PART I - CHAPTER XXXV.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　WHICH TREATS OF THE HEROIC AND PRODIGIOUS BATTLE DON QUIXOTE HAD WITHCERTAIN SKINS OF RED WINE, AND BRINGS THE NOVEL OF "THE ILL-ADVISEDCURIOSITY" TO A CLOSEThere remained but little more of the novel to be read, when Sancho Panzaburst forth in wild excitement from the garret where Don Quixote waslying, shouting, "Run, sirs! quick; and help my master, who is in thethick of the toughest and stiffest battle I ever laid eyes on. By theliving God he has given the giant, the enemy of my lady the PrincessMicomicona, such a slash that he has sliced his head clean off as if itwere a turnip.""What are you talking about, brother?" said the curate, pausing as he wasabout to read the remainder of the novel. "Are you in your senses,Sancho? How the devil can it be as you say, when the giant is twothousand leagues away?"Here they heard a loud noise in the chamber, and Don Quixote shoutingout, "Stand, thief, brigand, villain; now I have got thee, and thyscimitar shall not avail thee!" And then it seemed as though he wereslashing vigorously at the wall."Don't stop to listen," said Sancho, "but go in and part them or help mymaster: though there is no need of that now, for no doubt the giant isdead by this time and giving account to God of his past wicked life; forI saw the blood flowing on the ground, and the head cut off and fallen onone side, and it is as big as a large wine-skin.""May I die," said the landlord at this, "if Don Quixote or Don Devil hasnot been slashing some of the skins of red wine that stand full at hisbed's head, and the spilt wine must be what this good fellow takes forblood;" and so saying he went into the room and the rest after him, andthere they found Don Quixote in the strangest costume in the world. Hewas in his shirt, which was not long enough in front to cover his thighscompletely and was six fingers shorter behind; his legs were very longand lean, covered with hair, and anything but clean; on his head he had alittle greasy red cap that belonged to the host, round his left arm hehad rolled the blanket of the bed, to which Sancho, for reasons bestknown to himself, owed a grudge, and in his right hand he held hisunsheathed sword, with which he was slashing about on all sides, utteringexclamations as if he were actually fighting some giant: and the best ofit was his eyes were not open, for he was fast asleep, and dreaming thathe was doing battle with the giant. For his imagination was so wroughtupon by the adventure he was going to accomplish, that it made him dreamhe had already reached the kingdom of Micomicon, and was engaged incombat with his enemy; and believing he was laying on the giant, he hadgiven so many sword cuts to the skins that the whole room was full ofwine. On seeing this the landlord was so enraged that he fell on DonQuixote, and with his clenched fist began to pummel him in such a way,that if Cardenio and the curate had not dragged him off, he would havebrought the war of the giant to an end. But in spite of all the poorgentleman never woke until the barber brought a great pot of cold waterfrom the well and flung it with one dash all over his body, on which DonQuixote woke up, but not so completely as to understand what was thematter. Dorothea, seeing how short and slight his attire was, would notgo in to witness the battle between her champion and her opponent. As forSancho, he went searching all over the floor for the head of the giant,and not finding it he said, "I see now that it's all enchantment in thishouse; for the last time, on this very spot where I am now, I got ever somany thumps without knowing who gave them to me, or being able to seeanybody; and now this head is not to be seen anywhere about, though I sawit cut off with my own eyes and the blood running from the body as iffrom a fountain.""What blood and fountains are you talking about, enemy of God and hissaints?" said the landlord. "Don't you see, you thief, that the blood andthe fountain are only these skins here that have been stabbed and the redwine swimming all over the room?