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堂吉诃德|Don Quixote

Part 2 第25章|Part 2 Chapter 23

属类: 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 塞万提斯] 阅读:[44409]
《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。
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唐吉诃德就像一只热锅上的蚂蚁,急于了解运送武器的人在路上答应讲的那些奇事。他按照店主的指点,找到了那个人,让那个人无论如何马上给他讲那些事情。那人答道:

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“我说的那些奇事得慢慢讲,不能站着说。我的好大人,请先让我给骡子喂点吃的,然后再给你讲吧。我说的那些事准会让你惊奇。”

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“那就别耽误时间了,”唐吉诃德说,“我来帮你做。”

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说着他就动起手来,筛大麦,刷马槽。那人看到他那副热心的样子,也很愿意满足他的要求。送武器人在一条石凳上坐下来,唐吉诃德也挨着他坐下了。小伙子、青年人、桑乔和店主都凑过来听。那人讲道:

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“诸位大概听说过,离这个客店大约四西里半的地方,有个市镇议员丢了一头驴。其实这是他家的一个女佣搞的鬼,说起来话就长了。议员虽然千方百计地找驴,却总也没找到。十五天过去了,丢驴的议员在广场上碰到了当地的另一位议员。那位议员对他说:‘请客吧,伙计,你的驴找着了。’‘我请客,没问题,伙计,’这个议员说,‘不过你告诉我,我的驴在哪儿呢?’‘在山上,’那个发现了驴的议员说,‘我今天早晨看见的。它身上的驮鞍和轭具都没了,看着真让人可怜。我想把它牵回来交给你,可是它已经变野了,不愿意见人。我刚走到它身边,它就跑掉了,钻进了大山深处。你要是愿意的话,咱们俩可以去找,不过你得先让我回家,把我这头驴安顿好。我马上就回来。’‘你如果能帮忙,’丢驴的议员说,‘我一定厚礼相谢。’我讲的情况就是这样,那些知道实情的人也是这么说的。于是,两个议员一起爬上山,到了那个地方找驴,可是找来找去没找到。他们又在周围的地方仔细寻找,还是没找到。于是那个发现了驴的议员对丢驴的议员说:‘听我说,伙计,我现在想到一个办法,要是照这个办法做,那头驴别说是藏在山里,就是藏在地底下,咱们也能找到它。我学驴叫学得特别好,如果你也能学驴叫,这事儿就成了。’‘你说学驴叫,伙计?’丢驴的议员问,‘天啊,要说学驴叫,我比谁都不差,就是跟驴比也不差呢。’‘那咱们就试试看,’另一位说,‘我想这样:你从山的这一侧上去,我从另一侧上去,咱们围着山走一遍。每走一段,你就学一声驴叫,我也跟着学驴叫。那头驴只要是在山里,就肯定能听见咱们叫,也会回答咱们。’丢驴的议员说:‘伙计,你的主意真不错,你真聪明。’

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“于是两人分头行事。结果两人几乎是同时学驴叫,彼此都被对方的叫声欺骗了,以为是他们要找的驴出现了,便循声赶去。两人会合后,丢驴的议员说:‘伙计,难道刚才不是我的驴在叫么?’‘不,是我在叫。’另一个议员说。‘我告诉你吧,’丢驴的议员说,‘你的叫声和驴的叫声没什么区别,我这辈子还没听过谁学得这么像呢。’‘这恭维还是你当之无愧哟,我可不敢受用呀,伙计。我向上帝发誓,世界上学驴叫学得最像的人也只顶你一半。你声音高亢,声调持久,而且抑扬顿挫,有声有色,反正一句话,我只能是望尘莫及,甘拜下风啦。’‘由此看来,’丢驴的议员说,‘我可以引以自豪了,这说明我还有点本事,有一技之长。我以前就认为我学驴叫学得不错,可是从没想到像你说的这么好。’‘我还可以说,’那个议员说道,‘有些绝技已经在这个世界上失传了,那是因为某些不懂得利用它们的人使用不当所致。’‘像咱们这种绝技,若不是现在为自己的事用着了,恐怕在别处也派不上用场。就冲这点,咱们得求上帝保佑这种绝技总能对咱们有用。’

