, distressed lady,’ said he, ‘can derive any remedy or redress from the valour or strength of any knight-errant, here are mine, which, though feeble and defective, shall be wholly exerted in your behalf. I am Don Quixote de La Mancha, whose office it is to assist the necessitous of all degrees: and this being the case, as it really is, you have no occasion, Madam, to bespeak benevolence, and seek after preambles: but only to rehearse your misfortunes plainly and without circumlocution, and they shall be heard by those who, though perhaps unable to redress, will at least condole them.’

The afflicted duenna, hearing this declaration, attempted to throw herself at the feet of Don Quixote; nay, even executed the attempt, and struggling to embrace them, exclaimed, ‘O invincible knight, I prostrate myself before these feet and legs, which are the bases and supporters of knight-errantry; suffer me to kiss these feet, on whose footsteps the cure of my misfortune solely depends. O valiant errant! whose real exploits outstrip and obscure the fabulous feats of all the Amadises, Belianises, and Esplandians——’

Then turning from the knight, and seizing Sancho by the hand, ‘And O!’ said she, ‘thou loyallest squire that ever served knight-errant, in the past or present age, whose virtue exceeds in length the beard of this my domestick Trifaldin, well mayest thou boast that, in attending the great Don Quixote, thou dost attend in epitome, the whole tribe of knights that ever handled arms on this terrestrial ball; I conjure thee, by thy own most faithful benevolence, to be my intercessor with thy master, that he may instantly favour me, the most humble and unfortunate countess that ever was born.’

To this address Sancho replied, ‘Whether my virtue, my lady, be as long and broad as your squire’s beard, is of very little signification; so that my soul be bearded and whiskered when it leaves this life, which is the main point, I care little or nothing for beards here below. But, without all this coaxing and begging, I will desire my master, who, I believe, has a respect for me, especially now that I am become necessary in a certain affair, to favour and assist your ladyship to the utmost of his power: your ladyship may therefore unpack, and recount your griefs, that all of us may understand the nature of your misfortune.’

The duke and duchess were ready to burst with laughing at this dialogue; for they knew the drift of the adventure, and were extremely well pleased with the acuteness and dissimulation of the Countess Trifaldi, who seating herself again, began her story in these words:

‘Of the famous kingdom of Candaya, situated between the great Trapobana and the South Sea, two leagues beyond Cape Comorin, Donna Maguncia was queen, as widow of King Archipiela, her lord and husband, in which marriage they begat and procreated the Infanta Antonomasia, heiress of the crown, which said Infanta Antonomasia was bred and brought up under my care and instruction; for I was her mother’s most ancient and principal duenna. And it came to pass, in process of time, that the young Antonomasia attained the age of fourteen, with such perfection and beauty as nature could not exceed. Nay, we may even say that discretion itself was but a girl, compared to her, who was equally discreet and beautiful, and surely she was the most beautiful creature upon earth, and is so still, if the invidious fates and hard-hearted sisters have not cut short the yarn of her life: but surely they have not, for Heaven would not permit such mischief to be done on earth, as to tear the green cluster from the most beautiful vine that ever soil produced. Of this beauty, which my coarse tongue can never extol, an infinite number of noblemen, natives as well as strangers, became enamoured. Among these, a private knight belonging to the court had the presumption to raise his thoughts to the heaven of such perfection, confiding in his youth, his gallantry, his various talents and accomplishments, and the facility and felicity of his wit; for, I must tell your graces, if you are not offended at the subject, that he touched the guittar so nicely as to make it speak; besides, he was a poet, a great dancer, and could make bird cages so curiously, that he might have earned his bread by that employment, had he been reduced to want. Such a number of natural gifts and qualifications was enough to overthrow a mountain, much more a delicate young maiden; but all his gaiety and gallantry, his gifts and graces, would have availed little or nothing against the fortress of my charge, if the treacherous ruffian had not practiced means to reduce me first. The base robber and lewd vagabond began by cultivating my good-will, and corrupting my taste, that, like a disloyal governor, I might deliver up the keys of the fort which I guarded. In a word, he flattered my understanding, and obtained my consent, by presenting me with some jewels and trinkets; but what chiefly contributed to lay me on my back, were some couplets which I heard him sing one night while I stood at a rail that looked into an ally where he was, and which, to the best of my remembrance, were to this effect—

‘“A thousand shafts from my sweet foe Are launch’d unerring to my heart; Yet must I not reveal the smart, And silence aggravates my woe!”

‘I thought the turn of the rhime was as smooth as pearls, and his voice as sweet as sugar-candy; and, since that time, seeing the mischief that hath befallen me, through these and other such verses, I have often thought, that wise and well-regulated commonwealths ought to expel the poets, according to the advice of Plato; at least your lascivious writers who compose couplets, not like those of the Marquis of Mantua, that entertain and draw tears from women and children; but your pointed conceits, which, like agreeable thorns, prick, as it were, the very soul, and wound like lightning, leaving the garment whole and untouched. Another time he sung the following stanza—

‘“Come, gentle death, so soft and sly, That thy approach I may not see; Lest I rejoice to such degree, That I shall not have pow’r to die.”

‘And other tags and couplets of the same kidney; which, when written, confound, and when chanted, inchant; for when they condescend to compose a sort of verse in fashion at that time in Candaya, called roundelays, they produce a kind of palpitation in the soul, a titillation of good humour, an agitation in the nerves, and finally, a tremulous motion, like that of quicksilver, in all the senses. Therefore, I repeat it to this honourable company, that such dangerous rhymers ought to be banished to the isle of lizards: yet, they are not so much to blame, as the simple wretches who applaud, and the boobies who believe them. If I had adhered to the duty of a good duenna, I should not have been moved by his serenading concerts, nor believed the truth of these expressions—“In death I live; in frost I burn; in fire I shiver; in despair I hope; though I depart I still remain;” and other impossibilities of the same strain, with which their works abound. When they promise the phœnix of Arabia, the crown of Ariadne, the locks of Apollo, the pearls of the South Sea, the gold of Tyber, and the balsams of Pancaya, they give the greatest latitude to their pens; for it costs them but a small matter to promise what they have neither inclination nor ability to perform.—But, woe is me! ah, wretched creature! whither am I straying? What madness or despair thus hurries and prompts me to rehearse the faults of other people! me, who have so much to say of my own infirmities. Woe is me again, unhappy woman! Not by his verses, but my own simplicity, was I vanquished: it was not his musick that softened me; but my own levity, inadvertency, and ignorance, opened the way, and cleared the path, for the passage of Don Clavijo, which is the name of the said knight; and therefore, I being the go-between, he was once and often admitted into the chamber of the (by me, and not by him) misled Antonomasia, under the title of her lawful spouse; for, sinner as I am, without being her husband, he should not have come near enough to touch the sole of her slipper. No, no, marriage must go before in every business of that kind, where I am concerned! the only misfortune in this affair, was the inequality between Clavijo, who was but a private knight, and the Infanta Antonomasia, who, as I have already said, was heiress of the kingdom. For some time, the plot was covered and concealed in the sagacity of my circumspection, until I perceived a small protuberance daily increasing in the belly of my Antonomasia, whose fears obliged us to lay our three heads together; and the result of our consultation was, that before the misfortune should come to light, Clavijo should demand Antonomasia in marriage, before the vicar-general, by virtue of a contract signed by the infanta, which was indited by my ingenuity, in such strength of terms as Samson himself could not break. The scheme was accordingly executed; the vicar perused the contract, and confessed the princess, who owned the whole affair, and was committed to the care of a very honourable alguazil of the court.’

Here Sancho interposing, ‘So then,’ said he, ‘there are alguazils of the court, poets and roundelays in Candaya as well as in Spain? I swear, I think the world is every where the same! but I beg your ladyship, Madam Trifaldi, would dispatch; for it grows late, and I die with impatience to know the end of this long-winded story.’—‘I will comply with your request,’ answered the countess.

Footnote 178:

A kind of pea that grows at Martos, a town in the province of Andalusia.

Footnote 179:

This blunder is much more natural in the Spanish _criado_ for _criada_; but, as in the English language, the gender is not distinguished by the termination, I have been obliged to substitute the words varlet and handmaid. Varlets were the servants of yeomen, though formerly squires were known by that appellation.

CHAP. VII. IN WHICH THE LADY TRIFALDI PROCEEDS WITH HER MEMORABLE AND STUPENDOUS STORY.

Every word that Sancho uttered gave as much pleasure to the duchess as pain to Don Quixote; who having imposed silence on the squire, the afflicted duenna thus proceeded: ‘At length, after innumerable questions and replies, as the infanta continued still in her story without variation, the vicar pronounced sentence in favour of Don Clavijo, whom he declared her lawful husband; a circumstance that so deeply affected Queen Maguncia, mother to the Infanta Antonomasia, that we buried her in three days.’—‘Not before she was dead, I hope,’ said Sancho. ‘No, certainly,’ replied Trifaldin; ‘for in Candaya, people do nor bury the living, but the dead.’—‘And yet, Signior Squire,’ said Sancho, ‘we have seen a person in a swoon buried for dead: and in my opinion, Queen Maguncia ought to have swooned rather than died; for while there is life there is hope, and the infanta’s slip was not so great as to oblige her to take on so much. Had the young lady buckled with her own page, or any other servant in the family, as I have heard many others have done, the mischief would not have been easily repaired; but to marry such a genteel, accomplished knight, as the countess hath described——verily, verily, although it was indiscreet, the indiscretion was not so great as people may imagine; for, according to the maxims of my master, who is here present, and will not suffer me to tell a lye, as learned men are created bishops, so may knights, especially knights-errant, be created kings and emperors.’—‘Thou art in the right, Sancho,’ said Don Quixote, ‘for a knight-errant, with two fingers-breadth of good fortune, is the very next in promotion to the greatest lord in the universe.—But, pray, afflicted lady, proceed; for I guess the bitter part of this hitherto agreeable story is still to come.’—‘How! the bitter part to come?’ replied the countess; ‘aye, and so bitter, that in comparison with it, gall and wormwood are sweet and savoury.

‘Well, then, the queen being really dead, and not in a swoon, was buried; but scarce was she covered with the mould, and scarce had we pronounced the long and last farewel, when, _Quis talia fando, temperet a lacrymis?_ all of a sudden, above the tomb, appeared upon a wooden horse the giant Malambruno, Maguncia’s first cousin, who, exclusive of his cruel disposition, was an inchanter, and by his diabolical art, in order to revenge his relation’s death, and chastise the presumption of Don Clavijo, together with the folly of Antonomasia, fixed them both inchanted on Maguncia’s tomb, after having converted her into a monkey of brass, and him into a frightful crocodile of some unknown substance; between them is a plate of metal, displaying an inscription in the Syrian language, which being translated into the Candayan, and afterwards into the Castilian tongue, contains this sentence: “These two presumptuous lovers will not recover their pristine form, until the valorous Manchegan shall engage with me in single combat; for his stupendous valour alone, the fates have reserved this unseen adventure.” This metamorphosis being effected, he unsheathed a vast unmeasurable scymitar, and twisting his left hand in my hair, threatened to slit my windpipe, and slice off my head. I was confounded, my voice stuck in my throat, and I remained in an agony of fear: nevertheless, I made one effort, and in a faultering accent and plaintive tone, uttered such a pathetick remonstrance as induced him to suspend the execution of his rigorous revenge. In fine, he ordered all the duennas of the palace (there they are) to be brought into his presence, when, after having exaggerated our fault, reviled the disposition of duennas, their wicked schemes and contrivances, and accused them all of the crime of which I alone was guilty, he said he would not punish us with instant death, but with a more tedious penalty, by which we should suffer a civil and continued death. He had no sooner done speaking, than that very moment and instant, we all felt the pores of our faces open, and the whole surface tingle as if pricked with the points of needles; then clapping our hands on the part, every one found her visage in the condition which you shall now behold.’

