Don Quixote [Trans. by Edith Grossman] (117 page)

Read Don Quixote [Trans. by Edith Grossman] Online

Authors: Miguel de Cervantes

Tags: #Fiction, #Classics, #Literary, #Knights and knighthood, #Spain, #Literary Criticism, #Spanish & Portuguese, #European, #Don Quixote (Fictitious character)

Having said this, and leaving Clavileño, with a gallant air they re-
turned the way they had come. As soon as she saw the horse, the Dolorous One, almost in tears, said to Don Quixote:

“Valiant knight, the promises of Malambruno have come true: the horse is here, our beards are growing, and all of us, with every hair of our beards, implore you to shave and clip us, for all you have to do is climb onto the horse with your squire and give a joyful beginning to your uncommon journey.”

“That I shall do, Señora Countess Trifaldi, very willingly and even more joyfully, not troubling to find a cushion or put on spurs in order not to delay, so great is the desire I have to see you, Señora, and all these duennas, smooth-faced and clean.”

“That I shall not do,” said Sancho, “by no means, not willingly or any other way; and if this shaving can’t be done unless I climb onto those hindquarters, then my master can find another squire to accompany him, and these ladies another way to smooth their faces; I’m not a wizard who likes flying through the air. And what will my insulanos say when they find out that their governor goes traveling on the wind? And one other thing: since it’s more than three thousand leagues from here to Candaya, if the horse gets tired or the giant gets angry, it’ll take us more than half a dozen years to get back, and by then there won’t be any ínsulas or ínsulos left in the world that recognize me; and since it’s a common saying that danger lies in delay, and when they give you a heifer you’d better hurry over with the rope, may the beards of these ladies forgive me, but St. Peter’s fine in Rome; I mean that I’m fine in this house, where I have received so many favors and where I expect a great benefit from its master, which is being a governor.”

To which the duke said:

“Sancho my friend, the ínsula I have promised you is neither movable nor transitory: it has roots growing so deep in the depths of the earth that three pulls will not tear it out or move it from where it is now; and you must know that I know that no position of any distinction is won without some sort of bribe, sometimes more, sometimes less, and the one I want for this governorship is for you to go with your master, Don Quixote, and bring this memorable adventure to an end and a conclusion; regardless of whether you return on Clavileño in the brief time his speed promises, or a contrary fortune returns and brings you back on foot, a pilgrim going from hostelry to hostelry and inn to inn, whenever you return you will find your ínsula where you left it, and your insulanos with the same desire they have always had to welcome you as their gov
ernor, and my intention will be the same; have no doubt about the truth of this, Señor Sancho, for that would be a clear affront to the desire I have to serve you.”

“No more, Señor,” said Sancho. “I’m a poor squire and I can’t carry the burden of so many courtesies; let my master climb on, and have them cover these eyes of mine, and commend me to God, and tell me if, when we travel through those heights, I’ll be able to commend myself to Our Lord or invoke whatever angels favor me.”

To which Trifaldi responded:

“Sancho, you certainly can commend yourself to God or anyone you wish, for Malambruno, though an enchanter, is a Christian, and he does his enchantments with a good deal of wisdom and care, and doesn’t interfere with anybody.”

“Well then,” said Sancho, “may God help me, and the Holy Trinity of Gaeta!”
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“Not since the memorable adventure of the waterwheels,” said Don Quixote, “have I seen Sancho as fearful as he is now, and if I were as superstitious as others, his pusillanimity would cause my courage to weaken somewhat. But come now, Sancho; with the permission of the duke and duchess, I want to say a few words to you alone.”

And leading Sancho to some trees in the garden, and grasping both his hands, he said:

“You see now, friend Sancho, the long journey that awaits us; only God knows when we shall return or what facility and opportunity this business will afford us; therefore, I should like you to withdraw now to your room, as if you were going to find something you needed for the journey, and as quickly as you can give yourself a good measure, perhaps even five hundred, of the three thousand and three hundred lashes you are obliged to receive, and once given you will have them, for well begun is half-done.”

