Chap. XX In Which Is Recorded the Adventure of the Second Afflicted, or Sorrowful Matron, Otherwise Called Donna Rodriguez
Cid Hamet recounts, that Don Quixote being now cured of his scratches, began to think the life he led in the castle was altogether contrary to the order of chivalry which he professed; and therefore he determined to beg leave of the duke and duchess to set out for Saragossa, as the time of the tournament approached; for there he laid his account with winning the armour which is the reward of the victor. Accordingly, while he one day sat at table with the duke and duchess, he began to execute his resolution in asking leave; when behold, all of a sudden, two women, as it afterwards appeared, entered the dining-room, covered with mourning from head to foot. One of them approaching Don Quixote, prostrated herself before him, and with her mouth close to his feet, uttered such melancholy, profound, and doleful groans, as overwhelmed all the spectators with confusion: for, although the duke and duchess imagined it was some joke which the servants intended to perpetrate upon the knight; yet, seeing how violently the woman sighed, groaned, and wept, they remained doubtful and in suspense, until the compassionate Don Quixote raised her from the ground, and intreated her to discover herself, by taking away the veil that concealed her rueful face. She complied with his request, and shewed herself to be what nobody believed she was; for she displayed the individual countenance of Donna Rodriguez, the duenna of the house, and the other mourner was her daughter, who had been seduced by the rich farmer’s son. All who knew her were struck with admiration, and the duke and duchess more than any body; for, although they took her to be a fool, and a person of a soft disposition, they did not think her folly could have risen to such acts of extravagance. In fine, Donna Rodriguez addressing herself to the duke and duchess, ‘I hope,’ said she, ‘your excellencies will give me leave to communicate a little with this knight: for it is necessary I should confer with him, that I may be safely extricated from the dilemma in which I am involved by the presumption of an evil-minded clown.’
The duke having assured her she was at full liberty to confer with Signior Don Quixote as much as she pleased, she directed her voice and her countenance to the knight, saying, ‘Some days are elapsed, most valiant knight, since I gave you an account of the wrong and treachery which a wicked peasant has done my dearly-beloved daughter, who is this unfortunate creature now standing before you; and you promised, in her behalf, to redress the wrong she had suffered: but now I am informed that you are going to depart from this castle, in quest of the happy adventures God shall throw in your way; and therefore I could wish that before you begin your career through those paths, you would defy this inflexible rustick, and compel him to marry my daughter, and so fulfil the promise he made of being her spouse, before he first yoked with her in the way of love; for, to think my lord duke will do me justice, is the same as to look for pears upon an elm, for the reason which I explained to your worship in private. And upon these terms, the Lord preserve your worship’s health, and grant us his protection.’
To this address, Don Quixote, with great gravity and stateliness of deportment, replied, ‘Worthy duenna, moderate, or rather dry up your tears, and spare your sighs; for here I undertake to redress the grievances of your daughter: though it would have been better for her, had not she so easily believed the protestations of lovers, who, for the most part, are very ready and alert to promise, but very heavy and backward in the performance; nevertheless, with the good leave of my lord duke, I will forthwith set out in quest of this perfidious youth, and having found him, defy and slay him, whensoe’er and wheresoe’er he shall refuse to perform his promise; for the principal aim of my profession is, to pardon the humble, and chastize the haughty; that is, to succour the wretched, and destroy the cruel.’—‘Your worship,’ replied the duke, ‘need not give yourself the trouble to go in quest of the rustick who is the subject of this worthy duenna’s complaint; nor is there any occasion for your worship’s asking my leave to challenge him to single combat; I consider the challenge as already given; I undertake for its being conveyed to the party, and even for its acceptance; and promise that he shall come to answer for himself in person at this castle, where I will furnish both with a listed field, and observe all the conditions that are wont and ought to be observed in such encounters; for justice shall be equally done to each, according to the obligation that lies on all those princes who furnish lists for combatants within the limits of their territories.’—‘With this security, then, and the good leave of your grace,’ replied Don Quixote, ‘I now, for once, renounce my gentility, humble and adjust myself to the level of the delinquent, making myself equal with him, that he may be entitled and enabled to fight with me: I therefore, though in his absence, challenge and defy him, for his wickedness in seducing this poor creature, who was a maid, and now, through his fault, is deprived of her maidenhead; and he shall either perform the promise he made of being her lawful spouse, or die in default of the performance.’