So saying, the afflicted duenna and her companions, lifting up their veils, disclosed so many faces overgrown with huge beards, red, black, white, and party-coloured; at sight of which, the duke and duchess were amazed, Don Quixote and Sancho confounded, and all present overwhelmed with astonishment; as for the countess, she pursued her story in these words.

‘In this manner were we punished by the felonious and ill-designing Malambruno, who covered the smoothness and delicacy of our faces with the roughness of these bristles; and would to Heaven he had rather struck off our heads with his unmeasurable scymitar, than obscured the light of our countenances with this frightful bush; for if this honourable company will but consider, and in speaking what I am now going to say, I wish I could turn my eyes into fountains; but the consideration of our misfortune, and the oceans they have already rained, have drained them as dry as beards of corn; and, therefore, I must speak without tears: I say then, whither can a duenna go with a beard upon her chin? What father or mother will condole her disgrace? or who will give her the least assistance? for if, when her face is smoothed and martyred by a thousand cosmetick slops and washes, she can scarce find one who will favour her with affection, what must she do when her face becomes a perfect coppice of brushwood? O ye wretched duennas! my companions dear! in an unlucky minute did we see the light, and in an hapless hour were we engendered by our fathers!’

So saying, she pretended to faint away.

CHAP. VIII. OF CIRCUMSTANCES APPERTAINING AND RELATING TO THIS ADVENTURE AND MEMORABLE STORY.

Verily, and in good truth! all those who take pleasure in reading such histories, ought to manifest their gratitude to its first author Cid Hamet, for his curiosity in recounting the most trivial incident, without neglecting to bring to light the least circumstance, how minute soever it may be. He describes the thought, discloses the fancy, answers the silent, explains doubts, discusses arguments, and finally displays the very atoms of the most curious disposition. O celebrated author! O happy Don Quixote! O renowned Dulcinea! O facetious Sancho Panza! may you flourish conjunctly and severally to the end of time, for the entertainment and pastime of mankind in general!

The history relates, that Sancho seeing the Afflicted faint away, ‘Now, by the faith of man!’ cried he, ‘and by the pedigree of all the Panzas my forefathers! never did I hear or see, nor did my master recount, or indeed conceive, such an adventure as this!—A legion of devils confound thee for a giant and inchanter, accursed Malambruno! couldst thou find no other method to punish these sinners, but by clapping beards to them? Would it not have been better, at least it would have been more for their advantage, to cut off half their noses, even though they should snuffle in their speech, than to encumber them with beards? I’d lay a wager, too, that they have not wherewithal to pay a barber.’—‘What you say is very true,’ replied one of the dozen; ‘we have not wherewithal to be trimmed, and therefore some of us, by way of œconomy, make use of sticking plaister, which being applied to our faces, and plucked off with a jerk, leave us as sleek and smooth as the bottom of a marble mortar; for, although there are women in Candaya who go from house to house, taking of the hair, arching the eyebrows, and composing slipslops for the use of the fair-sex, we who belonged to her ladyship would never admit them into the family, because, for the most part, they are persons who having ceased to be principals, exercise the occupation of procuresses; and therefore, if we are not redressed by Signior Don Quixote, we must e’en carry our beards to the grave.’—‘If I do not redress your whiskers,’ cried the knight, ‘I will leave mine among the Moors!’

Here the Countess Trifaldi recovering, ‘Valiant knight,’ said she, ‘the tingling of that promise reached mine ears while I lay in a swoon, and hath been the cause of my recovering and retrieving the use of all my senses; therefore, renowned errant, and invincible knight, I again entreat you, to put your gracious promise in execution.’—‘In me there shall be no delay,’ replied Don Quixote: ‘consider then, my lady, and tell me what I am to do; my mind is perfectly disposed for your service.’—‘The case is this, then,’ answered the afflicted duenna: ‘from hence to the kingdom of Candaya, if you go by land, you must travel five thousand leagues, it may be one or two more or less; but if you go through the air, in a right line, you measure no more than three thousand two hundred and twenty-seven. You must likewise know, Malambruno told me, that whenever fortune should furnish me with our deliverer, he would send him a steed that should be much better and less vicious than any of your return post-horses, as being the very individual wooden-horse upon which the valiant Peter carried off the fair Magalona: he is governed by a peg in his forehead, that serves instead of a bridle; and he flies so swiftly through the air, that one would think he was transported by all the devils in hell. This steed, according to ancient tradition, was contrived by the Sage Merlin, and he lent him to his friend Peter, who, by means of such conveyance, performed incredible journies, and stole, as I have observed, the fair Magalona, who sat behind him, and was transported through the air, to the astonishment of all those who gaped after her from the earth. Yet he would lend him to none but his particular favourites, or such as would pay him a handsome price; we do not know that he was ever mounted from the days of the great Peter to the present time. Malambruno, by dint of art, has got, and keeps him in his possession, making use of him in his journies, which he performs in an instant, from one part of the world to another; now here, to-morrow in France, and next day in Peru: and there is one great advantage in this horse, he neither eats nor sleeps, nor costs any thing in shoeing, and ambles through the air without wings in such a manner, that the rider may hold a cup full of water in his hand without spilling a single drop, his motion is so smooth and easy; for which reason, the fair Magalona delighted much in taking the air upon his back.’—‘As for his going smooth and easy,’ said Sancho, ‘there is my Dapple, whom (though he does not go through the air, but along the ground) I will match against all the amblers that ever the earth produced.’ All the company laughed at this observation, and the afflicted duenna proceeded; ‘Now, this horse, if Malambruno is actually disposed to put an end to our misfortune, will be herein less than half an hour after it is dark: for he told me the signal by which I should be certain of having found the knight I was in quest of, would be his sending the horse thither with all convenient dispatch.’—‘And pray,’ said Sancho, ‘how many persons will this horse carry?’—‘Two,’ replied the Afflicted; ‘one upon the saddle, and the other upon the crupper, and these are commonly the knight and the squire, when there is no damsel to be stolen.’—‘I should be glad to know, afflicted Madam,’ resumed the squire, ‘what is the name of that same horse?’—‘His name,’ answered the Afflicted, ‘is not like that of Bellerophon’s horse, which was called Pegasus; nor does it resemble that which distinguished the steed of Alexander the Great, Bucephalus; nor that of Orlando Furioso, whose appellation was Brilladoro; nor Bayete, which belonged to Reynaldo de Montalban; nor Frontino, that appertained to Rugiero; nor Bootes, nor Peritoa, the horses of the sun; nor is he called Orelia, like that steed upon which the unfortunate Rodrigo, last king of the Goths, engaged in that battle where he lost his crown and life.’—‘I will lay a wager,’ cried Sancho, ‘that as he is not distinguished by any of those famous names of horses so well known, so neither have they given him the name of my master’s horse Rozinante; a name which, in propriety, exceeds all those that have been named.’—‘Very true,’ replied the bearded countess; ‘nevertheless, it fits him very well; for he is called Clavileno Aligero[180], an appellation that suits exactly with his wooden substance, the peg in his forehead, and the swiftness with which he travels; so that, for his name, he may be brought in competition even with the famous Rozinante.’—‘The name pleases me well enough,’ said Sancho; ‘but what sort of bridle or halter must be used in managing him?’—‘I have already told you,’ answered Trifaldi, ‘that by turning the peg, the knight who rides can make him travel just as he pleases, either mounting through the air; or else sweeping, and, as it were, brushing the surface of the earth; or lastly, sailing through the middle region, which is the course to be sought after and pursued, in all well-concerted enterprizes.’

‘I should be glad to see this same beast,’ replied the squire; ‘but to think that I will mount him, either in the saddle or in the crupper, is all the same thing as to look for pears upon an elm. A fine joke, i’faith! I can scarce keep the back of my own Dapple, though sitting upon a pannel as soft as sattin, and they would now have me get upon a crupper of board, with out any pillow or cushion. By the Lord! I have no intention to bruise myself, in order to take off the beard of any person whatsoever; let every beard be shaved according to the owner’s fancy: for my own part, I have no notion of accompanying my master in such a long and tedious journey; for surely I have no concern in the shaving of beards, whatever I may have in the disinchantment of Dulcinea.’—‘Indeed, you have, my friend,’ answered Trifaldi; ‘aye, and so much, that without your presence I believe we shall do no good.’—‘In the king’s name!’ cried Sancho, ‘what have squires to do with the adventures of their masters? What! are they to run away with all the reputation, and we to undergo all the trouble? Body o’me! would your historians but mention, that such a knight atchieved such and such an adventure, with the assistance of his Squire What-d’ye-call-um, without whom he could not possibly have finished the exploit; but, they drily relate, as how Don Paralipomenon of the Three Stars, finished the adventure of the six goblins, without even naming the squire who was present all the time, no more than if there was not such a person in the world: I therefore say again to this honourable company, that my master may go by himself, and good luck attend him; but, for my own part, I will stay where I am, and keep my Lady Duchess company; and peradventure, at his return, he may find my Lady Dulcinea’s business well forwarded; for I intend, at my idle and leisure hours, to whip myself to such a tune, that not a single hair shall stand before me.’

‘But, for all that,’ said the duchess, ‘honest Sancho, you must attend him, should there be occasion, for you will be solicited by the righteous; and surely it would be a great pity, that the faces of these gentlewomen should continue overshadowed with hair, merely for your needless apprehension.’—‘I say again, in the king’s name!’ cried Sancho, ‘if this charity should be of any benefit to release maidens or parish-children, a man might venture to undergo some trouble; but to take such pains in order to rid duennas of their beards! a plague upon the whole generation! I had rather see them all bearded from the highest to the lowest, tag, rag, and bobtail.’—‘Friend Sancho,’ said the duchess, ‘you are on bad terms with duennas, and very much infected with the opinion of that apothecary of Toledo; but, in good sooth, you are very much in the wrong: there are duennas in my house, who might serve as patterns of virtue; and here stands Donna Rodriguez, who would not suffer me to say otherwise.’—‘Your excellency may say what you please,’ answered Rodriguez; ‘but God knows the truth of all things, and good or bad, bearded or smooth, we duennas were born of our mothers, as well as other women; since, therefore, God sent us into the world, he knows for what, and in his mercy do I put my trust, and not in the beard of any person whatsoever.’

‘’Tis very well, Signora Rodriguez, Madam Trifaldi, and you ladies of her company,’ said Don Quixote; ‘Heaven, I hope, will look upon your misfortunes with propitious eyes, and Sancho will chearfully obey my orders; let Clavileno come, so as that I may once see myself engaged with Malambruno, and confident I am, that no razor can shave your ladyships with more facility than my sword should find in shaving the giant’s head from his shoulders; for though God permits the wicked to prosper, it is but for a time.’ The afflicted duenna hearing this declaration, exclaimed, ‘Now, may all the stars of the celestial regions shed their benign influence upon your worship, most valiant knight, infusing courage into your soul, and crowning your atchievements with prosperity, that you may be the shield and support of this our slighted and depressed duennian order, abominated by apothecaries, grumbled at by squires, and jeered by pages! now, ill betide the wretch, who, in the flower of her youth, would not rather take the veil than become a duenna. Unfortunate duennas that we are! for, though we may be descended in a direct male line from Hector of Troy, our ladies will not fail to throw “Thou” in our teeth, even if they thought they should be crowned for it. O thou giant Malambruno! who, though an inchanter, art always punctual in thy promises, send hither the peerless Clavileno, that our disaster may be done away; for, if our beards continue until the dog-days begin, woe be unto us!’

Trifaldi pronounced these words in such a pathetick strain, as brought tears from the eyes of all the by standers, and even filled Sancho’s to the brim; so that he resolved in his heart, to accompany his master to the utmost limits of the earth, provided his attendance should be necessary towards shearing the wool of those venerable countenances.

Footnote 180:

Or, in English, ‘Wooden Peg the Winged.’

