CHAPTER LXXI.

_Of the arrival of Clavileno; with the conclusion of this prolix adventure._

Evening now came on, which was the time when the famous horse Clavileno was expected to arrive. When lo, on a sudden, four savages entered the garden, all clad in green ivy, and bearing on their shoulders a large wooden horse! They set him upon his legs on the ground, and one of the savages said, "Let the knight mount who has the courage to bestride this wondrous machine." "Not I," quoth Sancho; "for neither have I courage, nor am I knight." "And let the squire, if he has one," continued the savage, "mount the crupper, and trust to valorous Malambruno; for no other shall do him harm. Turn but the pin on his forehead, and he will rush through the air to the spot where Malambruno waits; and to shun the danger of a lofty flight, let the eyes of the riders be covered till the neighing of the horse shall give the signal of his completed journey." Having thus spoken, he left Clavileno, and with courteous demeanour departed with his companions.

The afflicted lady no sooner perceived the horse than, almost with tears, addressing herself to Don Quixote, "Valorous knight," said she, "Malambruno has kept his word; here is the horse. Mount, therefore, with your squire behind you, and give a happy beginning to your journey." "Madam," said Don Quixote, "I will do it with all my heart, without waiting for either cushion or spurs: so great is my desire to see your ladyship and these your unfortunate friends rescued." "That will not I," quoth Sancho, "either with a bad or a good will; and if this shaving cannot be done without my mounting, let my master seek some other squire, or these madams some other barber; for being no wizard, I have no stomach for these journeys. What will my islanders say when they hear that their governor goes riding upon the wind?

Besides, it is three thousand leagues from here to Candaya,--what if the horse should tire upon the road, or the giant be fickle and change his mind? Seven years, at least, it would take us to travel home, and by that time I should have neither island nor islanders that would own me! No, no, I know better things; I know, too, that delay breeds danger; and when they bring you a heifer, be ready with a rope."

"Friend Sancho," said the duke, "your island neither floats nor stirs, and therefore it will keep till your return; and as you know that all offices of any value are obtained by some consideration, what I expect in return for this government I have conferred upon you, is only that you attend your master on this memorable occasion; and whether you return upon Clavileno with the expedition his speed promises, or be it your fortune to return on foot, like a pilgrim, from house to house, and from inn to inn,--however it may be, you will find your island where you left it, and your islanders with the same desire to receive you for their governor. My good-will is equally unchangeable; and to doubt that, Signor Sancho, would be a notorious injury to the inclination I have to serve you." "Good your worship, say no more,"

quoth Sancho; "I am a poor squire, and my shoulders cannot bear the weight of so much kindness. Let my master mount; let my eyes be covered, and good luck go with us. But tell me, when we are aloft, may I not say my prayers, and entreat the saints and angels to help me?"

"Yes, surely," answered the Trifaldi, "you may invoke whomsoever you please; for Malambruno is a Christian, and performs his enchantments with great discretion and much precaution." "Well, let us away," quoth Sancho, "and Heaven prosper us!" "Since the memorable business of the fulling-mills," said Don Quixote, "I have never seen thee, Sancho, in such trepidation; and were I as superst.i.tious as some people, this extraordinary fear of thine would a little discourage me. But come hither, friend; for, with the leave of these n.o.bles, I would speak a word or two with thee in private."

Don Quixote then drew aside Sancho among some trees out of hearing; and taking hold of both his hands said to him: "Thou seest, my good Sancho, the long journey we are about to undertake; the period of our return is uncertain, and Heaven alone knows what leisure or convenience our affairs may admit during our absence; I earnestly beg, therefore, now that opportunity serves, thou wilt retire to thy chamber, as if to fetch something necessary for the journey, and there, in a trice, give thyself, if it be but five hundred lashes, in part of the three thousand and three hundred for which thou art pledged; for work well begun is half ended." "By my soul," quoth Sancho, "your worship is stark mad! Verily, verily, your worship is out of all reason. Let us go and shave these duennas; and on my return, I promise to make such despatch in getting out of debt that your worship shall be contented,--can I say more?" "With that promise," said Don Quixote, "I feel somewhat comforted, and believe thou wilt perform it; for though thou art not over wise, thou art stanch in thy integrity."