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“说完两个人又分头行动,重新学起驴叫来,结果又是互相上当,重新会合在一起。最后,两人约定了暗号,连续叫两声便是他们自己的叫声,而不是驴的叫声。就这样,他们不时发出两声驴叫,走遍了一座大山,结果驴还是没回音。那头可怜而又倒霉的驴怎么会有回音呢,它已经在密林深处被狼吃掉了。后来,两个议员发现了驴的残骨。驴主人说:‘我原来就奇怪它怎么不回答呢。如果它没死,听见了咱们的声音肯定会叫,否则就不是驴了。不过,我听到你学驴叫学得这么像,也不枉我找驴一场,尽管我找到的是一头死驴。’‘你也不差呀,伙计,’另一个议员说,‘名师出高徒嘛!’说完两人便沙哑着嗓子垂头丧气地回到了镇子,并且向他们的朋友、邻居和熟人讲述了找驴的经过,还互相吹捧对方学驴叫顶呱呱。结果这件事被周围村镇的人知道了,并且传开了。魔鬼可没睡觉,它本来就喜欢到处挑拨是非,兴风作浪,结果邻近村镇的人一见到我们镇上的人就学驴叫,分明是以此来羞辱我们的议员学驴叫。

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“年轻人也卷了进去,而且连说带比划,乱成一团,各个村镇都是一片驴叫声,闹得我们镇上的人到哪儿都能被人一眼认出来,就像黑白一样分明。最后,这种嘲弄发展到了我们这些被嘲弄者几次带着家伙成群结伙地去同那些嘲弄我们的人打架,打得难解难分,谁都不甘示弱。我估计明天或者哪一天,我们这个驴叫镇的人会去同离我们镇两西里的一个地方的人打架,那个地方的人尤其同我们过不去。你们看,我买的这些长矛和戟就是为此做准备的。这就是我要对你们讲的奇闻。如果你们觉得这算不上什么奇闻,别的事我就不知道了。”

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送武器人刚讲完,客店门口来了一个人,他身上穿的袜子、肥腿裤和坎肩都是羊皮的。那人高声说道:

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“店主大人,有房间吗?会占卦的猴子和《梅丽森德拉脱险记》的戏班子就要到了。”

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“我的天哪,”店主说,“原来是佩德罗师傅!今儿晚上可热闹了。”

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刚才忘了说明,这位佩德罗师傅的左眼和几乎半边脸都蒙着用绿色塔夫绸制的膏药,看样子那半边脸有什么毛病。店主接着说道:

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“欢迎欢迎,佩德罗师傅。猴子和道具在哪儿呢,我怎么没看到?”

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“已经很近了,”佩德罗师傅说,“我先来一步,看有没有房间。”

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“就是阿尔瓦公爵在这儿住着,也得把房间让给佩德罗师傅呀!”店主说,“把猴子和道具运来吧。今晚店里有客人,他们要想看您的戏和猴儿表演就掏钱吧。”

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“时机不错,”佩德罗师傅说,“我一定让让价,只要保住本就行了。我现在就去催促拉猴子和道具的车赶紧来。”

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说完他转身走出了客店。

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唐吉诃德问店主那佩德罗师傅是什么人,带来的是什么猴子和道具。店主答道:

