_Of the account given by the afflicted Duenna of her misfortunes._
The doleful musicians were followed by twelve duennas, in two ranks,
clad in large mourning robes, with white veils of thin muslin that
almost reached to their feet. Then came the Countess Trifaldi herself,
led by her squire Trifaldin of the White Beard. She was clad in a
robe, which, had it been napped, each grain would have been of the
size of a good ronceval-pea. The train, or tail, was divided into
three separate portions, and supported by three pages, and spread out,
making a regular mathematical figure with three angles; whence it was
conjectured she obtained the name of Trifaldi, or Three-skirts. The
twelve duennas, with the lady, advanced slowly, having their faces
covered with black veils--not transparent, like that of the squire
Trifaldin, but so thick that nothing could be seen through them. Don
Quixote, and all the other spectators, rose from their seats; and now
the attendant duennas halted, and separating, opened a passage through
which their afflicted lady, still led by the squire Trifaldin,
advanced towards the noble party, who stepped some dozen paces forward
to receive her. She then cast herself on her knees, and with a voice
rather harsh and coarse than clear and delicate, said, "I entreat your
graces will not condescend to so much courtesy to this your handmaid;
for my mind, already bewildered with affliction, will only be still
more confounded." "He must be wholly destitute of understanding, lady
countess," quoth the duke, "who could not discern your merit by your
person, which alone claims all the cream of courtesy, and all the
flower of well-bred ceremony." Then raising her by the hand, he led
her to a chair close by the duchess, who also received her with much
politeness.
During the ceremony, Don Quixote was silent, and Sancho, dying with
impatience to see the face of the Trifaldi, or of some one of her many
duennas; but it was impossible, till they chose to unveil themselves.
All was expectation, and not a whisper was heard, till at length the
afflicted lady began in these words: "Confident I am, most potent
lord, most beautiful lady, and most discreet spectators, that my most
unfortunate miserableness will find in your generous and compassionate
bowels a most merciful sanctuary; for so doleful and dolorous is my
wretched state, that it is sufficient to mollify marble, to soften
adamant, and melt down the steel of the hardest hearts. But before the
rehearsal of my misfortunes is commenced, I earnestly desire to be
informed whether this noble circle be adorned by the presence of that
most renowned knight, Don Quixote de la Mancha, and his squire Panza."
"That same Panza," said Sancho, before any one could answer, "stands
here before you, and also Don Quixote; and therefore, most dolorous
duenna, say what you will; for we are all ready to be your most humble
servants." Upon this Don Quixote stood up, and addressing himself to
the doleful countess, he said, "If your misfortunes, afflicted lady,
can admit of remedy from the valour or fortitude of a knight-errant,
the little all that I possess shall be employed in your service. I am
Don Quixote de la Mancha, whose function it is to relieve every
species of distress; you need not, therefore, madam, implore
benevolence, nor have recourse to preambles, but plainly and without
circumlocution declare your grievances, for you have auditors who will
bestow commiseration, if not redress." On hearing this, the afflicted
duenna attempted to throw herself at Don Quixote's feet, and
struggling to kiss them, said, "I prostrate myself, O invincible
knight, before these feet and legs, which are the bases and pillars of
knight-errantry, and will kiss these feet, whose steps lead to the end
and termination of my misfortunes! O valorous errant, whose true
exploits surpass and obscure the fabulous feats of the Amadises,
Esplandians, and Belianises of old!" Then, leaving Don Quixote, she
turned to Sancho Panza, and taking him by the hand, said, "O thou, the
most trusty squire that ever served knight-errant in present or past
ages, whose goodness is of greater extent than that beard of my usher
Trifaldin; well mayest thou boast that, in serving Don Quixote, thou
dost serve, in epitome, all the knights-errant that ever shone in the
annals of chivalry! I conjure thee, by thy natural benevolence and
inviolable fidelity, to intercede with my lord in my behalf, that the
light of his favour may forthwith shine upon the humblest and
unhappiest of countesses."