CHAP. IX. OF CLAVILENO’S ARRIVAL—AND THE CONCLUSION OF THIS PROTRACTED ADVENTURE.

Meanwhile, night came on, and along with it the time fixed for the arrival of the famous steed Clavileno, whose delay began already to afflict Don Quixote; for he looked upon the detention of the horse, as a sign that he himself was not the knight for whom the adventure was reserved, or that Malambruno was afraid to engage with him in single combat. But, lo! all of a sudden, four savages, clad in green ivy, entered the garden, bearing on their backs a green wooden horse, which being placed on the ground, one of the number pronounced, ‘Let him who has courage mount this machine.’—‘For my own part,’ said Sancho, ‘I do not mount; for neither have I courage, nor am I a knight.’ But the savage proceeded, saying, ‘Let the squire, if he has one, occupy the crupper; and he may confide in the valiant Malambruno; for, except the sword of that giant, no other steel or malice shall offend him; and the knight has no more to do, but to turn this peg upon his neck, and he will carry them through the air to the place where Malambruno waits for their arrival; but lest the height and sublimity of the road should turn their heads, their eyes must be covered until such time as the horse shall neigh, for that will be the signal of their having performed the journey.’ This intimation being given, they left the horse, and retired to the place from whence they came, with great solemnity.

The afflicted duenna no sooner beheld the steed, than addressing herself to Don Quixote, with tears in her eyes, ‘Valiant knight,’ said she, ‘Malambruno’s promise is made good: here stands the horse, our beards are still growing, and each of us, nay, every hair upon our chins, supplicate thee to shave and shear them, since there is nothing else required but to mount with thy squire, and happily begin your journey.’—‘That will I do, my Lady Countess Trifaldi,’ replied Don Quixote, ‘with good will, and hearty inclination; nor will I delay the expedition, by spending time in furnishing myself with a cushion, or even in putting on my spurs, so impatient I am to see your ladyship and those duennas quite smooth and shaven.’—‘That will I not do,’ cried Sancho, ‘neither with hearty nor heartless inclination, nor in any manner of way; and if the shaving cannot be performed without my mounting upon the crupper, my master must look for another squire to attend him, and these ladies must find another method for smoothing their faces; for I am no wizard, to take delight in flying through the air: and pray, what would my islanders say, should they know their governor was riding upon the wind? Moreover, it being three thousand and so many more leagues from hence to Candaya, should the horse be tired, or the giant out of humour, we may spend half a dozen years in returning; and by that time, the devil an island or islander in the whole world will know my face. It is a common saying, that Delay breeds danger; and, When the heifer you receive, have a halter in your sleeve. The beards of these ladies must therefore excuse me: I know St. Peter is well at Rome; my meaning is, I find myself very well in this mansion, where I am treated with such respect, and from the master of which I expect so great a favour as that of being made a governor.’ To this remonstrance the duke replied, ‘Friend Sancho, the island I have promised is neither floating nor fugitive, but its roots are so deeply fixed in the bowels of the earth, that three good pulls will not remove or tear it away; and, as you are sensible, I know there is no kind of office of any importance that is not obtained by some sort of bribe, more or less, the present I expect for the government is, that you will attend your master, Don Quixote, in crowning and accomplishing this memorable adventure; and, whether you return upon Clavileno with that dispatch which his speed seems to promise; or, by the cruelty of adverse fortune, you come back in the habit of a pilgrim, begging on foot, from house to house, and from one inn to another; you shall, nevertheless, at your return, find your island where you left it; and your islanders actuated by the same desire of receiving you as their governor, which they have always indulged; and as for my inclination, it can never change; for, to entertain the least doubt of my sincerity, Signior Sancho, would be a notorious injury to the attachment I feel for your service.’—‘Enough, my lord,’ cried Sancho: ‘I am a poor squire, and cannot bear such a load of courtesy; let my master mount, and my eyes be covered; recommend me to God; and let me know whether, while we travel through those altitudes, I may call upon the name of the Lord, or implore the protection of his angels.’ To this interrogation, the countess replied, ‘You may recommend yourself to God, or to whom you will; for Malambruno, though an inchanter, is nevertheless a Christian, and performs his inchantments with great sagacity and caution, nor does he intermeddle in any person’s affairs.’—‘Well, then,’ cried Sancho, ‘God, and the most Holy Trinity of Gaeta, be my guide and protection!’—‘Since the memorable adventure of the fulling-mills,’ said Don Quixote, ‘I have never seen Sancho so infected with fear, as upon this occasion; and, if I were as much addicted to superstition as some people are, his pusillanimity would produce some compunction in my soul: but, come hither, Sancho; for, with the permission of that noble pair, I would speak two words with you in private.’

Then taking his squire aside into a tuft of trees, and grasping both his hands, ‘You see, brother Sancho,’ said he, ‘the long journey that awaits us; and God knows when we shall return, and what leisure or convenience our business may allow; I therefore beg thou wilt now retire to thy apartment, on pretence of fetching some necessaries for the road, and, in the twinkling of a straw, inflict upon thyself some five hundred of those three thousand three hundred lashes for which thou art engaged, and they shall stand good in the account; for, when a thing is once began, it is almost as good as half finished.’—‘Before God!’ cried Sancho, ‘your worship must be out of your senses; this is just as they say, You see me in a hurry, and ask me to marry. Now, when I am going to ride upon a wooden crupper, would your worship have me afflict my posteriors? Verily, verily, your worship was never more out of the way; at present, let us proceed and shave those duennas, and at our return, I promise to your worship, on the faith of my character, to quit my score with such dispatch, that your worship shall be satisfied; and I’ll say no more.’—‘Well, then,’ answered the knight, ‘I will console myself, honest Sancho, with that promise, which I really believe thou wilt perform; for, surely, though thy head be but green, thy heart is true blue.’—‘Green,’ said Sancho; ‘my head is not green, but black; but even though it were pye-bald, I would perform my promise.’

After this short dialogue they returned, in order to take horse; then, the knight addressing himself to the squire, ‘Sancho,’ said he, ‘suffer yourself to be hoodwinked, and get up: he who sends for us from such distant regions, can have no intention to deceive us, because he could reap no glory from having deceived those who depended on his sincerity; and, although the event may turn out contrary to my expectation, the glory of having undertaken such an exploit no malice whatsoever can impair.’—‘Come, then, Signior,’ cried the squire, ‘for the beards and tears of those ladies are so imprinted in my heart, that I shall not swallow a mouthful to do me good, until I see them restored to their original smoothness. Get up, Signior, and hoodwink yourself first: for, if the crupper is to be my seat, it is plain that you must mount first into the saddle.’—‘You are in the right,’ replied Don Quixote; who, pulling an handkerchief from his pocket, desired the afflicted duenna to fasten it round his eyes, which, however, were no sooner covered, than he took off the bandage, saying, ‘If I remember aright, I have read in Virgil, of the Trojan Palladium, a wooden horse offered to the goddess Pallas, the bowels of which horse were filled with armed men, who afterwards occasioned the total destruction of Troy; and, therefore, it will not be amiss, first of all, to examine the belly of Clavileno.’—‘There is no occasion,’ said the afflicted duenna; ‘for I am certain that Malambruno has neither treachery nor malice in his heart: your worship, Signior Don Quixote, may therefore mount, without the least apprehension; and if any mischief befal you, lay it at my door.’ The knight reflecting that any hesitation about his personal safety would be a disparagement to his valour, mounted Clavileno without farther altercation, and tried the peg, which turned with ease; and his legs hanging down at full length, for want of stirrups, he looked like a figure in some Roman triumph, painted or wrought in Flemish tapestry.

Then Sancho, very slowly, and much against his will, crept up behind, and seating himself as well as he could upon the crupper, found it so hard and uneasy, that he begged the duke would order him to be accommodated with some cushion or pillow, though it should be taken from my Lady Duchess’s sopha, or some page’s bed; for the crupper of that horse seemed to be made of marble rather than of wood.

Here Trifaldi interposing, assured him that Clavileno would bear no kind of furniture or ornament; but said he might sit sideways like a woman, in which attitude he would not be so sensible of the hardness. Sancho took her advice, and saying adieu, allowed his eyes to be covered; but, afterwards pulling up the bandage, and looking ruefully at all the people in the garden, he, with tears in his eyes, besought them to assist him in that extremity with a brace of Paternosters, and as many Ave Marias, as God should provide somebody to do as much for them in like time or need.

Don Quixote hearing this apostrophe, ‘How now, miscreant!’ said he, ‘are you brought to the gallows, or in the last agonies of death, that you make use of such intreaties? Dispirited and cowardly creature! Art not thou seated in the very same place which was occupied by the fair Magalona, and from which she descended, not to her grave, but to the crown of France, if history speaks truth? And I, who sit by thy side, surely may vie with valiant Peter, who pressed the self same back now pressed by me. Shroud, shroud thine eyes, thou animal without a soul, and let not those symptoms of fear escape thy lips, at least in my presence.’—‘Hoodwink me then,’ answered Sancho, ‘and since I must neither recommend myself, nor be recommended, to the protection of God, what wonder is it, if I am afraid we shall meet with some legion of devils, who will treat us according to the Peralvillo law[181]?’

Their eyes being covered, and Don Quixote perceiving he was fixed in his seat, turned the peg; and scarce had his finger touched this rudder, when the whole bevy of duennas, and all that were present, raised their voices, crying, ‘Heaven be thy guide, valorous knight! God be thy protection, intrepid squire!—Now, now, you rise and cut the liquid sky more swiftly than an arrow; now, you begin to astonish and confound all those who gaze upon you from this earthly spot!—Hold fast, valiant Sancho, for we see thee totter; beware of falling: to fall from such an height would be more fatal than the fall of that aspiring youth whose ambition prompted him to drive the chariot of the sun his father.’

Sancho, hearing this exclamation, crept closer to his master, and hugging him fast in his arms, ‘Signior,’ said he, ‘how can we be so high as those people say we are, seeing we can hear them speak as well as if we were within a few yards of them?’—‘You must not mind that circumstance,’ answered the knight; ‘for these incidents and flights being all together out of the ordinary course of things, you may hear and see what you please, at the distance of a thousand leagues: but do not squeeze me so hard, lest I tumble from my seat. I really cannot imagine what it is that disturbs and affrights thee; for I swear, in all the days of my life, I never bestrode a horse of a more easy pace: indeed, he goes so smoothly, that I can hardly feel him move. Dispel thy fear, my friend, for truly the business goes on swimmingly, and we sail right afore the wind.’—‘You are certainly in the right,’ answered Sancho; ‘for on this side, there blows as fresh a gale as if I was fanned with a thousand pair of bellows.’

Nor was he much mistaken in his conjecture; for the wind that blew was actually produced by one of those machines: so well had the adventure been contrived by the duke and duchess, and, their steward, that nought was wanting to render it compleat. Then the knight feeling the same breeze, ‘Without doubt,’ said he, ‘we must be arrived at the second region of the air, in which hail and snow are produced; meteors, thunder and lightning, are engendered in the third region: if we continue to mount at this rate, we shall in a very little time reach the region of fire; and I know not how to manage this peg, so as to put a stop to our rising, and prevent our being scorched to a cinder.’

In the midst of this conversation their faces were warmed with some tow that was kindled for the purpose, at the end of a long pole, and Sancho feeling the heat, ‘Let me perish!’ cried he, ‘if we are not now come to that same habitation of fire; for a great part of my beard is already singed; and I am resolved to uncover my eyes, that I may see whereabouts we are.’—‘By no means,’ answered the knight: ‘remember the true story of the licentiate Toralva, who being mounted on a cane, was conveyed through the air, with his eyes shut, by the devils: in twelve hours he arrived at Rome, and alighted on the tower of Nona, which is in one of the streets of that city, whence he beheld the whole tumult, assault, and death, of the constable of Bourbon; and before morning he had returned to Madrid, where he gave an account of that transaction. He likewise affirmed, that while he travelled through the air, the devil bade him open his eyes, and he saw himself so near the body of the moon, that he could have touched it with his hand; but he durst not look towards the earth, lest his head should have turned giddy. Let us not, therefore, uncover our eyes, Sancho; he in whose charge we are will give a good account of us; and, perhaps, we are now at the very point of our elevation, from whence we shall come souse upon the kingdom of Candaya, as a faker or jerfaulcon darts down upon an heron with a force proportioned to his rise: and, although it seems to us no more than half an hour since we set out from the garden, you may depend upon it we have travelled an immense way.’—‘As to that matter, I am quite ignorant,’ said Sancho: ‘this only I know, that if Madam Magallanes or Magalona took pleasure in sitting upon this crupper, her flesh must not have been very tender.’