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“他是著名的木偶剧艺人,在靠近阿拉贡的曼查一带演出《著名的唐盖费罗斯解救梅丽森德拉》,已经好多天了。这是一部在这一带多年来没见过的优秀剧目,而且表演得很出色。他有一只猴子,非常聪明,别说跟猴子比,就是跟人比也不差。如果问它什么,它会认真听着,然后爬到主人的肩膀上,贴着主人的耳朵把答案告诉主人,然后佩德罗师傅再把答案告诉大家。它说的主要是过去的事情,对未来说得不多。虽然不是每次都回答得很准确,但大部分都能说对。因此,我们觉得它有魔鬼附身。猴子每回答一次问题,我是说它向主人耳语后,主人每代他回答一个问题,就收费两个雷阿尔,所以大家认为这位佩德罗师傅很有钱。他是一个风流男子,用意大利语说,是个‘好伙伴’,过着世界上最舒适的日子,说话比六个人说得多,喝酒比十二个人喝得多,这些全都靠他那张嘴、那只猴子和那个木偶剧团。”

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这时,佩德罗师傅回来了,还有一辆车,车上是道具和一只猴子。猴子个头不小,没有尾巴,屁股毛烘烘的,不过猴子的脸并不难看。唐吉诃德一看见猴子便问:

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“请告诉我,会占卦的先生,我们的命运如何?这是两个雷阿尔。”

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唐吉诃德让桑乔交给佩德罗师傅两个雷阿尔。佩德罗替猴子答道:

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“大人,这个猴子不回答关于未来的问题,它只谈过去的事情,现在的事情也能说一点儿。”

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“岂有此理!”桑乔说,“我决不会花一分钱去让别人告诉我自己过去的事情。关于我自己的事儿,有谁能比我更清楚呢?花钱请教别人我已经知道的事情,那才是犯傻呢。不过,你既然知道现在的事情,这儿是两个雷阿尔,请告诉我,猴儿精大人,我老婆特雷莎·潘萨这会儿正在干什么,她怎样消磨时间?”

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佩德罗师傅无意去接那两个雷阿尔,只是说:

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“我不能未劳先取酬。”

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说着他用右手拍自己的左肩两下,于是猴子一跃跳到了他肩上,把嘴凑到主人耳朵边,急速地搐动着牙齿,过了一会儿才跳回到地上。转瞬之间,佩德罗师傅已跪到唐吉诃德面前,抱住他的腿,说道:

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“我抱着这两条腿,就仿佛抱着赫拉克勒斯的两根支柱!已被遗忘的骑士道的伟大振兴者呀!无论如何赞扬您都当之无愧的曼查的骑士唐吉诃德呀!您是呼唤昏厥者的精灵,扶持即将跌倒者的依靠,倒地者的保护人,所有不幸者的慰藉!”

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唐吉诃德不知所措,桑乔目瞪口呆,小伙子表情茫然,青年人莫名其妙,送武器人如坠雾中,店主更是不知如何是好。总之,所有听了这番话的人都惊呆了。那木偶艺人继续说道:

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“还有你,善良的桑乔!你是世界上最优秀骑士的最优秀侍从,你该知足了。你那位好老婆特雷莎现在很好,这会儿她正在梳理一磅亚麻。说得再具体一些,她身旁有个豁了口的酒坛子,里面装着很多葡萄酒。她正边干边喝呢。”

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“我觉得这很好,”桑乔说,“她是个十分幸运的人。她不吃醋的时候,就是拿女巨人安丹多纳来换她,我也不干。据我主人说,那是个完美而又有用的巨人。我的特雷莎就是那种宁可亏待了孩子也不能委屈自己的人。”

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“我告诉你们,”唐吉诃德说,“一个人看书多就见得多,也就见多识广,要不是我这会儿亲眼所见,我怎么会相信世界上有会占卦的猴子呢!我就是这个猴子所说的曼查的唐吉诃德,尽管它的颂扬有些言过其实。不过,无论我到底怎么样,得感谢老天,使我成了个心地善良的人,总是善待所有人,没有亏负过任何人。”

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“如果我有钱,”青年人说,“我一定问问猴子,我此次远行会遇到什么情况。”

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这时,佩德罗师傅已从唐吉诃德身边站起身来。他说道:

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“我刚才已经说过,这个小畜生不回答有关未来事情的问题。如果它能回答,没钱也没关系。为了表示愿意为在场的唐吉诃德大人效劳,我愿意放弃我所有的利益。既然我应该而且愿意这样做,我要去布置戏台了,好为客店里的所有人免费助兴。”

