Don Quixote_ Translation by Edith Grossman (HarperCollins) - Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra [157]
“Well,” responded Sancho, “God’s in His heaven, and He sees all the snares, and He’ll be the judge of who does worse: me in not saying the right thing or your grace in not doing it.”
“Enough,” said Dorotea. “Make haste, Sancho, and kiss your master’s hand and beg his pardon, and from now be more careful in your praise and blame, and do not speak ill of that Señora Tobosa, whom I do not know except to serve her, and trust in God that you will not lack an estate where you will live like a prince.”
Sancho, with his eyes on the ground, went to ask for his master’s hand, and his master gave it to him with a serene bearing, and after Sancho had kissed his hand, Don Quixote gave him his blessing and told him to walk ahead a little, because he had to speak to him and ask him things that were very important. Sancho did so, and the two of them moved ahead of the others, and Don Quixote said:
“Since your return I have not had the occasion or opportunity to ask you many details about the message you carried and the reply you brought back; and now, since fortune has granted us both the time and the place, do not deny me the happiness you can afford me with this good news.”
“Your grace can ask whatever you want,” responded Sancho, “and I’ll finish off each question as easily as it was begun. But, Señor, I beg your grace not to be so vengeful from now on.”
“Why do you say that, Sancho?” said Don Quixote.
“I say it,” he responded, “because the blows you gave me just now were more because of the dispute the devil started between us the other night than because of what I said against my lady Dulcinea; I love and worship her like a relic, even if she isn’t one, just because she belongs to your grace.”
“As you value your life, Sancho, do not speak of this again,” said Don Quixote, “for it brings me grief; I forgave you then, and you know what they say: a new sin demands a new penance.”6
While Don Quixote and Sancho were engaged in this conversation, the priest told Dorotea that she had shown great cleverness not only in the story, but in making it so brief and so similar to the tales in books of chivalry. She said she had often spent time reading them but did not know where the provinces or the sea ports were, and that is why she had made the mistake of saying she had disembarked at Osuna.
“I realized that,” said the priest, “which is why I hastened to say what I did, and that settled everything. But isn’t it strange to see how easily this unfortunate gentleman believes all those inventions and lies simply because they are in the same style and manner as his foolish books?”
“It is,” said Cardenio, “and so unusual and out of the ordinary that I don’t know if anyone wanting to invent and fabricate such a story would have the wit to succeed.”
“Well, there’s something else in this,” said the priest. “Aside from the foolish things this good gentleman says with reference to his madness, if you speak to him of other matters, he talks rationally and shows a clear, calm understanding in everything; in other words, except if the subject is chivalry, no one would think he does not have a very good mind.”
While they were having this conversation, Don Quixote continued his and said to Sancho:
“Panza my friend, let us make peace and forget about our quarrels, and tell me now, without anger or rancor: where, how, and when did you find Dulcinea? What was she doing? What did you say to her? What did she reply? What was her expression when she read my letter? Who transcribed it for you? Tell me everything you saw that is worth knowing, asking, and answering, not exaggerating or falsifying in order to give me pleasure, and not omitting anything, for that will take my pleasure away.”
“Señor,” responded Sancho, “if truth be told, nobody transcribed the letter for me because I didn’t take any letter.”
“What you say is true,” said Don Quixote. “I found the notebook where I wrote the letter in my possession