The damsels went at once to tell the d.u.c.h.ess what had happened, and she was pleased beyond words; and together they hit upon a new joke which would bring them fresh merriment.

Just before midnight Don Quixote came to his chamber and found there a guitar; and, having tuned it as best he could, he began to let out his rusty voice into the notes of a ballad that he himself had composed that day. While he stood there on his balcony singing, there suddenly broke out a tremendous din; and from above was let down a cord to which hundreds of bells were attached, making the most deafening sound. At the same time a bag of cats, each with a bell tied to its tail, came shooting down upon the unfortunate knight, who was frightened beyond words by the meowing and squalling and screaming of the cats and by the jingling of the bells.

Don Quixote stood paralyzed, with the guitar clutched in his hand, when suddenly it struck him that his room must have been invaded by jumping devils--for the cats had knocked the candles down on the floor, extinguishing them as they did so, and the room was now in pitch darkness. He suddenly flung his guitar away and drew his sword, charging the enchanters with all the fervor and energy that he possessed.

All the cats flew toward the balcony, from where they escaped into the garden--all except one, which Don Quixote had cornered, and was making violent stabs at, without hitting anything but the air, the wall and the floor. This little beast, fighting for its life, like one beset, jumped at the knight, put its teeth and claws into his nose, and remained there, holding on infuriated, while Don Quixote gave out the most terrible screams and howls.

When the Duke and the d.u.c.h.ess heard what was going on, they became afraid that some harm might be done the knight errant; so they ran to his chamber with all haste. The Duke rushed to the rescue of Don Quixote's nose; but in spite of the horrible pain he must have been in, the knight was brave enough to decline all aid, shouting aloud that he wished to fight the malignant enchanter alone. At last, however, the Duke could see the poor fellow suffer no longer, and he managed to separate the cat from Don Quixote's nose.

The fair Altisidora was given the task to cover the damaged parts of the knight's face with ointment, and she did this with a loving and caressing hand, although she could not resist telling him that he would not have been in this predicament if he had listened to her the night before. She jealously hoped, too, that his squire Sancho would forget all about the whippings so that Dulcinea would remain enchanted forever. But Don Quixote was insensible to anything she said; he only sighed and sighed. And then he thanked the Duke and the d.u.c.h.ess for all their kindness; and they really felt sorry in their hearts for the end the joke had taken. They bade him good-night; he stretched himself on his bed; and there he remained for five days.

CHAPTER XLVII

WHEREIN IS CONTINUED THE ACCOUNT OF HOW SANCHO PANZA CONDUCTED HIMSELF IN HIS GOVERNMENT

Having held court, Sancho was escorted to a magnificent palace, where dinner had been laid in a large and gorgeous chamber. There were numerous ceremonies that he had to pa.s.s through as he entered; but he went through them all undisturbed and with phlegmatic dignity. He was seated at the head of the table, his own guest of honor as it were, for he found he was the only one present there, excepting a number of pages who surrounded him. But then he discovered behind himself a gentleman who turned out to be a physician, and who soon aroused Sancho's ire. For every time a dish was pa.s.sed to Sancho, it had first to be pa.s.sed upon by the physician; and this dignitary seemed to have made up his mind that governors were not meant to live, for every dish was sent back to the kitchen, and Sancho found that a governor's meal consisted in starvation.

This finally enraged the new governor so that he ordered the doctor out of his sight, threatening to break a chair over his head if he did not disappear quickly enough; but just at that moment there arrived a messenger with a letter for the Governor from the Duke, and Sancho became so excited that he forgot about his physician's expulsion for the moment. The majordomo read the letter, which was addressed to the Governor of the Island of Barataria. In it the Duke warned Sancho that attacks would be made upon the island some night in the near future by enemies of the Duke, and also, the Duke said, he had learned that four men had entered the town in disguise, and that they would make an attempt upon the Governor's life. He therefore cautioned Sancho to eat nothing that was offered to him.

At once Sancho decided that the worst conspirator against his life was the physician, who wanted to kill him by the slow death of hunger. He said he thought it best to have him thrust into a dungeon. And then he asked for a piece of bread and four pounds of grapes, feeling sure that no poison would be in them, announcing at the same time as his maxim that if he were going to be able to combat enemies he would have to be well fed.

