PART I - CHAPTER XXIV.

by Miguel de Cervantes

  IN WHICH IS CONTINUED THE ADVENTURE OF THE SIERRA MORENAThe history relates that it was with the greatest attention Don Quixotelistened to the ragged knight of the Sierra, who began by saying:"Of a surety, senor, whoever you are, for I know you not, I thank you forthe proofs of kindness and courtesy you have shown me, and would I werein a condition to requite with something more than good-will that whichyou have displayed towards me in the cordial reception you have given me;but my fate does not afford me any other means of returning kindnessesdone me save the hearty desire to repay them.""Mine," replied Don Quixote, "is to be of service to you, so much so thatI had resolved not to quit these mountains until I had found you, andlearned of you whether there is any kind of relief to be found for thatsorrow under which from the strangeness of your life you seem to labour;and to search for you with all possible diligence, if search had beennecessary. And if your misfortune should prove to be one of those thatrefuse admission to any sort of consolation, it was my purpose to joinyou in lamenting and mourning over it, so far as I could; for it is stillsome comfort in misfortune to find one who can feel for it. And if mygood intentions deserve to be acknowledged with any kind of courtesy, Ientreat you, senor, by that which I perceive you possess in so high adegree, and likewise conjure you by whatever you love or have loved bestin life, to tell me who you are and the cause that has brought you tolive or die in these solitudes like a brute beast, dwelling among them ina manner so foreign to your condition as your garb and appearance show.And I swear," added Don Quixote, "by the order of knighthood which I havereceived, and by my vocation of knight-errant, if you gratify me in this,to serve you with all the zeal my calling demands of me, either inrelieving your misfortune if it admits of relief, or in joining you inlamenting it as I promised to do."The Knight of the Thicket, hearing him of the Rueful Countenance talk inthis strain, did nothing but stare at him, and stare at him again, andagain survey him from head to foot; and when he had thoroughly examinedhim, he said to him:"If you have anything to give me to eat, for God's sake give it me, andafter I have eaten I will do all you ask in acknowledgment of thegoodwill you have displayed towards me."Sancho from his sack, and the goatherd from his pouch, furnished theRagged One with the means of appeasing his hunger, and what they gave himhe ate like a half-witted being, so hastily that he took no time betweenmouthfuls, gorging rather than swallowing; and while he ate neither henor they who observed him uttered a word. As soon as he had done he madesigns to them to follow him, which they did, and he led them to a greenplot which lay a little farther off round the corner of a rock. Onreaching it he stretched himself upon the grass, and the others did thesame, all keeping silence, until the Ragged One, settling himself in hisplace, said:"If it is your wish, sirs, that I should disclose in a few words thesurpassing extent of my misfortunes, you must promise not to break thethread of my sad story with any question or other interruption, for theinstant you do so the tale I tell will come to an end."These words of the Ragged One reminded Don Quixote of the tale his squirehad told him, when he failed to keep count of the goats that had crossedthe river and the story remained unfinished; but to return to the RaggedOne, he went on to say:"I give you this warning because I wish to pass briefly over the story ofmy misfortunes, for recalling them to memory only serves to add freshones, and the less you question me the sooner shall I make an end of therecital, though I shall not omit to relate anything of importance inorder fully to satisfy your curiosity."Don Quixote gave the promise for himself and the others, and with thisassurance he began as follows:"My name is Cardenio, my birthplace one of the best cities of thisAndalusia, my family noble, my parents rich, my misfortune so great thatmy parents must have wept and my family grieved over it without beingable by their wealth to lighten it; for the gifts of fortune can dolittle to relieve reverses sent by Heaven. In that same country there wasa heaven in which love had placed all the glory I could desire; such wasthe beauty of Luscinda, a damsel as noble and as rich as I, but ofhappier fortunes, and of less firmness than was due to so worthy apassion as mine. This Luscinda I loved, worshipped, and adored from myearliest and tenderest years, and she loved me in all the innocence andsincerity of childhood. Our parents were aware of our feelings, and werenot sorry to perceive