PART II - CHAPTER XXXIV.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　WHICH RELATES HOW THEY LEARNED THE WAY IN WHICH THEY WERE TO DISENCHANTTHE PEERLESS DULCINEA DEL TOBOSO, WHICH IS ONE OF THE RAREST ADVENTURESIN THIS BOOKGreat was the pleasure the duke and duchess took in the conversation ofDon Quixote and Sancho Panza; and, more bent than ever upon the plan theyhad of practising some jokes upon them that should have the look andappearance of adventures, they took as their basis of action what DonQuixote had already told them about the cave of Montesinos, in order toplay him a famous one. But what the duchess marvelled at above all wasthat Sancho's simplicity could be so great as to make him believe asabsolute truth that Dulcinea had been enchanted, when it was he himselfwho had been the enchanter and trickster in the business. Having,therefore, instructed their servants in everything they were to do, sixdays afterwards they took him out to hunt, with as great a retinue ofhuntsmen and beaters as a crowned king.They presented Don Quixote with a hunting suit, and Sancho with anotherof the finest green cloth; but Don Quixote declined to put his on, sayingthat he must soon return to the hard pursuit of arms, and could not carrywardrobes or stores with him. Sancho, however, took what they gave him,meaning to sell it the first opportunity.The appointed day having arrived, Don Quixote armed himself, and Sanchoarrayed himself, and mounted on his Dapple (for he would not give him upthough they offered him a horse), he placed himself in the midst of thetroop of huntsmen. The duchess came out splendidly attired, and DonQuixote, in pure courtesy and politeness, held the rein of her palfrey,though the duke wanted not to allow him; and at last they reached a woodthat lay between two high mountains, where, after occupying variousposts, ambushes, and paths, and distributing the party in differentpositions, the hunt began with great noise, shouting, and hallooing, sothat, between the baying of the hounds and the blowing of the horns, theycould not hear one another. The duchess dismounted, and with a sharpboar-spear in her hand posted herself where she knew the wild boars werein the habit of passing. The duke and Don Quixote likewise dismounted andplaced themselves one at each side of her. Sancho took up a position inthe rear of all without dismounting from Dapple, whom he dared not desertlest some mischief should befall him. Scarcely had they taken their standin a line with several of their servants, when they saw a huge boar,closely pressed by the hounds and followed by the huntsmen, makingtowards them, grinding his teeth and tusks, and scattering foam from hismouth. As soon as he saw him Don Quixote, bracing his shield on his arm,and drawing his sword, advanced to meet him; the duke with boar-spear didthe same; but the duchess would have gone in front of them all had notthe duke prevented her. Sancho alone, deserting Dapple at the sight ofthe mighty beast, took to his heels as hard as he could and strove invain to mount a tall oak. As he was clinging to a branch, however,half-way up in his struggle to reach the top, the bough, such was hisill-luck and hard fate, gave way, and caught in his fall by a broken limbof the oak, he hung suspended in the air unable to reach the ground.Finding himself in this position, and that the green coat was beginningto tear, and reflecting that if the fierce animal came that way he mightbe able to get at him, he began to utter such cries, and call for help soearnestly, that all who heard him and did not see him felt sure he mustbe in the teeth of some wild beast. In the end the tusked boar fellpierced by the blades of the many spears they held in front of him; andDon Quixote, turning round at the cries of Sancho, for he knew by themthat it was he, saw him hanging from the oak head downwards, with Dapple,who did not forsake him in his distress, close beside him; and CideHamete observes that he seldom saw Sancho Panza without seeing Dapple, orDapple without seeing Sancho Panza; such was their attachment and loyaltyone to the other. Don Quixote went over and unhooked Sancho, who, as soonas he found himself on the ground, looked at the rent in his huntingcoatand was grieved to the heart, for he thought he had got a patrimonialestate in that suit.Meanwhile they had slung the mighty boar across the back of a mule, andhaving covered it with sprigs of rosemary and branches of myrtle, theybore it away as the spoils of victory to some large field-tents which hadbeen pitched in the middle of the wood, where they found the tables laidand dinner served, in such grand and sumptuous style that it was easy tosee the rank and magnificence of those who had provided it. Sancho, as heshowed the rents in his torn suit to the duchess, observed, "If we hadbeen hunting hares, or after small birds, my coat would have been safefrom being in the plight it's in; I don't know what pleasure one can findin lying in wait for an animal that may take your life with his tusk ifhe gets at you. I recollect having heard an old ballad sung that says,By bears be thou devoured, as erst