He then turned to the messenger and bade him say to the Duke that his wishes would be obeyed; at the same time he sent a request to the d.u.c.h.ess that she should not forget to have the letter he had written to his Teresa Panza delivered, together with the bundle, by a messenger. Last but not least, he asked to be remembered to his beloved master Don Quixote by a kiss of the hand.

CHAPTERS XLVIII-XLIX

OF WHAT HAPPENED TO SANCHO IN MAKING THE ROUND OF HIS ISLAND

At last the physician felt it to his advantage to consent to prescribe a good supper for the Governor that evening. The day had been taken up with all sorts of applicants, who, it seemed to Sancho, would always arrive at the wrong time, either when he was about to eat or wanted to sleep.

The supper hour, which Sancho had been longing for all that day arrived at last, and he was delighted with the beef, salad, onions, and calves' feet that were put before him. He told the doctor that for the future he ought never to trouble himself about giving him dainty dishes and choice food to eat, for it would only unhinge his stomach.

Then to the head-carver he said: "What you had best do is to serve me with what they call _ollas podridas_--and the rottener they are the better they smell!" The others he addressed proverbially thus: "But let n.o.body play pranks on me, for either we are or we are not. Let us live and eat in peace and good fellowship, for when G.o.d sends the dawn, he sends it for all. I mean to govern this island without giving up a right or taking a bribe. Let every one keep his eye open, and look out for the arrow; for I can tell them 'the devil is in Cantillana,' and if they drive me to it they shall see something that will astonish them. Nay, make yourself honey and the flies will eat you."

In reply to this the head-carver took it upon himself to speak for the rest of the inhabitants on the island, a.s.suring Sancho that every one was greatly pleased with his mild government, and that he already stood high in their affections.

This brought forth a declaration from Sancho that if the people were not pleased with his government, they would be fools; and then he went on to state that he intended to see to it himself that the island was purged of everything unclean and of all idlers and vagabonds. The latter he compared to the drones in a hive, that eat up the honey the industrious bees make. Furthermore, he emphasized that he would encourage and reward the virtuous, and protect the church and its ministers.

The majordomo was genuinely filled with admiration for all the excellent ideas and remarks of the new governor, particularly when he considered that he was a man without either education or culture; and he could not help admitting to himself that even a joke could sometimes become a reality, and that those who had played a joke on some one might live to find themselves the victims of the very same joke.

That night the Governor as usual made his rounds, accompanied by the majordomo and his whole staff, including the chronicler, who was to record the deeds of Governor Don Sancho Panza; and before the night was over he had given fresh proof of his wisdom, for he settled a quarrel between two gamblers and decided to break up gambling on his island. He kept a youth out of jail. And he restored a young girl, who wanted to see the world as a boy, to her father.

CHAPTER L

WHEREIN IS SET FORTH HOW GOVERNOR SANCHO PANZA'S WIFE RECEIVED A MESSAGE AND A GIFT FROM THE d.u.c.h.eSS; AND ALSO WHAT BEFELL THE PAGE WHO CARRIED THE LETTER TO TERESA PANZA

The d.u.c.h.ess did not forget her promise, and she sent the page who had played the part of Dulcinea when the Devil entered a plea for her disenchantment, with Governor Sancho's letter and bundle to his wife.

At the same time the d.u.c.h.ess entrusted him with a string of coral beads as a gift from herself to Teresa Panza, with which gift went a letter as well.

When the page reached the village of La Mancha he saw, on entering it, some women washing clothes in a brook; and he found that one of them was no other than the Governor's young daughter. She eagerly ran to the good-looking young man, and, breathless with excitement at the thought of his having news from her father, she skipped along in front of him until they had reached their little house.

Teresa Panza was spinning, and she came out in a gray petticoat, vigorous, sunburnt and healthy, and wanted to know what all the excitement was about. The page quickly jumped from his horse, thrust himself on his knees before her, and exclaimed to the bewildered woman: "Let me kiss your hand, Senora Dona Panza, as the lawful and only wife of Senor Don Sancho Panza, rightful governor of the island of Barataria."

But by this time the poor woman had got over her first surprise, and she bade him rise, saying that he should not do things like that, and that she was only a poor country woman, and the wife of a squire errant, not a governor. However, when the page had given her the letters and the gifts, her doubts were crushed, and she decided that Sancho's master must have given her husband the government he had promised him, the one that Sancho had been talking about all the time.

And then she asked the page to read the letters to her, since she herself had not learned that art, although she could spin, she said.