“My God!” said Sancho. “Your grace must be out of your mind! Like people say: ‘You see I’m in a hurry and you demand virginity!’ Now that I have to sit on a bare board, your grace wants me to flog my bottom? Really and truly, your grace is wrong. Let’s go now and shave those duennas, and when we get back I promise your grace, like the man I am, to fulfill my obligation so fast it will make your grace happy, and that’s all I have to say.”

“Then with that promise, my good Sancho, I am comforted, and I believe you will keep it, because in fact, although a simpleton, you are a veridical man.”

“Vertical or horizontal,” said Sancho, “I’ll keep my word.”

And having said this, they returned to mount Clavileño, and as he was mounting, Don Quixote said:

“Put on your blindfold, Sancho, and climb up; the person who sends for us from lands so distant will not deceive us, for there would be little glory in deceiving those who trust him, and even if everything turns out contrary to what I imagine, the glory of having undertaken this deed cannot be obscured by any sort of malevolence.”

“Let’s go, Señor,” said Sancho, “for the beards and tears of these ladies have pierced my heart, and nothing I eat will taste good to me until I see them smooth again. Your grace should mount and put on your blindfold first, because if I have to sit on the hindquarters, the first one to mount has to be the man in the saddle.”

“That is true,” replied Don Quixote.

And taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he asked the Dolorous One to cover his eyes very carefully, and when she had covered them, he uncovered them again and said:

“If I remember correctly, I have read in Virgil about the Palladium of Troy, a wooden horse the Greeks presented to the goddess Pallas, which was pregnant with armed knights who subsequently caused the total ruin of Troy; and so it would be worthwhile first to see what Clavileño is carrying in his stomach.”

“There’s no reason to,” said the Dolorous One, “for I trust him and know that Malambruno is neither wicked nor a traitor; Señor Don Quixote, your grace can mount without fear, and if anything does happen to you, the fault will be mine.”

It seemed to Don Quixote that any reply he might give with regard to his safety would be to the detriment of his valor, and so with no further argument he mounted Clavileño and touched the peg, which turned easily; since he had no stirrups, and his legs hung straight down, he looked exactly like a painted or woven figure in a Flemish tapestry of a Roman triumph. Unwillingly, and very slowly, Sancho finally mounted, and settling himself the best he could on the hindquarters, he found them rather hard and not at all soft, and he asked the duke if it was possible to give him a pillow or cushion, whether from the drawing room couch of his lady the duchess or from the bed of some page, because the hindquarters of that horse seemed more like marble than wood.

To this the Countess Trifaldi said that Clavileño would not tolerate any manner or kind of embellishment on his back, but what Sancho could do was sit sidesaddle, and then he would not feel the hardness
quite as much. Sancho did so, and saying, “God help me,” he allowed his eyes to be covered, and after they had been covered he uncovered them again, and looking at everyone in the garden tenderly, and with tears in his eyes, he said that they should each help him in his hour of need with some Our Fathers and Hail Marys so that God would provide someone to say them on their behalf when they found themselves in similar danger. To which Don Quixote said:

“You thief, are you by any chance on the gallows, or in the final moments of your life, to plead in that fashion? Are you not, you craven and cowardly creature, in the same spot that was occupied by the fair Magalona, and from which she descended, not into the grave but to be the queen of France, if the histories do not lie? And I, who am at your side, shall I not compare myself to the valiant Pierres, who sat in the same place where I now sit? Cover your eyes, cover your eyes, you frightened animal, and do not allow your fear to escape your lips again, at least not in my presence.”

“Blindfold me,” responded Sancho, “and since you don’t want me to commend myself to God or be commended to Him, is it any wonder I’m afraid that there must be some legion of devils around here who’ll carry us off to Peralvillo?”
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Both were blindfolded, and Don Quixote, sensing that everything was as it should be, touched the peg, and as soon as he had placed his fingers on it, all the duennas and everyone else present raised their voices, saying:

“May God be your guide, valiant knight!”

“God go with you, intrepid squire!”

“Now, now you are in the air, moving through it faster than an arrow!”

“Now you are beginning to amaze and astonish everyone looking at you from the ground.”

