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Don Quixote - Chapter 38

1. The Author's Preface

2. Dedication of Volume I

3. Chapter 1

4. Chapter 2

5. Chapter 3

6. Chapter 4

7. Chapter 5

8. Chapter 6

9. Chapter 7

10. Chapter 8

11. Chapter 9

12. Chapter 10

13. Chapter 11

14. Chapter 12

15. Chapter 13

16. Chapter 14

17. Chapter 15

18. Chapter 16

19. Chapter 17

20. Chapter 18

21. Chapter 19

22. Chapter 20

23. Chapter 21

24. Chapter 22

25. Chapter 23

26. Chapter 24

27. Chapter 25

28. Chapter 26

29. Chapter 27

30. Chapter 28

31. Chapter 29

32. Chapter 30

33. Chapter 31

34. Chapter 32

35. Chapter 33

36. Chapter 34

37. Chapter 35

38. Chapter 36

39. Chapter 37

40. Chapter 38

41. Chapter 39

42. Chapter 40

43. Chapter 41

44. Chapter 42

45. Chapter 43

46. Chapter 44

47. Chapter 45

48. Chapter 46

49. Chapter 47

50. Chapter 48

51. Chapter 49

52. Chapter 50

53. Chapter 51

54. Chapter 52

55. Dedication of Volume II

56. The Author's Preface

57. Chapter 1

58. Chapter 2

59. Chapter 3

60. Chapter 4

61. Chapter 5

62. Chapter 6

63. Chapter 7

64. Chapter 8

65. Chapter 9

66. Chapter 10

67. Chapter 11

68. Chapter 12

69. Chapter 13

70. Chapter 14

71. Chapter 15

72. Chapter 16

73. Chapter 17

74. Chapter 18

75. Chapter 19

76. Chapter 20

77. Chapter 21

78. Chapter 22

79. Chapter 23

80. Chapter 24

81. Chapter 25

82. Chapter 26

83. Chapter 27

84. Chapter 28

85. Chapter 29

86. Chapter 30

87. Chapter 31

88. Chapter 32

89. Chapter 33

90. Chapter 34

91. Chapter 35

92. Chapter 36

93. Chapter 37

94. Chapter 38

95. Chapter 39

96. Chapter 40

97. Chapter 41

98. Chapter 42

99. Chapter 43

100. Chapter 44

101. Chapter 45

102. Chapter 46

103. Chapter 47

104. Chapter 48

105. Chapter 49

106. Chapter 50

107. Chapter 51

108. Chapter 52

109. Chapter 53

110. Chapter 54

111. Chapter 55

112. Chapter 56

113. Chapter 57

114. Chapter 58

115. Chapter 59

116. Chapter 60

117. Chapter 61

118. Chapter 62

119. Chapter 63

120. Chapter 64

121. Chapter 65

122. Chapter 66

123. Chapter 67

124. Chapter 68

125. Chapter 69

126. Chapter 70

127. Chapter 71

128. Chapter 72

129. Chapter 73

130. Chapter 74







CHAPTER XXXVIII.

WHEREIN IS TOLD THE DISTRESSED DUENNA'S TALE OF HER MISFORTUNES


Following the melancholy musicians there filed into the garden as many as
twelve duennas, in two lines, all dressed in ample mourning robes
apparently of milled serge, with hoods of fine white gauze so long that
they allowed only the border of the robe to be seen. Behind them came the
Countess Trifaldi, the squire Trifaldin of the White Beard leading her by
the hand, clad in the finest unnapped black baize, such that, had it a
nap, every tuft would have shown as big as a Martos chickpea; the tail,
or skirt, or whatever it might be called, ended in three points which
were borne up by the hands of three pages, likewise dressed in mourning,
forming an elegant geometrical figure with the three acute angles made by
the three points, from which all who saw the peaked skirt concluded that
it must be because of it the countess was called Trifaldi, as though it
were Countess of the Three Skirts; and Benengeli says it was so, and that
by her right name she was called the Countess Lobuna, because wolves bred
in great numbers in her country; and if, instead of wolves, they had been
foxes, she would have been called the Countess Zorruna, as it was the
custom in those parts for lords to take distinctive titles from the thing
or things most abundant in their dominions; this countess, however, in
honour of the new fashion of her skirt, dropped Lobuna and took up
Trifaldi.

The twelve duennas and the lady came on at procession pace, their faces
being covered with black veils, not transparent ones like Trifaldin's,
but so close that they allowed nothing to be seen through them. As soon
as the band of duennas was fully in sight, the duke, the duchess, and Don
Quixote stood up, as well as all who were watching the slow-moving
procession. The twelve duennas halted and formed a lane, along which the
Distressed One advanced, Trifaldin still holding her hand. On seeing this
the duke, the duchess, and Don Quixote went some twelve paces forward to
meet her. She then, kneeling on the ground, said in a voice hoarse and
rough, rather than fine and delicate, "May it please your highnesses not
to offer such courtesies to this your servant, I should say to this your
handmaid, for I am in such distress that I shall never be able to make a
proper return, because my strange and unparalleled misfortune has carried
off my wits, and I know not whither; but it must be a long way off, for
the more I look for them the less I find them."

