_Of the new and agreeable adventure that befell the Priest and the
Barber, and of the beautiful Dorothea._
"Alas, is it possible that I have at last found out a place which will
afford a private grave to this miserable body, whose load I so repine
to bear? Yes, if the silence and solitude of these deserts do not
deceive me, here I may die concealed from human eyes. Ah me! ah
wretched creature! to what extremity has affliction driven me, reduced
to think these hideous woods and rocks a kind retreat! It is true,
indeed, I may here freely complain to Heaven, and beg for that relief
which I might ask in vain of false mankind; for it is vain, I find, to
seek below either counsel, ease, or remedy."
[Illustration: DON QUIXOTE. P. 96.]
The curate and his company, hearing all this distinctly, and
conceiving they must be near the person who thus expressed his grief,
rose to find him out. They had not gone above twenty paces before they
spied a youth in a country habit, sitting at the foot of a rock behind
an ash-tree; but they could not well see his face, being bowed almost
upon his knees, as he sat washing his feet in a rivulet that glided
by. They approached him so softly that he did not perceive them; and
as he was gently paddling in the clear water, they had time to discern
that his legs were as white as alabaster, and so taper, so curiously
proportioned, and so fine, that nothing of the kind could appear more
beautiful. Our observers were amazed at this discovery, rightly
imagining that such tender feet were not used to trudge in rugged
ways, or measure the steps of oxen at the plough, the common
employments of people in such apparel; and therefore the curate, who
went before the rest, whose curiosity was heightened by this sight,
beckoned to them to step aside, and hide themselves behind some of the
little rocks that were by; which they did, and from thence making a
stricter observation, they found he had on a grey double-skirted
jerkin, girt tight about his body with a linen towel. He wore also a
pair of breeches, and gamashes of grey cloth, and a grey huntsman's
cap on his head. His gamashes were now pulled up to the middle of his
leg, which really seemed to be of snowy alabaster. Having made an end
of washing his beauteous feet, he immediately wiped them with a
handkerchief, which he pulled out from under his cap; and with that
looking up, he discovered so charming a face, so accomplished a
beauty, that Cardenio could not forbear saying to the curate, that
since this was not Lucinda, it was certainly no human form, but an
angel. And then the youth taking off his cap, and shaking his head, an
incredible quantity of lovely hair flowed down upon his shoulders, and
not only covered them, but almost all his body; by which they were
now convinced that what they at first took to be a country lad was a
young woman, and one of the most beautiful creatures in the world.
Cardenio was not less surprised than the other two, and once more
declared that no face could vie with hers but Lucinda's. To part her
dishevelled tresses she only used her slender fingers, and at the same
time discovered so fine a pair of arms, and hands so white and lovely,
that our three admiring gazers grew more impatient to know who she
was, and moved forward to accost her. At the noise they made, the
pretty creature started; and peeping through her hair, which she
hastily removed from before her eyes with both her hands, she no
sooner saw three men coming towards her, but in a mighty fright she
snatched up a little bundle that lay by her, and fled as fast as she
could, without so much as staying to put on her shoes, or do up her
hair. But, alas, scarce had she gone six steps, when, her tender feet
not being able to endure the rough encounter of the stones, the poor
affrighted fair fell on the hard ground; so that those from whom she
fled hastened to help her. "Stay, madam," cried the curate, "whoever
you be, you have no reason to fly; we have no other design but to do
you service." With that, approaching her, he took her by the hand; and
perceiving she was so disordered with fear and confusion that she
could not answer a word, he strove to compose her mind with kind
expressions. "Be not afraid, madam," continued he; "though your hair
has betrayed what your disguise concealed from us, we are but the more
disposed to assist you, and do you all manner of service. Then pray
tell us how we may best do it. I imagine it was no slight occasion
that made you obscure your singular beauty under so unworthy a
disguise, and venture into this desert, where it was the greatest
chance in the world that ever you met with us. However, we hope it is
not impossible to find a remedy for your misfortunes, since there are
none which reason and time will not at last surmount; and therefore,
madam, if you have not absolutely renounced all human comfort, I
beseech you to tell us the cause of your affliction, and assure
yourself we do not ask this out of mere curiosity, but from a real
desire to serve you, and assuage your grief."
