Where the information that don Quixote received about Dulcinea’s disenchantment was continued, together with other astonishing events.
FOLLOWING THE rhythm of the pleasing music, they saw coming toward them a cart of the kind they call «triumphant», pulled by six grey mules draped in white linen, and on each one there was a «penitent of light», also dressed in white, with a burning wax torch in his hand. This cart was two or even three times the size of the other ones, and on its sides and on top there were twelve more penitents dressed in robes as white as snow, all of them with burning torches—a sight that caused wonder and fear at the same time.
On a raised throne a nymph clad in a thousand layers of silvery gauze-like material on which shone an infinite number of gold sequins, which made her look, if not richly, at least splendidly dressed. Her face was covered by a transparent and delicate silk veil through which a beautiful maiden’s face could be seen. And the many lights permitted one to distinguish her beauty and her age, which was not more than twenty but not less than seventeen years. Next to her was a figure in a flowing robe that went to his feet, and his head was covered with a black veil. At the instant that the cart arrived in front of the duke and duchess and don Quixote, the music made by the chirimías stopped, and then music of harps and lutes that were being played on the cart also stopped. The figure stood up and opened his robe and removed his veil, revealing clearly the fleshless and ugly face of Death, which made don Quixote feel apprehensive, Sancho felt fear, and the duke and duchess were also a bit afraid. This living Death, with a listless voice that appeared sleepy and with a tongue not quite awake, begin to speak in this way:
“Oh, no!” said Sancho instantly. “Not to mention the three-thousand lashes, I’ll as much give myself three as I’d stab myself three times. What the devil kind of disenchantment is this? I don’t see what my rear end has to do with enchantments. By God, if señor Merlin can’t find another way to disenchant Dulcinea del Toboso, she’ll have to go to her grave enchanted.”
“I’ll take you myself,” said don Quixote, “you garlic stuffed hayseed, and I’ll tie you to a tree, naked as when your mother bore you, and I don’t say three thousand three hundred, but rather I’ll give you six thousand six hundred lashes, and so well laid on you won’t be able to pull them off with three thousand three hundred tugs. And don’t say a word or I’ll tear your soul out.”
When Merlin heard this, he said: “It cannot be that way because the lashes that the good Sancho is to receive have to be voluntary and not by force, and in the period of time that he chooses. There’s no time limit imposed. But if he wants to cut his whipping in half he can let another’s hand administer them, even though they might be a bit weightier than he’d like.”
“Neither another’s hand nor my own, nor weighty, nor to be weighed,” replied Sancho, “no hand at all will touch me. Did I give birth to señora Dulcinea del Toboso so that my rear end should pay for the sins of her eyes? My master, yes, for she’s a part of him since he’s always calling her «my life, my soul», his mainstay and support—he’s the one who can and should whip himself for her and do everything necessary for her disenchantment. But as for my whipping myself, abernuncio.”
Hardly had Sancho said this when the silvery nymph who was next to Merlin stood up, and taking away the light veil from her face she revealed a face that seemed exceedingly beautiful to everyone, and with masculine confidence and a not-very-feminine voice, speaking directly to Sancho Panza, said: “Oh, contemptible squire, you fool, heart of a cork tree, guts as hard as rocks! If they commanded you, you thief and shameless fellow, to leap from a high tower to the ground; if they asked you, you enemy of the human race, to eat half a dozen toads, two lizards and three snakes; if they persuaded you to kill your wife and children with a huge, trenchant sword, it wouldn’t be a wonder that you would be squeamish and reticent. But to make a big deal over three thousand three hundred lashes—there’s no orphan, no matter how puny he may be, who doesn’t get that many every month—it would amaze, stun, and astonish all those pious souls who learn of it and those who will eventually learn of it with the passage of time.
“Cast, you wretched and hardened animal, cast, I say, your skittish mule eyes on these eyes of mine, which you can compare to shining stars, and you’ll see them cry thread by thread and skein by skein, making furrows, roads, and paths along the beautiful fields of my cheeks. I hope you will be moved, you rogue and evil-intentioned monster, by my flowering youth—still in its teens, for I’m nineteen and not yet twenty—which is fading and withering under the crust of a rustic peasant. And if I don’t appear that way right now, it’s because of a special favor by señor Merlin, here present, only so that my beauty can move you. May the tears of a distressed beauty turn stones into cotton and tigers into sheep.
“Smack, smack those hams of yours, you untamed brute, and cast away that sluggishness caused by your nature that makes you inclined only to gorge yourself and eat some more. Free the smoothness of my flesh, the gentleness of my nature, and the beauty of my face. And if you don’t want to relent for my sake, nor adhere to some reasonable time limit, do it for this poor knight standing next to you, for your master, I mean, whose soul, I can plainly see, is stuck in his throat, just a few inches from his lips, and he waits only for your harsh or mild answer, either to emerge from his mouth or return to his stomach.”
When don Quixote heard this, he felt his throat and said, facing the duke: “By God, Dulcinea has spoken the truth, for here’s my soul lodged in my throat like the nut of a crossbow.”
“How are you going to respond to this, Sancho?” asked the duchess.
“I’ll answer, señora,” responded Sancho, “what I’ve already said—that where the lashes are concerned, abernuncio.”
“Abrenuncio, you should say, Sancho, and not as you’ve said,” said the duke.
