PART II - CHAPTER XXIII.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　OF THE WONDERFUL THINGS THE INCOMPARABLE DON QUIXOTE SAID HE SAW IN THEPROFOUND CAVE OF MONTESINOS, THE IMPOSSIBILITY AND MAGNITUDE OF WHICHCAUSE THIS ADVENTURE TO BE DEEMED APOCRYPHALIt was about four in the afternoon when the sun, veiled in clouds, withsubdued light and tempered beams, enabled Don Quixote to relate, withoutheat or inconvenience, what he had seen in the cave of Montesinos to histwo illustrious hearers, and he began as follows:"A matter of some twelve or fourteen times a man's height down in thispit, on the right-hand side, there is a recess or space, roomy enough tocontain a large cart with its mules. A little light reaches it throughsome chinks or crevices, communicating with it and open to the surface ofthe earth. This recess or space I perceived when I was already growingweary and disgusted at finding myself hanging suspended by the rope,travelling downwards into that dark region without any certainty orknowledge of where I was going, so I resolved to enter it and rest myselffor a while. I called out, telling you not to let out more rope until Ibade you, but you cannot have heard me. I then gathered in the rope youwere sending me, and making a coil or pile of it I seated myself upon it,ruminating and considering what I was to do to lower myself to thebottom, having no one to hold me up; and as I was thus deep in thoughtand perplexity, suddenly and without provocation a profound sleep fellupon me, and when I least expected it, I know not how, I awoke and foundmyself in the midst of the most beautiful, delightful meadow that naturecould produce or the most lively human imagination conceive. I opened myeyes, I rubbed them, and found I was not asleep but thoroughly awake.Nevertheless, I felt my head and breast to satisfy myself whether it wasI myself who was there or some empty delusive phantom; but touch,feeling, the collected thoughts that passed through my mind, allconvinced me that I was the same then and there that I am this moment.Next there presented itself to my sight a stately royal palace or castle,with walls that seemed built of clear transparent crystal; and throughtwo great doors that opened wide therein, I saw coming forth andadvancing towards me a venerable old man, clad in a long gown ofmulberry-coloured serge that trailed upon the ground. On his shouldersand breast he had a green satin collegiate hood, and covering his head ablack Milanese bonnet, and his snow-white beard fell below his girdle. Hecarried no arms whatever, nothing but a rosary of beads bigger thanfair-sized filberts, each tenth bead being like a moderate ostrich egg;his bearing, his gait, his dignity and imposing presence held mespellbound and wondering. He approached me, and the first thing he didwas to embrace me closely, and then he said to me, 'For a long time now,O valiant knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, we who are here enchanted inthese solitudes have been hoping to see thee, that thou mayest make knownto the world what is shut up and concealed in this deep cave, called thecave of Montesinos, which thou hast entered, an achievement reserved forthy invincible heart and stupendous courage alone to attempt. Come withme, illustrious sir, and I will show thee the marvels hidden within thistransparent castle, whereof I am the alcaide and perpetual warden; for Iam Montesinos himself, from whom the cave takes its name.'"The instant he told me he was Montesinos, I asked him if the story theytold in the world above here was true, that he had taken out the heart ofhis great friend Durandarte from his breast with a little dagger, andcarried it to the lady Belerma, as his friend when at the point of deathhad commanded him. He said in reply that they spoke the truth in everyrespect except as to the dagger, for it was not a dagger, nor little, buta burnished poniard sharper than an awl.""That poniard must have been made by Ramon de Hoces the Sevillian," saidSancho."I do not know," said Don Quixote; "it could not have been by thatponiard maker, however, because Ramon de Hoces was a man of yesterday,and the affair of Roncesvalles, where this mishap occurred, was long ago;but the question is of no great importance, nor does it affect or makeany alteration in the truth or substance of the story.""That is true," said the cousin; "continue, Senor Don Quixote, for I amlistening to you with the greatest pleasure in the world.""And with no less do I tell the tale," said Don Quixote; "and so, toproceed--the venerable Montesinos led me into the palace of crystal,where, in a lower chamber, strangely cool and entirely of alabaster, wasan elaborately wrought marble tomb, upon which I beheld, stretched atfull length, a knight, not of bronze, or marble, or jasper, as are seenon other tombs, but of actual flesh and bone. His right hand (whichseemed to me somewhat hairy and sinewy, a sign of great strength in itsowner) lay on the side of his heart; but before I could put any questionto Montesinos, he, seeing me gazing at the tomb in amazement, said to me,'This is my friend Durandarte, flower and mirror of the true lovers andvaliant knights of his time. He is held enchanted here, as I myself andmany others are, by that French enchanter Merlin, who, they say, was thedevil's son; but my belief is, not that he was the devil's son, but thathe knew, as the saying is, a point more than the devil. How or why heenchanted us, no one knows, but time will tell, and I suspect that timeis not far off. What I marvel at is, that I know it to be as sure as thatit is now day, that Durandarte ended his life in my arms, and that, afterhis death, I took out his heart with my own hands; and indeed it musthave weighed more than two pounds, for, according to naturalists, he whohas a large heart is more largely endowed with valour than he who has asmall one. Then, as this is the case, and as the knight did really die,how comes it that he now moans and sighs from time to time, as if he werestill alive?'"As he said this, the wretched Durandarte cried out in a loud voice: O cousin Montesinos! 