WHICH TREATS OF MORE CURIOUS INCIDENTS THAT OCCURRED AT THE INNJust at that instant the landlord, who was standing at the gate of theinn, exclaimed, "Here comes a fine troop of guests; if they stop here wemay say gaudeamus.""What are they?" said Cardenio."Four men," said the landlord, "riding a la jineta, with lances andbucklers, and all with black veils, and with them there is a woman inwhite on a side-saddle, whose face is also veiled, and two attendants onfoot.""Are they very near?" said the curate."So near," answered the landlord, "that here they come."Hearing this Dorothea covered her face, and Cardenio retreated into DonQuixote's room, and they hardly had time to do so before the whole partythe host had described entered the inn, and the four that were onhorseback, who were of highbred appearance and bearing, dismounted, andcame forward to take down the woman who rode on the side-saddle, and oneof them taking her in his arms placed her in a chair that stood at theentrance of the room where Cardenio had hidden himself. All this timeneither she nor they had removed their veils or spoken a word, only onsitting down on the chair the woman gave a deep sigh and let her armsfall like one that was ill and weak. The attendants on foot then led thehorses away to the stable. Observing this the curate, curious to know whothese people in such a dress and preserving such silence were, went towhere the servants were standing and put the question to one of them, whoanswered him."Faith, sir, I cannot tell you who they are, I only know they seem to bepeople of distinction, particularly he who advanced to take the lady yousaw in his arms; and I say so because all the rest show him respect, andnothing is done except what he directs and orders.""And the lady, who is she?" asked the curate."That I cannot tell you either," said the servant, "for I have not seenher face all the way: I have indeed heard her sigh many times and uttersuch groans that she seems to be giving up the ghost every time; but itis no wonder if we do not know more than we have told you, as my comradeand I have only been in their company two days, for having met us on theroad they begged and persuaded us to accompany them to Andalusia,promising to pay us well.""And have you heard any of them called by his name?" asked the curate."No, indeed," replied the servant; "they all preserve a marvelloussilence on the road, for not a sound is to be heard among them except thepoor lady's sighs and sobs, which make us pity her; and we feel sure thatwherever it is she is going, it is against her will, and as far as onecan judge from her dress she is a nun or, what is more likely, about tobecome one; and perhaps it is because taking the vows is not of her ownfree will, that she is so unhappy as she seems to be.""That may well be," said the curate, and leaving them he returned towhere Dorothea was, who, hearing the veiled lady sigh, moved by naturalcompassion drew near to her and said, "What are you suffering from,senora? If it be anything that women are accustomed and know how torelieve, I offer you my services with all my heart."To this the unhappy lady made no reply; and though Dorothea repeated heroffers more earnestly she still kept silence, until the gentleman withthe veil, who, the servant said, was obeyed by the rest, approached andsaid to Dorothea, "Do not give yourself the trouble, senora, of makingany offers to that woman, for it is her way to give no thanks foranything that is done for her; and do not try to make her answer unlessyou want to hear some lie from her lips.""I have never told a lie," was the immediate reply of her who had beensilent until now; "on the contrary, it is because I am so truthful and soignorant of lying devices that I am now in this miserable condition; andthis I call you yourself to witness, for it is my unstained truth thathas made you false and a liar."Cardenio heard these words clearly and distinctly, being quite close tothe speaker, for there was only the door of Don Quixote's room betweenthem, and the instant he did so, uttering a loud exclamation he cried,"Good God! what is this I hear? What voice is this that has reached myears?" Startled at the voice the lady turned her head; and not seeing thespeaker she stood up and attempted to enter the room; observing which thegentleman held her back, preventing her from moving a step. In heragitation and sudden movement the silk with which she had covered herface fell off and disclosed a countenance of incomparable and marvellousbeauty, but pale and terrified; for she kept turning her eyes, everywhereshe could direct her gaze, with an eagerness that made her look as if shehad lost her senses, and so marked that it excited the pity of Dorotheaand all who beheld her, though they knew not what caused it. Thegentleman grasped her firmly by the shoulders, and being so fullyoccupied with holding her back, he was unable to put a hand to his veilwhich was falling off, as it did at length entirely, and Dorothea, whowas holding the lady in her arms, raising her eyes saw that he wholikewise held her was her husband, Don