Don Quixote [Trans. by Edith Grossman] (129 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)

Sancho listened very attentively to the letter, and it was considered and held to be very wise by all who heard it; then Sancho got up from the table, called the secretary, went with him to his room, and without further delay wished to respond immediately to his master Don Quixote; and he told the secretary that without adding or taking away anything, he was to write down what he dictated, and the secretary did; the letter of reply said the following:

LETTER FROM SANCHO PANZA TO DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA

I’ve been so busy with my affairs that I don’t have time to scratch my head or even to cut my nails, and so I’m wearing them too long, God help me. I say this, dear master of my soul, so that your grace won’t be surprised that I haven’t told you anything until now about whether I’m faring well or badly in this governorship, where I’m hungrier than when the two of us were wandering through the forests and the wild places.

My lord the duke wrote to me the other day, saying that certain spies had entered the ínsula to kill me, and so far I haven’t discovered any except for a certain doctor who is in this place on salary to kill all the governors who come here: his name is Dr. Pedro Recio, and he comes from Tirteafuera, and now your grace can see what a name he has and whether or not I should be afraid of dying at his hands! And this doctor says about himself that he doesn’t cure diseases when they’ve arrived but prevents them so they won’t come, and the medicines he uses are diet and more diet until the person’s nothing but skin and bones, as if being skinny weren’t a worse ailment than having a fever. In short, he’s starving me to death, and I’m dying of despair because I thought I’d come to this governorship and have hot food and cold drinks, and please my body with linen sheets and featherbeds, but I’ve come to do penance, like a hermit, and since I’m not doing it willingly, I think the devil will take me in the end.

So far I haven’t touched a fee or taken a bribe, and I can’t think what it
means because they’ve told me here that people give or lend a good deal of money to the governors who usually come to this ínsula, even before they arrive, and that this is common practice for everybody who takes a governorship, not only this one.

Last night, when I was on patrol, I came across a very beautiful maiden in a man’s clothes, and her brother who was dressed as a woman; my butler fell in love with the girl and chose her in his mind to be his wife, according to what he has told me, and I chose the boy to be my son-in-law; today we’ll put our thoughts into practice with their father, whose name is Diego de la Llana, a gentleman and as old a Christian as you could wish.

I visit the market squares, as your grace advises, and yesterday I found a marketwoman who was selling fresh hazelnuts, and I saw that she had mixed a
fanega
2
of fresh hazelnuts with a
fanega
of ones that were old, worthless, and rotten; I took them all for the boys in catechism class, who’ll know very well how to tell them apart, and I ordered her not to come to the market square for two weeks. People told me it was a good thing to do; what I can tell your grace is that in this village they say there are no people worse than marketwomen, because they’re all shameless, hardhearted, and bold, and I believe it because I’ve seen them in other villages.

I’m very happy that my lady the duchess has written to Teresa Panza, my wife, and sent her the present your grace has mentioned, and I’ll try to show my gratitude at the right time: your grace should kiss her hands on my behalf, saying that I say she hasn’t thrown anything into a torn sack, as my actions will prove.

I wouldn’t want your grace to have any unpleasant disputes with my lord and my lady, because if your grace argues with them, it will obviously harm me, and it wouldn’t be right if after you advised me to show gratitude, your grace doesn’t show it to those who have granted you so many favors and treated you so well in their castle.

I don’t understand what you said about clawing, but I imagine it must be one of the evil villainies that wicked enchanters usually do to you; I’ll find out when we see each other.

I’d like to send your grace something, but I don’t know what to send, except some very curious tubing for syringes that they make on this ínsula to be used with bladders; though if my position lasts, I’ll find something to send to you, one way or another.

If my wife, Teresa Panza, writes to me, would your grace please pay the
cost and send me the letter, for I long to know the condition of my house, my wife, and my children. And with this, may God free your grace from the evil intentions of enchanters, and take me from this governorship safe and sound, which I doubt, because according to how Dr. Pedro Recio treats me, I don’t think I’ll get away with more than my life.

Your grace’s servant,
S
ANCHO
P
ANZA THE
G
OVERNOR

The secretary sealed the letter and dispatched the courier immediately, and then the men who were deceiving Sancho met and decided how to dispatch him from the governorship; Sancho spent the afternoon issuing some ordinances concerning the good government of what he imagined to be an ínsula, and he ordered that there were to be no speculators in provisions in the nation, and that wine could be imported from anywhere, as long as its place of origin was indicated, so that it could be priced according to its value, quality, and reputation, and whoever watered it or changed its name would lose his life.

He lowered the price of all footwear, especially shoes, because it seemed to him they were sold at an exorbitant price; he put a cap on the salaries of servants, which were galloping unchecked along the road of greed; he imposed very serious penalties on those who sang lewd and lascivious songs, either by night or by day. He ordered that no blind man could sing verses about miracles unless he carried authentic testimonies to their truth, because it seemed to him that most of the ones blind men sang about were false, bringing those that were true into disrepute.

He created and appointed a bailiff for the poor, not to persecute them but to examine them to see if they really were poor, because in the shadow of feigned cripples and false wounds come the strong arms of thieves and very healthy drunkards. In short, he ordained things so good that to this day they are obeyed in that village and are called
The Constitution of the Great Governor Sancho Panza.

CHAPTER LII

Which recounts the adventure of the second Dolorous, or Anguished, Duenna, also called Doña Rodríguez

Cide Hamete recounts that when Don Quixote’s claw marks had healed, it seemed to him that the life he was leading in the castle contradicted the entire order of chivalry that he professed, and so he resolved to ask the permission of the duke and duchess to leave for Zaragoza, whose tourney was fast approaching; there he intended to win the armor that is awarded at the festival.