All this dialogue of the two heroes was overheard by the duke and duchess, and the rest of the company in the garden, to whom it afforded extraordinary entertainment: at length, desirous of finishing this strange and well-concerted adventure, they set fire to Clavileno’s tail with some lighted flax; his belly being filled with squibs and crackers, he instantly blew up with a dreadful explosion, and Don Quixote, with his squire, came to the ground more than half singed. By this time the whole bearded squadron, with my Lady Trifaldi, had vanished from the garden, and all the rest of the company were stretched upon the ground as in a trance. Don Quixote and Sancho getting on their feet, in a very indifferent condition, and looking all around, were astonished to find themselves in the same garden from which they took their flight, and to see such a number of people extended along the grass: but their admiration was still more increased, when at one corner of the garden they beheld a huge lance fixed in the ground, and tied to this lance, by two cords of green silk, a smooth, white skin of parchment, on which was the following inscription in large golden letters:

‘The renowned knight Don Quixote de la Mancha has finished and atchieved the adventure of the Countess Trifaldi, alias the afflicted Duenna, and her companions solely by his having undertaken the enterprize.

‘Malambruno is wholly satisfied and appeased; the chins of the duennas are smooth and clean; their Majesties Don Clavijo and Antonomasia are restored to their original form: and when the squirely flagellation shall be accomplished, the white dove will be delivered from the pestilential talons of her persecutors, and find herself within the arms of her beloved turtle; for such is the decree of the sage Merlin, the prince and prototype of all enchanters.’

Don Quixote having read this scroll, at once comprehended the meaning, which related to the disinchantment of Dulcinea, and returning a thousand thanks to Heaven for his success in having finished such a mighty exploit with so little danger, and reduced to their pristine form the faces of those venerable duennas who had disappeared, he went towards the place where the duke and duchess still lay intranced, and pulling his grace by the arm, ‘Courage! courage, my noble lord!’ said he; ‘all is over now; the adventure is finished, without damage to the barrier, as will plainly appear by the inscription of yonder scroll.’

The duke seemed to recover gradually, like one waking from a profound sleep; his example was followed by the duchess, and all the rest who lay along the garden; and they exhibited such marks of fear and astonishment, that even almost to themselves, that seemed to have happened in earnest which they had so well acted in jest. The duke having read the inscription with his eyes half shut, ran with open arms to embrace Don Quixote, calling him the most worthy knight that any age had ever produced: while Sancho went looking about for the afflicted matron, to see if her beard was quite gone, and whether her face, without hair, was as beautiful as her gallant deportment seemed to promise. But he was told, that as Clavileno descended in a flame from the sky, the whole squadron of duennas, with Trifaldi at their head, had vanished, and their faces smack-smooth as if they had been clean shaven.

Then the duchess asking, how it had fared with Sancho in his long journey, the squire replied, ‘As for me, my lady, I perceived, as my master told me, that we flew threw the region of fire, and I felt a strong inclination to have a peep; but my master would not consent, when I begged his permission to uncover my eyes; nevertheless, I, who have a sort of a chip of curiosity, and an eager desire to know what I am forbid to enquire about fair and softly, without being perceived by any living soul, pulled down upon my nose the handkerchief that covered my eyes, and by these means had a glimpse of the earth, which seemed no bigger than a grain of mustard, and the men that walked upon it almost as little as hazle nuts; so you may guess how high we must have soared by that time.’

To this asseveration the duchess answered, ‘Have a care, friend Sancho; from what you say, it appears that it could not be the earth, but the men walking upon it, whom you saw: for if the earth appeared like a grain of mustard, and every man as big as a nut, it clearly follows, that one man must have covered the whole earth.’—‘Very true,’ said Sancho; ‘but, for all that, I had a side-view, by which I discovered the whole globe.’—‘Take notice, Sancho,’ resumed the duchess, ‘it is impossible to see the whole of any thing by a side-view.’—‘I know nothing of views,’ replied the squire; ‘this only I know, your ladyship ought to consider, that as we flew by inchantment, so might I, by inchantment, see the whole earth, and all the men upon it, in any sort of view whatsoever: and if your ladyship will not believe me in that, no more will you believe me when I tell you, that pushing up the handkerchief towards my eye-brows, I found myself within a hand’s breadth and a half of heaven, which I’ll assure your ladyship upon oath is very huge; and it came to pass, that our road lay close to the seven nanny-goats[182]: now, I having been a goatherd in my youth, before God and my conscience! I no sooner set eyes on them, than I was seized with the inclination to divert myself a little with the pretty creatures, and if I had not done it, I believe I should have burst for vexation. Come on then, what does me I? but, without saying a word to any living soul, not even to my master, fairly and softly slide down from Clavileno, and sport with the nannies, which are like violets and lilies, for the space of three quarters of an hour, and all that time the horse did not budge a step from the place.’

‘And while honest Sancho diverted himself with the goats,’ said the duke, ‘how was Signior Don Quixote entertained?’ To this interrogation the knight replied, ‘As all these adventures and incidents are out of the ordinary course of nature, we are not to wonder at what Sancho has told; for my own part, I can safely affirm, that I neither shoved up nor pulled down the bandage, nor did see either heaven, or earth, or sea, or land. True it is, I perceived we passed through the region of the air, and even bordered upon the region of fire, but that we travelled beyond it I cannot believe; for the fiery region being between the sphere of the moon and the utmost region of the air, we could not reach that firmament in which are placed the seven nannies, as Sancho calls them, without being scorched to death; and seeing we are not scorched, either Sancho lyes, or Sancho dreams.’—‘I neither lye nor dream,’ cried the squire; ‘let them ask the marks of the nanny-goats, and by my answers you will perceive whether or not I speak truth.’—‘Describe them, then, Sancho,’ said the duchess. ‘Two of them,’ replied Sancho, ‘are green, two carnation, two blue, and one motley.’—‘This is a new breed,’ said the duke; ‘in our region of earth there are no such colours; I mean, among the nanny-goats.’—‘That is very plain,’ replied the squire; ‘there must be some difference between the goats of heaven and those upon earth.’—‘Pray, tell me, Sancho,’ said his grace, ‘didst thou see never a he-goat among those females[183]?’—‘No, my lord,’ answered the squire; ‘I have been told none of those pass beyond the horns of the moon.’

They did not chuse to interrogate him farther about his journey; for they concluded that Sancho was in a fair way to travel through all the heavens above, and tell the news of each, though he had never stirred from the garden.

Finally, thus ended the adventure of the afflicted duenna, which afforded a fund for laughter to the duke and duchess, not only at that time, but during the whole course of their lives; as well as matter for Sancho to relate, had he lived whole centuries.

Don Quixote coming to the squire, whispered in his ear, ‘Hark ye, Sancho; since you would have us believe what you say, touching the things you saw in heaven, I desire the like credit from you with regard to those things I saw in the cave of Montesinos: that’s all.’

Footnote 181:

Equivalent to Abington law; in consequence of which, a criminal is first executed, and then tried. Peralvillo is a village near Ciuidad Real, in Castile, where the officers of the holy brotherhood execute robbers taken _in flagrante_, who require no trial. Hence the phrase, ‘_La justicia de Peralvillo, que aborcado el hombre, le baze la Pesquisa_.’ i. e. ‘Peralvillo law, which begins the process after the man is hanged.’

Footnote 182:

In Spain, the Pleiades are vulgarly called _cabrillas_, i. e. nanny-goats.

Footnote 183:

There is a kind of pleasantry in this question of the duke, which cannot be translated; for the Spanish word, _cabron_, signifies a cuckold, as well as an he-goat.

CHAP. X. CONTAINING DON QUIXOTE’S INSTRUCTIONS TO SANCHO PANZA, BEFORE HE SET OUT FOR HIS GOVERNMENT— WITH OTHER WELL WEIGHED INCIDENTS.

The duke and duchess were so well pleased with the diverting and happy success of the adventure of the afflicted duenna, that they resolved to proceed with the jest, seeing what a proper subject they had to make it pass for earnest. Having, therefore, communicated their scheme and instructions to their servants and vassals, touching their behaviour to Sancho in his government of the promised island; on the day succeeding the flight of Clavileno, the duke desired him to prepare and make himself ready to set out for his government, as the islanders already longed for him as much as for May showers.

Sancho, having made his obeisance, ‘Since my descent from heaven,’ said he, ‘and since from its lofty summit I have viewed the earth, and found it of such small extent, my desire of being a governor is much moderated; for what grandeur can there be in reigning over a grain of mustard-seed? or what dignity and empire in governing half a dozen of mortals no bigger than filberts? for the whole earth seemed to contain nothing more. If your lordship would be pleased to bestow upon me a small trifling space in heaven, though it should not be above half a league, I would more gladly receive it than the best island in the world.’—‘You must consider, friend Sancho,’ replied the duke, ‘that I have it not in my power to give away any part of heaven; no, not a nail’s breadth, these favours and benefits are in the gift of God alone. What is in my power, I freely give you; namely, a good island, right and tight, round and well-proportioned, above measure fertile, and so abounding with all good things, that if you mind your hits, you may with the riches of earth purchase the opulence of heaven.’—‘Well, then,’ cried Sancho, ‘let this island be forthcoming, and I will struggle hard, but I shall be such a governor that in spite of knaves, I may go to heaven; and take notice, it is not from avarice that I desire to quit my cottage, and raise myself to a footing with my betters; but solely to taste and try what it is to be a governor.’—‘Nay, if once you taste it,’ said the duke, ‘you will be ready to eat your fingers after the government; for nothing is so delicious as to command and be obeyed; certain I am, that when your master shall come to be an emperor, as will doubtless be the case, considering the current of his affairs, it will not be in the power of any person upon earth to tear it from him, and he will sorely grieve, and heartily rue the time he has lost before his advancement to such an imperial station.’—‘Indeed, my lord,’ replied Sancho, ‘I imagine it must be a very pleasant thing to govern, even though it should be but a flock of sheep.’—‘May I be buried with you, Sancho, but you know every thing!’ answered the duke; ‘I hope you will turn out such a governor as your judgment and sagacity seem to promise: but here let that matter rest; and take notice, that tomorrow morning you must set out for the government of the island; and this evening you shall be accommodated with a convenient dress, and all other necessaries for your departure.’—‘They may dress me as they will,’ said the squire; ‘but, be that as it may, I shall still be Sancho Panza.’—‘True,’ replied the duke; ‘but the garb ought always to be suited to the dignity and function of the profession; for it would be a great impropriety in a lawyer to appear in the dress of a soldier, or in a soldier to wear canonicals; you, Sancho, must wear an habit that shall partly bespeak the gown, and partly the sword; for in the island which I have bestowed upon you, letters and arms are both necessary.’—‘As for letters,’ answered Sancho, ‘I am but indifferently stored, as I am even ignorant of the a, b, c; but, provided I remember my Christ-cross, I shall be sufficiently qualified for a good governor. With regard to arms, I shall use those that may be put into my hand, until I can stand no longer, and God be my shield!’—‘With such an excellent memory,’ said the duke, ‘Sancho can never fall into the least mistake.’