While the curate endeavoured thus to remove the trembling fair one's
apprehension, she stood amazed, without speaking a word, looking
sometimes at one, sometimes at another, like one scarce well awake, or
like an ignorant clown who happens to see some strange sight. But at
last, the curate having given her time to recollect herself, and
persisting in his earnest and civil entreaties, she sighed deeply, and
then unclosing her lips, broke silence in the following manner: "Since
this desert has not been able to conceal me, it would be needless now
for me to dissemble with you; and since you desire to hear the story
of my misfortunes, I cannot in civility deny you, after all the
obliging offers you have been pleased to make me; but yet, gentlemen,
I am much afraid what I have to say will but make you sad, and afford
you little satisfaction; for you will find my disasters are not to be
remedied. There is one thing that troubles me yet more; it shocks my
nature to think I must be forced to reveal to you some secrets which I
had a design to have buried in my grave; but yet, considering the garb
and the place you have found me in, I fancy it will be better for me
to tell you all than to give occasion to doubt of my past conduct and
my present designs by an affected reservedness." The disguised lady
having made this answer with a modest blush and extraordinary
discretion, the curate and his company, who now admired her the more
for her sense, renewed their kind offers and pressing solicitations;
and then they courteously let her retire a moment to some distance to
put herself in decent order. Which done she returned, and, being all
seated on the grass, after she had used no small effort to restrain
her tears, she thus began her story.
"I was born in a certain town of Andalusia, from which a duke takes
his title that makes him a grandee of Spain. This duke had two sons,
the eldest heir to his estate, and, as it may be presumed, of his
virtues; the youngest heir to nothing I know of but treachery and
deceitfulness. My father, who is one of his vassals, is but of low
degree; but so very rich, that had fortune equalled his birth to his
estate, he could have wanted nothing more, and I, perhaps, had never
been so miserable; for I verily believe my not being of noble blood is
the chief occasion of my distress. True it is, my parents are not so
meanly born as to have any cause to be ashamed, nor so high as to
alter the opinion I have that my misfortune proceeds from their
lowness. It is true, they have been farmers from father to son, yet
without any scandal or stain. They are honest old-fashioned Christian
Spaniards, and the antiquity of their family, together with their
large possessions, raises them much above their profession, and has by
little and little almost universally gained them the name of
gentlemen, setting them, in a manner, equal to many such in the
world's esteem. As I am their only child, they loved me with the
utmost tenderness; and their great affection made them esteem
themselves happier in their daughter than in the peaceable enjoyment
of their large estate. Now, as it was my good fortune to be possessed
of their love, they were pleased to trust me with their substance. The
whole house and estate was left to my management, and I took such care
not to abuse the trust reposed in me that I never forfeited their good
opinion of my discretion. The time I had to spare from the care of the
family I employed in the usual exercises of young women, sometimes
making bone-lace, or at my needle, and now and then reading some good
book, or playing on the harp,--having experienced that music was very
proper to recreate the wearied mind. While I thus lived the life of a
recluse, unseen, as I thought, by anybody but our own family, and
never leaving the house but to go to church, which was commonly
betimes in the morning, and always with my mother, and so close hid in
a veil that I could scarce find my way; notwithstanding all the care
that was taken to keep me from being seen, it was unhappily rumoured
abroad that I was handsome, and to my eternal disquiet, love intruded
into my peaceful retirement. Don Fernando, second son to the duke I
have mentioned, had a sight of me"----Scarce had Cardenio heard Don
Fernando named but he changed colour, and betrayed such a disorder of
body and mind that the curate and the barber were afraid he would have
fallen into one of those frantic fits that often used to take him;
but, by good fortune, it did not come to that, and he only set himself
to look stedfastly on the country maid, presently guessing who she
was; while she continued her story, without taking any notice of the
alteration of his countenance.