them, for they saw clearly that as they ripenedthey must lead at last to a marriage between us, a thing that seemedalmost prearranged by the equality of our families and wealth. We grewup, and with our growth grew the love between us, so that the father ofLuscinda felt bound for propriety's sake to refuse me admission to hishouse, in this perhaps imitating the parents of that Thisbe so celebratedby the poets, and this refusal but added love to love and flame to flame;for though they enforced silence upon our tongues they could not imposeit upon our pens, which can make known the heart's secrets to a loved onemore freely than tongues; for many a time the presence of the object oflove shakes the firmest will and strikes dumb the boldest tongue. Ahheavens! how many letters did I write her, and how many dainty modestreplies did I receive! how many ditties and love-songs did I compose inwhich my heart declared and made known its feelings, described its ardentlongings, revelled in its recollections and dallied with its desires! Atlength growing impatient and feeling my heart languishing with longing tosee her, I resolved to put into execution and carry out what seemed to methe best mode of winning my desired and merited reward, to ask her of herfather for my lawful wife, which I did. To this his answer was that hethanked me for the disposition I showed to do honour to him and to regardmyself as honoured by the bestowal of his treasure; but that as my fatherwas alive it was his by right to make this demand, for if it were not inaccordance with his full will and pleasure, Luscinda was not to be takenor given by stealth. I thanked him for his kindness, reflecting thatthere was reason in what he said, and that my father would assent to itas soon as I should tell him, and with that view I went the very sameinstant to let him know what my desires were. When I entered the roomwhere he was I found him with an open letter in his hand, which, before Icould utter a word, he gave me, saying, 'By this letter thou wilt see,Cardenio, the disposition the Duke Ricardo has to serve thee.' This DukeRicardo, as you, sirs, probably know already, is a grandee of Spain whohas his seat in the best part of this Andalusia. I took and read theletter, which was couched in terms so flattering that even I myself feltit would be wrong in my father not to comply with the request the dukemade in it, which was that he would send me immediately to him, as hewished me to become the companion, not servant, of his eldest son, andwould take upon himself the charge of placing me in a positioncorresponding to the esteem in which he held me. On reading the letter myvoice failed me, and still more when I heard my father say, 'Two dayshence thou wilt depart, Cardenio, in accordance with the duke's wish, andgive thanks to God who is opening a road to thee by which thou mayestattain what I know thou dost deserve; and to these words he added othersof fatherly counsel. The time for my departure arrived; I spoke one nightto Luscinda, I told her all that had occurred, as I did also to herfather, entreating him to allow some delay, and to defer the disposal ofher hand until I should see what the Duke Ricardo sought of me: he gaveme the promise, and she confirmed it with vows and swoonings unnumbered.Finally, I presented myself to the duke, and was received and treated byhim so kindly that very soon envy began to do its work, the old servantsgrowing envious of me, and regarding the duke's inclination to show mefavour as an injury to themselves. But the one to whom my arrival gavethe greatest pleasure was the duke's second son, Fernando by name, agallant youth, of noble, generous, and amorous disposition, who very soonmade so intimate a friend of me that it was remarked by everybody; forthough the elder was attached to me, and showed me kindness, he did notcarry his affectionate treatment to the same length as Don Fernando. Itso happened, then, that as between friends no secret remains unshared,and as the favour I enjoyed with Don Fernando had grown into friendship,he made all his thoughts known to me, and in particular a love affairwhich troubled his mind a little. He was deeply in love with a peasantgirl, a vassal of his father's, the daughter of wealthy parents, andherself so beautiful, modest, discreet, and virtuous, that no one whoknew her was able to decide in which of these respects she was mosthighly gifted or most excelled. The attractions of the fair peasantraised the passion of Don Fernando to such a point that, in order to gainhis object and overcome her virtuous resolutions, he determined to pledgehis word to her to become her husband, for to attempt it in any other waywas to attempt an impossibility. Bound to him as I was by friendship, Istrove