WHICH DEALS WITH THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENCHANTED HEAD,
TOGETHER WITH OTHER TRIVIAL MATTERS WHICH CANNOT BE LEFT UNTOLD
The cavalier turned out to be one Don Antonio Moreno, a gentleman with
a great sense of humor, well read and rich. As soon as Don Quixote had
entered the house, Don Antonio persuaded him to discard the suit of
armor; then he took him out on the balcony, where he at once attracted
all the boys in the street and crowds of people, who gazed at him as
if he had been a monkey. The cavaliers passed in review before the
balcony, and the knight was given the impression that it was in his
special honor they were bedecked as they were, for he did not realize
that it was a holiday. Sancho was delighted beyond description. He was
treated royally by the servants, who thought that they had never met
any one quite as amusing as he. Don Antonio's friends were all
instructed to pay homage to Don Quixote and at all times to address
him as if he were a knight errant.
The flattery and honors were too much for the poor knight: they turned
his head completely, and he became puffed up with his own importance.
Sancho, too, amused Don Antonio and his guests exceedingly, and they
enjoyed particularly hearing about his escapades as governor.
After dinner that day, the host took Don Quixote into a distant room,
which contained no furniture except a table, on which was a pedestal
supporting a head made of what seemed to be bronze. After having acted
in the most mysterious manner, and having carefully ascertained that
all the doors to the room were shut and no one listening, Antonio
swore the knight to secrecy. Then he proceeded to tell Don Quixote
that the head he saw there before him had been made by a Polish
magician, and possessed the magic faculty of being able to answer any
question whispered into its ear. Only on certain days, however, did
its magic assert itself, and the following day, which was the day
after Friday--it had been astrologically worked out--would again
witness the miracle. Don Antonio asked the knight whether there was
anything he should especially like to ask the head; if so, he could
put the question to it on the morrow. Don Quixote seemed sceptical,
but made no comment, and they returned to the other guests.
In the afternoon the knight errant was placed on a tall mule, bedecked
with beautiful trimmings, and himself encased in a heavy and
uncomfortably warm garb of yellow cloth; then, unbeknown to him, they
pinned on his back a parchment with this inscription in large letters:
THIS IS DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA.
As they were parading through the streets the knight's vanity swelled
more and more, for from every nook and corner there came great shouts
of recognition. Soon he was unable to restrain his vainglorious
nature, and he turned to his host and remarked to him with much
satisfaction: "Great are the privileges knight-errantry involves, for
it makes him who professes it known and famous in every region of the
earth. See, Don Antonio, even the very boys of this city know me
without ever having seen me." Finally the crowds increased so that Don
Antonio was obliged to remove the parchment, and soon they had to take
refuge in his house.
In the evening Don Antonio's wife gave a dance, and it was amusing to
see the tall and lank hero move about on the ballroom floor; the men
gave him the opportunity to dance every dance, for they themselves
enjoyed watching him better than dancing. At last Don Quixote was so
exhausted both by the dancing and by the lovemaking that the ladies
had imposed on him--and how they delighted in hearing him avow his
great love for Dulcinea--that Sancho had to take him to his room and
put him to bed.
The next day Don Antonio took his wife, Don Quixote, and a few
intimate friends into the secret chamber, and after many mysterious
preliminaries, the questioning of the head began. All seemed
particularly interested in what Don Quixote would have to ask, and
felt rewarded when his turn came, for this is what he demanded: "Tell
me, thou that answerest, was that which happened to me in the cave of
Montesinos the truth or a dream? Will my squire Sancho's whipping be
accomplished without fail? Will the disenchantment of Dulcinea be
brought about?"
In a mysterious voice that seemed to come from a great distance, the
head returned these answers: "As to the question of the cave, there is
much to be said; there is something of both in it. Sancho's whipping
will proceed leisurely. The disenchantment of Dulcinea will attain its
due consummation."
Don Quixote heaved a sigh and declared that if only his peerless one
were disenchanted, it would be all the good fortune he could wish for.
Then Sancho tried his luck; but at the conclusion of Sancho's audience
with the head, he did not seem properly awed, and his master became
displeased with his pretentious expectations and reprimanded him
severely in the presence of the whole company.
All the while Sancho's incessant talking and his master's exalted
behavior kept every one in an uproarious humor. The joke that Don
Antonio had arranged consisted in having a student, a young nephew of
Don Antonio's, placed in a chamber underneath the one in which the
head was, to receive the questions and speak the replies through a
tube that led from the inside of the head to the room below. Soon
after this form of amusement had taken place, it was agreed upon by
the gentlemen of the city to arrange for a tilting at the ring, for
they were convinced that such an exhibition would afford greater
opportunities for mirth and laughter than anything else they might
think of.
One day Don Quixote and Sancho, accompanied by two of Don Antonio's
servants, were walking on foot through the city, when they suddenly
passed a printing shop; and, never having seen one, the knight entered
with Sancho and the servants. He was as curious as usual, and asked
the printer innumerable questions about the books that he was
printing. He saw some of the printers reading the proofs of a book,
and he turned to them and inquired what the title of the book was.
They told him it was the Second Part of "The Ingenious Gentleman Don
Quixote of La Mancha," adding that it was written by a certain person
of Tordesillas. Upon hearing this, Don Quixote grew quite cold in his
demeanor, and having moralized that fiction resembling truth is always
greater than absurdly untruthful stories, he uttered a hope that the
book would be burned to ashes. And then he turned his back on the
astonished men and left the shop in great haste.