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店主一听,喜出望外,连忙去指点搭戏台的地方。戏台一会儿便搭好了。

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唐吉诃德对猴子占卦并不十分满意,觉得无论是说过去还是道未来,让一个猴子出面总归不太合适。所以,在佩德罗师傅忙着搭戏台的时候,他同桑乔一起来到马厩一角谁也听不到他们说话的地方,对桑乔说:

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“你听我说,桑乔,我仔细考虑了,这个猴子的本领很奇怪。我觉得不管是明文还是默契,它的主人佩德罗师傅肯定和魔鬼订过契约。”

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“如果是给魔鬼搭的台子,那肯定很脏。”桑乔说,“不过,佩德罗师傅给魔鬼搭台子,对他又有什么好处呢?”

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“你没听懂我的意思,桑乔,我是说他同魔鬼之间肯定有某种配合。他通过猴子施展魔鬼的本领,以此谋生,等发财以后,就把自己的灵魂交给魔鬼,而这正是与全人类为敌的魔鬼梦寐以求的。我相信这点是由于这只猴子只回答有关过去和现在的事情,魔鬼的智慧不也是仅限于此吗?对于未来的事情,它只能靠猜测,而且不是每次都能猜出来。只有上帝知道所有时候的事情;对于上帝来说,无所谓过去和未来,一切都是现在。

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“事实既然如此,那个猴子显然是在以魔鬼的口吻说话。让我惊奇的是,怎么没有人向宗教裁判所告发它,对它进行调查,彻底搞清究竟是谁在占卦呢?无论是这只猴子还是它的主人,肯定都不会那种占星术。现在西班牙非常流行那种东西,无论是娘儿们还是小孩,或者修鞋的老头儿,都可以拿几张纸牌往地上一摊,靠他们的无知和谎言来断送科学的神圣真理。我听说有一位夫人请教算命先生,她的小母狗如果怀胎下崽,能够生几只什么颜色的小狗。那位算命先生掐算了一番之后说,如果她的小母狗怀胎生崽,能一窝生出三只小狗,一只是青色的,一只是肉色的,还有一只是杂色的,不过,必须是在白天或夜间的十一点和十二点之间交配,而且必须是在星期一或星期六。结果两天之后,那只母狗吃得太多撑死了。那个算命的也就同所有或者大多数算命先生一样,在当地被称为了‘一口清’。”

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“不过,我倒是希望您让佩德罗师傅问问那只猴子,您在蒙特西诺斯洞里遇到的那些事情是不是真的。”桑乔说,“真对不起,我总觉得那全是骗人的东西,至少是虚幻的东西。”

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“那倒有可能,”唐吉诃德说,“我就照你说的去办;不过,我总还是有点儿顾虑。”

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恰巧佩德罗师傅来找唐吉诃德,说戏台已经准备就绪,请唐吉诃德看戏去,那出戏值得一看。唐吉诃德把自己的想法告诉了佩德罗师傅,请他马上就问问他的猴子,蒙特西诺斯洞里那些事究竟是虚幻还是事实。唐吉诃德自己觉得是两者兼而有之。佩德罗师傅一句话也没说,又把猴子带来了,当着唐吉诃德的面问猴子:

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“猴儿先生,这位骑士想知道,他在一个名叫蒙特西诺斯的洞里看到的事情究竟是真的还是假的。”

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他又像以往一样做了个手势,猴子跳到他的左肩上,那样子仿佛同他耳语了一番,然后佩德罗师傅说道:

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“猴子说,您在那个洞里看到或遇到的事情部分是假部分是真。您问的事情,它现在只知道这些。如果您还有什么情况想了解,得等到星期五再问,它都可以回答您。现在,它神力已耗尽,就像刚才说的,得到星期五才能恢复呢。”

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“我不是说过了吗,我的大人?”桑乔说,“我从来都不信您说的洞里那些事是真的,连一半都不信。”

