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or at least beside your bed,

where I could scratch your dear head

and shake dandruff from your hair!

I ask for much but am not worthy

of so notable a boon:

I should like to rub your feet;

that’s enough for a humble maid.

O, what fine caps I would give you,

and oh, what gaiters of silver,

and oh, what breeches of damask,

and oh, what short capes of linen!

And then the most lustrous pearls,

each one as big as a gallnut,

and if they had no companions,

they’d be called the Only Ones!5

Look not from your Tarpeian Rock6 upon the fire that burns me,

Manchegan Nero of the world,

nor fan it with cruelty.

I am a girl, a tender maid,

no more than fifteen years old:

I am fourteen and three months,

I swear by God and my soul.

I am not lame, I do not limp,

I am not deformed or maimed;

my hair is like fairest lilies,

touching the floor when I stand.

And though my mouth is aquiline

and my nose is rather blunt,

I have teeth of topaz, raising

my beauty up to high heaven.

My voice, as you’ll see, just listen,

as sweet as the sweetest tone,

and my nature and appearance,

something less than only middling.

All these and my other graces

are the spoils won by your arrows;

I am a maiden of this house;

I am called Altisidora.

Here the song of the afflicted Altisidora came to an end, and here began the astonishment of the fervently wooed Don Quixote, who heaved a great sigh and said to himself:

“Why must I be so unfortunate a knight that no maiden can look upon me without falling in love…! Why must the peerless Dulcinea of Toboso be so unlucky that she cannot be permitted to enjoy my incomparable firmness of purpose…! O queens, what do you wish of her? O empresses, why do you pursue her? O maidens of fourteen to fifteen years old, why do you harass her? Oh, allow her, allow the wretched lady to tri-umph and delight and take pride in the good fortune that Love wished to grant her by giving her my heart and presenting her with my soul. Remember, all you enamored ladies, that for Dulcinea alone I am as soft as sugar paste, and for all the rest I am as hard as flint; for her I am honey, and for you, bitter aloe; for me, only Dulcinea is beautiful, wise, modest, gallant, and wellborn, and the rest are ugly, foolish, licentious, and of the worst lineage; to be hers alone, and no other’s, nature cast me into the world. Let Altisidora weep or sing; let the lady despair on whose account I was beaten in the castle of the enchanted Moor; for I must belong to Dulcinea, boiled or roasted, clean, wellborn, and chaste, despite all the powers of sorcery in the world.”

And with this he slammed the window shut, and as indignant and sorrowful as if some great calamity had befallen him he lay down in his bed, where we shall leave him for now because we are being summoned by the great Sancho Panza, who wishes to begin his famous governorship.

CHAPTER XLV

Regarding how the great Sancho Panza took possession of his ínsula, and the manner in which he began to govern

O perpetual discloser of the Antipodes, torch of the world, eye of heaven, sweet movement of cooling decanters,1 here Thymbraeus, there Phoebus, here an archer, there a healer. Father of Poetry, Inventor of Music,2 you who always rise and never set, although you seem to! To you, I say, O Sun, with whose help man engenders man,3 to you I say that you ought to favor me and illuminate the dimness of my wits so that they may touch upon every point in the narration of the governorship of the great Sancho Panza, for without you I feel weak, fainthearted, and confused.

I say, then, that with all his retinue Sancho came to a village with some thousand inhabitants, which was one of the best owned by the duke. They gave him to understand that it was called the Ínsula Barataria, either because the village was named Baratario or because he had been given the governorship at so little cost.4 When they reached the gates, for it was a walled town, the village councilmen came out to receive him; the bells were rung, and all the inhabitants displayed