that it weigh'd above two Pounds a sure mark of his Courage for by the Rules of Natural Philosophy the most Valiant Men have still the greatest Hearts Nevertheless tho' this Knight really dy'd he still complains and sighs sometimes as if he were alive Scarce had Montesinos spoke these Words but the miserable Durandarte cry'd out aloud Oh! Cousin Montesinos the last and dying Request of your departing Friend was to take my Heart out of my Breast with a Ponyard or a Dagger and carry it to Belerma The Venerable Montesinos hearing this fell on his Knees before the afflicted Knight and with Tears in his Eyes Long long ago said he O Durandarte thou dearest of my Kinsmen have I obey'd what you enjoyn'd me on that bitter fatal Day when you expir'd I took out your Heart with all imaginable Care not leaving the least Particle of it in your Breast I gently wip'd it with a Lac'd Handkerchief and posted away with it to France as soon as I had committed your dear Remains to the Bosom of the Earth having shed Tears enough to have wash'd my Hands clear of the Blood they had gather'd by plunging in your Entrails To confirm this Truth yet farther at the first place where I stopp'd from Roncesvalles I laid a little Salt upon your Heart to preserve it from Putrefaction and keep it if not fresh at least free from any ill Smell till I presented it into the Hands of Belerma who with you and me and Guadiana your Squire as also Ruydera the Lady's Woman with her seven Daughters her two Nieces and many others of your Friends and Acquaintance is here confin'd by the Necromantick Charms of the Magician Merlin and tho' it be now above five hundred Years since we were first convey'd to this Inchanted Castle we are all still alive except Ruydera her Daughters and Nieces who by the favour of Merlin that pity'd their Tears were turn'd into so many Lakes still extant in the World of the Living and in the Province of La-Mancha distinguish'd by the Names of the Lakes of Ruydera seven of 'em belonging to the Kings of Spain and the two Nieces to the Knights of the most Holy Order of St. John Your Squire Guadiana lamenting his hard Fate was in like manner Metamorphos'd into a River that bears his Name yet still so sensible of your Disaster that when he first arose out of the Bowels of the Earth to flow along its surface and saw the Sun in a strange Hemisphere he plung'd again under Ground striving to hide his melting sorrows from the World but the natural Current of his Waters forcing a Passage up again he is compell'd to appear where the Sun and Mortals may see him Those Lakes mixing their Waters in his Bosom he swells and glides along in sullen state to Portugal often expressing his deep Melancholy by the muddy and turbid Colour of his Streams which as they refuse to please the sight so likewise deny to indulge mortal Appetite by breeding such fair and savoury Fish as may be found in the Golden Tagus All this I have often told you my dearest Durandarte and since you return me no Answer I must conclude you believe me not or that you do not hear me for which Witness it Heaven I am extremely griev'd But now I have other News to tell ye which tho' perhaps it may not asswage your Sorrows yet I am sure it will not encrease ' em Open your Eyes and behold in your Presence that mighty Knight of whom Merlin the Sage has foretold so many Wonders That Don Quixote de la Mancha I mean who has not only restor'd to the World the Function of Knight-Errantry that has lain so long in Oblivion out advanc'd it to greater Fame than it cou'd boast in the Days of yore the nonage of the World 'T is by his Power we may expect to see the fatal Charm disolv'd that keeps us here confin'd for great Performances are properly reserv'd for great Personages And shou'd it not be so answer'd the grieving Durandarte with a faint and languishing Voice Shou'd it not be so I say Oh Cousin Patience and Shuffle the Cards Then turning on one side without speaking a Word more he relaps'd into his usual silence After this I was alarm'd with a piteous howling and crying which mix'd with lamentable Sighs and Groans oblig'd me to turn about to see whence it proceeded Then thro' the Crystal-Wall I saw a mournful Procession of most Beautiful Damsels all in black marching in two Ranks with Turbans on their Heads after the Turkish Fashion and last of all came a Majestick Lady dress'd also in Mourning with a long White Veil that reach'd from her Head down to the Ground Her Turban was twice as big as the biggest of the rest She was somewhat beetle-brow'd her Nose was flattish her Mouth-wide but her Lips Red her Teeth which she sometimes discover'd seem'd to be thin and snaggy but indeed as White as blanch'd Almonds She held a fine Handkerchief and within it I cou'd perceive a Heart of Flesh so dry and wither'd that it look'd like Mummy Montesinos inform'd me that the Procession consisted of Durandarte's and Belerma's Servants who were enchanted there with