by the best arguments and the most forcible examples I could thinkof to restrain and dissuade him from such a course; but perceiving Iproduced no effect I resolved to make the Duke Ricardo, his father,acquainted with the matter; but Don Fernando, being sharp-witted andshrewd, foresaw and apprehended this, perceiving that by my duty as agood servant I was bound not to keep concealed a thing so much opposed tothe honour of my lord the duke; and so, to mislead and deceive me, hetold me he could find no better way of effacing from his mind the beautythat so enslaved him than by absenting himself for some months, and thathe wished the absence to be effected by our going, both of us, to myfather's house under the pretence, which he would make to the duke, ofgoing to see and buy some fine horses that there were in my city, whichproduces the best in the world. When I heard him say so, even if hisresolution had not been so good a one I should have hailed it as one ofthe happiest that could be imagined, prompted by my affection, seeingwhat a favourable chance and opportunity it offered me of returning tosee my Luscinda. With this thought and wish I commended his idea andencouraged his design, advising him to put it into execution as quicklyas possible, as, in truth, absence produced its effect in spite of themost deeply rooted feelings. But, as afterwards appeared, when he saidthis to me he had already enjoyed the peasant girl under the title ofhusband, and was waiting for an opportunity of making it known withsafety to himself, being in dread of what his father the duke would dowhen he came to know of his folly. It happened, then, that as with youngmen love is for the most part nothing more than appetite, which, as itsfinal object is enjoyment, comes to an end on obtaining it, and thatwhich seemed to be love takes to flight, as it cannot pass the limitfixed by nature, which fixes no limit to true love--what I mean is thatafter Don Fernando had enjoyed this peasant girl his passion subsided andhis eagerness cooled, and if at first he feigned a wish to absent himselfin order to cure his love, he was now in reality anxious to go to avoidkeeping his promise."The duke gave him permission, and ordered me to accompany him; wearrived at my city, and my father gave him the reception due to his rank;I saw Luscinda without delay, and, though it had not been dead ordeadened, my love gathered fresh life. To my sorrow I told the story ofit to Don Fernando, for I thought that in virtue of the great friendshiphe bore me I was bound to conceal nothing from him. I extolled herbeauty, her gaiety, her wit, so warmly, that my praises excited in him adesire to see a damsel adorned by such attractions. To my misfortune Iyielded to it, showing her to him one night by the light of a taper at awindow where we used to talk to one another. As she appeared to him inher dressing-gown, she drove all the beauties he had seen until then outof his recollection; speech failed him, his head turned, he wasspell-bound, and in the end love-smitten, as you will see in the courseof the story of my misfortune; and to inflame still further his passion,which he hid from me and revealed to Heaven alone, it so happened thatone day he found a note of hers entreating me to demand her of her fatherin marriage, so delicate, so modest, and so tender, that on reading it hetold me that in Luscinda alone were combined all the charms of beauty andunderstanding that were distributed among all the other women in theworld. It is true, and I own it now, that though I knew what good causeDon Fernando had to praise Luscinda, it gave me uneasiness to hear thesepraises from his mouth, and I began to fear, and with reason to feeldistrust of him, for there was no moment when he was not ready to talk ofLuscinda, and he would start the subject himself even though he draggedit in unseasonably, a circumstance that aroused in me a certain amount ofjealousy; not that I feared any change in the constancy or faith ofLuscinda; but still my fate led me to forebode what she assured meagainst. Don Fernando contrived always to read the letters I sent toLuscinda and her answers to me, under the pretence that he enjoyed thewit and sense of both. It so happened, then, that Luscinda having beggedof me a book of chivalry to read, one that she was very fond of, Amadisof Gaul-"Don Quixote no sooner heard a book of chivalry mentioned, than he said:"Had your worship told me at the beginning of your story that the LadyLuscinda was fond of books of chivalry, no other laudation would havebeen requisite to impress upon me the superiority of her understanding,for it could not have been of the excellence you describe had a taste forsuch delightful reading been wanting; so, as far as I am