Here they were joined by Don Quixote, who understanding the subject of their conversation, and the short space allotted to Sancho to prepare for his departure, took the squire by the hand, with the duke’s permission, and led him to his apartment, in order to instruct him how to behave in his office. Having entered the chamber, he locked the door, and obliging Sancho to sit down by him, spoke to this effect, in a grave and solemn tone.

‘I return infinite thanks to Heaven, friend Sancho, for having ordained, that, before I myself have met with the least success, good fortune hath gone forth to bid thee welcome. I, who had balanced the remuneration of thy service in my own prosperity, find myself in the very rudiments of promotion; while thou, before thy time, and contrary to all the laws of reasonable progression, findest thy desire accomplished. Other people bribe, solicit, importune, attend levees, intreat, and persevere, without obtaining their suit; and another comes, who, without knowing why or wherefore, finds himself in possession of that office to which so many people laid claim; and here the old saying is aptly introduced, A pound of good luck is worth a ton of merit. Thou, who in comparison to me, art doubtless an ignorant dunce, without rising early, or sitting up late, or, indeed, exerting the least industry; without any pretension more or less, than that of being breathed upon by knight-errantry, seest thyself created governor of an island, as if it was a matter of moonshine. All this I observe, O Sancho, that thou mayest not attribute thy success to thy own deserts; but give thanks to Heaven for having disposed matters so beneficially in thy behalf, and then make thy acknowledgments to that grandeur which centers in the profession of knight-errantry. Thy heart being thus predisposed to believe what I have said, be attentive, O my son, to me, who am thy Cato, thy counsellor, thy north pole, and guide, to conduct thee into a secure harbour, from the tempestuous sea into which thou art going to be engulphed; for great posts, and offices of state, are no other than a profound gulph of confusion.

‘In the first place, O my son, you are to fear God: the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom; and if you are wise you cannot err.

‘Secondly, you must always remember who you are, and endeavour to know yourself; a study of all others the most difficult. This self knowledge will hinder you from blowing yourself up like a frog, in order to rival the size of an ox; if, therefore, you succeed in this learning, the consideration of thy having been a swineherd, will, like the peacock’s ugly feet, be a check upon thy folly and pride.’—‘I own, I once kept hogs, when I was a boy,’ said Sancho; ‘but after I grew up, I quitted that employment, and took care of geese; but I apprehend that matter is not of great consequence, for all governors are not descended from the kingly race.’—‘No, sure,’ answered the knight; ‘and, for that reason, those who are not of noble extraction, ought to sweeten the gravity of their function with mildness and affability; which, being prudently conducted, will screen them from those malicious murmurs that no station can escape. Rejoice, Sancho, in the lowness of your pedigree, and make no scruple of owning yourself descended from peasants; for nobody will endeavour to make you blush for that of which they see you are not ashamed; and value yourself more upon being a virtuous man of low degree, than upon being a proud sinner of noble birth. Innumerable are those, who, from an humble stock, have risen to the pontifical and imperatorial dignity; a truth which I could prove by so many examples, that you would not have patience to hear them.

‘Take notice, Sancho, if you chuse virtue for your medium, and pique yourself upon performing worthy actions, you will have no cause to envy noblemen and princes; for blood is hereditary, but virtue is acquired; consequently, this last has an intrinsick value, which the other does not possess.

‘This being the case, as undoubtedly it is, if peradventure any one of your relations should come to visit you in your island, you must not discountenance and affront him; but, on the contrary, let him be kindly received and entertained; and, in so doing, you will act conformably to the will of Heaven, which is displeased at seeing its own handy work despised; and perform your duty to the well-concerted rights of nature.

‘If you send for your wife, (and, indeed, those who are concerned in governing ought not to be long without their helpmates) take pains in teaching, improving, and civilizing her; for all that a sagacious governor can acquire, is very often lost and squandered by a foolish rustick wife.

‘If, perchance, you should become a widower, a circumstance that may possibly happen, and have it in your power to make a more advantageous match, you must not chuse such a yoke-fellow as will serve for an angling-hook, fishing-rod, or equivocating hood[184]; for verily I say unto thee, all that a judge’s wife receives must be accounted for at the general clearance, by the husband, who will repay fourfold after death what he made no reckoning of during life.

‘Never conduct yourself by the law of your own arbitrary opinion, which is generally the case with those ignorant people who presume upon their own self-sufficiency.

‘Let the tears of the poor find more compassion in thy breast, though not more justice, than the informations of the rich.

‘Endeavour to investigate the truth from among the promises and presents of the opulent, as well as from the sighs and importunities of the needy.

‘When equity can, and ought to take place, inflict not the whole rigour of the law upon the delinquent; for severity is not more respected than compassion, in the character of a judge.

‘If ever you suffer the rod of justice to be bent a little, let it not be warped by the weight of corruption, but the bowels of mercy.

‘If ever you should have an opportunity to judge the process of your enemy, recal the attention from the injury you have received, and fix it wholly upon the truth of the case.

‘In another man’s cause, be not blinded by private affection; for the errors thus committed are generally incurable; or, if they admit of remedy, it will be greatly at the expence of your fortune and credit.

‘If a beautiful woman should come to demand justice, withdraw your eyes from her tears, and your hearing from her sighs, and deliberate at a distance upon the substance of her demand, unless you have a mind that your reason should be overwhelmed by her complaint, and your virtue buried in her sighs.

‘Abuse not him in word whom you are resolved to chastise in deed; for to such a wretch, the pain of the punishment will be sufficient, without the addition of reproach.

‘In judging the delinquents who shall fall under your jurisdiction, consider the miserable object man, subject to the infirmities of our depraved nature; and, as much as lies in your power, without injury to the contrary party, display your clemency and compassion; for although all the attributes of God are equally excellent, that of mercy has a better effect in our eye, and strikes with greater lustre than justice.

‘If you observe and conduct yourself by these rules and precepts, Sancho, your days will be long upon the face of the earth; your fame will be eternal, your reward compleat, and your felicity unutterable; your children will be married according to your wish; they and their descendants will enjoy titles; you shall live in peace and friendship with all mankind: when your course of life is run, death will overtake you in an happy and mature old age, and your eyes will be shut by the tender and delicate hands of your posterity, in the third or fourth generation.

‘The remarks I have hitherto made, are documents touching the decoration of your soul; and now you will listen to those that regard the ornaments of the body.’

Footnote 184:

The phrase, _No quiero de tu capilla_, alludes to the practice of friars, who, when charity is offered, hold out their hoods to receive it, while they pronounce a refusal with their tongues.

CHAP. XI. OF THE SECOND SERIES OF INSTRUCTIONS WHICH DON QUIXOTE GAVE TO SANCHO PANZA.

Who that had heard this discourse of Don Quixote, would not have taken him for a person of sound judgment, and excellent disposition? but, as we have oftentimes observed, in the progress of this sublime history, his madness never appeared except when the string of chivalry was touched; and on all other subjects of conversation, he displayed a clear and ready understanding; so that every minute his works discredit his judgment, and his judgment his works. But, in this second set of instructions communicated to Sancho, he discovered great ingenuity, and raised his madness and discretion to a most elevated pitch.

Sancho listened with the utmost attention, and endeavoured to retain his advice, like a man who desired to preserve it, as the infallible means to promote the happy birth of that government with which he was so far gone. Don Quixote then proceeded in these terms.

‘With respect to the government of your person and family, Sancho: in the first place, I charge you to be cleanly, and pare your nails; and do not let them grow, like some people whose ignorance teaches them that long nails beautify the hand, as if that additional excrement which they neglect to cut, were really and truly the nail; whereas, it more nearly resembles the talons of a lizard-hunting wind-whiffer, and is a most beastly and extraordinary abuse.

‘You must never appear loose and unbuttoned; for a slovenly dress denotes a disorderly mind; unless that looseness and negligence be the effect of cunning, as we suppose to have been the case with Julius Cæsar.

‘Examine sagaciously the profits of your place, and if they will afford livery to your servants, let it be rather decent and substantial, than gay and tawdry; and be sure to divide it between your servants and the poor. For example, if you can clothe six pages, put three in livery, and clothe as many poor boys; and then you will have pages for Heaven as well as earth: now, this is a method of giving livery, which the vain-glorious could never conceive.

‘Abstain from eating garlick and onions, lest your breath should discover your rusticity.

‘Walk leisurely, speak distinctly, but not so as to seem delighted with your own discourse; for all affectation is disagreeable.

‘Dine sparingly, and eat very little at supper; for the health of the whole body depends upon the operation of the stomach.

‘Be temperate in drinking; and consider, that excess of wine will neither keep a secret nor perform a promise.

‘Beware, Sancho, of chewing on both sides of your mouth, as well as eructing before company.’—‘I do not understand what you mean by eructing,’ said the squire. ‘By eructing,’ answered the knight, ‘I mean belching; which though one of the most expressive, is at the same time one of the most vulgar terms of our language; therefore, people of taste have had recourse to the Latin tongue, saying “To eruct,” instead of “To belch,” and substituting eructations in the room of belchings; and though some people may not understand these terms, it is of small importance; for time and use will introduce and render them intelligible; and this is what we call enriching the language, over which the practice of the vulgar has great influence.’—‘Truly, Signior,’ said Sancho, ‘one of the advices and good counsels which I intend to remember, must be that of not belching; for it is a fault of which I am very often guilty.’—‘Eructing, Sancho, and not belching.’ replied Don Quixote. ‘Eructing it shall be henceforward,’ answered the squire; ‘and I will take care that it shall not be forgotten.’

‘Moreover, Sancho, you must not intermingle so many proverbs with your discourse; for, although proverbs are short sentences, you very often bring them in by the head and shoulders, so preposterously, that they look more like the ravings of distraction than well-chosen apothegms.’

‘That defect God himself must remedy,’ said Sancho; ‘for I have more proverbs by heart, than would be sufficient to fill a large book; and, when I speak, they croud together in such a manner, as to quarrel for utterance; so that my tongue discharges them just as they happen to be in the way, whether they are or are not to the purpose: but I will take care henceforward, to throw out those that may be suitable to the gravity of my office; for, Where there’s plenty of meat, the supper will soon be compleat. He that shuffles does not cut. A good hand makes a short game; and, It requires a good brain, to know when to give and retain.’—‘Courage, Sancho,’ cried Don Quixote, ‘squeeze, tack, and string your proverbs together, here are none to oppose you. My mother whips me, and I whip the top. Here am I exhorting thee to suppress thy proverbs, and in an instant thou hast spewed forth a whole litany of them, which are as foreign from the subject as an old ballad. Remember, Sancho, I do not say that a proverb, properly applied, is amiss; but to throw in, and string together, old saws, helter skelter, renders conversation altogether mean and despicable.

‘When you appear on horseback, do not lean backwards over the saddle, nor stretch out your legs stiffly from the horse’s belly, nor let them hang dangling in a slovenly manner, as if you was upon the back of Dapple; for some ride like jockies, and some like gentlemen.

‘Be very moderate in sleeping; for he who does not rise with the sun, cannot enjoy the day; and observe, O Sancho! Industry is the mother of prosperity; and Laziness, her opposite, never saw the accomplishment of a good wish.

‘The last advice which I shall now give thee, although it does not relate to the ornament of the body, I desire thou wilt carefully remember; for, in my opinion, it will be of as much service to thee, as any I have hitherto mentioned; and this it is: Never engage in a dispute upon pedigree, at least, never compare one with another; for in all comparisons, one must of consequence be preferred to the other; and he whom you have abased will abhor you; nor will you ever reap the least return from him whom you have extolled.

‘Your garb shall consist of breeches and stockings; a full waistcoat, with skirts and hanging sleeves, and a loose coat; but never think, of wearing trunk hose, which neither become gentlemen nor governors.

‘This is all that occurs to me at present, in the way of advice; but, in process of time, my instructions shall be proportioned to thy occasions, provided thou wilt take care to communicate, from time to time, the nature of thy situation.’