"No sooner had he seen me," said she, "but, as he since told me, he
felt in his breast that violent passion of which he afterwards gave me
so many proofs. He purchased the good will of all our servants with
private gifts; made my father a thousand kind offers of service; every
day seemed a day of rejoicing in our neighbourhood, every evening
ushered in some serenade, and the continual music was even a
disturbance in the night. He got an infinite number of love-letters
transmitted to me, I do not know by what means, every one full of
tender expressions, promises, and vows. But all this assiduous
courtship was so far from inclining my heart to a kind return, that it
rather moved my indignation, insomuch that I looked upon Don Fernando
as my greatest enemy; not but that I was well enough pleased with his
gallantry, and took a secret delight in seeing myself courted by a
person of his quality. Such demonstrations of love are never
altogether displeasing to women, and the most disdainful, in spite of
all their coyness, reserve a little complaisance in their hearts for
their admirers. But the inequality between us was too great to suffer
me to entertain any reasonable hopes, and his gallantry too singular
not to offend me. My father, who soon put the right construction upon
Don Fernando's pretensions, like a kind parent, perceiving I was
somewhat uneasy, and imagining the flattering prospect of so
advantageous a match might still amuse me, told me that if I would
marry, to rid me at once of his unjust pursuit, I should have liberty
to make my own choice of a suitable match, either in our own town or
the neighbourhood; and that he would do for me whatever could be
expected from a loving father. I humbly thanked him for his kindness,
and told him that as I had never yet had any thoughts of marriage, I
would try to rid myself of Don Fernando some other way. Accordingly, I
resolved to shun him with so much precaution that he should never have
the opportunity to speak to me; but all my reserve, far from tiring
out his passion, strengthened it the more. In short, Don Fernando,
either hearing or suspecting I was to be married, thought of a
contrivance to cross a design that was likely to cut off all his
hopes. One night, therefore, when I was in my chamber, nobody with me
but my maid, and the door double locked and bolted, that I might be
secured against the attempts of Don Fernando, whom I took to be a man
who would scruple at nothing to accomplish his ends, unexpectedly I
saw him just before me; which amazing sight so surprised me, that I
was struck dumb, and fainted away with fear. I had not power to call
for help, nor do I believe he would have given me time to have done
it, had I attempted it; for he presently ran to me, and taking me in
his arms, while I was sinking with the fright, he spoke to me in such
endearing terms, and with so much address and pretended tenderness and
sincerity, that I did not dare to cry out when I came to myself. His
sighs, and yet more his tears, seemed to me undeniable proofs of his
vowed integrity; and I being but young, bred up in perpetual
retirement from all society but my virtuous parents, and inexperienced
in those affairs, in which even the most knowing are apt to be
mistaken, my reluctancy abated by degrees, and I began to have some
sense of compassion. However, when I was pretty well recovered from my
first fright, my former resolution returned; and then, with more
courage than I thought I should have had, 'My lord,' said I, 'if at
the same time that you offer me your love, and give me such strange
demonstrations of it, you would also offer me poison and leave me to
take my choice, I would soon resolve which to accept, and convince you
by my death that my honour is dearer to me than my life. To be plain,
I can have no good opinion of a presumption that endangers my
reputation; and unless you leave me this moment, I will so effectually
make you know how much you are mistaken in me, that if you have but
the least sense of honour left, you will regret driving me to that
extremity as long as you live. I was born your vassal, but not your
slave; nor does the greatness of your birth privilege you to injure
your inferiors, or exact from me more than the duties which all
vassals pay; that excepted, I do not esteem myself less in my low
degree than you have reason to value yourself in your high rank. Do
not, then, think to awe or dazzle me with your grandeur, or fright or
force me into a base compliance; I am not to be tempted with titles,
pomp, and equipage; nor weak enough to be moved with vain sighs and
false tears. In short, my will is wholly at my father's disposal, and
I will not entertain any man as a lover but by his appointment.' 'What
do you mean, charming Dorothea?' cried the perfidious lord. 'Cannot I
be yours by the sacred title of husband? Who can hinder me, if you
will but consent to bless me on those terms? I am yours this moment,
beautiful Dorothea; I give you here my hand to be yours, and yours
alone, for ever; and let all-seeing Heaven, and this holy image here
on your oratory, witness the solemn truth.'
