CHAPTER XL

Really and truly, all those who enjoy histories like this one ought to show their gratitude to Cide Hamete, its first author, for his care in telling us its smallest details and clearly bringing everything, no matter how trivial, to light. He depicts thoughts, reveals imaginations, responds to tacit questions, clarifies doubts, resolves arguments; in short, he expresses the smallest points that curiosity might ever desire to know. O celebrated author! O fortunate Don Quixote! O famous Dulcinea! O comical Sancho Panza! Together and separately may you live an infinite number of years, bringing pleasure and widespread diversion to the living.

The history, then, says that as soon as Sancho saw the Dolorous One in a faint, he said:

“I swear by my faith as an honest man, and by the lives of all my Panza forebears, that I have never heard or seen, nor has my master ever told me or even thought about, an adventure like this one. May a thousand Satans keep you, because I wouldn’t want to curse you for the enchanter and giant that you are, Malambruno; couldn’t you find any other punishment for these sinners except bearding them? Wouldn’t it have been better, and more to the point, to take away half their noses from the middle on up, even if they talked with a twang, instead of putting beards on them? I’ll wager they don’t have enough money to pay for somebody to shave them.”

“That is true, Señor,” responded one of the twelve, “we don’t have the money for a trim, and so some of us, as a frugal measure, are using sticky patches and plasters and applying them to our faces, then pulling them off very quickly, leaving us as smooth and sleek as the bottom of a stone mortar, for although there are women in Candaya who go from house to house to remove body hair, and tweeze eyebrows, and prepare lotions and cosmetics for women, we, the duennas of my lady, never wanted to admit them because most of them smell of being go-betweens since they’re no longer in their prime;⁴⁸⁷ if Don Quixote cannot bring us relief, we’ll go to our graves with beards.”

“I would pluck mine out,” said Don Quixote, “in a Moorish land if I could not relieve you of yours.”

At this point, Countess Trifaldi regained consciousness and said:

“The resonance of that promise, O valiant knight, reached my ears in the midst of my swoon and is the reason I have recovered and returned to all my senses, and so once again I implore you, illustrious knight errant and indomitable lord, to convert your gracious promise into action.”

“There will be no delay because of me,” responded Don Quixote. “Tell me, then, Señora, what it is that I must do, for my spirit is ready to serve you.”

“The fact is,” responded the Dolorous One, “that from here to the kingdom of Candaya it is five thousand leagues, give or take a few, if one goes by land, but if one goes by air in a straight line, it is three thousand two hundred twenty-seven leagues. You also should know that Malambruno told me that when fate furnished me with a knight to be our liberator, he would send him a mount infinitely better and less perverse than any hired ones, for it is the same wooden horse on which the valiant Pierres carried off and abducted the fair Magalona,⁴⁸⁸ and this horse is controlled by a peg on his forehead, which acts as a harness, and he flies through the air so quickly that he seems to be carried by the devils themselves. This horse, according to an ancient tradition, was built by the wise Merlin, who lent him to Pierres, who was his friend, and with him he made great journeys and abducted, as we have said, the fair Magalona, carrying her off through the air as she sat on the horse’s hindquarters, and astounding everyone who was watching them from the ground; Merlin would lend him only to those he loved dearly or who paid him well, and from the time of the great Pierres until now, we don’t know if anyone else has mounted him. Malumbruno obtained him through his arts, and has him in his power, and uses him on the journeys that he takes from time to time to different parts of the world: today he is here, and tomorrow in France, and the next day in Potosí; and the good thing is that this horse doesn’t eat or sleep or need shoes, and he trots through the air without wings, and his gait is so smooth and even that whoever rides him can hold a cup full of water in his hand without spilling a drop, and for this reason the fair Magalona enjoyed riding him so much.”

To which Sancho said:

“My gray’s the one for a smooth and even gait, though he doesn’t go through the air; but on land I’d put him up against all the trotters in the world.”

Everyone laughed, and the Dolorous One continued:

“And this horse, if in fact Malambruno wants to end our misfortune, will be in our presence before the night is half an hour old, because he indicated to me that the sign he would give to let me know I had found the knight I was looking for would be to send me the horse, conveniently and speedily, wherever the knight might be.”

“And how many can fit on this horse?” asked Sancho.

The Dolorous One responded:

“Two people: one in the saddle and the other on the hindquarters, and for the most part these two people are knight and squire, when there is no abducted maiden.”

“I’d like to know, Señora Dolorous,” said Sancho, “what the horse’s name is.”

“His name,” responded the Dolorous One, “is not that of Bellerophon’s horse, named Pegasus, or that of Alexander the Great, called Bucephalus, or that of the furious Orlando, dubbed Brillador, much less Bayarte, who belonged to Reinaldos de Montalbán, or Frontino, who was Ruggiero’s steed, or Bootes or Pirithous, which, they say, were the names of the horses of the Sun, and his name is not Orelia, like the horse on which the unfortunate Rodrigo, last king of the Visigoths, entered the battle in which he lost his life and his kingdom.”