‘Signior,’ said Sancho, ‘I plainly perceive that all the advices you have given me, are sound and good, and profitable; but of what signification will they be, if I forget them all? Indeed, as for the matter of not letting my nails grow, or marrying another wife, in case I should have an opportunity, it will not easily slip out of my brain; but as to those other gallimawfries, quirks, and quiddities, I neither do retain them, nor shall I ever retain more of them than of last year’s rain; and therefore, it will be necessary to let me have them in writing; for, though I myself can neither read nor write, I will give them to my confessor, that he may repeat and beat them into my noddle, as there shall be occasion.’

‘Ah, sinner that I am!’ exclaimed Don Quixote, ‘what a scandal it is for governors to be so ignorant, that they can neither read nor write! Thou must know, Sancho, that for a man to be totally devoid of letters, or left-handed, argues either that he was descended from the very lowest and meanest of people, or that he was so wicked and stubborn, that good example and judicious precept have had no effect upon his mind or understanding. This is a great defect in thy character, and I wish thou wouldst learn, if possible, to write thy name.’—‘I can sign my name very well,’ answered Sancho; ‘for, during my stewardship of the brotherhood, I learned to make such letters as are ruddled into packs, and those they tell me stood for my name; besides, I can feign myself lame of my right-hand, and keep a secretary to sign in my room; so that there is a remedy for every thing but death. And I having the cudgel in my hand, will make them do as I command; for he whose father is mayor—you know—and I shall be a governor, which is still better——Let them come and see, but not throw their squibs or slanders at me: otherwise they may come for wool and go home shorn. The house itself will tell, if God loves its master well. A rich man’s folly is wisdom in the world’s eye: now, I being rich as being governor, and liberal withal, as I intend to be, nobody will spy my defects. Make yourself honey, and a clown will have flies. You are worth as much as you have, said my grannam; and, Might overcomes right.’

‘O! God’s curse light on thee,’ cried Don Quixote: ‘threescore thousand devils fly away with thee and thy proverbs! A full hour hast thou been stringing them together, and every one has been like a dagger to my soul. Take my word for it, these proverbs will bring thee one day to the gallows! for these, thy vassals will deprive thee of thy government, or at least enter into associations against thee. Tell me, numscull, where didst thou find this heap of old saws? or how didst thou learn to apply them, wiseacre? It makes me sweat like a day-labourer, to utter one proverb as it ought to be applied.’—‘’Fore God, Sir master of mine,’ replied Sancho, ‘your worship complains of mere trifles. Why the devil should you be in dudgeon with me for making use of my own? I have no other fortune or stock, but proverbs upon proverbs; and now there are no less than four at my tongue’s end, that come as pat to the purpose as pears in a basket; but, for all that, they shall not come forth; for, sagacious silence is Sancho.[185]’—‘That thou art not, Sancho,’ said the knight; ‘far from being sagaciously silent, thou art an obstinate and eternal babbler. Nevertheless, I would fain hear those four proverbs that are so pat to the purpose; for I have been rummaging my whole memory, which I take to be a good one, and not a proverb occurs to my recollection.’—‘What can be better than these?’ replied the squire: ‘Never thrust your thumb between another man’s grinders; and to, Get out of my house! what would you with my wife? there is no reply: Whether the stone goes to the pitcher, or the pitcher to the stone, ’ware pitcher. Now all these fit to a hair. Let no man meddle with a governor or his substitute; otherwise he will suffer, as if he had thrust his finger between two grinders; and even if they should not be grinders, if they are teeth, it makes little difference: then, to what a governor says, there is no reply to be made, no more than to, Get out of my house! what would you with my wife? and as to the stone and the pitcher, a blind man may see the meaning of it: Wherefore, let him who spies a mote in his neighbour’s eye, look first to the beam in his own, that people may not say of him, The dead mare was frighted at the flay’d mule; and your worship is very sensible that a fool knows more in his own house than a wise man in that of his neighbour.’—‘There, Sancho, you are mistaken.’ answered Don Quixote; ‘a fool knows nothing either in his own or his neighbour’s house; because no edifice of understanding can be raised upon the foundation of folly. But here let the subject rest: if thou shouldest misbehave in thy government, thine will be the fault and mine the shame; I console myself, however, in reflecting that I have done my duty in giving thee advice, with all the earnestness and discretion in my power; so that I have acquitted myself in point of promise and obligation. God conduct thee, Sancho, and govern thee in thy government, and deliver me from an apprehension I have, that thou wilt turn the island topsy turvy; a misfortune which I might prevent, by discovering to the duke what thou art, and telling him all that paunch and corpulency of thine is no other than a bag full of proverbs and impertinence.’

‘Signior,’ replied Sancho, ‘if your worship really thinks I am not qualified for that government, I renounce it from henceforward forever. Amen. I have a greater regard for a nail’s breadth of my soul, than my whole body; and I can subsist as bare Sancho, upon a crust of bread and an onion, as well as governor on capons and partridges; for, While we sleep, great and small, rich and poor, are equal all. If your worship will consider, your worship will find, that you yourself put this scheme of government into my head; as for my own part, I know no more of the matter than a bustard; and if you think the governorship will be the means of my going to the devil, I would much rather go as simple Sancho to Heaven, than as a governor to hell fire.’

‘Before God!’ cried the knight, ‘from these last reflections thou hast uttered, I pronounce thee worthy to govern a thousand islands. Thou hast an excellent natural disposition, without which all science is naught: recommend thyself to God, and endeavour to avoid errors in the first intention; I mean, let thy intention and unshaken purpose be, to deal righteously in all thy transactions; for Heaven always favours the upright design. And now let us go in to dinner; for I believe their graces wait for us.’

Footnote 185:

Instead of _saintly_.

CHAP. XII. GIVING AN ACCOUNT OF THE MANNER IN WHICH SANCHO WAS CONDUCTED TO THE GOVERNMENT, AND A STRANGE ADVENTURE THAT HAPPENED TO DON QUIXOTE IN THE CASTLE.

The original of the history, it is said, relates that the interpreter did not translate this chapter as it had been written by Cid Hamet Benengeli, who bewails his fate in having undertaken such a dry and confined history as that of Don Quixote; which obliged him to treat of nothing but the knight and his squire, without daring to launch out into other more grave and entertaining episodes and digressions. He complained, that to be thus restricted in his hand, his pen, and his invention, to one subject only, so as to be obliged to speak through the mouths of a few persons, was an insupportable toil, that produced no fruit to the advantage of the author; and that in order to avoid this inconvenience, he had in the first part used the artifice of some novels, such as the Impertinent Curiosity, and the Captive, which were detached from the history, although many particulars there recounted are really incidents which happened to Don Quixote; and, therefore, could not be suppressed. It was likewise his opinion, as he observes, that many readers being wholly ingrossed with the exploits of Don Quixote, would not bestow attention upon novels, but pass them over either with negligence or disgust, without adverting to the spirit and artifice they contain: a truth which would plainly appear, were they to be published by themselves, independent of the madness of Don Quixote, and the simplicities of Sancho. He would not therefore insert in the second part any novels, whether detached or attached; but only a few episodes that seem to spring from those very incidents which truth represents; and even these, as brief and concise as they could possibly be related: and since he includes and confines himself within the narrow limits of narration, though his abilities and understanding are sufficient to treat the whole universe, he hopes that his work will not be depreciated; and begs he may receive due praise, not for what he has written, but for what he has left unwrit. Then the history proceeds in this manner.

In the evening that succeeded the afternoon on which the knight admonished his squire, he gave him his admonitions in writing, that he might find some person to read them occasionally; but, scarce had Sancho received, than he dropped them by accident, and they fell into the hands of the duke, who communicated the paper to the duchess, and both admired anew the madness and ingenuity of Don Quixote. Revolving to prosecute the jest, they, that very evening, dismissed Sancho with a large retinue to the place, which he supposed to be an island; the execution of the whole scheme being left to the sagacity of the duke’s steward, who was a person of great humour and discretion; for without discretion there can be no humour. He it was who acted the part of the Countess Trifaldi, with that pleasantry above related. Thus qualified, and in consequence of the instructions he received from their graces touching his behaviour to Sancho, he had performed his part to admiration. It happened, then, that Sancho no sooner beheld the said steward, than he traced in his countenance the very features of Trifaldi; and turning to his master, ‘Signior,’ said he, ‘the devil may fly away with me from this spot where I stand, as an honest man, and a believer, if your worship will not confess that the face of the duke’s steward here present, is the very same with that of the afflicted duenna!’ Don Quixote, having attentively considered the steward’s countenance, replied, ‘There is no occasion for the devil’s running away with thee, Sancho, either as an honest man or a believer; (indeed, I cannot guess thy meaning) for, sure enough, this steward’s face is the very same with that of the afflicted duenna; but, nevertheless, the steward and the duenna cannot possibly be the same person: that would imply a downright contradiction, and this is no time to set on foot such enquiries, which would entangle us in the maze of inextricable labyrinths. Believe me, friend, we ought to beseech the Lord very earnestly to deliver us from those two evils of wicked wizzards, and vile inchanters.’—‘But this is no joke,’ answered Sancho; ‘for I heard him speak a little while ago, and methought the very voice of Trifaldi sounded in mine ears. At present, however, I will hold my tongue; but, nevertheless, I will keep a strict eye over him from henceforward, in order to discover some other mark either to destroy or confirm my suspicion.’—‘Do so, Sancho,’ said Don Quixote; ‘and be sure to send me notice of the discoveries thou shalt make in this particular, as well as of every thing that shall happen to thee in the course of thine administration.’

At length Sancho departed with a numerous attendance; he was dressed like a gownman, with a long cloak of murrey-coloured camblet, and a cap of the same stuff: he rode upon a mule, with short stirrups; and was followed by Dapple, who, by the duke’s express order, was adorned with rich trappings of flaming silk; so that the governor from time to time turned about his head to contemplate the finery of his ass, with whose company he was so well content, that he would not have exchanged it for that of the German emperor.

At parting, he kissed the hands of the duke and duchess; and asked the benediction of his master, which was given with tears, and received with a whimper.

Courteous reader, suffer honest Sancho to depart in peace and happy time, and lay thy account with two bushels of laughter, which will proceed from thy knowing how he behaved himself in office; and in the mean time, attend to what befel his master this very night; an incident which, if it cannot excite thy laughter, will, at least, induce thee to grin like a monkey; for the adventures of Don Quixote must be celebrated, either with mirth or admiration.

It is related, then, that Sancho was no sooner gone than his master became solitary; and had it been possible, would have revoked the commission, and deprived him of his government; but the duchess being apprized of his melancholy, desired to know the cause, observing, that if it proceeded from Sancho’s absence, there was plenty of squires, duennas, and damsels, in the family, who should serve him to the satisfaction of his utmost wish. ‘True it is, my Lady Duchess,’ replied Don Quixote, ‘I feel the absence of Sancho; but that is not the principal cause of my seeming sadness; and of all the generous proffers of your excellency, I chuse to accept nothing but the good-will with which they are made; for the rest, I humbly beg your excellency will consent, and permit me to wait upon myself in my own apartment.’—‘Truly,’ said the duchess, ‘that must not be; Signior Don Quixote shall be served by four of my damsels, as beautiful as roses.’—‘With regard to me,’ answered the knight, ‘they will not be roses, but thorns to prick my very soul; and, therefore, I will as soon fly as permit them, or any thing like them, to enter my chamber. If your grace would continue to bestow your favours, which, I own, I do not deserve, suffer me to be private, and make use of my own doors, that I may raise a wall between my passions and my chastity; a custom which I would not forego for all the liberality which your highness is pleased to display in my behalf; and, in a word, I will rather sleep in my cloaths than consent to be undressed by any person whatsoever.’—‘Enough, enough, Signior Don Quixote,’ answered her grace; ‘you may depend upon it, I shall give such orders, that not even a fly, much less a damsel, shall enter your apartment; I am not a person to discompose the decency of Signior Don Quixote, among whose virtues, I perceive, that of decorum shines with superior lustre. Your worship may dress and undress yourself alone, after your own fashion, when and how you please, without lett or impediment; for in your chamber you will find every utensil suited to those who sleep under lock and key, without being obliged to open upon any necessary occasion. Long live the great Dulcinea del Toboso, and may her fame be extended around the whole circumference of the earth, seeing she is worthy to be beloved by a knight of such valour and chastity; and may propitious Heaven infuse into the heart of Sancho Panza, our governor, a promptitude to finish his flagellation, that the world may soon re-enjoy the beauty of such an excellent lady!’ To this compliment the knight replied; ‘Your highness hath spoken like yourself; for from the mouths of such benevolent ladies nothing evil can proceed; and Dulcinea will be more fortunate, and more renowned through the world, by your grace’s approbation, than by all the applause of the greatest orators upon earth.’