So saying, he pulled off one of his gloves, and threw it into the middle of the hall; this was taken up by the duke, who said he accepted the challenge in the name of his vassal: he likewise appointed the time at the distance of six days, and pitched upon the courtyard of the castle as the field of action: then they agreed to wear the usual arms of knights; namely, the lance, the shield, the plaited coat of mail, and all other pieces, without the least fraud, treachery, or superstition, to be viewed and examined by the judges of the lists.—‘But, before we proceed,’ said the duke, ‘it will be necessary that this good duenna, and this mistaken maid, should put the justice of their cause into the hands of Signior Don Quixote; otherwise nothing to the purpose will be done, nor will the challenge ever come to due execution.’
‘I do put my cause into his hands,’ replied the duenna. ‘And I too,’ cried the daughter; all in tears, and overwhelmed with shame and confusion. The particulars of this affair being adjusted, and the duke having determined with himself what was to be done in the family, the mourners retired, and the duchess ordered that for the future they should not be treated as her servants, but as ladies adventurers come to her house to demand justice: she therefore allotted a separate apartment to themselves, and they were attended as strangers, not without the amazement of other servants, who could not conceive what would be the issue of the folly and effrontery of Donna Rodriguez and her indiscreet and unhappy daughter.
At this instant, in order to compleat the mirth of the company, and finish their meal with more enjoyment, who should enter the hall but the page who carried the letters and presents to Teresa Panza, the wife of Governor Sancho Panza! The duke and duchess were extremely pleased at his arrival, and desirous to know the particulars of his journey, about which he was questioned accordingly. The page answered that he could not describe them in publick, or in a few words; but begged their excellencies would be pleased to reserve the account for their private ear; and, in the mean time entertain themselves with these letters. So saying, he produced two letters, and gave them to the duchess, one superscribed in these words: ‘To my Lady Duchess of I know not what nor where.’ And the other directed, ‘To my husband Sancho Panza, governor of the island Barataria, whom God prosper many more years than myself.’
The duchess would not toast her cake, as the saying is, until she had read her letter, which having opened and perused by herself, when she perceived it might be recited aloud for the benefit of the duke and the company, she rehearsed it with an audible voice, to this effect.
TERESA PANZA’S LETTER TO THE DUCHESS.
‘I received great satisfaction, my lady, from the letter your grace was pleased to write to me; for, in truth, it was what I greatly desired; the string of coral is very good, and my husband’s hunting-suit comes not short of it. Your ladyship’s having made my spouse Sancho a governor, has given great pleasure to all our town, although there are some who cannot believe it, especially the curate Mr. Nicholas, the barber, and the batchelor Sampson Carrasco; but that gives me no trouble; for seeing it be so, as it certainly is, let people say what they will: though, if the truth must be told, had not the string of coral and the hunting-suit come, I should not have believed it myself; for in our town, every body takes my husband for a noodle, and taken as he was, from governing an herd of goats, they cannot conceive what other government he can be good for. The Lord make him fit for his office, and conduct him in that way which will be most for the advantage of his children!
‘For my own part, dear lady of my soul, I am resolved, with your honour’s leave, to bring this happy day home to my own house, and hie me to the court, where I will loll in my coach, and burst the eyes of a thousand people who envy my good fortune: I beg, therefore, your excellency will tell my husband to send me money, and let it be a round sum; for it is very expensive living at court, where bread sells for a rial, and meat for thirty maravedis a pound; and that is an unconscionable price. If he does not chuse that I should go, let him give me notice in time, for my feet itch to be a travelling; and my neighbours and gossips tell me, if I and my daughter go to court, and appear in pomp and grandeur, my husband will come to be known by me, more than I by him; because, when people ask, “Who are these ladies in that coach?” one of my servants will answer, “These are the wife and daughter of Sancho Panza, governor of the island Barataria.” And in this manner Sancho will be known, I shall be respected, and to Rome for every thing.
‘I was vexed to the heart that this year there was no acorn harvest in our town; nevertheless I send your highness about half a peck, which I gathered one by one upon the mountain, and went thither on purpose: I could find none larger, though I wish they were as big as ostrich eggs.
‘I hope your pomposity will not forget to write to me, and I will take care to send an answer, giving an account of my own health, and of every thing that may be worth mentioning from this place, where I remain praying to our Lord that he will preserve your grace, without forgetting me. My daughter Sanchica and my son kiss your honour’s hand: and this is all at present from her who had much rather see your grace, than subscribe herself, your humble servant,
‘Teresa Panza.’