　　Was famous Favila.""That," said Don Quixote, "was a Gothic king, who, going a-hunting, wasdevoured by a bear.""Just so," said Sancho; "and I would not have kings and princes exposethemselves to such dangers for the sake of a pleasure which, to my mind,ought not to be one, as it consists in killing an animal that has done noharm whatever.""Quite the contrary, Sancho; you are wrong there," said the duke; "forhunting is more suitable and requisite for kings and princes than foranybody else. The chase is the emblem of war; it has stratagems, wiles,and crafty devices for overcoming the enemy in safety; in it extreme coldand intolerable heat have to be borne, indolence and sleep are despised,the bodily powers are invigorated, the limbs of him who engages in it aremade supple, and, in a word, it is a pursuit which may be followedwithout injury to anyone and with enjoyment to many; and the best of itis, it is not for everybody, as field-sports of other sorts are, excepthawking, which also is only for kings and great lords. Reconsider youropinion therefore, Sancho, and when you are governor take to hunting, andyou will find the good of it.""Nay," said Sancho, "the good governor should have a broken leg and keepat home;" it would be a nice thing if, after people had been at thetrouble of coming to look for him on business, the governor were to beaway in the forest enjoying himself; the government would go on badly inthat fashion. By my faith, senor, hunting and amusements are more fit foridlers than for governors; what I intend to amuse myself with is playingall fours at Eastertime, and bowls on Sundays and holidays; for thesehuntings don't suit my condition or agree with my conscience.""God grant it may turn out so," said the duke; "because it's a long stepfrom saying to doing.""Be that as it may," said Sancho, "'pledges don't distress a good payer,'and 'he whom God helps does better than he who gets up early,' and 'it'sthe tripes that carry the feet and not the feet the tripes;' I mean tosay that if God gives me help and I do my duty honestly, no doubt I'llgovern better than a gerfalcon. Nay, let them only put a finger in mymouth, and they'll see whether I can bite or not.""The curse of God and all his saints upon thee, thou accursed Sancho!"exclaimed Don Quixote; "when will the day come--as I have often said tothee--when I shall hear thee make one single coherent, rational remarkwithout proverbs? Pray, your highnesses, leave this fool alone, for hewill grind your souls between, not to say two, but two thousand proverbs,dragged in as much in season, and as much to the purpose as--may Godgrant as much health to him, or to me if I want to listen to them!""Sancho Panza's proverbs," said the duchess, "though more in number thanthe Greek Commander's, are not therefore less to be esteemed for theconciseness of the maxims. For my own part, I can say they give me morepleasure than others that may be better brought in and more seasonablyintroduced."In pleasant conversation of this sort they passed out of the tent intothe wood, and the day was spent in visiting some of the posts andhiding-places, and then night closed in, not, however, as brilliantly ortranquilly as might have been expected at the season, for it was thenmidsummer; but bringing with it a kind of haze that greatly aided theproject of the duke and duchess; and thus, as night began to fall, and alittle after twilight set in, suddenly the whole wood on all four sidesseemed to be on fire, and shortly after, here, there, on all sides, avast number of trumpets and other military instruments were heard, as ifseveral troops of cavalry were passing through the wood. The blaze of thefire and the noise of the warlike instruments almost blinded the eyes anddeafened the ears of those that stood by, and indeed of all who were inthe wood. Then there were heard repeated lelilies after the fashion ofthe Moors when they rush to battle; trumpets and clarions brayed, drumsbeat, fifes played, so unceasingly and so fast that he could not have hadany senses who did not lose them with the confused din of so manyinstruments. The duke was astounded, the duchess amazed, Don Quixotewondering, Sancho Panza trembling, and indeed, even they who were awareof the cause were frightened. In their fear, silence fell upon them, anda postillion, in the guise of a demon, passed in front of them, blowing,in lieu of a bugle, a huge hollow horn that gave out a horrible hoarsenote."Ho there! brother courier," cried the duke, "who are you? Where are yougoing? What troops are these that seem to be passing through the wood?"To which the courier replied in a harsh, discordant voice, "I am thedevil; I am in search of Don Quixote of La Mancha; those who are comingthis way are six troops of enchanters, who are bringing on a triumphalcar the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso; she comes under enchantment,together with the gallant Frenchman Montesinos, to give instructions toDon Quixote as to how, she the said lady, may be disenchanted.""If you were the devil, as you say and as your appearance indicates,"said the duke, "you would have known the said knight Don Quixote of