their Master and Mistress but that the last was Belerma herself who with her Attendants us'd four Days in the Week constantly thus to sing or rather howl their Dirges over the Heart and Body of his Cousin and that tho' Belerma appear'd a little haggard at that juncture occasion'd by the Grief she bore in her own Heart for that which she carry'd in her Hand yet had I seen her before her Misfortunes had sunk her Eyes and tarnish'd her Complexion worse than the Diseases of her Sex from which she was free I must have own'd that even the celebrated Dulcinea del Toboso so famous in La Mancha and over the whole Universe cou'd scarce have vy'd with her in Gracefulness and Beauty Hold there good Signior Don Montesinos said I. You know that Comparisons are odious therefore no more comparing I beseech you but go on with your Story The peerless Dulcinea del Toboso is what she is and the Lady Belerma is what she is and has been so no more upon that Subject I beg your Pardon answer'd Montesinos Signior Don Quixote I might have guess'd indeed that you were the Lady Dulc nea's Knight and therefore I ought to have bit my Tongue off sooner than to have compar'd her to any thing lower than Heaven it self This satisfaction which I thought sufficient from the great Montesinos stifl'd the Resentment I else had shewn for hearing my Mistress compar'd to Belerma Nay marry quoth Sancho I wonder you did not catch the old Doating Huncks by the Weasond and mawl and thresh him thick and threefold How cou'd you leave one Hair upon his Chin No no Sancho answer'd Don Quixote there is always a Respect due to our Seniors tho' they be no Knights but most when they are
Footmen that belong'd to the Company gave Don Quixote ill Language which so incens'd him that being resolv'd to be reveng'd upon 'em all in a mighty Rage he flew at the next he met who happen'd to be one of the Mourners Him he threw to the Ground very much hurt and then turning to the rest with a wonderful Agility he fell upon 'em with such a Fury that he presently put 'em all to Flight you wou'd have thought Rozinante had Wings at that Time so active and so fierce he then approv'd himself It was not indeed for Men unarm'd and naturally fearful to maintain the Field against such an Enemy no wonder then if the Gentlemen in White were immediately dispers'd some ran one way some another crossing the Plain with their lighted Torches you wou'd now have taken 'em for a parcel of Frolicksome Masqueraders gamboling and scouring on a Carnaval-Night As for the Mourners they poor Men were so muffled up in their long combersome Clokes that not being able to make their Party good nor defend themselves they were presently routed and ran away like the rest The rather for that they thought 't was no mortal Creature but the Devil himself that was come to fetch away the dead Body which they were accompanying to the Grave All the while Sancho was lost in Admiration and Astonishment charm'd with the Sight of his Master's Valour and now concluded him to be the formidable Champion he boasted himself After this the Knight by the Light of a Torch that lay burning on the Ground perceiving the Man who was thrown by his Mule lying near it he rode up to him and setting his Lance to his Throat Yield cry'd he and beg thy Life or thou dy'st Alas Sir cry'd t'other what need you ask me to yield I am not able to stir for one of my Legs is broken And I beseech you if you 're a Christian do not kill me I am in Holy Orders and a Master of Arts 't wou'd be a heinous Sacriledge to take away my Life What a Devil brought you hither then if you 're a Clergy-man cry'd Don Quixote What else but my ill Fortune reply'd the Supplicant A worse hovers o'er thy Head cry'd Don Quixote and threatens thee if thou do'st not answer this moment to every particular Question I ask I will I will Sir reply'd the other and first I must beg your Pardon for saying I was a Master of Arts for I have yet taken but Batchelor's Degree My Name 's Alonso Lopez I 'm of Alcovendas and came now from the Town of Baeca with eleven other Clergy-men the same that now ran away with the Torches We were going to Segovia to bury the Corps of a Gentleman of that Town who dy'd at Baeca and lies now in yonder Herse And who kill'd him ask'd Don Quixote Heaven with a Pestilential Fever answer'd the other If it be so said Don Quixote I am discharg'd of revenging his Death Since Heav'n did it there 's no more to be said had it been its Pleasure to have taken me off so I too must have submitted as I do All I have now to tell you Reverend Sir is that I am a Knight of La Mancha my Name Don Quixote my Employment is to visit all Parts of the World in quest of Adventures to right and relieve injur'd Innocence and punish Oppression Truly Sir reply'd the inferior Levite I don't understand how you can call that to right and relieve Men when you break their Legs You 've made that crooked that was right and strait before and Heaven knows