be taken in the convent; and watching a time when the
porter’s lodge was open he left two to guard
the gate, and he and the other entered the convent
in quest of Luscinda, whom they found in the cloisters
in conversation with one of the nuns, and carrying
her off without giving her time to resist, they reached
a place with her where they provided themselves with
what they required for taking her away; all which
they were able to do in complete safety, as the convent
was in the country at a considerable distance from
the city. He added that when Luscinda found herself
in his power she lost all consciousness, and after
returning to herself did nothing but weep and sigh
without speaking a word; and thus in silence and tears
they reached that inn, which for him was reaching
heaven where all the mischances of earth are over and
at an end.
IN WHICH IS CONTINUED THE STORY OF THE FAMOUS PRINCESS MICOMICONA, WITH
OTHER DROLL ADVENTURES
To all this Sancho listened with no little sorrow
at heart to see how his hopes of dignity were fading
away and vanishing in smoke, and how the fair Princess
Micomicona had turned into Dorothea, and the giant
into Don Fernando, while his master was sleeping tranquilly,
totally unconscious of all that had come to pass.
Dorothea was unable to persuade herself that her present
happiness was not all a dream; Cardenio was in a similar
state of mind, and Luscinda’s thoughts ran in
the same direction. Don Fernando gave thanks
to Heaven for the favour shown to him and for having
been rescued from the intricate labyrinth in which
he had been brought so near the destruction of his
good name and of his soul; and in short everybody
in the inn was full of contentment and satisfaction
at the happy issue of such a complicated and hopeless
business. The curate as a sensible man made sound
reflections upon the whole affair, and congratulated
each upon his good fortune; but the one that was in
the highest spirits and good humour was the landlady,
because of the promise Cardenio and the curate had
given her to pay for all the losses and damage she
had sustained through Don Quixote’s means.
Sancho, as has been already said, was the only one
who was distressed, unhappy, and dejected; and so
with a long face he went in to his master, who had
just awoke, and said to him:
“Sir Rueful Countenance, your worship may as
well sleep on as much as you like, without troubling
yourself about killing any giant or restoring her
kingdom to the princess; for that is all over and settled
now.”
“I should think it was,” replied Don Quixote,
“for I have had the most prodigious and stupendous
battle with the giant that I ever remember having
had all the days of my life; and with one back-stroke-swish!—I
brought his head tumbling to the ground, and so much
blood gushed forth from him that it ran in rivulets
over the earth like water.”
