PART I - CHAPTER XXIX.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　WHICH TREATS OF THE DROLL DEVICE AND METHOD ADOPTED TO EXTRICATE OURLOVE-STRICKEN KNIGHT FROM THE SEVERE PENANCE HE HAD IMPOSED UPON HIMSELF"Such, sirs, is the true story of my sad adventures; judge for yourselvesnow whether the sighs and lamentations you heard, and the tears thatflowed from my eyes, had not sufficient cause even if I had indulged inthem more freely; and if you consider the nature of my misfortune youwill see that consolation is idle, as there is no possible remedy for it.All I ask of you is, what you may easily and reasonably do, to show mewhere I may pass my life unharassed by the fear and dread of discovery bythose who are in search of me; for though the great love my parents bearme makes me feel sure of being kindly received by them, so great is myfeeling of shame at the mere thought that I cannot present myself beforethem as they expect, that I had rather banish myself from their sight forever than look them in the face with the reflection that they beheld minestripped of that purity they had a right to expect in me."With these words she became silent, and the colour that overspread herface showed plainly the pain and shame she was suffering at heart. Intheirs the listeners felt as much pity as wonder at her misfortunes; butas the curate was just about to offer her some consolation and adviceCardenio forestalled him, saying, "So then, senora, you are the fairDorothea, the only daughter of the rich Clenardo?" Dorothea wasastonished at hearing her father's name, and at the miserable appearanceof him who mentioned it, for it has been already said how wretchedly cladCardenio was; so she said to him:"And who may you be, brother, who seem to know my father's name so well?For so far, if I remember rightly, I have not mentioned it in the wholestory of my misfortunes.""I am that unhappy being, senora," replied Cardenio, "whom, as you havesaid, Luscinda declared to be her husband; I am the unfortunate Cardenio,whom the wrong-doing of him who has brought you to your present conditionhas reduced to the state you see me in, bare, ragged, bereft of all humancomfort, and what is worse, of reason, for I only possess it when Heavenis pleased for some short space to restore it to me. I, Dorothea, am hewho witnessed the wrong done by Don Fernando, and waited to hear the'Yes' uttered by which Luscinda owned herself his betrothed: I am he whohad not courage enough to see how her fainting fit ended, or what came ofthe paper that was found in her bosom, because my heart had not thefortitude to endure so many strokes of ill-fortune at once; and so losingpatience I quitted the house, and leaving a letter with my host, which Ientreated him to place in Luscinda's hands, I betook myself to thesesolitudes, resolved to end here the life I hated as if it were my mortalenemy. But fate would not rid me of it, contenting itself with robbing meof my reason, perhaps to preserve me for the good fortune I have had inmeeting you; for if that which you have just told us be true, as Ibelieve it to be, it may be that Heaven has yet in store for both of us ahappier termination to our misfortunes than we look for; because seeingthat Luscinda cannot marry Don Fernando, being mine, as she has herselfso openly declared, and that Don Fernando cannot marry her as he isyours, we may reasonably hope that Heaven will restore to us what isours, as it is still in existence and not yet alienated or destroyed. Andas we have this consolation springing from no very visionary hope or wildfancy, I entreat you, senora, to form new resolutions in your bettermind, as I mean to do in mine, preparing yourself to look forward tohappier fortunes; for I swear to you by the faith of a gentleman and aChristian not to desert you until I see you in possession of DonFernando, and if I cannot by words induce him to recognise his obligationto you, in that case to avail myself of the right which my rank as agentleman gives me, and with just cause challenge him on account of theinjury he has done you, not regarding my own wrongs, which I shall leaveto Heaven to avenge, while I on earth devote myself to yours."Cardenio's words completed the astonishment of Dorothea, and not knowinghow to return thanks for such an offer, she attempted to kiss his feet;but Cardenio would not permit it, and the licentiate replied for both,commended the sound reasoning of Cardenio, and lastly, begged, advised,and urged them to come with him to his village, where they might furnishthemselves with what they needed, and take measures to discover DonFernando, or restore Dorothea to her parents, or do what seemed to themmost advisable. Cardenio and Dorothea thanked him, and accepted the kindoffer he made them; and the barber, who had been listening to allattentively and in silence, on his part some kindly words also, and withno less good-will than the curate offered his services in any way thatmight be of use to them. He also explained to them in a few words theobject that had brought