concerned, youneed waste no more words in describing her beauty, worth, andintelligence; for, on merely hearing what her taste was, I declare her tobe the most beautiful and the most intelligent woman in the world; and Iwish your worship had, along with Amadis of Gaul, sent her the worthy DonRugel of Greece, for I know the Lady Luscinda would greatly relishDaraida and Garaya, and the shrewd sayings of the shepherd Darinel, andthe admirable verses of his bucolics, sung and delivered by him with suchsprightliness, wit, and ease; but a time may come when this omission canbe remedied, and to rectify it nothing more is needed than for yourworship to be so good as to come with me to my village, for there I cangive you more than three hundred books which are the delight of my souland the entertainment of my life;--though it occurs to me that I have notgot one of them now, thanks to the spite of wicked and enviousenchanters;--but pardon me for having broken the promise we made not tointerrupt your discourse; for when I hear chivalry or knights-errantmentioned, I can no more help talking about them than the rays of the suncan help giving heat, or those of the moon moisture; pardon me,therefore, and proceed, for that is more to the purpose now."While Don Quixote was saying this, Cardenio allowed his head to fall uponhis breast, and seemed plunged in deep thought; and though twice DonQuixote bade him go on with his story, he neither looked up nor uttered aword in reply; but after some time he raised his head and said, "I cannotget rid of the idea, nor will anyone in the world remove it, or make methink otherwise--and he would be a blockhead who would hold or believeanything else than that that arrant knave Master Elisabad made free withQueen Madasima.""That is not true, by all that's good," said Don Quixote in high wrath,turning upon him angrily, as his way was; "and it is a very greatslander, or rather villainy. Queen Madasima was a very illustrious lady,and it is not to be supposed that so exalted a princess would have madefree with a quack; and whoever maintains the contrary lies like a greatscoundrel, and I will give him to know it, on foot or on horseback, armedor unarmed, by night or by day, or as he likes best."Cardenio was looking at him steadily, and his mad fit having now comeupon him, he had no disposition to go on with his story, nor would DonQuixote have listened to it, so much had what he had heard about Madasimadisgusted him. Strange to say, he stood up for her as if she were inearnest his veritable born lady; to such a pass had his unholy booksbrought him. Cardenio, then, being, as I said, now mad, when he heardhimself given the lie, and called a scoundrel and other insulting names,not relishing the jest, snatched up a stone that he found near him, andwith it delivered such a blow on Don Quixote's breast that he laid him onhis back. Sancho Panza, seeing his master treated in this fashion,attacked the madman with his closed fist; but the Ragged One received himin such a way that with a blow of his fist he stretched him at his feet,and then mounting upon him crushed his ribs to his own satisfaction; thegoatherd, who came to the rescue, shared the same fate; and having beatenand pummelled them all he left them and quietly withdrew to hishiding-place on the mountain. Sancho rose, and with the rage he felt atfinding himself so belaboured without deserving it, ran to take vengeanceon the goatherd, accusing him of not giving them warning that this manwas at times taken with a mad fit, for if they had known it they wouldhave been on their guard to protect themselves. The goatherd replied thathe had said so, and that if he had not heard him, that was no fault ofhis. Sancho retorted, and the goatherd rejoined, and the altercationended in their seizing each other by the beard, and exchanging suchfisticuffs that if Don Quixote had not made peace between them, theywould have knocked one another to pieces."Leave me alone, Sir Knight of the Rueful Countenance," said Sancho,grappling with the goatherd, "for of this fellow, who is a clown likemyself, and no dubbed knight, I can safely take satisfaction for theaffront he has offered me, fighting with him hand to hand like an honestman.""That is true," said Don Quixote, "but I know that he is not to blame forwhat has happened."With this he pacified them, and again asked the goatherd if it would bepossible to find Cardenio, as he felt the greatest anxiety to know theend of his story. The goatherd told him, as he had told him before, thatthere was no knowing of a certainty where his lair was; but that if hewandered about much in that neighbourhood he could not fail to fall inwith him either in or out of his senses.


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