Fernando. The instant sherecognised him, with a prolonged plaintive cry drawn from the depths ofher heart, she fell backwards fainting, and but for the barber beingclose by to catch her in his arms, she would have fallen completely tothe ground. The curate at once hastened to uncover her face and throwwater on it, and as he did so Don Fernando, for he it was who held theother in his arms, recognised her and stood as if death-stricken by thesight; not, however, relaxing his grasp of Luscinda, for it was she thatwas struggling to release herself from his hold, having recognisedCardenio by his voice, as he had recognised her. Cardenio also heardDorothea's cry as she fell fainting, and imagining that it came from hisLuscinda burst forth in terror from the room, and the first thing he sawwas Don Fernando with Luscinda in his arms. Don Fernando, too, knewCardenio at once; and all three, Luscinda, Cardenio, and Dorothea, stoodin silent amazement scarcely knowing what had happened to them.They gazed at one another without speaking, Dorothea at Don Fernando, DonFernando at Cardenio, Cardenio at Luscinda, and Luscinda at Cardenio. Thefirst to break silence was Luscinda, who thus addressed Don Fernando:"Leave me, Senor Don Fernando, for the sake of what you owe to yourself;if no other reason will induce you, leave me to cling to the wall ofwhich I am the ivy, to the support from which neither your importunities,nor your threats, nor your promises, nor your gifts have been able todetach me. See how Heaven, by ways strange and hidden from our sight, hasbrought me face to face with my true husband; and well you know bydear-bought experience that death alone will be able to efface him frommy memory. May this plain declaration, then, lead you, as you can donothing else, to turn your love into rage, your affection intoresentment, and so to take my life; for if I yield it up in the presenceof my beloved husband I count it well bestowed; it may be by my death hewill be convinced that I kept my faith to him to the last moment oflife."Meanwhile Dorothea had come to herself, and had heard Luscinda's words,by means of which she divined who she was; but seeing that Don Fernandodid not yet release her or reply to her, summoning up her resolution aswell as she could she rose and knelt at his feet, and with a flood ofbright and touching tears addressed him thus:"If, my lord, the beams of that sun that thou holdest eclipsed in thinearms did not dazzle and rob thine eyes of sight thou wouldst have seen bythis time that she who kneels at thy feet is, so long as thou wilt haveit so, the unhappy and unfortunate Dorothea. I am that lowly peasant girlwhom thou in thy goodness or for thy pleasure wouldst raise high enoughto call herself thine; I am she who in the seclusion of innocence led acontented life until at the voice of thy importunity, and thy true andtender passion, as it seemed, she opened the gates of her modesty andsurrendered to thee the keys of her liberty; a gift received by thee butthanklessly, as is clearly shown by my forced retreat to the place wherethou dost find me, and by thy appearance under the circumstances in whichI see thee. Nevertheless, I would not have thee suppose that I have comehere driven by my shame; it is only grief and sorrow at seeing myselfforgotten by thee that have led me. It was thy will to make me thine, andthou didst so follow thy will, that now, even though thou repentest, thoucanst not help being mine. Bethink thee, my lord, the unsurpassableaffection I bear thee may compensate for the beauty and noble birth forwhich thou wouldst desert me. Thou canst not be the fair Luscinda'sbecause thou art mine, nor can she be thine because she is Cardenio's;and it will be easier, remember, to bend thy will to love one who adoresthee, than to lead one to love thee who abhors thee now. Thou didstaddress thyself to my simplicity, thou didst lay siege to my virtue, thouwert not ignorant of my station, well dost thou know how I yielded whollyto thy will; there is no ground or reason for thee to plead deception,and if it be so, as it is, and if thou art a Christian as thou art agentleman, why dost thou by such subterfuges put off making me as happyat last as thou didst at first? And if thou wilt not have me for what Iam, thy true and lawful wife, at least take and accept me as thy slave,for so long as I am thine I will count myself happy and fortunate. Do notby deserting me let my shame become the talk of the gossips in thestreets; make not the old age of my parents miserable; for the loyalservices they as faithful vassals have ever rendered thine are notdeserving of such a return; and if thou thinkest it will debase thy bloodto mingle it with mine, reflect that there is little or no nobility inthe world that has not travelled the same road, and that in illustriouslineages it is not the woman's blood that is of account; and, moreover,that true nobility consists in virtue, and if thou art wanting in that,refusing me what in justice thou owest me, then even I have higher claimsto nobility than thine. To make an end, senor, these are my