¡¶ÌüªÚ­µÂ¡· µÚ1Ò³ ¡¶ÌüªÚ­µÂ£¨Ó¢Îİ棩¡·×÷Õߣº[Î÷°àÑÀ]ÈûÍòÌá˹¡¾Íê½á¡¿ ¡¾ ²åpter i which treats of the ²åracter and pursuits of the famous gentlemandon quixote of man²å in a vige of man²å, the name of which i have no desire tocall to mind, there lived not long since one of those gentlemen thatkeep ance in thence-rack, an old buckler, a lean hack, and agreyhound for coursing. an o of rather more beef than mutton, asd on most nights, scraps on saturdays, lentils on fridays, and apigeon or so extra on sundays, made away with three-quarters of hisie. the rest of it went in a doublet of fine cloth and velvetbreeches and shoes to match for holidays, while on week-days he made abrave figure in his best homespun. he had in his house a housekeeperpast forty, a niece under twenty, and ad for the field andmarket-ce, who used to saddle the hack as well as handle thebill-hook. the age of this gentleman of ours was bordering on fifty;he was of a hardy habit, spare, gaunt-featured, a very early riser anda great sportsman. they will have it his surname was quixada orquesada £¨for here there is some difference of opinion among theauthors who write on the subject£©£¬ although from reasonableconjectures it seems in that he was called quexana. this,however, is of but little importance to our tale; it will be enoughnot to stray a hairs breadth from the truth in the telling of it. you must know, then, that the above-named gentleman whenever hewas at leisure £¨which was mostly all the year round£© gave himself upto reading books of chivalry with such ardour and avidity that healmost entirely neglected the pursuit of his field-sports, and eventhe management of his property; and to such a pitch did hiseagerness and infatuation go that he sold many an acre oftignd to buy books of chivalry to read, and brought home as manyof them as he could get. but of all there were none he liked so wes those of the famous feliciano de silvasposition, for theirlucidity of style andplicated conceits were as pearls in hissight, particrly when in his reading he came upon courtships andcartels, where he often found passages like "the reason of theunreason with which my reason is afflicted so weakens my reason thatwith reason i murmur at your beauty;" or again, "the high heavens,that of your divinity divinely fortify you with the stars, renderyou deserving of the desert your greatness deserves." over conceits ofthis sort the poor gentleman lost his wits, and used to lie awakestriving to understand them and worm the meaning out of them; whataristotle himself could not have made out or extracted had heeto life again for that special purpose. he was not at all easy aboutthe wounds which don belianis gave and took, because it seemed tohim that, great as were the surgeons who had cured him, he must havehad his face and body covered all over with seams and scars. hmended, however, the authors way of ending his book with thepromise of that interminable adventure, and many a time was he temptedto take up his pen and finish it properly as is there proposed,which no doubt he would have done, and made a sessful piece of workof it too, had not greater and more absorbing thoughts prevented him. many an argument did he have with the curate of his vige £¨alearned man, and a graduate of siguenza£© as to which had been thebetter knight, palmerin of ennd or amadis of gaul. master nichs,the vige barber, however, used to say that neither of them cameup to the knight of phoebus, and that if there was any that coulpare with him it was don gor, the brother of amadis of gaul,because he had a spirit that was equal to every asion, and was nofinikin knight, norchrymose like his brother, while in the matterof valour he was not a whit behind him. in short, he became soabsorbed in his books that he spent his nights from sunset to sunrise,and his days from dawn to dark, poring over them; and what with littlesleep and much reading his brains got so dry that he lost his wits.his fancy grew full of what he used to read about in his books,en²åntments, quarrels, battles, ²ållenges, wounds, wooings, loves,agonies, and all sorts of impossible nonsense; and it so possessed hismind that the whole fabric of invention and fancy he read of was true,that to him no history in the world had more reality in it. he used tosay the cid ruy diaz was a very good knight, but that he was not to bpared with the knight of the burning sword who with one back-strokecut in half two fierce and monstrous giants. he thought more ofbernardo del carpio because at roncesvalles he slew rnd in spite ofen²åntments, availing himself of the artifice of hercules when hestrangled antaeus the son of terra in his arms. he approved highlyof the giant morgante, because, although of the giant breed which isalways arrogant and ill-conditioned, he alone was affable andwell-bred. but above all he admired reinaldos of montalban, especiallywhen he saw him sallying forth from his castle and robbing everyone hemet, and when beyond the seas he stole that image of mahomet which, ashis history says, was entirely of gold. to have a bout of kicking atthat traitor of a ganelon he would have given his housekeeper, and hisniece into the bargain. in short, his wits being quite gone, he hit upon the strangestnotion that ever madman in this world hit upon, and that was that hefancied it was right and requisite, as well for the support of his ownhonour as for the service of his country, that he should make aknight-errant of himself, roaming the world over in full armour and onhorseback in quest of adventures, and putting in practice himselfall that he had read of as being the usual practices ofknights-errant; righting every kind of wrong, and exposing himselfto peril and danger from which, in the issue, he was to reap eternalrenown and fame. already the poor man saw himself crowned by the mightof his arm emperor of trebizond at least; and so, led away by theintense enjoyment he found in these pleasant fancies, he set himselfforthwith to put his scheme into execution. the first thing he did was to clean up some armour that had belongedto his great-grandfather, and had been for ages lying forgotten in acorner eaten with rust and covered with mildew. he scoured andpoliÉäd it as best he could, but he perceived one great defect in it,that it had no closed helmet, nothing but a simple morion. thisdeficiency, however, his ingenuity supplied, for he contrived a kindof half-helmet of pasteboard which, fitted on to the morion, lookedlike a whole one. it is true that, in order to see if it was strongand fit to stand a cut, he drew his sword and gave it a couple ofÉäs, the first of which undid in an instant what had taken him aweek to do. the ease with which he had knocked it to piecesdisconcerted him somewhat, and to guard against that danger he setto work again, fiÐÔ bars of iron on the inside until he wassatisfied with its strength; and then, not caring to try any moreexperiments with it, he passed it and adopted it as a helmet of themost perfect construction. he next proceeded to inspect his hack, which, with more quartos thana real and more blemiÉäs than the steed of gon, that "tantumpellis et ossa fuit," surpassed in his eyes the bucephalus ofalexander or the babieca of the cid. four days were spent inthinking what name to give him, because £¨as he said to himself£© it wasnot right that a horse belonging to a knight so famous, and one withsuch merits of his own, should be without some distinctive name, andhe strove to adapt it so as to indicate what he had been beforebelonging to a knight-errant, and what he then was; for it was onlyreasonable that, his master taking a new ²åracter, he should take anew name, and that it should be a distinguiÉäd and full-sounding one,befitting the new order and calling he was about to follow. and so,after havingposed, struck out, rejected, added to, unmade, andremade a multitude of names out of his memory and fancy, he decidedupon calling him rocinante, a name, to his thinking, lofty,sonorous, and significant of his condition as a hack before hebecame what he now was, the first and foremost of all the hacks in theworld. having got a name for his horse so much to his taste, he was anxiousto get one for himself, and he was eight days more pondering over thispoint, till atst he made up his mind to call himself "don quixote,"whence, as has been already said, the authors of this veracioushistory have inferred that his name must have been beyond a doubtquixada, and not quesada as others would have it. recollecting,however, that the valiant amadis was not content to call himselfcurtly amadis and nothing more, but added the name of his kingdomand country to make it famous, and called himself amadis of gaul,he, like a good knight, resolved to add on the name of his, and tostyle himself don quixote of man²å, whereby, he considered, hedescribed urately his origin and country, and did honour to it intaking his surname from it. so then, his armour being furbiÉäd, his morion turned into ahelmet, his hack christened, and he himself confirmed, he came tothe conclusion that nothing more was needed now but to look out forady to be in love with; for a knight-errant without love was like atree without leaves or fruit, or a body without a soul. as he saidto himself, "if, for my sins, or by my good fortune, ie acrosssome giant hereabouts, amon urrence with knights-errant, andoverthrow him in one onught, or cleave him asunder to the waist,or, in short, vanquish and subdue him, will it not be well to havesome one i may send him to as a present, that he maye in andfall on his knees before my sweetdy, and in a humble, submissivevoice say, i am the giant caraculiambro, lord of the ind ofmalindrania, vanquiÉäd in singlebat by the never sufficientlyextolled knight don quixote of man²å, who hasmanded me topresent myself before your grace, that your highness dispose of meat your pleasure?" oh, how our good gentleman enjoyed the delivery ofthis speech, especially when he had thought of some one to call hidy! there was, so the story goes, in a vige near his own a verygood-looking farm-girl with whom he had been at one time in love,though, so far as is known, Éä never knew it nor gave a thought tothe matter. her name was aldonza lorenzo, and upon her he thoughtfit to confer the title ofdy of his thoughts; and after some searchfor a name which should not be out of harmony with her own, and shouldsuggest and indicate that of a princess and greatdy, he decidedupon calling her dulcinea del toboso -Éä being of el toboso- aname, to his mind, musical, umon, and significant, like allthose he had already bestowed upon himself and the things belonging tohim.
µÚ2Ò³ ²åpter ii which treats of the first sally the ingenious don quixote madefrom home these preliminaries settled, he did not care to put off any longerthe execution of his design, urged on to it by the thought of allthe world was losing by his dy, seeing what wrongs he intended toright, grievances to redress, injustices to repair, abuses toremove, and duties to dis²årge. so, without giving notice of hisintention to anyone, and without anybody seeing him, one morningbefore the dawning of the day £¨which was one of the hottest of themonth of july£© he donned his suit of armour, mounted rocinante withhis patched-up helmet on, braced his buckler, took hisnce, and bythe back door of the yard sallied forth upon the in in thehighest contentment and satisfaction at seeing with what ease he hadmade a beginning with his grand purpose. but scarcely did he findhimself upon the open in, when a terrible thought struck him, oneall but enough to make him abandon the enterprise at the veryoutset. it urred to him that he had not been dubbed a knight, andthat ording to thew of chivalry he neither could nor ought tobear arms against any knight; and that even if he had been, still heought, as a novice knight, to wear white armour, without a device uponthe shield until by his prowess he had earned one. these reflectionsmade him waver in his purpose, but his craze being stronger than anyreasoning, he made up his mind to have himself dubbed a knight bythe first one he came across, following the example of others in thesame case, as he had read in the books that brought him to thispass. as for white armour, he resolved, on the first opportunity, toscour his until it was whiter than an ermine; and sofortinghimself he pursued his way, taking that which his horse chose, forin this he believedy the essence of adventures. thus setting out, our new-fledged adventurer paced along, talking tohimself and saying, "who knows but that in time toe, when theveracious history of my famous deeds is made known, the sage whowrites it, when he has to set forth my first sally in the earlymorning, will do it after this fashion? scarce had the rubicundapollo spread oer the face of the broad spacious earth the goldenthreads of his bright hair, scarce had the little birds of paintedplumage attuned their notes to hail with dulcet and mellifluousharmony theing of the rosy dawn, that, deserting the soft couch ofher jealous spouse, was appearing to mortals at the gates andbalconies of the manchegan horizon, when the renowned knight donquixote of man²å, quitting thezy down, mounted his celebratedsteed rocinante and began to traverse the ancient and famous campode montiel;" which in fact he was actually traversing. "happy theage, happy the time," he continued, "in which shall be made known mydeeds of fame, worthy to be moulded in brass, carved in marble, limnedin pictures, for a memorial for ever. and thou, o sage magician,whoever thou art, to whom it shall fall to be the chronicler of thiswondrous history, forget not, i entreat thee, my good rocinante, theconstantpanion of my ways and wanderings." presently he brokeout again, as if he were love-stricken in earnest, "o princessdulcinea,dy of this captive heart, a grievous wrong hast thoudone me to drive me forth with scorn, and with inexorable obduracybanish me from the presence of thy beauty. ody, deign to hold inremembrance this heart, thy vassal, that thus in anguish pines forlove of thee." so he went on stringing together these and other absurdities, all inthe style of those his books had taught him, imitating theinguage as well as he could; and all the while he rode so slowlyand the sun mounted so rapidly and with such fervour that it wasenough to melt his brains if he had any. nearly all day he travelledwithout anything remarkable happening to him, at which he was indespair, for he was anxious to encounter some one at once upon whom totry the might of his strong arm. writers there are who say the first adventure he met with was thatof puertopice; others say it was that of the windmills; but whati have ascertained on this point, and what i have found written in theannals of man²å, is that he was on the road all day, and towardsnightfall his hack and he found themselves dead tired and hungry,when, looking all around to see if he could discover any castle orÉäpherds shanty where he might refresh himself and relieve hissore wants, he perceived not far out of his road an inn, which wasas wee as a star guiding him to the portals, if not the pces,of his redemption; and quickening his pace he reached it just as nightwas setting in. at the door were standing two young women, girls ofthe district as they call them, on their way to seville with somecarriers who had ²ånced to halt that night at the inn; and as, happenwhat might to our adventurer, everything he saw or imaged seemed tohim to be and to happen after the fashion of what he read of, themoment he saw the inn he pictured it to himself as a castle with itsfour turrets and pinnacles of shining silver, not forgetting thedrawbridge and moat and all the belongings usually ascribed to castlesof the sort. to this inn, which to him seemed a castle, he advanced,and at a short distance from it he checked rocinante, hoping that somedwarf would show himself upon the battlements, and by sound of trumpetgive notice that a knight was approaching the castle. but seeingthat they were slow about it, and that rocinante was in a hurry toreach the stable, he made for the inn door, and perceived the twogay damsels who were standing there, and who seemed to him to be twofair maidens or lovelydies taking their ease at the castle gate. at this moment it so happened that a swineherd who was going throughthe stubbles collecting a drove of pigs £¨for, without any apology,that is what they are called£© gave a st of his horn to bring themtogether, and forthwith it seemed to don quixote to be what he wasexpecting, the signal of some dwarf announcing his arrival; and sowith prodigious satisfaction he rode up to the inn and to thdies, who, seeing a man of this sort approaching in full armourand withnce and buckler, were turning in dismay into the inn,when don quixote, guessing their fear by their flight, raising hispasteboard visor, disclosed his dry dusty visage, and with courteousbearing and gentle voice addressed them, "yourdyships need notfly or fear any rudeness, for that it belongs not to the order ofknighthood which i profess to offer to anyone, much less to highbornmaidens as your appearance proims you to be." the girls werelooking at him and straining their eyes to make out the features whichthe clumsy visor obscured, but when they heard themselves calledmaidens, a thing so much out of their line, they could not restraintheirughter, which made don quixote wax indignant, and say,"modesty bes the fair, and moreoverughter that has little causeis great silliness; this, however, i say not to pain or anger you, formy desire is none other than to serve you." the iprehensiblenguage and the unpromising looks of ourcavalier only increased thediesughter, and that increased hisirritation, and matters might have gone farther if at that momentthendlord had note out, who, being a very fat man, was a verypeaceful one. he, seeing this grotesque figure d in armour that didnot match any more than his saddle, bridle,nce, buckler, orcorselet, was not at all indisposed to join the damsels in theirmanifestations of amusement; but, in truth, standing in awe of su²åplicated armament, he thought it best to speak him fairly, sohe said, "senor caballero, if your worship wants lodging, bating thebed £¨for there is not one in the inn£© there is plenty of everythingelse here." don quixote, observing the respectful bearing of thealcaide of the fortress £¨for so innkeeper and inn seemed in his eyes£©£¬made answer, "sir casten, for me anything will suffice, for my armour is my only wear, my only rest the fray."the host fancied he called him casten because he took him for a"worthy of castile," though he was in fact an andalusian, and one fromthe strand of san lucar, as crafty a thief as cacus and as full oftricks as a student or a page. "in that case," said he, "your bed is on the flinty rock, your sleep to watch alway;and if so, you may dismount and safely reckon upon any quantity ofsleeplessness under this roof for a twelvemonth, not to say for asingle night." so saying, he advanced to hold the stirrup for donquixote, who got down with great difficulty and exertion £¨for he hadnot broken his fast all day£©£¬ and then ²årged the host to takegreat care of his horse, as he was the best bit of flesh that ever atebread in this world. thendlord eyed him over but did not find himas good as don quixote said, nor even half as good; and putting him upin the stable, he returned to see what might be wanted by his guest,whom the damsels, who had by this time made their peace with him, werenow relieving of his armour. they had taken off his breastte andbackpiece, but they neither knew nor saw how to open his gorget orremove his make-shift helmet, for he had fastened it with greenribbons, which, as there was no untying the knots, required to be cut.this, however, he would not by any means consent to, so he remainedall the evening with his helmet on, the drollest and oddest figurethat can be imagined; and while they were removing his armour,taking the baggages who were about it fordies of high degreebelonging to the castle, he said to them with great sprightliness: "oh, never, surely, was there knight
µÚ3Ò³ so served by hand of dame, as served was he, don quixote hight, when from his town he came; with maidens waiting on himself, princesses on his hack--or rocinante, for that,dies mine, is my horses name, and donquixote of man²å is my own; for though i had no intention ofdering myself until my achievements in your service and honourhad made me known, the necessity of adapting that old bad oncelot to the present asion has given you the knowledge of myname altogether prematurely. a time, however, wille for youdyships tomand and me to obey, and then the might of my arm willshow my desire to serve you." the girls, who were not used to hearing rhetoric of this sort, hadnothing to say in reply; they only asked him if he wanted anythingto eat. "i would dly eat a bit of something," said don quixote,"for i feel it woulde very seasonably." the day happened to be afriday, and in the whole inn there was nothing but some pieces ofthe fish they call in castile "abadejo," in andalusia "bacao,"and in some ces "curadillo," and in others "troutlet;" so theyasked him if he thought he could eat troutlet, for there was noother fish to give him. "if there be troutlets enough," said donquixote, "they will be the same thing as a trout; for it is all one tome whether i am given eight reals in small ²ånge or a piece of eight;moreover, it may be that these troutlets are like veal, which isbetter than beef, or kid, which is better than goat. but whatever itbe let ite quickly, for the burden and pressure of arms cannotbe borne without support to the inside." theyid a table for himat the door of the inn for the sake of the air, and the host broughthim a portion of ill-soaked and worse cooked stockfish, and a piece ofbread as ck and mouldy as his own armour; but aughable sightit was to see him eating, for having his helmet on and the beaverup, he could not with his own hands put anything into his mouth unlesssome one else ced it there, and this service one of thediesrendered him. but to give him anything to drink was impossible, orwould have been so had not thendlord bored a reed, and puttingone end in his mouth poured the wine into him through the other; allwhich he bore with patience rather than sever the ribbons of hiÉälmet. while this was going on there came up to the inn a sowgelder, who,as he approached, sounded his reed pipe four or five times, andtherebypletely convinced don quixote that he was in some famouscastle, and that they were regaling him with music, and that thestockfish was trout, the bread the whitest, the wenchesdies, andthendlord the casten of the castle; and consequently he heldthat his enterprise and sally had been to some purpose. but still itdistressed him to think he had not been dubbed a knight, for it wasin to him he could notwfully engage in any adventure withoutreceiving the order of knighthood. ²åpter iii wherein is rted the droll way in which don quixote had himselfdubbed a knight harassed by this reflection, he made haste with his scantypothouse supper, and having finiÉäd it called thendlord, andshutting himself into the stable with him, fell on his knees beforehim, saying, "from this spot i rise not, valiant knight, until yourcourtesy grants me the boon i seek, one that will redound to yourpraise and the benefit of the human race." thendlord, seeing hisguest at his feet and hearing a speech of this kind, stood staringat him in bewilderment, not knowing what to do or say, andentreating him to rise, but all to no purpose until he had agreed togrant the boon demanded of him. "i looked for no less, my lord, fromyour high magnificence," replied don quixote, "and i have to tellyou that the boon i have asked and your liberality has granted is thatyou shall dub me knight to-morrow morning, and that to-night i shallwatch my arms in the ²åpel of this your castle; thus tomorrow, as ihave said, will be apliÉäd what i so much desire, enabling mwfully to roam through all the four quarters of the world seekingadventures on behalf of those in distress, as is the duty ofchivalry and of knights-errant like myself, whose ambition is directedto such deeds." thendlord, who, as has been mentioned, was something of a wag,and had already some suspicion of his guests want of wits, wasquite convinced of it on hearing talk of this kind from him, and tomake sport for the night he determined to fall in with his humour.so he told him he was quite right in pursuing the object he had inview, and that such a motive was natural and bing in cavaliersas distinguiÉäd as he seemed and his gant bearing showed him tobe; and that he himself in his younger days had followed the samehonourable calling, roaming in quest of adventures in various parts ofthe world, among others the curing-grounds of mga, the isles ofriaran, the precinct of seville, the little market of segovia, theolivera of valencia, the rondi of granada, the strand of san lucar,the colt of cordova, the taverns of toledo, and divers other quarters,where he had proved the nimbleness of his feet and the lightness ofhis fingers, doing many wrongs, cheating many widows, ruining maidsand swindling minors, and, in short, bringing himself under the noticeof almost every tribunal and court of justice in spain; until ast he had retired to this castle of his, where he was living uponhis property and upon that of others; and where he received allknights-errant of whatever rank or condition they might be, all forthe great love he bore them and that they might share theirsubstance with him in return for his benevolence. he told him,moreover, that in this castle of his there was no ²åpel in which hecould watch his armour, as it had been pulled down in order to berebuilt, but that in a case of necessity it might, he knew, be watchedanywhere, and he might watch it that night in a courtyard of thecastle, and in the morning, god willing, the requisite ceremoniesmight be performed so as to have him dubbed a knight, and sothoroughly dubbed that nobody could be more so. he asked if he had anymoney with him, to which don quixote replied that he had not afarthing, as in the histories of knights-errant he had never read ofany of them carrying any. on this point thendlord told him he wasmistaken; for, though not recorded in the histories, because in theauthors opinion there was no need to mention anything so obviousand necessary as money and clean shirts, it was not to be supposedtherefore that they did not carry them, and he might regard it ascertain and establiÉäd that all knights-errant £¨about whom there wereso many full and unimpea²åble books£© carried well-furniÉäd purses incase of emergency, and likewise carried shirts and a little box ofointment to cure the wounds they received. for in those ins anddeserts where they engaged inbat and came out wounded, it wasnot always that there was some one to cure them, unless indeed theyhad for a friend some sage magician to sour them at once byfetching through the air upon a cloud some damsel or dwarf with a vialof water of such virtue that by tasting one drop of it they were curedof their hurts and wounds in an instant and left as sound as if theyhad not received any damage whatever. but in case this should notur, the knights of old took care to see that their squires wereprovided with money and other requisites, such as lint and ointmentsfor healing purposes; and when it happened that knights had no squires£¨which was rarely and seldom the case£© they themselves carriedeverything in cunning saddle-bags that were hardly seen on the horsescroup, as if it were something else of more importance, because,unless for some such reason, carrying saddle-bags was not veryfavourably regarded among knights-errant. he therefore advised him£¨and, as his godson so soon to be, he might evenmand him£© neverfrom that time forth to travel without money and the usualrequirements, and he would find the advantage of them when he leastexpected it. don quixote promised to follow his advice scrupulously, and it wasarranged forthwith that he should watch his armour in arge yardat one side of the inn; so, collecting it all together, don quixoteced it on a trough that stood by the side of a well, and bracinghis buckler on his arm he grasped hisnce and began with a statelyair to march up and down in front of the trough, and as he began hismarch night began to fall. thendlord told all the people who were in the inn about the crazeof his guest, the watching of the armour, and the dubbing ceremonyhe contemted. full of wonder at so strange a form of madness,they flocked to see it from a distance, and observed with whaposure he sometimes paced up and down, or sometimes, leaning on hince, gazed on his armour without taking his eyes off it for everso long; and as the night closed in with a light from the moon sobrilliant that it might vie with his that lent it, everything thenovice knight did was inly seen by all. meanwhile one of the carriers who were in the inn thought fit towater his team, and it was necessary to remove don quixotes armour asity on the trough; but he seeing the other approach hailed him in aloud voice, "o thou, whoever thou art, rash knight thatest ty hands on the armour of the most valorous errant that ever girton sword, have a care what thou dost; touch it not unless thou wouldsy down thy life as the penalty of thy rashness." the carrier gave noheed to these words £¨and he would have done better to heed them ifhe had been heedful of his health£©£¬ but seizing it by the straps flungthe armour some distance from him. seeing this, don quixote raised hiseyes to heaven, and fiÐÔ his thoughts, apparently, upon hisdydulcinea, eximed, "aid me,dy mine, in this the first encounterthat presents itself to this breast which thou holdest in subjection;let not thy favour and protection fail me in this first jeopardy;"and, with these words and others to the same purpose, dropping hisbuckler he lifted hisnce with both hands and with it smote such ablow on the carriers head that he stretched him on the ground, sostunned that had he followed it up with a second there would have beenno need of a surgeon to cure him. this done, he picked up his armourand returned to his beat with the same serenity as before.
µÚ4Ò³ shortly after this, another, not knowing what had happened £¨forthe carrier stilly senseless£©£¬ came with the same object ofgiving water to his mules, and was proceeding to remove the armourin order to clear the trough, when don quixote, without uttering aword or imploring aid from anyone, once more dropped his buckler andonce more lifted hisnce, and without actually breaking the secondcarriers head into pieces, made more than three of it, for heid itopen in four. at the noise all the people of the inn ran to thespot, and among them thendlord. seeing this, don quixote braced hisbuckler on his arm, and with his hand on his sword eximed, "dy of beauty, strength and support of my faint heart, it is time forthee to turn the eyes of thy greatness on this thy captive knight onthe brink of so mighty an adventure." by this he felt himself soinspired that he would not have flinched if all the carriers in theworld had assailed him. therades of the wounded perceiving theplight they were in began from a distance to shower stones on donquixote, who screened himself as best he could with his buckler, notdaring to quit the trough and leave his armour unprotected. thndlord shouted to them to leave him alone, for he had already toldthem that he was mad, and as a madman he would not be ountable evenif he killed them all. still louder shouted don quixote, callingthem knaves and traitors, and the lord of the castle, who allowedknights-errant to be treated in this fashion, a viin and a low-bornknight whom, had he received the order of knighthood, he would call toount for his treachery. "but of you," he cried, "base and vilerabble, i make no ount; fling, strike,e on, do all ye canagainst me, ye shall see what the reward of your folly and insolencewill be." this he uttered with so much spirit and boldness that hefilled his assants with a terrible fear, and as much for thisreason as at the persuasion of thendlord they left off stoning him,and he allowed them to carry off the wounded, and with the samecalmness andposure as before resumed the watch over his armour. but these freaks of his guest were not much to the liking of thndlord, so he determined to cut matters short and confer upon him atonce the unlucky order of knighthood before any further misadventurecould ur; so, going up to him, he apologised for the rudenesswhich, without his knowledge, had been offered to him by these lowpeople, who, however, had been well puniÉäd for their audacity. as hehad already told him, he said, there was no ²åpel in the castle,nor was it needed for what remained to be done, for, as heunderstood the ceremonial of the order, the whole point of beingdubbed a knighty in the de and in the p on the shoulder,and that could be administered in the middle of a field; and that hehad now done all that was needful as to watching the armour, for allrequirements were satisfied by a watch of two hours only, while he hadbeen more than four about it. don quixote believed it all, and toldhim he stood there ready to obey him, and to make an end of it with asmuch despatch as possible; for, if he were again attacked, and felthimself to be dubbed knight, he would not, he thought, leave a solive in the castle, except such as out of respect he might spare athis bidding. thus warned and menaced, the casten forthwith brought out abook in which he used to enter the straw and barley he served out tothe carriers, and, with ad carrying a candle-end, and the twodamsels already mentioned, he returned to where don quixote stood, andbade him kneel down. then, reading from his ount-book as if he wererepeating some devout prayer, in the middle of his delivery heraised his hand and gave him a sturdy blow on the neck, and then, withhis own sword, a smart p on the shoulder, all the while mutteringbetween his teeth as if he was saying his prayers. having done this,he directed one of thedies to gird on his sword, which Éä did withgreat self-possession and gravity, and not a little was required toprevent a burst ofughter at each stage of the ceremony; but whatthey had already seen of the novice knights prowess kept theiughter within bounds. on girding him with the sword the worthdy said to him, "may god make your worship a very fortunateknight, and grant you sess in battle." don quixote asked her namein order that he might from that time forward know to whom he wasbeholden for the favour he had received, as he meant to confer uponher some portion of the honour he acquired by the might of his arm.Éä answered with great humility that Éä was called tolosa, andthat Éä was the daughter of a cobbler of toledo who lived in thestalls of sanchobienaya, and that wherever Éä might be Éä wouldserve and esteem him as her lord. don quixote said in reply that Éäwould do him a favour if thenceforward Éä assumed the "don" andcalled herself dona tolosa. Éä promised Éä would, and then the otherbuckled on his spur, and with her followed almost the sameconversation as with thedy of the sword. he asked her name, and Éäsaid it was molinera, and that Éä was the daughter of arespectable miller of antequera; and of her likewise don quixoterequested that Éä would adopt the "don" and call herself donamolinera, making offers to her further services and favours. having thus, with hot haste and speed, brought to a conclusion thesenever-till-now-seen ceremonies, don quixote was on thorns until he sawhimself on horseback sallying forth in quest of adventures; andsaddling rocinante at once he mounted, and embracing his host, as hereturned thanks for his kindness in knighting him, he addressed him inguage so extraordinary that it is impossible to convey an idea ofit or report it. thendlord, to get him out of the inn, replied withno less rhetoric though with shorter words, and without calling uponhim to pay the reckoning let him go with a godspeed. ²åpter iv of what happened to our knight when he left the inn day was dawning when don quixote quitted the inn, so happy, sogay, so exhrated at finding himself now dubbed a knight, that hisjoy was like to burst his horse-girths. however, recalling theadvice of his host as to the requisites he ought to carry with him,especially that referring to money and shirts, he determined to gohome and provide himself with all, and also with a squire, for hereckoned upon securing a farmbourer, a neighbour of his, a poor manwith a family, but very well qualified for the office of squire to aknight. with this object he turned his horses head towards hisvige, and rocinante, thus reminded of his old quarters, stepped outso briskly that he hardly seemed to tread the earth. he had not gone far, when out of a thicket on his right there seemedtoe feeble cries as of some one in distress, and the instant heheard them he eximed, "thanks be to heaven for the favour itords me, that it so soon offers me an opportunity of fulfilling theobligation i have undertaken, and gathering the fruit of myambition. these cries, no doubt,e from some man or woman in wantof help, and needing my aid and protection;" and wheeling, he turnedrocinante in the direction whence the cries seemed to proceed. hehad gone but a few paces into the wood, when he saw a mare tied toan oak, and tied to another, and stripped from the waist upwards, ayouth of about fifteen years of age, from whom the cries came. norwere they without cause, for a lusty farmer was flogging him with abelt and following up every blow with scoldings andmands,repeating, "your mouth shut and your eyes open!" while the youthmade answer, "i wont do it again, master mine; by gods passion iwont do it again, and ill take more care of the flock another time." seeing what was going on, don quixote said in an angry voice,"discourteous knight, it ill bes you to assail one who cannotdefend himself; mount your steed and take yournce" £¨for there was nce leaning against the oak to which the mare was tied£©£¬ "and i willmake you know that you are behaving as a coward." the farmer, seeingbefore him this figure in full armour brandishing ance over hiÉäad, gave himself up for dead, and made answer meekly, "sir knight,this youth that i am ²åstising is my servant, employed by me to wat²å flock of Éäep that i have hard by, and he is so careless that ilose one every day, and when i punish him for his carelessness andknavery he says i do it out of niggardliness, to escape paying him thewages i owe him, and before god, and on my soul, he lies." "lies before me, base clown!" said don quixote. "by the sun thatshines on us i have a mind to run you through with thisnce. pay himat once without another word; if not, by the god that rules us iwill make an end of you, and annihte you on the spot; release himinstantly." the farmer hung his head, and without a word untied his servant,of whom don quixote asked how much his master owed him. he replied, nine months at seven reals a month. don quixote added itup, found that it came to sixty-three reals, and told the farmer topay it down immediately, if he did not want to die for it. the trembling clown replied that as he lived and by the oath hehad sworn £¨though he had not sworn any£© it was not so much; forthere were to be taken into ount and deducted three pairs ofshoes he had given him, and a real for two blood-lettings when hewas sick. "all that is very well," said don quixote; "but let the shoes andthe blood-lettings stand as a setoff against the blows you havegiven him without any cause; for if he spoiled the leather of theshoes you paid for, you have damaged that of his body, and if thebarber took blood from him when he was sick, you have drawn it when hewas sound; so on that score he owes you nothing."
µÚ5Ò³ "the difficulty is, sir knight, that i have no money here; letandrese home with me, and i will pay him all, real by real." "i go with him!" said the youth. "nay, god forbid! no, senor, notfor the world; for once alone with me, he would ray me like a saintbartholomew." "he will do nothing of the kind," said don quixote; "i have onlytomand, and he will obey me; and as he has sworn to me by theorder of knighthood which he has received, i leave him free, and iguarantee the payment." "consider what you are saying, senor," said the youth; "thismaster of mine is not a knight, nor has he received any order ofknighthood; for he is juan haldudo the rich, of quintanar." "that matters little," replied don quixote; "there may be haldudosknights; moreover, everyone is the son of his works." "that is true," said andres; "but this master of mine- of what worksis he the son, when he refuses me the wages of my sweat andbour?" "i do not refuse, brother andres," said the farmer, "be goodenough toe along with me, and i swear by all the orders ofknighthood there are in the world to pay you as i have agreed, real byreal, and perfumed." "for the perfumery i excuse you," said don quixote; "give it tohim in reals, and i shall be satisfied; and see that you do as youhave sworn; if not, by the same oath i swear toe back and hunt youout and punish you; and i shall find you though you should liecloser than a lizard. and if you desire to know who it isys thimand upon you, that you be more firmly bound to obey it, knowthat i am the valorous don quixote of man²å, the undoer ofwrongs and injustices; and so, god be with you, and keep in mindwhat you have promised and sworn under those penalties that havebeen already dered to you." so saying, he gave rocinante the spur and was soon out of reach. thefarmer followed him with his eyes, and when he saw that he had clearedthe wood and was no longer in sight, he turned to his boy andres,and said, "e here, my son, i want to pay you what i owe you, asthat undoer of wrongs hasmanded me." "my oath on it," said andres, "your worship will be well advisedto obey themand of that good knight- may he live a thousand years-for, as he is a valiant and just judge, by roque, if you do not payme, he wille back and do as he said." "my oath on it, too," said the farmer; "but as i have a strongaffection for you, i want to add to the debt in order to add to thepayment;" and seizing him by the arm, he tied him up again, and gavehim such a flogging that he left him for dead. "now, master andres," said the farmer, "call on the undoer ofwrongs; you will find he wont undo that, though i am not sure thati have quite done with you, for i have a good mind to y you alive."but atst he untied him, and gave him leave to go look for his judgein order to put the sentence pronounced into execution. andres went off rather down in the mouth, swearing he would go tolook for the valiant don quixote of man²å and tell him exactlywhat had happened, and that all would have to be repaid him sevenfold;but for all that, he went off weeping, while his master stooughing. thus did the valiant don quixote right that wrong, and, thoroughlysatisfied with what had taken ce, as he considered he had made avery happy and noble beginning with his knighthood, he took the roadtowards his vige in perfect self-content, saying in a low voice,"well mayest thou this day call thyself fortunate above all onearth, o dulcinea del toboso, fairest of the fair! since it has fallento thy lot to hold subject and submissive to thy full will andpleasure a knight so renowned as is and will be don quixote ofman²å, who, as all the world knows, yesterday received the order ofknighthood, and hath to-day righted the greatest wrong and grievancethat ever injustice conceived and cruelty perpetrated: who hath to-dayplucked the rod from the hand of yonder ruthless oppressor so wantonlshing that tender child." he now came to a road branching in four directions, andimmediately he was reminded of those cross-roads whereknights-errant used to stop to consider which road they should take.in imitation of them he halted for a while, and after having deeplyconsidered it, he gave rocinante his head, submitting his own willto that of his hack, who followed out his first intention, which wasto make straight for his own stable. after he had gone about two milesdon quixote perceived arge party of people, who, as afterwardsappeared, were some toledo traders, on their way to buy silk atmurcia. there were six of theming along under their sunshades,with four servants mounted, and three muleteers on foot. scarcelyhad don quixote descried them when the fancy possessed him that thismust be some new adventure; and to help him to imitate as far as hecould those passages he had read of in his books, here seemed te one made on purpose, which he resolved to attempt. so with alofty bearing and determination he fixed himself firmly in hisstirrups, got hisnce ready, brought his buckler before hisbreast, and nting himself in the middle of the road, stoodwaiting the approach of these knights-errant, for such he nowconsidered and held them to be; and when they hade near enoughto see and hear, he eximed with a haughty gesture, "all the worldstand, unless all the world confess that in all the world there isno maiden fairer than the empress of man²å, the peerlessdulcinea del toboso." the traders halted at the sound of thisnguage and the sight ofthe strange figure that uttered it, and from both figure annguage at once guessed the craze of their owner; they wiÉäd,however, to learn quietly what was the object of this confessionthat was demanded of them, and one of them, who was rather fond of ajoke and was very sharp-witted, said to him, "sir knight, we do notknow who this gooddy is that you speak of; show her to us, for,if Éä be of such beauty as you suggest, with all our hearts andwithout any pressure we will confess the truth that is on your partrequired of us." "if i were to show her to you," replied don quixote, "what meritwould you have in confessing a truth so manifest? the essentialpoint is that without seeing her you must believe, confess, affirm,swear, and defend it; else ye have to do with me in battle,ill-conditioned, arrogant rabble that ye are; ande ye on, one byone as the order of knighthood requires, or all together as is thecustom and vile usage of your breed, here do i bide and await yourelying on the justice of the cause i maintain." "sir knight," replied the trader, "i entreat your worship in thename of this presentpany of princes, that, to save us from²årging our consciences with the confession of a thing we havenever seen or heard of, and one moreover so much to the prejudice ofthe empresses and queens of the alcarria and estremadura, your worshipwill be pleased to show us some portrait of thisdy, though it be nobigger than a grain of wheat; for by the thread one gets at theball, and in this way we shall be satisfied and easy, and you willbe content and pleased; nay, i believe we are already so far agreedwith you that even though her portrait should show her blind of oneeye, and distilling vermilion and sulphur from the other, we wouldnevertheless, to gratify your worship, say all in her favour thatyou desire." "Éä distils nothing of the kind, vile rabble," said don quixote,burning with rage, "nothing of the kind, i say, only ambergris andcivet in cotton; nor is Éä one-eyed or humpbacked, but straighterthan a guadarrama spindle: but ye must pay for the sphemy ye haveuttered against beauty like that of mydy." and so saying, he ²årged with levellednce against the one whohad spoken, with such fury and fierceness that, if luck had notcontrived that rocinante should stumble midway ande down, it wouldhave gone hard with the rash trader. down went rocinante, and overwent his master, rolling along the ground for some distance; andwhen he tried to rise he was unable, so encumbered was he witnce, buckler, spurs, helmet, and the weight of his old armour; andall the while he was struggling to get up he kept saying, "fly not,cowards and caitiffs! stay, for not by my fault, but my horses, ami stretched here." one of the muleteers in attendance, who could not have had much goodnature in him, hearing the poor prostrate man blustering in thisstyle, was unable to refrain from giving him an answer on his ribs;anding up to him he seized hisnce, and having broken it inpieces, with one of them he began so to bbour our don quixote that,notwithstanding and in spite of his armour, he milled him like ameasure of wheat. his masters called out not toy on so hard andto leave him alone, but the muleteers blood was up, and he did notcare to drop the game until he had vented the rest of his wrath, andgathering up the remaining fragments of thence he finiÉäd with adis²årge upon the unhappy victim, who all through the storm of sticksthat rained on him never ceased threatening heaven, and earth, and thebrigands, for such they seemed to him. atst the muleteer was tired,and the traders continued their journey, taking with them matter fortalk about the poor fellow who had been cudgelled. he when he foundhimself alone made another effort to rise; but if he was unable whenwhole and sound, how was he to rise after having been thraÉäd andwell-nigh knocked to pieces? and yet he esteemed himself fortunate, asit seemed to him that this was a regr knight-errants mishap, andentirely, he considered, the fault of his horse. however, batteredin body as he was, to rise was beyond his power.
µÚ6Ò³ ²åpter v in which the narrative of our knights mishap is continued finding, then, that, in fact he could not move, he thought himselfof having recourse to his usual remedy, which was to think of somepassage in his books, and his craze brought to his mind that aboutbaldwin and the marquis of mantua, when carloto left him wounded onthe mountain side, a story known by heart by the children, notforgotten by the young men, anduded and even believed by the oldfolk; and for all that not a whit truer than the miracles ofmahomet. this seemed to him to fit exactly the case in which hefound himself, so, making a show of severe suffering, he began to rollon the ground and with feeble breath repeat the very words which thewounded knight of the wood is said to have uttered: where art thou,dy mine, that thou my sorrow dost not rue? thou canst not know it,dy mine, or else thou art untrue.and so he went on with the bad as far as the lines: o noble marquis of mantua, my uncle and liege lord! as ²ånce would have it, when he had got to this line there happenedtoe by a peasant from his own vige, a neighbour of his, who hadbeen with a load of wheat to the mill, and he, seeing the manstretched there, came up to him and asked him who he was and whatwas the matter with him that heined so dolefully. don quixote was firmly persuaded that this was the marquis ofmantua, his uncle, so the only answer he made was to go on with hisbad, in which he told the tale of his misfortune, and of theloves of the emperors son and his wife all exactly as the badsings it. the peasant stood amazed at hearing such nonsense, and relieving himof the visor, already battered to pieces by blows, he wiped hisface, which was covered with dust, and as soon as he had done so herecognised him and said, "senor quixada" £¨for so he appears to havebeen called when he was in his senses and had not yet ²ånged from aquiet country gentleman into a knight-errant£©£¬ "who has brought yourworship to this pass?" but to all questions the other only went onwith his bad. seeing this, the good man removed as well as he could hisbreastte and backpiece to see if he had any wound, but he couldperceive no blood nor any mark whatever. he then contrived to raisehim from the ground, and with no little difficulty hoisted him uponhis ass, which seemed to him to be the easiest mount for him; andcollecting the arms, even to the splinters of thence, he tiedthem on rocinante, and leading him by the bridle and the ass by thehalter he took the road for the vige, very sad to hear whatabsurd stuff don quixote was talking. nor was don quixote less so, forwhat with blows and bruises he could not sit upright on the ass, andfrom time to time he sent up sighs to heaven, so that once more hedrove the peasant to ask what ailed him. and it could have been onlythe devil himself that put into his head tales to match his ownadventures, for now, forgetting baldwin, he bethought himself of themoor abindarraez, when the alcaide of antequera, rodrigo de narvaez,took him prisoner and carried him away to his castle; so that when thepeasant again asked him how he was and what ailed him, he gave him forreply the same words and phrases that the captive abindarraez gaveto rodrigo de narvaez, just as he had read the story in the "diana" ofjorge de montemayor where it is written, applying it to his own caseso aptly that the peasant went along cursing his fate that he had tolisten to such a lot of nonsense; from which, however, he came tothe conclusion that his neighbour was mad, and so made all haste toreach the vige to escape the wearisomeness of this harangue ofdon quixotes; who, at the end of it, said, "senor don rodrigo denarvaez, your worship must know that this fair xarifa i have mentionedis now the lovely dulcinea del toboso, for whom i have done, am doing,and will do the most famous deeds of chivalry that in this worldhave been seen, are to be seen, or ever shall be seen." to this the peasant answered, "senor- sinner that i am!- cannot yourworship see that i am not don rodrigo de narvaez nor the marquis ofmantua, but pedro alonso your neighbour, and that your worship isneither baldwin nor abindarraez, but the worthy gentleman senorquixada?" "i know who i am," replied don quixote, "and i know that i may benot only those i have named, but all the twelve peers of france andeven all the nine worthies, since my achievements surpass all thatthey have done all together and each of them on his own ount." with this talk and more of the same kind they reached the vigejust as night was beginning to fall, but the peasant waited until itwas a littleter that the bboured gentleman might not be seenriding in such a miserable trim. when it was what seemed to him theproper time he entered the vige and went to don quixotes house,which he found all in confusion, and there were the curate and thevige barber, who were great friends of don quixote, and hishousekeeper was saying to them in a loud voice, "what does yourworship think can have befallen my master, senor licentiate peroperez?" for so the curate was called; "it is three days now sinceanything has been seen of him, or the hack, or the buckler,nce,or armour. miserable me! i am certain of it, and it is as true as thati was born to die, that these ursed books of chivalry he has, andhas got into the way of reading so constantly, have upset hisreason; for now i remember having often heard him saying to himselfthat he would turn knight-errant and go all over the world in quest ofadventures. to the devil and barabbas with such books, that havebrought to ruin in this way the finest understanding there was inall man²å!" the niece said the same, and, more: "you must know, masternichs"- for that was the name of the barber- "it was often myuncles way to stay two days and nights together poring over theseunholy books of misventures, after which he would fling the bookaway and snatch up his sword and fall to shing the walls; andwhen he was tired out he would say he had killed four giants like fourtowers; and the sweat that flowed from him when he was weary he saidwas the blood of the wounds he had received in battle; and then hewould drink a great jug of cold water and be calm and quiet,saying that this water was a most precious potion which the sageesquife, a great magician and friend of his, had brought him. but itake all the me upon myself for never having told your worshipsof my uncles vagaries, that you might put a stop to them beforethings hade to this pass, and burn all these ursed books- forhe has a great number- that richly deserve to be burned likeheretics." "so say i too," said the curate, "and by my faith to-morrow shallnot pass without public judgment upon them, and may they becondemned to the mes lest they lead those that read to behave as mygood friend seems to have behaved." all this the peasant heard, and from it he understood atst whatwas the matter with his neighbour, so he began calling aloud, "open,your worships, to senor baldwin and to senor the marquis of mantua,whoes badly wounded, and to senor abindarraez, the moor, whomthe valiant rodrigo de narvaez, the alcaide of antequera, bringscaptive." at these words they all hurried out, and when they recognisedtheir friend, master, and uncle, who had not yet dismounted from theass because he could not, they ran to embrace him. "hold!" said he, "for i am badly wounded through my horses fault;carry me to bed, and if possible send for the wise urganda to cure andsee to my wounds." "see there! gue on it!" cried the housekeeper at this: "did notmy heart tell the truth as to which foot my master wentme of? tobed with your worship at once, and we will contrive to cure you herewithout fetching that hurgada. a curse i say once more, and ahundred times more, on those books of chivalry that have broughtyour worship to such a pass." they carried him to bed at once, and after searching for hiswounds could find none, but he said they were all bruises fromhaving had a severe fall with his horse rocinante when inbatwith ten giants, the biggest and the boldest to be found on earth. "so, so!" said the curate, "are there giants in the dance? by thesign of the cross i will burn them to-morrow before the day over." they put a host of questions to don quixote, but his only answerto all was- give him something to eat, and leave him to sleep, forthat was what he needed most. they did so, and the curate questionedthe peasant at great length as to how he had found don quixote. hetold him, and the nonsense he had talked when found and on the wayhome, all which made the licentiate the more eager to do what he didthe next day, which was to summon his friend the barber, masternichs, and go with him to don quixotes house. ²åpter vi of the diverting and important scrutiny which the curate and thebarber made in the library of our ingenious gentleman he was still sleeping; so the curate asked the niece for the keys ofthe room where the books, the authors of all the mischief, were, andright willingly Éä gave them. they all went in, the housekeeperwith them, and found more than a hundred volumes of big books verywell bound, and some other small ones. the moment the housekeepersaw them Éä turned about and ran out of the room, and came backimmediately with a saucer of holy water and a sprinkler, saying,"here, your worship, senor licentiate, sprinkle this room; dont leaveany magician of the many there are in these books to bewitch us inrevenge for our design of banishing them from the world."
µÚ7Ò³ the simplicity of the housekeeper made the licentiateugh, andhe directed the barber to give him the books one by one to see whatthey were about, as there might be some to be found among them thatdid not deserve the penalty of fire. "no," said the niece, "there is no reason for showing mercy to anyof them; they have every one of them done mischief; better flingthem out of the window into the court and make a pile of them andset fire to them; or else carry them into the yard, and there abonfire can be made without the smoke giving any annoyance." thehousekeeper said the same, so eager were they both for the ughterof those innocents, but the curate would not agree to it without firstreading at any rate the titles. the first that master nichs put into his hand was "the four booksof amadis of gaul." "this seems a mysterious thing," said thecurate, "for, as i have heard say, this was the first book of chivalryprinted in spain, and from this all the others derive their birthand origin; so it seems to me that we ought inexorably to condemn itto the mes as the founder of so vile a sect." "nay, sir," said the barber, "i too, have heard say that this is thebest of all the books of this kind that have been written, and so,as something singr in its line, it ought to be pardoned." "true," said the curate; "and for that reason let its life be sparedfor the present. let us see that other which is next to it." "it is," said the barber, "the sergas de esndian, thewfulson of amadis of gaul." "then verily," said the curate, "the merit of the father must not beput down to the ount of the son. take it, mistress housekeeper;open the window and fling it into the yard andy the foundation ofthe pile for the bonfire we are to make." the housekeeper obeyed with great satisfaction, and the worthy"esndian" went flying into the yard to await with all patiencethe fire that was in store for him. "proceed," said the curate. "this thates next," said the barber, "is amadis of greece,and, indeed, i believe all those on this side are of the same amadislineage." "then to the yard with the whole of them," said the curate; "forto have the burning of queen pintiquiniestra, and the Éäpherd darinnd his eclogues, and the bedevilled and involved discourses of hisauthor, i would burn with them the father who begot me if he weregoing about in the guise of a knight-errant." "i am of the same mind," said the barber. "and so am i," added the niece. "in that case," said the housekeeper, "here, into the yard withthem!" they were handed to her, and as there were many of them, Éäspared herself the staircase, and flung them down out of the window. "who is that tub there?" said the curate. "this," said the barber, "is don olivante deura." "the author of that book," said the curate, "was the same that wrotethe garden of flowers, and truly there is no deciding which of thetwo books is the more truthful, or, to put it better, the lesslying; all i can say is, send this one into the yard for aswaggering fool." "this that follows is florismarte of hircania," said the barber. "senor florismarte here?" said the curate; "then by my faith he musttake up his quarters in the yard, in spite of his marvellous birth andvisionary adventures, for the stiffness and dryness of his styledeserve nothing else; into the yard with him and the other, mistresshousekeeper." "with all my heart, senor," said Éä, and executed the order withgreat delight. "this," said the barber, "is the knight tir." "an old book that," said the curate, "but i find no reason forclemency in it; send it after the others without appeal;" which wasdone. another book was opened, and they saw it was entitled, "the knightof the cross." "for the sake of the holy name this book has," said the curate, "itsignorance might be excused; but then, they say, behind the crosstheres the devil; to the fire with it." taking down another book, the barber said, "this is the mirror ofchivalry." "i know his worship," said the curate; "that is where senorreinaldos of montalvan figures with his friends andrades,greater thieves than cacus, and the twelve peers of france with theveracious historian turpin; however, i am not for condemning them tomore than perpetual banishment, because, at any rate, they have someshare in the invention of the famous matteo boiardo, whence too thechristian poet ludovico ariosto wove his web, to whom, if i find himhere, and speaking anynguage but his own, i shall show no respectwhatever; but if he speaks his own tongue i will put him upon myhead." "well, i have him in italian," said the barber, "but i do notunderstand him." "nor would it be well that you should understand him," said thecurate, "and on that score we might have excused the captain if he hadnot brought him into spain and turned him into castilian. he robbedhim of a great deal of his natural force, and so do all those whotry to turn books written in verse into anothernguage, for, withall the pains they take and all the cleverness they show, they nevercan reach the level of the originals as they were first produced. inshort, i say that this book, and all that may be found treating ofthose french affairs, should be thrown into or deposited in some drywell, until after more consideration it is settled what is to bedone with them; excepting always one bernardo del carpio that isgoing about, and another called roncesvalles; for these, if thee into my hands, shall pass at once into those of thehousekeeper, and from hers into the fire without any reprieve." to all this the barber gave his assent, and looked upon it asright and proper, being persuaded that the curate was so staunch tothe faith and loyal to the truth that he would not for the world sayanything opposed to them. opening another book he saw it was "palmerinde oliva," and beside it was another called "palmerin of ennd,"seeing which the licentiate said, "let the olive be made firewood ofat once and burned until no aÉäs even are left; and let that palmof ennd be kept and preserved as a thing that stands alone, and letsuch another case be made for it as that which alexander found amongthe spoils of darius and set aside for the safe keeping of the worksof the poet homer. this book, gossip, is of authority for two reasons,first because it is very good, and secondly because it is said to havebeen written by a wise and witty king of portugal. all theadventures at the castle of miraguarda are excellent and ofadmirable contrivance, and thenguage is poliÉäd and clear,studying and observing the style befitting the speaker withpropriety and judgment. so then, provided it seems good to you, masternichs, i say let this and amadis of gaul be remitted thepenalty of fire, and as for all the rest, let them perish withoutfurther question or query." "nay, gossip," said the barber, "for this that i have here is thefamous don belianis." "well," said the curate, "that and the second, third, and fourthparts all stand in need of a little rhubarb to purge their excess ofbile, and they must be cleared of all that stuff about the castle offame and other greater affectations, to which end let them beallowed the over-seas term, and, ording as they mend, so shallmercy or justice be meted out to them; and in the mean time, gossip,do you keep them in your house and let no one read them." "with all my heart," said the barber; and not caring to tire himselfwith reading more books of chivalry, he told the housekeeper to takeall the big ones and throw them into the yard. it was not said toone dull or deaf, but to one who enjoyed burning them more thanweaving the broadest and finest web that could be; and seizing abouteight at a time, Éä flung them out of the window. in carrying so many together Éä let one fall at the feet of thebarber, who took it up, curious to know whose it was, and found itsaid, "history of the famous knight, tirante el nco." "god bless me!" said the curate with a shout, "tirante el ncohere! hand it over, gossip, for in it i reckon i have found a treasuryof enjoyment and a mine of recreation. here is don kyrieleison ofmontalvan, a valiant knight, and his brother thomas of montalvan,and the knight fonseca, with the battle the bold tirante fought withthe mastiff, and the witticisms of the damsel cerdemivida, andthe loves and wiles of the widow reposada, and the empress in lovewith the squire hipolito- in truth, gossip, by right of its style itis the best book in the world. here knights eat and sleep, and diein their beds, and make their wills before dying, and a great dealmore of which there is nothing in all the other books. nevertheless, isay he who wrote it, for deliberatelyposing such fooleries,deserves to be sent to the galleys for life. take it home with you andread it, and you will see that what i have said is true." "as you will," said the barber; "but what are we to do with theselittle books that are left?"
µÚ8Ò³ "these must be, not chivalry, but poetry," said the curate; andopening one he saw it was the "diana" of jorge de montemayor, and,supposing all the others to be of the same sort, "these," he said, "donot deserve to be burned like the others, for they neither do norcan do the mischief the books of chivalry have done, being books ofentertainment that can hurt no one." "ah, senor!" said the niece, "your worship had better order these tobe burned as well as the others; for it would be no wonder if, afterbeing cured of his chivalry disorder, my uncle, by reading these, tooka fancy to turn Éäpherd and range the woods and fields singing andpiping; or, what would be still worse, to turn poet, which they say isan incurable and infectious mdy." "the damsel is right," said the curate, "and it will be well toput this stumbling-block and temptation out of our friends way. tobegin, then, with the diana of montemayor. i am of opinion it shouldnot be burned, but that it should be cleared of all that about thesage felicia and the magic water, and of almost all the longerpieces of verse: let it keep, and wee, its prose and the honour ofbeing the first of books of the kind." "this thates next," said the barber, "is the diana, entitledthe second part, by the smancan, and this other has the sametitle, and its author is gil polo." "as for that of the smancan," replied the curate, "let it go toswell the number of the condemned in the yard, and let gil polos bepreserved as if it came from apollo himself: but get on, gossip, andmake haste, for it is growingte." "this book," said the barber, opening another, "is the ten booksof the fortune of love, written by antonio de lofraso, a sardinianpoet." "by the orders i have received," said the curate, "since apollohas been apollo, and the muses have been muses, and poets have beenpoets, so droll and absurd a book as this has never been written,and in its way it is the best and the most singr of all of thisspecies that have as yet appeared, and he who has not read it may besure he has never read what is delightful. give it here, gossip, for imake more ount of having found it than if they had given me acassock of florence stuff." he put it aside with extreme satisfaction, and the barber went on,"these thate next are the Éäpherd of iberia, nymphs ofhenares, and the enlightenment of jealousy." "then all we have to do," said the curate, "is to hand them overto the secr arm of the housekeeper, and ask me not why, or we shallnever have done." "this next is the pastor de filida." "no pastor that," said the curate, "but a highly poliÉädcourtier; let it be preserved as a precious jewel." "thisrge one here," said the barber, "is called the treasuryof various poems." "if there were not so many of them," said the curate, "they would bemore reliÉäd: this book must be weeded and cleansed of certainvulgarities which it has with its excellences; let it be preservedbecause the author is a friend of mine, and out of respect for othermore heroic and loftier works that he has written." "this," continued the barber, "is the cancionero of lopez demaldonado." "the author of that book, too," said the curate, "is a greatfriend of mine, and his verses from his own mouth are the admirationof all who hear them, for such is the sweetness of his voice that heen²ånts when he ²ånts them: it gives rather too much of itseclogues, but what is good was never yet plentiful: let it be keptwith those that have been set apart. but what book is that next it?" "the gtea of miguel de cervantes," said the barber. "that cervantes has been for many years a great friend of mine,and to my knowledge he has had more experience in reverses than inverses. his book has some good invention in it, it presents us withsomething but brings nothing to a conclusion: we must wait for thesecond part it promises: perhaps with amendment it may seed inwinning the full measure of grace that is now denied it; and in themean time do you, senor gossip, keep it shut up in your own quarters." "very good," said the barber; "and heree three together, thearaucana of don alonso de erci, the austriada of juan rufo,justice of cordova, and the montserrate of christobal de virues, thevalencian poet." "these three books," said the curate, "are the best that have beenwritten in castilian in heroic verse, and they maypare with themost famous of italy; let them be preserved as the richest treasuresof poetry that spain possesses." the curate was tired and would not look into any more books, andso he decided that, "contents uncertified," all the rest should beburned; but just then the barber held open one, called "the tears ofangelica." "i should have Éäd tears myself," said the curate when he heard thetitle, "had i ordered that book to be burned, for its author was oneof the famous poets of the world, not to say of spain, and was veryhappy in the trantion of some of ovids fables." ²åpter vii of the second sally of our worthy knight don quixote of man²å at this instant don quixote began shouting out, "here, here,valiant knights! here is need for you to put forth the might of yourstrong arms, for they of the court are gaining the mastery in thetourney!" called away by this noise and outcry, they proceeded nofarther with the scrutiny of the remaining books, and so it is thoughtthat "the carolea," "the lion of spain," and "the deeds of theemperor," written by don luis de av, went to the fire unseen andunheard; for no doubt they were among those that remained, and perhapsif the curate had seen them they would not have undergone so severea sentence. when they reached don quixote he was already out of bed, and wasstill shouting and raving, and shing and cutting all round, as wideawake as if he had never slept. they closed with him and by force got him back to bed, and when hehad be a little calm, addressing the curate, he said to him, "of atruth, senor archbishop turpin, it is a great disgrace for us who callourselves the twelve peers, so carelessly to allow the knights ofthe court to gain the victory in this tourney, we the adventurershaving carried off the honour on the three former days." "hush, gossip," said the curate; "please god, the luck may turn, andwhat is lost to-day may be won to-morrow; for the present let yourworship have a care of your health, for it seems to me that you areover-fatigued, if not badly wounded." "wounded no," said don quixote, "but bruised and battered nodoubt, for that bastard don rnd has cudgelled me with the trunkof an oak tree, and all for envy, because he sees that i alone rivalhim in his achievements. but i should not call myself reinaldos ofmontalvan did he not pay me for it in spite of all his en²åntments assoon as i rise from this bed. for the present let them bring mesomething to eat, for that, i feel, is what will be more to mypurpose, and leave it to me to avenge myself." they did as he wiÉäd; they gave him something to eat, and once morehe fell asleep, leaving them marvelling at his madness. that night the housekeeper burned to aÉäs all the books that werein the yard and in the whole house; and some must have been consumedthat deserved preservation in evesting archives, but their fate andtheziness of the examiner did not permit it, and so in them wasverified the proverb that the innocent suffer for the guilty. one of the remedies which the curate and the barber immediatelyapplied to their friends disorder was to wall up and ster the roomwhere the books were, so that when he got up he should not find them£¨possibly the cause being removed the effect might cease£©£¬ and theymight say that a magician had carried them off, room and all; and thiswas done with all despatch. two dayster don quixote got up, and thefirst thing he did was to go and look at his books, and not findingthe room where he had left it, he wandered from side to side lookingfor it. he came to the ce where the door used to be, and tried itwith his hands, and turned and twisted his eyes in every directionwithout saying a word; but after a good while he asked his housekeeperwhereabouts was the room that held his books. the housekeeper, who had been already well instructed in what Éäwas to answer, said, "what room or what nothing is it that yourworship is looking for? there are neither room nor books in this housenow, for the devil himself has carried all away." "it was not the devil," said the niece, "but a magician who cameon a cloud one night after the day your worship left this, anddismounting from a serpent that he rode he entered the room, andwhat he did there i know not, but after a little while he made off,flying through the roof, and left the house full of smoke; and when wewent to see what he had done we saw neither book nor room: but weremember very well, the housekeeper and i, that on leaving, the oldviin said in a loud voice that, for a private grudge he owed theowner of the books and the room, he had done mischief in that housethat would be discovered by-and-by: he said too that his name wasthe sage munaton."
µÚ9Ò³ "he must have said friston," said don quixote. "i dont know whether he called himself friston or friton," said thehousekeeper, "i only know that his name ended with ton." "so it does," said don quixote, "and he is a sage magician, agreat enemy of mine, who has a spite against me because he knows byhis arts and lore that in process of time i am to engage in singlbat with a knight whom he befriends and that i am to conquer, andhe will be unable to prevent it; and for this reason he endeavoursto do me all the ill turns that he can; but i promise him it will behard for him to oppose or avoid what is decreed by heaven." "who doubts that?" said the niece; "but, uncle, who mixes you upin these quarrels? would it not be better to remain at peace in yourown house instead of roaming the world looking for better bread thanever came of wheat, never reflecting that many go for wool andeback shorn?" "oh, niece of mine," replied don quixote, "how much astray artthou in thy reckoning: ere they Éäar me i shall have plucked away andstripped off the beards of all who dare to touch only the tip of ahair of mine." the two were unwilling to make any further answer, as they sawthat his anger was kindling. in short, then, he remained at home fifteen days very quietlywithout showing any signs of a desire to take up with his formerdelusions, and during this time he held lively discussions with histwo gossips, the curate and the barber, on the point he maintained,that knights-errant were what the world stood most in need of, andthat in him was to be apliÉäd the revival of knight-errantry. thecurate sometimes contradicted him, sometimes agreed with him, for ifhe had not observed this precaution he would have been unable to bringhim to reason. meanwhile don quixote worked upon a farmbourer, a neighbour ofhis, an honest man £¨if indeed that title can be given to him who ispoor£©£¬ but with very little wit in his pate. in a word, he so talkedhim over, and with such persuasions and promises, that the poorclown made up his mind to sally forth with him and serve him asesquire. don quixote, among other things, told him he ought to beready to go with him dly, because any moment an adventure mightur that might win an ind in the twinkling of an eye and leavehim governor of it. on these and the like promises sancho panza £¨forso thebourer was called£© left wife and children, and engagedhimself as esquire to his neighbour. don quixote next set aboutgetting some money; and selling one thing and pawning another, andmaking a bad bargain in every case, he got together a fair sum. heprovided himself with a buckler, which he begged as a loan from afriend, and, restoring his battered helmet as best he could, he warnedhis squire sancho of the day and hour he meant to set out, that hemight provide himself with what he thought most needful. above all, he²årged him to take alforjas with him. the other said he would, andthat he meant to take also a very good ass he had, as he was notmuch given to going on foot. about the ass, don quixote hesitated alittle, trying whether he could call to mind any knight-erranttaking with him an esquire mounted on ass-back, but no instanceurred to his memory. for all that, however, he determined to takehim, intending to furnish him with a more honourable mount when a²ånce of it presented itself, by appropriating the horse of the firstdiscourteous knight he encountered. himself he provided with shirtsand such other things as he could, ording to the advice the hosthad given him; all which being done, without taking leave, sanchopanza of his wife and children, or don quixote of his housekeeperand niece, they sallied forth unseen by anybody from the vige onenight, and made such good way in the course of it that by daylightthey held themselves safe from discovery, even should search be madefor them. sancho rode on his ass like a patriarch, with his alforjas and bota,and longing to see himself soon governor of the ind his masterhad promised him. don quixote decided upon taking the same route androad he had taken on his first journey, that over the campo demontiel, which he travelled with less difort than on thestasion, for, as it was early morning and the rays of the sun fell onthem obliquely, the heat did not distress them. and now said sancho panza to his master, "your worship will takecare, senor knight-errant, not to forget about the ind you havepromised me, for be it ever so big ill be equal to governing it." to which don quixote replied, "thou must know, friend sanchopanza, that it was a practice very much in vogue with theknights-errant of old to make their squires governors of the indsor kingdoms they won, and i am determined that there shall be nofailure on my part in so liberal a custom; on the contrary, i meanto improve upon it, for they sometimes, and perhaps most frequently,waited until their squires were old, and then when they had had enoughof service and hard days and worse nights, they gave them some titleor other, of count, or at the most marquis, of some valley or provincemore or less; but if thou livest and i live, it may well be thatbefore six days are over, i may have won some kingdom that hasothers dependent upon it, which will be just the thing to enablethee to be crowned king of one of them. nor needst thou count thiswonderful, for things and ²ånces fall to the lot of such knights inways so unexampled and unexpected that i might easily give thee evenmore than i promise thee." "in that case," said sancho panza, "if i should be a king by oneof those miracles your worship speaks of, even juana gutierrez, my oldwoman, woulde to be queen and my children infantes." "well, who doubts it?" said don quixote. "i doubt it," replied sancho panza, "because for my part i ampersuaded that though god should shower down kingdoms upon earth,not one of them would fit the head of mari gutierrez. let me tell you,senor, Éä is not worth two maravedis for a queen; countess will fither better, and that only with gods help." "leave it to god, sancho," returned don quixote, "for he will giveher what suits her best; but do not undervalue thyself so much as te to be content with anything less than being governor of aprovince." "i will not, senor," answered sancho, "specially as i have a manof such quality for a master in your worship, who will know how togive me all that will be suitable for me and that i can bear." ²åpter viii of the good fortune which the valiant don quixote had in theterrible and undreamt-of adventure of the windmills, with otherurrences worthy to be fitly recorded at this point they came in sight of thirty forty windmills thatthere are on in, and as soon as don quixote saw them he said to hissquire, "fortune is arranging matters for us better than we could haveshaped our desires ourselves, for look there, friend sancho panza,where thirty or more monstrous giants present themselves, all ofwhom i mean to engage in battle and y, and with whose spoils weshall begin to make our fortunes; for this is righteous warfare, andit is gods good service to sweep so evil a breed from off the face ofthe earth." "what giants?" said sancho panza. "those thou seest there," answered his master, "with the longarms, and some have them nearly two leagues long." "look, your worship," said sancho; "what we see there are not giantsbut windmills, and what seem to be their arms are the sails thatturned by the wind make the millstone go." "it is easy to see," replied don quixote, "that thou art not used tothis business of adventures; those are giants; and if thou art afraid,away with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer while i engagethem in fierce and unequalbat." so saying, he gave the spur to his steed rocinante, heedless ofthe cries his squire sancho sent after him, warning him that mostcertainly they were windmills and not giants he was going to attack.he, however, was so positive they were giants that he neither heardthe cries of sancho, nor perceived, near as he was, what they were,but made at them shouting, "fly not, cowards and vile beings, for asingle knight attacks you." a slight breeze at this moment sprang up, and the great sailsbegan to move, seeing which don quixote eximed, "though ye flourishmore arms than the giant briareus, ye have to reckon with me." so saying, andmending himself with all his heart to hisdydulcinea, imploring her to support him in such a peril, withncein rest and covered by his buckler, he ²årged at rocinantesfullest gallop and fell upon the first mill that stood in front ofhim; but as he drove hisnce-point into the sail the wind whirled itround with such force that it shivered thence to pieces, sweepingwith it horse and rider, who went rolling over on the in, in asorry condition. sancho hastened to his assistance as fast as hisass could go, and when he came up found him unable to move, withsuch a shock had rocinante fallen with him. "god bless me!" said sancho, "did i not tell your worship to mindwhat you were about, for they were only windmills? and no one couldhave made any mistake about it but one who had something of the samekind in his head." "hush, friend sancho," replied don quixote, "the fortunes of warmore than any other are liable to frequent fluctuations; andmoreover i think, and it is the truth, that that same sage friston whocarried off my study and books, has turned these giants into millsin order to rob me of the glory of vanquishing them, such is theenmity he bears me; but in the end his wicked arts will avail butlittle against my good sword."
µÚ10Ò³ "god order it as he may," said sancho panza, and helping him to risegot him up again on rocinante, whose shoulder was half out; andthen, discussing thete adventure, they followed the road topuertopice, for there, said don quixote, they could not fail tofind adventures in abundance and variety, as it was a greatthoroughfare. for all that, he was much grieved at the loss of hince, and saying so to his squire, he added, "i remember havingread how a spanish knight, diego perez de vargas by name, havingbroken his sword in battle, tore from an oak a ponderous bough orbranch, and with it did such things that day, and pounded so manymoors, that he got the surname of machuca, and he and hisdescendants from that day forth were called vargas y machuca. imention this because from the first oak i see i mean to rend su²ånother branch,rge and stout like that, with which i amdetermined and resolved to do such deeds that thou mayest deem thyselfvery fortunate in being found worthy toe and see them, and be aneyewitness of things that will with difficulty be believed." "be that as god will," said sancho, "i believe it all as yourworship says it; but straighten yourself a little, for you seem all onone side, may be from the shaking of the fall." "that is the truth," said don quixote, "and if i make nointof the pain it is because knights-errant are not permitted toinof any wound, even though their bowels being out through it." "if so," said sancho, "i have nothing to say; but god knows iwould rather your worshipined when anything ailed you. for mypart, i confess i mustin however small the ache may be;unless this rule about notining extends to the squires ofknights-errant also." don quixote could not helpughing at his squires simplicity,and he assured him he mightin whenever and however he chose,just as he liked, for, so far, he had never read of anything to thecontrary in the order of knighthood. sancho bade him remember it was dinner-time, to which his masteranswered that he wanted nothing himself just then, but that he mighteat when he had a mind. with this permission sancho settled himself afortably as he could on his beast, and taking out of the alforjaswhat he had stowed away in them, he jogged along behind his mastermunching deliberately, and from time to time taking a pull at the botawith a relish that the thirstiest tapster in mga might have envied;and while he went on in this way, gulping down draught afterdraught, he never gave a thought to any of the promises his master hadmade him, nor did he rate it as hardship but rather as recreationgoing in quest of adventures, however dangerous they might be. finallythey passed the night among some trees, from one of which donquixote plucked a dry branch to serve him after a fashion as nce, and fixed on it the head he had removed from the broken one.all that night don quixotey awake thinking of hisdy dulcinea, inorder to conform to what he had read in his books, how many a night inthe forests and deserts knights used to lie sleepless supported by thememory of their mistresses. not so did sancho panza spend it, forhaving his stomach full of something stronger than chicory water hemade but one sleep of it, and, if his master had not called him,neither the rays of the sun beating on his face nor all the cheerynotes of the birds weing the approach of day would have hadpower to waken him. on getting up he tried the bota and found itsomewhat less full than the night before, which grieved his heartbecause they did not seem to be on the way to remedy the deficiencyreadily. don quixote did not care to break his fast, for, as hasbeen already said, he confined himself to savoury recollections fornourishment. they returned to the road they had set out with, leading to puertpice, and at three in the afternoon they came in sight of it. "here,brother sancho panza," said don quixote when he saw it, "we may plungeour hands up to the elbows in what they call adventures; butobserve, even shouldst thou see me in the greatest danger in theworld, thou must not put a hand to thy sword in my defence, unlessindeed thou perceivest that those who assail me are rabble or basefolk; for in that case thou mayest very properly aid me; but if theybe knights it is on no ount permitted or allowed thee by thewsof knighthood to help me until thou hast been dubbed a knight." "most certainly, senor," replied sancho, "your worship shall befully obeyed in this matter; all the more as of myself i am peacefnd no friend to miÐÔ in strife and quarrels: it is true that asregards the defence of my own person i shall not give much heed tothosews, forws human and divine allow each one to defend himselfagainst any assant whatever." "that i grant," said don quixote, "but in this matter of aiding meagainst knights thou must put a restraint upon thy naturalimpetuosity." "i will do so, i promise you," answered sancho, "and will keepthis precept as carefully as sunday." while they were thus talking there appeared on the road two friarsof the order of st. benedict, mounted on two dromedaries, for not lesstall were the two mules they rode on. they wore travellingspectacles and carried sunshades; and behind them came a coa²åttended by four or five persons on horseback and two muleteers onfoot. in the coach there was, as afterwards appeared, a biscaydy onher way to seville, where her husband was about to take passage forthe indies with an appointment of high honour. the friars, thoughgoing the same road, were not in herpany; but the moment donquixote perceived them he said to his squire, "either i am mistaken,or this is going to be the most famous adventure that has ever beenseen, for those ck bodies we see there must be, and doubtlessare, magicians who are carrying off some stolen princess in thatcoach, and with all my might i must undo this wrong." "this will be worse than the windmills," said sancho. "look,senor; those are friars of st. benedict, and the coach inly belongsto some travellers: i tell you to mind well what you are about anddont let the devil mislead you." "i have told thee already, sancho," replied don quixote, "that onthe subject of adventures thou knowest little. what i say is thetruth, as thou shalt see presently." so saying, he advanced and posted himself in the middle of theroad along which the friars wereing, and as soon as he thoughtthey hade near enough to hear what he said, he cried aloud,"devilish and unnatural beings, release instantly the highbornprincesses whom you are carrying off by force in this coach, elseprepare to meet a speedy death as the just punishment of your evildeeds." the friars drew rein and stood wondering at the appearance of donquixote as well as at his words, to which they replied, "senorcaballero, we are not devilish or unnatural, but two brothers of st.benedict following our road, nor do we know whether or not there areany captive princessesing in this coach." "no soft words with me, for i know you, lying rabble," said donquixote, and without waiting for a reply he spurred rocinante and withlevellednce ²årged the first friar with such fury anddetermination, that, if the friar had not flung himself off themule, he would have brought him to the ground against his will, andsore wounded, if not killed outright. the second brother, seeing howhisrade was treated, drove his heels into his castle of a mule andmade off across the country faster than the wind. sancho panza, when he saw the friar on the ground, dismountingbriskly from his ass, ruÉäd towards him and began to strip off hisgown. at that instant the friars muleteers came up and asked what hewas stripping him for. sancho answered them that this fell to hiwfully as spoil of the battle which his lord don quixote had won.the muleteers, who had no idea of a joke and did not understand allthis about battles and spoils, seeing that don quixote was somedistance off talking to the travellers in the coach, fell upon sancho,knocked him down, and leaving hardly a hair in his beard, bbouredhim with kicks and left him stretched breathless and senseless onthe ground; and without any more dy helped the friar to mount, who,trembling, terrified, and pale, as soon as he found himself in thesaddle, spurred after hispanion, who was standing at a distancelooking on, watching the result of the onught; then, not caringto wait for the end of the affair just begun, they pursued theirjourney making more crosses than if they had the devil after them. don quixote was, as has been said, speaking to thedy in thecoach: "your beauty,dy mine," said he, "may now dispose of yourperson as may be most in ordance with your pleasure, for thepride of your raviÉärs lies prostrate on the ground through thisstrong arm of mine; and lest you should be pining to know the nameof your deliverer, know that i am called don quixote of man²å,knight-errant and adventurer, and captive to the peerless andbeautifuldy dulcinea del toboso: and in return for the serviceyou have received of me i ask no more than that you should return toel toboso, and on my behalf present yourself before thatdy and tellher what i have done to set you free." one of the squires in attendance upon the coach, a biscayan, waslistening to all don quixote was saying, and, perceiving that he wouldnot allow the coach to go on, but was saying it must return at once toel toboso, he made at him, and seizing hisnce addressed him inbad castilian and worse biscayan after his fashion, "begone,caballero, and ill go with thee; by the god that made me, unlessthou quittest coach, yest thee as art here a biscayan."
µÚ11Ò³ don quixote understood him quite well, and answered him veryquietly, "if thou wert a knight, as thou art none, i should havealready ²åstised thy folly and rashness, miserable creature." towhich the biscayan returned, "i no gentleman! -i swear to god thouliest as i am christian: if thou droppestnce and drawest sword,soon shalt thou see thou art carrying water to the cat: biscayan ond, hidalgo at sea, hidalgo at the devil, and look, if thou sayestotherwise thou liest." ""you will see presently," said agrajes," replied don quixote; andthrowing hisnce on the ground he drew his sword, braced his buckleron his arm, and attacked the biscayan, bent upon taking his life. the biscayan, when he saw himing on, though he wiÉäd todismount from his mule, in which, being one of those sorry ones letout for hire, he had no confidence, had no choice but to draw hissword; it was lucky for him, however, that he was near the coach, fromwhich he was able to snatch a cushion that served him for a shield;and they went at one another as if they had been two mortal enemies.the others strove to make peace between them, but could not, for thebiscayan dered in his disjointed phrase that if they did not lethim finish his battle he would kill his mistress and everyone thatstrove to prevent him. thedy in the coach, amazed and terrifiedat what Éä saw, ordered the coachman to draw aside a little, andset herself to watch this severe struggle, in the course of whichthe biscayan smote don quixote a mighty stroke on the shoulder overthe top of his buckler, which, given to one without armour, would havecleft him to the waist. don quixote, feeling the weight of thisprodigious blow, cried aloud, saying, "ody of my soul, dulcinea,flower of beauty,e to the aid of this your knight, who, infulfilling his obligations to your beauty, finds himself in thisextreme peril." to say this, to lift his sword, to Éälter himselfwell behind his buckler, and to assail the biscayan was the work of aninstant, determined as he was to venture all upon a single blow. thebiscayan, seeing hime on in this way, was convinced of his courageby his spirited bearing, and resolved to follow his example, so hewaited for him keeping well under cover of his cushion, being unableto execute any sort of manoeuvre with his mule, which, dead tiredand never meant for this kind of game, could not stir a step. on, then, as aforesaid, came don quixote against the warybiscayan, with uplifted sword and a firm intention of splitting him inhalf, while on his side the biscayan waited for him sword in hand, andunder the protection of his cushion; and all present stoodtrembling, waiting in suspense the result of blows such asthreatened to fall, and thedy in the coach and the rest of herfollowing were making a thousand vows and offerings to all theimages and shrines of spain, that god might deliver her squire and allof them from this great peril in which they found themselves. but itspoils all, that at this point and crisis the author of the historyleaves this battle impending, giving as excuse that he could findnothing more written about these achievements of don quixote than whathas been already set forth. it is true the second author of thiswork was unwilling to believe that a history so curious could havebeen allowed to fall under the sentence of oblivion, or that thewits of man²å could have been so undiscerning as not to preservein their archives or registries some documents referring to thisfamous knight; and this being his persuasion, he did not despair offinding the conclusion of this pleasant history, which, heavenfavouring him, he did find in a way that shall be rted in thesecond part. ²åpter ix in which is concluded and finiÉäd the terrific battle between thegant biscayan and the valiant manchegan in the first part of this history we left the valiant biscayan andthe renowned don quixote with drawn swords uplifted, ready todeliver two such furious shing blows that if they had fallen fund fair they would at least have split and cleft them asunder fromtop to toe andid them open like a pomegranate; and at this socritical point the delightful history came to a stop and stood cutshort without any intimation from the author where what was missingwas to be found. this distressed me greatly, because the pleasure derived from havingread such a small portion turned to vexation at the thought of thepoor ²ånce that presented itself of finding therge part that, soit seemed to me, was missing of such an interesting tale. itappeared to me to be a thing impossible and contrary to allprecedent that so good a knight should have been without some sageto undertake the task of writing his marvellous achievements; athing that was never wanting to any of those knights-errant who,they say, went after adventures; for every one of them had one ortwo sages as if made on purpose, who not only recorded their deeds butdescribed their most trifling thoughts and follies, however secretthey might be; and such a good knight could not have been sounfortunate as not to have what tir and others like him had inabundance. and so i could not bring myself to believe that such agant tale had been left maimed and mutted, and iid theme on time, the devourer and destroyer of all things, that hadeither concealed or consumed it. on the other hand, it struck me that, inasmuch as among his booksthere had been found such modern ones as "the enlightenment ofjealousy" and the "nymphs and Éäpherds of henares," his story mustlikewise be modern, and that though it might not be written, itmight exist in the memory of the people of his vige and of those inthe neighbourhood. this reflection kept me perplexed and longing toknow really and truly the whole life and wondrous deeds of ourfamous spaniard, don quixote of man²å, light and mirror ofmanchegan chivalry, and the first that in our age and in these so evildays devoted himself to thebour and exercise of the arms ofknight-errantry, righting wrongs, souring widows, and protectingdamsels of that sort that used to ride about, whip in hand, on theirpalfreys, with all their virginity about them, from mountain tomountain and valley to valley- for, if it were not for some ruffian,or boor with a hood and hatchet, or monstrous giant, that forced them,there were in days of yore damsels that at the end of eighty years, inall which time they had never slept a day under a roof, went totheir graves as much maids as the mothers that bore them. i say, then,that in these and other respects our gant don quixote is worthyof evesting and notable praise, nor should it be withheld even fromme for thebour and pains spent in searching for the conclusion ofthis delightful history; though i know well that if heaven, ²ånce andgood fortune had not helped me, the world would have remained deprivedof an entertainment and pleasure that for a couple of hours or somay well upy him who shall read it attentively. the discovery of iturred in this way. one day, as i was in the alcana of toledo, a boy came up to sellsome pamphlets and old papers to a silk mercer, and, as i am fond ofreading even the very scraps of paper in the streets, led by thisnatural bent of mine i took up one of the pamphlets the boy had forsale, and saw that it was in ²åracters which i recognised asarabic, and as i was unable to read them though i could recognisethem, i looked about to see if there were any spanish-speaking moriscoat hand to read them for me; nor was there any great difficulty infinding such an interpreter, for even had i sought one for an olderand betternguage i should have found him. in short, ²ånce providedme with one, who when i told him what i wanted and put the book intohis hands, opened it in the middle and after reading a little in itbegan tough. i asked him what he wasughing at, and he repliedthat it was at something the book had written in the margin by wayof a note. i bade him tell it to me; and he stillughing said, "inthe margin, as i told you, this is written: this dulcinea deltoboso so often mentioned in this history, had, they say, the besthand of any woman in all man²å for salting pigs." when i heard dulcinea del toboso named, i was struck with surpriseand amazement, for it urred to me at once that these pamphletscontained the history of don quixote. with this idea i pressed himto read the beginning, and doing so, turning the arabic offhand intocastilian, he told me it meant, "history of don quixote ofman²å, written by cide hamete benengeli, an arab historian." itrequired great caution to hide the joy i felt when the title of thebook reached my ears, and snatching it from the silk mercer, ibought all the papers and pamphlets from the boy for half a real;and if he had had his wits about him and had known how eager i was forthem, he might have safely calcted on making more than six reals bythe bargain. i withdrew at once with the morisco into the cloisterof the cathedral, and begged him to turn all these pamphlets thatrted to don quixote into the castilian tongue, without omittingor adding anything to them, offering him whatever payment hepleased. he was satisfied with two arrobas of raisins and twobuÉäls of wheat, and promised to trante them faithfully and withall despatch; but to make the matter easier, and not to let such aprecious find out of my hands, i took him to my house, where in littlemore than a month and a half he tranted the whole just as it is setdown here. in the first pamphlet the battle between don quixote and thebiscayan was drawn to the very life, they nted in the same attitudeas the history describes, their swords raised, and the one protectedby his buckler, the other by his cushion, and the biscayans mule sotrue to nature that it could be seen to be a hired one a bowshotoff. the biscayan had an inscription under his feet which said, "donsancho de azpeitia," which no doubt must have been his name; and atthe feet of rocinante was another that said, "don quixote."rocinante was marvellously portrayed, so long and thin, sonk andlean, with so much backbone and so far gone in consumption, that heshowed inly with what judgment and propriety the name ofrocinante had been bestowed upon him. near him was sancho panzaholding the halter of his ass, at whose feet was anotherbel thatsaid, "sancho zancas," and ording to the picture, he must havehad a big belly, a short body, and long shanks, for which reason, nodoubt, the names of panza and zancas were given him, for by thesetwo surnames the history several times calls him. some othertrifling particrs might be mentioned, but they are all of slightimportance and have nothing to do with the true rtion of thehistory; and no history can be bad so long as it is true.
µÚ12Ò³ if against the present one any objection be raised on the score ofits truth, it can only be that its author was an arab, as lying is averymon propensity with those of that nation; though, as theyare such enemies of ours, it is conceivable that there wereomissions rather than additions made in the course of it. and thisis my own opinion; for, where he could and should give freedom tohis pen in praise of so worthy a knight, he seems to me deliberatelyto pass it over in silence; which is ill done and worse contrived, forit is the business and duty of historians to be exact, truthful, andwholly free from passion, and neither interest nor fear, hatred norlove, should make them swerve from the path of truth, whose motheris history, rival of time, storehouse of deeds, witness for thepast, example and counsel for the present, and warning for the future.in this i know will be found all that can be desired in thepleasantest, and if it be wanting in any good quality, i maintain itis the fault of its hound of an author and not the fault of thesubject. to be brief, its second part, ording to the trantion,began in this way: with tren²ånt swords upraised and poised on high, it seemed asthough the two valiant and wrathfulbatants stood threateningheaven, and earth, and hell, with such resolution and determinationdid they bear themselves. the fiery biscayan was the first to strike ablow, which was delivered with such force and fury that had not thesword turned in its course, that single stroke would have sufficedto put an end to the bitter struggle and to all the adventures ofour knight; but that good fortune which reserved him for greaterthings, turned aside the sword of his adversary, so that although itsmote him upon the left shoulder, it did him no more harm than tostrip all that side of its armour, carrying away a great part of hiÉälmet with half of his ear, all which with fearful ruin fell to theground, leaving him in a sorry plight. good god! who is there that could properly describe the rage thatfilled the heart of our manchegan when he saw himself dealt with inthis fashion? all that can be said is, it was such that he againraised himself in his stirrups, and, grasping his sword more firmlywith both hands, he came down on the biscayan with such fury,smiting him full over the cushion and over the head, that- even sogood a shield proving useless- as if a mountain had fallen on him,he began to bleed from nose, mouth, and ears, reeling as if about tofall backwards from his mule, as no doubt he would have done had henot flung his arms about its neck; at the same time, however, heslipped his feet out of the stirrups and then unsped his arms,and the mule, taking fright at the terrible blow, made off acrossthe in, and with a few plunges flung its master to the ground.don quixote stood looking on very calmly, and, when he saw him fall,leaped from his horse and with great briskness ran to him, and,presenting the point of his sword to his eyes, bade him surrender,or he would cut his head off. the biscayan was so bewildered that hewas unable to answer a word, and it would have gone hard with him,so blind was don quixote, had not thedies in the coach, who hadhitherto been watching thebat in great terror, hastened to wherehe stood and implored him with earnest entreaties to grant them thegreat grace and favour of sparing their squires life; to which donquixote replied with much gravity and dignity, "in truth, fairdies,i am well content to do what ye ask of me; but it must be on onecondition and understanding, which is that this knight promise me togo to the vige of el toboso, and on my behalf present himselfbefore the peerlessdy dulcinea, that Éä deal with him as shallbe most pleasing to her." the terrified and disconstedies, without discussing donquixotes demand or asking who dulcinea might be, promised thattheir squire should do all that had beenmanded. "then, on the faith of that promise," said don quixote, "i shalldo him no further harm, though he well deserves it of me." ²åpter x of the pleasant discourse that passed between don quixote and hissquire sancho panza now by this time sancho had risen, rather the worse for the handlingof the friars muleteers, and stood watching the battle of his master,don quixote, and praying to god in his heart that it might be his willto grant him the victory, and that he might thereby win some ind tomake him governor of, as he had promised. seeing, therefore, thatthe struggle was now over, and that his master was returning tomount rocinante, he approached to hold the stirrup for him, and,before he could mount, he went on his knees before him, and taking hishand, kissed it saying, "may it please your worship, senor donquixote, to give me the government of that ind which has been wonin this hard fight, for be it ever so big i feel myself insufficient force to be able to govern it as much and as well as anyonein the world who has ever governed inds." to which don quixote replied, "thou must take notice, brothersancho, that this adventure and those like it are not adventures ofinds, but of cross-roads, in which nothing is got except a brokenhead or an ear the less: have patience, for adventures will presentthemselves from which i may make you, not only a governor, butsomething more." sancho gave him many thanks, and again kissing his hand and theskirt of his hauberk, helped him to mount rocinante, and mountinghis ass himself, proceeded to follow his master, who at a briskpace, without taking leave, or saying anything further to thediesbelonging to the coach, turned into a wood that was hard by. sanchofollowed him at his asss best trot, but rocinante stepped out sothat, seeing himself left behind, he was forced to call to hismaster to wait for him. don quixote did so, reining in rocinante untilhis weary squire came up, who on reaching him said, "it seems to me,senor, it would be prudent in us to go and take refuge in some church,for, seeing how mauled he with whom you fought has been left, itwill be no wonder if they give information of the affair to the holybrotherhood and arrest us, and, faith, if they do, before weeout of gaol we shall have to sweat for it." "peace," said don quixote; "where hast thou ever seen or heardthat a knight-errant has been arraigned before a court of justice,however many homicides he may havemitted?" "i know nothing about omecils," answered sancho, "nor in my lifehave had anything to do with one; i only know that the holybrotherhood looks after those who fight in the fields, and in thatother matter i do not meddle." "then thou needst have no uneasiness, my friend," said donquixote, "for i will deliver thee out of the hands of the ²åldeans,much more out of those of the brotherhood. but tell me, as thoulivest, hast thou seen a more valiant knight than i in all the knownworld; hast thou read in history of any who has or had higher mettlein attack, more spirit in maintaining it, more dexterity in woundingor skill in overthrowing?" "the truth is," answered sancho, "that i have never read anyhistory, for i can neither read nor write, but what i will ventureto bet is that a more daring master than your worship i have neverserved in all the days of my life, and god grant that this daring benot paid for where i have said; what i beg of your worship is to dressyour wound, for a great deal of blood flows from that ear, and ihave here some lint and a little white ointment in the alforjas." "all that might be well dispensed with," said don quixote, "if i hadremembered to make a vial of the balsam of fierabras, for time andmedicine are saved by one single drop." "what vial and what balsam is that?" said sancho panza. "it is a balsam," answered don quixote, "the receipt of which i havein my memory, with which one need have no fear of death, or dreaddying of any wound; and so when i make it and give it to thee thouhast nothing to do when in some battle thou seest they have cut mein half through the middle of the body- as is wont to happenfrequently,- but neatly and with great nicety, ere the bloodcongeal, to ce that portion of the body which shall have fallento the ground upon the other half which remains in the saddle,taking care to fit it on evenly and exactly. then thou shalt give meto drink but two drops of the balsam i have mentioned, and thoushalt see me be sounder than an apple." "if that be so," said panza, "i renounce henceforth the governmentof the promised ind, and desire nothing more in payment of mymany and faithful services than that your worship give me thereceipt of this supreme liquor, for i am persuaded it will be worthmore than two reals an ounce anywhere, and i want no more to passthe rest of my life in ease and honour; but it remains to be told ifit costs much to make it." "with less than three reals, six quarts of it may be made," said donquixote. "sinner that i am!" said sancho, "then why does your worship put offmaking it and teaching it to me?" "peace, friend," answered don quixote; "greater secrets i mean toteach thee and greater favours to bestow upon thee; and for thepresent let us see to the dressing, for my ear pains me more than icould wish." sancho took out some lint and ointment from the alforjas; but whendon quixote came to see his helmet shattered, he was like to losehis senses, and pping his hand upon his sword and raising hiseyes to heaven, be said, "i swear by the creator of all things and thefour gospels in their fullest extent, to do as the great marquis ofmantua did when he swore to avenge the death of his nephew baldwin£¨and that was not to eat bread from a table-cloth, nor embrace hiswife, and other points which, though i cannot now call them to mind, ihere grant as expressed£© until i takeplete vengeance upon himwho hasmitted such an offence against me."
µÚ13Ò³ hearing this, sancho said to him, "your worship should bear in mind,senor don quixote, that if the knight has done what wasmandedhim in going to present himself before mydy dulcinea del toboso, hewill have done all that he was bound to do, and does not deservefurther punishment unless hemits some new offence." "thou hast said well and hit the point," answered don quixote; andso i recall the oath in so far as rtes to taking fresh vengeance onhim, but i make and confirm it anew to lead the life i have said untilsuch time as i take by force from some knight another helmet such asthis and as good; and think not, sancho, that i am raising smokewith straw in doing so, for i have one to imitate in the matter, sincethe very same thing to a hair happened in the case of mambrinoÉälmet, which cost sacripante so dear." "senor," replied sancho, "let your worship send all such oaths tothe devil, for they are very pernicious to salvation and prejudicialto the conscience; just tell me now, if for several days toe wefall in with no man armed with a helmet, what are we to do? is theoath to be observed in spite of all the inconvenience and difortit will be to sleep in your clothes, and not to sleep in a house,and a thousand other mortifications contained in the oath of thatold fool the marquis of mantua, which your worship is now wanting torevive? let your worship observe that there are no men in armourtravelling on any of these roads, nothing but carriers and carters,who not only do not wear helmets, but perhaps never heard tell of themall their lives." "thou art wrong there," said don quixote, "for we shall not havebeen above two hours among these cross-roads before we see more men inarmour than came to albraca to win the fair angelica." "enough," said sancho; "so be it then, and god grant us sess, andthat the time for winning that ind which is costing me so dearmay soone, and then let me die." "i have already told thee, sancho," said don quixote, "not to givethyself any uneasiness on that score; for if an ind should fail,there is the kingdom of denmark, or of sobradisa, which will fitthee as a ring fits the finger, and all the more that, being onterra firma, thou wilt all the better enjoy thyself. but let usleave that to its own time; see if thou hast anything for us to eat inthose alforjas, because we must presently go in quest of some castlewhere we may lodge to-night and make the balsam i told thee of, fori swear to thee by god, this ear is giving me great pain." "i have here an onion and a little cheese and a few scraps ofbread," said sancho, "but they are not victuals fit for a valiantknight like your worship." "how little thou knowest about it," answered don quixote; "i wouldhave thee to know, sancho, that it is the glory of knights-errant togo without eating for a month, and even when they do eat, that itshould be of whates first to hand; and this would have beenclear to thee hadst thou read as many histories as i have, for, thoughthey are very many, among them all i have found no mention made ofknights-errant eating, unless by ident or at some sumptuousbanquets prepared for them, and the rest of the time they passed indalliance. and though it is in they could not do without eating andperforming all the other natural functions, because, in fact, theywere men like ourselves, it is in too that, wandering as they didthe most part of their lives through woods and wilds and without acook, their most usual fare would be rustic viands such as thosethou now offer me; so that, friend sancho, let not that distressthee which pleases me, and do not seek to make a new world orpervert knight-errantry." "pardon me, your worship," said sancho, "for, as i cannot read orwrite, as i said just now, i neither know norprehend the rulesof the profession of chivalry: henceforward i will stock thealforjas with every kind of dry fruit for your worship, as you are aknight; and for myself, as i am not one, i will furnish them withpoultry and other things more substantial." "i do not say, sancho," replied don quixote, "that it isimperative on knights-errant not to eat anything else but the fruitsthou speakest of; only that their more usual diet must be those, andcertain herbs they found in the fields which they knew and i knowtoo." "a good thing it is," answered sancho, "to know those herbs, forto my thinking it will be needful some day to put that knowledgeinto practice." and here taking out what he said he had brought, the pair made theirrepast peaceably and sociably. but anxious to find quarters for thenight, they with all despatch made an end of their poor dry fare,mounted at once, and made haste to reach some habitation beforenight set in; but daylight and the hope of seeding in theirobject failed them close by the huts of some goatherds, so theydetermined to pass the night there, and it was as much to sanchosdiscontent not to have reached a house, as it was to his masterssatisfaction to sleep under the open heaven, for he fancied thateach time this happened to him he performed an act of ownership thathelped to prove his chivalry. ²åpter xi of what befell don quixote with certain goatherds he was cordially weed by the goatherds, and sancho, having asbest he could put up rocinante and the ass, drew towards the fragrancethat came from some pieces of salted goat simmering in a pot on thefire; and though he would have liked at once to try if they were readyto be transferred from the pot to the stomach, he refrained from doingso as the goatherds removed them from the fire, andyingÉäepskins on the ground, quickly spread their rude table, and withsigns of hearty good-will invited them both to share what they had.round the skins six of the men belonging to the fold seatedthemselves, having first with rough politeness pressed don quixoteto take a seat upon a trough which they ced for him upside down.don quixote seated himself, and sancho remained standing to servethe cup, which was made of horn. seeing him standing, his mastersaid to him: "that thou mayest see, sancho, the good that knight-errantrycontains in itself, and how those who fill any office in it are on thehigh road to be speedily honoured and esteemed by the world, idesire that thou seat thyself here at my side and in thepany ofthese worthy people, and that thou be one with me who am thy masterand natural lord, and that thou eat from my te and drink fromwhatever i drink from; for the same may be said of knight-errantryas of love, that it levels all." "great thanks," said sancho, "but i may tell your worship thatprovided i have enough to eat, i can eat it as well, or better,standing, and by myself, than seated alongside of an emperor. andindeed, if the truth is to be told, what i eat in my corner withoutform or fuss has much more relish for me, even though it be breadand onions, than the turkeys of those other tables where i am forcedto chew slowly, drink little, wipe my mouth every minute, and cannotsneeze or cough if i want or do other things that are the privilegesof liberty and solitude. so, senor, as for these honours which yourworship would put upon me as a servant and follower ofknight-errantry, ex²ånge them for other things which may be of moreuse and advantage to me; for these, though i fully acknowledge them asreceived, i renounce from this moment to the end of the world." "for all that," said don quixote, "thou must seat thyself, becausehim who humbleth himself god exalteth;" and seizing him by the armhe forced him to sit down beside himself. the goatherds did not understand this jargon about squires andknights-errant, and all they did was to eat in silence and stare attheir guests, who with great elegance and appetite were stowing awaypieces as big as ones fist. the course of meat finiÉäd, theyspread upon the Éäepskins a great heap of parched acorns, and withthem they put down a half cheese harder than if it had been made ofmortar. all this while the horn was not idle, for it went round soconstantly, now full, now empty, like the bucket of a water-wheel,that it soon drained one of the two wine-skins that were in sight.when don quixote had quite appeased his appetite he took up ahandful of the acorns, and contemting them attentively deliveredhimself somewhat in this fashion: "happy the age, happy the time, to which the ancients gave thename of golden, not because in that fortunate age the gold socoveted in this our iron one was gained without toil, but because theythat lived in it knew not the two words "mine" and "thine"! in thatblessed age all things were inmon; to win the daily food nobourwas required of any save to stretch forth his hand and gather itfrom the sturdy oaks that stood generously inviting him with theirsweet ripe fruit. the clear streams and running brooks yielded theirsavoury limpid waters in noble abundance. the busy and sagaciousbees fixed their republic in the clefts of the rocks and hollows ofthe trees, offering without usance the plenteous produce of theirfragrant toil to every hand. the mighty cork trees, unenforced save oftheir own courtesy, Éäd the broad light bark that served at firstto roof the houses supported by rude stakes, a protection againstthe inclemency of heaven alone. then all was peace, all friendship,all concord; as yet the dull share of the crooked plough had not daredto rend and pierce the tender bowels of our first mother thatwithoutpulsion yielded from every portion of her broad fertilebosom all that could satisfy, sustain, and delight the children thatthen possessed her. then was it that the innocent and fair youngÉäpherdess roamed from vale to vale and hill to hill, with flowinglocks, and no more garments than were needful modestly to cover whatmodesty seeks and ever sought to hide. nor were their ornaments likethose in use to-day, set off by tyrian purple, and silk tortured inendless fashions, but the wreathed leaves of the green dock and ivy,wherewith they went as bravely and bingly decked as our courtdames with all the rare and far-fetched artifices that idlecuriosity has taught them. then the love-thoughts of the heart clothedthemselves simply and naturally as the heart conceived them, norsought tomend themselves by forced and rambling verbiage. fraud,deceit, or malice had then not yet mingled with truth and sincerity.justice held her ground, undisturbed and unassailed by the effortsof favour and of interest, that now so much impair, pervert, and besether. arbitraryw had not yet establiÉäd itself in the mind of thejudge, for then there was no cause to judge and no one to be judged.maidens and modesty, as i have said, wandered at will alone andunattended, without fear of insult fromwlessness or libertineassault, and if they were undone it was of their own will andpleasure. but now in this hateful age of ours not one is safe, notthough some newbyrinth like that of crete conceal and surround her;even there the pestilence of gantry will make its way to themthrough chinks or on the air by the zeal of its ursedimportunity, and, despite of all seclusion, lead them to ruin. indefence of these, as time advanced and wickedness increased, the orderof knights-errant was instituted, to defend maidens, to protect widowsand to sour the orphans and the needy. to this order i belong,brother goatherds, to whom i return thanks for the hospitality andkindly wee ye offer me and my squire; for though by naturalwall living are bound to show favour to knights-errant, yet, seeingthat without knowing this obligation ye have weed and feastedme, it is right that with all the good-will in my power i should thankyou for yours."
µÚ14Ò³ all this long harangue £¨which might very well have been spared£©our knight delivered because the acorns they gave him reminded himof the golden age; and the whim seized him to address all thisunnecessary argument to the goatherds, who listened to him gaping inamazement without saying a word in reply. sancho likewise held hispeace and ate acorns, and paid repeated visits to the secondwine-skin, which they had hung up on a cork tree to keep the winecool. don quixote was longer in talking than the supper in finishing, atthe end of which one of the goatherds said, "that your worship,senor knight-errant, may say with more truth that we show youhospitality with ready good-will, we will give you amusement andpleasure by making one of ourrades sing: he will be here beforelong, and he is a very intelligent youth and deep in love, and what ismore he can read and write and y on the rebeck to perfection." the goatherd had hardly done speaking, when the notes of therebeck reached their ears; and shortly after, the yer came up, avery good-looking young man of about two-and-twenty. hisradesasked him if he had supped, and on his replying that he had, he whohad already made the offer said to him: "in that case, antonio, thou mayest as well do us the pleasure ofsinging a little, that the gentleman, our guest, may see that evenin the mountains and woods there are musicians: we have told him ofthy aplishments, and we want thee to show them and prove that wesay true; so, as thou livest, pray sit down and sing that bad aboutthy love that thy uncle the prebendary made thee, and that was so muchliked in the town." "with all my heart," said the young man, and without waiting formore pressing he seated himself on the trunk of a felled oak, andtuning his rebeck, presently began to sing to these words. antonios bad thou dost love me well, ; well i know it, even though loves mute tongues, thine eyes, have never by their nces told me so. for i know my love thou knowest, therefore thine to im i dare: once it ceases to be secret, love need never feel despair. true it is, , sometimes thou hast all too inly shown that thy heart is brass in hardness, and thy snowy bosom stone. yet for all that, in thy coyness, and thy fickle fits between, hope is there- at least the border of her garment may be seen. lures to faith are they, those glimpses, and to faith in thee i hold; kindness cannot make it stronger, coldness cannot make it cold. if it be that love is gentle, in thy gentleness i see something holding out assurance to the hope of winning thee. if it be that in devotion lies a power hearts to move, that which every day i show thee, helpful to my suit should prove. many a time thou must have noticed- if to notice thou dost care- how i go about on monday dressed in all my sunday wear. loves eyes love to look on brightness; love loves what is gaily drest; sunday, monday, all i care is thou shouldst see me in my best. no ount i make of dances, or of strains that pleased thee so, keeping thee awake from midnight till the cocks began to crow; or of how i roundly swore it that theres none so fair as thou; true it is, but as i said it, by the girls im hated now. for teresa of the hillside at my praise of thee was sore; said, "you think you love an angel; its a monkey you adore; "caught by all her glittering trinkets, and her borrowed braids of hair, and a host of made-up beauties that would love himself ensnare." t was a lie, and so i told her, and her cousin at the word gave me his defiance for it; and what followed thou hast heard. mine is no high-flown affection, mine no passion par amours- as they call it- what i offer is an honest love, and pure. cunning cords the holy church has, cords of softest silk they be; put thy neck beneath the yoke, dear; mine will follow, thou wilt see. else- and once for all i swear it by the saint of most renown- if i ever quit the mountains, t will be in a friars gown. here the goatherd brought his song to an end, and though don quixoteentreated him to sing more, sancho had no mind that way, being moreinclined for sleep than for listening to songs; so said he to hismaster, "your worship will do well to settle at once where you mean topass the night, for thebour these good men are at all day doesnot allow them to spend the night in singing." "i understand thee, sancho," replied don quixote; "i perceiveclearly that those visits to the wine-skin demandpensation insleep rather than in music." "its sweet to us all, blessed be god," said sancho. "i do not deny it," replied don quixote; "but settle thyself wherethou wilt; those of my calling are more bingly employed inwatching than in sleeping; still it would be as well if thou wert todress this ear for me again, for it is giving me more pain than itneed." sancho did as he bade him, but one of the goatherds, seeing thewound, told him not to be uneasy, as he would apply a remedy withwhich it would be soon healed; and gathering some leaves ofrosemary, of which there was a great quantity there, he chewed themand mixed them with a little salt, and applying them to the ear hesecured them firmly with a bandage, assuring him that no othertreatment would be required, and so it proved. ²åpter xii of what a goatherd rted to those with don quixote just then another young man, one of those who fetched theirprovisions from the vige, came up and said, "do you know what isgoing on in the vige,rades?" "how could we know it?" replied one of them. "well, then, you must know," continued the young man, "thismorning that famous student-Éäpherd called chrysostom died, and it isrumoured that he died of love for that devil of a vige girl thedaughter of guillermo the rich, Éä that wanders about the woldÉäre in the dress of a Éäpherdess." "you mean marc?" said one. "her i mean," answered the goatherd; "and the best of it is, hehas directed in his will that he is to be buried in the fields likea moor, and at the foot of the rock where the cork-tree spring is,because, as the story goes £¨and they say he himself said so£©£¬ that wasthe ce where he first saw her. and he has also left otherdirections which the clergy of the vige say should not and must notbe obeyed because they savour of paganism. to all which his greatfriend ambrosio the student, he who, like him, also went dressed asa Éäpherd, replies that everything must be done without anyomission ording to the directions left by chrysostom, and aboutthis the vige is all inmotion; however, report says that, afterall, what ambrosio and all the Éäpherds his friends desire will bedone, and to-morrow they areing to bury him with great ceremonywhere i said. i am sure it will be something worth seeing; at leasti will not fail to go and see it even if i knew i should not return tothe vige tomorrow." "we will do the same," answered the goatherds, "and cast lots to seewho must stay to mind the goats of all." "thou sayest well, pedro," said one, "though there will be no needof taking that trouble, for i will stay behind for all; and dontsuppose it is virtue or want of curiosity in me; it is that thesplinter that ran into my foot the other day will not let me walk." "for all that, we thank thee," answered pedro. don quixote asked pedro to tell him who the dead man was and who theÉäpherdess, to which pedro replied that all he knew was that the deadman was a wealthy gentleman belonging to a vige in those mountains,who had been a student at smanca for many years, at the end ofwhich he returned to his vige with the reputation of being verylearned and deeply read. "above all, they said, he was learned inthe science of the stars and of what went on yonder in the heavens andthe sun and the moon, for he told us of the cris of the sun and moonto exact time." "eclipse it is called, friend, not cris, the darkening of thosetwo luminaries," said don quixote; but pedro, not troubling himselfwith trifles, went on with his story, saying, "also he foretold whenthe year was going to be one of abundance or estility." "sterility, you mean," said don quixote. "sterility or estility," answered pedro, "it is all the same inthe end. and i can tell you that by this his father and friends whobelieved him grew very rich because they did as he advised them,bidding them sow barley this year, not wheat; this year you may sowpulse and not barley; the next there will be a full oil crop, andthe three following not a drop will be got."
µÚ15Ò³ "that science is called astrology," said don quixote. "i do not know what it is called," replied pedro, "but i know thathe knew all this and more besides. but, to make an end, not manymonths had passed after he returned from smanca, when one day heappeared dressed as a Éäpherd with his crook and Éäepskin, havingput off the long gown he wore as a schr; and at the same time hisgreat friend, ambrosio by name, who had been hispanion in hisstudies, took to the Éäpherds dress with him. i forgot to say thatchrysostom, who is dead, was a great man for writing verses, so muchso that he made carols for christmas eve, and ys for corpuschristi, which the young men of our vige acted, and all said theywere excellent. when the vigers saw the two schrs sounexpectedly appearing in Éäpherds dress, they were lost inwonder, and could not guess what had led them to make so extraordinarya ²ånge. about this time the father of our chrysostom died, and hewas left heir to arge amount of property in ²åttels as well asinnd, no small number of cattle and Éäep, and arge sum ofmoney, of all of which the young man was left dissolute owner, andindeed he was deserving of it all, for he was a very goodrade, andkind-hearted, and a friend of worthy folk, and had a countenancelike a benediction. presently it came to be known that he had²ånged his dress with no other object than to wander about thesewastes after that Éäpherdess marc ourd mentioned a while ago,with whom the deceased chrysostom had fallen in love. and i musttell you now, for it is well you should know it, who this girl is;perhaps, and even without any perhaps, you will not have heardanything like it all the days of your life, though you should livemore years than sarna." "say sarra," said don quixote, unable to endure the goatherdsconfusion of words. "the sarna lives long enough," answered pedro; "and if, senor, youmust go finding fault with words at every step, we shall not make anend of it this twelvemonth." "pardon me, friend," said don quixote; "but, as there is such adifference between sarna and sarra, i told you of it; however, youhave answered very rightly, for sarna lives longer than sarra: socontinue your story, and i will not object any more to anything." "i say then, my dear sir," said the goatherd, "that in our vigethere was a farmer even richer than the father of chrysostom, whowas named guillermo, and upon whom god bestowed, over and abovegreat wealth, a daughter at whose birth her mother died, the mostrespected woman there was in this neighbourhood; i fancy i can see hernow with that countenance which had the sun on one side and the moonon the other; and moreover active, and kind to the poor, for which itrust that at the present moment her soul is in bliss with god inthe other world. her husband guillermo died of grief at the death ofso good a wife, leaving his daughter marc, a child and rich, to thecare of an uncle of hers, a priest and prebendary in our vige.the girl grew up with such beauty that it reminded us of her mothers,which was very great, and yet it was thought that the daughters wouldexceed it; and so when Éä reached the age of fourteen to fifteenyears nobody beheld her but blessed god that had made her sobeautiful, and the greater number were in love with her pastredemption. her uncle kept her in great seclusion and retirement,but for all that the fame of her great beauty spread so that, aswell for it as for her great wealth, her uncle was asked, solicited,and importuned, to give her in marriage not only by those of ourtown but of those many leagues round, and by the persons of highestquality in them. but he, being a good christian man, though he desiredto give her in marriage at once, seeing her to be old enough, wasunwilling to do so without her consent, not that he had any eye to thegain and profit which the custody of the girls property brought himwhile he put off her marriage; and, faith, this was said in praiseof the good priest in more than one set in the town. for i wouldhave you know, sir errant, that in these little viges everything istalked about and everything is carped at, and rest assured, as i am,that the priest must be over and above good who forces hisparishioners to speak well of him, especially in viges." "that is the truth," said don quixote; "but go on, for the storyis very good, and you, good pedro, tell it with very good grace." "may that of the lord not be wanting to me," said pedro; "that isthe one to have. to proceed; you must know that though the uncle putbefore his niece and described to her the qualities of each one inparticr of the many who had asked her in marriage, begging her tomarry and make a choice ording to her own taste, Éä never gave anyother answer than that Éä had no desire to marry just yet, and thatbeing so young Éä did not think herself fit to bear the burden ofmatrimony. at these, to all appearance, reasonable excuses that Éämade, her uncle ceased to urge her, and waited till Éä was somewhatmore advanced in age and could mate herself to her own liking. for,said he- and he said quite right- parents are not to settle childrenin life against their will. but when one least looked for it, lo andbehold! one day the demure marc makes her appearance turnedÉäpherdess; and, in spite of her uncle and all those of the town thatstrove to dissuade her, took to going a-field with the otherÉäpherdsses of the vige, and tending her own flock. and so,since Éä appeared in public, and her beauty came to be seen openly, icould not well tell you how many rich youths, gentlemen andpeasants, have adopted the costume of chrysostom, and go about thesefields making love to her. one of these, as has been already said, wasour deceased friend, of whom they say that he did not love but adoreher. but you must not suppose, because marc chose a life of suchliberty and independence, and of so little or rather no retirement,that Éä has given any asion, or even the semnce of one, fordisparagement of her purity and modesty; on the contrary, such andso great is the vignce with which Éä watches over her honour, thatof all those that court and woo her not one has boasted, or can withtruth boast, that Éä has given him any hope however small ofobtaining his desire. for although Éä does not avoid or shun thesociety and conversation of the Éäpherds, and treats them courteouslyand kindly, should any one of theme to dere his intention toher, though it be one as proper and holy as that of matrimony, Éäflings him from her like a catapult. and with this kind of dispositionÉä does more harm in this country than if the gue had got into it,for her affability and her beauty draw on the hearts of those thatassociate with her to love her and to court her, but her scorn and herfrankness bring them to the brink of despair; and so they know notwhat to say save to proim her aloud cruel and hard-hearted, andother names of the same sort which well describe the nature of her²åracter; and if you should remain here any time, senor, you wouldhear these hills and valleys resounding with thements of therejected ones who pursue her. not far from this there is a spotwhere there are a couple of dozen of tall beeches, and there is notone of them but has carved and written on its smooth bark the nameof marc, and above some a crown carved on the same tree as thoughher lover would say more inly that marc wore and deserved thatof all human beauty. here one Éäpherd is sighing, there another imenting; there love songs are heard, here despairing elegies. onewill pass all the hours of the night seated at the foot of some oak orrock, and there, without having closed his weeping eyes, the sun findshim in the morning bemused and bereft of sense; and another withoutrelief or respite to his sighs, stretched on the burning sand in thefull heat of the sultry summer noontide, makes his appeal to thpassionate heavens, and over one and the other, over these and all,the beautiful marc triumphs free and careless. and all of us thatknow her are waiting to see what her pride wille to, and who is tobe the happy man that will seed in taming a nature so formidableand gaining possession of a beauty so supreme. all that i have toldyou being such well-establiÉäd truth, i am persuaded that what theysay of the cause of chrysostoms death, as ourd told us, is thesame. and so i advise you, senor, fail not to be present to-morrowat his burial, which will be well worth seeing, for chrysostom hadmany friends, and it is not half a league from this ce to wherehe directed he should be buried." "i will make a point of it," said don quixote, "and i thank youfor the pleasure you have given me by rting so interesting a tale." "oh," said the goatherd, "i do not know even the half of what hashappened to the lovers of marc, but perhaps to-morrow we may fallin with some Éäpherd on the road who can tell us; and now it willbe well for you to go and sleep under cover, for the night air mayhurt your wound, though with the remedy i have applied to you there isno fear of an untoward result." sancho panza, who was wishing the goatherds loquacity at the devil,on his part begged his master to go into pedros hut to sleep. hedid so, and passed all the rest of the night in thinking of hisdydulcinea, in imitation of the lovers of marc. sancho panzasettled himself between rocinante and his ass, and slept, not like alover who had been discarded, but like a man who had been soundlykicked. ²åpter xiii in which is ended the story of the Éäpherdess marc, with otherincidents
µÚ16Ò³ but hardly had day begun to show itself through the balconies of theeast, when five of the six goatherds came to rouse don quixote andtell him that if he was still of a mind to go and see the famousburial of chrysostom they would bear himpany. don quixote, whodesired nothing better, rose and ordered sancho to saddle and pannt once, which he did with all despatch, and with the same they allset out forthwith. they had not gone a quarter of a league when at themeeting of two paths they sawing towards them some six Éäpherdsdressed in ck Éäepskins and with their heads crowned with gandsof cypress and bitter oleander. each of them carried a stout hollystaff in his hand, and along with them there came two men of qualityon horseback in handsome travelling dress, with three servants on footapanying them. courteous salutations were ex²ånged on meeting,and inquiring one of the other which way each party was going, theylearned that all were bound for the scene of the burial, so theywent on all together. one of those on horseback addressing hispanion said to him,"it seems to me, senor vivaldo, that we may reckon as well spent thedy we shall incur in seeing this remarkable funeral, for remarkableit cannot but be judging by the strange things these Éäpherds havetold us, of both the dead Éäpherd and homicide Éäpherdess." "so i think too," replied vivaldo, "and i would dy not to say aday, but four, for the sake of seeing it." don quixote asked them what it was they had heard of marc andchrysostom. the traveller answered that the same morning they hadmet these Éäpherds, and seeing them dressed in this mournfulfashion they had asked them the reason of their appearing in such aguise; which one of them gave, describing the strange behaviour andbeauty of a Éäpherdess called marc, and the loves of many whocourted her, together with the death of that chrysostom to whoseburial they were going. in short, he repeated all that pedro hadrted to don quixote. this conversation dropped, and another wasmenced by him whowas called vivaldo asking don quixote what was the reason that led himto go armed in that fashion in a country so peaceful. to which donquixote replied, "the pursuit of my calling does not allow or permitme to go in any other fashion; easy life, enjoyment, and repose wereinvented for soft courtiers, but toil, unrest, and arms wereinvented and made for those alone whom the world calls knights-errant,of whom i, though unworthy, am the least of all." the instant they heard this all set him down as mad, and thebetter to settle the point and discover what kind of madness hiswas, vivaldo proceeded to ask him what knights-errant meant. "have not your worships," replied don quixote, "read the annalsand histories of ennd, in which are recorded the famous deeds ofking arthur, whom we in our popr castilian invariably call kingartus, with regard to whom it is an ancient tradition, andmonlyreceived all over that kingdom of great britain, that this king didnot die, but was ²ånged by magic art into a raven, and that inprocess of time he is to return to reign and recover his kingdom andsceptre; for which reason it cannot be proved that from that time tothis any englishman ever killed a raven? well, then, in the time ofthis good king that famous order of chivalry of the knights of theround table was instituted, and the amour of donncelot of thke with the queen guinevere urred, precisely as is there rted,the go-between and confidante therein being the highly honourable damequintanona, whence came that bad so well known and widely spread inour spain- o never surely was there knight so served by hand of dame, as served was he sirncelot hight when he from britain came-with all the sweet and delectable course of his achievements in loveand war. handed down from that time, then, this order of chivalry wenton extending and spreading itself over many and various parts of theworld; and in it, famous and renowned for their deeds, were the mightyamadis of gaul with all his sons and descendants to the fifthgeneration, and the valiant felixmarte of hircania, and the neversufficiently praised tirante el nco, and in our own days almostwe have seen and heard and talked with the invincible knight donbelianis of greece. this, then, sirs, is to be a knight-errant, andwhat i have spoken of is the order of his chivalry, of which, as ihave already said, i, though a sinner, have made profession, andwhat the aforesaid knights professed that same do i profess, and soi go through these solitudes and wilds seeking adventures, resolved insoul to oppose my arm and person to the most perilous that fortune mayoffer me in aid of the weak and needy." by these words of his the travellers were able to satisfy themselvesof don quixotes being out of his senses and of the form of madnessthat overmastered him, at which they felt the same astonishment thatall felt on first bing acquainted with it; and vivaldo, who wasa person of great shrewdness and of a lively temperament, in orderto beguile the short journey which they said was required to reach themountain, the scene of the burial, sought to give him an opportunityof going on with his absurdities. so he said to him, "it seems tome, senor knight-errant, that your worship has made choice of one ofthe most austere professions in the world, and i imagine even thatof the carthusian monks is not so austere." "as austere it may perhaps be," replied our don quixote, "but sonecessary for the world i am very much inclined to doubt. for, ifthe truth is to be told, the soldier who executes what his captainorders does no less than the captain himself who gives the order. mymeaning, is, that churchmen in peace and quiet pray to heaven forthe welfare of the world, but we soldiers and knights carry intoeffect what they pray for, defending it with the might of our arms andthe edge of our swords, not under Éälter but in the open air, atarget for the intolerable rays of the sun in summer and thepiercing frosts of winter. thus are we gods ministers on earth andthe arms by which his justice is done therein. and as the businessof war and all that rtes and belongs to it cannot be conductedwithout exceeding great sweat, toil, and exertion, it follows thatthose who make it their profession have undoubtedly morebour thanthose who in tranquil peace and quiet are engaged in praying to god tohelp the weak. i do not mean to say, nor does it enter into mythoughts, that the knight-errants calling is as good as that of themonk in his cell; i would merely infer from what i endure myselfthat it is beyond a doubt a moreborious and a more bbouredone, a hungrier and thirstier, a wretcheder, raggeder, and lousier;for there is no reason to doubt that the knights-errant of yoreendured much hardship in the course of their lives. and if some ofthem by the might of their arms did rise to be emperors, in faith itcost them dear in the matter of blood and sweat; and if those whoattained to that rank had not had magicians and sages to help themthey would have beenpletely baulked in their ambition anddisappointed in their hopes." "that is my own opinion," replied the traveller; "but one thingamong many others seems to me very wrong in knights-errant, and thatis that when they find themselves about to engage in some mighty andperilous adventure in which there is manifest danger of losing theirlives, they never at the moment of engaging in it think omending themselves to god, as is the duty of every good christianin like peril; instead of which theymend themselves to theidies with as much devotion as if these were their gods, a thingwhich seems to me to savour somewhat of heathenism." "sir," answered don quixote, "that cannot be on any ount omitted,and the knight-errant would be disgraced who acted otherwise: for itis usual and customary in knight-errantry that the knight-errant,who on engaging in any great feat of arms has hisdy before him,should turn his eyes towards her softly and lovingly, as though withthem entreating her to favour and protect him in the hazardous venturehe is about to undertake, and even though no one hear him, he is boundto say certain words between his teeth,mending himself to her withall his heart, and of this we have innumerable instances in thehistories. nor is it to be supposed from this that they are to omimending themselves to god, for there will be time and opportunityfor doing so while they are engaged in their task." "for all that," answered the traveller, "i feel some doubt still,because often i have read how words will arise between twoknights-errant, and from one thing to another ites about thattheir anger kindles and they wheel their horses round and take agood stretch of field, and then without any more ado at the top oftheir speed theye to the ²årge, and in mid-career they are wonttomend themselves to theirdies; and whatmonlyes ofthe encounter is that one falls over the haunches of his horse piercedthrough and through by his antagonistsnce, and as for the other,it is only by holding on to the mane of his horse that he can helpfalling to the ground; but i know not how the dead man had time tmend himself to god in the course of such rapid work as this; itwould have been better if those words which he spent inmendinghimself to hisdy in the midst of his career had been devoted to hisduty and obligation as a christian. moreover, it is my belief that allknights-errant have notdies tomend themselves to, for theyare not all in love."
µÚ17Ò³ "that is impossible," said don quixote: "i say it is impossible thatthere could be a knight-errant without ady, because to such it isas natural and proper to be in love as to the heavens to have stars:most certainly no history has been seen in which there is to befound a knight-errant without an amour, and for the simple reason thatwithout one he would be held no legitimate knight but a bastard, andone who had gained entrance into the stronghold of the saidknighthood, not by the door, but over the wall like a thief and arobber." "nevertheless," said the traveller, "if i remember rightly, ithink i have read that don gor, the brother of the valiant amadisof gaul, never had any specialdy to whom he mightmendhimself, and yet he was not the less esteemed, and was a very stoutand famous knight." to which our don quixote made answer, "sir, one solitary swallowdoes not make summer; moreover, i know that knight was in secretvery deeply in love; besides which, that way of falling in love withall that took his fancy was a natural propensity which he could notcontrol. but, in short, it is very manifest that he had one alone whomhe made mistress of his will, to whom hemended himself veryfrequently and very secretly, for he prided himself on being areticent knight." "then if it be essential that every knight-errant should be inlove," said the traveller, "it may be fairly supposed that yourworship is so, as you are of the order; and if you do not prideyourself on being as reticent as don gor, i entreat you asearnestly as i can, in the name of all thispany and in my own,to inform us of the name, country, rank, and beauty of yourdy,for Éä will esteem herself fortunate if all the world knows thatÉä is loved and served by such a knight as your worship seems to be." at this don quixote heaved a deep sigh and said, "i cannot saypositively whether my sweet enemy is pleased or not that the worldshould know i serve her; i can only say in answer to what has beenso courteously asked of me, that her name is dulcinea, her countryel toboso, a vige of man²å, her rank must be at least that of aprincess, since Éä is my queen anddy, and her beauty superhuman,since all the impossible and fanciful attributes of beauty which thepoets apply to theirdies are verified in her; for her hairs aregold, her forehead elysian fields, her eyebrows rainbows, her eyessuns, her cheeks roses, her lips coral, her teeth pearls, her neckbaster, her bosom marble, her hands ivory, her fairness snow, andwhat modesty conceals from sight such, i think and imagine, asrational reflection can only extol, notpare." "we should like to know her lineage, race, and ancestry," saidvivaldo. to which don quixote replied, "Éä is not of the ancient romancurtii, caii, or scipios, nor of the modern colonnas or orsini, nor ofthe moncadas or requesenes of catalonia, nor yet of the rebes orvinovas of valencia; pfoxes, nuzas, rocabertis, cores, lunas,gones, urreas, foces, or gurreas of aragon; cerdas, manriques,mendozas, or guzmans of castile; alencastros, pas, or meneses ofportugal; but Éä is of those of el toboso of man²å, a lineagethat though modern, may furnish a source of gentle blood for themost illustrious families of the ages that are toe, and this letnone dispute with me save on the condition that zerbino ced atthe foot of the trophy of ondos arms, saying, these let none move who dareth not his might with rnd prove." "although mine is of the cachopins ofredo," said the traveller,"i will not venture topare it with that of el toboso of man²å,though, to tell the truth, no such surname has until now everreached my ears." "what!" said don quixote, "has that never reached them?" the rest of the party went along listening with great attention tothe conversation of the pair, and even the very goatherds andÉäpherds perceived how exceedingly out of his wits our don quixotewas. sancho panza alone thought that what his master said was thetruth, knowing who he was and having known him from his birth; and allthat he felt any difficulty in believing was that about the fairdulcinea del toboso, because neither any such name nor any suchprincess had evere to his knowledge though he lived so close to eltoboso. they were going along conversing in this way, when they sawdescending a gap between two high mountains some twenty Éäpherds, alld in Éäepskins of ck wool, and crowned with gands which,as afterwards appeared, were, some of them of yew, some of cypress.six of the number were carrying a bier covered with a great variety offlowers and branches, on seeing which one of the goatherds said,"those whoe there are the bearers of chrysostoms body, and thefoot of that mountain is the ce where he ordered them to bury him."they therefore made haste to reach the spot, and did so by the timethose who came hadid the bier upon the ground, and four of themwith sharp pickaxes were digging a grave by the side of a hard rock.they greeted each other courteously, and then don quixote and thosewho apanied him turned to examine the bier, and on it, coveredwith flowers, they saw a dead body in the dress of a Éäpherd, toall appearance of one thirty years of age, and showing even in deaththat in life he had been ofely features and gant bearing.around him on the bier itself wereid some books, and several papersopen and folded; and those who were looking on as well as those whowere opening the grave and all the others who were there preserved astrange silence, until one of those who had borne the body said toanother, "observe carefully, ambrosia if this is the cechrysostom spoke of, since you are anxious that what he directed inhis will should be so strictlyplied with." "this is the ce," answered ambrosia "for in it many a time did mypoor friend tell me the story of his hard fortune. here it was, hetold me, that he saw for the first time that mortal enemy of the humanrace, and here, too, for the first time he dered to her hispassion, as honourable as it was devoted, and here it was that atstmarc ended by scorning and rejecting him so as to bring the tragedyof his wretched life to a close; here, in memory of misfortunes sogreat, he desired to beid in the bowels of eternal oblivion."then turning to don quixote and the travellers he went on to say,"that body, sirs, on which you are looking withpassionate eyes,was the abode of a soul on which heaven bestowed a vast share of itsriches. that is the body of chrysostom, who was unrivalled in wit,unequalled in courtesy, unapproached in gentle bearing, a phoenix infriendship, generous without limit, grave without arrogance, gaywithout vulgarity, and, in short, first in all that constitutesgoodness and second to none in all that makes up misfortune. heloved deeply, he was hated; he adored, he was scorned; he wooed a wildbeast, he pleaded with marble, he pursued the wind, he cried to thewilderness, he served ingratitude, and for reward was made the prey ofdeath in the mid-course of life, cut short by a Éäpherdess whom hesought to immortalise in the memory of man, as these papers whichyou see could fully prove, had he notmanded me to consign themto the fire after having consigned his body to the earth." "you would deal with them more harshly and cruelly than theirowner himself," said vivaldo, "for it is neither right nor proper todo the will of one who enjoins what is wholly unreasonable; it wouldnot have been reasonable in augustus caesar had he permitted thedirections left by the divine mantuan in his will to be carried intoeffect. so that, senor ambrosia while you consign your friends bodyto the earth, you should not consign his writings to oblivion, forif he gave the order in bitterness of heart, it is not right thatyou should irrationally obey it. on the contrary, by granting lifeto those papers, let the cruelty of marc live for ever, to serve asa warning in ages toe to all men to shun and avoid falling intolike danger; or i and all of us who havee here know already thestory of this your love-stricken and heart-broken friend, and we know,too, your friendship, and the cause of his death, and the directionÉä gave at the close of his life; from which sad story may be gatheredhow great was the cruelty of marc, the love of chrysostom, andthe loyalty of your friendship, together with the end awaiting thosewho pursue rashly the path that insane passion opens to their eyesst night we learned the death of chrysostom and that he was to beburied here, and out of curiosity and pity we left our direct road andresolved toe and see with our eyes that which when heard of had somoved ourpassion, and in consideration of thatpassion andour desire to prove it if we might by condolence, we beg of you,excellent ambrosia, or at least i on my own ount entreat you,that instead of burning those papers you allow me to carry away someof them." and without waiting for the Éäpherds answer, he stretched outhis hand and took up some of those that were nearest to him; seeingwhich ambrosio said, "out of courtesy, senor, i will grant yourrequest as to those you have taken, but it is idle to expect me toabstain from burning the remainder." vivaldo, who was eager to see what the papers contained, openedone of them at once, and saw that its title was "y of despair." ambrosio hearing it said, "that is thest paper the unhappy manwrote; and that you may see, senor, to what an end his misfortunesbrought him, read it so that you may be heard, for you will havetime enough for that while we are waiting for the grave to be dug."
µÚ18Ò³ "i will do so very willingly," said vivaldo; and as all thebystanders were equally eager they gathered round him, and he, readingin a loud voice, found that it ran as follows. ²åpter xiv wherein are inserted the despairing verses of the dead Éäpherd,together with other incidents not looked for they of chrysostom since thou dost in thy cruelty desire the ruthless rigour of thy tyranny from tongue to tongue, fromnd tond proimed, the very hell will i constrain to lend this stricken breast of mine deep notes of woe to serve my need of fitting utterance. and as i strive to body forth the tale of all i suffer, all that thou hast done, forth shall the dread voice roll, and bear along shreds from my vitals torn for greater pain. then listen, not to dulcet harmony, but to a discord wrung by mad despair out of this bosoms depths of bitterness, to ease my heart and nt a sting in thine. the lions roar, the fierce wolfs savage howl, the horrid hissing of the scaly snake, the awesome cries of monsters yet unnamed, the crows ill-boding croak, the hollow moan of wild winds wrestling with the restless sea, the wrathful bellow of the vanquiÉäd bull, the intive sobbing of the widowed dove, the envied owls sad note, the wail of woe that rises from the dreary choir of hell, commingled in one sound, confusing sense, let all thesee to aid my soulsint, for pain like mine demands new modes of song. no echoes of that discord shall be heard where father tagus rolls, or on the banks of olive-bordered betis; to the rocks or in deep caverns shall my int be told, and by a lifeless tongue in living words; or in dark valleys or on lonely shores, where neither foot of man nor sunbeam falls; or in among the poison-breathing swarms of monsters nouriÉäd by the sluggish nile. for, though it be to solitudes remote the hoarse vague echoes of my sorrows sound thy matchless cruelty, my dismal fate shall carry them to all the spacious world. disdain hath power to kill, and patience dies in by suspicion, be it false or true; and deadly is the force of jealousy; long absence makes of life a dreary void; no hope of happiness can give repose to him that ever fears to be forgot; and death, inevitable, waits in hall. but i, by some strange miracle, live on a prey to absence, jealousy, disdain; racked by suspicion as by certainty; forgotten, left to feed my me alone. and while i suffer thus, therees no ray of hope to dden me athwart the gloom; nor do i look for it in my despair; but rather clinging to a cureless woe, all hope do i abjure for evermore. can there be hope where fear is? were it well, when far more certain are the grounds of fear? ought i to shut mine eyes to jealousy, if through a thousand heart-wounds it appears? who would not give free ess to distrust, seeing disdain unveiled, and- bitter ²ånge!- all his suspicions turned to certainties, and the fair truth transformed into a lie? oh, thou fierce tyrant of the realms of love, oh, jealousy! put ²åins upon these hands, and bind me with thy strongest cord, disdain. but, woe is me! triumphant over all, my sufferings drown the memory of you. and now i die, and since there is no hope of happiness for me in life or death, still to my fantasy ill fondly cling. ill say that he is wise who loveth well, and that the soul most free is that most bound in thraldom to the ancient tyrant love. ill say that Éä who is mine enemy in that fair body hath as fair a mind, and that her coldness is but my desert, and that by virtue of the pain be sends love rules his kingdom with a gentle sway. thus, self-deluding, and in bondage sore, and wearing out the wretched shred of life to which i am reduced by her disdain, ill give this soul and body to the winds, all hopeless of a crown of bliss in store. thou whose injustice hath supplied the cause that makes me quit the weary life i loathe, as by this wounded bosom thou canst see how willingly thy victim i be, let not my death, if haply worth a tear, cloud the clear heaven that dwells in thy bright eyes; i would not have thee expiate in aught the crime of having made my heart thy prey; but rather let thyughter gaily ring and prove my death to be thy festival. fool that i am to bid thee! well i know thy glory gains by my untimely end. and now it is the time; from hells abyss come thirsting tantalus,e sisyphus heaving the cruel stone,e tityus with vulture, and with wheel ixione, ande the sisters of the ceaseless toil; and all into this breast transfer their pains, and £¨if such tribute to despair be due£© ²ånt in their deepest tones a doleful dirge over a corse unworthy of a shroud. let the three-headed guardian of the gate, and all the monstrous progeny of hell, the doleful concert join: a lover dead methinks can have no fitter obsequies. lay of despair, grieve not when thou art gone forth from this sorrowing heart: my misery brings fortune to the cause that gave thee birth; then banish sadness even in the tomb. the "y of chrysostom" met with the approbation of the listeners,though the reader said it did not seem to him to agree with what hehad heard of marcs reserve and propriety, for chrysostoined in it of jealousy, suspicion, and absence, all to theprejudice of the good name and fame of marc; to which ambrosioreplied as one who knew well his friends most secret thoughts,"senor, to remove that doubt i should tell you that when the unhappyman wrote thisy he was away from marc, from whom be hadvoluntarily separated himself, to try if absence would act with him asit is wont; and as everything distresses and every fear haunts thebaniÉäd lover, so imaginary jealousies and suspicions, dreaded asif they were true, tormented chrysostom; and thus the truth of whatreport deres of the virtue of marc remains unshaken, and withher envy itself should not and cannot find any fault save that ofbeing cruel, somewhat haughty, and very scornful." "that is true," said vivaldo; and as he was about to read anotherpaper of those he had preserved from the fire, he was stopped by amarvellous vision £¨for such it seemed£© that unexpectedly presenteditself to their eyes; for on the summit of the rock where they weredigging the grave there appeared the Éäpherdess marc, so beautifulthat her beauty exceeded its reputation. those who had never till thenbeheld her gazed upon her in wonder and silence, and those who wereustomed to see her were not less amazed than those who had neverseen her before. but the instant ambrosio saw her he addressed her,with manifest indignation: "art thoue, by ²ånce, cruel basilisk of these mountains, to seeif in thy presence blood will flow from the wounds of this wretchedbeing thy cruelty has robbed of life; or is it to exult over the cruelwork of thy humours that thou arte; or like another pitilessnero to look down from that height upon the ruin of his rome inembers; or in thy arrogance to trample on this ill-fated corpse, asthe ungrateful daughter trampled on her father tarquins? tell usquickly for what thou arte, or what it is thou wouldst have,for, as i know the thoughts of chrysostom never failed to obey thee inlife, i will make all these who call themselves his friends obey thee,though he be dead." "ie not, ambrosia for any of the purposes thou hast named,"replied marc, "but to defend myself and to prove how unreasonableare all those who me me for their sorrow and for chrysostomsdeath; and therefore i ask all of you that are here to give me yourattention, for will not take much time or many words to bring thetruth home to persons of sense. heaven has made me, so you say,beautiful, and so much so that in spite of yourselves my beautyleads you to love me; and for the love you show me you say, and evenurge, that i am bound to love you. by that natural understanding whichgod has given me i know that everything beautiful attracts love, but icannot see how, by reason of being loved, that which is loved forits beauty is bound to love that which loves it; besides, it mayhappen that the lover of that which is beautiful may be ugly, andugliness being detestable, it is very absurd to say, "i love theebecause thou art beautiful, thou must love me though i be ugly." butsupposing the beauty equal on both sides, it does not follow thatthe inclinations must be therefore alike, for it is not every beautythat excites love, some but pleasing the eye without winning theaffection; and if every sort of beauty excited love and won the heart,the will would wander vaguely to and fro unable to make choice of any;for as there is an infinity of beautiful objects there must be aninfinity of inclinations, and true love, i have heard it said, isindivisible, and must be voluntary and notpelled. if this be so,as i believe it to be, why do you desire me to bend my will byforce, for no other reason but that you say you love me? nay- tell me-had heaven made me ugly, as it has made me beautiful, could i withjusticein of you for not loving me? moreover, you must rememberthat the beauty i possess was no choice of mine, for, be it what itmay, heaven of its bounty gave it me without my asking or choosing it;and as the viper, though it kills with it, does not deserve to bemed for the poison it carries, as it is a gift of nature, neitherdo i deserve reproach for being beautiful; for beauty in a modestwoman is like fire at a distance or a sharp sword; the one does notburn, the other does not cut, those who do note too near. honourand virtue are the ornaments of the mind, without which the body,though it be so, has no right to pass for beautiful; but if modesty isone of the virtues that specially lend a grace and ²årm to mind andbody, why should Éä who is loved for her beauty part with it togratify one who for his pleasure alone strives with all his mightand energy to rob her of it? i was born free, and that i might live infreedom i chose the solitude of the fields; in the trees of themountains i find society, the clear waters of the brooks are mymirrors, and to the trees and waters i make known my thoughts and²årms. i am a fire afar off, a swordid aside. those whom i haveinspired with love by letting them see me, i have by words undeceived,and if their longings live on hope- and i have given none tochrysostom or to any other- it cannot justly be said that the death ofany is my doing, for it was rather his own obstinacy than my crueltythat killed him; and if it be made a ²årge against me that his wiÉäswere honourable, and that therefore i was bound to yield to them, ianswer that when on this very spot where now his grave is made hedered to me his purity of purpose, i told him that mine was to livein perpetual solitude, and that the earth alone should enjoy thefruits of my retirement and the spoils of my beauty; and if, afterthis open avowal, he chose to persist against hope and steer againstthe wind, what wonder is it that he should sink in the depths of hisinfatuation? if i had encouraged him, i should be false; if i hadgratified him, i should have acted against my own better resolutionand purpose. he was persistent in spite of warning, he despairedwithout being hated. bethink you now if it be reasonable that hissuffering should beid to my ²årge. let him who has been deceivein, let him give way to despair whose encouraged hopes haveproved vain, let him tter himself whom i shall entice, let himboast whom i shall receive; but let not him call me cruel orhomicide to whom i make no promise, upon whom i practise no deception,whom i neither entice nor receive. it has not been so far the willof heaven that i should love by fate, and to expect me to love bychoice is idle. let this general deration serve for each of mysuitors on his own ount, and let it be understood from this timeforth that if anyone dies for me it is not of jealousy or misery hedies, for Éä who loves no one can give no cause for jealousy toany, and candour is not to be confounded with scorn. let him who callsme wild beast and basilisk, leave me alone as something noxious andevil; let him who calls me ungrateful, withhold his service; who callsme wayward, seek not my acquaintance; who calls me cruel, pursue menot; for this wild beast, this basilisk, this ungrateful, cruel,wayward being has no kind of desire to seek, serve, know, or followthem. if chrysostoms impatience and violent passion killed him, whyshould my modest behaviour and circumspection be med? if i preservemy purity in the society of the trees, why should he who would have mepreserve it among men, seek to rob me of it? i have, as you know,wealth of my own, and i covet not that of others; my taste is forfreedom, and i have no relish for constraint; i neither love norhate anyone; i do not deceive this one or court that, or trifle withone or y with another. the modest converse of the Éäpherd girls ofthese hamlets and the care of my goats are my recreations; mydesires are bounded by these mountains, and if they ever wanderhence it is to contemte the beauty of the heavens, steps by whichthe soul travels to its primeval abode."
µÚ19Ò³ with these words, and not waiting to hear a reply, Éä turned andpassed into the thickest part of a wood that was hard by, leavingall who were there lost in admiration as much of her good sense asof her beauty. some- those wounded by the irresistible shaftsunchedby her bright eyes- made as though they would follow her, heedlessof the frank deration they had heard; seeing which, and deemingthis a fitting asion for the exercise of his chivalry in aid ofdistressed damsels, don quixote,ying his hand on the hilt of hissword, eximed in a loud and distinct voice: "let no one, whatever his rank or condition, dare to follow thebeautiful marc, under pain of incurring my fierce indignation.Éä has shown by clear and satisfactory arguments that little or nofault is to be found with her for the death of chrysostom, and alsohow far Éä is from yielding to the wiÉäs of any of her lovers, forwhich reason, instead of being followed and persecuted, Éä shouldin justice be honoured and esteemed by all the good people of theworld, for Éä shows that Éä is the only woman in it that holds tosuch a virtuous resolution." whether it was because of the threats of don quixote, or becauseambrosio told them to fulfil their duty to their good friend, noneof the Éäpherds moved or stirred from the spot until, having finiÉädthe grave and burned chrysostoms papers, theyid his body in it,not without many tears from those who stood by. they closed thegrave with a heavy stone until a b was ready which ambrosio said hemeant to have prepared, with an epitaph which was to be to thiseffect: beneath the stone before your eyes the body of a lover lies; in life he was a Éäpherd swain, in death a victim to disdain. ungrateful, cruel, coy, and fair, was Éä that drove him to despair, and love hath made her his ally for spreading wide his tyranny.they then strewed upon the grave a profusion of flowers andbranches, and all expressing their condolence with his friendambrosio, took their vivaldo and hispanion did the same; and donquixote bade farewell to his hosts and to the travellers, whopressed him toe with them to seville, as being such a convenientce for finding adventures, for they presented themselves in everystreet and round every corner oftener than anywhere else. donquixote thanked them for their advice and for the disposition theyshowed to do him a favour, and said that for the present he would not,and must not go to seville until he had cleared all these mountains ofhighwaymen and robbers, of whom report said they were full. seeing hisgood intention, the travellers were unwilling to press him further,and once more bidding him farewell, they left him and pursued theirjourney, in the course of which they did not fail to discuss the storyof marc and chrysostom as well as the madness of don quixote. he,on his part, resolved to go in quest of the Éäpherdess marc, andmake offer to her of all the service he could render her; but thingsdid not fall out with him as he expected, ording to what is rtedin the course of this veracious history, of which the second part endÉäre. ²åpter xv in which is rted the unfortunate adventure that don quixotefell in with when he fell out with certain heartless yanguesans the sage cide hamete benengeli rtes that as soon as don quixotetook leave of his hosts and all who had been present at the burialof chrysostom, he and his squire passed into the same wood whichthey had seen the Éäpherdess marc enter, and after having wanderedfor more than two hours in all directions in search of her withoutfinding her, they came to a halt in a de covered with tender grass,beside which ran a pleasant cool stream that invited andpelledthem to pass there the hours of the noontide heat, which by thistime was beginning toe on oppressively. don quixote and sanchodismounted, and turning rocinante and the ass loose to feed on thegrass that was there in abundance, they ransacked the alforjas, andwithout any ceremony very peacefully and sociably master and manmade their repast on what they found in them. sancho had not thoughtit worth while to hobble rocinante, feeling sure, from what he knew ofhis staidness and freedom from incontinence, that all the mares in thecordova pastures would not lead him into an impropriety. ²ånce,however, and the devil, who is not always asleep, so ordained itthat feeding in this valley there was a drove of galician poniesbelonging to certain yanguesan carriers, whose way it is to take theirmidday rest with their teams in ces and spots where grass and waterabound; and that where don quixote ²ånced to be suited theyanguesans purpose very well. it so happened, then, that rocinantetook a fancy to disport himself with theirdyships the ponies, andabandoning his usual gait and demeanour as he scented them, he,without asking leave of his master, got up a briskish little trotand hastened to make known his wiÉäs to them; they, however, itseemed, preferred their pasture to him, and received him with theirheels and teeth to such effect that they soon broke his girths andleft him naked without a saddle to cover him; but what must havebeen worse to him was that the carriers, seeing the violence he wasoffering to their mares, came running up armed with stakes, and sobboured him that they brought him sorely battered to the ground. by this time don quixote and sancho, who had witnessed thedrubbing of rocinante, came up panting, and said don quixote tosancho: "so far as i can see, friend sancho, these are not knights butbase folk of low birth: i mention it because thou canstwfully aidme in taking due vengeance for the insult offered to rocinantebefore our eyes." "what the devil vengeance can we take," answered sancho, "if theyare more than twenty, and we no more than two, or, indeed, perhaps notmore than one and a half?" "i count for a hundred," replied don quixote, and without more wordÉä drew his sword and attacked the yanguesans and excited and impelledby the example of his master, sancho did the same; and to beginwith, don quixote delivered a sh at one of them thatid openthe leather jerkin he wore, together with a great portion of hisshoulder. the yanguesans, seeing themselves assaulted by only twomen while they were so many, betook themselves to their stakes, anddriving the two into the middle they began toy on with great zend energy; in fact, at the second blow they brought sancho to theground, and don quixote fared the same way, all his skill and highmettle availing him nothing, and fate willed it that he should fall atthe feet of rocinante, who had not yet risen; whereby it may be seenhow furiously stakes can pound in angry boorish hands. then, seeingthe mischief they had done, the yanguesans with all the haste theycould loaded their team and pursued their journey, leaving the twoadventurers a sorry sight and in sorrier mood. sancho was the first toe to, and finding himself close to hismaster he called to him in a weak and doleful voice, "senor donquixote, ah, senor don quixote!" "what wouldst thou, brother sancho?" answered don quixote in thesame feeble suffering tone as sancho. "i would like, if it were possible," answered sancho panza, "yourworship to give me a couple of sups of that potion of the fierys, if it be that you have any to hand there; perhaps it willserve for broken bones as well as for wounds." "if i only had it here, wretch that i am, what more should we want?"said don quixote; "but i swear to thee, sancho panza, on the faithof a knight-errant, ere two days are over, unless fortune ordersotherwise, i mean to have it in my possession, or my hand will havelost its cunning." "but in how many does your worship think we shall have the use ofour feet?" answered sancho panza. "for myself i must say i cannot guess how many," said the batteredknight don quixote; "but i take all the me upon myself, for i hadno business to put hand to sword against men who where not dubbedknights like myself, and so i believe that in punishment for havingtransgressed thews of chivalry the god of battles has permittedthis ²åstisement to be administered to me; for which reason,brother sancho, it is well thou shouldst receive a hint on thematter which i am now about to mention to thee, for it is of muchimportance to the welfare of both of us. it is at when thou shaltsee rabble of this sort offering us insult thou art not to wait till idraw sword against them, for i shall not do so at all; but do thoudraw sword and ²åstise them to thy hearts content, and if anyknightse to their aid and defence i will take care to defendthee and assail them with all my might; and thou hast already seenby a thousand signs and proofs what the might of this strong arm ofmine is equal to"- so uplifted had the poor gentleman be throughthe victory over the stout biscayan. but sancho did not so fully approve of his masters admonition as tolet it pass without saying in reply, "senor, i am a man of peace, meekand quiet, and i can put up with any affront because i have a wife andchildren to support and bring up; so let it be likewise a hint to yourworship, as it cannot be a mandate, that on no ount will i drawsword either against clown or against knight, and that here before godi forgive the insults that have been offered me, whether they havebeen, are, or shall be offered me by high or low, rich or poor,noble ormoner, not excepting any rank or condition whatsoever."