The knight and squire now returned to the company; and as they were preparing to mount Clavileno, Don Quixote said: "Hoodwink thyself, Sancho, and get up: he that sends for us from countries so remote cannot, surely, intend to betray us, for he would gain little glory by deceiving those who confide in him. And supposing the success of the adventure should not be equal to our hopes, yet of the glory of so brave an attempt, no malice can deprive us." "Let us begone, sir,"

quoth Sancho, "for the beards and tears of these ladies have pierced my heart, and I shall not eat to do me good till I see them smooth again. Mount, sir, and hoodwink first; for if I am to have the crupper, your worship, who sits in the saddle, must get up first."

"That is true," replied Don Quixote; and pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, he requested the afflicted lady to place the bandage over his eyes; but it was no sooner done than he uncovered them again, saying, "I remember to have read, in the aeneid of Virgil, that the fatal wooden horse, dedicated by the Greeks to their tutelary G.o.ddess Minerva, was filled with armed knights, who, by that stratagem got admittance into Troy, and wrought its downfall. Will it not therefore be prudent, before I trust myself upon Clavileno, to examine what may be in his belly?" "There is no need of that," said the Trifaldi; "for I am confident Malambruno has nothing in him of the traitor: your worship may mount him without fear; and should any harm ensue, let the blame fall on me alone." Don Quixote, now considering that to betray any further doubts would be a reflection on his courage, vaulted at once into his saddle. He then tried the pin, which he found would turn very easily; stirrups he had none; so that, with his legs dangling, he looked like a figure in some Roman triumph, woven in Flemish tapestry.

Very slowly, and much against his will, Sancho then got up behind, fixing himself as well as he could upon the crupper; and finding it very deficient in softness, he humbly begged the duke to accommodate him, if possible, with some pillow or cushion, though it were from the d.u.c.h.ess's state sofa, or from one of the page's beds, as the horse's crupper seemed rather to be of marble than of wood; but the Trifaldi interfering, a.s.sured him that Clavileno would not endure any more furniture upon him, but that, by sitting sideways, as women ride, he would find himself greatly relieved. Sancho followed her advice; and, after taking leave of the company, he suffered his eyes to be covered.

But, soon after, he raised the bandage, and looking sorrowfully at his friends, begged them, with a countenance of woe, to a.s.sist him at that perilous crisis with a few Paternosters and Ave-marias, as they hoped for the same charity from others when in the like extremity.

They were now blindfolded, and Don Quixote feeling himself firmly seated, put his hand to the peg, upon which all the duennas, and the whole company raised their voices at once, calling out, "Speed you well, valorous knight! Heaven guide thee, undaunted squire! Now you fly aloft!--See how they cut the air more swiftly than an arrow! Now they mount and soar, and astonish the world below! Steady, steady, valorous Sancho! you seem to reel and totter in your seat--beware of falling; for, should you drop from that tremendous height, your fall will be more terrible than that of Phaeton!" Sancho hearing all this, pressed closer to his master; and grasping him fast, he said, "How can they say that we are got so high, when we hear them as plain as if they were close by us?" "Take no heed of that, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for, in these extraordinary flights, to see or hear a thousand leagues is nothing--but squeeze me not quite so hard, good Sancho, or thou wilt unhorse me. In truth I see not why thou shouldst be so alarmed, for I can safely swear an easier-paced steed I never rode in all my life;--indeed, it goes as glibly as if it did not move at all! Banish fear, my friend, the business goes on swimmingly, with a gale fresh and fair behind us." "I think so too," quoth Sancho; "for I feel the wind here as if a thousand pairs of bellows were puffing at my tail." And, indeed, this was the fact, as sundry large bellows were just then pouring upon them an artificial storm: in truth, so well was this adventure managed and contrived that nothing was wanting to make it complete. Don Quixote now feeling the wind, "Without doubt," said he, "we have now reached the second region of the air, where the hail and snow are formed: thunder and lightning are engendered in the third region; and if we go on mounting at this rate, we shall soon be in the region of fire; and how to manage this peg I know not, so as to avoid mounting where we shall be burnt alive." Just at that time some flax, set on fire at the end of a long cane, was held near their faces; the warmth of which being felt, "May I be hanged," said Sancho, "if we are not already there, or very near it, for half my beard is singed off--I have a huge mind, sir, to peep out and see whereabouts we are."

