Accordingly, repairing to a garden, where they were to dine that day,

she communicated Sancho’s epistle to the duke, who perused it with

infinite pleasure. Here they went to dinner, and after the cloth was

taken away, and they had entertained themselves a good while with the

savoury conversation of Sancho, their ears were suddenly invaded with

the dismal sound of a fife and a hoarse unbraced drum: all the company

were startled at this confused, martial, and melancholy musick,

especially Don Quixote, whose emotion would not allow him to sit quiet.

With regard to Sancho, all that can be said is, that he was driven by

fear to his usual shelter, the sides or skirts of the duchess: for the

sound they heard was really and truly horrible and dreary. In the midst

of this confusion and surprize, which took hold on all present, they saw

two men enter the garden, in mourning-cloaks, so large and long that

they trailed upon the ground. These figures were employed in beating two

large drums, which were likewise covered with black, and they were

accompanied by a fifer as black and dismal as themselves, and followed

by a personage of gigantick stature, rolled rather than cloathed in a

cassock of the blackest hue, furnished with a train of unmeasurable

length. Over this cassock, his body was girded and crossed with a broad

black belt, from which depended an immense scymitar, with hilt and

sheath of the same sable colour. His face was covered with a black,

transparent veil, through which appeared a huge and bushy beard as white

as snow; and in walking he kept time to the sound of the drums, with

great gravity and composure. In a word, his tallness, his demeanour, his

melancholy dress, and his attendants, were sufficient to surprize, and

did surprize, all those who beheld him, without knowing the nature of

the scheme. With the said solemnity of personification he advanced in

order to kneel before the duke, who, with the rest of the company,

received him standing; but his grace would by no means hear his address

until he rose. The prodigious spectre complied with his desire and stood

upright; then unveiling his face, and displaying the largest, whitest,

thickest, and most stupendous beard that ever human eyes beheld, he

fixed his eyes upon the duke, and in a grave, sonorous voice, extracted

and discharged from his ample and dilated chest, pronounced, ‘Most high

and mighty prince, I am Trifaldin of the Snowy Beard, squire to the

Countess Trifaldi, otherwise distinguished by the appellation of the

afflicted duenna: from her I bring a message to your grace, requesting

that your magnificence would be pleased to give her leave and

opportunity to enter and declare in person her mishap; which is the

strangest and the newest that ever the most hapless imagination could

conceive; and first of all, she wants to know if the valiant and

invincible knight Don Quixote de La Mancha now resides within your

castle; for in quest of him, she is come a-foot and fasting from the

kingdom of Candaya to these your territories: a circumstance which might

and ought to be deemed a miracle, or at least effected by the power of

inchantment. She is now at the gate of this fortress or pleasure-house,

and only waits for your permission to come in.’

So saying, he hemmed; and with both hands stroaking his beard from top

to bottom, waited with great composure for the duke’s reply, which was

this: ‘Worthy Squire Trifaldin of the Snowy Beard, many days are passed

since we have been apprized of the misfortune of my Lady Countess

Trifaldi, on whom the inchanters have intailed the epithet of the

afflicted duenna; well may you, stupendous squire, desire her to come

in; and here is the valiant knight Don Quixote de La Mancha, from whose

generous disposition she may securely promise herself all manner of aid

and protection; and you may likewise give her to understand, in my name,

that if my assistance be necessary, it shall not be wanting; for I think

myself obliged to grant it, as being a knight, to which title is annexed

and belongs, that maxim of assisting the fair-sex with all our might,

especially widowed, reduced, and afflicted duennas, like her ladyship.’

Trifaldin hearing this declaration, bent his knee to the ground, and

making a signal to the fifer and drums to repeat the same note, and

resume the same pace with which they entered, he retired from the

garden, leaving the whole company astonished at his presence and

deportment.

Then the duke turning to Don Quixote, ‘In a word, renowned knight,’ said

he, ‘it is not in the power of all the clouds of ignorance and malice to

conceal or obscure the light of valour and of virtue. This observation I

make, because your excellency has been scarce six days in this castle,

when, the melancholy and afflicted come in quest of you from the most

distant and sequestered countries, not in coaches or on dromedaries, but

a-foot and fasting, confident of finding in that most valiant arm the

remedy and cure of their toils and misfortunes: thanks to your

illustrious exploits, which pervade and encircle the whole habitable

globe.’