them there, and the strange nature of DonQuixote's madness, and how they were waiting for his squire, who had gonein search of him. Like the recollection of a dream, the quarrel he hadhad with Don Quixote came back to Cardenio's memory, and he described itto the others; but he was unable to say what the dispute was about.At this moment they heard a shout, and recognised it as coming fromSancho Panza, who, not finding them where he had left them, was callingaloud to them. They went to meet him, and in answer to their inquiriesabout Don Quixote, he told them how he had found him stripped to hisshirt, lank, yellow, half dead with hunger, and sighing for his ladyDulcinea; and although he had told him that she commanded him to quitthat place and come to El Toboso, where she was expecting him, he hadanswered that he was determined not to appear in the presence of herbeauty until he had done deeds to make him worthy of her favour; and ifthis went on, Sancho said, he ran the risk of not becoming an emperor asin duty bound, or even an archbishop, which was the least he could be;for which reason they ought to consider what was to be done to get himaway from there. The licentiate in reply told him not to be uneasy, forthey would fetch him away in spite of himself. He then told Cardenio andDorothea what they had proposed to do to cure Don Quixote, or at any ratetake him home; upon which Dorothea said that she could play thedistressed damsel better than the barber; especially as she had there thedress in which to do it to the life, and that they might trust to heracting the part in every particular requisite for carrying out theirscheme, for she had read a great many books of chivalry, and knew exactlythe style in which afflicted damsels begged boons of knights-errant."In that case," said the curate, "there is nothing more required than toset about it at once, for beyond a doubt fortune is declaring itself inour favour, since it has so unexpectedly begun to open a door for yourrelief, and smoothed the way for us to our object."Dorothea then took out of her pillow-case a complete petticoat of somerich stuff, and a green mantle of some other fine material, and anecklace and other ornaments out of a little box, and with these in aninstant she so arrayed herself that she looked like a great and richlady. All this, and more, she said, she had taken from home in case ofneed, but that until then she had had no occasion to make use of it. Theywere all highly delighted with her grace, air, and beauty, and declaredDon Fernando to be a man of very little taste when he rejected suchcharms. But the one who admired her most was Sancho Panza, for it seemedto him (what indeed was true) that in all the days of his life he hadnever seen such a lovely creature; and he asked the curate with greateagerness who this beautiful lady was, and what she wanted in theseout-of-the-way quarters."This fair lady, brother Sancho," replied the curate, "is no less apersonage than the heiress in the direct male line of the great kingdomof Micomicon, who has come in search of your master to beg a boon of him,which is that he redress a wrong or injury that a wicked giant has doneher; and from the fame as a good knight which your master has acquiredfar and wide, this princess has come from Guinea to seek him.""A lucky seeking and a lucky finding!" said Sancho Panza at this;"especially if my master has the good fortune to redress that injury, andright that wrong, and kill that son of a bitch of a giant your worshipspeaks of; as kill him he will if he meets him, unless, indeed, hehappens to be a phantom; for my master has no power at all againstphantoms. But one thing among others I would beg of you, senorlicentiate, which is, that, to prevent my master taking a fancy to be anarchbishop, for that is what I'm afraid of, your worship would recommendhim to marry this princess at once; for in this way he will be disabledfrom taking archbishop's orders, and will easily come into his empire,and I to the end of my desires; I have been thinking over the mattercarefully, and by what I can make out I find it will not do for me thatmy master should become an archbishop, because I am no good for theChurch, as I am married; and for me now, having as I have a wife andchildren, to set about obtaining dispensations to enable me to hold aplace of profit under the Church, would be endless work; so that, senor,it all turns on my master marrying this lady at once--for as yet I do notknow her grace, and so I cannot call her by her name.""She is called the Princess Micomicona," said the curate; "for as herkingdom is Micomicon, it is clear that must be her name.""There's no doubt of that," replied Sancho, "for I have known many totake their name and title from the place where they were born and callthemselves Pedro of Alcala, Juan of Ubeda, and Diego of Valladolid; andit may be that over there in Guinea queens have the same way of takingthe names of their kingdoms.""So it may," said the curate; "and as for your master's marrying, I willdo all in my