LaMancha, for you have him here before you.""By God and upon my conscience," said the devil, "I never observed it,for my mind is occupied with so many different things that I wasforgetting the main thing I came about.""This demon must be an honest fellow and a good Christian," said Sancho;"for if he wasn't he wouldn't swear by God and his conscience; I feelsure now there must be good souls even in hell itself."Without dismounting, the demon then turned to Don Quixote and said, "Theunfortunate but valiant knight Montesinos sends me to thee, the Knight ofthe Lions (would that I saw thee in their claws), bidding me tell thee towait for him wherever I may find thee, as he brings with him her whomthey call Dulcinea del Toboso, that he may show thee what is needful inorder to disenchant her; and as I came for no more I need stay no longer;demons of my sort be with thee, and good angels with these gentles;" andso saying he blew his huge horn, turned about and went off withoutwaiting for a reply from anyone.They all felt fresh wonder, but particularly Sancho and Don Quixote;Sancho to see how, in defiance of the truth, they would have it thatDulcinea was enchanted; Don Quixote because he could not feel surewhether what had happened to him in the cave of Montesinos was true ornot; and as he was deep in these cogitations the duke said to him, "Doyou mean to wait, Senor Don Quixote?""Why not?" replied he; "here will I wait, fearless and firm, though allhell should come to attack me.""Well then, if I see another devil or hear another horn like the last,I'll wait here as much as in Flanders," said Sancho.Night now closed in more completely, and many lights began to flitthrough the wood, just as those fiery exhalations from the earth, thatlook like shooting-stars to our eyes, flit through the heavens; afrightful noise, too, was heard, like that made by the solid wheels theox-carts usually have, by the harsh, ceaseless creaking of which, theysay, the bears and wolves are put to flight, if there happen to be anywhere they are passing. In addition to all this commotion, there came afurther disturbance to increase the tumult, for now it seemed as if intruth, on all four sides of the wood, four encounters or battles weregoing on at the same time; in one quarter resounded the dull noise of aterrible cannonade, in another numberless muskets were being discharged,the shouts of the combatants sounded almost close at hand, and fartheraway the Moorish lelilies were raised again and again. In a word, thebugles, the horns, the clarions, the trumpets, the drums, the cannon, themusketry, and above all the tremendous noise of the carts, all made uptogether a din so confused and terrific that Don Quixote had need tosummon up all his courage to brave it; but Sancho's gave way, and he fellfainting on the skirt of the duchess's robe, who let him lie there andpromptly bade them throw water in his face. This was done, and he came tohimself by the time that one of the carts with the creaking wheelsreached the spot. It was drawn by four plodding oxen all covered withblack housings; on each horn they had fixed a large lighted wax taper,and on the top of the cart was constructed a raised seat, on which sat avenerable old man with a beard whiter than the very snow, and so longthat it fell below his waist; he was dressed in a long robe of blackbuckram; for as the cart was thickly set with a multitude of candles itwas easy to make out everything that was on it. Leading it were twohideous demons, also clad in buckram, with countenances so frightful thatSancho, having once seen them, shut his eyes so as not to see them again.As soon as the cart came opposite the spot the old man rose from hislofty seat, and standing up said in a loud voice, "I am the sageLirgandeo," and without another word the cart then passed on. Behind itcame another of the same form, with another aged man enthroned, who,stopping the cart, said in a voice no less solemn than that of the first,"I am the sage Alquife, the great friend of Urganda the Unknown," andpassed on. Then another cart came by at the same pace, but the occupantof the throne was not old like the others, but a man stalwart and robust,and of a forbidding countenance, who as he came up said in a voice farhoarser and more devilish, "I am the enchanter Archelaus, the mortalenemy of Amadis of Gaul and all his kindred," and then passed on. Havinggone a short distance the three carts halted and the monotonous noise oftheir wheels ceased, and soon after they heard another, not noise, butsound of sweet, harmonious music, of which Sancho was very glad, takingit to be a good sign; and said he to the duchess, from whom he did notstir a step, or for a single instant, "Senora, where there's music therecan't be mischief.""Nor where there are lights and it is bright," said the duchess; to whichSancho replied, "Fire gives light, and it's bright where there arebonfires, as we see by those that are all round us and perhaps may burnus; but music is a sign of mirth and merrymaking.""That remains to be seen," said Don Quixote, who was listening to allthat passed; and he was right, as is shown in the following chapter.