To which Sancho made answer, "That's trick upon trick, I think,and not honey upon pancakes; a nice thing it would be for a whippingto come now, on the top of pinches, smacks, and pin-proddings! You hadbetter take a big stone and tie it round my neck, and pitch me intoa well; I should not mind it much, if I'm to be always made the cow ofthe wedding for the cure of other people's ailments. Leave me alone;or else by God I'll fling the whole thing to the dogs, let come whatmay."
Altisidora had by this time sat up on the catafalque, and as she didso the clarions sounded, accompanied by the flutes, and the voicesof all present exclaiming, "Long life to Altisidora! long life toAltisidora!" The duke and duchess and the kings Minos and Rhadamanthusstood up, and all, together with Don Quixote and Sancho, advanced toreceive her and take her down from the catafalque; and she, makingas though she were recovering from a swoon, bowed her head to the dukeand duchess and to the kings, and looking sideways at Don Quixote,said to him, "God forgive thee, insensible knight, for through thycruelty I have been, to me it seems, more than a thousand years in theother world; and to thee, the most compassionate upon earth, Irender thanks for the life I am now in possession of. From this dayforth, friend Sancho, count as thine six smocks of mine which I bestowupon thee, to make as many shirts for thyself, and if they are not allquite whole, at any rate they are all clean."
Sancho kissed her hands in gratitude, kneeling, and with the mitrein his hand. The duke bade them take it from him, and give him backhis cap and doublet and remove the flaming robe. Sancho begged theduke to let them leave him the robe and mitre; as he wanted to takethem home for a token and memento of that unexampled adventure. Theduchess said they must leave them with him; for he knew already what agreat friend of his she was. The duke then gave orders that thecourt should be cleared, and that all should retire to their chambers,and that Don Quixote and Sancho should be conducted to their oldquarters.CHAPTER LXX
WHICH FOLLOWS SIXTY-NINE AND DEALS WITH MATTERS INDISPENSABLE FORTHE CLEAR COMPREHENSION OF THIS HISTORY
SANCHO slept that night in a cot in the same chamber with DonQuixote, a thing he would have gladly excused if he could for heknew very well that with questions and answers his master would notlet him sleep, and he was in no humour for talking much, as he stillfelt the pain of his late martyrdom, which interfered with his freedomof speech; and it would have been more to his taste to sleep in ahovel alone, than in that luxurious chamber in company. And so wellfounded did his apprehension prove, and so correct was hisanticipation, that scarcely had his master got into bed when hesaid, "What dost thou think of tonight's adventure, Sancho? Greatand mighty is the power of cold-hearted scorn, for thou with thine owneyes hast seen Altisidora slain, not by arrows, nor by the sword,nor by any warlike weapon, nor by deadly poisons, but by the thoughtof the sternness and scorn with which I have always treated her."
"She might have died and welcome," said Sancho, "when she pleasedand how she pleased; and she might have left me alone, for I nevermade her fall in love or scorned her. I don't know nor can I imaginehow the recovery of Altisidora, a damsel more fanciful than wise,can have, as I have said before, anything to do with the sufferings ofSancho Panza. Now I begin to see plainly and clearly that there areenchanters and enchanted people in the world; and may God deliver mefrom them, since I can't deliver myself; and so I beg of yourworship to let me sleep and not ask me any more questions, unlessyou want me to throw myself out of the window."
"Sleep, Sancho my friend," said Don Quixote, "if the pinprodding andpinches thou hast received and the smacks administered to thee willlet thee."
"No pain came up to the insult of the smacks," said Sancho, "for thesimple reason that it was duennas, confound them, that gave them tome; but once more I entreat your worship to let me sleep, for sleep isrelief from misery to those who are miserable when awake."
"Be it so, and God be with thee," said Don Quixote.
