Don Quixote - Part I - Page 185/400

Sancho from his sack, and the goatherd from his pouch, furnished the

Ragged One with the means of appeasing his hunger, and what they gave him

he ate like a half-witted being, so hastily that he took no time between

mouthfuls, gorging rather than swallowing; and while he ate neither he

nor they who observed him uttered a word. As soon as he had done he made

signs to them to follow him, which they did, and he led them to a green

plot which lay a little farther off round the corner of a rock. On

reaching it he stretched himself upon the grass, and the others did the

same, all keeping silence, until the Ragged One, settling himself in his

place, said:

"If it is your wish, sirs, that I should disclose in a few words the

surpassing extent of my misfortunes, you must promise not to break the

thread of my sad story with any question or other interruption, for the

instant you do so the tale I tell will come to an end."

These words of the Ragged One reminded Don Quixote of the tale his squire

had told him, when he failed to keep count of the goats that had crossed

the river and the story remained unfinished; but to return to the Ragged

One, he went on to say:

"I give you this warning because I wish to pass briefly over the story of

my misfortunes, for recalling them to memory only serves to add fresh

ones, and the less you question me the sooner shall I make an end of the

recital, though I shall not omit to relate anything of importance in

order fully to satisfy your curiosity."

Don Quixote gave the promise for himself and the others, and with this

assurance he began as follows:

"My name is Cardenio, my birthplace one of the best cities of this

Andalusia, my family noble, my parents rich, my misfortune so great that

my parents must have wept and my family grieved over it without being

able by their wealth to lighten it; for the gifts of fortune can do

little to relieve reverses sent by Heaven. In that same country there was

a heaven in which love had placed all the glory I could desire; such was

the beauty of Luscinda, a damsel as noble and as rich as I, but of

happier fortunes, and of less firmness than was due to so worthy a

passion as mine. This Luscinda I loved, worshipped, and adored from my

earliest and tenderest years, and she loved me in all the innocence and

sincerity of childhood. Our parents were aware of our feelings, and were

not sorry to perceive them, for they saw clearly that as they ripened

they must lead at last to a marriage between us, a thing that seemed

almost prearranged by the equality of our families and wealth. We grew

up, and with our growth grew the love between us, so that the father of

Luscinda felt bound for propriety's sake to refuse me admission to his

house, in this perhaps imitating the parents of that Thisbe so celebrated

by the poets, and this refusal but added love to love and flame to flame;