--and I wish I saw the soul of him thatstabbed them swimming in hell.""I know nothing about that," said Sancho; "all I know is it will be mybad luck that through not finding this head my county will melt away likesalt in water;"--for Sancho awake was worse than his master asleep, somuch had his master's promises addled his wits.The landlord was beside himself at the coolness of the squire and themischievous doings of the master, and swore it should not be like thelast time when they went without paying; and that their privileges ofchivalry should not hold good this time to let one or other of them offwithout paying, even to the cost of the plugs that would have to be putto the damaged wine-skins. The curate was holding Don Quixote's hands,who, fancying he had now ended the adventure and was in the presence ofthe Princess Micomicona, knelt before the curate and said, "Exalted andbeauteous lady, your highness may live from this day forth fearless ofany harm this base being could do you; and I too from this day forth amreleased from the promise I gave you, since by the help of God on highand by the favour of her by whom I live and breathe, I have fulfilled itso successfully.""Did not I say so?" said Sancho on hearing this. "You see I wasn't drunk;there you see my master has already salted the giant; there's no doubtabout the bulls; my county is all right!"Who could have helped laughing at the absurdities of the pair, master andman? And laugh they did, all except the landlord, who cursed himself; butat length the barber, Cardenio, and the curate contrived with no smalltrouble to get Don Quixote on the bed, and he fell asleep with everyappearance of excessive weariness. They left him to sleep, and came outto the gate of the inn to console Sancho Panza on not having found thehead of the giant; but much more work had they to appease the landlord,who was furious at the sudden death of his wine-skins; and said thelandlady half scolding, half crying, "At an evil moment and in an unluckyhour he came into my house, this knight-errant--would that I had neverset eyes on him, for dear he has cost me; the last time he went off withthe overnight score against him for supper, bed, straw, and barley, forhimself and his squire and a hack and an ass, saying he was a knightadventurer--God send unlucky adventures to him and all the adventurers inthe world--and therefore not bound to pay anything, for it was so settledby the knight-errantry tariff: and then, all because of him, came theother gentleman and carried off my tail, and gives it back more than twocuartillos the worse, all stripped of its hair, so that it is no use formy husband's purpose; and then, for a finishing touch to all, to burst mywine-skins and spill my wine! I wish I saw his own blood spilt! But lethim not deceive himself, for, by the bones of my father and the shade ofmy mother, they shall pay me down every quarts; or my name is not what itis, and I am not my father's daughter." All this and more to the sameeffect the landlady delivered with great irritation, and her good maidMaritornes backed her up, while the daughter held her peace and smiledfrom time to time. The curate smoothed matters by promising to make goodall losses to the best of his power, not only as regarded the wine-skinsbut also the wine, and above all the depreciation of the tail which theyset such store by. Dorothea comforted Sancho, telling him that shepledged herself, as soon as it should appear certain that his master haddecapitated the giant, and she found herself peacefully established inher kingdom, to bestow upon him the best county there was in it. Withthis Sancho consoled himself, and assured the princess she might relyupon it that he had seen the head of the giant, and more by token it hada beard that reached to the girdle, and that if it was not to be seen nowit was because everything that happened in that house went byenchantment, as he himself had proved the last time he had lodged there.Dorothea said she fully believed it, and that he need not be uneasy, forall would go well and turn out as he wished. All therefore beingappeased, the curate was anxious to go on with the novel, as he saw therewas but little more left to read. Dorothea and the others begged him tofinish it, and he, as he was willing to please them, and enjoyed readingit himself, continued the tale in these words:The result was, that from the confidence Anselmo felt in Camilla'svirtue, he lived happy and free from anxiety, and Camilla purposelylooked coldly on Lothario, that Anselmo might suppose her feelingstowards him to be the opposite of what they were; and the better tosupport the position, Lothario begged to be excused from coming to thehouse, as the displeasure with which Camilla regarded his presence wasplain to be seen. But the befooled Anselmo said he would on no accountallow such a thing, and so in a thousand ways he became the author of hisown dishonour, while he believed he was insuring his happiness. Meanwhilethe satisfaction with which Leonela saw herself empowered to carry on heramour reached such a height that, regardless of everything else, shefollowed her inclinations unrestrainedly, feeling confident that hermistress would screen her, and even show her how to manage it safely. Atlast one night Anselmo heard footsteps in Leonela's room, and on tryingto enter to see who it