µÚ20Ò³ to all which his master said in reply, "i wish i had breath enoughto speak somewhat easily, and that the pain i feel on this sidewould abate so as to let me exin to thee, panza, the mistake thoumakest.e now, sinner, suppose the wind of fortune, hitherto soadverse, should turn in our favour, filling the sails of our desiresso that safely and without impediment we put into port in some oneof those inds i have promised thee, how would it be with thee if onwinning it i made thee lord of it? why, thou wilt make it well-nighimpossible through not being a knight nor having any desire to be one,nor possessing the courage nor the will to avenge insults or defendthy lordship; for thou must know that in newly conquered kingdomsand provinces the minds of the inhabitants are never so quiet nor sowell disposed to the new lord that there is no fear of their makingsome move to ²ånge matters once more, and try, as they say, what²ånce may do for them; so it is essential that the new possessorshould have good sense to enable him to govern, and valour to attackand defend himself, whatever may befall him." "in what has now befallen us," answered sancho, "id have beenwell pleased to have that good sense and that valour your worshipspeaks of, but i swear on the faith of a poor man i am more fit forsters than for arguments. see if your worship can get up, and letus help rocinante, though he does not deserve it, for he was themain cause of all this thrashing. i never thought it of rocinante, fori took him to be a virtuous person and as quiet as myself. afterall, they say right that it takes a long time toe to knowpeople, and that there is nothing sure in this life. who would havesaid that, after such mighty Éäs as your worship gave that unluckyknight-errant, there wasing, travelling post and at the very heelsof them, such a great storm of sticks as has fallen upon ourshoulders?" "and yet thine, sancho," replied don quixote, "ought to be used tosuch squalls; but mine, reared in soft cloth and fine linen, it isin they must feel more keenly the pain of this mishap, and if itwere not that i imagine- why do i say imagine?- know of a certaintythat all these annoyances are very necessary apaniments of thecalling of arms, i wouldy me down here to die of pure vexation." to this the squire replied, "senor, as these mishaps are what onereaps of chivalry, tell me if they happen very often, or if theyhave their own fixed times foring to pass; because it seems tome that after two harvests we shall be no good for the third, unlessgod in his infinite mercy helps us." "know, friend sancho," answered don quixote, "that the life ofknights-errant is subject to a thousand dangers and reverses, andneither more nor less is it within immediate possibility forknights-errant to be kings and emperors, as experience has shownin the case of many different knights with whose histories i amthoroughly acquainted; and i could tell thee now, if the pain wouldlet me, of some who simply by might of arm have risen to the highstations i have mentioned; and those same, both before and after,experienced divers misfortunes and miseries; for the valiant amadis ofgaul found himself in the power of his mortal enemy arcus themagician, who, it is positively asserted, holding him captive, gavehim more than two hundredÉäs with the reins of his horse whiletied to one of the pirs of a court; and moreover there is a certainrecondite author of no small authority who says that the knight ofphoebus, being caught in a certain pitfall, which opened under hisfeet in a certain castle, on falling found himself bound hand and footin a deep pit underground, where they administered to him one of thosethings they call clysters, of sand and snow-water, that well-nighfiniÉäd him; and if he had not been soured in that soreextremity by a sage, a great friend of his, it would have gone veryhard with the poor knight; so i may well suffer inpany with suchworthy folk, for greater were the indignities which they had to sufferthan those which we suffer. for i would have thee know, sancho, thatwounds caused by any instruments which happen by ²ånce to be inhand inflict no indignity, and this isid down in thew of theduel in express words: if, for instance, the cobbler strikes anotherwith thest which he has in his hand, though it be in fact a pieceof wood, it cannot be said for that reason that he whom he struck withit has been cudgelled. i say this lest thou shouldst imagine thatbecause we have been drubbed in this affray we have therefore sufferedany indignity; for the arms those men carried, with which they poundedus, were nothing more than their stakes, and not one of them, so faras i remember, carried rapier, sword, or dagger." "they gave me no time to see that much," answered sancho, "forhardly had iid hand on my tizona when they signed the cross on myshoulders with their sticks in such style that they took the sight outof my eyes and the strength out of my feet, stretching me where inow lie, and where thinking of whether all those stake-strokes were anindignity or not gives me no uneasiness, which the pain of the blowsdoes, for they will remain as deeply impressed on my memory as on myshoulders." "for all that let me tell thee, brother panza," said don quixote,"that there is no recollection which time does not put an end to,and no pain which death does not remove." "and what greater misfortune can there be," replied panza, "than theone that waits for time to put an end to it and death to remove it? ifour mishap were one of those that are cured with a couple of sters,it would not be so bad; but i am beginning to think that all thesters in a hospital almost wont be enough to put us right." "no more of that: pluck strength out of weakness, sancho, as imean to do," returned don quixote, "and let us see how rocinante is,for it seems to me that not the least share of this mishap hasfallen to the lot of the poor beast." "there is nothing wonderful in that," replied sancho, "since he is aknight-errant too; what i wonder at is that my beast should have off scot-free where wee out scotched." "fortune always leaves a door open in adversity in order to bringrelief to it," said don quixote; "i say so because this little beastmay now supply the want of rocinante, carrying me hence to some castlewhere i may be cured of my wounds. and moreover i shall not hold itany dishonour to be so mounted, for i remember having read how thegood old silenus, the tutor and instructor of the gay god ofughter,when he entered the city of the hundred gates, went very contentedlymounted on a handsome ass." "it may be true that he went mounted as your worship says," answeredsancho, "but there is a great difference between going mounted andgoing slung like a sack of manure." to which don quixote replied, "wounds received in battle conferhonour instead of taking it away; and so, friend panza, say no more,but, as i told thee before, get up as well as thou canst and put me ontop of thy beast in whatever fashion pleases thee best, and let usgo hence ere nighte on and surprise us in these wilds." "and yet i have heard your worship say," observed panza, "that it isvery meet for knights-errant to sleep in wastes and deserts, andthat they esteem it very good fortune." "that is," said don quixote, "when they cannot help it, or when theyare in love; and so true is this that there have been knights who haveremained two years on rocks, in sunshine and shade and all theinclemencies of heaven, without theirdies knowing anything of it;and one of these was amadis, when, under the name of beltenebros, hetook up his abode on the pena pobre for -i know not if it was eightyears or eight months, for i am not very sure of the reckoning; at anyrate he stayed there doing penance for i know not what pique theprincess oriana had against him; but no more of this now, sancho,and make haste before a mishap like rocinantes befalls the ass." "the very devil would be in it in that case," said sancho; andletting off thirty "ohs," and sixty sighs, and a hundred and twentymaledictions and execrations on whomsoever it was that had brought himthere, he raised himself, stopping half-way bent like a turkish bowwithout power to bring himself upright, but with all his pains hesaddled his ass, who too had gone astray somewhat, yielding to theexcessive licence of the day; he next raised up rocinante, and asfor him, had he possessed a tongue toin with, most assuredlyneither sancho nor his master would have been behind him. to be brief,sancho fixed don quixote on the ass and secured rocinante with aleading rein, and taking the ass by the halter, he proceeded more orless in the direction in which it seemed to him the high road mightbe; and, as ²ånce was conducting their affairs for them from goodto better, he had not gone a short league when the road came in sight,and on it he perceived an inn, which to his annoyance and to thedelight of don quixote must needs be a castle. sancho insisted that itwas an inn, and his master that it was not one, but a castle, andthe disputested so long that before the point was settled theyhad time to reach it, and into it sancho entered with all his teamwithout any further controversy. ²åpter xvi of what happened to the ingenious gentleman in the inn which he tookto be a castle the innkeeper, seeing don quixote slung across the ass, asked sanchowhat was amiss with him. sancho answered that it was nothing, onlythat he had fallen down from a rock and had his ribs a little bruised.the innkeeper had a wife whose disposition was not such as those ofher callingmonly have, for Éä was by nature kind-hearted and feltfor the sufferings of her neighbours, so Éä at once set about tendingdon quixote, and made her young daughter, a veryely girl, help herin taking care of her guest. there was besides in the inn, as servant,an asturianss with a broad face, t poll, and snub nose, blind ofone eye and not very sound in the other. the elegance of her shape, tobe sure, made up for all her defects; Éä did not measure sevenpalms from head to foot, and her shoulders, which overweighted hersomewhat, made her contemte the ground more than Éä liked. thisgracefulss, then, helped the young girl, and the two made up a verybad bed for don quixote in a garret that showed evident signs ofhaving formerly served for many years as a straw-loft, in whichthere was also quartered a carrier whose bed was ced a littlebeyond our don quixotes, and, though only made of the pack-saddlesand cloths of his mules, had much the advantage of it, as donquixotes consisted simply of four rough boards on two not very eventrestles, a mattress, that for thinness might have passed for a quilt,full of pellets which, were they not seen through the rents to bewool, would to the touch have seemed pebbles in hardness, two Éäetsmade of buckler leather, and a coverlet the threads of which anyhat chose might have counted without missing one in the reckoning.
µÚ21Ò³ on this ursed bed don quixote stretched himself, and thehostess and her daughter soon covered him with sters from top totoe, while maritornes- for that was the name of the asturian- held thelight for them, and while stering him, the hostess, observing howfull of wheals don quixote was in some ces, remarked that thishad more the look of blows than of a fall. it was not blows, sancho said, but that the rock had many points andprojections, and that each of them had left its mark. "pray,senora," he added, "manage to save some tow, as there will be nowant of some one to use it, for my loins too are rather sore." "then you must have fallen too," said the hostess. "i did not fall," said sancho panza, "but from the shock i got atseeing my master fall, my body aches so that i feel as if i had hada thousand thwacks." "that may well be," said the young girl, "for it has many a timehappened to me to dream that i was falling down from a tower and neveing to the ground, and when i awoke from the dream to find myselfas weak and shaken as if i had really fallen." "there is the point, senora," replied sancho panza, "that iwithout dreaming at all, but being more awake than i am now, findmyself with scarcely less wheals than my master, don quixote." "how is the gentleman called?" asked maritornes the asturian. "don quixote of man²å," answered sancho panza, "and he is aknight-adventurer, and one of the best and stoutest that have beenseen in the world this long time past." "what is a knight-adventurer?" said thess. "are you so new in the world as not to know?" answered sancho panza."well, then, you must know, sister, that a knight-adventurer is athing that in two words is seen drubbed and emperor, that is to-daythe most miserable and needy being in the world, and to-morrow willhave two or three crowns of kingdoms to give his squire." "then how is it," said the hostess, "that belonging to so good amaster as this, you have not, to judge by appearances, even so much asa county?" "it is too soon yet," answered sancho, "for we have only been amonth going in quest of adventures, and so far we have met withnothing that can be called one, for it will happen that when one thingis looked for another thing is found; however, if my master donquixote gets well of this wound, or fall, and i am left none the worseof it, i would not ²ånge my hopes for the best title in spain." to all this conversation don quixote was listening very attentively,and sitting up in bed as well as he could, and taking the hostess bythe hand he said to her, "believe me, fairdy, you may call yourselffortunate in having in this castle of yours Éältered my person, whichis such that if i do not myself praise it, it is because of what imonly said, that self-praise debaseth; but my squire will informyou who i am. i only tell you that i shall preserve for ever inscribedon my memory the service you have rendered me in order to tender youmy gratitude while life shallst me; and would to heaven love heldme not so enthralled and subject to itsws and to the eyes of thatfair ingrate whom i name between my teeth, but that those of thislovely damsel might be the masters of my liberty." the hostess, her daughter, and the worthy maritornes listened inbewilderment to the words of the knight-errant; for they understoodabout as much of them as if he had been talking greek, though theycould perceive they were all meant for expressions of good-will andndishments; and not being ustomed to this kind ofnguage, theystared at him and wondered to themselves, for he seemed to them aman of a different sort from those they were used to, and thanking himin pothouse phrase for his civility they left him, while theasturian gave her attention to sancho, who needed it no less thanhis master. the carrier had made an arrangement with her for recreation thatnight, and Éä had given him her word that when the guests werequiet and the family asleep Éä woulde in search of him and meethis wiÉäs unreservedly. and it is said of this goodss that Éänever made promises of the kind without fulfilling them, even thoughÉä made them in a forest and without any witness present, for Éäplumed herself greatly on being ady and held it no disgrace to bein such an employment as servant in an inn, because, Éä said,misfortunes and ill-luck had brought her to that position. the hard,narrow, wretched, rickety bed of don quixote stood first in the middleof this star-lit stable, and close beside it sancho made his, whichmerely consisted of a rush mat and a nket that looked as if itwas of threadbare canvas rather than of wool. next to these two bedswas that of the carrier, made up, as has been said, of thepack-saddles and all the trappings of the two best mules he had,though there were twelve of them, sleek, plump, and in primecondition, for he was one of the rich carriers of arevalo, ordingto the author of this history, who particrly mentions thiscarrier because he knew him very well, and they even say was in somedegree a rtion of his; besides which cide hamete benengeli was ahistorian of great research and uracy in all things, as is veryevident since he would not pass over in silence those that have beenalready mentioned, however trifling and insignificant they might be,an example that might be followed by those grave historians who rtetransactions so curtly and briefly that we hardly get a taste of them,all the substance of the work being left in the inkstand fromcarelessness, perverseness, or ignorance. a thousand blessings onthe author of "tante de ricamonte" and that of the other book inwhich the deeds of the conde tomis are recounted; with whatminuteness they describe everything! to proceed, then: after having paid a visit to his team and giventhem their second feed, the carrier stretched himself on hispack-saddles andy waiting for his conscientious maritornes.sancho was by this time stered and hadin down, and though hestrove to sleep the pain of his ribs would not let him, while donquixote with the pain of his had his eyes as wide open as a hares.the inn was all in silence, and in the whole of it there was nolight except that given by antern that hung burning in the middleof the gateway. this strange stillness, and the thoughts, alwayspresent to our knights mind, of the incidents described at every turnin the books that were the cause of his misfortune, conjured up to hisimagination as extraordinary a delusion as can well be conceived,which was that he fancied himself to have reached a famous castle£¨for, as has been said, all the inns he lodged in were castles tohis eyes£©£¬ and that the daughter of the innkeeper was daughter ofthe lord of the castle, and that Éä, won by his high-bred bearing,had fallen in love with him, and had promised toe to his bed for awhile that night without the knowledge of her parents; and holding allthis fantasy that he had constructed as solid fact, he began to feeluneasy and to consider the perilous risk which his virtue was about toencounter, and he resolved in his heart tomit no treason to hidy dulcinea del toboso, even though the queen guinevere herselfand the dame quintanona should present themselves before him. while he was taken up with these vagaries, then, the time and thehour- an unlucky one for him- arrived for the asturian toe, who inher smock, with bare feet and her hair gathered into a fustian coif,with noiseless and cautious steps entered the ²åmber where thethree were quartered, in quest of the carrier; but scarcely had Éägained the door when don quixote perceived her, and sitting up inhis bed in spite of his sters and the pain of his ribs, hestretched out his arms to receive his beauteous damsel. theasturian, who went all doubled up and in silence with her hands beforeher feeling for her lover, encountered the arms of don quixote, whograsped her tightly by the wrist, and drawing her towards him, whileÉä dared not utter a word, made her sit down on the bed. he then felther smock, and although it was of sackcloth it appeared to him to beof the finest and softest silk: on her wrists Éä wore some ssbeads, but to him they had the Éäen of precious orient pearls: herhair, which in some measure resembled a horses mane, he rated asthreads of the brightest gold of araby, whose refulgence dimmed thesun himself: her breath, which no doubt smelt of yesterdays stalesd, seemed to him to diffuse a sweet aromatic fragrance from hermouth; and, in short, he drew her portrait in his imagination with thesame features and in the same style as that which he had seen in hisbooks of the other princesses who, smitten by love, came with allthe adornments that are here set down, to see the sorely woundedknight; and so great was the poor gentlemans blindness that neithertouch, nor smell, nor anything else about the goodss that wouldhave made any but a carrier vomit, were enough to undeceive him; onthe contrary, he was persuaded he had the goddess of beauty in hisarms, and holding her firmly in his grasp he went on to say in low,tender voice: "would that found myself, lovely and exalteddy, in a positionto repay such a favour as that which you, by the sight of your greatbeauty, have granted me; but fortune, which is never weary ofpersecuting the good, has chosen to ce me upon this bed, where ilie so bruised and broken that though my inclination would dlply with yours it is impossible; besides, to this impossibilityanother yet greater is to be added, which is the faith that i havepledged to the peerless dulcinea del toboso, soledy of my mostsecret thoughts; and were it not that this stood in the way i shouldnot be so insensible a knight as to miss the happy opportunity whichyour great goodness has offered me."
µÚ22Ò³ maritornes was fretting and sweating at finding herself held so fastby don quixote, and not understanding or heeding the words headdressed to her, Éä strove without speaking to free herself. theworthy carrier, whose unholy thoughts kept him awake, was aware of hisdoxy the moment Éä entered the door, and was listening attentively toall don quixote said; and jealous that the asturian should have brokenher word with him for another, drew nearer to don quixotes bed andstood still to see what woulde of this talk which he could notunderstand; but when he perceived the wench struggling to get free anddon quixote striving to hold her, not relishing the joke he raised hisarm and delivered such a terrible cuff on thenk jaws of the amorousknight that be bathed all his mouth in blood, and not content withthis he mounted on his ribs and with his feet tramped all over them ata pace rather smarter than a trot. the bed which was somewhat crazyand not very firm on its feet, unable to support the additional weightof the carrier, came to the ground, and at the mighty crash of thisthe innkeeper awoke and at once concluded that it must be some brawlof maritornes, because after calling loudly to her he got noanswer. with this suspicion he got up, and lighting amp hastened tothe quarter where he had heard the disturbance. the wench, seeing thather master wasing and knowing that his temper was terrible,frightened and panic-stricken made for the bed of sancho panza, whostill slept, and crouching upon it made a ball of herself. the innkeeper came in eximing, "where art thou, strumpet? ofcourse this is some of thy work." at this sancho awoke, and feelingthis mass almost on top of him fancied he had the nightmare andbegan to distribute fisticuffs all round, of which a certain sharefell upon maritornes, who, irritated by the pain and flingingmodesty aside, paid back so many in return to sancho that Éä woke himup in spite of himself. he then, finding himself so handled, by whomhe knew not, raising himself up as well as he could, grappled withmaritornes, and he and Éä between them began the bitterest anddrollest scrimmage in the world. the carrier, however, perceiving bythe light of the innkeeper candle how it fared with hisdylove,quitting don quixote, ran to bring her the help Éä needed; and theinnkeeper did the same but with a different intention, for his wasto ²åstise thess, as he believed that beyond a doubt Éä alone wasthe cause of all the harmony. and so, as the saying is, cat to rat,rat to rope, rope to stick, the carrier pounded sancho, sancho thss, Éä him, and the innkeeper her, and all worked away so brisklythat they did not give themselves a moments rest; and the best ofit was that the innkeepersmp went out, and as they were left inthe dark they allid on one upon the other in a mass so unmercifullythat there was not a sound spot left where a hand could light. it so happened that there was lodging that night in the inn acaudrillero of what they call the old holy brotherhood of toledo, who,also hearing the extraordinary noise of the conflict, seized his staffand the tin case with his warrants, and made his way in the darkinto the room crying: "hold! in the name of the jurisdiction! hold! inthe name of the holy brotherhood!" the first that he came upon was the pummelled don quixote, whoystretched senseless on his back upon his broken-down bed, and, hishand falling on the beard as he felt about, he continued to cry, "helpfor the jurisdiction!" but perceiving that he whom he hadid hold ofdid not move or stir, he concluded that he was dead and that thosein the room were his murderers, and with this suspicion he raisedhis voice still higher, calling out, "shut the inn gate; see that noone goes out; they have killed a man here!" this cry startled themall, and each dropped the contest at the point at which the voicereached him. the innkeeper retreated to his room, the carrier to hispack-saddles, thess to her crib; the unlucky don quixote and sanchoalone were unable to move from where they were. the cuadrillero onthis let go don quixotes beard, and went out to look for a light tosearch for and apprehend the culprits; but not finding one, as theinnkeeper had purposely extinguiÉäd thentern on retreating tohis room, he waspelled to have recourse to the hearth, where aftermuch time and trouble he lit anothermp. ²åpter xvii in which are contained the innumerable troubles which the bravedon quixote and his good squire sancho panza endured in the inn, whichto his misfortune he took to be a castle by this time don quixote had recovered from his swoon; and in thesame tone of voice in which he had called to his squire the day beforewhen hey stretched "in the vale of the stakes," he began calling tohim now, "sancho, my friend, art thou asleep? sleepest thou, friendsancho?" "how can i sleep, curses on it!" returned sancho discontentedlyand bitterly, "when it is in that all the devils have been at methis night?" "thou mayest well believe that," answered don quixote, "because,either i know little, or this castle is en²ånted, for thou must know-but this that i am now about to tell thee thou must swear to keepsecret until after my death." "i swear it," answered sancho. "i say so," continued don quixote, "because i hate taking awayanyones good name." "i say," replied sancho, "that i swear to hold my tongue about ittill the end of your worships days, and god grant i may be able tolet it out tomorrow." "do i do thee such injuries, sancho," said don quixote, "that thouwouldst see me dead so soon?" "it is not for that," replied sancho, "but because i hate keepingthings long, and i dont want them to grow rotten with me fromover-keeping." "at any rate," said don quixote, "i have more confidence in thyaffection and good nature; and so i would have thee know that thisnight there befell me one of the strangest adventures that i coulddescribe, and to rte it to thee briefly thou must know that alittle while ago the daughter of the lord of this castle came to me,and that Éä is the most elegant and beautiful damsel that could befound in the wide world. what i could tell thee of the ²årms of herperson! of her lively wit! of other secret matters which, topreserve the fealty i owe to mydy dulcinea del toboso, i shall passover unnoticed and in silence! i will only tell thee that, either fatebeing envious of so great a boon ced in my hands by good fortune,or perhaps £¨and this is more probable£© this castle being, as i havealready said, en²ånted, at the time when i was engaged in thesweetest and most amorous discourse with her, there came, without myseeing or knowing whence it came, a hand attached to some arm ofsome huge giant, that nted such a cuff on my jaws that i havethem all bathed in blood, and then pummelled me in such a way that iam in a worse plight than yesterday when the carriers, on ount ofrocinantes misbehaviour, inflicted on us the injury thou knowestof; whence conjecture that there must be some en²ånted moorguarding the treasure of this damsels beauty, and that it is notfor me." "not for me either," said sancho, "for more than four hundredmoors have so thraÉäd me that the drubbing of the stakes was cakesand fancy-bread to it. but tell me, senor, what do you call thisexcellent and rare adventure that has left us as we are left now?though your worship was not so badly off, having in your arms thatiparable beauty you spoke of; but i, what did i have, except theheaviest whacks i think i had in all my life? unlucky me and themother that bore me! for i am not a knight-errant and never expectto be one, and of all the mishaps, the greater part falls to myshare." "then thou hast been thraÉäd too?" said don quixote. "didnt i say so? worse luck to my line!" said sancho. "be not distressed, friend," said don quixote, "for i will nowmake the precious balsam with which we shall cure ourselves in thetwinkling of an eye." by this time the cuadrillero had seeded in lighting themp, andcame in to see the man that he thought had been killed; and assancho caught sight of him at the door, seeing himing in hisshirt, with a cloth on his head, and amp in his hand, and a veryforbidding countenance, he said to his master, "senor, can it bethat this is the en²ånted mooring back to give us morecastigation if there be anything still left in the ink-bottle?" "it cannot be the moor," answered don quixote, "for those underen²åntment do not let themselves be seen by anyone." "if they dont let themselves be seen, they let themselves be felt,"said sancho; "if not, let my shoulders speak to the point." "mine could speak too," said don quixote, "but that is not asufficient reason for believing that what we see is the en²åntedmoor." the officer came up, and finding them engaged in such a peacefulconversation, stood amazed; though don quixote, to be sure, stily on his back unable to move from pure pummelling and sters.the officer turned to him and said, "well, how goes it, good man?" "i would speak more politely if i were you," replied don quixote;"is it the way of this country to address knights-errant in thatstyle, you booby?" the cuadrillero finding himself so disrespectfully treated by such asorry-looking individual, lost his temper, and raising themp fullof oil, smote don quixote such a blow with it on the head that he gavehim a badly broken pate; then, all being in darkness, he went out, andsancho panza said, "that is certainly the en²ånted moor, senor, andhe keeps the treasure for others, and for us only the cuffs anmp-whacks."
µÚ23Ò³ "that is the truth," answered don quixote, "and there is no use introubling oneself about these matters of en²åntment or being angry orvexed at them, for as they are invisible and visionary we shall findno one on whom to avenge ourselves, do what we may; rise, sancho, ifthou canst, and call the alcaide of this fortress, and get him to giveme a little oil, wine, salt, and rosemary to make the salutiferousbalsam, for indeed i believe i have great need of it now, because i amlosing much blood from the wound that phantom gave me." sancho got up with pain enough in his bones, and went after theinnkeeper in the dark, and meeting the officer, who was looking to seewhat had be of his enemy, he said to him, "senor, whoever you are,do us the favour and kindness to give us a little rosemary, oil, salt,and wine, for it is wanted to cure one of the best knights-errant onearth, who lies on yonder bed wounded by the hands of the en²åntedmoor that is in this inn." when the officer heard him talk in this way, he took him for a manout of his senses, and as day was now beginning to break, he openedthe inn gate, and calling the host, he told him what this good manwanted. the host furniÉäd him with what he required, and sanchobrought it to don quixote, who, with his hand to his head, wasbewailing the pain of the blow of themp, which had done him no moreharm than raising a couple of ratherrge lumps, and what hefancied blood was only the sweat that flowed from him in hissufferings during thete storm. to be brief, he took thematerials, of which he made apound, miÐÔ them all and boilingthem a good while until it seemed to him they hade toperfection. he then asked for some vial to pour it into, and asthere was not one in the inn, he decided on putting it into a tinoil-bottle or sk of which the host made him a free gift; and overthe sk he repeated more than eighty paternosters and as many moreave-marias, salves, and credos, apanying each word with a cross byway of benediction, at all which there were present sancho, theinnkeeper, and the cuadrillero; for the carrier was now peacefullyengaged in attending to thefort of his mules. this being apliÉäd, he felt anxious to make trial himself, onthe spot, of the virtue of this precious balsam, as he consideredit, and so he drank near a quart of what could not be put into thesk and remained in the pigskin in which it had been boiled; butscarcely had he done drinking when he began to vomit in such a waythat nothing was left in his stomach, and with the pangs and spasms ofvomiting he broke into a profuse sweat, on ount of which he badethem cover him up and leave him alone. they did so, and heysleeping more than three hours, at the end of which he awoke andfelt very great bodily relief and so much ease from his bruises thathe thought himself quite cured, and verily believed he had hit uponthe balsam of fierabras; and that with this remedy he mightthenceforward, without any fear, face any kind of destruction, battle,orbat, however perilous it might be. sancho panza, who also regarded the amendment of his master asmiraculous, begged him to give him what was left in the pigskin, whichwas no small quantity. don quixote consented, and he, taking it withboth hands, in good faith and with a better will, gulped down anddrained off very little less than his master. but the fact is, thatthe stomach of poor sancho was of necessity not so delicate as that ofhis master, and so, before vomiting, he was seized with suchgripings and retchings, and such sweats and faintness, that verily andtruly be believed hisst hour hade, and finding himself soracked and tormented he cursed the balsam and the thief that had givenit to him. don quixote seeing him in this state said, "it is my belief, sancho,that this mischiefes of thy not being dubbed a knight, for i ampersuaded this liquor cannot be good for those who are not so." "if your worship knew that," returned sancho- "woe betide me and allmy kindred!- why did you let me taste it?" at this moment the draught took effect, and the poor squire began todis²årge both ways at such a rate that the rush mat on which he hadthrown himself and the canvas nket he had covering him were fit fornothing afterwards. he sweated and perspired with such paroxysms andconvulsions that not only he himself but all present thought his endhade. this tempest and tribtionsted about two hours, atthe end of which he was left, not like his master, but so weak andexhausted that he could not stand. don quixote, however, who, as hasbeen said, felt himself relieved and well, was eager to take hisdeparture at once in quest of adventures, as it seemed to him that allthe time he loitered there was a fraud upon the world and those init who stood in need of his help and protection, all the more whenhe had the security and confidence his balsam afforded him; and so,urged by this impulse, he saddled rocinante himself and put thepack-saddle on his squires beast, whom likewise he helped to dressand mount the ass; after which he mounted his horse and turning to acorner of the inn heid hold of a pike that stood there, to servehim by way of ance. all that were in the inn, who were more thantwenty persons, stood watching him; the innkeepers daughter waslikewise observing him, and he too never took his eyes off her, andfrom time to time fetched a sigh that he seemed to pluck up from thedepths of his bowels; but they all thought it must be from the pain hefelt in his ribs; at any rate they who had seen him stered thenight before thought so. as soon as they were both mounted, at the gate of the inn, he calledto the host and said in a very grave and measured voice, "many andgreat are the favours, senor alcaide, that i have received in thiscastle of yours, and i remain under the deepest obligation to begrateful to you for them all the days of my life; if i can repaythem in avenging you of any arrogant foe who may have wronged you,know that my calling is no other than to aid the weak, to avenge thosewho suffer wrong, and to ²åstise perfidy. search your memory, andif you find anything of this kind you need only tell me of it, and ipromise you by the order of knighthood which i have received toprocure you satisfaction and reparation to the utmost of your desire." the innkeeper replied to him with equal calmness, "sir knight, ido not want your worship to avenge me of any wrong, because when anyis done me i can take what vengeance seems good to me; the onlything i want is that you pay me the score that you have run up inthe innst night, as well for the straw and barley for your twobeasts, as for supper and beds." "then this is an inn?" said don quixote. "and a very respectable one," said the innkeeper. "i have been under a mistake all this time," answered don quixote,"for in truth i thought it was a castle, and not a bad one; butsince it appears that it is not a castle but an inn, all that can bedone now is that you should excuse the payment, for i cannotcontravene the rule of knights-errant, of whom i know as a fact £¨andup to the present i have read nothing to the contrary£© that they neverpaid for lodging or anything else in the inn where they might be;for any hospitality that might be offered them is their due byw andright in return for the insufferable toil they endure in seekingadventures by night and by day, in summer and in winter, on foot andon horseback, in hunger and thirst, cold and heat, exposed to allthe inclemencies of heaven and all the hardships of earth." "i have little to do with that," replied the innkeeper; "pay me whatyou owe me, and let us have no more talk of chivalry, for all i careabout is to get my money." "you are a stupid, scurvy innkeeper," said don quixote, andputting spurs to rocinante and bringing his pike to the slope herode out of the inn before anyone could stop him, and puÉäd on somedistance without looking to see if his squire was following him. the innkeeper when he saw him go without paying him ran to getpayment of sancho, who said that as his master would not pay neitherwould he, because, being as he was squire to a knight-errant, the samerule and reason held good for him as for his master with regard to notpaying anything in inns and hostelries. at this the innkeeper waxedvery wroth, and threatened if he did not pay topel him in a waythat he would not like. to which sancho made answer that by thew ofchivalry his master had received he would not pay a rap, though itcost him his life; for the excellent and ancient usage ofknights-errant was not going to be vited by him, nor should thesquires of such as were yet toe into the world everin ofhim or reproach him with breaking so just a privilege. the ill-luck of the unfortunate sancho so ordered it that amongthepany in the inn there were four woolcarders from segovia, threeneedle-makers from the colt of cordova, and two lodgers from thefair of seville, lively fellows, tender-hearted, fond of a joke, andyful, who, almost as if instigated and moved by amon impulse,made up to sancho and dismounted him from his ass, while one of themwent in for the nket of the hosts bed; but on flinging him into itthey looked up, and seeing that the ceiling was somewhat lower whatthey required for their work, they decided upon going out into theyard, which was bounded by the sky, and there, putting sancho in themiddle of the nket, they began to raise him high, making sport withhim as they would with a dog at shrovetide. the cries of the poor nketed wretch were so loud that theyreached the ears of his master, who, halting to listen attentively,was persuaded that some new adventure wasing, until he clearlyperceived that it was his squire who uttered them. wheeling about hecame up to the inn with aborious gallop, and finding it shut wentround it to see if he could find some way of getting in; but as soonas he came to the wall of the yard, which was not very high, hediscovered the game that was being yed with his squire. he sawhim rising and falling in the air with such grace and nimbleness that,had his rage allowed him, it is my belief he would haveughed. hetried to climb from his horse on to the top of the wall, but he was sobruised and battered that he could not even dismount; and so fromthe back of his horse he began to utter such maledictions andobjurgations against those who were nketing sancho as it would beimpossible to write down urately: they, however, did not stay theiughter or their work for this, nor did the flying sancho cease himentations, mingled now with threats, now with entreaties but all tolittle purpose, or none at all, until from pure weariness they leftoff. they then brought him his ass, and mounting him on top of it theyput his jacket round him; and thepassionate maritornes, seeing himso exhausted, thought fit to refresh him with a jug of water, and thatit might be all the cooler Éä fetched it from the well. sancho tookit, and as he was raising it to his mouth he was stopped by thecries of his master eximing, "sancho, my son, drink not water;drink it not, my son, for it will kill thee; see, here i have theblessed balsam £¨and he held up the sk of liquor£©£¬ and with drinkingtwo drops of it thou wilt certainly be restored."
µÚ24Ò³ at these words sancho turned his eyes asquint, and in a still loudervoice said, "can it be your worship has forgotten that i am not aknight, or do you want me to end by vomiting up what bowels i haveleft afterst night? keep your liquor in the name of all the devils,and leave me to myself!" and at one and the same instant he left offtalking and began drinking; but as at the first sup he perceived itwas water he did not care to go on with it, and begged maritornes tofetch him some wine, which Éä did with right good will, and paidfor it with her own money; for indeed they say of her that, though Éäwas in that line of life, there was some faint and distant resemnceto a christian about her. when sancho had done drinking he dug hiÉäels into his ass, and the gate of the inn being thrown open hepassed out very well pleased at having paid nothing and carried hispoint, though it had been at the expense of his usual sureties, hisshoulders. it is true that the innkeeper detained his alforjas inpayment of what was owing to him, but sancho took his departure insuch a flurry that he never missed them. the innkeeper, as soon aÉä saw him off, wanted to bar the gate close, but the nketers wouldnot agree to it, for they were fellows who would not have cared twofarthings for don quixote, even had he been really one of theknights-errant of the round table. ²åpter xviii in which is rted the discourse sancho panza held with his master,don quixote, and other adventures worth rting sancho reached his master so limp and faint that he could not urgeon his beast. when don quixote saw the state he was in he said, "ihave nowe to the conclusion, good sancho, that this castle orinn is beyond a doubt en²ånted, because those who have so atrociouslydiverted themselves with thee, what can they be but phantoms or beingsof another world? and i hold this confirmed by having noticed thatwhen i was by the wall of the yard witnessing the acts of thy sadtragedy, it was out of my power to mount upon it, nor could i evendismount from rocinante, because they no doubt had me en²ånted; for iswear to thee by the faith of what i am that if i had been able toclimb up or dismount, i would have avenged thee in such a way thatthose braggart thieves would have remembered their freak for ever,even though in so doing i knew that i contravened thews ofchivalry, which, as i have often told thee, do not permit a knighttoy hands on him who is not one, save in case of urgent and greatnecessity in defence of his own life and person." "i would have avenged myself too if i could," said sancho,"whether i had been dubbed knight or not, but i could not; thoughfor my part i am persuaded those who amused themselves with me werenot phantoms or en²ånted men, as your worship says, but men offlesh and bone like ourselves; and they all had their names, for iheard them name them when they were tossing me, and one was calledpedro martinez, and another tenorio hernandez, and the innkeeper, iheard, was called juan palomeque the left-handed; so that, senor, yournot being able to leap over the wall of the yard or dismount from yourhorse came of something else besides en²åntments; and what i make outclearly from all this is, that these adventures we go seeking willin the end lead us into such misadventures that we shall not knowwhich is our right foot; and that the best and wisest thing, ordingto my small wits, would be for us to return home, now that it isharvest-time, and attend to our business, and give over wandering fromzeca to ma and from pail to bucket, as the saying is." "how little thou knowest about chivalry, sancho," replied donquixote; "hold thy peace and have patience; the day wille whenthou shalt see with thine own eyes what an honourable thing it is towander in the pursuit of this calling; nay, tell me, what greaterpleasure can there be in the world, or what delight can equal thatof winning a battle, and triumphing over ones enemy? none, beyond alldoubt." "very likely," answered sancho, "though i do not know it; all i knowis that since we have been knights-errant, or since your worship hasbeen one £¨for i have no right to reckon myself one of so honourablea number£© we have never won any battle except the one with thebiscayan, and even out of that your worship car-ne with half an earand half a helmet the less; and from that till now it has been allcudgellings and more cudgellings, cuffs and more cuffs, i gettingthe nketing over and above, and falling in with en²ånted personson whom i cannot avenge myself so as to know what the delight, as yourworship calls it, of conquering an enemy is like." "that is what vexes me, and what ought to vex thee, sancho," replieddon quixote; "but henceforward i will endeavour to have at hand somesword made by such craft that no kind of en²åntments can takeeffect upon him who carries it, and it is even possible that fortunemay procure for me that which belonged to amadis when he was calledthe knight of the burning sword, which was one of the best swordsthat ever knight in the world possessed, for, besides having thesaid virtue, it cut like a razor, and there was no armour, howeverstrong and en²ånted it might be, that could resist it." "such is my luck," said sancho, "that even if that happened and yourworship found some such sword, it would, like the balsam, turn outserviceable and good for dubbed knights only, and as for thesquires, they might sup sorrow." "fear not that, sancho," said don quixote: "heaven will dealbetter by thee." thus talking, don quixote and his squire were going along, when,on the road they were following, don quixote perceived approachingthem arge and thick cloud of dust, on seeing which he turned tosancho and said: "this is the day, sancho, on which will be seen the boon myfortune is reserving for me; this, i say, is the day on which asmuch as on any other shall be disyed the might of my arm, and onwhich i shall do deeds that shall remain written in the book of famefor all ages toe. seest thou that cloud of dust which risesyonder? well, then, all that is churned up by a vast armyposedof various and countless nations thates marching there." "ording to that there must be two," said sancho, "for on thisopposite side also there rises just such another cloud of dust." don quixote turned to look and found that it was true, and rejoicingexceedingly, he concluded that they were two armies about to engageand encounter in the midst of that broad in; for at all times andseasons his fancy was full of the battles, en²åntments, adventures,crazy feats, loves, and defiances that are recorded in the books ofchivalry, and everything he said, thought, or did had reference tosuch things. now the cloud of dust he had seen was raised by two greatdroves of Éäeping along the same road in opposite directions,which, because of the dust, did not be visible until they drewnear, but don quixote asserted so positively that they were armiesthat sancho was led to believe it and say, "well, and what are we todo, senor?" "what?" said don quixote: "give aid and assistance to the weak andthose who need it; and thou must know, sancho, that this whichesopposite to us is conducted and led by the mighty emperor alifanfaron,lord of the great isle of trapobana; this other that marches behind meis that of his enemy the king of the garamantas, pentapolin of thebare arm, for he always goes into battle with his right arm bare." "but why are these two lords such enemies?" "they are at enmity," replied don quixote, "because this alifanfaronis a furious pagan and is in love with the daughter of pentapolin, whois a very beautiful and moreover graciousdy, and a christian, andher father is unwilling to bestow her upon the pagan king unless hefirst abandons the religion of his false prophet mahomet, and adoptshis own." "by my beard," said sancho, "but pentapolin does quite right, andi will help him as much as i can." "in that thou wilt do what is thy duty, sancho," said don quixote;"for to engage in battles of this sort it is not requisite to be adubbed knight." "that i can well understand," answered sancho; "but where shall weput this ass where we may be sure to find him after the fray isover? for i believe it has not been the custom so far to go intobattle on a beast of this kind." "that is true," said don quixote, "and what you had best do with himis to leave him to take his ²ånce whether he be lost or not, forthe horses we shall have when wee out victors will be so many thateven rocinante will run a risk of being ²ånged for another. butattend to me and observe, for i wish to give thee some ount ofthe chief knights who apany these two armies; and that thou mayestthe better see and mark, let us withdraw to that hillock which risesyonder, whence both armies may be seen." they did so, and ced themselves on a rising ground from which thetwo droves that don quixote made armies of might have been inlyseen if the clouds of dust they raised had not obscured them andblinded the sight; nevertheless, seeing in his imagination what he didnot see and what did not exist, he began thus in a loud voice: "that knight whom thou seest yonder in yellow armour, who bears uponhis shield a lion crowned crouching at the feet of a damsel, is thevalianturcalco, lord of the silver bridge; that one in armourwith flowers of gold, who bears on his shield three crowns argent onan azure field, is the dreaded micocolembo, grand duke of quirocia;that other of gigantic frame, on his right hand, is the ever dauntlessbrandabarbaran de boliche, lord of the three arabias, who for armourwears that serpent skin, and has for shield a gate which, ording totradition, is one of those of the temple that samson brought to theground when by his death he revenged himself upon his enemies. butturn thine eyes to the other side, and thou shalt see in front andin the van of this other army the ever victorious and never vanquiÉädtimonel of carcajona, prince of new biscay, whoes in armour witharms quartered azure, vert, white, and yellow, and bears on his shielda cat or on a field tawny with a motto which says miau, which is thebeginning of the name of hisdy, who ording to report is thepeerless miaulina, daughter of the duke alfeniquen of the algarve; theother, who burdens and presses the loins of that powerful ²årgerand bears arms white as snow and a shield nk and without anydevice, is a novice knight, a frenchman by birth, pierres papin byname, lord of the baronies of utrique; that other, who withiron-shod heels strikes the nks of that nimble parti-colouredzebra, and for arms bears azure vair, is the mighty duke of nerbia,espartafrdo del bosque, who bears for device on his shield anasparagus nt with a motto in castilian that says, rastrea misuerte." and so he went on naming a number of knights of onesquadron or the other out of his imagination, and to all he assignedoff-hand their arms, colours, devices, and mottoes, carried away bythe illusions of his unheard-of craze; and without a pause, hecontinued, "people of divers nationspose this squadron in front;here are those that drink of the sweet waters of the famous xanthus,those that scour the woody massilian ins, those that sift thepure fine gold of arabia felix, those that enjoy the famed coolbanks of the crystal thermodon, those that in many and various waysdivert the streams of the golden pactolus, the numidians, faithless intheir promises, the persians renowned in archery, the parthians andthe medes that fight as they fly, the arabs that ever shift theirdwellings, the scythians as cruel as they are fair, the ethiopianswith pierced lips, and an infinity of other nations whose features irecognise and descry, though i cannot recall their names. in thisother squadron theree those that drink of the crystal streams ofthe olive-bearing betis, those that make smooth their countenanceswith the water of the ever rich and golden tagus, those that rejoicein the fertilising flow of the divine genil, those that roam thetartesian ins abounding in pasture, those that take theirpleasure in the elysian meadows of jerez, the rich mancheganscrowned with ruddy ears of corn, the wearers of iron, old relics ofthe gothic race, those that bathe in the pisuerga renowned for itsgentle current, those that feed their herds along the spreadingpastures of the winding guadiana famed for its hidden course, thosethat tremble with the cold of the pined pyrenees or the dazzlingsnows of the lofty apennine; in a word, as many as all europe includesand contains."
µÚ25Ò³ good god! what a number of countries and nations he named! giving toeach its proper attributes with marvellous readiness; brimful andsaturated with what he had read in his lying books! sancho panzahung upon his words without speaking, and from time to time turnedto try if he could see the knights and giants his master wasdescribing, and as he could not make out one of them he said to him: "senor, devil take it if theres a sign of any man you talk of,knight or giant, in the whole thing; maybe its all en²åntment,like the phantomsst night." "how canst thou say that!" answered don quixote; "dost thou not hearthe neighing of the steeds, the braying of the trumpets, the roll ofthe drums?" "i hear nothing but a great bleating of ewes and Éäep," saidsancho; which was true, for by this time the two flocks hadeclose. "the fear thou art in, sancho," said don quixote, "prevents theefrom seeing or hearing correctly, for one of the effects of fear is toderange the senses and make things appear different from what theyare; if thou art in such fear, withdraw to one side and leave me tomyself, for alone i suffice to bring victory to that side to which ishall give my aid;" and so saying he gave rocinante the spur, andputting thence in rest, shot down the slope like a thunderbolt.sancho shouted after him, crying, "e back, senor don quixote; i vowto god they are Éäep and ewes you are ²årging!e back! unluckythe father that begot me! what madness is this! look, there is nogiant, nor knight, nor cats, nor arms, nor shields quartered or whole,nor vair azure or bedevilled. what are you about? sinner that i ambefore god!" but not for all these entreaties did don quixote turnback; on the contrary he went on shouting out, "ho, knights, ye whofollow and fight under the banners of the valiant emperor pentapolinof the bare arm, follow me all; ye shall see how easily i shall givehim his revenge over his enemy alifanfaron of the trapobana." so saying, he daÉäd into the midst of the squadron of ewes, andbegan spearing them with as much spirit and intrepidity as if hewere transfiÐÔ mortal enemies in earnest. the Éäpherds anddrovers apanying the flock shouted to him to desist; seeing it wasno use, they ungirt their slings and began to salute his ears withstones as big as ones fist. don quixote gave no heed to the stones,but, letting drive right and left kept saying: "where art thou, proud alifanfaron?e before me; i am a singleknight who would fain prove thy prowess hand to hand, and make theeyield thy life a penalty for the wrong thou dost to the valiantpentapolin garamanta." here came a sugar-plum from the brook thatstruck him on the side and buried a couple of ribs in his body.feeling himself so smitten, he imagined himself in or badly woundedfor certain, and recollecting his liquor he drew out his sk, andputting it to his mouth began to pour the contents into his stomach;but ere he had seeded in swallowing what seemed to him enough,there came another almond which struck him on the hand and on thesk so fairly that it smaÉäd it to pieces, knocking three or fourteeth and grinders out of his mouth in its course, and sorely crushingtwo fingers of his hand. such was the force of the first blow and ofthe second, that the poor knight in spite of himself came downbackwards off his horse. the Éäpherds came up, and felt sure they hadkilled him; so in all haste they collected their flock together,took up the dead beasts, of which there were more than seven, and madeoff without waiting to ascertain anything further. all this time sancho stood on the hill watching the crazy featshis master was performing, and tearing his beard and cursing thehour and the asion when fortune had made him acquainted with him.seeing him, then, brought to the ground, and that the Éäpherds hadtaken themselves off, he ran to him and found him in very bad case,though not unconscious; and said he: "did i not tell you toe back, senor don quixote; and that whatyou were going to attack were not armies but droves of Éäep?" "thats how that thief of a sage, my enemy, can alter and falsifythings," answered don quixote; "thou must know, sancho, that it is avery easy matter for those of his sort to make us believe what theychoose; and this malignant being who persecutes me, envious of theglory he knew i was to win in this battle, has turned the squadrons ofthe enemy into droves of Éäep. at any rate, do this much, i beg ofthee, sancho, to undeceive thyself, and see that what i say is true;mount thy ass and follow them quietly, and thou shalt see that whenthey have gone some little distance from this they will return totheir original shape and, ceasing to be Éäep, be men in allrespects as i described them to thee at first. but go not just yet,for i want thy help and assistance;e hither, and see how many ofmy teeth and grinders are missing, for i feel as if there was notone left in my mouth." sancho came so close that he almost put his eyes into his mouth; nowjust at that moment the balsam had acted on the stomach of donquixote, so, at the very instant when sancho came to examine hismouth, he dis²årged all its contents with more force than a musket,and full into the beard of thepassionate squire. "holy mary!" cried sancho, "what is this that has happened me?clearly this sinner is mortally wounded, as he vomits blood from themouth;" but considering the matter a little more closely heperceived by the colour, taste, and smell, that it was not blood butthe balsam from the sk which he had seen him drink; and he wastaken with such a loathing that his stomach turned, and he vomitedup his inside over his very master, and both were left in a preciousstate. sancho ran to his ass to get something wherewith to cleanhimself, and relieve his master, out of his alforjas; but notfinding them, he well-nigh took leave of his senses, and cursedhimself anew, and in his heart resolved to quit his master andreturn home, even though he forfeited the wages of his service and allhopes of the promised ind. don quixote now rose, and putting his left hand to his mouth to keephis teeth from falling out altogether, with the other heid holdof the bridle of rocinante, who had never stirred from his mastersside- so loyal and well-behaved was he- and betook himself to wherethe squire stood leaning over his ass with his hand to his cheek, likeone in deep dejection. seeing him in this mood, looking so sad, donquixote said to him: "bear in mind, sancho, that one man is no more than another,unless he does more than another; all these tempests that fall upon usare signs that fair weather ising shortly, and that things will gowell with us, for it is impossible for good or evil tost forever; and hence it follows that the evil havingsted long, thegood must be now nigh at hand; so thou must not distress thyself atthe misfortunes which happen to me, since thou hast no share in them." "how have i not?" replied sancho; "was he whom they nketedyesterday per²ånce any other than my fathers son? and the alforjasthat are missing to-day with all my treasures, did they belong toany other but myself?" "what! are the alforjas missing, sancho?" said don quixote. "yes, they are missing," answered sancho. "in that case we have nothing to eat to-day," replied don quixote. "it would be so," answered sancho, "if there were none of theherbs your worship says you know in these meadows, those with whichknights-errant as unlucky as your worship are wont to supply such-likeshorings." "for all that," answered don quixote, "i would rather have justnow a quarter of bread, or a loaf and a couple of pil²årds heads,than all the herbs described by dioscorides, even with doctorgunasnotes. nevertheless, sancho the good, mount thy beast ande alongwith me, for god, who provides for all things, will not fail us£¨more especially when we are so active in his service as we are£©£¬since he fails not the midges of the air, nor the grubs of theearth, nor the tadpoles of the water, and is so merciful that hemaketh his sun to rise on the good and on the evil, and sendeth rainon the unjust and on the just." "your worship would make a better preacher than knight-errant," saidsancho. "knights-errant knew and ought to know everything, sancho," said donquixote; "for there were knights-errant in former times as wellqualified to deliver a sermon or discourse in the middle of anencampment, as if they had graduated in the university of paris;whereby we may see that thence has never blunted the pen, nor thepen thence." "well, be it as your worship says," replied sancho; "let us be offnow and find some ce of Éälter for the night, and god grant it maybe somewhere where there are no nkets, nor nketeers, norphantoms, nor en²ånted moors; for if there are, may the devil takethe whole concern." "ask that of god, my son," said don quixote; and do thou lead onwhere thou wilt, for this time i leave our lodging to thy choice;but reach me here thy hand, and feel with thy finger, and find out howmany of my teeth and grinders are missing from this right side ofthe upper jaw, for it is there i feel the pain." sancho put in his fingers, and feeling about asked him, "how manygrinders used your worship have on this side?"
µÚ26Ò³ "four," replied don quixote, "besides the back-tooth, all wholeand quite sound." "mind what you are saying, senor." "i say four, if not five," answered don quixote, "for never in mylife have i had tooth or grinder drawn, nor has any fallen out or beendestroyed by any decay or rheum." "well, then," said sancho, "in this lower side your worship has nomore than two grinders and a half, and in the upper neither a half norany at all, for it is all as smooth as the palm of my hand." "luckless that i am!" said don quixote, hearing the sad news hissquire gave him; "i had rather they despoiled me of an arm, so it werenot the sword-arm; for i tell thee, sancho, a mouth without teeth islike a mill without a millstone, and a tooth is much more to be prizedthan a diamond; but we who profess the austere order of chivalry areliable to all this. mount, friend, and lead the way, and i will followthee at whatever pace thou wilt." sancho did as he bade him, and proceeded in the direction in whichhe thought he might find refuge without quitting the high road,which was there very much frequented. as they went along, then, at aslow pace- for the pain in don quixotes jaws kept him uneasy andill-disposed for speed- sancho thought it well to amuse and divert himby talk of some kind, and among the things he said to him was thatwhich will be told in the following ²åpter. ²åpter xix of the shrewd discourse which sancho held with his master, and ofthe adventure that befell him with a dead body, together with othernotable urrences "it seems to me, senor, that all these mishaps that have befallen usofte have been without any doubt a punishment for the offencmitted by your worship against the order of chivalry in not keepingthe oath you made not to eat bread off a tablecloth or embrace thequeen, and all the rest of it that your worship swore to observe untilyou had taken that helmet of mndrinos, or whatever the moor iscalled, for i do not very well remember." "thou art very right, sancho," said don quixote, "but to tell thetruth, it had escaped my memory; and likewise thou mayest rely upon itthat the affair of the nket happened to thee because of thy faultin not reminding me of it in time; but i will make amends, for thereare ways ofpounding for everything in the order of chivalry." "why! have i taken an oath of some sort, then?" said sancho. "it makes no matter that thou hast not taken an oath," said donquixote; "suffice it that i see thou art not quite clear oplicity; and whether or no, it will not be ill done to provideourselves with a remedy." "in that case," said sancho, "mind that your worship does not forgetthis as you did the oath; perhaps the phantoms may take it intotheir heads to amuse themselves once more with me; or even with yourworship if they see you so obstinate." while engaged in this and other talk, night overtook them on theroad before they had reached or discovered any ce of Éälter; andwhat made it still worse was that they were dying of hunger, forwith the loss of the alforjas they had lost their entirerder anmissariat; and toplete the misfortune they met with anadventure which without any invention had really the appearance ofone. it so happened that the night closed in somewhat darkly, butfor all that they puÉäd on, sancho feeling sure that as the roadwas the kings highway they might reasonably expect to find some innwithin a league or two. going along, then, in this way, the nightdark, the squire hungry, the master sharp-set, they sawing towardsthem on the road they were travelling a great number of lights whichlooked exactly like stars in motion. sancho was taken aback at thesight of them, nor did don quixote altogether relish them: the onepulled up his ass by the halter, the other his hack by the bridle, andthey stood still, watching anxiously to see what all this would turnout to be, and found that the lights were approaching them, and thenearer they came the greater they seemed, at which spectacle sanchobegan to shake like a man dosed with mercury, and don quixotes hairstood on end; he, however, plucking up spirit a little, said: "this, no doubt, sancho, will be a most mighty and perilousadventure, in which it will be needful for me to put forth all myvalour and resolution." "unlucky me!" answered sancho; "if this adventure happens to beone of phantoms, as i am beginning to think it is, where shall ifind the ribs to bear it?" "be they phantoms ever so much," said don quixote, "i will notpermit them to touch a thread of thy garments; for if they yedtricks with thee the time before, it was because i was unable toleap the walls of the yard; but now we are on a wide in, where ishall be able to wield my sword as i please." "and if they en²ånt and cripple you as they did thest time,"said sancho, "what difference will it make being on the open inor not?" "for all that," replied don quixote, "i entreat thee, sancho, tokeep a good heart, for experience will tell thee what mine is." "i will, please god," answered sancho, and the two retiring to oneside of the road set themselves to observe closely what all thesemoving lights might be; and very soon afterwards they made out sometwenty encamisados, all on horseback, with lighted torches in theirhands, the awe-inspiring aspect of whompletely extinguiÉäd thecourage of sancho, who began to ²åtter with his teeth like one in thecold fit of an ague; and his heart sank and his teeth ²åtteredstill more when they perceived distinctly that behind them therecame a litter covered over with ck and followed by six more mountedfigures in mourning down to the very feet of their mules- for theycould perceive inly they were not horses by the easy pace atwhich they went. and as the encamisados came along they muttered tothemselves in a low intive tone. this strange spectacle at su²ån hour and in such a solitary ce was quite enough to strike terrorinto sanchos heart, and even into his masters; and £¨save in donquixotes case£© did so, for all sanchos resolution had now brokendown. it was just the opposite with his master, whose imaginationimmediately conjured up all this to him vividly as one of theadventures of his books. he took it into his head that the litter was a bier on which wasborne some sorely wounded or in knight, to avenge whom was a taskreserved for him alone; and without any further reasoning heidhisnce in rest, fixed himself firmly in his saddle, and withgant spirit and bearing took up his position in the middle of theroad where the encamisados must of necessity pass; and as soon as hesaw them near at hand he raised his voice and said: "halt, knights, or whosoever ye may be, and render me ount of whoye are, whence yee, where ye go, what it is ye carry upon thatbier, for, to judge by appearances, either ye have done some wrongor some wrong has been done to you, and it is fitting and necessarythat i should know, either that i may ²åstise you for the evil yehave done, or else that i may avenge you for the injury that hasbeen inflicted upon you." "we are in haste," answered one of the encamisados, "and the innis far off, and we cannot stop to render you such an ount as youdemand;" and spurring his mule he moved on. don quixote was mightily provoked by this answer, and seizing themule by the bridle he said, "halt, and be more mannerly, and render anount of what i have asked of you; else, take my defiance tobat,all of you." the mule was shy, and was so frightened at her bridle being seizedthat rearing up Éä flung her rider to the ground over her haunches.an attendant who was on foot, seeing the encamisado fall, began toabuse don quixote, who now moved to anger, without any more adoying hisnce in rest ²årged one of the men in mourning andbrought him badly wounded to the ground, and as he wheeled roundupon the others the agility with which he attacked and routed them wasa sight to see, for it seemed just as if wings had that instantgrown upon rocinante, so lightly and proudly did he bear himself.the encamisados were all timid folk and unarmed, so they speedily madetheir escape from the fray and set off at a run across the inwith their lighted torches, looking exactly like maskers running onsome g or festival night. the mourners, too, enveloped andswathed in their skirts and gowns, were unable to bestir themselves,and so with entire safety to himself don quixote bboured them and drove them off against their will, for they all thought it wasno man but a devil from helle to carry away the dead body they hadin the litter. sancho beheld all this in astonishment at the intrepidity of hislord, and said to himself, "clearly this master of mine is as bold andvaliant as he says he is." a burning torchy on the ground near the first man whom the mulehad thrown, by the light of which don quixote perceived him, aning up to him he presented the point of thence to his face,calling on him to yield himself prisoner, or else he would kill him;to which the prostrate man replied, "i am prisoner enough as it is;i cannot stir, for one of my legs is broken: i entreat you, if yoube a christian gentleman, not to kill me, which will bemittinggrave sacrilege, for i am a licentiate and i hold first orders."
µÚ27Ò³ "then what the devil brought you here, being a churchman?" saiddon quixote. "what, senor?" said the other. "my bad luck." "then still worse awaits you," said don quixote, "if you do notsatisfy me as to all i asked you at first." "you shall be soon satisfied," said the licentiate; "you mustknow, then, that though just now i said i was a licentiate, i amonly a bachelor, and my name is alonzo lopez; i am a native ofalcobendas, ie from the city of baeza with eleven others, priests,the same who fled with the torches, and we are going to the city ofsegovia apanying a dead body which is in that litter, and isthat of a gentleman who died in baeza, where he was interred; and now,as i said, we are taking his bones to their burial-ce, which isin segovia, where he was born." "and who killed him?" asked don quixote. "god, by means of a malignant fever that took him," answered thebachelor. "in that case," said don quixote, "the lord has relieved me of thetask of avenging his death had any other in him; but, he who slewhim having in him, there is nothing for it but to be silent, andshrug ones shoulders; i should do the same were he to y myself;and i would have your reverence know that i am a knight ofman²å, don quixote by name, and it is my business and calling to roamthe world righting wrongs and redressing injuries." "i do not know how that about righting wrongs can be," said thebachelor, "for from straight you have made me crooked, leaving me witha broken leg that will never see itself straight again all the days ofits life; and the injury you have redressed in my case has been toleave me injured in such a way that i shall remain injured for ever;and the height of misadventure it was to fall in with you who go insearch of adventures." "things do not all happen in the same way," answered don quixote;"it all came, sir bachelor alonzo lopez, of your going, as you did, bynight, dressed in those surplices, with lighted torches, praying,covered with mourning, so that naturally you looked like somethingevil and of the other world; and so i could not avoid doing my duty inattacking you, and i should have attacked you even had i knownpositively that you were the very devils of hell, for such i certainlybelieved and took you to be." "as my fate has so willed it," said the bachelor, "i entreat you,sir knight-errant, whose errand has been such an evil one for me, tohelp me to get from under this mule that holds one of my legs caughtbetween the stirrup and the saddle." "i would have talked on till to-morrow," said don quixote; "how longwere you going to wait before telling me of your distress?" he at once called to sancho, who, however, had no mind toe, aÉä was just then engaged in unloading a sumpter mule, welldenwith provender, which these worthy gentlemen had brought with them.sancho made a bag of his coat, and, getting together as much as hecould, and as the bag would hold, he loaded his beast, and thenhastened to obey his masters call, and helped him to remove thebachelor from under the mule; then putting him on her back he gave himthe torch, and don quixote bade him follow the track of hipanions, and beg pardon of them on his part for the wrong whichhe could not help doing them. and said sancho, "if by ²ånce these gentlemen should want to knowwho was the hero that served them so, your worship may tell themthat he is the famous don quixote of man²å, otherwise called theknight of the rueful countenance." the bachelor then took his departure. i forgot to mention that before he did so he said to don quixote,"remember that you stand emunicated for havingid violenthands on a holy thing, juxta illud, si quis, suadente diabolo." "i do not understand thattin," answered don quixote, "but iknow well i did noty hands, only this pike; besides, i did notthink i wasmitting an assault upon priests or things of thechurch, which, like a catholic and faithful christian as i am, irespect and revere, but upon phantoms and spectres of the other world;but even so, i remember how it fared with cid ruy diaz when he brokethe ²åir of the ambassador of that king before his holiness the pope,who emunicated him for the same; and yet the good roderick ofvivar bore himself that day like a very noble and valiant knight." on hearing this the bachelor took his departure, as has been said,without making any reply; and don quixote asked sancho what hadinduced him to call him the "knight of the rueful countenance" morethen than at any other time. "i will tell you," answered sancho; "it was because i have beenlooking at you for some time by the light of the torch held by thatunfortunate, and verily your worship has got ofte the mostill-favoured countenance i ever saw: it must be either owing to thefatigue of thisbat, or else to the want of teeth and grinders." "it is not that," replied don quixote, "but because the sage whoseduty it will be to write the history of my achievements must havethought it proper that i should take some distinctive name as allknights of yore did; one being he of the burning sword, anotherhe of the unicorn, this one he of the damsels, that he of thephoenix, another the knight of the griffin, and another he ofthe death, and by these names and designations they were known allthe world round; and so i say that the sage aforesaid must have put itinto your mouth and mind just now to call me the knight of the ruefulcountenance, as i intend to call myself from this day forward; andthat the said name may fit me better, i mean, when the opportunityoffers, to have a very rueful countenance painted on my shield." "there is no asion, senor, for wasting time or money on makingthat countenance," said sancho; "for all that need be done is for yourworship to show your own, face to face, to those who look at you,and without anything more, either image or shield, they will callyou him of the rueful countenance and believe me i am telling youthe truth, for i assure you, senor £¨and in good part be it said£©£¬hunger and the loss of your grinders have given you such anill-favoured face that, as i say, the rueful picture may be verywell spared." don quixoteughed at sanchos pleasantry; nevertheless he resolvedto call himself by that name, and have his shield or buckler paintedas he had devised. don quixote would have looked to see whether the body in thelitter were bones or not, but sancho would not have it, saying: "senor, you have ended this perilous adventure more safely foryourself than any of those i have seen: perhaps these people, thoughbeaten and routed, may bethink themselves that it is a single man thathas beaten them, and feeling sore and ashamed of it may take heart ane in search of us and give us trouble enough. the ass is inproper trim, the mountains are near at hand, hunger presses, we havenothing more to do but make good our retreat, and, as the saying is,the dead to the grave and the living to the loaf." and driving his ass before him he begged his master to follow,who, feeling that sancho was right, did so without replying; and afterproceeding some little distance between two hills they foundthemselves in a wide and retired valley, where they alighted, andsancho unloaded his beast, and stretched upon the green grass, withhunger for sauce, they breakfasted, dined, lunched, and supped at once, satisfying their appetites with more than one store of coldmeat which the dead mans clerical gentlemen £¨who seldom putthemselves on short allowance£© had brought with them on theirsumpter mule. but another piece of ill-luck befell them, whichsancho held the worst of all, and that was that they had no wine todrink, nor even water to moisten their lips; and as thirst tormentedthem, sancho, observing that the meadow where they were was full ofgreen and tender grass, said what will be told in the following²åpter. ²åpter xx of the unexampled and unheard-of adventure which was achieved by thevaliant don quixote of man²å with less peril than any everachieved by any famous knight in the world "it cannot be, senor, but that this grass is a proof that there mustbe hard by some spring or brook to give it moisture, so it would bewell to move a little farther on, that we may find some ce where wemay quench this terrible thirst that gues us, which beyond adoubt is more distressing than hunger." the advice seemed good to don quixote, and, he leading rocinanteby the bridle and sancho the ass by the halter, after he had packedaway upon him the remains of the supper, they advanced the meadowfeeling their way, for the darkness of the night made it impossible tosee anything; but they had not gone two hundred paces when a loudnoise of water, as if falling from great rocks, struck their ears. thesound cheered them greatly; but halting to make out by listeningfrom what quarter it came they heard unseasonably another noisewhich spoiled the satisfaction the sound of the water gave them,especially for sancho, who was by nature timid and faint-hearted. theyheard, i say, strokes falling with a measured beat, and a certainrattling of iron and ²åins that, together with the furious din of thewater, would have struck terror into any heart but don quixotes.the night was, as has been said, dark, and they had happened toreach a spot in among some tall trees, whose leaves stirred by agentle breeze made a low ominous sound; so that, what with thesolitude, the ce, the darkness, the noise of the water, and therustling of the leaves, everything inspired awe and dread; moreespecially as they perceived that the strokes did not cease, nor thewind lull, nor morning approach; to all which might be added theirignorance as to where they were. but don quixote, supported by hisintrepid heart, leaped on rocinante, and bracing his buckler on hisarm, brought his pike to the slope, and said, "friend sancho, knowthat i by heavens will have been born in this our iron age torevive revive in it the age of gold, or the golden as it is called;i am he for whom perils, mighty achievements, and valiant deeds arereserved; i am, i say again, he who is to revive the knights of theround table, the twelve of france and the nine worthies; and he who isto consign to oblivion the tirs, the tantes, the olivantes andtirantes, the phoebuses and belianises, with the whole herd offamous knights-errant of days gone by, performing in these in whichi live such exploits, marvels, and feats of arms as shall obscuretheir brightest deeds. thou dost mark well, faithful and trustysquire, the gloom of this night, its strange silence, the dullconfused murmur of those trees, the awful sound of that water in questof which we came, that seems as though it were precipitating anddashing itself down from the lofty mountains of the moon, and thatincessant hammering that wounds and pains our ears; which things alltogether and each of itself are enough to instil fear, dread, anddismay into the breast of mars himself, much more into one not used tohazards and adventures of the kind. well, then, all this that i putbefore thee is but an incentive and stimnt to my spirit, makingmy heart burst in my bosom through eagerness to engage in thisadventure, arduous as it promises to be; therefore tighten rocinantesgirths a little, and god be with thee; wait for me here three days andno more, and if in that time ie not back, thou canst return to ourvige, and thence, to do me a favour and a service, thou wilt goto el toboso, where thou shalt say to my iparabledy dulcineathat her captive knight hath died in attempting things that might makehim worthy of being called hers."
µÚ28Ò³ when sancho heard his masters words he began to weep in the mostpathetic way, saying: "senor, i know not why your worship wants to attempt this sodreadful adventure; it is night now, no one sees us here, we caneasily turn about and take ourselves out of danger, even if we dontdrink for three days toe; and as there is no one to see us, allthe less will there be anyone to set us down as cowards; besides, ihave many a time heard the curate of our vige, whom your worshipknows well, preach that he who seeks danger periÉäs in it; so it isnot right to tempt god by trying so tremendous a feat from which therecan be no escape save by a miracle, and heaven has performed enough ofthem for your worship in delivering you from being nketed as i was,and bringing you out victorious and safe and sound from among allthose enemies that were with the dead man; and if all this does notmove or soften that hard heart, let this thought and reflection moveit, that you will have hardly quitted this spot when from pure feari shall yield my soul up to anyone that will take it. i left homeand wife and children toe and serve your worship, trusting to dobetter and not worse; but as covetousness bursts the bag, it hasrent my hopes asunder, for just as i had them highest about gettingthat wretched unlucky ind your worship has so often promised me,i see that instead and in lieu of it you mean to desert me now in ace so far from human reach: for gods sake, master mine, deal notso unjustly by me, and if your worship will not entirely give upattempting this feat, at least put it off till morning, for by whatthe lore i learned when i was a Éäpherd tells me it cannot want threehours of dawn now, because the mouth of the horn is overhead and makesmidnight in the line of the left arm." "how canst thou see, sancho," said don quixote, "where it makes thatline, or where this mouth or this iput is that thou talkest of,when the night is so dark that there is not a star to be seen in thewhole heaven?" "thats true," said sancho, "but fear has sharp eyes, and seesthings underground, much more above in heavens; besides, there is goodreason to show that it now wants but little of day." "let it want what it may," replied don quixote, "it shall not besaid of me now or at any time that tears or entreaties turned me asidefrom doing what was in ordance with knightly usage; and so i beg ofthee, sancho, to hold thy peace, for god, who has put it into my heartto undertake now this so unexampled and terrible adventure, willtake care to watch over my safety and console thy sorrow; what thouhast to do is to tighten rocinantes girths well, and wait here, for ishalle back shortly, alive or dead." sancho perceiving it his masters final resolve, and how littlehis tears, counsels, and entreaties prevailed with him, determinedto have recourse to his own ingenuity andpel him, if he could,to wait till daylight; and so, while tightening the girths of thehorse, he quietly and without being felt, with his ass halter tiedboth rocinantes legs, so that when don quixote strove to go he wasunable as the horse could only move by jumps. seeing the sess ofhis trick, sancho panza said: "see there, senor! heaven, moved by my tears and prayers, has soordered it that rocinante cannot stir; and if you will be obstinate,and spur and strike him, you will only provoke fortune, and kick, asthey say, against the pricks." don quixote at this grew desperate, but the more he drove hiÉäels into the horse, the less he stirred him; and not having anysuspicion of the tying, he was fain to resign himself and wait tilldaybreak or until rocinante could move, firmly persuaded that all thiscame of something other than sanchos ingenuity. so he said to him,"as it is so, sancho, and as rocinante cannot move, i am content towait till dawn smiles upon us, even though i weep while it dysitsing." "there is no need to weep," answered sancho, "for i will amuseyour worship by telling stories from this till daylight, unless indeedyou like to dismount and lie down to sleep a little on the green grassafter the fashion of knights-errant, so as to be freÉär when daes and the moment arrives for attempting this extraordinaryadventure you are looking forward to." "what art thou talking about dismounting or sleeping for?" saiddon quixote. "am i, thinkest thou, one of those knights that taketheir rest in the presence of danger? sleep thou who art born tosleep, or do as thou wilt, for i will act as i think most consistentwith my ²åracter." "be not angry, master mine," replied sancho, "i did not mean tosay that;" anding close to him heid one hand on the pommel ofthe saddle and the other on the cantle so that he held his mastersleft thigh in his embrace, not daring to separate a fingers widthfrom him; so much afraid was he of the strokes which still resoundedwith a regr beat. don quixote bade him tell some story to amuse himas he had proposed, to which sancho replied that he would if his dreadof what he heard would let him; "still," said he, "i will strive totell a story which, if i can manage to rte it, and nobodyinterferes with the telling, is the best of stories, and let yourworship give me your attention, for here i begin. what was, was; andmay the good that is toe be for all, and the evil for him who goesto look for it -your worship must know that the beginning the old folkused to put to their tales was not just as each one pleased; it wasa maxim of cato zonzorino the roman, that says the evil for himthat goes to look for it, and ites as pat to the purpose now asring to finger, to show that your worship should keep quiet and not golooking for evil in any quarter, and that we should go back by someother road, since nobody forces us to follow this in which so manyterrors affright us." "go on with thy story, sancho," said don quixote, "and leave thechoice of our road to my care." "i say then," continued sancho, "that in a vige of estremadurathere was a goat-Éäpherd -that is to say, one who tended goats- whichÉäpherd or goatherd, as my story goes, was called lope ruiz, and thislope ruiz was in love with a Éäpherdess called torralva, whichÉäpherdess called torralva was the daughter of a rich grazier, andthis rich grazier-" "if that is the way thou tellest thy tale, sancho," said donquixote, "repeating twice all thou hast to say, thou wilt not havedone these two days; go straight on with it, and tell it like areasonable man, or else say nothing." "tales are always told in my country in the very way i am tellingthis," answered sancho, "and i cannot tell it in any other, nor isit right of your worship to ask me to make new customs." "tell it as thou wilt," replied don quixote; "and as fate willhave it that i cannot help listening to thee, go on." "and so, lord of my soul," continued sancho, as i have said, thisÉäpherd was in love with torralva the Éäpherdess, who was a wildbuxomss with something of the look of a man about her, for Éähad little moustaches; i fancy i see her now." "then you knew her?" said don quixote. "i did not know her," said sancho, "but he who told me the storysaid it was so true and certain that when i told it to another i mightsafely dere and swear i had seen it all myself. and so in course oftime, the devil, who never sleeps and puts everything in confusion,contrived that the love the Éäpherd bore the Éäpherdess turnedinto hatred and ill-will, and the reason, ording to evil tongues,was some little jealousy Éä caused him that crossed the line andtrespassed on forbidden ground; and so much did the Éäpherd hateher from that time forward that, in order to escape from her, hedetermined to quit the country and go where he should never set eyeson her again. torralva, when Éä found herself spurned by lope, wasimmediately smitten with love for him, though Éä had never lovedhim before." "that is the natural way of women," said don quixote, "to scornthe one that loves them, and love the one that hates them: go on,sancho." "it came to pass," said sancho, "that the Éäpherd carried out hisintention, and driving his goats before him took his way across theins of estremadura to pass over into the kingdom of portugal.torralva, who knew of it, went after him, and on foot and barefootfollowed him at a distance, with a pilgrims staff in her hand and ascrip round her neck, in which Éä carried, it is said, a bit oflooking-ss and a piece of ab and some little pot or other ofpaint for her face; but let her carry what Éä did, i am not goingto trouble myself to prove it; all i say is, that the Éäpherd, theysay, came with his flock to cross over the river guadiana, which wasat that time swollen and almost overflowing its banks, and at the spothe came to there was neither ferry nor boat nor anyone to carry him orhis flock to the other side, at which he was much vexed, for heperceived that torralva was approaching and would give him greatannoyance with her tears and entreaties; however, he went lookingabout so closely that he discovered a fiÉärman who had alongside ofhim a boat so small that it could only hold one person and one goat;but for all that he spoke to him and agreed with him to carryhimself and his three hundred goats across. the fiÉärman got into theboat and carried one goat over; he came back and carried another over;he came back again, and again brought over another- let your worshipkeep count of the goats the fiÉärman is taking across, for if oneescapes the memory there will be an end of the story, and it will beimpossible to tell another word of it. to proceed, i must tell you thnding ce on the other side was miry and slippery, and thefiÉärman lost a great deal of time in going anding; still hereturned for another goat, and another, and another."
µÚ29Ò³ "take it for granted he brought them all across," said donquixote, "and dont keep going anding in this way, or thou wiltnot make an end of bringing them over this twelvemonth." "how many have gone across so far?" said sancho. "how the devil do i know?" replied don quixote. "there it is," said sancho, "what i told you, that you must keep agood count; well then, by god, there is an end of the story, for thereis no going any farther." "how can that be?" said don quixote; "is it so essential to thestory to know to a nicety the goats that have crossed over, that ifthere be a mistake of one in the reckoning, thou canst not go onwith it?" "no, senor, not a bit," replied sancho; "for when i asked yourworship to tell me how many goats had crossed, and you answered youdid not know, at that very instant all i had to say passed away out ofmy memory, and, faith, there was much virtue in it, andentertainment." "so, then," said don quixote, "the story hase to an end?" "as much as my mother has," said sancho. "in truth," said don quixote, "thou hast told one of the rareststories, tales, or histories, that anyone in the world could haveimagined, and such a way of telling it and ending it was never seennor will be in a lifetime; though i expected nothing else from thyexcellent understanding. but i do not wonder, for perhaps thoseceaseless strokes may have confused thy wits." "all that may be," replied sancho, "but i know that as to mystory, all that can be said is that it ends there where the mistake inthe count of the passage of the goats begins." "let it end where it will, well and good," said don quixote, "andlet us see if rocinante can go;" and again he spurred him, and againrocinante made jumps and remained where he was, so well tied was he. just then, whether it was the cold of the morning that was nowapproaching, or that he had eaten somethingxative at supper, orthat it was only natural £¨as is most likely£©£¬ sancho felt a desireto do what no one could do for him; but so great was the fear that hadprated his heart, he dared not separate himself from his master byas much as the ck of his nail; to escape doing what he wantedwas, however, also impossible; so what he did for peaces sake wasto remove his right hand, which held the back of the saddle, andwith it to untie gently and silently the running string which aloneheld up his breeches, so that on loosening it they at once fell downround his feet like fetters; he then raised his shirt as well as hecould and bared his hind quarters, no slim ones. but, thisapliÉäd, which he fancied was all he had to do to get out of thisterrible strait and embarrassment, another still greater difficultypresented itself, for it seemed to him impossible to relieve himselfwithout making some noise, and he ground his teeth and squeezed hisshoulders together, holding his breath as much as he could; but inspite of his precautions he was unlucky enough after all to make alittle noise, very different from that which was causing him so muchfear. don quixote, hearing it, said, "what noise is that, sancho?" "i dont know, senor," said he; "it must be something new, foradventures and misadventures never begin with a trifle." once morehe tried his luck, and seeded so well, that without any furthernoise or disturbance he found himself relieved of the burden thathad given him so much difort. but as don quixotes sense ofsmell was as acute as his hearing, and as sancho was so closely linkedwith him that the fumes rose almost in a straight line, it could notbe but that some should reach his nose, and as soon as they did hecame to its relief bypressing it between his fingers, saying ina rather snuffing tone, "sancho, it strikes me thou art in greatfear." "i am," answered sancho; "but how does your worship perceive itnow more than ever?" "because just now thou smellest stronger than ever, and not ofambergris," answered don quixote. "very likely," said sancho, "but thats not my fault, but yourworships, for leading me about at unseasonable hours and at suchunwonted paces." "then go back three or four, my friend," said don quixote, all thetime with his fingers to his nose; "and for the future pay moreattention to thy person and to what thou owest to mine; for it is mygreat familiarity with thee that has bred this contempt." "ill bet," replied sancho, "that your worship thinks i have donesomething i ought not with my person." "it makes it worse to stir it, friend sancho," returned don quixote. with this and other talk of the same sort master and man passedthe night, till sancho, perceiving that daybreak wasing onapace, very cautiously untied rocinante and tied up his breeches. assoon as rocinante found himself free, though by nature he was not atall mettlesome, he seemed to feel lively and began pawing- for as tocapering, begging his pardon, he knew not what it meant. donquixote, then, observing that rocinante could move, took it as agood sign and a signal that he should attempt the dread adventure.by this time day had fully broken and everything showed distinctly,and don quixote saw that he was among some tall trees, chestnuts,which cast a very deep shade; he perceived likewise that the soundof the strokes did not cease, but could not discover what caused it,and so without any further dy he let rocinante feel the spur, andonce more taking leave of sancho, he told him to wait for him therethree days at most, as he had said before, and if he should not havereturned by that time, he might feel sure it had been gods willthat he should end his days in that perilous adventure. he againrepeated the message andmission with which he was to go on hisbehalf to hisdy dulcinea, and said he was not to be uneasy as tothe payment of his services, for before leaving home he had made hiswill, in which he would find himself fully rpensed in the matterof wages in due proportion to the time he had served; but if goddelivered him safe, sound, and unhurt out of that danger, he mightlook upon the promised ind as much more than certain. sanchobegan to weep afresh on again hearing the affecting words of hisgood master, and resolved to stay with him until the final issue andend of the business. from these tears and this honourable resolve ofsancho panzas the author of this history infers that he must havebeen of good birth and at least an old christian; and the feeling hedisyed touched his but not so much as to make him show anyweakness; on the contrary, hiding what he felt as well as he could, hebegan to move towards that quarter whence the sound of the water andof the strokes seemed toe. sancho followed him on foot, leading by the halter, as his customwas, his ass, his constantrade in prosperity or adversity; andadvancing some distance through the shady chestnut trees they cameupon a little meadow at the foot of some high rocks, down which amighty rush of water flung itself. at the foot of the rocks weresome rudely constructed houses looking more like ruins than houses,from among which came, they perceived, the din and tter of blows,which still continued without intermission. rocinante took fright atthe noise of the water and of the blows, but quieting him donquixote advanced step by step towards the houses,mending himselfwith all his heart to hisdy, imploring her support in that dreadpass and enterprise, and on the waymending himself to god, too,not to forget him. sancho who never quitted his side, stretched hisneck as far as he could and peered between the legs of rocinante tosee if he could now discover what it was that caused him such fear andapprehension. they went it might be a hundred paces farther, when onturning a corner the true cause, beyond the possibility of anymistake, of that dread-sounding and to them awe-inspiring noise thathad kept them all the night in such fear and perplexity, appearedin and obvious; and it was £¨if, reader, thou art not disgustedand disappointed£© six fulling hammers which by their alternate strokesmade all the din. when don quixote perceived what it was, he was struck dumb and rigidfrom head to foot. sancho nced at him and saw him with his headbent down upon his breast in manifest mortification; and don quixotenced at sancho and saw him with his cheeks puffed out and his mouthfull ofughter, and evidently ready to explode with it, and in spiteof his vexation he could not helpughing at the sight of him; andwhen sancho saw his master begin he let go so heartily that he hadto hold his sides with both hands to keep himself from bursting witughter. four times he stopped, and as many times did hisughterbreak out afresh with the same violence as at first, whereat donquixote grew furious, above all when he heard him say mockingly, "thoumust know, friend sancho, that of heavens will i was born in this ouriron age to revive in it the golden or age of gold; i am he for whomare reserved perils, mighty achievements, valiant deeds;" and herehe went on repeating the words that don quixote uttered the first timethey heard the awful strokes. don quixote, then, seeing that sancho was turning him into ridicule,was so mortified and vexed that he lifted up his pike and smote himtwo such blows that if, instead of catching them on his shoulders,he had caught them on his head there would have been no wages topay, unless indeed to his heirs. sancho seeing that he was gettingan awkward return in earnest for his jest, and fearing his mastermight carry it still further, said to him very humbly, "calm yourself,sir, for by god i am only joking."
µÚ30Ò³ "well, then, if you are joking i am not," replied don quixote. "lookhere, my lively gentleman, if these, instead of being fulling hammers,had been some perilous adventure, have i not, think you, shown thecourage required for the attempt and achievement? am i, per²ånce,being, as i am, a gentleman, bound to know and distinguish soundsand tell whether theye from fulling mills or not; and that, whenperhaps, as is the case, i have never in my life seen any as you have,low boor as you are, that have been born and bred among them? but turnme these six hammers into six giants, and bring them to beard me,one by one or all together, and if i do not knock them head overheels, then make what mockery you like of me." "no more of that, senor," returned sancho; "i own i went a littletoo far with the joke. but tell me, your worship, now that peace ismade between us £¨and may god bring you out of all the adventuresthat may befall you as safe and sound as he has brought you out ofthis one£©£¬ was it not a thing tough at, and is it not a good story,the great fear we were in?- at least that i was in; for as to yourworship i see now that you neither know nor understand what eitherfear or dismay is." "i do not deny," said don quixote, "that what happened to us maybe worthughing at, but it is not worth making a story about, for itis not everyone that is shrewd enough to hit the right point of athing." "at any rate," said sancho, "your worship knew how to hit theright point with your pike, aiming at my head and hitting me on theshoulders, thanks be to god and my own smartness in dodging it. butlet that pass; all wille out in the scouring; for i have heard sayhe loves thee well that makes thee weep; and moreover that it is theway with great lords after any hard words they give a servant togive him a pair of breeches; though i do not know what they give afterblows, unless it be that knights-errant after blows give inds, orkingdoms on the maind." "it may be on the dice," said don quixote, "that all thou sayestwille true; overlook the past, for thou art shrewd enough toknow that our first movements are not in our own control; and hing for the future bear in mind, that thou curb and restrain thyloquacity in mypany; for in all the books of chivalry that ihave read, and they are innumerable, i never met with a squire whotalked so much to his lord as thou dost to thine; and in fact i feelit to be a great fault of thine and of mine: of thine, that thouhast so little respect for me; of mine, that i do not make myself morerespected. there was gandalin, the squire of amadis of gaul, thatwas count of the ins firme, and we read of him that he alwaysaddressed his lord with his cap in his hand, his head bowed down andhis body bent double, more turquesco. and then, what shall we say ofgasabal, the squire of gor, who was so silent that in order toindicate to us the greatness of his marvellous taciturnity his name isonly once mentioned in the whole of that history, as long as it istruthful? from all i have said thou wilt gather, sancho, that theremust be a difference between master and man, between lord anckey, between knight and squire: so that from this day forward inour intercourse we must observe more respect and take lessliberties, for in whatever way i may be provoked with you it will bebad for the pitcher. the favours and benefits that i have promised youwille in due time, and if they do not your wages at least will notbe lost, as i have already told you." "all that your worship says is very well," said sancho, "but ishould like to know £¨in case the time of favours should note,and it might be necessary to fall back upon wages£© how much did thesquire of a knight-errant get in those days, and did they agree by themonth, or by the day like bricyers?" "i do not believe," replied don quixote, "that such squires wereever on wages, but were dependent on favour; and if i have nowmentioned thine in the sealed will i have left at home, it was witha view to what may happen; for as yet i know not how chivalry willturn out in these wretched times of ours, and i do not wish my soul tosuffer for trifles in the other world; for i would have thee know,sancho, that in this there is no condition more hazardous than that ofadventurers." "that is true," said sancho, "since the mere noise of the hammers ofa fulling mill can disturb and disquiet the heart of such a valianterrant adventurer as your worship; but you may be sure i will not openmy lips henceforward to make light of anything of your worships,but only to honour you as my master and natural lord." "by so doing," replied don quixote, "shalt thou live long on theface of the earth; for next to parents, masters are to be respected asthough they were parents." ²åpter xxi which treats of the exalted adventure and rich prize of mambrinoÉälmet, together with other things that happened to our invincibleknight it now began to rain a little, and sancho was for going into thefulling mills, but don quixote had taken such an abhorrence to them onount of thete joke that he would not enter them on anyount; so turning aside to right they came upon another road,different from that which they had taken the night before. shortlyafterwards don quixote perceived a man on horseback who wore on hiÉäad something that shone like gold, and the moment he saw him heturned to sancho and said: "i think, sancho, there is no proverb that is not true, all beingmaxims drawn from experience itself, the mother of all the sciences,especially that one that says, where one door shuts, anotheropens. i say so because ifst night fortune shut the door of theadventure we were looking for against us, cheating us with the fullingmills, it now opens wide another one for another better and morecertain adventure, and if i do not contrive to enter it, it will be myown fault, and i cannoty it to my ignorance of fulling mills, orthe darkness of the night. i say this because, if i mistake not, theres towards us one who wears on his head the helmet of mambrino,concerning which i took the oath thou rememberest." "mind what you say, your worship, and still more what you do,"said sancho, "for i dont want any more fulling mills to finish offfulling and knocking our senses out." "the devil take thee, man," said don quixote; "what has a helmetto do with fulling mills?" "i dont know," replied sancho, "but, faith, if i might speak as iused, perhaps i could give such reasons that your worship would seeyou were mistaken in what you say." "how can i be mistaken in what i say, unbelieving traitor?" returneddon quixote; "tell me, seest thou not yonder knighting towardsus on a dappled grey steed, who has upon his head a helmet of gold?" "what i see and make out," answered sancho, "is only a man on a greyass like my own, who has something that shines on his head." "well, that is the helmet of mambrino," said don quixote; "standto one side and leave me alone with him; thou shalt see how, withoutsaying a word, to save time, i shall bring this adventure to anissue and possess myself of the helmet i have so longed for." "i will take care to stand aside," said sancho; "but god grant, isay once more, that it may be marjoram and not fulling mills." "i have told thee, brother, on no ount to mention those fullingmills to me again," said don quixote, "or i vow- and i say no more-ill full the soul out of you." sancho held his peace in dread lest his master should carry outthe vow he had hurled like a bowl at him. the fact of the matter as regards the helmet, steed, and knight thatdon quixote saw, was this. in that neighbourhood there were twoviges, one of them so small that it had neither apothecarys shopnor barber, which the other that was close to it had, so the barber oftherger served the smaller, and in it there was a sick man whorequired to be bled and another man who wanted to be shaved, and onthis errand the barber was going, carrying with him a brass basin; butas luck would have it, as he was on the way it began to rain, andnot to spoil his hat, which probably was a new one, he put the basinon his head, and being clean it glittered at half a leagues distance.he rode upon a grey ass, as sancho said, and this was what made itseem to don quixote to be a dapple-grey steed and a knight and agolden helmet; for everything he saw he made to fall in with his crazychivalry and ill-errant notions; and when he saw the poor knightdraw near, without entering into any parley with him, at rocinantestop speed he bore down upon him with the pike pointed low, fullydetermined to run him through and through, and as he reached him,without checking the fury of his ²årge, he cried to him: "defend thyself, miserable being, or yield me of thine own ordthat which is so reasonably my due." the barber, who without any expectation or apprehension of it sawthis apparitioning down upon him, had no other way of savinghimself from the stroke of thence but to let himself fall off hisass; and no sooner had he touched the ground than he sprang up morenimbly than a deer and sped away across the in faster than thewind. he left the basin on the ground, with which don quixote contentedhimself, saying that the pagan had shown his discretion and imitatedthe beaver, which finding itself pressed by the hunters bites and cutsoff with its teeth that for which, by its natural instinct, it knowsit is pursued.
µÚ31Ò³ he told sancho to pick up the helmet, and he taking it in hishands said: "by god the basin is a good one, and worth a real of eight if itis worth a maravedis," and handed it to his master, who immediatelyput it on his head, turning it round, now this way, now that, insearch of fitment, and not finding it he said, "clearly the pagan towhose measure this famous head-piece was first forged must have hada veryrge head; but the worst of it is half of it is wanting." when sancho heard him call the basin a headpiece he was unable torestrain hisughter, but remembering his masters wrath he checkedhimself in the midst of it. "what art thouughing at, sancho?" said don quixote. "i amughing," said he, "to think of the great head the pagan musthave had who owned this helmet, for it looks exactly like a regrbarbers basin." "dost thou know what i suspect, sancho?" said don quixote; "thatthis wonderful piece of this en²ånted helmet must by some strangeident havee into the hands of some one who was unable torecognise or realise its value, and who, not knowing what he did,and seeing it to be of the purest gold, must have melted down one halffor the sake of what it might be worth, and of the other made thiswhich is like a barbers basin as thou sayest; but be it as it may, tome who recognise it, its transformation makes no difference, for iwill set it to rights at the first vige where there is acksmith, and in such style that that helmet the god of smithiesforged for the god of battles shall not surpass it or evene upto it; and in the meantime i will wear it as well as i can, forsomething is better than nothing; all the more as it will be quiteenough to protect me from any ²ånce blow of a stone." "that is," said sancho, "if it is not shot with a sling as they werein the battle of the two armies, when they signed the cross on yourworships grinders and smaÉäd the sk with that blessed draughtthat made me vomit my bowels up." "it does not grieve me much to have lost it," said don quixote, "forthou knowest, sancho, that i have the receipt in my memory." "so have i," answered sancho, "but if ever i make it, or try itagain as long as i live, may this be myst hour; moreover, i have nointention of putting myself in the way of wanting it, for i mean, withall my five senses, to keep myself from being wounded or from woundinganyone: as to being nketed again i say nothing, for it is hard toprevent mishaps of that sort, and if theye there is nothing for itbut to squeeze our shoulders together, hold our breath, shut our eyes,and let ourselves go where luck and the nket may send us." "thou art a bad christian, sancho," said don quixote on hearingthis, "for once an injury has been done thee thou never forgettest it:but know that it is the part of noble and generous hearts not toattach importance to trifles. whatme leg hast thou got by it,what broken rib, what cracked head, that thou canst not forget thatjest? for jest and sport it was, properly regarded, and had i not seenit in that light i would have returned and done more mischief inrevenging thee than the greeks did for the rape of helen, who, ifÉä were alive now, or if my dulcinea had lived then, might dependupon it Éä would not be so famous for her beauty as Éä is;" and herehe heaved a sigh and sent it aloft; and said sancho, "let it passfor a jest as it cannot be revenged in earnest, but i know what sortof jest and earnest it was, and i know it will never be rubbed outof my memory any more than off my shoulders. but putting that aside,will your worship tell me what are we to do with this dapple-greysteed that looks like a grey ass, which that martino that your worshipoverthrew has left deserted here? for, from the way he took to hiÉäels and bolted, he is not likely ever toe back for it; and by mybeard but the grey is a good one." "i have never been in the habit," said don quixote, "of taking spoilof those whom i vanquish, nor is it the practice of chivalry to takeaway their horses and leave them to go on foot, unless indeed it bethat the victor have lost his own in thebat, in which case it iwful to take that of the vanquiÉäd as a thing won inwful war;therefore, sancho, leave this horse, or ass, or whatever thou wilthave it to be; for when its owner sees us gone hence he wille backfor it." "god knows i should like to take it," returned sancho, "or atleast to ²ånge it for my own, which does not seem to me as good aone: verily thews of chivalry are strict, since they cannot bestretched to let one ass be ²ånged for another; i should like to knowif i might at least ²ånge trappings." "on that head i am not quite certain," answered don quixote, "andthe matter being doubtful, pending better information, i say thoumayest ²ånge them, if so be thou hast urgent need of them." "so urgent is it," answered sancho, "that if they were for my ownperson i could not want them more;" and forthwith, fortified by thislicence, he effected the mutatio capparum, rigging out his beast tothe ny-nines and making quite another thing of it. this done, theybroke their fast on the remains of the spoils of war plundered fromthe sumpter mule, and drank of the brook that flowed from thefulling mills, without casting a look in that direction, in suchloathing did they hold them for the rm they had caused them; and,all anger and gloom removed, they mounted and, without taking anyfixed road £¨not to fix upon any being the proper thing for trueknights-errant£©£¬ they set out, guided by rocinantes will, whichcarried along with it that of his master, not to say that of theass, which always followed him wherever he led, lovingly and sociably;nevertheless they returned to the high road, and pursued it at aventure without any other aim. as they went along, then, in this way sancho said to his master,"senor, would your worship give me leave to speak a little to you? forsince youid that hard injunction of silence on me several thingshave gone to rot in my stomach, and i have now just one on the tipof my tongue that i dont want to be spoiled." "say, on, sancho," said don quixote, "and be brief in thy discourse,for there is no pleasure in one that is long." "well then, senor," returned sancho, "i say that for some dayspast i have been considering how little is got or gained by going insearch of these adventures that your worship seeks in these wildsand cross-roads, where, even if the most perilous are victoriouslyachieved, there is no one to see or know of them, and so they mustbe left untold for ever, to the loss of your worships object andthe credit they deserve; therefore it seems to me it would be better£¨saving your worships better judgment£© if we were to go and servesome emperor or other great prince who may have some war on hand, inwhose service your worship may prove the worth of your person, yourgreat might, and greater understanding, on perceiving which the lordin whose service we may be will perforce have to reward us, eaording to his merits; and there you will not be at a loss forsome one to set down your achievements in writing so as to preservetheir memory for ever. of my own i say nothing, as they will not gobeyond squirely limits, though i make bold to say that, if it be thepractice in chivalry to write the achievements of squires, i thinkmine must not be left out." "thou speakest not amiss, sancho," answered don quixote, "but beforethat point is reached it is requisite to roam the world, as it were onprobation, seeking adventures, in order that, by achieving some,name and fame may be acquired, such that when he betakes himself tothe court of some great monarch the knight may be already known by hisdeeds, and that the boys, the instant they see him enter the gate ofthe city, may all follow him and surround him, crying, this is theknight of the sun-or the serpent, or any other title under which hemay have achieved great deeds. this, they will say, is he whovanquiÉäd in singlebat the gigantic brocabruno of mightystrength; he who delivered the great mameluke of persia out of thelong en²åntment under which he had been for almost nine hundredyears. so from one to another they will go proiming hisachievements; and presently at the tumult of the boys and the othersthe king of that kingdom will appear at the windows of his royalpce, and as soon as he beholds the knight, recognising him by hisarms and the device on his shield, he will as a matter of coursesay, what ho! forth all ye, the knights of my court, to receive theflower of chivalry whoeth hither! at whichmand all will issueforth, and he himself, advancing half-way down the stairs, willembrace him closely, and salute him, kissing him on the cheek, andwill then lead him to the queens ²åmber, where the knight willfind her with the princess her daughter, who will be one of the mostbeautiful and apliÉäd damsels that could with the utmost pains bediscovered anywhere in the known world. straightway it wille topass that Éä will fix her eyes upon the knight and he his upon her,and each will seem to the other something more divine than human, and,without knowing how or why they will be taken and entangled in theinextricable toils of love, and sorely distressed in their heartsnot to see any way of making their pains and sufferings known byspeech. thence they will lead him, no doubt, to some richly adorned²åmber of the pce, where, having removed his armour, they willbring him a rich mantle of scarlet wherewith to robe himself, and ifhe looked noble in his armour he will look still more so in a doublet.when nightes he will sup with the king, queen, and princess; andall the time he will never take his eyes off her, stealing stealthynces, unnoticed by those present, and Éä will do the same, andwith equal cautiousness, being, as i have said, a damsel of greatdiscretion. the tables being removed, suddenly through the door of thehall there will enter a hideous and diminutive dwarf followed by afair dame, between two giants, whoes with a certain adventure, thework of an ancient sage; and he who shall achieve it shall be deemedthe best knight in the world.
µÚ32Ò³ "the king will thenmand all those present to essay it, andnone will bring it to an end and conclusion save the strangerknight, to the great enhancement of his fame, whereat the princesswill be overjoyed and will esteem herself happy and fortunate inhaving fixed and ced her thoughts so high. and the best of it isthat this king, or prince, or whatever he is, is engaged in a verybitter war with another as powerful as himself, and the strangerknight, after having been some days at his court, requests leavefrom him to go and serve him in the said war. the king will grant itvery readily, and the knight will courteously kiss his hands for thefavour done to him; and that night he will take leave of hisdythe princess at the grating of the ²åmber where Éä sleeps, whichlooks upon a garden, and at which he has already many timesconversed with her, the go-between and confidante in the matterbeing a damsel much trusted by the princess. he will sigh, Éä willswoon, the damsel will fetch water, much distressed because morningapproaches, and for the honour of herdy he would not that they werediscovered; atst the princess wille to herself and will presenther white hands through the grating to the knight, who will kissthem a thousand and a thousand times, bathing them with his tears.it will be arranged between them how they are to inform each otherof their good or evil fortunes, and the princess will entreat him tomake his absence as short as possible, which he will promise to dowith many oaths; once more he kisses her hands, and takes his leave insuch grief that he is well-nigh ready to die. he betakes him thence tohis ²åmber, flings himself on his bed, cannot sleep for sorrow atparting, rises early in the morning, goes to take leave of the king,queen, and princess, and, as he takes his leave of the pair, it istold him that the princess is indisposed and cannot receive a visit;the knight thinks it is from grief at his departure, his heart ispierced, and he is hardly able to keep from showing his pain. theconfidante is present, observes all, goes to tell her mistress, wholistens with tears and says that one of her greatest distresses is notknowing who this knight is, and whether he is of kingly lineage ornot; the damsel assures her that so much courtesy, gentleness, andgantry of bearing as her knight possesses could not exist in anysave one who was royal and illustrious; her anxiety is thusrelieved, and Éä strives to be of good cheer lest Éä should excitesuspicion in her parents, and at the end of two days Éä appears inpublic. meanwhile the knight has taken his departure; he fights in thewar, conquers the kings enemy, wins many cities, triumphs in manybattles, returns to the court, sees hisdy where he was wont tosee her, and it is agreed that he shall demand her in marriage ofher parents as the reward of his services; the king is unwilling togive her, as he knows not who he is, but nevertheless, whether carriedoff or in whatever other way it may be, the princesses to be hisbride, and her fatheres to regard it as very good fortune; forit so happens that this knight is proved to be the son of a valiantking of some kingdom, i know not what, for i fancy it is not likely tobe on the map. the father dies, the princess inherits, and in twowords the knight bes king. and herees in at once thebestowal of rewards upon his squire and all who have aided him inrising to so exalted a rank. he marries his squire to a damsel ofthe princesss, who will be, no doubt, the one who was confidante intheir amour, and is daughter of a very great duke." "thats what i want, and no mistake about it!" said sancho."thats what im waiting for; for all this, word for word, is in storefor your worship under the title of the knight of the ruefulcountenance." "thou needst not doubt it, sancho," replied don quixote, "for in thesame manner, and by the same steps as i have described here,knights-errant rise and have risen to be kings and emperors; all wewant now is to find out what king, christian or pagan, is at war andhas a beautiful daughter; but there will be time enough to think ofthat, for, as i have told thee, fame must be won in other quartersbefore repairing to the court. there is another thing, too, that iswanting; for supposing we find a king who is at war and has abeautiful daughter, and that i have won incredible fame throughout theuniverse, i know not how it can be made out that i am of royallineage, or even second cousin to an emperor; for the king will not bewilling to give me his daughter in marriage unless he is firstthoroughly satisfied on this point, however much my famous deeds maydeserve it; so that by this deficiency i fear i shall lose what my armhas fairly earned. true it is i am a gentleman of known house, ofestate and property, and entitled to the five hundred sueldos mulct;and it may be that the sage who shall write my history will so clearup my ancestry and pedigree that i may find myself fifth or sixth indescent from a king; for i would have thee know, sancho, that thereare two kinds of lineages in the world; some there be tracing andderiving their descent from kings and princes, whom time has reducedlittle by little until they end in a point like a pyramid upside down;and others who spring from themon herd and go on rising step bystep until theye to be great lords; so that the difference is thatthe one were what they no longer are, and the others are what theyformerly were not. and i may be of such that after investigation myorigin may prove great and famous, with which the king, myfather-inw that is to be, ought to be satisfied; and should henot be, the princess will so love me that even though Éä well knew meto be the son of a water-carrier, Éä will take me for her lord andhusband in spite of her father; if not, then ites to seizing herand carrying her off where i please; for time or death will put an endto the wrath of her parents." "ites to this, too," said sancho, "what some naughty people say,never ask as a favour what thou canst take by force; though it wouldfit better to say, a clear escape is better than good mens prayers.i say so because if my lord the king, your worships father-inw,will not condescend to give you mydy the princess, there is nothingfor it but, as your worship says, to seize her and transport her.but the mischief is that until peace is made and youe into thepeaceful enjoyment of your kingdom, the poor squire is famishing asfar as rewards go, unless it be that the confidante damsel that isto be his wifees with the princess, and that with her he tidesover his bad luck until heaven otherwise orders things; for hismaster, i suppose, may as well give her to him at once for awfulwife." "nobody can object to that," said don quixote. "then since that may be," said sancho, "there is nothing for itbut tomend ourselves to god, and let fortune take what course itwill." "god guide it ording to my wiÉäs and thy wants," said donquixote, "and mean be he who thinks himself mean." "in gods name let him be so," said sancho: "i am an oldchristian, and to fit me for a count thats enough." "and more than enough for thee," said don quixote; "and even wertthou not, it would make no difference, because i being the king caneasily give thee nobility without pur²åse or service rendered bythee, for when i make thee a count, then thou art at once a gentleman;and they may say what they will, but by my faith they will have tocall thee your lordship, whether they like it or not." "not a doubt of it; and ill know how to support the tittle," saidsancho. "title thou shouldst say, not tittle," said his master. "so be it," answered sancho. "i say i will know how to behave, foronce in my life i was beadle of a brotherhood, and the beadles gownsat so well on me that all said i looked as if i was to be stewardof the same brotherhood. what will it be, then, when i put a dukesrobe on my back, or dress myself in gold and pearls like a count? ibelieve theylle a hundred leagues to see me." "thou wilt look well," said don quixote, "but thou must shave thybeard often, for thou hast it so thick and rough and unkempt, thatif thou dost not shave it every second day at least, they will seewhat thou art at the distance of a musket shot." "what more will it be," said sancho, "than having a barber, andkeeping him at wages in the house? and even if it be necessary, i willmake him go behind me like a noblemans equerry." "why, how dost thou know that noblemen have equerries behindthem?" asked don quixote. "i will tell you," answered sancho. "years ago i was for a monthat the capital and there i saw taking the air a very small gentlemanwho they said was a very great man, and a man following him onhorseback in every turn he took, just as if he was his tail. i askedwhy this man did not join the other man, instead of always goingbehind him; they answered me that he was his equerry, and that itwas the custom with nobles to have such persons behind them, andever since then i know it, for i have never forgotten it." "thou art right," said don quixote, "and in the same way thou mayestcarry thy barber with thee, for customs did note into use alltogether, nor were they all invented at once, and thou mayest be thefirst count to have a barber to follow him; and, indeed, shaving onesbeard is a greater trust than saddling ones horse."
µÚ33Ò³ "let the barber business be my look-out," said sancho; "and yourworships be it to strive to be a king, and make me a count." "so it shall be," answered don quixote, and raising his eyes hesaw what will be told in the following ²åpter. ²åpter xxii of the freedom don quixote conferred on several unfortunates whoagainst their will were being carried where they had no wish to go cide hamete benengeli, the arab and manchegan author, rtes inthis most grave, high-sounding, minute, delightful, and originalhistory that after the discussion between the famous don quixote ofman²å and his squire sancho panza which is set down at the end of²åpter twenty-one, don quixote raised his eyes and sawing alongthe road he was following some dozen men on foot strung together bythe neck, like beads, on a great iron ²åin, and all with manacleson their hands. with them there came also two men on horseback and twoon foot; those on horseback with wheel-lock muskets, those on footwith javelins and swords, and as soon as sancho saw them he said: "that is a ²åin of galley ves, on the way to the galleys byforce of the kings orders." "how by force?" asked don quixote; "is it possible that the kinguses force against anyone?" "i do not say that," answered sancho, "but that these are peoplecondemned for their crimes to serve by force in the kings galleys." "in fact," replied don quixote, "however it may be, these people aregoing where they are taking them by force, and not of their own will." "just so," said sancho. "then if so," said don quixote, "here is a case for the exerciseof my office, to put down force and to sour and help the wretched." "recollect, your worship," said sancho, "justice, which is theking himself, is not using force or doing wrong to such persons, butpunishing them for their crimes." the ²åin of galley ves had by this timee up, and don quixotein very courteousnguage asked those who were in custody of it to begood enough to tell him the reason or reasons for which they wereconducting these people in this manner. one of the guards on horsebackanswered that they were galley ves belonging to his majesty, thatthey were going to the galleys, and that was all that was to be saidand all he had any business to know. "nevertheless," replied don quixote, "i should like to know fromeach of them separately the reason of his misfortune;" to this headded more to the same effect to induce them to tell him what hewanted so civilly that the other mounted guard said to him: "though we have here the register and certificate of the sentence ofevery one of these wretches, this is no time to take them out orread them;e and ask themselves; they can tell if they choose,and they will, for these fellows take a pleasure in doing andtalking about rascalities." with this permission, which don quixote would have taken even hadthey not granted it, he approached the ²åin and asked the first forwhat offences he was now in such a sorry case. he made answer that it was for being a lover. "for that only?" replied don quixote; "why, if for being lovers theysend people to the galleys i might have been rowing in them long ago." "the love is not the sort your worship is thinking of," said thegalley ve; "mine was that i loved a waÉärwomans basket of cleanlinen so well, and held it so close in my embrace, that if the armof thew had not forced it from me, i should never have let it go ofmy own will to this moment; i was caught in the act, there was noasion for torture, the case was settled, they treated me to ahundredÉäs on the back, and three years of gurapas besides, andthat was the end of it." "what are gurapas?" asked don quixote. "gurapas are galleys," answered the galley ve, who was a youngman of about four-and-twenty, and said he was a native of piedrahita. don quixote asked the same question of the second, who made noreply, so downcast and mncholy was he; but the first answered forhim, and said, "he, sir, goes as a canary, i mean as a musician anda singer." "what!" said don quixote, "for being musicians and singers arepeople sent to the galleys too?" "yes, sir," answered the galley ve, "for there is nothing worsethan singing under suffering." "on the contrary, i have heard say," said don quixote, "that hewho sings scares away his woes." "here it is the reverse," said the galley ve; "for he who singsonce weeps all his life." "i do not understand it," said don quixote; but one of the guardssaid to him, "sir, to sing under suffering means with the non sanctafraternity to confess under torture; they put this sinner to thetorture and he confessed his crime, which was being a cuatrero, thatis a cattle-stealer, and on his confession they sentenced him to sixyears in the galleys, besides two bundredÉäs that he has alreadyhad on the back; and he is always dejected and downcast because theother thieves that were left behind and that march here ill-treat, andsnub, and jeer, and despise him for confessing and not having spiritenough to say nay; for, say they, nay has no more letters in it thanyea, and a culprit is well off when life or death with him dependson his own tongue and not on that of witnesses or evidence; and tomy thinking they are not very far out." "and i think so too," answered don quixote; then passing on to thethird he asked him what he had asked the others, and the mananswered very readily and unconcernedly, "i am going for five years totheirdyships the gurapas for the want of ten ducats." "i will give twenty with pleasure to get you out of that trouble,"said don quixote. "that," said the galley ve, "is like a man having money at seawhen he is dying of hunger and has no way of buying what he wants; isay so because if at the right time i had had those twenty ducats thatyour worship now offers me, i would have greased the notarys penand freÉäned up the attorneys wit with them, so that to-day i shouldbe in the middle of the za of the zocodover at toledo, and not onthis road coupled like a greyhound. but god is great; patience- there,thats enough of it." don quixote passed on to the fourth, a man of venerable aspectwith a white beard falling below his breast, who on hearing himselfasked the reason of his being there began to weep without answeringa word, but the fifth acted as his tongue and said, "this worthy manis going to the galleys for four years, after having gone the roundsin ceremony and on horseback." "that means," said sancho panza, "as i take it, to have beenexposed to shame in public." "just so," replied the galley ve, "and the offence for which theygave him that punishment was having been an ear-broker, naybody-broker; i mean, in short, that this gentleman goes as a pimp, andfor having besides a certain touch of the sorcerer about him." "if that touch had not been thrown in," said don quixote, "bewould not deserve, for mere pimping, to row in the galleys, but rathertomand and be admiral of them; for the office of pimp is noordinary one, being the office of persons of discretion, one verynecessary in a well-ordered state, and only to be exercised by personsof good birth; nay, there ought to be an inspector and overseer ofthem, as in other offices, and recognised number, as with thebrokers on ²ånge; in this way many of the evils would be avoidedwhich are caused by this office and calling being in the hands ofstupid and ignorant people, such as women more or less silly, andpages and jesters of little standing and experience, who on the mosturgent asions, and when ingenuity of contrivance is needed, let thecrumbs freeze on the way to their mouths, and know not which istheir right hand. i should like to go farther, and give reasons toshow that it is advisable to choose those who are to hold so necessaryan office in the state, but this is not the fit ce for it; some dayi will expound the matter to some one able to see to and rectify it;all i say now is, that the additional fact of his being a sorcerer hasremoved the sorrow it gave me to see these white hairs and thisvenerable countenance in so painful a position on ount of his beinga pimp; though i know well there are no sorceries in the world thatcan move orpel the will as some simple folk fancy, for our will isfree, nor is there herb or ²årm that can force it. all that certainsilly women and quacks do is to turn men mad with potions and poisons,pretending that they have power to cause love, for, as i say, it is animpossibility topel the will." "it is true," said the good old man, "and indeed, sir, as far as the²årge of sorcery goes i was not guilty; as to that of being a pimpi cannot deny it; but i never thought i was doing any harm by it,for my only object was that all the world should enjoy itself and livein peace and quiet, without quarrels or troubles; but my goodintentions were unavailing to save me from going where i neverexpect toe back from, with this weight of years upon me and aurinary ailment that never gives me a moments ease;" and again hefell to weeping as before, and suchpassion did sancho feel for himthat he took out a real of four from his bosom and gave it to him inalms.
µÚ34Ò³ don quixote went on and asked another what his crime was, and theman answered with no less but rather much more sprightliness thanthest one. "i am here because i carried the joke too far with a couple ofcousins of mine, and with a couple of other cousins who were none ofmine; in short, i carried the joke so far with them all that itended in such aplicated increase of kindred that no ountantcould make it clear: it was all proved against me, i got no favour,i had no money, i was near having my neck stretched, they sentenced meto the galleys for six years, i epted my fate, it is the punishmentof my fault; i am a young man; let life onlyst, and with that allwille right. if you, sir, have anything wherewith to help thepoor, god will repay it to you in heaven, and we on earth will takecare in our petitions to him to pray for the life and health of yourworship, that they may be as long and as good as your amiableappearance deserves." this one was in the dress of a student, and one of the guards saidhe was a great talker and a very eleganttin schr. behind all these there came a man of thirty, a very personablefellow, except that when he looked, his eyes turned in a little owards the other. he was bound differently from the rest, for hehad to his leg a ²åin so long that it was wound all round his body,and two rings on his neck, one attached to the ²åin, the other towhat they call a "keep-friend" or "friends foot," from which hung twoirons reaching to his waist with two manacles fixed to them in whichhis hands were secured by a big padlock, so that he could neitherraise his hands to his mouth nor lower his head to his hands. donquixote asked why this man carried so many more ²åins than theothers. the guard replied that it was because he alone hadmittedmore crimes than all the rest put together, and was so daring and su²å viin, that though they marched him in that fashion they did notfeel sure of him, but were in dread of his making his escape. "what crimes can he havemitted," said don quixote, "if they havenot deserved a heavier punishment than being sent to the galleys?" "he goes for ten years," replied the guard, "which is the same thingas civil death, and all that need be said is that this good fellowis the famous gines de pasamonte, otherwise called ginesillo deparapi." "gently, senormissary," said the galley ve at this, "let ushave no fiÐÔ of names or surnames; my name is gines, notginesillo, and my family name is pasamonte, not parapi as yousay; let each one mind his own business, and he will be doing enough." "speak with less impertinence, master thief of extra measure,"replied themissary, "if you dont want me to make you hold yourtongue in spite of your teeth." "it is easy to see," returned the galley ve, "that man goes asgod pleases, but some one shall know some day whether i am calledginesillo de parapi or not." "dont they call you so, you liar?" said the guard. "they do," returned gines, "but i will make them give over callingme so, or i will be shaved, where, i only say behind my teeth. if you,sir, have anything to give us, give it to us at once, and god speedyou, for you are bing tiresome with all this inquisitiveness aboutthe lives of others; if you want to know about mine, let me tell you iam gines de pasamonte, whose life is written by these fingers." "he says true," said themissary, "for he has himself written hisstory as grand as you please, and has left the book in the prison inpawn for two hundred reals." "and i mean to take it out of pawn," said gines, "though it werein for two hundred ducats." "is it so good?" said don quixote. "so good is it," replied gines, "that a fig forzarillo detormes, and all of that kind that have been written, or shall bewrittenpared with it: all i will say about it is that it dealswith facts, and facts so neat and diverting that no lies could matchthem." "and how is the book entitled?" asked don quixote. "the life of gines de pasamonte," replied the subject of it. "and is it finiÉäd?" asked don quixote. "how can it be finiÉäd," said the other, "when my life is not yetfiniÉäd? all that is written is from my birth down to the pointwhen they sent me to the galleys thisst time." "then you have been there before?" said don quixote. "in the service of god and the king i have been there for four yearsbefore now, and i know by this time what the biscuit and courbashare like," replied gines; "and it is no great grievance to me to goback to them, for there i shall have time to finish my book; i havestill many things left to say, and in the galleys of spain there ismore than enough leisure; though i do not want much for what i have towrite, for i have it by heart." "you seem a clever fellow," said don quixote. "and an unfortunate one," replied gines, "for misfortune alwayspersecutes good wit." "it persecutes rogues," said themissary. "i told you already to go gently, mastermissary," saidpasamonte; "their lordships yonder never gave you that staff toill-treat us wretches here, but to conduct and take us where hismajesty orders you; if not, by the life of-never mind-; it may be thatsome day the stains made in the inn wille out in the scouring; leteveryone hold his tongue and behave well and speak better; and now letus march on, for we have had quite enough of this entertainment." themissary lifted his staff to strike pasamonte in return forhis threats, but don quixote came between them, and begged him notto ill-use him, as it was not too much to allow one who had hishands tied to have his tongue a trifle free; and turning to thewhole ²åin of them he said: "from all you have told me, dear brethren, make out clearly thatthough they have puniÉäd you for your faults, the punishments you areabout to endure do not give you much pleasure, and that you go to themvery much against the grain and against your will, and that perhapsthis ones want of courage under torture, that ones want of money,the others want of advocacy, andstly the perverted judgment of thejudge may have been the cause of your ruin and of your failure toobtain the justice you had on your side. all which presents itself nowto my mind, urging, persuading, and evenpelling me todemonstrate in your case the purpose for which heaven sent me into theworld and caused me to make profession of the order of chivalry towhich i belong, and the vow i took therein to give aid to those inneed and under the oppression of the strong. but as i know that itis a mark of prudence not to do by foul means what may be done byfair, i will ask these gentlemen, the guards andmissary, to beso good as to release you and let you go in peace, as there will be nck of others to serve the king under more favourablecircumstances; for it seems to me a hard case to make ves ofthose whom god and nature have made free. moreover, sirs of theguard," added don quixote, "these poor fellows have done nothing toyou; let each answer for his own sins yonder; there is a god in heavenwho will not forget to punish the wicked or reward the good; and it isnot fitting that honest men should be the instruments of punishment toothers, they being therein no way concerned. this request i makethus gently and quietly, that, if youply with it, i may havereason for thanking you; and, if you will not voluntarily, thince and sword together with the might of my arm shallpel youtoply with it by force." "nice nonsense!" said themissary; "a fine piece of pleasantry hehase out with atst! he wants us to let the kings prisoners go,as if we had any authority to release them, or he to order us to doso! go your way, sir, and good luck to you; put that basin straightthat youve got on your head, and dont go looking for three feet on acat." tis you that are the cat, rat, and rascal," replied don quixote,and acting on the word he fell upon him so suddenly that withoutgiving him time to defend himself he brought him to the groundsorely wounded with ance-thrust; and lucky it was for him that itwas the one that had the musket. the other guards stoodthunderstruck and amazed at this unexpected event, but recoveringpresence of mind, those on horseback seized their swords, and those onfoot their javelins, and attacked don quixote, who was waiting forthem with great calmness; and no doubt it would have gone badly withhim if the galley ves, seeing the ²ånce before them ofliberating themselves, had not effected it by contriving to breakthe ²åin on which they were strung. such was the confusion, thatthe guards, now rushing at the galley ves who were breakingloose, now to attack don quixote who was waiting for them, did nothingat all that was of any use. sancho, on his part, gave a helping handto release gines de pasamonte, who was the first to leap forth uponthe in free and unfettered, and who, attacking the prostratmissary, took from him his sword and the musket, with which, aimingat one and levelling at another, he, without ever dis²årging it,drove every one of the guards off the field, for they took toflight, as well to escape pasamontes musket, as the showers of stonesthe now released galley ves were raining upon them. sancho wasgreatly grieved at the affair, because he anticipated that those whohad fled would report the matter to the holy brotherhood, who at thesummons of the rm-bell would at once sally forth in quest of theoffenders; and he said so to his master, and entreated him to leavethe ce at once, and go into hiding in the sierra that was close by.
µÚ35Ò³ "that is all very well," said don quixote, "but i know what mustbe done now;" and calling together all the galley ves, who were nowrunning riot, and had stripped themissary to the skin, hecollected them round him to hear what he had to say, and addressedthem as follows: "to be grateful for benefits received is the partof persons of good birth, and one of the sins most offensive to god isingratitude; i say so because, sirs, ye have already seen bymanifest proof the benefit ye have received of me; in return for whichi desire, and it is my good pleasure that,den with that ²åin whichi have taken off your necks, ye at once set out and proceed to thecity of el toboso, and there present yourselves before thedydulcinea del toboso, and say to her that her knight, he of therueful countenance, sends tomend himself to her; and that yerecount to her in full detail all the particrs of this notableadventure, up to the recovery of your longed-for liberty; and thisdone ye may go where ye will, and good fortune attend you." gines de pasamonte made answer for all, saying, "that which you,sir, our deliverer, demand of us, is of all impossibilities the mostimpossible toply with, because we cannot go together along theroads, but only singly and separate, and each one his own way,endeavouring to hide ourselves in the bowels of the earth to escapethe holy brotherhood, which, no doubt, wille out in search ofus. what your worship may do, and fairly do, is to ²ånge this serviceand tribute as regards thedy dulcinea del toboso for a certainquantity of ave-marias and credos which we will say for your worshipsintention, and this is a condition that can beplied with bynight as by day, running or resting, in peace or in war; but toimagine that we are going now to return to the flesh-pots of egypt,i mean to take up our ²åin and set out for el toboso, is to imaghat it is now night, though it is not yet ten in the morning, andto ask this of us is like asking pears of the elm tree." "then by all thats good," said don quixote £¨now stirred towrath£©£¬ "don son of a bitch, don ginesillo de paropillo, or whateveryour name is, you will have to go yourself alone, with your tailbetween your legs and the whole ²åin on your back." pasamonte, who was anything but meek £¨being by this timethoroughly convinced that don quixote was not quite right in hiÉäad as he hadmitted such a vagary as to set them free£©£¬ findinghimself abused in this fashion, gave the wink to hispanions, andfalling back they began to shower stones on don quixote at such a ratethat he was quite unable to protect himself with his buckler, and poorrocinante no more heeded the spur than if he had been made of brass.sancho nted himself behind his ass, and with him Éälteredhimself from the hailstorm that poured on both of them. don quixotewas unable to shield himself so well but that more pebbles than icould count struck him full on the body with such force that theybrought him to the ground; and the instant he fell the student pouncedupon him, snatched the basin from his head, and with it struck threeor four blows on his shoulders, and as many more on the ground,knocking it almost to pieces. they then stripped him of a jacketthat he wore over his armour, and they would have stripped off hisstockings if his greaves had not prevented them. from sancho they tookhis coat, leaving him in his shirt-sleeves; and dividing amongthemselves the remaining spoils of the battle, they went each onehis own way, more solicitous about keeping clear of the holybrotherhood they dreaded, than about burdening themselves with the²åin, or going to present themselves before thedy dulcinea deltoboso. the ass and rocinante, sancho and don quixote, were all thatwere left upon the spot; the ass with drooping head, serious,shaking his ears from time to time as if he thought the storm ofstones that assailed them was not yet over; rocinante stretched besidehis master, for he too had been brought to the ground by a stone;sancho stripped, and trembling with fear of the holy brotherhood;and don quixote fuming to find himself so served by the very personsfor whom he had done so much. ²åpter xxiii of what befell don quixote in the sierra morena, which was one ofthe rarest adventures rted in this veracious history seeing himself served in this way, don quixote said to his squire,"i have always heard it said, sancho, that to do good to boors is tothrow water into the sea. if i had believed thy words, i should haveavoided this trouble; but it is done now, it is only to havepatience and take warning for the future." "your worship will take warning as much as i am a turk," returnedsancho; "but, as you say this mischief might have been avoided ifyou had believed me, believe me now, and a still greater one will beavoided; for i tell you chivalry is of no ount with the holybrotherhood, and they dont care two maravedis for all theknights-errant in the world; and i can tell you i fancy i hear theirarrows whistling past my ears this minute." "thou art a coward by nature, sancho," said don quixote, "but lestthou shouldst say i am obstinate, and that i never do as thou dostadvise, this once i will take thy advice, and withdraw out of reach ofthat fury thou so dreadest; but it must be on one condition, thatnever, in life or in death, thou art to say to anyone that i retiredor withdrew from this danger out of fear, but only inpliancewith thy entreaties; for if thou sayest otherwise thou wilt lietherein, and from this time to that, and from that to this, i givethee lie, and say thou liest and wilt lie every time thou thinkestor sayest it; and answer me not again; for at the mere thought thati am withdrawing or retiring from any danger, above all from this,which does seem to carry some little shadow of fear with it, i amready to take my stand here and await alone, not only that holybrotherhood you talk of and dread, but the brothers of the twelvetribes of israel, and the seven mabees, and castor and pollux,and all the brothers and brotherhoods in the world." "senor," replied sancho, "to retire is not to flee, and there isno wisdom in waiting when danger outweighs hope, and it is the part ofwise men to preserve themselves to-day for to-morrow, and not risk allin one day; and let me tell you, though i am a clown and a boor, ihave got some notion of what they call safe conduct; so repent notof having taken my advice, but mount rocinante if you can, and ifnot i will help you; and follow me, for my mother-wit tells me we havemore need of legs than hands just now." don quixote mounted without replying, and, sancho leading the way onhis ass, they entered the side of the sierra morena, which was closeby, as it was sanchos design to cross it entirely ande outagain at el viso or almodovar del campo, and hide for some daysamong its crags so as to escape the search of the brotherhood shouldtheye to look for them. he was encouraged in this by perceivingthat the stock of provisions carried by the ass hade safe out ofthe fray with the galley ves, a circumstance that he regarded asa miracle, seeing how they piged and ransacked. that night they reached the very heart of the sierra morena, whereit seemed prudent to sancho to pass the night and even some days, atleast as many as the stores he carried mightst, and so theyencamped between two rocks and among some cork trees; but fataldestiny, which, ording to the opinion of those who have not thelight of the true faith, directs, arranges, and settles everythingin its own way, so ordered it that gines de pasamonte, the famousknave and thief who by the virtue and madness of don quixote hadbeen released from the ²åin, driven by fear of the holybrotherhood, which he had good reason to dread, resolved to takehiding in the mountains; and his fate and fear led him to the samespot to which don quixote and sancho panza had been led by theirs,just in time to recognise them and leave them to fall asleep: and asthe wicked are always ungrateful, and necessity leads to evildoing,and immediate advantage ovees all considerations of the future,gines, who was neither grateful nor well-principled, made up hismind to steal sancho panzas ass, not troubling himself aboutrocinante, as being a prize that was no good either to pledge or sell.while sancho slept he stole his ass, and before day dawned he wasfar out of reach. aurora made her appearance bringing dness to the earth butsadness to sancho panza, for he found that his dapple was missing, andseeing himself bereft of him he began the saddest and most dolefument in the world, so loud that don quixote awoke at hisexmations and heard him saying, "o son of my bowels, born in myvery house, my childrens ything, my wifes joy, the envy of myneighbours, relief of my burdens, andstly, half supporter ofmyself, for with the six-and-twenty maravedis thou didst earn me dailyi met half my ²årges." don quixote, when he heard thement and learned the cause,consoled sancho with the best arguments he could, entreating him to bepatient, and promising to give him a letter of ex²ånge ordering threeout of five ass-colts that he had at home to be given to him. sanchotookfort at this, dried his tears, suppressed his sobs, andreturned thanks for the kindness shown him by don quixote. he on hispart was rejoiced to the heart on entering the mountains, as theyseemed to him to be just the ce for the adventures he was inquest of. they brought back to his memory the marvellous adventuresthat had befallen knights-errant in like solitudes and wilds, and hewent along reflecting on these things, so absorbed and carried away bythem that he had no thought for anything else. nor had sancho anyother care £¨now that he fancied he was travelling in a safe quarter£©than to satisfy his appetite with such remains as were left of theclerical spoils, and so he marched behind his masterden with whatdapple used to carry, emptying the sack and packing his paunch, and solong as he could go that way, he would not have given a farthing tomeet with another adventure.
µÚ36Ò³ while so engaged he raised his eyes and saw that his master hadhalted, and was trying with the point of his pike to lift some bulkyobject thaty upon the ground, on which he hastened to join himand help him if it were needful, and reached him just as with thepoint of the pike he was raising a saddle-pad with a valise attachedto it, half or rather wholly rotten and torn; but so heavy were theythat sancho had to help to take them up, and his master directed himto see what the valise contained. sancho did so with great crity,and though the valise was secured by a ²åin and padlock, from itstorn and rotten condition he was able to see its contents, whichwere four shirts of fine hond, and other articles of linen noless curious than clean; and in a handkerchief he found a good lotof gold crowns, and as soon as he saw them he eximed: "blessed be all heaven for sending us an adventure that is goodfor something!" searching further he found a little memorandum book richly bound;this don quixote asked of him, telling him to take the money andkeep it for himself. sancho kissed his hands for the favour, andcleared the valise of its linen, which he stowed away in the provisionsack. considering the whole matter, don quixote observed: "it seems to me, sancho- and it is impossible it can be otherwise-that some strayed traveller must have crossed this sierra and beenattacked and in by footpads, who brought him to this remote spot tobury him." "that cannot be," answered sancho, "because if they had been robbersthey would not have left this money." "thou art right," said don quixote, "and i cannot guess or exinwhat this may mean; but stay; let us see if in this memorandum bookthere is anything written by which we may be able to trace out ordiscover what we want to know." he opened it, and the first thing he found in it, written roughlybut in a very good hand, was a so, and reading it aloud thatsancho might hear it, he found that it ran as follows: so or love iscking in intelligence, or to the height of cruelty attains, or else it is my doom to suffer pains beyond the measure due to my offence. but if love be a god, it follows thence that he knows all, and certain it remains no god loves cruelty; then who ordains this penance that enthrals while it torments? it were a falsehood, chloe, thee to name; such evil with such goodness cannot live; and against heaven i dare not ²årge the me, i only know it is my fate to die. to him who knows not whence his mdy a miracle alone a cure can give. "there is nothing to be learned from that rhyme," said sancho,"unless by that clue theres in it, one may draw out the ball of thewhole matter." "what clue is there?" said don quixote. "i thought your worship spoke of a clue in it," said sancho. "i only said chloe," replied don quixote; "and that no doubt, is thename of thedy of whom the author of the soins; and,faith, he must be a tolerable poet, or i know little of the craft." "then your worship understands rhyming too?" "and better than thou thinkest," replied don quixote, "as thou shaltsee when thou carriest a letter written in verse from beginning to endto mydy dulcinea del toboso, for i would have thee know, sancho,that all or most of the knights-errant in days of yore were greattroubadours and great musicians, for both of these aplishments, ormore properly speaking gifts, are the peculiar property oflovers-errant: true it is that the verses of the knights of old havemore spirit than neatness in them." "read more, your worship," said sancho, "and you will find somethingthat will enlighten us." don quixote turned the page and said, "this is prose and seems to bea letter." "a correspondence letter, senor?" "from the beginning it seems to be a love letter," replied donquixote. "then let your worship read it aloud," said sancho, "for i am veryfond of love matters." "with all my heart," said don quixote, and reading it aloud assancho had requested him, he found it ran thus: thy false promise and my sure misforutne carry me to a cewhence the news of my death will reach thy ears before the words of mint. ungrateful one, thou hast rejected me for one more wealthy,but not more worthy; but if virtue were esteemed wealth i shouldneither envy the fortunes of others nor weep for misfortunes of myown. what thy beauty raised up thy deeds haveid low; by it ibelieved thee to be an angel, by them i know thou art a woman. peacebe with thee who hast sent war to me, and heaven grant that the deceitof thy husband be ever hidden from thee, so that thou repent not ofwhat thou hast done, and i reap not a revenge i would not have. when he had finiÉäd the letter, don quixote said, "there is less tobe gathered from this than from the verses, except that he who wroteit is some rejected lover;" and turning over nearly all the pages ofthe book he found more verses and letters, some of which he couldread, while others he could not; but they were all made up oints,ments, misgivings, desires and aversions, favours andrejections, some rapturous, some doleful. while don quixote examinedthe book, sancho examined the valise, not leaving a corner in thewhole of it or in the pad that he did not search, peer into, andexplore, or seam that he did not rip, or tuft of wool that he didnot pick to pieces, lest anything should escape for want of care andpains; so keen was the covetousness excited in him by the discovery ofthe crowns, which amounted to near a hundred; and though he found nomore booty, he held the nket flights, balsam vomits, stakebenedictions, carriers fisticuffs, missing alforjas, stolen coat, andall the hunger, thirst, and weariness he had endured in the service ofhis good master, cheap at the price; as he considered himself morethan fully indemnified for all by the payment he received in thegift of the treasure-trove. the knight of the rueful countenance was still very anxious tofind out who the owner of the valise could be, conjecturing from theso and letter, from the money in gold, and from the fineness ofthe shirts, that he must be some lover of distinction whom the scornand cruelty of hisdy had driven to some desperate course; but as inthat uninhabited and rugged spot there was no one to be seen of whomhe could inquire, he saw nothing else for it but to push on, takingwhatever road rocinante chose- which was where he could make hisway- firmly persuaded that among these wilds he could not fail to meetsome rare adventure. as he went along, then, upied with thesethoughts, he perceived on the summit of a height that rose beforetheir eyes a man who went springing from rock to rock and from tussockto tussock with marvellous agility. as well as he could make out hewas und, with a thick ck beard, long tangled hair, and bare legsand feet, his thighs were covered by breeches apparently of tawnyvelvet but so ragged that they showed his skin in several ces. hewas bareheaded, and notwithstanding the swiftness with which he passedas has been described, the knight of the rueful countenance observedand noted all these trifles, and though he made the attempt, he wasunable to follow him, for it was not granted to the feebleness ofrocinante to make way over such rough ground, he being, moreover,slow-paced and sluggish by nature. don quixote at once came to theconclusion that this was the owner of the saddle-pad and of thevalise, and made up his mind to go in search of him, even though heshould have to wander a year in those mountains before he found him,and so he directed sancho to take a short cut over one side of themountain, while he himself went by the other, and perhaps by thismeans they might light upon this man who had passed so quickly outof their sight. "i could not do that," said sancho, "for when i separate from yourworship fear at onceys hold of me, and assails me with all sorts ofpanics and fancies; and let what i now say be a notice that fromthis time forth i am not going to stir a fingers width from yourpresence." "it shall be so," said he of the rueful countenance, "and i amvery d that thou art willing to rely on my courage, which willnever fail thee, even though the soul in thy body fail thee; soeon now behind me slowly as well as thou canst, and makenterns ofthine eyes; let us make the circuit of this ridge; perhaps we shalllight upon this man that we saw, who no doubt is no other than theowner of what we found." to which sancho made answer, "far better would it be not to look forhim, for, if we find him, and he happens to be the owner of the money,it is in i must restore it; it would be better, therefore, thatwithout taking this needless trouble, i should keep possession of ituntil in some other less meddlesome and officious way the real ownermay be discovered; and perhaps that will be when i shall have spentit, and then the king will hold me harmless." "thou art wrong there, sancho," said don quixote, "for now that wehave a suspicion who the owner is, and have him almost before us, weare bound to seek him and make restitution; and if we do not seehim, the strong suspicion we have as to his being the owner makes usas guilty as if he were so; and so, friend sancho, let not oursearch for him give thee any uneasiness, for if we find him it willrelieve mine."
µÚ37Ò³ and so saying he gave rocinante the spur, and sancho followed him onfoot and loaded, and after having partly made the circuit of themountain they found lying in a ravine, dead and half devoured bydogs and pecked by jackdaws, a mule saddled and bridled, all whichstill further strengthened their suspicion that he who had fled wasthe owner of the mule and the saddle-pad. as they stood looking at it they heard a whistle like that of aÉäpherd watching his flock, and suddenly on their left there appeareda great number of goats and behind them on the summit of themountain the goatherd in ²årge of them, a man advanced in years.don quixote called aloud to him and begged him toe down to wherethey stood. he shouted in return, asking what had brought them to thatspot, seldom or never trodden except by the feet of goats, or of thewolves and other wild beasts that roamed around. sancho in return badehime down, and they would exin all to him. the goatherd descended, and reaching the ce where don quixotestood, he said, "i will wager you are looking at that hack mule thatlies dead in the hollow there, and, faith, it has been lying there nowthese six months; tell me, have youe upon its master about here?" "we havee upon nobody," answered don quixote, "nor on anythingexcept a saddle-pad and a little valise that we found not far fromthis." "i found it too," said the goatherd, "but i would not lift it nor gonear it for fear of some ill-luck or being ²årged with theft, for thedevil is crafty, and things rise up under ones feet to make onefall without knowing why or wherefore." "thats exactly what i say," said sancho; "i found it too, and iwould not go within a stones throw of it; there i left it, andthere it lies just as it was, for i dont want a dog with a bell." "tell me, good man," said don quixote, "do you know who is the ownerof this property?" "all i can tell you," said the goatherd, "is that about six monthsago, more or less, there arrived at a Éäpherds hut three leagues,perhaps, away from this, a youth of well-bred appearance andmanners, mounted on that same mule which lies dead here, and withthe same saddle-pad and valise which you say you found and did nottouch. he asked us what part of this sierra was the most rugged andretired; we told him that it was where we now are; and so in truthit is, for if you push on half a league farther, perhaps you willnot be able to find your way out; and i am wondering how you havemanaged toe here, for there is no road or path that leads tothis spot. i say, then, that on hearing our answer the youth turnedabout and made for the ce we pointed out to him, leaving us all²årmed with his good looks, and wondering at his question and thehaste with which we saw him depart in the direction of the sierra; andafter that we saw him no more, until some days afterwards he crossedthe path of one of our Éäpherds, and without saying a word to him,came up to him and gave him several cuffs and kicks, and then turnedto the ass with our provisions and took all the bread and cheese itcarried, and having done this made off back again into the sierra withextraordinary swiftness. when some of us goatherds learned this wewent in search of him for about two days through the most remoteportion of this sierra, at the end of which we found him lodged in thehollow of arge thick cork tree. he came out to meet us with greatgentleness, with his dress now torn and his face so disfigured andburned by the sun, that we hardly recognised him but that his clothes,though torn, convinced us, from the recollection we had of them,that he was the person we were looking for. he saluted us courteously,and in a few well-spoken words he told us not to wonder at seeinghim going about in this guise, as it was binding upon him in orderthat he might work out a penance which for his many sins had beenimposed upon him. we asked him to tell us who he was, but we werenever able to find out from him: we begged of him too, when he wasin want of food, which he could not do without, to tell us where weshould find him, as we would bring it to him with all good-will andreadiness; or if this were not to his taste, at least toe andask it of us and not take it by force from the Éäpherds. he thankedus for the offer, begged pardon for thete assault, and promised forthe future to ask it in gods name without offering violence toanybody. as for fixed abode, he said he had no other than that which²ånce offered wherever night might overtake him; and his wordsended in an outburst of weeping so bitter that we who listened tohim must have been very stones had we not joined him in itparing what we saw of him the first time with what we saw now; for,as i said, he was a graceful and gracious youth, and in hiscourteous and poliÉädnguage showed himself to be of good birth andcourtly breeding, and rustics as we were that listened to him, even toour rusticity his gentle bearing sufficed to make it in. "but in the midst of his conversation he stopped and becamesilent, keeping his eyes fixed upon the ground for some time, duringwhich we stood still waiting anxiously to see what woulde ofthis abstraction; and with no little pity, for from his behaviour, nowstaring at the ground with fixed gaze and eyes wide open withoutmoving an eyelid, again closing them,pressing his lips and raisinghis eyebrows, we could perceive inly that a fit of madness ofsome kind hade upon him; and before long he showed that what weimagined was the truth, for he arose in a fury from the ground wherehe had thrown himself, and attacked the first he found near him withsuch rage and fierceness that if we had not dragged him off him, hewould have beaten or bitten him to death, all the while eximing,oh faithless fernando, here, here shalt thou pay the penalty of thewrong thou hast done me; these hands shall tear out that heart ofthine, abode and dwelling of all iniquity, but of deceit and fraudabove all; and to these he added other words all in effectupbraiding this fernando and ²årging him with treachery andfaithlessness. "we forced him to release his hold with no little difficulty, andwithout another word he left us, and rushing off plunged in amongthese brakes and brambles, so as to make it impossible for us tofollow him; from this we suppose that madnesses upon him from timeto time, and that some one called fernando must have done him awrong of a grievous nature such as the condition to which it hadbrought him seemed to show. all this has been since then confirmedon those asions, and they have been many, on which he has crossedour path, at one time to beg the Éäpherds to give him some of thefood they carry, at another to take it from them by force; for whenthere is a fit of madness upon him, even though the Éäpherds offer itfreely, he will not ept it but snatches it from them by dint ofblows; but when he is in his senses he begs it for the love of god,courteously and civilly, and receives it with many thanks and not afew tears. and to tell you the truth, sirs," continued the goatherd,"it was yesterday that we resolved, i and four of theds, two ofthem our servants, and the other two friends of mine, to go insearch of him until we find him, and when we do to take him, whetherby force or of his own consent, to the town of almodovar, which iseight leagues from this, and there strive to cure him £¨if indeed hismdy admits of a cure£©£¬ or learn when he is in his senses who he is,and if he has rtives to whom we may give notice of hismisfortune. this, sirs, is all i can say in answer to what you haveasked me; and be sure that the owner of the articles you found is hewhom you saw pass by with such nimbleness and so naked." for don quixote had already described how he had seen the man gobounding along the mountain side, and he was now filled with amazementat what he heard from the goatherd, and more eager than ever todiscover who the unhappy madman was; and in his heart he resolved,as he had done before, to search for him all over the mountain, notleaving a corner or cave unexamined until he had found him. but ²åncearranged matters better than he expected or hoped, for at that verymoment, in a gorge on the mountain that opened where they stood, theyouth he wiÉäd to find made his appearance,ing along talking tohimself in a way that would have been unintelligible near at hand,much more at a distance. his garb was what has been described, savethat as he drew near, don quixote perceived that a tattered doubletwhich he wore was amber-tanned, from which he concluded that one whowore such garments could not be of very low rank. approaching them, the youth greeted them in a harsh and hoarse voicebut with great courtesy. don quixote returned his salutation withequal politeness, and dismounting from rocinante advanced withwell-bred bearing and grace to embrace him, and held him for some timeclose in his arms as if he had known him for a long time. the other,whom we may call the ragged one of the sorry countenance, as donquixote was of the rueful, after submitting to the embrace puÉädhim back a little and, cing his hands on don quixotes shoulders,stood gazing at him as if seeking to see whether he knew him, not lessamazed, perhaps, at the sight of the face, figure, and armour of donquixote than don quixote was at the sight of him. to be brief, thefirst to speak after embracing was the ragged one, and he said whatwill be told farther on. ²åpter xxiv in which is continued the adventure of the sierra morena the history rtes that it was with the greatest attention donquixote listened to the ragged knight of the sierra, who began bysaying:
µÚ38Ò³ "of a surety, senor, whoever you are, for i know you not, i thankyou for the proofs of kindness and courtesy you have shown me, andwould i were in a condition to requite with something more thangood-will that which you have disyed towards me in the cordialreception you have given me; but my fate does not afford me anyother means of returning kindnesses done me save the hearty desireto repay them." "mine," replied don quixote, "is to be of service to you, so much sothat i had resolved not to quit these mountains until i had found you,and learned of you whether there is any kind of relief to be found forthat sorrow under which from the strangeness of your life you seemtobour; and to search for you with all possible diligence, ifsearch had been necessary. and if your misfortune should prove to beone of those that refuse admission to any sort of constion, itwas my purpose to join you inmenting and mourning over it, so faras i could; for it is still somefort in misfortune to find one whocan feel for it. and if my good intentions deserve to beacknowledged with any kind of courtesy, i entreat you, senor, bythat which i perceive you possess in so high a degree, and likewiseconjure you by whatever you love or have loved best in life, to tellme who you are and the cause that has brought you to live or die inthese solitudes like a brute beast, dwelling among them in a manner soforeign to your condition as your garb and appearance show. and iswear," added don quixote, "by the order of knighthood which i havereceived, and by my vocation of knight-errant, if you gratify me inthis, to serve you with all the zeal my calling demands of me,either in relieving your misfortune if it admits of relief, or injoining you inmenting it as i promised to do." the knight of the thicket, hearing him of the rueful countenancetalk in this strain, did nothing but stare at him, and stare at himagain, and again survey him from head to foot; and when he hadthoroughly examined him, he said to him: "if you have anything to give me to eat, for gods sake give itme, and after i have eaten i will do all you ask in acknowledgmentof the goodwill you have disyed towards me." sancho from his sack, and the goatherd from his pouch, furniÉäd theragged one with the means of appeasing his hunger, and what theygave him he ate like a half-witted being, so hastily that he took notime between mouthfuls, gorging rather than swallowing; and while heate neither he nor they who observed him uttered a word. as soon as hehad done he made signs to them to follow him, which they did, and heled them to a green plot whichy a little farther off round thecorner of a rock. on reaching it he stretched himself upon thegrass, and the others did the same, all keeping silence, until theragged one, settling himself in his ce, said: "if it is your wish, sirs, that i should disclose in a few words thesurpassing extent of my misfortunes, you must promise not to break thethread of my sad story with any question or other interruption, forthe instant you do so the tale i tell wille to an end." these words of the ragged one reminded don quixote of the tale hissquire had told him, when he failed to keep count of the goats thathad crossed the river and the story remained unfiniÉäd; but to returnto the ragged one, he went on to say: "i give you this warning because i wish to pass briefly over thestory of my misfortunes, for recalling them to memory only serves toadd fresh ones, and the less you question me the sooner shall i makean end of the recital, though i shall not omit to rte anything ofimportance in order fully to satisfy your curiosity." don quixote gave the promise for himself and the others, and withthis assurance he began as follows: "my name is cardenio, my birthce one of the best cities of thisandalusia, my family noble, my parents rich, my misfortune so greatthat my parents must have wept and my family grieved over it withoutbeing able by their wealth to lighten it; for the gifts of fortune cando little to relieve reverses sent by heaven. in that same countrythere was a heaven in which love had ced all the glory i coulddesire; such was the beauty of luscinda, a damsel as noble and as ri²ås i, but of happier fortunes, and of less firmness than was due to soworthy a passion as mine. this luscinda i loved, worshipped, andadored from my earliest and tenderest years, and Éä loved me in allthe innocence and sincerity of childhood. our parents were aware ofour feelings, and were not sorry to perceive them, for they sawclearly that as they ripened they must lead atst to a marriagebetween us, a thing that seemed almost prearranged by the equalityof our families and wealth. we grew up, and with our growth grew thelove between us, so that the father of luscinda felt bound forproprietys sake to refuse me admission to his house, in thisperhaps imitating the parents of that thisbe so celebrated by thepoets, and this refusal but added love to love and me to me; forthough they enforced silence upon our tongues they could not impose itupon our pens, which can make known the hearts secrets to a loved onemore freely than tongues; for many a time the presence of the objectof love shakes the firmest will and strikes dumb the boldest tongue.ah heavens! how many letters did i write her, and how many daintymodest replies did i receive! how many ditties and love-songs did pose in which my heart dered and made known its feelings,described its ardent longings, revelled in its recollections anddallied with its desires! at length growing impatient and feeling myheartnguishing with longing to see her, i resolved to put intoexecution and carry out what seemed to me the best mode of winningmy desired and merited reward, to ask her of her father for mwful wife, which i did. to this his answer was that he thanked mefor the disposition i showed to do honour to him and to regardmyself as honoured by the bestowal of his treasure; but that as myfather was alive it was his by right to make this demand, for if itwere not in ordance with his full will and pleasure, luscinda wasnot to be taken or given by stealth. i thanked him for his kindness,reflecting that there was reason in what he said, and that my fatherwould assent to it as soon as i should tell him, and with that viewi went the very same instant to let him know what my desires were.when i entered the room where he was i found him with an open letterin his hand, which, before i could utter a word, he gave me, saying,by this letter thou wilt see, cardenio, the disposition the dukericardo has to serve thee. this duke ricardo, as you, sirs,probably know already, is a grandee of spain who has his seat in thebest part of this andalusia. i took and read the letter, which wascouched in terms so ttering that even i myself felt it would bewrong in my father not toply with the request the duke made in it,which was that he would send me immediately to him, as he wiÉäd me tobe thepanion, not servant, of his eldest son, and would takeupon himself the ²årge of cing me in a position corresponding tothe esteem in which he held me. on reading the letter my voicefailed me, and still more when i heard my father say, two dayÉänce thou wilt depart, cardenio, in ordance with the dukeswish, and give thanks to god who is opening a road to thee by whichthou mayest attain what i know thou dost deserve; and to these wordÉä added others of fatherly counsel. the time for my departurearrived; i spoke one night to luscinda, i told her all that hadurred, as i did also to her father, entreating him to allow somedy, and to defer the disposal of her hand until i should see whatthe duke ricardo sought of me: he gave me the promise, and Éäconfirmed it with vows and swoonings unnumbered. finally, ipresented myself to the duke, and was received and treated by him sokindly that very soon envy began to do its work, the old servantsgrowing envious of me, and regarding the dukes inclination to show mefavour as an injury to themselves. but the one to whom my arrival gavethe greatest pleasure was the dukes second son, fernando by name, agant youth, of noble, generous, and amorous disposition, who verysoon made so intimate a friend of me that it was remarked byeverybody; for though the elder was attached to me, and showed mekindness, he did not carry his affectionate treatment to the samelength as don fernando. it so happened, then, that as betweenfriends no secret remains unshared, and as the favour i enjoyed withdon fernando had grown into friendship, he made all his thoughts knownto me, and in particr a love affair which troubled his mind alittle. he was deeply in love with a peasant girl, a vassal of hisfathers, the daughter of wealthy parents, and herself so beautiful,modest, discreet, and virtuous, that no one who knew her was able todecide in which of these respects Éä was most highly gifted or mostexcelled. the attractions of the fair peasant raised the passion ofdon fernando to such a point that, in order to gain his object andovee her virtuous resolutions, he determined to pledge his word toher to be her husband, for to attempt it in any other way was toattempt an impossibility. bound to him as i was by friendship, istrove by the best arguments and the most forcible examples i couldthink of to restrain and dissuade him from such a course; butperceiving i produced no effect i resolved to make the duke ricardo,his father, acquainted with the matter; but don fernando, beingsharp-witted and shrewd, foresaw and apprehended this, perceiving thatby my duty as a good servant i was bound not to keep concealed a thingso much opposed to the honour of my lord the duke; and so, tomislead and deceive me, he told me he could find no better way ofeffacing from his mind the beauty that so enved him than byabsenting himself for some months, and that he wiÉäd the absence tobe effected by our going, both of us, to my fathers house under thepretence, which he would make to the duke, of going to see and buysome fine horses that there were in my city, which produces the bestin the world. when i heard him say so, even if his resolution hadnot been so good a one i should have hailed it as one of thehappiest that could be imagined, prompted by my affection, seeing whata favourable ²ånce and opportunity it offered me of returning tosee my luscinda. with this thought and wish imended his idea andencouraged his design, advising him to put it into execution asquickly as possible, as, in truth, absence produced its effect inspite of the most deeply rooted feelings. but, as afterwards appeared,when he said this to me he had already enjoyed the peasant girlunder the title of husband, and was waiting for an opportunity ofmaking it known with safety to himself, being in dread of what hisfather the duke would do when he came to know of his folly. ithappened, then, that as with young men love is for the most partnothing more than appetite, which, as its final object is enjoymentes to an end on obtaining it, and that which seemed to be lovetakes to flight, as it cannot pass the limit fixed by nature, whichfixes no limit to true love- what i mean is that after don fernandohad enjoyed this peasant girl his passion subsided and his eagernesscooled, and if at first he feigned a wish to absent himself in orderto cure his love, he was now in reality anxious to go to avoid keepinghis promise.