for though they enforced silence upon our tongues they could not impose

it upon our pens, which can make known the heart's secrets to a loved one

more freely than tongues; for many a time the presence of the object of

love shakes the firmest will and strikes dumb the boldest tongue. Ah

heavens! how many letters did I write her, and how many dainty modest

replies did I receive! how many ditties and love-songs did I compose in

which my heart declared and made known its feelings, described its ardent

longings, revelled in its recollections and dallied with its desires! At

length growing impatient and feeling my heart languishing with longing to

see her, I resolved to put into execution and carry out what seemed to me

the best mode of winning my desired and merited reward, to ask her of her

father for my lawful wife, which I did. To this his answer was that he

thanked me for the disposition I showed to do honour to him and to regard

myself as honoured by the bestowal of his treasure; but that as my father

was alive it was his by right to make this demand, for if it were not in

accordance with his full will and pleasure, Luscinda was not to be taken

or given by stealth. I thanked him for his kindness, reflecting that

there was reason in what he said, and that my father would assent to it

as soon as I should tell him, and with that view I went the very same

instant to let him know what my desires were. When I entered the room

where he was I found him with an open letter in his hand, which, before I

could utter a word, he gave me, saying, 'By this letter thou wilt see,

Cardenio, the disposition the Duke Ricardo has to serve thee.' This Duke

Ricardo, as you, sirs, probably know already, is a grandee of Spain who

has his seat in the best part of this Andalusia. I took and read the

letter, which was couched in terms so flattering that even I myself felt

it would be wrong in my father not to comply with the request the duke

made in it, which was that he would send me immediately to him, as he

wished me to become the companion, not servant, of his eldest son, and

would take upon himself the charge of placing me in a position

corresponding to the esteem in which he held me. On reading the letter my

voice failed me, and still more when I heard my father say, 'Two days

hence thou wilt depart, Cardenio, in accordance with the duke's wish, and

give thanks to God who is opening a road to thee by which thou mayest

attain what I know thou dost deserve; and to these words he added others

of fatherly counsel. The time for my departure arrived; I spoke one night

to Luscinda, I told her all that had occurred, as I did also to her

father, entreating him to allow some delay, and to defer the disposal of

her hand until I should see what the Duke Ricardo sought of me: he gave

me the promise, and she confirmed it with vows and swoonings unnumbered.

Finally, I presented myself to the duke, and was received and treated by

him so kindly that very soon envy began to do its work, the old servants

growing envious of me, and regarding the duke's inclination to show me

favour as an injury to themselves. But the one to whom my arrival gave

the greatest pleasure was the duke's second son, Fernando by name, a

gallant youth, of noble, generous, and amorous disposition, who very soon

made so intimate a friend of me that it was remarked by everybody; for

though the elder was attached to me, and showed me kindness, he did not

carry his affectionate treatment to the same length as Don Fernando. It

so happened, then, that as between friends no secret remains unshared,

and as the favour I enjoyed with Don Fernando had grown into friendship,

he made all his thoughts known to me, and in particular a love affair

which troubled his mind a little. He was deeply in love with a peasant

girl, a vassal of his father's, the daughter of wealthy parents, and

herself so beautiful, modest, discreet, and virtuous, that no one who

knew her was able to decide in which of these respects she was most

highly gifted or most excelled. The attractions of the fair peasant

raised the passion of Don Fernando to such a point that, in order to gain

his object and overcome her virtuous resolutions, he determined to pledge

his word to her to become her husband, for to attempt it in any other way

was to attempt an impossibility. Bound to him as I was by friendship, I

strove by the best arguments and the most forcible examples I could think

of to restrain and dissuade him from such a course; but perceiving I

produced no effect I resolved to make the Duke Ricardo, his father,

acquainted with the matter; but Don Fernando, being sharp-witted and

shrewd, foresaw and apprehended this, perceiving that by my duty as a

good servant I was bound not to keep concealed a thing so much opposed to

the honour of my lord the duke; and so, to mislead and deceive me, he

told me he could find no better way of effacing from his mind the beauty

that so enslaved him than by absenting himself for some months, and that

he wished the absence to be effected by our going, both of us, to my

father's house under the pretence, which he would make to the duke, of

going to see and buy some fine horses that there were in my city, which

produces the best in the world. When I heard him say so, even if his

resolution had not been so good a one I should have hailed it as one of

the happiest that could be imagined, prompted by my affection, seeing

what a favourable chance and opportunity it offered me of returning to

see my Luscinda. With this thought and wish I commended his idea and

encouraged his design, advising him to put it into execution as quickly

as possible, as, in truth, absence produced its effect in spite of the

most deeply rooted feelings. But, as afterwards appeared, when he said

this to me he had already enjoyed the peasant girl under the title of

husband, and was waiting for an opportunity of making it known with

safety to himself, being in dread of what his father the duke would do

when he came to know of his folly. It happened, then, that as with young

men love is for the most part nothing more than appetite, which, as its

final object is enjoyment, comes to an end on obtaining it, and that

which seemed to be love takes to flight, as it cannot pass the limit

fixed by nature, which fixes no limit to true love--what I mean is that

after Don Fernando had enjoyed this peasant girl his passion subsided and

his eagerness cooled, and if at first he feigned a wish to absent himself

in order to cure his love, he was now in reality anxious to go to avoid

keeping his promise.