“Leave me alone, your highness,” responded Sancho, “for I’m not going to look for subtleties nor one letter more or less, because these lashes that are supposed to be given to me or I’m supposed to give myself have so upset me that I don’t know what I’m doing or saying. But I would like to find out from the lady, my senora Dulcinea del Toboso, where she learned this way of seeking favors. She comes to ask me to open my flesh with lashes, then calls me a fool, and an untamed beast, with a series of bad names that the devil can take. Is my flesh made of bronze by any chance? Or do I care if she’s disenchanted or not? What basket of clothes, shirts, handkerchiefs, socks (although I don’t wear them) does she send ahead to soften me up—she brings reproaches instead, knowing the proverb that they say around here that «a donkey loaded with gold goes up a mountain easily» and «gifts break stones», «pray devoutly and hammer stoutly», and «one TAKE is better than two I’LL GIVE YOUS»?
“Then there’s my master who should have taken me by the hand and treated me tenderly to gain my favor, and he says that he’ll tie me naked to a tree, and will double the ante. And these sad people should consider that not only are they asking a squire to whip himself, but a governor as well. Like they say, they’re «piling one good thing on top of another». Let them learn, let them learn how to seek favors, to ask politely, and behave themselves. Everything has its proper time and men aren’t always in a good humor. Right now I’m about to burst with grief over my torn green outfit, and they come and ask me to whip myself of my free will, which I’m as far from doing as I am turning into an Indian chief.”
“Well, in truth, my friend Sancho,” said the duke, “if you don’t soften yourself more than a ripe fig, you’ll not get your hands on the government. A fine thing it would be if I sent a cruel, hard-hearted governor to my islanders, one who doesn’t acquiesce to the tears of distressed maidens or to the requests of wise, powerful, and aged enchanters and wizards. So, Sancho, either you whip yourself, or you get whipped, or you cannot be a governor.”
“Señor,” responded Sancho, “won’t you give me two days to make up my mind about what is best for me?”
“No, in no way,” said Merlin, “right now, at this instant and in this place, decide how this business will turn out—either Dulcinea will return to the Cave of Montesinos and to her former state as a peasant, or taken away as she is to the Elysian Fields, where she’ll be waiting for the number of whiplashes to be completed.”
“Come, good Sancho,” said the duchess, “chin up, and show yourself grateful for the bread you’ve received from señor don Quixote, whom we all are obliged to serve and please owing to his noble character and his worthy chivalry. Say YES to this whipping, and let the devil go to hell, and leave fear to the wretched. «A stout heart breaks bad luck», as you well know.”
To these words, Sancho responded with these foolish ones of his own, and he asked Merlin: “Tell me, your grace, señor Merlin—when the devil courier came and gave my master a message from señor Montesinos, he commanded him to stay because he was coming with instructions how to disenchant the lady Dulcinea del Toboso. Well, up to now we haven’t seen Montesinos or the likes of him.”
To which Merlin responded: “The devil, friend Sancho, is an ignoramus and a great rogue. I sent him to look for your master, but not with a message from Montesinos, but rather from me, because Montesinos is in his cave, waiting, or rather, hoping for his disenchantment, and on that matter the «tail has yet to be skinned». If he owes you anything, or if you have anything to negotiate with him, I’ll fetch him and put him down wherever you want. For now, just say YES, and believe me, it will be to the advantage of your soul as well as to your body—to your soul, through the love by which you’ll do it, and for your body, because I know you’re of a sturdy constitution, and losing a little blood won’t do you any harm.”
“There are so many doctors in the world, even enchanters are doctors,” replied Sancho, “ but since everyone tells me to, although I don’t quite understand why, I agree to give myself the three thousand three hundred lashes, on the condition that I’ll give them whenever I choose, without any limit on the time. I’ll try to get out of debt as quickly as I can so that the world can enjoy the beauty of the lady doña Dulcinea del Toboso, since the way it appears, quite different from what I thought, she is beautiful. Another condition is that I’m not obliged to draw blood with the whip, and if some of the lashes are only hard enough to whisk flies away, they’re to be counted. Moreover, if I make a mistake in my count, señor Merlin, since he knows everything, will have to tell me how many are left or how many I’m ahead.”
“As for your being ahead of the count, I won’t have to tell you,” responded Merlin, “because the instant you get to the correct number, lady Dulcinea will be disenchanted at that very moment and will come, gratefully, to the good Sancho to thank him and even reward him for his good works. So there’s no reason to have any reservations about the excess or shortage, nor will heaven permit me to deceive anyone, even though it’s just by a single hair on one’s head.”
“All right then, it’s in God’s hands now,” said Sancho. “I consent to my bad luck—that is, I accept the penitence with the conditions duly noted.”
Hardly had Sancho said these words when the music of the chirimías began once again and an infinite number of muskets were fired, and don Quixote threw himself around Sancho’s neck, giving him a thousand kisses on his forehead and cheeks. The duchess and the duke, and everyone else appeared to be very happy, and the cart began to move, and when it went by Dulcinea bowed slightly to the duke and duchess and gave a deep bow to Sancho.
And right then the happy and smiling sunrise was fast approaching. The little flowers in the fields stood up and the liquid crystal of the streams, murmuring among the brown and white pebbles, ran to pay tribute to the expectant rivers. The happy earth, the clear sky, the clean air, the serene light, each on its own and all together gave unmistakable signs that the day, which was treading on the skirts of the dawn was going to be fine and clear. And the duke and duchess, satisfied with their hunt and with having succeeded in their plan so cleverly and happily, returned to their castle with the object of following up their pranks that gave them more delight than anything else.