µÚ39Ò³ "the duke gave him permission, and ordered me to apany him; wearrived at my city, and my father gave him the reception due to hisrank; i saw luscinda without dy, and, though it had not been deador deadened, my love gathered fresh life. to my sorrow i told thestory of it to don fernando, for i thought that in virtue of the greatfriendship he bore me i was bound to conceal nothing from him. iextolled her beauty, her gaiety, her wit, so warmly, that my praisesexcited in him a desire to see a damsel adorned by such attractions.to my misfortune i yielded to it, showing her to him one night bythe light of a taper at a window where we used to talk to one another.as Éä appeared to him in her dressing-gown, Éä drove all thebeauties he had seen until then out of his recollection; speech failedhim, his head turned, he was spell-bound, and in the end love-smitten,as you will see in the course of the story of my misfortune; and toinme still further his passion, which he hid from me and revealedto heaven alone, it so happened that one day he found a note of hersentreating me to demand her of her father in marriage, so delicate, somodest, and so tender, that on reading it he told me that inluscinda alone werebined all the ²årms of beauty andunderstanding that were distributed among all the other women in theworld. it is true, and i own it now, that though i knew what goodcause don fernando had to praise luscinda, it gave me uneasiness tohear these praises from his mouth, and i began to fear, and withreason to feel distrust of him, for there was no moment when he wasnot ready to talk of luscinda, and he would start the subjecthimself even though he dragged it in unseasonably, a circumstance thataroused in me a certain amount of jealousy; not that i feared any²ånge in the constancy or faith of luscinda; but still my fate led meto forebode what Éä assured me against. don fernando contrived alwaysto read the letters i sent to luscinda and her answers to me, underthe pretence that he enjoyed the wit and sense of both. it sohappened, then, that luscinda having begged of me a book of chivalryto read, one that Éä was very fond of, amadis of gaul-" don quixote no sooner heard a book of chivalry mentioned, than hesaid: "had your worship told me at the beginning of your story that thdy luscinda was fond of books of chivalry, no otherudationwould have been requisite to impress upon me the superiority of herunderstanding, for it could not have been of the excellence youdescribe had a taste for such delightful reading been wanting; so,as far as i am concerned, you need waste no more words in describingher beauty, worth, and intelligence; for, on merely hearing what hertaste was, i dere her to be the most beautiful and the mostintelligent woman in the world; and i wish your worship had, alongwith amadis of gaul, sent her the worthy don rugel of greece, for iknow thedy luscinda would greatly relish daraida and garaya, andthe shrewd sayings of the Éäpherd darinel, and the admirable versesof his bucolics, sung and delivered by him with such sprightliness,wit, and ease; but a time maye when this omission can be remedied,and to rectify it nothing more is needed than for your worship to beso good as toe with me to my vige, for there i can give youmore than three hundred books which are the delight of my soul and theentertainment of my life;- though it urs to me that i have notgot one of them now, thanks to the spite of wicked and enviousen²ånters;- but pardon me for having broken the promise we made notto interrupt your discourse; for when i hear chivalry orknights-errant mentioned, i can no more help talking about them thanthe rays of the sun can help giving heat, or those of the moonmoisture; pardon me, therefore, and proceed, for that is more to thepurpose now." while don quixote was saying this, cardenio allowed his head to fallupon his breast, and seemed plunged in deep thought; and thoughtwice don quixote bade him go on with his story, he neither lookedup nor uttered a word in reply; but after some time he raised his headand said, "i cannot get rid of the idea, nor will anyone in theworld remove it, or make me think otherwise -and he would be ablockhead who would hold or believe anything else than that thatarrant knave master elisabad made free with queen madasima." "that is not true, by all thats good," said don quixote in highwrath, turning upon him angrily, as his way was; "and it is a verygreat nder, or rather viiny. queen madasima was a veryillustriousdy, and it is not to be supposed that so exalted aprincess would have made free with a quack; and whoever maintainsthe contrary lies like a great scoundrel, and i will give him toknow it, on foot or on horseback, armed or unarmed, by night or byday, or as he likes best." cardenio was looking at him steadily, and his mad fit having noe upon him, he had no disposition to go on with his story, norwould don quixote have listened to it, so much had what he had heardabout madasima disgusted him. strange to say, he stood up for her asif Éä were in earnest his veritable borndy; to such a pass had hisunholy books brought him. cardenio, then, being, as i said, now mad,when he heard himself given the lie, and called a scoundrel andother insulting names, not relishing the jest, snatched up a sthat he found near him, and with it delivered such a blow on donquixotes breast that heid him on his back. sancho panza, seeinghis master treated in this fashion, attacked the madman with hisclosed fist; but the ragged one received him in such a way that with ablow of his fist he stretched him at his feet, and then mountingupon him cruÉäd his ribs to his own satisfaction; the goatherd, whocame to the rescue, shared the same fate; and having beaten andpummelled them all he left them and quietly withdrew to hishiding-ce on the mountain. sancho rose, and with the rage he feltat finding himself so bboured without deserving it, ran to takevengeance on the goatherd, using him of not giving them warningthat this man was at times taken with a mad fit, for if they had knownit they would have been on their guard to protect themselves. thegoatherd replied that he had said so, and that if he had not heardhim, that was no fault of his. sancho retorted, and the goatherdrejoined, and the altercation ended in their seizing each other by thebeard, and ex²ånging such fisticuffs that if don quixote had not madepeace between them, they would have knocked one another to pieces. "leave me alone, sir knight of the rueful countenance," said sancho,grappling with the goatherd, "for of this fellow, who is a clownlike myself, and no dubbed knight, i can safely take satisfactionfor the affront he has offered me, fighting with him hand to hand likean honest man." "that is true," said don quixote, "but i know that he is not tome for what has happened." with this he pacified them, and again asked the goatherd if it wouldbe possible to find cardenio, as he felt the greatest anxiety toknow the end of his story. the goatherd told him, as he had told himbefore, that there was no knowing of a certainty where hisir was;but that if he wandered about much in that neighbourhood he couldnot fail to fall in with him either in or out of his senses. ²åpter xxv which treats of the strange things that happened to the stout knightof man²å in the sierra morena, and of his imitation of the penanceof beltenebros don quixote took leave of the goatherd, and once more mountingrocinante bade sancho follow him, which he having no ass, did verydiscontentedly. they proceeded slowly, making their way into themost rugged part of the mountain, sancho all the while dying to have atalk with his master, and longing for him to begin, so that thereshould be no breach of the injunctionid upon him; but unable tokeep silence so long he said to him: "senor don quixote, give me your worships blessing and dismissal,for id like to go home at once to my wife and children with whom ican at any rate talk and converse as much as i like; for to want me togo through these solitudes day and night and not speak to you when ihave a mind is burying me alive. if luck would have it that animalsspoke as they did in the days of guisopete, it would not be so bad,because i could talk to rocinante about whatever came into my head,and so put up with my ill-fortune; but it is a hard case, and not tobe borne with patience, to go seeking adventures all ones life andget nothing but kicks and nketings, brickbats and punches, and withall this to have to sew up ones mouth without daring to say what isin ones heart, just as if one were dumb." "i understand thee, sancho," replied don quixote; "thou art dying tohave the interdict i ced upon thy tongue removed; consider itremoved, and say what thou wilt while we are wandering in thesemountains." "so be it," said sancho; "let me speak now, for god knows whatwill happen by-and-by; and to take advantage of the permit at once,i ask, what made your worship stand up so for that queen majimasa,or whatever her name is, or what did it matter whether that abbotwas a friend of hers or not? for if your worship had let that pass-and you were not a judge in the matter- it is my belief the madmanwould have gone on with his story, and the blow of the stone, andthe kicks, and more than half a dozen cuffs would have been escaped." "in faith, sancho," answered don quixote, "if thou knewest as i dowhat an honourable and illustriousdy queen madasima was, i knowthou wouldst say i had great patience that i did not break in piecesthe mouth that uttered such sphemies, for a very great sphemy itis to say or imagine that a queen has made free with a surgeon. thetruth of the story is that that master elisabad whom the madmanmentioned was a man of great prudence and sound judgment, and servedas governor and physician to the queen, but to suppose that Éä washis mistress is nonsense deserving very severe punishment; and as aproof that cardenio did not know what he was saying, remember whenhe said it he was out of his wits."
µÚ40Ò³ "that is what i say," said sancho; "there was no asion forminding the words of a madman; for if good luck had not helped yourworship, and he had sent that stone at your head instead of at yourbreast, a fine way we should have been in for standing up for mdy yonder, god confound her! and then, would not cardenio havegone free as a madman?" "against men in their senses or against madmen," said don quixote,"every knight-errant is bound to stand up for the honour of women,whoever they may be, much more for queens of such high degree anddignity as queen madasima, for whom i have a particr regard onount of her amiable qualities; for, besides being extremelybeautiful, Éä was very wise, and very patient under hermisfortunes, of which Éä had many; and the counsel and society of themaster elisabad were a great help and support to her in enduring herafflictions with wisdom and resignation; hence the ignorant andill-disposed vulgar took asion to say and think that Éä was hismistress; and they lie, i say it once more, and will lie two hundredtimes more, all who think and say so." "i neither say nor think so," said sancho; "let them look to it;with their bread let them eat it; they have rendered ount to godwhether they misbehaved or not; ie from my vineyard, i knownothing; i am not fond of prying into other mens lives; he who buysand lies feels it in his purse; moreover, naked was i born, naked ifind myself, i neither lose nor gain; but if they did, what is that tome? many think there are flitches where there are no hooks; but whocan put gates to the open in? moreover they said of god-" "god bless me," said don quixote, "what a set of absurdities thouart stringing together! what has what we are talking about got to dowith the proverbs thou art threading one after the other? for godssake hold thy tongue, sancho, and henceforward keep to prodding thyass and dont meddle in what does not concern thee; and understandwith all thy five senses that everything i have done, am doing, orshall do, is well founded on reason and in conformity with the rulesof chivalry, for i understand them better than all the world thatprofess them." "senor," replied sancho, "is it a good rule of chivalry that weshould go astray through these mountains without path or road, lookingfor a madman who when he is found will perhaps take a fancy tofinish what he began, not his story, but your worships head and myribs, and end by breaking them altogether for us?" "peace, i say again, sancho," said don quixote, "for let me tellthee it is not so much the desire of finding that madman that leads meinto these regions as that which i have of performing among them anachievement wherewith i shall win eternal name and fame throughout theknown world; and it shall be such that i shall thereby set the seal onall that can make a knight-errant perfect and famous." "and is it very perilous, this achievement?" "no," replied he of the rueful countenance; "though it may be in thedice that we may throw deuce-ace instead of sixes; but all will dependon thy diligence." "on my diligence!" said sancho. "yes," said don quixote, "for if thou dost return soon from thece where i mean to send thee, my penance will be soon over, andmy glory will soon begin. but as it is not right to keep thee anylonger in suspense, waiting to see whates of my words, i wouldhave thee know, sancho, that the famous amadis of gaul was one ofthe most perfect knights-errant- i am wrong to say he was one; hestood alone, the first, the only one, the lord of all that were in theworld in his time. a fig for don belianis, and for all who say heequalled him in any respect, for, my oath upon it, they aredeceiving themselves! i say, too, that when a painter desires tobe famous in his art he endeavours to copy the originals of therarest painters that he knows; and the same rule holds good for allthe most important crafts and callings that serve to adorn a state;thus must he who would be esteemed prudent and patient imitateulysses, in whose person andbours homer presents to us a livelypicture of prudence and patience; as virgil, too, shows us in theperson of aeneas the virtue of a pious son and the sagacity of a braveand skilful captain; not representing or describing them as they were,but as they ought to be, so as to leave the example of their virtuesto posterity. in the same way amadis was the polestar, day-star, sunof valiant and devoted knights, whom all we who fight under the bannerof love and chivalry are bound to imitate. this, then, being so, iconsider, friend sancho, that the knight-errant who shall imitatehim most closely wille nearest to reaching the perfection ofchivalry. now one of the instances in which this knight mostconspicuously showed his prudence, worth, valour, endurance,fortitude, and love, was when he withdrew, rejected by thedyoriana, to do penance upon the pena pobre, ²ånging his name into thatof beltenebros, a name assuredly significant and appropriate to thelife which he had voluntarily adopted. so, as it is easier for me toimitate him in this than in cleaving giants asunder, cutting offserpents heads, ying dragons, routing armies, destroying fleets,and breaking en²åntments, and as this ce is so well suited for asimr purpose, i must not allow the opportunity to escape whichnow so conveniently offers me its forelock." "what is it in reality," said sancho, "that your worship means to doin such an out-of-the-way ce as this?" "have i not told thee," answered don quixote, "that i mean toimitate amadis here, ying the victim of despair, the madman, themaniac, so as at the same time to imitate the valiant don rnd, whenat the fountain he had evidence of the fair angelica havingdisgraced herself with medoro and through grief thereat went mad,and plucked up trees, troubled the waters of the clear springs, slewdestroyed flocks, burned down huts, levelled houses, dragged maresafter him, and perpetrated a hundred thousand other outrages worthy ofevesting renown and record? and though i have no intention ofimitating rnd, or ondo, or rotndo £¨for he went by all thesenames£©£¬ step by step in all the mad things he did, said, andthought, i will make a rough copy to the best of my power of allthat seems to me most essential; but perhaps i shall content myselfwith the simple imitation of amadis, who without giving way to anymischievous madness but merely to tears and sorrow, gained as muchfame as the most famous." "it seems to me," said sancho, "that the knights who behaved in thisway had provocation and cause for those follies and penances; but whatcause has your worship for going mad? whatdy has rejected you, orwhat evidence have you found to prove that thedy dulcinea deltoboso has been trifling with moor or christian?" "there is the point," replied don quixote, "and that is the beautyof this business of mine; no thanks to a knight-errant for going madwhen he has cause; the thing is to turn crazy without any provocation,and let mydy know, if i do this in the dry, what i would do inthe moist; moreover i have abundant cause in the long separation ihave endured from mydy till death, dulcinea del toboso; for as thoudidst hear that Éäpherd ambrosio say the other day, in absence allills are felt and feared; and so, friend sancho, waste no time inadvising me against so rare, so happy, and so unheard-of an imitation;mad i am, and mad i must be until thou returnest with the answer toa letter that i mean to send by thee to mydy dulcinea; and if it besuch as my constancy deserves, my insanity and penance wille to anend; and if it be to the opposite effect, i shall be mad inearnest, and, being so, i shall suffer no more; thus in whatever wayÉä may answer i shall escape from the struggle and affliction inwhich thou wilt leave me, enjoying in my senses the boon thoubearest me, or as a madman not feeling the evil thou bringest me.but tell me, sancho, hast thou got mambrinos helmet safe? for i sawthee take it up from the ground when that ungrateful wretch tried tobreak it in pieces but could not, by which the fineness of itstemper may be seen." to which sancho made answer, "by the living god, sir knight of therueful countenance, i cannot endure or bear with patience some ofthe things that your worship says; and from them i begin to suspectthat all you tell me about chivalry, and winning kingdoms and empires,and giving inds, and bestowing other rewards and dignities afterthe custom of knights-errant, must be all made up of wind and lies,and all pigments or figments, or whatever we may call them; for whatwould anyone think that heard your worship calling a barbers basinmambrinos helmet without ever seeing the mistake all this time, butthat one who says and maintains such things must have his brainsaddled? i have the basin in my sack all dinted, and i am taking ithome to have it mended, to trim my beard in it, if, by gods grace,i am allowed to see my wife and children some day or other." "look here, sancho," said don quixote, "by him thou didst swear byjust now i swear thou hast the most limited understanding that anysquire in the world has or ever had. is it possible that all this timethou hast been going about with me thou hast never found out thatall things belonging to knights-errant seem to be illusions andnonsense and ravings, and to go always by contraries? and notbecause it really is so, but because there is always a swarm ofen²ånters in attendance upon us that ²ånge and alter everything withus, and turn things as they please, and ording as they are disposedto aid or destroy us; thus what seems to thee a barbers basin seemsto me mambrinos helmet, and to another it will seem something else;and rare foresight it was in the sage who is on my side to make whatis really and truly mambrines helmet seem a basin to everybody,for, being held in such estimation as it is, all the world wouldpursue me to rob me of it; but when they see it is only a barbersbasin they do not take the trouble to obtain it; as was inlyshown by him who tried to break it, and left it on the groundwithout taking it, for, by my faith, had he known it he would neverhave left it behind. keep it safe, my friend, for just now i have noneed of it; indeed, i shall have to take off all this armour andremain as naked as i was born, if i have a mind to follow rndrather than amadis in my penance."
µÚ41Ò³ thus talking they reached the foot of a high mountain which stoodlike an isted peak among the others that surrounded it. past itsbase there flowed a gentle brook, all around it spread a meadow sogreen and luxuriant that it was a delight to the eyes to look upon it,and forest trees in abundance, and shrubs and flowers, added to the²årms of the spot. upon this ce the knight of the ruefulcountenance fixed his choice for the performance of his penance, andas he beheld it eximed in a loud voice as though he were out of hissenses: "this is the ce, oh, ye heavens, that i select and choose forbewailing the misfortune in which ye yourselves have plunged me:this is the spot where the overflowings of mine eyes shall swell thewaters of yon little brook, and my deep and endless sighs shall stirunceasingly the leaves of these mountain trees, in testimony and tokenof the pain my persecuted heart is suffering. oh, ye rural deities,whoever ye be that haunt this lone spot, give ear to theintof a wretched lover whom long absence and brooding jealousy havedriven to bewail his fate among these wilds andin of the hardheart of that fair and ungrateful one, the end and limit of allhuman beauty! oh, ye wood nymphs and dryads, that dwell in thethickets of the forest, so may the nimble wanton satyrs by whom ye arevainly wooed never disturb your sweet repose, help me toment myhard fate or at least weary not at listening to it! oh, dulcinea deltoboso, day of my night, glory of my pain, guide of my path, star ofmy fortune, so may heaven grant thee in full all thou seekest of it,bethink thee of the ce and condition to which absence from thee hasbrought me, and make that return in kindness that is due to myfidelity! oh, lonely trees, that from this day forward shall bear mpany in my solitude, give me some sign by the gentle movement ofyour boughs that my presence is not distasteful to you! oh, thou, mysquire, pleasantpanion in my prosperous and adverse fortunes,fix well in thy memory what thou shalt see me do here, so that thoumayest rte and report it to the sole cause of all," and so sayinghe dismounted from rocinante, and in an instant relieved him of saddleand bridle, and giving him a p on the croup, said, "he gives theefreedom who is bereft of it himself, oh steed as excellent in deedas thou art unfortunate in thy lot; begone where thou wilt, for thoubearest written on thy forehead that neither astolfos hippogriff, northe famed frontino that cost bradamante so dear, could equal thee inspeed." seeing this sancho said, "good luck to him who has saved us thetrouble of stripping the pack-saddle off dapple! by my faith hewould not have gone without a p on the croup and something saidin his praise; though if he were here i would not let anyone striphim, for there would be no asion, as he had nothing of the lover orvictim of despair about him, inasmuch as his master, which i was whileit was gods pleasure, was nothing of the sort; and indeed, sir knightof the rueful countenance, if my departure and your worshipsmadness are toe off in earnest, it will be as well to saddlerocinante again in order that he may supply the want of dapple,because it will save me time in going and returning: for if i go onfoot i dont know when i shall get there or when i shall get back,as i am, in truth, a bad walker." "i dere, sancho," returned don quixote, "it shall be as thouwilt, for thy n does not seem to me a bad one, and three days hencethou wilt depart, for i wish thee to observe in the meantime what i doand say for her sake, that thou mayest be able to tell it." "but what more have i to see besides what i have seen?" said sancho. "much thou knowest about it!" said don quixote. "i have now got totear up my garments, to scatter about my armour, knock my head againstthese rocks, and more of the same sort of thing, which thou mustwitness." "for the love of god," said sancho, "be careful, your worship, howyou give yourself those knocks on the head, for you maye acrosssuch a rock, and in such a way, that the very first may put an endto the whole contrivance of this penance; and i should think, ifindeed knocks on the head seem necessary to you, and this businesscannot be done without them, you might be content -as the wholething is feigned, and counterfeit, and in joke- you might becontent, i say, with giving them to yourself in the water, oragainst something soft, like cotton; and leave it all to me; forill tell mydy that your worship knocked your head against apoint of rock harder than a diamond." "i thank thee for thy good intentions, friend sancho," answereddon quixote, "but i would have thee know that all these things i amdoing are not in joke, but very much in earnest, for anything elsewould be a transgression of the ordinances of chivalry, which forbidus to tell any lie whatever under the penalties due to apostasy; andto do one thing instead of another is just the same as lying; so myknocks on the head must be real, solid, and valid, without anythingsophisticated or fanciful about them, and it will be needful toleave me some lint to dress my wounds, since fortune haspelledus to do without the balsam we lost." "it was worse losing the ass," replied sancho, "for with him lintand all were lost; but i beg of your worship not to remind me again ofthat ursed liquor, for my soul, not to say my stomach, turns athearing the very name of it; and i beg of you, too, to reckon aspast the three days you allowed me for seeing the mad things you do,for i take them as seen already and pronounced upon, and i will tellwonderful stories to mydy; so write the letter and send me off atonce, for i long to return and take your worship out of this purgatorywhere i am leaving you." "purgatory dost thou call it, sancho?" said don quixote, "rathercall it hell, or even worse if there be anything worse." "for one who is in hell," said sancho, "nu est retentio, as ihave heard say." "i do not understand what retentio means," said don quixote. "retentio," answered sancho, "means that whoever is in hell nevees nor cane out of it, which will be the opposite case withyour worship or my legs will be idle, that is if i have spurs toenliven rocinante: let me once get to el toboso and into thepresence of mydy dulcinea, and i will tell her such things of thefollies and madnesses £¨for it is all one£© that your worship has doneand is still doing, that i will manage to make her softer than a glovethough i find her harder than a cork tree; and with her sweet andhoneyed answer i wille back through the air like a witch, and takeyour worship out of this purgatory that seems to be hell but is not,as there is hope of getting out of it; which, as i have said, those inhell have not, and i believe your worship will not say anything to thecontrary." "that is true," said he of the rueful countenance, "but how shall wemanage to write the letter?" "and the ass-colt order too," added sancho. "all shall be included," said don quixote; "and as there is nopaper, it would be well done to write it on the leaves of trees, asthe ancients did, or on tablets of wax; though that would be as hardto find just now as paper. but it has just urred to me how it maybe conveniently and even more than conveniently written, and that isin the note-book that belonged to cardenio, and thou wilt take care tohave it copied on paper, in a good hand, at the first vige thoest to where there is a schoolmaster, or if not, any sacristan willcopy it; but see thou give it not to any notary to copy, for theywrite aw hand that satan could not make out." "but what is to be done about the signature?" said sancho. "the letters of amadis were never signed," said don quixote. "that is all very well," said sancho, "but the order must needs besigned, and if it is copied they will say the signature is false,and i shall be left without ass-colts." "the order shall go signed in the same book," said don quixote, "andon seeing it my niece will make no difficulty about obeying it; asto the loveletter thou canst put by way of signature, yours tilldeath, the knight of the rueful countenance. and it will be nogreat matter if it is in some other persons hand, for as well as irecollect dulcinea can neither read nor write, nor in the whole courseof her life has Éä seen handwriting or letter of mine, for my loveand hers have been always tonic, not going beyond a modest look,and even that so seldom that i can safely swear i have not seen herfour times in all these twelve years i have been loving her morethan the light of these eyes that the earth will one day devour; andperhaps even of those four times Éä has not once perceived that i waslooking at her: such is the retirement and seclusion in which herfather lorenzo corchuelo and her mother aldonza nogales have broughther up." "so, so!" said sancho; "lorenzo corchuelos daughter is thedydulcinea del toboso, otherwise called aldonza lorenzo?" "Éä it is," said don quixote, "and Éä it is that is worthy to bdy of the whole universe." "i know her well," said sancho, "and let me tell you Éä can fling acrowbar as well as the lustiestd in all the town. giver of allgood! but Éä is a bravess, and a right and stout one, and fit tobe helpmate to any knight-errant that is or is to be, who may make herhisdy: the whoreson wench, what sting Éä has and what a voice! ican tell you one day Éä posted herself on the top of the belfry ofthe vige to call somebourers of theirs that were in a ploughedfield of her fathers, and though they were better than half aleague off they heard her as well as if they were at the foot of thetower; and the best of her is that Éä is not a bit prudish, for Éähas plenty of affability, and jokes with everybody, and has a grin anda jest for everything. so, sir knight of the rueful countenance, i sayyou not only may and ought to do mad freaks for her sake, but you havea good right to give way to despair and hang yourself; and no onewho knows of it but will say you did well, though the devil shouldtake you; and i wish i were on my road already, simply to see her, forit is many a day since i saw her, and Éä must be altered by thistime, for going about the fields always, and the sun and the air spoilwomens looks greatly. but i must own the truth to your worship, senordon quixote; until now i have been under a great mistake, for ibelieved truly and honestly that thedy dulcinea must be someprincess your worship was in love with, or some person great enough todeserve the rich presents you have sent her, such as the biscayanand the galley ves, and many more no doubt, for your worship musthave won many victories in the time when i was not yet your squire.but all things considered, what good can it do thedy aldonzalorenzo, i mean thedy dulcinea del toboso, to have the vanquiÉädyour worship sends or will sending to her and going down ontheir knees before her? because may be when they came Éäd behackling x or threshing on the threshing floor, and theyd beashamed to see her, and Éädugh, or resent the present."
µÚ42Ò³ "i have before now told thee many times, sancho," said donquixote, "that thou art a mighty great ²åtterer, and that with ablunt wit thou art always striving at sharpness; but to show thee whata fool thou art and how rational i am, i would have thee listen to ashort story. thou must know that a certain widow, fair, young,independent, and rich, and above all free and easy, fell in lovewith a sturdy strapping youngy-brother; his superior came to knowof it, and one day said to the worthy widow by way of brotherlyremonstrance, i am surprised, senora, and not without good reason,that a woman of such high standing, so fair, and so rich as you are,should have fallen in love with such a mean, low, stupid fellow asso-and-so, when in this house there are so many masters, graduates,and divinity students from among whom you might choose as if they werea lot of pears, saying this one ill take, that i wont take; but Éäreplied to him with great sprightliness and candour, my dear sir, youare very much mistaken, and your ideas are very old-fashioned, ifyou think that i have made a bad choice in so-and-so, fool as heseems; because for all i want with him he knows as much and morephilosophy than aristotle. in the same way, sancho, for all i wantwith dulcinea del toboso Éä is just as good as the most exaltedprincess on earth. it is not to be supposed that all those poets whosang the praises ofdies under the fancy names they give them, hadany such mistresses. thinkest thou that the amarillises, thephillises, the sylvias, the dianas, the gteas, the filidas, and allthe rest of them, that the books, the bads, the barbers shops, thetheatres are full of, were really and trulydies of flesh and blood,and mistresses of those that glorify and have glorified them?nothing of the kind; they only invent them for the most part tofurnish a subject for their verses, and that they may pass for lovers,or for men valiant enough to be so; and so it suffices me to think andbelieve that the good aldonza lorenzo is fair and virtuous; and asto her pedigree it is very little matter, for no one will examine intoit for the purpose of conferring any order upon her, and i, for mypart, reckon her the most exalted princess in the world. for thoushouldst know, sancho, if thou dost not know, that two things alonebeyond all others are incentives to love, and these are great beautyand a good name, and these two things are to be found in dulcinea inthe highest degree, for in beauty no one equals her and in good namefew approach her; and to put the whole thing in a nutÉäll, i persuademyself that all i say is as i say, neither more nor less, and ipicture her in my imagination as i would have her to be, as well inbeauty as in condition; helen approaches her not nor does lucretie up to her, nor any other of the famous women of times past,greek, barbarian, ortin; and let each say what he will, for if inthis i am taken to task by the ignorant, i shall not be censured bythe critical." "i say that your worship is entirely right," said sancho, "andthat i am an ass. but i know not how the name of ass came into mymouth, for a rope is not to be mentioned in the house of him who hasbeen hanged; but now for the letter, and then, god be with you, i amoff." don quixote took out the note-book, and, retiring to one side,very deliberately began to write the letter, and when he hadfiniÉäd it he called to sancho, saying he wiÉäd to read it to him,so that he mightmit it to memory, in case of losing it on theroad; for with evil fortune like his anything might be apprehended. towhich sancho replied, "write it two or three times there in the bookand give it to me, and i will carry it very carefully, because toexpect me to keep it in my memory is all nonsense, for i have such abad one that i often forget my own name; but for all that repeat it tome, as i shall like to hear it, for surely it will run as if it was inprint." "listen," said don quixote, "this is what it says: "don quixotes letter to dulcinea del toboso "sovereign and exalteddy,- the pierced by the point of absence,the wounded to the hearts core, sends thee, sweetest dulcinea deltoboso, the health that he himself enjoys not. if thy beautydespises me, if thy worth is not for me, if thy scorn is myaffliction, though i be sufficiently long-suffering, hardly shall iendure this anxiety, which, besides being oppressive, is protracted.my good squire sancho will rte to thee in full, fair ingrate,dear enemy, the condition to which i am reduced on thy ount: ifit be thy pleasure to give me relief, i am thine; if not, do as may bepleasing to thee; for by ending my life i shall satisfy thy crueltyand my desire. "thine till death, "the knight of the rueful countenance." "by the life of my father," said sancho, when he heard the letter,"it is the loftiest thing i ever heard. body of me! how your worshipsays everything as you like in it! and how well you fit in the knightof the rueful countenance into the signature. i dere yourworship is indeed the very devil, and there is nothing you dontknow." "everything is needed for the calling i follow," said don quixote. "now then," said sancho, "let your worship put the order for thethree ass-colts on the other side, and sign it very inly, that theymay recognise it at first sight." "with all my heart," said don quixote, and as he had written it heread it to this effect: "mistress niece,- by this first of ass-colts please pay to sanchopanza, my squire, three of the five i left at home in your ²årge:said three ass-colts to be paid and delivered for the same numberreceived here in hand, which upon this and upon his receipt shall beduly paid. done in the heart of the sierra morena, thetwenty-seventh of august of this present year." "that will do," said sancho; "now let your worship sign it." "there is no need to sign it," said don quixote, "but merely toput my flourish, which is the same as a signature, and enough forthree asses, or even three hundred." "i can trust your worship," returned sancho; "let me go and saddlerocinante, and be ready to give me your blessing, for i mean to goat once without seeing the fooleries your worship is going to do; illsay i saw you do so many that Éä will not want any more." "at any rate, sancho," said don quixote, "i should like- and thereis reason for it- i should like thee, i say, to see me stripped to theskin and performing a dozen or two of insanities, which i can get donein less than half an hour; for having seen them with thine own eyes,thou canst then safely swear to the rest that thou wouldst add; andi promise thee thou wilt not tell of as many as i mean to perform." "for the love of god, master mine," said sancho, "let me not seeyour worship stripped, for it will sorely grieve me, and i shall notbe able to keep from tears, and my head aches so with all i Éäst night for dapple, that i am not fit to begin any fresh weeping;but if it is your worships pleasure that i should see someinsanities, do them in your clothes, short ones, and such asereadiest to hand; for i myself want nothing of the sort, and, as ihave said, it will be a saving of time for my return, which will bewith the news your worship desires and deserves. if not, let thdy dulcinea look to it; if Éä does not answer reasonably, i swearas solemnly as i can that i will fetch a fair answer out of herstomach with kicks and cuffs; for why should it be borne that aknight-errant as famous as your worship should go mad without rhyme orreason for a -? herdyship had best not drive me to say it, for bygod i will speak out and let off everything cheap, even if itdoesnt sell: i am pretty good at that! Éä little knows me; faith, ifÉä knew me Éäd be in awe of me." "in faith, sancho," said don quixote, "to all appearance thou art nosounder in thy wits than i." "i am not so mad," answered sancho, "but i am more peppery; butapart from all this, what has your worship to eat until ie back?will you sally out on the road like cardenio to force it from theÉäpherds?" "let not that anxiety trouble thee," replied don quixote, "foreven if i had it i should not eat anything but the herbs and thefruits which this meadow and these trees may yield me; the beauty ofthis business of mine lies in not eating, and in performing othermortifications." "do you know what i am afraid of?" said sancho upon this; "that ishall not be able to find my way back to this spot where i amleaving you, it is such an out-of-the-way ce." "observe thendmarks well," said don quixote, "for i will trynot to go far from this neighbourhood, and i will even take care tomount the highest of these rocks to see if i can discover theereturning; however, not to miss me and lose thyself, the best nwill be to cut some branches of the broom that is so abundant abouthere, and as thou goest toy them at intervals until thou hase out upon the in; these will serve thee, after the fashion ofthe clue in thebyrinth of theseus, as marks and signs for findingme on thy return." "so i will," said sancho panza, and having cut some, he asked hismasters blessing, and not without many tears on both sides, tookhis leave of him, and mounting rocinante, of whom don quixote²årged him earnestly to have as much care as of his own person, heset out for the in, strewing at intervals the branches of broomas his master had rmended him; and so he went his way, thoughdon quixote still entreated him to see him do were it only a couple ofmad acts. he had not gone a hundred paces, however, when he returnedand said:
µÚ43Ò³ "i must say, senor, your worship said quite right, that in orderto be able to swear without a weight on my conscience that i hadseen you do mad things, it would be well for me to see if it were onlyone; though in your worships remaining here i have seen a verygreat one." "did i not tell thee so?" said don quixote. "wait, sancho, and iwill do them in the saying of a credo," and pulling off his breechesin all haste he stripped himself to his skin and his shirt, andthen, without more ado, he cut a couple of gambados in the air, anda couple of somersaults, heels over head, making such a disythat, not to see it a second time, sancho wheeled rocinante round, andfelt easy, and satisfied in his mind that he could swear he had lefthis master mad; and so we will leave him to follow his road untilhis return, which was a quick one. ²åpter xxvi in which are continued the refinements wherewith don quixoteyed the part of a lover in the sierra morena returning to the proceedings of him of the rueful countenance whenhe found himself alone, the history says that when don quixote hapleted the performance of the somersaults or capers, naked from thewaist down and clothed from the waist up, and saw that sancho had goneoff without waiting to see any more crazy feats, he climbed up tothe top of a high rock, and there set himself to consider what hehad several times before considered without evering to anyconclusion on the point, namely whether it would be better and more tohis purpose to imitate the outrageous madness of rnd, or themncholy madness of amadis; andmuning with himself he said: "what wonder is it if rnd was so good a knight and so valiantas everyone says he was, when, after all, he was en²ånted, and nobodycould kill him save by thrusting a corking pin into the sole of hisfoot, and he always wore shoes with seven iron soles? though cunningdevices did not avail him against bernardo del carpio, who knew about them, and strangled him in his arms at roncesvalles. but puttingthe question of his valour aside, let use to his losing hiswits, for certain it is that he did lose them in consequence of theproofs he discovered at the fountain, and the intelligence theÉäpherd gave him of angelica having slept more than two siestaswith medoro, a little curly-headed moor, and page to agramante. ifhe was persuaded that this was true, and that hisdy had wrongedhim, it is no wonder that he should have gone mad; but i, how am ito imitate him in his madness, unless i can imitate him in the causeof it? for my dulcinea, i will venture to swear, never saw a moor inher life, as he is, in his proper costume, and Éä is this day asthe mother that bore her, and i should inly be doing her a wrongif, fancying anything else, i were to go mad with the same kind ofmadness as rnd the furious. on the other hand, i see that amadis ofgaul, without losing his senses and without doing anything mad,acquired as a lover as much fame as the most famous; for, ording tohis history, on finding himself rejected by hisdy oriana, who hadordered him not to appear in her presence until it should be herpleasure, all he did was to retire to the pena pobre inpany with ahermit, and there he took his fill of weeping until heaven sent himrelief in the midst of his great grief and need. and if this betrue, as it is, why should i now take the trouble to strip starknaked, or do mischief to these trees which have done me no harm, orwhy am i to disturb the clear waters of these brooks which will giveme to drink whenever i have a mind? long live the memory of amadis andlet him be imitated so far as is possible by don quixote of man²å,of whom it will be said, as was said of the other, that if he didnot achieve great things, he died in attempting them; and if i amnot repulsed or rejected by my dulcinea, it is enough for me, as ihave said, to be absent from her. and so, now to business;e tomy memory ye deeds of amadis, and show me how i am to begin to imitateyou. i know already that what he chiefly did was to pray andmendhimself to god; but what am i to do for a rosary, for i have not gotone?" and then it urred to him how he might make one, and that was bytearing a great strip off the tail of his shirt which hung down, andmaking eleven knots on it, one bigger than the rest, and this servedhim for a rosary all the time he was there, during which he repeatedcountless ave-marias. but what distressed him greatly was not havinganother hermit there to confess him and receive constion from;and so he sced himself with pacing up and down the little meadow,and writing and carving on the bark of the trees and on the finesand a multitude of verses all in harmony with his sadness, and somein praise of dulcinea; but, when he was found there afterwards, theonly onespletely legible that could be discovered were thosethat follow here: ye on the mountain side that grow, ye green things all, trees, shrubs, and buÉäs, are ye aweary of the woe that this poor aching bosom cruÉäs? if it disturb you, and i owe some reparation, it may be a defence for me to let you know don quixotes tears are on the flow, and all for distant dulcinea del toboso. the lealest lover time can show, doomed for ady-love tonguish, among these solitudes doth go, a prey to every kind of anguish. why love should like a spiteful foe thus use him, he hath no idea, but hogÉäads full- this doth he know- don quixotes tears are on the flow, and all for distant dulcinea del toboso. adventure-seeking doth he go up rugged heights, down rocky valleys, but hill or dale, or high or low, mishap attendeth all his sallies: love still pursues him to and fro, and plies his cruel scourge- ah me! a relentless fate, an endless woe; don quixotes tears are on the flow, and all for distant dulcinea del toboso. the addition of "del toboso" to dulcineas name gave rise to nolittleughter among those who found the above lines, for theysuspected don quixote must have fancied that unless he added "deltoboso" when he introduced the name of dulcinea the verse would beunintelligible; which was indeed the fact, as he himself afterwardsadmitted. he wrote many more, but, as has been said, these threeverses were all that could be inly and perfectly deciphered. inthis way, and in sighing and calling on the fauns and satyrs of thewoods and the nymphs of the streams, and echo, moist and mournful,to answer, console, and hear him, as well as in looking for herbs tosustain him, he passed his time until sanchos return; and had thatbeen dyed three weeks, as it was three days, the knight of therueful countenance would have worn such an altered countenance thatthe mother that bore him would not have known him: and here it will bewell to leave him, wrapped up in sighs and verses, to rte howsancho panza fared on his mission. as for him,ing out upon the high road, he made for el toboso,and the next day reached the inn where the mishap of the nket hadbefallen him. as soon as he recognised it he felt as if he were oncemore living through the air, and he could not bring himself to enterit though it was an hour when he might well have done so, for it wasdinner-time, and he longed to taste something hot as it had been allcold fare with him for many days past. this craving drove him todraw near to the inn, still undecided whether to go in or not, andas he was hesitating there came out two persons who at once recognisedhim, and said one to the other: "senor licentiate, is not he on the horse there sancho panza who,our adventurers housekeeper told us, went off with her master asesquire?" "so it is," said the licentiate, "and that is our friend donquixotes horse;" and if they knew him so well it was because theywere the curate and the barber of his own vige, the same who hadcarried out the scrutiny and sentence upon the books; and as soon asthey recognised sancho panza and rocinante, being anxious to hear ofdon quixote, they approached, and calling him by his name the curatesaid, "friend sancho panza, where is your master?" sancho recognised them at once, and determined to keep secret thece and circumstances where and under which he had left hismaster, so he replied that his master was engaged in a certain quarteron a certain matter of great importance to him which he could notdisclose for the eyes in his head. "nay, nay," said the barber, "if you dont tell us where he is,sancho panza, we will suspect as we suspect already, that you havemurdered and robbed him, for here you are mounted on his horse; infact, you must produce the master of the hack, or else take theconsequences." "there is no need of threats with me," said sancho, "for i am nota man to rob or murder anybody; let his own fate, or god who made him,kill each one; my master is engaged very much to his taste doingpenance in the midst of these mountains; and then, offhand and withoutstopping, he told them how he had left him, what adventures hadbefallen him, and how he was carrying a letter to thedy dulcineadel toboso, the daughter of lorenzo corchuelo, with whom he was overhead and ears in love. they were both amazed at what sancho panza toldthem; for though they were aware of don quixotes madness and thenature of it, each time they heard of it they were filled with freshwonder. they then asked sancho panza to show them the letter he wascarrying to thedy dulcinea del toboso. he said it was written ina note-book, and that his masters directions were that he should haveit copied on paper at the first vige he came to. on this the curatesaid if he showed it to him, he himself would make a fair copy ofit. sancho put his hand into his bosom in search of the note-bookbut could not find it, nor, if he had been searching until now,could he have found it, for don quixote had kept it, and had nevergiven it to him, nor had he himself thought of asking for it. whensancho discovered he could not find the book his face grew deadlypale, and in great haste he again felt his body all over, and seeinginly it was not to be found, without more ado he seized his beardwith both hands and plucked away half of it, and then, as quick aÉä could and without stopping, gave himself half a dozen cuffs onthe face and nose till they were bathed in blood.
µÚ44Ò³ seeing this, the curate and the barber asked him what had happenedhim that he gave himself such rough treatment. "what should happen me?" replied sancho, "but to have lost fromone hand to the other, in a moment, three ass-colts, each of them likea castle?" "how is that?" said the barber. "i have lost the note-book," said sancho, "that contained the letterto dulcinea, and an order signed by my master in which he directed hisniece to give me three ass-colts out of four or five he had athome;" and he then told them about the loss of dapple. the curate consoled him, telling him that when his master wasfound he would get him to renew the order, and make a fresh draft onpaper, as was usual and customary; for those made in notebooks werenever epted or honoured. sanchoforted himself with this, and said if that were so theloss of dulcineas letter did not trouble him much, for he had italmost by heart, and it could be taken down from him wherever andwhenever they liked. "repeat it then, sancho," said the barber, "and we will write itdown afterwards." sancho panza stopped to scratch his head to bring back the letter tohis memory, and bnced himself now on one foot, now the other, onemoment staring at the ground, the next at the sky, and after havinghalf gnawed off the end of a finger and kept them in suspensewaiting for him to begin, he said, after a long pause, "by god,senor licentiate, devil a thing can i recollect of the letter; butit said at the beginning, exalted and scrubbingdy." "it cannot have said scrubbing," said the barber, "butsuperhuman or sovereign." "that is it," said sancho; "then, as well as i remember, it went on,the wounded, and wanting of sleep, and the pierced, kisses yourworships hands, ungrateful and very unrecognised fair one; and itsaid something or other about health and sickness that he wassending her; and from that it went tailing off until it ended withyours till death, the knight of the rueful countenance." it gave them no little amusement, both of them, to see what a goodmemory sancho had, and theyplimented him greatly upon it, andbegged him to repeat the letter a couple of times more, so that theytoo might get it by heart to write it out by-and-by. sancho repeatedit three times, and as he did, uttered three thousand moreabsurdities; then he told them more about his master but he never saida word about the nketing that had befallen himself in that inn,into which he refused to enter. he told them, moreover, how hislord, if he brought him a favourable answer from thedy dulcinea deltoboso, was to put himself in the way of endeavouring to be anemperor, or at least a monarch; for it had been so settled betweenthem, and with his personal worth and the might of his arm it was aneasy matter toe to be one: and how on bing one his lord was tomake a marriage for him £¨for he would be a widower by that time, asa matter of course£© and was to give him as a wife one of the damselsof the empress, the heiress of some rich and grand state on themaind, having nothing to do with inds of any sort, for he didnot care for them now. all this sancho delivered with so mucposure- wiping his nose from time to time- and with so littlmon-sense that his two hearers were again filled with wonder at theforce of don quixotes madness that could run away with this poormans reason. they did not care to take the trouble of disabusinghim of his error, as they considered that since it did not in anyway hurt his conscience it would be better to leave him in it, andthey would have all the more amusement in listening to hissimplicities; and so they bade him pray to god for his lordÉäalth, as it was a very likely and a very feasible thing for him incourse of time toe to be an emperor, as he said, or at least anarchbishop or some other dignitary of equal rank. to which sancho made answer, "if fortune, sirs, should bringthings about in such a way that my master should have a mind,instead of being an emperor, to be an archbishop, i should like toknow what archbishops-errantmonly give their squires?" "theymonly give them," said the curate, some simple beneficeor cure, or some ce as sacristan which brings them a good fixedie, not counting the altar fees, which may be reckoned at asmuch more." "but for that," said sancho, "the squire must be unmarried, and mustknow, at any rate, how to help at mass, and if that be so, woe isme, for i am married already and i dont know the first letter ofthe a b c. what will be of me if my master takes a fancy to bean archbishop and not an emperor, as is usual and customary withknights-errant?" "be not uneasy, friend sancho," said the barber, "for we willentreat your master, and advise him, even urging it upon him as a caseof conscience, to be an emperor and not an archbishop, becauseit will be easier for him as he is more valiant than lettered." "so i have thought," said sancho; "though i can tell you he is fitfor anything: what i mean to do for my part is to pray to our lordto ce him where it may be best for him, and where he may be able tobestow most favours upon me." "you speak like a man of sense," said the curate, "and you will beacting like a good christian; but what must now be done is to takesteps to coax your master out of that useless penance you say he isperforming; and we had best turn into this inn to consider what nto adopt, and also to dine, for it is now time." sancho said they might go in, but that he would wait thereoutside, and that he would tell them afterwards the reason why hewas unwilling, and why it did not suit him to enter it; but bebegged them to bring him out something to eat, and to let it be hot,and also to bring barley for rocinante. they left him and went in, andpresently the barber brought him out something to eat. by-and-by,after they had between them carefully thought over what they should doto carry out their object, the curate hit upon an idea very wedapted to humour don quixote, and effect their purpose; and hisnotion, which he exined to the barber, was that he himself shouldassume the disguise of a wandering damsel, while the other shouldtry as best he could to pass for a squire, and that they should thusproceed to where don quixote was, and he, pretending to be anaggrieved and distressed damsel, should ask a favour of him, whi²ås a valiant knight-errant he could not refuse to grant; and thefavour he meant to ask him was that he should apany her whitherÉä would conduct him, in order to redress a wrong which a wickedknight had done her, while at the same time Éä should entreat him notto require her to remove her mask, nor ask her any question touchingher circumstances until he had righted her with the wicked knight. andhe had no doubt that don quixote wouldply with any request made inthese terms, and that in this way they might remove him and take himto his own vige, where they would endeavour to find out if hisextraordinary madness admitted of any kind of remedy. ²åpter xxvii of how the curate and the barber proceeded with their scheme;together with other matters worthy of record in this great history the curates n did not seem a bad one to the barber, but on thecontrary so good that they immediately set about putting it inexecution. they begged a petticoat and hood of thendy, leavingher in pledge a new cassock of the curates; and the barber made abeard out of a grey-brown or red ox-tail in which thendlord used tostick hisb. thendy asked them what they wanted thesethings for, and the curate told her in a few words about the madnessof don quixote, and how this disguise was intended to get him awayfrom the mountain where he then was. thendlord andndyimmediately came to the conclusion that the madman was their guest,the balsam man and master of the nketed squire, and they told thecurate all that had passed between him and them, not omitting whatsancho had been so silent about. finally thendy dressed up thecurate in a style that left nothing to be desired; Éä put on him acloth petticoat with ck velvet stripes a palm broad, all Éäd,and a bodice of green velvet set off by a binding of white satin,which as well as the petticoat must have been made in the time of kingwamba. the curate would not let them hood him, but put on his head alittle quilted linen cap which he used for a night-cap, and boundhis forehead with a strip of ck silk, while with another he madea mask with which he concealed his beard and face very well. he thenput on his hat, which was broad enough to serve him for an umbre,and enveloping himself in his cloak seated himself woman-fashion onhis mule, while the barber mounted his with a beard down to thewaist of mingled red and white, for it was, as has been said, the tailof a y-red ox. they took leave of all, and of the good maritornes, who, sinner asÉä was, promised to pray a rosary of prayers that god might grantthem sess in such an arduous and christian undertaking as that theyhad in hand. but hardly had he sallied forth from the inn when itstruck the curate that he was doing wrong in rigging himself out inthat fashion, as it was an indecorous thing for a priest to dresshimself that way even though much might depend upon it; and sayingso to the barber he begged him to ²ånge dresses, as it was fitterhe should be the distressed damsel, while he himself would y thesquires part, which would be less derogatory to his dignity;otherwise he was resolved to have nothing more to do with thematter, and let the devil take don quixote. just at this moment sanchocame up, and on seeing the pair in such a costume he was unable torestrain hisughter; the barber, however, agreed to do as the curatewiÉäd, and, altering their n, the curate went on to instruct himhow to y his part and what to say to don quixote to induce anpel him toe with them and give up his fancy for the ce hehad chosen for his idle penance. the barber told him he could manageit properly without any instruction, and as he did not care to dresshimself up until they were near where don quixote was, he folded upthe garments, and the curate adjusted his beard, and they set outunder the guidance of sancho panza, who went along telling them of theencounter with the madman they met in the sierra, saying nothing,however, about the finding of the valise and its contents; for withall his simplicity thed was a trifle covetous.
µÚ45Ò³ the next day they reached the ce where sancho hadid thebroom-branches as marks to direct him to where he had left his master,and recognising it he told them that here was the entrance, and thatthey would do well to dress themselves, if that was required todeliver his master; for they had already told him that going in thisguise and dressing in this way were of the highest importance in orderto rescue his master from the pernicious life he had adopted; and they²årged him strictly not to tell his master who they were, or thathe knew them, and should he ask, as ask he would, if he had giventhe letter to dulcinea, to say that he had, and that, as Éä did notknow how to read, Éä had given an answer by word of mouth, sayingthat Éämanded him, on pain of her displeasure, toe and seeher at once; and it was a very important matter for himself, becausein this way and with what they meant to say to him they felt sure ofbringing him back to a better mode of life and inducing him to takeimmediate steps to be an emperor or monarch, for there was no fearof his bing an archbishop. all this sancho listened to and fixedit well in his memory, and thanked them heartily for intending tormend his master to be an emperor instead of an archbishop, for hefelt sure that in the way of bestowing rewards on their squiresemperors could do more than archbishops-errant. he said, too, thatit would be as well for him to go on before them to find him, and givehim hisdys answer; for that perhaps might be enough to bring himaway from the ce without putting them to all this trouble. theyapproved of what sancho proposed, and resolved to wait for him untilhe brought back word of having found his master. sancho puÉäd on into the glens of the sierra, leaving them in hrough which there flowed a little gentle rivulet, and where therocks and trees afforded a cool and grateful shade. it was an augustday with all the heat of one, and the heat in those parts isintense, and the hour was three in the afternoon, all which made thespot the more inviting and tempted them to wait there for sanchosreturn, which they did. they were reposing, then, in the shade, when avoice unapanied by the notes of any instrument, but sweet andpleasing in its tone, reached their ears, at which they were not alittle astoniÉäd, as the ce did not seem to them likely quartersfor one who sang so well; for though it is often said that Éäpherdsof rare voice are to be found in the woods and fields, this israther a flight of the poets fancy than the truth. and still moresurprised were they when they perceived that what they heard sung werethe verses not of rustic Éäpherds, but of the poliÉäd wits of thecity; and so it proved, for the verses they heard were these: what makes my quest of happiness seem vain? disdain. what bids me to abandon hope of ease? jealousies. what holds my heart in anguish of suspense? absence. if that be so, then for my grief where shall i turn to seek relief, when hope on every side lies in by absence, jealousies, disdain? what the prime cause of all my woe doth prove? love. what at my glory ever looks askance? ²ånce. whence is permission to afflict me given? heaven. if that be so, i but await the stroke of a resistless fate, since, working for my woe, these three, love, ²ånce and heaven, in league i see. what must i do to find a remedy? die. what is the lure for love when coy and strange? ²ånge. what, if all fail, will cure the heart of sadness? madness. if that be so, it is but folly to seek a cure for mncholy: ask where it lies; the answer saith in ²ånge, in madness, or in death. the hour, the summer season, the solitary ce, the voice and skillof the singer, all contributed to the wonder and delight of the twolisteners, who remained still waiting to hear something more; finding,however, that the silence continued some little time, they resolved togo in search of the musician who sang with so fine a voice; but justas they were about to do so they were checked by the same voice, whichonce more fell upon their ears, singing this so when heavenward, holy friendship, thou didst go soaring to seek thy home beyond the sky, and take thy seat among the saints on high, it was thy will to leave on earth below thy semnce, and upon it to bestow thy veil, wherewith at times hypocrisy, parading in thy shape, deceives the eye, and makes its vileness bright as virtue show. friendship, return to us, or force the cheat that wears it now, thy livery to restore, by aid whereof sincerity is in. if thou wilt not unmask thy counterfeit, this earth will be the prey of strife once more, as when primaeval discord held its reign. the song ended with a deep sigh, and again the listeners remainedwaiting attentively for the singer to resume; but perceiving thatthe music had now turned to sobs and heart-rending moans theydetermined to find out who the unhappy being could be whose voicewas as rare as his sighs were piteous, and they had not proceededfar when on turning the corner of a rock they discovered a man ofthe same aspect and appearance as sancho had described to them when hetold them the story of cardenio. he, showing no astonishment when hesaw them, stood still with his head bent down upon his breast like onein deep thought, without raising his eyes to look at them after thefirst nce when they suddenly came upon him. the curate, who wasaware of his misfortune and recognised him by the description, being aman of good address, approached him and in a few sensible wordsentreated and urged him to quit a life of such misery, lest heshould end it there, which would be the greatest of all misfortunes.cardenio was then in his right mind, free from any attack of thatmadness which so frequently carried him away, and seeing themdressed in a fashion so unusual among the frequenters of thosewilds, could not help showing some surprise, especially when heheard them speak of his case as if it were a well-known matter £¨forthe curates words gave him to understand as much£© so he replied tothem thus: "i see inly, sirs, whoever you may be, that heaven, whose care itis to sour the good, and even the wicked very often, here, inthis remote spot, cut off from human intercourse, sends me, though ideserve it not, those who seek to draw me away from this to somebetter retreat, showing me by many and forcible arguments howunreasonably i act in leading the life i do; but as they know, that ifi escape from this evil i shall fall into another still greater,perhaps they will set me down as a weak-minded man, or, what is worse,one devoid of reason; nor would it be any wonder, for i myself canperceive that the effect of the recollection of my misfortunes is sogreat and works so powerfully to my ruin, that in spite of myself ibe at times like a stone, without feeling or consciousness; andie to feel the truth of it when they tell me and show me proofs ofthe things i have done when the terrible fit overmasters me; and all ican do is bewail my lot in vain, and idly curse my destiny, andplead for my madness by telling how it was caused, to any that care tohear it; for no reasonable beings on learning the cause will wonder atthe effects; and if they cannot help me at least they will not meme, and the repugnance they feel at my wild ways will turn into pityfor my woes. if it be, sirs, that you are here with the same design asothers havee wah, before you proceed with your wise arguments, ientreat you to hear the story of my countless misfortunes, for perhapswhen you have heard it you will spare yourselves the trouble you wouldtake in offering constion to grief that is beyond the reach of it." as they, both of them, desired nothing more than to hear from hisown lips the cause of his suffering, they entreated him to tell it,promising not to do anything for his relief orfort that he did notwish; and thereupon the unhappy gentleman began his sad story innearly the same words and manner in which he had rted it to donquixote and the goatherd a few days before, when, through masterelisabad, and don quixotes scrupulous observance of what was due tochivalry, the tale was left unfiniÉäd, as this history has alreadyrecorded; but now fortunately the mad fit kept off, allowed him totell it to the end; and so,ing to the incident of the note whichdon fernando had found in the volume of "amadis of gaul," cardeniosaid that he remembered it perfectly and that it was in these words: "luscinda to cardenio. "every day i discover merits in you that oblige andpel me tohold you in higher estimation; so if you desire to relieve me ofthis obligation without cost to my honour, you may easily do so. ihave a father who knows you and loves me dearly, who without puttingany constraint on my inclination will grant what will be reasonablefor you to have, if it be that you value me as you say and as ibelieve you do." "by this letter i was induced, as i told you, to demand luscinda formy wife, and it was through it that luscinda came to be regarded bydon fernando as one of the most discreet and prudent women of the day,and this letter it was that suggested his design of ruining mebefore mine could be carried into effect. i told don fernando that allluscindas father was waiting for was that mine should ask her of him,which i did not dare to suggest to him, fearing that he would notconsent to do so; not because he did not know perfectly well the rank,goodness, virtue, and beauty of luscinda, and that Éä had qualitiesthat would do honour to any family in spain, but because i was awarethat he did not wish me to marry so soon, before seeing what theduke ricardo would do for me. in short, i told him i did not ventureto mention it to my father, as well on ount of that difficulty,as of many others that discouraged me though i knew not well what theywere, only that it seemed to me that what i desired was never te to pass. to all this don fernando answered that he would takeit upon himself to speak to my father, and persuade him to speak toluscindas father. o, ambitious marius! o, cruel catiline! o, wickedsy! o, perfidious ganelon! o, treacherous vellido! o, vindictivejulian! o, covetous judas! traitor, cruel, vindictive, and perfidious,wherein had this poor wretch failed in his fidelity, who with suchfrankness showed thee the secrets and the joys of his heart? whatoffence did imit? what words did i utter, or what counsels did igive that had not the furtherance of thy honour and welfare fortheir aim? but, woe is me, wherefore do iin? for sure it isthat when misfortunes spring from the stars, descending from on highthey fall upon us with such fury and violence that no power on earthcan check their course nor human device stay theiring. who couldhave thought that don fernando, a highborn gentleman, intelligent,bound to me by gratitude for my services, one that could win theobject of his love wherever he might set his affections, could havebe so obdurate, as they say, as to rob me of my one ewembthat was not even yet in my possession? butying aside these uselessand unavailing reflections, let us take up the broken thread of myunhappy story.
µÚ46Ò³ "to proceed, then: don fernando finding my presence an obstacle tothe execution of his treacherous and wicked design, resolved to sendme to his elder brother under the pretext of asking money from himto pay for six horses which, purposely, and with the sole object ofsending me away that he might the better carry out his infernalscheme, he had pur²åsed the very day he offered to speak to myfather, and the price of which he now desired me to fetch. could ihave anticipated this treachery? could i by any ²ånce havesuspected it? nay; so far from that, i offered with the greatestpleasure to go at once, in my satisfaction at the good bargain thathad been made. that night i spoke with luscinda, and told her what hadbeen agreed upon with don fernando, and how i had strong hopes ofour fair and reasonable wiÉäs being realised. Éä, as unsuspicious asi was of the treachery of don fernando, bade me try to returnspeedily, as Éä believed the fulfilment of our desires would bedyed only so long as my father put off speaking to hers. i know notwhy it was that on saying this to me her eyes filled with tears, andthere came a lump in her throat that prevented her from uttering aword of many more that it seemed to me Éä was striving to say tome. i was astoniÉäd at this unusual turn, which i never beforeobserved in her. for we always conversed, whenever good fortune and myingenuity gave us the ²ånce, with the greatest gaiety andcheerfulness, mingling tears, sighs, jealousies, doubts, or fears withour words; it was all on my part a eulogy of my good fortune thatheaven should have given her to me for my mistress; i glorified herbeauty, i extolled her worth and her understanding; and Éä paid meback by praising in me what in her love for me Éä thought worthy ofpraise; and besides we had a hundred thousand trifles and doings ofour neighbours and acquaintances to talk about, and the utmostextent of my boldness was to take, almost by force, one of her fairwhite hands and carry it to my lips, as well as the closeness of thelow grating that separated us allowed me. but the night before theunhappy day of my departure Éä wept, Éä moaned, Éä sighed, andÉä withdrew leaving me filled with perplexity and amazement,overwhelmed at the sight of such strange and affecting signs ofgrief and sorrow in luscinda; but not to dash my hopes i ascribed itall to the depth of her love for me and the pain that separation givesthose who love tenderly. atst i took my departure, sad anddejected, my heart filled with fancies and suspicions, but not knowingwell what it was i suspected or fancied; in omens pointing to thesad event and misfortune that was awaiting me. "i reached the ce whither i had been sent, gave the letter to donfernandos brother, and was kindly received but not promptlydismissed, for he desired me to wait, very much against my will, eightdays in some ce where the duke his father was not likely to see me,as his brother wrote that the money was to be sent without hisknowledge; all of which was a scheme of the treacherous donfernando, for his brother had no want of money to enable him todespatch me at once. "themand was one that exposed me to the temptation of disobeyingit, as it seemed to me impossible to endure life for so many daysseparated from luscinda, especially after leaving her in the sorrowfulmood i have described to you; nevertheless as a dutiful servant iobeyed, though i felt it would be at the cost of my well-being. butfour dayster there came a man in quest of me with a letter which hegave me, and which by the address i perceived to be from luscinda,as the writing was hers. i opened it with fear and trepidation,persuaded that it must be something serious that had impelled her towrite to me when at a distance, as Éä seldom did so when i wasnear. before reading it i asked the man who it was that had given itto him, and how long he had been upon the road; he told me that aÉä happened to be passing through one of the streets of the city atthe hour of noon, a very beautifuldy called to him from a window,and with tears in her eyes said to him hurriedly, brother, if youare, as you seem to be, a christian, for the love of god i entreat youto have this letter despatched without a moments dy to the ceand person named in the address, all which is well known, and bythis you will render a great service to our lord; and that you maybe at no inconvenience in doing so take what is in this handkerchief;and said he, with this Éä threw me a handkerchief out of thewindow in which were tied up a hundred reals and this gold ringwhich i bring here together with the letter i have given you. and thenwithout waiting for any answer Éä left the window, though notbefore Éä saw me take the letter and the handkerchief, and i had bysigns let her know that i would do as Éä bade me; and so, seeingmyself so well paid for the trouble i would have in bringing it toyou, and knowing by the address that it was to you it was sent £¨for,senor, i know you very well£©£¬ and also unable to resist that beautifudys tears, i resolved to trust no one else, but toe myselfand give it to you, and in sixteen hours from the time when it wasgiven me i have made the journey, which, as you know, is eighteenleagues. "all the while the good-natured improvised courier was telling methis, i hung upon his words, my legs trembling under me so that icould scarcely stand. however, i opened the letter and read thesewords: "the promise don fernando gave you to urge your father to speakto mine, he has fulfilled much more to his own satisfaction than toyour advantage. i have to tell you, senor, that be has demanded me fora wife, and my father, led away by what he considers don fernandossuperiority over you, has favoured his suit so cordially, that intwo days hence the betrothal is to take ce with such secrecy and soprivately that the only witnesses are to be the heavens above and afew of the household. picture to yourself the state i am in; judgeif it be urgent for you toe; the issue of the affair will show youwhether i love you or not. god grant this maye to your hand beforemine shall be forced to link itself with his who keeps so ill thefaith that he has pledged. "such, in brief, were the words of the letter, words that made meset out at once without waiting any longer for reply or money; for inow saw clearly that it was not the pur²åse of horses but of hisown pleasure that had made don fernando send me to his brother. theexasperation i felt against don fernando, joined with the fear oflosing the prize i had won by so many years of love and devotion, lentme wings; so that almost flying i reached home the same day, by thehour which served for speaking with luscinda. i arrived unobserved,and left the mule on which i hade at the house of the worthy manwho had brought me the letter, and fortune was pleased to be foronce so kind that i found luscinda at the grating that was the witnessof our loves. Éä recognised me at once, and i her, but not as Éäought to have recognised me, or i her. but who is there in the worldthat can boast of having fathomed or understood the wavering mindand unstable nature of a woman? of a truth no one. to proceed: as soonas luscinda saw me Éä said, cardenio, i am in my bridal dress, andthe treacherous don fernando and my covetous father are waiting for mein the hall with the other witnesses, who shall be the witnesses of mydeath before they witness my betrothal. be not distressed, myfriend, but contrive to be present at this sacrifice, and if thatcannot be prevented by my words, i have a dagger concealed whichwill prevent more deliberate violence, putting an end to my life andgiving thee a first proof of the love i have borne and bear thee. ireplied to her distractedly and hastily, in fear lest i should nothave time to reply, may thy words be verified by thy deeds,dy; andif thou hast a dagger to save thy honour, i have a sword to defendthee or kill myself if fortune be against us. "i think Éä could not have heard all these words, for i perceivedthat they called her away in haste, as the bridegroom was waiting. nowthe night of my sorrow set in, the sun of my happiness went down, ifelt my eyes bereft of sight, my mind of reason. i could not enter thehouse, nor was i capable of any movement; but reflecting how importantit was that i should be present at what might take ce on theasion, i nerved myself as best i could and went in, for i well knewall the entrances and outlets; and besides, with the confusion that insecret pervaded the house no one took notice of me, so, withoutbeing seen, i found an opportunity of cing myself in the recessformed by a window of the hall itself, and concealed by the ends andborders of two tapestries, from between which i could, without beingseen, see all that took ce in the room. who could describe theagitation of heart i suffered as i stood there- the thoughts that cameto me- the reflections that passed through my mind? they were su²ås cannot be, nor were it well they should be, told. suffice it to saythat the bridegroom entered the hall in his usual dress, withoutornament of any kind; as groomsman he had with him a cousin ofluscindas and except the servants of the house there was no oneelse in the ²åmber. soon afterwards luscinda came out from anante²åmber, attended by her mother and two of her damsels, arrayedand adorned as became her rank and beauty, and in full festival andceremonial attire. my anxiety and distraction did not allow me toobserve or notice particrly what Éä wore; i could only perceivethe colours, which were crimson and white, and the glitter of the gemsand jewels on her head dress and apparel, surpassed by the rare beautyof her lovely auburn hair that vying with the precious stones andthe light of the four torches that stood in the hall shone with abrighter gleam than all. oh memory, mortal foe of my peace! whybring before me now the iparable beauty of that adored enemy ofmine? were it not better, cruel memory, to remind me and recall whatÉä then did, that stirred by a wrong so ring i may seek, if notvengeance now, at least to rid myself of life? be not weary, sirs,of listening to these digressions; my sorrow is not one of thosethat can or should be told tersely and briefly, for to me eachincident seems to call for many words."
µÚ47Ò³ to this the curate replied that not only were they not weary oflistening to him, but that the details he mentioned interested themgreatly, being of a kind by no means to be omitted and deserving ofthe same attention as the main story. "to proceed, then," continued cardenio: "all being assembled inthe hall, the priest of the parish came in and as he took the pairby the hand to perform the requisite ceremony, at the words, willyou, senora luscinda, take senor don fernando, here present, foryourwful husband, as the holy mother church ordains? i thrust myhead and neck out from between the tapestries, and with eager ears andthrobbing heart set myself to listen to luscindas answer, awaiting inher reply the sentence of death or the grant of life. oh, that i hadbut dared at that moment to rush forward crying aloud, luscinda,luscinda! have a care what thou dost; remember what thou owest me;bethink thee thou art mine and canst not be anothers; reflect thatthy utterance of "yes" and the end of my life wille at the sameinstant. o, treacherous don fernando! robber of my glory, death ofmy life! what seekest thou? remember that thou canst not as achristian attain the object of thy wiÉäs, for luscinda is my bride,and i am her husband! fool that i am! now that i am far away, and outof danger, i say i should have done what i did not do: now that i haveallowed my precious treasure to be robbed from me, i curse the robber,on whom i might have taken vengeance had i as much heart for it as ihave for bewailing my fate; in short, as i was then a coward and afool, little wonder is it if i am now dying shame-stricken,remorseful, and mad. "the priest stood waiting for the answer of luscinda, who for a longtime withheld it; and just as i thought Éä was taking out thedagger to save her honour, or struggling for words to make somederation of the truth on my behalf, i heard her say in a faintand feeble voice, i will: don fernando said the same, and giving herthe ring they stood linked by a knot that could never be loosed. thebridegroom then approached to embrace his bride; and Éä, pressing herhand upon her heart, fell fainting in her mothers arms. it onlyremains now for me to tell you the state i was in when in that consentthat i heard i saw all my hopes mocked, the words and promises ofluscinda proved falsehoods, and the recovery of the prize i had thatinstant lost rendered impossible for ever. i stood stupefied, whollyabandoned, it seemed, by heaven, dered the enemy of the earththat bore me, the air refusing me breath for my sighs, the watermoisture for my tears; it was only the fire that gathered strengthso that my whole frame glowed with rage and jealousy. they were allthrown into confusion by luscindas fainting, and as her mother wasucing her to give her air a sealed paper was discovered in herbosom which don fernando seized at once and began to read by the lightof one of the torches. as soon as he had read it he seated himselfin a ²åir, leaning his cheek on his hand in the attitude of onedeep in thought, without taking any part in the efforts that werebeing made to recover his bride from her fainting fit. "seeing all the household in confusion, i ventured toe outregardless whether i were seen or not, and determined, if i were, todo some frenzied deed that would prove to all the world therighteous indignation of my breast in the punishment of thetreacherous don fernando, and even in that of the fickle faintingtraitress. but my fate, doubtless reserving me for greater sorrows, ifsuch there be, so ordered it that just then i had enough and tospare of that reason which has since been wanting to me; and so,without seeking to take vengeance on my greatest enemies £¨whichmight have been easily taken, as all thought of me was so far fromtheir minds£©£¬ i resolved to take it upon myself, and on myself toinflict the pain they deserved, perhaps with even greater severitythan i should have dealt out to them had i then in them; for suddenpain is soon over, but that which is protracted by tortures is everying without ending life. in a word, i quitted the house andreached that of the man with whom i had left my mule; i made himsaddle it for me, mounted without bidding him farewell, and rode outof the city, like another lot, not daring to turn my head to look backupon it; and when i found myself alone in the open country, screenedby the darkness of the night, and tempted by the stillness to givevent to my grief without apprehension or fear of being heard orseen, then i broke silence and lifted up my voice in maledictions uponluscinda and don fernando, as if i could thus avenge the wrong theyhad done me. i called her cruel, ungrateful, false, thankless, butabove all covetous, since the wealth of my enemy had blinded theeyes of her affection, and turned it from me to transfer it to o whom fortune had been more generous and liberal. and yet, in themidst of this outburst of execration and upbraiding, i found excusesfor her, saying it was no wonder that a young girl in the seclusion ofher parents house, trained and schooled to obey them always, shouldhave been ready to yield to their wiÉäs when they offered her for ahusband a gentleman of such distinction, wealth, and noble birth, thatif Éä had refused to ept him Éä would have been thought out ofher senses, or to have set her affection elsewhere, a suspicioninjurious to her fair name and fame. but then again, i said, had Éädered i was her husband, they would have seen that in choosing meÉä had not chosen so ill but that they might excuse her, for beforedon fernando had made his offer, they themselves could not havedesired, if their desires had been ruled by reason, a more eligiblehusband for their daughter than i was; and Éä, before taking thestfatal step of giving her hand, might easily have said that i hadalready given her mine, for i should havee forward to supportany assertion of hers to that effect. in short, i came to theconclusion that feeble love, little reflection, great ambition, anda craving for rank, had made her forget the words with which Éä haddeceived me, encouraged and supported by my firm hopes andhonourable passion. "thus soliloquising and agitated, i journeyed onward for theremainder of the night, and by daybreak i reached one of the passes ofthese mountains, among which i wandered for three days more withouttaking any path or road, until i came to some meadows lying on iknow not which side of the mountains, and there i inquired of someherdsmen in what direction the most rugged part of the rangey. theytold me that it was in this quarter, and i at once directed mycourse hither, intending to end my life here; but as i was making myway among these crags, my mule dropped dead through fatigue andhunger, or, as i think more likely, in order to have done with su²å worthless burden as it bore in me. i was left on foot, worn out,famishing, without anyone to help me or any thought of seeking help:and so thus iy stretched on the ground, how long i know not,after which i rose up free from hunger, and found beside me somegoatherds, who no doubt were the persons who had relieved me in myneed, for they told me how they had found me, and how i had beenuttering ravings that showed inly i had lost my reason; and sincethen i am conscious that i am not always in full possession of it, butat times so deranged and crazed that i do a thousand mad things,tearing my clothes, crying aloud in these solitudes, cursing myfate, and idly calling on the dear name of her who is my enemy, andonly seeking to end my life inmentation; and when i recover mysenses i find myself so exhausted and weary that i can scarcelymove. mostmonly my dwelling is the hollow of a cork treergeenough to Éälter this miserable body; the herdsmen and goatherdswho frequent these mountains, moved bypassion, furnish me withfood, leaving it by the wayside or on the rocks, where they think imay perhaps pass and find it; and so, even though i may be then out ofmy senses, the wants of nature teach me what is required to sustainme, and make me crave it and eager to take it. at other times, so theytell me when they find me in a rational mood, i sally out upon theroad, and though they would dly give it me, i snatch food byforce from the Éäpherds bringing it from the vige to their huts.thus do pass the wretched life that remains to me, until it beheavens will to bring it to a close, or so to order my memory thati no longer recollect the beauty and treachery of luscinda, or thewrong done me by don fernando; for if it will do this withoutdepriving me of life, i will turn my thoughts into some better²ånnel; if not, i can only implore it to have full mercy on mysoul, for in myself i feel no power or strength to release my bodyfrom this strait in which i have of my own ord chosen to ce it. "such, sirs, is the dismal story of my misfortune: say if it beone that can be told with less emotion than you have seen in me; anddo not trouble yourselves with urging or pressing upon me whatreason suggests as likely to serve for my relief, for it will avail meas much as the medicine prescribed by a wise physician avails the sickman who will not take it. i have no wish for health withoutluscinda; and since it is her pleasure to be anothers, when Éä is orshould be mine, let it be mine to be a prey to misery when i mighthave enjoyed happiness. Éä by her fickleness strove to make my ruinirretrievable; i will strive to gratify her wiÉäs by seekingdestruction; and it will show generations toe that i alone wasdeprived of that of which all others in misfortune have asuperabundance, for to them the impossibility of being consoled isitself a constion, while to me it is the cause of greater sorrowsand sufferings, for i think that even in death there will not be anend of them."
µÚ48Ò³ here cardenio brought to a close his long discourse and story, asfull of misfortune as it was of love; but just as the curate was goingto address some words offort to him, he was stopped by a voicethat reached his ear, saying in mncholy tones what will be toldin the fourth part of this narrative; for at this point the sage andsagacious historian, cide hamete benengeli, brought the third to aconclusion. ²åpter xxviii which treats of the strange and delightful adventure that befell thecurate and the barber in the same sierra happy and fortunate were the times when that most daring knightdon quixote of man²å was sent into the world; for by reason of hishaving formed a resolution so honourable as that of seeking torevive and restore to the world the long-lost and almost defunct orderof knight-errantry, we now enjoy in this age of ours, so poor in lightentertainment, not only the ²årm of his veracious history, but alsoof the tales and episodes contained in it which are, in a measure,no less pleasing, ingenious, and truthful, than the history itself;which, resuming its thread, carded, spun, and wound, rtes that justas the curate was going to offer constion to cardenio, he wasinterrupted by a voice that fell upon his ear saying in intivetones: "o god! is it possible i have found a ce that may serve as asecret grave for the weary load of this body that i support sounwillingly? if the solitude these mountains promise deceives menot, it is so; ah! woe is me! how much more grateful to my mind willbe the society of these rocks and brakes that permit me toin ofmy misfortune to heaven, than that of any human being, for there isnone on earth to look to for counsel in doubt,fort in sorrow, orrelief in distress!" all this was heard distinctly by the curate and those with him,and as it seemed to them to be uttered close by, as indeed it was,they got up to look for the speaker, and before they had gone twentypaces they discovered behind a rock, seated at the foot of an ashtree, a youth in the dress of a peasant, whose face they were unableat the moment to see as he was leaning forward, bathing his feet inthe brook that flowed past. they approached so silently that he didnot perceive them, being fully upied in bathing his feet, whichwere so fair that they looked like two pieces of shining crystalbrought forth among the other stones of the brook. the whiteness andbeauty of these feet struck them with surprise, for they did notseem to have been made to crush clods or to follow the plough andthe oxen as their owners dress suggested; and so, finding they hadnot been noticed, the curate, who was in front, made a sign to theother two to conceal themselves behind some fragments of rock thatythere; which they did, observing closely what the youth was about.he had on a loose double-skirted dark brown jacket bound tight tohis body with a white cloth; he wore besides breeches and gaiters ofbrown cloth, and on his head a brown montera; and he had the gaitersturned up as far as the middle of the leg, which verily seemed to beof pure baster. as soon as he had done bathing his beautiful feet, he wiped themwith a towel he took from under the montera, on taking off which heraised his face, and those who were watching him had an opportunity ofseeing a beauty so exquisite that cardenio said to the curate in awhisper: "as this is not luscinda, it is no human creature but a divinebeing." the youth then took off the montera, and shaking his head fromside to side there broke loose and spread out a mass of hair thatthe beams of the sun might have envied; by this they knew that whathad seemed a peasant was a lovely woman, nay the most beautiful theeyes of two of them had ever beheld, or even cardenios if they hadnot seen and known luscinda, for he afterwards dered that onlythe beauty of luscinda couldpare with this. the long auburntresses not only covered her shoulders, but such was their lengthand abundance, concealed her all round beneath their masses, so thatexcept the feet nothing of her form was visible. Éä now used herhands as ab, and if her feet had seemed like bits of crystal inthe water, her hands looked like pieces of driven snow among herlocks; all which increased not only the admiration of the threebeholders, but their anxiety to learn who Éä was. with this objectthey resolved to show themselves, and at the stir they made in gettingupon their feet the fair damsel raised her head, and parting herhair from before her eyes with both hands, Éä looked to see who hadmade the noise, and the instant Éä perceived them Éä started toher feet, and without waiting to put on her shoes or gather up herhair, hastily snatched up a bundle as though of clothes that Éä hadbeside her, and, scared and rmed, endeavoured to take flight; butbefore Éä had gone six paces Éä fell to the ground, her delicatefeet being unable to bear the roughness of the stones; seeing which,the three hastened towards her, and the curate addressing her firstsaid: "stay, senora, whoever you may be, for those whom you see hereonly desire to be of service to you; you have no need to attempt aflight so heedless, for neither can your feet bear it, nor we allowit." taken by surprise and bewildered, Éä made no reply to thesewords. they, however, came towards her, and the curate taking her handwent on to say: "what your dress would hide, senora, is made known to us by yourhair; a clear proof that it can be no trifling cause that hasdisguised your beauty in a garb so unworthy of it, and sent it intosolitudes like these where we have had the good fortune to find you,if not to relieve your distress, at least to offer youfort; for nodistress, so long as lifests, can be so oppressive or reach su²å height as to make the sufferer refuse to listen tofort offeredwith good intention. and so, senora, or senor, or whatever youprefer to be, dismiss the fears that our appearance has caused you andmake us acquainted with your good or evil fortunes, for from all of ustogether, or from each one of us, you will receive sympathy in yourtrouble." while the curate was speaking, the disguised damsel stood as ifspell-bound, looking at them without opening her lips or uttering aword, just like a vige rustic to whom something strange that he hasnever seen before has been suddenly shown; but on the curateaddressing some further words to the same effect to her, sighingdeeply Éä broke silence and said: "since the solitude of these mountains has been unable to concealme, and the escape of my diÉävelled tresses will not allow mytongue to deal in falsehoods, it would be idle for me now to makeany further pretence of what, if you were to believe me, you wouldbelieve more out of courtesy than for any other reason. this being so,i say i thank you, sirs, for the offer you have made me, whichces me under the obligation ofplying with the request youhave made of me; though i fear the ount i shall give you of mymisfortunes will excite in you as much concern aspassion, foryou will be unable to suggest anything to remedy them or anyconstion to alleviate them. however, that my honour may not be lefta matter of doubt in your minds, now that you have discovered me to bea woman, and see that i am young, alone, and in this dress, thingsthat taken together or separately would be enough to destroy anygood name, i feel bound to tell what i would willingly keep secretif i could." all this Éä who was now seen to be a lovely woman delivered withoutany hesitation, with so much ease and in so sweet a voice that theywere not less ²årmed by her intelligence than by her beauty, and asthey again repeated their offers and entreaties to her to fulfil herpromise, Éä without further pressing, first modestly covering herfeet and gathering up her hair, seated herself on a stone with thethree ced around her, and, after an effort to restrain some tearsthat came to her eyes, in a clear and steady voice began her storythus: "in this andalusia there is a town from which a duke takes a titlewhich makes him one of those that are called grandees of spain. thisnobleman has two sons, the elder heir to his dignity and apparently tohis good qualities; the younger heir to i know not what, unless itbe the treachery of vellido and the falsehood of ganelon. my parentsare this lords vassals, lowly in origin, but so wealthy that if birthhad conferred as much on them as fortune, they would have hadnothing left to desire, nor should i have had reason to fear troublelike that in which i find myself now; for it may be that my illfortune came of theirs in not having been nobly born. it is truethey are not so low that they have any reason to be ashamed of theircondition, but neither are they so high as to remove from my mindthe impression that my mishapes of their humble birth. they are,in short, peasants, in homely people, without any taint ofdisreputable blood, and, as the saying is, old rusty christians, butso rich that by their wealth and free-handed way of life they aring by degrees to be considered gentlefolk by birth, and even byposition; though the wealth and nobility they thought most of washaving me for their daughter; and as they have no other child tomake their heir, and are affectionate parents, i was one of the mostindulged daughters that ever parents indulged. "i was the mirror in which they beheld themselves, the staff oftheir old age, and the object in which, with submission to heaven, alltheir wiÉäs centred, and mine were in ordance with theirs, for iknew their worth; and as i was mistress of their hearts, so was i alsoof their possessions. through me they engaged or dismissed theirservants; through my hands passed the ounts and returns of what wassown and reaped; the oil-mills, the wine-presses, the count of theflocks and herds, the beehives, all in short that a rich farmer likemy father has or can have, i had under my care, and i acted as stewardand mistress with an assiduity on my part and satisfaction on theirsthat i cannot well describe to you. the leisure hours left to me afteri had given the requisite orders to the head-Éäpherds, overseers, andotherbourers, i passed in such employments as are not onlyallowable but necessary for young girls, those that the needle,embroidery cushion, and spinning wheel usually afford, and if torefresh my mind i quitted them for a while, i found recreation inreading some devotional book or ying the harp, for experiencetaught me that music soothes the troubled mind and relievesweariness of spirit. such was the life i led in my parents houseand if i have depicted it thus minutely, it is not out of ostentation,or to let you know that i am rich, but that you may see how, withoutany fault of mine, i have fallen from the happy condition i havedescribed, to the misery i am in at present. the truth is, thatwhile i was leading this busy life, in a retirement that mightparewith that of a monastery, and unseen as i thought by any except theservants of the house £¨for when i went to mass it was so early inthe morning, and i was so closely attended by my mother and thewomen of the household, and so thickly veiled and so shy, that my eyesscarcely saw more ground than i trod on£©£¬ in spite of all this, theeyes of love, or idleness, more properly speaking, that the lynxscannot rival, discovered me, with the help of the assiduity of donfernando; for that is the name of the younger son of the duke i toldof."
µÚ49Ò³ the moment the speaker mentioned the name of don fernando,cardenio ²ånged colour and broke into a sweat, with such signs ofemotion that the curate and the barber, who observed it, feared thatone of the mad fits which they heard attacked him sometimes wasingupon him; but cardenio showed no further agitation and remained quiet,regarding the peasant girl with fixed attention, for he began tosuspect who Éä was. Éä, however, without noticing the excitementof cardenio, continuing her story, went on to say: "and they had hardly discovered me, when, as he owned afterwards, hewas smitten with a violent love for me, as the manner in which itdisyed itself inly showed. but to shorten the long recital of mywoes, i will pass over in silence all the artifices employed by donfernando for dering his passion for me. he bribed all thehousehold, he gave and offered gifts and presents to my parents; everyday was like a holiday or a merry-making in our street; by night noone could sleep for the music; the love letters that used toe tomy hand, no one knew how, were innumerable, full of tender pleadingsand pledges, containing more promises and oaths than there wereletters in them; all which not only did not soften me, but hardened myheart against him, as if he had been my mortal enemy, and as ifeverything he did to make me yield were done with the oppositeintention. not that the high-bred bearing of don fernando wasdisagreeable to me, or that i found his importunities wearisome; forit gave me a certain sort of satisfaction to find myself so sought andprized by a gentleman of such distinction, and i was not displeased atseeing my praises in his letters £¨for however ugly we women may be, itseems to me it always pleases us to hear ourselves called beautiful£©but that my own sense of right was opposed to all this, as well as therepeated advice of my parents, who now very inly perceived donfernandos purpose, for he cared very little if all the world knew it.they told me they trusted and confided their honour and good name tomy virtue and rectitude alone, and bade me consider the disparitybetween don fernando and myself, from which i might conclude thathis intentions, whatever he might say to the contrary, had for theiraim his own pleasure rather than my advantage; and if i were at alldesirous of opposing an obstacle to his unreasonable suit, they wereready, they said, to marry me at once to anyone i preferred, eitheramong the leading people of our own town, or of any of those in theneighbourhood; for with their wealth and my good name, a match mightbe looked for in any quarter. this offer, and their sound advicestrengthened my resolution, and i never gave don fernando a word inreply that could hold out to him any hope of sess, however remote. "all this caution of mine, which he must have taken for coyness, hadapparently the effect of increasing his wanton appetite- for that isthe name i give to his passion for me; had it been what he dered itto be, you would not know of it now, because there would have beenno asion to tell you of it. at length he learned that my parentswere contemting marriage for me in order to put an end to his hopesof obtaining possession of me, or at least to secure additionalprotectors to watch over me, and this intelligence or suspicion madehim act as you shall hear. one night, as i was in my ²åmber with nootherpanion than a damsel who waited on me, with the doorscarefully locked lest my honour should be imperilled through anycarelessness, i know not nor can conceive how it happened, but, withall this seclusion and these precautions, and in the solitude andsilence of my retirement, i found him standing before me, a visionthat so astounded me that it deprived my eyes of sight, and mytongue of speech. i had no power to utter a cry, nor, i think, didhe give me time to utter one, as he immediately approached me, andtaking me in his arms £¨for, overwhelmed as i was, i was powerless, isay, to help myself£©£¬ he began to make such professions to me that iknow not how falsehood could have had the power of dressing them up toseem so like truth; and the traitor contrived that his tears shouldvouch for his words, and his sighs for his sincerity. "i, a poor young creature alone, ill versed among my people in casessuch as this, began, i know not how, to think all these lyingprotestations true, though without being moved by his sighs andtears to anything more than purepassion; and so, as the firstfeeling of bewilderment passed away, and i began in some degree torecover myself, i said to him with more courage than i thought i couldhave possessed, if, as i am now in your arms, senor, i were in thews of a fierce lion, and my deliverance could be procured bydoing or saying anything to the prejudice of my honour, it would nomore be in my power to do it or say it, than it would be possible thatwhat was should not have been; so then, if you hold my body sped inyour arms, i hold my soul secured by virtuous intentions, verydifferent from yours, as you will see if you attempt to carry theminto effect by force. i am your vassal, but i am not your ve;your nobility neither has nor should have any right to dishonour ordegrade my humble birth; and low-born peasant as i am, i have myself-respect as much as you, a lord and gentleman: with me yourviolence will be to no purpose, your wealth will have no weight,your words will have no power to deceive me, nor your sighs or tearsto soften me: were i to see any of the things i speak of in him whommy parents gave me as a husband, his will should be mine, and mineshould be bounded by his; and my honour being preserved even though myinclinations were not would willingly yield him what you, senor, wouldnow obtain by force; and this i say lest you should suppose that anybut mywful husband shall ever win anything of me. if that,said this disloyal gentleman, be the only scruple you feel, fairestdorothea £¨for that is the name of this unhappy being£©£¬ see here igive you my hand to be yours, and let heaven, from which nothing ishid, and this image of ourdy you have here, be witnesses of thispledge." when cardenio heard her say Éä was called dorothea, he showed freshagitation and felt convinced of the truth of his former suspicion, buthe was unwilling to interrupt the story, and wiÉäd to hear the end ofwhat he already all but knew, so he merely said: "what! is dorothea your name, senora? i have heard of another of thesame name who can perhaps match your misfortunes. but proceed;by-and-by i may tell you something that will astonish you as much asit will excite yourpassion." dorothea was struck by cardenios words as well as by his strangeand miserable attire, and begged him if he knew anything concerningher to tell it to her at once, for if fortune had left her anyblessing it was courage to bear whatever cmity might fall upon her,as Éä felt sure that none could reach her capable of increasing inany degree what Éä endured already. "i would not let the asion pass, senora," replied cardenio, "oftelling you what i think, if what i suspect were the truth, but so farthere has been no opportunity, nor is it of any importance to you toknow it." "be it as it may," replied dorothea, "what happened in my storywas that don fernando, taking an image that stood in the ²åmber,ced it as a witness of our betrothal, and with the most bindingwords and extravagant oaths gave me his promise to be myhusband; though before he had made an end of pledging himself i badehim consider well what he was doing, and think of the anger his fatherwould feel at seeing him married to a peasant girl and one of hisvassals; i told him not to let my beauty, such as it was, blind him,for that was not enough to furnish an excuse for his transgression;and if in the love he bore me he wiÉäd to do me any kindness, itwould be to leave my lot to follow its course at the level mycondition required; for marriages so unequal never broughthappiness, nor did they continue long to afford the enjoyment theybegan with. "all this that i have now repeated i said to him, and much morewhich i cannot recollect; but it had no effect in inducing him toforego his purpose; he who has no intention of paying does not troublehimself about difficulties when he is striking the bargain. at thesame time i argued the matter briefly in my own mind, saying tomyself, i shall not be the first who has risen through marriagefrom a lowly to a lofty station, nor will don fernando be the firstwhom beauty or, as is more likely, a blind attachment, has led to matehimself below his rank. then, since i am introducing no new usage orpractice, i may as well avail myself of the honour that ²ånceoffers me, for even though his inclination for me should not oustthe attainment of his wiÉäs, i shall be, after all, his wife beforegod. and if i strive to repel him by scorn, i can see that, fair meansfailing, he is in a mood to use force, and i shall be left dishonouredand without any means of proving my innocence to those who cannot knowhow innocently i havee to be in this position; for whatarguments would persuade my parents that this gentleman entered my²åmber without my consent? "all these questions and answers passed through my mind in a moment;but the oaths of don fernando, the witnesses he appealed to, the tearÉä Éäd, andstly the ²årms of his person and his high-bredgrace, which, apanied by such signs of genuine love, might wellhave conquered a heart even more free and coy than mine- these werethe things that more than all began to influence me and lead meunawares to my ruin. i called my waiting-maid to me, that theremight be a witness on earth besides those in heaven, and again donfernando renewed and repeated his oaths, invoked as witnesses freshsaints in addition to the former ones, called down upon himself athousand curses hereafter should he fail to keep his promise, Éädmore tears, redoubled his sighs and pressed me closer in his arms,from which he had never allowed me to escape; and so i was left bymy maid, and ceased to be one, and he became a traitor and aperjured man.
µÚ50Ò³ "the day which followed the night of my misfortune did note soquickly, i imagine, as don fernando wiÉäd, for when desire hasattained its object, the greatest pleasure is to fly from the scene ofpleasure. i say so because don fernando made all haste to leave me,and by the adroitness of my maid, who was indeed the one who hadadmitted him, gained the street before daybreak; but on taking leaveof me he told me, though not with as much earnestness and fervour aswhen he came, that i might rest assured of his faith and of thesanctity and sincerity of his oaths; and to confirm his words hedrew a rich ring off his finger and ced it upon mine. he thentook his departure and i was left, i know not whether sorrowful orhappy; all i can say is, i was left agitated and troubled in mindand almost bewildered by what had taken ce, and i had not thespirit, or else it did not ur to me, to chide my maid for thetreachery Éä had been guilty of in concealing don fernando in my²åmber; for as yet i was unable to make up my mind whether what hadbefallen me was for good or evil. i told don fernando at parting, thatas i was now his, he might see me on other nights in the same way,until it should be his pleasure to let the matter be known; but,except the following night, he came no more, nor for more than a monthcould i catch a glimpse of him in the street or in church, while iwearied myself with watching for one; although i knew he was in thetown, and almost every day went out hunting, a pastime he was veryfond of. i remember well how sad and dreary those days and hourswere to me; i remember well how i began to doubt as they went by,and even to lose confidence in the faith of don fernando; and iremember, too, how my maid heard those words in reproof of heraudacity that Éä had not heard before, and how i was forced to puta constraint on my tears and on the expression of my countenance,not to give my parents cause to ask me why i was so mncholy, anddrive me to invent falsehoods in reply. but all this was suddenlybrought to an end, for the time came when all such considerations weredisregarded, and there was no further question of honour, when mypatience gave way and the secret of my heart became known abroad.the reason was, that a few dayster it was reported in the town thatdon fernando had been married in a neighbouring city to a maiden ofrare beauty, the daughter of parents of distinguiÉäd position, thoughnot so rich that her portion would entitle her to look for sobrilliant a match; it was said, too, that her name was luscinda, andthat at the betrothal some strange things had happened." cardenio heard the name of luscinda, but he only shrugged hisshoulders, bit his lips, bent his brows, and before long two streamsof tears escaped from his eyes. dorothea, however, did not interrupther story, but went on in these words: "this sad intelligence reached my ears, and, instead of being struckwith a chill, with such wrath and fury did my heart burn that iscarcely restrained myself from rushing out into the streets, cryingaloud and proiming openly the perfidy and treachery of which iwas the victim; but this transport of rage was for the time checked bya resolution i formed, to be carried out the same night, and thatwas to assume this dress, which i got from a servant of my fathers,one of the zagals, as they are called in farmhouses, to whom iconfided the whole of my misfortune, and whom i entreated to apanyme to the city where i heard my enemy was. he, though heremonstrated with me for my boldness, and condemned my resolution,when he saw me bent upon my purpose, offered to bear mepany, as hesaid, to the end of the world. i at once packed up in a linenpillow-case a womans dress, and some jewels and money to providefor emergencies, and in the silence of the night, without letting mytreacherous maid know, i sallied forth from the house, apaniedby my servant and abundant anxieties, and on foot set out for thecity, but borne as it were on wings by my eagerness to reach it, ifnot to prevent what i presumed to be already done, at least to callupon don fernando to tell me with what conscience he had done it. ireached my destination in two days and a half, and on entering thecity inquired for the house of luscindas parents. the first personi asked gave me more in reply than i sought to know; he showed methe house, and told me all that had urred at the betrothal of thedaughter of the family, an affair of such notoriety in the city thatit was the talk of every knot of idlers in the street. he said that onthe night of don fernandos betrothal with luscinda, as soon as Éähad consented to be his bride by saying yes, Éä was taken with asudden fainting fit, and that on the bridegroom approaching touce the bosom of her dress to give her air, he found a paper in herown handwriting, in which Éä said and dered that Éä could notbe don fernandos bride, because Éä was already cardenios, who,ording to the mans ount, was a gentleman of distinction ofthe same city; and that if Éä had epted don fernando, it wasonly in obedience to her parents. in short, he said, the words ofthe paper made it clear Éä meant to kill herself on thepletion ofthe betrothal, and gave her reasons for putting an end to herselfall which was confirmed, it was said, by a dagger they found somewherein her clothes. on seeing this, don fernando, persuaded thatluscinda had befooled, slighted, and trifled with him, assailed herbefore Éä had recovered from her swoon, and tried to stab her withthe dagger that had been found, and would have seeded had not herparents and those who were present prevented him. it was said,moreover, that don fernando went away at once, and that luscinda didnot recover from her prostration until the next day, when Éä told herparents how Éä was really the bride of that cardenio i havementioned. i learned besides that cardenio, ording to report, hadbeen present at the betrothal; and that upon seeing her betrothedcontrary to his expectation, he had quitted the city in despair,leaving behind him a letter dering the wrong luscinda had done him,and his intention of going where no one should ever see him again. allthis was a matter of notoriety in the city, and everyone spoke ofit; especially when it became known that luscinda was missing from herfathers house and from the city, for Éä was not to be foundanywhere, to the distraction of her parents, who knew not what stepsto take to recover her. what i learned revived my hopes, and i wasbetter pleased not to have found don fernando than to find himmarried, for it seemed to me that the door was not yet entirely shutupon relief in my case, and i thought that perhaps heaven had put thisimpediment in the way of the second marriage, to lead him to recognisehis obligations under the former one, and reflect that as achristian he was bound to consider his soul above all human objects.all this passed through my mind, and i strove tofort myselfwithoutfort, indulging in faint and distant hopes of cherishingthat life that i now abhor. "but while i was in the city, uncertain what to do, as i could notfind don fernando, i heard notice given by the public crier offering agreat reward to anyone who should find me, and giving theparticrs of my age and of the very dress i wore; and i heard itsaid that thed who came with me had taken me away from myfathers house; a thing that cut me to the heart, showing how low mygood name had fallen, since it was not enough that i should lose it bymy flight, but they must add with whom i had fled, and that one somuch beneath me and so unworthy of my consideration. the instant iheard the notice i quitted the city with my servant, who now beganto show signs of wavering in his fidelity to me, and the same night,for fear of discovery, we entered the most thickly wooded part ofthese mountains. but, as ismonly said, one evil calls up anotherand the end of one misfortune is apt to be the beginning of onestill greater, and so it proved in my case; for my worthy servant,until then so faithful and trusty when he found me in this lonelyspot, moved more by his own viiny than by my beauty, sought to takeadvantage of the opportunity which these solitudes seemed to presenthim, and with little shame and less fear of god and respect for me,began to make overtures to me; and finding that i replied to theeffrontery of his proposals with justly severenguage, heid asidethe entreaties which he had employed at first, and began to useviolence. but just heaven, that seldom fails to watch over and aidgood intentions, so aided mine that with my slight strength and withlittle exertion i puÉäd him over a precipice, where i left him,whether dead or alive i know not; and then, with greater speed thanseemed possible in my terror and fatigue, i made my way into themountains, without any other thought or purpose save that of hidingmyself among them, and escaping my father and those despatched insearch of me by his orders. it is now i know not how many months sincewith this object i came here, where i met a herdsman who engaged me ashis servant at a ce in the heart of this sierra, and all thistime i have been serving him as herd, striving to keep always afieldto hide these locks which have now unexpectedly betrayed me. but allmy care and pains were unavailing, for my master made the discoverythat i was not a man, and harboured the same base designs as myservant; and as fortune does not always supply a remedy in cases ofdifficulty, and i had no precipice or ravine at hand down which tofling the master and cure his passion, as i had in the servants case,i thought it a lesser evil to leave him and again conceal myself amongthese crags, than make trial of my strength and argument with him. so,as i say, once more i went into hiding to seek for some ce wherei might with sighs and tears implore heaven to have pity on my misery,and grant me help and strength to escape from it, or let me dieamong the solitudes, leaving no trace of an unhappy being who, by nofault of hers, has furniÉäd matter for talk and scandal at home andabroad."
µÚ51Ò³ ²åpter xxix which treats of the droll device and method adopted to extricate ourlove-stricken knight from the severe penance he had imposed uponhimself "such, sirs, is the true story of my sad adventures; judge foryourselves now whether the sighs andmentations you heard, and thetears that flowed from my eyes, had not sufficient cause even if i hadindulged in them more freely; and if you consider the nature of mymisfortune you will see that constion is idle, as there is nopossible remedy for it. all i ask of you is, what you may easily andreasonably do, to show me where i may pass my life unharassed by thefear and dread of discovery by those who are in search of me; forthough the great love my parents bear me makes me feel sure of beingkindly received by them, so great is my feeling of shame at the merethought that i cannot present myself before them as they expect,that i had rather banish myself from their sight for ever than lookthem in the face with the reflection that they beheld mine stripped ofthat purity they had a right to expect in me." with these words Éä became silent, and the colour that overspreadher face showed inly the pain and shame Éä was suffering at heart.in theirs the listeners felt as much pity as wonder at hermisfortunes; but as the curate was just about to offer her someconstion and advice cardenio forestalled him, saying, "so then,senora, you are the fair dorothea, the only daughter of the richclenardo?" dorothea was astoniÉäd at hearing her fathers name, andat the miserable appearance of him who mentioned it, for it has beenalready said how wretchedly d cardenio was; so Éä said to him: "and who may you be, brother, who seem to know my fathers name sowell? for so far, if i remember rightly, i have not mentioned it inthe whole story of my misfortunes." "i am that unhappy being, senora," replied cardenio, "whom, as youhave said, luscinda dered to be her husband; i am the unfortunatecardenio, whom the wrong-doing of him who has brought you to yourpresent condition has reduced to the state you see me in, bare,ragged, bereft of all humanfort, and what is worse, of reason, fori only possess it when heaven is pleased for some short space torestore it to me. i, dorothea, am he who witnessed the wrong done bydon fernando, and waited to hear the yes uttered by which luscindaowned herself his betrothed: i am he who had not courage enough to seehow her fainting fit ended, or what came of the paper that was foundin her bosom, because my heart had not the fortitude to endure so manystrokes of ill-fortune at once; and so losing patience i quitted thehouse, and leaving a letter with my host, which i entreated him toce in luscindas hands, i betook myself to these solitudes,resolved to end here the life i hated as if it were my mortal enemy.but fate would not rid me of it, contenting itself with robbing meof my reason, perhaps to preserve me for the good fortune i have hadin meeting you; for if that which you have just told us be true, asi believe it to be, it may be that heaven has yet in store for both ofus a happier termination to our misfortunes than we look for;because seeing that luscinda cannot marry don fernando, being mine, asÉä has herself so openly dered, and that don fernando cannot marryher as he is yours, we may reasonably hope that heaven will restore tous what is ours, as it is still in existence and not yet alienatedor destroyed. and as we have this constion springing from no veryvisionary hope or wild fancy, i entreat you, senora, to form newresolutions in your better mind, as i mean to do in mine, preparingyourself to look forward to happier fortunes; for i swear to you bythe faith of a gentleman and a christian not to desert you until i seeyou in possession of don fernando, and if i cannot by words induce himto recognise his obligation to you, in that case to avail myself ofthe right which my rank as a gentleman gives me, and with just cause²ållenge him on ount of the injury he has done you, notregarding my own wrongs, which i shall leave to heaven to avenge,while i on earth devote myself to yours." cardenios wordspleted the astonishment of dorothea, and notknowing how to return thanks for such an offer, Éä attempted tokiss his feet; but cardenio would not permit it, and the licentiatereplied for both,mended the sound reasoning of cardenio, anstly, begged, advised, and urged them toe with him to hisvige, where they might furnish themselves with what they needed,and take measures to discover don fernando, or restore dorothea to herparents, or do what seemed to them most advisable. cardenio anddorothea thanked him, and epted the kind offer he made them; andthe barber, who had been listening to all attentively and insilence, on his part some kindly words also, and with no lessgood-will than the curate offered his services in any way that mightbe of use to them. he also exined to them in a few words the objectthat had brought them there, and the strange nature of don quixotesmadness, and how they were waiting for his squire, who had gone insearch of him. like the recollection of a dream, the quarrel he hadhad with don quixote came back to cardenios memory, and hedescribed it to the others; but he was unable to say what thedispute was about. at this moment they heard a shout, and recognised it asingfrom sancho panza, who, not finding them where he had left them, wascalling aloud to them. they went to meet him, and in answer to theirinquiries about don quixote, be told them how he had found himstripped to his shirt,nk, yellow, half dead with hunger, andsighing for hisdy dulcinea; and although he had told him that manded him to quit that ce ande to el toboso, where Éäwas expecting him, he had answered that he was determined not toappear in the presence of her beauty until he had done deeds to makehim worthy of her favour; and if this went on, sancho said, he ran therisk of not bing an emperor as in duty bound, or even anarchbishop, which was the least he could be; for which reason theyought to consider what was to be done to get him away from there.the licentiate in reply told him not to be uneasy, for they wouldfetch him away in spite of himself. he then told cardenio and dorotheawhat they had proposed to do to cure don quixote, or at any ratetake him home; upon which dorothea said that Éä could y thedistressed damsel better than the barber; especially as Éä hadthere the dress in which to do it to the life, and that they mighttrust to her acting the part in every particr requisite forcarrying out their scheme, for Éä had read a great many books ofchivalry, and knew exactly the style in which afflicted damsels beggedboons of knights-errant. "in that case," said the curate, "there is nothing more requiredthan to set about it at once, for beyond a doubt fortune isdering itself in our favour, since it has so unexpectedly begunto open a door for your relief, and smoothed the way for us to ourobject." dorothea then took out of her pillow-case aplete petticoat ofsome rich stuff, and a green mantle of some other fine material, and ane and other ornaments out of a little box, and with these in aninstant Éä so arrayed herself that Éä looked like a great and ricdy. all this, and more, Éä said, Éä had taken from home in case ofneed, but that until then Éä had had no asion to make use of it.they were all highly delighted with her grace, air, and beauty, anddered don fernando to be a man of very little taste when herejected such ²årms. but the one who admired her most was sanchopanza, for it seemed to him £¨what indeed was true£© that in all thedays of his life he had never seen such a lovely creature; and heasked the curate with great eagerness who this beautifuldy was, andwhat Éä wanted in these out-of-the-way quarters. "this fairdy, brother sancho," replied the curate, "is no lessa personage than the heiress in the direct male line of the greatkingdom of micon, who hase in search of your master to beg aboon of him, which is that he redress a wrong or injury that awicked giant has done her; and from the fame as a good knight whichyour master has acquired far and wide, this princess hase fromguinea to seek him." "a lucky seeking and a lucky finding!" said sancho panza at this;"especially if my master has the good fortune to redress thatinjury, and right that wrong, and kill that son of a bitch of agiant your worship speaks of; as kill him he will if he meets him,unless, indeed, he happens to be a phantom; for my master has no powerat all against phantoms. but one thing among others i would beg ofyou, senor licentiate, which is, that, to prevent my master taking afancy to be an archbishop, for that is what im afraid of, yourworship would rmend him to marry this princess at once; for inthis way he will be disabled from taking archbishops orders, and willeasilye into his empire, and i to the end of my desires; i havebeen thinking over the matter carefully, and by what i can make outi find it will not do for me that my master should be anarchbishop, because i am no good for the church, as i am married;and for me now, having as i have a wife and children, to set aboutobtaining dispensations to enable me to hold a ce of profit underthe church, would be endless work; so that, senor, it all turns onmy master marrying thisdy at once- for as yet i do not know hergrace, and so i cannot call her by her name." "Éä is called the princess micona," said the curate; "for aÉär kingdom is micon, it is clear that must be her name."
µÚ52Ò³ "theres no doubt of that," replied sancho, "for i have known manyto take their name and title from the ce where they were born andcall themselves pedro of alc, juan of ubeda, and diego ofvadolid; and it may be that over there in guinea queens have thesame way of taking the names of their kingdoms." "so it may," said the curate; "and as for your masters marrying,i will do all in my power towards it:" with which sancho was as muchpleased as the curate was amazed at his simplicity and at seeingwhat a hold the absurdities of his master had taken of his fancy,for he had evidently persuaded himself that he was going to be anemperor. by this time dorothea had seated herself upon the curates mule, andthe barber had fitted the ox-tail beard to his face, and they now toldsancho to conduct them to where don quixote was, warning him not tosay that he knew either the licentiate or the barber, as hismasters bing an emperor entirely depended on his notrecognising them; neither the curate nor cardenio, however, thoughtfit to go with them; cardenio lest he should remind don quixote of thequarrel he had with him, and the curate as there was no necessityfor his presence just yet, so they allowed the others to go onbefore them, while they themselves followed slowly on foot. the curatedid not forget to instruct dorothea how to act, but Éä said theymight make their minds easy, as everything would be done exactly asthe books of chivalry required and described. they had gone about three-quarters of a league when theydiscovered don quixote in a wilderness of rocks, by this time clothed,but without his armour; and as soon as dorothea saw him and was toldby sancho that that was don quixote, Éä whipped her palfrey, thewell-bearded barber following her, and oning up to him hersquire sprang from his mule and came forward to receive her in hisarms, and Éä dismounting with great ease of manner advanced tokneel before the feet of don quixote; and though he strove to raiseher up, Éä without rising addressed him in this fashion: "from this spot i will not rise, valiant and doughty knight, untilyour goodness and courtesy grant me a boon, which will redound tothe honour and renown of your person and render a service to themost disconste and afflicted damsel the sun has seen; and if themight of your strong arm corresponds to the repute of your immortalfame, you are bound to aid the helpless being who, led by the savourof your renowned name, hathe from far distantnds to seek youraid in her misfortunes." "i will not answer a word, beauteousdy," replied don quixote,"nor will i listen to anything further concerning you, until yourise from the earth." "i will not rise, senor," answered the afflicted damsel, "unlessof your courtesy the boon i ask is first granted me." "i grant and ord it," said don quixote, "provided withoutdetriment or prejudice to my king, my country, or her who holds thekey of my heart and freedom, it may beplied with." "it will not be to the detriment or prejudice of any of them, myworthy lord," said the afflicted damsel; and here sancho panza drewclose to his masters ear and said to him very softly, "your worshipmay very safely grant the boon Éä asks; its nothing at all; onlyto kill a big giant; and Éä who asks it is the exalted princessmicona, queen of the great kingdom of micon of ethiopia." "let her be who Éä may," replied don quixote, "i will do what is mybounden duty, and what my conscience bids me, in conformity withwhat i have professed;" and turning to the damsel he said, "let yourgreat beauty rise, for i grant the boon which you would ask of me." "then what i ask," said the damsel, "is that your magnanimous personapany me at once whither i will conduct you, and that youpromise not to engage in any other adventure or quest until you haveavenged me of a traitor who against all human and divinew, hasusurped my kingdom." "i repeat that i grant it," replied don quixote; "and so,dy,you may from this day forthy aside the mncholy that distressesyou, and let your failing hopes gather new life and strength, for withthe help of god and of my arm you will soon see yourself restored toyour kingdom, and seated upon the throne of your ancient and mightyrealm, notwithstanding and despite of the felons who would gainsay it;and now hands to the work, for in dy there is apt to be danger." the distressed damsel strove with much pertinacity to kiss hishands; but don quixote, who was in all things a poliÉäd and courteousknight, would by no means allow it, but made her rise and embraced herwith great courtesy and politeness, and ordered sancho to look torocinantes girths, and to arm him without a moments dy. sanchotook down the armour, which was hung up on a tree like a trophy, andhaving seen to the girths armed his master in a trice, who as soonas he found himself in his armour eximed: "let us be gone in the name of god to bring aid to this greatdy." the barber was all this time on his knees at great pains to hide hiughter and not let his beard fall, for had it fallen maybe theirfine scheme would havee to nothing; but now seeing the boongranted, and the promptitude with which don quixote prepared to setout inpliance with it, he rose and took hisdys hand, andbetween them they ced her upon the mule. don quixote then mountedrocinante, and the barber settled himself on his beast, sancho beingleft to go on foot, which made him feel anew the loss of his dapple,finding the want of him now. but he bore all with cheerfulness,being persuaded that his master had now fairly started and was just onthe point of bing an emperor; for he felt no doubt at all thathe would marry this princess, and be king of micon at least. theonly thing that troubled him was the reflection that this kingdomwas in thend of the cks, and that the people they would give himfor vassals would be all ck; but for this he soon found a remedy inhis fancy, and said he to himself, "what is it to me if my vassals arecks? what more have i to do than make a cargo of them and carrythem to spain, where i can sell them and get ready money for them, andwith it buy some title or some office in which to live at ease all thedays of my life? not unless you go to sleep and havent the wit orskill to turn things to ount and sell three, six, or ten thousandvassals while you would he talking about it! by god i will stir themup, big and little, or as best i can, and let them be ever so ckill turn them into white or yellow.e,e, what a fool i am!"and so he jogged on, so upied with his thoughts and easy in hismind that he forgot all about the hardship of travelling on foot. cardenio and the curate were watching all this from among somebuÉäs, not knowing how to joinpany with the others; but thecurate, who was very fertile in devices, soon hit upon a way ofeffecting their purpose, and with a pair of scissors he had in acase he quickly cut off cardenios beard, and putting on him a greyjerkin of his own he gave him a ck cloak, leaving himself in hisbreeches and doublet, while cardenios appearance was so differentfrom what it had been that he would not have known himself had he seenhimself in a mirror. having effected this, although the others hadgone on ahead while they were disguising themselves, they easilycame out on the high road before them, for the brambles and awkwardces they encountered did not allow those on horseback to go as fastas those on foot. they then posted themselves on the level ground atthe outlet of the sierra, and as soon as don quixote and hipanions emerged from it the curate began to examine him verydeliberately, as though he were striving to recognise him, and afterhaving stared at him for some time he hastened towards him with openarms eximing, "a happy meeting with the mirror of chivalry, myworthypatriot don quixote of man²å, the flower and cream ofhigh breeding, the protection and relief of the distressed, thequintessence of knights-errant!" and so saying he sped in hisarms the knee of don quixotes left leg. he, astoniÉäd at thestrangers words and behaviour, looked at him attentively, and atlength recognised him, very much surprised to see him there, andmade great efforts to dismount. this, however, the curate would notallow, on which don quixote said, "permit me, senor licentiate, for itis not fitting that i should be on horseback and so reverend aperson as your worship on foot." "on no ount will i allow it," said the curate; "your mightinessmust remain on horseback, for it is on horseback you achieve thegreatest deeds and adventures that have been beheld in our age; as forme, an unworthy priest, it will serve me well enough to mount on thehaunches of one of the mules of these gentlefolk who apany yourworship, if they have no objection, and i will fancy i am mounted onthe steed pegasus, or on the zebra or ²årger that bore the famousmoor, muzaraque, who to this day lies en²ånted in the great hill ofzulema, a little distance from the greatplutum." "nor even that will i consent to, senor licentiate," answered donquixote, "and i know it will be the good pleasure of mydy theprincess, out of love for me, to order her squire to give up thesaddle of his mule to your worship, and he can sit behind if the beastwill bear it." "it will, i am sure," said the princess, "and i am sure, too, that ineed not order my squire, for he is too courteous and considerate toallow a churchman to go on foot when he might be mounted."
µÚ53Ò³ "that he is," said the barber, and at once alighting, he offered hissaddle to the curate, who epted it without much entreaty; butunfortunately as the barber was mounting behind, the mule, being as ithappened a hired one, which is the same thing as sayingill-conditioned, lifted its hind hoofs and let fly a couple of kicksin the air, which would have made master nichs wish hisexpedition in quest of don quixote at the devil had they caught him onthe breast or head. as it was, they so took him by surprise that hecame to the ground, giving so little heed to his beard that it felloff, and all he could do when he found himself without it was to coverhis face hastily with both his hands and moan that his teeth wereknocked out. don quixote when he saw all that bundle of bearddetached, without jaws or blood, from the face of the fallen squire,eximed: "by the living god, but this is a great miracle! it has knockedoff and plucked away the beard from his face as if it had beenshaved off designedly." the curate, seeing the danger of discovery that threatened hisscheme, at once pounced upon the beard and hastened with it to wheremaster nichsy, still uttering moans, and drawing his head to hisbreast had it on in an instant, muttering over him some words which hesaid were a certain special ²årm for sticking on beards, as theywould see; and as soon as he had it fixed he left him, and thesquire appeared well bearded and whole as before, whereat donquixote was beyond measure astoniÉäd, and begged the curate toteach him that ²årm when he had an opportunity, as he was persuadedits virtue must extend beyond the sticking on of beards, for it wasclear that where the beard had been stripped off the flesh must haveremained torn andcerated, and when it could heal all that it mustbe good for more than beards. "and so it is," said the curate, and he promised to teach it tohim on the first opportunity. they then agreed that for the presentthe curate should mount, and that the three should ride by turns untilthey reached the inn, which might be about six leagues from where theywere. three then being mounted, that is to say, don quixote, the princess,and the curate, and three on foot, cardenio, the barber, and sanchopanza, don quixote said to the damsel: "let your highness,dy, lead on whithersoever is most pleasingto you;" but before Éä could answer the licentiate said: "towards what kingdom would yourdyship direct our course? is itper²ånce towards that of micon? it must be, or else i know littleabout kingdoms." Éä, being ready on all points, understood that Éä was to answer"yes," so Éä said "yes, senor, my way lies towards that kingdom." "in that case," said the curate, "we must pass right through myvige, and there your worship will take the road to cartagena, whereyou will be able to embark, fortune favouring; and if the wind be fairand the sea smooth and tranquil, in somewhat less than nine yearsyou maye in sight of the greatke meona, i mean meotides,which is little more than a hundred days journey this side of yourhighnesss kingdom." "your worship is mistaken, senor," said Éä; "for it is not twoyears since i set out from it, and though i never had good weather,nevertheless i am here to behold what i so longed for, and that ismy lord don quixote of man²å, whose fame came to my ears as soonas i set foot in spain and impelled me to go in search of him, tmend myself to his courtesy, and entrust the justice of my cause tothe might of his invincible arm." "enough; no more praise," said don quixote at this, "for i hateall ttery; and though this may not be so, stillnguage of thekind is offensive to my ²åste ears. i will only say, senora, thatwhether it has might or not, that which it may or may not have shallbe devoted to your service even to death; and now, leaving this to itsproper season, i would ask the senor licentiate to tell me what itis that has brought him into these parts, alone, unattended, and solightly d that i am filled with amazement." "i will answer that briefly," replied the curate; "you must knowthen, senor don quixote, that master nichs, our friend andbarber, and i were going to seville to receive some money that artive of mine who went to the indies many years ago had sent me,and not such a small sum but that it was over sixty thousand pieces ofeight, full weight, which is something; and passing by this ceyesterday we were attacked by four footpads, who stripped us even toour beards, and them they stripped off so that the barber found itnecessary to put on a false one, and even this young man here"-pointing to cardenio- "theypletely transformed. but the best of itis, the story goes in the neighbourhood that those who attacked usbelong to a number of galley ves who, they say, were set freealmost on the very same spot by a man of such valour that, in spite ofthemissary and of the guards, he released the whole of them; andbeyond all doubt he must have been out of his senses, or he must be asgreat a scoundrel as they, or some man without heart or conscienceto let the wolf loose among the Éäep, the fox among the hens, the flyamong the honey. he has defrauded justice, and opposed his king anwful master, for he opposed his justmands; he has, i say, robbedthe galleys of their feet, stirred up the holy brotherhood which formany years past has been quiet, and,stly, has done a deed bywhich his soul may be lost without any gain to his body." sancho hadtold the curate and the barber of the adventure of the galleyves, which, so much to his glory, his master had achieved, andhence the curate in alluding to it made the most of it to see whatwould be said or done by don quixote; who ²ånged colour at everyword, not daring to say that it was he who had been the liberator ofthose worthy people. "these, then," said the curate, "were they whorobbed us; and god in his mercy pardon him who would not let them goto the punishment they deserved." ²åpter xxx which treats of address disyed by the fair dorothea, with othermatters pleasant and amusing the curate had hardly ceased speaking, when sancho said, "infaith, then, senor licentiate, he who did that deed was my master; andit was not for want of my telling him beforehand and warning him tomind what he was about, and that it was a sin to set them atliberty, as they were all on the march there because they were specialscoundrels." "blockhead!" said don quixote at this, "it is no business or concernof knights-errant to inquire whether any persons in affliction, in²åins, or oppressed that they may meet on the high roads go thatway and suffer as they do because of their faults or because oftheir misfortunes. it only concerns them to aid them as persons inneed of help, having regard to their sufferings and not to theirrascalities. i encountered a ²åplet or string of miserable andunfortunate people, and did for them what my sense of duty demandsof me, and as for the rest be that as it may; and whoever takesobjection to it, saving the sacred dignity of the senor licentiate andhis honoured person, i say he knows little about chivalry and lieslike a whoreson viin, and this i will give him to know to thefullest extent with my sword;" and so saying he settled himself in hisstirrups and pressed down his morion; for the barbers basin, whiording to him was mambrinos helmet, he carried hanging at thesaddle-bow until he could repair the damage done to it by the galleyves. dorothea, who was shrewd and sprightly, and by this timethoroughly understood don quixotes crazy turn, and that all exceptsancho panza were making game of him, not to be behind the rest saidto him, on observing his irritation, "sir knight, remember the boonyou have promised me, and that in ordance with it you must notengage in any other adventure, be it ever so pressing; calmyourself, for if the licentiate had known that the galley ves hadbeen set free by that unconquered arm he would have stopped hismouth thrice over, or even bitten his tongue three times before hewould have said a word that tended towards disrespect of yourworship." "that i swear heartily," said the curate, "and i would have evenplucked off a moustache." "i will hold my peace, senora," said don quixote, "and i will curbthe natural anger that had arisen in my breast, and will proceed inpeace and quietness until i have fulfilled my promise; but in returnfor this consideration i entreat you to tell me, if you have noobjection to do so, what is the nature of your trouble, and howmany, who, and what are the persons of whom i am to require duesatisfaction, and on whom i am to take vengeance on your behalf?" "that i will do with all my heart," replied dorothea, "if it willnot be wearisome to you to hear of miseries and misfortunes." "it will not be wearisome, senora," said don quixote; to whichdorothea replied, "well, if that be so, give me your attention." assoon as Éä said this, cardenio and the barber drew close to her side,eager to hear what sort of story the quick-witted dorothea wouldinvent for herself; and sancho did the same, for he was as muchtaken in by her as his master; and Éä having settled herselfortably in the saddle, and with the help of coughing and otherpreliminaries taken time to think, began with great sprightliness ofmanner in this fashion. "first of all, i would have you know, sirs, that my name is-" andhere Éä stopped for a moment, for Éä forgot the name the curatehad given her; but he came to her relief, seeing what her difficultywas, and said, "it is no wonder, senora, that your highness shouldbe confused and embarrassed in telling the tale of your misfortunes;for such afflictions often have the effect of depriving thesufferers of memory, so that they do not even remember their ownnames, as is the case now with yourdyship, who has forgotten thatÉä is called the princess micona,wful heiress of the greatkingdom of micon; and with this cue your highness may now recallto your sorrowful recollection all you may wish to tell us."
µÚ54Ò³ "that is the truth," said the damsel; "but i think from this on ishall have no need of any prompting, and i shall bring my true storysafe into port, and here it is. the king my father, who was calledtinacrio the sapient, was very learned in what they call magic arts,and became aware by his craft that my mother, who was called queenjarami, was to die before he did, and that soon after he too was todepart this life, and i was to be left an orphan without father ormother. but all this, he dered, did not so much grieve ordistress him as his certain knowledge that a prodigious giant, thelord of a great ind close to our kingdom, pandafndo of the scowlby name -for it is averred that, though his eyes are properly cedand straight, he always looks askew as if he squinted, and this hedoes out of malignity, to strike fear and terror into those he looksat- that he knew, i say, that this giant on bing aware of myorphan condition would overrun my kingdom with a mighty force andstrip me of all, not leaving me even a small vige to Éälter me;but that i could avoid all this ruin and misfortune if i werewilling to marry him; however, as far as he could see, he neverexpected that i would consent to a marriage so unequal; and he said nomore than the truth in this, for it has never entered my mind to marrythat giant, or any other, let him be ever so great or enormous. myfather said, too, that when he was dead, and i saw pandafndoabout to invade my kingdom, i was not to wait and attempt to defendmyself, for that would be destructive to me, but that i should leavethe kingdom entirely open to him if i wiÉäd to avoid the death andtotal destruction of my good and loyal vassals, for there would beno possibility of defending myself against the giants devilish power;and that i should at once with some of my followers set out for spain,where i should obtain relief in my distress on finding a certainknight-errant whose fame by that time would extend over the wholekingdom, and who would be called, if i remember rightly, don azoteor don gigote." "don quixote, he must have said, senora," observed sancho at this,"otherwise called the knight of the rueful countenance." "that is it," said dorothea; "he said, moreover, that he would betall of stature andnk featured; and that on his right side underthe left shoulder, or thereabouts, he would have a grey mole withhairs like bristles." on hearing this, don quixote said to his squire, "here, sancho myson, bear a hand and help me to strip, for i want to see if i am theknight that sage king foretold." "what does your worship want to strip for?" said dorothea. "to see if i have that mole your father spoke of," answered donquixote. "there is no asion to strip," said sancho; "for i know yourworship has just such a mole on the middle of your backbone, whichis the mark of a strong man." "that is enough," said dorothea, "for with friends we must notlook too closely into trifles; and whether it be on the shoulder or onthe backbone matters little; it is enough if there is a mole, be itwhere it may, for it is all the same flesh; no doubt my good fatherhit the truth in every particr, and i have made a lucky hit imending myself to don quixote; for he is the one my father spokeof, as the features of his countenance correspond with thoseassigned to this knight by that wide fame he has acquired not onlyin spain but in all man²å; for i had scarcelynded at osuna wheni heard such ounts of his achievements, that at once my hearttold me he was the very one i hade in search of." "but how did yound at osuna, senora," asked don quixote, "when itis not a seaport?" but before dorothea could reply the curate anticipated her,saying, "the princess meant to say that after Éä hadnded at mgathe first ce where Éä heard of your worship was osuna." "that is what i meant to say," said dorothea. "and that would be only natural," said the curate. "will yourmajesty please proceed?" "there is no more to add," said dorothea, "save that in findingdon quixote i have had such good fortune, that i already reckon andregard myself queen and mistress of my entire dominions, since ofhis courtesy and magnanimity he has granted me the boon ofapanying me whithersoever i may conduct him, which will be only tobring him face to face with pandafndo of the scowl, that he mayy him and restore to me what has been unjustly usurped by him:for all this muste to pass satisfactorily since my good fathertinacrio the sapient foretold it, who likewise left it dered inwriting in ²åldee or greek ²åracters £¨for i cannot read them£©£¬that if this predicted knight, after having cut the giants throat,should be disposed to marry me i was to offer myself at once withoutdemur as hiswful wife, and yield him possession of my kingdomtogether with my person." "what thinkest thou now, friend sancho?" said don quixote at this."hearest thou that? did i not tell thee so? see how we have alreadygot a kingdom to govern and a queen to marry!" "on my oath it is so," said sancho; "and foul fortune to him whowont marry after slitting senor pandahdos windpipe! and then, howillfavoured the queen is! i wish the fleas in my bed were that sort!" and so saying he cut a couple of capers in the air with every signof extreme satisfaction, and then ran to seize the bridle ofdorotheas mule, and checking it fell on his knees before her, beggingher to give him her hand to kiss in token of his acknowledgment of heras his queen and mistress. which of the bystanders could have helpeughing to see the madness of the master and the simplicity of theservant? dorothea therefore gave her hand, and promised to make hima great lord in her kingdom, when heaven should be so good as topermit her to recover and enjoy it, for which sancho returned thanksin words that set them allughing again. "this, sirs," continued dorothea, "is my story; it only remains totell you that of all the attendants i took with me from my kingdom ihave none left except this well-bearded squire, for all were drownedin a great tempest we encountered when in sight of port; and he andi came tond on a couple of nks as if by a miracle; and indeedthe whole course of my life is a miracle and a mystery as you may haveobserved; and if i have been over minute in any respect or not asprecise as i ought, let it be ounted for by what the licentiatesaid at the beginning of my tale, that constant and excessive troublesdeprive the sufferers of their memory." "they shall not deprive me of mine, exalted and worthy princess,"said don quixote, "however great and unexampled those which i shallendure in your service may be; and here i confirm anew the boon i havepromised you, and i swear to go with you to the end of the world untili find myself in the presence of your fierce enemy, whose haughty headi trust by the aid of my arm to cut off with the edge of this- iwill not say good sword, thanks to gines de pasamonte who carried awaymine"- £¨this he said between his teeth, and then continued£©£¬ "and whenit has been cut off and you have been put in peaceful possession ofyour realm it shall be left to your own decision to dispose of yourperson as may be most pleasing to you; for so long as my memory isupied, my will enved, and my understanding enthralled by her-i say no more- it is impossible for me for a moment to contemtemarriage, even with a phoenix." thest words of his master about not wanting to marry were sodisagreeable to sancho that raising his voice he eximed withgreat irritation: "by my oath, senor don quixote, you are not in your right senses;for how can your worship possibly object to marrying such an exaltedprincess as this? do you think fortune will offer you behind everystone such a piece of luck as is offered you now? is mydydulcinea fairer, per²ånce? not Éä; nor half as fair; and i will evengo so far as to say Éä does note up to the shoe of this one here.a poor ²ånce i have of getting that county i am waiting for if yourworship goes looking for dainties in the bottom of the sea. in thedevils name, marry, marry, and take this kingdom thates to handwithout any trouble, and when you are king make me a marquis orgovernor of a province, and for the rest let the devil take it all." don quixote, when he heard such sphemies uttered against hisdydulcinea, could not endure it, and lifting his pike, without sayinganything to sancho or uttering a word, he gave him two such thwacksthat he brought him to the ground; and had it not been that dorotheacried out to him to spare him he would have no doubt taken his life onthe spot. "do you think," he said to him after a pause, "you scurvy clown,that you are to be always interfering with me, and that you are tobe always offending and i always pardoning? dont fancy it, impiousscoundrel, for that beyond a doubt thou art, since thou hast set thytongue going against the peerless dulcinea. know you not, lout,vagabond, beggar, that were it not for the might that Éä infuses intomy arm i should not have strength enough to kill a flea? say,scoffer with a vipers tongue, what think you has won this kingdom andcut off this giants head and made you a marquis £¨for all this i countas already apliÉäd and decided£©£¬ but the might of dulcinea,employing my arm as the instrument of her achievements? Éä fightsin me and conquers in me, and i live and breathe in her, and owe mylife and being to her. o whoreson scoundrel, how ungrateful you are,you see yourself raised from the dust of the earth to be a titledlord, and the return you make for so great a benefit is to speakevil of her who has conferred it upon you!"
µÚ55Ò³ sancho was not so stunned but that he heard all his master said, andrising with some degree of nimbleness he ran to ce himself behinddorotheas palfrey, and from that position he said to his master: "tell me, senor; if your worship is resolved not to marry this greatprincess, it is in the kingdom will not be yours; and not being so,how can you bestow favours upon me? that is what iin of. letyour worship at any rate marry this queen, now that we have got herhere as if showered down from heaven, and afterwards you may go backto mydy dulcinea; for there must have been kings in the world whokept mistresses. as to beauty, i have nothing to do with it; and ifthe truth is to be told, i like them both; though i have never seenthedy dulcinea." "how! never seen her, sphemous traitor!" eximed don quixote;"hast thou not just now brought me a message from her?" "i mean," said sancho, "that i did not see her so much at my leisurethat i could take particr notice of her beauty, or of her ²årmspiecemeal; but taken in the lump i like her." "now i forgive thee," said don quixote; "and do thou forgive methe injury i have done thee; for our first impulses are not in ourcontrol." "that i see," replied sancho, "and with me the wish to speak isalways the first impulse, and i cannot help saying, once at anyrate, what i have on the tip of my tongue." "for all that, sancho," said don quixote, "take heed of what thousayest, for the pitcher goes so often to the well- i need say nomore to thee." "well, well," said sancho, "god is in heaven, and sees all tricks,and will judge who does most harm, i in not speaking right, or yourworship in not doing it." "that is enough," said dorothea; "run, sancho, and kiss yourlords hand and beg his pardon, and henceforward be more circumspectwith your praise and abuse; and say nothing in disparagement of thady toboso, of whom i know nothing save that i am her servant; andput your trust in god, for you will not fail to obtain some dignity soas to live like a prince." sancho advanced hanging his head and begged his masters hand, whichdon quixote with dignity presented to him, giving him his blessingas soon as he had kissed it; he then bade him go on ahead a little, aÉä had questions to ask him and matters of great importance to discusswith him. sancho obeyed, and when the two had gone some distance inadvance don quixote said to him, "since thy return i have had noopportunity or time to ask thee many particrs touching thymission and the answer thou hast brought back, and now that ²ånce hasgranted us the time and opportunity, deny me not the happiness thoucanst give me by such good news." "let your worship ask what you will," answered sancho, "for ishall find a way out of all as as i found a way in; but i implore you,senor, not not to be so revengeful in future." "why dost thou say that, sancho?" said don quixote. "i say it," he returned, "because those blows just now were morebecause of the quarrel the devil stirred up between us both theother night, than for what i said against mydy dulcinea, whom ilove and reverence as i would a relic- though there is nothing of thatabout her- merely as something belonging to your worship." "say no more on that subject for thy life, sancho," said donquixote, "for it is displeasing to me; i have already pardoned theefor that, and thou knowest themon saying, for a fresh sin a freshpenance." while this was going on they sawing along the road they werefollowing a man mounted on an ass, who when he came close seemed to bea gipsy; but sancho panza, whose eyes and heart were there wherever hesaw asses, no sooner beheld the man than he knew him to be gines depasamonte; and by the thread of the gipsy he got at the ball, his ass,for it was, in fact, dapple that carried pasamonte, who to escaperecognition and to sell the ass had disguised himself as a gipsy,being able to speak the gipsynguage, and many more, as well as ifthey were his own. sancho saw him and recognised him, and theinstant he did so he shouted to him, "ginesillo, you thief, give up mytreasure, release my life, embarrass thyself not with my repose,quit my ass, leave my delight, be off, rip, get thee gone, thief,and give up what is not thine." there was no necessity for so many words or objurgations, for at thefirst one gines jumped down, and at a like racing speed made off andgot clear of them all. sancho hastened to his dapple, and embracinghim he said, "how hast thou fared, my blessing, dapple of my eyes,myrade?" all the while kissing him and caressing him as if he werea human being. the ass held his peace, and let himself be kissed andcaressed by sancho without answering a single word. they all came upand congratted him on having found dapple, don quixoteespecially, who told him that notwithstanding this he would not cancelthe order for the three ass-colts, for which sancho thanked him. while the two had been going along conversing in this fashion, thecurate observed to dorothea that Éä had shown great cleverness, aswell in the story itself as in its conciseness, and the resemnce itbore to those of the books of chivalry. Éä said that Éä had manytimes amused herself reading them; but that Éä did not know thesituation of the provinces or seaports, and so Éä had said athaphazard that Éä hadnded at osuna. "so i saw," said the curate, "and for that reason i made haste tosay what i did, by which it was all set right. but is it not a strangething to see how readily this unhappy gentleman believes all thesefigments and lies, simply because they are in the style and mannerof the absurdities of his books?" "so it is," said cardenio; "and so umon and unexampled, thatwere one to attempt to invent and concoct it in fiction, i doubt ifthere be any wit keen enough to imagine it." "but another strange thing about it," said the curate, "is that,apart from the silly things which this worthy gentleman says inconnection with his craze, when other subjects are dealt with, hecan discuss them in a perfectly rational manner, showing that his mindis quite clear andposed; so that, provided his chivalry is nottouched upon, no one would take him to be anything but a man ofthoroughly sound understanding." while they were holding this conversation don quixote continuedhis with sancho, saying: "friend panza, let us forgive and forget as to our quarrels, andtell me now, dismissing anger and irritation, where, how, and whendidst thou find dulcinea? what was Éä doing? what didst thou say toher? what did Éä answer? how did Éä look when Éä was reading myletter? who copied it out for thee? and everything in the matterthat seems to thee worth knowing, asking, and learning; neither addingnor falsifying to give me pleasure, nor yet curtailing lest you shoulddeprive me of it." "senor," replied sancho, "if the truth is to be told, nobodycopied out the letter for me, for i carried no letter at all." "it is as thou sayest," said don quixote, "for the note-book inwhich i wrote it i found in my own possession two days after thydeparture, which gave me very great vexation, as i knew not whatthou wouldst do on finding thyself without any letter; and i made surethou wouldst return from the ce where thou didst first miss it." "so i should have done," said sancho, "if i had not got it byheart when your worship read it to me, so that i repeated it to asacristan, who copied it out for me from hearing it, so exactly thathe said in all the days of his life, though he had read many aletter of emunication, he had never seen or read so pretty aletter as that." "and hast thou got it still in thy memory, sancho?" said donquixote. "no, senor," replied sancho, "for as soon as i had repeated it,seeing there was no further use for it, i set about forgetting it; andif i recollect any of it, it is that about scrubbing,i mean to saysovereigndy, and the end yours till death, the knight of therueful countenance; and between these two i put into it more thanthree hundred my souls and my lifes and my eyes." ²åpter xxxi of the delectable discussion between don quixote and sancho panza,his squire, together with other incidents "all that is not unsatisfactory to me," said don quixote. "go on;thou didst reach her; and what was that queen of beauty doing?surely thou didst find her stringing pearls, or embroidering somedevice in gold thread for this her enved knight." "i did not," said sancho, "but i found her winnowing two buÉälsof wheat in the yard of her house." "then depend upon it," said don quixote, "the grains of that wheatwere pearls when touched by her hands; and didst thou look, friend?was it white wheat or brown?" "it was neither, but red," said sancho. "then i promise thee," said don quixote, "that, winnowed by herhands, beyond a doubt the bread it made was of the whitest; but go on;when thou gavest her my letter, did Éä kiss it? did Éä ce it onher head? did Éä perform any ceremony befitting it, or what did Éädo?"
µÚ56Ò³ "when i went to give it to her," replied sancho, "Éä was hard at itswaying from side to side with a lot of wheat Éä had in the sieve,and Éä said to me,y the letter, friend, on the top of thatsack, for i cannot read it until i have done sifting all this." "discreetdy!" said don quixote; "that was in order to read itat her leisure and enjoy it; proceed, sancho; while Éä was engaged inher upation what converse did Éä hold with thee? what did Éäask about me, and what answer didst thou give? make haste; tell meall, and let not an atom be left behind in the ink-bottle." "Éä asked me nothing," said sancho; "but i told her how yourworship was left doing penance in her service, naked from the waistup, in among these mountains like a savage, sleeping on the ground,not eating bread off a tablecloth norbing your beard, weepingand cursing your fortune." "in saying i cursed my fortune thou saidst wrong," said don quixote;"for rather do i bless it and shall bless it all the days of my lifefor having made me worthy of aspiring to love so lofty ady asdulcinea del toboso." "and so lofty Éä is," said sancho, "that Éä overtops me by morethan a hands-breadth." "what! sancho," said don quixote, "didst thou measure with her?" "i measured in this way," said sancho; "going to help her to put asack of wheat on the back of an ass, we came so close together thati could see Éä stood more than a good palm over me." "well!" said don quixote, "and doth Éä not of a truth apany andadorn this greatness with a thousand million ²årms of mind! but hing thou wilt not deny, sancho; when thou camest close to herdidst thou not perceive a sabaean odour, an aromatic fragrance, a, iknow not what, delicious, that i cannot find a name for; i mean aredolence, an exhtion, as if thou wert in the shop of some daintyglover?" "all i can say is," said sancho, "that i did perceive a littleodour, something goaty; it must have been that Éä was all in asweat with hard work." "it could not be that," said don quixote, "but thou must have beensuffering from cold in the head, or must have smelt thyself; for iknow well what would be the scent of that rose among thorns, that lilyof the field, that dissolved amber." "maybe so," replied sancho; "there oftenes from myself that sameodour which then seemed to me toe from her grace thedydulcinea; but thats no wonder, for one devil is like another." "well then," continued don quixote, "now Éä has done sifting thecorn and sent it to the mill; what did Éä do when Éä read theletter?" "as for the letter," said sancho, "Éä did not read it, for Éä saidÉä could neither read nor write; instead of that Éä tore it upinto small pieces, saying that Éä did not want to let anyone readit lest her secrets should be known in the vige, and thatwhat i had told her by word of mouth about the love your worshipbore her, and the extraordinary penance you were doing for her sake,was enough; and, to make an end of it, Éä told me to tell yourworship that Éä kissed your hands, and that Éä had a greaterdesire to see you than to write to you; and that therefore Éäentreated andmanded you, on sight of this present, toe outof these thickets, and to have done with carrying on absurdities,and to set out at once for el toboso, unless something else of greaterimportance should happen, for Éä had a great desire to see yourworship. Éäughed greatly when i told her how your worship wascalled the knight of the rueful countenance; i asked her if thatbiscayan the other day had been there; and Éä told me he had, andthat he was an honest fellow; i asked her too about the galley ves,but Éä said Éä had not seen any as yet." "so far all goes well," said don quixote; "but tell me what jewelwas it that Éä gave thee on taking thy leave, in return for thytidings of me? for it is a usual and ancient custom with knights andies errant to give the squires, damsels, or dwarfs who bringtidings of theirdies to the knights, or of their knights to thdies, some rich jewel as a guerdon for good news, andacknowledgment of the message." "that is very likely," said sancho, "and a good custom it was, to mymind; but that must have been in days gone by, for now it would seemto be the custom only to give a piece of bread and cheese; becausethat was what mydy dulcinea gave me over the top of the yard-wallwhen i took leave of her; and more by token it was Éäeps-milkcheese." "Éä is generous in the extreme," said don quixote, "and if Éädid not give thee a jewel of gold, no doubt it must have beenbecause Éä had not one to hand there to give thee; but sleeves aregood after easter; i shall see her and all shall be made right. butknowest thou what amazes me, sancho? it seems to me thou must havegone ande through the air, for thou hast taken but little morethan three days to go to el toboso and return, though it is morethan thirty leagues from here to there. from which i am inclined tothink that the sage magician who is my friend, and watches over myinterests £¨for of necessity there is and must be one, or else i shouldnot be a right knight-errant£©£¬ that this same, i say, must have helpedthee to travel without thy knowledge; for some of these sages willcatch up a knight-errant sleeping in his bed, and without hisknowing how or in what way it happened, he wakes up the next daymore than a thousand leagues away from the ce where he went tosleep. and if it were not for this, knights-errant would not be ableto give aid to one another in peril, as they do at every turn. for aknight, maybe, is fighting in the mountains of armenia with somedragon, or fierce serpent, or another knight, and gets the worst ofthe battle, and is at the point of death; but when he least looksfor it, there appears over against him on a cloud, or ²åriot of fire,another knight, a friend of his, who just before had been inennd, and who takes his part, and delivers him from death; and atnight he finds himself in his own quarters supping very much to hissatisfaction; and yet from one ce to the other will have been twoor three thousand leagues. and all this is done by the craft and skillof the sage en²ånters who take care of those valiant knights; sothat, friend sancho, i find no difficulty in believing that thoumayest have gone from this ce to el toboso and returned in such ashort time, since, as i have said, some friendly sage must havecarried thee through the air without thee perceiving it." "that must have been it," said sancho, "for indeed rocinante wentlike a gipsys ass with quicksilver in his ears." "quicksilver!" said don quixote, "aye and what is more, a legionof devils, folk that can travel and make others travel without beingweary, exactly as the whim seizes them. but putting this aside, whatthinkest thou i ought to do about mydysmand to go and see her?for though i feel that i am bound to obey her mandate, i feel too thati am debarred by the boon i have orded to the princess thatapanies us, and thew of chivalrypels me to have regardfor my word in preference to my inclination; on the one hand thedesire to see mydy pursues and harasses me, on the other mysolemn promise and the glory i shall win in this enterprise urge andcall me; but what i think i shall do is to travel with all speed andreach quickly the ce where this giant is, and on my arrival i shallcut off his head, and establish the princess peacefully in herrealm, and forthwith i shall return to behold the light thatlightens my senses, to whom i shall make such excuses that Éä will beled to approve of my dy, for Éä will see that it entirely tends toincrease her glory and fame; for all that i have won, am winning, orshall win by arms in this life,es to me of the favour Éäextends to me, and because i am hers." "ah! what a sad state your worships brains are in!" said sancho."tell me, senor, do you mean to travel all that way for nothing, andto let slip and lose so rich and great a match as this where they giveas a portion a kingdom that in sober truth i have heard say is morethan twenty thousand leagues round about, and abounds with allthings necessary to support human life, and is bigger than portugnd castile put together? peace, for the love of god! blush for whatyou have said, and take my advice, and forgive me, and marry at oncein the first vige where there is a curate; if not, here is ourlicentiate who will do the business beautifully; remember, i am oldenough to give advice, and this i am givinges pat to thepurpose; for a sparrow in the hand is better than a vulture on thewing, and he who has the good to his hand and chooses the bad, thatthe good heins of may note to him." "look here, sancho," said don quixote. "if thou art advising me tomarry, in order that immediately on ying the giant i may beking, and be able to confer favours on thee, and give thee what i havepromised, let me tell thee i shall be able very easily to satisfythy desires without marrying; for before going into battle i will makeit a stiption that, if ie out of it victorious, even i do notmarry, they shall give me a portion portion of the kingdom, that i maybestow it upon whomsoever i choose, and when they give it to me uponwhom wouldst thou have me bestow it but upon thee?"