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“事实会说明一切,桑乔,”唐吉诃德说,“时间可以揭示一切事物,即使是埋在地下的事物,也终究会搞个水落石出。就说到这儿吧,现在咱们去看看好心的佩德罗师傅的戏吧,我想它肯定有点儿新鲜之处。”

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“怎么是有点儿呢?”佩德罗师傅说,“我的戏里新鲜之处数以万计呢。我可以告诉您,唐吉诃德大人,这是世界上最值得看的东西,耳听为虚,眼见为实,咱们赶紧走吧,否则就晚了。我还有很多事要做要说要表演呢。”

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唐吉诃德和桑乔跟着佩德罗师傅过去,来到那个露天戏台旁。戏台上到处都点满了蜡烛,显得一片辉煌又引人注目。他们一到,佩德罗师傅就钻进戏台里,他要在那儿操纵小木偶。戏台外面站着一个小伙计,佩德罗师傅让他讲解戏的内容。他手里拿着一根小棍,按照出场顺序一一指点着剧中人物。

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客店里的所有人都来了,有的人还得站着。唐吉诃德、桑乔、青年人和那个小伙子坐在最好的位置看戏。讲解员开始讲解。其所说所演请看下章。

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It was about four in the afternoon when the sun, veiled in clouds, with subdued light and tempered beams, enabled Don Quixote to relate, without heat or inconvenience, what he had seen in the cave of Montesinos to his two illustrious hearers, and he began as follows:

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“A matter of some twelve or fourteen times a man’s height down in this pit, on the right-hand side, there is a recess or space, roomy enough to contain a large cart with its mules. A little light reaches it through some chinks or crevices, communicating with it and open to the surface of the earth. This recess or space I perceived when I was already growing weary and disgusted at finding myself hanging suspended by the rope, travelling downwards into that dark region without any certainty or knowledge of where I was going, so I resolved to enter it and rest myself for a while. I called out, telling you not to let out more rope until I bade you, but you cannot have heard me. I then gathered in the rope you were sending me, and making a coil or pile of it I seated myself upon it, ruminating and considering what I was to do to lower myself to the bottom, having no one to hold me up; and as I was thus deep in thought and perplexity, suddenly and without provocation a profound sleep fell upon me, and when I least expected it, I know not how, I awoke and found myself in the midst of the most beautiful, delightful meadow that nature could produce or the most lively human imagination conceive. I opened my eyes, I rubbed them, and found I was not asleep but thoroughly awake. Nevertheless, I felt my head and breast to satisfy myself whether it was I myself who was there or some empty delusive phantom; but touch, feeling, the collected thoughts that passed through my mind, all convinced me that I was the same then and there that I am this moment. Next there presented itself to my sight a stately royal palace or castle, with walls that seemed built of clear transparent crystal; and through two great doors that opened wide therein, I saw coming forth and advancing towards me a venerable old man, clad in a long gown of mulberry-coloured serge that trailed upon the ground. On his shoulders and breast he had a green satin collegiate hood, and covering his head a black Milanese bonnet, and his snow-white beard fell below his girdle. He carried no arms whatever, nothing but a rosary of beads bigger than fair-sized filberts, each tenth bead being like a moderate ostrich egg; his bearing, his gait, his dignity and imposing presence held me spellbound and wondering. He approached me, and the first thing he did was to embrace me closely, and then he said to me, ‘For a long time now, O valiant knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, we who are here enchanted in these solitudes have been hoping to see thee, that thou mayest make known to the world what is shut up and concealed in this deep cave, called the cave of Montesinos, which thou hast entered, an achievement reserved for thy invincible heart and stupendous courage alone to attempt. Come with me, illustrious sir, and I will show thee the marvels hidden within this transparent castle, whereof I am the alcaide and perpetual warden; for I am Montesinos himself, from whom the cave takes its name.’

