PART II - CHAPTER XXXVI.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　WHEREIN IS RELATED THE STRANGE AND UNDREAMT-OF ADVENTURE OF THEDISTRESSED DUENNA, ALIAS THE COUNTESS TRIFALDI, TOGETHER WITH A LETTERWHICH SANCHO PANZA WROTE TO HIS WIFE, TERESA PANZAThe duke had a majordomo of a very facetious and sportive turn, and he itwas that played the part of Merlin, made all the arrangements for thelate adventure, composed the verses, and got a page to representDulcinea; and now, with the assistance of his master and mistress, he gotup another of the drollest and strangest contrivances that can beimagined.The duchess asked Sancho the next day if he had made a beginning with hispenance task which he had to perform for the disenchantment of Dulcinea.He said he had, and had given himself five lashes overnight.The duchess asked him what he had given them with.He said with his hand."That," said the duchess, "is more like giving oneself slaps than lashes;I am sure the sage Merlin will not be satisfied with such tenderness;worthy Sancho must make a scourge with claws, or a cat-o'-nine tails,that will make itself felt; for it's with blood that letters enter, andthe release of so great a lady as Dulcinea will not be granted socheaply, or at such a paltry price; and remember, Sancho, that works ofcharity done in a lukewarm and half-hearted way are without merit and ofno avail."To which Sancho replied, "If your ladyship will give me a proper scourgeor cord, I'll lay on with it, provided it does not hurt too much; for youmust know, boor as I am, my flesh is more cotton than hemp, and it won'tdo for me to destroy myself for the good of anybody else.""So be it by all means," said the duchess; "tomorrow I'll give you ascourge that will be just the thing for you, and will accommodate itselfto the tenderness of your flesh, as if it was its own sister."Then said Sancho, "Your highness must know, dear lady of my soul, that Ihave a letter written to my wife, Teresa Panza, giving her an account ofall that has happened me since I left her; I have it here in my bosom,and there's nothing wanting but to put the address to it; I'd be glad ifyour discretion would read it, for I think it runs in the governor style;I mean the way governors ought to write.""And who dictated it?" asked the duchess."Who should have dictated but myself, sinner as I am?" said Sancho."And did you write it yourself?" said the duchess."That I didn't," said Sancho; "for I can neither read nor write, though Ican sign my name.""Let us see it," said the duchess, "for never fear but you display in itthe quality and quantity of your wit."Sancho drew out an open letter from his bosom, and the duchess, takingit, found it ran in this fashion:SANCHO PANZA'S LETTER TO HIS WIFE, TERESA PANZAIf I was well whipped I went mounted like a gentleman; if I have got agood government it is at the cost of a good whipping. Thou wilt notunderstand this just now, my Teresa; by-and-by thou wilt know what itmeans. I may tell thee, Teresa, I mean thee to go in a coach, for that isa matter of importance, because every other way of going is going onall-fours. Thou art a governor's wife; take care that nobody speaks evilof thee behind thy back. I send thee here a green hunting suit that mylady the duchess gave me; alter it so as to make a petticoat and bodicefor our daughter. Don Quixote, my master, if I am to believe what I hearin these parts, is a madman of some sense, and a droll blockhead, and Iam no way behind him. We have been in the cave of Montesinos, and thesage Merlin has laid hold of me for the disenchantment of Dulcinea delToboso, her that is called Aldonza Lorenzo over there. With threethousand three hundred lashes, less five, that I'm to give myself, shewill be left as entirely disenchanted as the mother that bore her. Saynothing of this to anyone; for, make thy affairs public, and some willsay they are white and others will say they are black. I shall leave thisin a few days for my government, to which I am going with a mighty greatdesire to make money, for they tell me all new governors set out with thesame desire; I will feel the pulse of it and will let thee know if thouart to come and live with me or not. Dapple is well and sends manyremembrances to thee; I am not going to leave him behind though they tookme away to be Grand Turk. My lady the duchess kisses thy hands a thousandtimes; do thou make a return with two thousand, for as my master says,nothing costs less or is cheaper than civility. God has not been pleasedto provide another valise for me with another hundred crowns, like theone the other day; but never mind, my Teresa, the bell-ringer is in safequarters, and all will come out in the scouring of the government; onlyit troubles me greatly what they tell me--that once I have tasted it Iwill eat my hands off after it; and if that is so it will not come verycheap to me; though to be sure the maimed have a benefice of their own inthe alms they beg for; so that one way or another thou wilt be rich andin luck. God give it to thee as he can, and keep me to serve thee. Fromthis castle, the 20th of July, 1614.Thy husband, the governor.SANCHO PANZAWhen she had done reading the letter the duchess said to Sancho, "On twopoints the worthy governor goes rather astray; one is in saying orhinting that this government has been bestowed upon him for the lashesthat he is to give himself, when he knows (and he cannot deny it) thatwhen my lord the duke promised it to him nobody ever dreamt of such athing as lashes; the other is that he shows himself here to be verycovetous; and I would not have him a money-seeker, for 'covetousnessbursts the bag,' and the covetous governor does ungoverned justice.""I don't mean it that way, senora," said Sancho; "and if you think theletter doesn't run as it ought to do, it's only to tear it up and makeanother; and maybe it will be a worse one if it is left to my gumption.""No, no," said the duchess, "this one will