µÚ57Ò³ "that is in speaking," said sancho; "but let your worship takecare to choose it on the seacoast, so that if i dont like the life, imay be able to ship off my ck vassals and deal with them as ihave said; dont mind going to see mydy dulcinea now, but go andkill this giant and let us finish off this business; for by god itstrikes me it will be one of great honour and great profit." "i hold thou art in the right of it, sancho," said don quixote, "andi will take thy advice as to apanying the princess before going tosee dulcinea; but i counsel thee not to say anything to any one, or tothose who are with us, about what we have considered and discussed,for as dulcinea is so decorous that Éä does not wish her thoughtsto be known it is not right that i or anyone for me should disclosethem." "well then, if that be so," said sancho, "how is it that yourworship makes all those you ovee by your arm go to presentthemselves before mydy dulcinea, this being the same thing assigning your name to it that you love her and are her lover? and asthose who go must perforce kneel before her and say theye fromyour worship to submit themselves to her, how can the thoughts of bothof you be hid?" "o, how silly and simple thou art!" said don quixote; "seest thounot, sancho, that this tends to her greater exaltation? for thoumust know that ording to our way of thinking in chivalry, it is ahigh honour to ady to have many knights-errant in her service,whose thoughts never go beyond serving her for her own sake, and wholook for no other reward for their great and true devotion than thatÉä should be willing to ept them as her knights." "it is with that kind of love," said sancho, "i have heard preacherssay we ought to love our lord, for himself alone, without beingmoved by the hope of glory or the fear of punishment; though for mypart, i would rather love and serve him for what he could do." "the devil take thee for a clown!" said don quixote, "and whatshrewd things thou sayest at times! one would think thou hadststudied." "in faith, then, i cannot even read." master nichs here called out to them to wait a while, as theywanted to halt and drink at a little spring there was there. donquixote drew up, not a little to the satisfaction of sancho, for hewas by this time weary of telling so many lies, and in dread of hismaster catching him tripping, for though he knew that dulcinea was apeasant girl of el toboso, he had never seen her in all his life.cardenio had now put on the clothes which dorothea was wearing whenthey found her, and though they were not very good, they were farbetter than those he put off. they dismounted together by the sideof the spring, and with what the curate had provided himself with atthe inn they appeased, though not very well, the keen appetite theyall of them brought with them. while they were so employed there happened toe by a youthpassing on his way, who stopping to examine the party at the spring,the next moment ran to don quixote and sping him round the legs,began to weep freely, saying, "o, senor, do you not know me? look atme well; i am thatd andres that your worship released from theoak-tree where i was tied." don quixote recognised him, and taking his hand he turned to thosepresent and said: "that your worships may see how important it is tohave knights-errant to redress the wrongs and injuries done bytyrannical and wicked men in this world, i may tell you that some daysago passing through a wood, i heard cries and piteousints as ofa person in pain and distress; i immediately hastened, impelled bymy bounden duty, to the quarter whence the intive ents seemed tome to proceed, and i found tied to an oak thisd who now standsbefore you, which in my heart i rejoice at, for his testimony will notpermit me to depart from the truth in any particr. he was, i say,tied to an oak, naked from the waist up, and a clown, whom iafterwards found to be his master, was scarifying him byÉäs withthe reins of his mare. as soon as i saw him i asked the reason of socruel a getion. the boor replied that he was flogging himbecause he was his servant and because of carelessness thatproceeded rather from dishonesty than stupidity; on which this boysaid, senor, he flogs me only because i ask for my wages. the mastermade i know not what speeches and exnations, which, though ilistened to them, i did not ept. in short, ipelled the clown tounbind him, and to swear he would take him with him, and pay himreal by real, and perfumed into the bargain. is not all this true,andres my son? didst thou not mark with what authority imandedhim, and with what humility he promised to do all i enjoined,specified, and required of him? answer without hesitation; tellthese gentlemen what took ce, that they may see that it is as greatan advantage as i say to have knights-errant abroad." "all that your worship has said is quite true," answered thed;"but the end of the business turned out just the opposite of what yourworship supposes." "how! the opposite?" said don quixote; "did not the clown pay theethen?" "not only did he not pay me," replied thed, "but as soon asyour worship had passed out of the wood and we were alone, he tiedme up again to the same oak and gave me a fresh flogging, that left melike a yed saint bartholomew; and every stroke he gave me hefollowed up with some jest or gibe about having made a fool of yourworship, and but for the pain i was suffering i should haveughed atthe things he said. in short he left me in such a condition that ihave been until now in a hospital getting cured of the injurieswhich that rascally clown inflicted on me then; for all which yourworship is to me; for if you had gone your own way and notewhere there was no call for you, nor meddled in other peoplesaffairs, my master would have been content with giving me one or twodozenÉäs, and would have then loosed me and paid me what he owedme; but when your worship abused him so out of measure, and gave himso many hard words, his anger was kindled; and as he could not revengehimself on you, as soon as he saw you had left him the storm burstupon me in such a way, that i feel as if i should never be a managain." "the mischief," said don quixote, "y in my going away; for ishould not have gone until i had seen thee paid; because i ought tohave known well by long experience that there is no clown who willkeep his word if he finds it will not suit him to keep it; but thourememberest, andres, that i swore if he did not pay thee i would goand seek him, and find him though he were to hide himself in thewhales belly." "that is true," said andres; "but it was of no use." "thou shalt see now whether it is of use or not," said donquixote; and so saying, he got up hastily and bade sancho bridlerocinante, who was browsing while they were eating. dorothea asked himwhat he meant to do. he replied that he meant to go in search ofthis clown and ²åstise him for such iniquitous conduct, and seeandres paid to thest maravedi, despite and in the teeth of allthe clowns in the world. to which Éä replied that he must rememberthat in ordance with his promise he could not engage in anyenterprise until he had concluded hers; and that as he knew thisbetter than anyone, he should restrain his ardour until his returnfrom her kingdom. "that is true," said don quixote, "and andres must have patienceuntil my return as you say, senora; but i once more swear andpromise not to stop until i have seen him avenged and paid." "i have no faith in those oaths," said andres; "i would ratherhave now something to help me to get to seville than all therevenges in the world; if you have here anything to eat that i cantake with me, give it me, and god be with your worship and allknights-errant; and may their errands turn out as well forthemselves as they have for me." sancho took out from his store a piece of bread and another ofcheese, and giving them to thed he said, "here, take this,brother andres, for we have all of us a share in your misfortune." "why, what share have you got?" "this share of bread and cheese i am giving you," answered sancho;"and god knows whether i shall feel the want of it myself or not;for i would have you know, friend, that we squires to knights-erranthave to bear a great deal of hunger and hard fortune, and even otherthings more easily felt than told." andres seized his bread and cheese, and seeing that nobody gavehim anything more, bent his head, and took hold of the road, as thesaying is. however, before leaving he said, "for the love of god,sir knight-errant, if you ever meet me again, though you may seethem cutting me to pieces, give me no aid or sour, but leave meto my misfortune, which will not be so great but that a greater wile to me by being helped by your worship, on whom and all theknights-errant that have ever been born god send his curse." don quixote was getting up to ²åstise him, but he took to his heelsat such a pace that no one attempted to follow him; and mightily²åpfallen was don quixote at andres story, and the others had totake great care to restrain theirughter so as not to put himentirely out of countenance. ²åpter xxxii which treats of what befell don quixotes party at the inn
µÚ58Ò³ their dainty repast being finiÉäd, they saddled at once, andwithout any adventure worth mentioning they reached next day theinn, the object of sancho panzas fear and dread; but though hewould have rather not entered it, there was no help for it. thndy, thendlord, their daughter, and maritornes, when theysaw don quixote and sanchoing, went out to wee them with signsof hearty satisfaction, which don quixote received with dignity andgravity, and bade them make up a better bed for him than thesttime: to which thendy replied that if he paid better than he didthest time Éä would give him one fit for a prince. don quixotesaid he would, so they made up a tolerable one for him in the samegarret as before; and hey down at once, being sorely shaken andin want of sleep. no sooner was the door shut upon him than thendy made at thebarber, and seizing him by the beard, said: "by my faith you are not going to make a beard of my tail anylonger; you must give me back tail, for it is a shame the way thatthing of my husbands goes tossing about on the floor; i mean thebthat i used to stick in my good tail." but for all Éä tugged at it the barber would not give it up untilthe licentiate told him to let her have it, as there was now nofurther asion for that stratagem, because he might derehimself and appear in his own ²åracter, and tell don quixote thathe had fled to this inn when those thieves the galley ves robbedhim; and should he ask for the princesss squire, they could tellhim that Éä had sent him on before her to give notice to the peopleof her kingdom that Éä wasing, and bringing with her thedeliverer of them all. on this the barber cheerfully restored the tailto thendy, and at the same time they returned all theessories they had borrowed to effect don quixotes deliverance. allthe people of the inn were struck with astonishment at the beauty ofdorothea, and even at theely figure of the Éäpherd cardenio.the curate made them get ready such fare as there was in the inn,and thendlord, in hope of better payment, served them up atolerably good dinner. all this time don quixote was asleep, andthey thought it best not to waken him, as sleeping would now do himmore good than eating. while at dinner, thepany consisting of thendlord, his wife,their daughter, maritornes, and all the travellers, they discussed thestrange craze of don quixote and the manner in which he had beenfound; and thendy told them what had taken ce between him andthe carrier; and then, looking round to see if sancho was there,when Éä saw he was not, Éä gave them the whole story of hisnketing, which they received with no little amusement. but on thecurate observing that it was the books of chivalry which don quixotehad read that had turned his brain, thendlord said: "i cannot understand how that can be, for in truth to my mindthere is no better reading in the world, and i have here two orthree of them, with other writings that are the very life, not only ofmyself but of plenty more; for when it is harvest-time, the reapersflock here on holidays, and there is always one among them who canread and who takes up one of these books, and we gather round him,thirty or more of us, and stay listening to him with a delight thatmakes our grey hairs grow young again. at least i can say for myselfthat when i hear of what furious and terrible blows the knightsdeliver, i am seized with the longing to do the same, and i would liketo be hearing about them night and day." "and i just as much," said thendy, "because i never have aquiet moment in my house except when you are listening to some onereading; for then you are so taken up that for the time being youforget to scold." "that is true," said maritornes; "and, faith, i relish hearing thesethings greatly too, for they are very pretty; especially when theydescribe somedy or another in the arms of her knight under theorange trees, and the duenna who is keeping watch for them half deadwith envy and fright; all this i say is as good as honey." "and you, what do you think, youngdy?" said the curate turning tothendlords daughter. "i dont know indeed, senor," said Éä; "i listen too, and to tellthe truth, though i do not understand it, i like hearing it; but it isnot the blows that my father likes that i like, but thements theknights utter when they are separated from theirdies; and indeedthey sometimes make me weep with the pity i feel for them." "then you would console them if it was for you they wept, youndy?" said dorothea. "i dont know what i should do," said the girl; "i only know thatthere are some of thosedies so cruel that they call their knightstigers and lions and a thousand other foul names: and jesus! i dontknow what sort of folk they can be, so unfeeling and heartless, thatrather than bestow a nce upon a worthy man they leave him to die orgo mad. i dont know what is the good of such prudery; if it is forhonours sake, why not marry them? thats all they want." "hush, child," said thendy; "it seems to me thou knowest agreat deal about these things, and it is not fit for girls to knowor talk so much." "as the gentleman asked me, i could not help answering him," saidthe girl. "well then," said the curate, "bring me these books, senorndlord,for i should like to see them." "with all my heart," said he, and going into his own room he broughtout an old valise secured with a little ²åin, on opening which thecurate found in it threerge books and some manuscripts written in avery good hand. the first that he opened he found to be "doncirongilio of thrace," and the second "don felixmarte of hircania,"and the other the "history of the great captain gonzalo hernandez decordova, with the life of diego garcia de paredes." when the curate read the two first titles he looked over at thebarber and said, "we want my friends housekeeper and niece here now." "nay," said the barber, "i can do just as well to carry them tothe yard or to the hearth, and there is a very good fire there." "what! your worship would burn my books!" said thendlord. "only these two," said the curate, "don cirongilio, and felixmarte." "are my books, then, heretics or phlegmaties that you want to burnthem?" said thendlord. "schismatics you mean, friend," said the barber, "not phlegmatics." "thats it," said thendlord; "but if you want to burn any, let itbe that about the great captain and that diego garcia; for i wouldrather have a child of mine burnt than either of the others." "brother," said the curate, "those two books are made up of lies,and are full of folly and nonsense; but this of the great captain is atrue history, and contains the deeds of gonzalo hernandez ofcordova, who by his many and great achievements earned the title allover the world of the great captain, a famous and illustrious name,and deserved by him alone; and this diego garcia de paredes was adistinguiÉäd knight of the city of trujillo in estremadura, a mostgant soldier, and of such bodily strength that with one finger hestopped a mill-wheel in full motion; and posted with a two-handedsword at the foot of a bridge he kept the whole of an immense armyfrom passing over it, and achieved such other exploits that if,instead of his rting them himself with the modesty of a knightand of one writing his own history, some free and unbiassed writer hadrecorded them, they would have thrown into the shade all the deedsof the hectors, achilleses, and rnds." "tell that to my father," said thendlord. "theres a thing tobe astoniÉäd at! stopping a mill-wheel! by god your worship shouldread what i have read of felixmarte of hircania, how with one singlebackstroke he cleft five giants asunder through the middle as ifthey had been made of bean-pods like the little friars the childrenmake; and another time he attacked a very great and powerful army,in which there were more than a million six hundred thousand soldiers,all armed from head to foot, and he routed them all as if they hadbeen flocks of Éäep. and then, what do you say to the good cirongilioof thrace, that was so stout and bold; as may be seen in the book,where it is rted that as he was sailing along a river there came upout of the midst of the water against him a fiery serpent, and he,as soon as he saw it, flung himself upon it and got astride of itsscaly shoulders, and squeezed its throat with both hands with suchforce that the serpent, finding he was throttling it, had nothingfor it but to let itself sink to the bottom of the river, carryingwith it the knight who would not let go his hold; and when they gotdown there he found himself among pces and gardens so pretty thatit was a wonder to see; and then the serpent ²ånged itself into anold ancient man, who told him such things as were never heard. holdyour peace, senor; for if you were to hear this you would go madwith delight. a couple of figs for your great captain and your diegogarcia!" hearing this dorothea said in a whisper to cardenio, "ourndlordis almost fit to y a second part to don quixote." "i think so," said cardenio, "for, as he shows, he epts it as acertainty that everything those books rte took ce exactly asit is written down; and the barefooted friars themselves would notpersuade him to the contrary."
µÚ59Ò³ "but consider, brother, said the curate once more, "there neverwas any felixmarte of hircania in the world, nor any cirongilio ofthrace, or any of the other knights of the same sort, that the booksof chivalry talk of; the whole thing is the fabrication andinvention of idle wits, devised by them for the purpose you describeof beguiling the time, as your reapers do when they read; for iswear to you in all seriousness there never were any such knights inthe world, and no such exploits or nonsense ever happened anywhere." "try that bone on another dog," said thendlord; "as if i didnot know how many make five, and where my shoe pinches me; dont thinkto feed me with pap, for by god i am no fool. it is a good joke foryour worship to try and persuade me that everything these good bookssay is nonsense and lies, and they printed by the license of the lordsof the royal council, as if they were people who would allow such alot of lies to be printed all together, and so many battles anden²åntments that they take away ones senses." "i have told you, friend," said the curate, "that this is done todivert our idle thoughts; and as in well-ordered states games ofchess, fives, and billiards are allowed for the diversion of those whodo not care, or are not obliged, or are unable to work, so books ofthis kind are allowed to be printed, on the supposition that, whatindeed is the truth, there can be nobody so ignorant as to take any ofthem for true stories; and if it were permitted me now, and thepresentpany desired it, i could say something about thequalities books of chivalry should possess to be good ones, that wouldbe to the advantage and even to the taste of some; but i hope the timewille when i canmunicate my ideas to some one who may beable to mend matters; and in the meantime, senorndlord, believewhat i have said, and take your books, and make up your mind abouttheir truth or falsehood, and much good may they do you; and god grantyou may not fallme of the same foot your guest don quixote haltson." "no fear of that," returned thendlord; "i shall not be so madas to make a knight-errant of myself; for i see well enough thatthings are not now as they used to be in those days, when they saythose famous knights roamed about the world." sancho had made his appearance in the middle of this conversation,and he was very much troubled and cast down by what he heard saidabout knights-errant being now no longer in vogue, and all books ofchivalry being folly and lies; and he resolved in his heart to waitand see what came of this journey of his masters, and if it did notturn out as happily as his master expected, he determined to leave himand go back to his wife and children and his ordinarybour. thendlord was carrying away the valise and the books, but thecurate said to him, "wait; i want to see what those papers are thatare written in such a good hand." thendlord taking them outhanded them to him to read, and he perceived they were a work of abouteight Éäets of manuscript, with, inrge letters at the beginning,the title of "novel of the ill-advised curiosity." the curate readthree or four lines to himself, and said, "i must say the title ofthis novel does not seem to me a bad one, and i feel an inclination toread it all." to which thendlord replied, "then your reverence willdo well to read it, for i can tell you that some guests who haveread it here have been much pleased with it, and have begged it ofme very earnestly; but i would not give it, meaning to return it tothe person who forgot the valise, books, and papers here, for maybe hewill return here some time or other; and though i know i shall missthe books, faith i mean to return them; for though i am aninnkeeper, still i am a christian." "you are very right, friend," said the curate; "but for all that, ifthe novel pleases me you must let me copy it." "with all my heart," replied the host. while they were talking cardenio had taken up the novel and begun toread it, and forming the same opinion of it as the curate, he beggedhim to read it so that they might all hear it. "i would read it," said the curate, "if the time would not be betterspent in sleeping." "it will be rest enough for me," said dorothea, "to while away thetime by listening to some tale, for my spirits are not yet tranquilenough to let me sleep when it would be seasonable." "well then, in that case," said the curate, "i will read it, if itwere only out of curiosity; perhaps it may contain somethingpleasant." master nichs added his entreaties to the same effect, andsancho too; seeing which, and considering that he would givepleasure to all, and receive it himself, the curate said, "wellthen, attend to me everyone, for the novel begins thus." ²åpter xxxiii in which is rted the novel of "the ill-advised curiosity" in florence, a rich and famous city of italy in the provincecalled tuscany, there lived two gentlemen of wealth and quality,anselmo and lothario, such great friends that by way of distinctionthey were called by all that knew them "the two friends." they wereunmarried, young, of the same age and of the same tastes, which wasenough to ount for the reciprocal friendship between them. anselmo,it is true, was somewhat more inclined to seek pleasure in love thanlothario, for whom the pleasures of the ²åse had more attraction; buton asion anselmo would forego his own tastes to yield to those oflothario, and lothario would surrender his to fall in with those ofanselmo, and in this way their inclinations kept pace one with theother with a concord so perfect that the best regted clock couldnot surpass it. anselmo was deep in love with a high-born and beautiful maiden ofthe same city, the daughter of parents so estimable, and soestimable herself, that he resolved, with the approval of his friendlothario, without whom he did nothing, to ask her of them in marriage,and did so, lothario being the bearer of the demand, and conductingthe negotiation so much to the satisfaction of his friend that in ashort time he was in possession of the object of his desires, andcami so happy in having won anselmo for her husband, that Éägave thanks unceasingly to heaven and to lothario, by whose means suchgood fortune had fallen to her. the first few days, those of a weddingbeing usually days of merry-making, lothario frequented his friendanselmos house as he had been wont, striving to do honour to himand to the asion, and to gratify him in every way he could; butwhen the wedding days were over and the session of visits andcongrattions had ckened, he began purposely to leave off goingto the house of anselmo, for it seemed to him, as it naturally wouldto all men of sense, that friends houses ought not to be visitedafter marriage with the same frequency as in their masters bachelordays: because, though true and genuine friendship cannot and shouldnot be in any way suspicious, still a married mans honour is athing of such delicacy that it is held liable to injury from brothers,much more from friends. anselmo remarked the cessation of lothariosvisits, andined of it to him, saying that if he had knownthat marriage was to keep him from enjoying his society as he used, hewould have never married; and that, if by the thorough harmony thatsubsisted between them while he was a bachelor they had earned su²å sweet name as that of "the two friends," he should not allow a titleso rare and so delightful to be lost through a needless anxiety to actcircumspectly; and so he entreated him, if such a phrase was allowablebetween them, to be once more master of his house and toe in andgo out as formerly, assuring him that his wife cami had no otherdesire or inclination than that which he would wish her to have, andthat knowing how sincerely they loved one another Éä was grieved tosee such coldness in him. to all this and much more that anselmo said to lothario topersuade him toe to his house as he had been in the habit ofdoing, lothario replied with so much prudence, sense, and judgment,that anselmo was satisfied of his friends good intentions, and it wasagreed that on two days in the week, and on holidays, lotharioshoulde to dine with him; but though this arrangement was madebetween them lothario resolved to observe it no further than heconsidered to be in ordance with the honour of his friend, whosegood name was more to him than his own. he said, and justly, that amarried man upon whom heaven had bestowed a beautiful wife shouldconsider as carefully what friends he brought to his house as whatfemale friends his wife associated with, for what cannot be done orarranged in the market-ce, in church, at public festivals or atstations £¨opportunities that husbands cannot always deny their wives£©£¬may be easily managed in the house of the female friend or rtive inwhom most confidence is reposed. lothario said, too, that everymarried man should have some friend who would point out to him anynegligence he might be guilty of in his conduct, for it will sometimeshappen that owing to the deep affection the husband bears his wifeeither he does not caution her, or, not to vex her, refrains fromtelling her to do or not to do certain things, doing or avoiding whichmay be a matter of honour or reproach to him; and errors of thiskind he could easily correct if warned by a friend. but where issuch a friend to be found as lothario would have, so judicious, soloyal, and so true?
µÚ60Ò³ of a truth i know not; lothario alone was such a one, for with theutmost care and vignce he watched over the honour of his friend,and strove to diminish, cut down, and reduce the number of days forgoing to his house ording to their agreement, lest the visits ofa young man, wealthy, high-born, and with the attractions he wasconscious of possessing, at the house of a woman so beautiful ascami, should be regarded with suspicion by the inquisitive andmalicious eyes of the idle public. for though his integrity andreputation might bridle nderous tongues, still he was unwillingto hazard either his own good name or that of his friend; and for thisreason most of the days agreed upon he devoted to some otherbusiness which he pretended was unavoidable; so that a great portionof the day was taken up withints on one side and excuses on theother. it happened, however, that on one asion when the two werestrolling together outside the city, anselmo addressed the followingwords to lothario. "thou mayest suppose, lothario my friend, that i am unable to givesufficient thanks for the favours god has rendered me in making me theson of such parents as mine were, and bestowing upon me with noniggard hand what are called the gifts of nature as well as those offortune, and above all for what he has done in giving me thee for afriend and cami for a wife- two treasures that i value, if not ashighly as i ought, at least as highly as i am able. and yet, withall these good things, which aremonly all that men need toenable them to live happily, i am the most discontented anddissatisfied man in the whole world; for, i know not how long since, ihave been harassed and oppressed by a desire so strange and sounusual, that i wonder at myself and me and chide myself when iam alone, and strive to stifle it and hide it from my own thoughts,and with no better sess than if i were endeavouring deliberately topublish it to all the world; and as, in short, it muste out, iwould confide it to thy safe keeping, feeling sure that by this means,and by thy readiness as a true friend to afford me relief, i shallsoon find myself freed from the distress it causes me, and that thycare will give me happiness in the same degree as my own folly hascaused me misery." the words of anselmo struck lothario with astonishment, unable as hewas to conjecture the purport of such a lengthy preamble; and thoughbe strove to imagine what desire it could be that so troubled hisfriend, his conjectures were all far from the truth, and to relievethe anxiety which this perplexity was causing him, he told him hewas doing a grant injustice to their great friendship in seekingcircuitous methods of confiding to him his most hidden thoughts, forbe well knew he might reckon upon his counsel in diverting them, orhis help in carrying them into effect. "that is the truth," replied anselmo, "and relying upon that iwill tell thee, friend lothario, that the desire which harasses meis that of knowing whether my wife cami is as good and as perfectas i think her to be; and i cannot satisfy myself of the truth on thispoint except by testing her in such a way that the trial may prove thepurity of her virtue as the fire proves that of gold; because i ampersuaded, my friend, that a woman is virtuous only in proportion asÉä is or is not tempted; and that Éä alone is strong who does notyield to the promises, gifts, tears, and importunities of earnestlovers; for what thanks does a woman deserve for being good if noone urges her to be bad, and what wonder is it that Éä is reservedand circumspect to whom no opportunity is given of going wrong and whoknows Éä has a husband that will take her life the first time hedetects her in an impropriety? i do not therefore hold her who isvirtuous through fear or want of opportunity in the same estimation aÉär whoes out of temptation and trial with a crown of victory; andso, for these reasons and many others that i could give thee tojustify and support the opinion i hold, i am desirous that my wifecami should pass this crisis, and be refined and tested by the fireof finding herself wooed and by one worthy to set his affectionsupon her; and if Éäes out, as i know Éä will, victorious fromthis struggle, i shall look upon my good fortune as unequalled, ishall be able to say that the cup of my desire is full, and that thevirtuous woman of whom the sage says who shall find her? hasfallen to my lot. and if the result be the contrary of what iexpect, in the satisfaction of knowing that i have been right in myopinion, i shall bear withoutint the pain which my so dearlybought experience will naturally cause me. and, as nothing of all thouwilt urge in opposition to my wish will avail to keep me from carryingit into effect, it is my desire, friend lothario, that thou shouldstconsent to be the instrument for effecting this purpose that iam bent upon, for i will afford thee opportunities to that end, andnothing shall be wanting that i may think necessary for the pursuit ofa virtuous, honourable, modest and high-minded woman. and amongother reasons, i am induced to entrust this arduous task to thee bythe consideration that if cami be conquered by thee the conquestwill not be puÉäd to extremes, but only far enough to ount thatapliÉäd which from a sense of honour will be left undone; thusi shall not be wronged in anything more than intention, and my wrongwill remain buried in the integrity of thy silence, which i knowwell will be assting as that of death in what concerns me. if,therefore, thou wouldst have me enjoy what can be called life, thouwilt at once engage in this love struggle, not lukewarmly norslothfully, but with the energy and zeal that my desire demands, andwith the loyalty our friendship assures me of." such were the words anselmo addressed to lothario, who listened tothem with such attention that, except to say what has been alreadymentioned, he did not open his lips until the other had finiÉäd. thenperceiving that he had no more to say, after regarding him for awhile,as one would regard something never before seen that excited wonderand amazement, he said to him, "i cannot persuade myself, anselmo myfriend, that what thou hast said to me is not in jest; if i thoughtthat thou wert speaking seriously i would not have allowed thee togo so far; so as to put a stop to thy long harangue by not listeningto thee i verily suspect that either thou dost not know me, or i donot know thee; but no, i know well thou art anselmo, and thouknowest that i am lothario; the misfortune is, it seems to me, thatthou art not the anselmo thou wert, and must have thought that i amnot the lothario i should be; for the things that thou hast said to meare not those of that anselmo who was my friend, nor are those thatthou demandest of me what should be asked of the lothario thouknowest. true friends will prove their friends and make use of them,as a poet has said, usque ad aras; whereby he meant that they will notmake use of their friendship in things that are contrary to godswill. if this, then, was a heathens feeling about friendship, howmuch more should it be a christians, who knows that the divine mustnot be forfeited for the sake of any human friendship? and if a friendshould go so far as to put aside his duty to heaven to fulfil his dutyto his friend, it should not be in matters that are trifling or oflittle moment, but in such as affect the friends life and honour. nowtell me, anselmo, in which of these two art thou imperilled, that ishould hazard myself to gratify thee, and do a thing so detestableas that thou seekest of me? neither forsooth; on the contrary, thoudost ask of me, so far as i understand, to strive andbour to robthee of honour and life, and to rob myself of them at the same time;for if i take away thy honour it is in i take away thy life, as aman without honour is worse than dead; and being the instrument, asthou wilt have it so, of so much wrong to thee, shall not i, too, beleft without honour, and consequently without life? listen to me,anselmo my friend, and be not impatient to answer me until i have saidwhat urs to me touching the object of thy desire, for there will betime enough left for thee to reply and for me to hear." "be it so," said anselmo, "say what thou wilt." lothario then went on to say, "it seems to me, anselmo, that thineis just now the temper of mind which is always that of the moors,who can never be brought to see the error of their creed by quotationsfrom the holy scriptures, or by reasons which depend upon theexamination of the understanding or are founded upon the articles offaith, but must have examples that are palpable, easy, intelligible,capable of proof, not admitting of doubt, with mathematicaldemonstrations that cannot be denied, like, if equals be taken fromequals, the remainders are equal: and if they do not understandthis in words, and indeed they do not, it has to be shown to them withthe hands, and put before their eyes, and even with all this no oneseeds in convincing them of the truth of our holy religion. thissame mode of proceeding i shall have to adopt with thee, for thedesire which has sprung up in thee is so absurd and remote fromeverything that has a semnce of reason, that i feel it would be awaste of time to employ it in reasoning with thy simplicity, for atpresent i will call it by no other name; and i am even tempted toleave thee in thy folly as a punishment for thy pernicious desire; butthe friendship i bear thee, which will not allow me to desert theein such manifest danger of destruction, keeps me from dealing soharshly by thee. and that thou mayest clearly see this, say,anselmo, hast thou not told me that i must force my suit upon a modestwoman, decoy one that is virtuous, make overtures to one that ispure-minded, pay court to one that is prudent? yes, thou hast toldme so. then, if thou knowest that thou hast a wife, modest,virtuous, pure-minded and prudent, what is it that thou seekest? andif thou believest that Éä wille forth victorious from all myattacks- as doubtless Éä would- what higher titles than those Éäpossesses now dost thou think thou canst upon her then, or in whatwill Éä be better then than Éä is now? either thou dost not hold herto be what thou sayest, or thou knowest not what thou dost demand.if thou dost not hold her to be what thou why dost thou seek toprove her instead of treating her as guilty in the way that may seembest to thee? but if Éä be as virtuous as thou believest, it is anuncalled-for proceeding to make trial of truth itself, for, aftertrial, it will but be in the same estimation as before. thus, then, itis conclusive that to attempt things from which harm rather thanadvantage maye to us is the part of unreasoning and recklessminds, more especially when they are things which we are not forced opelled to attempt, and which show from afar that it is inlymadness to attempt them.
µÚ61Ò³ "difficulties are attempted either for the sake of god or for thesake of the world, or for both; those undertaken for gods sake arethose which the saints undertake when they attempt to live the livesof angels in human bodies; those undertaken for the sake of theworld are those of the men who traverse such a vast expanse ofwater, such a variety of climates, so many strange countries, toacquire what are called the blessings of fortune; and those undertakenfor the sake of god and the world together are those of bravesoldiers, who no sooner do they see in the enemys wall a breach aswide as a cannon ball could make, than, casting aside all fear,without hesitating, or heeding the manifest peril that threatens them,borne onward by the desire of defending their faith, their country,and their king, they fling themselves dauntlessly into the midst ofthe thousand opposing deaths that await them. such are the things thatmen are wont to attempt, and there is honour, glory, gain, inattempting them, however full of difficulty and peril they may be; butthat which thou sayest it is thy wish to attempt and carry out willnot win thee the glory of god nor the blessings of fortune nor fameamong men; for even if the issue he as thou wouldst have it, thou wiltbe no happier, richer, or more honoured than thou art this moment; andif it be otherwise thou wilt be reduced to misery greater than canbe imagined, for then it will avail thee nothing to reflect that noone is aware of the misfortune that has befallen thee; it will sufficeto torture and crush thee that thou knowest it thyself. and inconfirmation of the truth of what i say, let me repeat to thee astanza made by the famous poet luigi tansillo at the end of thefirst part of his tears of saint peter, which says thus: the anguish and the shame but greater grew in peters heart as morning slowly came; no eye was there to see him, well he knew, yet he himself was to himself a shame; exposed to all mens gaze, or screened from view, a noble heart will feel the pang the same; a prey to shame the sinning soul will be, though none but heaven and earth its shame can see.thus by keeping it secret thou wilt not escape thy sorrow, butrather thou wilt Éäd tears unceasingly, if not tears of the eyes,tears of blood from the heart, like those Éäd by that simple doctorour poet tells us of, that tried the test of the cup, which the wiserinaldo, better advised, refused to do; for though this may be apoetic fiction it contains a moral lesson worthy of attention andstudy and imitation. moreover by what i am about to say to thee thouwilt be led to see the great error thou wouldstmit. "tell me, anselmo, if heaven or good fortune had made thee masterandwful owner of a diamond of the finest quality, with theexcellence and purity of which all thepidaries that had seen it hadbeen satisfied, saying with one voice andmon consent that inpurity, quality, and fineness, it was all that a stone of the kindcould possibly be, thou thyself too being of the same belief, asknowing nothing to the contrary, would it be reasonable in thee todesire to take that diamond and ce it between an anvil and ahammer, and by mere force of blows and strength of arm try if itwere as hard and as fine as they said? and if thou didst, and if thestone should resist so silly a test, that would add nothing to itsvalue or reputation; and if it were broken, as it might be, wouldnot all be lost? undoubtedly it would, leaving its owner to be ratedas a fool in the opinion of all. consider, then, anselmo my friend,that cami is a diamond of the finest quality as well in thyestimation as in that of others, and that it is contrary to reasonto expose her to the risk of being broken; for if Éä remains intactÉä cannot rise to a higher value than Éä now possesses; and if Éägive way and be unable to resist, bethink thee now how thou wilt bedeprived of her, and with what good reason thou wiltin ofthyself for having been the cause of her ruin and thine own.remember there is no jewel in the world so precious as a ²åste andvirtuous woman, and that the whole honour of women consists inreputation; and since thy wifes is of that high excellence thatthou knowest, wherefore shouldst thou seek to call that truth inquestion? remember, my friend, that woman is an imperfect animal,and that impediments are not to be ced in her way to make hertrip and fall, but that they should be removed, and her path leftclear of all obstacles, so that without hindrance Éä may run hercourse freely to attain the desired perfection, which consists inbeing virtuous. naturalists tell us that the ermine is a little animalwhich has a fur of purest white, and that when the hunters wish totake it, they make use of this artifice. having ascertained the ceswhich it frequents and passes, they stop the way to them with mud, andthen rousing it, drive it towards the spot, and as soon as theerminees to the mud it halts, and allows itself to be takencaptive rather than pass through the mire, and spoil and sully itswhiteness, which it values more than life and liberty. the virtuousand ²åste woman is an ermine, and whiter and purer than snow is thevirtue of modesty; and he who wiÉäs her not to lose it, but to keepand preserve it, must adopt a course different from that employed withthe ermine; he must not put before her the mire of the gifts andattentions of persevering lovers, because perhaps- and even withouta perhaps- Éä may not have sufficient virtue and natural strengthin herself to pass through and tread under foot these impediments;they must be removed, and the brightness of virtue and the beauty of afair fame must be put before her. a virtuous woman, too, is like amirror, of clear shining crystal, liable to be tarniÉäd and dimmed byevery breath that touches it. Éä must be treated as relics are;adored, not touched. Éä must be protected and prized as oneprotects and prizes a fair garden full of roses and flowers, the ownerof which allows no one to trespass or pluck a blossom; enough forothers that from afar and through the iron grating they may enjoyits fragrance and its beauty. finally let me repeat to thee someverses thate to my mind; i heard them in a modernedy, and itseems to me they bear upon the point we are discussing. a prudentold man was giving advice to another, the father of a young girl, tolock her up, watch over her and keep her in seclusion, and among otherarguments he used these: woman is a thing of ss; but her brittleness tis best not too curiously to test: who knows what maye to pass? breaking is an easy matter, and its folly to expose what you cannot mend to blows; what you cant make whole to shatter. this, then, all may hold as true, and the reasons in to see; for if danaes there be, there are golden showers too. "all that i have said to thee so far, anselmo, has had referenceto what concerns thee; now it is right that i should say somethingof what regards myself; and if i be prolix, pardon me, for thbyrinth into which thou hast entered and from which thou wouldsthave me extricate thee makes it necessary. "thou dost reckon me thy friend, and thou wouldst rob me ofhonour, a thing wholly inconsistent with friendship; and not only dostthou aim at this, but thou wouldst have me rob thee of it also. thatthou wouldst rob me of it is clear, for when cami sees that i paycourt to her as thou requirest, Éä will certainly regard me as aman without honour or right feeling, since i attempt and do a thing somuch opposed to what i owe to my own position and thy friendship. thatthou wouldst have me rob thee of it is beyond a doubt, for cami,seeing that i press my suit upon her, will suppose that i haveperceived in her something light that has encouraged me to makeknown to her my base desire; and if Éä holds herself dishonoured, herdishonour touches thee as belonging to her; and hence arises what smonly takes ce, that the husband of the adulterous woman, thoughhe may not be aware of or have given any cause for his wifesfailure in her duty, or £¨being careless or negligent£© have had it inhis power to prevent his dishonour, nevertheless is stigmatised by avile and reproachful name, and in a manner regarded with eyes ofcontempt instead of pity by all who know of his wifes guilt, thoughthey see that he is unfortunate not by his own fault, but by thelust of a vicious consort. but i will tell thee why with good reasondishonour attaches to the husband of the un²åste wife, though he knownot that Éä is so, nor be to me, nor have done anything, orgiven any provocation to make her so; and be not weary withlistening to me, for it will be for thy good. "when god created our first parent in the earthly paradise, the holyscripture says that he infused sleep into adam and while he slept tooka rib from his left side of which he formed our mother eve, and whenadam awoke and beheld her he said, this is flesh of my flesh, andbone of my bone. and god said for this shall a man leave hisfather and his mother, and they shall be two in one flesh; and thenwas instituted the divine sacrament of marriage, with such ties thatdeath alone can loose them. and such is the force and virtue of thismiraculous sacrament that it makes two different persons one and thesame flesh; and even more than this when the virtuous are married; forthough they have two souls they have but one will. and hence itfollows that as the flesh of the wife is one and the same with that ofher husband the stains that maye upon it, or the injuries itincurs fall upon the husbands flesh, though he, as has been said, mayhave given no cause for them; for as the pain of the foot or anymember of the body is felt by the whole body, because all is oneflesh, as the head feels the hurt to the ankle without having causedit, so the husband, being one with her, shares the dishonour of thewife; and as all worldly honour or dishonoures of flesh and blood,and the erring wifes is of that kind, the husband must needs bear hispart of it and be held dishonoured without knowing it. see, then,anselmo, the peril thou art encountering in seeking to disturb thepeace of thy virtuous consort; see for what an empty and ill-advisedcuriosity thou wouldst rouse up passions that now repose in quiet inthe breast of thy ²åste wife; reflect that what thou art stakingall to win is little, and what thou wilt lose so much that i leaveit undescribed, not having the words to express it. but if all ihave said be not enough to turn thee from thy vile purpose, thoumust seek some other instrument for thy dishonour and misfortune;for such i will not consent to be, though i lose thy friendship, thegreatest loss that i can conceive."
µÚ62Ò³ having said this, the wise and virtuous lothario was silent, andanselmo, troubled in mind and deep in thought, was unable for awhile to utter a word in reply; but at length he said, "i havelistened, lothario my friend, attentively, as thou hast seen, towhat thou hast chosen to say to me, and in thy arguments, examples,andparisons i have seen that high intelligence thou dostpossess, and the perfection of true friendship thou hast reached;and likewise i see and confess that if i am not guided by thy opinion,but follow my own, i am flying from the good and pursuing the evil.this being so, thou must remember that i am nowbouring under thatinfirmity which women sometimes suffer from, when the craving seizesthem to eat y, ster, ²årcoal, and things even worse, disgustingto look at, much more to eat; so that it will be necessary to haverecourse to some artifice to cure me; and this can be easilyeffected if only thou wilt make a beginning, even though it be in alukewarm and make-believe fashion, to pay court to cami, who willnot be so yielding that her virtue will give way at the firstattack: with this mere attempt i shall rest satisfied, and thou wilthave done what our friendship binds thee to do, not only in givingme life, but in persuading me not to discard my honour. and thisthou art bound to do for one reason alone, that, being, as i am,resolved to apply this test, it is not for thee to permit me to revealmy weakness to another, and so imperil that honour thou art strivingto keep me from losing; and if thine may not stand as high as it oughtin the estimation of cami while thou art paying court to her,that is of little or no importance, because ere long, on finding inher that constancy which we expect, thou canst tell her the intruth as regards our stratagem, and so regain thy ce in her esteem;and as thou art venturing so little, and by the venture canst affordme so much satisfaction, refuse not to undertake it, even if furtherdifficulties present themselves to thee; for, as i have said, ifthou wilt only make a beginning i will acknowledge the issue decided." lothario seeing the fixed determination of anselmo, and notknowing what further examples to offer or arguments to urge in orderto dissuade him from it, and perceiving that he threatened toconfide his pernicious scheme to some one else, to avoid a greaterevil resolved to gratify him and do what he asked, intending to managethe business so as to satisfy anselmo without corrupting the mind ofcami; so in reply he told him not tomunicate his purpose to anyother, for he would undertake the task himself, and would begin itas soon as he pleased. anselmo embraced him warmly and affectionately,and thanked him for his offer as if he had bestowed some greatfavour upon him; and it was agreed between them to set about it thenext day, anselmo affording opportunity and time to lothario toconverse alone with cami, and furnishing him with money andjewels to offer and present to her. he suggested, too, that heshould treat her to music, and write verses in her praise, and if hewas unwilling to take the trouble ofposing them, he offered todo it himself. lothario agreed to all with an intention very differentfrom what anselmo supposed, and with this understanding theyreturned to anselmos house, where they found cami awaiting herhusband anxiously and uneasily, for he waster than usual inreturning that day. lothario repaired to his own house, and anselmoremained in his, as well satisfied as lothario was troubled in mind;for he could see no satisfactory way out of this ill-advised business.that night, however, he thought of a n by which he might deceiveanselmo without any injury to cami. the next day he went to dinewith his friend, and was weed by cami, who received and treatedhim with great cordiality, knowing the affection her husband feltfor him. when dinner was over and the cloth removed, anselmo toldlothario to stay there with cami while he attended to some pressingbusiness, as he would return in an hour and a half. cami begged himnot to go, and lothario offered to apany him, but nothing couldpersuade anselmo, who on the contrary pressed lothario to remainwaiting for him as he had a matter of great importance to discuss withhim. at the same time he bade cami not to leave lothario aloneuntil he came back. in short he contrived to put so good a face on thereason, or the folly, of his absence that no one could havesuspected it was a pretence. anselmo took his departure, and cami and lothario were left aloneat the table, for the rest of the household had gone to dinner.lothario saw himself in the lists ording to his friends wish,and facing an enemy that could by her beauty alone vanquish a squadronof armed knights; judge whether he had good reason to fear; but whathe did was to lean his elbow on the arm of the ²åir, and his cheekupon his hand, and, asking camis pardon for his ill manners, hesaid he wiÉäd to take a little sleep until anselmo returned.cami in reply said he could repose more at his ease in thereception-room than in his ²åir, and begged of him to go in and sleepthere; but lothario declined, and there he remained asleep until thereturn of anselmo, who finding cami in her own room, and lotharioasleep, imagined that he had stayed away so long as to have affordedthem time enough for conversation and even for sleep, and was allimpatience until lothario should wake up, that he might go out withhim and question him as to his sess. everything fell out as hewiÉäd; lothario awoke, and the two at once left the house, andanselmo asked what he was anxious to know, and lothario in answer toldhim that he had not thought it advisable to dere himself entirelythe first time, and therefore had only extolled the ²årms of cami,telling her that all the city spoke of nothing else but her beauty andwit, for this seemed to him an excellent way of beginning to gainher good-will and render her disposed to listen to him with pleasurethe next time, thus availing himself of the device the devil hasrecourse to when he would deceive one who is on the watch; for hebeing the angel of darkness transforms himself into an angel of light,and, under cover of a fair seeming, discloses himself at length, andeffects his purpose if at the beginning his wiles are notdiscovered. all this gave great satisfaction to anselmo, and he saidhe would afford the same opportunity every day, but without leavingthe house, for he would find things to do at home so that camishould not detect the plot. thus, then, several days went by, and lothario, without uttering aword to cami, reported to anselmo that he had talked with her andthat he had never been able to draw from her the slightestindication of consent to anything dishonourable, nor even a sign orshadow of hope; on the contrary, he said Éä would inform herhusband of it. "so far well," said anselmo; "cami has thus far resisted words;we must now see how Éä will resist deeds. i will give you to-morrowtwo thousand crowns in gold for you to offer or even present, and asmany more to buy jewels to lure her, for women are fond of beingbingly attired and going gaily dressed, and all the more so ifthey are beautiful, however ²åste they may be; and if Éä resiststhis temptation, i will rest satisfied and will give you no moretrouble." lothario replied that now he had begun he would carry on theundertaking to the end, though he perceived he was toe out of itwearied and vanquiÉäd. the next day he received the four thousandcrowns, and with them four thousand perplexities, for he knew not whatto say by way of a new falsehood; but in the end he made up his mindto tell him that cami stood as firm against gifts and promises asagainst words, and that there was no use in taking any furthertrouble, for the time was all spent to no purpose. but ²ånce, directing things in a different manner, so ordered itthat anselmo, having left lothario and cami alone as on otherasions, shut himself into a ²åmber and posted himself to watch andlisten through the keyhole to what passed between them, andperceived that for more than half an hour lothario did not utter aword to cami, nor would utter a word though he were to be there foran age; and he came to the conclusion that what his friend had toldhim about the replies of cami was all invention and falsehood,and to ascertain if it were so, he came out, and calling lotharioaside asked him what news he had and in what humour cami was.lothario replied that he was not disposed to go on with thebusiness, for Éä had answered him so angrily and harshly that hehad no heart to say anything more to her. "ah, lothario, lothario," said anselmo, "how ill dost thou meetthy obligations to me, and the great confidence i repose in thee! ihave been just now watching through this keyhole, and i have seen thatthou has not said a word to cami, whence i conclude that on theformer asions thou hast not spoken to her either, and if this beso, as no doubt it is, why dost thou deceive me, or whereforeseekest thou by craft to deprive me of the means i might find ofattaining my desire?" anselmo said no more, but he had said enough to cover lothariowith shame and confusion, and he, feeling as it were his honourtouched by having been detected in a lie, swore to anselmo that hewould from that moment devote himself to satisfying him without anydeception, as he would see if he had the curiosity to watch; though heneed not take the trouble, for the pains he would take to satisfyhim would remove all suspicions from his mind. anselmo believed him,and to afford him an opportunity more free and less liable tosurprise, he resolved to absent himself from his house for eight days,betaking himself to that of a friend of his who lived in a vige notfar from the city; and, the better to ount for his departure tocami, he so arranged it that the friend should send him a verypressing invitation.
µÚ63Ò³ unhappy, shortsighted anselmo, what art thou doing, what art thouplotting, what art thou devising? bethink thee thou art workingagainst thyself, plotting thine own dishonour, devising thine ownruin. thy wife cami is virtuous, thou dost possess her in peace andquietness, no one assails thy happiness, her thoughts wander notbeyond the walls of thy house, thou art her heaven on earth, theobject of her wiÉäs, the fulfilment of her desires, the measurewherewith Éä measures her will, making it conform in all things tothine and heavens. if, then, the mine of her honour, beauty,virtue, and modesty yields thee withoutbour all the wealth itcontains and thou canst wish for, why wilt thou dig the earth insearch of fresh veins, of new unknown treasure, risking the copseof all, since it but rests on the feeble props of her weak nature?bethink thee that from him who seeks impossibilities that which ispossible may with justice be withheld, as was better expressed by apoet who said: tis mine to seek for life in death, health in disease seek i, i seek in prison freedoms breath, in traitors loyalty. so fate that ever scorns to grant or grace or boon to me, since what can never be i want, denies me what might be. the next day anselmo took his departure for the vige, leavinginstructions with cami that during his absence lothario woule to look after his house and to dine with her, and that Éä was totreat him as Éä would himself. cami was distressed, as adiscreet and right-minded woman would be, at the orders her husbandleft her, and bade him remember that it was not bing that anyoneshould upy his seat at the table during his absence, and if heacted thus from not feeling confidence that Éä would be able tomanage his house, let him try her this time, and he would find byexperience that Éä was equal to greater responsibilities. anselmoreplied that it was his pleasure to have it so, and that Éä hadonly to submit and obey. cami said Éä would do so, thoughagainst her will. anselmo went, and the next day lothario came to his house, wherehe was received by cami with a friendly and modest wee; but Éänever suffered lothario to see her alone, for Éä was alwaysattended by her men and women servants, especially by a handmaid ofhers, leon by name, to whom Éä was much attached £¨for they hadbeen brought up together from childhood in her fathers house£©£¬ andwhom Éä had kept with her after her marriage with anselmo. thefirst three days lothario did not speak to her, though he might havedone so when they removed the cloth and the servants retired to dinehastily; for such were camis orders; nay more, leon haddirections to dine earlier than cami and never to leave her side.Éä, however, having her thoughts fixed upon other things more toher taste, and wanting that time and opportunity for her ownpleasures, did not always obey her mistresssmands, but on thecontrary left them alone, as if they had ordered her to do so; but themodest bearing of cami, the calmness of her countenance, thposure of her aspect were enough to bridle the tongue oflothario. but the influence which the many virtues of camiexerted in imposing silence on lotharios tongue proved mischievousfor both of them, for if his tongue was silent his thoughts were busy,and could dwell at leisure upon the perfections of camisgoodness and beauty one by one, ²årms enough to warm with love amarble statue, not to say a heart of flesh. lothario gazed upon herwhen he might have been speaking to her, and thought how worthy ofbeing loved Éä was; and thus reflection began little by little toassail his allegiance to anselmo, and a thousand times he thought ofwithdrawing from the city and going where anselmo should never see himnor he see cami. but already the delight he found in gazing onher interposed and held him fast. he put a constraint upon himself,and struggled to repel and repress the pleasure he found incontemting cami; when alone he med himself for hisweakness, called himself a bad friend, nay a bad christian; then heargued the matter andpared himself with anselmo; alwaysingto the conclusion that the folly and rashness of anselmo had beenworse than his faithlessness, and that if he could excuse hisintentions as easily before god as with man, he had no reason tofear any punishment for his offence. in short the beauty and goodness of cami, joined with theopportunity which the blind husband had ced in his hands, overthrewthe loyalty of lothario; and giving heed to nothing save the objecttowards which his inclinations led him, after anselmo had been threedays absent, during which he had been carrying on a continual strugglewith his passion, he began to make love to cami with so muchvehemence and warmth ofnguage that Éä was overwhelmed withamazement, and could only rise from her ce and retire to her roomwithout answering him a word. but the hope which always springs upwith love was not weakened in lothario by this repelling demeanour; onthe contrary his passion for cami increased, and Éä discovering inhim what Éä had never expected, knew not what to do; andconsidering it neither safe nor right to give him the ²ånce oropportunity of speaking to her again, Éä resolved to send, as Éä didthat very night, one of her servants with a letter to anselmo, inwhich Éä addressed the following words to him. ²åpter xxxiv in which is continued the novel of "the ill-advised curiosity" "it ismonly said that an army looks ill without its genernd a castle without its casten, and i say that a young marriedwoman looks still worse without her husband unless there are very goodreasons for it. i find myself so ill at ease without you, and soincapable of enduring this separation, that unless you returnquickly i shall have to go for relief to my parents house, even ifi leave yours without a protector; for the one you left me, ifindeed he deserved that title, has, i think, more regard to his ownpleasure than to what concerns you: as you are possessed ofdiscernment i need say no more to you, nor indeed is it fitting ishould say more." anselmo received this letter, and from it he gathered thatlothario had already begun his task and that cami must have repliedto him as he would have wiÉäd; and delighted beyond measure at suchintelligence he sent word to her not to leave his house on anyount, as he would very shortly return. cami was astoniÉäd atanselmos reply, which ced her in greater perplexity than before,for Éä neither dared to remain in her own house, nor yet to go to herparents; for in remaining her virtue was imperilled, and in going Éäwas opposing her husbandsmands. finally Éä decided upon what wasthe worse course for her, to remain, resolving not to fly from thepresence of lothario, that Éä might not give food for gossip to herservants; and Éä now began to regret having written as Éä had to herhusband, fearing he might imagine that lothario had perceived in hersome lightness which had impelled him toy aside the respect he owedher; but confident of her rectitude Éä put her trust in god and inher own virtuous intentions, with which Éä hoped to resist in silenceall the solicitations of lothario, without saying anything to herhusband so as not to involve him in any quarrel or trouble; and Éäeven began to consider how to excuse lothario to anselmo when heshould ask her what it was that induced her to write that letter. withthese resolutions, more honourable than judicious or effectual, Éäremained the next day listening to lothario, who pressed his suit sostrenuously that camis firmness began to waver, and her virtue hadenough to do toe to the rescue of her eyes and keep them fromshowing signs of a certain tenderpassion which the tears andappeals of lothario had awakened in her bosom. lothario observed allthis, and it inmed him all the more. in short he felt that whileanselmos absence afforded time and opportunity he must press thesiege of the fortress, and so he assailed her self-esteem with praisesof her beauty, for there is nothing that more quickly reduces andlevels the castle towers of fair womens vanity than vanity itselfupon the tongue of ttery. in fact with the utmost assiduity heundermined the rock of her purity with such engines that had camibeen of brass Éä must have fallen. he wept, he entreated, hepromised, he ttered, he importuned, he pretended with so muchfeeling and apparent sincerity, that he overthrew the virtuousresolves of cami and won the triumph he least expected and mostlonged for. cami yielded, cami fell; but what wonder if thefriendship of lothario could not stand firm? a clear proof to usthat the passion of love is to be conquered only by flying from it,and that no one should engage in a struggle with an enemy so mighty;for divine strength is needed to ovee his human power. leonalone knew of her mistresss weakness, for the two false friends andnew lovers were unable to conceal it. lothario did not care to tellcami the object anselmo had in view, nor that he had afforded himthe opportunity of attaining such a result, lest Éä should undervaluehis love and think that it was by ²ånce and without intending itand not of his own ord that he had made love to her. a few dayster anselmo returned to his house and did notperceive what it had lost, that which he so lightly treated and sohighly prized. he went at once to see lothario, and found him at home;they embraced each other, and anselmo asked for the tidings of hislife or his death. "the tidings i have to give thee, anselmo my friend," said lothario,"are that thou dost possess a wife that is worthy to be the patternand crown of all good wives. the words that i have addressed to herwere borne away on the wind, my promises have been despised, mypresents have been refused, such feigned tears as i Éäd have beenturned into open ridicule. in short, as cami is the essence ofall beauty, so is Éä the treasure-house where purity dwells, andgentleness and modesty abide with all the virtues that can conferpraise, honour, and happiness upon a woman. take back thy money, myfriend; here it is, and i have had no need to touch it, for the²åstity of cami yields not to things so base as gifts or promises.be content, anselmo, and refrain from making further proof; and asthou hast passed dryshod through the sea of those doubts andsuspicions that are and may be entertained of women, seek not toplunge again into the deep ocean of new embarrassments, or withanother pilot make trial of the goodness and strength of the bark thatheaven has granted thee for thy passage across the sea of thisworld; but reckon thyself now safe in port, moor thyself with theanchor of sound reflection, and rest in peace until thou art calledupon to pay that debt which no nobility on earth can escape paying."
µÚ64Ò³ anselmo waspletely satisfied by the words of lothario, andbelieved them as fully as if they had been spoken by an oracle;nevertheless he begged of him not to relinquish the undertaking,were it but for the sake of curiosity and amusement; thoughthenceforward he need not make use of the same earnest endeavours asbefore; all he wiÉäd him to do was to write some verses to her,praising her under the name of chloris, for he himself would giveher to understand that he was in love with ady to whom he had giventhat name to enable him to sing her praises with the decorum due toher modesty; and if lothario were unwilling to take the trouble ofwriting the verses he wouldpose them himself. "that will not be necessary," said lothario, "for the muses arenot such enemies of mine but that they visit me now and then in thecourse of the year. do thou tell cami what thou hast proposed abouta pretended amour of mine; as for the verses will make them, and ifnot as good as the subject deserves, they shall be at least the best ican produce." an agreement to this effect was made between thefriends, the ill-advised one and the treacherous, and anselmoreturning to his house asked cami the question Éä already wonderedhe had not asked before- what it was that had caused her to writethe letter Éä had sent him. cami replied that it had seemed to herthat lothario looked at her somewhat more freely than when he had beenat home; but that now Éä was undeceived and believed it to havebeen only her own imagination, for lothario now avoided seeing her, orbeing alone with her. anselmo told her Éä might be quite easy onthe score of that suspicion, for he knew that lothario was in lovewith a damsel of rank in the city whom he celebrated under the name ofchloris, and that even if he were not, his fidelity and their greatfriendship left no room for fear. had not cami, however, beeninformed beforehand by lothario that this love for chloris was apretence, and that he himself had told anselmo of it in order to beable sometimes to give utterance to the praises of cami herself, nodoubt Éä would have fallen into the despairing toils of jealousy; butbeing forewarned Éä received the startling news without uneasiness. the next day as the three were at table anselmo asked lothario torecite something of what he hadposed for his mistress chloris; foras cami did not know her, he might safely say what he liked. "even did Éä know her," returned lothario, "i would hide nothing,for when a lover praises hisdys beauty, and ²årges her withcruelty, he casts no imputation upon her fair name; at any rate, all ican say is that yesterday i made a so on the ingratitude of thischloris, which goes thus: so at midnight, in the silence, when the eyes of happier mortals balmy slumbers close, the weary tale of my unnumbered woes to chloris and to heaven is wont to rise. and when the light of day returning dyes the portals of the east with tints of rose, with undiminiÉäd force my sorrow flows in broken ents and in burning sighs. and when the sun ascends his star-girt throne, and on the earth pours down his midday beams, noon but renews my wailing and my tears; and with the night again goes up my moan. yet ever in my agony it seems to me that neither heaven nor chloris hears." the so pleased cami, and still more anselmo, for he praisedit and said thedy was excessively cruel who made no return forsincerity so manifest. on which cami said, "then all thatlove-smitten poets say is true?" "as poets they do not tell the truth," replied lothario; "but aslovers they are not more defective in expression than they aretruthful." "there is no doubt of that," observed anselmo, anxious to supportand uphold lotharios ideas with cami, who was as regardless of hisdesign as Éä was deep in love with lothario; and so taking delight inanything that was his, and knowing that his thoughts and writingshad her for their object, and that Éä herself was the real chloris,Éä asked him to repeat some other so or verses if herecollected any. "i do," replied lothario, "but i do not think it as good as thefirst one, or, more correctly speaking, less bad; but you can easilyjudge, for it is this. so i know that i am doomed; death is to me as certain as that thou, ungrateful fair, dead at thy feet shouldst see me lying, ere my heart repented of its love for thee. if buried in oblivion i should be, bereft of life, fame, favour, even there it would be found that i thy image bear deep graven in my breast for all to see. this like some holy relic do i prize to save me from the fate my truth entails, truth that to thy hard heart its vigour owes. s for him that under lowering skies, in peril oer a trackless ocean sails, where neither friendly port nor pole-star shows." anselmo praised this second so too, as he had praised the first;and so he went on adding link after link to the ²åin with which hewas binding himself and making his dishonour secure; for when lothariowas doing most to dishonour him he told him he was most honoured;and thus each step that cami descended towards the depths of herabasement, Éä mounted, in his opinion, towards the summit of virtueand fair fame. it so happened that finding herself on one asion alone with hermaid, cami said to her, "i am ashamed to think, my dear leon,how lightly i have valued myself that i did notpel lothario topur²åse by at least some expenditure of time that full possessionof me that i so quickly yielded him of my own free will. i fear thathe will think ill of my pliancy or lightness, not considering theirresistible influence he brought to bear upon me." "let not that trouble you, mydy," said leon, "for it doesnot take away the value of the thing given or make it the lessprecious to give it quickly if it be really valuable and worthy ofbeing prized; nay, they are wont to say that he who gives quicklygives twice." "they say also," said cami, "that what costs little is valuedless." "that saying does not hold good in your case," replied leon, "forlove, as i have heard say, sometimes flies and sometimes walks; withthis one it runs, with that it moves slowly; some it cools, othersit burns; some it wounds, others it ys; it begins the course of itsdesires, and at the same momentpletes and ends it; in themorning it willy siege to a fortress and by night will have takenit, for there is no power that can resist it; so what are you in dreadof, what do you fear, when the same must have befallen lothario,love having chosen the absence of my lord as the instrument forsubduing you? and it was absolutely necessary toplete then whatlove had resolved upon, without affording the time to let anselmoreturn and by his presencepel the work to be left unfiniÉäd;for love has no better agent for carrying out his designs thanopportunity; and of opportunity he avails himself in all his feats,especially at the outset. all this i know well myself, more byexperience than by hearsay, and some day, senora, i will enlighten youon the subject, for i am of your flesh and blood too. moreover,dycami, you did not surrender yourself or yield so quickly but thatfirst you saw lotharios whole soul in his eyes, in his sighs, inhis words, his promises and his gifts, and by it and his goodqualities perceived how worthy he was of your love. this, then,being the case, let not these scrupulous and prudish ideas troubleyour imagination, but be assured that lothario prizes you as you dohim, and rest content and satisfied that as you are caught in thenoose of love it is one of worth and merit that has taken you, and hat has not only the four ss that they say true lovers ought tohave, but aplete alphabet; only listen to me and you will seehow i can repeat it by rote. he is to my eyes and thinking, amiable,brave, courteous, distinguiÉäd, elegant, fond, gay, honourable,illustrious, loyal, manly, noble, open, polite, quickwitted, rich, andthe ss ording to the saying, and then tender, veracious: x doesnot suit him, for it is a rough letter; y has been given already;and z zealous for your honour." camiughed at her maids alphabet, and perceived her to be moreexperienced in love affairs than Éä said, which Éä admitted,confessing to cami that Éä had love passages with a young man ofgood birth of the same city. cami was uneasy at this, dreading lestit might prove the means of endangering her honour, and askedwhether her intrigue had gone beyond words, and Éä with littleshame and much effrontery said it had; for certain it is thadies imprudences make servants shameless, who, when they seetheir mistresses make a false step, think nothing of going astraythemselves, or of its being known. all that cami could do was toentreat leon to say nothing about her doings to him whom Éä calledher lover, and to conduct her own affairs secretly lest they shoule to the knowledge of anselmo or of lothario. leon said Éäwould, but kept her word in such a way that Éä confirmed camisapprehension of losing her reputation through her means; for thisabandoned and bold leon, as soon as Éä perceived that hermistresss demeanour was not what it was wont to be, had theaudacity to introduce her lover into the house, confident that even ifher mistress saw him Éä would not dare to expose him; for the sins ofmistresses entail this mischief among others; they make themselves theves of their own servants, and are obliged to hide theirxitiesand depravities; as was the case with cami, who though Éäperceived, not once but many times, that leon was with her lover insome room of the house, not only did not dare to chide her, butafforded her opportunities for concealing him and removed alldifficulties, lest he should be seen by her husband. Éä was unable,however, to prevent him from being seen on one asion, as he salliedforth at daybreak, by lothario, who, not knowing who he was, atfirst took him for a spectre; but, as soon as he saw him hastenaway, muffling his face with his cloak and concealing himselfcarefully and cautiously, he rejected this foolish idea, and adoptedanother, which would have been the ruin of all had not cami found aremedy. it did not ur to lothario that this man he had seen issuingat such an untimely hour from anselmos house could have entered it onleons ount, nor did he even remember there was such a person asleon; all he thought was that as cami had been light andyielding with him, so Éä had been with another; for this furtherpenalty the erring womans sin brings with it, that her honour isdistrusted even by him to whose overtures and persuasions Éä hasyielded; and he believes her to have surrendered more easily toothers, and gives implicit credence to every suspicion thates intohis mind. all lotharios good sense seems to have failed him at thisjuncture; all his prudent maxims escaped his memory; for withoutonce reflecting rationally, and without more ado, in his impatienceand in the blindness of the jealous rage that gnawed his heart, anddying to revenge himself upon cami, who had done him no wrong,before anselmo had risen he hastened to him and said to him, "know,anselmo, that for several days past i have been struggling withmyself, striving to withhold from thee what it is no longer possibleor right that i should conceal from thee. know that camis fortresshas surrendered and is ready to submit to my will; and if i havebeen slow to reveal this fact to thee, it was in order to see if itwere some light caprice of hers, or if Éä sought to try me andascertain if the love i began to make to her with thy permission wasmade with a serious intention. i thought, too, that Éä, if Éä werewhat Éä ought to be, and what we both believed her, would have erethis given thee information of my addresses; but seeing that Éädys, i believe the truth of the promise Éä has given me that thenext time thou art absent from the house Éä will grant me aninterview in the closet where thy jewels are kept £¨and it was truethat cami used to meet him there£©£» but i do not wish thee to rushprecipitately to take vengeance, for the sin is as yet onlmitted in intention, and camis may ²ånge perhaps betweenthis and the appointed time, and repentance spring up in its ce. ashitherto thou hast always followed my advice wholly or in part, followand observe this that i will give thee now, so that, withoutmistake, and with mature deliberation, thou mayest satisfy thyselfas to what may seem the best course; pretend to absent thyself for twoor three days as thou hast been wont to do on other asions, andcontrive to hide thyself in the closet; for the tapestries and otherthings there afford great facilities for thy concealment, and thenthou wilt see with thine own eyes and i with mine what camispurpose may be. and if it be a guilty one, which may be fearedrather than expected, with silence, prudence, and discretion thoucanst thyself be the instrument of punishment for the wrong dhee."
µÚ65Ò³ anselmo was amazed, overwhelmed, and astounded at the words oflothario, which came upon him at a time when he least expected to hearthem, for he now looked upon cami as having triumphed over thepretended attacks of lothario, and was beginning to enjoy the glory ofher victory. he remained silent for a considerable time, looking onthe ground with fixed gaze, and at length said, "thou hast behaved,lothario, as i expected of thy friendship: i will follow thy advice ineverything; do as thou wilt, and keep this secret as thou seest itshould be kept in circumstances so unlooked for." lothario gave him his word, but after leaving him he repentedaltogether of what he had said to him, perceiving how foolishly he hadacted, as he might have revenged himself upon cami in some lesscruel and degrading way. he cursed his want of sense, condemned hishasty resolution, and knew not what course to take to undo themischief or find some ready escape from it. atst he decided uponrevealing all to cami, and, as there was no want of opportunity fordoing so, he found her alone the same day; but Éä, as soon as Éä hadthe ²ånce of speaking to him, said, "lothario my friend, i musttell thee i have a sorrow in my heart which fills it so that itseems ready to burst; and it will be a wonder if it does not; forthe audacity of leon has now reached such a pitch that everynight Éä conceals a gant of hers in this house and remains withhim till morning, at the expense of my reputation; inasmuch as it isopen to anyone to question it who may see him quitting my house atsuch unseasonable hours; but what distresses me is that i cannotpunish or chide her, for her privity to our intrigue bridles mymouth and keeps me silent about hers, while i am dreading that somecatastrophe wille of it." as cami said this lothario at first imagined it was some deviceto delude him into the idea that the man he had seen going out wasleons lover and not hers; but when he saw how Éä wept andsuffered, and begged him to help her, he became convinced of thetruth, and the convictionpleted his confusion and remorse;however, he told cami not to distress herself, as he would takemeasures to put a stop to the insolence of leon. at the same timehe told her what, driven by the fierce rage of jealousy, he had saidto anselmo, and how he had arranged to hide himself in the closet thathe might there see inly how little Éä preserved her fidelity tohim; and he entreated her pardon for this madness, and her advice asto how to repair it, and escape safely from the intricatebyrinth inwhich his imprudence had involved him. cami was struck with rmat hearing what lothario said, and with much anger, and great goodsense, Éä reproved him and rebuked his base design and the foolishand mischievous resolution he had made; but as woman has by nature animbler wit than man for good and for evil, though it is apt to failwhen Éä sets herself deliberately to reason, cami on the spur ofthe moment thought of a way to remedy what was to all appearanceirremediable, and told lothario to contrive that the next dayanselmo should conceal himself in the ce he mentioned, for Éähoped from his concealment to obtain the means of their enjoyingthemselves for the future without any apprehension; and withoutrevealing her purpose to him entirely Éä ²årged him to be careful,as soon as anselmo was concealed, toe to her when leon shouldcall him, and to all Éä said to him to answer as he would haveanswered had he not known that anselmo was listening. lothario pressedher to exin her intention fully, so that he might with morecertainty and precaution take care to do what he saw to be needful. "i tell you," said cami, "there is nothing to take care of exceptto answer me what i shall ask you;" for Éä did not wish to exin tohim beforehand what Éä meant to do, fearing lest he should beunwilling to follow out an idea which seemed to her such a good one,and should try or devise some other less practicable n. lothario then retired, and the next day anselmo, under pretence ofgoing to his friends country house, took his departure, and thenreturned to conceal himself, which he was able to do easily, ascami and leon took care to give him the opportunity; and so heced himself in hiding in the state of agitation that it may beimagined he would feel who expected to see the vitals of his honouid bare before his eyes, and found himself on the point of losingthe supreme blessing he thought he possessed in his beloved cami.having made sure of anselmos being in his hiding-ce, cami andleon entered the closet, and the instant Éä set foot within itcami said, with a deep sigh, "ah! dear leon, would it not bebetter, before i do what i am unwilling you should know lest youshould seek to prevent it, that you should take anselmos daggerthat i have asked of you and with it pierce this vile heart of mine?but no; there is no reason why i should suffer the punishment ofanothers fault. i will first know what it is that the bold licentiouseyes of lothario have seen in me that could have encouraged him toreveal to me a design so base as that which he has disclosedregardless of his friend and of my honour. go to the window,leon, and call him, for no doubt he is in the street waiting tocarry out his vile project; but mine, cruel it may be, but honourable,shall be carried out first." "ah, senora," said the crafty leon, who knew her part, "what isit you want to do with this dagger? can it be that you mean to takeyour own life, or lotharios? for whichever you mean to do, it willlead to the loss of your reputation and good name. it is better todissemble your wrong and not give this wicked man the ²ånce ofentering the house now and finding us alone; consider, senora, weare weak women and he is a man, and determined, and as hees withsuch a base purpose, blind and urged by passion, perhaps before youcan put yours into execution he may do what will be worse for you thantaking your life. ill betide my master, anselmo, for giving su²åuthority in his house to this shameless fellow! and supposing youkill him, senora, as i suspect you mean to do, what shall we do withhim when he is dead?" "what, my friend?" replied cami, "we shall leave him foranselmo to bury him; for in reason it will be to him a lightbour tohide his own infamy under ground. summon him, make haste, for allthe time i dy in taking vengeance for my wrong seems to me anoffence against the loyalty i owe my husband." anselmo was listening to all this, and every word that camiuttered made him ²ånge his mind; but when he heard that it wasresolved to kill lothario his first impulse was toe out and showhimself to avert such a disaster; but in his anxiety to see theissue of a resolution so bold and virtuous he restrained himself,intending toe forth in time to prevent the deed. at this momentcami, throwing herself upon a bed that was close by, swoonedaway, and leon began to weep bitterly, eximing, "woe is me! thati should be fated to have dying here in my arms the flower of virtueupon earth, the crown of true wives, the pattern of ²åstity!" withmore to the same effect, so that anyone who heard her would have takenher for the most tender-hearted and faithful handmaid in the world,and her mistress for another persecuted penelope. cami was not long in recovering from her fainting fit and oing to herself Éä said, "why do you not go, leon, to callhither that friend, the falsest to his friend the sun ever shoneupon or night concealed? away, run, haste, speed! lest the fire ofmy wrath burn itself out with dy, and the righteous vengeancethat i hope for melt away in menaces and maledictions." "i am just going to call him, senora," said leon; "but you mustfirst give me that dagger, lest while i am gone you should by means ofit give cause to all who love you to weep all their lives." "go in peace, dear leon, i will not do so," said cami, "forrash and foolish as i may be, to your mind, in defending my honour,i am not going to be so much so as that lucretia who they say killedherself without having done anything wrong, and without having firstkilled him on whom the guilt of her misfortuney. i shall die, ifi am to die; but it must be after full vengeance upon him who hasbrought me here to weep over audacity that no fault of mine gave birthto." leon required much pressing before Éä would go to summonlothario, but atst Éä went, and while awaiting her returncami continued, as if speaking to herself, "good god! would itnot have been more prudent to have repulsed lothario, as i have donemany a time before, than to allow him, as i am now doing, to thinkme un²åste and vile, even for the short time i must wait until iundeceive him? no doubt it would have been better; but i should not beavenged, nor the honour of my husband vindicated, should he find soclear and easy an escape from the strait into which his depravityhas led him. let the traitor pay with his life for the temerity of hiswanton wiÉäs, and let the world know £¨if haply it shall evereto know£© that cami not only preserved her allegiance to herhusband, but avenged him of the man who dared to wrong him. still, ithink it might be better to disclose this to anselmo. but then ihave called his attention to it in the letter i wrote to him in thecountry, and, if he did nothing to prevent the mischief i therepointed out to him, i suppose it was that from pure goodness ofheart and trustfulness he would not and could not believe that anythought against his honour could harbour in the breast of so stan²å friend; nor indeed did i myself believe it for many days, nor shouldi have ever believed it if his insolence had not gone so far as tomake it manifest by open presents,vish promises, and ceaselesstears. but why do i argue thus? does a bold determination stand inneed of arguments? surely not. then traitors avaunt! vengeance to myaid! let the false onee, approach, advance, die, yield up hislife, and then befall what may. pure i came to him whom heavenbestowed upon me, pure i shall leave him; and at the worst bathed inmy own ²åste blood and in the foul blood of the falsest friend thatfriendship ever saw in the world;" and as Éä uttered these wordsÉä paced the room holding the unÉäathed dagger, with suchirregr and disordered steps, and such gestures that one wouldhave supposed her to have lost her senses, and taken her for someviolent desperado instead of a delicate woman.
µÚ66Ò³ anselmo, hidden behind some tapestries where he had concealedhimself, beheld and was amazed at all, and already felt that what hehad seen and heard was a sufficient answer to even greater suspicions;and he would have been now well pleased if the proof afforded bylothariosing were dispensed with, as he feared some suddenmishap; but as he was on the point of showing himself anding forthto embrace and undeceive his wife he paused as he saw leonreturning, leading lothario. cami when Éä saw him, drawing along line in front of her on the floor with the dagger, said to him,"lothario, pay attention to what i say to thee: if by any ²åncethou darest to cross this line thou seest, or even approach it, theinstant i see thee attempt it that same instant will i pierce my bosomwith this dagger that i hold in my hand; and before thou answerestme a word desire thee to listen to a few from me, and afterwardsthou shalt reply as may please thee. first, i desire thee to tellme, lothario, if thou knowest my husband anselmo, and in what lightthou regardest him; and secondly i desire to know if thou knowest metoo. answer me this, without embarrassment or reflecting deeply whatthou wilt answer, for they are no riddles i put to thee." lothario was not so dull but that from the first moment when camidirected him to make anselmo hide himself he understood what Éäintended to do, and therefore he fell in with her idea so readilyand promptly that between them they made the imposture look moretrue than truth; so he answered her thus: "i did not think, faircami, that thou wert calling me to ask questions so remote from theobject with which ie; but if it is to defer the promised rewardthou art doing so, thou mightst have put it off still longer, forthe longing for happiness gives the more distress the neareres thehope of gaining it; but lest thou shouldst say that i do not answerthy questions, i say that i know thy husband anselmo, and that we haveknown each other from our earliest years; i will not speak of whatthou too knowest, of our friendship, that i may notpel myself totestify against the wrong that love, the mighty excuse for greatererrors, makes me inflict upon him. thee i know and hold in the sameestimation as he does, for were it not so i had not for a lesser prizeacted in opposition to what i owe to my station and the holyws oftrue friendship, now broken and vited by me through that powerfulenemy, love." "if thou dost confess that," returned cami, "mortal enemy ofall that rightly deserves to be loved, with what face dost thou daretoe before one whom thou knowest to be the mirror wherein he isreflected on whom thou shouldst look to see how unworthily thou him?but, woe is me, i nowprehend what has made thee give so littleheed to what thou owest to thyself; it must have been some freedomof mine, for i will not call it immodesty, as it did not proceedfrom any deliberate intention, but from some heedlessness such aswomen are guilty of through inadvertence when they think they haveno asion for reserve. but tell me, traitor, when did i by word orsign give a reply to thy prayers that could awaken in thee a shadow ofhope of attaining thy base wiÉäs? when were not thy professions oflove sternly and scornfully rejected and rebuked? when were thyfrequent pledges and still more frequent gifts believed or epted?but as i am persuaded that no one can long persevere in the attempt towin love unsustained by some hope, i am willing to attribute to myselfthe me of thy assurance, for no doubt some thoughtlessness ofmine has all this time fostered thy hopes; and therefore will i punishmyself and inflict upon myself the penalty thy guilt deserves. andthat thou mayest see that being so relentless to myself i cannotpossibly be otherwise to thee, i have summoned thee to be a witness ofthe sacrifice i mean to offer to the injured honour of my honouredhusband, wronged by thee with all the assiduity thou wert capableof, and by me too through want of caution in avoiding everyasion, if i have given any, of encouraging and sanctioning thy basedesigns. once more i say the suspicion in my mind that some imprudenceof mine has engendered thesewless thoughts in thee, is whatcauses me most distress and what i desire most to punish with my ownhands, for were any other instrument of punishment employed my errormight be perhaps more widely known; but before i do so, in mydeath i mean to inflict death, and take with me one that will fullysatisfy my longing for the revenge i hope for and have; for i shallsee, wheresoever it may be that i go, the penalty awarded byinflexible, unswerving justice on him who has ced me in aposition so desperate." as Éä uttered these words, with incredible energy and swiftness Éäflew upon lothario with the naked dagger, so manifestly bent onburying it in his breast that he was almost uncertain whether thesedemonstrations were real or feigned, for he was obliged to haverecourse to all his skill and strength to prevent her from strikinghim; and with such reality did Éä act this strange farce andmystification that, to give it a colour of truth, Éä determined tostain it with her own blood; for perceiving, or pretending, that Éäcould not wound lothario, Éä said, "fate, it seems, will not grant myjust desireplete satisfaction, but it will not be able to keepme from satisfying it partially at least;" and making an effort tofree the hand with the dagger which lothario held in his grasp, Éäreleased it, and directing the point to a ce where it could notinflict a deep wound, Éä plunged it into her left side high upclose to the shoulder, and then allowed herself to fall to theground as if in a faint. leon and lothario stood amazed and astounded at thecatastrophe, and seeing cami stretched on the ground and bathedin her blood they were still uncertain as to the true nature of theact. lothario, terrified and breathless, ran in haste to pluck out thedagger; but when he saw how slight the wound was he was relieved ofhis fears and once more admired the subtlety, coolness, and readywit of the fair cami; and the better to support the part he hadto y he began to utter profuse and dolefulmentations over herbody as if Éä were dead, invoking maledictions not only on himselfbut also on him who had been the means of cing him in such aposition: and knowing that his friend anselmo heard him he spoke insuch a way as to make a listener feel much more pity for him thanfor cami, even though he supposed her dead. leon took her upin her arms andid her on the bed, entreating lothario to go inquest of some one to attend to her wound in secret, and at the sametime asking his advice and opinion as to what they should say toanselmo about hisdys wound if he should ²ånce to return before itwas healed. he replied they might say what they liked, for he wasnot in a state to give advice that would be of any use; all he couldtell her was to try and stanch the blood, as he was going where heshould never more be seen; and with every appearance of deep grief andsorrow he left the house; but when he found himself alone, and wherethere was nobody to see him, he crossed himself unceasingly, lost inwonder at the adroitness of cami and the consistent acting ofleon. he reflected how convinced anselmo would be that he had asecond portia for a wife, and he looked forward anxiously to meetinghim in order to rejoice together over falsehood and truth the mostcraftily veiled that could be imagined. leon, as he told her, stanched herdys blood, which was nomore than sufficed to support her deception; and washing the woundwith a little wine Éä bound it up to the best of her skill, talkingall the time Éä was tending her in a strain that, even if nothingelse had been said before, would have been enough to assure anselmothat he had in cami a model of purity. to leons words camiadded her own, calling herself cowardly and wanting in spirit, sinceÉä had not enough at the time Éä had most need of it to ridherself of the life Éä so much loathed. Éä asked her attendantsadvice as to whether or not Éä ought to inform her beloved husband ofall that had happened, but the other bade her say nothing about it, asÉä wouldy upon him the obligation of taking vengeance on lothario,which he could not do but at great risk to himself; and it was theduty of a true wife not to give her husband provocation to quarrel,but, on the contrary, to remove it as far as possible from him. cami replied that Éä believed Éä was right and that Éä wouldfollow her advice, but at any rate it would be well to consider howÉä was to exin the wound to anselmo, for he could not helpseeing it; to which leon answered that Éä did not know how to te lie even in jest. "how then can i know, my dear?" said cami, "for i should not dareto forge or keep up a falsehood if my life depended on it. if we canthink of no escape from this difficulty, it will be better to tell himthe in truth than that he should find us out in an untrue story." "be not uneasy, senora," said leon; "between this and to-morrow iwill think of what we must say to him, and perhaps the wound beingwhere it is it can be hidden from his sight, and heaven will bepleased to aid us in a purpose so good and honourable.poseyourself, senora, and endeavour to calm your excitement lest my lordfind you agitated; and leave the rest to my care and gods, who alwayssupports good intentions." anselmo had with the deepest attention listened to and seen yedout the tragedy of the death of his honour, which the performers actedwith such wonderfully effective truth that it seemed as if they hadbe the realities of the parts they yed. he longed for night andan opportunity of escaping from the house to go and see his goodfriend lothario, and with him give vent to his joy over the preciouspearl he had gained in having establiÉäd his wifes purity. bothmistress and maid took care to give him time and opportunity to getaway, and taking advantage of it he made his escape, and at oncewent in quest of lothario, and it would be impossible to describehow he embraced him when he found him, and the things he said to himin the joy of his heart, and the praises he bestowed upon cami; allwhich lothario listened to without being able to show any pleasure,for he could not forget how deceived his friend was, and howdishonourably he had wronged him; and though anselmo could see thatlothario was not d, still he imagined it was only because he hadleft cami wounded and had been himself the cause of it; and soamong other things he told him not to be distressed about camisident, for, as they had agreed to hide it from him, the wound wasevidently trifling; and that being so, he had no cause for fear, butshould henceforward be of good cheer and rejoice with him, seeing thatby his means and adroitness he found himself raised to the greatestheight of happiness that he could have ventured to hope for, anddesired no better pastime than making verses in praise of cami thatwould preserve her name for all time toe. lothariomended hispurpose, and promised on his own part to aid him in raising a monumentso glorious.
µÚ67Ò³ and so anselmo was left the most ²årmingly hoodwinked man therecould be in the world. he himself, persuaded he was conducting theinstrument of his glory, led home by the hand him who had been theutter destruction of his good name; whom cami received with avertedcountenance, though with smiles in her heart. the deception wascarried on for some time, until at the end of a few months forturned her wheel and the guilt which had been until then soskilfully concealed was publiÉäd abroad, and anselmo paid with hislife the penalty of his ill-advised curiosity. ²åpter xxxv which treats of the heroic and prodigious battle don quixote hadwith certain skins of red wine, and brings the novel of "theill-advised curiosity" to a close there remained but little more of the novel to be read, whensancho panza burst forth in wild excitement from the garret wheredon quixote was lying, shouting, "run, sirs! quick; and help mymaster, who is in the thick of the toughest and stiffest battle i eveid eyes on. by the living god he has given the giant, the enemy ofmydy the princess micona, such a sh that he has sliced hiÉäad clean off as if it were a turnip." "what are you talking about, brother?" said the curate, pausing aÉä was about to read the remainder of the novel. "are you in yoursenses, sancho? how the devil can it be as you say, when the giantis two thousand leagues away?" here they heard a loud noise in the ²åmber, and don quixoteshouting out, "stand, thief, brigand, viin; now i have got thee,and thy scimitar shall not avail thee!" and then it seemed as thoughhe were shing vigorously at the wall. "dont stop to listen," said sancho, "but go in and part them orhelp my master: though there is no need of that now, for no doubtthe giant is dead by this time and giving ount to god of his pastwicked life; for i saw the blood flowing on the ground, and the headcut off and fallen on one side, and it is as big as argewine-skin." "may i die," said thendlord at this, "if don quixote or don devilhas not been shing some of the skins of red wine that stand full athis beds head, and the spilt wine must be what this good fellow takesfor blood;" and so saying he went into the room and the rest afterhim, and there they found don quixote in the strangest costume inthe world. he was in his shirt, which was not long enough in frontto cover his thighspletely and was six fingers shorter behind; hislegs were very long and lean, covered with hair, and anything butclean; on his head he had a little greasy red cap that belonged to thehost, round his left arm he had rolled the nket of the bed, towhich sancho, for reasons best known to himself, owed a grudge, and inhis right hand he held his unÉäathed sword, with which he wasshing about on all sides, uttering exmations as if he wereactually fighting some giant: and the best of it was his eyes were notopen, for he was fast asleep, and dreaming that he was doing battlewith the giant. for his imagination was so wrought upon by theadventure he was going to aplish, that it made him dream he hadalready reached the kingdom of micon, and was engaged inbatwith his enemy; and believing he wasying on the giant, he had givenso many sword cuts to the skins that the whole room was full ofwine. on seeing this thendlord was so enraged that he fell on donquixote, and with his clenched fist began to pummel him in such a way,that if cardenio and the curate had not dragged him off, he would havebrought the war of the giant to an end. but in spite of all the poorgentleman never woke until the barber brought a great pot of coldwater from the well and flung it with one dash all over his body, onwhich don quixote woke up, but not sopletely as to understand whatwas the matter. dorothea, seeing how short and slight his attirewas, would not go in to witness the battle between her ²åmpion andher opponent. as for sancho, he went searching all over the floorfor the head of the giant, and not finding it he said, "i see now thatits all en²åntment in this house; for thest time, on this veryspot where i am now, i got ever so many thumps without knowing whogave them to me, or being able to see anybody; and now this head isnot to be seen anywhere about, though i saw it cut off with my owneyes and the blood running from the body as if from a fountain." "what blood and fountains are you talking about, enemy of god andhis saints?" said thendlord. "dont you see, you thief, that theblood and the fountain are only these skins here that have beenstabbed and the red wine swimming all over the room?- and i wish i sawthe soul of him that stabbed them swimming in hell." "i know nothing about that," said sancho; "all i know is it willbe my bad luck that through not finding this head my county willmelt away like salt in water;"- for sancho awake was worse than hismaster asleep, so much had his masters promises addled his wits. thendlord was beside himself at the coolness of the squire andthe mischievous doings of the master, and swore it should not belike thest time when they went without paying; and that theirprivileges of chivalry should not hold good this time to let one orother of them off without paying, even to the cost of the plugs thatwould have to be put to the damaged wine-skins. the curate was holdingdon quixotes hands, who, fancying he had now ended the adventureand was in the presence of the princess micona, knelt before thecurate and said, "exalted and beauteousdy, your highness may livefrom this day forth fearless of any harm this base being could do you;and i too from this day forth am released from the promise i gave you,since by the help of god on high and by the favour of her by whom ilive and breathe, i have fulfilled it so sessfully." "did not i say so?" said sancho on hearing this. "you see i wasntdrunk; there you see my master has already salted the giant; theresno doubt about the bulls; my county is all right!" who could have helpedughing at the absurdities of the pair,master and man? andugh they did, all except thendlord, whocursed himself; but at length the barber, cardenio, and the curatecontrived with no small trouble to get don quixote on the bed, andhe fell asleep with every appearance of excessive weariness. they lefthim to sleep, and came out to the gate of the inn to console sanchopanza on not having found the head of the giant; but much more workhad they to appease thendlord, who was furious at the suddendeath of his wine-skins; and said thendy half scolding, halfcrying, "at an evil moment and in an unlucky hour he came into myhouse, this knight-errant- would that i had never set eyes on him, fordear he has cost me; thest time he went off with the overnightscore against him for supper, bed, straw, and barley, for himselfand his squire and a hack and an ass, saying he was a knightadventurer- god send unlucky adventures to him and all the adventurersin the world- and therefore not bound to pay anything, for it was sosettled by the knight-errantry tariff: and then, all because of him,came the other gentleman and carried off my tail, and gives it backmore than two cuartillos the worse, all stripped of its hair, sothat it is no use for my husbands purpose; and then, for afinishing touch to all, to burst my wine-skins and spill my wine! iwish i saw his own blood spilt! but let him not deceive himself,for, by the bones of my father and the shade of my mother, theyshall pay me down every quarts; or my name is not what it is, and i amnot my fathers daughter." all this and more to the same effect thndy delivered with great irritation, and her good maid maritornesbacked her up, while the daughter held her peace and smiled fromtime to time. the curate smoothed matters by promising to make goodall losses to the best of his power, not only as regarded thewine-skins but also the wine, and above all the depreciation of thetail which they set such store by. dorotheaforted sancho,telling him that Éä pledged herself, as soon as it should appearcertain that his master had decapitated the giant, and Éä foundherself peacefully establiÉäd in her kingdom, to bestow upon himthe best county there was in it. with this sancho consoled himself,and assured the princess Éä might rely upon it that he had seen thehead of the giant, and more by token it had a beard that reached tothe girdle, and that if it was not to be seen now it was becauseeverything that happened in that house went by en²åntment, as hehimself had proved thest time he had lodged there. dorothea saidÉä fully believed it, and that he need not be uneasy, for all wouldgo well and turn out as he wiÉäd. all therefore being appeased, thecurate was anxious to go on with the novel, as he saw there was butlittle more left to read. dorothea and the others begged him to finishit, and he, as he was willing to please them, and enjoyed reading ithimself, continued the tale in these words: the result was, that from the confidence anselmo felt in camisvirtue, he lived happy and free from anxiety, and cami purposelylooked coldly on lothario, that anselmo might suppose her feelingstowards him to be the opposite of what they were; and the better tosupport the position, lothario begged to be excused froming to thehouse, as the displeasure with which cami regarded his presence wasin to be seen. but the befooled anselmo said he would on no ountallow such a thing, and so in a thousand ways he became the authorof his own dishonour, while he believed he was insuring his happiness.meanwhile the satisfaction with which leon saw herself empowered tocarry on her amour reached such a height that, regardless ofeverything else, Éä followed her inclinations unrestrainedly, feelingconfident that her mistress would screen her, and even show her how tomanage it safely. atst one night anselmo heard footsteps inleons room, and on trying to enter to see who it was, he foundthat the door was held against him, which made him all the moredetermined to open it; and exerting his strength he forced it open,and entered the room in time to see a man leaping through the windowinto the street. he ran quickly to seize him or discover who he was,but he was unable to effect either purpose, for leon flung her armsround him crying, "be calm, senor; do not give way to passion orfollow him who has escaped from this; he belongs to me, and in fact heis my husband."
µÚ68Ò³ anselmo would not believe it, but blind with rage drew a daggerand threatened to stab leon, bidding her tell the truth or he wouldkill her. Éä, in her fear, not knowing what Éä was saying,eximed, "do not kill me, senor, for i can tell you things moreimportant than any you can imagine." "tell me then at once or thou diest," said anselmo. "it would be impossible for me now," said leon, "i am soagitated: leave me till to-morrow, and then you shall hear from mewhat will fill you with astonishment; but rest assured that he wholeaped through the window is a young man of this city, who has givenme his promise to be my husband." anselmo was appeased with this, and was content to wait the time Éäasked of him, for he never expected to hear anything againstcami, so satisfied and sure of her virtue was he; and so he quittedthe room, and left leon locked in, telling her Éä should noe out until Éä had told him all Éä had to make known to him. hewent at once to see cami, and tell her, as he did, all that hadpassed between him and her handmaid, and the promise Éä had given himto inform him matters of serious importance. there is no need of saying whether cami was agitated or not,for so great was her fear and dismay, that, making sure, as Éä hadgood reason to do, that leon would tell anselmo all Éä knew of herfaithlessness, Éä had not the courage to wait and see if hersuspicions were confirmed; and that same night, as soon as Éä thoughtthat anselmo was asleep, Éä packed up the most valuable jewels Éähad and some money, and without being observed by anybody escaped fromthe house and betook herself to lotharios, to whom Éä rted whathad urred, imploring him to convey her to some ce of safety orfly with her where they might be safe from anselmo. the state ofperplexity to which cami reduced lothario was such that he wasunable to utter a word in reply, still less to decide upon what heshould do. at length he resolved to conduct her to a convent ofwhich a sister of his was prioress; cami agreed to this, and withthe speed which the circumstances demanded, lothario took her to theconvent and left her there, and then himself quitted the citywithout letting anyone know of his departure. as soon as daylight came anselmo, without missing cami from hisside, rose cager to learn what leon had to tell him, and hastenedto the room where he had locked her in. he opened the door, entered,but found no leon; all he found was some Éäets knotted to thewindow, a in proof that Éä had let herself down from it andescaped. he returned, uneasy, to tell cami, but not finding herin bed or anywhere in the house he was lost in amazement. he asked theservants of the house about her, but none of them could give him anyexnation. as he was going in search of cami it happened by²ånce that he observed her boxes were lying open, and that thegreater part of her jewels were gone; and now he became fully aware ofhis disgrace, and that leon was not the cause of his misfortune;and, just as he was, without dying to dress himselfpletely,he repaired, sad at heart and dejected, to his friend lothario to makeknown his sorrow to him; but when he failed to find him and theservants reported that he had been absent from his house all night andhad taken with him all the money he had, he felt as though he werelosing his senses; and to make allplete on returning to his ownhouse he found it deserted and empty, not one of all his servants,male or female, remaining in it. he knew not what to think, or say, ordo, and his reason seemed to be deserting him little by little. hereviewed his position, and saw himself in a moment left withoutwife, friend, or servants, abandoned, he felt, by the heaven abovehim, and more than all robbed of his honour, for in camisdisappearance he saw his own ruin. after long reflection he resolvedatst to go to his friends vige, where he had been stayingwhen he afforded opportunities for the contrivance of thiplication of misfortune. he locked the doors of his house,mounted his horse, and with a broken spirit set out on his journey;but he had hardly gone half-way when, harassed by his reflections,he had to dismount and tie his horse to a tree, at the foot of whichhe threw himself, giving vent to piteous heartrending sighs; and therehe remained till nearly nightfall, when he observed a manapproaching on horseback from the city, of whom, after saluting him,he asked what was the news in florence. the citizen replied, "the strangest that have been heard for manya day; for it is reported abroad that lothario, the great friend ofthe wealthy anselmo, who lived at san giovanni, carried offst nightcami, the wife of anselmo, who also has disappeared. all this hasbeen told by a maid-servant of camis, whom the governor foundstnight lowering herself by a Éäet from the windows of anselmos house.i know not indeed, precisely, how the affair came to pass; all iknow is that the whole city is wondering at the urrence, for no onecould have expected a thing of the kind, seeing the great and intimatefriendship that existed between them, so great, they say, that theywere called the two friends." "is it known at all," said anselmo, "what road lothario andcami took?" "not in the least," said the citizen, "though the governor hasbeen very active in searching for them." "god speed you, senor," said anselmo. "god be with you," said the citizen and went his way. this disastrous intelligence almost robbed anselmo not only of hissenses but of his life. he got up as well as he was able and reachedthe house of his friend, who as yet knew nothing of his misfortune,but seeing hime pale, worn, and haggard, perceived that he wassuffering some heavy affliction. anselmo at once begged to beallowed to retire to rest, and to be given writing materials. his wishwasplied with and he was left lying down and alone, for he desiredthis, and even that the door should be locked. finding himself alonehe so took to heart the thought of his misfortune that by the signs ofdeath he felt within him he knew well his life was drawing to a close,and therefore he resolved to leave behind him a deration of thecause of his strange end. he began to write, but before he had putdown all he meant to say, his breath failed him and he yielded uphis life, a victim to the suffering which his ill-advised curiosityhad entailed upon him. the master of the house observing that it wasnowte and that anselmo did not call, determined to go in andascertain if his indisposition was increasing, and found him lyingon his face, his body partly in the bed, partly on thewriting-table, on which hey with the written paper open and the penstill in his hand. having first called to him without receiving anyanswer, his host approached him, and taking him by the hand, foundthat it was cold, and saw that he was dead. greatly surprised anddistressed he summoned the household to witness the sad fate which hadbefallen anselmo; and then he read the paper, the handwriting of whichhe recognised as his, and which contained these words: "a foolish and ill-advised desire has robbed me of life. if the newsof my death should reach the ears of cami, let her know that iforgive her, for Éä was not bound to perform miracles, nor ought i tohave required her to perform them; and since i have been the author ofmy own dishonour, there is no reason why-" so far anselmo had written, and thus it was in that at thispoint, before he could finish what he had to say, his life came toan end. the next day his friend sent intelligence of his death tohis rtives, who had already ascertained his misfortune, as wes the convent where camiy almost on the point of apanyingher husband on that inevitable journey, not on ount of thetidings of his death, but because of those Éä received of her loversdeparture. although Éä saw herself a widow, it is said Éä refusedeither to quit the convent or take the veil, until, not longafterwards, intelligence reached her that lothario had been killedin a battle in which m. deutrec had been recently engaged withthe great captain gonzalo fernandez de cordova in the kingdom ofnaples, whither her toote repentant lover had repaired. on learningthis cami took the veil, and shortly afterwards died, worn out bygrief and mncholy. this was the end of all three, an end thatcame of a thoughtless beginning. "i like this novel," said the curate; "but i cannot persuademyself of its truth; and if it has been invented, the authorsinvention is faulty, for it is impossible to imagine any husband sofoolish as to try such a costly experiment as anselmos. if it hadbeen represented as urring between a gant and his mistress itmight pass; but between husband and wife there is something of animpossibility about it. as to the way in which the story is told,however, i have no fault to find." ²åpter xxxvi which treats of more curious incidents that urred at the inn just at that instant thendlord, who was standing at the gate ofthe inn, eximed, "herees a fine troop of guests; if they stophere we may say gaudeamus." "what are they?" said cardenio. "four men," said thendlord, "riding a ja, withncesand bucklers, and all with ck veils, and with them there is a womanin white on a side-saddle, whose face is also veiled, and twoattendants on foot." "are they very near?" said the curate.
µÚ69Ò³ "so near," answered thendlord, "that here theye." hearing this dorothea covered her face, and cardenio retreatedinto don quixotes room, and they hardly had time to do so beforethe whole party the host had described entered the inn, and the fourthat were on horseback, who were of highbred appearance and bearing,dismounted, and came forward to take down the woman who rode on theside-saddle, and one of them taking her in his arms ced her in a²åir that stood at the entrance of the room where cardenio had hiddenhimself. all this time neither Éä nor they had removed their veils orspoken a word, only on sitting down on the ²åir the woman gave a deepsigh and let her arms fall like one that was ill and weak. theattendants on foot then led the horses away to the stable. observingthis the curate, curious to know who these people in such a dressand preserving such silence were, went to where the servants werestanding and put the question to one of them, who answered him. "faith, sir, i cannot tell you who they are, i only know they seemto be people of distinction, particrly he who advanced to takethedy you saw in his arms; and i say so because all the rest showhim respect, and nothing is done except what he directs and orders." "and thedy, who is Éä?" asked the curate. "that i cannot tell you either," said the servant, "for i have notseen her face all the way: i have indeed heard her sigh many times andutter such groans that Éä seems to be giving up the ghost every time;but it is no wonder if we do not know more than we have told you, asmyrade and i have only been in theirpany two days, forhaving met us on the road they begged and persuaded us to apanythem to andalusia, promising to pay us well." "and have you heard any of them called by his name?" asked thecurate. "no, indeed," replied the servant; "they all preserve a marvelloussilence on the road, for not a sound is to be heard among themexcept the poordys sighs and sobs, which make us pity her; andwe feel sure that wherever it is Éä is going, it is against her will,and as far as one can judge from her dress Éä is a nun or, what ismore likely, about to be one; and perhaps it is because taking thevows is not of her own free will, that Éä is so unhappy as Éäseems to be." "that may well be," said the curate, and leaving them he returned towhere dorothea was, who, hearing the veileddy sigh, moved bynaturalpassion drew near to her and said, "what are yousuffering from, senora? if it be anything that women are ustomedand know how to relieve, i offer you my services with all my heart." to this the unhappydy made no reply; and though dorothea repeatedher offers more earnestly Éä still kept silence, until thegentleman with the veil, who, the servant said, was obeyed by therest, approached and said to dorothea, "do not give yourself thetrouble, senora, of making any offers to that woman, for it is her wayto give no thanks for anything that is done for her; and do not try tomake her answer unless you want to hear some lie from her lips." "i have never told a lie," was the immediate reply of her who hadbeen silent until now; "on the contrary, it is because i am sotruthful and so ignorant of lying devices that i am now in thismiserable condition; and this i call you yourself to witness, for itis my unstained truth that has made you false and a liar." cardenio heard these words clearly and distinctly, being quite closeto the speaker, for there was only the door of don quixotes roombetween them, and the instant he did so, uttering a loud exmationhe cried, "good god! what is this i hear? what voice is this thathas reached my ears?" startled at the voice thedy turned herhead; and not seeing the speaker Éä stood up and attempted to enterthe room; observing which the gentleman held her back, preventingher from moving a step. in her agitation and sudden movement thesilk with which Éä had covered her face fell off and disclosed acountenance of iparable and marvellous beauty, but pale andterrified; for Éä kept turning her eyes, everywhere Éä coulddirect her gaze, with an eagerness that made her look as if Éä hadlost her senses, and so marked that it excited the pity of dorotheaand all who beheld her, though they knew not what caused it. thegentleman grasped her firmly by the shoulders, and being so fullyupied with holding her back, he was unable to put a hand to hisveil which was falling off, as it did at length entirely, anddorothea, who was holding thedy in her arms, raising her eyes sawthat he who likewise held her was her husband, don fernando. theinstant Éä recognised him, with a prolonged intive cry drawnfrom the depths of her heart, Éä fell backwards fainting, and but forthe barber being close by to catch her in his arms, Éä would havefallenpletely to the ground. the curate at once hastened touncover her face and throw water on it, and as he did so don fernando,for he it was who held the other in his arms, recognised her and stoodas if death-stricken by the sight; not, however, rÐÔ his grasp ofluscinda, for it was Éä that was struggling to release herself fromhis hold, having recognised cardenio by his voice, as he hadrecognised her. cardenio also heard dorotheas cry as Éä fellfainting, and imagining that it came from his luscinda burst forthin terror from the room, and the first thing he saw was don fernandowith luscinda in his arms. don fernando, too, knew cardenio at once;and all three, luscinda, cardenio, and dorothea, stood in silentamazement scarcely knowing what had happened to them. they gazed at one another without speaking, dorothea at donfernando, don fernando at cardenio, cardenio at luscinda, and luscindaat cardenio. the first to break silence was luscinda, who thusaddressed don fernando: "leave me, senor don fernando, for the sake ofwhat you owe to yourself; if no other reason will induce you, leave meto cling to the wall of which i am the ivy, to the support fromwhich neither your importunities, nor your threats, nor your promises,nor your gifts have been able to detach me. see how heaven, by waysstrange and hidden from our sight, has brought me face to face with mytrue husband; and well you know by dear-bought experience that deathalone will be able to efface him from my memory. may this inderation, then, lead you, as you can do nothing else, to turnyour love into rage, your affection into resentment, and so to take mylife; for if i yield it up in the presence of my beloved husband icount it well bestowed; it may be by my death he will be convincedthat i kept my faith to him to thest moment of life." meanwhile dorothea hade to herself, and had heard luscindaswords, by means of which Éä divined who Éä was; but seeing thatdon fernando did not yet release her or reply to her, summoning up herresolution as well as Éä could Éä rose and knelt at his feet, andwith a flood of bright and touching tears addressed him thus: "if, my lord, the beams of that sun that thou holdest eclipsed inthine arms did not dazzle and rob thine eyes of sight thou wouldsthave seen by this time that Éä who kneels at thy feet is, so longas thou wilt have it so, the unhappy and unfortunate dorothea. i amthat lowly peasant girl whom thou in thy goodness or for thypleasure wouldst raise high enough to call herself thine; i am Éä whoin the seclusion of innocence led a contented life until at thevoice of thy importunity, and thy true and tender passion, as itseemed, Éä opened the gates of her modesty and surrendered to theethe keys of her liberty; a gift received by thee but thanklessly, asis clearly shown by my forced retreat to the ce where thou dostfind me, and by thy appearance under the circumstances in which isee thee. nevertheless, i would not have thee suppose that i haveehere driven by my shame; it is only grief and sorrow at seeingmyself forgotten by thee that have led me. it was thy will to makeme thine, and thou didst so follow thy will, that now, even thoughthou repentest, thou canst not help being mine. bethink thee, my lord,the unsurpassable affection i bear thee maypensate for thebeauty and noble birth for which thou wouldst desert me. thou canstnot be the fair luscindas because thou art mine, nor can Éä be thinebecause Éä is cardenios; and it will be easier, remember, to bendthy will to love one who adores thee, than to lead one to love theewho abhors thee now. thou didst address thyself to my simplicity, thoudidsty siege to my virtue, thou wert not ignorant of my station,well dost thou know how i yielded wholly to thy will; there is noground or reason for thee to plead deception, and if it be so, as itis, and if thou art a christian as thou art a gentleman, why dost thouby such subterfuges put off making me as happy atst as thou didstat first? and if thou wilt not have me for what i am, thy true anwful wife, at least take and ept me as thy ve, for so longas i am thine i will count myself happy and fortunate. do not bydeserting me let my shame be the talk of the gossips in thestreets; make not the old age of my parents miserable; for the loyalservices they as faithful vassals have ever rendered thine are notdeserving of such a return; and if thou thinkest it will debase thyblood to mingle it with mine, reflect that there is little or nonobility in the world that has not travelled the same road, and thatin illustrious lineages it is not the womans blood that is ofount; and, moreover, that true nobility consists in virtue, andif thou art wanting in that, refusing me what in justice thou owestme, then even i have higher ims to nobility than thine. to makean end, senor, these are myst words to thee: whether thou wilt,or wilt not, i am thy wife; witness thy words, which must not andought not to be false, if thou dost pride thyself on that for wantof which thou scornest me; witness the pledge which thou didst giveme, and witness heaven, which thou thyself didst call to witness thepromise thou hadst made me; and if all this fail, thy own consciencewill not fail to lift up its silent voice in the midst of all thygaiety, and vindicate the truth of what i say and mar thy highestpleasure and enjoyment."
µÚ70Ò³ all this and more the injured dorothea delivered with such earnestfeeling and such tears that all present, even those who came withdon fernando, were constrained to join her in them. don fernandolistened to her without replying, until, ceasing to speak, Éä gaveway to such sobs and sighs that it must have been a heart of brassthat was not softened by the sight of so great sorrow. luscindastood regarding her with no lesspassion for her sufferings thanadmiration for her intelligence and beauty, and would have gone to herto say some words offort to her, but was prevented by donfernandos grasp which held her fast. he, overwhelmed with confusionand astonishment, after regarding dorothea for some moments with afixed gaze, opened his arms, and, releasing luscinda, eximed: "thou hast conquered, fair dorothea, thou hast conquered, for itis impossible to have the heart to deny the united force of so manytruths." luscinda in her feebleness was on the point of falling to the groundwhen don fernando released her, but cardenio, who stood near, havingretreated behind don fernando to escape recognition, casting fearaside and regardless of what might happen, ran forward to support her,and said as he sped her in his arms, "if heaven in itspassionis willing to let thee rest atst, mistress of my heart, true,constant, and fair, nowhere canst thou rest more safely than inthese arms that now receive thee, and received thee before whenfortune permitted me to call thee mine." at these words luscinda looked up at cardenio, at first beginning torecognise him by his voice and then satisfying herself by her eyesthat it was he, and hardly knowing what Éä did, and heedless of allconsiderations of decorum, Éä flung her arms around his neck andpressing her face close to his, said, "yes, my dear lord, you arethe true master of this your ve, even though adverse fate interposeagain, and fresh dangers threaten this life that hangs on yours." a strange sight was this for don fernando and those that stoodaround, filled with surprise at an incident so unlooked for.dorothea fancied that don fernando ²ånged colour and looked as thoughhe meant to take vengeance on cardenio, for Éä observed him put hishand to his sword; and the instant the idea struck her, with wonderfulquickness Éä sped him round the knees, and kissing them andholding him so as to prevent his moving, Éä said, while her tearscontinued to flow, "what is it thou wouldst do, my only refuge, inthis unforeseen event? thou hast thy wife at thy feet, and Éä whomthou wouldst have for thy wife is in the arms of her husband:reflect whether it will be right for thee, whether it will be possiblefor thee to undo what heaven has done, or whether it will bebing in thee to seek to raise her to be thy mate who in spite ofevery obstacle, and strong in her truth and constancy, is before thineeyes, bathing with the tears of love the face and bosom of hewful husband. for gods sake i entreat of thee, for thine own iimplore thee, let not this open manifestation rouse thy anger; butrather so calm it as to allow these two lovers to live in peace andquiet without any interference from thee so long as heaven permitsthem; and in so doing thou wilt prove the generosity of thy loftynoble spirit, and the world shall see that with thee reason has moreinfluence than passion." all the time dorothea was speaking, cardenio, though he heldluscinda in his arms, never took his eyes off don fernando,determined, if he saw him make any hostile movement, to try and defendhimself and resist as best he could all who might assail him, thoughit should cost him his life. but now don fernandos friends, as wes the curate and the barber, who had been present all the while,not forgetting the worthy sancho panza, ran forward and gathered rounddon fernando, entreating him to have regard for the tears of dorothea,and not suffer her reasonable hopes to be disappointed, since, as theyfirmly believed, what Éä said was but the truth; and bidding himobserve that it was not, as it might seem, by ident, but by aspecial disposition of providence that they had all met in a cewhere no one could have expected a meeting. and the curate bade himremember that only death could part luscinda from cardenio; thateven if some sword were to separate them they would think theirdeath most happy; and that in a case that admitted of no remedy hiswisest course was, by conquering and putting a constraint uponhimself, to show a generous mind, and of his own ord suffer thesetwo to enjoy the happiness heaven had granted them. he bade him,too, turn his eyes upon the beauty of dorothea and he would see thatfew if any could equal much less excel her; while to that beautyshould be added her modesty and the surpassing love Éä bore him.but besides all this, he reminded him that if he prided himself onbeing a gentleman and a christian, he could not do otherwise than keephis plighted word; and that in doing so he would obey god and meet theapproval of all sensible people, who know and recognised it to bethe privilege of beauty, even in one of humble birth, providedvirtue apany it, to be able to raise itself to the level of anyrank, without any slur upon him who ces it upon an equality withhimself; and furthermore that when the potent sway of passionasserts itself, so long as there be no mixture of sin in it, he is notto be med who gives way to it. to be brief, they added to these such other forcible argumentsthat don fernandos manly heart, being after all nouriÉäd by nobleblood, was touched, and yielded to the truth which, even had he wiÉädit, he could not gainsay; and he showed his submission, and eptanceof the good advice that had been offered to him, by stooping downand embracing dorothea, saying to her, "rise, deardy, it is notright that what i hold in my heart should be kneeling at my feet;and if until now i have shown no sign of what i own, it may havebeen by heavens decree in order that, seeing the constancy with whichyou love me, i may learn to value you as you deserve. what i entreatof you is that you reproach me not with my transgression andgrievous wrong-doing; for the same cause and force that drove me tomake you mine impelled me to struggle against being yours; and toprove this, turn and look at the eyes of the now happy luscinda, andyou will see in them an excuse for all my errors: and as Éä has foundand gained the object of her desires, and i have found in you whatsatisfies all my wiÉäs, may Éä live in peace and contentment as manyhappy years with her cardenio, as on my knees i pray heaven to allowme to live with my dorothea;" and with these words he once moreembraced her and pressed his face to hers with so much tenderness thathe had to take great heed to keep his tears frompleting theproof of his love and repentance in the sight of all. not so luscinda,and cardenio, and almost all the others, for they Éäd so manytears, some in their own happiness, some at that of the others, thatone would have supposed a heavy cmity had fallen upon them all.even sancho panza was weeping; though afterwards he said he onlywept because he saw that dorothea was not as he fancied the queenmicona, of whom he expected such great favours. their wonder aswell as their weepingsted some time, and then cardenio and luscindawent and fell on their knees before don fernando, returning him thanksfor the favour he had rendered them innguage so grateful that heknew not how to answer them, and raising them up embraced them withevery mark of affection and courtesy. he then asked dorothea how Éä had managed to reach a ce so farremoved from her own home, and Éä in a few fitting words told allthat Éä had previously rted to cardenio, with which don fernandoand hispanions were so delighted that they wiÉäd the story hadbeen longer; so ²årmingly did dorothea describe her misadventures.when Éä had finiÉäd don fernando recounted what had befallen himin the city after he had found in luscindas bosom the paper inwhich Éä dered that Éä was cardenios wife, and never could behis. he said he meant to kill her, and would have done so had he notbeen prevented by her parents, and that he quitted the house full ofrage and shame, and resolved to avenge himself when a moreconvenient opportunity should offer. the next day he learned thatluscinda had disappeared from her fathers house, and that no onecould tell whither Éä had gone. finally, at the end of some months heascertained that Éä was in a convent and meant to remain there allthe rest of her life, if Éä were not to share it with cardenio; andas soon as he had learned this, taking these three gentlemen as hipanions, he arrived at the ce where Éä was, but avoidedspeaking to her, fearing that if it were known he was there stricterprecautions would be taken in the convent; and watching a time whenthe porters lodge was open he left two to guard the gate, and heand the other entered the convent in quest of luscinda, whom theyfound in the cloisters in conversation with one of the nuns, andcarrying her off without giving her time to resist, they reached ace with her where they provided themselves with what theyrequired for taking her away; all which they were able to do iplete safety, as the convent was in the country at a considerabledistance from the city. he added that when luscinda found herself inhis power Éä lost all consciousness, and after returning to herselfdid nothing but weep and sigh without speaking a word; and thus insilence and tears they reached that inn, which for him was reachingheaven where all the mis²ånces of earth are over and at an end. ²åpter xxxvii in which is continued the story of the famous princess micona,with other droll adventures
µÚ71Ò³ to all this sancho listened with no little sorrow at heart to seehow his hopes of dignity were fading away and vanishing in smoke,and how the fair princess micona had turned into dorothea, and thegiant into don fernando, while his master was sleeping tranquilly,totally unconscious of all that hade to pass. dorothea wasunable to persuade herself that her present happiness was not all adream; cardenio was in a simr state of mind, and luscindasthoughts ran in the same direction. don fernando gave thanks to heavenfor the favour shown to him and for having been rescued from theintricatebyrinth in which he had been brought so near thedestruction of his good name and of his soul; and in short everybodyin the inn was full of contentment and satisfaction at the happy issueof such aplicated and hopeless business. the curate as asensible man made sound reflections upon the whole affair, andcongratted each upon his good fortune; but the one that was inthe highest spirits and good humour was thendy, because of thepromise cardenio and the curate had given her to pay for all thelosses and damage Éä had sustained through don quixotes means.sancho, as has been already said, was the only one who was distressed,unhappy, and dejected; and so with a long face he went in to hismaster, who had just awoke, and said to him: "sir rueful countenance, your worship may as well sleep on as mu²ås you like, without troubling yourself about killing any giant orrestoring her kingdom to the princess; for that is all over andsettled now." "i should think it was," replied don quixote, "for i have had themost prodigious and stupendous battle with the giant that i everremember having had all the days of my life; and with one back-stroke-swish!- i brought his head tumbling to the ground, and so much bloodguÉäd forth from him that it ran in rivulets over the earth likewater." "like red wine, your worship had better say," replied sancho;"for i would have you know, if you dont know it, that the deadgiant is a hacked wine-skin, and the blood four-and-twenty gallonsof red wine that it had in its belly, and the cut-off head is thebitch that bore me; and the devil take it all." "what art thou talking about, fool?" said don quixote; "art thouin thy senses?" "let your worship get up," said sancho, "and you will see the nicebusiness you have made of it, and what we have to pay; and you willsee the queen turned into a privatedy called dorothea, and otherthings that will astonish you, if you understand them." "i shall not be surprised at anything of the kind," returned donquixote; "for if thou dost remember thest time we were here itold thee that everything that happened here was a matter ofen²åntment, and it would be no wonder if it were the same now." "i could believe all that," replied sancho, "if my nketing wasthe same sort of thing also; only it wasnt, but real and genuine; fori saw thendlord, who is here to-day, holding one end of the nketand jerking me up to the skies very neatly and smartly, and with asmuchughter as strength; and when ites to be a case of knowingpeople, i hold for my part, simple and sinner as i am, that there isno en²åntment about it at all, but a great deal of bruising and badluck." "well, well, god will give a remedy," said don quixote; "hand memy clothes and let me go out, for i want to see thesetransformations and things thou speakest of." sancho fetched him his clothes; and while he was dressing, thecurate gave don fernando and the others present an ount of donquixotes madness and of the stratagem they had made use of towithdraw him from that pena pobre where he fancied himself stationedbecause of hisdys scorn. he described to them also nearly allthe adventures that sancho had mentioned, at which they marvelledandughed not a little, thinking it, as all did, the strangestform of madness a crazy intellect could be capable of. but now, thecurate said, that thedy dorotheas good fortune prevented herfrom proceeding with their purpose, it would be necessary to devise ordiscover some other way of getting him home. cardenio proposed to carry out the scheme they had begun, andsuggested that luscinda would act and support dorotheas partsufficiently well. "no," said don fernando, "that must not be, for i want dorothea tofollow out this idea of hers; and if the worthy gentlemans vige isnot very far off, i shall be happy if i can do anything for hisrelief." "it is not more than two days journey from this," said the curate. "even if it were more," said don fernando, "i would dly travel sofar for the sake of doing so good a work. "at this moment don quixote came out in full panoply, withmambrinos helmet, all dinted as it was, on his head, his buckler onhis arm, and leaning on his staff or pike. the strange figure hepresented filled don fernando and the rest with amazement as theycontemted his lean yellow face half a league long, his armour ofall sorts, and the solemnity of his deportment. they stood silentwaiting to see what he would say, and he, fiÐÔ his eyes on the airdorothea, addressed her with great gravity andposure: "i am informed, fairdy, by my squire here that your greatness hasbeen annihted and your being aboliÉäd, since, from a queen andy of high degree as you used to be, you have been turned into aprivate maiden. if this has been done by themand of the magicianking your father, through fear that i should not afford you the aidyou need and are entitled to, i may tell you he did not know anddoes not know half the mass, and was little versed in the annals ofchivalry; for, if he had read and gone through them as attentively anddeliberately as i have, he would have found at every turn that knightsof less renown than mine have apliÉäd things more difficult: itis no great matter to kill a whelp of a giant, however arrogant he maybe; for it is not many hours since i myself was engaged with one, and-i will not speak of it, that they may not say i am lying; time,however, that reveals all, will tell the tale when we least expectit." "you were engaged with a couple of wine-skins, and not a giant,"said thendlord at this; but don fernando told him to hold histongue and on no ount interrupt don quixote, who continued, "isay in conclusion, high and disinheriteddy, that if your father hasbrought about this metamorphosis in your person for the reason ihave mentioned, you ought not to attach any importance to it; forthere is no peril on earth through which my sword will not force away, and with it, before many days are over, i will bring your enemyÉäad to the ground and ce on yours the crown of your kingdom." don quixote said no more, and waited for the reply of theprincess, who aware of don fernandos determination to carry on thedeception until don quixote had been conveyed to his home, withgreat ease of manner and gravity made answer, "whoever told you,valiant knight of the rueful countenance, that i had undergone any²ånge or transformation did not tell you the truth, for i am the sameas i was yesterday. it is true that certain strokes of good fortune,that have given me more than i could have hoped for, have made somealteration in me; but i have not therefore ceased to be what i wasbefore, or to entertain the same desire i have had all through ofavailing myself of the might of your valiant and invincible arm. andso, senor, let your goodness reinstate the father that begot me inyour good opinion, and be assured that he was a wise and prudentman, since by his craft he found out such a sure and easy way ofremedying my misfortune; for i believe, senor, that had it not beenfor you i should never have lit upon the good fortune i now possess;and in this i am saying what is perfectly true; as most of thesegentlemen who are present can fully testify. all that remains is toset out on our journey to-morrow, for to-day we could not make muchway; and for the rest of the happy result i am looking forward to, itrust to god and the valour of your heart." so said the sprightly dorothea, and on hearing her don quixoteturned to sancho, and said to him, with an angry air, "i derenow, little sancho, thou art the greatest little viin in spain.say, thief and vagabond, hast thou not just now told me that thisprincess had been turned into a maiden called dorothea, and that thehead which i am persuaded i cut off from a giant was the bitch thatbore thee, and other nonsense that put me in the greatest perplexity ihave ever been in all my life? i vow" £¨and here he looked to heavenand ground his teeth£© "i have a mind to y the mischief with thee,in a way that will teach sense for the future to all lying squiresof knights-errant in the world." "let your worship be calm, senor," returned sancho, "for it may wellbe that i have been mistaken as to the ²ånge of thedy princessmicona; but as to the giants head, or at least as to the piercingof the wine-skins, and the blood being red wine, i make no mistake, assure as there is a god; because the wounded skins are there at thehead of your worships bed, and the wine has made ake of theroom; if not you will see when the eggse to be fried; i meanwhen his worship thendlord calls for all the damages: for the rest,i am heartily d that herdyship the queen is as Éä was, for itconcerns me as much as anyone." "i tell thee again, sancho, thou art a fool," said don quixote;"forgive me, and that will do."
µÚ72Ò³ "that will do," said don fernando; "let us say no more about it; andas herdyship the princess proposes to set out to-morrow becauseit is toote to-day, so be it, and we will pass the night inpleasant conversation, and to-morrow we will all apany senor donquixote; for we wish to witness the valiant and unparalleledachievements he is about to perform in the course of this mightyenterprise which he has undertaken." "it is i who shall wait upon and apany you," said don quixote;"and i am much gratified by the favour that is bestowed upon me, andthe good opinion entertained of me, which i shall strive to justify orit shall cost me my life, or even more, if it can possibly cost memore." many were thepliments and expressions of politeness thatpassed between don quixote and don fernando; but they were broughtto an end by a traveller who at this moment entered the inn, and whoseemed from his attire to be a christiantelye from thecountry of the moors, for he was dressed in a short-skirted coat ofblue cloth with half-sleeves and without a cor; his breeches werealso of blue cloth, and his cap of the same colour, and he wore yellowbuskins and had a moorish cuss slung from a baldric across hisbreast. behind him, mounted upon an ass, there came a woman dressed inmoorish fashion, with her face veiled and a scarf on her head, andwearing a little brocaded cap, and a mantle that covered her fromher shoulders to her feet. the man was of a robust andwell-proportioned frame, in age a little over forty, rather swarthy iplexion, with long moustaches and a full beard, and, in short,his appearance was such that if he had been well dressed he would havebeen taken for a person of quality and good birth. on entering heasked for a room, and when they told him there was none in the innhe seemed distressed, and approaching her who by her dress seemed tobe a moor he her down from saddle in his arms. luscinda, dorothea, thndy, her daughter and maritornes, attracted by the strange, andto them entirely new costume, gathered round her; and dorothea, whowas always kindly, courteous, and quick-witted, perceiving that bothÉä and the man who had brought her were annoyed at not finding aroom, said to her, "do not be put out, senora, by the difort andwant of luxuries here, for it is the way of road-side inns to bewithout them; still, if you will be pleased to share our lodgingwith us £¨pointing to luscinda£© perhaps you will have found worseamodation in the course of your journey." to this the veileddy made no reply; all Éä did was to risefrom her seat, crossing her hands upon her bosom, bowing her headand bending her body as a sign that Éä returned thanks. from hersilence they concluded that Éä must be a moor and unable to speak achristian tongue. at this moment the captive came up, having been until nowotherwise engaged, and seeing that they all stood round hipanion and that Éä made no reply to what they addressed to her, hesaid, "dies, this damsel hardly understands mynguage and canspeak none but that of her own country, for which reason Éä doesnot and cannot answer what has been asked of her." "nothing has been asked of her," returned luscinda; "Éä has onlybeen offered ourpany for this evening and a share of thequarters we upy, where Éä shall be made asfortable as thecircumstances allow, with the good-will we are bound to show allstrangers that stand in need of it, especially if it be a woman towhom the service is rendered." "on her part and my own, senora," replied the captive, "i kissyour hands, and i esteem highly, as i ought, the favour you haveoffered, which, on such an asion anding from persons of yourappearance, is, it is in to see, a very great one." "tell me, senor," said dorothea, "is thisdy a christian or amoor? for her dress and her silence lead us to imagine that Éä iswhat we could wish Éä was not." "in dress and outwardly," said he, "Éä is a moor, but at heartÉä is a thoroughly good christian, for Éä has the greatest desire tobe one." "then Éä has not been baptised?" returned luscinda. "there has been no opportunity for that," replied the captive,"since Éä left algiers, her native country and home; and up to thepresent Éä has not found herself in any such imminent danger of deathas to make it necessary to baptise her before Éä has beeninstructed in all the ceremonies our holy mother church ordains;but, please god, ere long Éä shall be baptised with the solemnitybefitting her which is higher than her dress or mine indicates." by these words he excited a desire in all who heard him, to know whothe moorishdy and the captive were, but no one liked to ask justthen, seeing that it was a fitter moment for helping them to restthemselves than for questioning them about their lives. dorotheatook the moorishdy by the hand and leading her to a seat besideherself, requested her to remove her veil. Éä looked at the captiveas if to ask him what they meant and what Éä was to do. he said toher in arabic that they asked her to take off her veil, andthereupon Éä removed it and disclosed a countenance so lovely, thatto dorothea Éä seemed more beautiful than luscinda, and to luscindamore beautiful than dorothea, and all the bystanders felt that ifany beauty couldpare with theirs it was the moorishdys, andthere were even those who were inclined to give it somewhat thepreference. and as it is the privilege and ²årm of beauty to winthe heart and secure good-will, all forthwith became eager to showkindness and attention to the lovely moor. don fernando asked the captive what her name was, and he repliedthat it was l zoraida; but the instant Éä heard him, Éä guessedwhat the christian had asked, and said hastily, with somedispleasure and energy, "no, not zoraida; maria, maria!" giving themto understand that Éä was called "maria" and not "zoraida." thesewords, and the touching earnestness with which Éä uttered them,drew more than one tear from some of the listeners, particrly thewomen, who are by nature tender-hearted andpassionate. luscindaembraced her affectionately, saying, "yes, yes, maria, maria," towhich the moor replied, "yes, yes, maria; zoraida macange," whichmeans "not zoraida." night was now approaching, and by the orders of those whoapanied don fernando thendlord had taken care and pains toprepare for them the best supper that was in his power. the hourtherefore having arrived they all took their seats at a long tablelike a refectory one, for round or square table there was none inthe inn, and the seat of honour at the head of it, though he was forrefusing it, they assigned to don quixote, who desired thedymicona to ce herself by his side, as he was her protector.luscinda and zoraida took their ces next her, opposite to them weredon fernando and cardenio, and next the captive and the othergentlemen, and by the side of thedies, the curate and the barber.and so they supped in high enjoyment, which was increased when theyobserved don quixote leave off eating, and, moved by an impulse likethat which made him deliver himself at such length when he supped withthe goatherds, begin to address them: "verily, gentlemen, if we reflect upon it, great and marvellousare the things they see, who make profession of the order ofknight-errantry. say, what being is there in this world, whoentering the gate of this castle at this moment, and seeing us as weare here, would suppose or imagine us to be what we are? who would saythat thisdy who is beside me was the great queen that we all knowher to be, or that i am that knight of the rueful countenance,trumpeted far and wide by the mouth of fame? now, there can be nodoubt that this art and calling surpasses all those that mankind hasinvented, and is the more deserving of being held in honour inproportion as it is the more exposed to peril. away with those whoassert that letters have the preeminence over arms; i will tellthem, whosoever they may be, that they know not what they say. for thereason which such personsmonly assign, and upon which they chieflyrest, is, that thebours of the mind are greater than those of thebody, and that arms give employment to the body alone; as if thecalling were a porters trade, for which nothing more is required thansturdy strength; or as if, in what we who profess them call arms,there were not included acts of vigour for the execution of which highintelligence is requisite; or as if the soul of the warrior, when hehas an army, or the defence of a city under his care, did not exertitself as much by mind as by body. nay; see whether by bodily strengthit be possible to learn or divine the intentions of the enemy, hisns, stratagems, or obstacles, or to ward off impending mischief;for all these are the work of the mind, and in them the body has noshare whatever. since, therefore, arms have need of the mind, asmuch as letters, let us see now which of the two minds, that of theman of letters or that of the warrior, has most to do; and this willbe seen by the end and goal that each seeks to attain; for thatpurpose is the more estimable which has for its aim the nobler object.the end and goal of letters- i am not speaking now of divineletters, the aim of which is to raise and direct the soul to heaven;for with an end so infinite no other can bepared- i speak of humanletters, the end of which is to establish distributive justice, giveto every man that which is his, and see and take care that goodwsare observed: an end undoubtedly noble, lofty, and deserving of highpraise, but not such as should be given to that sought by arms,which have for their end and object peace, the greatest boon thatmen can desire in this life. the first good news the world and mankindreceived was that which the angels announced on the night that was ourday, when they sang in the air, glory to god in the highest, andpeace on earth to men of good-will; and the salutation which thegreat master of heaven and earth taught his disciples and chosenfollowers when they entered any house, was to say, peace be on thishouse; and many other times he said to them, my peace i give untoyou, my peace i leave you, peace be with you; a jewel and aprecious gift given and left by such a hand: a jewel without whichthere can be no happiness either on earth or in heaven. this peaceis the true end of war; and war is only another name for arms. this,then, being admitted, that the end of war is peace, and that so far ithas the advantage of the end of letters, let us turn to the bodilbours of the man of letters, and those of him who follows theprofession of arms, and see which are the greater."
µÚ73Ò³ don quixote delivered his discourse in such a manner and in suchcorrectnguage, that for the time being he made it impossible forany of his hearers to consider him a madman; on the contrary, asthey were mostly gentlemen, to whom arms are an appurtenance by birth,they listened to him with great pleasure as he continued: "here, then,i say is what the student has to undergo; first of all poverty: notthat all are poor, but to put the case as strongly as possible: andwhen i have said that he endures poverty, i think nothing more need besaid about his hard fortune, for he who is poor has no share of thegood things of life. this poverty he suffers from in various ways,hunger, or cold, or nakedness, or all together; but for all that it isnot so extreme but that he gets something to eat, though it may beat somewhat unseasonable hours and from the leavings of the rich;for the greatest misery of the student is what they themselves callgoing out for soup, and there is always some neighbours brazieror hearth for them, which, if it does not warm, at least tempers thecold to them, andstly, they sleepfortably at night under aroof. i will not go into other particrs, as for example want ofshirts, and no superabundance of shoes, thin and threadbaregarments, and gorging themselves to surfeit in their voracity whengood luck has treated them to a banquet of some sort. by this roadthat i have described, rough and hard, stumbling here, fallingthere, getting up again to fall again, they reach the rank theydesire, and that once attained, we have seen many who have passedthese syrtes and scys and ²årybdises, as if borne flying on thewings of favouring fortune; we have seen them, i say, ruling andgoverning the world from a ²åir, their hunger turned into satiety,their cold intofort, their nakedness into fine raiment, theirsleep on a mat into repose in hond and damask, the justly earnedreward of their virtue; but, contrasted andpared with what thewarrior undergoes, all they have undergone falls far short of it, as iam now about to show." ²åpter xxxviii which treats of the curious discourse don quixote delivered onarms and letters continuing his discourse don quixote said: "as we began in thestudents case with poverty and its apaniments, let us see nowif the soldier is richer, and we shall find that in poverty itselfthere is no one poorer; for he is dependent on his miserable pay,whicheste or never, or else on what he can plunder, seriouslyimperilling his life and conscience; and sometimes his nakednesswill be so great that a Éäd doublet serves him for uniform andshirt, and in the depth of winter he has to defend himself against theinclemency of the weather in the open field with nothing better thanthe breath of his mouth, which i need not say,ing from an emptyce, muste out cold, contrary to thews of nature. to besure he looks forward to the approach of night to make up for allthese diforts on the bed that awaits him, which, unless by somefault of his, never sins by being over narrow, for he can easilymeasure out on the ground as he likes, and roll himself about in it tohis hearts content without any fear of the Éäets slipping awayfrom him. then, after all this, suppose the day and hour for takinghis degree in his calling to havee; suppose the day of battle tohave arrived, when they invest him with the doctors cap made of lint,to mend some bullet-hole, perhaps, that has gone through histemples, or left him with a crippled arm or leg. or if this does nothappen, and merciful heaven watches over him and keeps him safe andsound, it may be he will be in the same poverty he was in before,and he must go through more engagements and more battles, andevictorious out of all before he betters himself; but miracles ofthat sort are seldom seen. for tell me, sirs, if you have everreflected upon it, by how much do those who have gained by war fallshort of the number of those who have periÉäd in it? no doubt youwill reply that there can be noparison, that the dead cannot benumbered, while the living who have been rewarded may be summed upwith three figures. all which is the reverse in the case of men ofletters; for by skirts, to say nothing of sleeves, they all find meansof support; so that though the soldier has more to endure, hisreward is much less. but against all this it may be urged that it iseasier to reward two thousand soldiers, for the former may beremunerated by giving them ces, which must perforce be conferredupon men of their calling, while thetter can only be rpensedout of the very property of the master they serve; but thisimpossibility only strengthens my argument. "putting this, however, aside, for it is a puzzling question forwhich it is difficult to find a solution, let us return to thesuperiority of arms over letters, a matter still undecided, so manyare the arguments put forward on each side; for besides those i havementioned, letters say that without them arms cannot maintainthemselves, for war, too, has itsws and is governed by them, anws belong to the domain of letters and men of letters. to thisarms make answer that without themws cannot be maintained, for byarms states are defended, kingdoms preserved, cities protected,roads made safe, seas cleared of pirates; and, in short, if it werenot for them, states, kingdoms, monarchies, cities, ways by sea annd would be exposed to the violence and confusion which war bringswith it, so long as itsts and is free to make use of its privilegesand powers. and then it is in that whatever costs most is valuedand deserves to be valued most. to attain to eminence in letters costsa man time, watching, hunger, nakedness, headaches, indigestions,and other things of the sort, some of which i have already referredto. but for a man toe in the ordinary course of things to be agood soldier costs him all the student suffers, and in an iparablyhigher degree, for at every step he runs the risk of losing hislife. for what dread of want or poverty that can reach or harass thestudent canpare with what the soldier feels, who finds himselfbeleaguered in some stronghold mounting guard in some ravelin orcavalier, knows that the enemy is pushing a mine towards the postwhere he is stationed, and cannot under any circumstances retire orfly from the imminent danger that threatens him? all he can do is toinform his captain of what is going on so that he may try to remedy itby a counter-mine, and then stand his ground in fear and expectationof the moment when he will fly up to the clouds without wings anddescend into the deep against his will. and if this seems a triflingrisk, let us see whether it is equalled or surpassed by theencounter of two galleys stem to stem, in the midst of the open sea,locked and entangled one with the other, when the soldier has nomore standing room than two feet of the nk of the spur; and yet,though he sees before him threatening him as many ministers of deathas there are cannon of the foe pointed at him, not ance length fromhis body, and sees too that with the first heedless step he will godown to visit the profundities of neptunes bosom, still withdauntless heart, urged on by honour that nerves him, he makeshimself a target for all that musketry, and struggles to cross thatnarrow path to the enemys ship. and what is still more marvellous, nosooner has one gone down into the depths he will never rise fromtill the end of the world, than another takes his ce; and if he toofalls into the sea that waits for him like an enemy, another andanother will seed him without a moments pause between theirdeaths: courage and daring the greatest that all the ²ånces of warcan show. happy the blest ages that knew not the dread fury of thosedevilish engines of artillery, whose inventor i am persuaded is inhell receiving the reward of his diabolical invention, by which hemade it easy for a base and cowardly arm to take the life of a gantgentleman; and that, when he knows not how or whence, in the height ofthe ardour and enthusiasm that fire and animate brave hearts, thereshoulde some random bullet, dis²årged perhaps by one who fledin terror at the sh when he fired off his ursed machine, whichin an instant puts an end to the projects and cuts off the life of onewho deserved to live for ages toe. and thus when i reflect onthis, i am almost tempted to say that in my heart i repent of havingadopted this profession of knight-errant in so detestable an age as welive in now; for though no peril can make me fear, still it gives mesome uneasiness to think that powder and lead may rob me of theopportunity of making myself famous and renowned throughout theknown earth by the might of my arm and the edge of my sword. butheavens will be done; if i seed in my attempt i shall be all themore honoured, as i have faced greater dangers than the knights-errantof yore exposed themselves to." all this lengthy discourse don quixote delivered while the otherssupped, forgetting to raise a morsel to his lips, though sancho morethan once told him to eat his supper, as he would have time enoughafterwards to say all he wanted. it excited fresh pity in those whohad heard him to see a man of apparently sound sense, and withrational views on every subject he discussed, so hopelessly wanting inall, when his wretched unlucky chivalry was in question. the curatetold him he was quite right in all he had said in favour of arms,and that he himself, though a man of letters and a graduate, was ofthe same opinion. they finiÉäd their supper, the cloth was removed, and while thehostess, her daughter, and maritornes were getting don quixote ofman²ås garret ready, in which it was arranged that the women were tobe quartered by themselves for the night, don fernando begged thecaptive to tell them the story of his life, for it could not fail tobe strange and interesting, to judge by the hints he had let fall onhis arrival inpany with zoraida. to this the captive repliedthat he would very willingly yield to his request, only he fearedhis tale would not give them as much pleasure as he wiÉäd;nevertheless, not to be wanting inpliance, he would tell it. thecurate and the others thanked him and added their entreaties, and hefinding himself so pressed said there was no asion ask, where mand had such weight, and added, "if your worships will give meyour attention you will hear a true story which, perhaps, fictitiousones constructed with ingenious and studied art cannote up to."these words made them settle themselves in their ces and preserve adeep silence, and he seeing them waiting on his words in muteexpectation, began thus in a pleasant quiet voice.
µÚ74Ò³ ²åpter xxxix wherein the captive rtes his life and adventures my family had its origin in a vige in the mountains of leon,and nature had been kinder and more generous to it than fortune;though in the general poverty of thosemunities my father passedfor being even a rich man; and he would have been so in reality had hebeen as clever in preserving his property as he was in spending it.this tendency of his to be liberal and profuse he had acquired fromhaving been a soldier in his youth, for the soldiers life is a schoolin which the niggard bes free-handed and the free-handed prodigal;and if any soldiers are to be found who are misers, they aremonsters of rare urrence. my father went beyond liberality andbordered on prodigality, a disposition by no means advantageous to amarried man who has children to seed to his name and position. myfather had three, all sons, and all of sufficient age to make choiceof a profession. finding, then, that he was unable to resist hispropensity, he resolved to divest himself of the instrument andcause of his prodigality andvishness, to divest himself ofwealth, without which alexander himself would have seemedparsimonious; and so calling us all three aside one day into a room,he addressed us in words somewhat to the following effect: "my sons, to assure you that i love you, no more need be known orsaid than that you are my sons; and to encourage a suspicion that i donot love you, no more is needed than the knowledge that i have noself-control as far as preservation of your patrimony is concerned;therefore, that you may for the future feel sure that i love youlike a father, and have no wish to ruin you like a stepfather, ipropose to do with you what i have for some time back meditated, andafter mature deliberation decided upon. you are now of an age tochoose your line of life or at least make choice of a calling thatwill bring you honour and profit when you are older; and what i haveresolved to do is to divide my property into four parts; three iwill give to you, to each his portion without making any difference,and the other i will retain to live upon and support myself forwhatever remainder of life heaven may be pleased to grant me. but iwish each of you on taking possession of the share that falls to himto follow one of the paths i shall indicate. in this spain of oursthere is a proverb, to my mind very true- as they all are, being shortaphorisms drawn from long practical experience- and the one i refer tosays, the church, or the sea, or the kings house; as much as tosay, in inernguage, whoever wants to flourish and be rich,let him follow the church, or go to sea, adoptingmerce as hiscalling, or go into the kings service in his household, for they say,better a kings crumb than a lords favour. i say so because it ismy will and pleasure that one of you should follow letters, anothertrade, and the third serve the king in the wars, for it is a difficultmatter to gain admission to his service in his household, and if wardoes not bring much wealth it confers great distinction and fame.eight days hence i will give you your full shares in money, withoutdefrauding you of a farthing, as you will see in the end. now tellme if you are willing to follow out my idea and advice as i havid it before you." having called upon me as the eldest to answer, i, after urging himnot to strip himself of his property but to spend it all as hepleased, for we were young men able to gain our living, consented tply with his wiÉäs, and said that mine were to follow theprofession of arms and thereby serve god and my king. my secondbrother having made the same proposal, decided upon going to theindies, embarking the portion that fell to him in trade. the youngest,and in my opinion the wisest, said he would rather follow thechurch, or go toplete his studies at smanca. as soon as wehade to an understanding, and made choice of our professions, myfather embraced us all, and in the short time he mentioned carriedinto effect all he had promised; and when he had given to each hisshare, which as well as i remember was three thousand ducats apiece incash £¨for an uncle of ours bought the estate and paid for it down, notto let it go out of the family£©£¬ we all three on the same day tookleave of our good father; and at the same time, as it seemed to meinhuman to leave my father with such scanty means in his old age, iinduced him to take two of my three thousand ducats, as theremainder would be enough to provide me with all a soldier needed.my two brothers, moved by my example, gave him each a thousand ducats,so that there was left for my father four thousand ducats in money,besides three thousand, the value of the portion that fell to himwhich he preferred to retain innd instead of selling it. finally,as i said, we took leave of him, and of our uncle whom i havementioned, not without sorrow and tears on both sides, they ²årgingus to let them know whenever an opportunity offered how we fared,whether well or ill. we promised to do so, and when he had embraced usand given us his blessing, one set out for smanca, the other forseville, and i for alicante, where i had heard there was a genoesevessel taking in a cargo of wool for genoa. it is now some twenty-two years since i left my fathers house,and all that time, though i have written several letters, i have hadno news whatever of him or of my brothers; my own adventures duringthat period i will now rte briefly. i embarked at alicante, reachedgenoa after a prosperous voyage, and proceeded thence to mn,where i provided myself with arms and a few soldiers outrements;thence it was my intention to go and take service in piedmont, butas i was already on the road to alessandria de paglia, i learnedthat the great duke of alva was on his way to nders. i ²ånged myns, joined him, served under him in the campaigns he made, waspresent at the deaths of the counts egmont and horn, and waspromoted to be ensign under a famous captain of guadjara, diegode urbina by name. some time after my arrival in nders news came ofthe league that his holiness pope pius v of happy memory, had madewith venice and spain against themon enemy, the turk, who had justthen with his fleet taken the famous ind of cyprus, whichbelonged to the vians, a loss deplorable and disastrous. it wasknown as a fact that the most serene don john of austria, naturalbrother of our good king don philip, wasing amander-in-chief of the allied forces, and rumours were abroad ofthe vast warlike preparations which were being made, all which stirredmy heart and filled me with a longing to take part in the campaignwhich was expected; and though i had reason to believe, and almostcertain promises, that on the first opportunity that presenteditself i should be promoted to be captain, i preferred to leave and betake myself, as i did, to italy; and it was my good fortune thatdon john had just arrived at genoa, and was going on to naples to jointhe vian fleet, as he afterwards did at messina. i may say, inshort, that i took part in that glorious expedition, promoted bythis time to be a captain of infantry, to which honourable ²årge mygood luck rather than my merits raised me; and that day- sofortunate for christendom, because then all the nations of the earthwere disabused of the error under which theyy in imagining theturks to be invincible on sea-on that day, i say, on which the ottomanpride and arrogance were broken, among all that were there madehappy £¨for the christians who died that day were happier than thosewho remained alive and victorious£© i alone was miserable; for, insteadof some naval crown that i might have expected had it been in romantimes, on the night that followed that famous day i found myselfwith fetters on my feet and manacles on my hands. it happened in this way: el u²åli, the king of algiers, a daringand sessful corsair, having attacked and taken the leadingmaltese galley £¨only three knights being left alive in it, and theybadly wounded£©£¬ the chief galley of john andrea, on board of which iand mypany were ced, came to its relief, and doing as was boundto do in such a case, i leaped on board the enemys galley, which,Éäering off from that which had attacked it, prevented my men fromfollowing me, and so i found myself alone in the midst of myenemies, who were in such numbers that i was unable to resist; inshort i was taken, covered with wounds; el u²åli, as you know,sirs, made his escape with his entire squadron, and i was left aprisoner in his power, the only sad being among so many filled withjoy, and the only captive among so many free; for there were fifteenthousand christians, all at the oar in the turkish fleet, thatregained their longed-for liberty that day. they carried me to constantinople, where the grand turk, selim, mademy master general at sea for having done his duty in the battle andcarried off as evidence of his bravery the standard of the order ofmalta. the following year, which was the year seventy-two, i foundmyself at navarino rowing in the leading galley with the threnterns. there i saw and observed how the opportunity of capturingthe whole turkish fleet in harbour was lost; for all the marines andjanizzaries that belonged to it made sure that they were about to beattacked inside the very harbour, and had their kits and pasamaques,or shoes, ready to flee at once on shore without waiting to beassailed, in so great fear did they stand of our fleet. but heavenordered it otherwise, not for any fault or neglect of the generalwhomanded on our side, but for the sins of christendom, andbecause it was gods will and pleasure that we should always haveinstruments of punishment to ²åstise us. as it was, el u²åli tookrefuge at modon, which is an ind near navarino, andndingforces fortified the mouth of the harbour and waited quietly until donjohn retired. on this expedition was taken the galley called theprize, whose captain was a son of the famous corsair barbarossa. itwas taken by the chief neapolitan galley called the Éä-wolfmanded by that thunderbolt of war, that father of his men, thatsessful and unconquered captain don alvaro de bazan, marquis ofsanta cruz; and i cannot help telling you what took ce at thecapture of the prize.
