The history of the valorous and vvitty-knight-errant, Don-Quixote, of the Mancha tr. out of the Spanish.

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Title
The history of the valorous and vvitty-knight-errant, Don-Quixote, of the Mancha tr. out of the Spanish.
Author
Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de, 1547-1616.
Publication
London :: Printed by R. Hodgkinsonne for Andrew Crooke,
1652.
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"The history of the valorous and vvitty-knight-errant, Don-Quixote, of the Mancha tr. out of the Spanish." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A31538.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 16, 2024.

Pages

CHAP. II.

Which treats of the Discretion of the Beautifull Dorotea, and the artificiall manner used to disswade the amorous Knight from con∣tinuing his penance; And how hee was gotten away; with many other delightfull Occurrences.

THis is, Sirs, the true relation of my Tragedie; see therefore now and judge, whether the sighs you heard, the words to which you listened, and the tears that gushed out at mine eyes, have not had sufficient occasion to appear in greater abundance: and having considered the quality of my disgrace, you shall perceive all comfort to be vain, seeing the remedie thereof is impossible: Only I will request at your hands one favour, which you ought and may easily grant, and is, That you will addresse me unto some place, where I may live secure from the fear and suspicion I have to be found by those which I know doe dayly travell in my pursuit: for although I am sure that my Parents great affection toward me doth warrant me to be kindely received and entertained by them; yet the shame is so great that possesseth me, only to think that I shall not return to their presence in that state which they ex∣pect, as I account it far better to banish my self from their sight for ever, then once to behold their face with the least suspicion that they again would behold mine, divorced from that honestie which whilom my modest behaviour promised. Here shee ended, and her face suddainly over-run by a lovely scarlet, perspicuously denoted the feeling and bashfullnesse of her soul.

The audients of her sad storie, felt great motions both of pittie and admiration, for her misfortunes: and although the Curate thought to comfort and counsell her forth∣with, yet was hee prevented by Cardenio, who taking her first by the hand, said at last; Ladie, thou art the beautifull Dorotea, daughter unto rich Cleonardo. Dorotea rested admired when shee heard her fathers name, and saw of how little value he seemed who had named him; for we have already recounted how raggedly Cardenio was clothed; and therefore shee said unto him, And who art thou, friend, that knowest so well my fathers name; for untill this hour (if I have not forgotten my self) I did not once name him throughout the whole discourse of my unfortunate Tale? I am (answered

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Cardenio the unluckie Knight, whom Luscinda (as thou saidst) affirmed to bee her hus∣band. I am the disastrous Cardenio, whom the wicked proceeding of him that hath also brought thee to those termes wherein thou art, hath conducted mee to the state in which I am, and thou maist behold ragged, naked, abandoned by all humane comfort; and what is worse, void of sense; seeing I only enjoy it but at some few short times, and that, when heaven pleaseth to lend it mee. I am hee Dorotea, that was present at Don Fernandoes unreasonable wedding, and that heard the consent which Luscinda gave him to bee his wife. I was hee that had not the courage to stay and see the end of her trance, or what became of the paper found in her bosome; for my soule had not po∣wer or sufferance to behold so many misfortunes at once, and therefore abandoned the place and my patience together, and only left a Letter with mine Host, whom I intrea∣ted to deliver it into Luscinda her owne hands, and then came into these Desarts, with resolution to end in them my miserable life, which since that houre I have hated as my most mortall Enemie: But Fortune hath not pleased to deprive mee of it, thinking it sufficient to have impaired my wit, perhaps reserving me for the good successe befaln mee now in finding of your selfe; for that being true (as I beleeve it is) which you have here discoursed, peradventure it may have reserved yet better hap for us both in our dis∣asters then wee expect.

