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

CHAP. XXIII.

Of the admirable things that the unparalel'd Don-Quixote re∣counted, which hee had seen in Montesino's profound Cave, whose strangenesse and impossibilitie makes this Chapter bee held for Apocrypha.

IT was well toward four of the clock, when the Sur ne, covered be∣tween two clouds, shewed but a dim light, and with his temperate beams, gave Don-Quixote leave, without heat or trouble, to relate to his two conspicuous Auditors, what hee had seen in Montesino's Cave; and hee began as followeth: About a twelve or fourteen mens heights in the profunditie of this Dungeon, on the right hand, there is a concavitie and space able to contain a Cart, Mules and all; some light there comes into it by certain chinks and loop-holes, which answer to it a farre off in the Superficies of the earth; this space and concavitie saw I, when I was weary and angry to see my self hanging by the rope, to goe down to that obscure, region without being carried a sure or known way; so I determined to enter into it, and to rest a little; I cryed out unto you, that you should let down no more rope till I bade you; but it seemed you heard me not: I went gathering up the rope you let down to me, and rowling of it up into a heap, sate me down upon it very pensative, thinking with my self what I might doe to get to the bottome; and being in this thought and confusion, upon a suddain (without any former inclination in me) a most profound sleep came upon me, and when I least thought of it, without knowing how, nor which way, I awaked out of it, and found my self in the midest of the fairest, most pleasant, and delightfull Medow that ever Nature created, or the wisest humane discretion can imagine; I snuffed mine eyes, wiped them, and saw that I was not asleep, but really awake, notwithstanding I felt upon my head and my brest, to bee assured if I were there my self or ••p in person, or that it were some illusion, or counterfeit; but my tounching, feeling, and my reasonable discourse that I made to my self certified me, that I was then present, the same that I am now.

By and by I saw a Princely and sumptuous Palace or Castle, whose walls and bat∣tlements seemed to bee made of transparent Cristall, from whence (upon the opening of two great gates) I saw that there came towards me a reverend old man, clad in a tawny bayes Frock, that hee dragged upon the ground: over his shoulders and brest hee wore a Tippet of green sattin, like your fellows of Colledges; and upon his cap a black Milan Bonnet, and his hoary beard reached down to his gyrdle; hee had no kinde of weapon in his hand, but only a Rosary of Beads, somewhat bigger then rea∣sonable Wall-nuts, and the Credo-Beads, about the bignesse of Ostrich eggs; his coun∣tenance, pace, gravitie, and his spreading presence, each thing by it self, and all together, suspended and admired.

Hee came to me, and the first thing hee did, was to imbrace me straightly, and forth∣with said; It is long since (renowned Knight, Don-Quixote de la Mancha) that wee who live in these inchanted Desarts have hoped to see thee, that thou mightest let the World know what is contained here, and inclosed in this profound Cave which thou hast entred, called Montesino's Cave; an exploit reserved only to bee attempted by thy invincible Heart and stupendious Courage: Come with me thou most illustrious

Knight, for I will shew thee the wonders that this transparent Castle doth conceal, of which I am the Governour, and perpetuall chief Warder, as being the same Monte∣sinos, from whom the Cave takes name.

Scarce had hee told me that hee was Montesinos, when I asked him, Whether it were true that was bruited here in the world above, that hee had taken his great friend Durandartes heart out of the midest of his bosome with a little Dagger, and carried it to the Lady Belerm•• (as hee willed) at the instant of his death? He answered me, that all was true, but only that of the Dagger; for it was no Dagger, but a little Stilletto as sharp as a Nawle.

Belike (quoth Sancho) it was of Ramon de Hozes the Sevillians making. I know not (sayd Don-Quixote) but 'twas not of that Stilletto-maker, for hee lived but the other day, and that battell of Roncesualles, where this accident happened, was many yeeres since: but this averring is of no importance or let, neither alters the truth, or Stories text.

You say right (quoth the Scholler) for I hearken with the greatest delight in the world. With no lesse doe I tell it you (sayd Don-Quixote) and proceede; The venerable Montesinos brought me into the Cristalline Palace, where in a low Hall, ex∣ceeding fresh and coole, all of Alablaster, was a great Sepulcher of Marble, made with singular Art, upon which I saw a Knight layd at length, not of Brasse, Marble, or Jaspar, as you use to have in other tombes, but of pure flesh and bone, hee held his right hand (which was somewhat hairy and sinowy, a signe that the owner was very strong) upon his heart-side, and before I asked Montesinos ought, that saw mee in suspence, beholding the tombe, hee said:

This is my friend Durandarte, the flower and mirror of Chivalrie, of the enamou∣red and valiant Knights of his time: Hee is kept here inchanted, as my selfe and ma∣ny more Knights and Ladies are, by Merlin [For so I translate it, to shew the Au∣thours mistake.] that French Enchanter; who, they say, was sonne to the Devill, but as I beleeve hee was not so, only hee knew more then the Devill. Why or how hee enchanted us, no body knowes, which the times will bring to light, that I hope are not farr off: all that I admire is, (since I know for certaine, as it is now day, that Duran∣darte dyed in my armes, and that after hee was dead, I tooke out his heart, and surely it weighed above two pounds; for according to naturall Philosophy, hee that hath the biggest heart, is more valiant then hee that hath but a lesse: which being so, and that this Knight died really) how hee complaines and sighes sometimes as if hee were alive? Which said, the wretched Durandarte, crying out aloud, said; Oh my Cousin Montesinos, the last thing that I requested you when I was dying, and my soule de∣parting; was, That you would carry my heart to Belerma, taking it out of my bosome, either with ponyard or dagger: which when the venerable Montesinos heard, hee kneeled before the greeved Knight, and with teares in his eyes, said; Long since, Oh Durandarte, long since my dearest Cousin, I did what you en-joyn'd mee in that bitter day of our losse; I tooke your heart, as well as I could, without leaving the least part of it in your brest: I wiped it with a laced handkerchiefe, and posted with it towards France, having first layd you in the bosome of the earth, with so many teares as was sufficient to wash my hands, or to wipe off the bloud from them, which I had gotten by stirring them in your entrailes: and for more assurance that I did it, my dearest Cousin, at the first place I came to from Roncesualle, I cast salt upon your heart, that it might not stinke, and might bee fresh, and embalmed when it should come to the presence of the Lady Belerma, who with you and mee, Guadiana your Squire, the waiting-woman Ruydera, and her seven Daughters, and her two Neeces, and many other of your acquaintances and friends, have beene enchanted heere by Mer∣lin that Wizard long since, and though it bee above five hundred yeeres agoe, yet none of us is dead; only Ruydera, her Daughters and Neeces are wanting, whom by rea∣son of their lamentation. Merlin that had compassion on them, turned them into so many Lakes now living in the world: and in the Province of Mancha they are cal∣led the Lakes of Ruydera; seven belong to the Kings of Spaine, and the two Neeces

to the Knights of the most holy Order of Saint Iohn. Guadiana your Squire, wailing in like manner this mis-hap, was turned into a River that bore his owne name, who when hee came to the superficies of the earth, and saw the Sun in another heaven, such was his griefe to have left you, that hee straight plunged himselfe into the entrailes of the earth: but, as it is not possible for him to leave his naturall Current, sometimes hee appeares and shewes himselfe, where the Sunne and men may see him. The afore∣saide Lakes do minister their waters to him, with which, and many others, hee enters Portugall in pompe: but which way so-ere hee goes, hee shewes his sorrow and melan∣choly, and contemnes the breeding of dainty fish in his waters, and such as are e∣steemed, but only muddie and unsavorie, farre differing from those of golden Tagus; and what I now tell you, Cousin mine, I have told you often, and since you answer mee nothing, I imagine you eyther beleeve mee not, or not heare mee; for which (God knowes) I am heartily sorry. One newes I will let you know, which though perhaps it may not any way lighten your griefe, yet it will no way increase it: Know, that you have here in your presence, (open your eyes and you shall see him) that famous Knight, of whom Merlin prophesied such great matters, that Don-Quixote de la Mancha, I say, that now newly and more happily then former Ages, hath rai∣sed the long forgotten Knight Errantry, by whose meanes and favour, it may bee, that wee also may bee dis-inchanted; for great exploits are reserved for great Personages. And if it be otherwise (answered the grieved Durandarte) with a faint and low voyce, if it bee otherwise, oh Cousin, I say, Patience and shuffle: [Patiencia ybaraiar. A Metaphor taken from Card-players, who when they lose, cry to the dealer, Patience, and shuffle the Cards.] and turning on one side, hee returned to his accustomed silence, without speaking one word.