"He would be wanting in wits, senora countess," said the duke, "who did
not perceive your worth by your person, for at a glance it may be seen it
deserves all the cream of courtesy and flower of polite usage;" and
raising her up by the hand he led her to a seat beside the duchess, who
likewise received her with great urbanity. Don Quixote remained silent,
while Sancho was dying to see the features of Trifaldi and one or two of
her many duennas; but there was no possibility of it until they
themselves displayed them of their own accord and free will.

All kept still, waiting to see who would break silence, which the
Distressed Duenna did in these words: "I am confident, most mighty lord,
most fair lady, and most discreet company, that my most miserable misery
will be accorded a reception no less dispassionate than generous and
condolent in your most valiant bosoms, for it is one that is enough to
melt marble, soften diamonds, and mollify the steel of the most hardened
hearts in the world; but ere it is proclaimed to your hearing, not to say
your ears, I would fain be enlightened whether there be present in this
society, circle, or company, that knight immaculatissimus, Don Quixote de
la Manchissima, and his squirissimus Panza."

"The Panza is here," said Sancho, before anyone could reply, "and Don
Quixotissimus too; and so, most distressedest Duenissima, you may say
what you willissimus, for we are all readissimus to do you any
servissimus."

On this Don Quixote rose, and addressing the Distressed Duenna, said, "If
your sorrows, afflicted lady, can indulge in any hope of relief from the
valour or might of any knight-errant, here are mine, which, feeble and
limited though they be, shall be entirely devoted to your service. I am
Don Quixote of La Mancha, whose calling it is to give aid to the needy of
all sorts; and that being so, it is not necessary for you, senora, to
make any appeal to benevolence, or deal in preambles, only to tell your
woes plainly and straightforwardly: for you have hearers that will know
how, if not to remedy them, to sympathise with them."

On hearing this, the Distressed Duenna made as though she would throw
herself at Don Quixote's feet, and actually did fall before them and
said, as she strove to embrace them, "Before these feet and legs I cast
myself, O unconquered knight, as before, what they are, the foundations
and pillars of knight-errantry; these feet I desire to kiss, for upon
their steps hangs and depends the sole remedy for my misfortune, O
valorous errant, whose veritable achievements leave behind and eclipse
the fabulous ones of the Amadises, Esplandians, and Belianises!" Then
turning from Don Quixote to Sancho Panza, and grasping his hands, she
said, "O thou, most loyal squire that ever served knight-errant in this
present age or ages past, whose goodness is more extensive than the beard
of Trifaldin my companion here of present, well mayest thou boast thyself
that, in serving the great Don Quixote, thou art serving, summed up in
one, the whole host of knights that have ever borne arms in the world. I
conjure thee, by what thou owest to thy most loyal goodness, that thou
wilt become my kind intercessor with thy master, that he speedily give
aid to this most humble and most unfortunate countess."

To this Sancho made answer, "As to my goodness, senora, being as long and
as great as your squire's beard, it matters very little to me; may I have
my soul well bearded and moustached when it comes to quit this life,
that's the point; about beards here below I care little or nothing; but
without all these blandishments and prayers, I will beg my master (for I
know he loves me, and, besides, he has need of me just now for a certain
business) to help and aid your worship as far as he can; unpack your woes
and lay them before us, and leave us to deal with them, for we'll be all
of one mind."

