In Which Camacho's Wedding Is Continued, with Other Delightful Incidents
SANCHO was still eating when suddenly loud exclamations and shouts were heard; and when he and Don Quixote looked to see what was the matter, they found that the bride and the bridegroom, accompanied by the priest and their relatives, were entering the arcade. They proceeded to a platform, on which they took places, and all noticed that the bride looked very pale. Scarcely had the bridal party seated themselves, when a voice was heard from behind them, calling out: "Wait a little, ye, as inconsiderate as ye are hasty!"
All turned and perceived Basilio, poorly clad, with a crown of cypress on his head, and carrying a staff in his hand. The staff had a sharp end, and this he buried deep in the ground; then, pale and trembling, he turned to the fair Quiteria and accused her of marrying Camacho because of his wealth, though she knew she loved no one but himself, Basilio, who was poor, and, therefore, helpless. As he nevertheless wished them happiness, he would now remove the last obstacle to this end.
So saying, Basilio pulled from the staff he carried and which served as a sheath, a rapier, upon which in another instant he had thrown himself. There he lay on the ground, bleeding profusely, the point of the blade appearing through his back, when his many friends came running to give him aid. Don Quixote lifted up his head, and they found that he was still breathing. Some one suggested that they pull out the blade, but the priest warned them not to do that before the poor man had been given the sacrament, as the moment the rapier was removed, death would follow.
Just then Basilio was heard to say in a weak voice that if he could only be joined to his beloved one, he would die happy. The priest cautioned him to think of his soul rather than of his body in these last moments of his, but Basilio interrupted him stubbornly and said he would not confess until this had been done. When Don Quixote heard the dying man implore the priest to carry out his wish, he, too, besought him, and added that under the circumstances Señor Camacho could have nothing against marrying a widow of a man who had died so gallantly and honorably as Basilio. Camacho heard all this, and when Basilio's friends at the same time entreated him to think of the poor man's soul, he consented; and as Quiteria, too, was compassionate, the priest united them as man and wife, gave them his blessing with tears in his eyes, and hoped that Heaven would receive the soul of the wedded man.
But the instant the ceremony was at an end, the suicide jumped to his feet as lightly as a deer. Some began to shout that a miracle had been performed. But Basilio was honest and confessed that he had played a trick; and, indeed, it seemed as if the whole thing had been planned by the two lovers, for Quiteria said that if the marriage was not valid, she would now confirm it anew. Some of Camacho's friends became violent and threatened the life of Basilio, but the valiant Don Quixote did not abandon his new-found friend; he kept them all at a distance with his lance and his sword.
In the meantime Sancho was guarding a spot that to his mind was the most important one there, namely where the wine-jars were standing.
When Don Quixote had made himself respected by the followers of the rich Camacho, he addressed them on the subject of love and war, and held forth to them that all means to an end in these two games were justifiable, as long as no disgrace was brought on the object of one's love. Then he threatened to thrash any one who attempted to separate whom God now had joined; and they were all awed by his resolute language, not knowing who he was. Camacho showed that he was of good mettle, however, for he invited all to remain and have a merry time, and let the feast go on as if nothing had happened.
But Basilio was proud, and so were his friends, and they preferred to withdraw to Basilio's village. They were accompanied by Don Quixote, whom they had invited as a special guest of honor because of his stout defense of Basilio; and Sancho, of course, had to trail along, much to his disgust, for he had looked forward to stilling his hunger for days to come on the remnants of the rich man's wedding-feast. As he was rocking to and fro in his seat on his faithful Dapple, he was contemplating with a surly and melancholy countenance a glorious, but now past day.