was, he found that the door was held against him,which made him all the more determined to open it; and exerting hisstrength he forced it open, and entered the room in time to see a manleaping through the window into the street. He ran quickly to seize himor discover who he was, but he was unable to effect either purpose, forLeonela flung her arms round him crying, "Be calm, senor; do not give wayto passion or follow him who has escaped from this; he belongs to me, andin fact he is my husband."Anselmo would not believe it, but blind with rage drew a dagger andthreatened to stab Leonela, bidding her tell the truth or he would killher. She, in her fear, not knowing what she was saying, exclaimed, "Donot kill me, senor, for I can tell you things more important than any youcan imagine.""Tell me then at once or thou diest," said Anselmo."It would be impossible for me now," said Leonela, "I am so agitated:leave me till to-morrow, and then you shall hear from me what will fillyou with astonishment; but rest assured that he who leaped through thewindow is a young man of this city, who has given me his promise tobecome my husband."Anselmo was appeased with this, and was content to wait the time sheasked of him, for he never expected to hear anything against Camilla, sosatisfied and sure of her virtue was he; and so he quitted the room, andleft Leonela locked in, telling her she should not come out until she hadtold him all she had to make known to him. He went at once to seeCamilla, and tell her, as he did, all that had passed between him and herhandmaid, and the promise she had given him to inform him matters ofserious importance.There is no need of saying whether Camilla was agitated or not, for sogreat was her fear and dismay, that, making sure, as she had good reasonto do, that Leonela would tell Anselmo all she knew of her faithlessness,she had not the courage to wait and see if her suspicions were confirmed;and that same night, as soon as she thought that Anselmo was asleep, shepacked up the most valuable jewels she had and some money, and withoutbeing observed by anybody escaped from the house and betook herself toLothario's, to whom she related what had occurred, imploring him toconvey her to some place of safety or fly with her where they might besafe from Anselmo. The state of perplexity to which Camilla reducedLothario was such that he was unable to utter a word in reply, still lessto decide upon what he should do. At length he resolved to conduct her toa convent of which a sister of his was prioress; Camilla agreed to this,and with the speed which the circumstances demanded, Lothario took her tothe convent and left her there, and then himself quitted the city withoutletting anyone know of his departure.As soon as daylight came Anselmo, without missing Camilla from his side,rose cager to learn what Leonela had to tell him, and hastened to theroom where he had locked her in. He opened the door, entered, but foundno Leonela; all he found was some sheets knotted to the window, a plainproof that she had let herself down from it and escaped. He returned,uneasy, to tell Camilla, but not finding her in bed or anywhere in thehouse he was lost in amazement. He asked the servants of the house abouther, but none of them could give him any explanation. As he was going insearch of Camilla it happened by chance that he observed her boxes werelying open, and that the greater part of her jewels were gone; and now hebecame fully aware of his disgrace, and that Leonela was not the cause ofhis misfortune; and, just as he was, without delaying to dress himselfcompletely, he repaired, sad at heart and dejected, to his friendLothario to make known his sorrow to him; but when he failed to find himand the servants reported that he had been absent from his house allnight and had taken with him all the money he had, he felt as though hewere losing his senses; and to make all complete on returning to his ownhouse he found it deserted and empty, not one of all his servants, maleor female, remaining in it. He knew not what to think, or say, or do, andhis reason seemed to be deserting him little by little. He reviewed hisposition, and saw himself in a moment left without wife, friend, orservants, abandoned, he felt, by the heaven above him, and more than allrobbed of his honour, for in Camilla's disappearance he saw his own ruin.After long reflection he resolved at last to go to his friend's village,where he had been staying when he afforded opportunities for thecontrivance of this complication of misfortune. He locked the doors ofhis house, mounted his horse, and with a broken spirit set out on hisjourney; but he had hardly gone half-way when, harassed by hisreflections, he had to dismount and