For presupposing that Luscinda cannot marry with Don Fernando, because shee is mine, nor Don Fernando with her because yours; and that shee hath declared so mani∣festly the same, wee may well hope that heaven hath meanes to restore to every one that which is his owne, seeing it yet consists in being not made away or annihilated. And seeing this comfor remaines, not sprung from any very remote hope, nor founded on idle surmises, I request thee faire Lady, to take another resolution in thine honourable thought, seeing I meane to doe it in mine, and let us accomodate our selves to expect better successe: For I doe vow unto thee by the faith of a Gentleman and Christian, not to forsake thee, untill I see thee in Don Fernandoes possession, and when I shall not by reasons bee able to induce him to acknowledge how far hee rests indebted to thee then will I use the liberty granted to mee as a Gentleman, and with just title challenge him to the field, in respect of the wrong hee hath done unto thee; forgetting wholly mine owne injuries, whose revenge I will leave to Heaven, that I may be able to right yours on earth.

Dorotea rested wonderfully admired, having knowne and heard Cardenio, and igno∣ring what competent thanks shee might returne him in satisfaction of his large offers, shee cast her selfe downe at his feete to have kissed them, which Cardenio would not per∣mit; and the Licentiat answered for both, praysing greatly Cardenioes discourse; and chiefly intreated, prayed and counselled them, that they would goe with him to his Village, where they might fit themselves with such things as they wanted, and also take order how to search out Don Fernando, or carie Dorotea to her fathers house, or doe else what they deemed most convenient. Cardenio and Dorotea gratified his courtesies, and accepted the favour hee profferred. The Barbar also, who had stood all the while silent and suspended, made them a pretty discourse, with as friendly an offer of himselfe, and his service as Master Curate; and likewise did brieflie relate the occasion of their com∣ming thither, with the extravagant kinde of madnesse which Don-Quixote had, and how they expected now his Squires returne, whom they had sent to search for him. Cardenio having heard him named, remembred presently, as in a dreame, the conflict past betweene them both, and recounted it unto them, but could not in any wise call to mind the occasion thereof.

By this time they heard one call for them, and knew by the voice, that it was Sancho Panchaes, who because hee found them not in the place where hee had left them, cry∣ed out for them as lowdly as hee might. They went to meete him, and demanding for Don-Quixote, hee answered, that hee found him all naked to his shyrt, leane, yellow, almost dead for hunger, and sighing for his Lady Dulcinea; and although he had told him, how shee commanded him to repayre presently to Toboso, where shee expected him, yet notwithstanding hee answered, That hee was determined never to appeare be∣fore

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her Beautie, untill hee had done Feats that should make him worthy of her gracious favour. And then the Squire affirmed if that humour passed on any farther, hee fear∣ed his Lord would bee in danger never to become an Emperour, as hee was bound in honour, no, nor a Cardinall, which was the least that could be expected of him.

The Licentiat bid him bee of good cheer, for they would bring him from thence whether he would or no; and recounted to Cardenio and Dorotea, what they had be∣thought for Don-Quixotes remedie, or at least for the carrying him home to his house. To that Dorotea answered, that shee would counterfeit the distressed Ladie better then the Barber, and chiefly seeing she had apparrel wherewithall to act it most naturally: And therefore desired them to leave to her charge the representing of all that which should bee needfull for the atchieving of their Designe; for shee had read many books of Knighthood, and knew well the stile that distressed Damzels used, when they reque∣sted any favour of Knights Adventurous. And then need we nothing else, quoth the Curate, but only to put our purpose presently in execution: For questionlesse good successe turns on our side, seeing it hath so unexpectedly begun already to open the gates of your remedy, and hath also facilitated for us that whereof we had most necessity in this exigent. Dorotea took forthwith out of her Pillow-bear a whole Gown of very rich stuff, and a short Mantle of another green stuff, and a Collar and many other rich Jewels out of a Boxe, wherewithall she adorned her self in a trice so gorgeously, as shee seemed a very rich and goodly Ladie: All which, and much more, shee had brought with her, as shee said, from her house, to prevent what might happen, but never had any use of them untill then. Her grace, gesture, and beauty liked them all extreamly, and made them account Don Fernando to bee a man of little understanding, seeing hee contemned such feature. But hee which was most of all admired was Sancho Panca, because, as hee thought (and it was so indeed) that hee had not in all the dayes of his life before seen so fair a creature; and he requested the Curate very seriously, to tell him who that beautifull Ladie was? and what shee sought among those thorow∣fares? This fair Lady, friend Sancho, answered the Curate, is (as if a man said nothing shee is so great) Heir apparent by direct line of the mighty Kingdome of Micomicon, and comes in the search of your Lord, to demand a boon of him, which is, that hee will destroy and undoe a great wrong done unto her by a wicked Gyant; and through the great fame which is spread over all Guinea of your Lords prowesse, this Princesse is come to finde him out. A happy searcher, and a fortunate finding, quoth Sancho! and chiefly, if my Master bee so happy as to right that injury and redresse that wrong by killing that, ô the mighty Lubber of a Gyant, whom you say! yes, hee will kill him, I am very certain, if hee can once but meet him, and if hee bee not a Spirit; for my Master hath no kinde of power over Spirits. But I must request one favour of you, among others most earnestly, good Master Licentiat, and it is, That to the end my Lord may not take an humbur of becoming a Cardinall, which is the thing I fear most in this world) that you will give him counsell to marry this Princesse presently, and by that means hee shal remain incapable of the dignity of a Cardinall, and will come very easily by his Empire, and I to the end of my desires; for I have thought well of the matter, and have found, that it is in no wise expedient that my Lord should become a Cardinall; for I am wholy unfit for any Ecclesiasticall dignity, seeing I am a married man: And therefore to trouble my self now with seeking of dispensations to enjoy Church livings, having, as I have, both wife and children, were never to end: So that all my good consists, in that my Lord doe marry this Princesse instantly, whose name yet I know not; and therefore I have not said it. Shee is hight (quoth the Curate) the Princesse Micomicona: for her Kingdome being called Micomicon, it is evident shee must be termed so.