'T was my last request of thee, When my soul hath left the body, And that lying dead I be, With thy poniard or thy dagger Cut the heart from out my breast, And bear it to Belerma. This was my last request." On hearing which, the venerable Montesinos fell on his knees before theunhappy knight, and with tearful eyes exclaimed, 'Long since, SenorDurandarte, my beloved cousin, long since have I done what you bade me onthat sad day when I lost you; I took out your heart as well as I could,not leaving an atom of it in your breast, I wiped it with a lacehandkerchief, and I took the road to France with it, having first laidyou in the bosom of the earth with tears enough to wash and cleanse myhands of the blood that covered them after wandering among your bowels;and more by token, O cousin of my soul, at the first village I came toafter leaving Roncesvalles, I sprinkled a little salt upon your heart tokeep it sweet, and bring it, if not fresh, at least pickled, into thepresence of the lady Belerma, whom, together with you, myself, Guadianayour squire, the duenna Ruidera and her seven daughters and two nieces,and many more of your friends and acquaintances, the sage Merlin has beenkeeping enchanted here these many years; and although more than fivehundred have gone by, not one of us has died; Ruidera and her daughtersand nieces alone are missing, and these, because of the tears they shed,Merlin, out of the compassion he seems to have felt for them, changedinto so many lakes, which to this day in the world of the living, and inthe province of La Mancha, are called the Lakes of Ruidera. The sevendaughters belong to the kings of Spain and the two nieces to the knightsof a very holy order called the Order of St. John. Guadiana your squire,likewise bewailing your fate, was changed into a river of his own name,but when he came to the surface and beheld the sun of another heaven, sogreat was his grief at finding he was leaving you, that he plunged intothe bowels of the earth; however, as he cannot help following his naturalcourse, he from time to time comes forth and shows himself to the sun andthe world. The lakes aforesaid send him their waters, and with these, andothers that come to him, he makes a grand and imposing entrance intoPortugal; but for all that, go where he may, he shows his melancholy andsadness, and takes no pride in breeding dainty choice fish, only coarseand tasteless sorts, very different from those of the golden Tagus. Allthis that I tell you now, O cousin mine, I have told you many timesbefore, and as you make no answer, I fear that either you believe me not,or do not hear me, whereat I feel God knows what grief. I have now newsto give you, which, if it serves not to alleviate your sufferings, willnot in any wise increase them. Know that you have here before you (openyour eyes and you will see) that great knight of whom the sage Merlin hasprophesied such great things; that Don Quixote of La Mancha I mean, whohas again, and to better purpose than in past times, revived in thesedays knight-errantry, long since forgotten, and by whose intervention andaid it may be we shall be disenchanted; for great deeds are reserved forgreat men.'"'And if that may not be,' said the wretched Durandarte in a low andfeeble voice, 'if that may not be, then, my cousin, I say "patience andshuffle;"' and turning over on his side, he relapsed into his formersilence without uttering another word."And now there was heard a great outcry and lamentation, accompanied bydeep sighs and bitter sobs. I looked round, and through the crystal wallI saw passing through another chamber a procession of two lines of fairdamsels all clad in mourning, and with white turbans of Turkish fashionon their heads. Behind, in the rear of these, there came a lady, for sofrom her dignity she seemed to be, also clad in black, with a white veilso long and ample that it swept the ground. Her turban was twice as largeas the largest of any of the others; her eyebrows met, her nose wasrather flat, her mouth was large but with ruddy lips, and her teeth, ofwhich at times she allowed a glimpse, were seen to be sparse and ill-set,though as white as peeled almonds. She carried in her hands a fine cloth,and in it, as well as I could make out, a heart that had been mummied, soparched and dried was it. Montesinos told me that all those forming theprocession were the attendants of Durandarte and Belerma, who wereenchanted there with their master and mistress, and that the last, shewho carried the heart in the cloth, was the lady Belerma, who, with herdamsels, four days in the week went in procession singing, or ratherweeping, dirges over the body and miserable heart of his cousin; and thatif she appeared to me