do, and I wish the duke to seeit."With this they betook themselves to a garden where they were to dine, andthe duchess showed Sancho's letter to the duke, who was highly delightedwith it. They dined, and after the cloth had been removed and they hadamused themselves for a while with Sancho's rich conversation, themelancholy sound of a fife and harsh discordant drum made itself heard.All seemed somewhat put out by this dull, confused, martial harmony,especially Don Quixote, who could not keep his seat from puredisquietude; as to Sancho, it is needless to say that fear drove him tohis usual refuge, the side or the skirts of the duchess; and indeed andin truth the sound they heard was a most doleful and melancholy one.While they were still in uncertainty they saw advancing towards themthrough the garden two men clad in mourning robes so long and flowingthat they trailed upon the ground. As they marched they beat two greatdrums which were likewise draped in black, and beside them came the fifeplayer, black and sombre like the others. Following these came apersonage of gigantic stature enveloped rather than clad in a gown of thedeepest black, the skirt of which was of prodigious dimensions. Over thegown, girdling or crossing his figure, he had a broad baldric which wasalso black, and from which hung a huge scimitar with a black scabbard andfurniture. He had his face covered with a transparent black veil, throughwhich might be descried a very long beard as white as snow. He came onkeeping step to the sound of the drums with great gravity and dignity;and, in short, his stature, his gait, the sombreness of his appearanceand his following might well have struck with astonishment, as they did,all who beheld him without knowing who he was. With this measured paceand in this guise he advanced to kneel before the duke, who, with theothers, awaited him standing. The duke, however, would not on any accountallow him to speak until he had risen. The prodigious scarecrow obeyed,and standing up, removed the veil from his face and disclosed the mostenormous, the longest, the whitest and the thickest beard that human eyeshad ever beheld until that moment, and then fetching up a grave, sonorousvoice from the depths of his broad, capacious chest, and fixing his eyeson the duke, he said:"Most high and mighty senor, my name is Trifaldin of the White Beard; Iam squire to the Countess Trifaldi, otherwise called the DistressedDuenna, on whose behalf I bear a message to your highness, which is thatyour magnificence will be pleased to grant her leave and permission tocome and tell you her trouble, which is one of the strangest and mostwonderful that the mind most familiar with trouble in the world couldhave imagined; but first she desires to know if the valiant and nevervanquished knight, Don Quixote of La Mancha, is in this your castle, forshe has come in quest of him on foot and without breaking her fast fromthe kingdom of Kandy to your realms here; a thing which may and ought tobe regarded as a miracle or set down to enchantment; she is even now atthe gate of this fortress or plaisance, and only waits for yourpermission to enter. I have spoken." And with that he coughed, andstroked down his beard with both his hands, and stood very tranquillywaiting for the response of the duke, which was to this effect: "Manydays ago, worthy squire Trifaldin of the White Beard, we heard of themisfortune of my lady the Countess Trifaldi, whom the enchanters havecaused to be called the Distressed Duenna. Bid her enter, O stupendoussquire, and tell her that the valiant knight Don Quixote of La Mancha ishere, and from his generous disposition she may safely promise herselfevery protection and assistance; and you may tell her, too, that if myaid be necessary it will not be withheld, for I am bound to give it toher by my quality of knight, which involves the protection of women ofall sorts, especially widowed, wronged, and distressed dames, such as herladyship seems to be."On hearing this Trifaldin bent the knee to the ground, and making a signto the fifer and drummers to strike up, he turned and marched out of thegarden to the same notes and at the same pace as when he entered, leavingthem all amazed at his bearing and solemnity. Turning to Don Quixote, theduke said, "After all, renowned knight, the mists of malice and ignoranceare unable to hide or obscure the light of valour and virtue. I say so,because your excellence has been barely six days in this castle, andalready the unhappy and the afflicted come in quest of you from lands fardistant and remote, and not in coaches or on dromedaries, but on foot andfasting, confident that in that mighty arm they will find a cure fortheir sorrows and troubles; thanks to your great achievements, which arecirculated all over the known earth.""I wish, senor duke," replied Don Quixote, "that blessed ecclesiastic,who at table the other day showed such ill-will and bitter spite againstknights-errant, were here now to see with his own eyes whether knights ofthe sort are needed in the world; he would at any rate learn byexperience that those suffering any extraordinary affliction or sorrow,in extreme cases and unusual misfortunes do not go to look for a remedyto the houses of jurists or village sacristans, or to the knight who hasnever attempted to pass the bounds of his own town, or to the indolentcourtier who only seeks for news to repeat and talk of, instead ofstriving to do deeds and exploits for others to relate and record. Reliefin distress, help in need, protection for damsels, consolation forwidows, are to be found in no sort of persons better than inknights-errant; and I give unceasing thanks to heaven that I am one, andregard any misfortune or suffering that may befall me in the pursuit ofso honourable a calling as endured to good purpose. Let this duenna comeand ask what she will, for I will effect her relief by the might of myarm and the dauntless resolution of my bold heart."