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堂吉诃德|Don Quixote

Part 1 第43章|Part 1 Chapter 43

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 塞万提斯] 阅读：[44402]
《堂吉诃德》是一部幽默诙谐、滑稽可笑、充满了奇思妙想的长篇文学巨著。此书主要描写了一个有趣、可敬、可悲、喜欢自欺欺人的没落贵族堂吉诃德，他痴狂地迷恋古代骑士小说，以至于放弃家业，用破甲驽马装扮成古代骑士的样子，再雇佣农民桑乔作侍从，三次出征周游全国，去创建所谓的扶弱锄强的骑士业绩。他们在征险的生涯中闹出了许多笑话，到处碰壁受辱，堂吉诃德多次被打成重伤，有一次还被当成疯子关在笼子里遣送回乡。最后，他因征战不利郁郁寡欢而与世长辞，临终前他那一番貌似悔悟的话语让人匪夷所思又哭笑不得。
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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我是爱情的水手，

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在深深的情海里

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无望地漂游，

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碧波漫漫不见港口。

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我追寻一颗星，

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它遥挂在夜空，

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恐怕帕利努罗①

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也不曾见过

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如此美丽明亮的星斗！

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不知它引我向何方，

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我茫然随波逐流。

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貌似漫不经心，

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其实一心追求。

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无谓的羞涩，

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格外的矜持，

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我试图看到它，

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云幕却不让它露头。

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美丽明亮的星斗，

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我渴望它的垂眸。

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阴云遮蔽终不见，

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我的生命到尽头。

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①古罗马诗人维吉尔的史诗《埃涅阿斯纪》中的水手。

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骡夫唱到这儿，多罗特亚觉得如此优美的歌喉要是克拉拉没听到就太可惜了。她摇晃了克拉拉几下，把她弄醒了，对她说：

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“对不起，孩子，我把你弄醒了，不过我想这么好听的歌喉，你肯定喜欢，也许你这辈子都不会再听到了。”

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克拉拉还没有完全醒过来。起初她没听清多罗特亚对她说什么，又问了一次，于是多罗特亚再说了一遍。于是，克拉拉注意听起来。可是她刚听了两段，就奇怪地颤抖起来，仿佛突然得了四日疟。她紧紧地抱住多罗特亚，说：

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“我可爱的夫人呀，你为什么要把我叫醒呢？目前命运能给我的最大恩泽就是把我的眼睛和耳朵捂上，不让我再看到这个倒霉歌手或听到他的歌声。”

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“你说什么，孩子？人家说这个唱歌的人是个骡夫。”

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“不，他是封邑的领主。”克拉拉说，“他已经牢牢地占据了我的灵魂。只要他不愿意放弃我的灵魂，我就永远也离不开他。”

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克拉拉这番缠绵多情的话让多罗特亚感到很奇怪，觉得这些话已大大超出了她那个年龄的水平，就对克拉拉说：“你说什么呀，克拉拉，我根本不明白。你再说清楚点儿，告诉我，你说的灵魂和封邑是怎么回事。还有这个歌唱家，为什么会让你如此不安。不过你现在先别说，我不想因为你的激动情绪而失去听歌的乐趣。好像他现在唱的是新辞新调。”

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“随你便吧。”克拉拉说。

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克拉拉用手捂住了耳朵，不愿意听那个人唱歌。这也使多罗特亚颇感不解。多罗特亚仔细听着，只听那人继续唱道：

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我甜蜜的希望，

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不畏艰难，披荆斩棘，

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沿着既定的道路，

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坚忍前往，

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不要泄气，即使步步

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接近你的死亡。

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懒惰匹夫，得不到

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辉煌的胜利，胜利无望。

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不与命运抗争，

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甘于现状，

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悠然自得，

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幸福不会从天降。

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为爱情付出高昂代价，

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理所应当。

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世上任何东西

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都不如爱情芬芳。

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得来全不费功夫，

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莫如奋力争向上。

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不懈的爱情追求

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也许能实现我的梦想。

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虽然困难重重，

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我从不彷徨，

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纵然难于上青天，

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我从不怀疑我的理想。

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歌声到这儿停止了，克拉拉哭起来。这一下多罗特亚更急于知道为什么歌声那么委婉，而克拉拉却这么伤心了。多罗特亚问克拉拉刚才究竟想说什么。克拉拉怕卢辛达听见，紧紧搂着多罗特亚，把嘴贴近多罗特亚耳边，断定别人听不到之后才说：