tie his horse to a tree, at the footof which he threw himself, giving vent to piteous heartrending sighs; andthere he remained till nearly nightfall, when he observed a manapproaching on horseback from the city, of whom, after saluting him, heasked what was the news in Florence.The citizen replied, "The strangest that have been heard for many a day;for it is reported abroad that Lothario, the great friend of the wealthyAnselmo, who lived at San Giovanni, carried off last night Camilla, thewife of Anselmo, who also has disappeared. All this has been told by amaid-servant of Camilla's, whom the governor found last night loweringherself by a sheet from the windows of Anselmo's house. I know notindeed, precisely, how the affair came to pass; all I know is that thewhole city is wondering at the occurrence, for no one could have expecteda thing of the kind, seeing the great and intimate friendship thatexisted between them, so great, they say, that they were called 'The TwoFriends.'""Is it known at all," said Anselmo, "what road Lothario and Camillatook?""Not in the least," said the citizen, "though the governor has been veryactive in searching for them.""God speed you, senor," said Anselmo."God be with you," said the citizen and went his way.This disastrous intelligence almost robbed Anselmo not only of his sensesbut of his life. He got up as well as he was able and reached the houseof his friend, who as yet knew nothing of his misfortune, but seeing himcome pale, worn, and haggard, perceived that he was suffering some heavyaffliction. Anselmo at once begged to be allowed to retire to rest, andto be given writing materials. His wish was complied with and he was leftlying down and alone, for he desired this, and even that the door shouldbe locked. Finding himself alone he so took to heart the thought of hismisfortune that by the signs of death he felt within him he knew well hislife was drawing to a close, and therefore he resolved to leave behindhim a declaration of the cause of his strange end. He began to write, butbefore he had put down all he meant to say, his breath failed him and heyielded up his life, a victim to the suffering which his ill-advisedcuriosity had entailed upon him. The master of the house observing thatit was now late and that Anselmo did not call, determined to go in andascertain if his indisposition was increasing, and found him lying on hisface, his body partly in the bed, partly on the writing-table, on whichhe lay with the written paper open and the pen still in his hand. Havingfirst called to him without receiving any answer, his host approachedhim, and taking him by the hand, found that it was cold, and saw that hewas dead. Greatly surprised and distressed he summoned the household towitness the sad fate which had befallen Anselmo; and then he read thepaper, the handwriting of which he recognised as his, and which containedthese words:"A foolish and ill-advised desire has robbed me of life. If the news ofmy death should reach the ears of Camilla, let her know that I forgiveher, for she was not bound to perform miracles, nor ought I to haverequired her to perform them; and since I have been the author of my owndishonour, there is no reason why-"So far Anselmo had written, and thus it was plain that at this point,before he could finish what he had to say, his life came to an end. Thenext day his friend sent intelligence of his death to his relatives, whohad already ascertained his misfortune, as well as the convent whereCamilla lay almost on the point of accompanying her husband on thatinevitable journey, not on account of the tidings of his death, butbecause of those she received of her lover's departure. Although she sawherself a widow, it is said she refused either to quit the convent ortake the veil, until, not long afterwards, intelligence reached her thatLothario had been killed in a battle in which M. de Lautrec had beenrecently engaged with the Great Captain Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova inthe kingdom of Naples, whither her too late repentant lover had repaired.On learning this Camilla took the veil, and shortly afterwards died, wornout by grief and melancholy. This was the end of all three, an end thatcame of a thoughtless beginning."I like this novel," said the curate; "but I cannot persuade myself ofits truth; and if it has been invented, the author's invention is faulty,for it is impossible to imagine any husband so foolish as to try such acostly experiment as Anselmo's. If it had been represented as occurringbetween a gallant and his mistress it might pass; but between husband andwife there is something of an impossibility about it. As to the way inwhich the story is told, however, I have no fault to find."