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“The instant he told me he was Montesinos, I asked him if the story they told in the world above here was true, that he had taken out the heart of his great friend Durandarte from his breast with a little dagger, and carried it to the lady Belerma, as his friend when at the point of death had commanded him. He said in reply that they spoke the truth in every respect except as to the dagger, for it was not a dagger, nor little, but a burnished poniard sharper than an awl.”

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“That poniard must have been made by Ramon de Hoces the Sevillian,” said Sancho.

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“I do not know,” said Don Quixote; “it could not have been by that poniard maker, however, because Ramon de Hoces was a man of yesterday, and the affair of Roncesvalles, where this mishap occurred, was long ago; but the question is of no great importance, nor does it affect or make any alteration in the truth or substance of the story.”

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“That is true,” said the cousin; “continue, Senor Don Quixote, for I am listening to you with the greatest pleasure in the world.”

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“And with no less do I tell the tale,” said Don Quixote; “and so, to proceed — the venerable Montesinos led me into the palace of crystal, where, in a lower chamber, strangely cool and entirely of alabaster, was an elaborately wrought marble tomb, upon which I beheld, stretched at full length, a knight, not of bronze, or marble, or jasper, as are seen on other tombs, but of actual flesh and bone. His right hand (which seemed to me somewhat hairy and sinewy, a sign of great strength in its owner) lay on the side of his heart; but before I could put any question to Montesinos, he, seeing me gazing at the tomb in amazement, said to me, ‘This is my friend Durandarte, flower and mirror of the true lovers and valiant knights of his time. He is held enchanted here, as I myself and many others are, by that French enchanter Merlin, who, they say, was the devil’s son; but my belief is, not that he was the devil’s son, but that he knew, as the saying is, a point more than the devil. How or why he enchanted us, no one knows, but time will tell, and I suspect that time is not far off. What I marvel at is, that I know it to be as sure as that it is now day, that Durandarte ended his life in my arms, and that, after his death, I took out his heart with my own hands; and indeed it must have weighed more than two pounds, for, according to naturalists, he who has a large heart is more largely endowed with valour than he who has a small one. Then, as this is the case, and as the knight did really die, how comes it that he now moans and sighs from time to time, as if he were still alive?’

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“As he said this, the wretched Durandarte cried out in a loud voice:

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O cousin Montesinos!

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‘T was my last request of thee,

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When my soul hath left the body,

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And that lying dead I be, With thy poniard or thy dagger Cut the heart from out my breast, And bear it to Belerma.

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This was my last request.

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On hearing which, the venerable Montesinos fell on his knees before the unhappy knight, and with tearful eyes exclaimed, ‘Long since, Senor Durandarte, my beloved cousin, long since have I done what you bade me on that sad day when I lost you; I took out your heart as well as I could, not leaving an atom of it in your breast, I wiped it with a lace handkerchief, and I took the road to France with it, having first laid you in the bosom of the earth with tears enough to wash and cleanse my hands of the blood that covered them after wandering among your bowels; and more by token, O cousin of my soul, at the first village I came to after leaving Roncesvalles, I sprinkled a little salt upon your heart to keep it sweet, and bring it, if not fresh, at least pickled, into the presence of the lady Belerma, whom, together with you, myself, Guadiana your squire, the duenna Ruidera and her seven daughters and two nieces, and many more of your friends and acquaintances, the sage Merlin has been keeping enchanted here these many years; and although more than five hundred have gone by, not one of us has died; Ruidera and her daughters and nieces alone are missing, and these, because of the tears they shed, Merlin, out of the compassion he seems to have felt for them, changed into so many lakes, which to this day in the world of the living, and in the province of La Mancha, are called the Lakes of Ruidera. The seven daughters belong to the kings of Spain and the two nieces to the knights of a very holy order called the Order of St. John. Guadiana your squire, likewise bewailing your fate, was changed into a river of his own name, but when he came to the surface and beheld the sun of another heaven, so great was his grief at finding he was leaving you, that he plunged into the bowels of the earth; however, as he cannot help following his natural course, he from time to time comes forth and shows himself to the sun and the world. The lakes aforesaid send him their waters, and with these, and others that come to him, he makes a grand and imposing entrance into Portugal; but for all that, go where he may, he shows his melancholy and sadness, and takes no pride in breeding dainty choice fish, only coarse and tasteless sorts, very different from those of the golden Tagus. All this that I tell you now, O cousin mine, I have told you many times before, and as you make no answer, I fear that either you believe me not, or do not hear me, whereat I feel God knows what grief. I have now news to give you, which, if it serves not to alleviate your sufferings, will not in any wise increase them. Know that you have here before you (open your eyes and you will see) that great knight of whom the sage Merlin has prophesied such great things; that Don Quixote of La Mancha I mean, who has again, and to better purpose than in past times, revived in these days knight-errantry, long since forgotten, and by whose intervention and aid it may be we shall be disenchanted; for great deeds are reserved for great men.’