“Hold on, valiant Sancho, you’re slipping! Be careful you don’t fall, because your fall will be worse than that of the daring boy who wanted to drive the chariot of his father, the Sun!”
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Sancho heard the voices, and pressing close to his master and putting his arms around him, he said:

“Señor, how can they say we’re going so high if we can hear their voices and they seem to be talking right here beside us?”

“Pay no attention to that, Sancho, for since these things and these flights are outside the ordinary course of events, at a distance of a thou-
sand leagues you will see and hear whatever you wish. And do not hold me so tightly, for you will throw me off; the truth is I do not know why you are perturbed or frightened; I would dare to avow that in all the days of my life I have never ridden a mount with a smoother gait: it almost seems as if we were not moving at all. Friend, banish your fear, for in fact the matter is proceeding as it should, and we have the wind at our backs.”

“That is true,” responded Sancho. “On this side the wind’s so strong it feels like a thousand bellows blowing on me.”

And there were large bellows blowing the air around him, for this adventure had been so well planned by the duke and the duchess and their steward that no element was lacking to make it perfect.

Don Quixote also felt the air blowing, and he said:

“There can be no doubt, Sancho, that we are approaching the second region of air where hail and snow are born; thunder, lightning, and thunderbolts are born in the third region; and if we continue to rise in this fashion, we shall soon come to the region of fire, and I do not know how to adjust the peg to keep us from going so high that we are burned.”

Then, with some tow-cloth on a reed that was easy to light and extinguish, their faces were warmed from a distance. Sancho, who felt the heat, said:

“By my soul, we must be in that place of fire already, or very close to it, because a good part of my beard has been singed, and I’m ready, Señor, to take off the blindfold and see where we are.”

“Do not,” responded Don Quixote. “Remember the true story of Licentiate Torralba,
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whom the devils carried through the air mounted on a reed, with his eyes closed, and in twelve hours he arrived in Rome and dismounted on the Torre di Nona,
5
which is a street in the city, and saw all the tumult, and the assault and the death of Bourbon,
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and in the morning he was back in Madrid, where he gave an account of all that he had seen; he himself said that while he was flying through the air, the devil told him to open his eyes, and he opened them, and he saw himself so close, or so it seemed, to the body of the moon that he could have grasped it with his hand, and he did not dare look down at the earth lest he faint. Therefore, Sancho, there is no reason for us to uncover our eyes; the one who is responsible for us will take care of us, and perhaps
we are circling and going higher so that we can suddenly swoop down on the kingdom of Candaya, the way a falcon or a hawk, no matter how high it soars, falls on a crane and captures it; and although it seems to us as if we left the garden less than half an hour ago, believe me when I say that we must have gone a great distance.”

“I don’t know about that,” responded Sancho Panza. “All I can say is that if Señora Magallanes
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or Magalona was happy with these hindquarters, she couldn’t have had very tender flesh.”

All these exchanges between the two valiant men were heard by the duke and the duchess and those in the garden and gave them extraordinary pleasure; and desiring to conclude the strange and carefully made adventure, they set fire to Clavileño’s tail with some tow-cloths, and since the horse was full of fireworks, it suddenly flew into the air with a fearsome noise and threw Don Quixote and Sancho Panza to the ground, half-scorched.

In the meantime, the entire bearded squadron of duennas had disappeared from the garden, including the Countess Trifaldi, and those who were left in the garden lay on the ground as if in a faint. Don Quixote and Sancho, badly bruised, rose to their feet, and looking all around them, they were astonished to find themselves in the same garden from which they had departed and to see such a large number of people lying on the ground; and their stupefaction was even greater when, on one side of the garden, they saw a huge lance driven into the ground and hanging from it by two cords of green silk a smooth white parchment, on which, in large gold letters, the following was written:

 

The illustrious knight Don Quixote of La Mancha has finished and concluded the adventure of the Countess Trifaldi, also called the Dolorous Duenna, and company, by simply attempting it.

Malambruno considers himself completely satisfied and entirely content; the chins of the duennas are now smooth and clean, and the sovereigns Don Clavijo and Antonomasia are in their pristine state. And when the squirely flogging is completed, the white dove will be free of the foul goshawks that pursue her and in the arms of her beloved suitor;
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so it has been ordained by the wise Merlin, protoenchanter of all enchanters.

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