HOW SANCHO PANZA WAS CONDUCTED TO HIS GOVERNMENT; AND OF
THE STRANGE ADVENTURE THAT BEFELL DON QUIXOTE IN THE CASTLE
Before Sancho departed for his island--which was in reality a village
belonging to his new master's duchy, and surrounded by land on all
sides--Don Quixote wrote out carefully the advice he had given him in
the morning of the same day. To escort the new governor to the village
the Duke had chosen the majordomo, who had played the part of the
Countess Trifaldi; and the moment Sancho saw his face and heard him
speak, he confided to his master the resemblance in voice and
appearance.
Always suspicious of enchanters, Don Quixote bade his late squire to
keep a sharp eye on the man, and to be sure to inform him whether
anything happened that confirmed his suspicion.
Then Sancho was dressed in the garb of a lawyer and mounted on a mule.
Dapple followed behind with new trappings, and Sancho was so pleased
with the appearance of Dapple that he could not help turning around
from time to time to look at him. Don Quixote wept when it came to the
leave-taking, and Sancho kissed devotedly the hands of the Duchess and
the Duke.
But as soon as Sancho had left, Don Quixote felt a great loneliness in
his heart; and that night, after having supped with the ducal pair, he
begged to be excused early and retired to his room, saying he wanted
no servant to wait on him.
He undressed at once, and went to bed, leaving the window overlooking
the garden open. Soon he heard the voices of two young maidens, and he
was surprised to hear that they were speaking of him. One of them he
recognized as the fair Altisidora, and, persuaded by the other voice,
she commenced to serenade the knight, to whom in her song she bared
her aching heart, and the passion that burned there for him.
But the knight could not be moved. His was a love for no one but his
Dulcinea. To indicate to the young maiden that he was aware of her
intentions and could not be swayed, he rose from his bed, and went to
the window and feigned a sneeze. When that was of no avail and neither
produced reticence in the maidens nor drove them away from his window,
he sighed: "O what an unlucky knight I am that no damsel can set eyes
on me but falls in love with me!" And he went on to bewail his fate,
crying out in the night that all the empresses in the world were
jealous of the love he bore in his heart for the sweet Dulcinea, and
saying that he must and would remain hers, pure, courteous, and
chaste, in spite of all the magic-working powers on earth.
Then the worthy knight shut his window with a bang, and thrust himself
on his bed, entirely out of patience with the enticing and sinful
young maidens.