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“夫人，这个唱歌的人是阿拉贡王国一位贵族的儿子，他家就在京城我父亲家对面。尽管我父亲冬天拉上窗帘，夏天放下百叶窗，可不知怎么回事，这个仍在上学的小伙子还是在教堂或是别的地方看见了我，后来竟爱上了我。他从他家的窗户那儿向我打手势，流眼泪，表示爱上了我。我相信了，虽然我并不知道他到底爱我什么。

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“他用一只手抱住另一只手，向我打手势，表示他想和我结婚。如果这样，我当然很高兴，可我只身一人，没有母亲，我不知道该向谁说。所以，我所做的只是趁我父亲不在家而他在家的时候，把窗帘或百叶窗抬起一点儿，让他能看见我的全身。这就让他高兴得不得了，像疯了似的。

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“我父亲启程的时间到了。他知道我们要走了。不是我告诉他的，我和他根本就没说过话。他情绪很不好，我知道，他准是很难过。我们出发那天，我没能去看他，向他告别，连用眼睛向他告别都没能做到。不过我们上路两天，走进一个离这儿有一天路程的客店时，我看见他站在客店门口。他打扮成骡夫的样子。他打扮得太像了，要不是他的相貌已经牢牢刻在我心里，我恐怕根本认不出他来。我认出了他，心里又惊讶又高兴。他避开我父亲偷偷地看我。他在路上从我们面前走过或者在我们住的客店里碰见我，总是躲着我父亲。可我知道他是谁，觉得他是因为爱我，才如此艰苦地步行跟着我，所以很难过。他走到哪儿，我的眼睛也跟到哪儿。我不知道他为什么要这样，也不知道他是如何瞒着他的父亲跑出来的。他父亲特别喜欢他，他是他父亲唯一的继承人，而且他也当之无愧，你如果见到他就知道了。我还可以告诉你，他唱的那些歌全是他自己编的。我听人说，他很有学问，又擅作诗。不过，我每次看到他或听到他唱歌的时候，就浑身发抖，怕得要死，唯恐我父亲认出他来，知道了我们的心思。我一直没和他说过话。尽管如此，我爱他爱得已经离不开他了。我的夫人，这就是我对你说他是个歌手的原因。你很喜欢他的歌喉，仅从这点你就可以看出他不是你说的什么骡夫，而是我对你说的灵魂和封邑的主人。”

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“别再说了，克拉拉，”多罗特亚这时候说，还频频吻着她，“别再说了。你等着吧，那天一定会到来。我祈求上帝让你们的事情有个美好的开端，也有个圆满的结局。”

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“哎，夫人呀，”克拉拉说，“还能指望什么结局呢？他的父亲有钱又有势，会觉得我给他家做佣人都不配，更别提做什么妻子了。而且，让我背着我父亲结婚，我无论如何也不会答应。我只希望这个小伙子回家去，不要再理我。也许看不到他，再加上我们走过的遥远的距离，可以减轻我现在这种痛苦。不过也可以告诉你，我觉得这种办法不会对我起很大作用。我不知道究竟是什么魔鬼在捣乱，我怎么会爱上了他。我们还这么年轻，我估计我们两人的年龄一样大。我现在还不满十六岁。父亲说，到圣米格尔日那天，我就满十六岁了。”

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多罗特亚听到克拉拉这番孩子气十足的话，不由得笑了。

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她对克拉拉说：

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“咱们睡吧，孩子，时间不多了。等天亮了，咱们再想办法，也许事情还有希望。”

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说完她们就躺下了。客店里一片岑寂，只有客店主妇的女儿和丑女仆还没睡着。她们知道唐吉诃德正在客店外面出洋相，全身披挂地骑着马放哨，就决定和他开个玩笑，至少去听听他说了什么胡话。

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整个客店没有一扇可以看到外面的窗户，只有一个存放稻草的房子里有两个用来向外扔稻草的窟窿。两个人就趴在这两个窟窿那儿，向外看，只见唐吉诃德正骑在马上，手持长矛，不时深深地发出几声痛苦的叹息，仿佛痛苦得肠断魂消。一会儿，她们又听到唐吉诃德柔情似水地说道：