The duke and duchess could scarcely preserve their gravity, and were
highly pleased with the ingenuity of the Countess Trifaldi, who,
having seated herself, thus began her tale of sorrow: "The famous
kingdom of Candaya had for its queen the lady Donna Maguncia, widow of
King Archipiela, who died, leaving the Infanta Antonomasia, their only
child, heiress to the crown. This princess was brought up and educated
under my care and instruction; I being the eldest and chief of the
duennas in the household of her royal mother. Now, in process of time
the young Antonomasia arrived at the age of fourteen, with such a
perfection of beauty that nature could not raise it to a pitch higher;
for she was as discreet as fair, and she was the fairest creature
living; and so she still remains, if the envious fates and
hard-hearted destinies have not cut short her thread of life. Her
wondrous beauty attracted innumerable adorers; and princes of her own
and every other nation became her slaves. Among the rest, a private
cavalier of the court had the audacity to aspire to that earthly
heaven; confiding in his youth, his gallantry, his sprightly and happy
wit, with numerous other graces and qualifications. Indeed, I must
confess to your highnesses, though with reverence be it spoken, he
could touch the guitar to a miracle. He was, besides, a poet, and a
fine dancer, and had so rare a talent for making bird-cages that he
might have gained his living by it, in case of need. So many parts and
elegant endowments were sufficient to have moved a mountain, much more
the tender heart of a virgin. But all his graces and accomplishments
would have proved ineffectual, had not the robber and ruffian first
artfully contrived to make a conquest of me. The assassin and
barbarous vagabond began with endeavouring to obtain my good will, and
suborn my inclination, that I might betray my trust, and deliver up to
him the keys of the fortress I guarded. In short, he so plied me with
toys and trinkets, and so insinuated himself into my soul, that I was
bewitched. But that which chiefly brought me down, and levelled me
with the ground, was a copy of verses which I heard him sing one night
under my window; and, if I remember right, the words were these:
'The tyrant fair whose beauty sent
The throbbing mischief to my heart,
The more my anguish to augment,
Forbids me to reveal the smart.'
The words of his song were to me so many pearls, and his voice was
sweeter than honey; and many a time since have I thought, reflecting
on the evils I incurred, that poets--at least your amorous poets,
should be banished from all good and well-regulated commonwealths;
for, instead of composing pathetic verses like those of the Marquis of
Mantua, which make women and children weep, they exercise their skill
in soft strokes and tender touches, which pierce the soul, and,
entering the body like lightning, consume all within, while the
garment is left unsinged. Another time he sung:
'Come death, with gently stealing pace,
And take me unperceived away,
Nor let me see thy wished-for face,
Lest joy my fleeting life should stay.'
Thus was I assailed with these and such like couplets, that astonish,
and, when chanted, are bewitching. But when our poets deign to compose
a kind of verses much in fashion with us, called roundelays--then,
alas! they are no sooner heard than the whole frame is in a state of
emotion: the soul is seized with a pleasing delirium of all the
senses. I therefore say again, most noble auditors, that such
versifiers deserve to be banished to the Isle of Lizards: though, in
truth, the blame lies chiefly with the idiots who suffer themselves to
be deluded by such things; and had I been a wise and discreet duenna,
the nightly chanting of his verses would not have moved me, nor should
I have lent an ear to such expressions as 'Dying I live; in ice I
burn; I shiver in flames; in despair I hope; I fly, yet stay;' with
other flimflams of the like stamp, of which such kind of writings are
full. Then again, when they promise to bestow on us the Phoenix of
Arabia, the crown of Ariadne, the ringlets of Apollo, the pearls of
the South Sea, the gold of Tiber, and the balsam of Pencaya, how
bountiful are their pens! how liberal in promises which they cannot
perform! But, woe is me, unhappy wretch! Whither do I stray? What
madness impels me to dwell on the faults of others, who have so many
of mine own to answer for? Woe is me again, miserable creature! No, it
was not his verses that vanquished me; but my own weakness; music did
not subdue me; no, it was my own levity, my ignorance and lack of
caution that melted me down, that opened the way and smoothed the
passage for Don Clavijo--for that is the name of the treacherous
cavalier. Thus being made the go-between, the wicked man was often in
the chamber of the--not by him, but by me, betrayed Antonomasia, as
her lawful spouse: for, sinner as I am, never would I have consented
unless he had been her true husband, that he should have come within
the shadow of her shoe-string! No, no, marriage must be the forerunner
of any business of this kind undertaken by me; the only mischief in
the affair was that they were ill-sorted: Don Clavijo being but a
private gentleman, and the Infanta Antonomasia, as I have already
said, heiress of the kingdom.
"For some time this intercourse, enveloped in the sagacity of my
circumspection, was concealed from every eye. At length we laid our
three heads together, and determined that Don Clavijo should demand
Antonomasia in marriage before the vicar, in virtue of a contract
signed and given him by the infanta herself, to be his wife, and so
worded by my wit that the force of Samson could not have broken
through it. Our plan was immediately carried into execution; the vicar
examined the contract, took the lady's confession, and she was placed
in the custody of an honest alguazil." "Bless me," said Sancho,
"alguazils too, and poets, and songs, and roundelays, in Candaya! I
swear the world is the same every where! But pray get on, good Madam
Trifaldi, for it grows late, and I am on thorns till I know the end of
this long story." "I shall be brief," answered the countess.