Don Quixote_ Translation by Edith Grossman (HarperCollins) - Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra [411]
CHAPTER XXXVII
In which the famous adventure of the Dolorous Duenna continues
The duke and the duchess were exceedingly glad to see how well Don Quixote was responding to their intentions, and at this point Sancho said:
“I wouldn’t want this Señora Duenna to put any obstacles in the way of the governorship I’ve been promised, because I heard a Toledan pharmacist, who could talk the way a goldfinch sings, say that whenever duennas were involved nothing good could happen. God save me, what bad things that pharmacist had to say about them! Which makes me think that since all duennas are annoying and impertinent no matter what their quality and condition may be, what will the dolorous ones be like, I mean this Countess Tres Faldas1 or Three Skirts or Three Trains? Where I come from, skirts and trains, trains and skirts, are all the same.”
“Be quiet, Sancho my friend,” said Don Quixote. “Since this duenna has come from such distant lands to find me, she cannot be one of those the pharmacist described, especially since she is a countess, and when countesses serve as duennas, they probably are serving queens and empresses, for in their own houses they are highborn ladies who are served by other duennas.”
To which Doña Rodríguez, who was present, responded:
“My lady the duchess has duennas in her service who could be countesses if fortune so desired, but laws go where kings command; let no one speak ill of duennas, in particular those who are old and maidens, for although I am not one of those, I clearly understand and grasp the advantage a maiden duenna has over one who is widowed; and the person who cut us down to size still has the scissors in his hand.”
“All the same,” replied Sancho, “there’s so much to cut in duennas, according to my barber, that it would be better not to stir the rice even if it sticks.”
“Squires,” responded Doña Rodríguez, “are always our enemies; since they haunt the antechambers and always see us, the times they’re not praying, which is most of the time, they spend gossiping about us, digging up our defects and burying our good names. Well, I swear to those fickle dimwits that no matter how much it grieves them, we have to live in the world, and in noble houses, even though we’re dying of hunger and cover our delicate or not so delicate flesh with a black mourning habit, just as a person may cover or conceal a dung heap with a tapestry on the day of a procession. By my faith, if I were permitted to, and if the time were right, I’d make people understand, not just those here but everyone in the world, how there is no virtue that cannot be found in a duenna.”
“I believe,” said the duchess, “that my good Doña Rodríguez is correct, absolutely correct, but she must wait for a more suitable time to defend herself and all other duennas, and so confound the poor opinion of that wicked pharmacist, and tear it out by the roots from the heart of the great Sancho Panza.”
To which Sancho responded:
“Ever since I’ve felt the pride of being a governor I’ve lost the foolish ideas of a squire, and I don’t care a fig for all the duennas in the world.”
They would have gone on with the duennaesque conversation if they had not heard the fife and drums begin to play again, leading them to assume that the Dolorous Duenna was coming in. The duchess asked the duke if it would be a good idea to go to receive her,