‘Well then, Signior Don Quixote,’ answered the duchess, ‘it is now supper time, and the duke probably stays for us; let us go and sup, therefore, that you may be a-bed betimes; for your journey to Candaya was not so short, but that it must have fatigued your worship in some measure.’—‘Madam,’ replied Don Quixote, ‘I feel no sort of weariness; and I swear to your excellency, that in my life I never crossed a better or easier going steed than Clavileno; nor can I conceive what should induce Malambruno to deprive himself of such a light and gentle carriage, by burning it without scruple or hesitation.’—‘As to that particular,’ said the duchess, ‘we may suppose, that repenting of the injury he had done to the countess and her company, as well as to other people, and being sorry for the mischief he must certainly have produced as a wizzard and inchanter, he resolved to destroy all the instruments of his art; as the principal of these, which gave him the greatest uneasiness, because it has transported him from place to place in his operations, he burned Clavileno, that by means of his ashes, and the trophy of the parchment, the valour of Don Quixote might be eternized.’

The knight made fresh acknowledgments of her grace’s politeness, and after supper retired to his apartment, without suffering any person to accompany or minister unto his occasions; so much was he afraid of meeting with trials, which might provoke or compel him to forego the chastity and decorum which he had hitherto preserved for his mistress Dulcinea, ever schooling his imagination with the exemplary virtue of Amadis, the flower and mirrour of knight-errantry.

Having locked the door behind him, he undressed himself by the light of two wax tapers; and in the course of this occupation (O misfortune, ill decreed to such a personage!) forth broke—not a volley of sighs, or any thing else to discredit the purity of his politeness, but about two dozen of stitches in one stocking; which, being thus torn, resembled a lattice: a mishap which was the source of extreme affliction to our worthy Signior; who, on this occasion, would have given an ounce of silver for a drachm of green silk, for his stockings were of that colour.

Here Benengeli exclaims, ‘O poverty, poverty! I know not what should induce the great Cordovan poet to call thee an holy unfrequented gift. I, though a Moor, am very sensible, from my correspondence with Christians, that holiness consists in charity, humility, faith, poverty, and obedience; yet, nevertheless, I will affirm, that he must be holy indeed, who can sit down content with poverty, unless we mean that kind of poverty to which one of the greatest saints alludes, when he says, “Possess all things as not possessing them,” and this is called spiritual poverty. But thou second poverty, which is the cause I spoke of, why wouldst thou assault gentlemen of birth rather than any other class of people? Why dost thou compel them to cobble their shoes, and wear upon their coats one button of silk, another of hair, and a third of glass? Why must their ruffs be generally yellow and ill starched?’ (By the bye, from this circumstance we learn the antiquity of ruffs and starch[186].) But, thus he proceeds: ‘O wretched man of noble pedigree! who is obliged to administer cordials to his honour, in the midst of hunger and solitude, by playing the hypocrite with a toothpick, which he affects to use in the street, though he has eat nothing to require that act of cleanliness; wretched he! I say, whose honour is ever apt to be startled, and thinks that every body, at a league’s distance, observes the patch upon his shoe, his greasy hat, and thread-bare cloak, and even the hunger that predominates in his belly!’

All these reflections occurred to Don Quixote when he tore his stockings; but he consoled himself for the misfortune, when he perceived that Sancho had left behind him a pair of travelling-boots, which he resolved to wear next day: finally, he crept into bed, where he lay pensive and melancholy, as well for the absence of Sancho, as for the irreparable misfortune of his stocking, which he would have gladly mended, even with silk of a different colour; one of the greatest marks of misery which a gentleman can exhibit in the course of his tedious poverty. After having extinguished the lights, he found the weather so hot that he could not sleep: he therefore arose again, and opened the casement of a great window that looked into a fine garden; then it was, that perceiving and hearing people walking and talking together, he began to listen attentively, while those below spoke so loud that he heard the following dialogue.

‘Do not, O Emerencia, press me to sing; for well thou knowest, that from the moment this stranger entered the castle, and mine eyes beheld his merit, instead of singing, I can do nothing but weep; besides, my lady’s sleep is rather slight than profound; and I would not for all the wealth in the world, that her grace should find us here. Moreover, suppose she should still sleep on, without waking, vain would be my song, unless it should awake, and attract the attention of this new Æneas, who is arrived in my territories, in order to leave me forlorn.’—‘Let not these suppositions have any weight with you, my dear Altisidora,’ replied another voice; ‘the duchess is doubtless asleep, and every body in the house, except the lord of your heart, and watchman of your soul, who must certainly be awake, for I just now heard him open the casement in his apartment; sing, therefore, my disastrous friend, in a low, sweet, and plaintive tone, to the sound of thy harp; and should the duchess overhear us, we will lay the blame upon the heat of the weather.’—‘That is not the cause of my hesitation, O Emerencia,’ replied Altisidora; ‘but, I am afraid that my song will disclose the situation of my heart, and I myself be censured by those who never felt the almighty power of Love, as a light and liquorish damsel; but, come what will, better have an hot face than an heavy heart.’ At that instant an harp was ravishingly touched, and Don Quixote hearing the sound, was struck with amazement; for his imagination was instantly filled with an infinity of similar adventures of rails and gardens, serenades, courtships and swoonings, which he had read in his vain books of chivalry; and he concluded that some damsel of the duchess was enamoured of him, but that modesty compelled her to keep her inclinations secret. Possessed of this notion, he began to be afraid of his virtue: but he resolved, in his own mind, to hold out to the last; and, recommending himself, with all his soul and spirit, to his mistress Dulcinea del Toboso, determined to listen to the song. With a view, therefore, to let them know he was there, he pretended to sneeze, a circumstance which not a little pleased the damsels, who desired nothing so much as that Don Quixote should hear them. Then the harp being tuned, Altisidora, after a flourish, began the following ditty.

SONG.

‘O Thou! who now a-bed, In Holland sheets are laid, And sleep’st from night till morn, Untouch’d by care and scorn; The knight of greatest worth La Mancha e’er brought forth; More chaste an hundred fold, Than pure Arabian gold; O hear an hapless maid By cruel love betray’d! The flame of thy two suns Hath scorch’d her to the bones! Thou seeking thy own foe, Hast found another’s woe: Thou gav’st the wound, and sure Wilt not refuse the cure. O tell me, valiant youth, (So God shall prosper truth) Wast thou in desarts bred, Or among mountains fed? Did serpents give thee suck, On some bleak barren rock, Deep in the wild recess Of forest or morass? Dulcinea fat and fair, May boast her shape and air, That in subjection hold A tyger fierce and bold: Her fame shall live in stanza, From Ebro to Arlanza, From Tagus to Henarez, From Seine to Manganarez, Would I her place could fill, I’d give her for good will, My gayest petticoat With golden fringes wrought, How happy then should I In thine embraces lie! Or on some cushion loll, And scratch thy valiant poll. Such joys are far above The merits of my love; Let me, then, bending low, With rapture kiss thy toe. What presents would be made, Of sattin and brocade! I’d give thee shoes and socks, Silk hose with silver clocks; Of cash uncounted sums, And pearls as big as plums; So precious, each would sell As perfect nonpareil. Manchegan Nero, say, Dost thou, aloof, survey The flames that rage and smart Within my love-sick heart? A maid I vow and swear, Young, tender, and sincere; As yet I have not seen The borders of fifteen. My sides are not awry, Nor lame, nor blind, am I: My locks with ribbands bound, Like lilies, sweep the ground: My nose is flat, ’tis true, And eke my mouth askew; But teeth as topaz fine, Compleat my charms divine; My voice, as you may hear, Is tuneful, sweet, and clear; My temper soft and good, If rightly understood. These beauties all so clever, Are yielded to thy quiver, And I who tell my story, Am call’d Altisidory.’

Here ended the song of the hapless Altisidora; and here began the horror of the courted Don Quixote; who, fetching a heavy sigh, said within himself—‘What an unfortunate errant am I, whom no damsel can behold without being enamoured of my person! and how hapless is the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, who cannot enjoy my incomparable constancy, without a rival! Queens, what would you have? Empresses, why do you persecute her beauty? Damsels of fifteen, why do you molest such virtue? Leave, leave, I say, that wretched lady, to taste, enjoy, and triumph, in the lot which love hath decreed her, by subduing my heart, and captivating my soul. Take notice, enamoured tribe, that to Dulcinea alone I am sugar paste, but flint to all the rest of her sex: to her I am honey; but gall and bitterness to such as you. In my eye, Dulcinea alone is beauteous, wise, gay, chaste, and well-born; but all others are homely, foolish, idle, and of humble birth. To be her slave, and her’s alone, nature has thrown me into the world; Altisidora may weep or sing; and that lady may despair, on whose account I was pummelled in the castle of the inchanted Moor; Dulcinea’s I am resolved to be, boiled or roasted, neat, chaste, and well-bred, in spite of all the witchcraft upon earth.’ So saying, he shut the casement with a flap, and retired to bed, in as much anxiety and concern as if some great misfortune had befallen him. There, then, we will leave him for the present, as we are summoned by the mighty Panza, who is impatient to begin his famous administration.

Footnote 186:

Cervantes has been frequently caught napping, and here in particular: How could this be any proof of the antiquity of ruffs, when the adventure happened after the first part of Don Quixote was published? But, perhaps, this is no other than an ironical animadversion upon the trifling discoveries of antiquarians.

CHAP. XIII. GIVING AN ACCOUNT OF THE MANNER IN WHICH SANCHO PANZA TOOK POSSESSION OF HIS ISLAND, AND BEGAN HIS ADMINISTRATION.

O Thou! perpetual explorer of the antipodes, torch of nature, eye of Heaven, and agreeable motive for wine-cooling jars, Thymbrius here, Phœbus there, archer in one place, physician in another, father of poetry, and inventor of musick; thou who always risest, but never settest, although thou seemest to set. Thee I invoke, O sun! by whose assistance man is by man engendered; thee I implore, that thou would’st favour and enlighten the obscurity of my genius, and enable me to write with precision an account of the great Sancho Panza’s administration: for, without thy aid, I find myself lukewarm, feeble, and confused.

To begin, then: Sancho, with his whole retinue, arrived at a town containing about a thousand inhabitants, one of the best in the duke’s possession; which they told Sancho was called the Island Barataria, either because the name of the place was really Barataria, or because he had very cheaply purchased the government[187]. When he reached the gates of the town, which was walled, the magistrates came forth to receive him, the bells were set a ringing, and the inhabitants, with expressions of universal joy, conducted him with vast pomp to the great church, in order to return thanks to Heaven for his safe arrival; then, with some ridiculous ceremonies, they delivered to him the keys of the town, and admitted him as perpetual governor of the Island Barataria.