power towards it:" with which Sancho was as much pleased asthe curate was amazed at his simplicity and at seeing what a hold theabsurdities of his master had taken of his fancy, for he had evidentlypersuaded himself that he was going to be an emperor.By this time Dorothea had seated herself upon the curate's mule, and thebarber had fitted the ox-tail beard to his face, and they now told Sanchoto conduct them to where Don Quixote was, warning him not to say that heknew either the licentiate or the barber, as his master's becoming anemperor entirely depended on his not recognising them; neither the curatenor Cardenio, however, thought fit to go with them; Cardenio lest heshould remind Don Quixote of the quarrel he had with him, and the curateas there was no necessity for his presence just yet, so they allowed theothers to go on before them, while they themselves followed slowly onfoot. The curate did not forget to instruct Dorothea how to act, but shesaid they might make their minds easy, as everything would be doneexactly as the books of chivalry required and described.They had gone about three-quarters of a league when they discovered DonQuixote in a wilderness of rocks, by this time clothed, but without hisarmour; and as soon as Dorothea saw him and was told by Sancho that thatwas Don Quixote, she whipped her palfrey, the well-bearded barberfollowing her, and on coming up to him her squire sprang from his muleand came forward to receive her in his arms, and she dismounting withgreat ease of manner advanced to kneel before the feet of Don Quixote;and though he strove to raise her up, she without rising addressed him inthis fashion:"From this spot I will not rise, valiant and doughty knight, until yourgoodness and courtesy grant me a boon, which will redound to the honourand renown of your person and render a service to the most disconsolateand afflicted damsel the sun has seen; and if the might of your strongarm corresponds to the repute of your immortal fame, you are bound to aidthe helpless being who, led by the savour of your renowned name, hathcome from far distant lands to seek your aid in her misfortunes.""I will not answer a word, beauteous lady," replied Don Quixote, "norwill I listen to anything further concerning you, until you rise from theearth.""I will not rise, senor," answered the afflicted damsel, "unless of yourcourtesy the boon I ask is first granted me.""I grant and accord it," said Don Quixote, "provided without detriment orprejudice to my king, my country, or her who holds the key of my heartand freedom, it may be complied with.""It will not be to the detriment or prejudice of any of them, my worthylord," said the afflicted damsel; and here Sancho Panza drew close to hismaster's ear and said to him very softly, "Your worship may very safelygrant the boon she asks; it's nothing at all; only to kill a big giant;and she who asks it is the exalted Princess Micomicona, queen of thegreat kingdom of Micomicon of Ethiopia.""Let her be who she may," replied Don Quixote, "I will do what is mybounden duty, and what my conscience bids me, in conformity with what Ihave professed;" and turning to the damsel he said, "Let your greatbeauty rise, for I grant the boon which you would ask of me.""Then what I ask," said the damsel, "is that your magnanimous personaccompany me at once whither I will conduct you, and that you promise notto engage in any other adventure or quest until you have avenged me of atraitor who against all human and divine law, has usurped my kingdom.""I repeat that I grant it," replied Don Quixote; "and so, lady, you mayfrom this day forth lay aside the melancholy that distresses you, and letyour failing hopes gather new life and strength, for with the help of Godand of my arm you will soon see yourself restored to your kingdom, andseated upon the throne of your ancient and mighty realm, notwithstandingand despite of the felons who would gainsay it; and now hands to thework, for in delay there is apt to be danger."The distressed damsel strove with much pertinacity to kiss his hands; butDon Quixote, who was in all things a polished and courteous knight, wouldby no means allow it, but made her rise and embraced her with greatcourtesy and politeness, and ordered Sancho to look to Rocinante'sgirths, and to arm him without a moment's delay. Sancho took down thearmour, which was hung up on a tree like a trophy, and having seen to thegirths armed his master in a trice, who as soon as he found himself inhis armour exclaimed:"Let us be gone in the name of God to bring aid to this great lady."The barber was all this time on his knees at great pains to hide hislaughter and not let his beard fall, for had it fallen maybe their finescheme would have come to nothing; but now seeing the boon granted, andthe promptitude with which Don Quixote prepared to set out in compliancewith it, he rose and took his lady's hand, and between them they placedher upon the mule. Don Quixote then mounted Rocinante, and the barbersettled himself on his beast, Sancho being left to go