somewhat ill-favoured or not so beautiful as famereported her, it was because of the bad nights and worse days that shepassed in that enchantment, as I could see by the great dark circlesround her eyes, and her sickly complexion; 'her sallowness, and the ringsround her eyes,' said he, 'are not caused by the periodical ailment usualwith women, for it is many months and even years since she has had any,but by the grief her own heart suffers because of that which she holds inher hand perpetually, and which recalls and brings back to her memory thesad fate of her lost lover; were it not for this, hardly would the greatDulcinea del Toboso, so celebrated in all these parts, and even in theworld, come up to her for beauty, grace, and gaiety.'"'Hold hard!' said I at this, 'tell your story as you ought, Senor DonMontesinos, for you know very well that all comparisons are odious, andthere is no occasion to compare one person with another; the peerlessDulcinea del Toboso is what she is, and the lady Dona Belerma is what sheis and has been, and that's enough.' To which he made answer, 'Forgiveme, Senor Don Quixote; I own I was wrong and spoke unadvisedly in sayingthat the lady Dulcinea could scarcely come up to the lady Belerma; for itwere enough for me to have learned, by what means I know not, that youare her knight, to make me bite my tongue out before I compared her toanything save heaven itself.' After this apology which the greatMontesinos made me, my heart recovered itself from the shock I hadreceived in hearing my lady compared with Belerma.""Still I wonder," said Sancho, "that your worship did not get upon theold fellow and bruise every bone of him with kicks, and pluck his bearduntil you didn't leave a hair in it.""Nay, Sancho, my friend," said Don Quixote, "it would not have been rightin me to do that, for we are all bound to pay respect to the aged, eventhough they be not knights, but especially to those who are, and who areenchanted; I only know I gave him as good as he brought in the many otherquestions and answers we exchanged.""I cannot understand, Senor Don Quixote," remarked the cousin here, "howit is that your worship, in such a short space of time as you have beenbelow there, could have seen so many things, and said and answered somuch.""How long is it since I went down?" asked Don Quixote."Little better than an hour," replied Sancho."That cannot be," returned Don Quixote, "because night overtook me whileI was there, and day came, and it was night again and day again threetimes; so that, by my reckoning, I have been three days in those remoteregions beyond our ken.""My master must be right," replied Sancho; "for as everything that hashappened to him is by enchantment, maybe what seems to us an hour wouldseem three days and nights there.""That's it," said Don Quixote."And did your worship eat anything all that time, senor?" asked thecousin."I never touched a morsel," answered Don Quixote, "nor did I feel hunger,or think of it.""And do the enchanted eat?" said the cousin."They neither eat," said Don Quixote; "nor are they subject to thegreater excrements, though it is thought that their nails, beards, andhair grow.""And do the enchanted sleep, now, senor?" asked Sancho."Certainly not," replied Don Quixote; "at least, during those three daysI was with them not one of them closed an eye, nor did I either.""The proverb, 'Tell me what company thou keepest and I'll tell thee whatthou art,' is to the point here," said Sancho; "your worship keepscompany with enchanted people that are always fasting and watching; whatwonder is it, then, that you neither eat nor sleep while you are withthem? But forgive me, senor, if I say that of all this you have told usnow, may God take me--I was just going to say the devil--if I believe asingle particle.""What!" said the cousin, "has Senor Don Quixote, then, been lying? Why,even if he wished it he has not had time to imagine and put together sucha host of lies.""I don't believe my master lies," said Sancho."If not, what dost thou believe?" asked Don Quixote."I believe," replied Sancho, "that this Merlin, or those enchanters whoenchanted the whole crew your worship says you saw and discoursed withdown there, stuffed your imagination or your mind with all this rigmaroleyou have been treating us to, and all that is still to come.""All that might be, Sancho," replied Don Quixote; "but it is not so, foreverything that I have told you I saw with my own eyes, and touched withmy own hands. But what will you say when I tell you now how, among thecountless other marvellous things Montesinos showed me (of which atleisure and at the proper time I will give thee an account in the courseof our journey, for they would not be all in place here), he showed methree country girls who went skipping and capering like goats over thepleasant fields there, and the instant I beheld them I knew one to be thepeerless Dulcinea del Toboso, and the other two those same country girlsthat were with her and that we spoke to on the road from El Toboso! Iasked Montesinos if he knew them, and he told me he did not, but hethought they must be some enchanted ladies of distinction, for it wasonly a few days before that they had made their appearance in thosemeadows; but I was not to be surprised at that, because there were agreat many other ladies there of times past and present, enchanted invarious strange shapes, and among them he had recognised