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“噢，我的夫人呀，国色之天香，智慧之精华，娴雅之典范，贞洁之集成，总之一句话，世界上所有有益、有德、有趣事物之思想，托博索的杜尔西内亚哟，你现在正在做什么？你是否想起了这位已经被你俘虏的骑士？他涉危履险，只是为了向你效忠，博取你的欢心！噢，三张脸的明月①啊，请你告诉我她的情况吧！也许你现在正以嫉妒的目光注视着她。她大概正沿着她的豪华宫殿的长廊漫步，或者在平台上凭栏远眺，以她正直伟大的胸怀思考着如何安抚这颗为她而痛苦不堪的心灵，思考着如何给我的痛苦以欢乐，给我的不安以宽慰，给我的悲痛欲绝以欣喜若狂，给我的忠心耿耿以报答。而太阳啊，你大概已经骑上你的马，迎着早晨出来看望我的夫人了。你看到她时，请代我向她问好。不过你注意点儿，看望她并向她问好时千万不要吻她的脸，比起你从前在特萨利平原或者佩纽斯河边，我忘了你到底是在什么地方了，挥汗如雨，妒火焚心，追赶那个忘恩负义的狠心女人②时的心情，我只能是有过之而无不及。”

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①唐吉诃德此处指月亮的三个月相，即望月、亏月和盈月。

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①此处指希腊神话中的达佛涅。特萨利的河神佩纽斯之女达佛涅被阿波罗追求，后求助于神，变为月桂树。

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唐吉诃德情意缠绵地刚说到这儿，店主妇的女儿就向他发出了几声“咝咝”，对他说：

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“大人，劳驾请过来一下。”

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唐吉诃德顺声转过头去。借着当晚皎洁的月光，他发现有人从那个窟窿里叫他。在唐吉诃德看来，那窟窿是一扇窗户，而且还有金窗栏。他把客店当成富丽堂皇的城堡，所以有金窗栏自然也是情理之中的事情。然后他又像以前一样，疯疯癫癫地想到，城堡长官的漂亮女儿已经坠入爱河，又来向他传情。不过，为了表示他并不是个没有礼貌、不识好歹的人，就掉转罗西南多的缰绳，来到窟窿前。他发现是两个姑娘，便对她们说：

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“非常遗憾，美丽的姑娘，你们把你们的情思投注到了一个根本不可能与你们相爱的人身上，凭你们的身份和娴静，本来你们完全应该得到爱情。你们不要怪罪这位可怜的游侠骑士。他对一位夫人一见钟情，而且情深意笃，不可能再移情于别人了。请原谅，好姑娘，赶紧回房间去吧，不要再表示什么情意了，以免让我显得不识好歹。如果你们除了袒露爱情，还有其他事情有求于我，请尽管说。我向你们那位不在此地的温柔情敌发誓，我一定会毫无保留地满足你们，哪怕你们要的是墨杜萨①那一根根都是蛇的头发或者一瓶太阳光。”

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①希腊神话的三女怪之一。女怪头上长的不是头发，而是毒蛇，生有翅膀、利爪和巨齿。

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“这些我的女主人都不需要，骑士大人。”丑女仆这时说。

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“那么你的女主人需要什么呢，聪明的女仆？”唐吉诃德问。

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“只需要您一只美丽的手，”丑女仆说，“用它来安抚这个窟窿给她造成的激情。她的名誉已经因此受到了很大影响，如果她的父亲察觉了，至少要割下她的一只耳朵。”

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“我倒要看看呢，”唐吉诃德说，“如果他不想做世界上下场最惨的父亲的话，就老实点儿，不要用他的手触动他的坠入情网的女儿的任何一个娇嫩的部位。”

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丑女仆觉得唐吉诃德肯定会答应她的请求，把手伸过来。她又想了一下，就离开那个窟窿，来到马厩，拿起桑乔那头驴的缰绳，赶紧跑了回来。此时唐吉诃德已经站在罗西南多的鞍子上，把手伸进了窗栏。他想象那位伤心的姑娘就在窗户里，便对她说：

