_Of the wonderful things which the unparalleled Don Quixote declared
he had seen in the deep cave of Montesinos, the greatness and
impossibility of which make this adventure pass for apocryphal._
It was now past four in the afternoon, and the sun was opportunely hid
behind the clouds, which, interposing between his rays, invited Don
Quixote, without heat or trouble, to relate the wonders he had seen in
Montesinos' cave.
"About twelve or fourteen men's depth," said he, "in the profundity of
this cavern, on the right hand, there is a concavity wide enough to
contain a large waggon, mules and all. This place is not wholly dark,
for through some chinks and narrow holes, that reach to the distant
surface of the earth, there comes a glimmering light. I discovered
this recess, being already weary of hanging by the loins, discouraged
by the profound darkness of the region below me, destitute of a guide,
and not knowing whither I went: resolving therefore to rest myself
there a while, I called to you to give me no more rope, but it seems
you did not hear me. I therefore entered, and coiling up the cord, sat
upon it very melancholy, and thinking how I should most conveniently
get down to the bottom, having nobody to guide or support me. While I
thus sat pensive, and lost in thought, insensibly, without any
previous drowsiness, I found myself surprised by sleep; and after
that, not knowing how, nor which way I wakened, I unexpectedly found
myself in the finest and most delightful meadow, that ever nature
adorned with her beauties, or the most inventive fancy could ever
imagine. Now, that I might be sure this was neither a dream nor an
allusion, I rubbed my eyes, felt several parts of my body, and
convinced myself that I was really awake, with the use of all my
senses, and all the faculties of my understanding sound and active as
at this moment.
"Presently I discovered a sumptuous palace, of which the walls seemed
all of transparent crystal. The spacious gates opening, there came out
towards me a venerable old man, clad in a sad-coloured robe, so long
that it swept the ground; on his breast and shoulders he had a green
satin tippet, after the manner of those worn in colleges. On his head
he wore a black Milan cap, and his broad hoary beard reached down
below his middle. He had no kind of weapon in his hands, but a rosary
of beads about the bigness of walnuts, and his credo beads appeared as
large as ordinary ostrich-eggs. The awful and grave aspect, the pace,
the port and goodly presence of this old man, each of them apart, and
much more altogether, struck me with veneration and astonishment. He
came up to me, and, without any previous ceremony, embracing me close,
'It is a long time,' said he, 'most renowned knight, Don Quixote de la
Mancha, that we who dwell in this enchanted solitude have hoped to see
you here; that you may inform the upper world of the surprising
prodigies concealed from human knowledge in this subterranean hollow,
called the cave of Montesinos,--an enterprise reserved alone for your
insuperable heart, and stupendous resolution. Go with me then, thou
most illustrious knight, and behold the wonders enclosed within the
transparent castle, of which I am the perpetual governor and chief
warden, being the same individual Montesinos from whom this cavern
took its name.'
"No sooner had the reverend old man let me know who he was, but I
entreated him to tell me, whether it was true or no, that, at his
friend Durandarte's dying request, he had taken out his heart with a
small dagger, the very moment he expired, and carried it to his
mistress Belerma, as the story was current in the world? 'It is
literally true,' answered the old gentleman, 'except that single
circumstance of the dagger; for I used neither a small nor a large
dagger on this occasion, but a well-polished poniard, as sharp as an
awl.'
