Book III
Chap. I Of the Pleasant Conversation That Passed Between the Duchess, Her Women, and Sancho Panza; Worthy to Be Read and Remembered
The history then relates, that Sancho did not sleep that afternoon; but, according to his promise, went, eating all the way, into the apartment of the duchess, who took great delight in hearing his conversation, and desired him to sit close by her on a joint-stool, though the squire, out of pure good-breeding, begged to be excused; but her grace told him, he should sit as governor, and speak as squire, for in both capacities he deserved the individual seat of the champion Cid Roy Dias.
Sancho, shrugging up his shoulders, obeyed and took his place, surrounded by all the damsels and duennas, who listened with profound silence and attention. Nevertheless, the duchess was the first who began the discourse, saying—‘Now that we are by ourselves, unheard by any body, I must entreat Mr. Governor, to resolve certain doubts of mine, produced by the printed history of the great Don Quixote; one of which doubts is this: as honest Sancho never saw Dulcinea, I mean, the Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, nor conveyed to her the letter of Signior Don Quixote, which remained with the memorandum book in Sierra Morena, how durst he feign an answer, and pretend that he found her winnowing wheat, a circumstance altogether ridiculous and untrue, so much to the prejudice of the peerless Dulcinea’s reputation, and so ill becoming the station and fidelity of a trusty squire?’
Without making any immediate answer to this interrogation, Sancho rose from his seat, and moving softly on his tiptoes, with his body bent, and a finger on his lips, examined the whole apartment, lifting up and looking behind the tapestry; and this scrutiny being made, returned to his stool, and replied—‘Now, my Lady Duchess, that I am assured there is no skulker listening, and that we are not overheard by any but this good company, I will, without fear or trembling, answer all the questions of your grace; and first and foremost, I will own, I look upon my master Don Quixote as an incurable madman; although sometimes he says things, which, to my thinking, and in the opinion of all who hear them, are so sensible and well-directed, that even Satan himself could not mend them: nevertheless, I am really and truly, and without any scruple, fully persuaded within myself, that he is downright distracted. Now as I am possessed with this notion, I venture to make him believe any story, without either head or tail, like that of the answer to his letter, and another trick that I played him six or eight days ago, which is not yet recorded in the history; I mean, the enchantment of Donna Dulcinea, which I palmed upon him, though it was a tale as wild and uncertain as the hills of Ubeda170.’
The duchess desired he would recount that enchantment or deception; and he accordingly related it exactly as it happened, to the no small entertainment of the hearers; but when he was about to proceed in his discourse, her grace interposing, said—‘From this recital of honest Sancho, a scruple has started in my mind, and whispers me in the ear, since Don Quixote de La Mancha is so lunatick, crazy, and mad, and his squire Sancho Panza, who knows his infirmity, nevertheless serves and follows him, and even depends upon his vain promises; the said squire must, without all doubt, be more crazy and mad than his master; and if this be the case, as it certainly is, it would be no great sign of wisdom in you, my Lady Duchess, to bestow an island on such a governor; for how will he be able to govern other people, who cannot govern himself?’
‘’Fore God, my lady,’ cried the squire, ‘your scruple starts in the right place; and I beg your ladyship will let it speak out in its own way, for I know it speaks truth. Had I been wise, I should have left my master long ago; but this was my fate and my misventure: I cannot do otherwise, but follow him I must. We are of the same town; I have eaten of his bread; I have an affection for him; he returns me his love, and has given me his colts; but, above all, I am constant and faithful, and therefore nothing can possibly part us but the sexton’s shovel. If your highness does not chuse to perform your promise of the island, God made me of a less matter, and perhaps your refusal may turn out to the ease of my conscience; for maugre all my madness, I understand the proverb that says, The pismire found wings to her sorrow: and perhaps Sancho the Squire may get sooner to heaven than Governor Sancho; There’s as good bread baked here as in France; and By night all cats are grey; and sure, The man his lot may rue, who has not broke his fast by two; Between man and man the maw cannot differ a span; and, as the saying is, With hay or with straw we’ll fill up the craw; The little birds of the field have God for their steward and shield; Four yards of coarse Cuenca stuff are warmer than as much of fine Segovia serge; When we leave this world and are laid in the ground, the Lord goes in as narrow a path as his labourer; and, The pope’s body takes up no more room than the sexton’s; for though the one be higher than the other, When we go to the pit, we must lie snug, and make it fit; or, We shall be obliged to find room, though scanty is the tomb: and so good night. Wherefore, I say again, if your grace will not give me the island, because I’m a fool, I shall be so wise as not to break my heart at the disappointment; and I have often heard, that the devil skulks behind the cross; It is not all gold that glitters; and that, From his oxen, his yokes, and his ploughs, Bamba the husbandman was raised to the throne of Spain; and that from his riches, pastime, and embroidery, Rodorigo was taken to be devoured by serpents, if the rhimes of old ballads do not lye.’