By this wee heard great howling and moane, accompanied with deepe sighes, and short-breath'd accents: I turned mee about, and saw that in another roome there came passing by the Christall waters, a procession of a company of most beautifull Damzels, in two rankes, all clad in mourning, with Turbants upon their heads, af∣ter the Turkish fashion; at last, and in the end of the rankes, there came a Lady, who by her majesty appear'd so, clothed in like manner in blacke, with a white dressing on her head, so large, that it kissed the very ground. Her Turbant was twice as bigg as the bigest of the rest: shee was somewhat beetle-brow'd, flat-nosed, wide mouth'd, but red lipped: her teeth, for sometimes shee discovered them, seemed to bee thin, and not very well placed, though they were as white as blanch'd Almonds: in her hand shee carried a fine cloth, and within it (as might be perceived) a mommied Heart, by reason of the dry embalming of it: Montesinos told me, that all those in that procession were servants to Durandarte and Belerma that were there enchanted with their Masters; and that shee that came last with the linnen cloth and the heart in her hand, was the Lady Belerma, who, together with her Damzels, four dayes in the week did make that procession, singing, or to say truer, howling their Dirges over the body and grieved heart of his Cousin; and if now shee appeared somewhat foul to me, or not so fair as Fame hath given out, the cause was, her bad nights, but worse dayes that shee in∣dured in that enchantment, as I might see by her deep-sunk eyes, and her broken com∣plexion, and her monethly disease, is not the cause of these (an ordinary thing in wo∣men) for it is many moneths since, and many yeers that shee hath not had it, not known what it is; but the grief that shee hath in her own heart, for that shee carries in her hand continually, which renews and brings to her remembrance, the unfortunatenesse of her lucklesse Lover; for if it were not for this, scarce would the famous Dulcinea del Toboso equall her in Beauty, Wit, or livelinesse, that is so famous in the Mancha, and all the world over. Not too fast (then said I) Signior Don Montesinos, on with your story as befits; for you know all comparisons are odious; and so leave your comparing; the peerlesse Dulcinea del Toboso is what shee is, and the Lady Belerma is what shee is and hath been; and let this suffice.

To which hee answered, Pardon me Signior Don-Quixote, for I confesse I did ill, and not well, to say the Lady Dulcinea would scarce equall the Lady Belerma, since it

had beene sufficient, that I understood (I know not by what ayme) that you are her Knight, enough to have made mee bite my Tongue, before I had compared her with any thing but Heaven it selfe. With this satisfaction that Montesinos gave mee, my heart was free from that sodaine passion I had, to heare my Mistresse compared to Belerma.

And I marvell (said Sancho) that you got not to the old Carl aud bang'd his bones and pul'd his beard, without leaving him a haire in it.

No friend Sancho, said hee, it was not fit for mee to doe so; for we are all bound to reverence our Elders, although they bee no Knights, and most of all when they are so, and are enchanted. I know well enough, I was not behinde hand with him in other questions and answers that passed betweene us. Then said the Scholer, I know not Sig∣nior Don-Quixote, how you in so little time (as it is since you went downe) have seene so many things, and spoken and answered so much. How long is it (quoth hee) since I went downe? A little more then an houre (said Sancho.) That cannot bee re∣plyed Don-Quixote, because it was Morning and Evening, and Evening and Morning three times; so that by my account, I have beene three dayes in those parts so remote and hidden from our sight. Surely my Master, quoth Sancho, is in the right; for as all things that befall him are by way of Enchantment, so perhaps that which appeares to us, but an houre, is to him there three nights and three dayes. Hee hath hit it (said Don-Quixote.) And have you eat Sir in all this time (quoth the Scholer?) Not a bit (quoth Don-Quixote) neyther have I beene hungry, or so much as thought of eating. And the Enchanted, eat they, said the Scholer? No, said hee, neyther are they troubled with your greater excrements, although it bee probable that their nayles, their beards, and their hayres grow; Sleepe they haply said Sancho? No indeede said Don-Quixote, at least these three dayes that I have beene with them, not one of them hath closed his eyes, nor I neyther. That fits the Proverb (quoth Sancho) which sayes, You shall know the Person by his company; you have beene amongst the Enchanted, and those that watch and fast; no mervail therefore though you neyther slept nor eate whilest you were amongst them; but pray Sir pardon me if I say, God (or the Devill, I was about to say) take mee, if I beleeve a word of all this you have spoken. Why not, said the Scholer? Doe you thinke Signior Don-Quixote would lie to us, for though hee would, hee hath not had time to compose or invent such a million of lies? I doe not beleeve, quoth Sancho, that my Master lies: But what doe you beleeve then quoth Don-Quixote? Mary I beleeve (said Sancho) that that Merlin, or those Enchanters that En∣chanted all that rabble, that you say you have seene and conversed with there below, clapt into your apprehension or memorie all this Machine that you have told us, and all that remaines yet to bee told. All this may bee Sancho, said Don-Quixote, but 'tis o∣therwise; for what I have told I saw with these eyes, and felt with these hands: But what wilt thou say when I shall tell thee, That amongst infinite other matters and won∣ders that Montesinos shewed mee, which at more le••sure, and at fitting time, in pro∣cesse of our journey I shall tell thee: Hee shewed mee three Country-wenches, that went leaping and frisking up and down those pleasant fields, like Goates, and I scarce saw them, when I perceived the one was the peerelesse Dulcinea, and the other two, the selfe same that wee spoke to when wee left Toboso. I asked Montesinos whether hee knew them; who answered me, Not; but that sure they were some Ladies of quality there Enchanted, that but lately appeared in those fields, and that it was no wonder, for that there were many others of former times, and these present, that were En∣chanted in strange and different shapes, amongst whom hee knew Queene Gui∣nivere, and her woman Quintani••na filling Lansarotes Cuppes when hee came from Britaine.