"The venerable Montesinos having conducted me into the crystal palace,
led me into a spacious ground-room, exceeding cool, and all of
alabaster. In the middle of it stood a marble tomb, that seemed a
masterpiece of art; upon it lay a knight extended all at length, not
of stone or brass, as on other monuments, but pure flesh and bones: he
covered the region of his heart with his right hand, which seemed to
me very full of sinews, a sign of the great strength of the body to
which it belonged. Montesinos, observing that I viewed this spectacle
with surprise, 'Behold,' said he, 'the flower and mirror of all the
living and valiant knights of his age, my friend Durandarte, who,
together with me and many others, of both sexes, are kept here
enchanted by Merlin the British magician. Here, I say, we are
enchanted; but how and for what cause no man can tell, though time, I
hope, will shortly reveal it. But the most wonderful part of my
fortune is this; I am as certain, as that the sun now shines, that
Durandarte died in my arms; and that with these hands I took out his
heart, which weighed above two pounds, a sure mark of his courage;
for, by the rules of natural philosophy, the most valiant men have
still the biggest hearts. Nevertheless, though this knight really
died, he still complains and sighs sometimes as if he were alive.'
"Scarce had Montesinos spoke these words, but the miserable Durandarte
cried out aloud, 'Oh! cousin Montesinos, the last and dying request of
your departing friend, was to take my heart out of my breast with a
poniard or a dagger, and carry it to Belerma.' The venerable Montesinos,
hearing this, fell on his knees before the afflicted knight, and with
tears in his eyes, 'Long, long ago,' said he, 'Durandarte, thou dearest
of my kinsmen, have I performed what you enjoined me on that bitter fatal
day when you expired. I took out your heart with all imaginable care, and
hasted away with it to France, as soon as I had committed your dear
remains to the bosom of the earth. To confirm this truth yet farther, at
the first place where I stopped from Roncesvalles, I laid a little salt
upon your heart, to preserve it, till I presented it into the hands of
Belerma, who, with you and me, and Guadiana[13] your squire, as also
Ruydera (the lady's woman) with her seven daughters, her two nieces, and
many others of your friends and acquaintance, is here confined by the
necromantic charms of the magician Merlin; and though it be now above
five hundred years since we were first conveyed into this enchanted
castle, we are still alive, except Ruydera, her daughters and nieces, who
by the favour of Merlin, that pitied their tears, were turned into so
many lakes, still extant in the world of the living, and in the province
of La Mancha, distinguished by the name of the lakes of Ruydera. But now
I have other news to tell you, which, though perhaps it may not assuage
your sorrows, yet I am sure it will not increase them. Open your eyes,
and behold in your presence that mighty knight, of whom Merlin the sage
has foretold so many wonders: that Don Quixote de la Mancha, I mean, who
has not only restored to the world the function of knight-errantry, that
has lain so long in oblivion, but advanced it to greater fame than it
could boast in any former age. It is by his power that we may expect to
see the charm dissolved, which keeps us here confined; for great
performances are properly reserved for great personages.' 'And should it
not be so?' answered the grieving Durandarte, with a faint and
languishing voice,--'should it not be so, I say? Oh! cousin, patience,
and shuffle the cards.' Then turning on one side, without speaking a word
more, he relapsed into his usual silence.
[13] Guadiana, a river in Spain, that sinks into the earth, and rises
again a great distance off.
"After this I was alarmed with piteous howling and crying, which,
mixed with lamentable sighs and groans, obliged me to turn about to
see whence it proceeded. Then through the crystal wall I saw a
mournful procession of most beautiful damsels, all in black, marching
in two ranks, with turbans on their heads after the Turkish fashion;
and last of all came a majestic lady, dressed also in mourning, with a
long white veil that reached from her head down to the ground. Her
turban was twice as big as the biggest of the rest. She was somewhat
beetle-browed, her nose was flattish, her mouth wide, but her lips
red; her teeth, which she sometimes discovered, seemed to be thin, but
as white as blanched almonds. She held a fine handkerchief, and within
it I could perceive a heart of flesh, so dry and withered, that it
looked like mummy. Montesinos informed me that the procession
consisted of Durandarte's and Belerma's servants, who were enchanted
there with their master and mistress; but that the last was Belerma
herself, who with her attendants used four days in the week constantly
thus to sing their dirges over the heart and body of his cousin; and
that though Belerma appeared a little haggard at that juncture,
occasioned by the grief she bore in her own heart, for that which she
carried in her hand; yet had I seen her before her misfortunes had
sunk her eyes and tarnished her complexion, I must have owned, that
even the celebrated Dulcinea del Toboso, so famous in La Mancha, and
over the whole universe, could scarce have vied with her in
gracefulness and beauty.