µÚ75Ò³ the son of barbarossa was so cruel, and treated his ves so badly,that, when those who were at the oars saw that the Éä-wolf galley wasbearing down upon them and gaining upon them, they all at once droppedtheir oars and seized their captain who stood on the stage at theend of the gangway shouting to them to row lustily; and passing him onfrom bench to bench, from the poop to the prow, they so bit him thatbefore he had got much past the mast his soul had already got to hell;so great, as i said, was the cruelty with which he treated them, andthe hatred with which they hated him. we returned to constantinople, and the following year,seventy-three, it became known that don john had seized tunis andtaken the kingdom from the turks, and ced muley hamet inpossession, putting an end to the hopes which muley hamida, thecruelest and bravest moor in the world, entertained of returning toreign there. the grand turk took the loss greatly to heart, and withthe cunning which all his race possess, he made peace with thevians £¨who were much more eager for it than he was£©£¬ and thefollowing year, seventy-four, he attacked the goletta and the fortwhich don john had left half built near tunis. while all theseevents were urring, i wasbouring at the oar without any hopeof freedom; at least i had no hope of obtaining it by ransom, for iwas firmly resolved not to write to my father telling him of mymisfortunes. at length the goletta fell, and the fort fell, beforewhich ces there were seventy-five thousand regr turkishsoldiers, and more than four hundred thousand moors and arabs from allparts of africa, and in the train of all this great host suchmunitions and engines of war, and so many pioneers that with theirhands they might have covered the goletta and the fort with handfulsof earth. the first to fall was the goletta, until then reckonedimpregnable, and it fell, not by any fault of its defenders, who didall that they could and should have done, but because experimentproved how easily entrenchments could be made in the desert sandthere; for water used to be found at two palms depth, while theturks found none at two yards; and so by means of a quantity ofsandbags they raised their works so high that theymanded the wallsof the fort, sweeping them as if from a cavalier, so that no one wasable to make a stand or maintain the defence. it was amon opinion that our men should not have shut themselvesup in the goletta, but should have waited in the open at thnding-ce; but those who say so talk at random and with littleknowledge of such matters; for if in the goletta and in the fort therewere barely seven thousand soldiers, how could such a small number,however resolute, sally out and hold their own against numbers likethose of the enemy? and how is it possible to help losing a strongholdthat is not relieved, above all when surrounded by a host ofdetermined enemies in their own country? but many thought, and ithought so too, that it was special favour and mercy which heavenshowed to spain in permitting the destruction of that source andhiding ce of mischief, that devourer, sponge, and moth of countlessmoney, fruitlessly wasted there to no other purpose save preservingthe memory of its capture by the invincible ²årles v; as if to makethat eternal, as it is and will be, these stones were needed tosupport it. the fort also fell; but the turks had to win it inch byinch, for the soldiers who defended it fought so gantly and stoutlythat the number of the enemy killed in twenty-two general assaultsexceeded twenty-five thousand. of three hundred that remained alivenot one was taken unwounded, a clear and manifest proof of theirgantry and resolution, and how sturdily they had defendedthemselves and held their post. a small fort or tower which was in themiddle of thegoon under themand of don juan zanoguera, avalencian gentleman and a famous soldier, capitted upon terms. theytook prisoner don pedro puertocarrero,mandant of the goletta,who had done all in his power to defend his fortress, and took theloss of it so much to heart that he died of grief on the way toconstantinople, where they were carrying him a prisoner. they alsotook themandant of the fort, gabrio cerbellon by name, amnese gentleman, a great engineer and a very brave soldier. inthese two fortresses periÉäd many persons of note, among whom waspagano doria, knight of the order of st. john, a man of generousdisposition, as was shown by his extreme liberality to his brother,the famous john andrea doria; and what made his death the more sad wasthat he was in by some arabs to whom, seeing that the fort wasnow lost, he entrusted himself, and who offered to conduct him inthe disguise of a moor to tabarca, a small fort or station on thecoast held by the genoese employed in the coral fiÉäry. these arabscut off his head and carried it to themander of the turkish fleet,who proved on them the truth of our castilian proverb, that "thoughthe treason may please, the traitor is hated;" for they say he orderedthose who brought him the present to be hanged for not havingbrought him alive. among the christians who were taken in the fort was one named donpedro de agur, a native of some ce, i know not what, inandalusia, who had been ensign in the fort, a soldier of greatrepute and rare intelligence, who had in particr a special gift forwhat they call poetry. i say so because his fate brought him to mygalley and to my bench, and made him a ve to the same master; andbefore we left the port this gentlemanposed two sos by wayof epitaphs, one on the goletta and the other on the fort; indeed, imay as well repeat them, for i have them by heart, and i think theywill be liked rather than disliked. the instant the captive mentioned the name of don pedro deagur, don fernando looked at hispanions and they all threesmiled; and when he came to speak of the sos one of them said,"before your worship proceeds any further i entreat you to tell mewhat became of that don pedro de agur you have spoken of." "all i know is," replied the captive, "that after having been inconstantinople two years, he escaped in the disguise of an arnaut,inpany with a greek spy; but whether he regained his liberty ornot i cannot tell, though i fancy he did, because a year afterwardsi saw the greek at constantinople, though i was unable to ask him whatthe result of the journey was." "well then, you are right," returned the gentleman, "for that donpedro is my brother, and he is now in our vige in good health,rich, married, and with three children." "thanks be to god for all the mercies he has shown him," said thecaptive; "for to my mind there is no happiness on earth toparewith recovering lost liberty." "and what is more," said the gentleman, "i know the sos mybrother made." "then let your worship repeat them," said the captive, "for you willrecite them better than i can." "with all my heart," said the gentleman; "that on the goletta runsthus." ²åpter xl in which the story of the captive is continued. so "blest souls, that, from this mortal husk set free, in guerdon of brave deeds beatified, above this lowly orb of ours abide made heirs of heaven and immortality, with noble rage and ardour glowing ye your strength, while strength was yours, in battle plied, and with your own blood and the foemans dyed the sandy soil and the encircling sea. it was the ebbing life-blood first that failed the weary arms; the stout hearts never quailed. though vanquiÉäd, yet ye earned the victors crown: though mourned, yet still triumphant was your fall for there ye won, between the sword and wall, in heaven glory and on earth renown." "that is it exactly, ording to my recollection," said thecaptive. "well then, that on the fort," said the gentleman, "if my memoryserves me, goes thus: so "up from this wasted soil, this shattered Éäll, whose walls and towers here in ruin lie, three thousand soldier souls took wing on high, in the bright mansions of the blest to dwell. the onught of the foeman to repel by might of arm all vainly did they try, and when at length twas left them but to die, wearied and few thest defenders fell. and this same arid soil hath ever been a haunt of countless mournful memories, as well in our day as in days of yore. but never yet to heaven it sent, i ween, from its hard bosom purer souls than these, or braver bodies on its surface bore." the sos were not disliked, and the captive was rejoiced atthe tidings they gave him of hisrade, and continuing his tale,he went on to say: the goletta and the fort being thus in their hands, the turks gaveorders to dismantle the goletta- for the fort was reduced to such astate that there was nothing left to level- and to do the work morequickly and easily they mined it in three ces; but nowhere werethey able to blow up the part which seemed to be the least strong,that is to say, the old walls, while all that remained standing of thenew fortifications that the fratin had made came to the ground withthe greatest ease. finally the fleet returned victorious andtriumphant to constantinople, and a few monthster died my master,el u²åli, otherwise u²åli fartax, which means in turkish "the scabbyrenegade;" for that he was; it is the practice with the turks toname people from some defect or virtue they may possess; the reasonbeing that there are among them only four surnames belonging tofamilies tracing their descent from the ottoman house, and the others,as i have said, take their names and surnames either from bodilyblemiÉäs or moral qualities. this "scabby one" rowed at the oar asa ve of the grand signors for fourteen years, and when overthirty-four years of age, in resentment at having been struck by aturk while at the oar, turned renegade and renounced his faith inorder to be able to revenge himself; and such was his valour that,without owing his advancement to the base ways and means by which mostfavourites of the grand signor rise to power, he came to be king ofalgiers, and afterwards general-on-sea, which is the third ce oftrust in the realm. he was a cbrian by birth, and a worthy manmorally, and he treated his ves with great humanity. he had threethousand of them, and after his death they were divided, as hedirected by his will, between the grand signor £¨who is heir of all whodie and shares with the children of the deceased£© and his renegades. ifell to the lot of a vian renegade who, when a cabin boy onboard a ship, had been taken by u²åli and was so much beloved byhim that he became one of his most favoured youths. he came to bethe most cruel renegade i ever saw: his name was hassan aga, and hegrew very rich and became king of algiers. with him i went therefrom constantinople, rather d to be so near spain, not that iintended to write to anyone about my unhappy lot, but to try iffortune would be kinder to me in algiers than in constantinople, wherei had attempted in a thousand ways to escape without ever finding afavourable time or ²ånce; but in algiers i resolved to seek for othermeans of effecting the purpose i cheriÉäd so dearly; for the hopeof obtaining my liberty never deserted me; and when in my plots andschemes and attempts the result did not answer my expectations,without giving way to despair i immediately began to look out for orconjure up some new hope to support me, however faint or feeble itmight be.
µÚ76Ò³ in this way i lived on immured in a building or prison called by theturks a bano in which they confine the christian captives, as wellthose that are the kings as those belonging to private individuals,and also what they call those of the almacen, which is as much as tosay the ves of the municipality, who serve the city in the publicworks and other employments; but captives of this kind recover theirliberty with great difficulty, for, as they are public property andhave no particr master, there is no one with whom to treat fortheir ransom, even though they may have the means. to these banos,as i have said, some private individuals of the town are in thehabit of bringing their captives, especially when they are to beransomed; because there they can keep them in safety andfort untiltheir ransom arrives. the kings captives also, that are on ransom, donot go out to work with the rest of the crew, unless when their ransomis dyed; for then, to make them write for it more pressingly,theypel them to work and go for wood, which is no lightbour. i, however, was one of those on ransom, for when it was discoveredthat i was a captain, although i dered my scanty means and wantof fortune, nothing could dissuade them from including me among thegentlemen and those waiting to be ransomed. they put a ²åin on me,more as a mark of this than to keep me safe, and so i passed my lifein that bano with several other gentlemen and persons of qualitymarked out as held to ransom; but though at times, or rather almostalways, we suffered from hunger and scanty clothing, nothingdistressed us so much as hearing and seeing at every turn theunexampled and unheard-of cruelties my master inflicted upon thechristians. every day he hanged a man, impaled one, cut off the earsof another; and all with so little provocation, or so entirely withoutany, that the turks acknowledged he did it merely for the sake ofdoing it, and because he was by nature murderously disposed towardsthe whole human race. the only one that fared at all well with him wasa spanish soldier, something de saavedra by name, to whom he nevergave a blow himself, or ordered a blow to be given, or addressed ahard word, although he had done things that will dwell in the memoryof the people there for many a year, and all to recover his liberty;and for the least of the many things he did we all dreaded that hewould be impaled, and he himself was in fear of it more than once; andonly that time does not allow, i could tell you now something ofwhat that soldier did, that would interest and astonish you muchmore than the narration of my own tale. to go on with my story; the courtyard of our prison was overlookedby the windows of the house belonging to a wealthy moor of highposition; and these, as is usual in moorish houses, were ratherloopholes than windows, and besides were covered with thick andclosettice-work. it so happened, then, that as i was one day on theterrace of our prison with three otherrades, trying, to passaway the time, how far we could leap with our ²åins, we beingalone, for all the other christians had gone out to work, i ²ånced toraise my eyes, and from one of these little closed windows i saw areed appear with a cloth attached to the end of it, and it kept wavingto and fro, and moving as if making signs to us toe and take it.we watched it, and one of those who were with me went and stoodunder the reed to see whether they would let it drop, or what theywould do, but as he did so the reed was raised and moved from sideto side, as if they meant to say "no" by a shake of the head. thechristian came back, and it was again lowered, making the samemovements as before. another of myrades went, and with him thesame happened as with the first, and then the third went forward,but with the same result as the first and second. seeing this i didnot like not to try my luck, and as soon as i came under the reed itwas dropped and fell inside the bano at my feet. i hastened to untiethe cloth, in which i perceived a knot, and in this were ten cianis,which are coins of base gold, current among the moors, and eachworth ten reals of our money. it is needless to say i rejoiced over this godsend, and my joy wasnot less than my wonder as i strove to imagine how this good fortunecould havee to us, but to me specially; for the evidentunwillingness to drop the reed for any but me showed that it was forme the favour was intended. i took my wee money, broke the reed,and returned to the terrace, and looking up at the window, i saw avery white hand put out that opened and shut very quickly. from thiswe gathered or fancied that it must be some woman living in that housethat had done us this kindness, and to show that we were gratefulfor it, we made sams after the fashion of the moors, bowing thehead, bending the body, and crossing the arms on the breast. shortlyafterwards at the same window a small cross made of reeds was putout and immediately withdrawn. this sign led us to believe that somechristian woman was a captive in the house, and that it was Éä whohad been so good to us; but the whiteness of the hand and thebracelets we had perceived made us dismiss that idea, though wethought it might be one of the christian renegades whom theirmasters very often take aswful wives, and dly, for they preferthem to the women of their own nation. in all our conjectures wewere wide of the truth; so from that time forward our soleupation was watching and gazing at the window where the cross hadappeared to us, as if it were our pole-star; but at least fifteen dayspassed without our seeing either it or the hand, or any other sign andthough meanwhile we endeavoured with the utmost pains to ascertain whoit was that lived in the house, and whether there were any christianrenegade in it, nobody could ever tell us anything more than that hewho lived there was a rich moor of high position, hadji morato byname, formerly alcaide of pata, an office of high dignity amongthem. but when we least thought it was going to rain any more cianisfrom that quarter, we saw the reed suddenly appear with anothercloth tied in arger knot attached to it, and this at a time when,as on the former asion, the bano was deserted and unupied. we made trial as before, each of the same three going forward beforei did; but the reed was delivered to none but me, and on my approachit was let drop. i untied the knot and i found forty spanish goldcrowns with a paper written in arabic, and at the end of the writingthere was arge cross drawn. i kissed the cross, took the crowns andreturned to the terrace, and we all made our sams; again the handappeared, i made signs that i would read the paper, and then thewindow was closed. we were all puzzled, though filled with joy at whathad taken ce; and as none of us understood arabic, great was ourcuriosity to know what the paper contained, and still greater thedifficulty of finding some one to read it. atst i resolved toconfide in a renegade, a native of murcia, who professed a verygreat friendship for me, and had given pledges that bound him tokeep any secret i might entrust to him; for it is the custom with somerenegades, when they intend to return to christian territory, to carryabout them certificates from captives of mark testifying, inwhatever form they can, that such and such a renegade is a worthyman who has always shown kindness to christians, and is anxious toescape on the first opportunity that may present itself. some obtainthese testimonials with good intentions, others put them to acunning use; for when they go to pige on christian territory, ifthey ²ånce to be cast away, or taken prisoners, they produce theircertificates and say that from these papers may be seen the objectthey came for, which was to remain on christian ground, and that itwas to this end they joined the turks in their foray. in this way theyescape the consequences of the first outburst and make their peacewith the church before it does them any harm, and then when theyhave the ²ånce they return to barbary to be what they werebefore. others, however, there are who procure these papers and makeuse of them honestly, and remain on christian soil. this friend ofmine, then, was one of these renegades that i have described; he hadcertificates from all ourrades, in which we testified in hisfavour as strongly as we could; and if the moors had found thepapers they would have burned him alive. i knew that he understood arabic very well, and could not only speakbut also write it; but before i disclosed the whole matter to him, iasked him to read for me this paper which i had found by ident in ahole in my cell. he opened it and remained some time examining itand muttering to himself as he tranted it. i asked him if heunderstood it, and he told me he did perfectly well, and that if iwiÉäd him to tell me its meaning word for word, i must give him penand ink that he might do it more satisfactorily. we at once gave himwhat he required, and he set about tranting it bit by bit, and whenhe had done he said: "all that is here in spanish is what the moorish paper contains, andyou must bear in mind that when it says lmarien it means ourdy the virgin mary." we read the paper and it ran thus: "when i was a child my father had a ve who taught me to praythe christian prayer in my ownnguage, and told me many things aboutl marien. the christian died, and i know that Éä did not go to thefire, but to ah, because since then i have seen her twice, andÉä told me to go to thend of the christians to see l marien,who had great love for me. i know not how to go. i have seen manychristians, but except thyself none has seemed to me to be agentleman. i am young and beautiful, and have plenty of money totake with me. see if thou canst contrive how we may go, and if thouwilt thou shalt be my husband there, and if thou wilt not it willnot distress me, for l marien will find me some one to marry me.i myself have written this: have a care to whom thou givest it toread: trust no moor, for they are all perfidious. i am greatlytroubled on this ount, for i would not have thee confide in anyone,because if my father knew it he would at once fling me down a well andcover me with stones. i will put a thread to the reed; tie theanswer to it, and if thou hast no one to write for thee in arabic,tell it to me by signs, for l marien will make me understandthee. Éä and ah and this cross, which i often kiss as thecaptive bade me, protect thee."
µÚ77Ò³ judge, sirs, whether we had reason for surprise and joy at the wordsof this paper; and both one and the other were so great, that therenegade perceived that the paper had not been found by ²ånce, buthad been in reality addressed to some one of us, and he begged us,if what he suspected were the truth, to trust him and tell him all,for he would risk his life for our freedom; and so saying he tookout from his breast a metal crucifix, and with many tears swore by thegod the image represented, in whom, sinful and wicked as he was, hetruly and faithfully believed, to be loyal to us and keep secretwhatever we chose to reveal to him; for he thought and almostforesaw that by means of her who had written that paper, he and all ofus would obtain our liberty, and he himself obtain the object he somuch desired, his restoration to the bosom of the holy motherchurch, from which by his own sin and ignorance he was now severedlike a corrupt limb. the renegade said this with so many tears andsuch signs of repentance, that with one consent we all agreed totell him the whole truth of the matter, and so we gave him a fount of all, without hiding anything from him. we pointed out tohim the window at which the reed appeared, and he by that means tooknote of the house, and resolved to ascertain with particr carewho lived in it. we agreed also that it would be advisable to answerthe moorishdys letter, and the renegade without a moments dytook down the words i dictated to him, which were exactly what i shalltell you, for nothing of importance that took ce in this affair hasescaped my memory, or ever will while lifests. this, then, wasthe answer returned to the moorishdy: "the true ah protect thee,dy, and that blessed marien who isthe true mother of god, and who has put it into thy heart to go to thnd of the christians, because Éä loves thee. entreat her that Éäbe pleased to show thee how thou canst execute themand Éä givesthee, for Éä will, such is her goodness. on my own part, and onthat of all these christians who are with me, i promise to do all thatwe can for thee, even to death. fail not to write to me and informme what thou dost mean to do, and i will always answer thee; for thegreat ah has given us a christian captive who can speak and writethynguage well, as thou mayest see by this paper; without fear,therefore, thou canst inform us of all thou wouldst. as to what thousayest, that if thou dost reach thend of the christians thou wiltbe my wife, i give thee my promise upon it as a good christian; andknow that the christians keep their promises better than the moors.ah and marien his mother watch over thee, mydy." the paper being written and folded i waited two days until thebano was empty as before, and immediately repaired to the usual walkon the terrace to see if there were any sign of the reed, which wasnot long in making its appearance. as soon as i saw it, although icould not distinguish who put it out, i showed the paper as a signto attach the thread, but it was already fixed to the reed, and toit i tied the paper; and shortly afterwards our star once more madeits appearance with the white g of peace, the little bundle. it wasdropped, and i picked it up, and found in the cloth, in gold andsilver coins of all sorts, more than fifty crowns, which fifty timesmore strengthened our joy and doubled our hope of gaining our liberty.that very night our renegade returned and said he had learned that themoor we had been told of lived in that house, that his name washadji morato, that he was enormously rich, that he had one onlydaughter the heiress of all his wealth, and that it was the generalopinion throughout the city that Éä was the most beautiful woman inbarbary, and that several of the viceroys who came there had soughther for a wife, but that Éä had been always unwilling to marry; andhe had learned, moreover, that Éä had a christian ve who was nowdead; all which agreed with the contents of the paper. weimmediately took counsel with the renegade as to what means would haveto be adopted in order to carry off the moorishdy and bring usall to christian territory; and in the end it was agreed that forthe present we should wait for a secondmunication from zoraida£¨for that was the name of her who now desires to be called maria£©£¬because we saw clearly that Éä and no one else could find a way outof all these difficulties. when we had decided upon this therenegade told us not to be uneasy, for he would lose his life orrestore us to liberty. for four days the bano was filled withpeople, for which reason the reed dyed its appearance for fourdays, but at the end of that time, when the bano was, as itgenerally was, empty, it appeared with the cloth so bulky that itpromised a happy birth. reed and cloth came down to me, and i foundanother paper and a hundred crowns in gold, without any other coin.the renegade was present, and in our cell we gave him the paper toread, which was to this effect: "i cannot think of a n, senor, for our going to spain, nor hasl marien shown me one, though i have asked her. all that can bedone is for me to give you plenty of money in gold from this window.with it ransom yourself and your friends, and let one of you go to thnd of the christians, and there buy a vessel ande back for theothers; and he will find me in my fathers garden, which is at thebabazon gate near the seashore, where i shall be all this summerwith my father and my servants. you can carry me away from there bynight without any danger, and bring me to the vessel. and rememberthou art to be my husband, else i will pray to marien to punishthee. if thou canst not trust anyone to go for the vessel, ransomthyself and do thou go, for i know thou wilt return more surely thanany other, as thou art a gentleman and a christian. endeavour tomake thyself acquainted with the garden; and when i see thee walkingyonder i shall know that the bano is empty and i will give theeabundance of money. ah protect thee, senor." these were the words and contents of the second paper, and onhearing them, each dered himself willing to be the ransomed one,and promised to go and return with scrupulous good faith; and i toomade the same offer; but to all this the renegade objected, sayingthat he would not on any ount consent to one being set freebefore all went together, as experience had taught him how ill thosewho have been set free keep promises which they made in captivity; forcaptives of distinction frequently had recourse to this n, payingthe ransom of one who was to go to valencia or majorca with money toenable him to arm a bark and return for the others who had ransomedhim, but who never came back; for recovered liberty and the dread oflosing it again efface from the memory all the obligations in theworld. and to prove the truth of what he said, he told us briefly whathad happened to a certain christian gentleman almost at that verytime, the strangest case that had ever urred even there, whereastonishing and marvellous things are happening every instant. inshort, he ended by saying that what could and ought to be done wasto give the money intended for the ransom of one of us christians tohim, so that he might with it buy a vessel there in algiers underthe pretence of bing a mer²ånt and trader at tetuan and along thecoast; and when master of the vessel, it would be easy for him tohit on some way of getting us all out of the bano and putting us onboard; especially if the moorishdy gave, as Éä said, moneyenough to ransom all, because once free it would be the easiestthing in the world for us to embark even in open day; but the greatestdifficulty was that the moors do not allow any renegade to buy orown any craft, unless it be arge vessel for going on rovingexpeditions, because they are afraid that anyone who buys a smallvessel, especially if he be a spaniard, only wants it for thepurpose of escaping to christian territory. this however he couldget over by arranging with a tagarin moor to go shares with him in thepur²åse of the vessel, and in the profit on the cargo; and undercover of this he could be master of the vessel, in which case helooked upon all the rest as apliÉäd. but though to me and mrades it had seemed a better n to send to majorca for thevessel, as the moorishdy suggested, we did not dare to opposehim, fearing that if we did not do as he said he would denounce us,and ce us in danger of losing all our lives if he were todisclose our dealings with zoraida, for whose life we would have allgiven our own. we therefore resolved to put ourselves in the handsof god and in the renegades; and at the same time an answer was givento zoraida, telling her that we would do all Éä rmended, forÉä had given as good advice as if l marien had delivered it, andthat it depended on her alone whether we were to defer the business orput it in execution at once. i renewed my promise to be her husband;and thus the next day that the bano ²ånced to be empty Éä atdifferent times gave us by means of the reed and cloth two thousandgold crowns and a paper in which Éä said that the next juma, thatis to say friday, Éä was going to her fathers garden, but thatbefore Éä went Éä would give us more money; and if it were notenough we were to let her know, as Éä would give us as much as weasked, for her father had so much he would not miss it, and besidesÉä kept all the keys. we at once gave the renegade five hundred crowns to buy thevessel, and with eight hundred i ransomed myself, giving the moneyto a valencian mer²ånt who happened to be in algiers at the time, andwho had me released on his word, pledging it that on the arrival ofthe first ship from valencia he would pay my ransom; for if he hadgiven the money at once it would have made the king suspect that myransom money had been for a long time in algiers, and that themer²ånt had for his own advantage kept it secret. in fact my masterwas so difficult to deal with that i dared not on any ount pay downthe money at once. the thursday before the friday on which the fairzoraida was to go to the garden Éä gave us a thousand crowns more,and warned us of her departure, begging me, if i were ransomed, tofind out her fathers garden at once, and by all means to seek anopportunity of going there to see her. i answered in a few wordsthat i would do so, and that Éä must remember tomend us to lmarien with all the prayers the captive had taught her. this havingbeen done, steps were taken to ransom our threerades, so as toenable them to quit the bano, and lest, seeing me ransomed andthemselves not, though the money was forting, they should make adisturbance about it and the devil should prompt them to dosomething that might injure zoraida; for though their position mightbe sufficient to relieve me from this apprehension, nevertheless i wasunwilling to run any risk in the matter; and so i had them ransomed inthe same way as i was, handing over all the money to the mer²ånt sothat he might with safety and confidence give security; without,however, confiding our arrangement and secret to him, which might havebeen dangerous.
µÚ78Ò³ ²åpter xli in which the captive still continues his adventures before fifteen days were over our renegade had already pur²åsedan excellent vessel with room for more than thirty persons; and tomake the transaction safe and lend a colour to it, he thought itwell to make, as he did, a voyage to a ce called ÉärÉäl, twentyleagues from algiers on the oran side, where there is an extensivetrade in dried figs. two or three times he made this voyage inpanywith the tagarin already mentioned. the moors of aragon are calledtagarins in barbary, and those of granada mudejars; but in the kingdomof fez they call the mudejars elches, and they are the people the kingchiefly employs in war. to proceed: every time he passed with hisvessel he anchored in a cove that was not two crossbow shots fromthe garden where zoraida was waiting; and there the renegade, togetherwith the two moorishds that rowed, used purposely to stationhimself, either going through his prayers, or else practising as apart what he meant to perform in earnest. and thus he would go tozoraidas garden and ask for fruit, which her father gave him, notknowing him; but though, as he afterwards told me, he sought tospeak to zoraida, and tell her who he was, and that by my orders hewas to take her to thend of the christians, so that Éä mightfeel satisfied and easy, he had never been able to do so; for themoorish women do not allow themselves to be seen by any moor orturk, unless their husband or father bid them: with christian captivesthey permit freedom of intercourse andmunication, even more thanmight be considered proper. but for my part i should have been sorryif he had spoken to her, for perhaps it might have rmed her to findher affairs talked of by renegades. but god, who ordered it otherwise,afforded no opportunity for our renegades well-meant purpose; and he,seeing how safely he could go to ÉärÉäl and return, and anchorwhen and how and where he liked, and that the tagarin his partnerhad no will but his, and that, now i was ransomed, all we wanted wasto find some christians to row, told me to look out for any i shouldhe willing to take with me, over and above those who had beenransomed, and to engage them for the next friday, which he fixedupon for our departure. on this i spoke to twelve spaniards, all stoutrowers, and such as could most easily leave the city; but it was noeasy matter to find so many just then, because there were twenty shipsout on a cruise and they had taken all the rowers with them; and thesewould not have been found were it not that their master remained athome that summer without going to sea in order to finish a galliotthat he had upon the stocks. to these men i said nothing more thanthat the next friday in the evening they were toe out stealthilyone by one and hang about hadji moratos garden, waiting for methere until i came. these directions i gave each one separately,with orders that if they saw any other christians there they werenot to say anything to them except that i had directed them to wait atthat spot. this preliminary having been settled, another still more necessarystep had to be taken, which was to let zoraida know how mattersstood that Éä might be prepared and forewarned, so as not to be takenby surprise if we were suddenly to seize upon her before Éä thoughtthe christians vessel could have returned. i determined, therefore,to go to the garden and try if i could speak to her; and the daybefore my departure i went there under the pretence of gatheringherbs. the first person i met was her father, who addressed me inthenguage that all over barbary and even in constantinople is themedium between captives and moors, and is neither morisco norcastilian, nor of any other nation, but a mixture of allnguages, bymeans of which we can all understand one another. in this sort onguage, i say, he asked me what i wanted in his garden, and towhom i belonged. i replied that i was a ve of the arnaut mami£¨for i knew as a certainty that he was a very great friend of his£©£¬and that i wanted some herbs to make a sd. he asked me then whetheri were on ransom or not, and what my master demanded for me. whilethese questions and answers were proceeding, the fair zoraida, who hadalready perceived me some time before, came out of the house in thegarden, and as moorish women are by no means particr aboutletting themselves be seen by christians, or, as i have said before,at all coy, Éä had no hesitation ining to where her fatherstood with me; moreover her father, seeing her approaching slowly,called to her toe. it would be beyond my power now to describeto you the great beauty, the high-bred air, the brilliant attire of mybeloved zoraida as Éä presented herself before my eyes. i willcontent myself with saying that more pearls hung from her fair neck,her ears, and her hair than Éä had hairs on her head. on herankles, which as is customary were bare, Éä had carcajes £¨for sobracelets or anklets are called in morisco£© of the purest gold, setwith so many diamonds that Éä told me afterwards her father valuedthem at ten thousand doubloons, and those Éä had on her wrists wereworth as much more. the pearls were in profusion and very fine, forthe highest disy and adornment of the moorish women is deckingthemselves with rich pearls and seed-pearls; and of these there aretherefore more among the moors than among any other people.zoraidas father had to the reputation of possessing a great number,and the purest in all algiers, and of possessing also more than twohundred thousand spanish crowns; and Éä, who is now mistress of meonly, was mistress of all this. whether thus adorned Éä would havebeen beautiful or not, and what Éä must have been in herprosperity, may be imagined from the beauty remaining to her afterso many hardships; for, as everyone knows, the beauty of some womenhas its times and its seasons, and is increased or diminiÉäd by²ånce causes; and naturally the emotions of the mind will heighten orimpair it, though indeed more frequently they totally destroy it. in aword Éä presented herself before me that day attired with theutmost splendour, and supremely beautiful; at any rate, Éä seemedto me the most beautiful object i had ever seen; and when, besides,i thought of all i owed to her i felt as though i had before me someheavenly beinge to earth to bring me relief and happiness. as Éä approached her father told her in his ownnguage that i wasa captive belonging to his friend the arnaut mami, and that i hadefor sd. Éä took up the conversation, and in that mixture of tongues ihave spoken of Éä asked me if i was a gentleman, and why i was notransomed. i answered that i was already ransomed, and that by the price itmight be seen what value my master set on me, as i had given housand five hundred zoltanis for me; to which Éä replied, "hadstthou been my fathers, i can tell thee, i would not have let himpart with thee for twice as much, for you christians always telllies about yourselves and make yourselves out poor to cheat themoors." "that may be,dy," said i; "but indeed i dealt truthfully withmy master, as i do and mean to do with everybody in the world." "and when dost thou go?" said zoraida. "to-morrow, i think," said i, "for there is a vessel here fromfrance which sails to-morrow, and i think i shall go in her." "would it not be better," said zoraida, "to wait for the arrivalof ships from spain and go with them and not with the french who arenot your friends?" "no," said i; "though if there were intelligence that a vesselwere nowing from spain it is true i might, perhaps, wait for it;however, it is more likely i shall depart to-morrow, for the longing ifeel to return to my country and to those i love is so great that itwill not allow me to wait for another opportunity, however moreconvenient, if it be dyed." "no doubt thou art married in thine own country," said zoraida, "andfor that reason thou art anxious to go and see thy wife." "i am not married," i replied, "but i have given my promise to marryon my arrival there." "and is thedy beautiful to whom thou hast given it?" saidzoraida. "so beautiful," said i, "that, to describe her worthily and tellthee the truth, Éä is very like thee." at this her fatherughed very heartily and said, "by ah,christian, Éä must be very beautiful if Éä is like my daughter,who is the most beautiful woman in all this kingdom: only look ather well and thou wilt see i am telling the truth." zoraidas father as the better linguist helped to interpret mostof these words and phrases, for though Éä spoke the bastardnguage,that, as i have said, is employed there, Éä expressed her meaningmore by signs than by words. while we were still engaged in this conversation, a moor camerunning up, eximing that four turks had leaped over the fence orwall of the garden, and were gathering the fruit though it was not yetripe. the old man was rmed and zoraida too, for the moorsmonly,and, so to speak, instinctively have a dread of the turks, butparticrly of the soldiers, who are so insolent and domineering tothe moors who are under their power that they treat them worse than ifthey were their ves. her father said to zoraida, "daughter,retire into the house and shut thyself in while i go and speak tothese dogs; and thou, christian, pick thy herbs, and go in peace,and ah bring thee safe to thy own country." i bowed, and he went away to look for the turks, leaving me alonewith zoraida, who made as if Éä were about to retire as her fatherbade her; but the moment he was concealed by the trees of thegarden, turning to me with her eyes full of tears Éä said, tameji,cristiano, tameji?" that is to say, "art thou going, christian, artthou going?"
µÚ79Ò³ i made answer, "yes,dy, but not without thee,e what may: beon the watch for me on the next juma, and be not rmed when thouseest us; for most surely we shall go to thend of the christians." this i said in such a way that Éä understood perfectly all thatpassed between us, and throwing her arm round my neck Éä began withfeeble steps to move towards the house; but as fate would have it £¨andit might have been very unfortunate if heaven had not otherwiseordered it£©£¬ just as we were moving on in the manner and position ihave described, with her arm round my neck, her father, as he returnedafter having sent away the turks, saw how we were walking and weperceived that he saw us; but zoraida, ready and quickwitted, tookcare not to remove her arm from my neck, but on the contrary drewcloser to me andid her head on my breast, bending her knees alittle and showing all the signs and tokens of ainting, while i at thesame time made it seem as though i were supporting her against mywill. her father came running up to where we were, and seeing hisdaughter in this state asked what was the matter with her; Éä,however, giving no answer, he said, "no doubt Éä has fainted in rmat the entrance of those dogs," and taking her from mine he drew herto his own breast, while Éä sighing, her eyes still wet with tears,said again, "ameji, cristiano, ameji"- "go, christian, go." to thiÉär father replied, "there is no need, daughter, for the christianto go, for he has done thee no harm, and the turks have now gone; feelno rm, there is nothing to hurt thee, for as i say, the turks at myrequest have gone back the way they came." "it was they who terrified her, as thou hast said, senor," said i toher father; "but since Éä tells me to go, i have no wish to displeaseher: peace be with thee, and with thy leave i wille back to thisgarden for herbs if need be, for my master says there are nowherebetter herbs for sd then here." "e back for any thou hast need of," replied hadji morato; "for mydaughter does not speak thus because Éä is displeased with thee orany christian: Éä only meant that the turks should go, not thou; orthat it was time for thee to look for thy herbs." with this i at once took my leave of both; and Éä, looking asthough her heart were breaking, retired with her father. whilepretending to look for herbs i made the round of the garden at myease, and studied carefully all the approaches and outlets, and thefastenings of the house and everything that could be taken advantageof to make our task easy. having done so i went and gave an ount ofall that had taken ce to the renegade and myrades, and lookedforward with impatience to the hour when, all fear at an end, i shouldfind myself in possession of the prize which fortune held out to me inthe fair and lovely zoraida. the time passed at length, and theappointed day we so longed for arrived; and, all following out thearrangement and n which, after careful consideration and many along discussion, we had decided upon, we seeded as fully as wecould have wiÉäd; for on the friday following the day upon which ispoke to zoraida in the garden, the renegade anchored his vessel atnightfall almost opposite the spot where Éä was. the christians whowere to row were ready and in hiding in different ces roundabout, all waiting for me, anxious and ted, and eager to attack thevessel they had before their eyes; for they did not know therenegades n, but expected that they were to gain their libertyby force of arms and by killing the moors who were on board thevessel. as soon, then, as i and myrades made our appearance, allthose that were in hiding seeing us came and joined us. it was now thetime when the city gates are shut, and there was no one to be seenin all the space outside. when we were collected together we debatedwhether it would be better first to go for zoraida, or to makeprisoners of the moorish rowers who rowed in the vessel; but whilewe were still uncertain our renegade came up asking us what kept us,as it was now the time, and all the moors were off their guard andmost of them asleep. we told him why we hesitated, but he said itwas of more importance first to secure the vessel, which could be donewith the greatest ease and without any danger, and then we could gofor zoraida. we all approved of what he said, and so without furtherdy, guided by him we made for the vessel, and he leaping on boardfirst, drew his cuss and said in morisco, "let no one stir fromthis if he does not want it to cost him his life." by this almostall the christians were on board, and the moors, who werefainthearted, hearing their captain speak in this way, were cowed, andwithout any one of them taking to his arms £¨and indeed they had few orhardly any£© they submitted without saying a word to be bound by thechristians, who quickly secured them, threatening them that if theyraised any kind of outcry they would be all put to the sword. thishaving been apliÉäd, and half of our party being left to keepguard over them, the rest of us, again taking the renegade as ourguide, hastened towards hadji moratos garden, and as good luckwould have it, on trying the gate it opened as easily as if it had notbeen locked; and so, quite quietly and in silence, we reached thehouse without being perceived by anybody. the lovely zoraida waswatching for us at a window, and as soon as Éä perceived that therewere people there, Éä asked in a low voice if we were "nizarani,"as much as to say or ask if we were christians. i answered that wewere, and begged her toe down. as soon as Éä recognised me Éädid not dy an instant, but without answering a word came downimmediately, opened the door and presented herself before us all, sobeautiful and so richly attired that i cannot attempt to describe her.the moment i saw her i took her hand and kissed it, and the renegadeand my tworades did the same; and the rest, who knew nothing ofthe circumstances, did as they saw us do, for it only seemed as ifwe were returning thanks to her, and recognising her as the giver ofour liberty. the renegade asked her in the morisconguage if herfather was in the house. Éä replied that he was and that he wasasleep. "then it will be necessary to waken him and take him with us,"said the renegade, "and everything of value in this fair mansion." "nay," said Éä, "my father must not on any ount be touched,and there is nothing in the house except what i shall take, and thatwill be quite enough to enrich and satisfy all of you; wait a littleand you shall see," and so saying Éä went in, telling us Éä wouldreturn immediately and bidding us keep quiet making any noise. i asked the renegade what had passed between them, and when hetold me, i dered that nothing should be done except in ordancewith the wiÉäs of zoraida, who now came back with a little trunk sofull of gold crowns that Éä could scarcely carry it. unfortunatelyher father awoke while this was going on, and hearing a noise in thegarden, came to the window, and at once perceiving that all thosewho were there were christians, raising a prodigiously loud outcry, hebegan to call out in arabic, "christians, christians! thieves,thieves!" by which cries we were all thrown into the greatest fear andembarrassment; but the renegade seeing the danger we were in and howimportant it was for him to effect his purpose before we were heard,mounted with the utmost quickness to where hadji morato was, andwith him went some of our party; i, however, did not dare to leavezoraida, who had fallen almost fainting in my arms. to be brief, thosewho had gone upstairs acted so promptly that in an instant they camedown, carrying hadji morato with his hands bound and a napkin tiedover his mouth, which prevented him from uttering a word, warninghim at the same time that to attempt to speak would cost him his life.when his daughter caught sight of him Éä covered her eyes so as notto see him, and her father was horror-stricken, not knowing howwillingly Éä had ced herself in our hands. but it was now mostessential for us to be on the move, and carefully and quickly weregained the vessel, where those who had remained on board werewaiting for us in apprehension of some mishap having befallen us. itwas barely two hours after night set in when we were all on boardthe vessel, where the cords were removed from the hands of zoraidasfather, and the napkin from his mouth; but the renegade once more toldhim not to utter a word, or they would take his life. he, when hesaw his daughter there, began to sigh piteously, and still more whenhe perceived that i held her closely embraced and that Éäy quietwithout resisting orining, or showing any reluctance;nevertheless he remained silent lest they should carry into effect therepeated threats the renegade had addressed to him. finding herself now on board, and that we were about to give waywith the oars, zoraida, seeing her father there, and the other moorsbound, bade the renegade ask me to do her the favour of releasingthe moors and setting her father at liberty, for Éä would ratherdrown herself in the sea than suffer a father that had loved her sodearly to be carried away captive before her eyes and on herount. the renegade repeated this to me, and i replied that i wasvery willing to do so; but he replied that it was not advisable,because if they were left there they would at once raise the countryand stir up the city, and lead to the despatch of swift cruisers inpursuit, and our being taken, by sea ornd, without anypossibility of escape; and that all that could be done was to set themfree on the first christian ground we reached. on this point we agreed; and zoraida, to whom it was exined, together with thereasons that prevented us from doing at once what Éä desired, wassatisfied likewise; and then in d silence and with cheerflacrity each of our stout rowers took his oar, andmendingourselves to god with all our hearts, we began to shape our course forthe ind of majorca, the nearest christiannd. owing, however,to the tramontana rising a little, and the sea growing somewhat rough,it was impossible for us to keep a straight course for majorca, and wewerepelled to coast in the direction of oran, not without greatuneasiness on our part lest we should be observed from the town ofÉärÉäl, which lies on that coast, not more than sixty miles fromalgiers. moreover we were afraid of meeting on that course one ofthe galliots that usuallye with goods from tetuan; although eachof us for himself and all of us together felt confident that, if wewere to meet a mer²ånt galliot, so that it were not a cruiser, notonly should we not be lost, but that we should take a vessel inwhich we could more safely aplish our voyage. as we pursued ourcourse zoraida kept her head between my hands so as not to see herfather, and i felt that Éä was praying to l marien to help us.
µÚ80Ò³ we might have made about thirty miles when daybreak found us somethree musket-shots off thend, which seemed to us deserted, andwithout anyone to see us. for all that, however, by hard rowing we putout a little to sea, for it was now somewhat calmer, and having gainedabout two leagues the word was given to row by batches, while we atesomething, for the vessel was well provided; but the rowers said itwas not a time to take any rest; let food be served out to those whowere not rowing, but they would not leave their oars on any ount.this was done, but now a stiff breeze began to blow, which obligedus to leave off rowing and make sail at once and steer for oran, as itwas impossible to make any other course. all this was done verypromptly, and under sail we ran more than eight miles an hourwithout any fear, except that ofing across some vessel out on aroving expedition. we gave the moorish rowers some food, and therenegadeforted them by telling them that they were not held ascaptives, as we should set them free on the first opportunity. the same was said to zoraidas father, who replied, "anythingelse, christian, i might hope for or think likely from your generosityand good behaviour, but do not think me so simple as to imagine youwill give me my liberty; for you would have never exposed yourselvesto the danger of depriving me of it only to restore it to me sogenerously, especially as you know who i am and the sum you may expectto receive on restoring it; and if you will only name that, i hereoffer you all you require for myself and for my unhappy daughterthere; or else for her alone, for Éä is the greatest and mostprecious part of my soul." as he said this he began to weep so bitterly that he filled us allwithpassion and forced zoraida to look at him, and when Éä sawhim weeping Éä was so moved that Éä rose from my feet and ran tothrow her arms round him, and pressing her face to his, they both gaveway to such an outburst of tears that several of us were constrainedto keep thempany. but when her father saw her in full dress and with all her jewelsabout her, he said to her in his ownnguage, "what means this, mydaughter?st night, before this terrible misfortune in which weare plunged befell us, i saw thee in thy everyday and indoor garments;and now, without having had time to attire thyself, and without mybringing thee any joyful tidings to furnish an asion for adorningand bedecking thyself, i see thee arrayed in the finest attire itwould be in my power to give thee when fortune was most kind to us.answer me this; for it causes me greater anxiety and surprise thaneven this misfortune itself." the renegade interpreted to us what the moor said to his daughter;Éä, however, returned him no answer. but when he observed in onecorner of the vessel the little trunk in which Éä used to keep herjewels, which he well knew he had left in algiers and had notbrought to the garden, he was still more amazed, and asked her howthat trunk hade into our hands, and what there was in it. to whichthe renegade, without waiting for zoraida to reply, made answer, "donot trouble thyself by asking thy daughter zoraida so manyquestions, senor, for the one answer i will give thee will serve forall; i would have thee know that Éä is a christian, and that it isÉä who has been the file for our ²åins and our deliverer fromcaptivity. Éä is here of her own free will, as d, i imagine, tofind herself in this position as he who escapes from darkness into thelight, from death to life, and from suffering to glory." "daughter, is this true, what he says?" cried the moor. "it is," replied zoraida. "that thou art in truth a christian," said the old man, "and thatthou hast given thy father into the power of his enemies?" to which zoraida made answer, "a christian i am, but it is not i whohave ced thee in this position, for it never was my wish to leavethee or do thee harm, but only to do good to myself." "and what good hast thou done thyself, daughter?" said he. "ask thou that," said Éä, "of l marien, for Éä can tell theebetter than i." the moor had hardly heard these words when with marvellous quicknesÉä flung himself headforemost into the sea, where no doubt he wouldhave been drowned had not the long and full dress he wore held himup for a little on the surface of the water. zoraida cried aloud to usto save him, and we all hastened to help, and seizing him by hisrobe we drew him in half drowned and insensible, at which zoraidawas in such distress that Éä wept over him as piteously andbitterly as though he were already dead. we turned him upon his faceand he voided a great quantity of water, and at the end of two hourscame to himself. meanwhile, the wind having ²ånged we werpelled to head for thend, and ply our oars to avoid being drivenon shore; but it was our good fortune to reach a creek that lies onone side of a small promontory or cape, called by the moors that ofthe "cava rumia," which in ournguage means "the wicked christianwoman;" for it is a tradition among them that cava, through whomspain was lost, lies buried at that spot; "cava" in theirnguagemeaning "wicked woman," and "rumia" "christian;" moreover, theycount it unlucky to anchor there when necessitypels them, and theynever do so otherwise. for us, however, it was not the resting-ceof the wicked woman but a haven of safety for our relief, so muchhad the sea now got up. we posted a look-out on shore, and never letthe oars out of our hands, and ate of the stores the renegade hadidin, imploring god and ourdy with all our hearts to help and protectus, that we might give a happy ending to a beginning so prosperous. atthe entreaty of zoraida orders were given to set on shore her fatherand the other moors who were still bound, for Éä could not endure,nor could her tender heart bear to see her father in bonds and herfellow-countrymen prisoners before her eyes. we promised her to dothis at the moment of departure, for as it was uninhabited we ran norisk in releasing them at that ce. our prayers were not so far in vain as to be unheard by heaven,for after a while the wind ²ånged in our favour, and made the seacalm, inviting us once more to resume our voyage with a good heart.seeing this we unbound the moors, and one by one put them on shore, atwhich they were filled with amazement; but when we came tondzoraidas father, who had nowpletely recovered his senses, hesaid: "why is it, think ye, christians, that this wicked woman is rejoicedat your giving me my liberty? think ye it is because of theaffection Éä bears me? nay verily, it is only because of thehindrance my presence offers to the execution of her base designs. andthink not that it is her belief that yours is better than ours thathas led her to ²ånge her religion; it is only because Éä knowsthat immodesty is more freely practised in your country than in ours."then turning to zoraida, while i and another of the christians heldhim fast by both arms, lest he should do some mad act, he said to her,"infamous girl, misguided maiden, whither in thy blindness and madnessart thou going in the hands of these dogs, our natural enemies? cursedbe the hour when i begot thee! cursed the luxury and indulgence inwhich i reared thee!" but seeing that he was not likely soon to cease i made haste toput him on shore, and thence he continued his maledictions anmentations aloud; calling on mohammed to pray to ah to destroyus, to confound us, to make an end of us; and when, in consequenceof having made sail, we could no longer hear what he said we could seewhat he did; how he plucked out his beard and tore his hair andywrithing on the ground. but once he raised his voice to such a pitchthat we were able to hear what he said. "e back, dear daughtere back to shore; i forgive thee all; let those men have themoney, for it is theirs now, ande back tofort thy sorrowingfather, who will yield up his life on this barren strand if thoudost leave him." all this zoraida heard, and heard with sorrow and tears, and all Éäcould say in answer was, "ah grant that l marien, who has mademe be a christian, give theefort in thy sorrow, my father.ah knows that i could not do otherwise than i have done, and thatthese christians owe nothing to my will; for even had i wiÉäd notto apany them, but remain at home, it would have been impossiblefor me, so eagerly did my soul urge me on to the aplishment ofthis purpose, which i feel to be as righteous as to thee, dear father,it seems wicked." but neither could her father hear her nor we see him when Éä saidthis; and so, while i consoled zoraida, we turned our attention to ourvoyage, in which a breeze from the right point so favoured us thatwe made sure of finding ourselves off the coast of spain on the morrowby daybreak. but, as good seldom or neveres pure and unmixed,without being attended or followed by some disturbing evil thatgives a shock to it, our fortune, or perhaps the curses which the moorhad hurled at his daughter £¨for whatever kind of father they mae from these are always to be dreaded£©£¬ brought it about thatwhen we were now in mid-sea, and the night about three hours spent, aswe were running with all sail set and oarsÉäd, for the favouringbreeze saved us the trouble of using them, we saw by the light ofthe moon, which shone brilliantly, a square-rigged vessel in full sailclose to us, luffing up and standing across our course, and so closethat we had to strike sail to avoid running foul of her, while theytoo put the helm hard up to let us pass. they came to the side ofthe ship to ask who we were, whither we were bound, and whence wecame, but as they asked this in french our renegade said, "let noone answer, for no doubt these are french corsairs who plunder alers." acting on this warning no one answered a word, but after wehad gone a little ahead, and the vessel was now lying to leeward,suddenly they fired two guns, and apparently both loaded with²åin-shot, for with one they cut our mast in half and brought downboth it and the sail into the sea, and the other, dis²årged at thesame moment, sent a ball into our vessel amidships, staving her ipletely, but without doing any further damage. we, however, findingourselves sinking began to shout for help and call upon those in theship to pick us up as we were beginning to fill. they theny to, andlowering a skiff or boat, as many as a dozen frenchmen, well armedwith match-locks, and their matches burning, got into it and camealongside; and seeing how few we were, and that our vessel was goingdown, they took us in, telling us that this hade to us through ourincivility in not giving them an answer. our renegade took the trunkcontaining zoraidas wealth and dropped it into the sea without anyoneperceiving what he did. in short we went on board with thefrenchmen, who, after having ascertained all they wanted to know aboutus, rifled us of everything we had, as if they had been ourbitterest enemies, and from zoraida they took even the anklets Éäwore on her feet; but the distress they caused her did not distress meso much as the fear i was in that from robbing her of her rich andprecious jewels they would proceed to rob her of the most preciousjewel that Éä valued more than all. the desires, however, of thosepeople do not go beyond money, but of that their covetousness isinsatiable, and on this asion it was carried to such a pitch thatthey would have taken even the clothes we wore as captives if they hadbeen worth anything to them. it was the advice of some of them tothrow us all into the sea wrapped up in a sail; for their purposewas to trade at some of the ports of spain, giving themselves out asbretons, and if they brought us alive they would be puniÉäd as soonas the robbery was discovered; but the captain £¨who was the one whohad plundered my beloved zoraida£© said he was satisfied with the prizehe had got, and that he would not touch at any spanish port, butpass the straits of gibraltar by night, or as best he could, andmake for rochelle, from which he had sailed. so they agreed bmon consent to give us the skiff belonging to their ship and all werequired for the short voyage that remained to us, and this they didthe next day oning in sight of the spanish coast, with which,and the joy we felt, all our sufferings and miseries were apletely forgotten as if they had never been endured by us, suchis the delight of recovering lost liberty.
µÚ81Ò³ it may have been about mid-day when they ced us in the boat,giving us two kegs of water and some biscuit; and the captain, movedby i know not whatpassion, as the lovely zoraida was about toembark, gave her some forty gold crowns, and would not permit hismen to take from her those same garments which Éä has on now. wegot into the boat, returning them thanks for their kindness to us, andshowing ourselves grateful rather than indignant. they stood out tosea, steering for the straits; we, without looking to anypass savethend we had before us, set ourselves to row with such energythat by sunset we were so near that we might easily, we thoughtnd before the night was far advanced. but as the moon did not showthat night, and the sky was clouded, and as we knew not whereabouts wewere, it did not seem to us a prudent thing to make for the shore,as several of us advised, saying we ought to run ourselves ashore evenif it were on rocks and far from any habitation, for in this way weshould be relieved from the apprehensions we naturally felt of theprowling vessels of the tetuan corsairs, who leave barbary atnightfall and are on the spanish coast by daybreak, where themonly take some prize, and then go home to sleep in their ownhouses. but of the conflicting counsels the one which was adoptedwas that we should approach gradually, andnd where we could ifthe sea were calm enough to permit us. this was done, and a littlebefore midnight we drew near to the foot of a huge and lofty mountain,not so close to the sea but that it left a narrow space on which tnd conveniently. we ran our boat up on the sand, and all sprangout and kissed the ground, and with tears of joyful satisfactionreturned thanks to god our lord for all his iparable goodness tous on our voyage. we took out of the boat the provisions it contained,and drew it up on the shore, and then climbed a long way up themountain, for even there we could not feel easy in our hearts, orpersuade ourselves that it was christian soil that was now under ourfeet. the dawn came, more slowly, i think, than we could have wiÉäd; wpleted the ascent in order to see if from the summit any habitationor any Éäpherds huts could be discovered, but strain our eyes aswe might, neither dwelling, nor human being, nor path nor road couldwe perceive. however, we determined to push on farther, as it couldnot but be that ere long we must see some one who could tell uswhere we were. but what distressed me most was to see zoraida going onfoot over that rough ground; for though i once carried her on myshoulders, Éä was more wearied by my weariness than rested by therest; and so Éä would never again allow me to undergo the exertion,and went on very patiently and cheerfully, while i led her by thehand. we had gone rather less than a quarter of a league when thesound of a little bell fell on our ears, a clear proof that there wereflocks hard by, and looking about carefully to see if any werewithin view, we observed a young Éäpherd tranquilly andunsuspiciously trimming a stick with his knife at the foot of a corktree. we called to him, and he, raising his head, sprang nimbly to hisfeet, for, as we afterwards learned, the first who presentedthemselves to his sight were the renegade and zoraida, and seeing themin moorish dress he imagined that all the moors of barbary were uponhim; and plunging with marvellous swiftness into the thicket infront of him, he began to raise a prodigious outcry, eximing,"the moors- the moors havended! to arms, to arms!" we were allthrown into perplexity by these cries, not knowing what to do; butreflecting that the shouts of the Éäpherd would raise the country andthat the mounted coast-guard woulde at once to see what was thematter, we agreed that the renegade must strip off his turkishgarments and put on a captives jacket or coat which one of ourparty gave him at once, though he himself was reduced to his shirt;and somending ourselves to god, we followed the same road which wesaw the Éäpherd take, expecting every moment that the coast-guardwould be down upon us. nor did our expectation deceive us, for twohours had not passed when,ing out of the brushwood into the openground, we perceived some fifty mounted men swiftly approaching usat a hand-gallop. as soon as we saw them we stood still, waiting forthem; but as they came close and, instead of the moors they were inquest of, saw a set of poor christians, they were taken aback, and oneof them asked if it could be we who were the cause of the Éäpherdhaving raised the call to arms. i said "yes," and as i was about toexin to him what had urred, and whence we came and who wewere, one of the christians of our party recognised the horseman whohad put the question to us, and before i could say anything more heeximed: "thanks be to god, sirs, for bringing us to such good quarters; for,if i do not deceive myself, the ground we stand on is that of velezmga unless, indeed, all my years of captivity have made me unableto recollect that you, senor, who ask who we are, are pedro debustamante, my uncle." the christian captive had hardly uttered these words, when thehorseman threw himself off his horse, and ran to embrace the youngman, crying: "nephew of my soul and life! i recognise thee now; and long have imourned thee as dead, i, and my sister, thy mother, and all thy kinthat are still alive, and whom god has been pleased to preserve thatthey may enjoy the happiness of seeing thee. we knew long since thatthou wert in algiers, and from the appearance of thy garments andthose of all thispany, i conclude that ye have had a miraculousrestoration to liberty." "it is true," replied the young man, "and by-and-by we will tell youall." as soon as the horsemen understood that we were christiancaptives, they dismounted from their horses, and each offered his tocarry us to the city of velez mga, which was a league and a halfdistant. some of them went to bring the boat to the city, we havingtold them where we had left it; others took us up behind them, andzoraida was ced on the horse of the young mans uncle. the wholetown came out to meet us, for they had by this time heard of ourarrival from one who had gone on in advance. they were notastoniÉäd to see liberated captives or captive moors, for people onthat coast are well used to see both one and the other; but theywere astoniÉäd at the beauty of zoraida, which was just thenheightened, as well by the exertion of travelling as by joy at findingherself on christian soil, and relieved of all fear of being lost; forthis had brought such a glow upon her face, that unless my affectionfor her were deceiving me, i would venture to say that there was not amore beautiful creature in the world- at least, that i had ever seen.we went straight to the church to return thanks to god for themercies we had received, and when zoraida entered it Éä said therewere faces there like l mariens. we told her they were her images;and as well as he could the renegade exined to her what they meant,that Éä might adore them as if each of them were the very same lmarien that had spoken to her; and Éä, having great intelligenceand a quick and clear instinct, understood at once all he said toher about them. thence they took us away and distributed us all indifferent houses in the town; but as for the renegade, zoraida, andmyself, the christian who came with us brought us to the house ofhis parents, who had a fair share of the gifts of fortune, and treatedus with as much kindness as they did their own son. we remained six days in velez, at the end of which the renegade,having informed himself of all that was requisite for him to do, setout for the city of granada to restore himself to the sacred bosomof the church through the medium of the holy inquisition. the otherreleased captives took their departures, each the way that seemed bestto him, and zoraida and i were left alone, with nothing more thanthe crowns which the courtesy of the frenchman had bestowed uponzoraida, out of which i bought the beast on which Éä rides; and, ifor the present attending her as her father and squire and not aÉär husband, we are now going to ascertain if my father is living,or if any of my brothers has had better fortune than mine has been;though, as heaven has made me thepanion of zoraida, i think noother lot could be assigned to me, however happy, that i wouldrather have. the patience with which Éä endures the hardships thatpoverty brings with it, and the eagerness Éä shows to be achristian, are such that they fill me with admiration, and bind meto serve her all my life; though the happiness i feel in seeing myselfhers, and her mine, is disturbed and marred by not knowing whether ishall find any corner to Éälter her in my own country, or whethertime and death may not have made such ²ånges in the fortunes andlives of my father and brothers, that i shall hardly find anyone whoknows me, if they are not alive. i have no more of my story to tell you, gentlemen; whether it bean interesting or a curious one let your better judgments decide;all i can say is i would dly have told it to you more briefly;although my fear of wearying you has made me leave out more than onecircumstance. ²åpter xlii which treats of what further took ce in the inn, and of severalother things worth knowing with these words the captive held his peace, and don fernando saidto him, "in truth, captain, the manner in which you have rtedthis remarkable adventure has been such as befitted the novelty andstrangeness of the matter. the whole story is curious and umon,and abounds with incidents that fill the hearers with wonder andastonishment; and so great is the pleasure we have found inlistening to it that we should be d if it were to begin again, eventhough to-morrow were to find us still upied with the same tale."and while he said this cardenio and the rest of them offered to beof service to him in any way thaty in their power, and in words annguage so kindly and sincere that the captain was much gratifiedby their good-will. in particr don fernando offered, if he would goback with him, to get his brother the marquis to be godfather atthe baptism of zoraida, and on his own part to provide him with themeans of making his appearance in his own country with the creditandfort he was entitled to. for all this the captive returnedthanks very courteously, although he would not ept any of theirgenerous offers.
µÚ82Ò³ by this time night closed in, and as it did, there came up to theinn a coach attended by some men on horseback, who demandedamodation; to which thendy replied that there was not ahands breadth of the whole inn unupied. "still, for all that," said one of those who had entered onhorseback, "room must be found for his lordship the judge here." at this name thendy was taken aback, and said, "senor, thefact is i have no beds; but if his lordship the judge carries one withhim, as no doubt he does, let hime in and wee; for myhusband and i will give up our room to amodate his worship." "very good, so be it," said the squire; but in the meantime a manhad got out of the coach whose dress indicated at a nce theoffice and post he held, for the long robe with ruffled sleeves thathe wore showed that he was, as his servant said, a judge of appeal. heled by the hand a young girl in a travelling dress, apparently aboutsixteen years of age, and of such a high-bred air, so beautiful and sograceful, that all were filled with admiration when Éä made herappearance, and but for having seen dorothea, luscinda, and zoraida,who were there in the inn, they would have fancied that a beautylike that of this maidens would have been hard to find. don quixotewas present at the entrance of the judge with the youngdy, and assoon as he saw him he said, "your worship may with confidence enterand take your ease in this castle; for though the amodation bescanty and poor, there are no quarters so cramped or inconvenient thatthey cannot make room for arms and letters; above all if arms andletters have beauty for a guide and leader, as letters representedby your worship have in this fair maiden, to whom not only oughtcastles to throw themselves open and yield themselves up, but rocksshould rend themselves asunder and mountains divide and bow themselvesdown to give her a reception. enter, your worship, i say, into thisparadise, for here you will find stars and suns to apany theheaven your worship brings with you, here you will find arms intheir supreme excellence, and beauty in its highest perfection." the judge was struck with amazement at thenguage of donquixote, whom he scrutinized very carefully, no less astoniÉäd by hisfigure than by his talk; and before he could find words to answerhim he had a fresh surprise, when he saw opposite to him luscinda,dorothea, and zoraida, who, having heard of the new guests and ofthe beauty of the youngdy, hade to see her and wee her; donfernando, cardenio, and the curate, however, greeted him in a moreintelligible and poliÉäd style. in short, the judge made his entrancein a state of bewilderment, as well with what he saw as what he heard,and the fairdies of the inn gave the fair damsel a cordial wee.on the whole he could perceive that all who were there were peopleof quality; but with the figure, countenance, and bearing of donquixote he was at his wits end; and all civilities having beenex²ånged, and the amodation of the inn inquired into, it wassettled, as it had been before settled, that all the women shouldretire to the garret that has been already mentioned, and that the menshould remain outside as if to guard them; the judge, therefore, wasvery well pleased to allow his daughter, for such the damsel was, togo with thedies, which Éä did very willingly; and with part of thehosts narrow bed and half of what the judge had brought with him,they made a morefortable arrangement for the night than they hadexpected. the captive, whose heart had leaped within him the instant he sawthe judge, telling him somehow that this was his brother, asked one ofthe servants who apanied him what his name was, and whether heknew from what part of the country he came. the servant replied thathe was called the licentiate juan perez de viedma, and that he hadheard it said he came from a vige in the mountains of leon. fromthis statement, and what he himself had seen, he felt convinced thatthis was his brother who had adopted letters by his fathers advice;and excited and rejoiced, he called don fernando and cardenio andthe curate aside, and told them how the matter stood, assuring themthat the judge was his brother. the servant had further informed himthat he was now going to the indies with the appointment of judge ofthe supreme court of mexico; and he had learned, likewise, that theyoungdy was his daughter, whose mother had died in giving birthto her, and that he was very rich in consequence of the dowry leftto him with the daughter. he asked their advice as to what means heshould adopt to make himself known, or to ascertain beforehandwhether, when he had made himself known, his brother, seeing him sopoor, would be ashamed of him, or would receive him with a warm heart. "leave it to me to find out that," said the curate; "though there isno reason for supposing, senor captain, that you will not be kindlyreceived, because the worth and wisdom that your brothers bearingshows him to possess do not make it likely that he will provehaughty or insensible, or that he will not know how to estimate theidents of fortune at their proper value." "still," said the captain, "i would not make myself knownabruptly, but in some indirect way." "i have told you already," said the curate, "that i will manage itin a way to satisfy us all." by this time supper was ready, and they all took their seats atthe table, except the captive, and thedies, who supped bythemselves in their own room. in the middle of supper the curate said: "i had arade of your worships name, senor judge, inconstantinople, where i was a captive for several years, and that samrade was one of the stoutest soldiers and captains in the wholespanish infantry; but he had asrge a share of misfortune as hehad of gantry and courage." "and how was the captain called, senor?" asked the judge. "he was called ruy perez de viedma," replied the curate, "and he wasborn in a vige in the mountains of leon; and he mentioned acircumstance connected with his father and his brothers which, hadit not been told me by so truthful a man as he was, i should haveset down as one of those fables the old women tell over the fire inwinter; for he said his father had divided his property among histhree sons and had addressed words of advice to them sounder thanany of catos. but i can say this much, that the choice he made ofgoing to the wars was attended with such sess, that by hisgant conduct and courage, and without any help save his ownmerit, he rose in a few years to be captain of infantry, and to seehimself on the high-road and in position to be given themand ofa corps before long; but fortune was against him, for where he mighthave expected her favour he lost it, and with it his liberty, onthat glorious day when so many recovered theirs, at the battle oflepanto. i lost mine at the goletta, and after a variety of adventureswe found ourselvesrades at constantinople. thence he went toalgiers, where he met with one of the most extraordinary adventuresthat ever befell anyone in the world." here the curate went on to rte briefly his brothers adventurewith zoraida; to all which the judge gave such an attentive hearingthat he never before had been so much of a hearer. the curate,however, only went so far as to describe how the frenchmen plunderedthose who were in the boat, and the poverty and distress in whichhisrade and the fair moor were left, of whom he said he had notbeen able to learn what became of them, or whether they had reachedspain, or been carried to france by the frenchmen. the captain, standing a little to one side, was listening to all thecurate said, and watching every movement of his brother, who, assoon as he perceived the curate had made an end of his story, gave adeep sigh and said with his eyes full of tears, "oh, senor, if youonly knew what news you have given me and how ites home to me,making me show how i feel it with these tears that spring from my eyesin spite of all my worldly wisdom and self-restraint! that bravecaptain that you speak of is my eldest brother, who, being of a bolderand loftier mind than my other brother or myself, chose the honourableand worthy calling of arms, which was one of the three careers ourfather proposed to us, as yourrade mentioned in that fable youthought he was telling you. i followed that of letters, in which godand my own exertions have raised me to the position in which you seeme. my second brother is in peru, so wealthy that with what he hassent to my father and to me he has fully repaid the portion he tookwith him, and has even furniÉäd my fathers hands with the means ofgratifying his natural generosity, while i too have been enabled topursue my studies in a more bing and creditable fashion, and so toattain my present standing. my father is still alive, though dyingwith anxiety to hear of his eldest son, and he prays god unceasinglythat death may not close his eyes until he has looked upon those ofhis son; but with regard to him what surprises me is, that having somuchmon sense as he had, he should have neglected to give anyintelligence about himself, either in his troubles and sufferings,or in his prosperity, for if his father or any of us had known ofhis condition he need not have waited for that miracle of the reedto obtain his ransom; but what now disquiets me is the uncertaintywhether those frenchmen may have restored him to liberty, ormurdered him to hide the robbery. all this will make me continue myjourney, not with the satisfaction in which i began it, but in thedeepest mncholy and sadness. oh dear brother! that i only knewwhere thou art now, and i would hasten to seek thee out and deliverthee from thy sufferings, though it were to cost me sufferingmyself! oh that i could bring news to our old father that thou artalive, even wert thou the deepest dungeon of barbary; for his wealthand my brothers and mine would rescue thee thence! oh beautiful andgenerous zoraida, that i could repay thy good goodness to a brother!that i could be present at the new birth of thy soul, and at thybridal that would give us all such happiness!"
µÚ83Ò³ all this and more the judge uttered with such deep emotion at thenews he had received of his brother that all who heard him shared init, showing their sympathy with his sorrow. the curate, seeing,then, how well he had seeded in carrying out his purpose and thecaptains wiÉäs, had no desire to keep them unhappy any longer, so herose from the table and going into the room where zoraida was hetook her by the hand, luscinda, dorothea, and the judges daughterfollowing her. the captain was waiting to see what the curate woulddo, when thetter, taking him with the other hand, advanced withboth of them to where the judge and the other gentlemen were and said,"let your tears cease to flow, senor judge, and the wish of your heartbe gratified as fully as you could desire, for you have before youyour worthy brother and your good sister-inw. he whom you see hereis the captain viedma, and this is the fair moor who has been so goodto him. the frenchmen i told you of have reduced them to the state ofpoverty you see that you may show the generosity of your kind heart." the captain ran to embrace his brother, who ced both hands on hisbreast so as to have a good look at him, holding him a little wayoff but as soon as he had fully recognised him he sped him in hisarms so closely, Éädding such tears of heartfelt joy, that most ofthose present could not but join in them. the words the brothersex²ånged, the emotion they showed can scarcely be imagined, ifancy, much less put down in writing. they told each other in a fewwords the events of their lives; they showed the true affection ofbrothers in all its strength; then the judge embraced zoraida, puttingall he possessed at her disposal; then he made his daughter embraceher, and the fair christian and the lovely moor drew fresh tearsfrom every eye. and there was don quixote observing all thesestrange proceedings attentively without uttering a word, andattributing the whole to chimeras of knight-errantry. then they agreedthat the captain and zoraida should return with his brother toseville, and send news to his father of his having been deliveredand found, so as to enable him toe and be present at themarriage and baptism of zoraida, for it was impossible for the judgeto put off his journey, as he was informed that in a month from thattime the fleet was to sail from seville for new spain, and to miss thepassage would have been a great inconvenience to him. in short,everybody was well pleased and d at the captives good fortune; andas now almost two-thirds of the night were past, they resolved toretire to rest for the remainder of it. don quixote offered to mountguard over the castle lest they should be attacked by some giant orother malevolent scoundrel, covetous of the great treasure of beautythe castle contained. those who understood him returned him thanks forthis service, and they gave the judge an ount of hisextraordinary humour, with which he was not a little amused. sanchopanza alone was fuming at theteness of the hour for retiring torest; and he of all was the one that made himself mostfortable, aÉä stretched himself on the trappings of his ass, which, as will betold farther on, cost him so dear. thedies, then, having retired to their ²åmber, and the othershaving disposed themselves with as little difort as they could,don quixote sallied out of the inn to act as sentinel of the castle aÉä had promised. it happened, however, that a little before theapproach of dawn a voice so musical and sweet reached the ears ofthedies that it forced them all to listen attentively, butespecially dorothea, who had been awake, and by whose side donara de viedma, for so the judges daughter was called,y sleeping.no one could imagine who it was that sang so sweetly, and the voicewas unapanied by any instrument. at one moment it seemed to themas if the singer were in the courtyard, at another in the stable;and as they were all attention, wondering, cardenio came to the doorand said, "listen, whoever is not asleep, and you will hear amuleteers voice that en²ånts as it ²ånts." "we are listening to it already, senor," said dorothea; on whichcardenio went away; and dorothea, giving all her attention to it, madeout the words of the song to be these: ²åpter xliii wherein is rted the pleasant story of the muleteer, together withother strange things that came to pass in the inn ah me, loves mariner am i on loves deep ocean sailing; i know not where the haven lies, i dare not hope to gain it. one solitary distant star is all i have to guide me, a brighter orb than those of old that palinurus lighted. and vaguely drifting am i borne, i know not where it leads me; i fix my gaze on it alone, of all beside it heedless. but over-cautious prudery, and coyness cold and cruel, when most i need it, these, like clouds, its longed-for light refuse me. bright star, goal of my yearning eyes as thou above me beamest, when thou shalt hide thee from my sight ill know that death is near me. the singer had got so far when it struck dorothea that it was notfair to let ra miss hearing such a sweet voice, so, shaking herfrom side to side, Éä woke her, saying: "forgive me, child, for waking thee, but i do so that thou mayesthave the pleasure of hearing the best voice thou hast ever heard,perhaps, in all thy life." ra awoke quite drowsy, and not understanding at the moment whatdorothea said, asked her what it was; Éä repeated what Éä hadsaid, and ra became attentive at once; but Éä had hardly heard twolines, as the singer continued, when a strange trembling seized her,as if Éä were suffering from a severe attack of quartan ague, andthrowing her arms round dorothea Éä said: "ah, deardy of my soul and life! why did you wake me? thegreatest kindness fortune could do me now would be to close my eyesand ears so as neither to see or hear that unhappy musician." "what art thou talking about, child?" said dorothea. "why, theysay this singer is a muleteer!" "nay, he is the lord of many ces," replied ra, "and that onein my heart which he holds so firmly shall never be taken from him,unless he be willing to surrender it." dorothea was amazed at the ardentnguage of the girl, for itseemed to be far beyond such experience of life as her tender yearsgave any promise of, so Éä said to her: "you speak in such a way that i cannot understand you, senora ra;exin yourself more clearly, and tell me what is this you are sayingabout hearts and ces and this musician whose voice has so movedyou? but do not tell me anything now; i do not want to lose thepleasure i get from listening to the singer by giving my attentionto your transports, for i perceive he is beginning to sing a newstrain and a new air." "let him, in heavens name," returned ra; and not to hear him Éästopped both ears with her hands, at which dorothea was againsurprised; but turning her attention to the song Éä found that it ranin this fashion: sweet hope, my stay, that onward to the goal of thy intent dost make thy way, heedless of hindrance or impediment, have thou no fear if at each step thou findest death is near. no victory, no joy of triumph doth the faint heart know; unblest is he that a bold front to fortune dares not show, but soul and sense in bondage yieldeth up to indolence. if love his wares do dearly sell, his right must be contest; what goldpares with that whereon his stamp he hath imprest? and all men know what costeth little that we rate but low. love resolute knows not the word "impossibility;" and though my suit beset by endless obstacles i see, yet no despair shall hold me bound to earth while heaven is there. here the voice ceased and ras sobs began afresh, all whichexcited dorotheas curiosity to know what could be the cause ofsinging so sweet and weeping so bitter, so Éä again asked her what itwas Éä was going to say before. on this ra, afraid that luscindamight overhear her, winding her arms tightly round dorothea put hermouth so close to her ear that Éä could speak without fear of beingheard by anyone else, and said: "this singer, dear senora, is the son of a gentleman of aragon, lordof two viges, who lives opposite my fathers house at madrid; andthough my father had curtains to the windows of his house in winter,andttice-work in summer, in some way- i know not how- thisgentleman, who was pursuing his studies, saw me, whether in churchor elsewhere, i cannot tell, and, in fact, fell in love with me, andgave me to know it from the windows of his house, with so many signsand tears that i was forced to believe him, and even to love him,without knowing what it was he wanted of me. one of the signs heused to make me was to link one hand in the other, to show me hewiÉäd to marry me; and though i should have been d if that couldbe, being alone and motherless i knew not whom to open my mind to, andso i left it as it was, showing him no favour, except when myfather, and his too, were from home, to raise the curtain or thttice a little and let him see me inly, at which he would showsuch delight that he seemed as if he were going mad. meanwhile thetime for my fathers departure arrived, which he became aware of,but not from me, for i had never been able to tell him of it. hefell sick, of grief i believe, and so the day we were going away icould not see him to take farewell of him, were it only with the eyes.but after we had been two days on the road, on entering the posadaof a vige a days journey from this, i saw him at the inn door inthe dress of a muleteer, and so well disguised, that if i did notcarry his image graven on my heart it would have been impossible forme to recognise him. but i knew him, and i was surprised, and d; hewatched me, unsuspected by my father, from whom he always hideshimself when he crosses my path on the road, or in the posadas wherewe halt; and, as i know what he is, and reflect that for love of me hemakes this journey on foot in all this hardship, i am ready to dieof sorrow; and where he sets foot there i set my eyes. i know not withwhat object he hase; or how he could have got away from hisfather, who loves him beyond measure, having no other heir, andbecause he deserves it, as you will perceive when you see him. andmoreover, i can tell you, all that he sings is out of his own head;for i have heard them say he is a great schr and poet; and what ismore, every time i see him or hear him sing i tremble all over, and amterrified lest my father should recognise him ande to know of ourloves. i have never spoken a word to him in my life; and for all thati love him so that i could not live without him. this, dear senora, isall i have to tell you about the musician whose voice has delightedyou so much; and from it alone you might easily perceive he is nomuleteer, but a lord of hearts and towns, as i told you already."
µÚ84Ò³ "say no more, dona ra," said dorothea at this, at the same timekissing her a thousand times over, "say no more, i tell you, butwait till dayes; when i trust in god to arrange this affair ofyours so that it may have the happy ending such an innocentbeginning deserves." "ah, senora," said dona ra, "what end can be hoped for when hisfather is of such lofty position, and so wealthy, that he wouldthink i was not fit to be even a servant to his son, much less wife?and as to marrying without the knowledge of my father, i would notdo it for all the world. i would not ask anything more than thatthis youth should go back and leave me; perhaps with not seeing him,and the long distance we shall have to travel, the pain i suffer nowmay be easier; though i daresay the remedy i propose will do mevery little good. i dont know how the devil this hase about, orhow this love i have for him got in; i such a young girl, and hesuch a mere boy; for i verily believe we are both of an age, and iam not sixteen yet; for i will be sixteen mi²åelmas day, next, myfather says." dorothea could not helpughing to hear how like a child dona raspoke. "let us go to sleep now, senora," said Éä, "for the littleof the night that i fancy is left to us: god will soon send usdaylight, and we will set all to rights, or it will go hard with me." with this they fell asleep, and deep silence reigned all through theinn. the only persons not asleep were thendys daughter andher servant maritornes, who, knowing the weak point of don quixoteshumour, and that he was outside the inn mounting guard in armour andon horseback, resolved, the pair of them, to y some trick upon him,or at any rate to amuse themselves for a while by listening to hisnonsense. as it so happened there was not a window in the whole innthat looked outwards except a hole in the wall of a straw-loft throughwhich they used to throw out the straw. at this hole the twodemi-damsels posted themselves, and observed don quixote on his horse,leaning on his pike and from time to time sending forth such deepand doleful sighs, that he seemed to pluck up his soul by the rootswith each of them; and they could hear him, too, saying in a soft,tender, loving tone, "oh mydy dulcinea del toboso, perfection ofall beauty, summit and crown of discretion, treasure house of grace,depositary of virtue, and finally, ideal of all that is good,honourable, and delectable in this world! what is thy grace doing now?art thou, per²ånce, mindful of thy enved knight who of his ownfree will hath exposed himself to so great perils, and all to servethee? give me tidings of her, oh luminary of the three faces!perhaps at this moment, envious of hers, thou art regarding her,either as Éä paces to and fro some gallery of her sumptuouspces, or leans over some balcony, meditating how, whilst preservingher purity and greatness, Éä may mitigate the tortures thiswretched heart of mine endures for her sake, what glory shouldrpense my sufferings, what repose my toil, andstly what deathmy life, and what reward my services? and thou, oh sun, that art nowdoubtless harnessing thy steeds in haste to rise betimes andeforth to see mydy; when thou seest her i entreat of thee tosalute her on my behalf: but have a care, when thou shalt see herand salute her, that thou kiss not her face; for i shall be morejealous of thee than thou wert of that light-footed ingrate thatmade thee sweat and run so on the ins of thessaly, or on thebanks of the peneus £¨for i do not exactly recollect where it wasthou didst run on that asion£© in thy jealousy and love." don quixote had got so far in his pathetic speech when thndys daughter began to signal to him, saying, "senor,eover here, please." at these signals and voice don quixote turned his head and saw bythe light of the moon, which then was in its full splendour, that someone was calling to him from the hole in the wall, which seemed tohim to be a window, and what is more, with a gilt grating, as richcastles, such as he believed the inn to be, ought to have; and itimmediately suggested itself to his imagination that, as on the formerasion, the fair damsel, the daughter of thedy of the castle,ovee by love for him, was once more endeavouring to win hisaffections; and with this idea, not to show himself discourteous, orungrateful, he turned rocinantes head and approached the hole, and aÉä perceived the two wenches he said: "i pity you, beauteousdy, that you should have directed yourthoughts of love to a quarter from whence it is impossible that such areturn can be made to you as is due to your great merit and gentlebirth, for which you must not me this unhappy knight-errant whomlove renders incapable of submission to any other than her whom, thefirst moment his eyes beheld her, he made absolute mistress of hissoul. forgive me, nobledy, and retire to your apartment, and donot, by any further deration of your passion,pel me to showmyself more ungrateful; and if, of the love you bear me, you shouldfind that there is anything else in my power wherein i can gratifyyou, provided it be not love itself, demand it of me; for i swear toyou by that sweet absent enemy of mine to grant it this instant,though it be that you require of me a lock of medusas hair, which wasall snakes, or even the very beams of the sun shut up in a vial." "my mistress wants nothing of that sort, sir knight," saidmaritornes at this. "what then, discreet dame, is it that your mistress wants?"replied don quixote. "only one of your fair hands," said maritornes, "to enable her tovent over it the great passion passion which has brought her to thisloophole, so much to the risk of her honour; for if the lord herfather had heard her, the least slice he would cut off her would beher ear." "i should like to see that tried," said don quixote; "but he hadbetter beware of that, if he does not want to meet the most disastrousend that ever father in the world met for havingid hands on thetender limbs of a love-stricken daughter." maritornes felt sure that don quixote would present the hand Éä hadasked, and making up her mind what to do, Éä got down from the holeand went into the stable, where Éä took the halter of sanchopanzas ass, and in all haste returned to the hole, just as donquixote had nted himself standing on rocinantes saddle in order toreach the grated window where he supposed the lovelorn damsel to be;and giving her his hand, he said, "dy, take this hand, or ratherthis scourge of the evil-doers of the earth; take, i say, this handwhich no other hand of woman has ever touched, not even hers who haplete possession of my entire body. i present it to you, not thatyou may kiss it, but that you may observe the contexture of thesinews, the closework of the muscles, the breadth and capacityof the veins, whence you may infer what must be the strength of thearm that has such a hand." "that we shall see presently," said maritornes, and making a runningknot on the halter, Éä passed it over his wrist anding downfrom the hole tied the other end very firmly to the bolt of the doorof the straw-loft. don quixote, feeling the roughness of the rope on his wrist,eximed, "your grace seems to be grating rather than caressing myhand; treat it not so harshly, for it is not to me for theoffence my resolution has given you, nor is it just to wreak allyour vengeance on so small a part; remember that one who loves so wellshould not revenge herself so cruelly." but there was nobody now to listen to these words of donquixotes, for as soon as maritornes had tied him Éä and the othermade off, ready to die withughing, leaving him fastened in such away that it was impossible for him to release himself. he was, as has been said, standing on rocinante, with his arm passedthrough the hole and his wrist tied to the bolt of the door, and inmighty fear and dread of being left hanging by the arm if rocinantewere to stir one side or the other; so he did not dare to make theleast movement, although from the patience and imperturbabledisposition of rocinante, he had good reason to expect that he wouldstand without budging for a whole century. finding himself fast, then,and that thedies had retired, he began to fancy that all this wasdone by en²åntment, as on the former asion when in that samecastle that en²ånted moor of a carrier had bboured him; and hecursed in his heart his own want of sense and judgment in venturing toenter the castle again, after havinge off so badly the first time;it being a settled point with knights-errant that when they have triedan adventure, and have not seeded in it, it is a sign that it isnot reserved for them but for others, and that therefore they need nottry it again. nevertheless he pulled his arm to see if he couldrelease himself, but it had been made so fast that all his effortswere in vain. it is true he pulled it gently lest rocinante shouldmove, but try as he might to seat himself in the saddle, he hadnothing for it but to stand upright or pull his hand off. then itwas he wiÉäd for the sword of amadis, against which no en²åntmentwhatever had any power; then he cursed his ill fortune; then hemagnified the loss the world would sustain by his absence while heremained there en²ånted, for that he believed he was beyond alldoubt; then he once more took to thinking of his beloved dulcineadel toboso; then he called to his worthy squire sancho panza, who,buried in sleep and stretched upon the pack-saddle of his ass, wasoblivious, at that moment, of the mother that bore him; then he calledupon the sages lirgandeo and alquife toe to his aid; then heinvoked his good friend urganda to sour him; and then, atst,morning found him in such a state of desperation and perplexity thathe was bellowing like a bull, for he had no hope that day wouldbring any relief to his suffering, which he believed wouldst forever, inasmuch as he was en²ånted; and of this he was convinced byseeing that rocinante never stirred, much or little, and he feltpersuaded that he and his horse were to remain in this state,without eating or drinking or sleeping, until the malign influenceof the stars was overpast, or until some other more sage en²åntershould disen²ånt him.
µÚ85Ò³ but he was very much deceived in this conclusion, for daylight hadhardly begun to appear when there came up to the inn four men onhorseback, well equipped and outred, with firelocks across theirsaddle-bows. they called out and knocked loudly at the gate of theinn, which was still shut; on seeing which, don quixote, even therewhere he was, did not forget to act as sentinel, and said in a loudand imperious tone, "knights, or squires, or whatever ye be, ye haveno right to knock at the gates of this castle; for it is inenough that they who are within are either asleep, or else are notin the habit of throwing open the fortress until the suns rays arespread over the whole surface of the earth. withdraw to a distance,and wait till it is broad daylight, and then we shall see whether itwill be proper or not to open to you." "what the devil fortress or castle is this," said one, "to make usstand on such ceremony? if you are the innkeeper bid them open tous; we are travellers who only want to feed our horses and go on,for we are in haste." "do you think, gentlemen, that i look like an innkeeper?" said donquixote. "i dont know what you look like," replied the other; "but i knowthat you are talking nonsense when you call this inn a castle." "a castle it is," returned don quixote, "nay, more, one of thebest in this whole province, and it has within it people who havehad the sceptre in the hand and the crown on the head." "it would be better if it were the other way," said the traveller,"the sceptre on the head and the crown in the hand; but if so, maybe there is within somepany of yers, with whom it is amonthing to have those crowns and sceptres you speak of; for in such asmall inn as this, and where such silence is kept, i do not believeany people entitled to crowns and sceptres can have taken up theirquarters." "you know but little of the world," returned don quixote, "since youare ignorant of whatmonly urs in knight-errantry." but therades of the spokesman, growing weary of the dialoguewith don quixote, renewed their knocks with great vehemence, so muchso that the host, and not only he but everybody in the inn, awoke, andhe got up to ask who knocked. it happened at this moment that one ofthe horses of the four who were seeking admittance went to smellrocinante, who mncholy, dejected, and with drooping ears stoodmotionless, supporting his sorely stretched master; and as he was,after all, flesh, though he looked as if he were made of wood, hecould not help giving way and in return smelling the one who hadeto offer him attentions. but he had hardly moved at all when donquixote lost his footing; and slipping off the saddle, he would have to the ground, but for being suspended by the arm, which causedhim such agony that he believed either his wrist would be cut throughor his arm torn off; and he hung so near the ground that he could justtouch it with his feet, which was all the worse for him; for, findinghow little was wanted to enable him to nt his feet firmly, hestruggled and stretched himself as much as he could to gain a footing;just like those undergoing the torture of the strappado, when they arefixed at "touch and no touch," who aggravate their own sufferings bytheir violent efforts to stretch themselves, deceived by the hopewhich makes them fancy that with a very little more they will reachthe ground. ²åpter xliv in which are continued the unheard-of adventures of the inn so loud, in fact, were the shouts of don quixote, that thndlord opening the gate of the inn in all haste, came out in dismay,and ran to see who was uttering such cries, and those who were outsidejoined him. maritornes, who had been by this time roused up by thesame outcry, suspecting what it was, ran to the loft and, withoutanyone seeing her, untied the halter by which don quixote wassuspended, and down he came to the ground in the sight of thendlordand the travellers, who approaching asked him what was the matter withhim that he shouted so. he without replying a word took the rope offhis wrist, and rising to his feet leaped upon rocinante, braced hisbuckler on his arm, put hisnce in rest, and making a considerablecircuit of the in came back at a half-gallop eximing: "whoever shall say that i have been en²ånted with just cause,provided mydy the princess micona grants me permission to doso, i give him the lie, ²ållenge him and defy him to singlebat." the newly arrived travellers were amazed at the words of donquixote; but thendlord removed their surprise by telling them whohe was, and not to mind him as he was out of his senses. they thenasked thendlord if by any ²ånce a youth of about fifteen yearsof age hade to that inn, one dressed like a muleteer, and ofsuch and such an appearance, describing that of dona ras lover.thendlord replied that there were so many people in the inn hehad not noticed the person they were inquiring for; but one of themobserving the coach in which the judge hade, said, "he is hereno doubt, for this is the coach he is following: let one of us stay atthe gate, and the rest go in to look for him; or indeed it would be aswell if one of us went round the inn, lest he should escape over thewall of the yard." "so be it," said another; and while two of themwent in, one remained at the gate and the other made the circuit ofthe inn; observing all which, thendlord was unable to conjecturefor what reason they were taking all these precautions, though heunderstood they were looking for the youth whose description theyhad given him. it was by this time broad daylight; and for that reason, as wes in consequence of the noise don quixote had made, everybody wasawake and up, but particrly dona ra and dorothea; for they hadbeen able to sleep but badly that night, the one from agitation athaving her lover so near her, the other from curiosity to see him. donquixote, when he saw that not one of the four travellers took anynotice of him or replied to his ²ållenge, was furious and ready todie with indignation and wrath; and if he could have found in theordinances of chivalry that it waswful for a knight-errant toundertake or engage in another enterprise, when he had plighted hisword and faith not to involve himself in any until he had made anend of the one to which he was pledged, he would have attacked thewhole of them, and would have made them return an answer in spite ofthemselves. but considering that it would not be him, nor beright, to begin any new emprise until he had establiÉäd micona inher kingdom, he was constrained to hold his peace and wait quietlyto see what would be the upshot of the proceedings of those sametravellers; one of whom found the youth they were seeking lying asleepby the side of a muleteer, without a thought of anyoneing insearch of him, much less finding him. the manid hold of him by the arm, saying, "it bes you wellindeed, senor don luis, to be in the dress you wear, and well thebed in which i find you agrees with the luxury in which your motherreared you." the youth rubbed his sleepy eyes and stared for a while at him whoheld him, but presently recognised him as one of his fathersservants, at which he was so taken aback that for some time he couldnot find or utter a word; while the servant went on to say, "thereis nothing for it now, senor don luis, but to submit quietly andreturn home, unless it is your wish that my lord, your father,should take his departure for the other world, for nothing else can bethe consequence of the grief he is in at your absence." "but how did my father know that i had gone this road and in thisdress?" said don luis. "it was a student to whom you confided your intentions," answeredthe servant, "that disclosed them, touched with pity at the distresÉä saw your father suffer on missing you; he therefore despatched fourof his servants in quest of you, and here we all are at yourservice, better pleased than you can imagine that we shall return sosoon and be able to restore you to those eyes that so yearn for you." "that shall be as i please, or as heaven orders," returned don luis. "what can you please or heaven order," said the other, "except toagree to go back? anything else is impossible." all this conversation between the two was overheard by themuleteer at whose side don luisy, and rising, he went to reportwhat had taken ce to don fernando, cardenio, and the others, whohad by this time dressed themselves; and told them how the man hadaddressed the youth as "don," and what words had passed, and how hewanted him to return to his father, which the youth was unwilling todo. with this, and what they already knew of the rare voice thatheaven had bestowed upon him, they all felt very anxious to knowmore particrly who he was, and even to help him if it was attemptedto employ force against him; so they hastened to where he was stilltalking and arguing with his servant. dorothea at this instant cameout of her room, followed by dona ra all in a tremor; and callingcardenio aside, Éä told him in a few words the story of themusician and dona ra, and he at the same time told her what hadhappened, how his fathers servants hade in search of him; butin telling her so, he did not speak low enough but that dona raheard what he said, at which Éä was so much agitated that had notdorothea hastened to support her Éä would have fallen to theground. cardenio then bade dorothea return to her room, as he wouldendeavour to make the whole matter right, and they did as hedesired. all the four who hade in quest of don luis had noweinto the inn and surrounded him, urging him to return and consolehis father at once and without a moments dy. he replied that hecould not do so on any ount until he had concluded some business inwhich his life, honour, and heart were at stake. the servantspressed him, saying that most certainly they would not returnwithout him, and that they would take him away whether he liked itor not.
µÚ86Ò³ "you shall not do that," replied don luis, "unless you take me dead;though however you take me, it will be without life." by this time most of those in the inn had been attracted by thedispute, but particrly cardenio, don fernando, hispanions,the judge, the curate, the barber, and don quixote; for he nowconsidered there was no necessity for mounting guard over the castleany longer. cardenio being already acquainted with the young mansstory, asked the men who wanted to take him away, what object they hadin seeking to carry off this youth against his will. "our object," said one of the four, "is to save the life of hisfather, who is in danger of losing it through this gentlemansdisappearance." upon this don luis eximed, "there is no need to make my affairspublic here; i am free, and i will return if i please; and if not,none of you shallpel me." "reason willpel your worship," said the man, "and if it has nopower over you, it has power over us, to make us do what we camefor, and what it is our duty to do." "let us hear what the whole affair is about," said the judge atthis; but the man, who knew him as a neighbour of theirs, replied, "doyou not know this gentleman, senor judge? he is the son of yourneighbour, who has run away from his fathers house in a dress sounbing his rank, as your worship may perceive." the judge on this looked at him more carefully and recognised him,and embracing him said, "what folly is this, senor don luis, or whatcan have been the cause that could have induced you toe here inthis way, and in this dress, which so ill bes your condition?" tears came into the eyes of the young man, and he was unable toutter a word in reply to the judge, who told the four servants notto be uneasy, for all would be satisfactorily settled; and then takingdon luis by the hand, he drew him aside and asked the reason of hishavinge there. but while he was questioning him they heard a loud outcry at thegate of the inn, the cause of which was that two of the guests who hadpassed the night there, seeing everybody busy about finding out whatit was the four men wanted, had conceived the idea of going offwithout paying what they owed; but thendlord, who minded his ownaffairs more than other peoples, caught them going out of the gateand demanded his reckoning, abusing them for their dishonesty withsuchnguage that he drove them to reply with their fists, and sothey began toy on him in such a style that the poor man wasforced to cry out, and call for help. thendy and her daughtercould see no one more free to give aid than don quixote, and to himthe daughter said, "sir knight, by the virtue god has given you,help my poor father, for two wicked men are beating him to a mummy." to which don quixote very deliberately and phlegmatically replied,"fair damsel, at the present moment your request is inopportune, for iam debarred from involving myself in any adventure until i havebrought to a happy conclusion one to which my word has pledged me; butthat which i can do for you is what i will now mention: run and tellyour father to stand his ground as well as he can in this battle,and on no ount to allow himself to be vanquiÉäd, while i go andrequest permission of the princess micona to enable me tosour him in his distress; and if Éä grants it, rest assured i willrelieve him from it." "sinner that i am," eximed maritornes, who stood by; "beforeyou have got your permission my master will be in the other world." "give me leave, senora, to obtain the permission i speak of,"returned don quixote; "and if i get it, it will matter very littleif he is in the other world; for i will rescue him thence in spiteof all the same world can do; or at any rate i will give you such arevenge over those who shall have sent him there that you will be morethan moderately satisfied;" and without saying anything more he wentand knelt before dorothea, requesting her highness in knightly anderrant phrase to be pleased to grant him permission to aid and sourthe casten of that castle, who now stood in grievous jeopardy.the princess granted it graciously, and he at once, bracing hisbuckler on his arm and drawing his sword, hastened to the inn-gate,where the two guests were still handling thendlord roughly; butas soon as he reached the spot he stopped short and stood still,though maritornes and thendy asked him why he hesitated tohelp their master and husband. "i hesitate," said don quixote, "because it is notwful for meto draw sword against persons of squirely condition; but call mysquire sancho to me; for this defence and vengeance are his affair andbusiness." thus matters stood at the inn-gate, where there was a very livelyex²ånge of fisticuffs and punches, to the sore damage of thendlordand to the wrath of maritornes, thendy, and her daughter, whowere furious when they saw the pusinimity of don quixote, and thehard treatment their master, husband and father was undergoing. butlet us leave him there; for he will surely find some one to helphim, and if not, let him suffer and hold his tongue who attemptsmore than his strength allows him to do; and let us go back fiftypaces to see what don luis said in reply to the judge whom we leftquestioning him privately as to his reasons foring on foot andso meanly dressed. to which the youth, pressing his hand in a way that showed his heartwas troubled by some great sorrow, and Éädding a flood of tears, madeanswer: "senor, i have no more to tell you than that from the moment when,through heavens will and our being near neighbours, i first sawdona ra, your daughter and mydy, from that instant i made herthe mistress of my will, and if yours, my true lord and father, offersno impediment, this very day Éä shall be my wife. for her ileft my fathers house, and for her i assumed this disguise, to followher whithersoever Éä may go, as the arrow seeks its mark or thesailor the pole-star. Éä knows nothing more of my passion than whatÉä may have learned from having sometimes seen from a distance thatmy eyes were filled with tears. you know already, senor, the wealthand noble birth of my parents, and that i am their sole heir; ifthis be a sufficient inducement for you to venture to make mpletely happy, ept me at once as your son; for if my father,influenced by other objects of his own, should disapprove of thishappiness i have sought for myself, time has more power to alter and²ånge things, than human will." with this the love-smitten youth was silent, while the judge,after hearing him, was astoniÉäd, perplexed, and surprised, as wet the manner and intelligence with which don luis had confessed thesecret of his heart, as at the position in which he found himself, notknowing what course to take in a matter so sudden and unexpected.all the answer, therefore, he gave him was to bid him to make his mindeasy for the present, and arrange with his servants not to take himback that day, so that there might be time to consider what was bestfor all parties. don luis kissed his hands by force, nay, bathedthem with his tears, in a way that would have touched a heart ofmarble, not to say that of the judge, who, as a shrewd man, hadalready perceived how advantageous the marriage would be to hisdaughter; though, were it possible, he would have preferred that itshould be brought about with the consent of the father of don luis,who he knew looked for a title for his son. the guests had by this time made peace with thendlord, for, bypersuasion and don quixotes fair words more than by threats, they hadpaid him what he demanded, and the servants of don luis were waitingfor the end of the conversation with the judge and their mastersdecision, when the devil, who never sleeps, contrived that the barber,from whom don quixote had taken mambrinos helmet, and sancho panzathe trappings of his ass in ex²ånge for those of his own, should atthis instant enter the inn; which said barber, as he led his ass tothe stable, observed sancho panza engaged in repairing something orother belonging to the pack-saddle; and the moment he saw it he knewit, and made bold to attack sancho, eximing, "ho, sir thief, i havecaught you! hand over my basin and my pack-saddle, and all mytrappings that you robbed me of." sancho, finding himself so unexpectedly assailed, and hearing theabuse poured upon him, seized the pack-saddle with one hand, andwith the other gave the barber a cuff that bathed his teeth inblood. the barber, however, was not so ready to relinquish the prizehe had made in the pack-saddle; on the contrary, he raised such anoutcry that everyone in the inn came running to know what the noiseand quarrel meant. "here, in the name of the king and justice!" hecried, "this thief and highwayman wants to kill me for trying torecover my property." "you lie," said sancho, "i am no highwayman; it was in fair war mymaster don quixote won these spoils." don quixote was standing by at the time, highly pleased to see hissquires stoutness, both offensive and defensive, and from that timeforth he reckoned him a man of mettle, and in his heart resolved todub him a knight on the first opportunity that presented itself,feeling sure that the order of chivalry would be fittingly bestowedupon him. in the course of the altercation, among other things the barbersaid, "gentlemen, this pack-saddle is mine as surely as i owe god adeath, and i know it as well as if i had given birth to it, and hereis my ass in the stable who will not let me lie; only try it, and ifit does not fit him like a glove, call me a rascal; and what ismore, the same day i was robbed of this, they robbed me likewise ofa new brass basin, never yet handselled, that would fetch a crownany day."
µÚ87Ò³ at this don quixote could not keep himself from answering; andinterposing between the two, and separating them, he ced thepack-saddle on the ground, to lie there in sight until the truth wasestabliÉäd, and said, "your worships may perceive clearly and inlythe error under which this worthy squire lies when he calls a basinwhich was, is, and shall be the helmet of mambrino which i won fromhim in air war, and made myself master of by legitimate andwfulpossession. with the pack-saddle i do not concern myself; but i maytell you on that head that my squire sancho asked my permission tostrip off the caparison of this vanquiÉäd poltroons steed, andwith it adorn his own; i allowed him, and he took it; and as to itshaving been ²ånged from a caparison into a pack-saddle, i can give noexnation except the usual one, that such transformations willtake ce in adventures of chivalry. to confirm all which, run,sancho my son, and fetch hither the helmet which this good fellowcalls a basin." "egad, master," said sancho, "if we have no other proof of ourcase than what your worship puts forward, mambrinos helmet is just asmuch a basin as this good fellows caparison is a pack-saddle." "do as i bid thee," said don quixote; "it cannot be thateverything in this castle goes by en²åntment." sancho hastened to where the basin was, and brought it back withhim, and when don quixote saw it, he took hold of it and said: "your worships may see with what a face this squire can assertthat this is a basin and not the helmet i told you of; and i swearby the order of chivalry i profess, that this helmet is theidentical one i took from him, without anything added to or taken fromit." "there is no doubt of that," said sancho, "for from the time mymaster won it until now he has only fought one battle in it, when helet loose those unlucky men in ²åins; and if had not been for thisbasin-helmet he would not havee off over well that time, for therewas plenty of stone-throwing in that affair." ²åpter xlv in which the doubtful question of mambrinos helmet and thepack-saddle is finally settled, with other adventures that urred intruth and earnest what do you think now, gentlemen," said the barber, "of what thesegentles say, when they want to make out that this is a helmet?" "and whoever says the contrary," said don quixote, "i will let himknow he lies if he is a knight, and if he is a squire that he liesagain a thousand times." our own barber, who was present at all this, and understood donquixotes humour so thoroughly, took it into his head to back up hisdelusion and carry on the joke for the general amusement; soaddressing the other barber he said: "senor barber, or whatever you are, you must know that i belong toyour profession too, and have had a licence to practise for morethan twenty years, and i know the implements of the barber craft,every one of them, perfectly well; and i was likewise a soldier forsome time in the days of my youth, and i know also what a helmet is,and a morion, and a headpiece with a visor, and other thingspertaining to soldiering, i meant to say to soldiers arms; and i say-saving better opinions and always with submission to sounder judgments-that this piece we have now before us, which this worthy gentlemanhas in his hands, not only is no barbers basin, but is as far frombeing one as white is from ck, and truth from falsehood; i say,moreover, that this, although it is a helmet, is not apletehelmet." "certainly not," said don quixote, "for half of it is wanting,that is to say the beaver." "it is quite true," said the curate, who saw the object of hisfriend the barber; and cardenio, don fernando and hispanionsagreed with him, and even the judge, if his thoughts had not been sofull of don luiss affair, would have helped to carry on the joke; buthe was so taken up with the serious matters he had on his mind that hepaid little or no attention to these facetious proceedings. "god bless me!" eximed their butt the barber at this; "is itpossible that such an honourablepany can say that this is not abasin but a helmet? why, this is a thing that would astonish a wholeuniversity, however wise it might be! that will do; if this basin is ahelmet, why, then the pack-saddle must be a horses caparison, as thisgentleman has said." "to me it looks like a pack-saddle," said don quixote; "but i havealready said that with that question i do not concern myself." "as to whether it be pack-saddle or caparison," said the curate, "itis only for senor don quixote to say; for in these matters of chivalryall these gentlemen and i bow to his authority." "by god, gentlemen," said don quixote, "so many strange thingshave happened to me in this castle on the two asions on which ihave sojourned in it, that i will not venture to assert anythingpositively in reply to any question touching anything it contains; forit is my belief that everything that goes on within it goes byen²åntment. the first time, an en²ånted moor that there is in itgave me sore trouble, nor did sancho fare well among certain followersof his; andst night i was kept hanging by this arm for nearly twohours, without knowing how or why i came by such a mishap. so thatnow, for me toe forward to give an opinion in such a puzzlingmatter, would be to risk a rash decision. as regards the assertionthat this is a basin and not a helmet i have already given ananswer; but as to the question whether this is a pack-saddle or acaparison i will not venture to give a positive opinion, but willleave it to your worships better judgment. perhaps as you are notdubbed knights like myself, the en²åntments of this ce havenothing to do with you, and your faculties are unfettered, and you cansee things in this castle as they really and truly are, and not asthey appear to me." "there can be no question," said don fernando on this, "but thatsenor don quixote has spoken very wisely, and that with us rests thedecision of this matter; and that we may have surer ground to go on, iwill take the votes of the gentlemen in secret, and dere the resultclearly and fully." to those who were in the secret of don quixotes humour all thisafforded great amusement; but to those who knew nothing about it, itseemed the greatest nonsense in the world, in particr to the fourservants of don luis, as well as to don luis himself, and to threeother travellers who had by ²åncee to the inn, and had theappearance of officers of the holy brotherhood, as indeed they were;but the one who above all was at his wits end, was the barberbasin, there before his very eyes, had been turned into mambrinoÉälmet, and whose pack-saddle he had no doubt whatever was about tobe a rich caparison for a horse. allughed to see don fernandogoing from one to another collecting the votes, and whispering to themto give him their private opinion whether the treasure over whichthere had been so much fighting was a pack-saddle or a caparison;but after he had taken the votes of those who knew don quixote, hesaid aloud, "the fact is, my good fellow, that i am tired collectingsuch a number of opinions, for i find that there is not one of whomi ask what i desire to know, who does not tell me that it is absurd tosay that this is the pack-saddle of an ass, and not the caparison of ahorse, nay, of a thoroughbred horse; so you must submit, for, in spiteof you and your ass, this is a caparison and no pack-saddle, and youhave stated and proved your case very badly." "may i never share heaven," said the poor barber, "if yourworships are not all mistaken; and may my soul appear before god asthat appears to me a pack-saddle and not a caparison; but,ws go,-i say no more; and indeed i am not drunk, for i am fasting, exceptit be from sin." the simple talk of the barber did not afford less amusement than theabsurdities of don quixote, who now observed: "there is no more to be done now than for each to take whatbelongs to him, and to whom god has given it, may st. peter add hisblessing." but said one of the four servants, "unless, indeed, this is adeliberate joke, i cannot bring myself to believe that men sointelligent as those present are, or seem to be, can venture todere and assert that this is not a basin, and that not apack-saddle; but as i perceive that they do assert and dere it, ican onlye to the conclusion that there is some mystery in thispersistence in what is so opposed to the evidence of experience andtruth itself; for i swear by"- and here he rapped out a round oath-"all the people in the world will not make me believe that this is nota barbers basin and that a jackasss pack-saddle." "it might easily be a Éä-asss," observed the curate. "it is all the same," said the servant; "that is not the point;but whether it is or is not a pack-saddle, as your worships say." on hearing this one of the newly arrived officers of thebrotherhood, who had been listening to the dispute and controversy,unable to restrain his anger and impatience, eximed, "it is apack-saddle as sure as my father is my father, and whoever has said orwill say anything else must be drunk." "you lie like a rascally clown," returned don quixote; and liftinghis pike, which he had never let out of his hand, he delivered su²å blow at his head that, had not the officer dodged it, it wouldhave stretched him at full length. the pike was shivered in piecesagainst the ground, and the rest of the officers, seeing theirradeassaulted, raised a shout, calling for help for the holybrotherhood. thendlord, who was of the fraternity, ran at once tofetch his staff of office and his sword, and ranged himself on theside of hisrades; the servants of don luis clustered round him,lest he should escape from them in the confusion; the barber, seeingthe house turned upside down, once moreid hold of his pack-saddleand sancho did the same; don quixote drew his sword and ²årged theofficers; don luis cried out to his servants to leave him alone and goand help don quixote, and cardenio and don fernando, who weresupporting him; the curate was shouting at the top of his voice, thndy was screaming, her daughter was wailing, maritornes wasweeping, dorothea was aghast, luscinda terror-stricken, and dona rain a faint. the barber cudgelled sancho, and sancho pommelled thebarber; don luis gave one of his servants, who ventured to catch himby the arm to keep him from escaping, a cuff that bathed his teethin blood; the judge took his part; don fernando had got one of theofficers down and was bbouring him heartily; thendlord raisedhis voice again calling for help for the holy brotherhood; so that thewhole inn was nothing but cries, shouts, shrieks, confusion, terror,dismay, mishaps, sword-cuts, fisticuffs, cudgellings, kicks, andbloodÉäd; and in the midst of all this ²åos,plication, andgeneral entanglement, don quixote took it into his head that he hadbeen plunged into the thick of the discord of agramantes camp; and,in a voice that shook the inn like thunder, he cried out:
µÚ88Ò³ "hold all, let all Éäathe their swords, let all be calm andattend to me as they value their lives!" all paused at his mighty voice, and he went on to say, "did i nottell you, sirs, that this castle was en²ånted, and that a legion orso of devils dwelt in it? in proof whereof i call upon you to beholdwith your own eyes how the discord of agramantes camp hasehither, and been transferred into the midst of us. see how they fight,there for the sword, here for the horse, on that side for the eagle,on this for the helmet; we are all fighting, and all at crosspurposes.e then, you, senor judge, and you, senor curate; letthe one represent king agramante and the other king sobrino, andmake peace among us; for by god almighty it is a sorry business thatso many persons of quality as we are should y one another forsuch trifling cause."the officers, who did not understand don quixotes mode ofspeaking, and found themselves roughly handled by don fernando,cardenio, and theirpanions, were not to be appeased; the barberwas, however, for both his beard and his pack-saddle were the worsefor the struggle; sancho like a good servant obeyed the slightest wordof his master; while the four servants of don luis kept quiet whenthey saw how little they gained by not being so. thendlord aloneinsisted upon it that they must punish the insolence of this madman,who at every turn raised a disturbance in the inn; but at length theuproar was stilled for the present; the pack-saddle remained acaparison till the day of judgment, and the basin a helmet and the inna castle in don quixotes imagination. all having been now pacified and made friends by the persuasion ofthe judge and the curate, the servants of don luis began again to urgehim to return with them at once; and while he was discussing thematter with them, the judge took counsel with don fernando,cardenio, and the curate as to what he ought to do in the case,telling them how it stood, and what don luis had said to him. it wasagreed at length that don fernando should tell the servants of donluis who he was, and that it was his desire that don luis shouldapany him to andalusia, where he would receive from the marquishis brother the wee his quality entitled him to; for, otherwise,it was easy to see from the determination of don luis that he wouldnot return to his father at present, though they tore him to pieces.on learning the rank of don fernando and the resolution of don luisthe four then settled it between themselves that three of themshould return to tell his father how matters stood, and that the othershould remain to wait upon don luis, and not leave him until they cameback for him, or his fathers orders were known. thus by the authorityof agramante and the wisdom of king sobrino all thisplication ofdisputes was arranged; but the enemy of concord and hater of peace,feeling himself slighted and made a fool of, and seeing how littlehe had gained after having involved them all in such an borateentanglement, resolved to try his hand once more by stirring upfresh quarrels and disturbances. it came about in this wise: the officers were pacified on learningthe rank of those with whom they had been engaged, and withdrew fromthe contest, considering that whatever the result might be they werelikely to get the worst of the battle; but one of them, the one whohad been thraÉäd and kicked by don fernando, recollected that amongsome warrants he carried for the arrest of certain delinquents, he hadone against don quixote, whom the holy brotherhood had ordered to bearrested for setting the galley ves free, as sancho had, withvery good reason, apprehended. suspecting how it was, then, hewiÉäd to satisfy himself as to whether don quixotes featurescorresponded; and taking a parchment out of his bosom he lit upon whathe was in search of, and setting himself to read it deliberately,for he was not a quick reader, as he made out each word he fixed hiseyes on don quixote, and went onparing the description in thewarrant with his face, and discovered that beyond all doubt he was theperson described in it. as soon as he had satisfied himself, foldingup the parchment, he took the warrant in his left hand and with hisright seized don quixote by the cor so tightly that he did notallow him to breathe, and shouted aloud, "help for the holybrotherhood! and that you may see i demand it in earnest, read thiswarrant which says this highwayman is to be arrested." the curate took the warrant and saw that what the officer said wastrue, and that it agreed with don quixotes appearance, who, on hispart, when he found himself roughly handled by this rascally clown,worked up to the highest pitch of wrath, and all his joints crackingwith rage, with both hands seized the officer by the throat with allhis might, so that had he not been helped by hisrades he wouldhave yielded up his life ere don quixote released his hold. thndlord, who had perforce to support his brother officers, ran atonce to aid them. thendy, when Éä saw her husband engaged ina fresh quarrel, lifted up her voice afresh, and its note wasimmediately caught up by maritornes and her daughter, calling uponheaven and all present for help; and sancho, seeing what was going on,eximed, "by the lord, it is quite true what my master says aboutthe en²åntments of this castle, for it is impossible to live anhour in peace in it!" don fernando parted the officer and don quixote, and to their mutualcontentment made them rx the grip by which they held, the one thecoat cor, the other the throat of his adversary; for all this,however, the officers did not cease to demand their prisoner andcall on them to help, and deliver him over bound into their power,as was required for the service of the king and of the holybrotherhood, on whose behalf they again demanded aid and assistance toeffect the capture of this robber and footpad of the highways. don quixote smiled when he heard these words, and said verycalmly, "e now, base, ill-born brood; call ye it highway robbery togive freedom to those in bondage, to release the captives, tosour the miserable, to raise up the fallen, to relieve the needy?infamous beings, who by your vile grovelling intellects deserve thatheaven should not make known to you the virtue that lies inknight-errantry, or show you the sin and ignorance in which ye liewhen ye refuse to respect the shadow, not to say the presence, ofany knight-errant!e now; band, not of officers, but of thieves;footpads with the licence of the holy brotherhood; tell me who was theignoramus who signed a warrant of arrest against such a knight as iam? who was he that did not know that knights-errant are independentof all jurisdictions, that theirw is their sword, their ²årtertheir prowess, and their edicts their will? who, i say again, wasthe fool that knows not that there are no letters patent of nobilitythat confer such privileges or exemptions as a knight-errantacquires the day he is dubbed a knight, and devotes himself to thearduous calling of chivalry? what knight-errant ever paid poll-tax,duty, queens pin-money, kings dues, toll or ferry? what tailorever took payment of him for making his clothes? what casten thatreceived him in his castle ever made him pay his shot? what king didnot seat him at his table? what damsel was not enamoured of him anddid not yield herself up wholly to his will and pleasure? and,stly,what knight-errant has there been, is there, or will there ever bein the world, not bold enough to give, single-handed, four hundredcudgellings to four hundred officers of the holy brotherhood if thee in his way?" ²åpter xlvi of the end of the notable adventure of the officers of the holybrotherhood; and of the great ferocity of our worthy knight, donquixote while don quixote was talking in this strain, the curate wasendeavouring to persuade the officers that he was out of his senses,as they might perceive by his deeds and his words, and that theyneed not press the matter any further, for even if they arrested himand carried him off, they would have to release him by-and-by as amadman; to which the holder of the warrant replied that he had nothingto do with inquiring into don quixotes madness, but only to executehis superiors orders, and that once taken they might let him go threehundred times if they liked. "for all that," said the curate, "you must not take him away thistime, nor will he, it is my opinion, let himself be taken away." in short, the curate used such arguments, and don quixote did suchmad things, that the officers would have been more mad than he wasif they had not perceived his want of wits, and so they thought itbest to allow themselves to be pacified, and even to act aspeacemakers between the barber and sancho panza, who still continuedtheir altercation with much bitterness. in the end they, as officersof justice, settled the question by arbitration in such a mannerthat both sides were, if not perfectly contented, at least to someextent satisfied; for they ²ånged the pack-saddles, but not thegirths or head-stalls; and as to mambrinos helmet, the curate,under the rose and without don quixotes knowing it, paid eightreals for the basin, and the barber executed a full receipt andengagement to make no further demand then or thenceforth for evermore,amen. these two disputes, which were the most important and gravest,being settled, it only remained for the servants of don luis toconsent that three of them should return while one was left toapany him whither don fernando desired to take him; and goodluck and better fortune, having already begun to solve difficultiesand remove obstructions in favour of the lovers and warriors of theinn, were pleased to persevere and bring everything to a happyissue; for the servants agreed to do as don luis wiÉäd; which gavedona ra such happiness that no one could have looked into herface just then without seeing the joy of her heart. zoraida, thoughÉä did not fullyprehend all Éä saw, was grave or gay withoutknowing why, as Éä watched and studied the various countenances,but particrly her spaniards, whom Éä followed with her eyes andclung to with her soul. the gift andpensation which the curategave the barber had not escaped thendlords notice, and he demandeddon quixotes reckoning, together with the amount of the damage to hiswine-skins, and the loss of his wine, swearing that neitherrocinante nor sanchos ass should leave the inn until he had been paidto the veryst farthing. the curate settled all amicably, and donfernando paid; though the judge had also very readily offered to paythe score; and all became so peaceful and quiet that the inn no longerreminded one of the discord of agramantes camp, as don quixotesaid, but of the peace and tranquillity of the days of octavianus: forall which it was the universal opinion that their thanks were due tothe great zeal and eloquence of the curate, and to the unexampledgenerosity of don fernando.
µÚ89Ò³ finding himself now clear and quit of all quarrels, his squiresas well as his own, don quixote considered that it would beadvisable to continue the journey he had begun, and bring to a closethat great adventure for which he had been called and chosen; and withthis high resolve he went and knelt before dorothea, who, however,would not allow him to utter a word until he had risen; so to obey herhe rose, and said, "it is amon proverb, fairdy, that diligenceis the mother of good fortune, and experience has often shown inimportant affairs that the earnestness of the negotiator brings thedoubtful case to a sessful termination; but in nothing does thistruth show itself more inly than in war, where quickness andactivity forestall the devices of the enemy, and win the victorybefore the foe has time to defend himself. all this i say, exalted andesteemeddy, because it seems to me that for us to remain any longerin this castle now is useless, and may be injurious to us in a waythat we shall find out some day; for who knows but that your enemy thegiant may have learned by means of secret and diligent spies that i amgoing to destroy him, and if the opportunity be given him he may seizeit to fortify himself in some impregnable castle or stronghold,against which all my efforts and the might of my indefatigable arm mayavail but little? therefore,dy, let us, as i say, forestall hisschemes by our activity, and let us depart at once in quest of fairfortune; for your highness is only kept from enjoying it as fully asyou could desire by my dy in encountering your adversary." don quixote held his peace and said no more, calmly awaiting thereply of the beauteous princess, who, withmanding dignity and in astyle adapted to don quixotes own, replied to him in these words,"i give you thanks, sir knight, for the eagerness you, like a goodknight to whom it is a natural obligation to sour the orphan andthe needy, disy to afford me aid in my sore trouble; and heavengrant that your wiÉäs and mine may be realised, so that you may seethat there are women in this world capable of gratitude; as to mydeparture, let it be forthwith, for i have no will but yours;dispose of me entirely in ordance with your good pleasure; forÉä who has once entrusted to you the defence of her person, andced in your hands the recovery of her dominions, must not thinkof offering opposition to that which your wisdom may ordain." "on, then, in gods name," said don quixote; "for, when adyhumbles herself to me, i will not lose the opportunity of raisingher up and cing her on the throne of her ancestors. let us departat once, for themon saying that in dy there is danger, lendsspurs to my eagerness to take the road; and as neither heaven hascreated nor hell seen any that can daunt or intimidate me, saddlerocinante, sancho, and get ready thy ass and the queens palfrey,and let us take leave of the casten and these gentlemen, and gohence this very instant." sancho, who was standing by all the time, said, shaking his head,"ah! master, master, there is more mischief in the vige than onehears of, begging all good bodies pardon." "what mischief can there be in any vige, or in all the citiesof the world, you booby, that can hurt my reputation?" said donquixote. "if your worship is angry," replied sancho, "i will hold my tongueand leave unsaid what as a good squire i am bound to say, and what agood servant should tell his master." "say what thou wilt," returned don quixote, "provided thy words benot meant to work upon my fears; for thou, if thou fearest, artbehaving like thyself; but i like myself, in not fearing." "it is nothing of the sort, as i am a sinner before god," saidsancho, "but that i take it to be sure and certain that thisdy, whocalls herself queen of the great kingdom of micon, is no more sothan my mother; for, if Éä was what Éä says, Éä would not gorubbing noses with one that is here every instant and behind everydoor." dorothea turned red at sanchos words, for the truth was that herhusband don fernando had now and then, when the others were notlooking, gathered from her lips some of the reward his love hadearned, and sancho seeing this had considered that such freedom wasmore like a courtesan than a queen of a great kingdom; Éä, however,being unable or not caring to answer him, allowed him to proceed,and he continued, "this i say, senor, because, if after we havetravelled roads and highways, and passed bad nights and worse days,one who is now enjoying himself in this inn is to reap the fruit ofourbours, there is no need for me to be in a hurry to saddlerocinante, put the pad on the ass, or get ready the palfrey; for itwill be better for us to stay quiet, and let every jade mind herspinning, and let us go to dinner." good god, what was the indignation of don quixote when he heardthe audacious words of his squire! so great was it, that in a voiceinarticte with rage, with a stammering tongue, and eyes thatÉäd living fire, he eximed, "rascally clown, boorish, insolent,and ignorant, ill-spoken, foul-mouthed, impudent backbiter andnderer! hast thou dared to utter such words in my presence and inthat of these illustriousdies? hast thou dared to harbour suchgross and shameless thoughts in thy muddled imagination? begone frommy presence, thou born monster, storehouse of lies, hoard of untruths,garner of knaveries, inventor of scandals, publiÉär of absurdities,enemy of the respect due to royal personages! begone, show thyselfno more before me under pain of my wrath;" and so saying he knittedhis brows, puffed out his cheeks, gazed around him, and stamped on theground violently with his right foot, showing in every way the ragethat was pent up in his heart; and at his words and furious gesturessancho was so scared and terrified that he would have been d if theearth had opened that instant and swallowed him, and his onlythought was to turn round and make his escape from the angrypresence of his master. but the ready-witted dorothea, who by this time so well understooddon quixotes humour, said, to mollify his wrath, "be not irritated atthe absurdities your good squire has uttered, sir knight of the ruefulcountenance, for perhaps he did not utter them without cause, and fromhis good sense and christian conscience it is not likely that he wouldbear false witness against anyone. we may therefore believe, withoutany hesitation, that since, as you say, sir knight, everything in thiscastle goes and is brought about by means of en²åntment, sancho, isay, may possibly have seen, through this diabolical medium, what hesays he saw so much to the detriment of my modesty." "i swear by god omnipotent," eximed don quixote at this, "yourhighness has hit the point; and that some vile illusion must haveebefore this sinner of a sancho, that made him see what it would havebeen impossible to see by any other means than en²åntments; for iknow well enough, from the poor fellows goodness and harmlessness,that he is incapable of bearing false witness against anybody." "true, no doubt," said don fernando, "for which reason, senor donquixote, you ought to forgive him and restore him to the bosom of yourfavour, sicut erat in principio, before illusions of this sort hadtaken away his senses." don quixote said he was ready to pardon him, and the curate went forsancho, who came in very humbly, and falling on his knees begged forthe hand of his master, who having presented it to him and allowed himto kiss it, gave him his blessing and said, "now, sancho my son,thou wilt be convinced of the truth of what i have many a time toldthee, that everything in this castle is done by means of en²åntment." "so it is, i believe," said sancho, "except the affair of thenket, which came to pass in reality by ordinary means." "believe it not," said don quixote, "for had it been so, i wouldhave avenged thee that instant, or even now; but neither then nornow could i, nor have i seen anyone upon whom to avenge thy wrong." they were all eager to know what the affair of the nket was,and thendlord gave them a minute ount of sanchos flights, atwhich theyughed not a little, and at which sancho would have beenno less out of countenance had not his master once more assured him itwas all en²åntment. for all that his simplicity never reached so higha pitch that he could persuade himself it was not the in and simpletruth, without any deception whatever about it, that he had beennketed by beings of flesh and blood, and not by visionary andimaginary phantoms, as his master believed and protested. the illustriouspany had now been two days in the inn; and asit seemed to them time to depart, they devised a n so that, withoutgiving dorothea and don fernando the trouble of going back with donquixote to his vige under pretence of restoring queen micona,the curate and the barber might carry him away with them as theyproposed, and the curate be able to take his madness in hand athome; and in pursuance of their n they arranged with the owner ofan oxcart who happened to be passing that way to carry him afterthis fashion. they constructed a kind of cage with wooden barsrge enough to hold don quixotefortably; and then don fernandoand hispanions, the servants of don luis, and the officers ofthe brotherhood, together with thendlord, by the directions andadvice of the curate, covered their faces and disguised themselves,some in one way, some in another, so as to appear to don quixote quitedifferent from the persons he had seen in the castle. this done, inprofound silence they entered the room where he was asleep, taking hishis rest after the past frays, and advancing to where he wassleeping tranquilly, not dreaming of anything of the kind happening,they seized him firmly and bound him fast hand and foot, so that, whenhe awoke startled, he was unable to move, and could only marvel andwonder at the strange figures he saw before him; upon which he at oncegave way to the idea which his crazed fancy invariably conjured upbefore him, and took it into his head that all these shapes werephantoms of the en²ånted castle, and that he himself wasunquestionably en²ånted as he could neither move nor help himself;precisely what the curate, the concoctor of the scheme, expected wouldhappen. of all that were there sancho was the only one who was at oncein his senses and in his own proper ²åracter, and he, though he waswithin very little of sharing his masters infirmity, did not failto perceive who all these disguised figures were; but he did notdare to open his lips until he saw what came of this assault andcapture of his master; nor did thetter utter a word, waiting to theupshot of his mishap; which was that bringing in the cage, they shuthim up in it and nailed the bars so firmly that they could not beeasily burst open. they then took him on their shoulders, and asthey passed out of the room an awful voice- as much so as thebarber, not he of the pack-saddle but the other, was able to makeit- was heard to say, "o knight of the rueful countenance, let notthis captivity in which thou art ced afflict thee, for this mustneeds be, for the more speedy aplishment of the adventure in whichthy great heart has engaged thee; the which shall be apliÉäd whenthe raging manchegan lion and the white tobosan dove shall be linkedtogether, having first humbled their haughty necks to the gentleyoke of matrimony. and from this marvellous union shalle forthto the light of the world brave whelps that shall rival the raveningws of their valiant father; and this shalle to pass ere thepursuer of the flying nymph shall in his swift natural course havetwice visited the starry signs. and thou, o most noble and obedientsquire that ever bore sword at side, beard on face, or nose to smellwith, be not dismayed or grieved to see the flower ofknight-errantry carried away thus before thy very eyes; for soon, ifit so please the framer of the universe, thou shalt see thyselfexalted to such a height that thou shalt not know thyself, and thepromises which thy good master has made thee shall not prove false;and i assure thee, on the authority of the sage mentironiana, that thywages shall be paid thee, as thou shalt see in due season. follow thenthe footsteps of the valiant en²ånted knight, for it is expedientthat thou shouldst go to the destination assigned to both of you;and as it is not permitted to me to say more, god be with thee; fori return to that ce i wot of;" and as he brought the prophecy toa close he raised his voice to a high pitch, and then lowered it tosuch a soft tone, that even those who knew it was all a joke werealmost inclined to take what they heard seriously.
µÚ90Ò³ don quixote wasforted by the prophecy he heard, for he at oncprehended its meaning perfectly, and perceived it was promised tohim that he should see himself united in holy andwful matrimonywith his beloved dulcinea del toboso, from whose blessed womb shouldproceed the whelps, his sons, to the eternal glory of man²å; andbeing thoroughly and firmly persuaded of this, he lifted up his voice,and with a deep sigh eximed, "oh thou, whoever thou art, who hastforetold me so much good, i implore of thee that on my part thouentreat that sage en²ånter who takes ²årge of my interests, thathe leave me not to perish in this captivity in which they are nowcarrying me away, ere i see fulfilled promises so joyful andiparable as those which have been now made me; for, let this bue to pass, and i shall glory in the pains of my prison, finfort in these ²åins wherewith they bind me, and regard this bedwhereon they stretch me, not as a hard battle-field, but as a soft andhappy nuptial couch; and touching the constion of sancho panza,my squire, i rely upon his goodness and rectitude that he will notdesert me in good or evil fortune; for if, by his ill luck or mine, itmay not happen to be in my power to give him the ind i havepromised, or any equivalent for it, at least his wages shall not belost; for in my will, which is already made, i have dered the sumthat shall be paid to him, measured, not by his many faithfulservices, but by the means at my disposal." sancho bowed his head very respectfully and kissed both his hands,for, being tied together, he could not kiss one; and then theapparitions lifted the cage upon their shoulders and fixed it upon theox-cart. ²åpter xlvii of the strange manner in which don quixote of man²å wascarried away en²ånted, together with other remarkable incidents when don quixote saw himself caged and hoisted on the cart in thisway, he said, "many grave histories of knights-errant have i read; butnever yet have i read, seen, or heard of their carrying offen²ånted knights-errant in this fashion, or at the slow pace thatthesezy, sluggish animals promise; for they always take them awaythrough the air with marvellous swiftness, enveloped in a dark thickcloud, or on a ²åriot of fire, or it may be on some hippogriff orother beast of the kind; but to carry me off like this on anox-cart! by god, it puzzles me! but perhaps the chivalry anden²åntments of our day take a different course from that of thosein days gone by; and it may be, too, that as i am a new knight inthe world, and the first to revive the already forgotten calling ofknight-adventurers, they may have newly invented other kinds ofen²åntments and other modes of carrying off the en²ånted. whatthinkest thou of the matter, sancho my son?" "i dont know what to think," answered sancho, "not being as wellread as your worship in errant writings; but for all that i venture tosay and swear that these apparitions that are about us are not quitecatholic." "catholic!" said don quixote. "father of me! how can they becatholic when they are all devils that have taken fantastic shapestoe and do this, and bring me to this condition? and if thouwouldst prove it, touch them, and feel them, and thou wilt find theyhave only bodies of air, and no consistency except in appearance." "by god, master," returned sancho, "i have touched them already; andthat devil, that goes about there so busily, has firm flesh, andanother property very different from what i have heard say devilshave, for by all ounts they all smell of brimstone and other badsmells; but this one smells of amber half a league off." sancho waÉäre speaking of don fernando, who, like a gentleman of his rank,was very likely perfumed as sancho said. "marvel not at that, sancho my friend," said don quixote; "for letme tell thee devils are crafty; and even if they do carry odours aboutwith them, they themselves have no smell, because they are spirits;or, if they have any smell, they cannot smell of anything sweet, butof something foul and fetid; and the reason is that as they carry hellwith them wherever they go, and can get no ease whatever from theirtorments, and as a sweet smell is a thing that gives pleasure andenjoyment, it is impossible that they can smell sweet; if, then,this devil thou speakest of seems to thee to smell of amber, eitherthou art deceiving thyself, or he wants to deceive thee by making theefancy he is not a devil." such was the conversation that passed between master and man; anddon fernando and cardenio, apprehensive of sanchos making plete discovery of their scheme, towards which he had alreadygone some way, resolved to hasten their departure, and calling thndlord aside, they directed him to saddle rocinante and put thepack-saddle on sanchos ass, which he did with great crity. inthe meantime the curate had made an arrangement with the officers thatthey should bear thempany as far as his vige, he paying them somuch a day. cardenio hung the buckler on one side of the bow ofrocinantes saddle and the basin on the other, and by signmanded sancho to mount his ass and take rocinantes bridle, andat each side of the cart he ced two officers with their muskets;but before the cart was put in motion, out came thendy and herdaughter and maritornes to bid don quixote farewell, pretending toweep with grief at his misfortune; and to them don quixote said: "weep not, gooddies, for all these mishaps are the lot of thosewho follow the profession i profess; and if these reverses did notbefall me i should not esteem myself a famous knight-errant; forsuch things never happen to knights of little renown and fame, becausenobody in the world thinks about them; to valiant knights they do, forthese are envied for their virtue and valour by many princes and otherknights whopass the destruction of the worthy by base means.nevertheless, virtue is of herself so mighty, that, in spite of allthe magic that zoroaster its first inventor knew, Éä willevictorious out of every trial, and Éäd her light upon the earth asthe sun does upon the heavens. forgive me, fairdies, if, throughinadvertence, i have in aught offended you; for intentionally andwittingly i have never done so to any; and pray to god that he deliverme from this captivity to which some malevolent en²ånter hasconsigned me; and should i find myself released therefrom, the favoursthat ye have bestowed upon me in this castle shall be held in memoryby me, that i may acknowledge, recognise, and requite them as theydeserve." while this was passing between thedies of the castle and donquixote, the curate and the barber bade farewell to don fernando andhispanions, to the captain, his brother, and thedies, now allmade happy, and in particr to dorothea and luscinda. they allembraced one another, and promised to let each other know how thingswent with them, and don fernando directed the curate where to write tohim, to tell him what became of don quixote, assuring him that therewas nothing that could give him more pleasure than to hear of it,and that he too, on his part, would send him word of everything hethought he would like to know, about his marriage, zoraidasbaptism, don luiss affair, and luscindas return to her home. thecurate promised toply with his request carefully, and theyembraced once more, and renewed their promises. thendlord approached the curate and handed him some papers,saying he had discovered them in the lining of the valise in which thenovel of "the ill-advised curiosity" had been found, and that he mighttake them all away with him as their owner had not since returned;for, as he could not read, he did not want them himself. the curatethanked him, and opening them he saw at the beginning of themanuscript the words, "novel of rince and cortadillo," by which heperceived that it was a novel, and as that of "the ill-advisedcuriosity" had been good he concluded this would be so too, as theywere both probably by the same author; so he kept it, intending toread it when he had an opportunity. he then mounted and his friend thebarber did the same, both masked, so as not to be recognised by donquixote, and set out following in the rear of the cart. the order ofmarch was this: first went the cart with the owner leading it; at eachside of it marched the officers of the brotherhood, as has beensaid, with their muskets; then followed sancho panza on his ass,leading rocinante by the bridle; and behind all came the curate andthe barber on their mighty mules, with faces covered, as aforesaid,and a grave and serious air, measuring their pace to suit the slowsteps of the oxen. don quixote was seated in the cage, with hishands tied and his feet stretched out, leaning against the bars assilent and as patient as if he were a stone statue and not a man offlesh. thus slowly and silently they made, it might be, two leagues,until they reached a valley which the carter thought a convenientce for resting and feeding his oxen, and he said so to thecurate, but the barber was of opinion that they ought to push on alittle farther, as at the other side of a hill which appeared close byhe knew there was a valley that had more grass and much better thanthe one where they proposed to halt; and his advice was taken and theycontinued their journey. just at that moment the curate, looking back, sawing on behindthem six or seven mounted men, well found and equipped, who soonovertook them, for they were travelling, not at the sluggish,deliberate pace of oxen, but like men who rode canons mules, and inhaste to take their noontide rest as soon as possible at the inn whichwas in sight not a league off. the quick travellers came up with theslow, and courteous salutations were ex²ånged; and one of the neers, who was, in fact, a canon of toledo and master of the otherswho apanied him, observing the regr order of the procession,the cart, the officers, sancho, rocinante, the curate and thebarber, and above all don quixote caged and confined, could not helpasking what was the meaning of carrying the man in that fashion;though, from the badges of the officers, he already concluded thathe must be some desperate highwayman or other malefactor whosepunishment fell within the jurisdiction of the holy brotherhood. oneof the officers to whom he had put the question, replied, "let thegentleman himself tell you the meaning of his going this way, senor,for we do not know."
µÚ91Ò³ don quixote overheard the conversation and said, "haply,gentlemen, you are versed and learned in matters of errant chivalry?because if you are i will tell you my misfortunes; if not, there is nogood in my giving myself the trouble of rting them;" but here thecurate and the barber, seeing that the travellers were engaged inconversation with don quixote, came forward, in order to answer insuch a way as to save their stratagem from being discovered. the canon, replying to don quixote, said, "in truth, brother, i knowmore about books of chivalry than i do about vilpandos elements oflogic; so if that be all, you may safely tell me what you please." "in gods name, then, senor," replied don quixote; "if that be so, iwould have you know that i am held en²ånted in this cage by theenvy and fraud of wicked en²ånters; for virtue is more persecutedby the wicked than loved by the good. i am a knight-errant, and notone of those whose names fame has never thought of immortalising inher record, but of those who, in defiance and in spite of envy itself,and all the magicians that persia, or brahmans that india, orgymnosophists that ethiopia ever produced, will ce their names inthe temple of immortality, to serve as examples and patterns forages toe, whereby knights-errant may see the footsteps in whichthey must tread if they would attain the summit and crowning pointof honour in arms." "what senor don quixote of man²å says," observed the curate, "isthe truth; for he goes en²ånted in this cart, not from any fault orsins of his, but because of the malevolence of those to whom virtue isodious and valour hateful. this, senor, is the knight of the ruefulcountenance, if you have ever heard him named, whose valiantachievements and mighty deeds shall be written onsting brass andimperishable marble, notwithstanding all the efforts of envy toobscure them and malice to hide them." when the canon heard both the prisoner and the man who was atliberty talk in such a strain he was ready to cross himself in hisastonishment, and could not make out what had befallen him; and allhis attendants were in the same state of amazement. at this point sancho panza, who had drawn near to hear theconversation, said, in order to make everything in, "well, sirs,you may like or dislike what i am going to say, but the fact of thematter is, my master, don quixote, is just as much en²ånted as mymother. he is in his full senses, he eats and he drinks, and he hashis calls like other men and as he had yesterday, before they cagedhim. and if thats the case, what do they mean by wanting me tobelieve that he is en²ånted? for i have heard many a one say thaten²ånted people neither eat, nor sleep, nor talk; and my master, ifyou dont stop him, will talk more than thirtywyers." thenturning to the curate he eximed, "ah, senor curate, senor curate!do you think i dont know you? do you think i dont guess and seethe drift of these new en²åntments? well then, i can tell you iknow you, for all your face is covered, and i can tell you i am upto you, however you may hide your tricks. after all, where envy reignsvirtue cannot live, and where there is niggardliness there can be noliberality. ill betide the devil! if it had not been for yourworship my master would be married to the princess micona thisminute, and i should be a count at least; for no less was to beexpected, as well from the goodness of my master, him of the ruefulcountenance, as from the greatness of my services. but i see now howtrue it is what they say in these parts, that the wheel of forturns faster than a mill-wheel, and that those who were up yesterdayare down to-day. i am sorry for my wife and children, for when theymight fairly and reasonably expect to see their father return tothem a governor or viceroy of some ind or kingdom, they will seehime back a horse-boy. i have said all this, senor curate, only tourge your paternity toy to your conscience your ill-treatment of mymaster; and have a care that god does not call you to ount inanother life for making a prisoner of him in this way, and ²årgeagainst you all the sours and good deeds that my lord don quixoteleaves undone while he is shut up. "trim thosemps there!" eximed the barber at this; "so youare of the same fraternity as your master, too, sancho? by god, ibegin to see that you will have to keep himpany in the cage, andbe en²ånted like him for having caught some of his humour andchivalry. it was an evil hour when you let yourself be got withchild by his promises, and that ind you long so much for foundits way into your head." "i am not with child by anyone," returned sancho, "nor am i a man tolet myself be got with child, if it was by the king himself. thoughi am poor i am an old christian, and i owe nothing to nobody, and if ilong for an ind, other people long for worse. each of us is the sonof his own works; and being a man i maye to be pope, not to saygovernor of an ind, especially as my master may win so many that hewill not know whom to give them to. mind how you talk, masterbarber; for shaving is not everything, and there is some differencebetween peter and peter. i say this because we all know one another,and it will not do to throw false dice with me; and as to theen²åntment of my master, god knows the truth; leave it as it is; itonly makes it worse to stir it." the barber did not care to answer sancho lest by his inspeaking he should disclose what the curate and he himself were tryingso hard to conceal; and under the same apprehension the curate hadasked the canon to ride on a little in advance, so that he mighttell him the mystery of this man in the cage, and other things thatwould amuse him. the canon agreed, and going on ahead with hisservants, listened with attention to the ount of the ²åracter,life, madness, and ways of don quixote, given him by the curate, whodescribed to him briefly the beginning and origin of his craze, andtold him the whole story of his adventures up to his being confined inthe cage, together with the n they had of taking him home to try ifby any means they could discover a cure for his madness. the canon andhis servants were surprised anew when they heard don quixotes strangestory, and when it was finiÉäd he said, "to tell the truth, senorcurate, i for my part consider what they call books of chivalry tobe mischievous to the state; and though, led by idle and falsetaste, i have read the beginnings of almost all that have beenprinted, i never could manage to read any one of them from beginningto end; for it seems to me they are all more or less the same thing;and one has nothing more in it than another; this no more than that.and in my opinion this sort of writing andposition is of thesame species as the fables they call the milesian, nonsensical talesthat aim solely at giving amusement and not instruction, exactly theopposite of the apologue fables which amuse and instruct at the sametime. and though it may be the chief object of such books to amuse,i do not know how they can seed, when they are so full of suchmonstrous nonsense. for the enjoyment the mind feels muste fromthe beauty and harmony which it perceives or contemtes in thethings that the eye or the imagination brings before it; and nothingthat has any ugliness or disproportion about it can give any pleasure.what beauty, then, or what proportion of the parts to the whole, or ofthe whole to the parts, can there be in a book or fable where ad ofsixteen cuts down a giant as tall as a tower and makes two halves ofhim as if he was an almond cake? and when they want to give us apicture of a battle, after having told us that there are a millionofbatants on the side of the enemy, let the hero of the book beopposed to them, and we have perforce to believe, whether we like itor not, that the said knight wins the victory by the single might ofhis strong arm. and then, what shall we say of the facility with whi²å born queen or empress will give herself over into the arms of someunknown wandering knight? what mind, that is not wholly barbarousand uncultured, can find pleasure in reading of how a great tower fullof knights sails away across the sea like a ship with a fair wind, andwill be to-night in lombardy and to-morrow morning in thend ofprester john of the indies, or some other that ptolemy never describednor marco polo saw? and if, in answer to this, i am told that theauthors of books of the kind write them as fiction, and thereforeare not bound to regard niceties of truth, i would reply thatfiction is all the better the more it looks like truth, and givesthe more pleasure the more probability and possibility there isabout it. plots in fiction should be wedded to the understanding ofthe reader, and be constructed in such a way that, reconcilingimpossibilities, smoothing over difficulties, keeping the mind onthe alert, they may surprise, interest, divert, and entertain, so thatwonder and delight joined may keep pace one with the other; allwhich he will fail to effect who shuns verisimilitude and truth tonature, wherein lies the perfection of writing. i have never yetseen any book of chivalry that puts together a connected plotpletein all its numbers, so that the middle agrees with the beginning,and the end with the beginning and middle; on the contrary, theyconstruct them with such a multitude of members that it seems asthough they meant to produce a chimera or monster rather than awell-proportioned figure. and besides all this they are harsh in theirstyle, incredible in their achievements, licentious in their amours,uncouth in their courtly speeches, prolix in their battles, silly intheir arguments, absurd in their travels, and, in short, wanting ineverything like intelligent art; for which reason they deserve to bebaniÉäd from the christianmonwealth as a worthless breed."
µÚ92Ò³ the curate listened to him attentively and felt that he was a man ofsound understanding, and that there was good reason in what he said;so he told him that, being of the same opinion himself, and bearinga grudge to books of chivalry, he had burned all don quixotes,which were many; and gave him an ount of the scrutiny he had madeof them, and of those he had condemned to the mes and those hehad spared, with which the canon was not a little amused, addingthat though he had said so much in condemnation of these books,still he found one good thing in them, and that was the opportunitythey afforded to a gifted intellect for disying itself; for theypresented a wide and spacious field over which the pen might rangefreely, describing shipwrecks, tempests,bats, battles,portraying a valiant captain with all the qualifications requisiteto make one, showing him sagacious in foreseeing the wiles of theenemy, eloquent in speech to encourage or restrain his soldiers,ripe in counsel, rapid in resolve, as bold in biding his time as inpressing the attack; now picturing some sad tragic incident, nowsome joyful and unexpected event; here a beauteousdy, virtuous,wise, and modest; there a christian knight, brave and gentle; here wless, barbarous braggart; there a courteous prince, gant andgracious; setting forth the devotion and loyalty of vassals, thegreatness and generosity of nobles. "or again," said he, "the authormay show himself to be an astronomer, or a skilled cosmographer, ormusician, or one versed in affairs of state, and sometimes he willhave a ²ånce ofing forward as a magician if he likes. he canset forth the craftiness of ulysses, the piety of aeneas, the valourof achilles, the misfortunes of hector, the treachery of sinon, thefriendship of euryalus, the generosity of alexander, the boldness ofcaesar, the clemency and truth of trajan, the fidelity of zopyrus, thewisdom of cato, and in short all the faculties that serve to make anillustrious man perfect, now uniting them in one individual, againdistributing them among many; and if this be done with ²årm ofstyle and ingenious invention, aiming at the truth as much aspossible, he will assuredly weave a web of bright and varied threadsthat, when finiÉäd, will disy such perfection and beauty that itwill attain the worthiest object any writing can seek, which, as isaid before, is to give instruction and pleasurebined; for theunrestricted range of these books enables the author to show hispowers, epic, lyric, tragic, oric, and all the moods the sweet andwinning arts of poesy and oratory are capable of; for the epic maybe written in prose just as well as in verse." ²åpter xlviii in which the canon pursues the subject of the books of chivalry,with other matters worthy of his wit "it is as you say, senor canon," said the curate; "and for thatreason those who have hitherto written books of the sort deserve allthe more censure for writing without paying any attention to goodtaste or the rules of art, by which they might guide themselves andbe as famous in prose as the two princes of greek andtin poetryare in verse." "i myself, at any rate," said the canon, "was once tempted towrite a book of chivalry in which all the points i have mentioned wereto be observed; and if i must own the truth i have more than a hundredÉäets written; and to try if it came up to my own opinion of it, ishowed them to persons who were fond of this kind of reading, tolearned and intelligent men as well as to ignorant people who caredfor nothing but the pleasure of listening to nonsense, and from alli obtained ttering approval; nevertheless i proceeded no fartherwith it, as well because it seemed to me an upation inconsistentwith my profession, as because i perceived that the fools are morenumerous than the wise; and, though it is better to be praised bythe wise few than apuded by the foolish many, i have no mind tosubmit myself to the stupid judgment of the silly public, to whomthe reading of such books falls for the most part. "but what most of all made me hold my hand and even abandon all ideaof finishing it was an argument i put to myself taken from the ysthat are acted now-a-days, which was in this wise: if those that arenow in vogue, as well those that are pure invention as those foundedon history, are, all or most of them, downright nonsense and thingsthat have neither head nor tail, and yet the public listens to themwith delight, and regards and cries them up as perfection when theyare so far from it; and if the authors who write them, and the yerswho act them, say that this is what they must be, for the public wantsthis and will have nothing else; and that those that go by rule andwork out a plot ording to thews of art will only find somehalf-dozen intelligent people to understand them, while all the restremain blind to the merit of theirposition; and that forthemselves it is better to get bread from the many than praise fromthe few; then my book will fare the same way, after i have burnt offmy eyebrows in trying to observe the principles i have spoken of,and i shall be the tailor of the corner. and though i have sometimesendeavoured to convince actors that they are mistaken in this notionthey have adopted, and that they would attract more people, and getmore credit, by producing ys in ordance with the rules of art,than by absurd ones, they are so thoroughly wedded to their ownopinion that no argument or evidence can wean them from it. "i remember saying one day to one of these obstinate fellows,tell me, do you not recollect that a few years ago, there werethree tragedies acted in spain, written by a famous poet of thesekingdoms, which were such that they filled all who heard them withadmiration, delight, and interest, the ignorant as well as the wise,the masses as well as the higher orders, and brought in more moneyto the performers, these three alone, than thirty of the best thathave been since produced? "no doubt, replied the actor in question, you mean the"isabe," the "phyllis," and the "alexandra." "those are the ones i mean, said i; and see if they did notobserve the principles of art, and if, by observing them, theyfailed to show their superiority and please all the world; so that thefault does not lie with the public that insists upon nonsense, butwith those who dont know how to produce something else. "theingratitude revenged" was not nonsense, nor was there any in "thenumantia," nor any to be found in "the mer²ånt lover," nor yet in"the friendly fair foe," nor in some others that have been writtenby certain gifted poets, to their own fame and renown, and to theprofit of those that brought them out; some further remarks i addedto these, with which, i think, i left him rather dumbfoundered, butnot so satisfied or convinced that i could disabuse him of his error." "you have touched upon a subject, senor canon," observed thecurate here, "that has awakened an old enmity i have against the ysin vogue at the present day, quite as strong as that which i bear tothe books of chivalry; for while the drama, ording to tully, shouldbe the mirror of human life, the model of manners, and the image ofthe truth, those which are presented now-a-days are mirrors ofnonsense, models of folly, and images of lewdness. for what greaternonsense can there be in connection with what we are now discussingthan for an infant to appear in swaddling clothes in the first sceneof the first act, and in the second a grown-up bearded man? or whatgreater absurdity can there be than putting before us an old man asa swashbuckler, a young man as a poltroon, ackey using finnguage, a page giving sage advice, a king plying as a porter, aprincess who is a kitchen-maid? and then what shall i say of theirattention to the time in which the action they represent may or cantake ce, save that i have seen a y where the first act beganin europe, the second in asia, the third finiÉäd in africa, and nodoubt, had it been in four acts, the fourth would have ended inamerica, and so it would have beenid in all four quarters of theglobe? and if truth to life is the main thing the drama should keep inview, how is it possible for any average understanding to be satisfiedwhen the action is supposed to pass in the time of king pepin or²årlemagne, and the principal personage in it they represent to bethe emperor heraclius who entered jerusalem with the cross and won theholy sepulchre, like godfrey of bouillon, there being yearsinnumerable between the one and the other? or, if the y is based onfiction and historical facts are introduced, or bits of whaturred to different people and at different times mixed up withit, all, not only without any semnce of probability, but withobvious errors that from every point of view are inexcusable? andthe worst of it is, there are ignorant people who say that this isperfection, and that anything beyond this is affected refinement.and then if we turn to sacred dramas- what miracles they invent inthem! what apocryphal, ill-devised incidents, attributing to one saintthe miracles of another! and even in secr ys they venture tointroduce miracles without any reason or object except that they thinksome such miracle, or transformation as they call it, wille inwell to astonish stupid people and draw them to the y. all thistends to the prejudice of the truth and the corruption of history, naymore, to the reproach of the wits of spain; for foreigners whoscrupulously observe thews of the drama look upon us as barbarousand ignorant, when they see the absurdity and nonsense of the ys weproduce. nor will it be a sufficient excuse to say that the chiefobject well-ordered governments have in view when they permit ys tobe performed in public is to entertain the people with some harmlessamusement asionally, and keep it from those evil humours whichidleness is apt to engender; and that, as this may be attained byany sort of y, good or bad, there is no need toy downws, orbind those who write or act them to make them as they ought to bemade, since, as i say, the object sought for may be secured by anysort. to this i would reply that the same end would be, beyond alparison, better attained by means of good ys than by thosethat are not so; for after listening to an artistic and properlyconstructed y, the hearer wille away enlivened by the jests,instructed by the serious parts, full of admiration at theincidents, his wits sharpened by the arguments, warned by thetricks, all the wiser for the examples, inmed against vice, andin love with virtue; for in all these ways a good y willstimte the mind of the hearer be he ever so boorish or dull; and ofall impossibilities the greatest is that a y endowed with all thesequalities will not entertain, satisfy, and please much more than onewanting in them, like the greater number of those which aremonlyacted now-a-days. nor are the poets who write them to be med forthis; for some there are among them who are perfectly well aware oftheir faults, and know what they ought to do; but as ys have bea sblemodity, they say, and with truth, that the actors willnot buy them unless they are after this fashion; and so the poet triesto adapt himself to the requirements of the actor who is to pay himfor his work. and that this is the truth may be seen by thecountless ys that a most fertile wit of these kingdoms has written,with so much brilliancy, so much grace and gaiety, such poliÉädversification, such choicenguage, such profound reflections, and ina word, so rich in eloquence and elevation of style, that he hasfilled the world with his fame; and yet, in consequence of hisdesire to suit the taste of the actors, they have not all, as someof them have,e as near perfection as they ought. others writeys with such heedlessness that, after they have been acted, theactors have to fly and abscond, afraid of being puniÉäd, as theyoften have been, for having acted something offensive to some kingor other, or insulting to some noble family. all which evils, and manymore that i say nothing of, would be removed if there were someintelligent and sensible person at the capital to examine all ysbefore they were acted, not only those produced in the capital itself,but all that were intended to be acted in spain; without whoseapproval, seal, and signature, no local magistracy should allow anyy to be acted. in that case actors would take care to send theirys to the capital, and could act them in safety, and those whowrite them would be more careful and take more pains with theirwork, standing in awe of having to submit it to the strict examinationof one who understood the matter; and so good ys would beproduced and the objects they aim at happily attained; as well theamusement of the people, as the credit of the wits of spain, theinterest and safety of the actors, and the saving of trouble ininflicting punishment on them. and if the same or some other personwere authorised to examine the newly written books of chivalry, nodoubt some would appear with all the perfections you have described,enriching ournguage with the gracious and precious treasure ofeloquence, and driving the old books into obscurity before the lightof the new ones that woulde out for the harmless entertainment,not merely of the idle but of the very busiest; for the bow cannotbe always bent, nor can weak human nature exist without somewfmusement."