on foot, which madehim feel anew the loss of his Dapple, finding the want of him now. But hebore all with cheerfulness, being persuaded that his master had nowfairly started and was just on the point of becoming an emperor; for hefelt no doubt at all that he would marry this princess, and be king ofMicomicon at least. The only thing that troubled him was the reflectionthat this kingdom was in the land of the blacks, and that the people theywould give him for vassals would be all black; but for this he soon founda remedy in his fancy, and said he to himself, "What is it to me if myvassals are blacks? What more have I to do than make a cargo of them andcarry them to Spain, where I can sell them and get ready money for them,and with it buy some title or some office in which to live at ease allthe days of my life? Not unless you go to sleep and haven't the wit orskill to turn things to account and sell three, six, or ten thousandvassals while you would be talking about it! By God I will stir them up,big and little, or as best I can, and let them be ever so black I'll turnthem into white or yellow. Come, come, what a fool I am!" And so hejogged on, so occupied with his thoughts and easy in his mind that heforgot all about the hardship of travelling on foot.Cardenio and the curate were watching all this from among some bushes,not knowing how to join company with the others; but the curate, who wasvery fertile in devices, soon hit upon a way of effecting their purpose,and with a pair of scissors he had in a case he quickly cut offCardenio's beard, and putting on him a grey jerkin of his own he gave hima black cloak, leaving himself in his breeches and doublet, whileCardenio's appearance was so different from what it had been that hewould not have known himself had he seen himself in a mirror. Havingeffected this, although the others had gone on ahead while they weredisguising themselves, they easily came out on the high road before them,for the brambles and awkward places they encountered did not allow thoseon horseback to go as fast as those on foot. They then posted themselveson the level ground at the outlet of the Sierra, and as soon as DonQuixote and his companions emerged from it the curate began to examinehim very deliberately, as though he were striving to recognise him, andafter having stared at him for some time he hastened towards him withopen arms exclaiming, "A happy meeting with the mirror of chivalry, myworthy compatriot Don Quixote of La Mancha, the flower and cream of highbreeding, the protection and relief of the distressed, the quintessenceof knights-errant!" And so saying he clasped in his arms the knee of DonQuixote's left leg. He, astonished at the stranger's words and behaviour,looked at him attentively, and at length recognised him, very muchsurprised to see him there, and made great efforts to dismount. This,however, the curate would not allow, on which Don Quixote said, "Permitme, senor licentiate, for it is not fitting that I should be on horsebackand so reverend a person as your worship on foot.""On no account will I allow it," said the curate; "your mightiness mustremain on horseback, for it is on horseback you achieve the greatestdeeds and adventures that have been beheld in our age; as for me, anunworthy priest, it will serve me well enough to mount on the haunches ofone of the mules of these gentlefolk who accompany your worship, if theyhave no objection, and I will fancy I am mounted on the steed Pegasus, oron the zebra or charger that bore the famous Moor, Muzaraque, who to thisday lies enchanted in the great hill of Zulema, a little distance fromthe great Complutum.""Nor even that will I consent to, senor licentiate," answered DonQuixote, "and I know it will be the good pleasure of my lady theprincess, out of love for me, to order her squire to give up the saddleof his mule to your worship, and he can sit behind if the beast will bearit.""It will, I am sure," said the princess, "and I am sure, too, that I neednot order my squire, for he is too courteous and considerate to allow aChurchman to go on foot when he might be mounted.""That he is," said the barber, and at once alighting, he offered hissaddle to the curate, who accepted it without much entreaty; butunfortunately as the barber was mounting behind, the mule, being as ithappened a hired one, which is the same thing as saying ill-conditioned,lifted its hind hoofs and let fly a couple of kicks in the air, whichwould have made Master Nicholas wish his expedition in quest of DonQuixote at the devil had they caught him on the breast or head. As itwas, they so took him by surprise that he came to the ground, giving solittle heed to his beard that it fell off, and all he could do when hefound himself without it was to cover his face hastily with both hishands and moan that his teeth were knocked out. Don Quixote when he sawall that bundle of beard detached, without jaws or blood, from the faceof the fallen squire, exclaimed:"By the living God, but this is a great miracle! it has knocked off andplucked