"Hold there, good Signor Don Montesinos, said I. You know that
comparisons are odious, therefore no more comparing, I beseech you;
but go on with your story. The peerless Dulcinea del Toboso is what
she is, and the Lady Belerma is what she is, and has been: so no more
upon that subject. 'I beg your pardon,' answered Montesinos; 'Signor
Don Quixote, I might have guessed that you were the Lady Dulcinea's
knight, and therefore I ought to have bit my tongue off, sooner than
to have compared her to any thing lower than heaven itself.' This
satisfaction, which I thought sufficient from the great Montesinos,
stifled the resentment I else had shewn, for hearing my mistress
compared to Belerma." "Nay, marry," quoth Sancho, "I wonder you did
not give the old fellow a hearty kicking! How could you leave one hair
on his chin?" "No, no, Sancho," answered Don Quixote, "there is always
a respect due to our seniors, though they be no knights; but most
when they are such, and under the oppression of enchantment. However,
I am satisfied that in what discourse passed between us, I took care
not to have anything that looked like an affront fixed upon me." "But,
sir," asked the scholar, "how could you see and hear so many strange
things in so little time? I cannot conceive how you could do it." "How
long," said Don Quixote, "do you reckon that I have been in the cave?"
"A little above an hour," answered Sancho. "That is impossible," said
Don Quixote, "for I saw morning and evening, and evening and morning,
three times since; so that I could not be absent less than three days
from this upper world." "Ay, ay," quoth Sancho, "my master is in the
right; for these enchantments, that have the greatest share in all his
concerns, may make that seem three days and three nights to him, which
is but an hour to other people." "It must be so," said Don Quixote. "I
hope, sir," said the scholar, "you have eaten something in all that
time." "Not one morsel," replied Don Quixote; "neither have had the
least desire to eat, or so much as thought of it all the while." "Do
not they that are enchanted sometimes eat?" asked the scholar. "They
never do," answered Don Quixote. "Do they never sleep neither?" said
Sancho. "Never," said Don Quixote; "at least they never closed their
eyes while I was among them, nor I neither." "This makes good the
saying," quoth Sancho, "'tell me thy company, and I will tell thee
what thou art.' Troth! you have all been enchanted together. No wonder
if you neither eat nor slept, since you were in the land of those that
always watch and fast. But, sir, would you have me speak as I think;
and pray do not take it in ill part, for if I believe one word of all
you have said----" "What do you mean, friend?" said the student. "Do
you think the noble Don Quixote would be guilty of a lie? and if he
had a mind to stretch a little, could he, think you, have had leisure
to frame such a number of stories in so short a time?" "I do not think
that my master would lie neither," said Sancho. "What do ye think
then, sir?" said Don Quixote. "Well truly, sir," quoth Sancho, "I do
believe that this same cunning man, this Merlin, that bewitched or
enchanted, as you call it, all that rabble of people you talk of, may
have crammed and enchanted some way or other, all that you have told
us, and have yet to tell us, into your noddle." "It is not impossible
but such a thing may happen," said Don Quixote, "though I am convinced
it was otherwise with me; for I am positive that I saw with these
eyes, and felt with these hands, all I have mentioned. But what will
you think when I tell you, among many wonderful things, that I saw
three country-girls leaping and skipping about those pleasant fields
like so many wild-goats; and at first sight knew one of them to be the
peerless Dulcinea, and the other two the very same we spoke to not far
from Toboso. I asked Montesinos if he knew them? He answered in the
negative; but imagined them some enchanted ladies, who were newly
come, and that the appearance of strange faces was no rarity among
them, for many of the past ages and the present were enchanted there,
under several disguises; and that, among the rest, he knew Queen
Guinever and her woman Quintaniona, that officiated as Sir Lancelot's
cup-bearer, as he came from Britain."
