Chap. VII In Which the Lady Trifaldi Proceeds With Her Memorable and Stupendous Story
Every word that Sancho uttered gave as much pleasure to the duchess as pain to Don Quixote; who having imposed silence on the squire, the afflicted duenna thus proceeded: ‘At length, after innumerable questions and replies, as the infanta continued still in her story without variation, the vicar pronounced sentence in favour of Don Clavijo, whom he declared her lawful husband; a circumstance that so deeply affected Queen Maguncia, mother to the Infanta Antonomasia, that we buried her in three days.’—‘Not before she was dead, I hope,’ said Sancho. ‘No, certainly,’ replied Trifaldin; ‘for in Candaya, people do nor bury the living, but the dead.’—’And yet, Signior Squire,’ said Sancho, ‘we have seen a person in a swoon buried for dead: and in my opinion, Queen Maguncia ought to have swooned rather than died; for while there is life there is hope, and the infanta’s slip was not so great as to oblige her to take on so much. Had the young lady buckled with her own page, or any other servant in the family, as I have heard many others have done, the mischief would not have been easily repaired; but to marry such a genteel, accomplished knight, as the countess hath described——verily, verily, although it was indiscreet, the indiscretion was not so great as people may imagine; for, according to the maxims of my master, who is here present, and will not suffer me to tell a lye, as learned men are created bishops, so may knights, especially knights-errant, be created kings and emperors.’—‘Thou art in the right, Sancho,’ said Don Quixote, ‘for a knight-errant, with two fingers-breadth of good fortune, is the very next in promotion to the greatest lord in the universe.—But, pray, afflicted lady, proceed; for I guess the bitter part of this hitherto agreeable story is still to come.’—‘How! the bitter part to come?’ replied the countess; ‘aye, and so bitter, that in comparison with it, gall and wormwood are sweet and savoury.
‘Well, then, the queen being really dead, and not in a swoon, was buried; but scarce was she covered with the mould, and scarce had we pronounced the long and last farewel, when, Quis talia fando, temperet a lacrymis? all of a sudden, above the tomb, appeared upon a wooden horse the giant Malambruno, Maguncia’s first cousin, who, exclusive of his cruel disposition, was an inchanter, and by his diabolical art, in order to revenge his relation’s death, and chastise the presumption of Don Clavijo, together with the folly of Antonomasia, fixed them both inchanted on Maguncia’s tomb, after having converted her into a monkey of brass, and him into a frightful crocodile of some unknown substance; between them is a plate of metal, displaying an inscription in the Syrian language, which being translated into the Candayan, and afterwards into the Castilian tongue, contains this sentence: “These two presumptuous lovers will not recover their pristine form, until the valorous Manchegan shall engage with me in single combat; for his stupendous valour alone, the fates have reserved this unseen adventure.” This metamorphosis being effected, he unsheathed a vast unmeasurable scymitar, and twisting his left hand in my hair, threatened to slit my windpipe, and slice off my head. I was confounded, my voice stuck in my throat, and I remained in an agony of fear: nevertheless, I made one effort, and in a faultering accent and plaintive tone, uttered such a pathetick remonstrance as induced him to suspend the execution of his rigorous revenge. In fine, he ordered all the duennas of the palace (there they are) to be brought into his presence, when, after having exaggerated our fault, reviled the disposition of duennas, their wicked schemes and contrivances, and accused them all of the crime of which I alone was guilty, he said he would not punish us with instant death, but with a more tedious penalty, by which we should suffer a civil and continued death. He had no sooner done speaking, than that very moment and instant, we all felt the pores of our faces open, and the whole surface tingle as if pricked with the points of needles; then clapping our hands on the part, every one found her visage in the condition which you shall now behold.’
So saying, the afflicted duenna and her companions, lifting up their veils, disclosed so many faces overgrown with huge beards, red, black, white, and party-coloured; at sight of which, the duke and duchess were amazed, Don Quixote and Sancho confounded, and all present overwhelmed with astonishment; as for the countess, she pursued her story in these words.
‘In this manner were we punished by the felonious and ill-designing Malambruno, who covered the smoothness and delicacy of our faces with the roughness of these bristles; and would to Heaven he had rather struck off our heads with his unmeasurable scymitar, than obscured the light of our countenances with this frightful bush; for if this honourable company will but consider, and in speaking what I am now going to say, I wish I could turn my eyes into fountains; but the consideration of our misfortune, and the oceans they have already rained, have drained them as dry as beards of corn; and, therefore, I must speak without tears: I say then, whither can a duenna go with a beard upon her chin? What father or mother will condole her disgrace? or who will give her the least assistance? for if, when her face is smoothed and martyred by a thousand cosmetick slops and washes, she can scarce find one who will favour her with affection, what must she do when her face becomes a perfect coppice of brushwood? O ye wretched duennas! my companions dear! in an unlucky minute did we see the light, and in an hapless hour were we engendered by our fathers!’
So saying, she pretended to faint away.