That is questionlesse, quoth Sancho; for I have known many to take their deno∣mination and surname from the place of their birth, calling themselves Peter of Al∣cala, Iohn of Vbeda, and Iames of Valedolid; and perhaps in Guinea Princes and Queens use the same custome, and call themselves by the names of their Pro∣vinces.

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So I thinke quoth the Curate; and as touching your Masters marriage with her, I will labour therein as much as lies in my power. Wherewithall Sancho remained as well sa∣tisfied, as the Curate admired at his simplicitie, and to see how firmly hee had fixed in his fantasie the very ravings of his Master, seeing hee did beleeve without doubt that his Lord should become an Emperour. Dorotea in this space had gotten upon the Curates Mule, and the Barber had somwhat better fitted the beard which hee made of the Oxes tayle on his face, and did after intreat Sancho to guide them to the place where Don-Quixote was, and advertised him withall, that hee should in no wise take any notice of the Curate or Barber, or confesse in any sort that hee knew them, for therein consisted all the meanes of bringing Don-Quixote to the minde to become an Emperour. Yet Cardenio would not goe with them, fearing lest thereby Don-Quixote might call to minde their contention; and the Curate thinking also that his presence was not expedi∣ent remayned with him, letting the others goe before, and these followed a far off fayre and softlie on foote, and ere they departed, the Curate instructed Dorotea anew, what shee should say, who bid him to feare nothing for shee would dis∣charge her part to his satisfaction, and as Bookes of Chivalrie required and laid downe.

They travelled about three quarters of a league, as they espied the Knight, and at last they discovered him among a number of intricate Rocks, all apparelled, but not armed, and as soone as Dorotea beheld him, shee struck her Palfrey, her well-bearded Barber following her; and as they approached Don-Quixote, the Barber leaped lightly downe from his Mule and ran towards Dorotea to take her downe betweene his armes, who alighting went with a very good grace towards Don-Quixote, and kneeled before him. And although hee strived to make her arise, yet shee remayning still on her knees, spake to him in this manner: I will not arise from hence, thrice valorous and appro∣ved Knight, untill your bountie and courtesie shall grant unto mee one Boone, which shall much redound unto your honour and prize of your Person, and to the profit of the most disconsolate and wronged Damzell that the Sunne hath ever seene. And if it bee so, that the valour of your invincible Arme bee correspondent to the bruite of your immortall same, you are obliged to succour this comfortlesse Wight, that comes from lands so remote, to the sound of your famous name, searching you for to remedy her mis-haps.