“I’ll wager,” said Sancho, “that since they didn’t give him any of those famous names of well-known horses, they didn’t give him the name of my master’s, Rocinante, which would suit him better than all those others you’ve mentioned.”

“That is true,” responded the bearded countess, “but the name he has fits him, because he is called Clavileño the Fleet,⁴⁸⁹ a good name for him because it shows that he’s made of wood, and has a peg on his forehead, and moves very quickly; and so, as far as his name is concerned, he can certainly compete with the famous Rocinante.”

“I don’t dislike the name,” replied Sancho, “but what kind of halter or bridle do you use to control him?”

“I’ve already told you,” responded Countess Trifaldi, “that it’s done with the peg, and by turning it one way or the other, the rider can make him go wherever he wants, either through the air, or else skimming and almost sweeping along the ground, or following the middle course, which is what one hopes for and must have in all well-regulated actions.”

“I’d like to see him,” responded Sancho, “but thinking that I’ll climb up on him, either in the saddle or on his hindquarters, is asking the elm tree for pears. I can barely stay on my donkey, and that’s on a packsaddle softer than silk, and now they want me to sit on hindquarters made of wood, without even a pillow or cushion! By God, I don’t plan to bruise myself for the sake of removing anybody’s beard: let each person find a way to be shaved, for I don’t intend to go with my master on such a long journey. Besides, I don’t have anything to do with shaving these beards the way I have something to do with disenchanting Señora Dulcinea.”

“Yes, you do, my friend,” responded Countess Trifaldi, “so much so that without your presence I understand we won’t do anything.”

“That’s not the king’s justice!” said Sancho. “What do squires have to do with the adventures of their masters? Don’t they get the fame when they’re successful while we get all the work? Good God! If the histories only said: ‘Such-and-such a knight concluded such-and-such an adventure, but with the help of so-and-so his squire, and without him it would have been impossible….’ But all they write is: ‘Don Paralipomenón of the Three Stars concluded the adventure of the six monsters,’ and they never mention his squire, who was present for everything, just as if he weren’t in the world at all! And so, my lords and ladies, I say again that my master can go alone, and good luck to him; I’ll stay here, in the company of my lady the duchess, and it might be that when he gets back he’ll find the cause of Señora Dulcinea much improved, because in my idle and empty moments I plan to give myself a whole series of lashes, and with a good deal of energy.”

“Even so, you’ll have to accompany him if it’s necessary, my good Sancho, because good people have asked you to; the faces of these ladies should not be left so heavily covered simply because of your foolish fear, for that would certainly be a sad affair.”

“That’s not the king’s justice again!” replied Sancho. “If this act of charity was for some shy maidens, or for girls learning their catechism, a man might risk any undertaking, but to suffer this just to take the beards off duennas, not me, not ever! I’d rather see all of them with beards, from the oldest to the youngest, from the most pretentious to the most affected.”

“You have bad feelings toward duennas, Sancho my friend,” said the duchess, “and you certainly follow the opinion of the Toledan pharmacist. But, by my faith, you are wrong: there are duennas in my own house who could serve as models for all duennas; here is my Doña Rodríguez, who will not allow me to say another thing.”

“Say what you wish, Your Excellency,” said Doña Rodríguez, “for God knows the truth of everything, and whether or not we duennas are good or bad, bearded or hairless, our mothers bore us just like all other women, and since God put us into the world, He knows the reason, and I rely on His mercy and not on anybody’s beard.”

“Well now, Señora Rodríguez,” said Don Quixote, “and Señora Trifaldi and company, I trust that heaven will look with kindly eyes upon your afflictions; Sancho will do what I tell him to do, whether Clavileño comes or whether I find myself in combat with Malambruno, for I know there is no razor that could shave your graces more easily than my sword could shave Malambruno’s head from his shoulders; God endures the wicked, but not forever.”

“Oh!” said the Dolorous One. “May all the stars of the celestial regions look with benevolent eyes upon your greatness, O valiant knight, and infuse your spirit with good fortune and courage to be the shield and protection of the abused and despised duennaesque race, hated by pharmacists, slandered by squires, and deceived by pages; too bad for the wretched girl who in the flower of her youth did not choose to be a nun instead of a duenna! How unfortunate we duennas are! Even if we came directly, through the male line, from Hector the Trojan, our mistresses would still address us as inferiors, as if they thought that would make them queens! O giant Malambruno, even though you are an enchanter, you keep your promises! Send us, then, the peerless Clavileño, so that our misfortune may end, for if the hot weather comes and we still have our beards, then alas, how unfortunate for us!”

Countess Trifaldi said this with so much feeling that she brought tears to the eyes of all those present, and even filled Sancho’s to the brim, and he determined in his heart to accompany his master to the ends of the earth if that was required to remove the wool from those venerable faces.