Don Quixote_ Translation by Edith Grossman (HarperCollins) - Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra [403]
“Hello there, courier!” said the duke. “Who are you, where are you going, and what soldiers are these who seem to be crossing this forest?”
To which the courier, in a dreadful, brash voice, responded:
“I am the devil; I am looking for Don Quixote of La Mancha; the people coming through here are six troops of enchanters who bear the peerless Dulcinea of Toboso on a triumphal carriage. Enchanted, she comes with the gallant Frenchman Montesinos, to instruct Don Quixote as to how the lady is to be disenchanted.”
“If you were the devil, as you say and as your figure suggests, you would have known the knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, for you have him here before you.”
“By God and my conscience,” responded the devil, “I wasn’t really thinking; my thoughts are distracted by so many things that I forgot the principal reason for my being here.”
“There can be no doubt,” said Sancho, “that this demon is a decent man and a good Christian, because otherwise he wouldn’t swear by God and my conscience. Now I think there must be good people even down in hell.”
Then the demon, without dismounting, directed his gaze at Don Quixote and said:
“To you, Knight of the Lions (and may I see you in their claws), I am sent by the unfortunate but valiant knight Montesinos, who has ordered me to tell you on his behalf that you should wait for him in the place where I encountered you, because he brings with him the one they call Dulcinea of Toboso, and he will instruct you on what is needed to disenchant her. And since I came here with no other purpose, I need stay no longer: may demons like me be with you, and good angels with these nobles.”
And having said this, he blew on the enormous horn, turned his back, and left, not waiting for anyone’s reply.
This caused new amazement in everyone, especially in Sancho and Don Quixote: in Sancho, when he saw that despite the truth, people insisted that Dulcinea was enchanted; in Don Quixote, because he could not be certain if what had happened to him in the Cave of Montesinos was true or not. And as he was lost in these thoughts, the duke said to him:
“Does your grace intend to wait, Señor Don Quixote?”
“How could I not?” he responded. “I shall wait here, intrepid and strong, though all of hell were to attack me.”
“Well, if I see another devil and hear another horn like that one, I wouldn’t wait here any more than I’d wait in Flanders,” said Sancho.
By now the night had grown even darker, and a good number of lights began to move through the forest, just as the dry exhalations of the earth move across the sky and to our eyes seem like shooting stars. At the same time a terrifying noise was heard, something like the one made by the solid wheels usually found on oxcarts, from whose harsh and constant screeching, they say, wolves and bears flee if there are any nearby when they pass. To this was added more tumult, another clamor that heightened all the others, which was that it really seemed that in the four corners of the forest four encounters or battles were taking place at the same time, because here the hard thunder of terrifying artillery sounded; there infinite muskets were being fired; the voices of the combatants cried out close by; the Muslim lelelíes were repeated in the distance.
Finally, the cornets, the animal horns, the hunting horns, the bugles, the trumpets, the drums, the artillery, the harquebuses, and above all, the awful noise of the carts together formed a sound so confused and horrible that Don Quixote had to summon all his valor to endure it; but Sancho’s courage plummeted and sent him, swooning, to the skirts of the duchess, who received him there and quickly ordered that water be thrown in his face. It was, and he regained consciousness