µÚ93Ò³ the canon and the curate had proceeded thus far with theirconversation, when the barber,ing forward, joined them, and saidto the curate, "this is the spot, senor licentiate, that i said wasa good one for fresh and plentiful pasture for the oxen, while we takeour noontide rest." "and so it seems," returned the curate, and he told the canon whathe proposed to do, on which he too made up his mind to halt with them,attracted by the aspect of the fair valley thaty before their eyes;and to enjoy it as well as the conversation of the curate, to whomhe had begun to take a fancy, and also to learn more particrs aboutthe doings of don quixote, he desired some of his servants to go on tothe inn, which was not far distant, and fetch from it what eatablesthere might be for the whole party, as he meant to rest for theafternoon where he was; to which one of his servants replied thatthe sumpter mule, which by this time ought to have reached the inn,carried provisions enough to make it unnecessary to get anythingfrom the inn except barley. "in that case," said the canon, "take all the beasts there, andbring the sumpter mule back." while this was going on, sancho, perceiving that he could speak tohis master without having the curate and the barber, of whom he hadhis suspicions, present all the time, approached the cage in which donquixote was ced, and said, "senor, to ease my conscience i wantto tell you the state of the case as to your en²åntment, and thatis that these two here, with their faces covered, are the curate ofour vige and the barber; and i suspect they have hit upon this nof carrying you off in this fashion, out of pure envy because yourworship surpasses them in doing famous deeds; and if this be the truthit follows that you are not en²ånted, but hoodwinked and made afool of. and to prove this i want to ask you one thing; and if youanswer me as i believe you will answer, you will be able toy yourfinger on the trick, and you will see that you are not en²ånted butgone wrong in your wits." "ask what thou wilt, sancho my son," returned don quixote, "for iwill satisfy thee and answer all thou requirest. as to what thousayest, that these who apany us yonder are the curate and thebarber, our neighbours and acquaintances, it is very possible thatthey may seem to he those same persons; but that they are so inreality and in fact, believe it not on any ount; what thou art tobelieve and think is that, if they look like them, as thou sayest,it must be that those who have en²ånted me have taken this shapeand likeness; for it is easy for en²ånters to take any form theyplease, and they may have taken those of our friends in order tomake thee think as thou dost, and lead thee into abyrinth offancies from which thou wilt find no escape though thou hadst the cordof theseus; and they may also have done it to make me uncertain inmy mind, and unable to conjecture whence this eviles to me; for ifon the one hand thou dost tell me that the barber and curate of ourvige are here inpany with us, and on the other i find myselfshut up in a cage, and know in my heart that no power on earth thatwas not supernatural would have been able to shut me in, whatwouldst thou have me say or think, but that my en²åntment is of asort that transcends all i have ever read of in all the histories thatdeal with knights-errant that have been en²ånted? so thou mayestset thy mind at rest as to the idea that they are what thou sayest,for they are as much so as i am a turk. but touching thy desire to askme something, say on, and i will answer thee, though thou shouldst askquestions from this till to-morrow morning." "may ourdy be good to me!" said sancho, lifting up his voice;"and is it possible that your worship is so thick of skull and soshort of brains that you cannot see that what i say is the simpletruth, and that malice has more to do with your imprisonment andmisfortune than en²åntment? but as it is so, i will prove inlyto you that you are not en²ånted. now tell me, so may god deliver youfrom this affliction, and so may you find yourself when you leastexpect it in the arms of mydy dulcinea-" "leave off conjuring me," said don quixote, "and ask what thouwouldst know; i have already told thee i will answer with all possibleprecision." "that is what i want," said sancho; "and what i would know, and haveyou tell me, without adding or leaving out anything, but telling thewhole truth as one expects it to be told, and as it is told, by allwho profess arms, as your worship professes them, under the title ofknights-errant-" "i tell thee i will not lie in any particr," said don quixote;"finish thy question; for in truth thou weariest me with all theseasseverations, requirements, and precautions, sancho." "well, i rely on the goodness and truth of my master," saidsancho; "and so, because it bears upon what we are talking about, iwould ask, speaking with all reverence, whether since your worship hasbeen shut up and, as you think, en²ånted in this cage, you havefelt any desire or inclination to go anywhere, as the saying is?" "i do not understand going anywhere," said don quixote; "exinthyself more clearly, sancho, if thou wouldst have me give an answerto the point." "is it possible," said sancho, "that your worship does notunderstand going anywhere? why, the schoolboys know that from thetime they were babes. well then, you must know i mean have you had anydesire to do what cannot be avoided?" "ah! now i understand thee, sancho," said don quixote; "yes,often, and even this minute; get me out of this strait, or all willnot go right." ²åpter xlix which treats of the shrewd conversation which sancho panza held withhis master don quixote "aha, i have caught you," said sancho; "this is what in my heart andsoul i was longing to know.e now, senor, can you deny what imonly said around us, when a person is out of humour, i dont knowwhat ails so-and-so, that he neither eats, nor drinks, nor sleeps, norgives a proper answer to any question; one would think he wasen²ånted? from which it is to be gathered that those who do not eat,or drink, or sleep, or do any of the natural acts i am speaking of-that such persons are en²ånted; but not those that have the desireyour worship has, and drink when drink is given them, and eat whenthere is anything to eat, and answer every question that is askedthem." "what thou sayest is true, sancho," replied don quixote; "but i havealready told thee there are many sorts of en²åntments, and it maybe that in the course of time they have been ²ånged one foranother, and that now it may be the way with en²ånted people to doall that i do, though they did not do so before; so it is vain toargue or draw inferences against the usage of the time. i know andfeel that i am en²ånted, and that is enough to ease my conscience;for it would weigh heavily on it if i thought that i was noten²ånted, and that in a aint-hearted and cowardly way i allowedmyself to lie in this cage, defrauding multitudes of the sour imight afford to those in need and distress, who at this very momentmay be in sore want of my aid and protection." "still for all that," replied sancho, "i say that, for yourgreater and fuller satisfaction, it would be well if your worship wereto try to get out of this prison £¨and i promise to do all in mypower to help, and even to take you out of it£©£¬ and see if you couldonce more mount your good rocinante, who seems to be en²ånted too, heis so mncholy and dejected; and then we might try our ²ånce inlooking for adventures again; and if we have no luck there will betime enough to go back to the cage; in which, on the faith of a goodand loyal squire, i promise to shut myself up along with your worship,if so be you are so unfortunate, or i so stupid, as not to be ableto carry out my n." "i am content to do as thou sayest, brother sancho," said donquixote, "and when thou seest an opportunity for effecting myrelease i will obey thee absolutely; but thou wilt see, sancho, howmistaken thou art in thy conception of my misfortune." the knight-errant and the ill-errant squire kept up theirconversation till they reached the ce where the curate, thecanon, and the barber, who had already dismounted, were waiting forthem. the carter at once unyoked the oxen and left them to roam arge about the pleasant green spot, the freshness of which seemedto invite, not en²ånted people like don quixote, but wide-awake,sensible folk like his squire, who begged the curate to allow hismaster to leave the cage for a little; for if they did not let himout, the prison might not be as clean as the propriety of such agentleman as his master required. the curate understood him, andsaid he would very dlyply with his request, only that he fearedhis master, finding himself at liberty, would take to his oldcourses and make off where nobody could ever find him again. "i will answer for his not running away," said sancho. "and i also," said the canon, "especially if he gives me his word asa knight not to leave us without our consent." don quixote, who was listening to all this, said, "i give it;-moreover one who is en²ånted as i am cannot do as he likes withhimself; for he who had en²ånted him could prevent his moving fromone ce for three ages, and if he attempted to escape would bringhim back flying."- and that being so, they might as well releasehim, particrly as it would be to the advantage of all; for, if theydid not let him out, he protested he would be unable to avoidoffending their nostrils unless they kept their distance.
µÚ94Ò³ the canon took his hand, tied together as they both were, and on hisword and promise they unbound him, and rejoiced beyond measure hewas to find himself out of the cage. the first thing he did was tostretch himself all over, and then he went to where rocinante wasstanding and giving him a couple of ps on the haunches said, "istill trust in god and in his blessed mother, o flower and mirror ofsteeds, that we shall soon see ourselves, both of us, as we wish tobe, thou with thy master on thy back, and i mounted upon thee,following the calling for which god sent me into the world." and sosaying, apanied by sancho, he withdrew to a retired spot, fromwhich he came back much relieved and more eager than ever to put hissquires scheme into execution. the canon gazed at him, wondering at the extraordinary nature of hismadness, and that in all his remarks and replies he should show suchexcellent sense, and only lose his stirrups, as has been already said,when the subject of chivalry was broached. and so, moved bpassion, he said to him, as they all sat on the green grassawaiting the arrival of the provisions: "is it possible, gentle sir, that the nauseous and idle reading ofbooks of chivalry can have had such an effect on your worship as toupset your reason so that you fancy yourself en²ånted, and thelike, all as far from the truth as falsehood itself is? how canthere be any human understanding that can persuade itself there everwas all that infinity of amadises in the world, or all thatmultitude of famous knights, all those emperors of trebizond, allthose felixmartes of hircania, all those palfreys, and damsels-errant,and serpents, and monsters, and giants, and marvellous adventures, anden²åntments of every kind, and battles, and prodigious encounters,splendid costumes, love-sick princesses, squires made counts, drolldwarfs, love letters, billings and cooings, swashbuckler women, and,in a word, all that nonsense the books of chivalry contain? formyself, i can only say that when i read them, so long as i do not stopto think that they are all lies and frivolity, they give me acertain amount of pleasure; but when ie to consider what they are,i fling the very best of them at the wall, and would fling it into thefire if there were one at hand, as richly deserving such punishment ascheats and impostors out of the range of ordinary toleration, and asfounders of new sects and modes of life, and teachers that lead theignorant public to believe and ept as truth all the folly theycontain. and such is their audacity, they even dare to unsettle thewits of gentlemen of birth and intelligence, as is shown inly bythe way they have served your worship, when they have brought you tosuch a pass that you have to be shut up in a cage and carried on anox-cart as one would carry a lion or a tiger from ce to ce tomake money by showing it.e, senor don quixote, have sompassion for yourself, return to the bosom ofmon sense, and makeuse of the liberal share of it that heaven has been pleased tobestow upon you, employing your abundant gifts of mind in some otherreading that may serve to benefit your conscience and add to yourhonour. and if, still led away by your natural bent, you desire toread books of achievements and of chivalry, read the book of judges inthe holy scriptures, for there you will find grand reality, anddeeds as true as they are heroic. lusitania had a viriatus, rome acaesar, carthage a hannibal, greece an alexander, castile a countfernan gonzalez, valencia a cid, andalusia a gonzalo fernandez,estremadura a diego garcia de paredes, jerez a garci perez devargas, toledo a garcso, seville a don manuel de leon, to read ofwhose valiant deeds will entertain and instruct the loftiest minds andfill them with delight and wonder. here, senor don quixote, will bereading worthy of your sound understanding; from which you will riselearned in history, in love with virtue, strengthened in goodness,improved in manners, brave without rashness, prudent withoutcowardice; and all to the honour of god, your own advantage and theglory of man²å, whence, i am informed, your worship derives yourbirth." don quixote listened with the greatest attention to the canonswords, and when he found he had finiÉäd, after regarding him for sometime, he replied to him: "it appears to me, gentle sir, that your worships discourse isintended to persuade me that there never were any knights-errant inthe world, and that all the books of chivalry are false, lying,mischievous and useless to the state, and that i have done wrong inreading them, and worse in believing them, and still worse inimitating them, when i undertook to follow the arduous calling ofknight-errantry which they set forth; for you deny that there everwere amadises of gaul or of greece, or any other of the knights ofwhom the books are full." "it is all exactly as you state it," said the canon; to which donquixote returned, "you also went on to say that books of this kind haddone me much harm, inasmuch as they had upset my senses, and shut meup in a cage, and that it would be better for me to reform and²ånge my studies, and read other truer books which would affordmore pleasure and instruction." "just so," said the canon. "well then," returned don quixote, "to my mind it is you who are theone that is out of his wits and en²ånted, as you have ventured toutter such sphemies against a thing so universally acknowledged andepted as true that whoever denies it, as you do, deserves thesame punishment which you say you inflict on the books that irritateyou when you read them. for to try to persuade anybody that amadis,and all the other knights-adventurers with whom the books arefilled, never existed, would be like trying to persuade him that thesun does not yield light, or ice cold, or earth nourishment. whatwit in the world can persuade another that the story of the princessfloripes and guy of burgundy is not true, or that of fierabras and thebridge of mantible, which happened in the time of ²årlemagne? forby all that is good it is as true as that it is daylight now; and ifit be a lie, it must be a lie too that there was a hector, orachilles, or trojan war, or twelve peers of france, or arthur ofennd, who still lives ²ånged into a raven, and is unceasinglylooked for in his kingdom. one might just as well try to make out thatthe history of guarino mezquino, or of the quest of the holy grail, isfalse, or that the loves of tristram and the queen yseult areapocryphal, as well as those of guinevere andncelot, when there arepersons who can almost remember having seen the dame quintanona, whowas the best cupbearer in great britain. and so true is this, that irecollect a grandmother of mine on the fathers side, whenever Éä sawany dame in a venerable hood, used to say to me, grandson, that oneis like dame quintanona, from which i conclude that Éä must haveknown her, or at least had managed to see some portrait of her. thenwho can deny that the story of pierres and the fair magalona istrue, when even to this day may be seen in the kings armoury thepin with which the valiant pierres guided the wooden horse he rodethrough the air, and it is a trifle bigger than the pole of a cart?and alongside of the pin is babiecas saddle, and at roncesvallesthere is rnds horn, asrge as arge beam; whence we mayinfer that there were twelve peers, and a pierres, and a cid, andother knights like them, of the sort peoplemonly call adventurers.or perhaps i shall be told, too, that there was no suchknight-errant as the valiant lusitanian juan de merlo, who went toburgundy and in the city of arras fought with the famous lord of²årny, mosen pierres by name, and afterwards in the city of baslewith mosen enrique de remesten,ing out of both encounterscovered with fame and honour; or adventures and ²ållenges achievedand delivered, also in burgundy, by the valiant spaniards pedrobarba and gutierre quixada £¨of whose family ie in the directmale line£©£¬ when they vanquiÉäd the sons of the count of san polo.i shall be told, too, that don fernando de guevara did not go in questof adventures to germany, where he engaged inbat with micergeorge, a knight of the house of the duke of austria. i shall betold that the jousts of suero de quinones, him of the paso, andthe emprise of mosen luis de falces against the castilian knight,don gonzalo de guzman, were mere mockeries; as well as many otherachievements of christian knights of these and foreign realms, whi²åre so authentic and true, that, i repeat, he who denies them mustbe totally wanting in reason and good sense." the canon was amazed to hear the medley of truth and fiction donquixote uttered, and to see how well acquainted he was with everythingrting or belonging to the achievements of his knight-errantry; sohe said in reply: "i cannot deny, senor don quixote, that there is some truth inwhat you say, especially as regards the spanish knights-errant; andi am willing to grant too that the twelve peers of france existed, buti am not disposed to believe that they did all the things that thearchbishop turpin rtes of them. for the truth of the matter is theywere knights chosen by the kings of france, and called peers becausethey were all equal in worth, rank and prowess £¨at least if theywere not they ought to have been£©£¬ and it was a kind of religiousorder like those of santiago and ctrava in the present day, inwhich it is assumed that those who take it are valiant knights ofdistinction and good birth; and just as we say now a knight of st.john, or of alcantara, they used to say then a knight of the twelvepeers, because twelve equals were chosen for that military order. thatthere was a cid, as well as a bernardo del carpio, there can be nodoubt; but that they did the deeds people say they did, i hold to bevery doubtful. in that other matter of the pin of count pierres thatyou speak of, and say is near babiecas saddle in the armoury, iconfess my sin; for i am either so stupid or so short-sighted, that,though i have seen the saddle, i have never been able to see thepin, in spite of it being as big as your worship says it is."
µÚ95Ò³ "for all that it is there, without any manner of doubt," said donquixote; "and more by token they say it is inclosed in a Éäath ofcowhide to keep it from rusting." "all that may be," replied the canon; "but, by the orders i havereceived, i do not remember seeing it. however, granting it isthere, that is no reason why i am bound to believe the stories ofall those amadises and of all that multitude of knights they tell usabout, nor is it reasonable that a man like your worship, so worthy,and with so many good qualities, and endowed with such a goodunderstanding, should allow himself to be persuaded that such wildcrazy things as are written in those absurd books of chivalry arereally true." ²åpter l of the shrewd controversy which don quixote and the canon held,together with other incidents "a good joke, that!" returned don quixote. "books that have beenprinted with the kings licence, and with the approbation of thoseto whom they have been submitted, and read with universal delight, andextolled by great and small, rich and poor, learned and ignorant,gentle and simple, in a word by people of every sort, of whatever rankor condition they may be- that these should be lies! and above allwhen they carry such an appearance of truth with them; for they tellus the father, mother, country, kindred, age, ce, and theachievements, step by step, and day by day, performed by such a knightor knights! hush, sir; utter not such sphemy; trust me i amadvising you now to act as a sensible man should; only read them,and you will see the pleasure you will derive from them. for,e,tell me, can there be anything more delightful than to see, as itwere, here now disyed before us a vastke of bubbling pitchwith a host of snakes and serpents and lizards, and ferocious andterrible creatures of all sorts swimming about in it, while from themiddle of theke therees a intive voice saying: knight,whosoever thou art who beholdest this dreadke, if thou wouldstwin the prize that lies hidden beneath these dusky waves, prove thevalour of thy stout heart and cast thyself into the midst of itsdark burning waters, else thou shalt not be worthy to see the mightywonders contained in the seven castles of the seven fays that liebeneath this ck expanse; and then the knight, almost ere the awfulvoice has ceased, without stopping to consider, without pausing toreflect upon the danger to which he is exposing himself, withouteven relieving himself of the weight of his massive armour,mendinghimself to god and to hisdy, plunges into the midst of theboilingke, and when he little looks for it, or knows what hisfate is to be, he finds himself among flowery meadows, with whichthe elysian fields are not to bepared. the sky seems moretransparent there, and the sun shines with a strange brilliancy, and adelightful grove of green leafy trees presents itself to the eyesand ²årms the sight with its verdure, while the ear is soothed by thesweet untutored melody of the countless birds of gay plumage that flitto and fro among the intecing branches. here he sees a brookwhose limpid waters, like liquid crystal, ripple over fine sands andwhite pebbles that look like sifted gold and purest pearls. there heperceives a cunningly wrought fountain of many-coloured jasper andpoliÉäd marble; here another of rustic fashion where the littlemussel-Éälls and the spiral white and yellow mansions of the snaildisposed in studious disorder, mingled with fragments of glitteringcrystal and mock emeralds, make up a work of varied aspect, where art,imitating nature, seems to have outdone it. suddenly there ispresented to his sight a strong castle or gorgeous pce with wallsof massy gold, turrets of diamond and gates of jacinth; in short, somarvellous is its structure that though the materials of which it isbuilt are nothing less than diamonds, carbuncles, rubies, pearls,gold, and emeralds, the workmanship is still more rare. and afterhaving seen all this, what can be more ²årming than to see how a bevyof damselses forth from the gate of the castle in gay and gorgeousattire, such that, were i to set myself now to depict it as thehistories describe it to us, i should never have done; and then howÉä who seems to be the first among them all takes the bold knight whoplunged into the boilingke by the hand, and without addressing aword to him leads him into the rich pce or castle, and strips himas naked as when his mother bore him, and bathes him in lukewarmwater, and anoints him all over with sweet-smelling unguents, andclothes him in a shirt of the softest sendal, all scented andperfumed, while another damseles and throws over his shoulders amantle which is said to be worth at the very least a city, and evenmore? how ²årming it is, then, when they tell us how, after all this,they lead him to another ²åmber where he finds the tables set outin such style that he is filled with amazement and wonder; to seehow they pour out water for his hands distilled from amber andsweet-scented flowers; how they seat him on an ivory ²åir; to see howthe damsels wait on him all in profound silence; how they bring himsuch a variety of dainties so temptingly prepared that the appetite isat a loss which to select; to hear the music that resounds while he isat table, by whom or whence produced he knows not. and then when therepast is over and the tables removed, for the knight to recline inthe ²åir, picking his teeth perhaps as usual, and a damsel, muchlovelier than any of the others, to enter unexpectedly by the²åmber door, and herself by his side, and begin to tell him whatthe castle is, and how Éä is held en²ånted there, and other thingsthat amaze the knight and astonish the readers who are perusing hishistory. but i will not expatiate any further upon this, as it maybe gathered from it that whatever part of whatever history of aknight-errant one reads, it will fill the reader, whoever he be,with delight and wonder; and take my advice, sir, and, as i saidbefore, read these books and you will see how they will banish anymncholy you may feel and raise your spirits should they bedepressed. for myself i can say that since i have been a knight-erranti have be valiant, polite, generous, well-bred, magnanimous,courteous, dauntless, gentle, patient, and have learned to bearhardships, imprisonments, and en²åntments; and though it be such ashort time since i have seen myself shut up in a cage like a madman, ihope by the might of my arm, if heaven aid me and fortune thwart menot, to see myself king of some kingdom where i may be able to showthe gratitude and generosity that dwell in my heart; for by myfaith, senor, the poor man is incapacitated from showing the virtue ofgenerosity to anyone, though he may possess it in the highestdegree; and gratitude that consists of disposition only is a deadthing, just as faith without works is dead. for this reason i shouldbe d were fortune soon to offer me some opportunity of makingmyself an emperor, so as to show my heart in doing good to my friends,particrly to this poor sancho panza, my squire, who is the bestfellow in the world; and i would dly give him a county i havepromised him this ever so long, only that i am afraid he has not thecapacity to govern his realm." sancho partly heard thesest words of his master, and said to him,"strive hard you, senor don quixote, to give me that county so oftenpromised by you and so long looked for by me, for i promise youthere will be no want of capacity in me to govern it; and even ifthere is, i have heard say there are men in the world who farmseigniories, paying so much a year, and they themselves taking²årge of the government, while the lord, with his legs stretched out,enjoys the revenue they pay him, without troubling himself aboutanything else. thats what ill do, and not stand haggling overtrifles, but wash my hands at once of the whole business, and enjoy myrents like a duke, and let things go their own way." "that, brother sancho," said the canon, "only holds good as far asthe enjoyment of the revenue goes; but the lord of the seigniorymust attend to the administration of justice, and here capacity andsound judgmente in, and above all a firm determination to find outthe truth; for if this be wanting in the beginning, the middle and theend will always go wrong; and god asmonly aids the honestintentions of the simple as he frustrates the evil designs of thecrafty." "i dont understand those philosophies," returned sancho panza; "alli know is i would i had the county as soon as i shall know how togovern it; for i have as much soul as another, and as much body asanyone, and i shall be as much king of my realm as any other of his;and being so i should do as i liked, and doing as i liked i shouldplease myself, and pleasing myself i should be content, and when oneis content he has nothing more to desire, and when one has nothingmore to desire there is an end of it; so let the countye, andgod he with you, and let us see one another, as one blind man saidto the other." "that is not bad philosophy thou art talking, sancho," said thecanon; "but for all that there is a good deal to be said on thismatter of counties." to which don quixote returned, "i know not what more there is tobe said; i only guide myself by the example set me by the great amadisof gaul, when he made his squire count of the ins firme; and so,without any scruples of conscience, i can make a count of sanchopanza, for he is one of the best squires that ever knight-errant had." the canon was astoniÉäd at the methodical nonsense £¨if nonsensebe capable of method£© that don quixote uttered, at the way in which hehad described the adventure of the knight of theke, at theimpression that the deliberate lies of the books he read had made uponhim, andstly he marvelled at the simplicity of sancho, whodesired so eagerly to obtain the county his master had promised him.
µÚ96Ò³ by this time the canons servants, who had gone to the inn tofetch the sumpter mule, had returned, and making a carpet and thegreen grass of the meadow serve as a table, they seated themselvesin the shade of some trees and made their repast there, that thecarter might not be deprived of the advantage of the spot, as has beenalready said. as they were eating they suddenly heard a loud noise andthe sound of a bell that seemed toe from among some brambles andthick buÉäs that were close by, and the same instant they observeda beautiful goat, spotted all over ck, white, and brown, spring outof the thicket with a goatherd after it, calling to it and utteringthe usual cries to make it stop or turn back to the fold. the fugitivegoat, scared and frightened, ran towards thepany as if seekingtheir protection and then stood still, and the goatherding upseized it by the horns and began to talk to it as if it were possessedof reason and understanding: "ah wanderer, wanderer, spotty, spotty;how have you gone limping all this time? what wolves have frightenedyou, my daughter? wont you tell me what is the matter, my beauty? butwhat else can it be except that you are a Éä, and cannot keepquiet? a gue on your humours and the humours of those you takeafter!e back,e back, my darling; and if you will not be sohappy, at any rate you will be safe in the fold or with youpanions; for if you who ought to keep and lead them, go wanderingastray, what will be of them?" the goatherds talk amused all who heard it, but especially thecanon, who said to him, "as you live, brother, take it easy, and benot in such a hurry to drive this goat back to the fold; for, beinga female, as you say, Éä will follow her natural instinct in spite ofall you can do to prevent it. take this morsel and drink a sup, andthat will soothe your irritation, and in the meantime the goat willrest herself," and so saying, he handed him the loins of a cold rabbiton a fork. the goatherd took it with thanks, and drank and calmed himself,and then said, "i should be sorry if your worships were to take me fora simpleton for having spoken so seriously as i did to this animal;but the truth is there is a certain mystery in the words i used. iam a clown, but not so much of one but that i know how to behave tomen and to beasts." "that i can well believe," said the curate, "for i know already byexperience that the woods breed men of learning, and Éäpherdsharbour philosophers." "at all events, senor," returned the goatherd, "they Éälter menof experience; and that you may see the truth of this and grasp it,though i may seem to put myself forward without being asked, i will,if it will not tire you, gentlemen, and you will give me yourattention for a little, tell you a true story which will confirmthis gentlemans word £¨and he pointed to the curate£© as well as myown." to this don quixote replied, "seeing that this affair has acertain colour of chivalry about it, i for my part, brother, will hearyou most dly, and so will all these gentlemen, from the highintelligence they possess and their love of curious novelties thatinterest, ²årm, and entertain the mind, as i feel quite sure yourstory will do. so begin, friend, for we are all prepared to listen." "i draw my stakes," said sancho, "and will retreat with this pastyto the brook there, where i mean to victual myself for three days; fori have heard my lord, don quixote, say that a knight-errants squireshould eat until he can hold no more, whenever he has the ²ånce,because it often happens them to get by ident into a wood sothick that they cannot find a way out of it for six days; and if theman is not well filled or his alforjas well stored, there he may stay,as very often he does, turned into a dried mummy." "thou art in the right of it, sancho," said don quixote; "go wherethou wilt and eat all thou canst, for i have had enough, and only wantto give my mind its refreshment, as i shall by listening to thisgood fellows story." "it is what we shall all do," said the canon; and then begged thegoatherd to begin the promised tale. the goatherd gave the goat which he held by the horns a couple ofps on the back, saying, "lie down here beside me, spotty, for wehave time enough to return to our fold." the goat seemed to understandhim, for as her master seated himself, Éä stretched herself quietlybeside him and looked up in his face to show him Éä was all attentionto what he was going to say, and then in these words he began hisstory. ²åpter li which deals with what the goatherd told those who were carryingoff don quixote three leagues from this valley there is a vige which, thoughsmall, is one of the richest in all this neighbourhood, and in itthere lived a farmer, a very worthy man, and so much respected that,although to be so is the natural consequence of being rich, he waseven more respected for his virtue than for the wealth he hadacquired. but what made him still more fortunate, as he saidhimself, was having a daughter of such exceeding beauty, rareintelligence, gracefulness, and virtue, that everyone who knew her andbeheld her marvelled at the extraordinary gifts with which heavenand nature had endowed her. as a child Éä was beautiful, Éäcontinued to grow in beauty, and at the age of sixteen Éä was mostlovely. the fame of her beauty began to spread abroad through allthe viges around- but why do i say the viges around, merely,when it spread to distant cities, and even made its way into the hallsof royalty and reached the ears of people of every ss, who camefrom all sides to see her as if to see something rare and curious,or some wonder-working image? her father watched over her and Éä watched over herself; forthere are no locks, or guards, or bolts that can protect a younggirl better than her own modesty. the wealth of the father and thebeauty of the daughter led many neighbours as well as strangers toseek her for a wife; but he, as one might well be who had the disposalof so rich a jewel, was perplexed and unable to make up his mind towhich of her countless suitors he should entrust her. i was oneamong the many who felt a desire so natural, and, as her father knewwho i was, and i was of the same town, of pure blood, in the bloomof life, and very rich in possessions, i had great hopes of sess.there was another of the same ce and qualifications who also soughther, and this made her fathers choice hang in the bnce, for hefelt that on either of us his daughter would be well bestowed; so toescape from this state of perplexity he resolved to refer the matterto leandra £¨for that is the name of the rich damsel who has reduced meto misery£©£¬ reflecting that as we were both equal it would be bestto leave it to his dear daughter to choose ording to herinclination- a course that is worthy of imitation by all fathers whowish to settle their children in life. i do not mean that they oughtto leave them to make a choice of what is contemptible and bad, butthat they should ce before them what is good and then allow them tomake a good choice as they please. i do not know which leandrachose; i only know her father put us both off with the tender age ofhis daughter and vague words that neither bound him nor dismissedus. my rival is called anselmo and i myself eugenio- that you may knowthe names of the personages that figure in this tragedy, the end ofwhich is still in suspense, though it is in to see it must bedisastrous. about this time there arrived in our town one vicente de roca,the son of a poor peasant of the same town, the said vicente havingreturned from service as a soldier in italy and divers other parts.a captain who ²ånced to pass that way with hispany had carriedhim off from our vige when he was a boy of about twelve years,and now twelve yearster the young man came back in a soldiersuniform, arrayed in a thousand colours, and all over ss trinketsand fine steel ²åins. to-day he would appear in one gay dress,to-morrow in another; but all flimsy and gaudy, of little substanceand less worth. the peasant folk, who are naturally malicious, andwhen they have nothing to do can be malice itself, remarked allthis, and took note of his finery and jewellery, piece by piece, anddiscovered that he had three suits of different colours, withgarters and stockings to match; but he made so many arrangements anbinations out of them, that if they had not counted them, anyonewould have sworn that he had made a disy of more than ten suitsof clothes and twenty plumes. do not look upon all this that i amtelling you about the clothes as uncalled for or spun out, for theyhave a great deal to do with the story. he used to seat himself on abench under the great por in our za, and there he would keepus all hanging open-mouthed on the stories he told us of his exploits.there was no country on the face of the globe he had not seen, norbattle he had not been engaged in; he had killed more moors than thereare in moro and tunis, and fought more singlebats, ording tohis own ount, than garcso, diego garcia de paredes and athousand others he named, and out of all he hade victoriouswithout losing a drop of blood. on the other hand he showed marks ofwounds, which, though they could not be made out, he said were gunshotwounds received in divers encounters and actions.stly, withmonstrous impudence he used to say "you" to his equals and eventhose who knew what he was, and dere that his arm was his fatherand his deeds his pedigree, and that being a soldier he was as good asthe king himself. and to add to these swaggering ways he was atrifle of a musician, and yed the guitar with such a flourishthat some said he made it speak; nor did his aplishments end here,for he was something of a poet too, and on every trifle thathappened in the town he made a bad a league long.
µÚ97Ò³ this soldier, then, that i have described, this vicente deroca, this bravo, gant, musician, poet, was often seen andwatched by leandra from a window of her house which looked out onthe za. the glitter of his showy attire took her fancy, his badsbewitched her £¨for he gave away twenty copies of every one he made£©£¬the tales of his exploits which he told about himself came to herears; and in short, as the devil no doubt had arranged it, Éä fell inlove with him before the presumption of making love to her hadsuggested itself to him; and as in love-affairs none are more easilybrought to an issue than those which have the inclination of thdy for an ally, leandra and vicente came to an understanding withoutany difficulty; and before any of her numerous suitors had anysuspicion of her design, Éä had already carried it into effect,having left the house of her dearly beloved father £¨for mother Éä hadnone£©£¬ and disappeared from the vige with the soldier, who camemore triumphantly out of this enterprise than out of any of thrge number heid im to. all the vige and all who heard of itwere amazed at the affair; i was aghast, anselmo thunderstruck, herfather full of grief, her rtions indignant, the authorities allin a ferment, the officers of the brotherhood in arms. they scouredthe roads, they searched the woods and all quarters, and at the end ofthree days they found the flighty leandra in a mountain cave, striptto her shift, and robbed of all the money and precious jewels Éähad carried away from home with her. they brought her back to herunhappy father, and questioned her as to her misfortune, and Éäconfessed without pressure that vicente de roca had deceived her,and under promise of marrying her had induced her to leave herfathers house, as he meant to take her to the richest and mostdelightful city in the whole world, which was naples; and that Éä,ill-advised and deluded, had believed him, and robbed her father,and handed over all to him the night Éä disappeared; and that hehad carried her away to a rugged mountain and shut her up in theeave where they had found her. Éä said, moreover, that the soldier,without robbing her of her honour, had taken from her everything Éähad, and made off, leaving her in the cave, a thing that still furthersurprised everybody. it was not easy for us to credit the youngmans continence, but Éä asserted it with such earnestness that ithelped to console her distressed father, who thought nothing of whathad been taken since the jewel that once lost can never be recoveredhad been left to his daughter. the same day that leandra made herappearance her father removed her from our sight and took her awayto shut her up in a convent in a town near this, in the hope that timemay wear away some of the disgrace Éä has incurred. leandras youthfurniÉäd an excuse for her fault, at least with those to whom itwas of no consequence whether Éä was good or bad; but those whoknew her shrewdness and intelligence did not attribute hermisdemeanour to ignorance but to wantonness and the naturaldisposition of women, which is for the most part flighty andill-regted. leandra withdrawn from sight, anselmos eyes grew blind, or at anyrate found nothing to look at that gave them any pleasure, and minewere in darkness without a ray of light to direct them to anythingenjoyable while leandra was away. our mncholy grew greater, ourpatience grew less; we cursed the soldiers finery and railed at thecarelessness of leandras father. atst anselmo and i agreed toleave the vige ande to this valley; and, he feeding a greatflock of Éäep of his own, and i arge herd of goats of mine, wepass our life among the trees, giving vent to our sorrows, togethersinging the fair leandras praises, or upbraiding her, or else sighingalone, and to heaven pouring forth ourints in solitude.following our example, many more of leandras lovers havee tothese rude mountains and adopted our mode of life, and they are sonumerous that one would fancy the ce had been turned into thepastoral arcadia, so full is it of Éäpherds and Éäep-folds; nor isthere a spot in it where the name of the fair leandra is not heard.here one curses her and calls her capricious, fickle, and immodest,there another condemns her as frail and frivolous; this pardons andabsolves her, that spurns and reviles her; one extols her beauty,another assails her ²åracter, and in short all abuse her, and adore her, and to such a pitch has this general infatuation ghat there are some whoin of her scorn without ever havingex²ånged a word with her, and even some that bewail and mourn theraging fever of jealousy, for which Éä never gave anyone cause,for, as i have already said, her misconduct was known before herpassion. there is no nook among the rocks, no brookside, no shadebeneath the trees that is not haunted by some Éäpherd telling hiswoes to the breezes; wherever there is an echo it repeats the nameof leandra; the mountains ring with "leandra," "leandra" murmur thebrooks, and leandra keeps us all bewildered and bewitched, hopingwithout hope and fearing without knowing what we fear. of all thissilly set the one that shows the least and also the most sense is myrival anselmo, for having so many other things toin of, he onlins of separation, and to the apaniment of a rebeck, whichhe ys admirably, he sings hisints in verses that show hisingenuity. i follow another, easier, and to my mind wiser course,and that is to rail at the frivolity of women, at their inconstancy,their double dealing, their broken promises, their unkept pledges, andin short the want of reflection they show in fiÐÔ their affectionsand inclinations. this, sirs, was the reason of words andexpressions i made use of to this goat when i came up just now; for asÉä is a female i have a contempt for her, though Éä is the best inall my fold. this is the story i promised to tell you, and if i havebeen tedious in telling it, i will not be slow to serve you; my hut isclose by, and i have fresh milk and dainty cheese there, as well asa variety of toothsome fruit, no less pleasing to the eye than tothe pte. ²åpter lii of the quarrel that don quixote had with the goatherd, together withthe rare adventure of the penitents, which with an expenditure ofsweat he brought to a happy conclusion the goatherds tale gave great satisfaction to all the hearers,and the canon especially enjoyed it, for he had remarked withparticr attention the manner in which it had been told, which wasas unlike the manner of a clownish goatherd as it was like that of apoliÉäd city wit; and he observed that the curate had been quiteright in saying that the woods bred men of learning. they alloffered their services to eugenio but he who showed himself mostliberal in this way was don quixote, who said to him, "most assuredly,brother goatherd, if i found myself in a position to attempt anyadventure, i would, this very instant, set out on your behalf, andwould rescue leandra from that convent £¨where no doubt Éä is keptagainst her will£©£¬ in spite of the abbess and all who might try toprevent me, and would ce her in your hands to deal with herording to your will and pleasure, observing, however, thews ofchivalry whichy down that no violence of any kind is to beoffered to any damsel. but i trust in god our lord that the might ofone malignant en²ånter may not prove so great but that the power ofanother better disposed may prove superior to it, and then i promiseyou my support and assistance, as i am bound to do by my profession,which is none other than to give aid to the weak and needy." the goatherd eyed him, and noticing don quixotes sorry appearanceand looks, he was filled with wonder, and asked the barber, who wasnext him, "senor, who is this man who makes such a figure and talks insuch a strain?" "who should it be," said the barber, "but the famous don quixoteof man²å, the undoer of injustice, the righter of wrongs, theprotector of damsels, the terror of giants, and the winner ofbattles?" "that," said the goatherd, "sounds like what one reads in thebooks of the knights-errant, who did all that you say this man does;though it is my belief that either you are joking, or else thisgentleman has empty lodgings in his head." "you are a great scoundrel," said don quixote, "and it is you whoare empty and a fool. i am fuller than ever was the whoreson bitchthat bore you;" and passing from words to deeds, he caught up a loafthat was near him and sent it full in the goatherds face, with suchforce that he ttened his nose; but the goatherd, who did notunderstand jokes, and found himself roughly handled in such goodearnest, paying no respect to carpet, tablecloth, or diners, sprangupon don quixote, and seizing him by the throat with both handswould no doubt have throttled him, had not sancho panza that instane to the rescue, and grasping him by the shoulders flung him downon the table, smashing tes, breaking sses, and upsetting andscattering everything on it. don quixote, finding himself free, stroveto get on top of the goatherd, who, with his face covered withblood, and soundly kicked by sancho, was on all fours feeling aboutfor one of the table-knives to take a bloody revenge with. the canonand the curate, however, prevented him, but the barber so contrived itthat he got don quixote under him, and rained down upon him such ashower of fisticuffs that the poor knights face streamed with bloodas freely as his own. the canon and the curate were bursting witughter, the officers were capering with delight, and both the oneand the other hissed them on as they do dogs that are worrying oneanother in a fight. sancho alone was frantic, for he could not freehimself from the grasp of one of the canons servants, who kept himfrom going to his masters assistance.
µÚ98Ò³ atst, while they were all, with the exception of the two bruiserswho were mauling each other, in high glee and enjoyment, they hearda trumpet sound a note so doleful that it made them all look in thedirection whence the sound seemed toe. but the one that was mostexcited by hearing it was don quixote, who though sorely against hiswill he was under the goatherd, and something more than pretty wellpummelled, said to him, "brother devil £¨for it is impossible butthat thou must be one since thou hast had might and strength enough toovee mine£©£¬ i ask thee to agree to a truce for but one hour forthe solemn note of yonder trumpet that falls on our ears seems to meto summon me to some new adventure." the goatherd, who was by thistime tired of pummelling and being pummelled, released him at once,and don quixote rising to his feet and turning his eyes to the quarterwhere the sound had been heard, suddenly sawing down the slopeof a hill several men d in white like penitents. the fact was that the clouds had that year withheld their moisturefrom the earth, and in all the viges of the district they wereorganising processions, rogations, and penances, imploring god to openthe hands of his mercy and send the rain; and to this end the peopleof a vige that was hard by were going in procession to a holyhermitage there was on one side of that valley. don quixote when hesaw the strange garb of the penitents, without reflecting how often hehad seen it before, took it into his head that this was a case ofadventure, and that it fell to him alone as a knight-errant toengage in it; and he was all the more confirmed in this notion, by theidea that an image draped in ck they had with them was someillustriousdy that these viins and discourteous thieves werecarrying off by force. as soon as this urred to him he ran with allspeed to rocinante who was grazing atrge, and taking the bridle andthe buckler from the saddle-bow, he had him bridled in an instant, andcalling to sancho for his sword he mounted rocinante, braced hisbuckler on his arm, and in a loud voice eximed to those who stoodby, "now, noblepany, ye shall see how important it is that thereshould be knights in the world professing the of knight-errantry; now,i say, ye shall see, by the deliverance of that worthydy who isborne captive there, whether knights-errant deserve to be held inestimation," and so saying he brought his legs to bear on rocinante-for he had no spurs- and at a full canter £¨for in all this veracioushistory we never read of rocinante fairly galloping£© set off toencounter the penitents, though the curate, the canon, and thebarber ran to prevent him. but it was out of their power, nor did heeven stop for the shouts of sancho calling after him, "where are yougoing, senor don quixote? what devils have possessed you to set you onagainst our catholic faith? gue take me! mind, that is a processionof penitents, and thedy they are carrying on that stand there isthe blessed image of the immacte virgin. take care what you aredoing, senor, for this time it may be safely said you dont knowwhat you are about." sanchoboured in vain, for his master was sobent oning to quarters with these Éäeted figures and releasingthedy in ck that he did not hear a word; and even had heheard, he would not have turned back if the king had ordered him. hecame up with the procession and reined in rocinante, who was alreadyanxious enough to cken speed a little, and in a hoarse, excitedvoice he eximed, "you who hide your faces, perhaps because youare not good subjects, pay attention and listen to what i am aboutto say to you." the first to halt were those who were carrying theimage, and one of the four lesiastics who were ²ånting the litany,struck by the strange figure of don quixote, the leanness ofrocinante, and the other ludicrous peculiarities he observed, saidin reply to him, "brother, if you have anything to say to us say itquickly, for these brethren are whipping themselves, and we cannotstop, nor is it reasonable we should stop to hear anything, unlessindeed it is short enough to be said in two words." "i will say it in one," replied don quixote, "and it is this; thatat once, this very instant, ye release that fairdy whose tearsand sad aspect show inly that ye are carrying her off against herwill, and that ye havemitted some scandalous outrage againsther; and i, who was born into the world to redress all such likewrongs, will not permit you to advance another step until you haverestored to her the liberty Éä pines for and deserves." from these words all the hearers concluded that he must be a madman,and began tough heartily, and theirughter acted like gunpowderon don quixotes fury, for drawing his sword without another word hemade a rush at the stand. one of those who supported it, leaving theburden to hisrades, advanced to meet him, flourishing a forkedstick that he had for propping up the stand when resting, and withthis he caught a mighty cut don quixote made at him that severed it intwo; but with the portion that remained in his hand he dealt such athwack on the shoulder of don quixotes sword arm £¨which the bucklercould not protect against the clownish assault£© that poor donquixote came to the ground in a sad plight. sancho panza, who wasing on close behind puffing and blowing,seeing him fall, cried out to his assant not to strike him again,for he was poor en²ånted knight, who had never harmed anyone allthe days of his life; but what checked the clown was, not sanchosshouting, but seeing that don quixote did not stir hand or foot; andso, fancying he had killed him, he hastily hitched up his tunicunder his girdle and took to his heels across the country like a deer. by this time all don quixotespanions hade up to where hy; but the processionists seeing theme running, and with themthe officers of the brotherhood with their crossbows, apprehendedmischief, and clustering round the image, raised their hoods, andgrasped their scourges, as the priests did their tapers, and awaitedthe attack, resolved to defend themselves and even to take theoffensive against their assants if they could. fortune, however,arranged the matter better than they expected, for all sancho didwas to fling himself on his masters body, raising over him the mostdoleful andughablementation that ever was heard, for he believedhe was dead. the curate was known to another curate who walked inthe procession, and their recognition of one another set at rest theapprehensions of both parties; the first then told the other in twowords who don quixote was, and he and the whole troop of penitentswent to see if the poor gentleman was dead, and heard sancho panzasaying, with tears in his eyes, "oh flower of chivalry, that withone blow of a stick hast ended the course of thy well-spent life! ohpride of thy race, honour and glory of all man²å, nay, of allthe world, that for want of thee will be full of evil-doers, no longerin fear of punishment for their misdeeds! oh thou, generous aboveall the alexanders, since for only eight months of service thou hastgiven me the best ind the sea girds or surrounds! humble with theproud, haughty with the humble, encounterer of dangers, endurer ofoutrages, enamoured without reason, imitator of the good, scourge ofthe wicked, enemy of the mean, in short, knight-errant, which is allthat can be said!" at the cries and moans of sancho, don quixote came to himself, andthe first word he said was, "he who lives separated from you, sweetestdulcinea, has greater miseries to endure than these. aid me, friendsancho, to mount the en²ånted cart, for i am not in a condition topress the saddle of rocinante, as this shoulder is all knocked topieces." "that i will do with all my heart, senor," said sancho; "and letus return to our vige with these gentlemen, who seek your good, andthere we will prepare for making another sally, which may turn outmore profitable and creditable to us." "thou art right, sancho," returned don quixote; "it will be wiseto let the malign influence of the stars which now prevails pass off." the canon, the curate, and the barber told him he would act verywisely in doing as he said; and so, highly amused at sancho panzassimplicities, they ced don quixote in the cart as before. theprocession once more formed itself in order and proceeded on its road;the goatherd took his leave of the party; the officers of thebrotherhood declined to go any farther, and the curate paid themwhat was due to them; the canon begged the curate to let him knowhow don quixote did, whether he was cured of his madness or stillsuffered from it, and then begged leave to continue his journey; inshort, they all separated and went their ways, leaving to themselvesthe curate and the barber, don quixote, sancho panza, and the goodrocinante, who regarded everything with as great resignation as hismaster. the carter yoked his oxen and made don quixotefortableon a truss of hay, and at his usual deliberate pace took the roadthe curate directed, and at the end of six days they reached donquixotes vige, and entered it about the middle of the day, whichit so happened was a sunday, and the people were all in the za,through which don quixotes cart passed. they all flocked to seewhat was in the cart, and when they recognised their townsman theywere filled with amazement, and a boy ran off to bring the news to hishousekeeper and his niece that their master and uncle hade backall lean and yellow and stretched on a truss of hay on an ox-cart.it was piteous to hear the cries the two gooddies raised, howthey beat their breasts and poured out fresh maledictions on thoseursed books of chivalry; all which was renewed when they saw donquixoteing in at the gate.
µÚ99Ò³ at the news of don quixotes arrival sancho panzas wife camerunning, for Éä by this time knew that her husband had gone away withhim as his squire, and on seeing sancho, the first thing Éä asked himwas if the ass was well. sancho replied that he was, better than hismaster was. "thanks be to god," said Éä, "for being so good to me; but now tellme, my friend, what have you made by your squirings? what gown haveyou brought me back? what shoes for your children?" "i bring nothing of that sort, wife," said sancho; "though i bringother things of more consequence and value." "i am very d of that," returned his wife; "show me these thingsof more value and consequence, my friend; for i want to see them tocheer my heart that has been so sad and heavy all these ages thatyou have been away." "i will show them to you at home, wife," said sancho; "be contentfor the present; for if it please god that we should again go on ourtravels in search of adventures, you will soon see me a count, orgovernor of an ind, and that not one of those everyday ones, butthe best that is to be had." "heaven grant it, husband," said Éä, "for indeed we have need ofit. but tell me, whats this about inds, for i dont understandit?" "honey is not for the mouth of the ass," returned sancho; "all ingood time thou shalt see, wife- nay, thou wilt be surprised to hearthyself called yourdyship by all thy vassals." "what are you talking about, sancho, with yourdyships, inds,and vassals?" returned teresa panza- for so sanchos wife wascalled, though they were not rtions, for in man²å it iscustomary for wives to take their husbands surnames. "dont be in such a hurry to know all this, teresa," said sancho;"it is enough that i am telling you the truth, so shut your mouth. buti may tell you this much by the way, that there is nothing in theworld more delightful than to be a person of consideration, squireto a knight-errant, and a seeker of adventures. to be sure most ofthose one finds do not end as pleasantly as one could wish, for out ofa hundred, ny-nine will turn out cross and contrary. i know itby experience, for out of some i came nketed, and out of othersbboured. still, for all that, it is a fine thing to be on thelook-out for what may happen, crossing mountains, searching woods,climbing rocks, visiting castles, putting up at inns, all at freequarters, and devil take the maravedi to pay." while this conversation passed between sancho panza and his wife,don quixotes housekeeper and niece took him in and undressed himandid him in his old bed. he eyed them askance, and could notmake out where he was. the curate ²årged his niece to be very carefulto make her unclefortable and to keep a watch over him lest heshould make his escape from them again, telling her what they had beenobliged to do to bring him home. on this the pair once more liftedup their voices and renewed their maledictions upon the books ofchivalry, and implored heaven to plunge the authors of such lies andnonsense into the midst of the bottomless pit. they were, in short,kept in anxiety and dread lest their uncle and master should give themthe slip the moment he found himself somewhat better, and as theyfeared so it fell out. but the author of this history, though he has devoted research andindustry to the discovery of the deeds achieved by don quixote inhis third sally, has been unable to obtain any informationrespecting them, at any rate derived from authentic documents;tradition has merely preserved in the memory of man²å the factthat don quixote, the third time he sallied forth from his home,betook himself to saragossa, where he was present at some famousjousts which came off in that city, and that he had adventures thereworthy of his valour and high intelligence. of his end and death hecould learn no particrs, nor would he have ascertained it orknown of it, if good fortune had not produced an old physician for himwho had in his possession a leaden box, which, ording to hisount, had been discovered among the crumbling foundations of anancient hermitage that was being rebuilt; in which box were foundcertain parchment manuscripts in gothic ²åracter, but in castilianverse, containing many of his achievements, and setting forth thebeauty of dulcinea, the form of rocinante, the fidelity of sanchopanza, and the burial of don quixote himself, together with sundryepitaphs and eulogies on his life and ²åracter; but all that could beread and deciphered were those which the trustworthy author of thisnew and unparalleled history here presents. and the said author asksof those that shall read it nothing in return for the vast toilwhich it has cost him in examining and searching the mancheganarchives in order to bring it to light, save that they give him thesame credit that people of sense give to the books of chivalry thatpervade the world and are so popr; for with this he will considerhimself amply paid and fully satisfied, and will be encouraged to seekout and produce other histories, if not as truthful, at least equal ininvention and not less entertaining. the first words written on theparchment found in the leaden box were these: the academicians of argamasi, a vige of la man²å, on the life and death of don quixote of man²å, hoc scripserunt monicongo, academician of argamasi, on the tomb of don quixote epitaph the scatterbrain that gave man²å more rich spoils than jasons; who a point so keen had to his wit, and happier far had been if his wits weathercock a blunter bore; the arm renowned far as gaetas shore, cathay, and all thends that lie between; the muse discreet and terrible in mien as ever wrote on brass in days of yore; he who surpassed the amadises all, and who as naught the gors ounted, supported by his love and gantry: who made the belianises sing small, and sought renown on rocinante mounted; here, underneath this cold stone, doth he lie. paniaguado, academician of argamasi, inudem dulcineae del toboso so Éä, whose full features may be here descried, high-bosomed, with a bearing of disdain, is dulcinea, Éä for whom in vain the great don quixote of man²å sighed. for her, tobosos queen, from side to side he traversed the grim sierra, the ²åmpaign of aranjuez, and montiels famous in: on rocinante oft a weary ride. malignants, cruel destiny, pursued them both, the fair manchegan dame, and the unconquered star of chivalry. nor youth nor beauty saved her from the im of death; he paid loves bitter penalty, and left the marble to preserve his name. caprichoso, a most acute academician of argamasi, in praise of rocinante, steed of don quixote of man²å so on that proud throne of diamantine Éäen, which the blood-reeking feet of mars degrade, the mad manchegans banner now hath been by him in all its bravery disyed. there hath he hung his arms and tren²ånt de wherewith, achieving deeds till now unseen, he ys,ys low, cleaves, hews; but art hath made a novel style for our new pdin. if amadis be the proud boast of gaul, if by his progeny the fame of greece through all the regions of the earth be spread, great quixote crowned in grim bellonas hall to-day exalts man²å over these, and above greece or gaul Éä holds her head. nor ends his glory here, for his good steed doth bridor and bayard far exceed; as mettled steedspared with rocinante, the reputation they have won is scanty. budor, academician of argamasi, on sancho panza so the worthy sancho panza here you see; a great soul once was in that body small, nor was there squire upon this earthly ball so in and simple, or of guile so free. within an ace of being count was he, and would have been but for the spite and gall of this vile age, mean and illiberal, that cannot even let a donkey be. for mounted on an ass £¨excuse the word£©£¬ by rocinantes side this gentle squire was wont his wandering master to attend. delusive hopes that lure themon herd with promises of ease, the hearts desire, in shadows, dreams, and smoke ye always end. cachidiablo, academician of argamasi, on the tomb of don quixote epitaph the knight lies here below, ill-errant and bruised sore, whom rocinante bore in his wanderings to and fro. by the side of the knight isid stolid man sancho too, than whom a squire more true
µÚ100Ò³ was not in the esquire trade. tiquitoc, academician of argamasi, on the tomb of dulcinea del toboso epitaph here dulcinea lies. plump was Éä and robust: now Éä is aÉäs and dust: the end of all flesh that dies. ady of high degree, with the port of a lofty dame, and the great don quixotes me, and the pride of her vige was Éä. these were all the verses that could be deciphered; the rest, thewriting being worm-eaten, were handed over to one of theacademicians to make out their meaning conjecturally. we have beeninformed that at the cost of many sleepless nights and much toil hehas seeded, and that he means to publish them in hopes of donquixotes third sally. "forse altro cantera con miglior plectro." dedication of part i to the duke of bejar, marquis of gibraleon, count of benalcazarand banares, vicecount of the pue de alcocer, master of the townsof capi, curiel and burguillos in belief of the good reception and honours that your excellencybestows on all sort of books, as prince so inclined to favor goodarts, chiefly those who by their nobleness do not submit to theservice and bribery of the vulgar, i have determined bringing to lightthe ingenious gentleman don quixote of man²å, in Éälter of yourexcellencys morous name, to whom, with the obeisance i owe to suchgrandeur, i pray to receive it agreeably under his protection, so thatin this shadow, though deprived of that precious ornament ofelegance and erudition that clothe the worksposed in the houses ofthose who know, it dares appear with assurance in the judgment of somewho, trespassing the bounds of their own ignorance, use to condemnwith more rigour and less justice the writings of others. it is myearnest hope that your excellencys good counsel in regard to myhonourable purpose, will not disdain the littleness of so humble aservice. miguel de cervantesxfirÑémz ²åpter i of the interview the curate and the barber had with don quixoteabout his mdy cide hamete benengeli, in the second part of this history, and thirdsally of don quixote, says that the curate and the barber remainednearly a month without seeing him, lest they should recall or bringback to his recollection what had taken ce. they did not,however, omit to visit his niece and housekeeper, and ²årge them tobe careful to treat him with attention, and give himforting thingsto eat, and such as were good for the heart and the brain, whence,it was in to see, all his misfortune proceeded. the niece andhousekeeper replied that they did so, and meant to do so with allpossible care and assiduity, for they could perceive that their masterwas now and then beginning to show signs of being in his right mind.this gave great satisfaction to the curate and the barber, for theyconcluded they had taken the right course in carrying him offen²ånted on the ox-cart, as has been described in the first part ofthis great as well as urate history, in thest ²åpter thereof.so they resolved to pay him a visit and test the improvement in hiscondition, although they thought it almost impossible that there couldbe any; and they agreed not to touch upon any point connected withknight-errantry so as not to run the risk of reopening wounds whichwere still so tender. they came to see him consequently, and found him sitting up in bedin a green baize waistcoat and a red toledo cap, and so withered anddried up that he looked as if he had been turned into a mummy. theywere very cordially received by him; they asked him after hiÉäalth, and he talked to them about himself very naturally and in verywell-chosennguage. in the course of their conversation they fell todiscussing what they call state-craft and systems of government,correcting this abuse and condemning that, reforming one practiceand abolishing another, each of the three setting up for a newlegitor, a modern lycurgus, or a brand-new solon; and sopletelydid they remodel the state, that they seemed to have thrust it intoa furnace and taken out something quite different from what they hadput in; and on all the subjects they dealt with, don quixote spokewith such good sense that the pair of examiners were fully convincedthat he was quite recovered and in his full senses. the niece and housekeeper were present at the conversation and couldnot find words enough to express their thanks to god at seeing theirmaster so clear in his mind; the curate, however, ²ånging hisoriginal n, which was to avoid touching upon matters of chivalry,resolved to test don quixotes recovery thoroughly, and see whether itwere genuine or not; and so, from one subject to another, he came ast to talk of the news that hade from the capital, and, amongother things, he said it was considered certain that the turk waing down with a powerful fleet, and that no one knew what hispurpose was, or when the great storm would burst; and that allchristendom was in apprehension of this, which almost every year callsus to arms, and that his majesty had made provision for the securityof the coasts of naples and sicily and the ind of malta. to this don quixote replied, "his majesty has acted like a prudentwarrior in providing for the safety of his realms in time, so that theenemy may not find him unprepared; but if my advice were taken i wouldrmend him to adopt a measure which at present, no doubt, hismajesty is very far from thinking of." the moment the curate heard this he said to himself, "god keepthee in his hand, poor don quixote, for it seems to me thou artprecipitating thyself from the height of thy madness into the profoundabyss of thy simplicity." but the barber, who had the same suspicion as the curate, askeddon quixote what would be his advice as to the measures that he saidought to be adopted; for perhaps it might prove to be one that wouldhave to be added to the list of the many impertinent suggestionsthat people were in the habit of offering to princes. "mine, master shaver," said don quixote, "will not be impertinent,but, on the contrary, pertinent." "i dont mean that," said the barber, "but that experience has shownthat all or most of the expedients which are proposed to his majestyare either impossible, or absurd, or injurious to the king and tothe kingdom." "mine, however," replied don quixote, "is neither impossible norabsurd, but the easiest, the most reasonable, the readiest and mostexpeditious that could suggest itself to any projectors mind." "you take a long time to tell it, senor don quixote," said thecurate. "i dont choose to tell it here, now," said don quixote, "and haveit reach the ears of the lords of the council to-morrow morning, andsome other carry off the thanks and rewards of my trouble." "for my part," said the barber, "i give my word here and beforegod that i will not repeat what your worship says, to king, rook orearthly man- an oath i learned from the bad of the curate, who,in the prelude, told the king of the thief who had robbed him of thehundred gold crowns and his pacing mule." "i am not versed in stories," said don quixote; "but i know the oathis a good one, because i know the barber to be an honest fellow." "even if he were not," said the curate, "i will go bail and answerfor him that in this matter he will be as silent as a dummy, underpain of paying any penalty that may be pronounced." "and who will be security for you, senor curate?" said don quixote. "my profession," replied the curate, "which is to keep secrets." "ods body!" said don quixote at this, "what more has his majestyto do but tomand, by public promation, all the knights-errantthat are scattered over spain to assemble on a fixed day in thecapital, for even if no more than half a dozene, there may beone among them who alone will suffice to destroy the entire might ofthe turk. give me your attention and follow me. is it, pray, any newthing for a single knight-errant to demolish an army of two hundredthousand men, as if they all had but one throat or were made ofsugar paste? nay, tell me, how many histories are there filled withthese marvels? if only £¨in an evil hour for me: i dont speak foranyone else£© the famous don belianis were alive now, or any one of theinnumerable progeny of amadis of gaul! if any these were alivetoday, and were toe face to face with the turk, by my faith, iwould not give much for the turks ²ånce. but god will have regardfor his people, and will provide some one, who, if not so valiant asthe knights-errant of yore, at least will not be inferior to them inspirit; but god knows what i mean, and i say no more." "s!" eximed the niece at this, "may i die if my master doesnot want to turn knight-errant again;" to which don quixote replied,"a knight-errant i shall die, and let the turke down or go up whenhe likes, and in as strong force as he can, once more i say, god knowswhat i mean." but here the barber said, "i ask your worships to giveme leave to tell a short story of something that happened inseville, whiches so pat to the purpose just now that i should likegreatly to tell it." don quixote gave him leave, and the rest preparedto listen, and he began thus:
µÚ101Ò³ "in the madhouse at seville there was a man whom his rtions hadced there as being out of his mind. he was a graduate of osuna incanonw; but even if he had been of smanca, it was the opinion ofmost people that he would have been mad all the same. this graduate,after some years of confinement, took it into his head that he wassane and in his full senses, and under this impression wrote to thearchbishop, entreating him earnestly, and in very correctnguage, tohave him released from the misery in which he was living; for by godsmercy he had now recovered his lost reason, though his rtions, inorder to enjoy his property, kept him there, and, in spite of thetruth, would make him out to be mad until his dying day. thearchbishop, moved by repeated sensible, well-written letters, directedone of his ²åins to make inquiry of the madhouse as to the truthof the licentiates statements, and to have an interview with themadman himself, and, if it should appear that he was in his senses, totake him out and restore him to liberty. the ²åin did so, andthe governor assured him that the man was still mad, and that thoughhe often spoke like a highly intelligent person, he would in the endbreak out into nonsense that in quantity and quality counterbncedall the sensible things he had said before, as might be easilytested by talking to him. the ²åin resolved to try the experiment,and obtaining ess to the madman conversed with him for an hour ormore, during the whole of which time he never uttered a word thatwas incoherent or absurd, but, on the contrary, spoke so rationallythat the ²åin waspelled to believe him to be sane. among otherthings, he said the governor was against him, not to lose the presentshis rtions made him for reporting him still mad but with lucidintervals; and that the worst foe he had in his misfortune was hirge property; for in order to enjoy it his enemies disparaged andthrew doubts upon the mercy our lord had shown him in turning him froma brute beast into a man. in short, he spoke in such a way that hecast suspicion on the governor, and made his rtions appear covetousand heartless, and himself so rational that the ²åin determined totake him away with him that the archbishop might see him, andascertain for himself the truth of the matter. yielding to thisconviction, the worthy ²åin begged the governor to have theclothes in which the licentiate had entered the house given to him.the governor again bade him beware of what he was doing, as thelicentiate was beyond a doubt still mad; but all his cautions andwarnings were unavailing to dissuade the ²åin from taking himaway. the governor, seeing that it was the order of the archbishop,obeyed, and they dressed the licentiate in his own clothes, which werenew and decent. he, as soon as he saw himself clothed like one inhis senses, and divested of the appearance of a madman, entreatedthe ²åin to permit him in ²årity to go and take leave of hirades the madmen. the ²åin said he would go with him to seewhat madmen there were in the house; so they went upstairs, and withthem some of those who were present. approaching a cage in which therewas a furious madman, though just at that moment calm and quiet, thelicentiate said to him, brother, think if you have anymands forme, for i am going home, as god has been pleased, in his infinitegoodness and mercy, without any merit of mine, to restore me myreason. i am now cured and in my senses, for with gods powernothing is impossible. have strong hope and trust in him, for as hehas restored me to my original condition, so likewise he willrestore you if you trust in him. i will take care to send you somegood things to eat; and be sure you eat them; for i would have youknow i am convinced, as one who has gone through it, that all thismadness of ourses of having the stomach empty and the brainsfull of wind. take courage! take courage! for despondency inmisfortune breaks down health and brings on death. "to all these words of the licentiate another madman in a cageopposite that of the furious one was listening; and raising himself upfrom an old mat on which hey stark naked, he asked in a loudvoice who it was that was going away cured and in his senses. thelicentiate answered, it is i, brother, who am going; i have now noneed to remain here any longer, for which i return infinite thanksto heaven that has had so great mercy upon me. "mind what you are saying, licentiate; dont let the devildeceive you, replied the madman. keep quiet, stay where you are, andyou will save yourself the trouble ofing back. "i know i am cured, returned the licentiate, and that i shall nothave to go stations again. "you cured! said the madman; well, we shall see; god be with you;but i swear to you by jupiter, whose majesty i represent on earth,that for this crime alone, which seville ismitting to-day inreleasing you from this house, and treating you as if you were in yoursenses, i shall have to inflict such a punishment on it as will beremembered for ages and ages, amen. dost thou not know, thou miserablelittle licentiate, that i can do it, being, as i say, jupiter thethunderer, who hold in my hands the fiery bolts with which i am ableand am wont to threaten andy waste the world? but in one way onlywill i punish this ignorant town, and that is by not raining uponit, nor on any part of its district or territory, for three wholeyears, to be reckoned from the day and moment when this threat ispronounced. thou free, thou cured, thou in thy senses! and i mad, idisordered, i bound! i will as soon think of sending rain as ofhanging myself. "those present stood listening to the words and exmations ofthe madman; but our licentiate, turning to the ²åin and seizinghim by the hands, said to him, be not uneasy, senor; attach noimportance to what this madman has said; for if he is jupiter and willnot send rain, i, who am neptune, the father and god of the waters,will rain as often as it pleases me and may be needful. "the governor and the bystandersughed, and at theirughterthe ²åin was half ashamed, and he replied, for all that, senorneptune, it will not do to vex senor jupiter; remain where you are,and some other day, when there is a better opportunity and moretime, we wille back for you. so they stripped the licentiate, andhe was left where he was; and thats the end of the story." "so thats the story, master barber," said don quixote, "whichcame in so pat to the purpose that you could not help telling it?master shaver, master shaver! how blind is he who cannot see through asieve. is it possible that you do not know thatparisons of witwith wit, valour with valour, beauty with beauty, birth with birth,are always odious and unwee? i, master barber, am not neptune, thegod of the waters, nor do i try to make anyone take me for an astuteman, for i am not one. my only endeavour is to convince the world ofthe mistake it makes in not reviving in itself the happy time when theorder of knight-errantry was in the field. but our depraved age doesnot deserve to enjoy such a blessing as those ages enjoyed whenknights-errant took upon their shoulders the defence of kingdoms,the protection of damsels, the sour of orphans and minors, the²åstisement of the proud, and the rpense of the humble. withthe knights of these days, for the most part, it is the damask,brocade, and rich stuffs they wear, that rustle as they go, not the²åin mail of their armour; no knight now-a-days sleeps in the openfield exposed to the inclemency of heaven, and in full panoply fromhead to foot; no one now takes a nap, as they call it, without drawinghis feet out of the stirrups, and leaning upon hisnce, as theknights-errant used to do; no one now, issuing from the wood,prates yonder mountains, and then treads the barren, lonelyshore of the sea- mostly a tempestuous and stormy one- and findingon the beach a little bark without oars, sail, mast, or tackling ofany kind, in the intrepidity of his heart flings himself into it anmits himself to the wrathful billows of the deep sea, that onemoment lift him up to heaven and the next plunge him into thedepths; and opposing his breast to the irresistible gale, findshimself, when he least expects it, three thousand leagues and moreaway from the ce where he embarked; and leaping ashore in aremote and unknownnd has adventures that deserve to be written, noton parchment, but on brass. but now sloth triumphs over energy,indolence over exertion, vice over virtue, arrogance over courage, andtheory over practice in arms, which flouriÉäd and shone only in thegolden ages and in knights-errant. for tell me, who was morevirtuous and more valiant than the famous amadis of gaul? who morediscreet than palmerin of ennd? who more gracious and easy thantirante el nco? who more courtly than lisuarte of greece? whomore Éäd or shing than don belianis? who more intrepid thanperion of gaul? who more ready to face danger than felixmarte ofhircania? who more sincere than esndian? who more impetuous thandon cirongilio of thrace? who more bold than rodamonte? who moreprudent than king sobrino? who more daring than reinaldos? who moreinvincible than rnd? and who more gant and courteous thanruggiero, from whom the dukes of ferrara of the present day aredescended, ording to turpin in his cosmography. all theseknights, and many more that i could name, senor curate, wereknights-errant, the light and glory of chivalry. these, or such asthese, i would have to carry out my n, and in that case his majestywould find himself well served and would save great expense, and theturk would be left tearing his beard. and so i will stay where i am,as the ²åin does not take me away; and if jupiter, as the barberhas told us, will not send rain, here am i, and i will rain when iplease. i say this that master basin may know that i understand him."
µÚ102Ò³ "indeed, senor don quixote," said the barber, "i did not mean itin that way, and, so help me god, my intention was good, and yourworship ought not to be vexed." "as to whether i ought to be vexed or not," returned don quixote, "imyself am the best judge." hereupon the curate observed, "i have hardly said a word as yet; andi would dly be relieved of a doubt, arising from what don quixotehas said, that worries and works my conscience." "the senor curate has leave for more than that," returned donquixote, "so he may dere his doubt, for it is not pleasant tohave a doubt on ones conscience." "well then, with that permission," said the curate, "i say mydoubt is that, all i can do, i cannot persuade myself that the wholepack of knights-errant you, senor don quixote, have mentioned, werereally and truly persons of flesh and blood, that ever lived in theworld; on the contrary, i suspect it to be all fiction, fable, andfalsehood, and dreams told by men awakened from sleep, or rather stillhalf asleep." "that is another mistake," replied don quixote, "into which manyhave fallen who do not believe that there ever were such knights inthe world, and i have often, with divers people and on diversasions, tried to expose this almost universal error to the light oftruth. sometimes i have not been sessful in my purpose, sometimes ihave, supporting it upon the shoulders of the truth; which truth is soclear that i can almost say i have with my own eyes seen amadis ofgaul, who was a man of lofty stature, fairplexion, with a handsomethough ck beard, of a countenance between gentle and stern inexpression, sparing of words, slow to anger, and quick to put itaway from him; and as i have depicted amadis, so i could, i think,portray and describe all the knights-errant that are in all thehistories in the world; for by the perception i have that they werewhat their histories describe, and by the deeds they did and thedispositions they disyed, it is possible, with the aid of soundphilosophy, to deduce their features,plexion, and stature." "how big, in your worships opinion, may the giant morgante havebeen, senor don quixote?" asked the barber. "with regard to giants," replied don quixote, "opinions differ as towhether there ever were any or not in the world; but the holyscripture, which cannot err by a jot from the truth, shows us thatthere were, when it gives us the history of that big philistine,goliath, who was seven cubits and a half in height, which is a hugesize. likewise, in the ind of sicily, there have been foundleg-bones and arm-bones sorge that their size makes it in thattheir owners were giants, and as tall as great towers; geometry putsthis fact beyond a doubt. but, for all that, i cannot speak withcertainty as to the size of morgante, though i suspect he cannothave been very tall; and i am inclined to be of this opinion because ifind in the history in which his deeds are particrly mentioned,that he frequently slept under a roof and as he found houses tocontain him, it is clear that his bulk could not have been anythingexcessive." "that is true," said the curate, and yielding to the enjoyment ofhearing such nonsense, he asked him what was his notion of thefeatures of reinaldos of montalban, and don rnd and the rest of thetwelve peers of france, for they were all knights-errant. "as for reinaldos," replied don quixote, "i venture to say that hewas broad-faced, of ruddyplexion, with roguish and somewhatprominent eyes, excessively punctilious and touchy, and given to thesociety of thieves and scapegraces. with regard to rnd, orrotndo, or ondo £¨for the histories call him by all these names£©£¬i am of opinion, and hold, that he was of middle height,broad-shouldered, rather bow-legged, swarthyplexioned,red-bearded, with a hairy body and a severe expression of countenance,a man of few words, but very polite and well-bred." "if rnd was not a more graceful person than your worship hasdescribed," said the curate, "it is no wonder that the fairdyangelica rejected him and left him for the gaiety, liveliness, andgrace of that budding-bearded little moor to whom Éä surrenderedherself; and Éä showed her sense in falling in love with the gentlesoftness of medoro rather than the roughness of rnd." "that angelica, senor curate," returned don quixote, "was a giddydamsel, flighty and somewhat wanton, and Éä left the world as full ofher vagaries as of the fame of her beauty. Éä treated with scorn athousand gentlemen, men of valour and wisdom, and took up with asmooth-faced sprig of a page, without fortune or fame, except suchreputation for gratitude as the affection he bore his friend got forhim. the great poet who sang her beauty, the famous ariosto, notcaring to sing her adventures after her contemptible surrender£¨which probably were not over and above creditable£©£¬ dropped her wherehe says: how Éä received the sceptre of cathay, some bard of defter quill may sing some day;and this was no doubt a kind of prophecy, for poets are also calledvates, that is to say diviners; and its truth was made in; forsince then a famous andalusian poet hasmented and sung her tears,and another famous and rare poet, a castilian, has sung her beauty." "tell me, senor don quixote," said the barber here, "among all thosewho praised her, has there been no poet to write a satire on thisdyangelica?" "i can well believe," replied don quixote, "that if sacripante orrnd had been poets they would have given the damsel a trimming; forit is naturally the way with poets who have been scorned andrejected by theirdies, whether fictitious or not, in short by thosewhom they select as thedies of their thoughts, to avenge themselvesin satires and libels- a vengeance, to be sure, unworthy of generouÉäarts; but up to the present i have not heard of any defamatory verseagainst thedy angelica, who turned the world upside down." "strange," said the curate; but at this moment they heard thehousekeeper and the niece, who had previously withdrawn from theconversation, eximing aloud in the courtyard, and at the noise theyall ran out. ²åpter ii which treats of the notable altercation which sancho panza hadwith don quixotes niece, and housekeeper, together with other drollmatters the history rtes that the outcry don quixote, the curate, and thebarber heard came from the niece and the housekeeper eximing tosancho, who was striving to force his way in to see don quixotewhile they held the door against him, "what does the vagabond wantin this house? be off to your own, brother, for it is you, and noone else, that delude my master, and lead him astray, and take himtramping about the country." to which sancho replied, "devils own housekeeper! it is i who amdeluded, and led astray, and taken tramping about the country, and notthy master! he has carried me all over the world, and you are mightilymistaken. he enticed me away from home by a trick, promising me anind, which i am still waiting for." "may evil inds choke thee, thou detestable sancho," said theniece; "what are inds? is it something to eat, glutton andgormandiser that thou art?" "it is not something to eat," replied sancho, "but something togovern and rule, and better than four cities or four judgeships atcourt." "for all that," said the housekeeper, "you dont enter here, you bagof mischief and sack of knavery; go govern your house and dig yourseed-patch, and give over looking for inds or shnds." the curate and the barber listened with great amusement to the wordsof the three; but don quixote, uneasy lest sancho should b andblurt out a whole heap of mischievous stupidities, and touch uponpoints that might not be altogether to his credit, called to him andmade the other two hold their tongues and let hime in. sanchoentered, and the curate and the barber took their leave of donquixote, of whose recovery they despaired when they saw how weddedhe was to his crazy ideas, and how saturated with the nonsense ofhis unlucky chivalry; and said the curate to the barber, "you willsee, gossip, that when we are least thinking of it, our gentleman willbe off once more for another flight." "i have no doubt of it," returned the barber; "but i do not wonderso much at the madness of the knight as at the simplicity of thesquire, who has such a firm belief in all that about the ind,that i suppose all the exposures that could be imagined would notget it out of his head." "god help them," said the curate; "and let us be on the look-outto see whates of all these absurdities of the knight and squire,for it seems as if they had both been cast in the same mould, andthe madness of the master without the simplicity of the man wouldnot be worth a farthing." "that is true," said the barber, "and i should like very much toknow what the pair are talking about at this moment." "i promise you," said the curate, "the niece or the housekeeper willtell us by-and-by, for they are not the ones to forget to listen." meanwhile don quixote shut himself up in his room with sancho, andwhen they were alone he said to him, "it grieves me greatly, sancho,that thou shouldst have said, and sayest, that i took thee out ofthy cottage, when thou knowest i did not remain in my house. wesallied forth together, we took the road together, we wanderedabroad together; we have had the same fortune and the same luck; ifthey nketed thee once, they bboured me a hundred times, and thatis the only advantage i have of thee."
µÚ103Ò³ "that was only reasonable," replied sancho, "for, by what yourworship says, misfortunes belong more properly to knights-errantthan to their squires." "thou art mistaken, sancho," said don quixote, "ording to themaxim quando caput dolet, &c." "i dont understand anynguage but my own," said sancho. "i mean to say," said don quixote, "that when the head suffers allthe members suffer; and so, being thy lord and master, i am thyhead, and thou a part of me as thou art my servant; and thereforeany evil that affects or shall affect me should give thee pain, andwhat affects thee give pain to me." "it should be so," said sancho; "but when i was nketed as amember, my head was on the other side of the wall, looking on whilei was flying through the air, and did not feel any pain whatever;and if the members are obliged to feel the suffering of the head, itshould be obliged to feel their sufferings." "dost thou mean to say now, sancho," said don quixote, "that i didnot feel when they were nketing thee? if thou dost, thou must notsay so or think so, for i felt more pain then in spirit than thoudidst in body. but let us put that aside for the present, for we shallhave opportunities enough for considering and settling the point; tellme, sancho my friend, what do they say about me in the vige here?what do themon people think of me? what do the hidalgos? what dothe caballeros? what do they say of my valour; of my achievements;of my courtesy? how do they treat the task i have undertaken inreviving and restoring to the world the now forgotten order ofchivalry? in short, sancho, i would have thee tell me all that hae to thine ears on this subject; and thou art to tell me, withoutadding anything to the good or taking away anything from the bad;for it is the duty of loyal vassals to tell the truth to their lordsjust as it is and in its proper shape, not allowing ttery to add toit or any idle deference to lessen it. and i would have thee know,sancho, that if the naked truth, undisguised by ttery, came tothe ears of princes, times would be different, and other ages would bereckoned iron ages more than ours, which i hold to be the golden ofthesetter days. profit by this advice, sancho, and report to meclearly and faithfully the truth of what thou knowest touching whati have demanded of thee." "that i will do with all my heart, master," replied sancho,"provided your worship will not be vexed at what i say, as you wish meto say it out in all its nakedness, without putting any more clotheson it than it came to my knowledge in." "i will not be vexed at all," returned don quixote; "thou mayestspeak freely, sancho, and without any beating about the bush." "well then," said he, "first of all, i have to tell you that thmon people consider your worship a mighty great madman, and me noless a fool. the hidalgos say that, not keeping within the bounds ofyour quality of gentleman, you have assumed the don, and made aknight of yourself at a jump, with four vine-stocks and a couple ofacres ofnd, and never a shirt to your back. the caballeros say theydo not want to have hidalgos setting up in opposition to them,particrly squire hidalgos who polish their own shoes and darn theirck stockings with green silk." "that," said don quixote, "does not apply to me, for i always gowell dressed and never patched; ragged i may be, but ragged morefrom the wear and tear of arms than of time." "as to your worships valour, courtesy, aplishments, and task,there is a variety of opinions. some say, mad but droll; others,valiant but unlucky; others, courteous but meddling, and then theygo into such a number of things that they dont leave a whole boneeither in your worship or in myself." "recollect, sancho," said don quixote, "that wherever virtueexists in an eminent degree it is persecuted. few or none of thefamous men that have lived escaped being calumniated by malice. juliuscaesar, the boldest, wisest, and bravest of captains, was ²årged withbeing ambitious, and not particrly cleanly in his dress, or pure inhis morals. of alexander, whose deeds won him the name of great,they say that he was somewhat of a drunkard. of hercules, him of themanybours, it is said that he was lewd and luxurious. of dongor, the brother of amadis of gaul, it was whispered that he wasover quarrelsome, and of his brother that he waschrymose. sothat, o sancho, amongst all these calumnies against good men, mine maybe let pass, since they are no more than thou hast said." "thats just where it is, body of my father!" "is there more, then?" asked don quixote. "theres the tail to be skinned yet," said sancho; "all so far iscakes and fancy bread; but if your worship wants to know all about thecalumnies they bring against you, i will fetch you one this instantwho can tell you the whole of them without missing an atom; forstnight the son of bartholomew carrasco, who has been studying atsmanca, came home after having been made a bachelor, and when iwent to wee him, he told me that your worships history is alreadyabroad in books, with the title of the ingenious gentleman don quixoteof man²å; and he says they mention me in it by my own name ofsancho panza, and thedy dulcinea del toboso too, and diversthings that happened to us when we were alone; so that i crossedmyself in my wonder how the historian who wrote them down could haveknown them." "i promise thee, sancho," said don quixote, "the author of ourhistory will be some sage en²ånter; for to such nothing that theychoose to write about is hidden." "what!" said sancho, "a sage and an en²ånter! why, the bachelorsamson carrasco £¨that is the name of him i spoke of£© says the authorof the history is called cide hamete berengena." "that is a moorish name," said don quixote. "may be so," replied sancho; "for i have heard say that the moorsare mostly great lovers of berengenas." "thou must have mistaken the surname of this cide- which meansin arabic lord- sancho," observed don quixote. "very likely," replied sancho, "but if your worship wiÉäs me tofetch the bachelor i will go for him in a twinkling." "thou wilt do me a great pleasure, my friend," said don quixote,"for what thou hast told me has amazed me, and i shall not eat amorsel that will agree with me until i have heard all about it." "then i am off for him," said sancho; and leaving his master he wentin quest of the bachelor, with whom he returned in a short time,and, all three together, they had a very droll colloquy. ²åpter iii of theughable conversation that passed between don quixote,sancho panza, and the bachelor samson carrasco don quixote remained very deep in thought, waiting for thebachelor carrasco, from whom he was to hear how he himself had beenput into a book as sancho said; and he could not persuade himself thatany such history could be in existence, for the blood of the enemieÉä had in was not yet dry on the de of his sword, and now theywanted to make out that his mighty achievements were going about inprint. for all that, he fancied some sage, either a friend or anenemy, might, by the aid of magic, have given them to the press; ifa friend, in order to magnify and exalt them above the most famousever achieved by any knight-errant; if an enemy, to bring them tonaught and degrade them below the meanest ever recorded of any lowsquire, though as he said to himself, the achievements of squiresnever were recorded. if, however, it were the fact that such a historywere in existence, it must necessarily, being the story of aknight-errant, be grandiloquent, lofty, imposing, grand and true. withthis heforted himself somewhat, though it made him ufortableto think that the author was a moor, judging by the title of "cide;"and that no truth was to be looked for from moors, as they are allimpostors, cheats, and schemers. he was afraid he might have dealtwith his love affairs in some indecorous fashion, that might tend tothe discredit and prejudice of the purity of hisdy dulcinea deltoboso; he would have had him set forth the fidelity and respect hehad always observed towards her, spurning queens, empresses, anddamsels of all sorts, and keeping in check the impetuosity of hisnatural impulses. absorbed and wrapped up in these and divers othercogitations, he was found by sancho and carrasco, whom don quixotereceived with great courtesy. the bachelor, though he was called samson, was of no great bodilysize, but he was a very great wag; he was of a sallowplexion,but very sharp-witted, somewhere about four-and-twenty years of age,with a round face, a t nose, and arge mouth, all indicationsof a mischievous disposition and a love of fun and jokes; and ofthis he gave a sample as soon as he saw don quixote, by falling on hisknees before him and saying, "let me kiss your mightinesss hand,senor don quixote of man²å, for, by the habit of st. peter thati wear, though i have no more than the first four orders, your worshipis one of the most famous knights-errant that have ever been, orwill be, all the world over. a blessing on cide hamete benengeli,who has written the history of your great deeds, and a double blessingon that connoisseur who took the trouble of having it tranted outof the arabic into our castilian vulgar tongue for the universalentertainment of the people!"
µÚ104Ò³ don quixote made him rise, and said, "so, then, it is true thatthere is a history of me, and that it was a moor and a sage whowrote it?" "so true is it, senor," said samson, "that my belief is there aremore than twelve thousand volumes of the said history in print thisvery day. only ask portugal, barcelona, and valencia, where theyhave been printed, and moreover there is a report that it is beingprinted at antwerp, and i am persuaded there will not be a countryornguage in which there will not be a trantion of it." "one of the things," here observed don quixote, "that ought togive most pleasure to a virtuous and eminent man is to find himself inhis lifetime in print and in type, familiar in peoples mouths witha good name; i say with a good name, for if it be the opposite, thenthere is no death to bepared to it." "if it goes by good name and fame," said the bachelor, "your worshipalone bears away the palm from all the knights-errant; for the moor inhis ownnguage, and the christian in his, have taken care to setbefore us your gantry, your high courage in encountering dangers,your fortitude in adversity, your patience under misfortunes as wes wounds, the purity and continence of the tonic loves of yourworship and mydy dona dulcinea del toboso-" "i never heard mydy dulcinea called dona," observed sanchohere; "nothing more than thedy dulcinea del toboso; so here alreadythe history is wrong." "that is not an objection of any importance," replied carrasco. "certainly not," said don quixote; "but tell me, senor bachelor,what deeds of mine are they that are made most of in this history?" "on that point," replied the bachelor, "opinions differ, as tastesdo; some swear by the adventure of the windmills that your worshiptook to be briareuses and giants; others by that of the fulling mills;one cries up the description of the two armies that afterwards tookthe appearance of two droves of Éäep; another that of the dead bodyon its way to be buried at segovia; a third says the liberation of thegalley ves is the best of all, and a fourth that nothinges upto the affair with the benedictine giants, and the battle with thevaliant biscayan." "tell me, senor bachelor," said sancho at this point, "does theadventure with the yanguesanse in, when our good rocinante wenthankering after dainties?" "the sage has left nothing in the ink-bottle," replied samson; "hetells all and sets down everything, even to the capers that worthysancho cut in the nket." "i cut no capers in the nket," returned sancho; "in the air idid, and more of them than i liked." "there is no human history in the world, i suppose," said donquixote, "that has not its ups and downs, but more than others such asdeal with chivalry, for they can never be entirely made up ofprosperous adventures." "for all that," replied the bachelor, "there are those who have readthe history who say they would have been d if the author had leftout some of the countless cudgellings that were inflicted on senor donquixote in various encounters." "thats where the truth of the historyes in," said sancho. "at the same time they might fairly have passed them over insilence," observed don quixote; "for there is no need of recordingevents which do not ²ånge or affect the truth of a history, if theytend to bring the hero of it into contempt. aeneas was not in truthand earnest so pious as virgil represents him, nor ulysses so wiseas homer describes him." "that is true," said samson; "but it is one thing to write as apoet, another to write as a historian; the poet may describe or singthings, not as they were, but as they ought to have been; but thehistorian has to write them down, not as they ought to have been,but as they were, without adding anything to the truth or takinganything from it." "well then," said sancho, "if this senor moor goes in for tellingthe truth, no doubt among my masters drubbings mine are to befound; for they never took the measure of his worships shoulderswithout doing the same for my whole body; but i have no right towonder at that, for, as my master himself says, the members must sharethe pain of the head." "you are a sly dog, sancho," said don quixote; "i faith, you haveno want of memory when you choose to remember." "if i were to try to forget the thwacks they gave me," saidsancho, "my weals would not let me, for they are still fresh on myribs." "hush, sancho," said don quixote, "and dont interrupt the bachelor,whom i entreat to go on and tell all that is said about me in thishistory." "and about me," said sancho, "for they say, too, that i am one ofthe principal presonages in it." "personages, not presonages, friend sancho," said samson. "what! another word-catcher!" said sancho; "if thats to be theway we shall not make an end in a lifetime." "may god shorten mine, sancho," returned the bachelor, "if you arenot the second person in the history, and there are even some whowould rather hear you talk than the cleverest in the whole book;though there are some, too, who say you showed yourself over-credulousin believing there was any possibility in the government of thatind offered you by senor don quixote." "there is still sunshine on the wall," said don quixote; "and whensancho is somewhat more advanced in life, with the experience thatyears bring, he will be fitter and better qualified for being agovernor than he is at present." "by god, master," said sancho, "the ind that i cannot govern withthe years i have, ill not be able to govern with the years ofmethush; the difficulty is that the said ind keeps itsdistance somewhere, i know not where; and not that there is any wantof head in me to govern it." "leave it to god, sancho," said don quixote, "for all will be andperhaps better than you think; no leaf on the tree stirs but bygods will." "that is true," said samson; "and if it be gods will, there willnot be any want of a thousand inds, much less one, for sancho togovern." "i have seen governors in these parts," said sancho, "that are notto bepared to my shoe-sole; and for all that they are called yourlordship and served on silver." "those are not governors of inds," observed samson, "but of othergovernments of an easier kind: those that govern inds must at leastknow grammar." "i could manage the gram well enough," said sancho; "but for the mari have neither leaning nor liking, for i dont know what it is; butleaving this matter of the government in gods hands, to send mewherever it may be most to his service, i may tell you, senor bachelorsamson carrasco, it has pleased me beyond measure that the author ofthis history should have spoken of me in such a way that what issaid of me gives no offence; for, on the faith of a true squire, if hehad said anything about me that was at all unbing an oldchristian, such as i am, the deaf would have heard of it." "that would be working miracles," said samson. "miracles or no miracles," said sancho, "let everyone mind how hespeaks or writes about people, and not set down at random the firstthing thates into his head." "one of the faults they find with this history," said thebachelor, "is that its author inserted in it a novel called theill-advised curiosity; not that it is bad or ill-told, but that it isout of ce and has nothing to do with the history of his worshipsenor don quixote." "i will bet the son of a dog has mixed the cabbages and thebaskets," said sancho. "then, i say," said don quixote, "the author of my history was nosage, but some ignorant ²åtterer, who, in a haphazard and heedlessway, set about writing it, let it turn out as it might, just asorbaneja, the painter of ubeda, used to do, who, when they asked himwhat he was painting, answered, what it may turn out. sometimes hewould paint a cock in such a fashion, and so unlike, that he had towrite alongside of it in gothic letters, this is a cock; and so itwill be with my history, which will require amentary to make itintelligible." "no fear of that," returned samson, "for it is so in that thereis nothing in it to puzzle over; the children turn its leaves, theyoung people read it, the grown men understand it, the old folk praiseit; in a word, it is so thumbed, and read, and got by heart bypeople of all sorts, that the instant they see any lean hack, theysay, there goes rocinante. and those that are most given toreading it are the pages, for there is not a lords ante-²åmber wherethere is not a don quixote to be found; one takes it up if anotheys it down; this one pounces upon it, and that begs for it. inshort, the said history is the most delightful and least injuriousentertainment that has been hitherto seen, for there is not to befound in the whole of it even the semnce of an immodest word, ora thought that is other than catholic."
µÚ105Ò³ "to write in any other way," said don quixote, "would not be towrite truth, but falsehood, and historians who have recourse tofalsehood ought to be burned, like those who coin false money; and iknow not what could have led the author to have recourse to novels andirrelevant stories, when he had so much to write about in mine; nodoubt he must have gone by the proverb with straw or with hay,&c., for by merely setting forth my thoughts, my sighs, my tears,my lofty purposes, my enterprises, he might have made a volume arge, orrger than all the works of el tostado would make up. infact, the conclusion i arrive at, senor bachelor, is, that to writehistories, or books of any kind, there is need of great judgment and aripe understanding. to give expression to humour, and write in astrain of graceful pleasantry, is the gift of great geniuses. thecleverest ²åracter inedy is the clown, for he who would makepeople take him for a fool, must not be one. history is in a measure asacred thing, for it should be true, and where the truth is, there godis; but notwithstanding this, there are some who write and fling booksbroadcast on the world as if they were fritters." "there is no book so bad but it has something good in it," saidthe bachelor. "no doubt of that," replied don quixote; "but it often happensthat those who have acquired and attained a well-deserved reputationby their writings, lose it entirely, or damage it in some degree, whenthey give them to the press." "the reason of that," said samson, "is, that as printed works areexamined leisurely, their faults are easily seen; and the greaterthe fame of the writer, the more closely are they scrutinised. menfamous for their genius, great poets, illustrious historians, arealways, or mostmonly, envied by those who take a particrdelight and pleasure in criticising the writings of others, withouthaving produced any of their own." "that is no wonder," said don quixote; "for there are many divineswho are no good for the pulpit, but excellent in detecting the defectsor excesses of those who preach." "all that is true, senor don quixote," said carrasco; "but i wishsuch fault-finders were more lenient and less exacting, and did notpay so much attention to the spots on the bright sun of the workthey grumble at; for if aliquando bonus dormitat homerus, theyshould remember how long he remained awake to Éäd the light of hiswork with as little shade as possible; and perhaps it may be that whatthey find fault with may be moles, that sometimes heighten thebeauty of the face that bears them; and so i say very great is therisk to which he who prints a book exposes himself, for of allimpossibilities the greatest is to write one that will satisfy andplease all readers." "that which treats of me must have pleased few," said don quixote. "quite the contrary," said the bachelor; "for, as stultoruminfinitum est numerus, innumerable are those who have reliÉäd thesaid history; but some have brought a ²årge against the authorsmemory, inasmuch as he forgot to say who the thief was who stolesanchos dapple; for it is not stated there, but only to be inferredfrom what is set down, that he was stolen, and a little farther onwe see sancho mounted on the same ass, without any reappearance of it.they say, too, that he forgot to state what sancho did with thosehundred crowns that he found in the valise in the sierra morena, as henever alludes to them again, and there are many who would be d toknow what he did with them, or what he spent them on, for it is one ofthe serious omissions of the work." "senor samson, i am not in a humour now for going into ounts orexnations," said sancho; "for theres a sinking of the stomacheover me, and unless i doctor it with a couple of sups of the old stuffit will put me on the thorn of santa lucia. i have it at home, andmy old woman is waiting for me; after dinner ille back, andwill answer you and all the world every question you may choose toask, as well about the loss of the ass as about the spending of thehundred crowns;" and without another word or waiting for a reply hemade off home. don quixote begged and entreated the bachelor to stay and do penancewith him. the bachelor epted the invitation and remained, acouple of young pigeons were added to the ordinary fare, at dinnerthey talked chivalry, carrasco fell in with his hosts humour, thebanquet came to an end, they took their afternoon sleep, sanchoreturned, and their conversation was resumed. ²åpter iv in which sancho panza gives a satisfactory reply to the doubts andquestions of the bachelor samson carrasco, together with other mattersworth knowing and telling sancho came back to don quixotes house, and returning to thetesubject of conversation, he said, "as to what senor samson said,that he would like to know by whom, or how, or when my ass was stolen,i say in reply that the same night we went into the sierra morena,flying from the holy brotherhood after that unlucky adventure of thegalley ves, and the other of the corpse that was going tosegovia, my master and i ensconced ourselves in a thicket, andthere, my master leaning on hisnce, and i seated on my dapple,battered and weary with thete frays we fell asleep as if it hadbeen on four feather mattresses; and i in particr slept so sound,that, whoever he was, he was able toe and prop me up on fourstakes, which he put under the four corners of the pack-saddle in su²å way that he left me mounted on it, and took away dapple from underme without my feeling it." "that is an easy matter," said don quixote, "and it is no newurrence, for the same thing happened to sacripante at the siegeof albra; the famous thief, brunello, by the same contrivance, tookhis horse from between his legs." "day came," continued sancho, "and the moment i stirred the stakesgave way and i fell to the ground with a mightye down; i lookedabout for the ass, but could not see him; the tears ruÉäd to myeyes and i raised such amentation that, if the author of ourhistory has not put it in, he may depend upon it he has left out agood thing. some days after, i know not how many, travelling withherdyship the princess micona, i saw my ass, and mounted uponhim, in the dress of a gipsy, was that gines de pasamonte, the greatrogue and rascal that my master and i freed from the ²åin." "that is not where the mistake is," replied samson; "it is, thatbefore the ass has turned up, the author speaks of sancho as beingmounted on it." "i dont know what to say to that," said sancho, "unless that thehistorian made a mistake, or perhaps it might be a blunder of theprinters." "no doubt thats it," said samson; "but what became of the hundredcrowns? did they vanish?" to which sancho answered, "i spent them for my own good, and mywifes, and my childrens, and it is they that have made my wifebear so patiently all my wanderings on highways and byways, in theservice of my master, don quixote; for if after all this time i hae back to the house without a rap and without the ass, it wouldhave been a poor look-out for me; and if anyone wants to know anythingmore about me, here i am, ready to answer the king himself inperson; and it is no affair of anyones whether i took or did nottake, whether i spent or did not spend; for the whacks that were givenme in these journeys were to be paid for in money, even if they werevalued at no more than four maravedis apiece, another hundred crownswould not pay me for half of them. let each look to himself and nottry to make out white ck, and ck white; for each of us is as godmade him, aye, and often worse." "i will take care," said carrasco, "to impress upon the author ofthe history that, if he prints it again, he must not forget whatworthy sancho has said, for it will raise it a good span higher." "is there anything else to correct in the history, senorbachelor?" asked don quixote. "no doubt there is," replied he; "but not anything that will be ofthe same importance as those i have mentioned." "does the author promise a second part at all?" said don quixote. "he does promise one," replied samson; "but he says he has not foundit, nor does he know who has got it; and we cannot say whether it wippear or not; and so, on that head, as some say that no second parthas ever been good, and others that enough has been already writtenabout don quixote, it is thought there will be no second part;though some, who are jovial rather than saturnine, say, let us havemore quixotades, let don quixote ²årge and sancho ²åtter, and nomatter what it may turn out, we shall be satisfied with that." "and what does the author mean to do?" said don quixote. "what?" replied samson; "why, as soon as he has found the historywhich he is now searching for with extraordinary diligence, he will atonce give it to the press, moved more by the profit that may rue tohim from doing so than by any thought of praise." whereat sancho observed, "the author looks for money and profit,does he? it will he a wonder if he seeds, for it will be onlyhurry, hurry, with him, like the tailor on easter eve; and worksdone in a hurry are never finiÉäd as perfectly as they ought to be.let master moor, or whatever he is, pay attention to what he is doing,and i and my master will give him as much grouting ready to hishand, in the way of adventures and idents of all sorts, as wouldmake up not only one second part, but a hundred. the good man fancies,no doubt, that we are fast asleep in the straw here, but let himhold up our feet to be shod and he will see which foot it is we gme on. all i say is, that if my master would take my advice, wewould be now afield, redressing outrages and righting wrongs, as isthe use and custom of good knights-errant."
µÚ106Ò³ sancho had hardly uttered these words when the neighing of rocinantefell upon their ears, which neighing don quixote epted as a happyomen, and he resolved to make another sally in three or four days fromthat time. announcing his intention to the bachelor, he asked hisadvice as to the quarter in which he ought tomence his expedition,and the bachelor replied that in his opinion he ought to go to thekingdom of aragon, and the city of saragossa, where there were to becertain solemn joustings at the festival of st. george, at which hemight win renown above all the knights of aragon, which would bewinning it above all the knights of the world. hemended his verypraiseworthy and gant resolution, but admoniÉäd him to proceedwith greater caution in encountering dangers, because his life did notbelong to him, but to all those who had need of him to protect and aidthem in their misfortunes. "theres where it is, what i abominate, senor samson," said sanchohere; "my master will attack a hundred armed men as a greedy boy wouldhalf a dozen melons. body of the world, senor bachelor! there is atime to attack and a time to retreat, and it is not to be alwayssantiago, and close spain! moreover, i have heard it said £¨and ithink by my master himself, if i remember rightly£© that the mean ofvalour lies between the extremes of cowardice and rashness; and ifthat be so, i dont want him to fly without having good reason, orto attack when the odds make it better not. but, above all things, iwarn my master that if he is to take me with him it must be on thecondition that he is to do all the fighting, and that i am not to becalled upon to do anything except what concerns keeping him cleanandfortable; in this i will dance attendance on him readily; butto expect me to draw sword, even against rascally churls of thehatchet and hood, is idle. i dont set up to be a fighting man,senor samson, but only the best and most loyal squire that ever servedknight-errant; and if my master don quixote, in consideration of mymany faithful services, is pleased to give me some ind of themany his worship says one may stumble on in these parts, i will takeit as a great favour; and if he does not give it to me, i was bornlike everyone else, and a man must not live in dependence on anyoneexcept god; and what is more, my bread will taste as well, and perhapseven better, without a government than if i were a governor; and howdo i know but that in these governments the devil may have preparedsome trip for me, to make me lose my footing and fall and knock mygrinders out? sancho i was born and sancho i mean to die. but forall that, if heaven were to make me a fair offer of an ind orsomething else of the kind, without much trouble and without muchrisk, i am not such a fool as to refuse it; for they say, too, whenthey offer thee a heifer, run with a halter; and when good luckesto thee, take it in." "brother sancho," said carrasco, "you have spoken like aprofessor; but, for all that, put your trust in god and in senor donquixote, for he will give you a kingdom, not to say an ind." "it is all the same, be it more or be it less," replied sancho;"though i can tell senor carrasco that my master would not throw thekingdom he might give me into a sack all in holes; for i have feltmy own pulse and i find myself sound enough to rule kingdoms andgovern inds; and i have before now told my master as much." "take care, sancho," said samson; "honours ²ånge manners, andperhaps when you find yourself a governor you wont know the motherthat bore you." "that may hold good of those that are born in the ditches," saidsancho, "not of those who have the fat of an old christian fourfingers deep on their souls, as i have. nay, only look at mydisposition, is that likely to show ingratitude to anyone?" "god grant it," said don quixote; "we shall see when thegovernmentes; and i seem to see it already." he then begged the bachelor, if he were a poet, to do him the favourofposing some verses for him conveying the farewell he meant totake of hisdy dulcinea del toboso, and to see that a letter ofher name was ced at the beginning of each line, so that, at the endof the verses, "dulcinea del toboso" might be read by putting togetherthe first letters. the bachelor replied that although he was not oneof the famous poets of spain, who were, they said, only three and ahalf, he would not fail topose the required verses; though hesaw a great difficulty in the task, as the letters which made up thename were seventeen; so, if he made four bad stanzas of fourlines each, there would be a letter over, and if he made them of five,what they called decimas or redondis, there were three lettersshort; nevertheless he would try to drop a letter as well as he could,so that the name "dulcinea del toboso" might be got into four badstanzas. "it must be, by some means or other," said don quixote, "forunless the name stands there in and manifest, no woman wouldbelieve the verses were made for her." they agreed upon this, and that the departure should take ce inthree days from that time. don quixote ²årged the bachelor to keep ita secret, especially from the curate and master nichs, and from hisniece and the housekeeper, lest they should prevent the execution ofhis praiseworthy and valiant purpose. carrasco promised all, andthen took his leave, ²årging don quixote to inform him of his good orevil fortunes whenever he had an opportunity; and thus they badeeach other farewell, and sancho went away to make the necessarypreparations for their expedition. ²åpter v of the shrewd and droll conversation that passed between sanchopanza and his wife teresa panza, and other matters worthy of beingduly recorded the trantor of this history, when hees to write this fifth²åpter, says that he considers it apocryphal, because in it sanchopanza speaks in a style unlike that which might have been expectedfrom his limited intelligence, and says things so subtle that hedoes not think it possible he could have conceived them; however,desirous of doing what his task imposed upon him, he was unwillingto leave it untranted, and therefore he went on to say: sancho came home in such glee and spirits that his wife noticedhis happiness a bowshot off, so much so that it made her ask him,"what have you got, sancho friend, that you are so d?" to which he replied, "wife, if it were gods will, i should bevery d not to be so well pleased as i show myself." "i dont understand you, husband," said Éä, "and i dont knowwhat you mean by saying you would be d, if it were gods will,not to be well pleased; for, fool as i am, i dont know how one canfind pleasure in not having it." "hark ye, teresa," replied sancho, "i am d because i have made upmy mind to go back to the service of my master don quixote, whomeans to go out a third time to seek for adventures; and i am goingwith him again, for my necessities will have it so, and also thehope that cheers me with the thought that i may find another hundredcrowns like those we have spent; though it makes me sad to have toleave thee and the children; and if god would be pleased to let mehave my daily bread, dry-shod and at home, without taking me outinto the byways and cross-roads- and he could do it at small cost bymerely willing it- it is clear my happiness would be more solid ansting, for the happiness i have is mingled with sorrow at leavingthee; so that i was right in saying i would be d, if it weregods will, not to be well pleased." "look here, sancho," said teresa; "ever since you joined on to aknight-errant you talk in such a roundabout way that there is nounderstanding you." "it is enough that god understands me, wife," replied sancho; "forhe is the understander of all things; that will do; but mind,sister, you must look to dapple carefully for the next three days,so that he may be fit to take arms; double his feed, and see to thepack-saddle and other harness, for it is not to a wedding we arebound, but to go round the world, and y at give and take withgiants and dragons and monsters, and hear hissings and roarings andbellowings and howlings; and even all this would bevender, if wehad not to reckon with yanguesans and en²ånted moors." "i know well enough, husband," said teresa, "that squires-errantdont eat their bread for nothing, and so i will be always prayingto our lord to deliver you speedily from all that hard fortune." "i can tell you, wife," said sancho, "if i did not expect to seemyself governor of an ind before long, i would drop down dead onthe spot." "nay, then, husband," said teresa; "let the hen live, though it bewith her pip, live, and let the devil take all the governments inthe world; you came out of your mothers womb without a government,you have lived until now without a government, and when it is godswill you will go, or be carried, to your grave without a government.how many there are in the world who live without a government, andcontinue to live all the same, and are reckoned in the number of thepeople. the best sauce in the world is hunger, and as the poor arenever without that, they always eat with a relish. but mind, sancho,if by good luck you should find yourself with some government, dontforget me and your children. remember that sanchico is now fullfifteen, and it is right he should go to school, if his uncle theabbot has a mind to have him trained for the church. consider, too,that your daughter mari-san²å will not die of grief if we marryher; for i have my suspicions that Éä is as eager to get a husband asyou to get a government; and, after all, a daughter looks better illmarried than well whored."
µÚ107Ò³ "by my faith," replied sancho, "if god brings me to get any sortof a government, i intend, wife, to make such a high match formari-san²å that there will be no approaching her without callingher mydy." "nay, sancho," returned teresa; "marry her to her equal, that is thesafest n; for if you put her out of wooden clogs into high-heeledshoes, out of her grey nnel petticoat into hoops and silk gowns,out of the in marica and thou, into dona so-and-so and mdy, the girl wont know where Éä is, and at every turn Éä willfall into a thousand blunders that will show the thread of hercoarse homespun stuff." "tut, you fool," said sancho; "it will be only to practise it fortwo or three years; and then dignity and decorum will fit her aseasily as a glove; and if not, what matter? let her he mydy,and never mind what happens." "keep to your own station, sancho," replied teresa; "dont try toraise yourself higher, and bear in mind the proverb that says, wipethe nose of your neigbbours son, and take him into your house. afine thing it would be, indeed, to marry our maria to some great countor grand gentleman, who, when the humour took him, would abuse her andcall her clown-bred and clodhoppers daughter and spinning wench. ihave not been bringing up my daughter for that all this time, i cantell you, husband. do you bring home money, sancho, and leave marryingher to my care; there is lope tocho, juan tochos son, a stout, sturdyyoung fellow that we know, and i can see he does not look sour atthe girl; and with him, one of our own sort, Éä will be well married,and we shall have her always under our eyes, and be all one family,parents and children, grandchildren and sons-inw, and the peace andblessing of god will dwell among us; so dont you go marrying her inthose courts and grand pces where they wont know what to make ofher, or Éä what to make of herself." "why, you idiot and wife for barabbas," said sancho, "what do youmean by trying, without why or wherefore, to keep me from marryingmy daughter to one who will give me grandchildren that will becalled your lordship? look ye, teresa, i have always heard my elderssay that he who does not know how to take advantage of luck when ies to him, has no right toin if it gives him the go-by;and now that it is knocking at our door, it will not do to shut itout; let us go with the favouring breeze that blows upon us." it is this sort of talk, and what sancho says lower down, thatmade the trantor of the history say he considered this ²åpterapocryphal. "dont you see, you animal," continued sancho, "that it will be wellfor me to drop into some profitable government that will lift us outof the mire, and marry mari-san²å to whom i like; and you yourselfwill find yourself called dona teresa panza, and sitting in churchon a fine carpet and cushions and draperies, in spite and indefiance of all the borndies of the town? no, stay as you are,growing neither greater nor less, like a tapestry figure- let us sayno more about it, for sanchica shall be a countess, say what youwill." "are you sure of all you say, husband?" replied teresa. "well, forall that, i am afraid this rank of countess for my daughter will beher ruin. you do as you like, make a duchess or a princess of her, buti can tell you it will not be with my will and consent. i was always alover of equality, brother, and i cant bear to see people givethemselves airs without any right. they called me teresa at mybaptism, a in, simple name, without any additions or tags orfringes of dons or donas; cascajo was my fathers name, and as i amyour wife, i am called teresa panza, though by right i ought to hecalled teresa cascajo; but kings go wherews like, and i amcontent with this name without having the don put on top of it tomake it so heavy that i cannot carry it; and i dont want to makepeople talk about me when they see me go dressed like a countess orgovernors wife; for they will say at once, see what airs the slutgives herself! only yesterday Éä was always spinning x, and usedto go to mass with the tail of her petticoat over her head insteadof a mantle, and there Éä goes to-day in a hooped gown with herbroaches and airs, as if we didnt know her! if god keeps me in myseven senses, or five, or whatever number i have, i am not going tobring myself to such a pass; go you, brother, and be a government oran ind man, and swagger as much as you like; for by the soul ofmy mother, neither my daughter nor i are going to stir a step from ourvige; a respectable woman should have a broken leg and keep athome; and to he busy at something is a virtuous damsels holiday; beoff to your adventures along with your don quixote, and leave us toour misadventures, for god will mend them for us ording as wedeserve it. i dont know, im sure, who fixed the don to him, whatneither his father nor grandfather ever had." "i dere thou hast a devil of some sort in thy body!" said sancho."god help thee, what a lot of things thou hast strung together, oneafter the other, without head or tail! what have cascajo, and thebroaches and the proverbs and the airs, to do with what i say? lookhere, fool and dolt £¨for so i may call you, when you dontunderstand my words, and run away from good fortune£©£¬ if i had saidthat my daughter was to throw herself down from a tower, or go roamingthe world, as the infanta dona urraca wanted to do, you would be rightin not giving way to my will; but if in an instant, in less than thetwinkling of an eye, i put the don and mydy on her back, andtake her out of the stubble, and ce her under a canopy, on adais, and on a couch, with more velvet cushions than all the almohadesof moro ever had in their family, why wont you consent and fall inwith my wiÉäs?" "do you know why, husband?" replied teresa; "because of theproverb that says who covers thee, discovers thee. at the poor manpeople only throw a hasty nce; on the rich man they fix their eyes;and if the said rich man was once on a time poor, it is then thereis the sneering and the tattle and spite of backbiters; and in thestreets here they swarm as thick as bees." "look here, teresa," said sancho, "and listen to what i am now goingto say to you; maybe you never heard it in all your life; and i do notgive my own notions, for what i am about to say are the opinions ofhis reverence the preacher, who preached in this townst lent, andwho said, if i remember rightly, that all things present that our eyesbehold, bring themselves before us, and remain and fix themselves onour memory much better and more forcibly than things past." these observations which sancho makes here are the other ones onount of which the trantor says he regards this ²åpter asapocryphal, inasmuch as they are beyond sanchos capacity. "whence it arises," he continued, "that when we see any personwell dressed and making a figure with rich garments and retinue ofservants, it seems to lead and impel us perforce to respect him,though memory may at the same moment recall to us some lowly conditionin which we have seen him, but which, whether it may have been povertyor low birth, being now a thing of the past, has no existence; whilethe only thing that has any existence is what we see before us; and ifthis person whom fortune has raised from his original lowly state£¨these were the very words the padre used£© to his present height ofprosperity, be well bred, generous, courteous to all, withoutseeking to vie with those whose nobility is of ancient date, dependupon it, teresa, no one will remember what he was, and everyone willrespect what he is, except indeed the envious, from whom no fairfortune is safe." "i do not understand you, husband," replied teresa; "do as you like,and dont break my head with any more speechifying and rethoric; andif you have revolved to do what you say-" "resolved, you should say, woman," said sancho, "not revolved." "dont set yourself to wrangle with me, husband," said teresa; "ispeak as god pleases, and dont deal in out-of-the-way phrases; andi say if you are bent upon having a government, take your son sanchowith you, and teach him from this time on how to hold a government;for sons ought to inherit and learn the trades of their fathers." "as soon as i have the government," said sancho, "i will send forhim by post, and i will send thee money, of which i shall have nck, for there is never any want of people to lend it to governorswhen they have not got it; and do thou dress him so as to hide what heis and make him look what he is to be." "you send the money," said teresa, "and ill dress him up for you asfine as you please." "then we are agreed that our daughter is to be a countess," saidsancho. "the day that i see her a countess," replied teresa, "it will be thesame to me as if i was burying her; but once more i say do as youplease, for we women are born to this burden of being obedient toour husbands, though they be dogs;" and with this Éä began to weep inearnest, as if Éä already saw sanchica dead and buried. sancho consoled her by saying that though he must make her acountess, he would put it off as long as possible. here theirconversation came to an end, and sancho went back to see donquixote, and make arrangements for their departure.
µÚ108Ò³ ²åpter vi of what took ce between don quixote and his niece andhousekeeper; one of the most important ²åpters in the whole history while sancho panza and his wife, teresa cascajo, held the aboveirrelevant conversation, don quixotes niece and housekeeper werenot idle, for by a thousand signs they began to perceive that theiruncle and master meant to give them the slip the third time, andonce more betake himself to his, for them, ill-errant chivalry. theystrove by all the means in their power to divert him from such anunlucky scheme; but it was all preaching in the desert and hammeringcold iron. nevertheless, among many other representations made to him,the housekeeper said to him, "in truth, master, if you do not keepstill and stay quiet at home, and give over roaming mountains andvalleys like a troubled spirit, looking for what they say are calledadventures, but what i call misfortunes, i shall have to makint to god and the king with loud supplication to send someremedy." to which don quixote replied, "what answer god will give to youints, housekeeper, i know not, nor what his majesty winswer either; i only know that if i were king i should decline toanswer the numberless silly petitions they present every day; forone of the greatest among the many troubles kings have is beingobliged to listen to all and answer all, and therefore i should besorry that any affairs of mine should worry him." whereupon the housekeeper said, "tell us, senor, at his majestyscourt are there no knights?" "there are," replied don quixote, "and plenty of them; and it isright there should be, to set off the dignity of the prince, and forthe greater glory of the kings majesty." "then might not your worship," said Éä, "be one of those that,without stirring a step, serve their king and lord in his court?" "recollect, my friend," said don quixote, "all knights cannot becourtiers, nor can all courtiers be knights-errant, nor need theybe. there must be all sorts in the world; and though we may be allknights, there is a great difference between one and another; forthe courtiers, without quitting their ²åmbers, or the threshold ofthe court, range the world over by looking at a map, without itscosting them a farthing, and without suffering heat or cold, hunger orthirst; but we, the true knights-errant, measure the whole earthwith our own feet, exposed to the sun, to the cold, to the air, to theinclemencies of heaven, by day and night, on foot and on horseback;nor do we only know enemies in pictures, but in their own real shapes;and at all risks and on all asions we attack them, without anyregard to childish points or rules of singlebat, whether one hasor has not a shorternce or sword, whether one carries relics or anysecret contrivance about him, whether or not the sun is to bedivided and portioned out, and other niceties of the sort that areobserved in setbats of man to man, that you know nothing about,but i do. and you must know besides, that the true knight-errant,though he may see ten giants, that not only touch the clouds withtheir heads but pierce them, and that go, each of them, on two talltowers by way of legs, and whose arms are like the masts of mightyships, and each eye like a great mill-wheel, and glowing brighter thana ss furnace, must not on any ount be dismayed by them. on thecontrary, he must attack and fall upon them with a gant bearing anda fearless heart, and, if possible, vanquish and destroy them, eventhough they have for armour the Éälls of a certain fish, that theysay are harder than diamonds, and in ce of swords wield tren²åntdes of damascus steel, or clubs studded with spikes also ofsteel, such as i have more than once seen. all this i say,housekeeper, that you may see the difference there is between theone sort of knight and the other; and it would be well if there wereno prince who did not set a higher value on this second, or moreproperly speaking first, kind of knights-errant; for, as we read intheir histories, there have been some among them who have been thesalvation, not merely of one kingdom, but of many." "ah, senor," here eximed the niece, "remember that all this youare saying about knights-errant is fable and fiction; and theirhistories, if indeed they were not burned, would deserve, each ofthem, to have a sambenito put on it, or some mark by which it might beknown as infamous and a corrupter of good manners." "by the god that gives me life," said don quixote, "if thou wert notmy full niece, being daughter of my own sister, i would inflict a²åstisement upon thee for the sphemy thou hast uttered that allthe world should ring with. what! can it be that a young hussy thathardly knows how to handle a dozence-bobbins dares to wag hertongue and criticise the histories of knights-errant? what would senoramadis say if he heard of such a thing? he, however, no doubt wouldforgive thee, for he was the most humble-minded and courteous knightof his time, and moreover a great protector of damsels; but some thereare that might have heard thee, and it would not have been well forthee in that case; for they are not all courteous or mannerly; someare ill-conditioned scoundrels; nor is it everyone that callshimself a gentleman, that is so in all respects; some are gold, otherspinchbeck, and all look like gentlemen, but not all can stand thetouchstone of truth. there are men of low rank who strain themselvesto bursting to pass for gentlemen, and high gentlemen who, one wouldfancy, were dying to pass for men of low rank; the former raisethemselves by their ambition or by their virtues, thetter debasethemselves by theirck of spirit or by their vices; and one has needof experience and discernment to distinguish these two kinds ofgentlemen, so much alike in name and so different in conduct." "god bless me!" said the niece, "that you should know so much,uncle- enough, if need be, to get up into a pulpit and go preach inthe streets -and yet that you should fall into a delusion so great anda folly so manifest as to try to make yourself out vigorous when youare old, strong when you are sickly, able to put straight what iscrooked when you yourself are bent by age, and, above all, a caballerowhen you are not one; for though gentlefolk may he so, poor men arenothing of the kind!" "there is a great deal of truth in what you say, niece," returneddon quixote, "and i could tell you somewhat about birth that wouldastonish you; but, not to mix up things human and divine, i refrain.look you, my dears, all the lineages in the world £¨attend to what i amsaying£© can be reduced to four sorts, which are these: those thathad humble beginnings, and went on spreading and extendingthemselves until they attained surpassing greatness; those that hadgreat beginnings and maintained them, and still maintain and upholdthe greatness of their origin; those, again, that from a greatbeginning have ended in a point like a pyramid, having reduced andlessened their original greatness till it hase to nought, like thepoint of a pyramid, which, rtively to its base or foundation, isnothing; and then there are those- and it is they that are the mostnumerous- that have had neither an illustrious beginning nor aremarkable mid-course, and so will have an end without a name, like anordinary plebeian line. of the first, those that had an humbleorigin and rose to the greatness they still preserve, the ottomanhouse may serve as an example, which from an humble and lowlyÉäpherd, its founder, has reached the height at which we now seeit. for examples of the second sort of lineage, that began withgreatness and maintains it still without adding to it, there are themany princes who have inherited the dignity, and maintain themselvesin their inheritance, without increasing or diminishing it, keepingpeacefully within the limits of their states. of those that begangreat and ended in a point, there are thousands of examples, for allthe pharaohs and ptolemies of egypt, the caesars of rome, and thewhole herd £¨if i may such a word to them£© of countless princes,monarchs, lords, medes, assyrians, persians, greeks, and barbarians,all these lineages and lordships have ended in a point ande tonothing, they themselves as well as their founders, for it would beimpossible now to find one of their descendants, and, even should wefind one, it would be in some lowly and humble condition. ofplebeian lineages i have nothing to say, save that they merely serveto swell the number of those that live, without any eminence toentitle them to any fame or praise beyond this. from all i have said iwould have you gather, my poor innocents, that great is theconfusion among lineages, and that only those are seen to be great andillustrious that show themselves so by the virtue, wealth, andgenerosity of their possessors. i have said virtue, wealth, andgenerosity, because a great man who is vicious will be a great exampleof vice, and a rich man who is not generous will be merely a miserlybeggar; for the possessor of wealth is not made happy by possessingit, but by spending it, and not by spending as he pleases, but byknowing how to spend it well. the poor gentleman has no way of showingthat he is a gentleman but by virtue, by being affable, well-bred,courteous, gentle-mannered, and kindly, not haughty, arrogant, orcensorious, but above all by being ²åritable; for by two maravedisgiven with a cheerful heart to the poor, he will show himself asgenerous as he who distributes alms with bell-ringing, and no one thatperceives him to be endowed with the virtues i have named, even thoughhe know him not, will fail to recognise and set him down as one ofgood blood; and it would be strange were it not so; praise has everbeen the reward of virtue, and those who are virtuous cannot fail toreceivemendation. there are two roads, my daughters, by whichmen may reach wealth and honours; one is that of letters, the otherthat of arms. i have more of arms than of letters in myposition,and, judging by my inclination to arms, was born under the influenceof the mars. i am, therefore, in a measure constrained tofollow that road, and by it i must travel in spite of all the world,and it will bebour in vain for you to urge me to resist what heavenwills, fate ordains, reason requires, and, above all, my owninclination favours; for knowing as i do the countless toils thatare the apaniments of knight-errantry, i know, too, the infiniteblessings that are attained by it; i know that the path of virtue isvery narrow, and the road of vice broad and spacious; i know theirends and goals are different, for the broad and easy road of vice endsin death, and the narrow and toilsome one of virtue in life, and nottransitory life, but in that which has no end; i know, as our greatcastilian poet says, that-
µÚ109Ò³ it is by rugged paths like these they go that scale the heights of immortality, unreached by those that falter here below." "woe is me!" eximed the niece, "my lord is a poet, too! heknows everything, and he can do everything; i will bet, if he chose toturn mason, he could make a house as easily as a cage." "i can tell you, niece," replied don quixote, "if these chivalrousthoughts did not engage all my faculties, there would be nothingthat i could not do, nor any sort of knickknack that would notefrom my hands, particrly cages and tooth-picks." at this moment there came a knocking at the door, and when theyasked who was there, sancho panza made answer that it was he. theinstant the housekeeper knew who it was, Éä ran to hide herself so asnot to see him; in such abhorrence did Éä hold him. the niece let himin, and his master don quixote came forward to receive him with openarms, and the pair shut themselves up in his room, where they hadanother conversation not inferior to the previous one.²åpter vii of what passed between don quixote and his squire, together withother very notable incidents the instant the housekeeper saw sancho panza shut himself in withher master, Éä guessed what they were about; and suspecting thatthe result of the consultation would be a resolve to undertake a thirdsally, Éä seized her mantle, and in deep anxiety and distress, ran tofind the bachelor samson carrasco, as Éä thought that, being awell-spoken man, and a new friend of her masters, he might be able topersuade him to give up any such crazy notion. Éä found him pacingthe patio of his house, and, perspiring and flurried, Éä fell athis feet the moment Éä saw him. carrasco, seeing how distressed and ovee Éä was, said to her,"what is this, mistress housekeeper? what has happened to you? onewould think you heart-broken." "nothing, senor samson," said Éä, "only that my master isbreaking out, inly breaking out." "whereabouts is he breaking out, senora?" asked samson; "has anypart of his body burst?" "he is only breaking out at the door of his madness," Éä replied;"i mean, dear senor bachelor, that he is going to break out again £¨andthis will be the third time£© to hunt all over the world for what hecalls ventures, though i cant make out why he gives them that name.the first time he was brought back to us slung across the back of anass, and bboured all over; and the second time he came in anox-cart, shut up in a cage, in which he persuaded himself he wasen²ånted, and the poor creature was in such a state that the motherthat bore him would not have known him; lean, yellow, with his eyessunk deep in the cells of his skull; so that to bring him round again,ever so little, cost me more than six hundred eggs, as god knows,and all the world, and my hens too, that wont let me tell a lie." "that i can well believe," replied the bachelor, "for they are sogood and so fat, and so well-bred, that they would not say one thingfor another, though they were to burst for it. in short then, mistresshousekeeper, that is all, and there is nothing the matter, except whatit is feared don quixote may do?" "no, senor," said Éä. "well then," returned the bachelor, "dont be uneasy, but go home inpeace; get me ready something hot for breakfast, and while you areon the way say the prayer of santa apollonia, that is if you knowit; for i wille presently and you will see miracles." "woe is me," cried the housekeeper, "is it the prayer of santaapollonia you would have me say? that would do if it was the toothachemy master had; but it is in the brains, what he has got." "i know what i am saying, mistress housekeeper; go, and dont setyourself to argue with me, for you know i am a bachelor ofsmanca, and one cant be more of a bachelor than that," repliedcarrasco; and with this the housekeeper retired, and the bachelor wentto look for the curate, and arrange with him what will be told inits proper ce. while don quixote and sancho were shut up together, they had adiscussion which the history records with great precision andscrupulous exactness. sancho said to his master, "senor, i have educedmy wife to let me go with your worship wherever you choose to takeme." "induced, you should say, sancho," said don quixote; "not educed." "once or twice, as well as i remember," replied sancho, "i havebegged of your worship not to mend my words, if so be as youunderstand what i mean by them; and if you dont understand them tosay sancho, or devil, i dont understand thee; and if i dontmake my meaning in, then you may correct me, for i am so focile-" "i dont understand thee, sancho," said don quixote at once; "fori know not what i am so focile means." "so focile means i am so much that way," replied sancho. "i understand thee still less now," said don quixote. "well, if you cant understand me," said sancho, "i dont know howto put it; i know no more, god help me." "oh, now i have hit it," said don quixote; "thou wouldst say thouart so docile, tractable, and gentle that thou wilt take what i say tothee, and submit to what i teach thee." "i would bet," said sancho, "that from the very first you understoodme, and knew what i meant, but you wanted to put me out that you mighthear me make another couple of dozen blunders." "may be so," replied don quixote; "but toe to the point, whatdoes teresa say?" "teresa says," replied sancho, "that i should make sure with yourworship, and let papers speak and beards be still, for he who bindsdoes not wrangle, since one take is better than two ill givethees; and i say a womans advice is no great thing, and he whowont take it is a fool." "and so say i," said don quixote; "continue, sancho my friend; goon; you talk pearls to-day." "the fact is," continued sancho, "that, as your worship knows betterthan i do, we are all of us liable to death, and to-day we are, andto-morrow we are not, and themb goes as soon as the Éäep, andnobody can promise himself more hours of life in this world than godmay be pleased to give him; for death is deaf, and when ites toknock at our lifes door, it is always urgent, and neither prayers,nor struggles, nor sceptres, nor mitres, can keep it back, asmontalk and report say, and as they tell us from the pulpits every day." "all that is very true," said don quixote; "but i cannot make outwhat thou art driving at." "what i am driving at," said sancho, "is that your worship settlesome fixed wages for me, to be paid monthly while i am in yourservice, and that the same he paid me out of your estate; for idont care to stand on rewards which eitherete, or ill, ornever at all; god help me with my own. in short, i would like toknow what i am to get, be it much or little; for the hen willy onone egg, and many littles make a much, and so long as one gainssomething there is nothing lost. to he sure, if it should happen £¨whati neither believe nor expect£© that your worship were to give me thatind you have promised me, i am not so ungrateful nor so graspingbut that i would be willing to have the revenue of such indvalued and stopped out of my wages in due promotion." "sancho, my friend," replied don quixote, "sometimes proportionmay be as good as promotion." "i see," said sancho; "ill bet i ought to have said proportion, andnot promotion; but it is no matter, as your worship has understoodme." "and so well understood," returned don quixote, "that i have seeninto the depths of thy thoughts, and know the mark thou art shootingat with the countless shafts of thy proverbs. look here, sancho, iwould readily fix thy wages if i had ever found any instance in thehistories of the knights-errant to show or indicate, by theslightest hint, what their squires used to get monthly or yearly;but i have read all or the best part of their histories, and icannot remember reading of any knight-errant having assigned fixedwages to his squire; i only know that they all served on reward, andthat when they least expected it, if good luck attended their masters,they found themselves rpensed with an ind or somethingequivalent to it, or at the least they were left with a title andlordship. if with these hopes and additional inducements you,sancho, please to return to my service, well and good; but tosuppose that i am going to disturb or unhinge the ancient usage ofknight-errantry, is all nonsense. and so, my sancho, get you back toyour house and exin my intentions to your teresa, and if Éälikes and you like to be on reward with me, bene quidem; if not, weremain friends; for if the pigeon-house does notck food, it willnotck pigeons; and bear in mind, my son, that a good hope is betterthan a bad holding, and a good grievance better than a bapensation. i speak in this way, sancho, to show you that i canshower down proverbs just as well as yourself; and in short, i mean tosay, and i do say, that if you dont like toe on reward with me,and run the same ²ånce that i run, god be with you and make a saintof you; for i shall find plenty of squires more obedient andpainstaking, and not so thickheaded or talkative as you are."
µÚ110Ò³ when sancho heard his masters firm, resolutenguage, a cloud cameover the sky with him and the wings of his heart drooped, for he hadmade sure that his master would not go without him for all thewealth of the world; and as he stood there dumbfoundered and moody,samson carrasco came in with the housekeeper and niece, who wereanxious to hear by what arguments he was about to dissuade theirmaster from going to seek adventures. the arch wag samson cameforward, and embracing him as he had done before, said with a loudvoice, "o flower of knight-errantry! o shining light of arms! o honourand mirror of the spanish nation! may god almighty in his infinitepower grant that any person or persons, who would impede or hinder thythird sally, may find no way out of thebyrinth of their schemes,nor ever aplish what they most desire!" and then, turning to thehousekeeper, he said, "mistress housekeeper may just as well give oversaying the prayer of santa apollonia, for i know it is the positivedetermination of the spheres that senor don quixote shall proceed toput into execution his new and lofty designs; and i shouldy a heavyburden on my conscience did i not urge and persuade this knight not tokeep the might of his strong arm and the virtue of his valiantspirit any longer curbed and checked, for by his inactivity he isdefrauding the world of the redress of wrongs, of the protection oforphans, of the honour of virgins, of the aid of widows, and of thesupport of wives, and other matters of this kind appertaining,belonging, proper and peculiar to the order of knight-errantry. on,then, my lord don quixote, beautiful and brave, let your worship andhighness set out to-day rather than to-morrow; and if anything beneeded for the execution of your purpose, here am i ready in personand purse to supply the want; and were it requisite to attend yourmagnificence as squire, i should esteem it the happiest good fortune." at this, don quixote, turning to sancho, said, "did i not tell thee,sancho, there would be squires enough and to spare for me? see now whooffers to be one; no less than the illustrious bachelor samsoncarrasco, the perpetual joy and delight of the courts of thesmancan schools, sound in body, discreet, patient under heat orcold, hunger or thirst, with all the qualifications requisite tomake a knight-errants squire! but heaven forbid that, to gratify myown inclination, i should shake or shatter this pir of lettersand vessel of the sciences, and cut down this towering palm of thefair and liberal arts. let this new samson remain in his owncountry, and, bringing honour to it, bring honour at the same timeon the grey heads of his venerable parents; for i will be content withany squire thates to hand, as sancho does not deign to apanyme." "i do deign," said sancho, deeply moved and with tears in hiseyes; "it shall not be said of me, master mine," he continued, "thebread eaten and thepany dispersed. nay, ie of no ungratefulstock, for all the world knows, but particrly my own town, whothe panzas from whom i am descended were; and, what is more, i knowand have learned, by many good words and deeds, your worshipsdesire to show me favour; and if i have been bargaining more or lessabout my wages, it was only to please my wife, who, when Éä setÉärself to press a point, no hammer drives the hoops of a cask asÉä drives one to do what Éä wants; but, after all, a man must be aman, and a woman a woman; and as i am a man anyhow, which i cantdeny, i will be one in my own house too, let who will take it amiss;and so theres nothing more to do but for your worship to make yourwill with its codicil in such a way that it cant be provoked, and letus set out at once, to save senor samsons soul from suffering, aÉä says his conscience obliges him to persuade your worship to sallyout upon the world a third time; so i offer again to serve yourworship faithfully and loyally, as well and better than all thesquires that served knights-errant in times past or present." the bachelor was filled with amazement when he heard sanchosphraseology and style of talk, for though he had read the first partof his masters history he never thought that he could be so dros he was there described; but now, hearing him talk of a "will andcodicil that could not be provoked," instead of "will and codicil thatcould not be revoked," he believed all he had read of him, and set himdown as one of the greatest simpletons of modern times; and he said tohimself that two such lunatics as master and man the world had neverseen. in fine, don quixote and sancho embraced one another and madefriends, and by the advice and with the approval of the greatcarrasco, who was now their oracle, it was arranged that theirdeparture should take ce three days thence, by which time theycould have all that was requisite for the journey ready, and procure aclosed helmet, which don quixote said he must by all means take.samson offered him one, as he knew a friend of his who had it wouldnot refuse it to him, though it was more dingy with rust and mildewthan bright and clean like burniÉäd steel. the curses which both housekeeper and niece poured out on thebachelor were past counting; they tore their hair, they wed theirfaces, and in the style of the hired mourners that were once infashion, they raised amentation over the departure of theirmaster and uncle, as if it had been his death. samsons intention inpersuading him to sally forth once more was to do what the historyrtes farther on; all by the advice of the curate and barber, withwhom he had previously discussed the subject. finally, then, duringthose three days, don quixote and sancho provided themselves with whatthey considered necessary, and sancho having pacified his wife, anddon quixote his niece and housekeeper, at nightfall, unseen byanyone except the bachelor, who thought fit to apany them half aleague out of the vige, they set out for el toboso, don quixoteon his good rocinante and sancho on his old dapple, his alforjasfurniÉäd with certain matters in the way of victuals, and his pursewith money that don quixote gave him to meet emergencies. samsonembraced him, and entreated him to let him hear of his good or evilfortunes, so that he might rejoice over the former or condole with himover thetter, as thews of friendship required. don quixotepromised him he would do so, and samson returned to the vige, andthe other two took the road for the great city of el toboso. ²åpter viii wherein is rted what befell don quixote on his way to see hidy dulcinea del toboso "blessed be ah the all-powerful!" says hamete benengeli onbeginning this eighth ²åpter; "blessed be ah!" he repeats threetimes; and he says he utters these thanksgivings at seeing that he hasnow got don quixote and sancho fairly afield, and that the readersof his delightful history may reckon that the achievements and humoursof don quixote and his squire are now about to begin; and he urgesthem to forget the former chivalries of the ingenious gentleman and tofix their eyes on those that are toe, which now begin on theroad to el toboso, as the others began on the ins of montiel; noris it much that he asks in consideration of all he promises, and so hegoes on to say: don quixote and sancho were left alone, and the moment samson tookhis departure, rocinante began to neigh, and dapple to sigh, which, byboth knight and squire, was epted as a good sign and a very happyomen; though, if the truth is to be told, the sighs and brays ofdapple were louder than the neighings of the hack, from which sanchoinferred that his good fortune was to exceed and overtop that of hismaster, building, perhaps, upon some judicial astrology that he mayhave known, though the history says nothing about it; all that canbe said is, that when he stumbled or fell, he was heard to say hewiÉäd he had note out, for by stumbling or falling there wasnothing to be got but a damaged shoe or a broken rib; and, fool aÉä was, he was not much astray in this. said don quixote, "sancho, my friend, night is drawing on upon us aswe go, and more darkly than will allow us to reach el toboso bydaylight; for there i am resolved to go before i engage in anotheradventure, and there i shall obtain the blessing and generouspermission of the peerless dulcinea, with which permission i expectand feel assured that i shall conclude and bring to a happytermination every perilous adventure; for nothing in life makesknights-errant more valorous than finding themselves favoured by theidies." "so i believe," replied sancho; "but i think it will be difficultfor your worship to speak with her or see her, at any rate where youwill be able to receive her blessing; unless, indeed, Éä throws itover the wall of the yard where i saw her the time before, when i tookher the letter that told of the follies and mad things your worshipwas doing in the heart of sierra morena." "didst thou take that for a yard wall, sancho," said don quixote,"where or at which thou sawest that never sufficiently extolledgrace and beauty? it must have been the gallery, corridor, orportico of some rich and royal pce." "it might have been all that," returned sancho, "but to me it lookedlike a wall, unless i am short of memory." "at all events, let us go there, sancho," said don quixote; "for, sothat i see her, it is the same to me whether it be over a wall, orat a window, or through the chink of a door, or the grate of a garden;for any beam of the sun of her beauty that reaches my eyes will givelight to my reason and strength to my heart, so that i shall beunmatched and unequalled in wisdom and valour."
µÚ111Ò³ "well, to tell the truth, senor," said sancho, "when i saw thatsun of thedy dulcinea del toboso, it was not bright enough to throwout beams at all; it must have been, that as her grace was siftingthat wheat i told you of, the thick dust Éä raised came before herface like a cloud and dimmed it." "what! dost thou still persist, sancho," said don quixote, "insaying, thinking, believing, and maintaining that mydy dulcinea wassifting wheat, that being an upation and task entirely atvariance with what is and should be the employment of persons ofdistinction, who are constituted and reserved for other avocations andpursuits that show their rank a bowshot off? thou hast forgotten, osancho, those lines of our poet wherein he paints for us how, in theircrystal abodes, those four nymphs employed themselves who rose fromtheir loved tagus and seated themselves in a verdant meadow toembroider those tissues which the ingenious poet there describes tous, how they were worked and woven with gold and silk and pearls;and something of this sort must have been the employment of mydywhen thou sawest her, only that the spite which some wickeden²ånter seems to have against everything of mine ²ånges all thosethings that give me pleasure, and turns them into shapes unliketheir own; and so i fear that in that history of my achievements whichthey say is now in print, if haply its author was some sage who isan enemy of mine, he will have put one thing for another, mingling athousand lies with one truth, and amusing himself by rtingtransactions which have nothing to do with the sequence of a truehistory. o envy, root of all countless evils, and cankerworm of thevirtues! all the vices, sancho, bring some kind of pleasure with them;but envy brings nothing but irritation, bitterness, and rage." "so i say too," replied sancho; "and i suspect in that legend orhistory of us that the bachelor samson carrasco told us he saw, myhonour goes dragged in the dirt, knocked about, up and down,sweeping the streets, as they say. and yet, on the faith of anhonest man, i never spoke ill of any en²ånter, and i am not so welloff that i am to be envied; to be sure, i am rather sly, and i havea certain spice of the rogue in me; but all is covered by the greatcloak of my simplicity, always natural and never acted; and if i hadno other merit save that i believe, as i always do, firmly and trulyin god, and all the holy roman catholic church holds and believes, andthat i am a mortal enemy of the jews, the historians ought to havemercy on me and treat me well in their writings. but let them say whatthey like; naked was i born, naked i find myself, i neither lose norgain; nay, while i see myself put into a book and passed on fromhand to hand over the world, i dont care a fig, let them say whatthey like of me." "that, sancho," returned don quixote, "reminds me of what happenedto a famous poet of our own day, who, having written a bitter satireagainst all the courtesandies, did not insert or name in it acertaindy of whom it was questionable whether Éä was one or not.Éä, seeing Éä was not in the list of the poet, asked him what he hadseen in her that he did not include her in the number of the others,telling him he must add to his satire and put her in the new part,or else look out for the consequences. the poet did as Éä bade him,and left her without a shred of reputation, and Éä was satisfied bygetting fame though it was infamy. in keeping with this is what theyrte of that Éäpherd who set fire to the famous temple of diana, byrepute one of the seven wonders of the world, and burned it with thesole object of making his name live in after ages; and, though itwas forbidden to name him, or mention his name by word of mouth orin writing, lest the object of his ambition should be attained,nevertheless it became known that he was called erostratus. andsomething of the same sort is what happened in the case of the greatemperor ²årles v and a gentleman in rome. the emperor was anxiousto see that famous temple of the rotunda, called in ancient timesthe temple of all the gods, but now-a-days, by a betternomenture, of all the saints, which is the best preservedbuilding of all those of pagan construction in rome, and the one whichbest sustains the reputation of mighty works and magnificence of itsfounders. it is in the form of a half orange, of enormousdimensions, and well lighted, though no light prates it savethat which is admitted by a window, or rather round skylight, at thetop; and it was from this that the emperor examined the building. aroman gentleman stood by his side and exined to him the skilfulconstruction and ingenuity of the vast fabric and its wonderfrchitecture, and when they had left the skylight he said to theemperor, a thousand times, your sacred majesty, the impulse came uponme to seize your majesty in my arms and fling myself down fromyonder skylight, so as to leave behind me in the world a name thatwouldst for ever. i am thankful to you for not carrying such anevil thought into effect, said the emperor, and i shall give youno opportunity in future of again putting your loyalty to the test;and i therefore forbid you ever to speak to me or to be where i am;and he followed up these words by bestowing a liberal bounty upon him.my meaning is, sancho, that the desire of acquiring fame is a verypowerful motive. what, thinkest thou, was it that flung horatius infull armour down from the bridge into the depths of the tiber? whatburned the hand and arm of mutius? what impelled curtius to plungeinto the deep burning gulf that opened in the midst of rome? what,in opposition to all the omens that dered against him, madejulius caesar cross the rubicon? and toe to more modernexamples, what scuttled the ships, and left stranded and cut off thegant spaniards under themand of the most courteous cortes inthe new world? all these and a variety of other great exploits are,were and will be, the work of fame that mortals desire as a reward anda portion of the immortality their famous deeds deserve; though wecatholic christians and knights-errant look more to that futureglory that is evesting in the ethereal regions of heaven than tothe vanity of the fame that is to be acquired in this presenttransitory life; a fame that, however long it mayst, must after allend with the world itself, which has its own appointed end. so that, osancho, in what we do we must not overpass the bounds which thechristian religion we profess has assigned to us. we have to ypride in giants, envy by generosity and nobleness of heart, anger bycalmness of demeanour and equanimity, gluttony and sloth by thespareness of our diet and the length of our vigils, lust andlewdness by the loyalty we preserve to those whom we have made themistresses of our thoughts, indolence by traversing the world in alldirections seeking opportunities of making ourselves, besideschristians, famous knights. such, sancho, are the means by which wereach those extremes of praise that fair fame carries with it." "all that your worship has said so far," said sancho, "i haveunderstood quite well; but still i would be d if your worship woulddissolve a doubt for me, which has just this minutee into mymind." "solve, thou meanest, sancho," said don quixote; "say on, in godsname, and i will answer as well as i can." "tell me, senor," sancho went on to say, "those julys or augusts,and all those venturous knights that you say are now dead- where arethey now?" "the heathens," replied don quixote, "are, no doubt, in hell; thechristians, if they were good christians, are either in purgatory orin heaven." "very good," said sancho; "but now i want to know- the tombs wherethe bodies of those great lords are, have they silvermps beforethem, or are the walls of their ²åpels ornamented with crutches,winding-Éäets, tresses of hair, legs and eyes in wax? or what arethey ornamented with?" to which don quixote made answer: "the tombs of the heathens weregenerally sumptuous temples; the aÉäs of julius caesars body wereced on the top of a stone pyramid of vast size, which they now callin rome saint peters needle. the emperor hadrian had for a tomb acastle asrge as a good-sized vige, which they called the molesadriani, and is now the castle of st. angelo in rome. the queenartemisia buried her husband mausolus in a tomb which was reckoned oneof the seven wonders of the world; but none of these tombs, or ofthe many others of the heathens, were ornamented with winding-Éäetsor any of those other offerings and tokens that show that they who areburied there are saints." "thats the point iming to," said sancho; "and now tell me,which is the greater work, to bring a dead man to life or to kill agiant?" "the answer is easy," replied don quixote; "it is a greater workto bring to life a dead man." "now i have got you," said sancho; "in that case the fame of themwho bring the dead to life, who give sight to the blind, curecripples, restore health to the sick, and before whose tombs there armps burning, and whose ²åpels are filled with devout folk ontheir knees adoring their relics be a better fame in this life andin the other than that which all the heathen emperors andknights-errant that have ever been in the world have left or may leavebehind them?" "that i grant, too," said don quixote. "then this fame, these favours, these privileges, or whatever youcall it," said sancho, "belong to the bodies and relics of thesaints who, with the approbation and permission of our holy motherchurch, havemps, tapers, winding-Éäets, crutches, pictures, eyesand legs, by means of which they increase devotion and add to theirown christian reputation. kings carry the bodies or relics of saintson their shoulders, and kiss bits of their bones, and enrich and adorntheir oratories and favourite altars with them."