They fell asleep, both of them, and Cide Hamete, the author ofthis great history, took this opportunity to record and relate what itwas that induced the duke and duchess to get up the elaborate plotthat has been described. The bachelor Samson Carrasco, he says, notforgetting how he as the Knight of the Mirrors had been vanquished andoverthrown by Don Quixote, which defeat and overthrow upset all hisplans, resolved to try his hand again, hoping for better luck thanhe had before; and so, having learned where Don Quixote was from thepage who brought the letter and present to Sancho's wife, TeresaPanza, he got himself new armour and another horse, and put a whitemoon upon his shield, and to carry his arms he had a mule led by apeasant, not by Tom Cecial his former squire for fear he should berecognised by Sancho or Don Quixote. He came to the duke's castle, andthe duke informed him of the road and route Don Quixote had taken withthe intention of being present at the jousts at Saragossa. He toldhim, too, of the jokes he had practised upon him, and of the devicefor the disenchantment of Dulcinea at the expense of Sancho'sbackside; and finally he gave him an account of the trick Sancho hadplayed upon his master, making him believe that Dulcinea was enchantedand turned into a country wench; and of how the duchess, his wife, hadpersuaded Sancho that it was he himself who was deceived, inasmuchas Dulcinea was really enchanted; at which the bachelor laughed nota little, and marvelled as well at the sharpness and simplicity ofSancho as at the length to which Don Quixote's madness went. Theduke begged of him if he found him （whether he overcame him or not） toreturn that way and let him know the result. This the bachelor did; heset out in quest of Don Quixote, and not finding him at Saragossa,he went on, and how he fared has been already told. He returned to theduke's castle and told him all, what the conditions of the combatwere, and how Don Quixote was now, like a loyal knight-errant,returning to keep his promise of retiring to his village for a year,by which time, said the bachelor, he might perhaps be cured of hismadness; for that was the object that had led him to adopt thesedisguises, as it was a sad thing for a gentleman of such good parts asDon Quixote to be a madman. And so he took his leave of the duke,and went home to his village to wait there for Don Quixote, who wascoming after him. Thereupon the duke seized the opportunity ofpractising this mystification upon him; so much did he enjoyeverything connected with Sancho and Don Quixote. He had the roadsabout the castle far and near, everywhere he thought Don Quixote waslikely to pass on his return, occupied by large numbers of hisservants on foot and on horseback, who were to bring him to thecastle, by fair means or foul, if they met him. They did meet him, andsent word to the duke, who, having already settled what was to bedone, as soon as he heard of his arrival, ordered the torches andlamps in the court to be lit and Altisidora to be placed on thecatafalque with all the pomp and ceremony that has been described, thewhole affair being so well arranged and acted that it differed butlittle from reality. And Cide Hamete says, moreover, that for his parthe considers the concocters of the joke as crazy as the victims of it,and that the duke and duchess were not two fingers' breadth removedfrom being something like fools themselves when they took such painsto make game of a pair of fools.
As for the latter, one was sleeping soundly and the other lyingawake occupied with his desultory thoughts, when daylight came to thembringing with it the desire to rise; for the lazy down was never adelight to Don Quixote, victor or vanquished. Altisidora, come backfrom death to life as Don Quixote fancied, following up the freak ofher lord and lady, entered the chamber, crowned with the garland shehad worn on the catafalque and in a robe of white taffetaembroidered with gold flowers, her hair flowing loose over hershoulders, and leaning upon a staff of fine black ebony. DonQuixote, disconcerted and in confusion at her appearance, huddledhimself up and well-nigh covered himself altogether with the sheetsand counterpane of the bed, tongue-tied, and unable to offer her anycivility. Altisidora seated herself on a chair at the head of the bed,and, after a deep sigh, said to him in a feeble, soft voice, "Whenwomen of rank and modest maidens trample honour under foot, and give aloose to the tongue that breaks through every impediment, publishingabroad the inmost secrets of their hearts, they are reduced to soreextremities. Such a one am I, Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha, crushed,conquered, love-smitten, but yet patient under suffering and virtuous,and so much so that my heart broke with grief and I lost my life.For the last two days I have been dead, slain by the thought of thecruelty with which thou hast treated me, obdurate knight,
O harder thou than marble to my plaint;or at least believed to be dead by all who saw me; and had it not beenthat Love, taking pity on me, let my recovery rest upon the sufferingsof this good squire, there I should have remained in the other world."
"Love might very well have let it rest upon the sufferings of myass, and I should have been obliged to him," said Sancho. "But tellme, senora- and may heaven send you a tenderer lover than my master-what did you see in the other world? What goes on in hell? For ofcourse that's where one who dies in despair is bound for."