I will not answere you a word, faire Lady, quoth Don-Quixote, nor heare a jot of your affaire, untill you arise from the ground. I will not get up from hence, my Lord, quoth the afflicted Lady, if first, of your wonted bountie, you doe not grant to my re∣quest. I doe give and grant it, said Don-Quixote, so that it bee not a thing that may turn to the dammage or hindrance of my King, my Country, or of her that keeps the key of my Heart and Liberty. It shall not turn to the dammage or hindrance of those you have said, good Sir, replied the dolorous Damzel: and as shee was saying this Sancho Panca rounded his Lord in the eare, saying softly to him, Sir, you may very well grant the request she asketh, for it is a matter of nothing, it is only to kill a mon∣strous Gyant, and she that demands it is the mightie Princesse Micomicona Queen of the great Kingdome of Micomicon in Ethiopia. Let her bee what shee will, quoth Don-Quixote, for I will accomplish what I am bound, and my conscience shall inform me comformable to the State I have professed. And then turning to the Damzell, hee said, Let your great beauty arise; for I grant to you any boon which you shall please to ask of me. Why then, quoth the Damzell, that which I demand is, That your mag∣nanimous person come presently away with me, to the place where I shall carry you; and doe likewise make me a promise, not to undertake any other Adventure or de∣mand, untill you revenge me upon a Traytor, who hath, against all Laws both Divine and Humane, usurped my Kingdome. I say that I grant you all that, quoth Don-Quixote; and therefore, Lady, you may cast away from this day forward all the Me∣lancholy that troubles you, and labour that your languishing and dismaied hopes may recover again new strength and courage; for by the help of God, and that of mine arme, you shall see your self shortly restored to your Kingdome, and enthronized in

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the Chair of your ancient and great Estate, in despite and maugre the Traytors that shall dare gainsay it: and therefore hands to the work; for they say that danger alwayes follows delay. The distressed Damzell strove with much adoe to kisse his hand. But Don-Quixote, who was a most accomplished Knight for courtesie, would never condescend thereunto; but making her arise, hee imbraced her with great kindnesse and respect; and commanded Sancho to saddle Rozinante, and help him to Arme himself.

Sancho took down the Armes forthwith, which hung on a Tree like Trophies, and searching the Gyrts, armed his Lord in a moment; who seeing himself Armed, said, Let us in Gods name, depart from hence to assist this great Lady. The Barber kneeled all this while, and could with much adoe dissemble his laughter, or keep on his Beard that threatned still to fall off; with whose fall perhaps, they should all have remained with∣out bringing their good purpose to passe: And seeing the boon was granted, and noted the dilligence wherewithall Don-Quixote made himself ready to depart and accom∣plish the same: hee arose and took his Ladie by the hand; and both of them together holp her upon her Mule; and presently after Don-Quixote leaped on Rozinante, and the Barber got on his Beast, Sancho only remaining a foot; where he afresh renewed the me∣mory of the losse of his gray Asse, with the want procured to him thereby. But all this hee bore with very great patience, because hee supposed that his Lord was now in the way, and next degree to bee an Emperour; for he made an infallible account that hee would marry that Princesse, and at least bee King of Micomicon: But yet it grieved him to think how that Kingdome was in the Country of black Moors; and that there∣fore the Nation which should bee given to him for his Vassals should be all black: For which difficultie his imagination coyned presently a good remedie; and hee discoursed with himself in this manner. Why should I care though my Subjects be all black Moors? is there any more to be done then to load them in a Ship and bring them into Spain, where I may sell them, and receive the price of them in ready mony? and with that money may I buy some Title or Office, wherein I may after live at mine ease all the dayes of my life. No! but sleep, and have no wit nor abilitie to dispose of things; and to sell thirty or ten thousand Vassals in the space that one would say, give me those straws. I will dispatch them all; they shall lie the little with the great, or as I can best con∣trive the matter: And bee they ever so black, I will transform them into white or yellow ones: come neer and see whether I cannot suck well my fingers ends. And thus hee travailed so solicitous and glad, as hee quite forgot his pain of travailing a foot. Cardenio and the Curate stood in the mean timebeholding all that passed from behinde some Brambles, where they lay luking, and were in doubt what means to use to issue and joyn in company with them. But the Curate, who was an ingenious and prompt plotter, devised instantly what was to bee done, that they might attain their desire: Thus hee took out of his case a pair of Shears, and cut off Cardenio's Beard therewithall in a trice, and then gave unto him to wear a riding Capouch which hee himself had on, and a black Cloak; and himself walked in a Doublet and Hose: Car∣denio, thus attired, looked so unlik that he was before, as he would not have known himself in a Looking-glasse. This being finished, and the others gone on before whilest they disguised themselves, they sallied out with facilitie to the high way before Don-Quixote or his company; for the Rocks and many other bad passages did not permit those that were a horse-back to make so speedie an end of their Journey, as they: and having thorowly past the Mountain, they expected at the foot hereof for the Knight and his company, who when he appeared, the Curate looked on him very earnestly for a great space, with inkling that he began to know him: And after hee had a good while beheld him, hee ran towards him with his armes spread abroad, saying, In a good houre bee the mirrour of all Knighthood found, and my noble country man Don-Quixote of the Mancha; the flower and cream of Gentility; the shadow and remedie of the affli∣cted; and the Quintescence of Knights Errant and saying this, he held Don-Quixote his left thigh embraced. Who, admiring at that which hee heard that man to say and doe, did also review him with attention, and finally knew him; and all amazed to see

