who was highly delighted
with it. They dined, and after the cloth had been removed and they had
amused themselves for a while with Sancho's rich conversation, the
melancholy sound of a fife and harsh discordant drum made itself heard.
All seemed somewhat put out by this dull, confused, martial harmony,
especially Don Quixote, who could not keep his seat from pure
disquietude; as to Sancho, it is needless to say that fear drove him to
his usual refuge, the side or the skirts of the duchess; and indeed and
in truth the sound they heard was a most doleful and melancholy one.
While they were still in uncertainty they saw advancing towards them
through the garden two men clad in mourning robes so long and flowing
that they trailed upon the ground. As they marched they beat two great
drums which were likewise draped in black, and beside them came the fife
player, black and sombre like the others. Following these came a
personage of gigantic stature enveloped rather than clad in a gown of the
deepest black, the skirt of which was of prodigious dimensions. Over the
gown, girdling or crossing his figure, he had a broad baldric which was
also black, and from which hung a huge scimitar with a black scabbard and
furniture. He had his face covered with a transparent black veil, through
which might be descried a very long beard as white as snow. He came on
keeping step to the sound of the drums with great gravity and dignity;
and, in short, his stature, his gait, the sombreness of his appearance
and his following might well have struck with astonishment, as they did,
all who beheld him without knowing who he was. With this measured pace
and in this guise he advanced to kneel before the duke, who, with the
others, awaited him standing. The duke, however, would not on any account
allow him to speak until he had risen. The prodigious scarecrow obeyed,
and standing up, removed the veil from his face and disclosed the most
enormous, the longest, the whitest and the thickest beard that human eyes
had ever beheld until that moment, and then fetching up a grave, sonorous
voice from the depths of his broad, capacious chest, and fixing his eyes
on the duke, he said:

"Most high and mighty senor, my name is Trifaldin of the White Beard; I
am squire to the Countess Trifaldi, otherwise called the Distressed
Duenna, on whose behalf I bear a message to your highness, which is that
your magnificence will be pleased to grant her leave and permission