µÚ112Ò³ "what wouldst thou have me infer from all thou hast said, sancho?"asked don quixote. "my meaning is," said sancho, "let us set about bing saints, andwe shall obtain more quickly the fair fame we are striving after;for you know, senor, yesterday or the day before yesterday £¨for itis sotely one may say so£© they canonised and beatified two littlebarefoot friars, and it is now reckoned the greatest good luck to kissor touch the iron ²åins with which they girt and tortured theirbodies, and they are held in greater veneration, so it is said, thanthe sword of rnd in the armoury of our lord the king, whom godpreserve. so that, senor, it is better to be an humble little friar ofno matter what order, than a valiant knight-errant; with god acouple of dozen of penanceshings are of more avail than twothousandnce-thrusts, be they given to giants, or monsters, ordragons." "all that is true," returned don quixote, "but we cannot all befriars, and many are the ways by which god takes his own to heaven;chivalry is a religion, there are sainted knights in glory." "yes," said sancho, "but i have heard say that there are more friarsin heaven than knights-errant." "that," said don quixote, "is because those in religious ordersare more numerous than knights." "the errants are many," said sancho. "many," replied don quixote, "but few they who deserve the name ofknights." with these, and other discussions of the same sort, they passed thatnight and the following day, without anything worth mentionhappening to them, whereat don quixote was not a little dejected;but at length the next day, at daybreak, they descried the greatcity of el toboso, at the sight of which don quixotes spirits roseand sanchos fell, for he did not know dulcineas house, nor in allhis life had he ever seen her, any more than his master; so thatthey were both uneasy, the one to see her, the other at not havingseen her, and sancho was at a loss to know what he was to do whenhis master sent him to el toboso. in the end, don quixote made uphis mind to enter the city at nightfall, and they waited until thetime came among some oak trees that were near el toboso; and whenthe moment they had agreed upon arrived, they made their entrance intothe city, where something happened them that may fairly be calledsomething. ²åpter ix wherein is rted what will be seen there twas at the very midnight hour- more or less- when don quixoteand sancho quitted the wood and entered el toboso. the town was indeep silence, for all the inhabitants were asleep, and stretched onthe broad of their backs, as the saying is. the night was darkish,though sancho would have been d had it been quite dark, so as tofind in the darkness an excuse for his blundering. all over thece nothing was to be heard except the barking of dogs, whichdeafened the ears of don quixote and troubled the heart of sancho. nowand then an ass brayed, pigs grunted, cats mewed, and the variousnoises they made seemed louder in the silence of the night; allwhich the enamoured knight took to be of evil omen; nevertheless hesaid to sancho, "sancho, my son, lead on to the pce of dulcinea, itmay be that we shall find her awake." "body of the sun! what pce am i to lead to," said sancho, "whenwhat i saw her highness in was only a very little house?" "most likely Éä had then withdrawn into some small apartment of herpce," said don quixote, "to amuse herself with damsels, as greadies and princesses are ustomed to do." "senor," said sancho, "if your worship will have it in spite of methat the house of mydy dulcinea is a pce, is this an hour, thinkyou, to find the door open; and will it be right for us to go knockingtill they hear us and open the door; making a disturbance andconfusion all through the household? are we going, do you fancy, tothe house of our wenches, like gants whoe and knock and go inat any hour, howeverte it may be?" "let us first of all find out the pce for certain," replied donquixote, "and then i will tell thee, sancho, what we had best do;but look, sancho, for either i see badly, or that dark mass that onesees from here should be dulcineas pce." "then let your worship lead the way," said sancho, "perhaps it maybe so; though i see it with my eyes and touch it with my hands, illbelieve it as much as i believe it is daylight now." don quixote took the lead, and having gone a matter of two hundredpaces he came upon the mass that produced the shade, and found itwas a great tower, and then he perceived that the building in questionwas no pce, but the chief church of the town, and said he, "itsthe church we have lit upon, sancho." "so i see," said sancho, "and god grant we may not light upon ourgraves; it is no good sign to find oneself wandering in a graveyard atthis time of night; and that, after my telling your worship, if idont mistake, that the house of thisdy will be in an alley withoutan outlet." "the curse of god on thee for a blockhead!" said don quixote; "wherehast thou ever heard of castles and royal pces being built inalleys without an outlet?" "senor," replied sancho, "every country has a way of its own;perhaps here in el toboso it is the way to build pces and grandbuildings in alleys; so i entreat your worship to let me sear²åbout among these streets or alleys before me, and perhaps, in somecorner or other, i may stumble on this pce- and i wish i saw thedogs eating it for leading us such a dance." "speak respectfully of what belongs to mydy, sancho," said donquixote; "let us keep the feast in peace, and not throw the rope afterthe bucket." "ill hold my tongue," said sancho, "but how am i to take itpatiently when your worship wants me, with only once seeing thehouse of our mistress, to know always, and find it in the middle ofthe night, when your worship cant find it, who must have seen itthousands of times?" "thou wilt drive me to desperation, sancho," said don quixote. "lookhere, heretic, have i not told thee a thousand times that i have neveronce in my life seen the peerless dulcinea or crossed the threshold ofher pce, and that i am enamoured solely by hearsay and by the greatreputation Éä bears for beauty and discretion?" "i hear it now," returned sancho; "and i may tell you that if youhave not seen her, no more have i." "that cannot be," said don quixote, "for, at any rate, thousaidst, on bringing back the answer to the letter i sent by thee, thatthou sawest her sifting wheat." "dont mind that, senor," said sancho; "i must tell you that myseeing her and the answer i brought you back were by hearsay too,for i can no more tell who thedy dulcinea is than i can hit thesky." "sancho, sancho," said don quixote, "there are times for jests andtimes when jests are out of ce; if i tell thee that i haveneither seen nor spoken to thedy of my heart, it is no reason whythou shouldst say thou hast not spoken to her or seen her, when thecontrary is the case, as thou well knowest." while the two were engaged in this conversation, they perceived someone with a pair of mules approaching the spot where they stood, andfrom the noise the plough made, as it dragged along the ground, theyguessed him to be somebourer who had got up before daybreak to goto his work, and so it proved to be. he came along singing thebad that says- ill did ye fare, ye men of france, in roncesvalles ²åse- "may i die, sancho," said don quixote, when he heard him, "if anygood wille to us tonight! dost thou not hear what that clown issinging?" "i do," said sancho, "but what has roncesvalles ²åse to do withwhat we have in hand? he might just as well be singing the bad ofcinos, for any good or ill that cane to us in our business." by this time thebourer hade up, and don quixote asked him,"can you tell me, worthy friend, and god speed you, whereabouts hereis the pce of the peerless princess dona dulcinea del toboso?" "senor," replied thed, "i am a stranger, and i have been only afew days in the town, doing farm work for a rich farmer. in that houseopposite there live the curate of the vige and the sacristan, andboth or either of them will be able to give your worship someount of thisdy princess, for they have a list of all thepeople of el toboso; though it is my belief there is not a princessliving in the whole of it; manydies there are, of quality, and inher own house each of them may be a princess." "well, then, Éä i am inquiring for will be one of these, myfriend," said don quixote. "may be so," replied thed; "god be with you, for herees thedaylight;" and without waiting for any more of his questions, hewhipped on his mules. sancho, seeing his master downcast and somewhat dissatisfied, saidto him, "senor, daylight will be here before long, and it will notdo for us to let the sun find us in the street; it will be betterfor us to quit the city, and for your worship to hide in some forestin the neighbourhood, and i wille back in the daytime, and i wontleave a nook or corner of the whole vige that i wont search forthe house, castle, or pce, of mydy, and it will be hard luck forme if i dont find it; and as soon as i have found it i will speakto her grace, and tell her where and how your worship is waiting forher to arrange some n for you to see her without any damage toher honour and reputation."
µÚ113Ò³ "sancho," said don quixote, "thou hast delivered a thousandsentences condensed in thepass of a few words; i thank thee forthe advice thou hast given me, and take it most dly.e, myson, let us go look for some ce where i may hide, while thou dostreturn, as thou sayest, to seek, and speak with mydy, from whosediscretion and courtesy i look for favours more than miraculous." sancho was in a fever to get his master out of the town, lest heshould discover the falsehood of the reply he had brought to him inthe sierra morena on behalf of dulcinea; so he hastened theirdeparture, which they took at once, and two miles out of the vigethey found a forest or thicket wherein don quixote ensconcedhimself, while sancho returned to the city to speak to dulcinea, inwhich embassy things befell him which demand fresh attention and a new²åpter. ²åpter x wherein is rted the crafty device sancho adopted to en²ånt thdy dulcinea, and other incidents as ludicrous as they are true when the author of this great historyes to rte what is setdown in this ²åpter he says he would have preferred to pass it overin silence, fearing it would not he believed, because here donquixotes madness reaches the confines of the greatest that can beconceived, and even goes a couple of bowshots beyond the greatest. butafter all, though still under the same fear and apprehension, he hasrecorded it without adding to the story or leaving out a particle ofthe truth, and entirely disregarding the ²årges of falsehood thatmight be brought against him; and he was right, for the truth mayrun fine but will not break, and always rises above falsehood as obove water; and so, going on with his story, he says that as soonas don quixote had ensconced himself in the forest, oak grove, or woodnear el toboso, he bade sancho return to the city, and note intohis presence again without having first spoken on his behalf to hidy, and begged of her that it might be her good pleasure to permitherself to be seen by her enved knight, and deign to bestow herblessing upon him, so that he might thereby hope for a happy issuein all his encounters and difficult enterprises. sancho undertook toexecute the task ording to the instructions, and to bring back ananswer as good as the one he brought back before. "go, my son," said don quixote, "and be not dazed when thoufindest thyself exposed to the light of that sun of beauty thou artgoing to seek. happy thou, above all the squires in the world! bear inmind, and let it not escape thy memory, how Éä receives thee; ifÉä ²ånges colour while thou art giving her my message; if Éä isagitated and disturbed at hearing my name; if Éä cannot rest upon hercushion, shouldst thou haply find her seated in the sumptuous state²åmber proper to her rank; and should Éä be standing, observe if Éäpoises herself now on one foot, now on the other; if Éä repeats twoor three times the reply Éä gives thee; if Éä passes from gentlenessto austerity, from asperity to tenderness; if Éä raises her hand tosmooth her hair though it be not disarranged. in short, my son,observe all her actions and motions, for if thou wilt report them tome as they were, i will gather what Éä hides in the recesses of herheart as regards my love; for i would have thee know, sancho, ifthou knowest it not, that with lovers the outward actions andmotions they give way to when their loves are in question are thefaithful messengers that carry the news of what is going on in thedepths of their hearts. go, my friend, may better fortune than mineattend thee, and bring thee a happier issue than that which i await indread in this dreary solitude." "i will go and return quickly," said sancho; "cheer up that littleheart of yours, master mine, for at the present moment you seem tohave got one no bigger than a hazel nut; remember what they say,that a stout heart breaks bad luck, and that where there are nofletches there are no pegs; and moreover they say, the hare jumps upwhere its not looked for. i say this because, if we could not find mdys pces or castles to-night, now that it is daylight i countupon finding them when i least expect it, and once found, leave itto me to manage her." "verily, sancho," said don quixote, "thou dost always bring in thyproverbs happily, whatever we deal with; may god give me better luckin what i am anxious about." with this, sancho wheeled about and gave dapple the stick, and donquixote remained behind, seated on his horse, resting in hisstirrups and leaning on the end of hisnce, filled with sad andtroubled forebodings; and there we will leave him, and apanysancho, who went off no less serious and troubled than he left hismaster; so much so, that as soon as he had got out of the thicket, andlooking round saw that don quixote was not within sight, he dismountedfrom his ass, and seating himself at the foot of a tree began tmune with himself, saying, "now, brother sancho, let us knowwhere your worship is going. are you going to look for some ass thathas been lost? not at all. then what are you going to look for? i amgoing to look for a princess, thats all; and in her for the sun ofbeauty and the whole heaven at once. and where do you expect to findall this, sancho? where? why, in the great city of el toboso. well,and for whom are you going to look for her? for the famous knightdon quixote of man²å, who rights wrongs, gives food to those whothirst and drink to the hungry. thats all very well, but do youknow her house, sancho? my master says it will be some royal pce orgrand castle. and have you ever seen her by any ²ånce? neither inor my master ever saw her. and does it strike you that it would bejust and right if the el toboso people, finding out that you were herewith the intention of going to tamper with their princesses andtrouble theirdies, were toe and cudgel your ribs, and not leavea whole bone in you? they would, indeed, have very good reason, ifthey did not see that i am under orders, and that you are amessenger, my friend, no me belongs to you. dont you trust tothat, sancho, for the manchegan folk are as hot-tempered as they arehonest, and wont put up with liberties from anybody. by the lord,if they get scent of you, it will be worse for you, i promise you.be off, you scoundrel! let the bolt fall. why should i go lookingfor three feet on a cat, to please another man; and what is more, whenlooking for dulcinea will be looking for marica in ravena, or thebachelor in smanca? the devil, the devil and nobody else, has mixedme up in this business!" such was the soliloquy sancho held with himself, and all theconclusion he coulde to was to say to himself again, "well,theres remedy for everything except death, under whose yoke we haveall to pass, whether we like it or not, when lifes finiÉäd. i haveseen by a thousand signs that this master of mine is a madman fit tobe tied, and for that matter, i too, am not behind him; for im agreater fool than he is when i follow him and serve him, if theresany truth in the proverb that says, tell me whatpany thoukeepest, and ill tell thee what thou art, or in that other, notwith whom thou art bred, but with whom thou art fed. well then, if hebe mad, as he is, and with a madness that mostly takes one thing foranother, and white for ck, and ck for white, as was seen when hesaid the windmills were giants, and the monks mules dromedaries,flocks of Éäep armies of enemies, and much more to the same tune,it will not be very hard to make him believe that some country girl,the first ie across here, is thedy dulcinea; and if he does notbelieve it, ill swear it; and if he should swear, ill swear again;and if he persists ill persist still more, so as,e what may, tohave my quoit always over the peg. maybe, by holding out in thisway, i may put a stop to his sending me on messages of this kindanother time; or maybe he will think, as i suspect he will, that oneof those wicked en²ånters, who he says have a spite against him,has ²ånged her form for the sake of doing him an ill turn andinjuring him." with this reflection sancho made his mind easy, counting thebusiness as good as settled, and stayed there till the afternoon so asto make don quixote think he had time enough to go to el toboso andreturn; and things turned out so luckily for him that as he got upto mount dapple, he spied,ing from el toboso towards the spotwhere he stood, three peasant girls on three colts, or fillies- forthe author does not make the point clear, though it is more likelythey were Éä-asses, the usual mount with vige girls; but as itis of no great consequence, we need not stop to prove it. to be brief, the instant sancho saw the peasant girls, he returnedfull speed to seek his master, and found him sighing and uttering athousand passionatementations. when don quixote saw him heeximed, "what news, sancho, my friend? am i to mark this day with awhite stone or a ck?" "your worship," replied sancho, "had better mark it with ruddle,like the inscriptions on the walls of ss rooms, that those whosee it may see it in." "then thou bringest good news," said don quixote. "so good," replied sancho, "that your worship bas only to spurrocinante and get out into the open field to see thedy dulcinea deltoboso, who, with two others, damsels of hers, ising to see yourworship." "holy god! what art thou saying, sancho, my friend?" eximed donquixote. "take care thou art not deceiving me, or seeking by false joyto cheer my real sadness."
µÚ114Ò³ "what could i get by deceiving your worship," returned sancho,"especially when it will so soon be shown whether i tell the truthor not?e, senor, push on, and you will see the princess ourmistressing, robed and adorned- in fact, like what Éä is. herdamsels and Éä are all one glow of gold, all bunches of pearls, alldiamonds, all rubies, all cloth of brocade of more than ten borders;with their hair loose on their shoulders like so many sunbeams yingwith the wind; and moreover, theye mounted on three piebaldcackneys, the finest sight ever you saw." "hackneys, you mean, sancho," said don quixote. "there is not much difference between cackneys and hackneys," saidsancho; "but no matter what theye on, there they are, the finesdies one could wish for, especially mydy the princess dulcinea,who staggers ones senses." "let us go, sancho, my son," said don quixote, "and in guerdon ofthis news, as unexpected as it is good, i bestow upon thee the bestspoil i shall win in the first adventure i may have; or if that doesnot satisfy thee, i promise thee the foals i shall have this year frommy three mares that thou knowest are in foal on our vigemon." "ill take the foals," said sancho; "for it is not quite certainthat the spoils of the first adventure will be good ones." by this time they had cleared the wood, and saw the three vigsses close at hand. don quixote looked all along the road to eltoboso, and as he could see nobody except the three peasant girls,he waspletely puzzled, and asked sancho if it was outside the cityhe had left them. "how outside the city?" returned sancho. "are your worships eyes inthe back of your head, that you cant see that they are these whoareing here, shining like the very sun at noonday?" "i see nothing, sancho," said don quixote, "but three countrygirls on three jackasses." "now, may god deliver me from the devil!" said sancho, "and can itbe that your worship takes three hackneys- or whatever theyre called-as white as the driven snow, for jackasses? by the lord, i couldtear my beard if that was the case!" "well, i can only say, sancho, my friend," said don quixote, "thatit is as in they are jackasses- or jennyasses- as that i am donquixote, and thou sancho panza: at any rate, they seem to me to beso." "hush, senor," said sancho, "dont talk that way, but open youreyes, ande and pay your respects to thedy of your thoughts, whois close upon us now;" and with these words he advanced to receive thethree vigesses, and dismounting from dapple, caught hold ofone of the asses of the three country girls by the halter, anddropping on both knees on the ground, he said, "queen and princess andduchess of beauty, may it please your haughtiness and greatness toreceive into your favour and good-will your captive knight whostands there turned into marble stone, and quite stupefied andbenumbed at finding himself in your magnificent presence. i amsancho panza, his squire, and he the vagabond knight don quixote ofman²å, otherwise called the knight of the rueful countenance."" don quixote had by this time ced himself on his knees besidesancho, and, with eyes starting out of his head and a puzzled gaze,was regarding her whom sancho called queen anddy; and as he couldsee nothing in her except a vigess, and not a very well-favouredone, for Éä was tter-faced and snub-nosed, he was perplexed andbewildered, and did not venture to open his lips. the country girls,at the same time, were astoniÉäd to see these two men, so differentin appearance, on their knees, preventing theirpanion from goingon. Éä, however, who had been stopped, breaking silence, said angrilyand testily, "get out of the way, bad luck to you, and let us pass,for we are in a hurry." to which sancho returned, "oh, princess and universaldy of eltoboso, is not your magnanimous heart softened by seeing the pirand prop of knight-errantry on his knees before your sublimatedpresence?" on hearing this, one of the others eximed, "woa then! why, imrubbing thee down, Éä-ass of my father-inw! see how thelordlingse to make game of the vige girls now, as if we herecould not ²åff as well as themselves. go your own way, and let usgo ours, and it will be better for you." "get up, sancho," said don quixote at this; "i see that fortune,with evil done to me unsated still, has taken possession of allthe roads by which anyfort may reach this wretched soul that icarry in my flesh. and thou, highest perfection of excellence that canbe desired, utmost limit of grace in human shape, sole relief ofthis afflicted heart that adores thee, though the malign en²ånterthat persecutes me has brought clouds and cataracts on my eyes, and tothem, and them only, transformed thy unparagoned beauty and ²ångedthy features into those of a poor peasant girl, if so be he has not atthe same time ²ånged mine into those of some monster to render themloathsome in thy sight, refuse not to look upon me with tenderness andlove; seeing in this submission that i make on my knees to thytransformed beauty the humility with which my soul adores thee." "hey-day! my grandfather!" cried the girl, "much i care for yourlove-making! get out of the way and let us pass, and well thank you." sancho stood aside and let her go, very well pleased to have gotso well out of the hobble he was in. the instant the vigesswho had done duty for dulcinea found herself free, prodding her"cackney" with a spike Éä had at the end of a stick, Éä set off atfull speed across the field. the Éä-ass, however, feeling the pointmore acutely than usual, began cutting such capers, that it flungthedy dulcinea to the ground; seeing which, don quixote ran toraise her up, and sancho to fix and girth the pack-saddle, whi²ålso had slipped under the asss belly. the pack-saddle being secured,as don quixote was about to lift up his en²ånted mistress in his armsand put her upon her beast, thedy, getting up from the ground,saved him the trouble, for, going back a little, Éä took a short run,and putting both hands on the croup of the ass Éä dropped into thesaddle more lightly than a falcon, and sat astride like a man, whereatsancho said, "rogue!" but ourdy is lighter than anner, and mightteach the cleverest cordovan or mexican how to mount; Éä clearedthe back of the saddle in one jump, and without spurs Éä is makingthe hackney go like a zebra; and her damsels are no way behind her,for they all fly like the wind;" which was the truth, for as soon asthey saw dulcinea mounted, they puÉäd on after her, and sped awaywithout looking back, for more than half a league. don quixote followed them with his eyes, and when they were nolonger in sight, he turned to sancho and said, "how now, sancho?thou seest how i am hated by en²ånters! and see to what a lengththe malice and spite they bear me go, when they seek to deprive meof the happiness it would give me to see mydy in her own properform. the fact is i was born to be an example of misfortune, and thetarget and mark at which the arrows of adversity are aimed anddirected. observe too, sancho, that these traitors were not contentwith ²ånging and transforming my dulcinea, but they transformed and²ånged her into a shape as mean and ill-favoured as that of thevige girl yonder; and at the same time they robbed her of thatwhich is such a peculiar property ofdies of distinction, that is tosay, the sweet fragrance thates of being always among perfumes andflowers. for i must tell thee, sancho, that when i approached to putdulcinea upon her hackney £¨as thou sayest it was, though to me itappeared a Éä-ass£©£¬ Éä gave me a whiff of raw garlic that made myhead reel, and poisoned my very heart." "o scum of the earth!" cried sancho at this, "o miserable,spiteful en²ånters! o that i could see you all strung by the gills,like sardines on a twig! ye know a great deal, ye can do a great deal,and ye do a great deal more. it ought to have been enough for you,ye scoundrels, to have ²ånged the pearls of mydys eyes into oakgalls, and her hair of purest gold into the bristles of a red oxstail, and in short, all her features from fair to foul, withoutmeddling with her smell; for by that we might somehow have found outwhat was hidden underneath that ugly rind; though, to tell thetruth, i never perceived her ugliness, but only her beauty, whichwas raised to the highest pitch of perfection by a mole Éä had on herright lip, like a moustache, with seven or eight red hairs likethreads of gold, and more than a palm long." "from the correspondence which exists between those of the faceand those of the body," said don quixote, "dulcinea must haveanother mole resembling that on the thick of the thigh on that side onwhich Éä has the one on her ace; but hairs of the length thou hastmentioned are very long for moles." "well, all i can say is there they were as in as could be,"replied sancho. "i believe it, my friend," returned don quixote; "for naturebestowed nothing on dulcinea that was not perfect and well-finiÉäd;and so, if Éä had a hundred moles like the one thou hast described,in her they would not be moles, but moons and shining stars. buttell me, sancho, that which seemed to me to be a pack-saddle as thouwert fiÐÔ it, was it a t-saddle or a side-saddle?"
µÚ115Ò³ "it was neither," replied sancho, "but a ja saddle, with a fieldcovering worth half a kingdom, so rich is it." "and that i could not see all this, sancho!" said don quixote; "oncemore i say, and will say a thousand times, i am the most unfortunateof men." sancho, the rogue, had enough to do to hide hisughter, at hearingthe simplicity of the master he had so nicely befooled. at length,after a good deal more conversation had passed between them, theyremounted their beasts, and followed the road to saragossa, which theyexpected to reach in time to take part in a certain grand festivalwhich is held every year in that illustrious city; but before they gotthere things happened to them, so many, so important, and sostrange, that they deserve to be recorded and read, as will be seenfarther on.²åpter xi of the strange adventure which the valiant don quixote had withthe car or cart of "the cortes of death" dejected beyond measure did don quixote pursue his journey,turning over in his mind the cruel trick the en²ånters had yed himin ²ånging hisdy dulcinea into the vile shape of the vigess,nor could he think of any way of restoring her to her original form;and these reflections so absorbed him, that without being aware ofit he let go rocinantes bridle, and he, perceiving the liberty thatwas granted him, stopped at every step to crop the fresh grass withwhich the in abounded. sancho recalled him from his reverie. "mncholy, senor," saidhe, "was made, not for beasts, but for men; but if men give way toit overmuch they turn to beasts; control yourself, your worship; beyourself again; gather up rocinantes reins; cheer up, rouseyourself and show that gant spirit that knights-errant ought tohave. what the devil is this? what weakness is this? are we here or infrance? the devil fly away with all the dulcineas in the world; forthe well-being of a single knight-errant is of more consequence thanall the en²åntments and transformations on earth." "hush, sancho," said don quixote in a weak and faint voice, "hushand utter no sphemies against that en²ånteddy; for i alone amto me for her misfortune and hard fate; her cmity hase ofthe hatred the wicked bear me." "so say i," returned sancho; "his heart rend in twain, i trow, whosaw her once, to see her now." "thou mayest well say that, sancho," replied don quixote, "as thousawest her in the full perfection of her beauty; for the en²åntmentdoes not go so far as to pervert thy vision or hide her lovelinessfrom thee; against me alone and against my eyes is the strength of itsvenom directed. nevertheless, there is one thing which has urred tome, and that is that thou didst ill describe her beauty to me, for, aswell as i recollect, thou saidst that her eyes were pearls; but eyesthat are like pearls are rather the eyes of a sea-bream than of dy, and i am persuaded that dulcineas must be green emeralds,full and soft, with two rainbows for eyebrows; take away thosepearls from her eyes and transfer them to her teeth; for beyond adoubt, sancho, thou hast taken the one for the other, the eyes for theteeth." "very likely," said sancho; "for her beauty bewildered me as much aÉär ugliness did your worship; but let us leave it all to god, whoalone knows what is to happen in this vale of tears, in this evilworld of ours, where there is hardly a thing to be found withoutsome mixture of wickedness, roguery, and rascality. but one thing,senor, troubles me more than all the rest, and that is thinking whatis to be done when your worship conquers some giant, or some otherknight, and orders him to go and present himself before the beautyof thedy dulcinea. where is this poor giant, or this poor wretch ofa vanquiÉäd knight, to find her? i think i can see them wandering allover el toboso, looking like noddies, and asking for mydy dulcinea;and even if they meet her in the middle of the street they wontknow her any more than they would my father." "perhaps, sancho," returned don quixote, "the en²åntment does notgo so far as to deprive conquered and presented giants and knightsof the power of recognising dulcinea; we will try by experiment withone or two of the first i vanquish and send to her, whether they seeher or not, bymanding them to return and give me an ount ofwhat happened to them in this respect." "i dere, i think what your worship has proposed is excellent,"said sancho; "and that by this n we shall find out what we wantto know; and if it be that it is only from your worship Éä is hidden,the misfortune will be more yours than hers; but so long as thedydulcinea is well and happy, we on our part will make the best of it,and get on as well as we can, seeking our adventures, and leaving timeto take his own course; for he is the best physician for these andgreater ailments." don quixote was about to reply to sancho panza, but he was preventedby a cart crossing the road full of the most diverse and strangepersonages and figures that could be imagined. he who led the mulesand acted as carter was a hideous demon; the cart was open to the sky,without a tilt or cane roof, and the first figure that presenteditself to don quixotes eyes was that of death itself with a humanface; next to it was an angel withrge painted wings, and at oneside an emperor, with a crown, to all appearance of gold, on his head.at the feet of death was the god called cupid, without his bandage,but with his bow, quiver, and arrows; there was also a knight infull armour, except that he had no morion or helmet, but only a hatdecked with plumes of divers colours; and along with these therewere others with a variety of costumes and faces. all this,unexpectedly encountered, took don quixote somewhat aback, andstruck terror into the heart of sancho; but the next instant donquixote was d of it, believing that some new perilous adventure waspresenting itself to him, and under this impression, and with a spiritprepared to face any danger, he nted himself in front of thecart, and in a loud and menacing tone, eximed, "carter, orcoachman, or devil, or whatever thou art, tell me at once who thouart, whither thou art going, and who these folk are thou carriest inthy wagon, which looks more like ²årons boat than an ordinary cart." to which the devil, stopping the cart, answered quietly, "senor,we are yers of angulo el malospany; we have been acting they of the cortes of death this morning, which is the octave ofcorpus christi, in a vige behind that hill, and we have to act itthis afternoon in that vige which you can see from this; and asit is so near, and to save the trouble of undressing and dressingagain, we go in the costumes in which we perform. thatd thereappears as death, that other as an angel, that woman, the managerswife, ys the queen, this one the soldier, that the emperor, and ithe devil; and i am one of the principal ²åracters of the y, forin thispany i take the leading parts. if you want to know anythingmore about us, ask me and i will answer with the utmost exactitude,for as i am a devil i am up to everything." "by the faith of a knight-errant," replied don quixote, "when isaw this cart i fancied some great adventure was presenting itselfto me; but i dere one must touch with the hand what appears tothe eye, if illusions are to be avoided. god speed you, good people;keep your festival, and remember, if you demand of me ought whereini can render you a service, i will do it dly and willingly, forfrom a child i was fond of the y, and in my youth a keen lover ofthe actors art." while they were talking, fate so willed it that one of thepanyin a mummers dress with a great number of bells, and armed with threeblown ox-dders at the end of a stick, joined them, and thismerry-andrew approaching don quixote, began flourishing his stickand banging the ground with the dders and cutting capers with greatjingling of the bells, which untoward apparition so startled rocinantethat, in spite of don quixotes efforts to hold him in, taking the bitbetween his teeth he set off across the in with greater speedthan the bones of his anatomy ever gave any promise of. sancho, whothought his master was in danger of being thrown, jumped off dapple,and ran in all haste to help him; but by the time he reached him hewas already on the ground, and beside him was rocinante, who hae down with his master, the usual end and upshot of rocinantesvivacity and high spirits. but the moment sancho quitted his beastto go and help don quixote, the dancing devil with the dders jumpedup on dapple, and beating him with them, more by the fright and thenoise than by the pain of the blows, made him fly across the fieldstowards the vige where they were going to hold their festival.sancho witnessed dapples career and his masters fall, and did notknow which of the two cases of need he should attend to first; butin the end, like a good squire and good servant, he let his love forhis master prevail over his affection for his ass; though every timehe saw the dders rise in the air ande down on the hind quartersof his dapple he felt the pains and terrors of death, and he wouldhave rather had the blows fall on the apples of his own eyes than onthe least hair of his asss tail. in this trouble and perplexity hecame to where don quixotey in a far sorrier plight than he liked,and having helped him to mount rocinante, he said to him, "senor,the devil has carried off my dapple."
µÚ116Ò³ "what devil?" asked don quixote. "the one with the dders," said sancho. "then i will recover him," said don quixote, "even if he be shutup with him in the deepest and darkest dungeons of hell. follow me,sancho, for the cart goes slowly, and with the mules of it i will makegood the loss of dapple." "you need not take the trouble, senor," said sancho; "keep cool, foras i now see, the devil has let dapple go and he ising back to hisold quarters;" and so it turned out, for, havinge down withdapple, in imitation of don quixote and rocinante, the devil madeoff on foot to the town, and the ass came back to his master. "for all that," said don quixote, "it will be well to visit thediscourtesy of that devil upon some of those in the cart, even if itwere the emperor himself." "dont think of it, your worship," returned sancho; "take myadvice and never meddle with actors, for they are a favoured ss;i myself have known an actor taken up for two murders, and yeteoff scot-free; remember that, as they are merry folk who givepleasure, everyone favours and protects them, and helps and makes muchof them, above all when they are those of the royalpanies andunder patent, all or most of whom in dress and appearance look likeprinces." "still, for all that," said don quixote, "the yer devil mustnot go off boasting, even if the whole human race favours him." so saying, he made for the cart, which was now very near the town,shouting out as he went, "stay! halt! ye merry, jovial crew! i want toteach you how to treat asses and animals that serve the squires ofknights-errant for steeds." so loud were the shouts of don quixote, that those in the cart heardand understood them, and, guessing by the words what the speakersintention was, death in an instant jumped out of the cart, and theemperor, the devil carter and the angel after him, nor did the queenor the god cupid stay behind; and all armed themselves with stones andformed in line, prepared to receive don quixote on the points of theirpebbles. don quixote, when he saw them drawn up in such a gantarray with uplifted arms ready for a mighty dis²årge of stones,checked rocinante and began to consider in what way he could attackthem with the least danger to himself. as he halted sancho came up,and seeing him disposed to attack this well-ordered squadron, saidto him, "it would be the height of madness to attempt such anenterprise; remember, senor, that against sops from the brook, andplenty of them, there is no defensive armour in the world, except tostow oneself away under a brass bell; and besides, one should rememberthat it is rashness, and not valour, for a single man to attack anarmy that has death in it, and where emperors fight in person, withangels, good and bad, to help them; and if this reflection will notmake you keep quiet, perhaps it will to know for certain that amongall these, though they look like kings, princes, and emperors, thereis not a single knight-errant." "now indeed thou hast hit the point, sancho," said don quixote,"which may and should turn me from the resolution i had alreadyformed. i cannot and must not draw sword, as i have many a time beforetold thee, against anyone who is not a dubbed knight; it is forthee, sancho, if thou wilt, to take vengeance for the wrong done tothy dapple; and i will help thee from here by shouts and salutarycounsels." "there is no asion to take vengeance on anyone, senor," repliedsancho; "for it is not the part of good christians to revengewrongs; and besides, i will arrange it with my ass to leave hisgrievance to my good-will and pleasure, and that is to live in peaceas long as heaven grants me life." "well," said don quixote, "if that be thy determination, goodsancho, sensible sancho, christian sancho, honest sancho, let us leavethese phantoms alone and turn to the pursuit of better and worthieradventures; for, from what i see of this country, we cannot fail tofind plenty of marvellous ones in it." he at once wheeled about, sancho ran to take possession of hisdapple, death and his flying squadron returned to their cart andpursued their journey, and thus the dread adventure of the cart ofdeath ended happily, thanks to the advice sancho gave his master;who had, the following day, a fresh adventure, of no less thrillinginterest than thest, with an enamoured knight-errant.²åpter xii of the strange adventure which befell the valiant don quixote withthe bold knight of the mirrors the night seeding the day of the encounter with death, donquixote and his squire passed under some tall shady trees, and donquixote at sanchos persuasion ate a little from the store carriedby dapple, and over their supper sancho said to his master, "senor,what a fool i should have looked if i had chosen for my reward thespoils of the first adventure your worship achieved, instead of thefoals of the three mares. after all, a sparrow in the hand isbetter than a vulture on the wing." "at the same time, sancho," replied don quixote, "if thou hadstlet me attack them as i wanted, at the very least the emperors goldcrown and cupids painted wings would have fallen to thee as spoils,for i should have taken them by force and given them into thy hands." "the sceptres and crowns of those y-actor emperors," said sancho,"were never yet pure gold, but only brass foil or tin." "that is true," said don quixote, "for it would not be right thatthe essories of the drama should be real, instead of being merefictions and semnces, like the drama itself; towards which, sancho-and, as a necessary consequence, towards those who represent andproduce it- i would that thou wert favourably disposed, for they areall instruments of great good to the state, cing before us at everystep a mirror in which we may see vividly disyed what goes on inhuman life; nor is there any similitude that shows us morefaithfully what we are and ought to be than the y and theyers.e, tell me, hast thou not seen a y acted in whichkings, emperors, pontiffs, knights,dies, and divers otherpersonages were introduced? one ys the viin, another theknave, this one the mer²ånt, that the soldier, one the sharp-wittedfool, another the foolish lover; and when the y is over, and theyhave put off the dresses they wore in it, all the actors beequal." "yes, i have seen that," said sancho. "well then," said don quixote, "the same thing happens in theedyand life of this world, where some y emperors, others popes, and,in short, all the ²åracters that can be brought into a y; but whenit is over, that is to say when life ends, death strips them all ofthe garments that distinguish one from the other, and all are equal inthe grave." "a fineparison!" said sancho; "though not so new but that i haveheard it many and many a time, as well as that other one of the gameof chess; how, so long as the gamests, each piece has its ownparticr office, and when the game is finiÉäd they are all mixed,jumbled up and shaken together, and stowed away in the bag, which ismuch like ending life in the grave." "thou art growing less doltish and more shrewd every day, sancho,"said don quixote. "ay," said sancho; "it must be that some of your worshipsshrewdness sticks to me;nd that, of itself, is barren and dry, wile to yield good fruit if you dung it and till it; what i mean isthat your worships conversation has been the dung that has fallenon the barren soil of my dry wit, and the time i have been in yourservice and society has been the tige; and with the help of thisi hope to yield fruit in abundance that will not fall away or slidefrom those paths of good breeding that your worship has made in myparched understanding." don quixoteughed at sanchos affected phraseology, andperceived that what he said about his improvement was true, for nowand then he spoke in a way that surprised him; though always, ormostly, when sancho tried to talk fine and attempted politnguage, he wound up by toppling over from the summit of hissimplicity into the abyss of his ignorance; and where he showed hisculture and his memory to the greatest advantage was in dragging inproverbs, no matter whether they had any bearing or not upon thesubject in hand, as may have been seen already and will be noticedin the course of this history. in conversation of this kind they passed a good part of the night,but sancho felt a desire to let down the curtains of his eyes, as heused to say when he wanted to go to sleep; and stripping dapple heleft him at liberty to graze his fill. he did not remove rocinantessaddle, as his masters express orders were, that so long as they werein the field or not sleeping under a roof rocinante was not to bestripped- the ancient usage establiÉäd and observed by knights-errantbeing to take off the bridle and hang it on the saddle-bow, but toremove the saddle from the horse- never! sancho acted ordingly, andgave him the same liberty he had given dapple, between whom androcinante there was a friendship so unequalled and so strong, thatit is handed down by tradition from father to son, that the authorof this veracious history devoted some special ²åpters to it,which, in order to preserve the propriety and decorum due to a historyso heroic, he did not insert therein; although at times he forgetsthis resolution of his and describes how eagerly the two beastswould scratch one another when they were together and how, when theywere tired or full, rocinante wouldy his neck across dapples,stretching half a yard or more on the other side, and the pair wouldstand thus, gazing thoughtfully on the ground, for three days, or atleast so long as they were left alone, or hunger did not drive them togo and look for food. i may add that they say the author left it onrecord that he likened their friendship to that of nisus and euryalus,and pdes and orestes; and if that be so, it may be perceived, tothe admiration of mankind, how firm the friendship must have beenbetween these two peaceful animals, shaming men, who preservefriendships with one another so badly. this was why it was said-
µÚ117Ò³ for friend no longer is there friend; the reeds turnnces now.and some one else has sung- friend to friend the bug, &c.and let no one fancy that the author was at all astray when hpared the friendship of these animals to that of men; for menhave received many lessons from beasts, and learned many importantthings, as, for example, the clyster from the stork, vomit andgratitude from the dog, watchfulness from the crane, foresight fromthe ant, modesty from the elephant, and loyalty from the horse. sancho atst fell asleep at the foot of a cork tree, while donquixote dozed at that of a sturdy oak; but a short time only hadpsed when a noise he heard behind him awoke him, and rising upstartled, he listened and looked in the direction the noise came from,and perceived two men on horseback, one of whom, letting himselfdrop from the saddle, said to the other, "dismount, my friend, andtake the bridles off the horses, for, so far as i can see, thisce will furnish grass for them, and the solitude and silence mylove-sick thoughts need of." as he said this he stretched himself uponthe ground, and as he flung himself down, the armour in which he wasd rattled, whereby don quixote perceived that he must be aknight-errant; and going over to sancho, who was asleep, he shookhim by the arm and with no small difficulty brought him back to hissenses, and said in a low voice to him, "brother sancho, we have gotan adventure." "god send us a good one," said sancho; "and where may herdyshipthe adventure be?" "where, sancho?" replied don quixote; "turn thine eyes and look, andthou wilt see stretched there a knight-errant, who, it strikes me,is not over and above happy, for i saw him fling himself off his horseand throw himself on the ground with a certain air of dejection, andhis armour rattled as he fell." "well," said sancho, "how does your worship make out that to be anadventure?" "i do not mean to say," returned don quixote, "that it is apleteadventure, but that it is the beginning of one, for it is in thisway adventures begin. but listen, for it seems he is tuning a luteor guitar, and from the way he is spitting and clearing his chest hemust be getting ready to sing something." "faith, you are right," said sancho, "and no doubt he is someenamoured knight." "there is no knight-errant that is not," said don quixote; "butlet us listen to him, for, if he sings, by that thread we shallextract the ball of his thoughts; because out of the abundance ofthe heart the mouth speaketh." sancho was about to reply to his master, but the knight of thegroves voice, which was neither very bad nor very good, stoppedhim, and listening attentively the pair heard him sing this so your pleasure, prithee,dy mine, unfold; dere the terms that i am to obey; my will to yours submissively i mould, and from yourw my feet shall never stray. would you i die, to silent grief a prey? then count me even now as dead and cold; would you i tell my woes in some new way? then shall my tale by love itself be told. the unison of opposites to prove, of the soft wax and diamond hard am i; but still, obedient to thews of love, here, hard or soft, i offer you my breast, whateer you grave or stamp thereon shall rest indelible for all eternity.with an "ah me!" that seemed to be drawn from the inmost recesses ofhis heart, the knight of the grove brought hisy to an end, andshortly afterwards eximed in a mncholy and piteous voice, "ofairest and most ungrateful woman on earth! what! can it be, mostserene casildea de vandalia, that thou wilt suffer this thy captiveknight to waste away and perish in ceaseless wanderings and rude andarduous toils? it is not enough that i havepelled all theknights of navarre, all the leonese, all the tartesians, all thecastilians, and finally all the knights of man²å, to confessthee the most beautiful in the world?" "not so," said don quixote at this, "for i am of man²å, and ihave never confessed anything of the sort, nor could i nor should iconfess a thing so much to the prejudice of mydys beauty; thouseest how this knight is raving, sancho. but let us listen, perhaps hewill tell us more about himself." "that he will," returned sancho, "for he seems in a mood to bewailhimself for a month at a stretch." but this was not the case, for the knight of the grove, hearingvoices near him, instead of continuing hismentation, stood up andeximed in a distinct but courteous tone, "who goes there? whatare you? do you belong to the number of the happy or of themiserable?" "of the miserable," answered don quixote. "thene to me," said he of the grove, "and rest assured that itis to woe itself and affliction itself youe." don quixote, finding himself answered in such a soft and courteousmanner, went over to him, and so did sancho. the doleful knight took don quixote by the arm, saying, "sit downhere, sir knight; for, that you are one, and of those that professknight-errantry, it is to me a sufficient proof to have found you inthis ce, where solitude and night, the natural couch and properretreat of knights-errant, keep youpany." to which don madeanswer, "a knight i am of the profession you mention, and thoughsorrows, misfortunes, and cmities have made my heart their abode,thepassion i feel for the misfortunes of others has not beenthereby baniÉäd from it. from what you have just now sung i gatherthat yours spring from love, i mean from the love you bear that fairingrate you named in yourment." in the meantime, they had seated themselves together on the hardground peaceably and sociably, just as if, as soon as day broke,they were not going to break one anothers heads. "are you, sir knight, in love per²ånce?" asked he of the grove ofdon quixote. "by mis²ånce i am," replied don quixote; "though the ills arisingfrom well-bestowed affections should be esteemed favours rather thanmisfortunes." "that is true," returned he of the grove, "if scorn did not unsettleour reason and understanding, for if it be excessive it looks likerevenge." "i was never scorned by mydy," said don quixote. "certainly not," said sancho, who stood close by, "for mydy is asamb, and softer than a roll of butter." "is this your squire?" asked he of the grove. "he is," said don quixote. "i never yet saw a squire," said he of the grove, "who ventured tospeak when his master was speaking; at least, there is mine, who is asbig as his father, and it cannot be proved that he has ever opened hislips when i am speaking." "by my faith then," said sancho, "i have spoken, and am fit tospeak, in the presence of one as much, or even- but never mind- itonly makes it worse to stir it." the squire of the grove took sancho by the arm, saying to him,"let us two go where we can talk in squire style as much as we please,and leave these gentlemen our masters to fight it out over the storyof their loves; and, depend upon it, daybreak will find them at itwithout having made an end of it." "so be it by all means," said sancho; "and i will tell yourworship who i am, that you may see whether i am to be reckoned amongthe number of the most talkative squires." with this the two squires withdrew to one side, and between themthere passed a conversation as droll as that which passed betweentheir masters was serious. ²åpter xiii in which is continued the adventure of the knight of the grove,together with the sensible, original, and tranquil colloquy thatpassed between the two squires the knights and the squires made two parties, these telling thestory of their lives, the others the story of their loves; but thehistory rtes first of all the conversation of the servants, andafterwards takes up that of the masters; and it says that, withdrawinga little from the others, he of the grove said to sancho, "a hard lifeit is we lead and live, senor, we that are squires toknights-errant; verily, we eat our bread in the sweat of our faces,which is one of the curses godid on our first parents." "it may be said, too," added sancho, "that we eat it in the chill ofour bodies; for who gets more heat and cold than the miserable squiresof knight-errantry? even so it would not be so bad if we had somethingto eat, for woes are lighter if theres bread; but sometimes we go aday or two without breaking our fast, except with the wind thatblows." "all that," said he of the grove, "may be endured and put up withwhen we have hopes of reward; for, unless the knight-errant heserves is excessively unlucky, after a few turns the squire will atleast find himself rewarded with a fine government of some ind orsome fair county." "i," said sancho, "have already told my master that i shall becontent with the government of some ind, and he is so noble andgenerous that he has promised it to me ever so many times."
µÚ118Ò³ "i," said he of the grove, "shall be satisfied with a canonry for myservices, and my master has already assigned me one." "your master," said sancho, "no doubt is a knight in the churchline, and can bestow rewards of that sort on his good squire; but mineis only ayman; though i remember some clever, but, to my mind,designing people, strove to persuade him to try and be anarchbishop. he, however, would not be anything but an emperor; but iwas trembling all the time lest he should take a fancy to go intothe church, not finding myself fit to hold office in it; for i maytell you, though i seem a man, i am no better than a beast for thechurch." "well, then, you are wrong there," said he of the grove; "forthose ind governments are not all satisfactory; some are awkward,some are poor, some are dull, and, in short, the highest andchoicest brings with it a heavy burden of cares and troubles which theunhappy wight to whose lot it has fallen bears upon his shoulders. farbetter would it be for us who have adopted this ursed service to goback to our own houses, and there employ ourselves in pleasanterupations -in hunting or fishing, for instance; for what squire inthe world is there so poor as not to have a hack and a couple ofgreyhounds and a fishingrod to amuse himself with in his own vige?" "i am not in want of any of those things," said sancho; "to besure i have no hack, but i have an ass that is worth my masters horsetwice over; god send me a bad easter, and that the next one i am tosee, if i would swap, even if i got four buÉäls of barley to boot.you willugh at the value i put on my dapple- for dapple is thecolour of my beast. as to greyhounds, i cant want for them, for thereare enough and to spare in my town; and, moreover, there is morepleasure in sport when it is at other peoples expense." "in truth and earnest, sir squire," said he of the grove, "i havemade up my mind and determined to have done with these drunkenvagaries of these knights, and go back to my vige, and bring upmy children; for i have three, like three oriental pearls." "i have two," said sancho, "that might be presented before thepope himself, especially a girl whom i am breeding up for acountess, please god, though in spite of her mother." "and how old is thisdy that is being bred up for a countess?"asked he of the grove. "fifteen, a couple of years more or less," answered sancho; "but Éäis as tall as ance, and as fresh as an april morning, and as strongas a porter." "those are gifts to fit her to be not only a countess but a nymph ofthe greenwood," said he of the grove; "whoreson strumpet! what piththe rogue must have!" to which sancho made answer, somewhat sulkily, "Éäs no strumpet,nor was her mother, nor will either of them be, please god, while ilive; speak more civilly; for one bred up among knights-errant, whoare courtesy itself, your words dont seem to me to be very bing." "o how little you know aboutpliments, sir squire," returned heof the grove. "what! dont you know that when a horseman delivers agoodnce thrust at the bull in the za, or when anyone doesanything very well, the people are wont to say, ha, whoreson rip! howwell he has done it! and that what seems to be abuse in theexpression is high praise? disown sons and daughters, senor, who dontdo what deserves thatpliments of this sort should be paid to theirparents." "i do disown them," replied sancho, "and in this way, and by thesame reasoning, you might call me and my children and my wife allthe strumpets in the world, for all they do and say is of a kindthat in the highest degree deserves the same praise; and to see themagain i pray god to deliver me from mortal sin, or, whates tothe same thing, to deliver me from this perilous calling of squireinto which i have fallen a second time, decayed and beguiled by apurse with a hundred ducats that i found one day in the heart of thesierra morena; and the devil is always putting a bag full of doubloonsbefore my eyes, here, there, everywhere, until i fancy at every stop iam putting my hand on it, and hugging it, and carrying it home withme, and making investments, and getting interest, and living like aprince; and so long as i think of this i make light of all thehardships i endure with this simpleton of a master of mine, who, iwell know, is more of a madman than a knight." "theres why they say that covetousness bursts the bag," said heof the grove; "but if youe to talk of that sort, there is not agreater one in the world than my master, for he is one of those ofwhom they say, the cares of others kill the ass; for, in orderthat another knight may recover the senses he has lost, he makes amadman of himself and goes looking for what, when found, may, forall i know, fly in his own face.""and is he in love per²ånce?" asked sancho. "he is," said of the grove, "with one casildea de vandalia, therawest and best roasteddy the whole world could produce; but thatrawness is not the only foot he limps on, for he has greater schemesrumbling in his bowels, as will be seen before many hours are over." "theres no road so smooth but it has some hole or hindrance in it,"said sancho; "in other houses they cook beans, but in mine its by thepotful; madness will have more followers and hangers-on than soundsense; but if there be any truth in themon saying, that to havpanions in trouble gives some relief, i may take constion fromyou, inasmuch as you serve a master as crazy as my own." "crazy but valiant," replied he of the grove, "and more roguish thancrazy or valiant." "mine is not that," said sancho; "i mean he has nothing of the roguein him; on the contrary, he has the soul of a pitcher; he has nothought of doing harm to anyone, only good to all, nor has he anymalice whatever in him; a child might persuade him that it is night atnoonday; and for this simplicity i love him as the core of my heart,and i cant bring myself to leave him, let him do ever such foolishthings." "for all that, brother and senor," said he of the grove, "if theblind lead the blind, both are in danger of falling into the pit. itis better for us to beat a quiet retreat and get back to our ownquarters; for those who seek adventures dont always find good ones." sancho kept spitting from time to time, and his spittle seemedsomewhat ropy and dry, observing which thepassionate squire of thegrove said, "it seems to me that with all this talk of ours ourtongues are sticking to the roofs of our mouths; but i have a prettygood loosener hanging from the saddle-bow of my horse," and getting uphe came back the next minute with arge bota of wine and a pastyhalf a yard across; and this is no exaggeration, for it was made ofa house rabbit so big that sancho, as he handled it, took it to bemade of a goat, not to say a kid, and looking at it he said, "and doyou carry this with you, senor?" "why, what are you thinking about?" said the other; "do you takeme for some paltry squire? i carry a betterrder on my horses croupthan a general takes with him when he goes on a march." sancho ate without requiring to be pressed, and in the dark boltedmouthfuls like the knots on a tether, and said he, "you are a propertrusty squire, one of the right sort, sumptuous and grand, as thisbanquet shows, which, if it has note here by magic art, at anyrate has the look of it; not like me, unlucky beggar, that havenothing more in my alforjas than a scrap of cheese, so hard that onemight brain a giant with it, and, to keep itpany, a few dozencarobs and as many more filberts and walnuts; thanks to theausterity of my master, and the idea he has and the rule he follows,that knights-errant must not live or sustain themselves on anythingexcept dried fruits and the herbs of the field." "by my faith, brother," said he of the grove, "my stomach is notmade for thistles, or wild pears, or roots of the woods; let ourmasters do as they like, with their chivalry notions andws, and eatwhat those enjoin; i carry my prog-basket and this bota hanging to thesaddle-bow, whatever they may say; and it is such an object of worshipwith me, and i love it so, that there is hardly a moment but i amkissing and embracing it over and over again;" and so saying he thrustit into sanchos hands, who raising it aloft pointed to his mouth,gazed at the stars for a quarter of an hour; and when he had donedrinking let his head fall on one side, and giving a deep sigh,eximed, "ah, whoreson rogue, how catholic it is!" "there, you see," said he of the grove, hearing sanchosexmation, "how you have called this wine whoreson by way ofpraise." "well," said sancho, "i own it, and i grant it is no dishonour tocall anyone whoreson when it is to be understood as praise. but tellme, senor, by what you love best, is this ciudad real wine?" "o rare wine-taster!" said he of the grove; "nowhere else indeeddoes ite from, and it has some years age too." "leave me alone for that," said sancho; "never fear but ill hitupon the ce it came from somehow. what would you say, sir squire,to my having such a great natural instinct in judging wines that youhave only to let me smell one and i can tell positively its country,its kind, its vour and soundness, the ²ånges it will undergo,and everything that appertains to a wine? but it is no wonder, for ihave had in my family, on my fathers side, the two bestwine-tasters that have been known in man²å for many a long year,and to prove it ill tell you now a thing that happened them. theygave the two of them some wine out of a cask, to try, asking theiropinion as to the condition, quality, goodness or badness of the wine.one of them tried it with the tip of his tongue, the other did no morethan bring it to his nose. the first said the wine had a vour ofiron, the second said it had a stronger vour of cordovan. the ownersaid the cask was clean, and that nothing had been added to the winefrom which it could have got a vour of either iron or leather.nevertheless, these two great wine-tasters held to what they had said.time went by, the wine was sold, and when they came to clean out thecask, they found in it a small key hanging to a thong of cordovan; seenow if one whoes of the same stock has not a right to give hisopinion in such like cases."
µÚ119Ò³ "therefore, i say," said he of the grove, "let us give up going inquest of adventures, and as we have loaves let us not go looking forcakes, but return to our cribs, for god will find us there if it behis will." "until my master reaches saragossa," said sancho, "ill remain inhis service; after that well see." the end of it was that the two squires talked so much and drank somuch that sleep had to tie their tongues and moderate their thirst,for to quench it was impossible; and so the pair of them fell asleepclinging to the now nearly empty bota and with half-chewed morselsin their mouths; and there we will leave them for the present, torte what passed between the knight of the grove and him of therueful countenance.²åpter xiv wherein is continued the adventure of the knight of the grove among the things that passed between don quixote and the knight ofthe wood, the history tells us he of the grove said to don quixote,"in fine, sir knight, i would have you know that my destiny, or,more properly speaking, my choice led me to fall in love with thepeerless casildea de vandalia. i call her peerless because Éä hasno peer, whether it be in bodily stature or in the supremacy of rankand beauty. this same casildea, then, that i speak of, requited myhonourable passion and gentle aspirations bypelling me, as hisstepmother did hercules, to engage in many perils of various sorts, atthe end of each promising me that, with the end of the next, theobject of my hopes should be attained; but mybours have gone onincreasing link by link until they are past counting, nor do i knowwhat will be thest one that is to be the beginning of theaplishment of my ²åste desires. on one asion Éä bade me goand ²ållenge the famous giantess of seville, giralda by name,who is as mighty and strong as if made of brass, and though neverstirring from one spot, is the most restless and ²ångeable woman inthe world. i came, i saw, i conquered, and i made her stay quiet andbehave herself, for nothing but north winds blew for more than a week.another time i was ordered to lift those ancient stones, the mightybulls of guisando, an enterprise that might more fitly be entrusted toporters than to knights. again, Éä bade me fling myself into thecavern of cabra- an unparalleled and awful peril- and bring her aminute ount of all that is concealed in those gloomy depths. istopped the motion of the giralda, i lifted the bulls of guisando, iflung myself into the cavern and brought to light the secrets of itsabyss; and my hopes are as dead as dead can be, and her scorn andhermands as lively as ever. to be brief,st of all Éä hamanded me to go through all the provinces of spain andpel allthe knights-errant wandering therein to confess that Éä surpasses allwomen alive to-day in beauty, and that i am the most valiant and themost deeply enamoured knight on earth; in support of which im ihave already travelled over the greater part of spain, and havethere vanquiÉäd several knights who have dared to contradict me;but what i most plume and pride myself upon is having vanquiÉäd insinglebat that so famous knight don quixote of man²å, and madehim confess that my casildea is more beautiful than his dulcinea;and in this one victory i hold myself to have conquered all theknights in the world; for this don quixote that i speak of hasvanquiÉäd them all, and i having vanquiÉäd him, his glory, his fame,and his honour have passed and are transferred to my person; for the more the vanquiÉäd hath of fair renown, the greater glory gilds the victors crown.thus the innumerable achievements of the said don quixote are nowset down to my ount and have be mine." don quixote was amazed when he heard the knight of the grove, andwas a thousand times on the point of telling him he lied, and hadthe lie direct already on the tip of his tongue; but he restrainedhimself as well as he could, in order to force him to confess thelie with his own lips; so he said to him quietly, "as to what you say,sir knight, about having vanquiÉäd most of the knights of spain, oreven of the whole world, i say nothing; but that you have vanquiÉäddon quixote of man²å i consider doubtful; it may have been someother that resembled him, although there are few like him." "how! not vanquiÉäd?" said he of the grove; "by the heaven thatis above us i fought don quixote and overcame him and made himyield; and he is a man of tall stature, gaunt features, long,nklimbs, with hair turning grey, an aquiline nose rather hooked, anrge ck drooping moustaches; he does battle under the name of thecountenance, and he has for squire a peasant called sancho panza;he presses the loins and rules the reins of a famous steed calledrocinante; andstly, he has for the mistress of his will a certaindulcinea del toboso, once upon a time called aldonza lorenzo, justas i call mine casildea de vandalia because her name is casilda andÉä is of andalusia. if all these tokens are not enough to vindicatethe truth of what i say, here is my sword, that willpelincredulity itself to give credence to it." "calm yourself, sir knight," said don quixote, "and give ear to whati am about to say to you. you.i would have you know that this donquixote you speak of is the greatest friend i have in the world; somuch so that i may say i regard him in the same light as my ownperson; and from the precise and clear indications you have given icannot but think that he must be the very one you have vanquiÉäd.on the other hand, i see with my eyes and feel with my hands that itis impossible it can have been the same; unless indeed it be that,as he has many enemies who are en²ånters, and one in particr whois always persecuting him, some one of these may have taken hisshape in order to allow himself to be vanquiÉäd, so as to defraud himof the fame that his exalted achievements as a knight have earnedand acquired for him throughout the known world. and in confirmationof this, i must tell you, too, that it is but ten hours since thesesaid en²ånters his enemies transformed the shape and person of thefair dulcinea del toboso into a foul and mean vigess, and in thesame way they must have transformed don quixote; and if all thisdoes not suffice to convince you of the truth of what i say, here isdon quixote himself, who will maintain it by arms, on foot or onhorseback or in any way you please." and so saying he stood up andid his hand on his sword, waiting tosee what the knight of the grove would do, who in an equally calmvoice said in reply, "pledges dont distress a good payer; he whohas seeded in vanquishing you once when transformed, sir donquixote, may fairly hope to subdue you in your own proper shape; butas it is not bing for knights to perform their feats of arms inthe dark, like highwaymen and bullies, let us wait till daylight, thatthe sun may behold our deeds; and the conditions of ourbat shallbe that the vanquiÉäd shall be at the victors disposal, to do allthat he may enjoin, provided the injunction be such as shall bebing a knight." "i am more than satisfied with these conditions and terms,"replied don quixote; and so saying, they betook themselves to wheretheir squiresy, and found them snoring, and in the same posturethey were in when sleep fell upon them. they roused them up, andbade them get the horses ready, as at sunrise they were to engage in abloody and arduous singlebat; at which intelligence sancho wasaghast and thunderstruck, trembling for the safety of his masterbecause of the mighty deeds he had heard the squire of the groveascribe to his; but without a word the two squires went in quest oftheir cattle; for by this time the three horses and the ass hadsmelt one another out, and were all together. on the way, he of the grove said to sancho, "you must know, brother,that it is the custom with the fighting men of andalusia, when theyare godfathers in any quarrel, not to stand idle with folded armswhile their godsons fight; i say so to remind you that while ourmasters are fighting, we, too, have to fight, and knock one another toshivers." "that custom, sir squire," replied sancho, "may hold good amongthose bullies and fighting men you talk of, but certainly not amongthe squires of knights-errant; at least, i have never heard mymaster speak of any custom of the sort, and he knows all thews ofknight-errantry by heart; but granting it true that there is anexpressw that squires are to fight while their masters arefighting, i dont mean to obey it, but to pay the penalty that maybeid on peacefully minded squires like myself; for i am sure itcannot be more than two pounds of wax, and i would rather pay that,for i know it will cost me less than the lint i shall be at theexpense of to mend my head, which i look upon as broken and splitalready; theres another thing that makes it impossible for me tofight, that i have no sword, for i never carried one in my life." "i know a good remedy for that," said he of the grove; "i havehere two linen bags of the same size; you shall take one, and i theother, and we will fight at bag blows with equal arms." "if thats the way, so be it with all my heart," said sancho, "forthat sort of battle will serve to knock the dust out of us insteadof hurting us." "that will not do," said the other, "for we must put into thebags, to keep the wind from blowing them away, half a dozen nicesmooth pebbles, all of the same weight; and in this way we shall beable to baste one another without doing ourselves any harm ormischief."
µÚ120Ò³ "body of my father!" said sancho, "see what marten and sable, andpads of carded cotton he is putting into the bags, that our headsmay not be broken and our bones beaten to jelly! but even if theyare filled with toss silk, i can tell you, senor, i am not going tofight; let our masters fight, thats their lookout, and let us drinkand live; for time will take care to ease us of our lives, without ourgoing to look for fillips so that they may be finiÉäd off beforetheir proper timees and they drop from ripeness." "still," returned he of the grove, "we must fight, if it be only forhalf an hour." "by no means," said sancho; "i am not going to be so discourteous orso ungrateful as to have any quarrel, be it ever so small, with onei have eaten and drunk with; besides, who the devil could bringhimself to fight in cold blood, without anger or provocation?" "i can remedy that entirely," said he of the grove, "and in thisway: before we begin the battle, i wille up to your worship fairand softly, and give you three or four buffets, with which i shallstretch you at my feet and rouse your anger, though it were sleepingsounder than a dormouse." "to match that n," said sancho, "i have another that is not awhit behind it; i will take a cudgel, and before your worshipesnear enough to waken my anger i will send yours so sound to sleep withwhacks, that it wont waken unless it be in the other world, whereit is known that i am not a man to let my face be handled by anyone;let each look out for the arrow- though the surer way would be tolet everyones anger sleep, for nobody knows the heart of anyone,and a man maye for wool and go back shorn; god gave his blessingto peace and his curse to quarrels; if a hunted cat, surrounded andhard pressed, turns into a lion, god knows what i, who am a man, mayturn into; and so from this time forth i warn you, sir squire, thatall the harm and mischief that maye of our quarrel will be putdown to your ount." "very good," said he of the grove; "god will send the dawn and weshall be all right." and now gay-plumaged birds of all sorts began to warble in thetrees, and with their varied and dsome notes seemed to weeand salute the fresh morn that was beginning to show the beauty of hercountenance at the gates and balconies of the east, shaking from herlocks a profusion of liquid pearls; in which dulcet moisture bathed,the nts, too, seemed to Éäd and shower down a pearly spray, thewillows distilled sweet manna, the fountainsughed, the brooksbabbled, the woods rejoiced, and the meadows arrayed themselves in alltheir glory at hering. but hardly had the light of day made itpossible to see and distinguish things, when the first object thatpresented itself to the eyes of sancho panza was the squire of thegroves nose, which was so big that it almost overshadowed his wholebody. it is, in fact, stated, that it was of enormous size, hookedin the middle, covered with warts, and of a mulberry colour like anegg-nt; it hung down two fingers length below his mouth, and thesize, the colour, the warts, and the bend of it, made his face sohideous, that sancho, as he looked at him, began to tremble hand andfoot like a child in convulsions, and he vowed in his heart to lethimself be given two hundred buffets, sooner than be provoked to fightthat monster. don quixote examined his adversary, and found that healready had his helmet on and visor lowered, so that he could notsee his face; he observed, however, that he was a sturdily builtman, but not very tall in stature. over his armour he wore a surcoator cassock of what seemed to be the finest cloth of gold, allbespangled with glittering mirrors like little moons, which gave himan extremely gant and splendid appearance; above his helmetfluttered a great quantity of plumes, green, yellow, and white, andhisnce, which was leaning against a tree, was very long andstout, and had a steel point more than a palm in length. don quixote observed all, and took note of all, and from what he sawand observed he concluded that the said knight must be a man ofgreat strength, but he did not for all that give way to fear, likesancho panza; on the contrary, with aposed and dauntless air, hesaid to the knight of the mirrors, "if, sir knight, your greateagerness to fight has not baniÉäd your courtesy, by it i wouldentreat you to raise your visor a little, in order that i may see iftheeliness of your countenance corresponds with that of yourequipment." "whether youe victorious or vanquiÉäd out of this emprise,sir knight," replied he of the mirrors, "you will have more thanenough time and leisure to see me; and if now i do notply withyour request, it is because it seems to me i should do a serious wrongto the fair casildea de vandalia in wasting time while i stopped toraise my visor beforepelling you to confess what you are alreadyaware i maintain." "well then," said don quixote, "while we are mounting you can atleast tell me if i am that don quixote whom you said you vanquiÉäd." "to that we answer you," said he of the mirrors, "that you are aslike the very knight i vanquiÉäd as one egg is like another, but asyou say en²ånters persecute you, i will not venture to say positivelywhether you are the said person or not." "that," said don quixote, "is enough to convince me that you areunder a deception; however, entirely to relieve you of it, let ourhorses be brought, and in less time than it would take you to raiseyour visor, if god, mydy, and my arm stand me in good stead, ishall see your face, and you shall see that i am not the vanquiÉäddon quixote you take me to be." with this, cutting short the colloquy, they mounted, and don quixotewheeled rocinante round in order to take a proper distance to ²årgeback upon his adversary, and he of the mirrors did the same; but donquixote had not moved away twenty paces when he heard himself calledby the other, and, each returning half-way, he of the mirrors saidto him, "remember, sir knight, that the terms of ourbat are,that the vanquiÉäd, as i said before, shall be at the victorsdisposal." "i am aware of it already," said don quixote; "provided what imanded and imposed upon the vanquiÉäd be things that do nottransgress the limits of chivalry." "that is understood," replied he of the mirrors. at this moment the extraordinary nose of the squire presented itselfto don quixotes view, and he was no less amazed than sancho at thesight; insomuch that he set him down as a monster of some kind, or ahuman being of some new species or unearthly breed. sancho, seeing hismaster retiring to run his course, did not like to be left alonewith the nosy man, fearing that with one p of that nose on hisown the battle would be all over for him and he would be leftstretched on the ground, either by the blow or with fright; so heran after his master, holding on to rocinantes stirrup-leather, andwhen it seemed to him time to turn about, he said, "i implore ofyour worship, senor, before you turn to ²årge, to help me up intothis cork tree, from which i will be able to witness the gantencounter your worship is going to have with this knight, more to mytaste and better than from the ground." "it seems to me rather, sancho," said don quixote, "that thouwouldst mount a scaffold in order to see the bulls without danger." "to tell the truth," returned sancho, "the monstrous nose of thatsquire has filled me with fear and terror, and i dare not stay nearhim." "it is," said don quixote, "such a one that were i not what i amit would terrify me too; so,e, i will help thee up where thouwilt." while don quixote waited for sancho to mount into the cork tree heof the mirrors took as much ground as he considered requisite, and,supposing don quixote to have done the same, without waiting for anysound of trumpet or other signal to direct them, he wheeled his horse,which was not more agile or better-looking than rocinante, and athis top speed, which was an easy trot, he proceeded to ²årge hisenemy; seeing him, however, engaged in putting sancho up, he drewrein, and halted in mid career, for which his horse was very grateful,as he was already unable to go. don quixote, fancying that his foe waing down upon him flying, drove his spurs vigorously intorocinantes lean nks and made him scud along in such style that thehistory tells us that on this asion only was he known to makesomething like running, for on all others it was a simple trot withhim; and with this unparalleled fury he bore down where he of themirrors stood digging his spurs into his horse up to buttons,without being able to make him stir a fingers length from the spotwhere he hade to a standstill in his course. at this luckymoment and crisis, don quixote came upon his adversary, in troublewith his horse, and embarrassed with hisnce, which he eithercould not manage, or had no time toy in rest. don quixote, however,paid no attention to these difficulties, and in perfect safety tohimself and without any risk encountered him of the mirrors withsuch force that he brought him to the ground in spite of himselfover the haunches of his horse, and with so heavy a fall that heyto all appearance dead, not stirring hand or foot. the instantsancho saw him fall he slid down from the cork tree, and made allhaste to where his master was, who, dismounting from rocinante, wentand stood over him of the mirrors, and ucing his helmet to see ifhe was dead, and to give him air if he should happen to be alive, hesaw- who can say what he saw, without filling all who hear it withastonishment, wonder, and awe? he saw, the history says, the verycountenance, the very face, the very look, the very physiognomy, thevery effigy, the very image of the bachelor samson carrasco! as soonas he saw it he called out in a loud voice, "make haste here,sancho, and behold what thou art to see but not to believe; quick,my son, and learn what magic can do, and wizards and en²ånters arecapable of."
µÚ121Ò³ sancho came up, and when he saw the countenance of the bachelorcarrasco, he fell to crossing himself a thousand times, and blessinghimself as many more. all this time the prostrate knight showed nosigns of life, and sancho said to don quixote, "it is my opinion,senor, that in any case your worship should take and thrust your swordinto the mouth of this one here that looks like the bachelor samsoncarrasco; perhaps in him you will kill one of your enemies, theen²ånters." "thy advice is not bad," said don quixote, "for of enemies the fewerthe better;" and he was drawing his sword to carry into effectsanchos counsel and suggestion, when the squire of the mirrors cameup, now without the nose which had made him so hideous, and criedout in a loud voice, "mind what you are about, senor don quixote; thatis your friend, the bachelor samson carrasco, you have at your feet,and i am his squire." "and the nose?" said sancho, seeing him without the hideousfeature he had before; to which he replied, "i have it here in mypocket," and putting his hand into his right pocket, he pulled out amasquerade nose of varniÉäd pasteboard of the make already described;and sancho, examining him more and more closely, eximed aloud ina voice of amazement, "holy mary be good to me! isnt it tom cecial,my neighbour and gossip?" "why, to be sure i am!" returned the now unnosed squire; "tom ceciali am, gossip and friend sancho panza; and ill tell you presentlythe means and tricks and falsehoods by which i have been brought here;but in the meantime, beg and entreat of your master not to touch,maltreat, wound, or y the knight of the mirrors whom he has athis feet; because, beyond all dispute, it is the rash andill-advised bachelor samson carrasco, our fellow townsman." at this moment he of the mirrors came to himself, and don quixoteperceiving it, held the naked point of his sword over his face, andsaid to him, "you are a dead man, knight, unless you confess thatthe peerless dulcinea del toboso excels your casildea de vandalia inbeauty; and in addition to this you must promise, if you shouldsurvive this encounter and fall, to go to the city of el toboso andpresent yourself before her on my behalf, that Éä deal with youording to her good pleasure; and if Éä leaves you free to doyours, you are in like manner to return and seek me out £¨for the trailof my mighty deeds will serve you as a guide to lead you to where imay be£©£¬ and tell me what may have passed between you and her-conditions which, in ordance with what we stipted before oubat, do not transgress the just limits of knight-errantry." "i confess," said the fallen knight, "that the dirty tattered shoeof thedy dulcinea del toboso is better than the illbed thoughclean beard of casildea; and i promise to go and to return from herpresence to yours, and to give you a full and particr ount ofall you demand of me." "you must also confess and believe," added don quixote, "that theknight you vanquiÉäd was not and could not be don quixote ofman²å, but some one else in his likeness, just as i confess andbelieve that you, though you seem to be the bachelor samsoncarrasco, are not so, but some other resembling him, whom my enemieshave here put before me in his shape, in order that i may restrain andmoderate the vehemence of my wrath, and make a gentle use of the gloryof my victory." "i confess, hold, and think everything to be as you believe, hold,and think it," the crippled knight; "let me rise, i entreat you; if,indeed, the shock of my fall will allow me, for it has left me in asorry plight enough." don quixote helped him to rise, with the assistance of his squiretom cecial; from whom sancho never took his eyes, and to whom he putquestions, the replies to which furniÉäd clear proof that he wasreally and truly the tom cecial he said; but the impression made onsanchos mind by what his master said about the en²ånters having²ånged the face of the knight of the mirrors into that of thebachelor samson carrasco, would not permit him to believe what hesaw with his eyes. in fine, both master and man remained under thedelusion; and, down in the mouth, and out of luck, he of the mirrorsand his squire parted from don quixote and sancho, he meaning to golook for some vige where he could ster and strap his ribs. donquixote and sancho resumed their journey to saragossa, and on it thehistory leaves them in order that it may tell who the knight of themirrors and his long-nosed squire were. ²åpter xv wherein it is told and known who the knight of the mirrors and hissquire were don quixote went off satisfied, ted, and vain-glorious in thehighest degree at having won a victory over such a valiant knight aÉä fancied him of the mirrors to be, and one from whose knightlyword he expected to learn whether the en²åntment of hisdy stillcontinued; inasmuch as the said vanquiÉäd knight was bound, under thepenalty of ceasing to be one, to return and render him an ount ofwhat took ce between him and her. but don quixote was of onemind, he of the mirrors of another, for he just then had no thought ofanything but finding some vige where he could ster himself, ashas been said already. the history goes on to say, then, that when thebachelor samson carrasco rmended don quixote to resume hisknight-errantry which he hadid aside, it was in consequence ofhaving been previously in conve with the curate and the barber onthe means to be adopted to induce don quixote to stay at home in peaceand quiet without worrying himself with his ill-starred adventures; atwhich consultation it was decided by the unanimous vote of all, and onthe special advice of carrasco, that don quixote should be allowedto go, as it seemed impossible to restrain him, and that samson shouldsally forth to meet him as a knight-errant, and do battle with him,for there would be no difficulty about a cause, and vanquish him, thatbeing looked upon as an easy matter; and that it should be agreedand settled that the vanquiÉäd was to be at the mercy of thevictor. then, don quixote being vanquiÉäd, the bachelor knight was tmand him to return to his vige and his house, and not quit itfor two years, or until he received further orders from him; all whichit was clear don quixote would unhesitatingly obey, rather thancontravene or fail to observe thews of chivalry; and during theperiod of his seclusion he might perhaps forget his folly, or theremight be an opportunity of discovering some ready remedy for hismadness. carrasco undertook the task, and tom cecial, a gossip andneighbour of sancho panzas, a lively, feather-headed fellow,offered himself as his squire. carrasco armed himself in the fashiondescribed, and tom cecial, that he might not be known by his gossipwhen they met, fitted on over his own natural nose the falsemasquerade one that has been mentioned; and so they followed thesame route don quixote took, and almost came up with him in time to bepresent at the adventure of the cart of death and finallyencountered them in the grove, where all that the sagacious reader hasbeen reading about took ce; and had it not been for theextraordinary fancies of don quixote, and his conviction that thebachelor was not the bachelor, senor bachelor would have beenincapacitated for ever from taking his degree of licentiate, allthrough not finding nests where he thought to find birds. tom cecial, seeing how ill they had seeded, and what a sorryend their expedition hade to, said to the bachelor, "sureenough, senor samson carrasco, we are served right; it is easyenough to n and set about an enterprise, but it is often adifficult matter toe well out of it. don quixote a madman, andwe sane; he goes offughing, safe, and sound, and you are leftsore and sorry! id like to know now which is the madder, he who is sobecause he cannot help it, or he who is so of his own choice?" to which samson replied, "the difference between the two sorts ofmadmen is, that he who is so will he nil he, will be one always, whilehe who is so of his own ord can leave off being one whenever helikes." "in that case," said tom cecial, "i was a madman of my own ordwhen i volunteered to be your squire, and, of my own ord,ill leave off being one and go home." "thats your affair," returned samson, "but to suppose that i amgoing home until i have given don quixote a thrashing is absurd; andit is not any wish that he may recover his senses that will make mehunt him out now, but a wish for the sore pain i am in with my ribswont let me entertain more ²åritable thoughts." thus discoursing, the pair proceeded until they reached a town whereit was their good luck to find a bone-setter, with whose help theunfortunate samson was cured. tom cecial left him and went home, whilehe stayed behind meditating vengeance; and the history will returnto him again at the proper time, so as not to omit making merry withdon quixote now. ²åpter xvi of what befell don quixote with a discreet gentleman of man²å don quixote pursued his journey in the high spirits, satisfaction,and selfcency already described, fancying himself the mostvalorous knight-errant of the age in the world because of histevictory. all the adventures that could befall him from that time forthhe regarded as already done and brought to a happy issue; he madelight of en²åntments and en²ånters; he thought no more of thecountless drubbings that had been administered to him in the course ofhis knight-errantry, nor of the volley of stones that had levelledhalf his teeth, nor of the ingratitude of the galley ves, nor ofthe audacity of the yanguesans and the shower of stakes that fell uponhim; in short, he said to himself that could he discover any means,mode, or way of disen²ånting hisdy dulcinea, he would not envy thehighest fortune that the most fortunate knight-errant of yore everreached or could reach.
µÚ122Ò³ he was going along entirely absorbed in these fancies, when sanchosaid to him, "isnt it odd, senor, that i have still before my eyesthat monstrous enormous nose of my gossip, tom cecial?" "and dost thou, then, believe, sancho," said don quixote, "thatthe knight of the mirrors was the bachelor carrasco, and his squiretom cecial thy gossip?" "i dont know what to say to that," replied sancho; "all i know isthat the tokens he gave me about my own house, wife and children,nobody else but himself could have given me; and the face, once thenose was off, was the very face of tom cecial, as i have seen itmany a time in my town and next door to my own house; and the sound ofthe voice was just the same." "let us reason the matter, sancho," said don quixote. "e now,by what process of thinking can it be supposed that the bachelorsamson carrasco woulde as a knight-errant, in arms offensive anddefensive, to fight with me? have i ever been by any ²ånce his enemy?have i ever given him any asion to owe me a grudge? am i his rival,or does he profess arms, that he should envy the fame i haveacquired in them?" "well, but what are we to say, senor," returned sancho, "aboutthat knight, whoever he is, being so like the bachelor carrasco, andhis squire so like my gossip, tom cecial? and if that been²åntment, as your worship says, was there no other pair in theworld for them to take the likeness of?" "it is all," said don quixote, "a scheme and plot of the malignantmagicians that persecute me, who, foreseeing that i was to bevictorious in the conflict, arranged that the vanquiÉäd knight shoulddisy the countenance of my friend the bachelor, in order that thefriendship i bear him should interpose to stay the edge of my swordand might of my arm, and temper the just wrath of my heart; so that hewho sought to take my life by fraud and falsehood should save his own.and to prove it, thou knowest already, sancho, by experience whichcannot lie or deceive, how easy it is for en²ånters to ²ånge onecountenance into another, turning fair into foul, and foul intofair; for it is not two days since thou sawest with thine own eyes thebeauty and elegance of the peerless dulcinea in all its perfection andnatural harmony, while i saw her in the repulsive and mean form of acoarse country wench, with cataracts in her eyes and a foul smell inher mouth; and when the perverse en²ånter ventured to effect sowicked a transformation, it is no wonder if he effected that of samsoncarrasco and thy gossip in order to snatch the glory of victory out ofmy grasp. for all that, however, i console myself, because, after all,in whatever shape he may have been, i have victorious over my enemy." "god knows whats the truth of it all," said sancho; and knowingas he did that the transformation of dulcinea had been a device andimposition of his own, his masters illusions were not satisfactory tohim; but he did not like to reply lest he should say something thatmight disclose his trickery. as they were engaged in this conversation they were overtaken by aman who was following the same road behind them, mounted on a veryhandsome flea-bitten mare, and dressed in a gaban of fine green cloth,with tawny velvet facings, and a montera of the same velvet. thetrappings of the mare were of the field and ja fashion, and ofmulberry colour and green. he carried a moorish cuss hanging from abroad green and gold baldric; the buskins were of the same make as thebaldric; the spurs were not gilt, butcquered green, and so brightlypoliÉäd that, matching as they did the rest of his apparel, theylooked better than if they had been of pure gold. when the traveller came up with them he saluted them courteously,and spurring his mare was passing them without stopping, but donquixote called out to him, "gant sir, if so be your worship isgoing our road, and has no asion for speed, it would be apleasure to me if we were to joinpany." "in truth," replied he on the mare, "i would not pass you so hastilybut for fear that horse might turn restive in thepany of my mare." "you may safely hold in your mare, senor," said sancho in reply tothis, "for our horse is the most virtuous and well-behaved horse inthe world; he never does anything wrong on such asions, and theonly time he misbehaved, my master and i suffered for it sevenfold;i say again your worship may pull up if you like; for if Éä wasoffered to him between two tes the horse would not hanker afterher." the traveller drew rein, amazed at the trim and features of donquixote, who rode without his helmet, which sancho carried like avalise in front of dapples pack-saddle; and if the man in greenexamined don quixote closely, still more closely did don quixoteexamine the man in green, who struck him as being a man ofintelligence. in appearance he was about fifty years of age, withbut few grey hairs, an aquiline cast of features, and an expressionbetween grave and gay; and his dress and outrements showed him tobe a man of good condition. what he in green thought of don quixote o man²å was that a man of that sort and shape he had never yet seen;he marvelled at the length of his hair, his lofty stature, thnkness and sallowness of his countenance, his armour, his bearingand his gravity- a figure and picture such as had not been seen inthose regions for many a long day. don quixote saw very inly the attention with which thetraveller was regarding him, and read his curiosity in hisastonishment; and courteous as he was and ready to please everybody,before the other could ask him any question he anticipated him bysaying, "the appearance i present to your worship being so strange andso out of themon, i should not be surprised if it filled youwith wonder; but you will cease to wonder when i tell you, as i do,that i am one of those knights who, as people say, go seekingadventures. i have left my home, i have mortgaged my estate, i havegiven up myforts, andmitted myself to the arms of fortune,to bear me whithersoever Éä may please. my desire was to bring tolife again knight-errantry, now dead, and for some time past,stumbling here, falling there, nowing down headlong, now raisingmyself up again, i have carried out a great portion of my design,souring widows, protecting maidens, and giving aid to wives,orphans, and minors, the proper and natural duty of knights-errant;and, therefore, because of my many valiant and christian achievements,i have been already found worthy to make my way in print towell-nigh all, or most, of the nations of the earth. thirty thousandvolumes of my history have been printed, and it is on the high-road tobe printed thirty thousand thousands of times, if heaven does notput a stop to it. in short, to sum up all in a few words, or in asingle one, i may tell you i am don quixote of man²å, otherwisecalled the knight of the rueful countenance; for thoughself-praise is degrading, i must perforce sound my own sometimes, thatis to say, when there is no one at hand to do it for me. so that,gentle sir, neither this horse, nor thisnce, nor this shield, northis squire, nor all these arms put together, nor the sallowness of mycountenance, nor my gaunt leanness, will henceforth astonish you,now that you know who i am and what profession i follow." with these words don quixote held his peace, and, from the time hetook to answer, the man in green seemed to be at a loss for a reply;after a long pause, however, he said to him, "you were right whenyou saw curiosity in my amazement, sir knight; but you have notseeded in removing the astonishment i feel at seeing you; foralthough you say, senor, that knowing who you are ought to removeit, it has not done so; on the contrary, now that i know, i am leftmore amazed and astoniÉäd than before. what! is it possible thatthere are knights-errant in the world in these days, and historiesof real chivalry printed? i cannot realise the fact that there canbe anyone on earth now-a-days who aids widows, or protects maidens, ordefends wives, or sours orphans; nor should i believe it had inot seen it in your worship with my own eyes. blessed be heaven! forby means of this history of your noble and genuine chivalrous deeds,which you say has been printed, the countless stories of fictitiousknights-errant with which the world is filled, so much to the injuryof morality and the prejudice and discredit of good histories, willhave been driven into oblivion." "there is a good deal to be said on that point," said don quixote,"as to whether the histories of the knights-errant are fiction ornot." "why, is there anyone who doubts that those histories are false?"said the man in green. "i doubt it," said don quixote, "but never mind that just now; ifour journeysts long enough, i trust in god i shall show yourworship that you do wrong in going with the stream of those who regardit as a matter of certainty that they are not true." from thisst observation of don quixotes, the traveller beganto have a suspicion that he was some crazy being, and was waitinghim to confirm it by something further; but before they could turnto any new subject don quixote begged him to tell him who he was,since he himself had rendered ount of his station and life. tothis, he in the green gaban replied "i, sir knight of the ruefulcountenance, am a gentleman by birth, native of the vige where,please god, we are going to dine today; i am more than fairly welloff, and my name is don diego de miranda. i pass my life with my wife,children, and friends; my pursuits are hunting and fishing, but i keepneither hawks nor greyhounds, nothing but a tame partridge or a boldferret or two; i have six dozen or so of books, some in our mothertongue, sometin, some of them history, others devotional; thoseof chivalry have not as yet crossed the threshold of my door; i ammore given to turning over the profane than the devotional, so long asthey are books of honest entertainment that ²årm by their style andattract and interest by the invention they disy, though of thesethere are very few in spain. sometimes i dine with my neighbours andfriends, and often invite them; my entertainments are neat and wellserved without stint of anything. i have no taste for tattle, nor do iallow tattling in my presence; i pry not into my neighbours lives,nor have i lynx-eyes for what others do. i hear mass every day; ishare my substance with the poor, making no disy of good works,lest i let hypocrisy and vainglory, those enemies that subtly takepossession of the most watchful heart, find an entrance into mine. istrive to make peace between those whom i know to be at variance; i amthe devoted servant of ourdy, and my trust is ever in theinfinite mercy of god our lord."
µÚ123Ò³ sancho listened with the greatest attention to the ount of thegentlemans life and upation; and thinking it a good and a holylife, and that he who led it ought to work miracles, he threwhimself off dapple, and running in haste seized his right stirrupand kissed his foot again and again with a devout heart and almostwith tears. seeing this the gentleman asked him, "what are you about, brother?what are these kisses for?" "let me kiss," said sancho, "for i think your worship is the firstsaint in the saddle i ever saw all the days of my life." "i am no saint," replied the gentleman, "but a great sinner; but youare, brother, for you must be a good fellow, as your simplicityshows." sancho went back and regained his pack-saddle, having extracted ugh from his masters profound mncholy, and excited freshamazement in don diego. don quixote then asked him how many childrenhe had, and observed that one of the things wherein the ancientphilosophers, who were without the true knowledge of god, ced thesummum bonum was in the gifts of nature, in those of fortune, inhaving many friends, and many and good children. "i, senor don quixote," answered the gentleman, "have one son,without whom, perhaps, i should count myself happier than i am, notbecause he is a bad son, but because he is not so good as i couldwish. he is eighteen years of age; he has been for six at smancastudyingtin and greek, and when i wiÉäd him to turn to the studyof other sciences i found him so wrapped up in that of poetry £¨if thatcan be called a science£© that there is no getting him to take kindlyto thew, which i wiÉäd him to study, or to theology, the queenof them all. i would like him to be an honour to his family, as welive in days when our kings liberally reward learning that is virtuousand worthy; for learning without virtue is a pearl on a dunghill. hespends the whole day in settling whether homer expressed himselfcorrectly or not in such and such a line of the iliad, whether martialwas indecent or not in such and such an epigram, whether such and suchlines of virgil are to be understood in this way or in that; in short,all his talk is of the works of these poets, and those of horace,perseus, juvenal, and tibullus; for of the moderns in our ownnguagehe makes no great ount; but with all his seeming indifference tospanish poetry, just now his thoughts are absorbed in making a glosson four lines that have been sent him from smanca, which isuspect are for some poetical tournament." to all this don quixote said in reply, "children, senor, areportions of their parents bowels, and therefore, be they good or bad,are to be loved as we love the souls that give us life; it is forthe parents to guide them from infancy in the ways of virtue,propriety, and worthy christian conduct, so that when grown up theymay be the staff of their parents old age, and the glory of theirposterity; and to force them to study this or that science i do notthink wise, though it may be no harm to persuade them; and whenthere is no need to study for the sake of pane lucrando, and it is thestudents good fortune that heaven has given him parents who providehim with it, it would be my advice to them to let him pursuewhatever science they may see him most inclined to; and though that ofpoetry is less useful than pleasurable, it is not one of those thatbring discredit upon the possessor. poetry, gentle sir, is, as itake it, like a tender young maiden of supreme beauty, to array,bedeck, and adorn whom is the task of several other maidens, who areall the rest of the sciences; and Éä must avail herself of the helpof all, and all derive their lustre from her. but this maiden will notbear to be handled, nor dragged through the streets, nor exposedeither at the corners of the market-ces, or in the closets ofpces. Éä is the product of an alchemy of such virtue that he whois able to practise it, will turn her into pure gold of inestimableworth. he that possesses her must keep her within bounds, notpermitting her to break out in ribald satires or soulless sos. Éämust on no ount be offered for sale, unless, indeed, it be inheroic poems, moving tragedies, or sprightly and ingeniousedies.Éä must not be touched by the buffoons, nor by the ignorant vulgar,incapable ofprehending or appreciating her hidden treasures. anddo not suppose, senor, that i apply the term vulgar here merely toplebeians and the lower orders; for everyone who is ignorant, be helord or prince, may and should be included among the vulgar. he, then,who shall embrace and cultivate poetry under the conditions i havenamed, shall be famous, and his name honoured throughout all thecivilised nations of the earth. and with regard to what you say,senor, of your son having no great opinion of spanish poetry, i aminclined to think that he is not quite right there, and for thisreason: the great poet homer did not write intin, because he wasa greek, nor did virgil write in greek, because he was atin; inshort, all the ancient poets wrote in thenguage they imbibed withtheir mothers milk, and never went in quest of foreign ones toexpress their sublime conceptions; and that being so, the usage shouldin justice extend to all nations, and the german poet should not beundervalued because he writes in his ownnguage, nor thecastilian, nor even the biscayan, for writing in his. but your son,senor, i suspect, is not prejudiced against spanish poetry, butagainst those poets who are mere spanish verse writers, without anyknowledge of othernguages or sciences to adorn and give life andvigour to their natural inspiration; and yet even in this he may bewrong; for, ording to a true belief, a poet is born one; that is tosay, the poet by naturees forth a poet from his mothers womb; andfollowing the bent that heaven has bestowed upon him, without theaid of study or art, he produces things that show how truly he spokewho said, est deus in nobis, &c. at the same time, i say that thepoet by nature who calls in art to his aid will be a far betterpoet, and will surpass him who tries to be one relying upon hisknowledge of art alone. the reason is, that art does not surpassnature, but only brings it to perfection; and thus, naturebinedwith art, and art with nature, will produce a perfect poet. to bringmy argument to a close, i would say then, gentle sir, let your songo on as his star leads him, for being so studious as he seems tobe, and having already sessfully surmounted the first step of thesciences, which is that of thenguages, with their help he will byhis own exertions reach the summit of polite literature, which so wellbes an independent gentleman, and adorns, honours, anddistinguiÉäs him, as much as the mitre does the bishop, or the gownthe learned counsellor. if your son write satires reflecting on thehonour of others, chide and correct him, and tear them up; but if hpose discourses in which he rebukes vice in general, in the styleof horace, and with elegance like his,mend him; for it islegitimate for a poet to write against envy andsh the envious inhis verse, and the other vices too, provided he does not single outindividuals; there are, however, poets who, for the sake of sayingsomething spiteful, would run the risk of being baniÉäd to thecoast of pontus. if the poet be pure in his morals, he will be pure inhis verses too; the pen is the tongue of the mind, and as the thoughtengendered there, so will be the things that it writes down. and whenkings and princes observe this marvellous science of poetry in wise,virtuous, and thoughtful subjects, they honour, value, exalt them, andeven crown them with the leaves of that tree which the thunderboltstrikes not, as if to show that they whose brows are honoured andadorned with such a crown are not to be assailed by anyone." he of the green gaban was filled with astonishment at don quixotesargument, so much so that he began to abandon the notion he had takenup about his being crazy. but in the middle of the discourse, it beingnot very much to his taste, sancho had turned aside out of the road tobeg a little milk from some Éäpherds, who were milking their eweshard by; and just as the gentleman, highly pleased, was about to renewthe conversation, don quixote, raising his head, perceived a cartcovered with royal gsing along the road they were travelling;and persuaded that this must be some new adventure, he called aloud tosancho toe and bring him his helmet. sancho, hearing himselfcalled, quitted the Éäpherds, and, prodding dapple vigorously, cameup to his master, to whom there fell a terrific and desperateadventure.²åpter xvii wherein is shown the furthest and highest point which the unexampledcourage of don quixote reached or could reach; together with thehappily achieved adventure of the lions the history tells that when don quixote called out to sancho tobring him his helmet, sancho was buying some curds the Éäpherdsagreed to sell him, and flurried by the great haste his master wasin did not know what to do with them or what to carry them in; so, notto lose them, for he had already paid for them, he thought it bestto throw them into his masters helmet, and acting on this bright ideahe went to see what his master wanted with him. he, as heapproached, eximed to him: "give me that helmet, my friend, for either i know little ofadventures, or what i observe yonder is one that will, and does,call upon me to arm myself." he of the green gaban, on hearing this, looked in all directions,but could perceive nothing, except a carting towards them with twoor three small gs, which led him to conclude it must be carryingtreasure of the kings, and he said so to don quixote. he, however,would not believe him, being always persuaded and convinced that allthat happened to him must be adventures and still more adventures;so he replied to the gentleman, "he who is prepared has his battlehalf fought; nothing is lost by my preparing myself, for i know byexperience that i have enemies, visible and invisible, and i knownot when, or where, or at what moment, or in what shapes they wittack me;" and turning to sancho he called for his helmet; andsancho, as he had no time to take out the curds, had to give it justas it was. don quixote took it, and without perceiving what was init thrust it down in hot haste upon his head; but as the curds werepressed and squeezed the whey began to run all over his face andbeard, whereat he was so startled that he cried out to sancho:
µÚ124Ò³ "sancho, whats this? i think my head is softening, or my brains aremelting, or i am sweating from head to foot! if i am sweating it isnot indeed from fear. i am convinced beyond a doubt that the adventurewhich is about to befall me is a terrible one. give me something towipe myself with, if thou hast it, for this profuse sweat isblinding me." sancho held his tongue, and gave him a cloth, and gave thanks to godat the same time that his master had not found out what was thematter. don quixote then wiped himself, and took off his helmet to seewhat it was that made his head feel so cool, and seeing all that whitemash inside his helmet he put it to his nose, and as soon as he hadsmelt it he eximed: "by the life of mydy dulcinea del toboso, but it is curds thouhast put here, thou treacherous, impudent, ill-mannered squire!" to which, with greatposure and pretended innocence, sanchoreplied, "if they are curds let me have them, your worship, and illeat them; but let the devil eat them, for it must have been he who putthem there. i dare to dirty your helmet! you have guessed the offenderfinely! faith, sir, by the light god gives me, it seems i must haveen²ånters too, that persecute me as a creature and limb of yourworship, and they must have put that nastiness there in order toprovoke your patience to anger, and make you baste my ribs as youare wont to do. well, this time, indeed, they have missed their aim,for i trust to my masters good sense to see that i have got nocurds or milk, or anything of the sort; and that if i had it is inmy stomach i would put it and not in the helmet." "may he so," said don quixote. all this the gentleman was observing,and with astonishment, more especially when, after having wipedhimself clean, his head, face, beard, and helmet, don quixote put iton, and settling himself firmly in his stirrups, easing his sword inthe scabbard, and grasping hisnce, he cried, "now,e who will,here am i, ready to try conclusions with satan himself in person!" by this time the cart with the gs hade up, unattended byanyone except the carter on a mule, and a man sitting in front. donquixote nted himself before it and said, "whither are you going,brothers? what cart is this? what have you got in it? what gs arethose?" to this the carter replied, "the cart is mine; what is in it is apair of wild caged lions, which the governor of oran is sending tocourt as a present to his majesty; and the gs are our lord thekings, to show that what is here is his property." "and are the lionsrge?" asked don quixote. "sorge," replied the man who sat at the door of the cart, "tharger, or asrge, have never crossed from africa to spain; i am thekeeper, and i have brought over others, but never any like these. theyare male and female; the male is in that first cage and the femalein the one behind, and they are hungry now, for they have eatennothing to-day, so let your worship stand aside, for we must makehaste to the ce where we are to feed them." hereupon, smiling slightly, don quixote eximed, "lion-whelps tome! to me whelps of lions, and at such a time! then, by god! thosegentlemen who send them here shall see if i am a man to befrightened by lions. get down, my good fellow, and as you are thekeeper open the cages, and turn me out those beasts, and in themidst of this in i will let them know who don quixote ofman²å is, in spite and in the teeth of the en²ånters who send themto me." "so, so," said the gentleman to himself at this; "our worthyknight has shown of what sort he is; the curds, no doubt, havesoftened his skull and brought his brains to a head." at this instant sancho came up to him, saying, "senor, for godssake do something to keep my master, don quixote, from tacklingthese lions; for if he does theyll tear us all to pieces here." "is your master then so mad," asked the gentleman, "that you believeand are afraid he will engage such fierce animals?" "he is not mad," said sancho, "but he is venturesome." "i will prevent it," said the gentleman; and going over to donquixote, who was insisting upon the keepers opening the cages, hesaid to him, "sir knight, knights-errant should attempt adventureswhich encourage the hope of a sessful issue, not those whichentirely withhold it; for valour that trenches upon temerity savoursrather of madness than of courage; moreover, these lions do noteto oppose you, nor do they dream of such a thing; they are going aspresents to his majesty, and it will not be right to stop them ordy their journey." "gentle sir," replied don quixote, "you go and mind your tamepartridge and your bold ferret, and leave everyone to manage his ownbusiness; this is mine, and i know whether these gentlemen the lione to me or not;" and then turning to the keeper he eximed, "byall thats good, sir scoundrel, if you dont open the cages thisvery instant, ill pin you to the cart with thisnce." the carter, seeing the determination of this apparition in armour,said to him, "please your worship, for ²åritys sake, senor, let meunyoke the mules and ce myself in safety along with them before thelions are turned out; for if they kill them on me i am ruined forlife, for all i possess is this cart and mules." "o man of little faith," replied don quixote, "get down andunyoke; you will soon see that you are exerting yourself fornothing, and that you might have spared yourself the trouble." the carter got down and with all speed unyoked the mules, and thekeeper called out at the top of his voice, "i call all here to witnessthat against my will and underpulsion i open the cages and let thelions loose, and that i warn this gentleman that he will beountable for all the harm and mischief which these beasts may do,and for my sry and dues as well. you, gentlemen, ce yourselvesin safety before i open, for i know they will do me no harm." once more the gentleman strove to persuade don quixote not to dosuch a mad thing, as it was tempting god to engage in such a pieceof folly. to this, don quixote replied that he knew what he was about.the gentleman in return entreated him to reflect, for he knew he wasunder a delusion. "well, senor," answered don quixote, "if you do not like to be aspectator of this tragedy, as in your opinion it will be, spur yourflea-bitten mare, and ce yourself in safety." hearing this, sancho with tears in his eyes entreated him to give upan enterprisepared with which the one of the windmills, and theawful one of the fulling mills, and, in fact, all the feats he hadattempted in the whole course of his life, were cakes and fancy bread."look ye, senor," said sancho, "theres no en²åntment here, noranything of the sort, for between the bars and chinks of the cage ihave seen the paw of a real lion, and judging by that i reckon thelion such a paw could belong to must be bigger than a mountain." "fear at any rate," replied don quixote, "will make him lookbigger to thee than half the world. retire, sancho, and leave me;and if i die here thou knowest our oldpact; thou wilt repair todulcinea- i say no more." to these he added some further words thatbaniÉäd all hope of his giving up his insane project. he of the greengaban would have offered resistance, but he found himselfill-matched as to arms, and did not think it prudent toe toblows with a madman, for such don quixote now showed himself to bein every respect; and thetter, renewing hismands to thekeeper and repeating his threats, gave warning to the gentleman tospur his mare, sancho his dapple, and the carter his mules, allstriving to get away from the cart as far as they could before thelions broke loose. sancho was weeping over his masters death, forthis time he firmly believed it was in store for him from the ws ofthe lions; and he cursed his fate and called it an unlucky hour whenhe thought of taking service with him again; but with all his tearsandmentations he did not forget to thrash dapple so as to put agood space between himself and the cart. the keeper, seeing that thefugitives were now some distance off, once more entreated and warnedhim as before; but he replied that he heard him, and that he neednot trouble himself with any further warnings or entreaties, as theywould be fruitless, and bade him make haste. during the dy that urred while the keeper was opening thefirst cage, don quixote was considering whether it would not be wellto do battle on foot, instead of on horseback, and finally resolved tofight on foot, fearing that rocinante might take fright at the sightof the lions; he therefore sprang off his horse, flung hisnceaside, braced his buckler on his arm, and drawing his sword,advanced slowly with marvellous intrepidity and resolute courage, tont himself in front of the cart,mending himself with all hiÉäart to god and to hisdy dulcinea. it is to be observed, that oning to this passage, the authorof this veracious history breaks out into exmations. "o doughty donquixote! high-mettled past extolling! mirror, wherein all the heroesof the world may see themselves! second modern don manuel de leon,once the glory and honour of spanish knighthood! in what words shall idescribe this dread exploit, by whatnguage shall i make it credibleto ages toe, what eulogies are there unmeet for thee, thoughthey be hyperboles piled on hyperboles! on foot, alone, undaunted,high-souled, with but a simple sword, and that no tren²ånt de ofthe perrillo brand, a shield, but no bright poliÉäd steel one,there stoodst thou, biding and awaiting the two fiercest lions thatafricas forests ever bred! thy own deeds be thy praise, valiantmanchegan, and here i leave them as they stand, wanting the wordswherewith to glorify them!"
µÚ125Ò³ here the authors outburst came to an end, and he proceeded totake up the thread of his story, saying that the keeper, seeing thatdon quixote had taken up his position, and that it was impossiblefor him to avoid letting out the male without incurring the enmityof the fiery and daring knight, flung open the doors of the firstcage, containing, as has been said, the lion, which was now seen to beof enormous size, and grim and hideous mien. the first thing he didwas to turn round in the cage in which hey, and protrude his ws,and stretch himself thoroughly; he next opened his mouth, and yawnedvery leisurely, and with near two palms length of tongue that hehad thrust forth, he licked the dust out of his eyes and waÉäd hisface; having done this, he put his head out of the cage and looked allround with eyes like glowing coals, a spectacle and demeanour tostrike terror into temerity itself. don quixote merely observed himsteadily, longing for him to leap from the cart ande to closequarters with him, when he hoped to hew him in pieces. so far did his unparalleled madness go; but the noble lion, morecourteous than arrogant, not troubling himself about silly bravado,after having looked all round, as has been said, turned about andpresented his hind-quarters to don quixote, and very coolly andtranquillyy down again in the cage. seeing this, don quixoteordered the keeper to take a stick to him and provoke him to makehime out. "that i wont," said the keeper; "for if i anger him, the firsthell tear in pieces will be myself. be satisfied, sir knight, withwhat you have done, which leaves nothing more to be said on thescore of courage, and do not seek to tempt fortune a second time.the lion has the door open; he is free toe out or not toe out;but as he has note out so far, he will note out to-day. yourworships great courage has been fully manifested already; no brave²åmpion, so it strikes me, is bound to do more than ²ållenge hisenemy and wait for him on the field; if his adversary does note,on him lies the disgrace, and he who waits for him carries off thecrown of victory." "that is true," said don quixote; "close the door, my friend, andlet me have, in the best form thou canst, what thou hast seen me do,by way of certificate; to wit, that thou didst open for the lion, thati waited for him, that he did note out, that i still waited forhim, and that still he did note out, andy down again. i amnot bound to do more; en²åntments avaunt, and god uphold the right,the truth, and true chivalry! close the door as i bade thee, while imake signals to the fugitives that have left us, that they may learnthis exploit from thy lips." the keeper obeyed, and don quixote, fiÐÔ on the point of hisncethe cloth he had wiped his face with after the deluge of curds,proceeded to recall the others, who still continued to fly, lookingback at every step, all in a body, the gentleman bringing up the rear.sancho, however, happening to observe the signal of the white cloth,eximed, "may i die, if my master has not ovee the wildbeasts, for he is calling to us." they all stopped, and perceived that it was don quixote who wasmaking signals, and shaking off their fears to some extent, theyapproached slowly until they were near enough to hear distinctly donquixotes voice calling to them. they returned at length to thecart, and as they came up, don quixote said to the carter, "put yourmules to once more, brother, and continue your journey; and do thou,sancho, give him two gold crowns for himself and the keeper, tpensate for the dy they have incurred through me." "that will i give with all my heart," said sancho; "but what hasbe of the lions? are they dead or alive?" the keeper, then, in full detail, and bit by bit, described theend of the contest, exalting to the best of his power and abilitythe valour of don quixote, at the sight of whom the lion quailed,and would not and dared note out of the cage, although he had heldthe door open ever so long; and showing how, in consequence of hishaving represented to the knight that it was tempting god to provokethe lion in order to force him out, which he wiÉäd to have done, hevery reluctantly, and altogether against his will, had allowed thedoor to be closed. "what dost thou think of this, sancho?" said don quixote. "are thereany en²åntments that can prevail against true valour? theen²ånters may be able to rob me of good fortune, but of fortitude andcourage they cannot." sancho paid the crowns, the carter put to, the keeper kissed donquixotes hands for the bounty bestowed upon him, and promised to givean ount of the valiant exploit to the king himself, as soon as hesaw him at court. "then," said don quixote, "if his majesty should happen to ask whoperformed it, you must say the knight of the lions; for it is mydesire that into this the name i have hitherto borne of knight ofthe rueful countenance be from this time forward ²ånged, altered,transformed, and turned; and in this i follow the ancient usage ofknights-errant, who ²ånged their names when they pleased, or whenit suited their purpose." the cart went its way, and don quixote, sancho, and he of thegreen gaban went theirs. all this time, don diego de miranda had notspoken a word, being entirely taken up with observing and noting allthat don quixote did and said, and the opinion he formed was that hewas a man of brains gone mad, and a madman on the verge ofrationality. the first part of his history had not yet reached him,for, had he read it, the amazement with which his words and deedsfilled him would have vaniÉäd, as he would then have understood thenature of his madness; but knowing nothing of it, he took him to berational one moment, and crazy the next, for what he said wassensible, elegant, and well expressed, and what he did, absurd,rash, and foolish; and said he to himself, "what could be madderthan putting on a helmet full of curds, and then persuading oneselfthat en²ånters are softening ones skull; or what could be greaterrashness and folly than wanting to fight lions tooth and nail?" don quixote roused him from these reflections and this soliloquyby saying, "no doubt, senor don diego de miranda, you set me down inyour mind as a fool and a madman, and it would be no wonder if youdid, for my deeds do not argue anything else. but for all that, iwould have you take notice that i am neither so mad nor so foolishas i must have seemed to you. a gant knight shows to advantagebringing hisnce to bear adroitly upon a fierce bull under theeyes of his sovereign, in the midst of a spacious za; a knightshows to advantage arrayed in glittering armour, pacing the listsbefore thedies in some joyous tournament, and all those knightsshow to advantage that entertain, divert, and, if we may say so,honour the courts of their princes by warlike exercises, or whatresemble them; but to greater advantage than all these does aknight-errant show when he traverses deserts, solitudes,cross-roads, forests, and mountains, in quest of perilousadventures, bent on bringing them to a happy and sessful issue, allto win a glorious andsting renown. to greater advantage, imaintain, does the knight-errant show bringing aid to some widow insome lonely waste, than the court knight dallying with some citydamsel. all knights have their own special parts to y; let thecourtier devote himself to thedies, let him add lustre to hissovereigns court by his liveries, let him entertain poor gentlemenwith the sumptuous fare of his table, let him arrange joustings,marshal tournaments, and prove himself noble, generous, andmagnificent, and above all a good christian, and so doing he willfulfil the duties that are especially his; but let the knight-errantexplore the corners of the earth and prate the most intricatbyrinths, at each step let him attempt impossibilities, ondeste heaths let him endure the burning rays of the midsummersun, and the bitter inclemency of the winter winds and frosts; letno lions daunt him, no monsters terrify him, no dragons make himquail; for to seek these, to attack those, and to vanquish all, are intruth his main duties. i, then, as it has fallen to my lot to be amember of knight-errantry, cannot avoid attempting all that to meseems toe within the sphere of my duties; thus it was my boundenduty to attack those lions that i just now attacked, although i knewit to be the height of rashness; for i know well what valour is,that it is a virtue that upies a ce between two viciousextremes, cowardice and temerity; but it will be a lesser evil for himwho is valiant to rise till he reaches the point of rashness, thanto sink until he reaches the point of cowardice; for, as it iseasier for the prodigal than for the miser to be generous, so itis easier for a rash man to prove truly valiant than for a coward torise to true valour; and believe me, senor don diego, in attemptingadventures it is better to lose by a card too many than by a cardtoo few; for to hear it said, such a knight is rash and daring,sounds better than such a knight is timid and cowardly." "i protest, senor don quixote," said don diego, "everything you havesaid and done is proved correct by the test of reason itself; and ibelieve, if thews and ordinances of knight-errantry should be lost,they might be found in your worships breast as in their own properdepository and muniment-house; but let us make haste, and reach myvige, where you shall take rest after yourte exertions; for ifthey have not been of the body they have been of the spirit, and thesesometimes tend to produce bodily fatigue."
µÚ126Ò³ "i take the invitation as a great favour and honour, senor dondiego," replied don quixote; and pressing forward at a better pacethan before, at about two in the afternoon they reached the vigeand house of don diego, or, as don quixote called him, "the knightof the green gaban."²åpter xviii of what happened don quixote in the castle or house of the knight ofthe green gaban, together with other matters out of themon don quixote found don diego de mirandas house built in vigestyle, with his arms in rough stone over the street door; in the patiowas the store-room, and at the entrance the cer, with plenty ofwine-jars standing round, which,ing from el toboso, brought backto his memory his en²ånted and transformed dulcinea; and with a sigh,and not thinking of what he was saying, or in whose presence he was,he eximed- "o ye sweet treasures, to my sorrow found! once sweet and wee when twas heavens good-will.o ye tobosan jars, how ye bring back to my memory the sweet objectof my bitter regrets!" the student poet, don diegos son, who hade out with hismother to receive him, heard this exmation, and both mother and sonwere filled with amazement at the extraordinary figure he presented;he, however, dismounting from rocinante, advanced with greatpoliteness to ask permission to kiss thedys hand, while dondiego said, "senora, pray receive with your wonted kindness senordon quixote of man²å, whom you see before you, a knight-errant,and the bravest and wisest in the world." thedy, whose name was dona christina, received him with everysign of good-will and great courtesy, and don quixote ced himselfat her service with an abundance of well-chosen and poliÉädphrases. almost the same civilities were ex²ånged between him and thestudent, who listening to don quixote, took him to be a sensible,clear-headed person. here the author describes minutely everything belonging to dondiegos mansion, putting before us in his picture the whole contentsof a rich gentleman-farmers house; but the trantor of thehistory thought it best to pass over these and other details of thesame sort in silence, as they are not in harmony with the main purposeof the story, the strong point of which is truth rather than dulldigressions. they led don quixote into a room, and sancho removed his armour,leaving him in loose walloon breeches and ²åmois-leather doublet, allstained with the rust of his armour; his cor was a falling one ofschstic cut, without starch orce, his buskins buff-coloured, andhis shoes poliÉäd. he wore his good sword, which hung in a baldric ofsea-wolfs skin, for he had suffered for many years, they say, from anailment of the kidneys; and over all he threw a long cloak of goodgrey cloth. but first of all, with five or six buckets of water £¨foras regard the number of buckets there is some dispute£©£¬ he waÉädhis head and face, and still the water remained whey-coloured,thanks to sanchos greediness and pur²åse of those unlucky curds thatturned his master so white. thus arrayed, and with an easy, sprightly,and gant air, don quixote passed out into another room, where thestudent was waiting to entertain him while the table was beingid;for on the arrival of so distinguiÉäd a guest, dona christina wasanxious to show that Éä knew how and was able to give a bingreception to those who came to her house. while don quixote was taking off his armour, don lorenzo £¨for so dondiegos son was called£© took the opportunity to say to his father,"what are we to make of this gentleman you have brought home to us,sir? for his name, his appearance, and your describing him as aknight-errant havepletely puzzled my mother and me." "i dont know what to say, my son," replied. don diego; "all i cantell thee is that i have seen him act the acts of the greatestmadman in the world, and heard him make observations so sensiblethat they efface and undo all he does; do thou talk to him and feelthe pulse of his wits, and as thou art shrewd, form the mostreasonable conclusion thou canst as to his wisdom or folly; though, totell the truth, i am more inclined to take him to be mad than sane." with this don lorenzo went away to entertain don quixote as has beensaid, and in the course of the conversation that passed between themdon quixote said to don lorenzo, "your father, senor don diego demiranda, has told me of the rare abilities and subtle intellect youpossess, and, above all, that you are a great poet." "a poet, it may be," replied don lorenzo, "but a great one, by nomeans. it is true that i am somewhat given to poetry and to readinggood poets, but not so much so as to justify the title of greatwhich my father gives me." "i do not dislike that modesty," said don quixote; "for there isno poet who is not conceited and does not think he is the best poet inthe world." "there is no rule without an exception," said don lorenzo; "theremay be some who are poets and yet do not think they are." "very few," said don quixote; "but tell me, what verses are thosewhich you have now in hand, and which your father tells me keep yousomewhat restless and absorbed? if it be some gloss, i knowsomething about glosses, and i should like to hear them; and if theyare for a poetical tournament, contrive to carry off the second prize;for the first always goes by favour or personal standing, the secondby simple justice; and so the thirdes to be the second, and thefirst, reckoning in this way, will be third, in the same way aslicentiate degrees are conferred at the universities; but, for allthat, the title of first is a great distinction." "so far," said don lorenzo to himself, "i should not take you tobe a madman; but let us go on." so he said to him, "your worship hasapparently attended the schools; what sciences have you studied?" "that of knight-errantry," said don quixote, "which is as good asthat of poetry, and even a finger or two above it." "i do not know what science that is," said don lorenzo, "and untilnow i have never heard of it." "it is a science," said don quixote, "thatprehends in itself allor most of the sciences in the world, for he who professes it mustbe a jurist, and must know the rules of justice, distributive andequitable, so as to give to each one what belongs to him and is due tohim. he must be a theologian, so as to be able to give a clear anddistinctive reason for the christian faith he professes, wherever itmay be asked of him. he must be a physician, and above all aherbalist, so as in wastes and solitudes to know the herbs that havethe property of healing wounds, for a knight-errant must not golooking for some one to cure him at every step. he must be anastronomer, so as to know by the stars how many hours of the nighthave passed, and what clime and quarter of the world he is in. he mustknow mathematics, for at every turn some asion for them willpresent itself to him; and, putting it aside that he must be adornedwith all the virtues, cardinal and theological, toe down tominor particrs, he must, i say, be able to swim as well as nichsor nico the fish could, as the story goes; he must know how to shoea horse, and repair his saddle and bridle; and, to return to highermatters, he must be faithful to god and to hisdy; he must be purein thought, decorous in words, generous in works, valiant in deeds,patient in suffering,passionate towards the needy, and,stly, anupholder of the truth though its defence should cost him his life.of all these qualities, great and small, is a true knight-errantmade up; judge then, senor don lorenzo, whether it be a contemptiblescience which the knight who studies and professes it has to learn,and whether it may notpare with the very loftiest that aretaught in the schools." "if that be so," replied don lorenzo, "this science, i protest,surpasses all." "how, if that be so?" said don quixote. "what i mean to say," said don lorenzo, "is, that i doubt whetherthere are now, or ever were, any knights-errant, and adorned with suchvirtues." "many a time," replied don quixote, "have i said what i now say oncemore, that the majority of the world are of opinion that there neverwere any knights-errant in it; and as it is my opinion that, unlesÉäaven by some miracle brings home to them the truth that there wereand are, all the pains one takes will be in vain £¨as experience hasoften proved to me£©£¬ i will not now stop to disabuse you of theerror you share with the multitude. all i shall do is to pray toheaven to deliver you from it, and show you how beneficial andnecessary knights-errant were in days of yore, and how useful theywould be in these days were they but in vogue; but now, for the sinsof the people, sloth and indolence, gluttony and luxury aretriumphant." "our guest has broken out on our hands," said don lorenzo to himselfat this point; "but, for all that, he is a glorious madman, and ishould be a dull blockhead to doubt it." here, being summoned to dinner, they brought their colloquy to aclose. don diego asked his son what he had been able to make out as tothe wits of their guest. to which he replied, "all the doctors andclever scribes in the world will not make sense of the scrawl of hismadness; he is a madman full of streaks, full of lucid intervals."
µÚ127Ò³ they went in to dinner, and the repast was such as don diego said onthe road he was in the habit of giving to his guests, neat, plentiful,and tasty; but what pleased don quixote most was the marvelloussilence that reigned throughout the house, for it was like acarthusian monastery. when the cloth had been removed, grace said and their handswaÉäd, don quixote earnestly pressed don lorenzo to repeat to him hisverses for the poetical tournament, to which he replied, "not to belike those poets who, when they are asked to recite their verses,refuse, and when they are not asked for them vomit them up, i willrepeat my gloss, for which i do not expect any prize, havinposed it merely as an exercise of ingenuity." "a discerning friend of mine," said don quixote, "was of opinionthat no one ought to wastebour in glossing verses; and the reasonhe gave was that the gloss can nevere up to the text, and thatoften or most frequently it wanders away from the meaning andpurpose aimed at in the glossed lines; and besides, that thews ofthe gloss were too strict, as they did not allow interrogations, norsaid he, nor i say, nor turning verbs into nouns, or alteringthe construction, not to speak of other restrictions and limitationsthat fetter gloss-writers, as you no doubt know." "verily, senor don quixote," said don lorenzo, "i wish i could catchyour worship tripping at a stretch, but i cannot, for you slip throughmy fingers like an eel." "i dont understand what you say, or mean by slipping," said donquixote. "i will exin myself another time," said don lorenzo; "for thepresent pray attend to the glossed verses and the gloss, which runthus: could was be an is for me, then would i ask no more than this; or could, for me, the time that is be the time that is to be!- gloss dame fortune once upon a day to me was bountiful and kind; but all things ²ånge; Éä ²ånged her mind, and what Éä gave Éä took away. o fortune, long ive sued to thee; the gifts thou gavest me restore, for, trust me, i would ask no more, could was be an is for me. no other prize i seek to gain, no triumph, glory, or sess, only the long-lost happiness, the memory whereof is pain. one taste, methinks, of bygone bliss the heart-consuming fire might stay; and, so ite without dy, then would i ask no more than this. i ask what cannot be, s! that time should ever be, and then come back to us, and be again, no power on earth can bring to pass; for fleet of foot is he, i wis, and idly, therefore, do we pray that what for aye hath left us may be for us the time that is. perplexed, uncertain, to remain twixt hope and fear, is death, not life; twere better, sure, to end the strife, and dying, seek release from pain. and yet, thought were the best for me. anon the thought aside i fling, and to the present fondly cling, and dread the time that is to be." when don lorenzo had finiÉäd reciting his gloss, don quixotestood up, and in a loud voice, almost a shout, eximed as he graspeddon lorenzos right hand in his, "by the highest heavens, noble youth,but you are the best poet on earth, and deserve to be crowned witurel, not by cyprus or by gaeta- as a certain poet, god forgive him,said- but by the academies of athens, if they still flouriÉäd, and bythose that flourish now, paris, bologna, smanca. heaven grantthat the judges who rob you of the first prize- that phoebus maypierce them with his arrows, and the muses never cross thethresholds of their doors. repeat me some of your long-measure verses,senor, if you will be so good, for i want thoroughly to feel the pulseof your rare genius." is there any need to say that don lorenzo enjoyed hearing himselfpraised by don quixote, albeit he looked upon him as a madman? powerof ttery, how far-reaching art thou, and how wide are the bounds ofthy pleasant jurisdiction! don lorenzo gave a proof of it, for hplied with don quixotes request and entreaty, and repeated tohim this so on the fable or story of pyramus and thisbe. so the lovely maid, Éä pierces now the wall; heart-pierced by her young pyramus doth lie; and love spreads wing from cyprus isle to fly, a chink to view so wondrous great and small. there silence speaketh, for no voice at all can pass so strait a strait; but love will ply where to all other power twere vain to try; for love will find a way whateer befall. impatient of dy, with reckless pace the rash maid wins the fatal spot where Éä sinks not in lovers arms but deaths embrace. so runs the strange tale, how the lovers twain one sword, one sepulchre, one memory, ys, and entombs, and brings to life again. "blessed be god," said don quixote when he had heard don lorenzosso, "that among the hosts there are of irritable poets i havefound one consummate one, which, senor, the art of this soproves to me that you are!" for four days was don quixote most sumptuously entertained in dondiegos house, at the end of which time he asked his permission todepart, telling him he thanked him for the kindness and hospitality hehad received in his house, but that, as it did not beknights-errant to give themselves up for long to idleness andluxury, he was anxious to fulfill the duties of his calling in seekingadventures, of which he was informed there was an abundance in thatneighbourhood, where he hoped to employ his time until the day cameround for the jousts at saragossa, for that was his properdestination; and that, first of all, he meant to enter the cave ofmontesinos, of which so many marvellous things were reported allthrough the country, and at the same time to investigate and explorethe origin and true source of the sevenkesmonly called thkes of ruidera. don diego and his sonmended hisudable resolution, and badehim furnish himself with all he wanted from their house andbelongings, as they would most dly be of service to him; which,indeed, his personal worth and his honourable profession madeincumbent upon them. the day of his departure came at length, as wee to don quixoteas it was sad and sorrowful to sancho panza, who was very wellsatisfied with the abundance of don diegos house, and objected toreturn to the starvation of the woods and wilds and theshortmons of his ill-stocked alforjas; these, however, he filledand packed with what he considered needful. on taking leave, donquixote said to don lorenzo, "i know not whether i have told youalready, but if i have i tell you once more, that if you wish to spareyourself fatigue and toil in reaching the inessible summit of thetemple of fame, you have nothing to do but to turn aside out of thesomewhat narrow path of poetry and take the still narrower one ofknight-errantry, wide enough, however, to make you an emperor in thetwinkling of an eye." in this speech don quixote wound up the evidence of his madness, butstill better in what he added when he said, "god knows, i would dlytake don lorenzo with me to teach him how to spare the humble, andtrample the proud under foot, virtues that are part and parcel ofthe profession i belong to; but since his tender age does not allow ofit, nor his praiseworthy pursuits permit it, i will simply contentmyself with impressing it upon your worship that you will befamous as a poet if you are guided by the opinion of others ratherthan by your own; because no fathers or mothers ever think their ownchildren ill-favoured, and this sort of deception prevails stillmore strongly in the case of the children of the brain." both father and son were amazed afresh at the strange medley donquixote talked, at one moment sense, at another nonsense, and at thepertinacity and persistence he disyed in going through thick andthin in quest of his unlucky adventures, which he made the end and aimof his desires. there was a renewal of offers of service andcivilities, and then, with the gracious permission of thedy ofthe castle, they took their departure, don quixote on rocinante, andsancho on dapple.²åpter xix in which is rted the adventure of the enamoured Éäpherd,together with other truly droll incidents don quixote had gone but a short distance beyond don diegosvige, when he fell in with a couple of either priests orstudents, and a couple of peasants, mounted on four beasts of theass kind. one of the students carried, wrapped up in a piece ofgreen buckram by way of a portmanteau, what seemed to be a littlelinen and a couple of pairs of-ribbed stockings; the other carriednothing but a pair of new fencing-foils with buttons. the peasantscarried divers articles that showed they were on their way from somrge town where they had bought them, and were taking them home totheir vige; and both students and peasants were struck with thesame amazement that everybody felt who saw don quixote for the firsttime, and were dying to know who this man, so different fromordinary men, could be. don quixote saluted them, and afterascertaining that their road was the same as his, made them an offerof hispany, and begged them to cken their pace, as theiryoung asses travelled faster than his horse; and then, to gratifythem, he told them in a few words who he was and the calling andprofession he followed, which was that of a knight-errant seekingadventures in all parts of the world. he informed them that his ownname was don quixote of man²å, and that he was called, by way ofsurname, the knight of the lions.
µÚ128Ò³ all this was greek or gibberish to the peasants, but not so to thestudents, who very soon perceived the crack in don quixotes pate; forall that, however, they regarded him with admiration and respect,and one of them said to him, "if you, sir knight, have no fixedroad, as it is the way with those who seek adventures not to have any,let your worshipe with us; you will see one of the finest andrichest weddings that up to this day have ever been celebrated inman²å, or for many a league round." don quixote asked him if it was some princes, that he spoke of itin this way. "not at all," said the student; "it is the wedding of afarmer and a farmers daughter, he the richest in all this country,and Éä the fairest mortal ever set eyes on. the disy with which itis to be attended will be something rare and out of themon, for itwill be celebrated in a meadow adjoining the town of the bride, who iscalled, par excellence, quiteria the fair, as the bridegroom is calledcamacho the rich. Éä is eighteen, and he twenty-two, and they arefairly matched, though some knowing ones, who have all the pedigreesin the world by heart, will have it that the family of the fairquiteria is better than camachos; but no one minds that now-a-days,for wealth can solder a great many ws. at any rate, camacho isfree-handed, and it is his fancy to screen the whole meadow withboughs and cover it in overhead, so that the sun will have hard workif he tries to get in to reach the grass that covers the soil. hehas provided dancers too, not only sword but also bell-dancers, for inhis own town there are those who ring the ²ånges and jingle the bellsto perfection; of shoe-dancers i say nothing, for of them he hasengaged a host. but none of these things, nor of the many others ihave omitted to mention, will do more to make this a memorable weddingthan the part which i suspect the despairing basilio will y init. this basilio is a youth of the same vige as quiteria, and helived in the house next door to that of her parents, of whichcircumstance love took advantage to reproduce to the word thelong-forgotten loves of pyramus and thisbe; for basilio loved quiteriafrom his earliest years, and Éä responded to his passion withcountless modest proofs of affection, so that the loves of the twochildren, basilio and quiteria, were the talk and the amusement of thetown. as they grew up, the father of quiteria made up his mind torefuse basilio his wonted freedom of ess to the house, and torelieve himself of constant doubts and suspicions, he arranged a matchfor his daughter with the rich camacho, as he did not approve ofmarrying her to basilio, who had not sorge a share of the giftsof fortune as of nature; for if the truth be told ungrudgingly, heis the most agile youth we know, a mighty thrower of the bar, afirst-rate wrestler, and a great ball-yer; he runs like a deer, andleaps better than a goat, bowls over the nine-pins as if by magic,sings like ark, ys the guitar so as to make it speak, and, aboveall, handles a sword as well as the best." "for that excellence alone," said don quixote at this, "the youthdeserves to marry, not merely the fair quiteria, but queen guinevereherself, were Éä alive now, in spite ofuncelot and all who wouldtry to prevent it." "say that to my wife," said sancho, who had until now listened insilence, "for Éä wont hear of anything but each one marrying hisequal, holding with the proverb each ewe to her like. what i wouldlike is that this good basilio £¨for i am beginning to take a fancyto him already£© should marry thisdy quiteria; and a blessing andgood luck- i meant to say the opposite- on people who would preventthose who love one another from marrying." "if all those who love one another were to marry," said don quixote,"it would deprive parents of the right to choose, and marry theirchildren to the proper person and at the proper time; and if it wasleft to daughters to choose husbands as they pleased, one would be forchoosing her fathers servant, and another, some one Éä has seenpassing in the street and fancies gant and dashing, though he maybe a drunken bully; for love and fancy easily blind the eyes of thejudgment, so much wanted in choosing ones way of life; and thematrimonial choice is very liable to error, and it needs great cautionand the special favour of heaven to make it a good one. he who hasto make a long journey, will, if he is wise, look out for sometrusty and pleasantpanion to apany him before he sets out.why, then, should not he do the same who has to make the whole journeyof life down to the final halting-ce of death, more especially whenthepanion has to be hispanion in bed, at board, andeverywhere, as the wife is to her husband? thepanionship ofones wife is no article of mer²åndise, that, after it has beenbought, may be returned, or bartered, or ²ånged; for it is aninseparable ident thatsts as long as lifests; it is a noosethat, once you put it round your neck, turns into a gordian knot,which, if the scythe of death does not cut it, there is no untying.i could say a great deal more on this subject, were i not prevented bythe anxiety i feel to know if the senor licentiate has anything moreto tell about the story of basilio." to this the student, bachelor, or, as don quixote called him,licentiate, replied, "i have nothing whatever to say further, but thatfrom the moment basilio learned that the fair quiteria was to bemarried to camacho the rich, he has never been seen to smile, or heardto utter rational word, and he always goes about moody and dejected,talking to himself in a way that shows inly he is out of hissenses. he eats little and sleeps little, and all he eats is fruit,and when he sleeps, if he sleeps at all, it is in the field on thehard earth like a brute beast. sometimes he gazes at the sky, at othertimes he fixes his eyes on the earth in such an abstracted way that hemight be taken for a clothed statue, with its drapery stirred by thewind. in short, he shows such signs of a heart cruÉäd by suffering,that all we who know him believe that when to-morrow the fair quiteriasays yes, it will be his sentence of death." "god will guide it better," said sancho, "for god who gives thewound gives the salve; nobody knows what will happen; there are a goodmany hours between this and to-morrow, and any one of them, or anymoment, the house may fall; i have seen the raining down and thesun shining all at one time; many a one goes to bed in good health whocant stir the next day. and tell me, is there anyone who can boast ofhaving driven a nail into the wheel of fortune? no, faith; and betweena womans yes and no i wouldnt venture to put the point of a pin,for there would not be room for it; if you tell me quiteria lovesbasilio heart and soul, then ill give him a bag of good luck; forlove, i have heard say, looks through spectacles that make copper seemgold, poverty wealth, and blear eyes pearls." "what art thou driving at, sancho? curses on thee!" said donquixote; "for when thou takest to stringing proverbs and sayingstogether, no one can understand thee but judas himself, and i wishhe had thee. tell me, thou animal, what dost thou know about nailsor wheels, or anything else?" "oh, if you dont understand me," replied sancho, "it is no wondermy words are taken for nonsense; but no matter; i understand myself,and i know i have not said anything very foolish in what i havesaid; only your worship, senor, is always gravelling at everything isay, nay, everything i do." "cavilling, not gravelling," said don quixote, "thou prevaricator ofhonestnguage, god confound thee!" "dont find fault with me, your worship," returned sancho, "foryou know i have not been bred up at court or trained at smanca,to know whether i am adding or dropping a letter or so in my words.why! god bless me, its not fair to force a sayago-man to speak like atoledan; maybe there are toledans who do not hit it off when ies to poliÉäd talk." "that is true," said the licentiate, "for those who have been bredup in the tanneries and the zocodover cannot talk like those who arealmost all day pacing the cathedral cloisters, and yet they are alltoledans. pure, correct, elegant and lucidnguage will be met within men of courtly breeding and discrimination, though they may havebeen born in majhonda; i say of discrimination, because there aremany who are not so, and discrimination is the grammar of goonguage, if it be apanied by practice. i, sirs, for my sinshave studied canonw at smanca, and i rather pique myself onexpressing my meaning in clear, in, and intelligiblenguage." "if you did not pique yourself more on your dexterity with thosefoils you carry than on dexterity of tongue," said the otherstudent, "you would have been head of the degrees, where you are nowtail." "look here, bachelor corchuelo," returned the licentiate, "youhave the most mistaken idea in the world about skill with the sword,if you think it useless." "it is no idea on my part, but an establiÉäd truth," repliedcorchuelo; "and if you wish me to prove it to you by experiment, youhave swords there, and it is a good opportunity; i have a steadyhand and a strong arm, and these joined with my resolution, which isnot small, will make you confess that i am not mistaken. dismountand put in practice your positions and circles and angles and science,for i hope to make you see stars at noonday with my rude rawswordsmanship, in which, next to god, i ce my trust that the man isyet to be born who will make me turn my back, and that there is notone in the world i will notpel to give ground."
µÚ129Ò³ "as to whether you turn your back or not, i do not concernmyself," replied the master of fence; "though it might be that yourgrave would be dug on the spot where you nted your foot the firsttime; i mean that you would be stretched dead there for despisingskill with the sword." "we shall soon see," replied corchuelo, and getting off his assbriskly, he drew out furiously one of the swords the licentiatecarried on his beast. "it must not be that way," said don quixote at this point; "i willbe the director of this fencing match, and judge of this oftendisputed question;" and dismounting from rocinante and grasping hince, he nted himself in the middle of the road, just as thelicentiate, with an easy, graceful bearing and step, advancedtowards corchuelo, who came on against him, darting fire from hiseyes, as the saying is. the other two of thepany, the peasants,without dismounting from their asses, served as spectators of themortal tragedy. the cuts, thrusts, down strokes, back strokes anddoubles, that corchuelo delivered were past counting, and came thickerthan hops or hail. he attacked like an angry lion, but he was met by atap on the mouth from the button of the licentiates sword thatchecked him in the midst of his furious onset, and made him kiss it asif it were a relic, though not as devoutly as relics are and oughtto he kissed. the end of it was that the licentiate reckoned up forhim by thrusts every one of the buttons of the short cassock hewore, tore the skirts into strips, like the tails of a cuttlefish,knocked off his hat twice, and sopletely tired him out, that invexation, anger, and rage, he took the sword by the hilt and flungit away with such force, that one of the peasants that were there, whowas a notary, and who went for it, made an affidavit afterwards thathe sent it nearly three-quarters of a league, which testimony willserve, and has served, to show and establish with all certainty thatstrength is ovee by skill. corchuelo sat down wearied, and sancho approaching him said, "bymy faith, senor bachelor, if your worship takes my advice, you willnever ²ållenge anyone to fence again, only to wrestle and throw thebar, for you have the youth and strength for that; but as for thesefencers as they call them, i have heard say they can put the pointof a sword through the eye of a needle." "i am satisfied with having tumbled off my donkey," saidcorchuelo, "and with having had the truth i was so ignorant ofproved to me by experience;" and getting up he embraced thelicentiate, and they were better friends than ever; and not caringto wait for the notary who had gone for the sword, as they saw hewould be a long time about it, they resolved to push on so as to reachthe vige of quiteria, to which they all belonged, in good time. during the remainder of the journey the licentiate held forth tothem on the excellences of the sword, with such conclusivearguments, and such figures and mathematical proofs, that all wereconvinced of the value of the science, and corchuelo cured of hisdogmatism. it grew dark; but before they reached the town it seemed to them as if there was a heaven full of countless glittering stars in frontof it. they heard, too, the pleasant mingled notes of a variety ofinstruments, flutes, drums, psalteries, pipes, tabors, and timbrels,and as they drew near they perceived that the trees of a leafyarcade that had been constructed at the entrance of the town werefilled with lights unaffected by the wind, for the breeze at thetime was so gentle that it had not power to stir the leaves on thetrees. the musicians were the life of the wedding, wandering throughthe pleasant grounds in separate bands, some dancing, otherssinging, others ying the various instruments already mentioned.in short, it seemed as though mirth and gaiety were frisking andgambolling all over the meadow. several other persons were engagedin erecting raised benches from which people might conveniently seethe ys and dances that were to be performed the next day on thespot dedicated to the celebration of the marriage of camacho therich and the obsequies of basilio. don quixote would not enter thevige, although the peasant as well as the bachelor pressed him;he excused himself, however, on the grounds, amply sufficient in hisopinion, that it was the custom of knights-errant to sleep in thefields and woods in preference to towns, even were it under gildedceilings; and so turned aside a little out of the road, very mu²ågainst sanchos will, as the good quarters he had enjoyed in thecastle or house of don diego came back to his mind. ²åpter xx wherein an ount is given of the wedding of camacho the rich,together with the incident of basilio the poor scarce had the fair aurora given bright phoebus time to dry theliquid pearls upon her golden locks with the heat of his fervent rays,when don quixote, shaking off sloth from his limbs, sprang to his feetand called to his squire sancho, who was still snoring; seeing whichdon quixote ere he roused him thus addressed him: "happy thou, aboveall the dwellers on the face of the earth, that, without envying orbeing envied, sleepest with tranquil mind, and that neither en²ånterspersecute nor en²åntments affright. sleep, i say, and will say ahundred times, without any jealous thoughts of thy mistress to makethee keep ceaseless vigils, or any cares as to how thou art to pay thedebts thou owest, or find to-morrows food for thyself and thy needylittle family, to interfere with thy repose. ambition breaks not thyrest, nor doth this worlds empty pomp disturb thee, for the utmostreach of thy anxiety is to provide for thy ass, since upon myshoulders thou hastid the support of thyself, the counterpoiseand burden that nature and custom have imposed upon masters. theservant sleeps and the master lies awake thinking how he is to feedhim, advance him, and reward him. the distress of seeing the skyturn brazen, and withhold its needful moisture from the earth, isnot felt by the servant but by the master, who in time of scarcity andfamine must support him who has served him in times of plenty andabundance." to all this sancho made no reply because he was asleep, nor would hehave wakened up so soon as he did had not don quixote brought him tohis senses with the butt of hisnce. he awoke atst, drowsy anzy, and casting his eyes about in every direction, observed,"therees, if i dont mistake, from the quarter of that arcade asteam and a smell a great deal more like fried raÉärs thangalingale or thyme; a wedding that begins with smells like that, by myfaith, ought to be plentiful and unstinting." "have done, thou glutton," said don quixote; "e, let us go andwitness this bridal, and see what the rejected basilio does." "let him do what he likes," returned sancho; "be he not poor, hewould marry quiteria. to make a grand match for himself, and hewithout a farthing; is there nothing else? faith, senor, its myopinion the poor man should be content with what he can get, and notgo looking for dainties in the bottom of the sea. i will bet my armthat camacho could bury basilio in reals; and if that be so, as nodoubt it is, what a fool quiteria would be to refuse the finedresses and jewels camacho must have given her and will give her,and take basilios bar-throwing and sword-y. they wont give a pintof wine at the tavern for a good cast of the bar or a neat thrust ofthe sword. talents and aplishments that cant be turned intomoney, let count dirlos have them; but when such gifts fall to hat has hard cash, i wish my condition of life was as bing asthey are. on a good foundation you can raise a good building, andthe best foundation in the world is money." "for gods sake, sancho," said don quixote here, "stop thatharangue; it is my belief, if thou wert allowed to continue all thoubeginnest every instant, thou wouldst have no time left for eatingor sleeping; for thou wouldst spend it all in talking." "if your worship had a good memory," replied sancho, "you wouldremember the articles of our agreement before we started from homethisst time; one of them was that i was to be let say all iliked, so long as it was not against my neighbour or your worshipsauthority; and so far, it seems to me, i have not broken the saidarticle." "i remember no such article, sancho," said don quixote; "and even ifit were so, i desire you to hold your tongue ande along; for theinstruments we heardst night are already beginning to enliven thevalleys again, and no doubt the marriage will take ce in the coolof the morning, and not in the heat of the afternoon." sancho did as his master bade him, and putting the saddle onrocinante and the pack-saddle on dapple, they both mounted and at aleisurely pace entered the arcade. the first thing that presenteditself to sanchos eyes was a whole ox spitted on a whole elm tree,and in the fire at which it was to be roasted there was burning amiddling-sized mountain of faggots, and six stewpots that stoodround the ze had not been made in the ordinary mould ofmonpots, for they were six half wine-jars, each fit to hold thecontents of a ughter-house; they swallowed up whole Éäep and hidthem away in their insides without showing any more sign of themthan if they were pigeons. countless were the hares ready skinnedand the plucked fowls that hung on the trees for burial in the pots,numberless the wildfowl and game of various sorts suspended from thebranches that the air might keep them cool. sancho counted more thansixty wine skins of over six gallons each, and all filled, as itproved afterwards, with generous wines. there were, besides, pilesof the whitest bread, like the heaps of corn one sees on thethreshing-floors. there was a wall made of cheeses arranged likeopen brick-work, and two cauldrons full of oil, bigger than those of adyers shop, served for cooking fritters, which when fried weretaken out with two mighty shovels, and plunged into another cauldronof prepared honey that stood close by. of cooks and cook-maids therewere over fifty, all clean, brisk, and blithe. in the capaciousbelly of the ox were a dozen soft little sucking-pigs, which, sewnup there, served to give it tenderness and vour. the spices ofdifferent kinds did not seem to have been bought by the pound but bythe quarter, and ally open to view in a great chest. in short,all the preparations made for the wedding were in rustic style, butabundant enough to feed an army.
µÚ130Ò³ sancho observed all, contemted all, and everything won his heart.the first to captivate and take his fancy were the pots, out ofwhich he would have very dly helped himself to a moderatepipkinful; then the wine skins secured his affections; andstly, theproduce of the frying-pans, if, indeed, such imposing cauldrons may becalled frying-pans; and unable to control himself or bear it anylonger, he approached one of the busy cooks and civilly but hungrilybegged permission to soak a scrap of bread in one of the pots; towhich the cook made answer, "brother, this is not a day on whichhunger is to have any sway, thanks to the rich camacho; get down andlook about for adle and skim off a hen or two, and much good maythey do you." "i dont see one," said sancho. "wait a bit," said the cook; "sinner that i am! how particr andbashful you are!" and so saying, he seized a bucket and plunging itinto one of the half jars took up three hens and a couple of geese,and said to sancho, "fall to, friend, and take the edge off yourappetite with these skimmings until dinner-timees." "i have nothing to put them in," said sancho. "well then," said the cook, "take spoon and all; for camachoswealth and happiness furnish everything." while sancho fared thus, don quixote was watching the entrance, atone end of the arcade, of some twelve peasants, all in holiday andg dress, mounted on twelve beautiful mares with rich handsome fieldtrappings and a number of little bells attached to their petrals, who,marshalled in regr order, ran not one but several courses overthe meadow, with jubnt shouts and cries of "long live camacho andquiteria! he as rich as Éä is fair; and Éä the fairest on earth!" hearing this, don quixote said to himself, "it is easy to seethese folk have never seen my dulcinea del toboso; for if they hadthey would be more moderate in their praises of this quiteria oftheirs." shortly after this, several bands of dancers of various sortsbegan to enter the arcade at different points, and among them one ofsword-dancersposed of some four-and-twentyds of gant andhigh-spirited mien, d in the finest and whitest of linen, andwith handkerchiefs embroidered in various colours with fine silk;and one of those on the mares asked an active youth who led them ifany of the dancers had been wounded. "as yet, thank god, no one hasbeen wounded," said he, "we are all safe and sound;" and he at oncebegan to executeplicated figures with the rest of hisrades,with so many turns and so great dexterity, that although don quixotewas well used to see dances of the same kind, he thought he hadnever seen any so good as this. he also admired another that came iposed of fair young maidens, none of whom seemed to be underfourteen or over eighteen years of age, all d in green stuff,with their locks partly braided, partly flowing loose, but all of suchbright gold as to vie with the sunbeams, and over them they woregands of jessamine, roses, amaranth, and honeysuckle. at their headwere a venerable old man and an ancient dame, more brisk and active,however, than might have been expected from their years. the notesof a zamora bagpipe apanied them, and with modesty in theircountenances and in their eyes, and lightness in their feet, theylooked the best dancers in the world. following these there came an artistic dance of the sort they call"speaking dances." it wasposed of eight nymphs in two files,with the god cupid leading one and interest the other, the formerfurniÉäd with wings, bow, quiver and arrows, thetter in a richdress of gold and silk of divers colours. the nymphs that followedlove bore their names written on white parchment inrge letters ontheir backs. "poetry" was the name of the first, "wit" of thesecond, "birth" of the third, and "valour" of the fourth. those thatfollowed interest were distinguiÉäd in the same way; the badge of thefirst announced "liberality," that of the second "rgess," thethird "treasure," and the fourth "peaceful possession." in front ofthem all came a wooden castle drawn by four wild men, all d inivy and hemp stained green, and looking so natural that they nearlyterrified sancho. on the front of the castle and on each of the foursides of its frame it bore the inscription "castle of caution." fourskillful tabor and flute yers apanied them, and the dancehaving been opened, cupid, after executing two figures, raised hiseyes and bent his bow against a damsel who stood between the turretsof the castle, and thus addressed her: i am the mighty god whose sway is potent overnd and sea. the heavens above us own me; nay, the shades below acknowledge me. i know not fear, i have my will, whateer my whim or fancy be; for me theres no impossible, i order, bind, forbid, set free.having concluded the stanza he dis²årged an arrow at the top of thecastle, and went back to his ce. interest then came forward andwent through two more figures, and as soon as the tabors ceased, hesaid: but mightier than love am i, though love it be that leads me on, than mine no lineage is more high, or older, underneath the sun. to use me rightly few know how, to act without me fewer still, for i am interest, and i vow for evermore to do thy will.interest retired, and poetry came forward, and when Éä had ghrough her figures like the others, fiÐÔ her eyes on the damselof the castle, Éä said: with many a fanciful conceit, fairdy, winsome poesy her soul, an offering at thy feet, presents in sos unto thee. if thou my homage wilt not scorn, thy fortune, watched by envious eyes, on wings of poesy upborne shall be exalted to the skies.poetry withdrew, and on the side of interest liberality advanced,and after having gone through her figures, said: to give, while shunning each extreme, the sparing hand, the over-free, therein consists, so wise men deem, the virtue liberality. but thee, fairdy, to enrich, myself a prodigal ill prove, a vice not wholly shameful, which may find its fair excuse in love. in the same manner all the ²åracters of the two bands advancedand retired, and each executed its figures, and delivered itsverses, some of them graceful, some burlesque, but don quixotesmemory £¨though he had an excellent one£© only carried away those thathave been just quoted. all then mingled together, forming ²åins andbreaking off again with graceful, unconstrained gaiety; and wheneverlove passed in front of the castle he shot his arrows up at it,while interest broke gilded pellets against it. at length, afterthey had danced a good while, interest drew out a great purse, made ofthe skin of arge brindled cat and to all appearance full ofmoney, and flung it at the castle, and with the force of the blowthe boards fell asunder and tumbled down, leaving the damsel exposedand unprotected. interest and the ²åracters of his band advanced, andthrowing a great ²åin of gold over her neck pretended to take her andlead her away captive, on seeing which, love and his supporters madeas though they would release her, the whole action being to theapaniment of the tabors and in the form of a regr dance. thewild men made peace between them, and with great dexterityreadjusted and fixed the boards of the castle, and the damsel oncemore ensconced herself within; and with this the dance wound up, tothe great enjoyment of the beholders. don quixote asked one of the nymphs who it was that hadposed andarranged it. Éä replied that it was a beneficiary of the town who hada nice taste in devising things of the sort. "i willy a wager,"said don quixote, "that the same bachelor or beneficiary is agreater friend of camachos than of basilios, and that he is betterat satire than at vespers; he has introduced the aplishments ofbasilio and the riches of camacho very neatly into the dance."sancho panza, who was listening to all this, eximed, "the king ismy cock; i stick to camacho." "it is easy to see thou art a clown,sancho," said don quixote, "and one of that sort that cry long lifeto the conqueror." "i dont know of what sort i am," returned sancho, "but i knowvery well ill never get such elegant skimmings off basilios potsas these i have got off camachos;" and he showed him the bucketful ofgeese and hens, and seizing one began to eat with great gaiety andappetite, saying, "a fig for the aplishments of basilio! as mu²ås thou hast so much art thou worth, and as much as thou art worthso much hast thou. as a grandmother of mine used to say, there areonly two families in the world, the haves and the havents; and Éästuck to the haves; and to this day, senor don quixote, people wouldsooner feel the pulse of have, than of know; an ass covered withgold looks better than a horse with a pack-saddle. so once more isay i stick to camacho, the bountiful skimmings of whose pots aregeese and hens, hares and rabbits; but of basilios, if any evee to hand, or even to foot, theyll be only rinsings." "hast thou finiÉäd thy harangue, sancho?" said don quixote. "ofcourse i have finiÉäd it," replied sancho, "because i see yourworship takes offence at it; but if it was not for that, there waswork enough cut out for three days."