away the beard from his face as if it had been shaved offdesignedly."The curate, seeing the danger of discovery that threatened his scheme, atonce pounced upon the beard and hastened with it to where Master Nicholaslay, still uttering moans, and drawing his head to his breast had it onin an instant, muttering over him some words which he said were a certainspecial charm for sticking on beards, as they would see; and as soon ashe had it fixed he left him, and the squire appeared well bearded andwhole as before, whereat Don Quixote was beyond measure astonished, andbegged the curate to teach him that charm when he had an opportunity, ashe was persuaded its virtue must extend beyond the sticking on of beards,for it was clear that where the beard had been stripped off the fleshmust have remained torn and lacerated, and when it could heal all that itmust be good for more than beards."And so it is," said the curate, and he promised to teach it to him onthe first opportunity. They then agreed that for the present the curateshould mount, and that the three should ride by turns until they reachedthe inn, which might be about six leagues from where they were.Three then being mounted, that is to say, Don Quixote, the princess, andthe curate, and three on foot, Cardenio, the barber, and Sancho Panza,Don Quixote said to the damsel:"Let your highness, lady, lead on whithersoever is most pleasing to you;"but before she could answer the licentiate said:"Towards what kingdom would your ladyship direct our course? Is itperchance towards that of Micomicon? It must be, or else I know littleabout kingdoms."She, being ready on all points, understood that she was to answer "Yes,"so she said "Yes, senor, my way lies towards that kingdom.""In that case," said the curate, "we must pass right through my village,and there your worship will take the road to Cartagena, where you will beable to embark, fortune favouring; and if the wind be fair and the seasmooth and tranquil, in somewhat less than nine years you may come insight of the great lake Meona, I mean Meotides, which is little more thana hundred days' journey this side of your highness's kingdom.""Your worship is mistaken, senor," said she; "for it is not two yearssince I set out from it, and though I never had good weather,nevertheless I am here to behold what I so longed for, and that is mylord Don Quixote of La Mancha, whose fame came to my ears as soon as Iset foot in Spain and impelled me to go in search of him, to commendmyself to his courtesy, and entrust the justice of my cause to the mightof his invincible arm.""Enough; no more praise," said Don Quixote at this, "for I hate allflattery; and though this may not be so, still language of the kind isoffensive to my chaste ears. I will only say, senora, that whether it hasmight or not, that which it may or may not have shall be devoted to yourservice even to death; and now, leaving this to its proper season, Iwould ask the senor licentiate to tell me what it is that has brought himinto these parts, alone, unattended, and so lightly clad that I am filledwith amazement.""I will answer that briefly," replied the curate; "you must know then,Senor Don Quixote, that Master Nicholas, our friend and barber, and Iwere going to Seville to receive some money that a relative of mine whowent to the Indies many years ago had sent me, and not such a small sumbut that it was over sixty thousand pieces of eight, full weight, whichis something; and passing by this place yesterday we were attacked byfour footpads, who stripped us even to our beards, and them they strippedoff so that the barber found it necessary to put on a false one, and eventhis young man here"-pointing to Cardenio--"they completely transformed.But the best of it is, the story goes in the neighbourhood that those whoattacked us belong to a number of galley slaves who, they say, were setfree almost on the very same spot by a man of such valour that, in spiteof the commissary and of the guards, he released the whole of them; andbeyond all doubt he must have been out of his senses, or he must be asgreat a scoundrel as they, or some man without heart or conscience to letthe wolf loose among the sheep, the fox among the hens, the fly among thehoney. He has defrauded justice, and opposed his king and lawful master,for he opposed his just commands; he has, I say, robbed the galleys oftheir feet, stirred up the Holy Brotherhood which for many years past hasbeen quiet, and, lastly, has done a deed by which his soul may be lostwithout any gain to his body." Sancho had told the curate and the barberof the adventure of the galley slaves, which, so much to his glory, hismaster had achieved, and hence the curate in alluding to it made the mostof it to see what would be said or done by Don Quixote; who changedcolour at every word, not daring to say that it was he who had been theliberator of those worthy people. "These, then," said the curate, "werethey who robbed us; and God in his mercy pardon him who would not letthem go to the punishment they deserved."