and white pebbles, hastened to pay their tribute
to the expectant rivers; the glad earth, the unclouded sky, the fresh
breeze, the clear light, each and all showed that the day that came
treading on the skirts of morning would be calm and bright. The duke and
duchess, pleased with their hunt and at having carried out their plans so
cleverly and successfully, returned to their castle resolved to follow up
their joke; for to them there was no reality that could afford them more
amusement.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

WHEREIN IS RELATED THE STRANGE AND UNDREAMT-OF ADVENTURE OF THE
DISTRESSED DUENNA, ALIAS THE COUNTESS TRIFALDI, TOGETHER WITH A LETTER
WHICH SANCHO PANZA WROTE TO HIS WIFE, TERESA PANZA

The duke had a majordomo of a very facetious and sportive turn, and he it
was that played the part of Merlin, made all the arrangements for the
late adventure, composed the verses, and got a page to represent
Dulcinea; and now, with the assistance of his master and mistress, he got
up another of the drollest and strangest contrivances that can be
imagined.

The duchess asked Sancho the next day if he had made a beginning with his
penance task which he had to perform for the disenchantment of Dulcinea.
He said he had, and had given himself five lashes overnight.

The duchess asked him what he had given them with.

He said with his hand.

"That," said the duchess, "is more like giving oneself slaps than lashes;
I am sure the sage Merlin will not be satisfied with such tenderness;
worthy Sancho must make a scourge with claws, or a cat-o'-nine tails,
that will make itself felt; for it's with blood that letters enter, and
the release of so great a lady as Dulcinea will not be granted so
cheaply, or at such a paltry price; and remember, Sancho, that works of
charity done in a lukewarm and half-hearted way are without merit and of
no avail."

To which Sancho replied, "If your ladyship will give me a proper scourge
or cord, I'll lay on with it, provided it does not hurt too much; for you
must know, boor as I am, my flesh is more cotton than hemp, and it won't
do for me to destroy myself for the good of anybody else."

"So be it by all means," said the duchess; "tomorrow I'll give you a
scourge that will be just the thing for you, and will accommodate itself
to the tenderness of your flesh, as if it was its own sister."

Then said Sancho, "Your highness must know, dear lady of my soul, that I
have a letter written to my wife,