last words tothee: whether thou wilt, or wilt not, I am thy wife; witness thy words,which must not and ought not to be false, if thou dost pride thyself onthat for want of which thou scornest me; witness the pledge which thoudidst give me, and witness Heaven, which thou thyself didst call towitness the promise thou hadst made me; and if all this fail, thy ownconscience will not fail to lift up its silent voice in the midst of allthy gaiety, and vindicate the truth of what I say and mar thy highestpleasure and enjoyment."All this and more the injured Dorothea delivered with such earnestfeeling and such tears that all present, even those who came with DonFernando, were constrained to join her in them. Don Fernando listened toher without replying, until, ceasing to speak, she gave way to such sobsand sighs that it must have been a heart of brass that was not softenedby the sight of so great sorrow. Luscinda stood regarding her with noless compassion for her sufferings than admiration for her intelligenceand beauty, and would have gone to her to say some words of comfort toher, but was prevented by Don Fernando's grasp which held her fast. He,overwhelmed with confusion and astonishment, after regarding Dorothea forsome moments with a fixed gaze, opened his arms, and, releasing Luscinda,exclaimed:"Thou hast conquered, fair Dorothea, thou hast conquered, for it isimpossible to have the heart to deny the united force of so many truths."Luscinda in her feebleness was on the point of falling to the ground whenDon Fernando released her, but Cardenio, who stood near, having retreatedbehind Don Fernando to escape recognition, casting fear aside andregardless of what might happen, ran forward to support her, and said ashe clasped her in his arms, "If Heaven in its compassion is willing tolet thee rest at last, mistress of my heart, true, constant, and fair,nowhere canst thou rest more safely than in these arms that now receivethee, and received thee before when fortune permitted me to call theemine."At these words Luscinda looked up at Cardenio, at first beginning torecognise him by his voice and then satisfying herself by her eyes thatit was he, and hardly knowing what she did, and heedless of allconsiderations of decorum, she flung her arms around his neck andpressing her face close to his, said, "Yes, my dear lord, you are thetrue master of this your slave, even though adverse fate interpose again,and fresh dangers threaten this life that hangs on yours."A strange sight was this for Don Fernando and those that stood around,filled with surprise at an incident so unlooked for. Dorothea fanciedthat Don Fernando changed colour and looked as though he meant to takevengeance on Cardenio, for she observed him put his hand to his sword;and the instant the idea struck her, with wonderful quickness she claspedhim round the knees, and kissing them and holding him so as to preventhis moving, she said, while her tears continued to flow, "What is it thouwouldst do, my only refuge, in this unforeseen event? Thou hast thy wifeat thy feet, and she whom thou wouldst have for thy wife is in the armsof her husband: reflect whether it will be right for thee, whether itwill be possible for thee to undo what Heaven has done, or whether itwill be becoming in thee to seek to raise her to be thy mate who in spiteof every obstacle, and strong in her truth and constancy, is before thineeyes, bathing with the tears of love the face and bosom of her lawfulhusband. For God's sake I entreat of thee, for thine own I implore thee,let not this open manifestation rouse thy anger; but rather so calm it asto allow these two lovers to live in peace and quiet without anyinterference from thee so long as Heaven permits them; and in so doingthou wilt prove the generosity of thy lofty noble spirit, and the worldshall see that with thee reason has more influence than passion."All the time Dorothea was speaking, Cardenio, though he held Luscinda inhis arms, never took his eyes off Don Fernando, determined, if he saw himmake any hostile movement, to try and defend himself and resist as besthe could all who might assail him, though it should cost him his life.But now Don Fernando's friends, as well as the curate and the barber, whohad been present all the while, not forgetting the worthy Sancho Panza,ran forward and gathered round Don Fernando, entreating him to haveregard for the tears of Dorothea, and not suffer her reasonable hopes tobe disappointed, since, as they firmly believed, what she said was butthe truth; and bidding him observe that it was not, as it might seem, byaccident, but by a special disposition of Providence that they had allmet in a place where no one could have expected a meeting. And the curatebade him remember that only death could part Luscinda from Cardenio; thateven if some sword were to separate them they would think their deathmost happy; and that in a case that admitted of no remedy his wisestcourse was, by conquering and putting a constraint upon himself, to showa generous mind, and of his own accord suffer these two to enjoy thehappiness Heaven had granted