OR, DON Quixote's reverie. 37 



knight shades his eyes with his hand^ for the flood of light was^ at 

 first, blinding — he enters, and the columns close— he stands alone. 

 On a throne of crystal and ever-varying gems sat the fatal en- 

 chantress Pintiquinieslra ; the light of her face darkens the eye of 

 the knight, but he shrinks not ; a row of fairy forms stand on 

 each side of the throne, and with golden harps tune the loves of 

 Pintiquiniestra ; while the dull sound of falling waters adds to the 

 charm, and fills the knight with delicious sensations. There are no 

 lamps in the saloon, but from every side shine gems radiant as the 

 stars, that glance their lights into one vast lucid mirror, wherein 

 myriads of rays ever burning, concentrated, are reflected in one 

 burst of light upon the throne of the enchantress, who gazes on it; 

 Confused, but not dismayed, the knight advances. As he stands at 

 the foot of the throne, a fairy transparent sylph, more beautiful 

 than mortal creation, presents him with a crystal goblet of wine ; 

 he touches it with the cross-hilt of his good sword, and it flies into 

 a thousand stars. Pintiquiniestra frowns and the hall grows dark. 

 She stands up and beckons him to advance ; he gazes for a moment 

 on the bracelet of his Dulcinea, and ascending the steps of the 

 throne is seated by her side. Her hand that touches him is white 

 as the marble roof of the hall, but as cold as the coffin's lead. She 

 gazes upon the knight, but her glance burns with other fire than 

 that of love. The fairies sing the delights of love, but the strain 

 is wild as the blast. Pintiquiniestra, rising, beckons the knight ; 

 they pass through a crystal door into a garden — an Eden of plea- 

 sure surrounds him — flowers of every hue^ and fruit of every clime, 

 but the odour was that of dead and decaying leaves. Pintiquinies- 

 tra leads him to a bower; she smiles in the full effulgence of 

 her charms. Sir Knight, all that thou see'st is thine, wilt thou but 

 wed me. The Don starts, and, making the sign of the Cross, cries 

 " Sorceress, avaunt ! I dread not thee, but, by this good sword, 

 will deliver the peerless Dulcinea from thy power." An earth- 

 quake shakes the garden into one wild wilderness of wood and rocks 

 — the palace of Pintiquiniestra dissolves like the fabric of a dream. 

 As the knight rubs his eyes the roar of a dragon startles him from 

 his reverie, and, turning round, he lays his hand on the huge, rough 

 head of Sancho, who lies snoring on his shoulder. " Master of 

 mine," quoth Sancho, " think you that a man goes to sleep for the 

 pleasure of waking ?" " No, Sancho," replies his master, '* but 

 that I took thy head for that of the dragon of the giant Freston, 

 and truly thy noise was almost as horrible." 



Antonio had finished his song, and, with the goatherds, had de- 



