Maritornes felt sure that Don Quixote would present the hand she had

asked, and making up her mind what to do, she got down from the hole and

went into the stable, where she took the halter of Sancho Panza's ass,

and in all haste returned to the hole, just as Don Quixote had planted

himself standing on Rocinante's saddle in order to reach the grated

window where he supposed the lovelorn damsel to be; and giving her his

hand, he said, "Lady, take this hand, or rather this scourge of the

evil-doers of the earth; take, I say, this hand which no other hand of

woman has ever touched, not even hers who has complete possession of my

entire body. I present it to you, not that you may kiss it, but that you

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may observe the contexture of the sinews, the close network of the

muscles, the breadth and capacity of the veins, whence you may infer what

must be the strength of the arm that has such a hand."

"That we shall see presently," said Maritornes, and making a running knot

on the halter, she passed it over his wrist and coming down from the hole

tied the other end very firmly to the bolt of the door of the straw-loft.

Don Quixote, feeling the roughness of the rope on his wrist, exclaimed,

"Your grace seems to be grating rather than caressing my hand; treat it

not so harshly, for it is not to blame for the offence my resolution has

given you, nor is it just to wreak all your vengeance on so small a part;

remember that one who loves so well should not revenge herself so

cruelly."

But there was nobody now to listen to these words of Don Quixote's, for

as soon as Maritornes had tied him she and the other made off, ready to

die with laughing, leaving him fastened in such a way that it was

impossible for him to release himself.

He was, as has been said, standing on Rocinante, with his arm passed

through the hole and his wrist tied to the bolt of the door, and in

mighty fear and dread of being left hanging by the arm if Rocinante were

to stir one side or the other; so he did not dare to make the least

movement, although from the patience and imperturbable disposition of

Rocinante, he had good reason to expect that he would stand without

budging for a whole century. Finding himself fast, then, and that the

ladies had retired, he began to fancy that all this was done by

enchantment, as on the former occasion when in that same castle that

enchanted Moor of a carrier had belaboured him; and he cursed in his

heart his own want of sense and judgment in venturing to enter the castle

again, after having come off so badly the first time; it being a settled

point with knights-errant that when they have tried an adventure, and

have not succeeded in it, it is a sign that it is not reserved for them

but for others, and that therefore they need not try it again.

Nevertheless he pulled his arm to see if he could release himself, but it

had been made so fast that all his efforts were in vain. It is true he

pulled it gently lest Rocinante should move, but try as he might to seat

himself in the saddle, he had nothing for it but to stand upright or pull

his hand off. Then it was he wished for the sword of Amadis, against

which no enchantment whatever had any power; then he cursed his ill

fortune; then he magnified the loss the world would sustain by his

absence while he remained there enchanted, for that he believed he was

beyond all doubt; then he once more took to thinking of his beloved

Dulcinea del Toboso; then he called to his worthy squire Sancho Panza,

who, buried in sleep and stretched upon the pack-saddle of his ass, was

oblivious, at that moment, of the mother that bore him; then he called

upon the sages Lirgandeo and Alquife to come to his aid; then he invoked

his good friend Urganda to succour him; and then, at last, morning found

him in such a state of desperation and perplexity that he was bellowing

like a bull, for he had no hope that day would bring any relief to his

suffering, which he believed would last for ever, inasmuch as he was

enchanted; and of this he was convinced by seeing that Rocinante never

stirred, much or little, and he felt persuaded that he and his horse were

to remain in this state, without eating or drinking or sleeping, until

the malign influence of the stars was overpast, or until some other more

sage enchanter should disenchant him.




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