them. He bade him, too, turn his eyes uponthe beauty of Dorothea and he would see that few if any could equal muchless excel her; while to that beauty should be added her modesty and thesurpassing love she bore him. But besides all this, he reminded him thatif he prided himself on being a gentleman and a Christian, he could notdo otherwise than keep his plighted word; and that in doing so he wouldobey God and meet the approval of all sensible people, who know andrecognised it to be the privilege of beauty, even in one of humble birth,provided virtue accompany it, to be able to raise itself to the level ofany rank, without any slur upon him who places it upon an equality withhimself; and furthermore that when the potent sway of passion assertsitself, so long as there be no mixture of sin in it, he is not to beblamed who gives way to it.To be brief, they added to these such other forcible arguments that DonFernando's manly heart, being after all nourished by noble blood, wastouched, and yielded to the truth which, even had he wished it, he couldnot gainsay; and he showed his submission, and acceptance of the goodadvice that had been offered to him, by stooping down and embracingDorothea, saying to her, "Rise, dear lady, it is not right that what Ihold in my heart should be kneeling at my feet; and if until now I haveshown no sign of what I own, it may have been by Heaven's decree in orderthat, seeing the constancy with which you love me, I may learn to valueyou as you deserve. What I entreat of you is that you reproach me notwith my transgression and grievous wrong-doing; for the same cause andforce that drove me to make you mine impelled me to struggle againstbeing yours; and to prove this, turn and look at the eyes of the nowhappy Luscinda, and you will see in them an excuse for all my errors: andas she has found and gained the object of her desires, and I have foundin you what satisfies all my wishes, may she live in peace andcontentment as many happy years with her Cardenio, as on my knees I prayHeaven to allow me to live with my Dorothea;" and with these words heonce more embraced her and pressed his face to hers with so muchtenderness that he had to take great heed to keep his tears fromcompleting the proof of his love and repentance in the sight of all. Notso Luscinda, and Cardenio, and almost all the others, for they shed somany tears, some in their own happiness, some at that of the others, thatone would have supposed a heavy calamity had fallen upon them all. EvenSancho Panza was weeping; though afterwards he said he only wept becausehe saw that Dorothea was not as he fancied the queen Micomicona, of whomhe expected such great favours. Their wonder as well as their weepinglasted some time, and then Cardenio and Luscinda went and fell on theirknees before Don Fernando, returning him thanks for the favour he hadrendered them in language so grateful that he knew not how to answerthem, and raising them up embraced them with every mark of affection andcourtesy.He then asked Dorothea how she had managed to reach a place so farremoved from her own home, and she in a few fitting words told all thatshe had previously related to Cardenio, with which Don Fernando and hiscompanions were so delighted that they wished the story had been longer;so charmingly did Dorothea describe her misadventures. When she hadfinished Don Fernando recounted what had befallen him in the city afterhe had found in Luscinda's bosom the paper in which she declared that shewas Cardenio's wife, and never could be his. He said he meant to killher, and would have done so had he not been prevented by her parents, andthat he quitted the house full of rage and shame, and resolved to avengehimself when a more convenient opportunity should offer. The next day helearned that Luscinda had disappeared from her father's house, and thatno one could tell whither she had gone. Finally, at the end of somemonths he ascertained that she was in a convent and meant to remain thereall the rest of her life, if she were not to share it with Cardenio; andas soon as he had learned this, taking these three gentlemen as hiscompanions, he arrived at the place where she was, but avoided speakingto her, fearing that if it were known he was there stricter precautionswould be taken in the convent; and watching a time when the porter'slodge was open he left two to guard the gate, and he and the otherentered the convent in quest of Luscinda, whom they found in thecloisters in conversation with one of the nuns, and carrying her offwithout giving her time to resist, they reached a place with her wherethey provided themselves with what they required for taking her away; allwhich they were able to do in complete safety, as the convent was in thecountry at a considerable distance from the city. He added that whenLuscinda found herself in his power she lost all consciousness, and afterreturning to herself did nothing but weep and sigh without speaking aword; and thus in silence and tears they reached that inn, which for himwas reaching heaven where all the mischances of earth are over and at anend.