"In short, urged by his solicitations, I became his wife; but not long
afterwards he left me, I knew not whither. Months passed away, and in
vain I watched for his coming; yet he was in the town, and every day
amusing himself with hunting. What melancholy days and hours were
those to me! I long strove to hide my tears and so to guard my looks
that my parents might not see and inquire into the cause of my
wretchedness; but suddenly my forbearance was at an end, with all
regard to delicacy and fame, upon the intelligence reaching me that
Don Fernando was married in a neighbouring town to a beautiful young
lady, of some rank and fortune, named Lucinda."----Cardenio heard the
name of Lucinda at first only with signs of indignation, but soon
after a flood of tears burst from his eyes. Dorothea, however, pursued
her story, saying, "When this sad news reached my ears, my heart
became so inflamed with rage that I could scarcely forbear rushing
into the streets and proclaiming the baseness and treachery I had
experienced; but I became more tranquil, after forming a project which
I executed the same night. I borrowed this apparel of a shepherd swain
in my father's service, whom I entrusted with my secret, and begged
him to attend me in my pursuit of Don Fernando. He assured me it was a
rash undertaking; but finding me resolute, he said he would go with me
to the end of the world. Immediately I packed up some of my own
clothes, with money and jewels, and at night secretly left the house,
attended only by my servant and a thousand anxious thoughts, and
travelled on foot to the town, where I expected to find my husband;
impatient to arrive, if not in time to prevent his perfidy, to
reproach him for it.
"I inquired where the parents of Lucinda lived; and the first person
to whom I addressed myself told me more than I desired to hear. He
told me also that on the night that Don Fernando was married to
Lucinda, after she had pronounced the fatal Yes, she fell into a
swoon; and the bridegroom, in unclasping her bosom to give her air,
found a paper written by herself, in which she affirmed that she could
not be wife to Don Fernando, because she was already betrothed to
Cardenio (who, as the man told me, was a gentleman of the same town),
and that she had pronounced her assent to Don Fernando merely in
obedience to her parents. The paper also revealed her intention to
kill herself as soon as the ceremony was over, which was confirmed by
a poniard they found concealed upon her. Don Fernando was so enraged
to find himself thus mocked and slighted, that he seized hold of the
same poniard, and would certainly have stabbed her, had he not been
prevented by those present; whereupon he immediately quitted the
place. When Lucinda revived, she confessed to her parents the
engagement she had formed with Cardenio, who, it was suspected, had
witnessed the ceremony, and had hastened from the city in despair; for
he left a paper expressing his sense of the wrong he had suffered, and
declaring his resolution to fly from mankind for ever.
"All this was publicly known, and the general subject of conversation;
especially when it appeared that Lucinda also was missing from her
father's house--a circumstance that overwhelmed her family with grief,
but revived my hopes; for I flattered myself that Heaven had thus
interposed to prevent the completion of Don Fernando's second
marriage, in order to touch his conscience and restore him to a sense
of duty and honour.
"In this situation, undecided what course to take, I instantly left
the city, and at night took refuge among these mountains. I engaged
myself in the service of a shepherd, and have lived for some months
among these wilds, always endeavouring to be abroad, lest I should
betray myself. Yet all my care was to no purpose, for my master at
length discovered my secret. Lest I might not always find means at
hand to free myself from insult, I sought for security in flight, and
have endeavoured to hide myself among these rocks. Here, with
incessant sighs and tears, I implore Heaven to have pity on me, and
either alleviate my misery or put an end to my life in this desert,
that no traces may remain of so wretched a creature."