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“姑娘，拉住这只手吧。应该说，这是一只消灭世间万恶的手。拉住这只手吧，还没有任何女人碰过这只手，包括那个已经占据了我的身心的女人。我把手伸给你不是为了让你吻它，而是让你看看那上面密布的青筋、结实的肌肉和粗壮的血管。你由此就可以看出，掌握着这只手的胳膊该有多大的力量。”

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“我们现在就看看。”丑女仆说。她在缰绳上打了一个活结，套在唐吉诃德的手腕上，然后又离开那个窟窿，把缰绳紧紧拴到稻草房的门闩上。

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唐吉诃德感到手腕上有股绳子勒的疼痛，说道：

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“我觉得你不是在爱抚我的手，而是在折磨它。你不要这样对待它。我不爱你并不是它的错，而且你也不应该在这么小的地方发泄你的全部仇恨。痴情的人不该记仇。”

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不过，唐吉诃德这些话已经没人听见了。丑女仆把绳子拴好后和客店主妇的女儿一起捧腹大笑，然后立刻离开了。唐吉诃德被拴在那里，自己根本无法解开。

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唐吉诃德就这样站在马鞍上，胳膊伸在窟窿里，手腕被拴在门闩上，胆战心惊而又小心翼翼地怕罗西南多挪动，那样他就会悬空吊在一只胳膊上了。所以，他一动也不敢动。不过，罗西南多倒是很有耐心，很安静，它可以永远站在那儿，寸步不移。唐吉诃德看到自己被拴在那儿，两个姑娘已经走了，就想象这回又像上次在这座城堡里被会魔法的摩尔脚夫痛打了一顿那样，被魔法治住了。他暗暗责备自己欠考虑，第一次在这座城堡里遭遇不幸，就不该再冒冒失失地第二次进来。游侠骑士们有条规矩，如果第一次经历失败，就证明这不是他们的事，而是别人的事，不该再进行第二次尝试了。他拽了拽胳膊，看能不能把胳膊抽出来，可是胳膊被结结实实地拴在那儿，尝试了几次都没有成功。不过他也没敢使劲拽，怕罗西南多挪动。他想坐到鞍子上，可是又坐不下来，除非他把手砍了，于是只好在那儿站着。

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此时此地，唐吉诃德很想得到阿马迪斯的宝剑，他的宝剑可以抵御各种魔法；他暗暗诅咒自己的厄运；他不无夸大地估计了自己被魔法制服会使世界遭受的损失，他真心相信自己有那么大的作用；他又想起了心爱的托博索的杜尔西内亚；他呼唤他的侍从桑乔，可桑乔此时正躺在驴的驮鞍上鼾声大作，连生养自己的母亲都忘了；他呼唤大智若愚的利甘德奥和阿尔基费来帮助他；他祈求他的好友乌甘达来支援他。他就这样惶惑绝望地像头公牛似的吼叫，一直待到天明，不过他并没有指望他的痛苦到天明就可以摆脱，他觉得他已经被魔法永远地定身在那儿了。他相信这点是因为他看到罗西南多只能在那儿微微地动一动。他相信他和他的马只能在那儿不吃不喝也不睡，星移斗转，直到另一个会魔法的圣人为他解除魔法。

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不料他估计错了。天刚蒙蒙亮，就有四个骑马的人来到客店门前。四个人穿戴得体，仪容整洁，鞍架上还挂着猎枪。客店的门还关着，四个人用力打门。唐吉诃德看见了，此时他仍然没有忘记自己哨兵的职责，便声调高傲地说道：“骑士或侍从们，不管你们是什么人吧，都没有理由叫门。现在这个时辰，明摆着里面的人都在睡觉，而且不到阳光洒满大地的时候，城堡没有开门的习惯。你们靠边点儿，等到天亮再说到底该不该给你们开门。”

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“什么鬼城堡，”其中一人说，“还有那么多规矩？你如果是店主，就叫他们开门。我们只是路过，只想在这儿给我们的牲口添些草料，然后继续赶路。我们还有急事。”

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“骑士们，你们看我的样子像店主吗？”唐吉诃德问。

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“我们不管你像什么，”另一个人说，“我只知道你把这个客店称作城堡完全是胡说八道。”

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“当然是城堡，”唐吉诃德说，“而且在全省也算得上是高级城堡，里面还住过手持权杖、头顶王冠的人呢。”

