Don Quixote_ Translation by Edith Grossman (HarperCollins) - Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra [193]
In the meantime, Dorotea had recovered from her swoon; she heard everything Luscinda said and realized who she was, and seeing that Don Fernando still had not freed her or responded to her words, Dorotea used all her strength to stand; then she fell to her knees in front of him, and shedding a great quantity of beautiful, heartrending tears, she began to speak to him, saying:
“If, Señor, the rays from this sun that you hold eclipsed in your arms have not clouded and darkened the light in your own eyes, then you will have seen that she who kneels at your feet is Dorotea, luckless and unfortunate until you will otherwise. I am that humble peasant whom you, out of kindness or for the sake of your own pleasure, wished to elevate to the height where she could call herself yours. I am the one who, secluded and surrounded by virtue, lived a happy life until, heeding your urgent words and what seemed to be fitting and loving sentiments, opened the doors of her modesty and handed you the keys to her freedom, a gift so little valued by you that I have been obliged to come to the place where you find me now, and see you in the manner in which I now see you. Even so, I would not want you to think that my dishonor has directed my steps, when I have been brought here only by the sorrow and grief of being forgotten by you.
You wanted me to be yours, and you wanted it in such a manner that even though you no longer do, it will not be possible for you to stop being mine. Consider, Señor, that the incomparable love I have for you may be recompense for the beauty and nobility for whose sake you have abandoned me. You cannot belong to the beautiful Luscinda because you are mine, and she cannot be yours because she belongs to Cardenio; if you consider it for a moment, it would be easier for you to turn your will to lov-ing one who adores you, rather than trying to force love from one who despises you. You solicited my shame; you pleaded for my integrity; you were not ignorant of my status; you know very well how I surrendered completely to your desire; you have no justification or reason to claim you were deceived. If this is true, and it is, and if you are as much a Christian as you are a gentleman, then why do you go to so much trouble to avoid making me as contented at the end as you did at the beginning? And if you do not love me for what I am, your true and legitimate wife, then at least want me and take me as your slave; if I am possessed by you, I shall think of myself as happy and fortunate. Do not, by leaving and abandoning me, permit my dishonor to become the subject of gossip and rumors; do not ruin the old age of my parents: their loyal service, as good vassals to your family, deserves better. And if it seems to you that you will debase your blood by mixing it with mine, consider that there are few, if any, noble lines in the world that have not taken this path, and that the bloodline on the woman’s side is not relevant to an illustrious lineage;3 furthermore, true nobility consists of virtue, and if you lose yours by denying me what you rightly owe me, then I shall have more noble characteristics than you.
In short, Señor, I say to you for the last time that whether you wish it or not, I am your wife; your words bear witness to that, and they cannot and must not be false, unless you no longer value in yourself what you scorn me for not having; your signature bears witness, as does the heaven you called on to witness what you promised me. And if all this is to no avail, your own conscience cannot help but call to you silently in the midst of all your joys, reminding you of the truth I have told you, and clouding your greatest pleasure and happiness.”
The unfortunate Dorotea said these and other words with so much emotion and so many tears that all those present, even the men who accompanied