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“‘And if that may not be,’ said the wretched Durandarte in a low and feeble voice, ‘if that may not be, then, my cousin, I say “patience and shuffle;"’ and turning over on his side, he relapsed into his former silence without uttering another word.

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“And now there was heard a great outcry and lamentation, accompanied by deep sighs and bitter sobs. I looked round, and through the crystal wall I saw passing through another chamber a procession of two lines of fair damsels all clad in mourning, and with white turbans of Turkish fashion on their heads. Behind, in the rear of these, there came a lady, for so from her dignity she seemed to be, also clad in black, with a white veil so long and ample that it swept the ground. Her turban was twice as large as the largest of any of the others; her eyebrows met, her nose was rather flat, her mouth was large but with ruddy lips, and her teeth, of which at times she allowed a glimpse, were seen to be sparse and ill-set, though as white as peeled almonds. She carried in her hands a fine cloth, and in it, as well as I could make out, a heart that had been mummied, so parched and dried was it. Montesinos told me that all those forming the procession were the attendants of Durandarte and Belerma, who were enchanted there with their master and mistress, and that the last, she who carried the heart in the cloth, was the lady Belerma, who, with her damsels, four days in the week went in procession singing, or rather weeping, dirges over the body and miserable heart of his cousin; and that if she appeared to me somewhat ill-favoured or not so beautiful as fame reported her, it was because of the bad nights and worse days that she passed in that enchantment, as I could see by the great dark circles round her eyes, and her sickly complexion; ‘her sallowness, and the rings round her eyes,’ said he, ‘are not caused by the periodical ailment usual with women, for it is many months and even years since she has had any, but by the grief her own heart suffers because of that which she holds in her hand perpetually, and which recalls and brings back to her memory the sad fate of her lost lover; were it not for this, hardly would the great Dulcinea del Toboso, so celebrated in all these parts, and even in the world, come up to her for beauty, grace, and gaiety.’

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“‘Hold hard!’ said I at this, ‘tell your story as you ought, Senor Don Montesinos, for you know very well that all comparisons are odious, and there is no occasion to compare one person with another; the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso is what she is, and the lady Dona Belerma is what she is and has been, and that’s enough.’ To which he made answer, ‘Forgive me, Senor Don Quixote; I own I was wrong and spoke unadvisedly in saying that the lady Dulcinea could scarcely come up to the lady Belerma; for it were enough for me to have learned, by what means I know not, that youare her knight, to make me bite my tongue out before I compared her to anything save heaven itself.’ After this apology which the great Montesinos made me, my heart recovered itself from the shock I had received in hearing my lady compared with Belerma.”

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“Still I wonder,” said Sancho, “that your worship did not get upon the old fellow and bruise every bone of him with kicks, and pluck his beard until you didn’t leave a hair in it.”

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“Nay, Sancho, my friend,” said Don Quixote, “it would not have been right in me to do that, for we are all bound to pay respect to the aged, even though they be not knights, but especially to those who are, and who are enchanted; I only know I gave him as good as he brought in the many other questions and answers we exchanged.”