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“最好倒过来讲，”一个过客说道，“头顶权杖，手持王冠。就是里面有这样的人，也大概是个剧团吧，那种人常常拿着你说的那种王冠和权杖。这个客店这么小，又这么静悄悄的，我不相信有什么拿权杖、戴王冠的人在这儿住宿。”

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“你对世界知道得太少，”唐吉诃德说，“而且对游侠骑士常遇到的事情更是一无所知。”

93
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与那个问话者同行的几个人懒得再同唐吉诃德费口舌，又怒气冲冲地叫起门来。叫门声把店主吵醒了，而且客店里所有人都被吵醒了。店主起来问谁在叫门。这时候，那四个人骑的马中，有一匹走过来嗅罗西南多。罗西南多正搭拉着耳朵，怏怏不乐地站在那儿，一动不动地驮着它那位抻长了身子的主人。虽然它像块木头似的戳在那儿，可毕竟有血有肉，不可能总是无动于衷，于是它又去嗅那匹过来同它温存的马。尽管它并没有移动多少，可还是错开了唐吉诃德的双脚。唐吉诃德从马鞍上一下子滑了下来，若不是胳膊还吊在那儿，他就摔到地上去了。这一下可把他疼得够呛，以为手腕断了或是胳膊折了。他的脚距地面很近，用脚尖就可以触到地面，这可把他坑苦了。因为他觉得只差一点儿就可以把脚板放到地上了，所以就狠命地尽可能把身体拉长，想够着地面。他这样似够又够不着的样子，活像在受吊刑，而且，以为再伸长一点儿就可以够着地面的错觉使得他不断向下抻，结果就更加难受了。

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Ah me, Love’s mariner am I

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On Love’s deep ocean sailing;

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I know not where the haven lies,

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I dare not hope to gain it.

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One solitary distant star Is all I have to guide me, A brighter orb than those of old That Palinurus lighted.

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And vaguely drifting am I borne,

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I know not where it leads me;

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I fix my gaze on it alone,

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Of all beside it heedless.

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But over-cautious prudery,

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And coyness cold and cruel,

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When most I need it, these, like clouds,

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Its longed-for light refuse me.

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Bright star, goal of my yearning eyes As thou above me beamest, When thou shalt hide thee from my sight I’ll know that death is near me.

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The singer had got so far when it struck Dorothea that it was not fair to let Clara miss hearing such a sweet voice, so, shaking her from side to side, she woke her, saying:

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“Forgive me, child, for waking thee, but I do so that thou mayest have the pleasure of hearing the best voice thou hast ever heard, perhaps, in all thy life.”

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Clara awoke quite drowsy, and not understanding at the moment what Dorothea said, asked her what it was; she repeated what she had said, and Clara became attentive at once; but she had hardly heard two lines, as the singer continued, when a strange trembling seized her, as if she were suffering from a severe attack of quartan ague, and throwing her arms round Dorothea she said:

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“Ah, dear lady of my soul and life! why did you wake me? The greatest kindness fortune could do me now would be to close my eyes and ears so as neither to see or hear that unhappy musician.”

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“What art thou talking about, child?” said Dorothea. “Why, they say this singer is a muleteer!”

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“Nay, he is the lord of many places,” replied Clara, “and that one in my heart which he holds so firmly shall never be taken from him, unless he be willing to surrender it.”

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Dorothea was amazed at the ardent language of the girl, for it seemed to be far beyond such experience of life as her tender years gave any promise of, so she said to her:

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“You speak in such a way that I cannot understand you, Senora Clara; explain yourself more clearly, and tell me what is this you are saying about hearts and places and this musician whose voice has so moved you? But do not tell me anything now; I do not want to lose the pleasure I get from listening to the singer by giving my attention to your transports, for I perceive he is beginning to sing a new strain and a new air.”

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“Let him, in Heaven’s name,” returned Clara; and not to hear him she stopped both ears with her hands, at which Dorothea was again surprised; but turning her attention to the song she found that it ran in this fashion:

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Sweet Hope, my stay, That onward to the goal of thy intent Dost make thy way, Heedless of hindrance or impediment, Have thou no fear If at each step thou findest death is near.