"Heaven forbid such rashness!" said Don Quixote; "remember the true story of the licentiate Torralvo, who was carried by magicians, hoodwinked, riding on a cane, with his eyes shut, and in twelve hours reached Rome; where, lighting on the tower of Nona, he saw the tumult, witnessed the a.s.sault and death of the constable of Bourbon, and the next morning returned to Madrid, where he gave an account of all that he had seen. During his pa.s.sage through the air, he said that he was tempted to open his eyes, which he did, and found himself, as he thought, so near the body of the moon that he could have laid hold of it with his hand; but that he durst not look downwards to the earth lest his brain should turn. Therefore, Sancho, let us not run the risk of uncovering in such a place, but rather trust to him who has taken charge of us, as he will be responsible: perhaps we are just now soaring aloft to a certain height, in order to come souse down upon the kingdom of Candaya, like a hawk upon a heron; and, though it seems not more than half-an-hour since we left the garden, doubtless we have travelled through an amazing s.p.a.ce." "As to that I can say nothing,"

quoth Sancho Panza; "I can only say that, if Madam Magalona was content to ride upon this crupper without a cushion, her flesh could not have been the tenderest in the world."

[Ill.u.s.tration: DON QUIXOTE. P. 317.]

This conversation between the two heroes was overheard by the duke and d.u.c.h.ess, and all who were in their garden, to their great diversion; and, being now disposed to finish the adventure, they applied some lighted flax to Clavileno's tail; upon which, his body being full of combustibles, he instantly blew up with a prodigious report, and threw his riders to the ground. The Trifaldi, with the whole bearded squadron of duennas, vanished, and all that remained in the garden were laid stretched on the ground as if in a trance. Don Quixote and Sancho got upon their legs in but an indifferent plight, and looking round, were amazed to find themselves in the same garden with such a number of people strewed about them on all sides; but their wonder was increased when, on a huge lance sticking in the earth they beheld a sheet of white parchment attached to it by silken strings, whereon was written, in letters of gold, the following words:

"The renowned knight Don Quixote de la Mancha has achieved the stupendous adventure of Trifaldi the Afflicted, and her companions in grief, only by attempting it. Malambruno is satisfied, his wrath is appeased, the beards of the unhappy are vanished, and Don Clavijo and Antonomasia have recovered their pristine state. When the squirely penance shall be completed, then shall the white dove, delivered from the cruel talons of the pursuing hawks, be enfolded in the arms of her beloved turtle:--such is the will of Merlin, prince of enchanters."

Don Quixote having read the prophetic decree, and perceiving at once that it referred to the disenchantment of Dulcinea, he expressed his grat.i.tude to Heaven for having, with so much ease, performed so great an exploit, whereby many venerable females had been happily rescued from disgrace. He then went to the spot where the duke and d.u.c.h.ess lay on the ground, and taking the duke by the arm, he said, "Courage, courage, my good lord; the adventure is over without damage to the bars, as you will find by that record." The duke gradually, as if awaking from a sound sleep, seemed to recover his senses, as did the d.u.c.h.ess and the rest of the party; expressing, at the same time, so much wonder and affright that what they feigned so well seemed almost reality to themselves. Though scarcely awake, the duke eagerly looked for the scroll; and having read it, with open arms embraced Don Quixote, declaring him to be the bravest of knights. Sancho looked all about for the afflicted dame, to see what kind of face she had when beardless, and whether she was now as goodly to the sight as her stately presence seemed to promise; but he was told that, when Clavileno came tumbling down in the flames through the air, the Trifaldi, with her whole train, vanished with not a beard to be seen among them--every hair was gone, root and branch!

The d.u.c.h.ess inquired of Sancho how he had fared during that long voyage? "Why, truly, madam," answered he, "I have seen wonders; for, as we were pa.s.sing through the region of fire, as my master called it, I had, you must know, a mighty mind to take a peep; and, though my master would not consent to it, I, who have an itch to know everything, and a hankering after whatever is forbidden, could not help, softly and unperceived, shoving the cloth a little aside, when through a crevice I looked down, and there I saw (Heaven bless us!) the earth so far off that it looked to me no bigger than a grain of mustard-seed, and the men that walked upon it little bigger than hazel-nuts!--only think, then, what a height we must have been!" "Take care what you say, friend," said the d.u.c.h.ess; "had it been so, you could not have seen the earth for the people upon it; a hazel-nut, good man, would have covered the whole earth." "Like enough," said Sancho; "but, for all that, I had a side-view of it, and saw it all."

