Of Don Quixote's Adventure with a Fair Huntress
SANCHO left the river Ebro with no regrets, except for the fifty reals just paid to the fishermen. He was seriously considering in his own mind the foolishness of remaining a squire to such a mad master as his. But late the following afternoon they approached a field, and suddenly Don Quixote discovered in the distance a number of people, and as they came closer they found it was a hawking party.
Seeing in the party a lady with a hawk on her left hand, and dressed so richly that Sancho said he had never seen anything so fine in his life, Don Quixote decided that she must be some lady of great distinction. Therefore he dispatched his squire with a message to her, asking her for permission to kiss her hand in person. He instructed Sancho to be particularly careful not to dispense any of his proverbs to the lady; but Sancho said he could do without this warning, for had he not carried messages before to the exalted Dulcinea, the highest lady of them all?
Soon Don Quixote saw his squire kneeling before the lady. Having given her his life's history and told her his name, Sancho proceeded with the message of his master, the valiant Knight of the Lions, formerly the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, explicitly explaining his master's modest desire. The lady, who was no other than a duchess, at once was interested, as she had read and laughed over the first volume of "The Ingenious Gentleman, Don Quixote of La Mancha"; and she immediately asked Sancho to return to his master and say that she would be delighted beyond words to have the worthy knight and his squire come and be her and the Duke's guests at a country place they had there.
Sancho was so flattered that the Duchess had recognized him from having read the book, and so pleased with the reception she had given him, as well as so taken by her great charm and beauty that he could not get back to his master quickly enough to tell him the good news. With his best manner and bearing Don Quixote, attended by his faithful one, rode into the presence of the august lady, and kissed her hand.
But while Sancho was on his way to his master with the Duchess' message, she had sent for the Duke, and they had arranged, both being gifted with a remarkable sense of humor, to receive and entertain the hero in true knight-errant fashion. Having read all the tales of chivalry, they knew exactly what to do.
Don Quixote was about to dismount, when he had kissed the Duchess' hand; and Sancho, as was his custom, wanted to get off Dapple in a hurry and hold his stirrup, as soon as he perceived his master's intention. But luck would have it that one of his legs caught in the trappings, and he fell head first towards the ground. There the poor squire hung, unable to get up or down, caught by the foot. Now, when Don Quixote, his eyes fixedly and courteously on the Duchess, thought that his squire was there with the stirrup, he pressed downward with all his weight, and knight and saddle both flew high in the air off Rocinante. When Don Quixote had reached earth, he lay there, writhing in pain and cursing and swearing at his stupid squire, who was still hanging by his foot.
The Duke and the Duchess, unable to constrain themselves at the amusing scene, finally were able through their laughter to order their huntsmen to their help; and, limping, the knight advanced to do homage to the Duke and his consort on his damaged knees. The Duke, however, nobly refused such honor, and instead, embraced the knight. He then regretted in a few well chosen words the knight's accident; but Don Quixote replied with an exalted speech, saying that if he had fallen to the depths of the bottomless pit, the glory of having seen such a noble and worthy pair would have lifted him up. Then, of course, he said something uncomplimentary about his squire, who did not know how to tighten the girths of a saddle, although he could not help giving him credit for having a loose tongue.
But when the knight began to praise the beauty of the Duchess, the Duke asked him courteously whether there were not others to praise, as, for instance, his own Lady Dulcinea. At this Don Quixote offered the Duchess his services for a few days, together with those of his squire, Sancho Panza, whom he now took pity on and praised as being the drollest squire in the world. Whereupon the Duchess flattered Sancho, saying that if he were droll, she was sure he was shrewd as well; but Don Quixote broke in and added that he was talkative. When the knight, having heard himself addressed as the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, begged to correct it to the Knight of the Lions, the Duke asked him to relate the episode that thus changed his title. And then he invited all to come to the castle to be present at a reception that he would give to their great and distinguished guest.
With the Duchess in the middle, flanked by Don Quixote and the Duke, the whole company headed for the castle; but it was not long before the Duchess found her desire for conversation with the droll and amusing Sancho irresistible. As soon as the Duchess' wish was made known to him, the squire eagerly wedged his way between the horses and chattered his way into the lady's good graces.