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No victory,

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No joy of triumph doth the faint heart know;

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Unblest is he That a bold front to Fortune dares not show, But soul and sense In bondage yieldeth up to indolence.

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If Love his wares Do dearly sell, his right must be contest; What gold compares With that whereon his stamp he hath imprest?

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And all men know What costeth little that we rate but low.

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Love resolute Knows not the word “impossibility;” And though my suit Beset by endless obstacles I see, Yet no despair Shall hold me bound to earth while heaven is there.

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Here the voice ceased and Clara’s sobs began afresh, all which excited Dorothea’s curiosity to know what could be the cause of singing so sweet and weeping so bitter, so she again asked her what it was she was going to say before. On this Clara, afraid that Luscinda might overhear her, winding her arms tightly round Dorothea put her mouth so close to her ear that she could speak without fear of being heard by anyone else, and said:

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“This singer, dear senora, is the son of a gentleman of Aragon, lord of two villages, who lives opposite my father’s house at Madrid; and though my father had curtains to the windows of his house in winter, and lattice-work in summer, in some way — I know not how==this gentleman, who was pursuing his studies, saw me, whether in church or elsewhere, I cannot tell, and, in fact, fell in love with me, and gave me to know it from the windows of his house, with so many signs and tears that I was forced to believe him, and even to love him, without knowing what it was he wanted of me. One of the signs he used to make me was to link one hand in the other, to show me he wished to marry me; and though I should have been glad if that could be, being alone and motherless I knew not whom to open my mind to, and so I left it as it was, showing him no favour, except when my father, and his too, were from home, to raise the curtain or the lattice a little and let him see me plainly, at which he would show such delight that he seemed as if he were going mad. Meanwhile the time for my father’s departure arrived, which he became aware of, but not from me, for I had never been able to tell him of it. He fell sick, of grief I believe, and so the day we were going away I could not see him to take farewell of him, were it only with the eyes. But after we had been two days on the road, on entering the posada of a village a day’s journey from this, I saw him at the inn door in the dress of a muleteer, and so well disguised, that if I did not carry his image graven on my heart it would have been impossible for me to recognise him. But I knew him, and I was surprised, and glad; he watched me, unsuspected by my father, from whom he always hides himself when he crosses my path on the road, or in the posadas where we halt; and, as I know what he is, and reflect that for love of me he makes this journey on foot in all this hardship, I am ready to die of sorrow; and where he sets foot there I set my eyes. I know not with what object he has come; or how he could have got away from his father, who loves him beyond measure, having no other heir, and because he deserves it, as you will perceive when you see him. And moreover, I can tell you, all that he sings is out of his own head; for I have heard them say he is a great scholar and poet; and what is more, every time I see him or hear him sing I tremble all over, and am terrified lest my father should recognise him and come to know of our loves. I have never spoken a word to him in my life; and for all that I love him so that I could not live without him. This, dear senora, is all I have to tell you about the musician whose voice has delighted you so much; and from it alone you might easily perceive he is no muleteer, but a lord of hearts and towns, as I told you already.”

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“Say no more, Dona Clara,” said Dorothea at this, at the same time kissing her a thousand times over, “say no more, I tell you, but wait till day comes; when I trust in God to arrange this affair of yours so that it may have the happy ending such an innocent beginning deserves.”

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“Ah, senora,” said Dona Clara, “what end can be hoped for when his father is of such lofty position, and so wealthy, that he would think I was not fit to be even a servant to his son, much less wife? And as to marrying without the knowledge of my father, I would not do it for all the world. I would not ask anything more than that this youth should go back and leave me; perhaps with not seeing him, and the long distance we shall have to travel, the pain I suffer now may become easier; though I daresay the remedy I propose will do me very little good. I don’t know how the devil this has come about, or how this love I have for him got in; I such a young girl, and he such a mere boy; for I verily believe we are both of an age, and I am not sixteen yet; for I will be sixteen Michaelmas Day, next, my father says.”

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Dorothea could not help laughing to hear how like a child Dona Clara spoke. “Let us go to sleep now, senora,” said she, “for the little of the night that I fancy is left to us: God will soon send us daylight, and we will set all to rights, or it will go hard with me.”