Great was the satisfaction which all the hearers received from this letter of Teresa Panza, though the greatest share fell to the duke and duchess; and her grace asked Don Quixote, whether or not he thought it would be proper to open the letter directed for the governor, which she imagined must be excellent in its kind. The knight said he would open it, to oblige her grace; and having done so, found the contents to this purpose.
TERESA PANZA’S LETTER TO HER HUSBAND SANCHO PANZA.
‘I received thy letter, dear Sancho of my soul, and I promise and swear to thee, on the faith of a catholick christian, I was within two fingers breadth of running mad with joy; and take notice, brother, when I heard thou wast a governor, I had like to have dropped down dead with pure pleasure; for thou knowest they say, sudden joy kills as well as deadly sorrow: thy daughter Sanchica scattered her water about insensibly, out of mere satisfaction: thy hunting-suit lay before me, the string of corals sent by my lady duchess was tied round my neck, the letters were in my hand, and the messenger in my presence; and yet, I imagined and believed, that all I saw and handled was a dream; for who could conceive that a goatherd should come to be governor of islands? Thou know’st, my friend, that my mother said, One must live long to see a great deal: this I mention, because I hope to see more if I live longer; for I do not intend to stop, until I see thee a farmer, or collector of the revenue; offices which, though they carry those who abuse them to the devil, are, in short, always bringing in the penny.
‘My lady duchess will tell thee how desirous I am of going to court: consider of it, and let me know thy pleasure; for I will endeavour to do thee honour there, by riding in my coach.
‘The curate, barber, batchelor, and even the sexton, cannot believe thou art a governor, and say the whole is a deception or matter of inchantment, like all the affairs of thy master Don Quixote. Sampson vows he will go in quest of thee, and drive this government out of thy head, as well as the madness out of Don Quixote’s scull: I say nothing, but laugh in my own sleeve, look at my beads, and contrive how to make thy hunting-suit into a gown and petticoat for our daughter. I have sent some acorns to my lady duchess, and I wish they were of gold: send me some strings of pearl, if they are in fashion in thy island. The news of our town are these: the widow of the hill has matched her daughter with a bungling painter, who came here and undertook all sorts of brush-work; the corporation employed him to paint his majesty’s arms over the door of the town house; he demanded two ducats for the job, and they paid him beforehand; but after he had laboured eight whole days, he produced nothing, and saying he could not hit upon such trifles, returned the money; and yet for all that, he married with the character of a good workman; true it is, he hath already laid aside the pencil, and taken up the spade, and goes to the field like a gentleman. Pedro de Lobo’s son has taken orders, and shaved his head, with intention to become a priest; and this circumstance being known by Minguilla, niece of Mingo Silvato, she is going to sue him upon promise of marriage: evil tongues scruple not to say she is with child by him; but this he positively denies. This year there are no olives, nor a drop of vinegar in the whole town. A company of soldiers marching this way, carried off three girls belonging to the village; but I will not tell thee who they are, because perhaps they will return, and then there will not be wanting husbands who will take them with all their faults. Sanchica, by making bone-lace, clears eight maravedis a day, which she keeps in a pipkin, to be a stock to her when she grows up: but now, that she is a governor’s daughter, thou wilt give her a portion without her working for it. The publick fountain is dried up. A thunder-bolt fell upon the pillory, and there may they always light! I expect an answer to this epistle, and thy resolution about my going to court: and so, God preserve thee more years than I have to live, or as many; for I should not chuse to leave thee behind me in this world. Thy faithful spouse,
‘Teresa Panza.’
The letters were read with admiration, esteem, laughter, and applause; and the entertainment was crowned by the arrival of the courier who brought Sancho’s epistle to Don Quixote, which, being likewise recited in publick, rendered the governor’s folly extremely doubtful. The duchess retired, in order to be informed by the page of what had happened to him in Sancho’s village; and he recounted the particulars at large, without leaving one circumstance untold: he delivered the acorns, together with a cheese, which Teresa vouched for excellent, and even preferred to those of Tronchon. This the duchess received with excessive pleasure, in the enjoyment of which we will leave her grace, and relate in what manner concluded the government of the great Sancho Panza, the flower and mirrour of all insulary governors.
END OF BOOK III. PART II.