Sancho hearing his master talk at this rate, had like to have forgot
himself, and burst out a-laughing; for he well knew that Dulcinea's
enchantment was all a fiction, and that he himself was the chief
magician, and raiser of the story; and thence, concluding his master
stark mad, "In an ill hour," quoth he, "dear master of mine, and in a
woful day, went your worship down to the other world; and in a worse
hour met you with that plaguy Montesinos, that has sent you back in
this rueful pickle. You went hence in your right senses; could talk
prettily enough now and then; had your handsome proverbs and wise
sayings every foot, and would give wholesome counsel to all that would
take it; but now, bless me! you talk as if you had left your brains in
the devil's cellar." "I know thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and
therefore I regard thy words as little as possible." "And I yours,"
replied Sancho: "nay, you may cripple, lame, or kill me, if you
please, either for what I have said, or mean to say; I, must speak my
mind, though I die for it." "While Montesinos and I were thus talking
together," continued the knight, "a very odd accident, the thoughts of
which trouble me still, broke off our conversation. For as we were in
the height of our discourse, who should come to me but one of the
unfortunate Dulcinea's companions; and before I was aware, with a
faint and doleful voice, 'Sir,' said she, 'my Lady Dulcinea del Toboso
gives her service to you, and desires to know how you do; and being a
little short of money at present, she desires you, of all love and
kindness, to lend her six reals, or more or less as you can spare it,
sir, and she will take care to redeem it very honestly in a little
time.'
"The message surprised me strangely; and therefore, turning to
Montesinos, 'Is it possible, sir,' said I, 'that persons of quality,
when enchanted, are in want?' 'O! very possible, sir,' said he;
'poverty rages everywhere, and spares neither quality enchanted nor
unenchanted; and therefore, since the Lady Dulcinea desires you to
lend her these six reals, let her have the money; for sure it is very
low with her at this time.' 'But my misfortune,' said I, 'is, that I
cannot answer the full request; for I have but four reals about me;'
and that was the money thou gavest me the other day, Sancho, to
distribute among the poor. However, I gave her all I had, and desired
her to tell her mistress, I was very sorry for her wants; and that if
I had all the treasures which Croesus possessed, they should be at
her service; and withal, that I died every hour for want of her
reviving company; and made it my humble and earnest request, that she
would vouchsafe to see and converse with her captive servant and
weather-beaten knight. 'Tell her,' continued I, 'when she least
expects it, she will come to hear how I made a vow, as the Marquis of
Mantua did, when he found his nephew Baldwin ready to expire on the
mountain, never to eat upon a tablecloth, and several other
particulars, till he had avenged his death; so, in the like solemn
manner will I swear, never to desist from traversing the habitable
globe, and ranging through all the seven parts of the world, more
indefatigably than ever was done by Prince Pedro of Portugal, till I
have freed her from her enchantment.' 'All this and more you owe my
mistress,' said the damsel; and then, having got the four reals,
instead of dropping me a curtsy, she cut me a caper in the air two
yards high."
"Who," exclaimed Sancho, "could ever have believed that these
enchanters and enchantments should have so much power as to bewitch my
master at this rate, and craze his sound understanding in this manner?
Alas! sir, for the love of Heaven take care of yourself. What will the
world say of you? Rouse up your dozing senses, and do not dote upon
those whimsies that have so wretchedly cracked that rare head-piece of
yours." "Well," said Don Quixote, "I cannot be angry at thy ignorant
tittle-tattle, because it proceeds from thy love towards me. Thou
thinkest, poor fellow, that whatever is beyond the sphere of thy
narrow comprehension must be impossible; but, as I have already said,
there will come a time when I shall give thee an account of some
things I have seen below, that will convince thee of the reality of
those I told thee now, the truth of which admits of no dispute."