"Take heed, Sancho," said the d.u.c.h.ess; "for one cannot see the whole of anything by a side-view." "I know nothing about views," replied Sancho; "I only know that your ladyship should remember that, since we flew by enchantment, by enchantment I might see the whole earth, and all the men upon it, in whatever way I looked; and, if your ladyship will not credit that, neither will you believe me when I tell you that, thrusting up the kerchief close to my eyebrows, I found myself so near the sky that it was not above a span from me, and it so fell out that we pa.s.sed close by the place where the seven she-goats are kept; and, truly, having been a goatherd in my youth, I no sooner saw them but I longed to play with them awhile; and, had I not done it, I verily think I should have died; so what does I but, without saying a word, softly slide down from Clavileno, and play with the sweet little creatures, which are like so many violets, for almost three quarters of an hour; and all the while Clavileno seemed not to move from the place, nor stir a foot." "And while honest Sancho was diverting himself with the goats," quoth the duke, "how did Signor Don Quixote amuse himself?" To which the knight answered: "As these and suchlike concerns are out of the order of nature, I do not wonder at Sancho's a.s.sertions; for my own part, I can truly say I neither looked up nor down, and saw neither heaven nor earth, nor sea nor sands. It is, nevertheless, certain that I was sensible of our pa.s.sing through the region of the air, and even touched upon that of fire; but, that we pa.s.sed beyond it, I cannot believe; for, the fiery region lying between the sphere of the moon and the uppermost region of the air, we could not reach that place where the seven goats are which Sancho speaks of without being burnt; and, since we were not burnt, either Sancho lies or Sancho dreams." "I neither lie nor dream," answered Sancho: "only ask me the marks of these same goats, and by them you may guess whether I speak the truth or not." "Tell us what they were, Sancho," quoth the d.u.c.h.ess. "Two of them," replied Sancho, "are green, two carnation, two blue, and one motley-coloured." "A new kind of goats are those," said the duke; "in our region of the earth we have none of such colours." "The reason is plain," quoth Sancho; "your highness will allow that there must be some difference between the celestial goats and those of this lower world." They did not choose to question Sancho any more concerning his journey, perceiving him to be in the humour to ramble all over the heavens, and tell them all that was pa.s.sing there, without having stirred a foot from the place where he mounted.

Thus concluded the adventure of the afflicted duenna, which furnished the duke and d.u.c.h.ess with a subject of mirth, not only at the time, but for the rest of their lives, and Sancho something to relate had he lived for ages. "Sancho," said Don Quixote (whispering him in the ear), "if thou wouldst have us credit all thou hast told us just now, I expect thee to believe what I saw in Montesinos' cave--I say no more."

CHAPTER LXXII.

_The instructions which Don Quixote gave to Sancho Panza, before he went to his government; with other well-digested matter._

The duke and d.u.c.h.ess being so well pleased with the adventure of the afflicted duenna were encouraged to proceed with other projects, seeing that there was nothing too extravagant for the credulity of the knight and the squire. The necessary orders were accordingly issued to their servants and va.s.sals with regard to their behaviour towards Sancho in his government of the promised island. The day after the flight of Clavileno, the duke bid Sancho prepare and get himself in readiness to a.s.sume his office, for his islanders were already wishing for him, as for rain in May. "To-morrow," said he, "you surely depart for your island, and this evening you shall be fitted with suitable apparel and with all things necessary for your appointment." "Clothe me as you will," said Sancho, "I shall still be Sancho Panza." "That is true," said the duke; "but the garb should always be suitable to the office and rank of the wearer: for a lawyer to be habited like a soldier, or a soldier like a priest, would be preposterous; and you, Sancho, must be clad partly like a scholar, and partly a soldier; as, in the office you will hold, arms and learning are united." "As for learning," replied Sancho, "I have not much of that, for I hardly know my A, B, C: but to be a good governor, it will be enough that I am able to make my Christ-cross; and as to arms, I shall handle such as are given me till I fall, and so G.o.d help me." "With so good an intention," quoth the duke, "Sancho cannot do wrong." At this time Don Quixote came up to them; and hearing how soon Sancho was to depart to his government, he took him by the hand, and, with the duke's leave, led him to his chamber, in order to give him some advice respecting his conduct in office; and, having entered, he shut the door, and, almost by force, made Sancho sit down by him, and, with much solemnity, addressed him in these words:

"I am thankful to Heaven, friend Sancho, that, even before fortune has crowned my hopes, prosperity has gone forth to meet thee. I, who had trusted in my own success for the reward of thy services, am still but on the road to advancement, whilst thou, prematurely and before all reasonable expectation, art come into full possession of thy wishes.

