This dialogue of the valiant pair was very pleasant all this while to the duke and duchess, and the rest of the company; and now, at last, resolving to put an end to this extraordinary and well-contrived adventure, they set fire with some tow to Clavileño's tail; and, the horse being stuffed full of fireworks, burst presently into pieces, with a mighty noise, throwing Don Quixote and Sancho to the ground half scorched. By this time the Disconsolate Lady and bearded regiment vanished out of the garden, and all the rest, as if in a trance, lay flat upon the ground. Don Quixote and Sancho, sorely bruised, got up, amazed to find themselves in the same garden whence they took horse, and to see such a number of people lie on the ground. But their wonder was increased by the appearance of a large lance stuck in the ground, and a scroll of white parchment fastened to it by two green silken strings, with the following inscription upon it, in golden characters:—
"The renowned knight Don Quixote de la Mancha achieved the adventure of the Countess Trifaldi, otherwise called the Disconsolate Lady, and her companions, by solely attempting it. Malambruno is fully contented and satisfied. The waiting gentlewomen have lost their beards. King Clavijo and Queen Antonomasia have resumed their pristine shapes; and, when the squire's scourging shall be finished, the white dove shall escape the pernicious hawks that pursue her, and be lulled in the arms of her beloved. This is ordained by the Sage Merlin, proto-enchanter of enchanters."
Don Quixote, having read this document, clearly understood it to refer to Dulcinea's disenchantment, and rendered thanks to Heaven that he had achieved so great a feat with so little danger, and brought back to their former bloom the faces of the venerable waiting-women, who had now disappeared; and approaching the duke and duchess, who had not yet come to themselves, he took the duke by the hand: "Courage, courage, noble sir," cried he, "there is no danger; the adventure is finished without damage, as you may read it registered in that record."
The duke, as if he had been waked out of a sound sleep, recovered himself by degrees, as did the duchess and the rest of the company, who were lying prostrate in the garden, all of them acting the surprise and fear so naturally that the jest might have been believed earnest. The duke with half-closed eyes read the scroll; then, embracing Don Quixote, extolled him as the bravest knight the earth had ever possessed. As for Sancho, he was looking up and down for the Disconsolate Lady, to see what sort of a face she had got, without her beard. But he was informed that as Clavileño came down flaming in the air, the whole squadron of women with Trifaldi vanished immediately, but all of them shaved and without a hair upon their faces.
The duchess asked Sancho how he had fared in his long voyage? "Why, truly, madam," answered he, "when, as my master told me, we were flying through the region of fire, I wished to uncover my eyes a little, but my master would not suffer me to do so; yet, as I have a spice of curiosity still hankering after what is forbidden me, I shoved my handkerchief a little above my nose and looked down, and, as it seemed, spied the earth no bigger than a mustard seed; and the men walking to and fro upon it not much larger than hazelnuts; by which you may see how high we had got!"—"Have a care what you say, my friend," said the duchess; "for if the men were bigger than hazelnuts, and the earth no bigger than a mustard seed, one man must cover the whole earth."—"Like enough," answered Sancho; "but for all that, do you see, I saw it with a kind of a side look upon one part of it."—"Look you, Sancho," replied the duchess, "nothing can be wholly seen by a partial view of it."—"Well, well, madam," quoth Sancho, "I do not understand your views; I only know that as we flew by enchantment, so, by enchantment, I might see the whole earth, and all the men, which way soever I looked. If you do not believe this, you will not believe me either when I tell you that when I looked between my brows, I saw myself so near heaven, that between me and it there was not a span and a half. And, forsooth, it is a huge place! and we happened to travel that road where the seven she-goats are; and, faith and troth, I had such a mind to play with them (having been once a goatherd myself) that I should have burst, had I not done it. What do I do then but slip down very soberly from Clavileño without telling a soul, and played and leaped about for three-quarters of an hour, with the pretty nanny-goats, who are like so many marigolds or gilly-flowers; and Clavileño stirred not one step all the while."—"And while Sancho employed himself with the goats," asked the duke, "how was Don Quixote employed?"—"Truly," answered the knight, "I am sensible all things were altered from their natural course; therefore, what Sancho says seems no marvel to me. But, for my own part, I saw nothing either above or below, neither heaven nor earth, sea nor shore. I perceived, indeed, we passed through the region of the air, and even touched that of fire, but that we went beyond it is incredible; for, the fiery region lying between the sphere of the moon and the upper region of the air, it was impossible for us to reach that heaven where are the seven goats, as Sancho says, without being consumed; and, therefore, since we were not singed, Sancho either lies or dreams."—"I neither lie nor dream," replied Sancho; "do but ask me the marks of these goats, and by them you will see whether I speak truth or no."—"Prithee tell them, Sancho," said the duchess. "There were two of them green," answered Sancho, "two carnation, two blue, and one party-colored."—"That is a new kind of goats," said the duke. "We have none of those colors in our region of the earth."— "Sure, sir," replied Sancho, "you will make some sort of difference between heavenly she-goats and the goats of this world?"—"But, Sancho," said the duke, "among these she-goats did you ever see a he-goat." "Not one, sir," answered Sancho; "and I have been told that none has ever passed beyond the horns of the moon."
They did not think fit to ask Sancho more about his voyage; for they judged he would ramble all over the heavens, and tell them news of whatever was doing there, though he had not stirred out of the garden.
Thus ended, in short, the adventure of the Disconsolate Lady, which afforded sport to the duke and duchess, not only for the present, but for the rest of their lives; and to Sancho matter of talk for ages, should he live so long.
"Sancho," said Don Quixote, whispering him in the ear, "if thou wouldst have us believe what thou hast seen in heaven, I desire thee to believe what I saw in Montesinos's cave. I say no more."