In a lengthy speech delivered to a group of perplexed but kind goatherds, Don Quixote employs allegory and allusion in order to describe the relative peace and prosperity of the so-called Golden Age:
Justice kept within her own bounds, and favour and interest, which now depreciate, confound and persecute her, did not dare assail or disturb her. As yet the judge could not make his whim the measure of the law, because there was nothing to judge and nobody to be judged. Maidens and modesty roamed, as I have said, wherever they wished, alone and mistresses of themselves, without fear of harm from others’ intemperance and lewd designs [...] And now, in these detestable times of ours, no maiden is safe, even if she is hidden away in the depths of another Cretan labyrinth.
Here, Quixote invokes a traditional allegorical figure, describing the abstract concept of “Justice” as a female goddess who rules over the land. In the Golden Age, Quixote claims, Justice “kept within her own bounds” and was, in turn, left alone by “favour and interest,” factors that sway justice in the present day. Further, “Maidens” were able to go “wherever they wished” without “fear of harm” from the “lewd designs” of others. In comparison, he notes, women in his own day are never “safe” even if “hidden away in the depths of another Cretan labyrinth.” Here, he alludes to a well-known myth in which King Minos of Crete constructed a labyrinth to house the minotaur, a monster with the head and tail of a bull and the body of a man. Quixote’s allusion, then, underscores the serious risks of gendered violence faced by women in his day and imagines a more harmonious past in which women experienced greater safety and freedom.
Attempting to cheer up Don Quixote after his defeat by the Knight of the White Moon and subsequent retirement from knight errantry for a year, Sancho Panza invokes the well-known allegorical figure of Fortune:
It’s up to brave hearts, sir, to be patient when things are going badly, as well as being happy when they’re going well – and that I know from my own experience, because when I was a governor I was happy and now that I’m a squire on foot I’m not sad. For I’ve heard say that what they call fortune is a flighty woman who drinks too much, and, what’s more, she’s blind, so she can’t see what she’s doing, and she doesn’t know who she’s knocking over or who she’s raising up.
Drawing upon the conventional allegorical image of Fortune as a blind and promiscuous woman, Sancho argues that outcomes in life are often random rather than morally meaningful. Those who are unworthy, he suggests, are raised "up" and the deserving are instead toppled over. Because she is a "flighty woman who drinks too much," she fails to distinguish between the good and the bad, meaning that one can never be sure of their future, regardless of their merits or weaknesses. Sancho invokes this allegory of Fortune in order to encourage Quixote to be just as "happy" when "things are going badly" as he is "when they're going well," since one experiences both states in the course of their life.