Some must bribe, importune, solicit, attend early, pray, persist, and yet do not obtain what they desire; whilst another comes, and, without knowing how, jumps at once into the preferment for which so many had sued in vain. It is truly said that 'merit does much, but fortune more.'

'The happy have their days, and those they choose; Th' unhappy have but hours, and those they lose!'

Thou, who, in respect to me, art but a very simpleton, without either early rising or late watching, without labour of body or mind, by the air alone of knight-errantry breathing on thee, findest thyself the governor of an island, as if it were a trifle, a thing of no account!"

"All this I say, friend Sancho, that thou mayest not ascribe the favour done thee to thine own merit, but give thanks, first to Heaven, which disposeth things so kindly; and in the next place, acknowledge with grat.i.tude the inherent grandeur of the profession of knight-errantry.

"Listen now to the few counsels which I shall give thee for thy conduct:

"First, my son, fear G.o.d: for, to fear him is wisdom; and being wise, thou canst not err.

"Conceal not the meanness of thy family, nor think it disgraceful to be descended from peasants; for, when it is seen that thou art not thyself ashamed, none will endeavour to make thee so; and deem it more meritorious to be a virtuous humble man than a lofty sinner. Infinite is the number of those who, born of low extraction, have risen to the highest dignities both in church and state; and of this truth I could tire thee with examples.

"If thou takest thy wife with thee (and it is not well for those who are appointed to governments to be long separated from their families), teach, instruct, and polish her from her natural rudeness; for it often happens that all the consideration a wise governor can acquire is lost by an ill-bred and foolish woman.

"If thou shouldst become a widower (an event which is possible), and thy station ent.i.tles thee to a better match, seek not one to serve thee for a hook and angling-rod; for, believe me, whatever the judge's wife receives, the husband must account for at the general judgment, and shall be made to pay fourfold for all that of which he has rendered no account during his life.

"Be not under the dominion of thine own will: it is the vice of the ignorant, who vainly presume on their own understanding.

"Let the tears of the poor find more compa.s.sion, but not more justice, from thee than the applications of the wealthy.

"Be equally solicitous to sift out the truth amidst the presents and promises of the rich, and the sighs and entreaties of the poor.

"Whenever equity may justly temper the rigour of the law, let not the whole force of it bear upon the delinquent: for it is better that a judge should lean on the side of compa.s.sion than severity.

"If perchance the scales of justice be not correctly balanced, let the error be imputable to pity, not to gold.

"If perchance the cause of thine enemy come before thee, forget thy injuries, and think only on the merits of the case.

"Let not private affection blind thee in another man's cause; for the errors thou shalt thereby commit are often without remedy, and at the expense both of thy reputation and fortune.

"When a beautiful woman comes before thee to demand justice, consider maturely the nature of her claim, without regarding either her tears or her sighs, unless thou wouldst expose thy judgment to the danger of being lost in the one, and thy integrity in the other.

"Revile not with words him whom thou hast to correct with deeds: the punishment which the unhappy wretch is doomed to suffer is sufficient, without the addition of abusive language.

"When the criminal stands before thee, recollect the frail and depraved nature of man, and, as much as thou canst, without injustice to the suffering party, shew pity and clemency; for, though the attributes of G.o.d are all equally adorable, yet his mercy is more shining and attractive in our eyes than his justice.

"If, Sancho, thou observest these precepts, thy days will be long and thy fame eternal; thy recompense full, and thy felicity unspeakable.

Thou shalt marry thy children to thy heart's content, and they and thy grandchildren shall want neither honours nor t.i.tles. Beloved by all men, thy days shall pa.s.s in peace and tranquillity; and when the inevitable period comes, death shall steal on thee in a good and venerable old age, and thy grandchildren's children, with their tender and pious hands, shall close thine eyes.

"The advice I have just given thee, Sancho, regards the good and ornament of thy mind; now listen to the directions I have to give concerning thy person and deportment."

CHAPTER LXXIII.