The equipage, matted beard, corpulency, and diminutive stature of the new governor, furnished food for admiration to every body who did not know the juggle of the contrivance; aye, and even to those acquainted with the mystery, who were not a few. In fine, they carried him from the church to the town-hall, and placing him upon the bench, the duke’s steward addressed himself to the governor in these words: ‘It is an ancient custom in this famous island, my lord governor, that he who comes to take possession of it is obliged to answer some difficult and intricate question that shall be put to him, and by his response the inhabitants feel the pulse of their new governor’s genius, according to which they rejoice or repine at his arrival.’ While the steward pronounced this address, Sancho was contemplating a number of large letters written upon the wall that fronted his tribunal, and as he could not read, he desired to know the meaning of that painting on the wall. ‘In that place, my lord,’ replied the steward, ‘is written and recorded, the day on which your excellency has taken possession of this island, for the inscription runs, On such a day and such a month, Signior Don Sancho Panza took possession of this island, and long may he enjoy the government thereof.’—‘And whom do they call Don Sancho Panza?’ said the governor. ‘Who, but your excellency,’ answered the steward; ‘for this island never saw any other Panza than him who sits on that tribunal.’—‘Take notice, then, brother,’ replied Sancho, ‘that Don belongs not to me, nor did it ever belong to any of my generation. Simple Sancho is my name; so was my father called, and so my grandfather; and they were all Panzas, without addition of Don or Donna; and I begin to imagine there are as many Dons as stones in this island; but no more of that: God knows my meaning; and peradventure, if my government lasts above three days, I shall weed out these Dons, which, from their swarms, must be as troublesome as vermin. But pray, Mr. Steward, proceed with your question, which I shall answer to the best of my understanding, whether the townsmen should repine or not repine.’

At that instant two men entered the hall, one in the habit of a labouring man, and the other a taylor with shears in his hand, who, approaching the bench, ‘My lord governor,’ said he, ‘this countryman and I are come before your lordship about an affair which I am going to explain. This honest man comes yesterday to my shop—for, saving your presence, I am an examined taylor, God be praised! and putting a remnant of cloth in my hand, “Gaffer,” said he, “is there stuff enough here to make me a cap?” I having handled the piece, replied, “Yes.” Now he supposing, as I suppose, and to be sure it was a right supposition, that I wanted to cabbage part of the stuff, grounding his suspicion on his own deceit, and the bad character of us taylors, desired I would see if there was enough for two caps; and I, guessing his thoughts, answered, “Yes.” And so my gentleman, persisting in his first and evil intention, went on adding cap to cap; and I proceeded to answer Yes upon Yes, until the number increased to five caps. This very moment he called for them; and when I produced them, he not only refused to pay me for my work, but even demanded that I should either restore the cloth, or pay him the price of it.’—‘Is this really the case, brother?’ said Sancho. ‘Yes, my lord,’ replied the countryman; ‘but I beg your lordship would order him to shew what sort of caps he has made.’—‘With all my heart,’ cried the taylor; who immediately pulling out his hand from under his cloak, produced five small caps fixed upon the tops of his four fingers and thumb; saying, ‘Here are the five caps which this honest man desired me to make; as I shall answer to God and my own conscience, there is not a scrap of the stuff remaining; and I am willing to submit the work to the inspection of the masters of the company.’ All the people in court laughed at the number of caps, and the novelty of the dispute, which Sancho having considered for a few moments, ‘Methinks,’ said he, ‘this suit requires no great discussion, but may be equitably determined out of hand: and therefore my determination is, that the taylor shall lose his work, and the countryman forfeit his cloth; and that the caps shall be distributed among the poor prisoners, without farther hesitation.’

If the sentence he afterwards passed upon the herdsman’s purse excited the admiration of the spectators, this decision provoked their laughter: nevertheless, they executed the orders of their governor, before whom two old men now presented themselves, one of them having a cane, which he used as a walking-staff. The other making up to the governor, ‘My lord,’ said he, ‘some time ago, I lent this man ten crowns of gold, to oblige and assist him in an emergency, on condition that he should pay them upon demand; and for a good while I never asked my money, that I might not put him to greater inconvenience in repaying than that which he felt when he borrowed the sum; but as he seemed to neglect the payment entirely, I have demanded the money again and again, and he not only refuses to refund, but also denies that I ever lent him the ten crowns; or, if I did, he says he is sure they were repaid: now, I having no witnesses to prove the loan, nor he evidence of the re-payment, for indeed they never were repaid, I entreat your lordship to take his oath; and if he swears the money was returned, I here forgive him the debt, in the presence of God.’—‘What have you to say to this charge, honest gaffer with the staff?’ said Sancho. ‘My lord,’ replied the senior, ‘I confess he lent me the money; and since he leaves the matter to my oath, if your lordship will lower your rod of justice, I will make affidavit, that I have really and truly returned, and repaid the sum I borrowed.’ The governor accordingly lowering his wand, the defendant desired the plaintiff to hold his cane until he should make oath, because it incumbered him; then laying his hand upon the cross of the rod, he declared that the other had indeed lent him those ten crowns which he now demanded; but that he, the borrower, had returned them into the lender’s own hand, and he supposed he dunned him in this manner, because he had forgot that circumstance. This oath being administered, the great governor asked what farther the creditor had to say to the allegation of the other party. And he answered, that doubtless the defendant had spoke the truth; for he looked upon him as an honest man, and a good Christian; and that as he himself must have forgot the particulars of the payment, he would never demand it from thenceforward. Then the defendant, taking back his cane, and making his obeisance, quitted the court; while Sancho seeing him retire in this manner, and perceiving the resignation of the plaintiff, hung down his head a little, and laying the fore-finger of his right-hand on one side of his nose, continued in this musing posture for a very small space of time: then, raising his head, he ordered them to call back the old man with the staff, who had retired: he was accordingly brought before Sancho; who said to him, ‘Honest friend, lend me that staff, I have occasion for it.’—‘With all my heart, my lord,’ replied the elder, reaching it to the judge: then Sancho took and delivered it to the plaintiff, saying: ‘Now, go your ways, a God’s name! you are fully paid.’—‘How, my lord!’ said the old man, ‘is this cane then worth ten crowns of Gold?’—‘Yes,’ replied the governor, ‘otherwise I am the greatest dunce in nature: and now it shall appear, whether or not I have a noddle sufficient to govern a whole kingdom.’ So saying, he ordered the cane to be broke in publick; and when, in consequence of his command, it was split asunder, ten crowns of gold were found in the heart of it, to the astonishment of all the spectators, who looked upon their new governor as another Solomon. When he was asked how he could conceive that the money was in the cane, he answered, that seeing the deponent give his staff to the other party before he made oath, then hearing him declare that he had really and truly returned the money; and lastly, perceiving that after his deposition he took back the staff, it came into his head that the money was concealed within the cane. And in this instance, we see that governors, though otherwise fools, are sometimes directed in their decisions by the hand of God: besides, Sancho had heard such a story told by the curate of his village, and his memory was so tenacious, in retaining every thing he wanted to remember, that there was not such another in the whole island. Finally, the two old men went away: the one overwhelmed with shame, and the other miraculously repaid; the by-standers were astonished; and he whose province it was to record the sayings, actions, and conduct of Sancho, could not determine in his own mind, whether he should regard and report him as a simpleton, or a sage.

[Illustration: Governor Sancho Panza and the Woman.]

This suit being determined, a woman came into court, holding fast by a man habited like a rich herdsman, and exclaiming with great vociferation, ‘Justice, my lord governor, justice! which, if I find not on earth, I will go in quest of to heaven! My lord governor of my soul, this wicked man has forced me in the middle of a field, and made use of my body as if it had been a dirty dishclout: alack, and a-well-a-day! he has robbed me of that which I had preserved for three and twenty years, in spite of Moors and Christians, natives and foreigners: and have I, who was always as hard as a cork-tree, maintained my virtue entire, like a salamander in the midst of flames, or wool among brambles, to be handled by the clean hands of this Robin Goodfellow?’—‘That must be enquired into,’ said Sancho, ‘whether the gallant’s hands be clean or no.’ Then turning to the man, he asked what he had to say to the complaint of that woman? To this question the culprit replied, with great perturbation, ‘My lord, I am a poor herdsman who deal in swine, and this morning went to market, saving your presence, with some hogs, and the duties and extortions, and one thing and another, ran away with almost all they were worth; and so, in my return, I lighted on this honest damsel on the road; and the devil, who will always meddle and make, and have a finger in every pye, yoked us together. I paid her handsomely; but she, not satisfied, laid fast hold on me, nor would she quit her hold until she had brought me hither: she alledges I forced her; but, by the oath I have taken, or am to take, she lyes; and this is the whole truth, without the least crumb of prevarication.’ Then the governor asked if he had any money about him; and when he owned he had a leathern purse with twenty ducats in his bosom, Sancho ordered him to pull it out, and deliver the whole to the complainant. The man obeyed this command with fear and trembling; the woman received this money, and making a thousand curtsies to all the by-standers, prayed God would preserve the life and health of my lord governor, who took such care of damsels and orphans in necessity. So saying, she went away, holding the purse with both hands, though not before she had examined the contents. Scarce had she quitted the court, when Sancho said to the herdsman, who stood with tears in his eyes, sending his heart, and many a long look after his purse, ‘Harkye, friend! go after that woman, and take the purse from her, either by fair means or force, and bring it hither to me.’ This command was not imposed upon one that was either deaf or doating; for he darted like lightning, in order to put it in execution: while all the spectators waited in suspence to see the issue of the suit. In a little time the parties returned, but more closely engaged, and clinging faster together than before; she, with her petticoat tucked up, and the purse in her lap; and he struggling, to no purpose, to take it from her; so vigorously did she defend her acquisition, crying aloud, ‘Justice, in the name of God and his creatures! Take notice, my lord governor, of the impudence and presumption of this miscreant, who, in the very face of the people, and the middle of the street, wanted to rob me of the purse which I received by your lordship’s decree.’—‘Has he taken it from you, then?’ said the governor. ‘Taken it from me!’ replied the wench; ‘I’ll sooner part with my life than with my purse. I should be a precious ninny indeed! otherguise cats must scratch my beard, and not such a pitiful muckworm as he. Pincers and hammers, mallets and chissels, should not tear it out of my clutches; no, not the claws of a lion; my soul and body shall rather be tore asunder.’—‘It is even so,’ said the man; ‘I submit as the weaker vessel, and own I have not strength enough to recover my purse.’ He quitted her accordingly. Then the governor said to the woman, ‘Come hither, my virtuous and spirited dame; let me see thy purse.’ Which, when she delivered it, he restored to the man; and turning to the wench, who was too forceful to be forced, ‘Sister of mine,’ quoth he, ‘if you had exerted the same vigour and perseverance, or even half so much, in preserving your chastity, as you have shewn in defending the purse, the force of Hercules would not have forced you. Be gone, a-God’s name! be gone, I say, with a vengeance, and never more appear in this island, or within six leagues of it, on pain of receiving two hundred stripes. Be gone immediately, you chattering, shameless impostor!’ The woman, terrified at his menaces, sneaked off, hanging her head, and discontented; and the governor spoke to the man in these words: ‘Honest friend, get you home with your money, in the name of God; and unless you are inclined to lose it again, from henceforward avoid all temptations to yoke with any woman whatsoever.’

The herdsman thanked him as sheepishly as he could, and went away, and the audience were struck with admiration afresh, at the judgment and decisions of their new governor; every circumstance of which being recorded by his historiographer, was immediately communicated to the duke, who waited for the account with the utmost impatience.

But here let honest Sancho rest a little; for we are summoned in all haste by his master, who is greatly disturbed by the musick of Altisidora.

Footnote 187:

_Barato_, signifies cheap.

CHAP. XIV. OF THE DREADFUL CONSTERNATION, AND CATTISH CONCERT, TO WHICH DON QUIXOTE WAS EXPOSED, IN THE COURSE OF THE ENAMOURED ALTISIDORA’S AMOUR.

We left the great Don Quixote wrapped up in those cogitations that were suggested by the musick of the enamoured damsel Altisidora. With these companions he crept into bed; but, as if they had been fleas and vermin, they would not suffer him to sleep, or indeed enjoy a moment’s re