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him, made much adoe to alight; but the Curate would not permit him; wherefore Don-Quixote said, Good Master Licentiat permit me to alight; for it is in no sort decent that I bee a horse-back, and so reverend a person as you goe on foot. I will never consent thereunto, quoth the Curate, your highnesse must needs stay on horse-back, seeing that thereon you are accustomed to archieve the greatest feats of Chivalry and Adventures which were ever seen in our age. For it shall suffice me, who am an un∣worthy Priest, to get up behinde some one of these other Gentlemen that ride in your company, if they will not take it in bad part; yes, and I will make account that I ride on Pegasas, or the Zebra [A strange Beast of Affirick that travails very swiftly] of the famous Moor Muzaraque, who lies yet inchanted in the steep Rock of Culema, neer unto Alcala of Henares.

Truely I did not think upon it, good Master Licentiat, answered Don-Quixote; yet I presume my Lady the Princesse will bee well appaid for my sake to command her Squire to lend you the use of his saddle, and to get up himself on the crupper, if so it bee that the Beast will bear double. Yes that it will, said the Princesse, for ought I know; and likewise I am sure it will not bee necessary to command my Squire to alight, for hee is of himself so courteous and courtly, as hee will in no wise con∣descend that an Ecclesiasticall man should goe on foot, when hee may help him to a horse.

That is most certain, quoth the Barber: and saying so he alighted, and intreated the Curate to take the saddle; to which courtesie he did easily condescend. But by evill fortune, as the Barber thought to leap up behinde him, the Mule which was in effect a hired one (and that is sufficient to say it was unhappy) did lift a little her hinder quarters, and bestowed two or three flings on the aire, which had they hit on Master Nicholas his breast or pte, hee would have bequeathed the quest of Don-Quixote upon the Divell: But notwithstanding the Barber was so affrighted, as hee fell on the ground with so little heed of his beard, as it fell quite off, and lay spread upon the ground; and perceiving himself without it, he ehad no other shift, but to cover his face with both his hands, and complain, that all his cheek-teeth were strucken out. Don-Quixote beholding such a great sheaf of a beard faln away, without jaw or blood, from the face, he said; I vow this is one of the greatest miracles that ever I saw in my life; it hath taken and pluckt away his beard as smoothly as if it were done of purpose. The Curate beholding the danger which their invention was like to incur, if it were de∣tected, went forthwith, and taking up the beard, came to Master Nicholas that lay still playing, and with one push bringing his head towards his own breast, he set it on again, murmuring the while over him certain words, which he said were a certain prayer ap∣propriated to the setting on of faln beards, as they should soon perceive: And so ha∣ving set it on handsomely, the Squire remained as well bearded and whole as ever he was in his life: Whereat Don-Quixote rested marvellously admired, and requested the Curate to teach him that prayer when they were at leisure: For hee supposed that the virtue thereof extended it self farther then to the fastning on of beards, since it was manifest that the place whence the beard was torne must have remained without flesh, wounded and ill dight; and seeing it cured all, it must of force serve for more then the beard. It is true, replyed Master Curate; and then promised to instruct him with the secret, with the first oportunity that was presented.