Queen Guinevereand her dame Quintanona, she who poured out the wine for Lancelot when hecame from Britain."When Sancho Panza heard his master say this he was ready to take leave ofhis senses, or die with laughter; for, as he knew the real truth aboutthe pretended enchantment of Dulcinea, in which he himself had been theenchanter and concocter of all the evidence, he made up his mind at lastthat, beyond all doubt, his master was out of his wits and stark mad, sohe said to him, "It was an evil hour, a worse season, and a sorrowfulday, when your worship, dear master mine, went down to the other world,and an unlucky moment when you met with Senor Montesinos, who has sentyou back to us like this. You were well enough here above in your fullsenses, such as God had given you, delivering maxims and giving advice atevery turn, and not as you are now, talking the greatest nonsense thatcan be imagined.""As I know thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "I heed not thy words.""Nor I your worship's," said Sancho, "whether you beat me or kill me forthose I have spoken, and will speak if you don't correct and mend yourown. But tell me, while we are still at peace, how or by what did yourecognise the lady our mistress; and if you spoke to her, what did yousay, and what did she answer?""I recognised her," said Don Quixote, "by her wearing the same garmentsshe wore when thou didst point her out to me. I spoke to her, but she didnot utter a word in reply; on the contrary, she turned her back on me andtook to flight, at such a pace that crossbow bolt could not haveovertaken her. I wished to follow her, and would have done so had notMontesinos recommended me not to take the trouble as it would be useless,particularly as the time was drawing near when it would be necessary forme to quit the cavern. He told me, moreover, that in course of time hewould let me know how he and Belerma, and Durandarte, and all who werethere, were to be disenchanted. But of all I saw and observed down there,what gave me most pain was, that while Montesinos was speaking to me, oneof the two companions of the hapless Dulcinea approached me on onewithout my having seen her coming, and with tears in her eyes said to me,in a low, agitated voice, 'My lady Dulcinea del Toboso kisses yourworship's hands, and entreats you to do her the favour of letting herknow how you are; and, being in great need, she also entreats yourworship as earnestly as she can to be so good as to lend her half a dozenreals, or as much as you may have about you, on this new dimity petticoatthat I have here; and she promises to repay them very speedily.' I wasamazed and taken aback by such a message, and turning to Senor MontesinosI asked him, 'Is it possible, Senor Montesinos, that persons ofdistinction under enchantment can be in need?' To which he replied,'Believe me, Senor Don Quixote, that which is called need is to be metwith everywhere, and penetrates all quarters and reaches everyone, anddoes not spare even the enchanted; and as the lady Dulcinea del Tobososends to beg those six reals, and the pledge is to all appearance a goodone, there is nothing for it but to give them to her, for no doubt shemust be in some great strait.' 'I will take no pledge of her,' I replied,'nor yet can I give her what she asks, for all I have is four reals;which I gave (they were those which thou, Sancho, gavest me the other dayto bestow in alms upon the poor I met along the road), and I said, 'Tellyour mistress, my dear, that I am grieved to the heart because of herdistresses, and wish I was a Fucar to remedy them, and that I would haveher know that I cannot be, and ought not be, in health while deprived ofthe happiness of seeing her and enjoying her discreet conversation, andthat I implore her as earnestly as I can, to allow herself to be seen andaddressed by this her captive servant and forlorn knight. Tell her, too,that when she least expects it she will hear it announced that I havemade an oath and vow after the fashion of that which the Marquis ofMantua made to avenge his nephew Baldwin, when he found him at the pointof death in the heart of the mountains, which was, not to eat bread off atablecloth, and other trifling matters which he added, until he hadavenged him; and I will make the same to take no rest, and to roam theseven regions of the earth more thoroughly than the Infante Don Pedro ofPortugal ever roamed them, until I have disenchanted her.' 'All that andmore, you owe my lady,' the damsel's answer to me, and taking the fourreals, instead of making me a curtsey she cut a caper, springing two fullyards into the air.""O blessed God!" exclaimed Sancho aloud at this, "is it possible thatsuch things can be in the world, and that enchanters and enchantments canhave such power in it as to have changed my master's right senses into acraze so full of absurdity! O senor, senor, for God's sake, consideryourself, have a care for your honour, and give no credit to this sillystuff that has left you scant and short of wits.""Thou talkest in this way because thou lovest me, Sancho," said DonQuixote; "and not being experienced in the things of the world,everything that has some difficulty about it seems to thee impossible;but time will pass, as I said before, and I will tell thee some of thethings I saw down there which will make thee believe what I have relatednow, the truth of which admits of neither reply nor question."