whether it can ever be set right as long as I live Instead of relieving the Injur'd I fear you 've now injur'd me past Relief and while you seek Adventures you 've made me meet with a very great Misadventure All Things reply'd Don Quixote are not blest alike with a prosperous Event good Mr. Batchelor You shou'd have taken Care not to have thus gone a Processioning in these Desolate Plains at this suspicious Time of Night with your white Surplices burning Torches and Sable Weeds like Ghosts and Goblins that went about to scare People out of their Wits For I cou'd not omit doing the Duty of my Profession nor wou'd I have forborn attacking you tho' you had really been all Lucifer's infernal Crew for such I took you to be and till this moment cou'd have no better Opinion of you Well Sir said the Batchelor since 't is my hard Fortune I must only desire you as you 're a Knight-Errant and a Reliever of the Oppress'd to help me to get from under my Mule for it lies so heavy on me that I can't get my Foot out of the Stirrup Why did not you acquaint me sooner with your Grievance cry'd Don Quixote I might have talk'd on till to Morrow Morning and never have thought on 't With that he call'd Sancho who made no great haste for he was much better employ'd rifling a Load of choice Provision which the Holy Men carry'd along with 'em on a Sumpter Mule He had spread his Coat on the Ground and having laid on it as much Food as it wou'd hold he wrapt it up like a Bag and laid the precious Booty on his Ass and then away he ran to his Master and help'd him to set the Batchelor upon his Mule After which he gave him his Torch and Don Quixote bid him follow his Company and excuse him for his Mistake tho' all Things consider'd he cou'd not avoid doing what he had done And Sir quoth Sancho if the Gentleman wou'd know who 't was that so well thresh'd their Jackets you may tell 'em 't was the famous Don Quixote de la Mancha otherwise call'd the Knight of the Woful Countenance When the Batchelor was gone Don Quixote ask'd Sancho why he call'd him the Knight of the Woful Countenance I 'll tell you why quoth Sancho I have been staring upon you this pretty while by the Light of that unlucky Priest's Torch and may I ne'er stir if e'er I sat Eyes on a more Woful Phiz in my born Days and I can't tell what shou'd be the Cause on 't unless your being tir'd after this Fray or the want of your Worship's Teeth This is not the Reason cry'd Don Quixote No Sancho I rather conjecture that the Sage who is commissioned by Fate to register my Atchievements thought it convenient I shou'd assume a new Appellation as all the Knights of yore For one was call'd The Knight of the Burning Sword another of the Unicorn a third of the Phoenix a fourth the Knight of the Damsels another of the Gryphon and another the Knight of Death By which By-names and Distinctions they were known all over the Globe Therefore doubtless that Learned Inchanter my Historian has inspir'd thee with the Thought of giving me that additional Appellation of the Knight of the Woful Countenance And accordingly I arrogate the Name and intend henceforwards to be distinguish'd by that awful Denomination
make but sad Work on 't if I must pump my Brains for 't No no said the Dutchess this will do well enough and I must have the Duke see it They went then into the Garden where they were to Dine that Day and there she shew'd the Duke the Learned Epistle which he read over with a great deal of Pleasure After Dinner Sancho was Entertaining the Company very pleasantly with some of his savoury Discourse when suddenly they were surpriz'd with the mornful Sound of a Fife which play'd in Consort with a hoarse unbrac'd Drum All the Company seem'd amaz'd and discompos'd at the unpleasig Noise but Don Quixote especially was so alarm'd with this solmn Martial Harmony that he could not compose his Thoughts Sancho's Fear undoubtedly wrought the usual Effects and carried him to crouch by the Dutchess During this Consternation two Men in deep Mourning Cloaks trailing on the Ground enter'd the Garden each of 'em beating a large Drum cover'd also with Black and with these a third playing on a Fife in Mourning like the rest They usher'd in a Person of a Gigantick Stature to which the long black Garb in which he was wrapp'd up was no small Addition It had a Train of a prodigious length and over the Cassock was girt a broad black Belt which slung a Scimiter of a mighty size His Face was cover'd with a thin black Vail through which might be discern'd a Beard of vast length as white as Snow The Solemnity of his Pace kept exact Time to the gravity of the Musick In short his Stature his Motion his black Hue and his Attendance were every way suprizing and astonishing With this State and Formality he approach'd and fell on his Knees at a convenient distance before the Duke who not suffering him to speak till he arose the Monstrous Spectre erected his Bulk and throwing off his Veil