Then they agreed that the Curate should ride first on the Mule, and after him the other two, each one by turns, untill they arived to the Inn, which was about some two leagues thence. Three being thus mounted, to wit, Don-Quixote, the Princesse, and Curate; and the other three on foot, Cardenio, the Barber, and Sancho Panca. Don-Quixote said to the Damzell; Madam! let me intreat your Highnesse to lead me the way that most pleaseth you. And before she could answer, the Licenciat said, To∣wards what Kingdome would you travail? is it by fortune towards that of Mico∣micon? I suppose it should be thitherwards, or else I know but little of Kingdoms. She, who knew very well the Curates meaning, and was her self no Babe, answered, saying, Yes Sir, my way lies towards that Kingdome. If it be so, quoth the Curate,

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you must passe through the Village where I dwell, and from thence direct your course twards Cartagena, where you may luckily embarke your selves. And if you have a prosperous winde, and a quiet and calme Sea, you may come within the space of nine yeeres to the sight of the Lake Meona, I meane Meolidas, which stands on this side of your highnesse Kingdome some hundred dayes journey or more. I take you to bee de∣ceived good Sir quoth shee, for it is not yet fully two yeeres since I departed from thence, and truly I never almost had any faire weather, and yet notwithstanding I have arived and come to see that which I so much longed for, to wit, the presence of the worthie Don-Quixote of the Mancha, whose renowne came to my notice as soone as I touched the earth of Spayne with my foote, and moved mee to search for him, to commend my self to his courtesie, and commit the Justice of my cause to the valour of his invincible Arme.

No more quoth Don-Quixote, I cannot abide to heare my selfe praysed; for I am a sworne enemy of all adulation: And although this bee not such, yet notwithstanding the like Discourses doe offend my chaste eares. What I can say to you faire Princesse is; that whether I have valour or not, that which I have or have not shall bee imployed in your service, even to the very losse of my life. And so omitting that till this time, let me intreat good Master Licentiat to tell mee the occasion which hath brought him here to these quarters so alone, without attendants, and so sleightly attyred, as it strikes mee in no little admiration? To this I will answere with brevitic quoth the Curate; You shall understand that Master Nicolas the Barber, our very good friend, and my self, tra∣velled towards Sivill, to recover certaine summes of money which a kinsman of mine, who hath dwelt these many yeeres in the Indies hath sent unto mee; the summe is not a little one, for it surmounted seventy thousand Rials of eight, all of good weight, see if it was not a rich gift; and passing yesterday through this way, wee were set upon by foure Robbers which dispoyled us of all, even to our very beards, and that in such sort, as the Barber was forced to set on a counterfeit one, and this young man that goeth here with us (meaning Cardenio) was transformed by them anew: & the best of it is, that it is publickly bruited about all this commark, that those which surprized us were Gally-slaves who were set at liberty, as is reported, much about this same place, by so valiant a Knight as in despight of the Commissary and the guard hee freed them all. And questionlesse hee either was wood, or else as great a knave as themselves, or some one that wanted both Soule and Conscience, seeing hee let slip the Wolves amidst the Sheepe, the Foxe among the Hens, and Files hard by Honey, and did frustrate Justice, rebell against his naturall Lord and King; for hee did so by oppugning his just commandements, and hath deprived the Gallies of their feet, and set all the Holy brotherhood in an uproare, which hath reposed these many yeeres past. And finally would doe an Act, by which hee should lose his Soule, and yet not gaine his Bodie. Sancho had rehearsed to the Curate and Barbar the Adventure of the Slaves, which his Lord had accomplished with such glorie; and therefore the Curate did use this vehemencie as hee repeated it, to see what Don-Quixote would say or doe, whose colour changed at every word, and durst not confesse that hee was himselfe the deliverer of that good People: and these quoth the Curate, were they that have robbed us: And God of his infinite Mercy pardon him who hindred their going to receive the punishment they had so well deserved.

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