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With this they fell asleep, and deep silence reigned all through the inn. The only persons not asleep were the landlady’s daughter and her servant Maritornes, who, knowing the weak point of Don Quixote’s humour, and that he was outside the inn mounting guard in armour and on horseback, resolved, the pair of them, to play some trick upon him, or at any rate to amuse themselves for a while by listening to his nonsense. As it so happened there was not a window in the whole inn that looked outwards except a hole in the wall of a straw-loft through which they used to throw out the straw. At this hole the two demi-damsels posted themselves, and observed Don Quixote on his horse, leaning on his pike and from time to time sending forth such deep and doleful sighs, that he seemed to pluck up his soul by the roots with each of them; and they could hear him, too, saying in a soft, tender, loving tone, “Oh my lady Dulcinea del Toboso, perfection of all beauty, summit and crown of discretion, treasure house of grace, depositary of virtue, and finally, ideal of all that is good, honourable, and delectable in this world! What is thy grace doing now? Art thou, perchance, mindful of thy enslaved knight who of his own free will hath exposed himself to so great perils, and all to serve thee? Give me tidings of her, oh luminary of the three faces! Perhaps at this moment, envious of hers, thou art regarding her, either as she paces to and fro some gallery of her sumptuous palaces, or leans over some balcony, meditating how, whilst preserving her purity and greatness, she may mitigate the tortures this wretched heart of mine endures for her sake, what glory should recompense my sufferings, what repose my toil, and lastly what death my life, and what reward my services? And thou, oh sun, that art now doubtless harnessing thy steeds in haste to rise betimes and come forth to see my lady; when thou seest her I entreat of thee to salute her on my behalf: but have a care, when thou shalt see her and salute her, that thou kiss not her face; for I shall be more jealous of thee than thou wert of that light-footed ingrate that made thee sweat and run so on the plains of Thessaly, or on the banks of the Peneus (for I do not exactly recollect where it was thou didst run on that occasion) in thy jealousy and love.”

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Don Quixote had got so far in his pathetic speech when the landlady’s daughter began to signal to him, saying, “Senor, come over here, please.”

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At these signals and voice Don Quixote turned his head and saw by the light of the moon, which then was in its full splendour, that some one was calling to him from the hole in the wall, which seemed to him to be a window, and what is more, with a gilt grating, as rich castles, such as he believed the inn to be, ought to have; and it immediately suggested itself to his imagination that, as on the former occasion, the fair damsel, the daughter of the lady of the castle, overcome by love for him, was once more endeavouring to win his affections; and with this idea, not to show himself discourteous, or ungrateful, he turned Rocinante’s head and approached the hole, and as he perceived the two wenches he said:

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“I pity you, beauteous lady, that you should have directed your thoughts of love to a quarter from whence it is impossible that such a return can be made to you as is due to your great merit and gentle birth, for which you must not blame this unhappy knight-errant whom love renders incapable of submission to any other than her whom, the first moment his eyes beheld her, he made absolute mistress of his soul. Forgive me, noble lady, and retire to your apartment, and do not, by any further declaration of your passion, compel me to show myself more ungrateful; and if, of the love you bear me, you should find that there is anything else in my power wherein I can gratify you, provided it be not love itself, demand it of me; for I swear to you by that sweet absent enemy of mine to grant it this instant, though it be that you require of me a lock of Medusa’s hair, which was all snakes, or even the very beams of the sun shut up in a vial.”

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“My mistress wants nothing of that sort, sir knight,” said Maritornes at this.

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Maritornes felt sure that Don Quixote would present the hand she had asked, and making up her mind what to do, she got down from the hole and went into the stable, where she took the halter of Sancho Panza’s ass, and in all haste returned to the hole, just as Don Quixote had planted himself standing on Rocinante’s saddle in order to reach the grated window where he supposed the lovelorn damsel to be; and giving her his hand, he said, “Lady, take this hand, or rather this scourge of the evil-doers of the earth; take, I say, this hand which no other hand of woman has ever touched, not even hers who has complete possession of my entire body. I present it to you, not that you may kiss it, but that you may observe the contexture of the sinews, the close network of the muscles, the breadth and capacity of the veins, whence you may infer what must be the strength of the arm that has such a hand.”

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“That we shall see presently,” said Maritornes, and making a running knot on the halter, she passed it over his wrist and coming down from the hole tied the other end very firmly to the bolt of the door of the straw-loft.

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