When Sancho heard his Master thus farre, it made him starke mad, and ready to burst with laughter; for by reason that hee knew the truth of Dulcineaes Enchantment, as having beene himselfe the Enchanter, and the raiser of that Tale, hee did undoubtedly ratifie his beliefe, that his Master was madde and out of his wits; and so told him: In an ill time, and dismall day (Patron mine) went you downe into the other world,

and at an ill season met with Signior Montesinos, that hath returned you in this pickle: you were well enough here above, in your right sences as God hath given them you, uttering sentences, and giving good counsaile every foote, and not as now, telling the greatest unlikelihoods that can bee ima∣gined.

Because I know thee Sancho (quoth Don-Quixote) I make no account of thy words. Nor I of yours (said hee;) you may strike or kill me if you will, either for those I have spoken, or those I mean to speak, if you doe not correct and amend your self. But pray tell me Sir, whilest wee are at quiet, How knew you it was our Mistris? Spoke you to her? What said shee? And what answered you? I knew her (said Don-Quixote) by the same clothes shee had on at such time as thou shewd'st her mee; I spoke to her, but shee gave me not a word, but turned her back, and scudded away so fast, that a flight would not have overtaken her: I meant to have followed her, and had done it but that Montesinos told me it was in vain, and the rather, because it was now high time for me to return out of the Cave. Hee told me likewise, that in processe of time hee would let me know the means of disinchanting Durandarte, and Belerma, and himself, together with all the rest that were there: But that which most grieved me, was, that whilest I was thus talking with Montesinos, one of the unfortunate Dulcinea's companions came on one side of me (I not perceiving it) and with teares in her eyes and hollow voyce said to me; My Lady Dulcinea del Toboso commends her to you, and desires to know how you doe; and withall, because shee is in great necessity, shee desires you with all earnestnesse, thou you would bee pleased to lend her three shillings upon this new Cotten Petticoat that I bring you, or what you can spare; for shee will pay you again very shortly. This Message held me in suspence and admiration: so that turning to Signior Montesinos, I asked him, Is it possible, Signior, that those of your better sort that bee enchanted are in want? To which hee answered, Beleeve me, Sig∣nior Don-Quixote, this necessity rangeth and extends it self every where, and over-takes all men, neither spares shee the Enchanted; and therefore since the Lady Dulcinea demands these three shillinigs of you, and that the pawn seems to bee good, lend them her, for sure shee is much straightned. I will take no pawn (quoth I) neither can I lend what she requires; for I have but two shillings: These I gave, which were the same San∣cho, that thou gavest me t'other day, for almes to the poor we met: and I told the Maid, Friend, tell your Mistris that I am sorry with all my heart for her wants, and I would I were a Fucar to relieve them: [Fucares were a rich Family and name in Germanie that maintained a bank of monies in Spain, and still used to furnish Philip the 2. with mo∣nies in his Warres:] and let her know that I neither can, nor may have health, wanting her pleasing company and discreet conversation; and that I desire her as earnestly as may bee, that this her captive Servant and way-beaten Knight may see and treat with her.

You shall also say, that when shee least thinks of it, shee shall heare say, that I have made an Oath and Vow, such as was the Marquis his of Mantua, to revenge his Ne∣phue Baldwine, when hee found him ready to give up the Ghost in the midest of the Mountain; which was, Not to eat his meat with Napkins, and other flim-flams added thereunto, till hee had revenged his death: And so swear I, Not to be quiet, till I have travelled all the seven partitions of the World, more Punctually then Prince Don Manuel of Portugall, till I have disinchanted her. All this and more you owe to my Mistris, said the Damzell; and taking the two shillings, instead of making me a cour∣tesie, shee fetch'd a caper two yards high in the ayre.

Blessed God! (Sancho cryed out) and is it possible that Enchanters and Enchant∣ments should so much prevaile upon him, as to turn his right understanding into such a wilde madnesse? Sir, Sir, for Gods love have a care of your self, and look to your credit: beleeve not in these bubbles that have lessened and crazed your wits. Out of thy love Sancho, thou speakest this (said Don-Quixote) and for want of experience in the world, all things that have never so little difficultie seem to thee to bee impossible: but time will come (as I have told thee already) that I shall relate some things that I

have seen before, which may make thee beleeve what I have said, which admits no reply or controversie.