Don Quixote_ Translation by Edith Grossman (HarperCollins) - Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra [225]
“Surely your grace may enter this castle and rest here, for although it is crowded and uncomfortable, there is no place in the world so crowded or uncomfortable that it does not have room for arms and letters, especially if arms and letters are led and guided by comeliness, as the letters of your grace are led by this beauteous damsel, before whom castles must not only open their gates and reveal themselves, but great rocks must split in two and mountains divide and fall in order to give her shelter. I say that your grace should enter this paradise, for here you will find stars and suns to accompany the heaven your grace brings with you: here you will find arms at their most magnificent, and beauty in the extreme.”
The judge, astounded at Don Quixote’s words, looked at him very carefully and was no less astounded by his appearance, and not finding words with which to respond, he was astounded all over again when he saw Luscinda, Dorotea, and Zoraida, for when the innkeeper’s wife told them there were new guests and had described the maiden’s beauty, they came out to see and welcome her. Don Fernando, Cardenio, and the priest gave the judge a courteous and more straightforward greeting. His honor, in fact, was somewhat bewildered by what he had seen and heard, but the enchanting women of the inn made the beautiful maiden welcome.
The judge saw clearly that all the people there were gentlefolk, but the figure, face, and bearing of Don Quixote left him perplexed; after the exchange of courteous greetings and a careful consideration of the accommodations offered by the inn, matters were arranged as they had been earlier: all the women would sleep in the previously mentioned garret, and the men would stay outside, as a kind of guard. The judge was content to have the maiden, who was his daughter, go with the ladies, which she did very willingly. With part of the innkeeper’s narrow bed, and half of the one the judge had brought with him, they settled in that night more comfortably than they had expected.
From his first glimpse of the judge, the captive’s heart had pounded with the certainty that this was his brother, and he asked one of his servants what the judge’s name was and if he knew where he was from. The servant responded that his name was Licentiate Juan Pérez de Viedma and that he had heard he came from somewhere in the mountains of León. This information, combined with what he had seen, convinced him that this was his brother, the one who had pursued letters, following his father’s advice, and with great excitement and happiness he called aside Don Fernando, Cardenio, and the priest, and told them what had happened, and assured them that the judge was his brother. The servant had told him that his honor was going to the Indies to serve as a judge on the Royal High Court of México, and the captive also learned that the maiden was the judge’s daughter, that her mother had died in childbirth, and that he was very wealthy because of the dowry his daughter had inherited. The captive asked their advice as to how he should make himself known, or if he ought to determine first whether his brother would feel humiliated when he saw how poor he was or would welcome him affectionately.
“Let me find out for you,” said the priest, “though I am certain, Señor Captain, that you will be very warmly received; your brother’s face reveals virtue and good sense, and he gives no sign of being arrogant or ungrateful or ignorant of how to evaluate the adversities of fortune.”
“Even so,” said the captain, “I would like to reveal myself to him gradually, not all at once.”
“And I say,” responded the priest, “that I will arrange it in a way that satisfies us all.”
By this time supper had been prepared, and they all sat at the table