IN WHICH CAMACHO'S WEDDING IS CONTINUED, WITH OTHER
DELIGHTFUL INCIDENTS
Sancho was still eating when suddenly loud exclamations and shouts
were heard; and when he and Don Quixote looked to see what was the
matter, they found that the bride and the bridegroom, accompanied by
the priest and their relatives, were entering the arcade. They
proceeded to a platform, on which they took places, and all noticed
that the bride looked very pale. Scarcely had the bridal party seated
themselves, when a voice was heard from behind them, calling out:
"Wait a little, ye, as inconsiderate as ye are hasty!"
All turned and perceived Basilio, poorly clad, with a crown of cypress
on his head, and carrying a staff in his hand. The staff had a sharp
end, and this he buried deep in the ground; then, pale and trembling,
he turned to the fair Quiteria and accused her of marrying Camacho
because of his wealth, though she knew she loved no one but himself,
Basilio, who was poor, and, therefore, helpless. As he nevertheless
wished them happiness, he would now remove the last obstacle to this
end.
So saying, Basilio pulled from the staff he carried and which served
as a sheath, a rapier, upon which in another instant he had thrown
himself. There he lay on the ground, bleeding profusely, the point of
the blade appearing through his back, when his many friends came
running to give him aid. Don Quixote lifted up his head, and they
found that he was still breathing. Some one suggested that they pull
out the blade, but the priest warned them not to do that before the
poor man had been given the sacrament, as the moment the rapier was
removed, death would follow.
Just then Basilio was heard to say in a weak voice that if he could
only be joined to his beloved one, he would die happy. The priest
cautioned him to think of his soul rather than of his body in these
last moments of his, but Basilio interrupted him stubbornly and said
he would not confess until this had been done. When Don Quixote heard
the dying man implore the priest to carry out his wish, he, too,
besought him, and added that under the circumstances Senor Camacho
could have nothing against marrying a widow of a man who had died so
gallantly and honorably as Basilio. Camacho heard all this, and when
Basilio's friends at the same time entreated him to think of the poor
man's soul, he consented; and as Quiteria, too, was compassionate, the
priest united them as man and wife, gave them his blessing with tears
in his eyes, and hoped that Heaven would receive the soul of the
wedded man.
But the instant the ceremony was at an end, the suicide jumped to his
feet as lightly as a deer. Some began to shout that a miracle had been
performed. But Basilio was honest and confessed that he had played a
trick; and, indeed, it seemed as if the whole thing had been planned
by the two lovers, for Quiteria said that if the marriage was not
valid, she would now confirm it anew. Some of Camacho's friends became
violent and threatened the life of Basilio, but the valiant Don
Quixote did not abandon his new-found friend; he kept them all at a
distance with his lance and his sword.
In the meantime Sancho was guarding a spot that to his mind was the
most important one there, namely where the wine-jars were standing.
When Don Quixote had made himself respected by the followers of the
rich Camacho, he addressed them on the subject of love and war, and
held forth to them that all means to an end in these two games were
justifiable, as long as no disgrace was brought on the object of one's
love. Then he threatened to thrash any one who attempted to separate
whom God now had joined; and they were all awed by his resolute
language, not knowing who he was. Camacho showed that he was of good
mettle, however, for he invited all to remain and have a merry time,
and let the feast go on as if nothing had happened.
But Basilio was proud, and so were his friends, and they preferred to
withdraw to Basilio's village. They were accompanied by Don Quixote,
whom they had invited as a special guest of honor because of his stout
defense of Basilio; and Sancho, of course, had to trail along, much to
his disgust, for he had looked forward to stilling his hunger for days
to come on the remnants of the rich man's wedding-feast. As he was
rocking to and fro in his seat on his faithful Dapple, he was
contemplating with a surly and melancholy countenance a glorious, but
now past day.