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“I cannot understand, Senor Don Quixote,” remarked the cousin here, “how it is that your worship, in such a short space of time as you have been below there, could have seen so many things, and said and answered so much.”

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“How long is it since I went down?” asked Don Quixote.

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“Little better than an hour,” replied Sancho.

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“That cannot be,” returned Don Quixote, “because night overtook me while I was there, and day came, and it was night again and day again three times; so that, by my reckoning, I have been three days in those remote regions beyond our ken.”

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“My master must be right,” replied Sancho; “for as everything that has happened to him is by enchantment, maybe what seems to us an hour would seem three days and nights there.”

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“That’s it,” said Don Quixote.

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“And did your worship eat anything all that time, senor?” asked the cousin.

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“I never touched a morsel,” answered Don Quixote, “nor did I feel hunger, or think of it.”

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“And do the enchanted eat?” said the cousin.

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“They neither eat,” said Don Quixote; “nor are they subject to the greater excrements, though it is thought that their nails, beards, and hair grow.”

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“And do the enchanted sleep, now, senor?” asked Sancho.

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“Certainly not,” replied Don Quixote; “at least, during those three days I was with them not one of them closed an eye, nor did I either.”

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“The proverb, ‘Tell me what company thou keepest and I’ll tell thee what thou art,’ is to the point here,” said Sancho; “your worship keeps company with enchanted people that are always fasting and watching; what wonder is it, then, that you neither eat nor sleep while you are with them? But forgive me, senor, if I say that of all this you have told us now, may God take me — I was just going to say the devil — if I believe a single particle.”

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“What!” said the cousin, “has Senor Don Quixote, then, been lying? Why, even if he wished it he has not had time to imagine and put together such a host of lies.”

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“I don’t believe my master lies,” said Sancho.

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“If not, what dost thou believe?” asked Don Quixote.

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“I believe,” replied Sancho, “that this Merlin, or those enchanters who enchanted the whole crew your worship says you saw and discoursed with down there, stuffed your imagination or your mind with all this rigmarole you have been treating us to, and all that is still to come.”

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“All that might be, Sancho,” replied Don Quixote; “but it is not so, for everything that I have told you I saw with my own eyes, and touched with my own hands. But what will you say when I tell you now how, among the countless other marvellous things Montesinos showed me (of which at leisure and at the proper time I will give thee an account in the course of our journey, for they would not be all in place here), he showed me three country girls who went skipping and capering like goats over the pleasant fields there, and the instant I beheld them I knew one to be the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, and the other two those same country girls that were with her and that we spoke to on the road from El Toboso! I asked Montesinos if he knew them, and he told me he did not, but he thought they must be some enchanted ladies of distinction, for it was only a few days before that they had made their appearance in those meadows; but I was not to be surprised at that, because there were a great many other ladies there of times past and present, enchanted in various strange shapes, and among them he had recognised Queen Guinevere and her dame Quintanona, she who poured out the wine for Lancelot when he came from Britain.”

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When Sancho Panza heard his master say this he was ready to take leave of his senses, or die with laughter; for, as he knew the real truth about the pretended enchantment of Dulcinea, in which he himself had been the enchanter and concocter of all the evidence, he made up his mind at last that, beyond all doubt, his master was out of his wits and stark mad, so he said to him, “It was an evil hour, a worse season, and a sorrowful day, when your worship, dear master mine, went down to the other world, and an unlucky moment when you met with Senor Montesinos, who has sent you back to us like this. You were well enough here above in your full senses, such as God had given you, delivering maxims and giving advice at every turn, and not as you are now, talking the greatest nonsense that can be imagined.”

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“As I know thee, Sancho,” said Don Quixote, “I heed not thy words.”

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“Nor I your worship’s ,” said Sancho, “whether you beat me or kill me for those I have spoken, and will speak if you don’t correct and mend your own. But tell me, while we are still at peace, how or by what did you recognise the lady our mistress; and if you spoke to her, what did you say, and what did she answer?”

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