Here Donna Rodriguez the duenna, who was one of the hearers, interposing, ‘Wherefore should they lye?’ said she, ‘for the ballad says as how they thrust King Rodorigo all alive into a tomb full of toads, lizards, and snakes; and two days after, he was heard to cry with a weak and doleful voice, “Now they eat me! now they gnaw the part in which I sinned so heinously!” And therefore the gentleman is in the right to say he would rather be a husbandman than a king, to be devoured by vermin.’
The duchess could neither help laughing at the simplicity of her duenna, nor admiring the discourse and proverbs of Sancho, to whom she replied—‘Honest Sancho very well knows whatsoever a knight promises must be fulfilled, even though it should cost him his life; now, my lord and husband the duke, though no errant, is, nevertheless, a knight; and therefore will perform his promise of the island, in spite of all the envy and malice of the world; let Sancho, then, be of good cheer; for when he least thinks of the matter, he will see himself seated in the saddle of his island and dominion, and grasp his government, which he would not exchange for one of superfine brocade; but I charge him to mind how he governs his vassals, who, I give him notice, are all people of honest parents and approved loyalty.’
‘With respect to their being happy under my government,’ said the squire, ‘you need not give me any thing in charge; for I am naturally charitable and compassionate towards the poor; and, From him who can knead and bake, it is not easy to steal a cake. By my salvation, they shall not pass false dice upon me! I am an old dog, not to be taken in with, “Come hither, poor Tray171.” I know how to snuff my peepers upon proper occasions; nor will I consent to walk with cobwebs in my eyes; for I know where the shoe pinches. This I observe, because the righteous shall always have the benefit of my heart and hand, but the wicked shall have neither foot nor footing. In my opinion, every governor must have a beginning in the art and mystery of government, and perhaps, in a fortnight’s administration, I shall lick my fingers after the office, and know as much of the matter as I do of day-labour, to which I was bred.’
‘Sancho,’ said the duchess, ‘you are certainly in the right; for no man was ever a scholar at his birth; and bishops are made of men, and not of blocks, but to return to our former discourse about the inchantment of the Lady Dulcinea; I take it for an absolute certainty, and not a bare asseveration, that Sancho’s scheme of deceiving his master, and making him believe that the country wench was Dulcinea, whom the knight could not know, because she was inchanted; I say, this scheme was altogether the invention of one of those inchanters who persecute Don Quixote; for I know, from very good authority, that the village maiden who skipped upon the ass, was really and truly the individual Dulcinea del Toboso; and that Sancho, in thinking himself the deceiver, was, in fast, the person deceived: a truth of which we ought no more to doubt, than of things we never saw; for Signior Sancho Panza must know, that here also we have friendly inchanters, who, out of real regard, impart to us every thing that passes, truly and distinctly, without circumlocution or deceit; and therefore, Sancho may believe me, when I affirm, that the jumping wench was, and is, Dulcinea del Toboso, who is as much inchanted as the mother that bore her; and when we dream of no such thing, we shall see her in her own shape, and then Sancho will be undeceived.’
‘There is nothing more likely,’ cried the squire; ‘and now I am apt to believe my master’s account of the cave of Montesinos, where he saw my Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, dressed in the same manner that I described, when I inchanted her for my own amusement. Now, the whole affair must have been quite the reverse, as your ladyship observes; for it cannot be supposed that my ignorant pate could contrive, in an instant, such an ingenious stratagem; nor can I think my master such a fool, as upon my weak and meagre persuasion, to believe such an improbable device; but for all that, my lady, your goodness ought not to take me for an evil-minded person, seeing a blockhead, like me, is not obliged to bore into the designs and knavery of abominable inchanters. I contrived the scheme, in order to escape the displeasure of my master Don Quixote, and not with any design to do him hurt; and if it has turned out otherwise, there’s a Judge in heaven who knows the heart.’—‘Very true,’ answered the duchess; ‘but tell me now, Sancho, the story of the cave of Montesinos, which I shall be extremely glad to hear.’