One day, when he was sitting at the table with the duke and duchess and beginning to put his intention into effect and to ask for their permission, suddenly there came through the door of the great room two women, as they subsequently proved to be, covered in mourning from head to toe, and one of them came up to Don Quixote and threw herself flat on the floor before him, her mouth pressed to his feet, and lamenting with such sad, deep, and dolorous moans that everyone who heard and saw her was thrown into confusion; although the duke and duchess thought it was probably a trick their servants wanted to play on Don Quixote, still, when they saw how earnestly the woman sighed, moaned, and wept, they were uncertain and in suspense, until Don Quixote, filled with compassion, lifted her from the floor and asked her to disclose her identity by removing the veil that hid her weeping face.

She did so, and showed herself to be the last person anyone expected, because she revealed the countenance of the duenna Doña Rodríguez, and the other woman in mourning was her daughter, who had been deceived by the rich farmer’s son. All those who knew the duenna were astounded, the duke and duchess more than anyone, for although they thought her a harmless fool, they did not think she would go so far as to
commit acts of madness. Finally, Doña Rodríguez turned to her master and mistress and said:

“May it please Your Excellencies to give me permission to converse with this knight for a moment, that being necessary to the success of a matter in which I have become involved because of the audacity of an ill-intentioned villain.”

The duke said that he gave it, and that she might converse with Señor Don Quixote for as long as she wished. She, directing her voice and turning her face toward Don Quixote, said:

“Some days ago, O valiant knight, I recounted to you the injustice and treachery committed by a wicked farmer against my dearly loved daughter, this unfortunate woman here present, and you promised to defend her, righting the wrong that has been done to her, and now it has come to my attention that you wish to leave this castle to wander in search of good fortune, and may God grant that to you; but before you slip away down those roads I would like you to challenge this uncouth rustic and force him to marry my daughter and fulfill the promise he made to be her husband before and prior to his lying with her, because to think that my lord the duke will execute justice is to ask the elm tree for pears, for the reason I have already mentioned to your grace in private. And so, may Our Lord grant your grace very good health, and may He not forsake us.”

Don Quixote responded to these words with great solemnity and gravity, saying:

“Good duenna, moderate your tears, or, I should say, dry them, and hold back your sighs, for I take it as my responsibility to assist your daughter, who should not have been so ready to believe lovers’ promises, which are simple to make and very difficult to keep; and so, with the permission of my lord the duke, I shall leave immediately to look for this heartless young man, and I shall find him, and challenge him, and kill him if and when he refuses to keep the promise he made, for the principal intention of my profession is to forgive the humble and punish the proud, I mean to say, to assist the unfortunate and destroy the cruel.”

“There is no need,” responded the duke, “for your grace to take the trouble to look for the rustic about whom this good duenna is complaining, nor is there any need for your grace to ask my permission to challenge him, for I consider him already challenged, and take responsibility for informing him of this challenge, and telling him to accept it and come to my castle to answer it for himself, and I shall give both of you a
reliable field, satisfying all the conditions that generally ought to be satisfied in such actions, and satisfying the demands of justice for each of you, which is the obligation of all princes who provide an unencumbered field to those who do battle within the borders of their domains.”

“Then with this assurance and the kind permission of your highness,” replied Don Quixote, “I say here that for this occasion I renounce my status as gentleman, and lower myself to the level of the miscreant’s base birth, and make myself his equal, thereby allowing him to do combat with me; and so, although he is absent, I challenge and defy him because of the wrong he committed in defrauding this poor woman who was a maiden, and no longer is, the fault being his; and he must fulfill the promise he made to her to be her legitimate husband, or die in the contest.”

And then, removing a glove, he threw it into the middle of the room, and the duke picked it up, saying, as he had said before, that he accepted the challenge in the name of his vassal and set the time for their encounter as six days hence, and the field, the courtyard of the castle, and the weapons, those customarily used by knights: lance and shield and articulated armor, and all the other accoutrements, without deceit, fraud, or trickery of any kind, for they would be seen and examined by the judges in the field.

“But before anything else, it is necessary for this excellent duenna and this imperfect maiden to put their right to justice in the hands of Señor Don Quixote, for otherwise nothing will be accomplished, and the challenge will not be carried out as it should.”

“I do,” responded the duenna.

“And so do I,” added her daughter, tearful, ashamed, and bad-tempered.

Then, having made this arrangement, and the duke having decided what needed to be done, the women in mourning left, and the duchess ordered that from then on they were to be treated not as her servants, but as enterprising ladies who had come to her house to ask for justice; and so they were given a private room and served as if they were strangers, not without consternation among the other serving women who did not know where the foolishness and audacity of Doña Rodríguez and her unfortunate daughter would end.

At this point, to give a final touch of joy to the festivities and bring the meal to a successful conclusion, into the room came the page who had carried the letters and presents to Teresa Panza, wife of the governor
Sancho Panza, and his arrival made the duke and duchess very happy, for they were longing to know what had happened to him on his journey; when they asked him, the page responded that he could not tell them publicly, or in only a few words, and if it pleased Their Excellencies, that should wait until they were alone, and in the meantime they could enjoy the letters. And he took out two letters and placed them in the hands of the duchess. One of them said in the address:
Letter for my lady the duchess so-and-so of I don’t know where,
and the other said:
To my husband, Sancho Panza, governor of the ínsula of Barataria. God keep him more years than me.
The duchess could not wait for her bread to bake, as the saying goes, until she had read her letter, and she opened it and read it to herself, and seeing that she could read it aloud so that the duke and the others present could hear it, she read as follows:

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