‘My Lord Duke,’ replied the knight, ‘I wish that same pious

ecclesiastick was here at present; he, who at your grace’s table, the

other day, expressed so much ill-will and such an inveterate grudge to

knights-errant, that he might see with his own eyes whether or not such

knights are of any service in this world; or at least, be fully

convinced that the distressed and disconsolate, overwhelmed with

extraordinary woes, and enormous misfortunes, do not go for redress to

the houses of learned men, to the mansions of parish priests, nor to the

knight who never dreamed of going beyond the limits of his own estate;

nor to the idle courtier, who would rather enquire about news, that he

might have the pleasure of repeating and retailing them, than endeavour

to perform actions and exploits for others to perpetuate and record: the

redress of grievances, the support of the necessitous, the protection of

damsels, and the consolation of widows, are found in no set of people

more than in knights-errant; that I am one of these, I return infinite

thanks to Heaven, and shall cheerfully undergo whatever danger and

disgrace may befall me in the course of such an honourable exercise. Let

this duenna approach, and beg what boon she shall desire, I will commit

her cause to the strength of my arm, and the intrepid resolution of my

aspiring soul.’

CHAP. V.

IN WHICH IS CONTINUED THE FAMOUS ADVENTURE OF THE AFFLICTED DUENNA.

The duke and duchess were exceedingly rejoiced to see Don Quixote’s

behaviour correspond so well with their design. Sancho interposing, ‘I

wish,’ said he, ‘this Madam Duenna may not throw some stumbling-block in

the way of my government; for I have heard an apothecary of Toledo, who

talked like any goldfinch, observe, that nothing good could happen where

duennas interfered. Lord help us! what a spite that same apothecary had

to the whole tribe; from whence I conclude that seeing duennas of all

qualities and degrees whatsoever are offensive and impertinent, what

must those be who are afflicted, which they say is the case with this

Trifaldis[177], or three-tailed countess? for, in my country, skirts and

tails, and tails and skirts, are the same thing.’—‘Hold your tongue,

friend Sancho,’ said Don Quixote: ‘this lady, who is come in quest of me

from remote countries, cannot be one of those to whom the apothecary

alluded, especially as she is a countess; and when ladies of that rank

serve as duennas, it must be under queens and empresses; for in their

own houses they are honoured with the title of Ladyship, and have other

duennas in their service.’

To this remark Donna Rodriguez, who was present, replied, ‘My lady

duchess has duennas in her service, who might have been countesses, had

it pleased fortune; but the law’s measure is the king’s pleasure; and

let no body speak disrespectfully of duennas, especially of those who

are ancient and maidens; for although I am not of that class, I can

easily perceive and comprehend the advantage a maiden duenna has over

one that is a widow: and he that undertakes to hear us, will have no

easy talk to perform.’—‘And yet, for all that,’ replied Sancho, ‘if my

barber’s word may be taken, you duennas require so much to be shorn,

that—You had better not stir the porridge though it stick to the

pot.’—‘The squires are always our enemies,’ answered Donna Rodriguez:

‘they are imps of the antichamber, who are every minute making a jest of

us; and except when they are at prayers, which is not often the case,

their whole time is spent in back-biting, disinterring our bones, and

interring our reputation. But let met tell those moving blocks, that, in

spite of all they can do, we will live in the world, aye, in noble

families, though we should die of hunger, and clothe our delicate or

indelicate bodies with a black shroud, as they cover or shade a dunghill

with tapestry on a day of procession. In good faith! if I were allowed,

and the time required it, I could demonstrate not only to those who are

now present, but likewise to the whole world, that there is no kind of

virtue which does not center in a duenna.’—‘I believe there is reason,

and a great deal of reason, in what the worthy Donna Rodriguez

observes,’ said the duchess; ‘but she must wait for a proper opportunity

to appear in behalf of herself and other duennas, and confute the ill

opinion of that malicious apothecary, as well as to eradicate those

sentiments from the breast of the mighty Sancho Panza.’ To this remark

the squire replied: ‘Since the fumes of a governor have expelled the

vapours of a squire, I value not all the duennas upon earth a fig’s

end.’

They would have proceeded with this duennian conference, had not they

heard again the sound of the fife and drums, which announced the

entrance of the afflicted duenna. The duchess asked the duke, if it

would be proper to advance and receive her, as she was a countess and

person of quality. ‘With regard to her being a countess,’ said Sancho,

before the duke could reply, ‘it would be right for your graces to go

and receive her; but in respect to her being a duenna, I think you

should not move a step.’—‘Who taught thee to interfere in such matters?’

said Don Quixote. ‘Who, Signior?’ replied Sancho, ‘I interfere, because

I am qualified to interfere, as a squire who has learned all the

punctilios of courtesy in the school of your worship, who is the most

courteous and best-bred knight that ever the province of courtesy

produced; and in these matters, as I have heard your worship observe,

the game is as often lost by a card too many as one too few; but a word

to the wise is sufficient.’—‘It is even so as Sancho has remarked,’ said

the duke; ‘let us first see a specimen of the countess, and from that

sample consider what courtesy she deserves.’

At that instant the fifer and drummers entered as before:—and here the

author concludes this short chapter, in order to begin another with the

sequel of the same adventure, which is among the most remarkable of the

whole history.

END OF THE THIRD VOLUME.

Footnote 177:

_Faldis_, in Spain, signifies skirts.

VOLUME THE FOURTH.

PART II.

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.’