Then Sancho Panza recounted every circumstance of that adventure, as it hath been already related; and her grace having heard the whole—‘From this incident,’ said she, ‘we may infer, that since the great Don Quixote says he beheld in that place the same country wench whom Sancho saw in the neighbourhood of Toboso, it could be no other than Dulcinea, and that the inchanters of this country are very officious, and extremely curious.’—‘This I will venture to say,’ replied Panza, ‘that if my Lady Dulcinea del Toboso is really inchanted, ’tis her own loss, and that it is no business of mine to enter the lists with my master’s enemies, who are certainly both wicked and numerous. True it is, she I saw was a country-wench, for such I took her, and such I judged her to be. If that was Dulcinea, it ought not to be laid to my charge, nor am I to be blackened for that reason; yet I must be lugged in, at every bawdy house bench, with “Sancho said this; Sancho did that; Sancho went, and Sancho came!” as if Sancho were just such as they would please to make him, and not the very same Sancho Panza who has already travelled all the world over in books, as I have been informed by Samson Carrasco, who is, at least, a batcheleering person of Salamanca; and such people cannot tell an untruth, except when it comes into their heads, or will turn to their account; wherefore, nobody has any right to meddle with me; and seeing I live in good repute, and I have heard my master say, A good name is better than tons of wealth, even shove me into this government, and they shall see marvellous things; for he who has been a good squire, will never become a bad governor.’
‘All that honest Sancho has uttered,’ said the duchess, ‘is Catonian wisdom, or at least the very essence of Michael Verino172, Florentibus occidit annis. In a word, to speak in his own stile, A good drinker is often found under a rusty cloak.’—‘In sober truth, my Lady,’ answered Sancho, ‘I never in my life drank out of malice; from thirst I might, for I have not the least spice of hypocrisy in my belly; I drink when I chuse it, and even when I would rather be excused, because I am desired so to do, that I may not seem shy or ill-bred; for sure he must have an heart of marble who can refuse to pledge a friend; for though I put on my shoes, I will not defile them; especially, as the squires of knights-errant usually drink water, as they are always strolling through forests, woods, and meadows, and over rocks and mountains, without finding the smallest charity of wine, even though one should offer to purchase it with an eye.’—‘I believe what you say,’ answered the duchess: ‘at present Sancho may go to rest; and we shall afterwards talk more at large upon these subjects, and take order that with all convenient dispatch he may be, to use his own words, shoved into that same government.’
Sancho kissed his hands again, and begged her grace would be so good as to give directions about the entertainment of Dapple, who was the light of his eyes. When she asked, what he meant by Dapple—‘My ass,’ replied the squire, ‘whom, rather than use the vulgar term, I call Dapple: when I first came to the castle, I desired Madam Duenna here to take care of him; and truly she was as much affronted as if I had called her ugly and old; though I think it would be more natural and proper for duennas to look after cattle, than to regulate rooms of state. God’s my life! what a spite a gentleman of our town had to these waiting-gentlewomen.’—‘He must be some ill-bred clown,’ said Donna Rodriguez the duenna; ‘for had he been a gentleman of birth, he would have exalted them above the horns of the moon.’—‘Enough, for the present,’ resumed the duchess: ‘hold your tongue, Donna Rodriguez, and let Signior Panza make himself perfectly easy, and leave me to take special care of Dapple, whom, as being a moveable appertaining to Sancho, I will place him above the apple of mine eye.’—‘The stable is a place good enough for him,’ answered the squire; ‘for neither he nor I are worthy of being placed for one moment above the apple of your highness’s eye; and I will as soon consent to his being disposed of in that manner, as I would to drive a dagger in my breast; for although, as my master says, in point of courtesy, one ought to lose the game by a card too much, rather than by a card too little; in respect to asses, and the apple of an eye, one ought to proceed cautiously with the compass in his hand, and measure as he goes.’
‘Sancho may conduct him to his government,’ said the duchess, ‘and there entertain him to his heart’s content; nay, even infranchise him from all labour.’—‘Your grace, my Lady Duchess, needs not think much of that,’ replied the squire; ‘for I have seen more than one or two asses go to governments; and therefore it will be no new practice if I carry Dapple to mine.’
This remark renewed the laughter and satisfaction of the duchess, who having dismissed him to his repose, went to communicate the conversation to the duke; and this noble couple contrived and gave directions about the execution of a pleasant joke upon Don Quixote, which should turn out a famous incident, and be conformable in all respects to the stile of chivalry; in which they invented a number, with such propriety and discretion, that they are counted the best adventures contained in this important history.