The duke and duchess, as it was they who had made the experiment of this
adventure, were ready to burst with laughter at all this, and between
themselves they commended the clever acting of the Trifaldi, who,
returning to her seat, said, "Queen Dona Maguncia reigned over the famous
kingdom of Kandy, which lies between the great Trapobana and the Southern
Sea, two leagues beyond Cape Comorin. She was the widow of King
Archipiela, her lord and husband, and of their marriage they had issue
the Princess Antonomasia, heiress of the kingdom; which Princess
Antonomasia was reared and brought up under my care and direction, I
being the oldest and highest in rank of her mother's duennas. Time
passed, and the young Antonomasia reached the age of fourteen, and such a
perfection of beauty, that nature could not raise it higher. Then, it
must not be supposed her intelligence was childish; she was as
intelligent as she was fair, and she was fairer than all the world; and
is so still, unless the envious fates and hard-hearted sisters three have
cut for her the thread of life. But that they have not, for Heaven will
not suffer so great a wrong to Earth, as it would be to pluck unripe the
grapes of the fairest vineyard on its surface. Of this beauty, to which
my poor feeble tongue has failed to do justice, countless princes, not
only of that country, but of others, were enamoured, and among them a
private gentleman, who was at the court, dared to raise his thoughts to
the heaven of so great beauty, trusting to his youth, his gallant
bearing, his numerous accomplishments and graces, and his quickness and
readiness of wit; for I may tell your highnesses, if I am not wearying
you, that he played the guitar so as to make it speak, and he was,
besides, a poet and a great dancer, and he could make birdcages so well,
that by making them alone he might have gained a livelihood, had he found
himself reduced to utter poverty; and gifts and graces of this kind are
enough to bring down a mountain, not to say a tender young girl. But all
his gallantry, wit, and gaiety, all his graces and accomplishments, would
have been of little or no avail towards gaining the fortress of my pupil,
had not the impudent thief taken the precaution of gaining me over first.
First, the villain and heartless vagabond sought to win my good-will and
purchase my compliance, so as to get me, like a treacherous warder, to
deliver up to him the keys of the fortress I had in charge. In a word, he
gained an influence over my mind, and overcame my resolutions with I know
not what trinkets and jewels he gave me; but it was some verses I heard
him singing one night from a grating that opened on the street where he
lived, that, more than anything else, made me give way and led to my
fall; and if I remember rightly they ran thus:

From that sweet enemy of mine
My bleeding heart hath had its wound;
And to increase the pain I'm bound
To suffer and to make no sign.

The lines seemed pearls to me and his voice sweet as syrup; and
afterwards, I may say ever since then, looking at the misfortune into
which I have fallen, I have thought that poets, as Plato advised, ought
to be banished from all well-ordered States; at least the amatory ones,
for they write verses, not like those of 'The Marquis of Mantua,' that
delight and draw tears from the women and children, but sharp-pointed
conceits that pierce the heart like soft thorns, and like the lightning
strike it, leaving the raiment uninjured. Another time he sang:

Come Death, so subtly veiled that I
Thy coming know not, how or when,
Lest it should give me life again
To find how sweet it is to die.

--and other verses and burdens of the same sort, such as enchant when
sung and fascinate when written. And then, when they condescend to
compose a sort of verse that was at that time in vogue in Kandy, which
they call seguidillas! Then it is that hearts leap and laughter breaks
forth, and the body grows restless and all the senses turn quicksilver.
And so I say, sirs, that these troubadours richly deserve to be banished
to the isles of the lizards. Though it is not they that are in fault, but
the simpletons that extol them, and the fools that believe in them; and
had I been the faithful duenna I should have been, his stale conceits
would have never moved me, nor should I have been taken in by such
phrases as 'in death I live,' 'in ice I burn,' 'in flames I shiver,'
'hopeless I hope,' 'I go and stay,' and paradoxes of that sort which
their writings are full of. And then when they promise the Phoenix of
Arabia, the crown of Ariadne, the horses of the Sun, the pearls of the
South, the gold of Tibar, and the balsam of Panchaia! Then it is they
give a loose to their pens, for it costs them little to make promises
they have no intention or power of fulfilling. But where am I wandering
to? Woe is me, unfortunate being! What madness or folly leads me to speak
of the faults of others, when there is so much to be said about my own?
Again, woe is me, hapless that I am! it was not verses that conquered me,
but my own simplicity; it was not music made me yield, but my own
imprudence; my own great ignorance and little caution opened the way and
cleared the path for Don Clavijo's advances, for that was the name of the
gentleman I have referred to; and so, with my help as go-between, he
found his way many a time into the chamber of the deceived Antonomasia
(deceived not by him but by me) under the title of a lawful husband; for,
sinner though I was, would not have allowed him to approach the edge of
her shoe-sole without being her husband. No, no, not that; marriage must
come first in any business of this sort that I take in hand. But there
was one hitch in this case, which was that of inequality of rank, Don
Clavijo being a private gentleman, and the Princess Antonomasia, as I
said, heiress to the kingdom. The entanglement remained for some time a
secret, kept hidden by my cunning precautions, until I perceived that a
certain expansion of waist in Antonomasia must before long disclose it,
the dread of which made us all there take counsel together, and it was
agreed that before the mischief came to light, Don Clavijo should demand
Antonomasia as his wife before the Vicar, in virtue of an agreement to
marry him made by the princess, and drafted by my wit in such binding
terms that the might of Samson could not have broken it. The necessary
steps were taken; the Vicar saw the agreement, and took the lady's
confession; she confessed everything in full, and he ordered her into the
custody of a very worthy alguacil of the court."

"Are there alguacils of the court in Kandy, too," said Sancho at this,
"and poets, and seguidillas? I swear I think the world is the same all
over! But make haste, Senora Trifaldi; for it is late, and I am dying to
know the end of this long story."

"I will," replied the countess.




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