When the page had finished reading the d.u.c.h.ess' letter, poor Teresa Panza was overcome with grat.i.tude to the gracious lady who had made her husband, a poor illiterate b.o.o.by, governor--and a good one besides--and who had deigned to ask her, humble woman that she was, for a couple of dozen or so of acorns.

"Ah, what a good, plain, lowly lady!" she exclaimed. "May I be buried with ladies of that sort, and not with the gentlewomen we have in this town, that fancy, because they are gentlewomen, the wind must not touch them, and go to church with as much airs as if they were queens, no less, and who seem to think they are disgraced if they look at a farmer's wife! And see here how this good lady, for all she is a d.u.c.h.ess, calls me her friend, and treats me as if I were her equal!"

Then she told her Sanchica to make ready a meal, with plenty of eggs and bacon, for the lad who had brought them such good news, while she herself ran out and told the neighbors of their great luck. Soon Samson Carrasco and the curate came to the house, having heard the news, and wanted to know what madness had taken possession of Sancho's wife. But when they had read the letters and had seen the presents, they themselves were perplexed, and did not know what to make of it; and when they had met the page and he had confirmed everything that was said in the letters, they were convinced, although they were at a loss to understand how it all had come to happen.

The d.u.c.h.ess' asking for a few acorns, they could not quite comprehend, but even this was soon explained, for the page a.s.sured them that his lady, the d.u.c.h.ess, was so plain and una.s.suming that she had even been known to have borrowed a comb from a peasant-woman neighbor on one occasion; and he added that the ladies of Aragon were not nearly as stiff and arrogant as those of Castile.

Sanchica's greatest concern centered around her father's legs. She was anxious to learn how he covered them, now that he had become governor.

She was hoping that he would wear trunk-hose, for she had always had a secret longing, she said, to see her father in tights; "What a sight he must be in them!" she added.

The page replied that he had not observed her father's legs or how they were dressed; but the joking way in which he gave his answer furnished the curate and the bachelor with a fresh doubt as to the reality of the governorship and Sancho's position. Yet they could not forget the coral beads and the fine hunting-suit that the page had brought, and which pointed to some truth in the matter.

Sanchica was anxious to make the trip to her father's island at once with the messenger, who told them he had to leave that evening; and Teresa Panza wanted to know whether the curate had heard of any one in the village going to Madrid or Toledo, for she thought that she at least ought to provide herself with a hooped petticoat, now that she was the wife of a distinguished governor and no doubt destined to be made a countess.

And while mother and daughter were contemplating and worrying about their new position in life, they interspersed their sentences with so many proverbs that the curate felt obliged to remark that he thought that all the Panzas were born with a sackful of proverbs in their insides. The page told them here that the Governor uttered them most frequently and spontaneously, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the Duke and the d.u.c.h.ess; and then he reminded the Governor's lady of his hunger.

But the curate softly took him by the arm and whispered to him that poor Teresa Panza had more will to serve than she had means, and invited him to sup at his own house.

In order not to lose weight or starve, the page consented; and the curate was glad to have an opportunity to talk with him alone.

Sanchica again expressed her desire to travel with the page; and the page tried to persuade her not to come along, for, he said, the daughters of governors must travel in a coach and in style, with many attendants. The girl thought that was nonsense, however, and it was not until her mother hushed her up with her proverbial logic that she ceased arguing. Said mother Teresa Panza to her daughter: "As the time so the behavior: when it was Sancho it was Sanchica, when it is governor it is senorita." And that settled it.

The bachelor offered to write letters for Teresa Panza to her husband and the d.u.c.h.ess; but, somehow, she did not seem to trust him, for she refused his offer. Instead she induced a young acolyte to write the epistles for her, paying him with the eggs which she was to have used for the page's supper.

CHAPTER LI

OF THE PROGRESS OF SANCHO'S GOVERNMENT; AND OTHER SUCH ENTERTAINING MATTERS

The thing that troubled Sancho most was not his manifold duties nor his judgments, but his appet.i.te. It was as keen as ever, yet he got next to nothing to eat. The morning after he had made his round, they gave him only some water and a little conserve for breakfast, the doctor advising him that light food was the most nourishing for the wits, and especially to be recommended to people who were placed in responsible positions--such as governors, for instance. Thus poor Sancho was persuaded to submit to a process of starvation which was gradually making him regret, and finally curse, his ever having become governor.