discover'd the most terrible hugeous white broad prominent bushy Beard that ever Mortal Eyes were frighted at Then fixing his Eyes on the Duke and with a deep Sonorous Voice roaring out from the ample Cavern of his spreading Lungs Most High and Potent Lord cry'd he my Name is Trifaldin with the White Beard Squire to the Countess Trifaldi otherwise yclep'd the Disconsolate Matron from whom I am Ambassador to your Grace begging Admittance for her Ladyship to come and relate before your Magnificence the unhappy and wonderful Circumstances of her Misfortune But first she desires to be Inform'd whether the Valorous and Invincible Knight Don Quixote de la Mancha resides at this time in your Castle for 't is in Quest of him that my Lady has Travell'd without Coach or Palfrey Hungry and Thirsty and in short without breaking her Fast from the Kingdom of Candaya all the way to these your Grace's Territories A thing incredibly Miraculous if not wrought by Inchantment She is now without the Gate of this Castle waiting only for your Grace's Permission to enter This said the Squire Cough'd and stroak'd his unweildy Beard from the top to the bottom and with a formal gravity expected the Duke's Answer Worthy Squire Trifaldin with the white Beard said the Duke long since have we heard the Misfortunes of the Countess Trifaldi whom Inchantâ—rs have occasion'd to be call'd the Disconsolate Mâ—tron and therefore most stupendous Squire you may tell her that she may make her Entry and that the Valiant Don Quixote de la Mancha is here present on whose Generous Assistance she may safely rely for Redress Inform her also from me That if she has occasion for my Aid she may depend on my readiness to do her Service being oblig'd as I 'm a Knight to be Aiding and Assisting to the utmost of my Power to all Persons of her Sex in distress especially Widow'd Matrons like her Ladyship Trifaldin hearing this made his Obeisance with the Knee and Beckoning to the Fife and Drums to observe his Motion they all March'd out in the same Solemn Procession as they Enter'd and left all the Beholders in a deep Admiration of his Proportion and Deportment Then the Duke turning to Don Quixote Behold Sir Knight said he how the Light and Glory of Vertue dart their Beams through the Clouds of Malice and Ignorance and Shine to the remotest Parts of the Earth 'T is hardly six Days since you have vouchsaf'd to Honour this Castle with your Presence and already the Afflicted and Distress'd flock hither from the uttermost Regions not in Coaches or on Dromedaries but on Foot and without Eating by the Way such is their Confidence in the Strength of that Arm the Fame of whose great Exploits flies and spreads every where and makes the whole World acquainted with your Valour What would I give my Lord said Don Quixote that the same Holy Pedant were here now who t'other Day at your Table wou'd have run down Knight-Errantry at such a Rate that the Testimony of his own Eyes might convince him of the Absurdity of his Error and let him see that the Comfortless and Afflicted do not in Enormous Misfortunes and uncommon Adversity repair for Redress to the Doors of droning Church-men or your little Sacristans of Villages nor to the Fire-side of your Country-Gentleman who never Travels beyond his Land-mark nor to the lolling lazy Courtier who rather hearkens after News which he may relate than endeavours to perform such Deeds as may deserve to be Recorded and Related No the Protection of Damsels the Comfort of Widows the Redress of the Injur'd and the support of the Distress'd are no where so perfectly to be expected as from the generous Professors of Knight-Errantry Therefore I thank Heaven a thousand Times for having qualify'd me to Answer the Necessities of the Miserable by such a Function As for the hardships and accidents that may attend me I look on 'em as no Discouragements since proceeding from so noble a Cause Then let this Matron be admitted to make known her Request and I will refer her for Redress to the Force of my Arm and the Intrepid Resolution of my Courageous Soul CHAP. XXXVII The famous Adventure of the disconsolate * * The Spanish is Duena which signifies an old Waiting-Woman Maâ—tron continu'd THE Duke and Dutchess were mightily pleas'd to find Don Quixote wrought up to a Resolution so agreeable to their Design But Sancho who made his Observations was not so well satisfy'd I am in a bodily Fear quoth he that this same Mistress Waiting-Woman will be a Baulk to my Preferment I remember I once knew a Toledo-Potheâ—ary that talk'd like a Canary-Bird and us'd to say Where-ever come old Waiting-Women good Luck can happen there to no Man Body of me he knew 'em too well and therefore valu'd 'em accordingly He cou'd have eaten 'em all with a Grain of Salt Since then the best of 'em are so plaguy troublesome and impertinent what will those be that are in doleful Dumps like this same Countess Three Folds Three Skirts or Three Tails