µÚ131Ò³ "god grant i may see thee dumb before i die, sancho," said donquixote. "at the rate we are going," said sancho, "ill be chewing ybefore your worship dies; and then, maybe, ill be so dumb that illnot say a word until the end of the world, or, at least, till theday of judgment." "even should that happen, o sancho," said don quixote, "thysilence will nevere up to all thou hast talked, art talking, andwilt talk all thy life; moreover, it naturally stands to reason,that my death wille before thine; so i never expect to see theedumb, not even when thou art drinking or sleeping, and that is theutmost i can say." "in good faith, senor," replied sancho, "theres no trusting thatfleshless one, i mean death, who devours themb as soon as theÉäep, and, as i have heard our curate say, treads with equal footupon the lofty towers of kings and the lowly huts of the poor. thady is more mighty than dainty, Éä is no way squeamish, Éädevours all and is ready for all, and fills her alforjas with peopleof all sorts, ages, and ranks. Éä is no reaper that sleeps out thenoontide; at all times Éä is reaping and cutting down, as well thedry grass as the green; Éä never seems to chew, but bolts andswallows all that is put before her, for Éä has a canine appetitethat is never satisfied; and though Éä has no belly, Éä shows Éähas a dropsy and is athirst to drink the lives of all that live, asone would drink a jug of cold water." "say no more, sancho," said don quixote at this; "dont try tobetter it, and risk a fall; for in truth what thou hast said aboutdeath in thy rustic phrase is what a good preacher might have said.i tell thee, sancho, if thou hadst discretion equal to thy mother wit,thou mightst take a pulpit in hand, and go about the world preachingfine sermons." "he preaches well who lives well," said sancho, "andi know no more theology than that." "nor needst thou," said don quixote, "but i cannot conceive ormake out how it is that, the fear of god being the beginning ofwisdom, thou, who art more afraid of a lizard than of him, knowestso much." "pass judgment on your chivalries, senor," returned sancho, "anddont set yourself up to judge of other mens fears or braveries,for i am as good a fearer of god as my neighbours; but leave me todespatch these skimmings, for all the rest is only idle talk that weshall be called to ount for in the other world;" and so saying,he began a fresh attack on the bucket, with such a hearty appetitethat he aroused don quixotes, who no doubt would have helped himhad he not been prevented by what must be told farther on. ²åpter xxi in which camachos wedding is continued, with other delightfulincidents while don quixote and sancho were engaged in the discussion setforth thest ²åpter, they heard loud shouts and a great noise,which were uttered and made by the men on the mares as they went atfull gallop, shouting, to receive the bride and bridegroom, who wereapproaching with musical instruments and pageantry of all sorts aroundthem, and apanied by the priest and the rtives of both, and allthe most distinguiÉäd people of the surrounding viges. when sanchosaw the bride, he eximed, "by my faith, Éä is not dressed like acountry girl, but like some fine courtdy; egad, as well as i canmake out, the patena Éä wears rich coral, and her green cuencastuff is thirty-pile velvet; and then the white linen trimming- bymy oath, but its satin! look at her hands- jet rings on them! may inever have luck if theyre not gold rings, and real gold, and set withpearls as white as a curdled milk, and every one of them worth aneye of ones head! whoreson baggage, what hair Éä has! if its nota wig, i never saw longer or fairer all the days of my life. see howbravely Éä bears herself- and her shape! wouldnt you say Éä waslike a walking palm tree loaded with clusters of dates? for thetrinkets Éä has hanging from her hair and neck look just like them. iswear in my heart Éä is a bravess, and fit to pass over the banksof nders." don quixoteughed at sanchos boorish eulogies and thought that,saving hisdy dulcinea del toboso, he had never seen a morebeautiful woman. the fair quiteria appeared somewhat pale, whichwas, no doubt, because of the bad night brides always pass dressingthemselves out for their wedding on the morrow. they advancedtowards a theatre that stood on one side of the meadow decked withcarpets and boughs, where they were to plight their troth, and fromwhich they were to behold the dances and ys; but at the moment oftheir arrival at the spot they heard a loud outcry behind them, anda voice eximing, "wait a little, ye, as inconsiderate as ye arehasty!" at these words all turned round, and perceived that thespeaker was a man d in what seemed to be a loose ck coatgarniÉäd with crimson patches like mes. he was crowned £¨as waspresently seen£© with a crown of gloomy cypress, and in his hand heheld a long staff. as he approached he was recognised by everyone asthe gay basilio, and all waited anxiously to see what woulde ofhis words, in dread of some catastrophe in consequence of hisappearance at such a moment. he came up atst weary andbreathless, and nting himself in front of the bridal pair, drovehis staff, which had a steel spike at the end, into the ground, and,with a pale face and eyes fixed on quiteria, he thus addressed herin a hoarse, trembling voice: "well dost thou know, ungrateful quiteria, that ording to theholyw we acknowledge, so long as live thou canst take no husband;nor art thou ignorant either that, in my hopes that time and my ownexertions would improve my fortunes, i have never failed to observethe respect due to thy honour; but thou, casting behind thee allthou owest to my true love, wouldst surrender what is mine toanother whose wealth serves to bring him not only good fortune butsupreme happiness; and now toplete it £¨not that i think hedeserves it, but inasmuch as heaven is pleased to bestow it upon him£©£¬i will, with my own hands, do away with the obstacle that mayinterfere with it, and remove myself from between you. long live therich camacho! many a happy year may he live with the ungratefulquiteria! and let the poor basilio die, basilio whose povertyclipped the wings of his happiness, and brought him to the grave!" and so saying, he seized the staff he had driven into the ground,and leaving one half of it fixed there, showed it to be a Éäaththat concealed a tolerably long rapier; and, what may he called itshilt being nted in the ground, he swiftly, coolly, and deliberatelythrew himself upon it, and in an instant the bloody point and half thesteel de appeared at his back, the unhappy man falling to the earthbathed in his blood, and transfixed by his own weapon. his friends at once ran to his aid, filled with grief at hismisery and sad fate, and don quixote, dismounting from rocinante,hastened to support him, and took him in his arms, and found he hadnot yet ceased to breathe. they were about to draw out the rapier, butthe priest who was standing by objected to its being withdrawnbefore he had confessed him, as the instant of its withdrawal would bethat of this death. basilio, however, reviving slightly, said in aweak voice, as though in pain, "if thou wouldst consent, cruelquiteria, to give me thy hand as my bride in thisst fatal moment, imight still hope that my rashness would find pardon, as by its means iattained the bliss of being thine." hearing this the priest bade him think of the welfare of his soulrather than of the cravings of the body, and in all earnestnessimplore gods pardon for his sins and for his rash resolve; to whichbasilio replied that he was determined not to confess unlessquiteria first gave him her hand in marriage, for that happiness woulpose his mind and give him courage to make his confession. don quixote hearing the wounded mans entreaty, eximed aloud thatwhat basilio asked was just and reasonable, and moreover a requestthat might be easilyplied with; and that it would be as much tosenor camachos honour to receive thedy quiteria as the widow ofthe brave basilio as if he received her direct from her father. "in this case," said he, "it will be only to say yes, and noconsequences can follow the utterance of the word, for the nuptialcouch of this marriage must be the grave." camacho was listening to all this, perplexed and bewildered andnot knowing what to say or do; but so urgent were the entreaties ofbasilios friends, imploring him to allow quiteria to give him herhand, so that his soul, quitting this life in despair, should not belost, that they moved, nay, forced him, to say that if quiteria werewilling to give it he was satisfied, as it was only putting off thefulfillment of his wiÉäs for a moment. at once all assailedquiteria and pressed her, some with prayers, and others with tears,and others with persuasive arguments, to give her hand to poorbasilio; but Éä, harder than marble and more unmoved than any statue,seemed unable or unwilling to utter a word, nor would Éä have givenany reply had not the priest bade her decide quickly what Éä meant todo, as basilio now had his soul at his teeth, and there was no timefor hesitation. on this the fair quiteria, to all appearance distressed, grieved,and repentant, advanced without a word to where basilioy, hiseyes already turned in his head, his breathing short and painful,murmuring the name of quiteria between his teeth, and apparently aboutto die like a heathen and not like a christian. quiteria approachedhim, and kneeling, demanded his hand by signs without speaking.basilio opened his eyes and gazing fixedly at her, said, "oquiteria, why hast thou turnedpassionate at a moment when thpassion will serve as a dagger to rob me of life, for i have notnow the strength left either to bear the happiness thou givest me inepting me as thine, or to suppress the pain that is rapidly drawingthe dread shadow of death over my eyes? what i entreat of thee, o thoufatal star to me, is that the hand thou demandest of me and wouldstgive me, be not given out ofisance or to deceive me afresh, butthat thou confess and dere that without any constraint upon thywill thou givest it to me as to thywful husband; for it is not meetthat thou shouldst trifle with me at such a moment as this, or haverecourse to falsehoods with one who has dealt so truly by thee."
µÚ132Ò³ while uttering these words he showed such weakness that thebystanders expected each return of faintness would take his lifewith it. then quiteria, ovee with modesty and shame, holding inher right hand the hand of basilio, said, "no force would bend mywill; as freely, therefore, as it is possible for me to do so, igive thee the hand of awful wife, and take thine if thou givestit to me of thine own free will, untroubled and unaffected by thecmity thy hasty act has brought upon thee." "yes, i give it," said basilio, "not agitated or distracted, butwith unclouded reason that heaven is pleased to grant me, thus do igive myself to be thy husband." "and i give myself to be thy wife," said quiteria, "whether thoulivest many years, or they carry thee from my arms to the grave." "for one so badly wounded," observed sancho at this point, "thisyoung man has a great deal to say; they should make him leave offbilling and cooing, and attend to his soul; for to my thinking hehas it more on his tongue than at his teeth." basilio and quiteria having thus joined hands, the priest, deeplymoved and with tears in his eyes, pronounced the blessing upon them,and implored heaven to grant an easy passage to the soul of thenewly wedded man, who, the instant he received the blessing, startednimbly to his feet and with unparalleled effrontery pulled out therapier that had been Éäathed in his body. all the bystanders wereastounded, and some, more simple than inquiring, began shouting, "amiracle, a miracle!" but basilio replied, "no miracle, no miracle;only a trick, a trick!" the priest, perplexed and amazed, made hasteto examine the wound with both hands, and found that the de hadpassed, not through basilios flesh and ribs, but through a hollowiron tube full of blood, which he had adroitly fixed at the ce, theblood, as was afterwards ascertained, having been so prepared as notto congeal. in short, the priest and camacho and most of those presentsaw they were tricked and made fools of. the bride showed no signsof displeasure at the deception; on the contrary, hearing them saythat the marriage, being fraudulent, would not be valid, Éä said thatÉä confirmed it afresh, whence they all concluded that the affair hadbeen nned by agreement and understanding between the pair,whereat camacho and his supporters were so mortified that theyproceeded to revenge themselves by violence, and a great number ofthem drawing their swords attacked basilio, in whose protection asmany more swords were in an instant unÉäathed, while don quixotetaking the lead on horseback, with hisnce over his arm and wellcovered with his shield, made all give way before him. sancho, whonever found any pleasure or enjoyment in such doings, retreated to thewine-jars from which he had taken his delectable skimmings,considering that, as a holy ce, that spot would be respected. "hold, sirs, hold!" cried don quixote in a loud voice; "we have noright to take vengeance for wrongs that love may do to us: rememberlove and war are the same thing, and as in war it is allowable anmon to make use of wiles and stratagems to ovee the enemy, soin the contests and rivalries of love the tricks and devicesemployed to attain the desired end are justifiable, provided they benot to the discredit or dishonour of the loved object. quiteriabelonged to basilio and basilio to quiteria by the just and beneficentdisposal of heaven. camacho is rich, and can pur²åse his pleasurewhen, where, and as it pleases him. basilio has but this ewemb, andno one, however powerful he may be, shall take her from him; these twowhom god hath joined man cannot separate; and he who attempts itmust first pass the point of thisnce;" and so saying hebrandiÉäd it so stoutly and dexterously that he overawed all whodid not know him. but so deep an impression had the rejection of quiteria made oncamachos mind that it baniÉäd her at once from his thoughts; andso the counsels of the priest, who was a wise and kindly disposed man,prevailed with him, and by their means he and his partisans werepacified and tranquillised, and to prove it put up their swords again,inveighing against the pliancy of quiteria rather than thecraftiness of basilio; camacho maintaining that, if quiteria as amaiden had such a love for basilio, Éä would have loved him too asa married woman, and that he ought to thank heaven more for havingtaken her than for having given her. camacho and those of his following, therefore, being consoled andpacified, those on basilios side were appeased; and the rich camacho,to show that he felt no resentment for the trick, and did not careabout it, desired the festival to go on just as if he were marriedin reality. neither basilio, however, nor his bride, nor theirfollowers would take any part in it, and they withdrew to basiliosvige; for the poor, if they are persons of virtue and good sense,have those who follow, honour, and uphold them, just as the richhave those who tter and dance attendance on them. with them theycarried don quixote, regarding him as a man of worth and a stoutone. sancho alone had a cloud on his soul, for he found himselfdebarred from waiting for camachos splendid feast and festival, whicsted until night; and thus dragged away, he moodily followed hismaster, who apanied basilios party, and left behind him theflesh-pots of egypt; though in his heart he took them with him, andtheir now nearly finiÉäd skimmings that he carried in the bucketconjured up visions before his eyes of the glory and abundance ofthe good cheer he was losing. and so, vexed and dejected though nothungry, without dismounting from dapple he followed in the footstepsof rocinante. ²åpter xxii wherin is rted the grand adventure of the cave of montesinos inthe heart of man²å, which the valiant don quixote brought to ahappy termination many and great were the attentions shown to don quixote by the newlymarried couple, who felt themselves under an obligation to him foing forward in defence of their cause; and they exalted hiswisdom to the same level with his courage, rating him as a cid inarms, and a cicero in eloquence. worthy sancho enjoyed himself forthree days at the expense of the pair, from whom they learned that thesham wound was not a scheme arranged with the fair quiteria, but adevice of basilios, who counted on exactly the result they hadseen; he confessed, it is true, that he had confided his idea tosome of his friends, so that at the proper time they might aid himin his purpose and insure the sess of the deception. "that," said don quixote, "is not and ought not to be calleddeception which aims at virtuous ends;" and the marriage of loverÉä maintained to be a most excellent end, reminding them, however,that love has no greater enemy than hunger and constant want; for loveis all gaiety, enjoyment, and happiness, especially when the loveris in the possession of the object of his love, and poverty and wantare the dered enemies of all these; which he said to urge senorbasilio to abandon the practice of those aplishments he wasskilled in, for though they brought him fame, they brought him nomoney, and apply himself to the acquisition of wealth by legitimateindustry, which will never fail those who are prudent and persevering.the poor man who is a man of honour £¨if indeed a poor man can be a manof honour£© has a jewel when he has a fair wife, and if Éä is takenfrom him, his honour is taken from him and in. the fair woman whois a woman of honour, and whose husband is poor, deserves to becrowned with theurels and crowns of victory and triumph. beautyby itself attracts the desires of all who behold it, and the royaleagles and birds of towering flight stoop on it as on a dainty lure;but if beauty be apanied by want and penury, then the ravens andthe kites and other birds of prey assail it, and Éä who stands firmagainst such attacks well deserves to be called the crown of herhusband. "remember, o prudent basilio," added don quixote, "it was theopinion of a certain sage, i know not whom, that there was not morethan one good woman in the whole world; and his advice was that eachone should think and believe that this one good woman was his ownwife, and in this way he would live happy. i myself am not married,nor, so far, has it ever entered my thoughts to be so; neverthelessi would venture to give advice to anyone who might ask it, as to themode in which he should seek a wife such as he would be content tomarry. the first thing i would rmend him, would be to look to goodname rather than to wealth, for a good woman does not win a goodname merely by being good, but by letting it he seen that Éä is so,and open looseness and freedom do much more damage to a womans honourthan secret depravity. if you take a good woman into your house itwill he an easy matter to keep her good, and even to make her stillbetter; but if you take a bad one you will find it hard work to mendher, for it is no very easy matter to pass from one extreme toanother. i do not say it is impossible, but i look upon it asdifficult." sancho, listening to all this, said to himself, "this master ofmine, when i say anything that has weight and substance, says imight take a pulpit in hand, and go about the world preaching finesermons; but i say of him that, when he begins stringing maximstogether and giving advice not only might he take a pulpit in hand,but two on each finger, and go into the market-ces to his heartscontent. devil take you for a knight-errant, what a lot of thingsyou know! i used to think in my heart that the only thing he knewwas what belonged to his chivalry; but there is nothing he wonthave a finger in."
µÚ133Ò³ sancho muttered this somewhat aloud, and his master overheard him,and asked, "what art thou muttering there, sancho?" "im not saying anything or muttering anything," said sancho; "i wasonly saying to myself that i wish i had heard what your worship hassaid just now before i married; perhaps id say now, the ox thatsloose licks himself well." "is thy teresa so bad then, sancho?" "Éä is not very bad," replied sancho; "but Éä is not very good; atleast Éä is not as good as i could wish." "thou dost wrong, sancho," said don quixote, "to speak ill of thywife; for after all Éä is the mother of thy children." "we arequits," returned sancho; "for Éä speaks ill of me whenever Éätakes it into her head, especially when Éä is jealous; and satanhimself could not put up with her then." in fine, they remained three days with the newly married couple,by whom they were entertained and treated like kings. don quixotebegged the fencing licentiate to find him a guide to show him theway to the cave of montesinos, as he had a great desire to enter itand see with his own eyes if the wonderful tales that were told ofit all over the country were true. the licentiate said he would gethim a cousin of his own, a famous schr, and one very much givento reading books of chivalry, who would have great pleasure inconducting him to the mouth of the very cave, and would show him thkes of ruidera, which were likewise famous all over man²å, andeven all over spain; and he assured him he would find himentertaining, for he was a youth who could write books good enoughto be printed and dedicated to princes. the cousin arrived atst,leading an ass in foal, with a pack-saddle covered with aparti-coloured carpet or sackcloth; sancho saddled rocinante, gotdapple ready, and stocked his alforjas, along with which went those ofthe cousin, likewise well filled; and so,mending themselves to godand bidding farewell to all, they set out, taking the road for thefamous cave of montesinos. on the way don quixote asked the cousin of what sort and ²åracterhis pursuits, avocations, and studies were, to which he replied thathe was by profession a humanist, and that his pursuits and studieswere making books for the press, all of great utility and no lessentertainment to the nation. one was called "the book of liveries," inwhich he described seven hundred and three liveries, with theircolours, mottoes, and ciphers, from which gentlemen of the court mightpick and choose any they fancied for festivals and revels, withouthaving to go a-begging for them from anyone, or puzzling their brains,as the saying is, to have them appropriate to their objects andpurposes; "for," said he, "i give the jealous, the rejected, theforgotten, the absent, what will suit them, and fit them without fail.i have another book, too, which i shall call metamorphoses, or thespanish ovid, one of rare and original invention, for imitatingovid in burlesque style, i show in it who the giralda of seville andthe angel of the magdalena were, what the sewer of vecinguerra atcordova was, what the bulls of guisando, the sierra morena, theleganitos andvapies fountains at madrid, not forgetting those ofthe piojo, of the cano dorado, and of the priora; and all with theirallegories, metaphors, and ²ånges, so that they are amusing,interesting, and instructive, all at once. another book i have which icall the supplement to polydore vergil, which treats of theinvention of things, and is a work of great erudition and research,for i establish and elucidate elegantly some things of greatimportance which polydore omitted to mention. he forgot to tell us whowas the first man in the world that had a cold in his head, and whowas the first to try salivation for the french disease, but i giveit urately set forth, and quote more than five-and-twenty authorsin proof of it, so you may perceive i haveboured to good purposeand that the book will be of service to the whole world." sancho, who had been very attentive to the cousins words, said tohim, "tell me, senor- and god give you luck in printing your books-can you tell me £¨for of course you know, as you know everything£© whowas the first man that scratched his head? for to my thinking itmust have been our father adam." "so it must," replied the cousin; "for there is no doubt but adamhad a head and hair; and being the first man in the world he wouldhave scratched himself sometimes." "so i think," said sancho; "but now tell me, who was the firsttumbler in the world?" "really, brother," answered the cousin, "i could not at thismoment say positively without having investigated it; i will look itup when i go back to where i have my books, and will satisfy you thenext time we meet, for this will not be thest time." "look here, senor," said sancho, "dont give yourself any troubleabout it, for i have just this minute hit upon what i asked you. thefirst tumbler in the world, you must know, was lucifer, when they castor pitched him out of heaven; for he came tumbling into the bottomlesspit." "you are right, friend," said the cousin; and said don quixote,"sancho, that question and answer are not thine own; thou hast heardthem from some one else." "hold your peace, senor," said sancho; "faith, if i take to askingquestions and answering, ill go on from this till to-morrowmorning. nay! to ask foolish things and answer nonsense i neednt golooking for help from my neighbours." "thou hast said more than thou art aware of, sancho," said donquixote; "for there are some who weary themselves out in learningand proving things that, after they are known and proved, are notworth a farthing to the understanding or memory." in this and other pleasant conversation the day went by, and thatnight they put up at a small hamlet whence it was not more than twoleagues to the cave of montesinos, so the cousin told don quixote,adding, that if he was bent upon entering it, it would be requisitefor him to provide himself with ropes, so that he might be tied andlowered into its depths. don quixote said that even if it reached tothe bottomless pit he meant to see where it went to; so they boughtabout a hundred fathoms of rope, and next day at two in theafternoon they arrived at the cave, the mouth of which is spacious andwide, but full of thorn and wild-fig buÉäs and brambles and briars,so thick and matted that theypletely close it up and cover itover. oning within sight of it the cousin, sancho, and don quixotedismounted, and the first two immediately tied thetter veryfirmly with the ropes, and as they were girding and swathing himsancho said to him, "mind what you are about, master mine; dont goburying yourself alive, or putting yourself where youll be like abottle put to cool in a well; its no affair or business of yourworships to be the explorer of this, which must be worse than amoorish dungeon." "tie me and hold thy peace," said don quixote, "for an empriselike this, friend sancho, was reserved for me;" and said the guide, "ibeg of you, senor don quixote, to observe carefully and examine with ahundred eyes everything that is within there; perhaps there may besome things for me to put into my book of transformations." "the drum is in hands that will know how to beat it well enough,"said sancho panza. when he had said this and finiÉäd the tying £¨which was not over thearmour but only over the doublet£© don quixote observed, "it wascareless of us not to have provided ourselves with a small cattle-bellto be tied on the rope close to me, the sound of which would show thati was still descending and alive; but as that is out of the questionnow, in gods hand be it to guide me;" and forthwith he fell on hisknees and in a low voice offered up a prayer to heaven, imploringgod to aid him and grant him sess in this to all appearanceperilous and untried adventure, and then eximed aloud, "omistress of my actions and movements, illustrious and peerlessdulcinea del toboso, if so be the prayers and supplications of thisfortunate lover can reach thy ears, by thy iparable beauty ientreat thee to listen to them, for they but ask thee not to refuse methy favour and protection now that i stand in such need of them. iam about to precipitate, to sink, to plunge myself into the abyss thatis here before me, only to let the world know that while thou dostfavour me there is no impossibility i will not attempt andaplish." with these words he approached the cavern, andperceived that it was impossible to let himself down or effect anentrance except by Éäer force or cleaving a passage; so drawing hissword he began to demolish and cut away the brambles at the mouth ofthe cave, at the noise of which a vast multitude of crows andchoughs flew out of it so thick and so fast that they knocked donquixote down; and if he had been as much of a believer in augury as hewas a catholic christian he would have taken it as a bad omen anddeclined to bury himself in such a ce. he got up, however, and asthere came no more crows, or night-birds like the bats that flew outat the same time with the crows, the cousin and sancho giving himrope, he lowered himself into the depths of the dread cavern; and aÉä entered it sancho sent his blessing after him, making a thousandcrosses over him and saying, "god, and the pena de francia, and thetrinity of gaeta guide thee, flower and cream of knights-errant. therethou goest, thou dare-devil of the earth, heart of steel, arm ofbrass; once more, god guide thee and send thee back safe, sound, andunhurt to the light of this world thou art leaving to bury thyselfin the darkness thou art seeking there;" and the cousin offered upalmost the same prayers and supplications.
µÚ134Ò³ don quixote kept calling to them to give him rope and more rope, andthey gave it out little by little, and by the time the calls, whichcame out of the cave as out of a pipe, ceased to be heard they had letdown the hundred fathoms of rope. they were inclined to pull donquixote up again, as they could give him no more rope; however, theywaited about half an hour, at the end of which time they began togather in the rope again with great ease and without feeling anyweight, which made them fancy don quixote was remaining below; andpersuaded that it was so, sancho wept bitterly, and hauled away ingreat haste in order to settle the question. when, however, they hae to, as it seemed, rather more than eighty fathoms they felt aweight, at which they were greatly delighted; and atst, at tenfathoms more, they saw don quixote distinctly, and sancho called outto him, saying, "wee back, senor, for we had begun to think youwere going to stop there to found a family." but don quixoteanswered not a word, and drawing him out entirely they perceived hehad his eyes shut and every appearance of being fast asleep. they stretched him on the ground and untied him, but still he didnot awake; however, they rolled him back and forwards and shook andpulled him about, so that after some time he came to himself,stretching himself just as if he were waking up from a deep andsound sleep, and looking about him he said, "god forgive you, friends;ye have taken me away from the sweetest and most delightfulexistence and spectacle that ever human being enjoyed or beheld. nowindeed do i know that all the pleasures of this life pass away likea shadow and a dream, or fade like the flower of the field. oill-fated montesinos! o sore-wounded durandarte! o unhappy belerma!o tearful guadiana, and ye o hapless daughters of ruidera who showin your waves the tears that flowed from your beauteous eyes!" the cousin and sancho panza listened with deep attention to thewords of don quixote, who uttered them as though with immense painhe drew them up from his very bowels. they begged of him to exinhimself, and tell them what he had seen in that hell down there. "hell do you call it?" said don quixote; "call it by no such name,for it does not deserve it, as ye shall soon see." he then begged them to give him something to eat, as he was veryhungry. they spread the cousins sackcloth on the grass, and put thestores of the alforjas into requisition, and all three sitting downlovingly and sociably, they made a luncheon and a supper of it allin one; and when the sackcloth was removed, don quixote of man²åsaid, "let no one rise, and attend to me, my sons, both of you." ²åpter xxiii of the wonderful things the iparable don quixote said he sawin the profound cave of montesinos, the impossibility and magnitude ofwhich cause this adventure to be deemed apocryphal it was about four in the afternoon when the sun, veiled in clouds,with subdued light and tempered beams, enabled don quixote torte, without heat or inconvenience, what he had seen in the cave ofmontesinos to his two illustrious hearers, and he began as follows: "a matter of some twelve or fourteen times a mans height down inthis pit, on the right-hand side, there is a recess or space, roomyenough to contain arge cart with its mules. a little lightreaches it through some chinks or crevices,municating with itand open to the surface of the earth. this recess or space i perceivedwhen i was already growing weary and disgusted at finding myselfhanging suspended by the rope, travelling downwards into that darkregion without any certainty or knowledge of where i was going, so iresolved to enter it and rest myself for a while. i called out,telling you not to let out more rope until i bade you, but youcannot have heard me. i then gathered in the rope you were sending me,and making a coil or pile of it i seated myself upon it, ruminatingand considering what i was to do to lower myself to the bottom, havingno one to hold me up; and as i was thus deep in thought andperplexity, suddenly and without provocation a profound sleep fellupon me, and when i least expected it, i know not how, i awoke andfound myself in the midst of the most beautiful, delightful meadowthat nature could produce or the most lively human imaginationconceive. i opened my eyes, i rubbed them, and found i was notasleep but thoroughly awake. nevertheless, i felt my head and breastto satisfy myself whether it was i myself who was there or someempty delusive phantom; but touch, feeling, the collected thoughtsthat passed through my mind, all convinced me that i was the same thenand there that i am this moment. next there presented itself to mysight a stately royal pce or castle, with walls that seemed builtof clear transparent crystal; and through two great doors thatopened wide therein, i sawing forth and advancing towards me avenerable old man, d in a long gown of mulberry-coloured serge thattrailed upon the ground. on his shoulders and breast he had a greensatin collegiate hood, and covering his head a ck mnesebo, and his snow-white beard fell below his girdle. he carriedno arms whatever, nothing but a rosary of beads bigger than fair-sizedfilberts, each tenth bead being like a moderate ostrich egg; hisbearing, his gait, his dignity and imposing presence held mespellbound and wondering. he approached me, and the first thing he didwas to embrace me closely, and then he said to me, for a long timenow, o valiant knight don quixote of man²å, we who are hereen²ånted in these solitudes have been hoping to see thee, that thoumayest make known to the world what is shut up and concealed in thisdeep cave, called the cave of montesinos, which thou hast entered,an achievement reserved for thy invincible heart and stupendouscourage alone to attempt.e with me, illustrious sir, and i willshow thee the marvels hidden within this transparent castle, whereof iam the alcaide and perpetual warden; for i am montesinos himself, fromwhom the cave takes its name. "the instant he told me he was montesinos, i asked him if thestory they told in the world above here was true, that he had takenout the heart of his great friend durandarte from his breast with alittle dagger, and carried it to thedy belerma, as his friendwhen at the point of death hadmanded him. he said in reply thatthey spoke the truth in every respect except as to the dagger, forit was not a dagger, nor little, but a burniÉäd poniard sharperthan an awl." "that poniard must have been made by ramon de hoces thesevillian," said sancho. "i do not know," said don quixote; "it could not have been by thatponiard maker, however, because ramon de hoces was a man of yesterday,and the affair of roncesvalles, where this mishap urred, was longago; but the question is of no great importance, nor does it affect ormake any alteration in the truth or substance of the story." "that is true," said the cousin; "continue, senor don quixote, for iam listening to you with the greatest pleasure in the world." "and with no less do i tell the tale," said don quixote; "and so, toproceed- the venerable montesinos led me into the pce of crystal,where, in a lower ²åmber, strangely cool and entirely of baster,was an borately wrought marble tomb, upon which i beheld, stretchedat full length, a knight, not of bronze, or marble, or jasper, asare seen on other tombs, but of actual flesh and bone. his righthand £¨which seemed to me somewhat hairy and sinewy, a sign of greatstrength in its owner£©y on the side of his heart; but before icould put any question to montesinos, he, seeing me gazing at the tombin amazement, said to me, this is my friend durandarte, flower andmirror of the true lovers and valiant knights of his time. he iÉäld en²ånted here, as i myself and many others are, by that frenchen²ånter merlin, who, they say, was the devils son; but my beliefis, not that he was the devils son, but that he knew, as the sayingis, a point more than the devil. how or why he en²ånted us, no oneknows, but time will tell, and i suspect that time is not far off.what i marvel at is, that i know it to be as sure as that it is nowday, that durandarte ended his life in my arms, and that, after hisdeath, i took out his heart with my own hands; and indeed it must haveweighed more than two pounds, for, ording to naturalists, he whohas arge heart is morergely endowed with valour than he whohas a small one. then, as this is the case, and as the knight didreally die, howes it that he now moans and sighs from time totime, as if he were still alive? "as he said this, the wretched durandarte cried out in a loud voice: o cousin montesinos! t was myst request of thee, when my soul hath left the body, and that lying dead i be, with thy poniard or thy dagger cut the heart from out my breast, and bear it to belerma. this was myst request.on hearing which, the venerable montesinos fell on his knees beforethe unhappy knight, and with tearful eyes eximed, long since,senor durandarte, my beloved cousin, long since have i done what youbade me on that sad day when i lost you; i took out your heart as wes i could, not leaving an atom of it in your breast, i wiped itwith ace handkerchief, and i took the road to france with it,having firstid you in the bosom of the earth with tears enough towash and cleanse my hands of the blood that covered them afterwandering among your bowels; and more by token, o cousin of my soul,at the first vige i came to after leaving roncesvalles, i sprinkleda little salt upon your heart to keep it sweet, and bring it, if notfresh, at least pickled, into the presence of thedy belerma,whom, together with you, myself, guadiana your squire, the duennaruidera and her seven daughters and two nieces, and many more ofyour friends and acquaintances, the sage merlin has been keepingen²ånted here these many years; and although more than five hundredhave gone by, not one of us has died; ruidera and her daughters andnieces alone are missing, and these, because of the tears they Éäd,merlin, out of thepassion he seems to have felt for them,²ånged into so manykes, which to this day in the world of theliving, and in the province of man²å, are called thekes ofruidera. the seven daughters belong to the kings of spain and thetwo nieces to the knights of a very holy order called the order of st.john. guadiana your squire, likewise bewailing your fate, was²ånged into a river of his own name, but when he came to thesurface and beheld the sun of another heaven, so great was his griefat finding he was leaving you, that he plunged into the bowels ofthe earth; however, as he cannot help following his natural course, hefrom time to timees forth and shows himself to the sun and theworld. thekes aforesaid send him their waters, and with these,and others thate to him, he makes a grand and imposing entranceinto portugal; but for all that, go where he may, he shows hismncholy and sadness, and takes no pride in breeding dainty choicefish, only coarse and tasteless sorts, very different from those ofthe golden tagus. all this that i tell you now, o cousin mine, ihave told you many times before, and as you make no answer, i fearthat either you believe me not, or do not hear me, whereat i feelgod knows what grief. i have now news to give you, which, if it servesnot to alleviate your sufferings, will not in any wise increasethem. know that you have here before you £¨open your eyes and youwill see£© that great knight of whom the sage merlin has prophesiedsuch great things; that don quixote of man²å i mean, who hasagain, and to better purpose than in past times, revived in these daysknight-errantry, long since forgotten, and by whose intervention andaid it may be we shall be disen²ånted; for great deeds are reservedfor great men.
µÚ135Ò³ "and if that may not be, said the wretched durandarte in a low andfeeble voice, if that may not be, then, my cousin, i say "patienceand shuffle;" and turning over on his side, he rpsed into hisformer silence without uttering another word. "and now there was heard a great outcry andmentation, apaniedby deep sighs and bitter sobs. i looked round, and through the crystalwall i saw passing through another ²åmber a procession of two linesof fair damsels all d in mourning, and with white turbans ofturkish fashion on their heads. behind, in the rear of these, therecame ady, for so from her dignity Éä seemed to be, also d inck, with a white veil so long and ample that it swept the ground.her turban was twice asrge as thergest of any of the others; hereyebrows met, her nose was rather t, her mouth wasrge but withruddy lips, and her teeth, of which at times Éä allowed a glimpse,were seen to be sparse and ill-set, though as white as peeled almonds.Éä carried in her hands a fine cloth, and in it, as well as i couldmake out, a heart that had been mummied, so parched and dried wasit. montesinos told me that all those forming the procession werethe attendants of durandarte and belerma, who were en²ånted therewith their master and mistress, and that thest, Éä who carried theheart in the cloth, was thedy belerma, who, with her damsels,four days in the week went in procession singing, or rather weeping,dirges over the body and miserable heart of his cousin; and that ifÉä appeared to me somewhat ill-favoured or not so beautiful as famereported her, it was because of the bad nights and worse days that Éäpassed in that en²åntment, as i could see by the great dark circlesround her eyes, and her sicklyplexion; her sallowness, and therings round her eyes, said he, are not caused by the periodicilment usual with women, for it is many months and even years sinceÉä has had any, but by the grief her own heart suffers because ofthat which Éä holds in her hand perpetually, and which recalls andbrings back to her memory the sad fate of her lost lover; were itnot for this, hardly would the great dulcinea del toboso, socelebrated in all these parts, and even in the world,e up to herfor beauty, grace, and gaiety. "hold hard! said i at this, tell your story as you ought, senordon montesinos, for you know very well that allparisons areodious, and there is no asion topare one person with another;the peerless dulcinea del toboso is what Éä is, and thedy donabelerma is what Éä is and has been, and thats enough. to which hemade answer, forgive me, senor don quixote; i own i was wrong andspoke unadvisedly in saying that thedy dulcinea could scarcelyeup to thedy belerma; for it were enough for me to have learned,by what means i know not, that youare her knight, to make me bite mytongue out before ipared her to anything save heaven itself.after this apology which the great montesinos made me, my heartrecovered itself from the shock i had received in hearing mydpared with belerma." "still i wonder," said sancho, "that your worship did not get uponthe old fellow and bruise every bone of him with kicks, and pluckhis beard until you didnt leave a hair in it." "nay, sancho, my friend," said don quixote, "it would not havebeen right in me to do that, for we are all bound to pay respect tothe aged, even though they be not knights, but especially to those whoare, and who are en²ånted; i only know i gave him as good as hebrought in the many other questions and answers we ex²ånged." "i cannot understand, senor don quixote," remarked the cousinhere, "how it is that your worship, in such a short space of time asyou have been below there, could have seen so many things, and saidand answered so much." "how long is it since i went down?" asked don quixote. "little better than an hour," replied sancho. "that cannot be," returned don quixote, "because night overtook mewhile i was there, and day came, and it was night again and dayagain three times; so that, by my reckoning, i have been three days inthose remote regions beyond our ken." "my master must be right," replied sancho; "for as everything thathas happened to him is by en²åntment, maybe what seems to us anhour would seem three days and nights there." "thats it," said don quixote. "and did your worship eat anything all that time, senor?" askedthe cousin. "i never touched a morsel," answered don quixote, "nor did i feelhunger, or think of it." "and do the en²ånted eat?" said the cousin. "they neither eat," said don quixote; "nor are they subject to thegreater excrements, though it is thought that their nails, beards, andhair grow." "and do the en²ånted sleep, now, senor?" asked sancho. "certainly not," replied don quixote; "at least, during thosethree days i was with them not one of them closed an eye, nor did ieither." "the proverb, tell me whatpany thou keepest and ill tellthee what thou art, is to the point here," said sancho; "your worshipkeepspany with en²ånted people that are always fasting andwatching; what wonder is it, then, that you neither eat nor sleepwhile you are with them? but forgive me, senor, if i say that of allthis you have told us now, may god take me- i was just going to saythe devil- if i believe a single particle." "what!" said the cousin, "has senor don quixote, then, been lying?why, even if he wiÉäd it he has not had time to imagine and puttogether such a host of lies." "i dont believe my master lies," said sancho. "if not, what dost thou believe?" asked don quixote. "i believe," replied sancho, "that this merlin, or thoseen²ånters who en²ånted the whole crew your worship says you sawand discoursed with down there, stuffed your imagination or yourmind with all this rigmarole you have been treating us to, and allthat is still toe." "all that might be, sancho," replied don quixote; "but it is not so,for everything that i have told you i saw with my own eyes, andtouched with my own hands. but what will you say when i tell you nowhow, among the countless other marvellous things montesinos showedme £¨of which at leisure and at the proper time i will give thee anount in the course of our journey, for they would not be all ince here£©£¬ he showed me three country girls who went skipping andcapering like goats over the pleasant fields there, and the instanti beheld them i knew one to be the peerless dulcinea del toboso, andthe other two those same country girls that were with her and thatwe spoke to on the road from el toboso! i asked montesinos if heknew them, and he told me he did not, but he thought they must be someen²ånteddies of distinction, for it was only a few days beforethat they had made their appearance in those meadows; but i was not tobe surprised at that, because there were a great many otherdiesthere of times past and present, en²ånted in various strangeshapes, and among them he had recognised queen guinevere and herdame quintanona, Éä who poured out the wine forncelot when he camefrom britain." when sancho panza heard his master say this he was ready to takeleave of his senses, or die withughter; for, as he knew the realtruth about the pretended en²åntment of dulcinea, in which he himselfhad been the en²ånter and concocter of all the evidence, he made uphis mind atst that, beyond all doubt, his master was out of hiswits and stark mad, so he said to him, "it was an evil hour, a worseseason, and a sorrowful day, when your worship, dear master mine, wentdown to the other world, and an unlucky moment when you met with senormontesinos, who has sent you back to us like this. you were wellenough here above in your full senses, such as god had given you,delivering maxims and giving advice at every turn, and not as youare now, talking the greatest nonsense that can be imagined." "as i know thee, sancho," said don quixote, "i heed not thy words." "nor i your worships," said sancho, "whether you beat me or kill mefor those i have spoken, and will speak if you dont correct andmend your own. but tell me, while we are still at peace, how or bywhat did you recognise thedy our mistress; and if you spoke to her,what did you say, and what did Éä answer?" "i recognised her," said don quixote, "by her wearing the samegarments Éä wore when thou didst point her out to me. i spoke to her,but Éä did not utter a word in reply; on the contrary, Éä turned herback on me and took to flight, at such a pace that crossbow bolt couldnot have overtaken her. i wiÉäd to follow her, and would have done sohad not montesinos rmended me not to take the trouble as itwould be useless, particrly as the time was drawing near when itwould be necessary for me to quit the cavern. he told me, moreover,that in course of time he would let me know how he and belerma, anddurandarte, and all who were there, were to be disen²ånted. but ofall i saw and observed down there, what gave me most pain was, thatwhile montesinos was speaking to me, one of the twopanions ofthe hapless dulcinea approached me on one without my having seen heing, and with tears in her eyes said to me, in a low, agitatedvoice, mydy dulcinea del toboso kisses your worships hands, andentreats you to do her the favour of letting her know how you are;and, being in great need, Éä also entreats your worship asearnestly as Éä can to be so good as to lend her half a dozenreals, or as much as you may have about you, on this new dimitypetticoat that i have here; and Éä promises to repay them veryspeedily. i was amazed and taken aback by such a message, and turningto senor montesinos i asked him, is it possible, senor montesinos,that persons of distinction under en²åntment can be in need? towhich he replied, believe me, senor don quixote, that which is calledneed is to be met with everywhere, and prates all quarters andreaches everyone, and does not spare even the en²ånted; and as thdy dulcinea del toboso sends to beg those six reals, and thepledge is to all appearance a good one, there is nothing for it but togive them to her, for no doubt Éä must be in some great strait. iwill take no pledge of her, i replied, nor yet can i give her whatÉä asks, for all i have is four reals; which i gave £¨they werethose which thou, sancho, gavest me the other day to bestow in almsupon the poor i met along the road£©£¬ and i said, tell yourmistress, my dear, that i am grieved to the heart because of herdistresses, and wish i was a fucar to remedy them, and that i wouldhave her know that i cannot be, and ought not be, in health whiledeprived of the happiness of seeing her and enjoying her discreetconversation, and that i implore her as earnestly as i can, to allowherself to be seen and addressed by this her captive servant andforlorn knight. tell her, too, that when Éä least expects it Éä willhear it announced that i have made an oath and vow after the fashionof that which the marquis of mantua made to avenge his nephew baldwin,when he found him at the point of death in the heart of the mountains,which was, not to eat bread off a tablecloth, and other triflingmatters which he added, until he had avenged him; and i will makethe same to take no rest, and to roam the seven regions of the earthmore thoroughly than the infante don pedro of portugal ever roamedthem, until i have disen²ånted her. all that and more, you owe mdy, the damsels answer to me, and taking the four reals, insteadof making me a curtsey Éä cut a caper, springing two full yardsinto the air."
µÚ136Ò³ "o blessed god!" eximed sancho aloud at this, "is it possiblethat such things can be in the world, and that en²ånters anden²åntments can have such power in it as to have ²ånged mymasters right senses into a craze so full of absurdity! o senor,senor, for gods sake, consider yourself, have a care for your honour,and give no credit to this silly stuff that has left you scant andshort of wits." "thou talkest in this way because thou lovest me, sancho," saiddon quixote; "and not being experienced in the things of the world,everything that has some difficulty about it seems to thee impossible;but time will pass, as i said before, and i will tell thee some of thethings i saw down there which will make thee believe what i haverted now, the truth of which admits of neither reply nor question."²åpter xxiv wherein are rted a thousand trifling matters, as trivial asthey are necessary to the right understanding of this great history he who tranted this great history from the original written byits first author, cide hamete benengeli, says that oning to the²åpter giving the adventures of the cave of montesinos he foundwritten on the margin of it, in hametes own hand, these exact words: "i cannot convince or persuade myself that everything that iswritten in the preceding ²åpter could have precisely happened tothe valiant don quixote; and for this reason, that all theadventures that have urred up to the present have been possible andprobable; but as for this one of the cave, i see no way of eptingit as true, as it passes all reasonable bounds. for me to believe thatdon quixote could lie, he being the most truthful gentleman and thenoblest knight of his time, is impossible; he would not have told alie though he were shot to death with arrows. on the other hand, ireflect that he rted and told the story with all thecircumstances detailed, and that he could not in so short a space havefabricated such a vastplication of absurdities; if, then, thisadventure seems apocryphal, it is no fault of mine; and so, withoutaffirming its falsehood or its truth, i write it down. decide forthyself in thy wisdom, reader; for i am not bound, nor is it in mypower, to do more; though certain it is they say that at the time ofhis death he retracted, and said he had invented it, thinking itmatched and tallied with the adventures he had read of in hishistories." and then he goes on to say: the cousin was amazed as well at sanchos boldness as at thepatience of his master, and concluded that the good temper thtter disyed arose from the happiness he felt at having seen hidy dulcinea, even en²ånted as Éä was; because otherwise thewords andnguage sancho had addressed to him deserved a thrashing;for indeed he seemed to him to have been rather impudent to hismaster, to whom he now observed, "i, senor don quixote of man²å,look upon the time i have spent in travelling with your worship asvery well employed, for i have gained four things in the course of it;the first is that i have made your acquaintance, which i considergreat good fortune; the second, that i have learned what the cave ofmontesinos contains, together with the transformations of guadiana andof thekes of ruidera; which will be of use to me for the spanishovid that i have in hand; the third, to have discovered theantiquity of cards, that they were in use at least in the time of²årlemagne, as may be inferred from the words you say durandarteuttered when, at the end of that long spell while montesinos wastalking to him, he woke up and said, patience and shuffle. thisphrase and expression he could not have learned while he wasen²ånted, but only before he had be so, in france, and in thetime of the aforesaid emperor ²årlemagne. and this demonstration isjust the thing for me for that other book i am writing, thesupplement to polydore vergil on the invention of antiquities; for ibelieve he never thought of inserting that of cards in his book, asi mean to do in mine, and it will be a matter of great importance,particrly when i can cite so grave and veracious an authority assenor durandarte. and the fourth thing is, that i have ascertained thesource of the river guadiana, heretofore unknown to mankind." "you are right," said don quixote; "but i should like to know, if bygods favour they grant you a licence to print those books of yours-which i doubt- to whom do you mean dedicate them?" "there are lords and grandees in spain to whom they can bededicated," said the cousin. "not many," said don quixote; "not that they are unworthy of it, butbecause they do not care to ept books and incur the obligation ofmaking the return that seems due to the authorsbour andcourtesy. one prince i know who makes up for all the rest, and more-how much more, if i ventured to say, perhaps i should stir up envyin many a noble breast; but let this stand over for some moreconvenient time, and let us go and look for some ce to Éälterourselves in to-night." "not far from this," said the cousin, "there is a hermitage, wherethere lives a hermit, who they say was a soldier, and who has thereputation of being a good christian and a very intelligent and²åritable man. close to the hermitage he has a small house which hebuilt at his own cost, but though small it isrge enough for thereception of guests." "has this hermit any hens, do you think?" asked sancho. "few hermits are without them," said don quixote; "for those wesee now-a-days are not like the hermits of the egyptian deserts whowere d in palm-leaves, and lived on the roots of the earth. butdo not think that by praising these i am disparaging the others; all imean to say is that the penances of those of the present day do noe up to the asceticism and austerity of former times; but it doesnot follow from this that they are not all worthy; at least i thinkthem so; and at the worst the hypocrite who pretends to be good doesless harm than the open sinner." at this point they saw approaching the spot where they stood a manon foot, proceeding at a rapid pace, and beating a mule loaded witnces and halberds. when he came up to them, he saluted them andpassed on without stopping. don quixote called to him, "stay, goodfellow; you seem to be making more haste than suits that mule." "i cannot stop, senor," answered the man; "for the arms you see icarry here are to be used tomorrow, so i must not dy; god be withyou. but if you want to know what i am carrying them for, i mean tolodge to-night at the inn that is beyond the hermitage, and if yoube going the same road you will find me there, and i will tell yousome curious things; once more god be with you;" and he urged on hismule at such a pace that don quixote had no time to ask him what thesecurious things were that he meant to tell them; and as he was somewhatinquisitive, and always tortured by his anxiety to learn somethingnew, he decided to set out at once, and go and pass the night at theinn instead of stopping at the hermitage, where the cousin wouldhave had them halt. ordingly they mounted and all three took thedirect road for the inn, which they reached a little before nightfall.on the road the cousin proposed they should go up to the hermitageto drink a sup. the instant sancho heard this he steered his dappletowards it, and don quixote and the cousin did the same; but itseems sanchos bad luck so ordered it that the hermit was not at home,for so a sub-hermit they found in the hermitage told them. they calledfor some of the best. Éä replied that her master had none, but thatif they liked cheap water Éä would give it with great pleasure. "if i found any in water," said sancho, "there are wells along theroad where i could have had enough of it. ah, camachos wedding, andplentiful house of don diego, how often do i miss you!" leaving the hermitage, they puÉäd on towards the inn, and alittle farther they came upon a youth who was pacing along in front ofthem at no great speed, so that they overtook him. he carried asword over his shoulder, and slung on it a budget or bundle of hisclothes apparently, probably his breeches or pantaloons, and his cloakand a shirt or two; for he had on a short jacket of velvet with agloss like satin on it in ces, and had his shirt out; his stockingswere of silk, and his shoes square-toed as they wear them at court.his age might have been eighteen or neen; he was of a merrycountenance, and to all appearance of an active habit, and he wentalong singing seguidis to beguile the wearisomeness of the road. asthey came up with him he was just finishing one, which the cousingot by heart and they say ran thus- im off to the wars for the want of pence, oh, had i but money id show more sense. the first to address him was don quixote, who said, "you travel veryairily, sir gant; whither bound, may we ask, if it is your pleasureto tell us?" to which the youth replied, "the heat and my poverty are thereason of my travelling so airily, and it is to the wars that i ambound." "how poverty?" asked don quixote; "the heat one can understand." "senor," replied the youth, "in this bundle i carry velvetpantaloons to match this jacket; if i wear them out on the road, ishall not be able to make a decent appearance in them in the city, andi have not the wherewithal to buy others; and so for this reason, aswell as to keep myself cool, i am making my way in this fashion toovertake somepanies of infantry that are not twelve leagues off,in which i shall enlist, and there will be no want of baggage trainsto travel with after that to the ce of embarkation, which theysay will be carthagena; i would rather have the king for a master, andserve him in the wars, than serve a court pauper."
µÚ137Ò³ "and did you get any bounty, now?" asked the cousin. "if i had been in the service of some grandee of spain orpersonage of distinction," replied the youth, "i should have been safeto get it; for that is the advantage of serving good masters, that outof the servants hall mene to be ancients or captains, or get agood pension. but i, to my misfortune, always served ce-hunters andadventurers, whose keep and wages were so miserable and scanty thathalf went in paying for the starching of ones cors; it would bea miracle indeed if a page volunteer ever got anything like areasonable bounty." "and tell me, for heavens sake," asked don quixote, "is itpossible, my friend, that all the time you served you never got anylivery?" "they gave me two," replied the page; "but just as when one quitsa religiousmunity before making profession, they strip him ofthe dress of the order and give him back his own clothes, so did mymasters return me mine; for as soon as the business on which they cameto court was finiÉäd, they went home and took back the liveriesthey had given merely for show." "what spilorceria!- as an italian would say," said don quixote; "butfor all that, consider yourself happy in having left court with asworthy an object as you have, for there is nothing on earth morehonourable or profitable than serving, first of all god, and thenones king and natural lord, particrly in the profession of arms,by which, if not more wealth, at least more honour is to be won thanby letters, as i have said many a time; for though letters may havefounded more great houses than arms, still those founded by armshave i know not what superiority over those founded by letters, anda certain splendour belonging to them that distinguiÉäs them aboveall. and bear in mind what i am now about to say to you, for it willbe of great use andfort to you in time of trouble; it is, not tolet your mind dwell on the adverse ²ånces that may befall you; forthe worst of all is death, and if it be a good death, the best ofall is to die. they asked julius caesar, the valiant roman emperor,what was the best death. he answered, that which is unexpected,whiches suddenly and unforeseen; and though he answered like apagan, and one without the knowledge of the true god, yet, as far assparing our feelings is concerned, he was right; for suppose you arekilled in the first engagement or skirmish, whether by a cannon ballor blown up by mine, what matters it? it is only dying, and all isover; and ording to terence, a soldier shows better dead in battle,than alive and safe in flight; and the good soldier wins fame inproportion as he is obedient to his captains and those inmand overhim. and remember, my son, that it is better for the soldier tosmell of gunpowder than of civet, and that if old age shoulde uponyou in this honourable calling, though you may be covered withwounds and crippled andme, it will note upon you withouthonour, and that such as poverty cannot lessen; especially now thatprovisions are being made for supporting and relieving old anddisabled soldiers; for it is not right to deal with them after thefashion of those who set free and get rid of their ck ves whenthey are old and useless, and, turning them out of their housesunder the pretence of making them free, make them ves to hunger,from which they cannot expect to be released except by death. butfor the present i wont say more than get ye up behind me on myhorse as far as the inn, and sup with me there, and to-morrow youshall pursue your journey, and god give you as good speed as yourintentions deserve." the page did not ept the invitation to mount, though he didthat to supper at the inn; and here they say sancho said to himself,"god be with you for a master; is it possible that a man who can saythings so many and so good as he has said just now, can say that hesaw the impossible absurdities he reports about the cave ofmontesinos? well, well, we shall see." and now, just as night was falling, they reached the inn, and it wasnot without satisfaction that sancho perceived his master took itfor a real inn, and not for a castle as usual. the instant theyentered don quixote asked thendlord after the man with thencesand halberds, and was told that he was in the stable seeing to hismule; which was what sancho and the cousin proceeded to do for theirbeasts, giving the best manger and the best ce in the stable torocinante. ²åpter xxv wherein is set down the braying adventure, and the droll one ofthe puppet-showman, together with the memorable divinations of thedivining ape don quixotes bread would not bake, as themon saying is, untilhe had heard and learned the curious things promised by the man whocarried the arms. he went to seek him where the innkeeper said bewas and having found him, bade him say now at any rate what he hadto say in answer to the question he had asked him on the road. "thetale of my wonders must be taken more leisurely and not standing,"said the man; "let me finish foddering my beast, good sir; and thenill tell you things that will astonish you." "dont wait for that," said don quixote; "ill help you ineverything," and so he did, sifting the barley for him and cleaningout the manger; a degree of humility which made the other feel boundto tell him with a good grace what he had asked; so seating himself ona bench, with don quixote beside him, and the cousin, the page, sanchopanza, and thendlord, for a senate and an audience, he began hisstory in this way: "you must know that in a vige four leagues and a half from thisinn, it so happened that one of the regidors, by the tricks androguery of a servant girl of his £¨its too long a tale to tell£©£¬lost an ass; and though he did all he possibly could to find it, itwas all to no purpose. a fortnight might have gone by, so the storygoes, since the ass had been missing, when, as the regidor who hadlost it was standing in the za, another regidor of the same townsaid to him, pay me for good news, gossip; your ass has turned up.that i will, and well, gossip, said the other; but tell us, wherehas he turned up? in the forest, said the finder; i saw him thismorning without pack-saddle or harness of any sort, and so lean thatit went to ones heart to see him. i tried to drive him before meand bring him to you, but he is already so wild and shy that when iwent near him he made off into the thickest part of the forest. if youhave a mind that we two should go back and look for him, let me put upthis Éä-ass at my house and ill be back at once. you will be doingme a great kindness, said the owner of the ass, and ill try topay it back in the same coin. it is with all these circumstances, andin the very same way i am telling it now, that those who know about the matter tell the story. well then, the two regidors set offon foot, arm in arm, for the forest, anding to the ce wherethey hoped to find the ass they could not find him, nor was he to beseen anywhere about, search as they might. seeing, then, that therewas no sign of him, the regidor who had seen him said to the other,look here, gossip; a n has urred to me, by which, beyond adoubt, we shall manage to discover the animal, even if he is stowedaway in the bowels of the earth, not to say the forest. here it is.i can bray to perfection, and if you can ever so little, the thingsas good as done. ever so little did you say, gossip? said theother; by god, ill not give in to anybody, not even to the assesthemselves. well soon see, said the second regidor, for my nis that you should go one side of the forest, and i the other, so asto go all round about it; and every now and then you will bray and iwill bray; and it cannot be but that the ass will hear us, andanswer us if he is in the forest. to which the owner of the assreplied, its an excellent n, i dere, gossip, and worthy ofyour great genius; and the two separating as agreed, it so fell outthat they brayed almost at the same moment, and each, deceived bythe braying of the other, ran to look, fancying the ass had turnedup atst. when they came in sight of one another, said the loser,is it possible, gossip, that it was not my ass that brayed? no,it was i, said the other. well then, i can tell you, gossip, saidthe asss owner, that between you and an ass there is not an atomof difference as far as braying goes, for i never in all my life sawor heard anything more natural. those praises andpliments belongto you more justly than to me, gossip, said the inventor of the n;for, by the god that made me, you might give a couple of brays oddsto the best and most finiÉäd brayer in the world; the tone you havegot is deep, your voice is well kept up as to time and pitch, and yourfinishing notese thick and fast; in fact, i own myself beaten, andyield the palm to you, and give in to you in this rareaplishment. well then, said the owner, ill set a higher valueon myself for the future, and consider that i know something, as ihave an excellence of some sort; for though i always thought ibrayed well, i never supposed i came up to the pitch of perfection yousay. and i say too, said the second, that there are rare giftsgoing to loss in the world, and that they are ill bestowed uponthose who dont know how to make use of them. ours, said theowner of the ass, unless it is in cases like this we have now inhand, cannot be of any service to us, and even in this god grantthey may be of some use. so saying they separated, and took totheir braying once more, but every instant they were deceiving oneanother, anding to meet one another again, until they arrangedby way of countersign, so as to know that it was they and not the ass,to give two brays, one after the other. in this way, doubling thebrays at every step, they made theplete circuit of the forest, butthe lost ass never gave them an answer or even the sign of one. howcould the poor ill-starred brute have answered, when, in thethickest part of the forest, they found him devoured by wolves? assoon as he saw him his owner said, i was wondering he did not answer,for if he wasnt dead hed have brayed when he heard us, or hedhave been no ass; but for the sake of having heard you bray to suchperfection, gossip, i count the trouble i have taken to look for himwell bestowed, even though i have found him dead. its in a goodhand, gossip, said the other; if the abbot sings well, the acolyteis not much behind him. so they returned disconste and hoarse totheir vige, where they told their friends, neighbours, andacquaintances what had befallen them in their search for the ass, eachcrying up the others perfection in braying. the whole story came tobe known and spread abroad through the viges of theneighbourhood; and the devil, who never sleeps, with his love forsowing dissensions and scattering discord everywhere, blowing mischiefabout and making quarrels out of nothing, contrived to make the peopleof the other towns fall to braying whenever they saw anyone from ourvige, as if to throw the braying of our regidors in our teeth. thenthe boys took to it, which was the same thing for it as getting intothe hands and mouths of all the devils of hell; and braying spreadfrom one town to another in such a way that the men of the brayingtown are as easy to be known as cks are to be known from whites,and the unlucky joke has gone so far that several times the scoffedhavee out in arms and in a body to do battle with the scoffers,and neither king nor rook, fear nor shame, can mend matters. to-morrowor the day after, i believe, the men of my town, that is, of thebraying town, are going to take the field against another vigetwo leagues away from ours, one of those that persecute us most; andthat we may turn out well prepared i have bought thesences andhalberds you have seen. these are the curious things i told you ihad to tell, and if you dont think them so, i have got no others;"and with this the worthy fellow brought his story to a close.
µÚ138Ò³ just at this moment there came in at the gate of the inn a manentirely d in ²åmois leather, hose, breeches, and doublet, whosaid in a loud voice, "senor host, have you room? heres thedivining ape and the show of the release of melisendra justing." "ods body!" said thendlord, "why, its master pedro! were in fora grand night!" i forgot to mention that the said master pedro had hisleft eye and nearly half his cheek covered with a patch of greentaffety, showing that something ailed all that side. "your worshipis wee, master pedro," continued thendlord; "but where arethe ape and the show, for i dont see them?" "they are close at hand,"said he in the ²åmois leather, "but i came on first to know ifthere was any room." "id make the duke of alva himself clear out tomake room for master pedro," said thendlord; "bring in the apeand the show; therespany in the inn to-night that will pay to seethat and the cleverness of the ape." "so be it by all means," said theman with the patch; "ill lower the price, and he well satisfied ifi only pay my expenses; and now ill go back and hurry on the cartwith the ape and the show;" and with this he went out of the inn. don quixote at once asked thendlord what this master pedro was,and what was the show and what was the ape he had with him; whichthendlord replied, "this is a famous puppet-showman, who for sometime past has been going about this man²å de aragon, exhibiting ashow of the release of melisendra by the famous don gaiferos, one ofthe best and best-represented stories that have been seen in this partof the kingdom for many a year; he has also with him an ape with themost extraordinary gift ever seen in an ape or imagined in a humanbeing; for if you ask him anything, he listens attentively to thequestion, and then jumps on his masters shoulder, and pressingclose to his ear tells him the answer which master pedro thendelivers. he says a great deal more about things past than aboutthings toe; and though he does not always hit the truth in everycase, most times he is not far wrong, so that he makes us fancy he hasgot the devil in him. he gets two reals for every question if theape answers; i mean if his master answers for him after he haswhispered into his ear; and so it is believed that this same masterpedro is very rich. he is a gant man as they say in italy, andgoodpany, and leads the finest life in the world; talks morethan six, drinks more than a dozen, and all by his tongue, and hisape, and his show." master pedro now came back, and in a cart followed the show andthe ape- a big one, without a tail and with buttocks as bare asfelt, but not vicious-looking. as soon as don quixote saw him, heasked him, "can you tell me, sir fortune-teller, what fish do wecatch, and how will it be with us? see, here are my two reals," and hebade sancho give them to master pedro; but he answered for the ape andsaid, "senor, this animal does not give any answer or informationtouching things that are toe; of things past he knows something,and more or less of things present." "gad," said sancho, "i would not give a farthing to be told whatspast with me, for who knows that better than i do myself? and to payfor being told what i know would be mighty foolish. but as you knowthings present, here are my two reals, and tell me, most excellent sirape, what is my wife teresa panza doing now, and what is Éä divertingherself with?" master pedro refused to take the money, saying, "i will notreceive payment in advance or until the service has been firstrendered;" and then with his right hand he gave a couple of ps onhis left shoulder, and with one spring the ape perched himself uponit, and putting his mouth to his masters ear began ²åttering histeeth rapidly; and having kept this up as long as one would besaying a credo, with another spring he brought himself to theground, and the same instant master pedro ran in great haste andfell upon his knees before don quixote, and embracing his legseximed, "these legs do i embrace as i would embrace the two pirsof hercules, o illustrious reviver of knight-errantry, so longconsigned to oblivion! o never yet duly extolled knight, don quixoteof man²å, courage of the faint-hearted, prop of the tottering, armof the fallen, staff and counsel of all who are unfortunate!" don quixote was thunderstruck, sancho astounded, the cousinstaggered, the page astoniÉäd, the man from the braying town agape,thendlord in perplexity, and, in short, everyone amazed at thewords of the puppet-showman, who went on to say, "and thou, worthysancho panza, the best squire and squire to the best knight in theworld! be of good cheer, for thy good wife teresa is well, and Éäis at this moment hackling a pound of x; and more by token Éähas at her left hand a jug with a broken spout that holds a gooddrop of wine, with which Éä sces herself at her work." "that i can well believe," said sancho. "Éä is a lucky one, andif it was not for her jealousy i would not ²ånge her for the giantessandandona, who by my masters ount was a very clever and worthywoman; my teresa is one of those that wont let themselves want foranything, though their heirs may have to pay for it." "now i dere," said don quixote, "he who reads much and travelsmuch sees and knows a great deal. i say so because what amount ofpersuasion could have persuaded me that there are apes in the worldthat can divine as i have seen now with my own eyes? for i am thatvery don quixote of man²å this worthy animal refers to, thoughhe has gone rather too far in my praise; but whatever i may be, ithank heaven that it has endowed me with a tender andpassionateheart, always disposed to do good to all and harm to none." "if i had money," said the page, "i would ask senor ape what willhappen me in the peregrination i am making." to this master pedro, who had by this time risen from donquixotes feet, replied, "i have already said that this little beastgives no answer as to the future; but if he did, not having moneywould be of no consequence, for to oblige senor don quixote, herepresent, i would give up all the profits in the world. and now,because i have promised it, and to afford him pleasure, i will setup my show and offer entertainment to all who are in the inn,without any ²årge whatever." as soon as he heard this, thndlord, delighted beyond measure, pointed out a ce where the showmight be fixed, which was done at once. don quixote was not very well satisfied with the divinations ofthe ape, as he did not think it proper that an ape should divineanything, either past or future; so while master pedro was arrangingthe show, he retired with sancho into a corner of the stable, where,without being overheard by anyone, he said to him, "look here, sancho,i have been seriously thinking over this apes extraordinary gift, andhavee to the conclusion that beyond doubt this master pedro, hismaster, has a pact, tacit or express, with the devil." "if the packet is express from the devil," said sancho, "it mustbe a very dirty packet no doubt; but what good can it do masterpedro to have such packets?" "thou dost not understand me, sancho," said don quixote; "i onlymean he must have made somepact with the devil to infuse thispower into the ape, that he may get his living, and after he has grownrich he will give him his soul, which is what the enemy of mankindwants; this i am led to believe by observing that the ape only answersabout things past or present, and the devils knowledge extends nofurther; for the future he knows only by guesswork, and that notalways; for it is reserved for god alone to know the times and theseasons, and for him there is neither past nor future; all is present.this being as it is, it is clear that this ape speaks by the spirit ofthe devil; and i am astoniÉäd they have not denounced him to the holyoffice, and put him to the question, and forced it out of him by whosevirtue it is that he divines; because it is certain this ape is not anastrologer; neither his master nor he sets up, or knows how to set up,those figures they call judiciary, which are now somon in spainthat there is not a jade, or page, or old cobbler, that will notundertake to set up a figure as readily as pick up a knave of cardsfrom the ground, bringing to nought the marvellous truth of thescience by their lies and ignorance. i know of ady who asked one ofthese figure schemers whether her littlep-dog would be in pup andwould breed, and how many and of what colour the little pups would be.to which senor astrologer, after having set up his figure, made answerthat the bitch would be in pup, and would drop three pups, onegreen, another bright red, and the third parti-coloured, providedÉä conceived between eleven and twelve either of the day or night,and on a monday or saturday; but as things turned out, two daysafter this the bitch died of a surfeit, and senor-ruler had thecredit all over the ce of being a most profound astrologer, as mostof these-rulers have." "still," said sancho, "i would be d if your worship would makemaster pedro ask his ape whether what happened your worship in thecave of montesinos is true; for, begging your worships pardon, i, formy part, take it to have been all m and lies, or at any ratesomething you dreamt." "that may be," replied don quixote; "however, i will do what yousuggest; though i have my own scruples about it."
µÚ139Ò³ at this point master pedro came up in quest of don quixote, totell him the show was now ready and toe and see it, for it wasworth seeing. don quixote exined his wish, and begged him to askhis ape at once to tell him whether certain things which hadhappened to him in the cave of montesinos were dreams or realities,for to him they appeared to partake of both. upon this master pedro,without answering, went back to fetch the ape, and, having ced itin front of don quixote and sancho, said: "see here, senor ape, thisgentleman wiÉäs to know whether certain things which happened tohim in the cave called the cave of montesinos were false or true."on his making the usual sign the ape mounted on his left shoulderand seemed to whisper in his ear, and master pedro said at once,"the ape says that the things you saw or that happened to you inthat cave are, part of them false, part true; and that he only knowsthis and no more as regards this question; but if your worshipwiÉäs to know more, on friday next he will answer all that may beasked him, for his virtue is at present exhausted, and will not returnto him till friday, as he has said." "did i not say, senor," said sancho, "that i could not bringmyself to believe that all your worship said about the adventures inthe cave was true, or even the half of it?" "the course of events will tell, sancho," replied don quixote;"time, that discloses all things, leaves nothing that it does not draginto the light of day, though it be buried in the bosom of theearth. but enough of that for the present; let us go and see masterpedros show, for i am sure there must be something novel in it." "something!" said master pedro; "this show of mine has sixtythousand novel things in it; let me tell you, senor don quixote, it isone of the best-worth-seeing things in the world this day; butoperibus credite et non verbis, and now lets get to work, for it isgrowingte, and we have a great deal to do and to say and show." don quixote and sancho obeyed him and went to where the show wasalready put up and uncovered, set all around with lighted wax taperswhich made it look splendid and bright. when they came to it masterpedro ensconced himself inside it, for it was he who had to work thepuppets, and a boy, a servant of his, posted himself outside to act asshowman and exin the mysteries of the exhibition, having a wandin his hand to point to the figures as they came out. and so, allwho were in the inn being arranged in front of the show, some ofthem standing, and don quixote, sancho, the page, and cousin,amodated with the best ces, the interpreter began to say whathe will hear or see who reads or hears the next ²åpter.²åpter xxvi wherein is continued the droll adventure of the puppet-showman,together with other things in truth right good all were silent, tyrians and trojans; i mean all who were watchingthe show were hanging on the lips of the interpreter of its wonders,when drums and trumpets were heard to sound inside it and cannon to gooff. the noise was soon over, and then the boy lifted up his voice andsaid, "this true story which is here represented to your worships istaken word for word from the french chronicles and from the spanishbads that are in everybodys mouth, and in the mouth of the boysabout the streets. its subject is the release by senor don gaiferos ofhis wife melisendra, when a captive in spain at the hands of the moorsin the city of sansuena, for so they called then what is now calledsaragossa; and there you may see how don gaiferos is ying at thetables, just as they sing it- at tables ying don gaiferos sits, for melisendra is forgotten now.and that personage who appears there with a crown on his head and asceptre in his hand is the emperor ²årlemagne, the supposed father ofmelisendra, who, angered to see his son-inws inaction andunconcern,es in to chide him; and observe with what vehemenceand energy he chides him, so that you would fancy he was going to givehim half a dozen raps with his sceptre; and indeed there are authorswho say he did give them, and sound ones too; and after having saida great deal to him about imperilling his honour by not effectingthe release of his wife, he said, so the tale runs, enough ive said, see to it now.observe, too, how the emperor turns away, and leaves don gaiferosfuming; and you see now how in a burst of anger, he flings the tableand the board far from him and calls in haste for his armour, and askshis cousin don rnd for the loan of his sword, durindana, and howdon rnd refuses to lend it, offering him hispany in thedifficult enterprise he is undertaking; but he, in his valour andanger, will not ept it, and says that he alone will suffice torescue his wife, even though Éä were imprisoned deep in the centre ofthe earth, and with this he retires to arm himself and set out onhis journey at once. now let your worships turn your eyes to thattower that appears there, which is supposed to be one of the towers ofthe alcazar of saragossa, now called the aljaferia; thatdy whoappears on that balcony dressed in moorish fashion is the peerlessmelisendra, for many a time Éä used to gaze from thence upon the roadto france, and seek constion in her captivity by thinking ofparis and her husband. observe, too, a new incident which nowurs, such as, perhaps, never was seen. do you not see that moor,who silently and stealthily, with his finger on his lip, approachesmelisendra from behind? observe now how he prints a kiss upon herlips, and what a hurry Éä is in to spit, and wipe them with the whitesleeve of her smock, and how Éä bewails herself, and tears her fairhair as though it were to me for the wrong. observe, too, thatthe stately moor who is in that corridor is king marsilio of sansuena,who, having seen the moors insolence, at once orders him £¨thoughhis kinsman and a great favourite of his£© to be seized and given twohundredÉäs, while carried through the streets of the cityording to custom, with criers going before him and officers ofjustice behind; and here you see theme out to execute thesentence, although the offence has been scarcelymitted; foramong the moors there are no indictments nor remands as with us." here don quixote called out, "child, child, go straight on with yourstory, and dont run into curves and nts, for to establish a factclearly there is need of a great deal of proof and confirmation;"and said master pedro from within, "boy, stick to your text and doas the gentleman bids you; its the best n; keep to your insong, and dont attempt harmonies, for they are apt to break down frombeing over fine." "i will," said the boy, and he went on to say, "this figure that yousee here on horseback, covered with a gascon cloak, is don gaiferoshimself, whom his wife, now avenged of the insult of the amorous moor,and taking her stand on the balcony of the tower with a calmer andmore tranquil countenance, has perceived without recognising him;and Éä addresses her husband, supposing him to be some traveller, andholds with him all that conversation and colloquy in the bad thatruns- if you, sir knight, to france are bound, oh! for gaiferos ask-which i do not repeat here because prolixity begets disgust; sufficeit to observe how don gaiferos discovers himself, and that by herjoyful gestures melisendra shows us Éä has recognised him; and whatis more, we now see Éä lowers herself from the balcony to ceherself on the haunches of her good husbands horse. but ah! unhappdy, the edge of her petticoat has caught on one of the bars of thebalcony and Éä is left hanging in the air, unable to reach theground. but you see howpassionate heaven sends aid in our sorestneed; don gaiferos advances, and without minding whether the richpetticoat is torn or not, he seizes her and by force brings her to theground, and then with one jerk ces her on the haunches of hishorse, astraddle like a man, and bids her hold on tight and spher arms round his neck, crossing them on his breast so as not tofall, for thedy melisendra was not used to that style of riding.you see, too, how the neighing of the horse shows his satisfactionwith the gant and beautiful burden he bears in his lord anddy.you see how they wheel round and quit the city, and in joy anddness take the road to paris. go in peace, o peerless pair oftrue lovers! may you reach your longed-for fathend in safety, andmay fortune interpose no impediment to your prosperous journey; maythe eyes of your friends and kinsmen behold you enjoying in peaceand tranquillity the remaining days of your life- and that they may beas many as those of nestor!" here master pedro called out again and said, "simplicity, boy!none of your high flights; all affectation is bad." the interpreter made no answer, but went on to say, "there was nowant of idle eyes, that see everything, to see melisendrae downand mount, and word was brought to king marsilio, who at once gaveorders to sound the rm; and see what a stir there is, and how thecity is drowned with the sound of the bells pealing in the towers ofall the mosques." "nay, nay," said don quixote at this; "on that point of the bellsmaster pedro is very inurate, for bells are not in use among themoors; only kettledrums, and a kind of small trumpet somewhat like ourrion; to ring bells this way in sansuena is unquestionably agreat absurdity." on hearing this, master pedro stopped ringing, and said, "dont lookinto trifles, senor don quixote, or want to have things up to apitch of perfection that is out of reach. are there not almost everyday a thousandedies represented all round us full of thousandsof inuracies and absurdities, and, for all that, they have asessful run, and are listened to not only with apuse, but withadmiration and all the rest of it? go on, boy, and dont mind; forso long as i fill my pouch, no matter if i show as many inuraciesas there are motes in a sunbeam."
µÚ140Ò³ "true enough," said don quixote; and the boy went on: "see what anumerous and glittering crowd of horsemen issues from the city inpursuit of the two faithful lovers, what a blowing of trumpets thereis, what sounding of horns, what beating of drums and tabors; i fearme they will overtake them and bring them back tied to the tail oftheir own horse, which would be a dreadful sight." don quixote, however, seeing such a swarm of moors and hearingsuch a din, thought it would be right to aid the fugitives, andstanding up he eximed in a loud voice, "never, while i live, will ipermit foul y to be practised in my presence on such a famousknight and fearless lover as don gaiferos. halt! ill-born rabble,follow him not nor pursue him, or ye will have to reckon with me inbattle!" and suiting the action to the word, he drew his sword, andwith one bound ced himself close to the show, and with unexampledrapidity and fury began to shower down blows on the puppet troop ofmoors, knocking over some, decapitating others, maiming this one anddemolishing that; and among many more he delivered one down strokewhich, if master pedro had not ducked, made himself small, and got outof the way, would have sliced off his head as easily as if it had beenmade of almond-paste. master pedro kept shouting, "hold hard! senordon quixote! cant you see theyre not real moors youre knocking downand killing and destroying, but only little pasteboard figures!look- sinner that i am!- how youre wrecking and ruining all thatim worth!" but in spite of this, don quixote did not leave offdis²årging a continuous rain of cuts, Éäs, downstrokes, andbackstrokes, and at length, in less than the space of two credos, hebrought the whole show to the ground, with all its fittings andfigures shivered and knocked to pieces, king marsilio badly wounded,and the emperor ²årlemagne with his crown and head split in two.the whole audience was thrown into confusion, the ape fled to the roofof the inn, the cousin was frightened, and even sancho panza himselfwas in mighty fear, for, as he swore after the storm was over, hehad never seen his master in such a furious passion. theplete destruction of the show being thus apliÉäd, donquixote became a little calmer, said, "i wish i had here before me nowall those who do not or will not believe how useful knights-errant arein the world; just think, if i had not been here present, what wouldhave be of the brave don gaiferos and the fair melisendra!depend upon it, by this time those dogs would have overtaken themand inflicted some outrage upon them. so, then, long liveknight-errantry beyond everything living on earth this day!" "let it live, and wee," said master pedro at this in a feeblevoice, "and let me die, for i am so unfortunate that i can say withking don rodrigo- yesterday was i lord of spain to-day ive not a turret left that i may call mine own.not half an hour, nay, barely a minute ago, i saw myself lord of kingsand emperors, with my stables filled with countless horses, and mytrunks and bags with gay dresses unnumbered; and now i find myselfruined andid low, destitute and a beggar, and above all withoutmy ape, for, by my faith, my teeth will have to sweat for it beforei have him caught; and all through the reckless fury of sir knighthere, who, they say, protects the fatherless, and rights wrongs, anddoes other ²åritable deeds; but whose generous intentions have beenfound wanting in my case only, blessed and praised be the highestheavens! verily, knight of the rueful figure he must be to havedisfigured mine." sancho panza was touched by master pedros words, and said to him,"dont weep andment, master pedro; you break my heart; let metell you my master, don quixote, is so catholic and scrupulous achristian that, if he can make out that he has done you any wrong,he will own it, and be willing to pay for it and make it good, andsomething over and above." "only let senor don quixote pay me for some part of the work hehas destroyed," said master pedro, "and i would be content, and hisworship would ease his conscience, for he cannot be saved who keepswhat is anothers against the owners will, and makes no restitution." "that is true," said don quixote; "but at present i am not awarethat i have got anything of yours, master pedro." "what!" returned master pedro; "and these relics lying here on thebare hard ground- what scattered and shattered them but the invinciblestrength of that mighty arm? and whose were the bodies they belongedto but mine? and what did i get my living by but by them?" "now am i fully convinced," said don quixote, "of what i had manya time before believed; that the en²ånters who persecute me donothing more than put figures like these before my eyes, and then²ånge and turn them into what they please. in truth and earnest, iassure you gentlemen who now hear me, that to me everything that hastaken ce here seemed to take ce literally, that melisendra wasmelisendra, don gaiferos don gaiferos, marsilio marsilio, and²årlemagne ²årlemagne. that was why my anger was roused; and to befaithful to my calling as a knight-errant i sought to give aid andprotection to those who fled, and with this good intention i didwhat you have seen. if the result has been the opposite of what iintended, it is no fault of mine, but of those wicked beings thatpersecute me; but, for all that, i am willing to condemn myself incosts for this error of mine, though it did not proceed from malice;let master pedro see what he wants for the spoiled figures, for iagree to pay it at once in good and current money of castile." master pedro made him a bow, saying, "i expected no less of the rarechristianity of the valiant don quixote of man²å, true helperand protector of all destitute and needy vagabonds; masterndlordhere and the great sancho panza shall be the arbitrators andappraisers between your worship and me of what these dpidatedfigures are worth or may be worth." thendlord and sancho consented, and then master pedro picked upfrom the ground king marsilio of saragossa with his head off, andsaid, "here you see how impossible it is to restore this king to hisformer state, so i think, saving your better judgments, that for hisdeath, decease, and demise, four reals and a half may be given me." "proceed," said don quixote. "well then, for this cleavage from top to bottom," continuedmaster pedro, taking up the split emperor ²årlemagne, "it would notbe much if i were to ask five reals and a quarter." "its not little," said sancho. "nor is it much," said thendlord; "make it even, and say fivereals." "let him have the whole five and a quarter," said don quixote;"for the sum total of this notable disaster does not stand on aquarter more or less; and make an end of it quickly, master pedro, forits getting on to supper-time, and i have some hints of hunger." "for this figure," said master pedro, "that is without a nose, andwants an eye, and is the fair melisendra, i ask, and i am reasonablein my ²årge, two reals and twelve maravedis." "the very devil must be in it," said don quixote, "if melisendra andher husband are not by this time at least on the french border, forthe horse they rode on seemed to me to fly rather than gallop; soyou neednt try to sell me the cat for the hare, showing me here anoseless melisendra when Éä is now, may be, enjoying herself at herease with her husband in france. god help every one to his own, masterpedro, and let us all proceed fairly and honestly; and now go on." master pedro, perceiving that don quixote was beginning to wander,and return to his original fancy, was not disposed to let himescape, so he said to him, "this cannot be melisendra, but must be oneof the damsels that waited on her; so if im given sixty maravedis forher, ill be content and sufficiently paid." and so he went on, putting values on ever so many more smaÉädfigures, which, after the two arbitrators had adjusted them to thesatisfaction of both parties, came to forty reals andthree-quarters; and over and above this sum, which sancho at oncedisbursed, master pedro asked for two reals for his trouble incatching the ape. "let him have them, sancho," said don quixote; "not to catch theape, but to get drunk; and two hundred would i give this minute forthe good news, to anyone who could tell me positively, that thedydona melisandra and senor don gaiferos were now in france and withtheir own people." "no one could tell us that better than my ape," said master pedro;"but theres no devil that could catch him now; i suspect, however,that affection and hunger will drive him toe looking for meto-night; but to-morrow will soon be here and we shall see." in short, the puppet-show storm passed off, and all supped inpeace and good fellowship at don quixotes expense, for he was theheight of generosity. before it was daylight the man with thencesand halberds took his departure, and soon after daybreak the cousinand the page came to bid don quixote farewell, the former returninghome, thetter resuming his journey, towards which, to help him, donquixote gave him twelve reals. master pedro did not care to engagein any more pver with don quixote, whom he knew right well; so herose before the sun, and having got together the remains of his showand caught his ape, he too went off to seek his adventures. thndlord, who did not know don quixote, was as much astoniÉäd athis mad freaks as at his generosity. to conclude, sancho, by hismasters orders, paid him very liberally, and taking leave of him theyquitted the inn at about eight in the morning and took to the road,where we will leave them to pursue their journey, for this isnecessary in order to allow certain other matters to be set forth,which are required to clear up this famous history.²åpter xxvii
µÚ141Ò³ wherein it is shown who master pedro and his ape were, together withthe mishap don quixote had in the braying adventure, which he didnot conclude as he would have liked or as he had expected cide hamete, the chronicler of this great history, begins this²åpter with these words, "i swear as a catholic christian;" withregard to which his trantor says that cide hametes swearing as acatholic christian, he being- as no doubt he was- a moor, only meantthat, just as a catholic christian taking an oath swears, or oughtto swear, what is true, and tell the truth in what he avers, so he wastelling the truth, as much as if he swore as a catholic christian,in all he chose to write about quixote, especially in dering whomaster pedro was and what was the divining ape that astoniÉäd all theviges with his divinations. he says, then, that he who has read thefirst part of this history will remember well enough the gines depasamonte whom, with other galley ves, don quixote set free inthe sierra morena: a kindness for which he afterwards got poorthanks and worse payment from that evil-minded, ill-conditioned set.this gines de pasamonte- don ginesillo de parapi, don quixotecalled him- it was that stole dapple from sancho panza; which, becauseby the fault of the printers neither the how nor the when was statedin the first part, has been a puzzle to a good many people, whoattribute to the bad memory of the author what was the error of thepress. in fact, however, gines stole him while sancho panza was asleepon his back, adopting the n and device that brunello had recourseto when he stole sacripantes horse from between his legs at the siegeof albra; and, as has been told, sancho afterwards recovered him.this gines, then, afraid of being caught by the officers of justice,who were looking for him to punish him for his numberlessrascalities and offences £¨which were so many and so great that hehimself wrote a big book giving an ount of them£©£¬ resolved to shifthis quarters into the kingdom of aragon, and cover up his left eye,and take up the trade of a puppet-showman; for this, as well asjuggling, he knew how to practise to perfection. from some releasedchristians returning from barbary, it so happened, he bought theape, which he taught to mount upon his shoulder on his making acertain sign, and to whisper, or seem to do so, in his ear. thusprepared, before entering any vige whither he was bound with hisshow and his ape, he used to inform himself at the nearest vige, orfrom the most likely person he could find, as to what particrthings had happened there, and to whom; and bearing them well in mind,the first thing be did was to exhibit his show, sometimes one story,sometimes another, but all lively, amusing, and familiar. as soon asthe exhibition was over he brought forward the aplishments ofhis ape, assuring the public that he divined all the past and thepresent, but as to the future he had no skill. for each questionanswered he asked two reals, and for some he made a reduction, just aÉä happened to feel the pulse of the questioners; and when now andthen he came to houses where things that he knew of had happened tothe people living there, even if they did not ask him a question,not caring to pay for it, he would make the sign to the ape and thendere that it had said so and so, which fitted the case exactly.in this way he acquired a prodigious name and all ran after him; onother asions, being very crafty, he would answer in such a way thatthe answers suited the questions; and as no one cross-questioned himor pressed him to tell how his ape divined, he made fools of themall and filled his pouch. the instant he entered the inn he knew donquixote and sancho, and with that knowledge it was easy for him toastonish them and all who were there; but it would have cost himdear had don quixote brought down his hand a little lower when hecut off king marsilios head and destroyed all his horsemen, asrted in the preceeding ²åpter. so much for master pedro and his ape; and now to return to donquixote of man²å. after he had left the inn he determined tovisit, first of all, the banks of the ebro and that neighbourhood,before entering the city of saragossa, for the ample time there wasstill to spare before the jousts left him enough for all. with thisobject in view he followed the road and travelled along it for twodays, without meeting any adventure worthmitting to writinguntil on the third day, as he was ascending a hill, he heard a greatnoise of drums, trumpets, and musket-shots. at first he imaginedsome regiment of soldiers was passing that way, and to see them hespurred rocinante and mounted the hill. on reaching the top he sawat the foot of it over two hundred men, as it seemed to him, armedwith weapons of various sorts,nces, crossbows, partisans, halberds,and pikes, and a few muskets and a great many bucklers. he descendedthe slope and approached the band near enough to see distinctly thegs, make out the colours and distinguish the devices they bore,especially one on a standard or ensign of white satin, on whichthere was painted in a very life-like style an ass like a little sard,with its head up, its mouth open and its tongue out, as if it werein the act and attitude of braying; and round it were inscribed irge ²åracters these two lines- they did not bray in vain, our alcaldes twain.from this device don quixote concluded that these people must befrom the braying town, and he said so to sancho, exining to himwhat was written on the standard. at the same time be observed thatthe man who had told them about the matter was wrong in saying thatthe two who brayed were regidors, for ording to the lines of thestandard they were alcaldes. to which sancho replied, "senor,theres nothing to stick at in that, for maybe the regidors who brayedthen came to he alcaldes of their town afterwards, and so they maygo by both titles; moreover, it has nothing to do with the truth ofthe story whether the brayers were alcaldes or regidors, provided atany rate they did bray; for an alcalde is just as likely to bray asa regidor." they perceived, in short, clearly that the town whichhad been twitted had turned out to do battle with some other thathad jeered it more than was fair or neighbourly. don quixote proceeded to join them, not a little to sanchosuneasiness, for he never reliÉäd miÐÔ himself up in expeditionsof that sort. the members of the troop received him into the midstof them, taking him to he some one who was on their side. don quixote,putting up his visor, advanced with an easy bearing and demeanour tothe standard with the ass, and all the chief men of the armygathered round him to look at him, staring at him with the usumazement that everybody felt on seeing him for the first time. donquixote, seeing them examining him so attentively, and that none ofthem spoke to him or put any question to him, determined to takeadvantage of their silence; so, breaking his own, he lifted up hisvoice and said, "worthy sirs, i entreat you as earnestly as i cannot to interrupt an argument i wish to address to you, until youfind it displeases or wearies you; and if thate to pass, on theslightest hint you give me i will put a seal upon my lips and a gagupon my tongue." they all bade him say what he liked, for they would listen to himwillingly. with this permission don quixote went on to say, "i, sirs, am aknight-errant whose calling is that of arms, and whose profession isto protect those who require protection, and give help to such asstand in need of it. some days ago i became acquainted with yourmisfortune and the cause which impels you to take up arms again andagain to revenge yourselves upon your enemies; and having many timesthought over your business in my mind, i find that, ording to thws ofbat, you are mistaken in holding yourselves insulted; for aprivate individual cannot insult an entiremunity; unless it beby defying it collectively as a traitor, because he cannot tell who inparticr is guilty of the treason for which he defies it. of this wehave an example in don diego ordonez dera, who defied the wholetown of zamora, because he did not know that vellido dolfos alonehadmitted the treachery of ying his king; and therefore hedefied them all, and the vengeance and the reply concerned all;though, to be sure, senor don diego went rather too far, indeed verymuch beyond the limits of a defiance; for he had no asion to defythe dead, or the waters, or the fiÉäs, or those yet unborn, and allthe rest of it as set forth; but let that pass, for when angerbreaks out theres no father, governor, or bridle to check the tongue.the case being, then, that no one person can insult a kingdom,province, city, state, or entiremunity, it is clear there is noreason for going out to avenge the defiance of such an insult,inasmuch as it is not one. a fine thing it would be if the people ofthe clock town were to be at loggerheads every moment with everyonewho called them by that name, -or the cazoleros, berengeneros,ballenatos, jaboneros, or the bearers of all the other names andtitles that are always in the mouth of the boys andmon people!it would be a nice business indeed if all these illustrious citieswere to take huff and revenge themselves and go about perpetuallymaking trombones of their swords in every petty quarrel! no, no; godforbid! there are four things for which sensible men andwell-ordered states ought to take up arms, draw their swords, and risktheir persons, lives, and properties. the first is to defend thecatholic faith; the second, to defend ones life, which is inordance with natural and divinew; the third, in defence of oneshonour, family, and property; the fourth, in the service of ones kingin a just war; and if to these we choose to add a fifth £¨which maybe included in the second£©£¬ in defence of ones country. to thesefive, as it were capital causes, there may be added some others thatmay be just and reasonable, and make it a duty to take up arms; but totake them up for trifles and things tough at and he amused byrather than offended, looks as though he who did so was altogetherwanting inmon sense. moreover, to take an unjust revenge £¨andthere cannot be any just one£© is directly opposed to the sacredwthat we acknowledge, wherein we aremanded to do good to ourenemies and to love them that hate us; amand which, though itseems somewhat difficult to obey, is only so to those who have in themless of god than of the world, and more of the flesh than of thespirit; for jesus christ, god and true man, who never lied, andcould not and cannot lie, said, as ourw-giver, that his yoke waseasy and his burden light; he would not, therefore, haveid anmand upon us that it was impossible to obey. thus, sirs, you arebound to keep quiet by human and divinew."
µÚ142Ò³ "the devil take me," said sancho to himself at this, "but thismaster of mine is a tologian; or, if not, faith, hes as like one asone egg is like another." don quixote stopped to take breath, and, observing that silencewas still preserved, had a mind to continue his discourse, and wouldhave done so had not sancho interposed with his smartness; for he,seeing his master pause, took the lead, saying, "my lord don quixoteof man²å, who once was called the knight of the ruefulcountenance, but now is called the knight of the lions, is a gentlemanof great discretion who knowstin and his mother tongue like abachelor, and in everything that he deals with or advises proceedslike a good soldier, and has all thews and ordinances of whatthey callbat at his fingers ends; so you have nothing to do butto let yourselves be guided by what he says, and on my head be it ifit is wrong. besides which, you have been told that it is folly totake offence at merely hearing a bray. i remember when i was a boy ibrayed as often as i had a fancy, without anyone hindering me, andso elegantly and naturally that when i brayed all the asses in thetown would bray; but i was none the less for that the son of myparents who were greatly respected; and though i was envied because ofthe gift by more than one of the high and mighty ones of the town, idid not care two farthings for it; and that you may see i am tellingthe truth, wait a bit and listen, for this art, like swimming, oncelearnt is never forgotten;" and then, taking hold of his nose, hebegan to bray so vigorously that all the valleys around rang again. one of those, however, that stood near him, fancying he wasmocking them, lifted up a long staff he had in his hand and smotehim such a blow with it that sancho dropped helpless to the ground.don quixote, seeing him so roughly handled, attacked the man who hadstruck himnce in hand, but so many thrust themselves between themthat he could not avenge him. far from it, finding a shower ofstones rained upon him, and crossbows and muskets unnumberedlevelled at him, he wheeled rocinante round and, as fast as his bestgallop could take him, fled from the midst of them,mending himselfto god with all his heart to deliver him out of this peril, in dreadevery step of some balling in at his back anding out at hisbreast, and every minute drawing his breath to see whether it had gonefrom him. the members of the band, however, were satisfied with seeinghim take to flight, and did not fire on him. they put up sancho,scarcely restored to his senses, on his ass, and let him go afterhis master; not that he was sufficiently in his wits to guide thebeast, but dapple followed the footsteps of rocinante, from whom hecould not remain a moment separated. don quixote having got some wayoff looked back, and seeing sanchoing, waited for him, as heperceived that no one followed him. the men of the troop stood theirground till night, and as the enemy did note out to battle, theyreturned to their town exulting; and had they been aware of theancient custom of the greeks, they would have erected a trophy onthe spot. ²åpter xxviii of matters that benengeli says he who reads them will know, if hereads them with attention when the brave man flees, treachery is manifest and it is for wisemen to reserve themselves for better asions. this proved to bethe case with don quixote, who, giving way before the fury of thetownsfolk and the hostile intentions of the angry troop, took toflight and, without a thought of sancho or the danger in which hewas leaving him, retreated to such a distance as he thought made himsafe. sancho, lying across his ass, followed him, as has been said,and at length came up, having by this time recovered his senses, andon joining him let himself drop off dapple at rocinantes feet,sore, bruised, and bboured. don quixote dismounted to examine hiswounds, but finding him whole from head to foot, he said to him,angrily enough, "in an evil hour didst thou take to braying, sancho!where hast thou learned that it is well done to mention the rope inthe house of the man that has been hanged? to the music of brayswhat harmonies couldst thou expect to get but cudgels? give thanksto god, sancho, that they signed the cross on thee just now with astick, and did not mark thee per signum crucis with a cuss." "im not equal to answering," said sancho, "for i feel as if i wasspeaking through my shoulders; let us mount and get away from this;ill keep from braying, but not from saying that knights-errant flyand leave their good squires to be pounded like privet, or made mealof at the hands of their enemies." "he does not fly who retires," returned don quixote; "for i wouldhave thee know, sancho, that the valour which is not based upon afoundation of prudence is called rashness, and the exploits of therash man are to be attributed rather to good fortune than tocourage; and so i own that i retired, but not that i fled; and thereini have followed the example of many valiant men who have reservedthemselves for better times; the histories are full of instances ofthis, but as it would not be any good to thee or pleasure to me, iwill not recount them to thee now." sancho was by this time mounted with the help of don quixote, whothen himself mounted rocinante, and at a leisurely pace they proceededto take Éälter in a grove which was in sight about a quarter of aleague off. every now and then sancho gave vent to deep sighs anddismal groans, and on don quixote asking him what caused such acutesuffering, he replied that, from the end of his back-bone up to thenape of his neck, he was so sore that it nearly drove him out of hissenses. "the cause of that soreness," said don quixote, "will be, nodoubt, that the staff wherewith they smote thee being a very long one,it caught thee all down the back, where all the parts that are soreare situated, and had it reached any further thou wouldst be sorerstill." "by god," said sancho, "your worship has relieved me of a greatdoubt, and cleared up the point for me in elegant style! body o me!is the cause of my soreness such a mystery that theres any need totell me i am sore everywhere the staff hit me? if it was my anklesthat pained me there might be something in going divining why theydid, but it is not much to divine that im sore where they thraÉädme. by my faith, master mine, the ills of others hang by a hair; everyday i am discovering more and more how little i have to hope forfrom keepingpany with your worship; for if this time you haveallowed me to be drubbed, the next time, or a hundred times more,well have the nketings of the other day over again, and all theother pranks which, if they have fallen on my shoulders now, will bethrown in my teeth by-and-by. i would do a great deal better £¨if i wasnot an ignorant brute that will never do any good all my life£©£¬ iwould do a great deal better, i say, to go home to my wife andchildren and support them and bring them up on what god may pleaseto give me, instead of following your worship along roads that leadnowhere and paths that are none at all, with little to drink andless to eat. and then when ites to sleeping! measure out sevenfeet on the earth, brother squire, and if thats not enough for you,take as many more, for you may have it all your own way and stretchyourself to your hearts content. oh that i could see burnt and turnedto aÉäs the first man that meddled with knight-errantry or at anyrate the first who chose to be squire to such fools as all theknights-errant of past times must have been! of those of the presentday i say nothing, because, as your worship is one of them, irespect them, and because i know your worship knows a point morethan the devil in all you say and think." "i wouldy a good wager with you, sancho," said don quixote, "thatnow that you are talking on without anyone to stop you, you dont fe pain in your whole body. talk away, my son, say whateveresinto your head or mouth, for so long as you feel no pain, theirritation your impertinences give me will he a pleasure to me; and ifyou are so anxious to go home to your wife and children, god forbidthat i should prevent you; you have money of mine; see how long itis since we left our vige this third time, and how much you can andought to earn every month, and pay yourself out of your own hand." "when i worked for tom carrasco, the father of the bachelor samsoncarrasco that your worship knows," replied sancho, "i used to earn twoducats a month besides my food; i cant tell what i can earn with yourworship, though i know a knight-errants squire has harder times of itthan he who works for a farmer; for after all, we who work forfarmers, however much we toil all day, at the worst, at night, we haveour o supper and sleep in a bed, which i have not slept in sincei have been in your worships service, if it wasnt the short timewe were in don diego de mirandas house, and the feast i had withthe skimmings i took off camachos pots, and what i ate, drank, andslept in basilios house; all the rest of the time i have beensleeping on the hard ground under the open sky, exposed to what theycall the inclemencies of heaven, keeping life in me with scraps ofcheese and crusts of bread, and drinking water either from thebrooks or from the springs wee to on these by-paths we travel." "i own, sancho," said don quixote, "that all thou sayest is true;how much, thinkest thou, ought i to give thee over and above whattom carrasco gave thee?" "i think," said sancho, "that if your worship was to add on tworeals a month id consider myself well paid; that is, as far as thewages of mybour go; but to make up to me for your worshipspledge and promise to me to give me the government of an ind, itwould be fair to add six reals more, making thirty in all."
µÚ143Ò³ "very good," said don quixote; "it is twenty-five days since we leftour vige, so reckon up, sancho, ording to the wages you havemade out for yourself, and see how much i owe you in proportion, andpay yourself, as i said before, out of your own hand." "o body o me!" said sancho, "but your worship is very much out inthat reckoning; for when ites to the promise of the ind we mustcount from the day your worship promised it to me to this present hourwe are at now." "well, how long is it, sancho, since i promised it to you?" said donquixote. "if i remember rightly," said sancho, "it must be over twenty years,three days more or less." don quixote gave himself a great p on the forehead and began tugh heartily, and said he, "why, i have not been wandering, eitherin the sierra morena or in the whole course of our sallies, but barelytwo months, and thou sayest, sancho, that it is twenty years since ipromised thee the ind. i believe now thou wouldst have all themoney thou hast of mine go in thy wages. if so, and if that be thypleasure, i give it to thee now, once and for all, and much good mayit do thee, for so long as i see myself rid of such a good-for-nothingsquire ill be d to be left a pauper without a rap. but tell me,thou perverter of the squirely rules of knight-errantry, where hastthou ever seen or read that any knight-errants squire made terms withhis lord, you must give me so much a month for serving you?plunge, scoundrel, rogue, monster- for such i take thee to be- plunge,i say, into the mare magnum of their histories; and if thou shalt findthat any squire ever said or thought what thou hast said now, i willlet thee nail it on my forehead, and give me, over and above, foursound ps in the face. turn the rein, or the halter, of thydapple, and begone home; for one single step further thou shalt notmake in mypany. o bread thanklessly received! o promisesill-bestowed! o man more beast than human being! now, when i was aboutto raise thee to such a position, that, in spite of thy wife, theywould call thee my lord, thou art leaving me? thou art going nowwhen i had a firm and fixed intention of making thee lord of thebest ind in the world? well, as thou thyself hast said beforenow, honey is not for the mouth of the ass. ass thou art, ass thouwilt be, and ass thou wilt end when the course of thy life is run; fori know it wille to its close before thou dost perceive ordiscern that thou art a beast." sancho regarded don quixote earnestly while he was giving him thisrating, and was so touched by remorse that the tears came to his eyes,and in a piteous and broken voice he said to him, "master mine, iconfess that, to be aplete ass, all i want is a tail; if yourworship will only fix one on to me, ill look on it as rightly ced,and ill serve you as an ass all the remaining days of my life.forgive me and have pity on my folly, and remember i know butlittle, and, if i talk much, its more from infirmity than malice; buthe who sins and mendsmends himself to god." "i should have been surprised, sancho," said don quixote, "if thouhadst not introduced some bit of a proverb into thy speech. well,well, i forgive thee, provided thou dost mend and not show thyselfin future so fond of thine own interest, but try to be of good cheerand take heart, and encourage thyself to look forward to thefulfillment of my promises, which, by being dyed, does not beimpossible." sancho said he would do so, and keep up his heart as best hecould. they then entered the grove, and don quixote settled himself atthe foot of an elm, and sancho at that of a beech, for trees of thiskind and others like them always have feet but no hands. sancho passedthe night in pain, for with the evening dews the blow of the staffmade itself felt all the more. don quixote passed it in hisnever-failing meditations; but, for all that, they had some winks ofsleep, and with the appearance of daylight they pursued theirjourney in quest of the banks of the famous ebro, where that befellthem which will be told in the following ²åpter.²åpter xxix of the famous adventure of the en²ånted bark by stages as already described or left undescribed, two days afterquitting the grove don quixote and sancho reached the river ebro,and the sight of it was a great delight to don quixote as hecontemted and gazed upon the ²årms of its banks, the clearnessof its stream, the gentleness of its current and the abundance ofits crystal waters; and the pleasant view revived a thousand tenderthoughts in his mind. above all, he dwelt upon what he had seen in thecave of montesinos; for though master pedros ape had told him that ofthose things part was true, part false, he clung more to their truththan to their falsehood, the very reverse of sancho, who held them allto be downright lies. as they were thus proceeding, then, they discovered a small boat,without oars or any other gear, thaty at the waters edge tied tothe stem of a tree growing on the bank. don quixote looked allround, and seeing nobody, at once, without more ado, dismounted fromrocinante and bade sancho get down from dapple and tie both beastssecurely to the trunk of a por or willow that stood there. sanchoasked him the reason of this sudden dismounting and tying. don quixotemade answer, "thou must know, sancho, that this bark is inly, andwithout the possibility of any alternative, calling and inviting me toenter it, and in it go to give aid to some knight or other person ofdistinction in need of it, who is no doubt in some sore strait; forthis is the way of the books of chivalry and of the en²ånters whofigure and speak in them. when a knight is involved in some difficultyfrom which he cannot be delivered save by the hand of anotherknight, though they may be at a distance of two or three thousandleagues or more one from the other, they either take him up on acloud, or they provide a bark for him to get into, and in less thanthe twinkling of an eye they carry him where they will and where hiÉälp is required; and so, sancho, this bark is ced here for thesame purpose; this is as true as that it is now day, and ere thisone passes tie dapple and rocinante together, and then in gods handbe it to guide us; for i would not hold back from embarking, thoughbarefooted friars were to beg me." "as thats the case," said sancho, "and your worship chooses to givein to these- i dont know if i may call them absurdities- at everyturn, theres nothing for it but to obey and bow the head, bearingin mind the proverb, do as thy master bids thee, and sit down totable with him; but for all that, for the sake of easing myconscience, i warn your worship that it is my opinion this bark isno en²ånted one, but belongs to some of the fiÉärmen of the river,for they catch the best shad in the world here." as sancho said this, he tied the beasts, leaving them to the careand protection of the en²ånters with sorrow enough in his heart.don quixote bade him not be uneasy about deserting the animals, "forhe who would carry themselves over such longinquous roads andregions would take care to feed them." "i dont understand that logiquous," said sancho, "nor have i everheard the word all the days of my life." "longinquous," replied don quixote, "means far off; but it is nowonder thou dost not understand it, for thou art not bound to knotin, like some who pretend to know it and dont." "now they are tied," said sancho; "what are we to do next?" "what?" said don quixote, "cross ourselves and weigh anchor; i mean,embark and cut the moorings by which the bark is held;" and the barkbegan to drift away slowly from the bank. but when sancho sawhimself somewhere about two yards out in the river, he began totremble and give himself up for lost; but nothing distressed himmore than hearing dapple bray and seeing rocinante struggling to getloose, and said he to his master, "dapple is braying in grief at ourleaving him, and rocinante is trying to escape and plunge in after us.o dear friends, peace be with you, and may this madness that is takingus away from you, turned into sober sense, bring us back to you."and with this he fell weeping so bitterly, that don quixote said tohim, sharply and angrily, "what art thou afraid of, cowardly creature?what art thou weeping at, heart of butter-paste? who pursues ormolests thee, thou soul of a tame mouse? what dost thou want,unsatisfied in the very heart of abundance? art thou, per²ånce,tramping barefoot over the riphaean mountains, instead of being seatedon a bench like an archduke on the tranquil stream of this pleasantriver, from which in a short space we shalle out upon the broadsea? but we must have already emerged and gone seven hundred oreight hundred leagues; and if i had here an astrbe to take thealtitude of the pole, i could tell thee how many we have travelled,though either i know little, or we have already crossed or shallshortly cross the equinoctial line which parts the two oppositepoles midway." "and when wee to that line your worship speaks of," said sancho,"how far shall we have gone?" "very far," said don quixote, "for of the three hundred and sixtydegrees that this terraqueous globe contains, asputed byptolemy, the greatest cosmographer known, we shall have travelledone-half when wee to the line i spoke of." "by god," said sancho, "your worship gives me a nice authority forwhat you say, putrid dolly something transmogrified, or whatever itis."
µÚ144Ò³ don quixoteughed at the interpretation sancho put upon"puted," and the name of the cosmographer ptolemy, and said he,"thou must know, sancho, that with the spaniards and those whoembark at cadiz for the east indies, one of the signs they have toshow them when they have passed the equinoctial line i told thee of,is, that the lice die upon everybody on board the ship, and not asingle one is left, or to be found in the whole vessel if they gaveits weight in gold for it; so, sancho, thou mayest as well pass thyhand down thy thigh, and if thouest upon anything alive we shallbe no longer in doubt; if not, then we have crossed." "i dont believe a bit of it," said sancho; "still, ill do asyour worship bids me; though i dont know what need there is fortrying these experiments, for i can see with my own eyes that wehave not moved five yards away from the bank, or shifted two yardsfrom where the animals stand, for there are rocinante and dapple inthe very same ce where we left them; and watching a point, as ido now, i swear by all thats good, we are not stirring or moving atthe pace of an ant." "try the test i told thee of, sancho," said don quixote, "anddont mind any other, for thou knowest nothing about colures, lines,parallels, zodiacs, ecliptics, poles, solstices, equinoxes,s,signs, bearings, the measures of which the celestial and terrestrialspheres areposed; if thou wert acquainted with all these things,or any portion of them, thou wouldst see clearly how many parallels wehave cut, what signs we have seen, and what constetions we haveleft behind and are now leaving behind. but again i tell thee, fend hunt, for i am certain thou art cleaner than a Éäet of smoothwhite paper." sancho felt, and passing his hand gently and carefully down to thehollow of his left knee, he looked up at his master and said,"either the test is a false one, or we have note to where yourworship says, nor within many leagues of it." "why, how so?" asked don quixote; "hast thoue upon aught?" "ay, and aughts," replied sancho; and shaking his fingers hewaÉäd his whole hand in the river along which the boat was quietlygliding in midstream, not moved by any ult intelligence orinvisible en²ånter, but simply by the current, just there smoothand gentle. they now came in sight of somerge water mills that stood in themiddle of the river, and the instant don quixote saw them he criedout, "seest thou there, my friend? there stands the castle orfortress, where there is, no doubt, some knight in durance, orill-used queen, or infanta, or princess, in whose aid i am broughthither." "what the devil city, fortress, or castle is your worship talkingabout, senor?" said sancho; "dont you see that those are mills thatstand in the river to grind corn?" "hold thy peace, sancho," said don quixote; "though they look likemills they are not so; i have already told thee that en²åntmentstransform things and ²ånge their proper shapes; i do not mean tosay they really ²ånge them from one form into another, but that itseems as though they did, as experience proved in the transformationof dulcinea, sole refuge of my hopes." by this time, the boat, having reached the middle of the stream,began to move less slowly than hitherto. the millers belonging tothe mills, when they saw the boating down the river, and on thepoint of being sucked in by the draught of the wheels, ran out inhaste, several of them, with long poles to stop it, and being allmealy, with faces and garments covered with flour, they presented asinister appearance. they raised loud shouts, crying, "devils ofmen, where are you going to? are you mad? do you want to drownyourselves, or dash yourselves to pieces among these wheels?" "did i not tell thee, sancho," said don quixote at this, "that wehad reached the ce where i am to show what the might of my armcan do? see what ruffians and viinse out against me; see whatmonsters oppose me; see what hideous countenancese to frighten us!you shall soon see, scoundrels!" and then standing up in the boat hebegan in a loud voice to hurl threats at the millers, eximing,"ill-conditioned and worse-counselled rabble, restore to liberty andfreedom the person ye hold in durance in this your fortress or prison,high or low or of whatever rank or quality he be, for i am don quixoteof man²å, otherwise called the knight of the lions, for whom, bythe disposition of heaven above, it is reserved to give a happyissue to this adventure;" and so saying he drew his sword and beganmaking passes in the air at the millers, who, hearing but notunderstanding all this nonsense, strove to stop the boat, which wasnow getting into the rushing ²ånnel of the wheels. sancho fell uponhis knees devoutly appealing to heaven to deliver him from suchimminent peril; which it did by the activity and quickness of themillers, who, pushing against the boat with their poles, stopped it,not, however, without upsetting and throwing don quixote and sanchointo the water; and lucky it was for don quixote that he could swimlike a goose, though the weight of his armour carried him twice to thebottom; and had it not been for the millers, who plunged in andhoisted them both out, it would have been troy town with the pair ofthem. as soon as, more drenched than thirsty, they werended, sanchowent down on his knees and with sped hands and eyes raised toheaven, prayed a long and fervent prayer to god to deliver himevermore from the rash projects and attempts of his master. thefiÉärmen, the owners of the boat, which the mill-wheels had knockedto pieces, now came up, and seeing it smaÉäd they proceeded tostrip sancho and to demand payment for it from don quixote; but hewith great calmness, just as if nothing had happened him, told themillers and fiÉärmen that he would pay for the bark mostcheerfully, on condition that they delivered up to him, free andunhurt, the person or persons that were in durance in that castle oftheirs. "what persons or what castle art thou talking of, madman? art thoufor carrying off the people whoe to grind corn in these mills?" "thats enough," said don quixote to himself, "it would be preachingin the desert to attempt by entreaties to induce this rabble to do anyvirtuous action. in this adventure two mighty en²ånters must haveencountered one another, and one frustrates what the other attempts;one provided the bark for me, and the other upset me; god help us,this world is all machinations and schemes at cross purposes onewith the other. i can do no more." and then turning towards themills he said aloud, "friends, whoeer ye be that are immured inthat prison, forgive me that, to my misfortune and yours, i cannotdeliver you from your misery; this adventure is doubtless reserved anddestined for some other knight." so saying he settled with the fiÉärmen, and paid fifty reals forthe boat, which sancho handed to them very much against the grain,saying, "with a couple more bark businesses like this we shall havesunk our whole capital." the fiÉärmen and the millers stood staring in amazement at thetwo figures, so very different to all appearance from ordinary men,and were wholly unable to make out the drift of the observations andquestions don quixote addressed to them; anding to theconclusion that they were madmen, they left them and betookthemselves, the millers to their mills, and the fiÉärmen to theirhuts. don quixote and sancho returned to their beasts, and to theirlife of beasts, and so ended the adventure of the en²ånted bark. ²åpter xxx of don quixotes adventure with a fair huntress they reached their beasts in low spirits and bad humour enough,knight and squire, sancho particrly, for with him what touchedthe stock of money touched his heart, and when any was taken fromhim he felt as if he was robbed of the apples of his eyes. in fine,without ex²ånging a word, they mounted and quitted the famousriver, don quixote absorbed in thoughts of his love, sancho inthinking of his advancement, which just then, it seemed to him, he wasvery far from securing; for, fool as he was, he saw clearly enoughthat his masters acts were all or most of them utterly senseless; andhe began to cast about for an opportunity of retiring from his serviceand going home some day, without entering into any exnations ortaking any farewell of him. fortune, however, ordered matters aftera fashion very much the opposite of what he contemted. it so happened that the next day towards sunset, oning out ofa wood, don quixote cast his eyes over a green meadow, and at thefar end of it observed some people, and as he drew nearer saw thatit was a hawking party.ing closer, he distinguiÉäd among them dy of graceful mien, on a pure white palfrey or hackneycaparisoned with green trappings and a silver-mounted side-saddle. thdy was also in green, and so richly and splendidly dressed thatsplendour itself seemed personified in her. on her left hand Éäbore a hawk, a proof to don quixotes mind that Éä must be some gready and the mistress of the whole hunting party, which was thefact; so he said to sancho, "run sancho, my son, and say to thady on the palfrey with the hawk that i, the knight of the lions,kiss the hands of her exalted beauty, and if her excellence will grantme leave i will go and kiss them in person and ce myself at herservice for aught that may be in my power and her highness mamand; and mind, sancho, how thou speakest, and take care not tothrust in any of thy proverbs into thy message."
µÚ145Ò³ "youve got a likely one here to thrust any in!" said sancho; "leaveme alone for that! why, this is not the first time in my life i havecarried messages to high and exalteddies." "except that thou didst carry to thedy dulcinea," said donquixote, "i know not that thou hast carried any other, at least inmy service." "that is true," replied sancho; "but pledges dont distress a goodpayer, and in a house where theres plenty supper is soon cooked; imean theres no need of telling or warning me about anything; forim ready for everything and know a little of everything." "that i believe, sancho," said don quixote; "go and good luck tothee, and god speed thee." sancho went off at top speed, forcing dapple out of his regrpace, and came to where the fair huntress was standing, anddismounting knelt before her and said, "fairdy, that knight thatyou see there, the knight of the lions by name, is my master, and i ama squire of his, and at home they call me sancho panza. this sameknight of the lions, who was called not long since the knight of therueful countenance, sends by me to say may it please your highnessto give him leave that, with your permission, approbation, andconsent, he maye and carry out his wiÉäs, which are, as he saysand i believe, to serve your exalted loftiness and beauty; and ifyou give it, yourdyship will do a thing which will redound toyour honour, and he will receive a most distinguiÉäd favour andhappiness." "you have indeed, squire," said thedy, "delivered your messagewith all the formalities such messages require; rise up, for it is notright that the squire of a knight so great as he of the ruefulcountenance, of whom we have heard a great deal here, should remain onhis knees; rise, my friend, and bid your master wee to theservices of myself and the duke my husband, in a country house we havehere." sancho got up, ²årmed as much by the beauty of the gooddy asby her high-bred air and her courtesy, but, above all, by what Éä hadsaid about having heard of his master, the knight of the ruefulcountenance; for if Éä did not call him knight of the lions it was nodoubt because he had sotely taken the name. "tell me, brothersquire," asked the duchess £¨whose title, however, is not known£©£¬ "thismaster of yours, is he not one of whom there is a history extant inprint, called the ingenious gentleman, don quixote of man²å, whohas for thedy of his heart a certain dulcinea del toboso?" "he is the same, senora," replied sancho; "and that squire of hiswho figures, or ought to figure, in the said history under the name ofsancho panza, is myself, unless they have ²ånged me in the cradle,i mean in the press." "i am rejoiced at all this," said the duchess; "go, brother panza,and tell your master that he is wee to my estate, and that nothingcould happen me that could give me greater pleasure." sancho returned to his master mightily pleased with thisgratifying answer, and told him all the greatdy had said to himuding to the skies, in his rustic phrase, her rare beauty, hergraceful gaiety, and her courtesy. don quixote drew himself up brisklyin his saddle, fixed himself in his stirrups, settled his visor,gave rocinante the spur, and with an easy bearing advanced to kiss thehands of the duchess, who, having sent to summon the duke her husband,told him while don quixote was approaching all about the message;and as both of them had read the first part of this history, andfrom it were aware of don quixotes crazy turn, they awaited himwith the greatest delight and anxiety to make his acquaintance,meaning to fall in with his humour and agree with everything hesaid, and, so long as he stayed with them, to treat him as aknight-errant, with all the ceremonies usual in the books ofchivalry they had read, for they themselves were very fond of them. don quixote now came up with his visor raised, and as he seemedabout to dismount sancho made haste to go and hold his stirrup forhim; but in getting down off dapple he was so unlucky as to hitchhis foot in one of the ropes of the pack-saddle in such a way thathe was unable to free it, and was left hanging by it with his face andbreast on the ground. don quixote, who was not used to dismountwithout having the stirrup held, fancying that sancho had by this time to hold it for him, threw himself off with a lurch and broughtrocinantes saddle after him, which was no doubt badly girthed, andsaddle and he both came to the ground; not without difiture to himand abundant curses muttered between his teeth against the unluckysancho, who had his foot still in the shackles. the duke ordered hishuntsmen to go to the help of knight and squire, and they raised donquixote, sorely shaken by his fall; and he, limping, advanced asbest he could to kneel before the noble pair. this, however, theduke would by no means permit; on the contrary, dismounting from hishorse, he went and embraced don quixote, saying, "i am grieved, sirknight of the rueful countenance, that your first experience on myground should have been such an unfortunate one as we have seen; butthe carelessness of squires is often the cause of worse idents." "that which has happened me in meeting you, mighty prince,"replied don quixote, "cannot be unfortunate, even if my fall had notstopped short of the depths of the bottomless pit, for the glory ofhaving seen you would have lifted me up and delivered me from it. mysquire, gods curse upon him, is better at unloosing his tongue intalking impertinence than in tightening the girths of a saddle to keepit steady; but however i may be, allen or raised up, on foot or onhorseback, i shall always be at your service and that of mydy theduchess, your worthy consort, worthy queen of beauty and paramountprincess of courtesy." "gently, senor don quixote of man²å," said the duke; "where mdy dona dulcinea del toboso is, it is not right that otherbeauties should he praised." sancho, by this time released from his entanglement, was standingby, and before his master could answer he said, "there is nodenying, and it must be maintained, that mydy dulcinea del tobosois very beautiful; but the hare jumps up where one least expects it;and i have heard say that what we call nature is like a potter thatmakes vessels of y, and he who makes one fair vessel can as wellmake two, or three, or a hundred; i say so because, by my faith, mdy the duchess is in no way behind my mistress thedy dulcinea deltoboso." don quixote turned to the duchess and said, "your highness mayconceive that never had knight-errant in this world a more talkativeor a droller squire than i have, and he will prove the truth of what isay, if your highness is pleased to ept of my services for a fewdays." to which the duchess made answer, "that worthy sancho is droll iconsider a very good thing, because it is a sign that he is shrewd;for drollery and sprightliness, senor don quixote, as you very wellknow, do not take up their abode with dull wits; and as good sancho isdroll and sprightly i here set him down as shrewd." "and talkative," added don quixote. "so much the better," said the duke, "for many droll things cannotbe said in few words; but not to lose time in talking,e, greatknight of the rueful countenance-" "of the lions, your highness must say," said sancho, "for there isno rueful countenance nor any such ²åracter now." "he of the lions be it," continued the duke; "i say, let sirknight of the lionse to a castle of mine close by, where heshall be given that reception which is due to so exalted apersonage, and which the duchess and i are wont to give to allknights-errant whoe there." by this time sancho had fixed and girthed rocinantes saddle, anddon quixote having got on his back and the duke mounted a finehorse, they ced the duchess in the middle and set out for thecastle. the duchess desired sancho toe to her side, for Éäfound infinite enjoyment in listening to his shrewd remarks. sanchorequired no pressing, but puÉäd himself in between them and the duke,who thought it rare good fortune to receive such a knight-errant andsuch a homely squire in their castle. ²åpter xxxi which treats of many and great matters supreme was the satisfaction that sancho felt at seeing himself,as it seemed, an establiÉäd favourite with the duchess, for he lookedforward to finding in her castle what he had found in don diegoshouse and in basilios; he was always fond of good living, andalways seized by the forelock any opportunity of feasting himselfwhenever it presented itself. the history informs us, then, thatbefore they reached the country house or castle, the duke went on inadvance and instructed all his servants how they were to treat donquixote; and so the instant he came up to the castle gates with theduchess, twockeys or equerries, d in what they call morninggowns of fine crimson satin reaching to their feet, hastened out,and catching don quixote in their arms before he saw or heard them,said to him, "your highness should go and take mydy the duchess offher horse." don quixote obeyed, and great bandying ofplimentsfollowed between the two over the matter; but in the end the duchesssdetermination carried the day, and Éä refused to get down or dismountfrom her palfrey except in the arms of the duke, saying Éä did notconsider herself worthy to impose so unnecessary a burden on sogreat a knight. at length the duke came out to take her down, and asthey entered a spacious court two fair damsels came forward andthrew over don quixotes shoulders arge mantle of the finestscarlet cloth, and at the same instant all the galleries of thecourt were lined with the men-servants and women-servants of thehousehold, crying, "wee, flower and cream of knight-errantry!"while all or most of them flung pellets filled with scented water overdon quixote and the duke and duchess; at all which don quixote wasgreatly astoniÉäd, and this was the first time that he thoroughlyfelt and believed himself to be a knight-errant in reality and notmerely in fancy, now that he saw himself treated in the same way as hehad read of such knights being treated in days of yore.
µÚ146Ò³ sancho, deserting dapple, hung on to the duchess and entered thecastle, but feeling some twinges of conscience at having left theass alone, he approached a respectable duenna who hade out withthe rest to receive the duchess, and in a low voice he said to her,"senora gonzalez, or however your grace may be called-" "i am called dona rodriguez de grijalba," replied the duenna;"what is your will, brother?" to which sancho made answer, "i shouldbe d if your worship would do me the favour to go out to the castlegate, where you will find a grey ass of mine; make them, if youplease, put him in the stable, or put him there yourself, for the poorlittle beast is rather easily frightened, and cannot bear beingalone at all." "if the master is as wise as the man," said the duenna, "we have gota fine bargain. be off with you, brother, and bad luck to you andhim who brought you here; go, look after your ass, for we, the duennasof this house, are not used to work of that sort." "well then, in troth," returned sancho, "i have heard my master, whois the very treasure-finder of stories, telling the story oncelot when he came from britain, say thatdies waited upon himand duennas upon his hack; and, if ites to my ass, i wouldnt²ånge him for senorncelots hack." "if you are a jester, brother," said the duenna, "keep yourdrolleries for some ce where theyll pass muster and be paid for;for youll get nothing from me but a fig." "at any rate, it will be a very ripe one," said sancho, "for youwont lose the trick in years by a point too little." "son of a bitch," said the duenna, all aglow with anger, "whetherim old or not, its with god i have to reckon, not with you, yougarlic-stuffed scoundrel!" and Éä said it so loud, that the duchesÉäard it, and turning round and seeing the duenna in such a state ofexcitement, and her eyes ming so, asked whom Éä was wranglingwith. "with this good fellow here," said the duenna, "who has particrlyrequested me to go and put an ass of his that is at the castle gateinto the stable, holding it up to me as an example that they did thesame i dont know where- that somedies waited on onencelot,and duennas on his hack; and what is more, to wind up with, hecalled me old." "that," said the duchess, "i should have considered the greatestaffront that could be offered me;" and addressing sancho, Éä saidto him, "you must know, friend sancho, that dona rodriguez is veryyouthful, and that Éä wears that hood more for authority and customsake than because of her years." "may all the rest of mine be unlucky," said sancho, "if i meant itthat way; i only spoke because the affection i have for my ass is sogreat, and i thought i could notmend him to a more kind-heartedperson than thedy dona rodriguez." don quixote, who was listening, said to him, "is this properconversation for the ce, sancho?" "senor," replied sancho, "every one must mention what he wantswherever he may be; i thought of dapple here, and i spoke of him here;if i had thought of him in the stable i would have spoken there." on which the duke observed, "sancho is quite right, and there isno reason at all to find fault with him; dapple shall be fed to hiÉäarts content, and sancho may rest easy, for he shall be treatedlike himself." while this conversation, amusing to all except don quixote, wasproceeding, they ascended the staircase and uÉäred don quixote into a²åmber hung with rich cloth of gold and brocade; six damsels relievedhim of his armour and waited on him like pages, all of them preparedand instructed by the duke and duchess as to what they were to do, andhow they were to treat don quixote, so that he might see and believethey were treating him like a knight-errant. when his armour wasremoved, there stood don quixote in his tight-fitting breeches and²åmois doublet, lean,nky, and long, with cheeks that seemed tobe kissing each other inside; such a figure, that if the damselswaiting on him had not taken care to check their merriment £¨whichwas one of the particr directions their master and mistress hadgiven them£©£¬ they would have burst withughter. they asked him tolet himself be stripped that they might put a shirt on him, but hewould not on any ount, saying that modesty became knights-errantjust as much as valour. however, he said they might give the shirtto sancho; and shutting himself in with him in a room where therewas a sumptuous bed, he undressed and put on the shirt; and then,finding himself alone with sancho, he said to him, "tell me, thounew-fledged buffoon and old booby, dost thou think it right tooffend and insult a duenna so deserving of reverence and respect asthat one just now? was that a time to bethink thee of thy dapple, orare these noble personages likely to let the beasts fare badly whenthey treat their owners in such elegant style? for gods sake, sancho,restrain thyself, and dont show the thread so as to let them see whata coarse, boorish texture thou art of. remember, sinner that thou art,the master is the more esteemed the more respectable and well-bred hisservants are; and that one of the greatest advantages that princeshave over other men is that they have servants as good as themselvesto wait on them. dost thou not see- shortsighted being that thouart, and unlucky mortal that i am!- that if they perceive thee to be acoarse clown or a dull blockhead, they will suspect me to be someimpostor or swindler? nay, nay, sancho friend, keep clear, oh, keepclear of these stumbling-blocks; for he who falls into the way ofbeing a ²åtterbox and droll, drops into a wretched buffoon thefirst time he trips; bridle thy tongue, consider and weigh thy wordsbefore they escape thy mouth, and bear in mind we are now inquarters whence, by gods help, and the strength of my arm, we shale forth mightily advanced in fame and fortune." sancho promised him with much earnestness to keep his mouth shut,and to bite off his tongue before he uttered a word that was notaltogether to the purpose and well considered, and told him he mightmake his mind easy on that point, for it should never be discoveredthrough him what they were. don quixote dressed himself, put on his baldric with his sword,threw the scarlet mantle over his shoulders, ced on his head amontera of green satin that the damsels had given him, and thusarrayed passed out into therge room, where he found the damselsdrawn up in double file, the same number on each side, all with theappliances for washing the hands, which they presented to him withprofuse obeisances and ceremonies. then came twelve pages, togetherwith the senes²ål, to lead him to dinner, as his hosts were alreadywaiting for him. they ced him in the midst of them, and with muchpomp and stateliness they conducted him into another room, where therewas a sumptuous tableid with but four covers. the duchess and theduke came out to the door of the room to receive him, and with thema grave lesiastic, one of those who rule noblemens houses; oneof those who, not being born magnates themselves, never know how toteach those who are how to behave as such; one of those who would havethe greatness of great folk measured by their own narrowness ofmind; one of those who, when they try to introduce economy into thehousehold they rule, lead it into meanness. one of this sort, i say,must have been the grave churchman who came out with the duke andduchess to receive don quixote. a vast number of polite speeches were ex²ånged, and at length,taking don quixote between them, they proceeded to sit down totable. the duke pressed don quixote to take the head of the table,and, though he refused, the entreaties of the duke were so urgent thathe had to ept it. the lesiastic took his seat opposite to him, and the duke andduchess those at the sides. all this time sancho stood by, gaping withamazement at the honour he saw shown to his master by theseillustrious persons; and observing all the ceremonious pressing thathad passed between the duke and don quixote to induce him to takehis seat at the head of the table, he said, "if your worship will giveme leave i will tell you a story of what happened in my vigeabout this matter of seats." the moment sancho said this don quixote trembled, making sure thathe was about to say something foolish. sancho nced at him, andguessing his thoughts, said, "dont be afraid of my going astray,senor, or saying anything that wont be pat to the purpose; ihavent forgotten the advice your worship gave me just now abouttalking much or little, well or ill." "i have no recollection of anything, sancho," said don quixote; "saywhat thou wilt, only say it quickly." "well then," said sancho, "what i am going to say is so true that mymaster don quixote, who is here present, will keep me from lying." "lie as much as thou wilt for all i care, sancho," said don quixote,"for i am not going to stop thee, but consider what thou art goingto say." "i have so considered and reconsidered," said sancho, "that thebell-ringers in a safe berth; as will be seen by what follows." "it would be well," said don quixote, "if your highnesses wouldorder them to turn out this idiot, for he will talk a heap ofnonsense." "by the life of the duke, sancho shall not be taken away from me fora moment," said the duchess; "i am very fond of him, for i know heis very discreet."
µÚ147Ò³ "discreet be the days of your holiness," said sancho, "for thegood opinion you have of my wit, though theres none in me; but thestory i want to tell is this. there was an invitation given by agentleman of my town, a very rich one, and one of quality, for hewas one of the mos of medina del campo, and married to donamencia de quinones, the daughter of don alonso de maranon, knight ofthe order of santiago, that was drowned at the herradura- him therewas that quarrel about years ago in our vige, that my master donquixote was mixed up in, to the best of my belief, that tomasillothe scapegrace, the son of balbastro the smith, was wounded in.- isntall this true, master mine? as you live, say so, that these gentlefolkmay not take me for some lying ²åtterer." "so far," said the lesiastic, "i take you to be more a²åtterer than a liar; but i dont know what i shall take you forby-and-by." "thou citest so many witnesses and proofs, sancho," said donquixote, "that i have no choice but to say thou must be telling thetruth; go on, and cut the story short, for thou art taking the way notto make an end for two days toe." "he is not to cut it short," said the duchess; "on the contrary, formy gratification, he is to tell it as he knows it, though he shouldnot finish it these six days; and if he took so many they would beto me the pleasantest i ever spent." "well then, sirs, i say," continued sancho, "that this samegentleman, whom i know as well as i do my own hands, for its not abowshot from my house to his, invited a poor but respectablbourer-" "get on, brother," said the churchman; "at the rate you are goingyou will not stop with your story short of the next world." "ill stop less than half-way, please god," said sancho; "and so isay thisbourer,ing to the house of the gentleman i spoke ofthat invited him- rest his soul, he is now dead; and more by tokenhe died the death of an angel, so they say; for i was not there, forjust at that time i had gone to reap at tembleque-" "as you live, my son," said the churchman, "make haste back fromtembleque, and finish your story without burying the gentleman, unlessyou want to make more funerals." "well then, it so happened," said sancho, "that as the pair ofthem were going to sit down to table -and i think i can see them nowiner than ever-" great was the enjoyment the duke and duchess derived from theirritation the worthy churchman showed at the long-winded, halting waysancho had of telling his story, while don quixote was ²åfing withrage and vexation. "so, as i was saying," continued sancho, "as the pair of them weregoing to sit down to table, as i said, thebourer insisted uponthe gentlemans taking the head of the table, and the gentlemaninsisted upon thebourers taking it, as his orders should be obeyedin his house; but thebourer, who plumed himself on his politenessand good breeding, would not on any ount, until the gentleman,out of patience, putting his hands on his shoulders,pelled himby force to sit down, saying, sit down, you stupid lout, for whereveri sit will he the head to you; and thats the story, and, troth, ithink it hasnt been brought in amiss here." don quixote turned all colours, which, on his sunburnt face, mottledit till it looked like jasper. the duke and duchess suppressed theiughter so as not altogether to mortify don quixote, for they sawthrough sanchos impertinence; and to ²ånge the conversation, andkeep sancho from uttering more absurdities, the duchess asked donquixote what news he had of thedy dulcinea, and if he had senther any presents of giants or miscreantstely, for he could notbut have vanquiÉäd a good many. to which don quixote replied, "senora, my misfortunes, though theyhad a beginning, will never have an end. i have vanquiÉäd giantsand i have sent her caitiffs and miscreants; but where are they tofind her if Éä is en²ånted and turned into the most ill-favouredpeasant wench that can be imagined?" "i dont know," said sancho panza; "to me Éä seems the fairestcreature in the world; at any rate, in nimbleness and jumping Éäwont give in to a tumbler; by my faith, senora duchess, Éä leapsfrom the ground on to the back of an ass like a cat." "have you seen her en²ånted, sancho?" asked the duke. "what, seen her!" said sancho; "why, who the devil was it but myselfthat first thought of the en²åntment business? Éä is as muchen²ånted as my father." the lesiastic, when he heard them talking of giants andcaitiffs and en²åntments, began to suspect that this must be donquixote of man²å, whose story the duke was always reading; andhe had himself often reproved him for it, telling him it was foolishto read such fooleries; and bing convinced that his suspicionwas correct, addressing the duke, he said very angrily to him, "senor,your excellence will have to give ount to god for what this goodman does. this don quixote, or don simpleton, or whatever his name is,cannot, i imagine, be such a blockhead as your excellence would havehim, holding out encouragement to him to go on with his vagaries andfollies." then turning to address don quixote he said, "and you,num-skull, who put it into your head that you are a knight-errant, andvanquish giants and capture miscreants? go your ways in a good hour,and in a good hour be it said to you. go home and bring up yourchildren if you have any, and attend to your business, and give overgoing wandering about the world, gaping and making aughing-stock ofyourself to all who know you and all who dont. where, in heavensname, have you discovered that there are or ever wereknights-errant? where are there giants in spain or miscreants inman²å, or en²ånted dulcineas, or all the rest of the silly thingsthey tell about you?" don quixote listened attentively to the reverend gentlemanswords, and as soon as he perceived he had done speaking, regardless ofthe presence of the duke and duchess, he sprang to his feet with angrylooks and an agitated countenance, and said -but the reply deservesa ²åpter to itself. ²åpter xxxii of the reply don quixote gave his censurer, with other incidents,grave and droll don quixote, then, having risen to his feet, trembling from headto foot like a man dosed with mercury, said in a hurried, agitatedvoice, "the ce i am in, the presence in which i stand, and therespect i have and always have had for the profession to which yourworship belongs, hold and bind the hands of my just indignation; andas well for these reasons as because i know, as everyone knows, that agownsmans weapon is the same as a womans, the tongue, i will withmine engage in equalbat with your worship, from whom one mighthave expected good advice instead of foul abuse. pious, well-meantreproof requires a different demeanour and arguments of anothersort; at any rate, to have reproved me in public, and so roughly,exceeds the bounds of proper reproof, for thates better withgentleness than with rudeness; and it is not seemly to call the sinnerroundly blockhead and booby, without knowing anything of the sinthat is reproved.e, tell me, for which of the stupidities you haveobserved in me do you condemn and abuse me, and bid me go home andlook after my house and wife and children, without knowing whether ihave any? is nothing more needed than to get a footing, by hook orby crook, in other peoples houses to rule over the masters £¨and that,perhaps, after having been brought up in all the straitness of someseminary, and without having ever seen more of the world than maylie within twenty or thirty leagues round£©£¬ to fit one toy down thw rashly for chivalry, and pass judgment on knights-errant? is it,haply, an idle upation, or is the time ill-spent that is spent inroaming the world in quest, not of its enjoyments, but of thosearduous toils whereby the good mount upwards to the abodes ofevesting life? if gentlemen, great lords, nobles, men of highbirth, were to rate me as a fool i should take it as an irreparableinsult; but i care not a farthing if clerks who have never enteredupon or trod the paths of chivalry should think me foolish. knight iam, and knight i will die, if such be the pleasure of the most high.some take the broad road of overweening ambition; others that ofmean and servile ttery; others that of deceitful hypocrisy, andsome that of true religion; but i, led by my star, follow the narrowpath of knight-errantry, and in pursuit of that calling i despisewealth, but not honour. i have redressed injuries, righted wrongs,puniÉäd insolences, vanquiÉäd giants, and cruÉäd monsters; i amin love, for no other reason than that it is incumbent onknights-errant to be so; but though i am, i am no carnal-minded lover,but one of the ²åste, tonic sort. my intentions are alwaysdirected to worthy ends, to do good to all and evil to none; and if hewho means this, does this, and makes this his practice deserves tobe called a fool, it is for your highnesses to say, o most excellentduke and duchess." "good, by god!" cried sancho; "say no more in your own defence,master mine, for theres nothing more in the world to be said,thought, or insisted on; and besides, when this gentleman denies, aÉä has, that there are or ever have been any knights-errant in theworld, is it any wonder if he knows nothing of what he has beentalking about?"
µÚ148Ò³ "perhaps, brother," said the lesiastic, "you are that sanchopanza that is mentioned, to whom your master has promised an ind?" "yes, i am," said sancho, "and whats more, i am one who deserves itas much as anyone; i am one of the sort- attach thyself to thegood, and thou wilt be one of them, and of those, not with whom thouart bred, but with whom thou art fed, and of those, who leansagainst a good tree, a good shade covers him; i have leant upon agood master, and i have been for months going about with him, andplease god i shall be just such another; long life to him and longlife to me, for neither will he be in any want of empires to rule,or i of inds to govern." "no, sancho my friend, certainly not," said the duke, "for in thename of senor don quixote i confer upon you the government of one ofno small importance that i have at my disposal." "go down on thy knees, sancho," said don quixote, "and kiss the feetof his excellence for the favour he has bestowed upon thee." sancho obeyed, and on seeing this the lesiastic stood up fromtablepletely out of temper, eximing, "by the gown i wear, iam almost inclined to say that your excellence is as great a fool asthese sinners. no wonder they are mad, when people who are in theirsenses sanction their madness! i leave your excellence with them,for so long as they are in the house, i will remain in my own, andspare myself the trouble of reproving what i cannot remedy;" andwithout uttering another word, or eating another morsel, he wentoff, the entreaties of the duke and duchess being entirelyunavailing to stop him; not that the duke said much to him, for hecould not, because of theughter his uncalled-for anger provoked. when he had doneughing, he said to don quixote, "you have repliedon your own behalf so stoutly, sir knight of the lions, that thereis no asion to seek further satisfaction for this, which, though itmay look like an offence, is not so at all, for, as women can giveno offence, no more can lesiastics, as you very well know." "that is true," said don quixote, "and the reason is, that he who isnot liable to offence cannot give offence to anyone. women,children, and lesiastics, as they cannot defend themselves,though they may receive offence cannot be insulted, because betweenthe offence and the insult there is, as your excellence very wellknows, this difference: the insultes from one who is capable ofoffering it, and does so, and maintains it; the offence mayefrom any quarter without carrying insult. to take an example: a man isstanding unsuspectingly in the street and ten otherse up armed andbeat him; he draws his sword and quits himself like a man, but thenumber of his antagonists makes it impossible for him to effect hispurpose and avenge himself; this man suffers an offence but not aninsult. another example will make the same thing in: a man isstanding with his back turned, anotheres up and strikes him, andafter striking him takes to flight, without waiting an instant, andthe other pursues him but does not overtake him; he who received theblow received an offence, but not an insult, because an insult must bemaintained. if he who struck him, though he did so sneakingly andtreacherously, had drawn his sword and stood and faced him, then hewho had been struck would have received offence and insult at the sametime; offence because he was struck treacherously, insult because hewho struck him maintained what he had done, standing his groundwithout taking to flight. and so, ording to thews of theursed duel, i may have received offence, but not insult, forneither women nor children can maintain it, nor can they wound, norhave they any way of standing their ground, and it is just the samewith those connected with religion; for these three sorts of personsare without arms offensive or defensive, and so, though naturally theyare bound to defend themselves, they have no right to offendanybody; and though i said just now i might have received offence, isay now certainly not, for he who cannot receive an insult can stillless give one; for which reasons i ought not to feel, nor do i feel,aggrieved at what that good man said to me; i only wish he hadstayed a little longer, that i might have shown him the mistake hemakes in supposing and maintaining that there are not and never havebeen any knights-errant in the world; had amadis or any of hiscountless descendants heard him say as much, i am sure it would nothave gone well with his worship." "i will take my oath of that," said sancho; "they would have givenhim a sh that would have slit him down from top to toe like apomegranate or a ripe melon; they were likely fellows to put up withjokes of that sort! by my faith, im certain if reinaldos of montalvanhad heard the little mans words he would have given him such aspank on the mouth that he wouldnt have spoken for the next threeyears; ay, let him tackle them, and hell see how hell get out oftheir hands!" the duchess, as Éä listened to sancho, was ready to die witughter, and in her own mind Éä set him down as droller and madderthan his master; and there were a good many just then who were ofthe same opinion. don quixote finally grew calm, and dinner came to an end, and as thecloth was removed four damsels came in, one of them with a silverbasin, another with a jug also of silver, a third with two finewhite towels on her shoulder, and the fourth with her arms bared tothe elbows, and in her white hands £¨for white they certainly were£© around ball of naples soap. the one with the basin approached, and witharchposure and impudence, thrust it under don quixotes chin, who,wondering at such a ceremony, said never a word, supposing it to bethe custom of that country to wash beards instead of hands; hetherefore stretched his out as far as he could, and at the sameinstant the jug began to pour and the damsel with the soap rubbedhis beard briskly, raising snow-kes, for the soapther was noless white, not only over the beard, but all over the face, and overthe eyes of the submissive knight, so that they were perforceobliged to keep shut. the duke and duchess, who had not known anythingabout this, waited to see what came of this strange washing. thebarber damsel, when Éä had him a hands breadth deep inther,pretended that there was no more water, and bade the one with thejug go and fetch some, while senor don quixote waited. Éä did so, anddon quixote was left the strangest and most ludicrous figure thatcould be imagined. all those present, and there were a good many, werewatching him, and as they saw him there with half a yard of neck,and that umonly brown, his eyes shut, and his beard full ofsoap, it was a great wonder, and only by great discretion, that theywere able to restrain theirughter. the damsels, the concocters ofthe joke, kept their eyes down, not daring to look at their master andmistress; and as for them,ughter and anger struggled within them,and they knew not what to do, whether to punish the audacity of thegirls, or to reward them for the amusement they had received fromseeing don quixote in such a plight. at length the damsel with the jug returned and they made an end ofwashing don quixote, and the one who carried the towels verydeliberately wiped him and dried him; and all four together making hima profound obeisance and curtsey, they were about to go, when theduke, lest don quixote should see through the joke, called out tothe one with the basin saying, "e and wash me, and take care thatthere is water enough." the girl, sharp-witted and prompt, came andced the basin for the duke as Éä had done for don quixote, andthey soon had him well soaped and waÉäd, and having wiped him drythey made their obeisance and retired. it appeared afterwards that theduke had sworn that if they had not waÉäd him as they had don quixotehe would have puniÉäd them for their impudence, which they adroitlyatoned for by soaping him as well. sancho observed the ceremony of the washing very attentively, andsaid to himself, "god bless me, if it were only the custom in thiscountry to wash squires beards too as well as knights. for by godand upon my soul i want it badly; and if they gave me a scrape ofthe razor besides id take it as a still greater kindness." "what are you saying to yourself, sancho?" asked the duchess. "i was saying, senora," he replied, "that in the courts of otherprinces, when the cloth is taken away, i have always heard say theygive water for the hands, but not lye for the beard; and that shows itis good to live long that you may see much; to be sure, they say toothat he who lives a long life must undergo much evil, though toundergo a washing of that sort is pleasure rather than pain." "dont be uneasy, friend sancho," said the duchess; "i will takecare that my damsels wash you, and even put you in the tub ifnecessary." "ill be content with the beard," said sancho, "at any rate forthe present; and as for the future, god has decreed what is to be." "attend to worthy sanchos request, senes²ål," said the duchess,"and do exactly what he wiÉäs." the senes²ål replied that senor sancho should be obeyed ineverything; and with that he went away to dinner and took sancho alongwith him, while the duke and duchess and don quixote remained at tablediscussing a great variety of things, but all bearing on the callingof arms and knight-errantry. the duchess begged don quixote, as he seemed to have a retentivememory, to describe and portray to her the beauty and features ofthedy dulcinea del toboso, for, judging by what fame trumpetedabroad of her beauty, Éä felt sure Éä must be the fairest creaturein the world, nay, in all man²å.
µÚ149Ò³ don quixote sighed on hearing the duchesss request, and said, "if icould pluck out my heart, andy it on a te on this table herebefore your highnesss eyes, it would spare my tongue the pain oftelling what can hardly be thought of, for in it your excellence wouldsee her portrayed in full. but why should i attempt to depict anddescribe in detail, and feature by feature, the beauty of the peerlessdulcinea, the burden being one worthy of other shoulders than mine, anenterprise wherein the pencils of parrhasius, timantes, and apelles,and the graver of lysippus ought to be employed, to paint it inpictures and carve it in marble and bronze, and ciceronian anddemosthenian eloquence to sound its praises?" "what does demosthenian mean, senor don quixote?" said theduchess; "it is a word i never heard in all my life." "demosthenian eloquence," said don quixote, "means the eloquenceof demosthenes, as ciceronian means that of cicero, who were the twomost eloquent orators in the world." "true," said the duke; "you must have lost your wits to ask such aquestion. nevertheless, senor don quixote would greatly gratify usif he would depict her to us; for never fear, even in an outline orsketch Éä will be something to make the fairest envious." "i would do so certainly," said don quixote, "had Éä not beenblurred to my minds eye by the misfortune that fell upon her ashort time since, one of such a nature that i am more ready to weepover it than to describe it. for your highnesses must know that, goinga few days back to kiss her hands and receive her benediction,approbation, and permission for this third sally, i found heraltogether a different being from the one i sought; i found heren²ånted and ²ånged from a princess into a peasant, from fair tofoul, from an angel into a devil, from fragrant to pestiferous, fromrefined to clownish, from a dignifieddy into a jumping tomboy, and,in a word, from dulcinea del toboso into a coarse sayago wench." "god bless me!" said the duke aloud at this, "who can have dhe world such an injury? who can have robbed it of the beauty thatddened it, of the grace and gaiety that ²årmed it, of themodesty that Éäd a lustre upon it?" "who?" replied don quixote; "who could it be but some malignanten²ånter of the many that persecute me out of envy- that ursedrace born into the world to obscure and bring to naught theachievements of the good, and glorify and exalt the deeds of thewicked? en²ånters have persecuted me, en²ånters persecute mestill, and en²ånters will continue to persecute me until they havesunk me and my lofty chivalry in the deep abyss of oblivion; andthey injure and wound me where they know i feel it most. for todeprive a knight-errant of hisdy is to deprive him of the eyes hesees with, of the sun that gives him light, of the food whereby helives. many a time before have i said it, and i say it now oncemore, a knight-errant without ady is like a tree without leaves,a building without a foundation, or a shadow without the body thatcauses it." "there is no denying it," said the duchess; "but still, if we are tobelieve the history of don quixote that hase out heretelywith general apuse, it is to be inferred from it, if i mistake not,that you never saw thedy dulcinea, and that the saiddy isnothing in the world but an imaginarydy, one that you yourselfbegot and gave birth to in your brain, and adorned with whatever²årms and perfections you chose." "there is a good deal to be said on that point," said don quixote;"god knows whether there he any dulcinea or not in the world, orwhether Éä is imaginary or not imaginary; these are things theproof of which must not be puÉäd to extreme lengths. i have notbegotten nor given birth to mydy, though i behold her as Éäneeds must be, ady who contains in herself all the qualities tomake her famous throughout the world, beautiful without blemish,dignified without haughtiness, tender and yet modest, gracious fromcourtesy and courteous from good breeding, andstly, of exaltedlineage, because beauty shines forth and excels with a higher degreeof perfection upon good blood than in the fair of lowly birth." "that is true," said the duke; "but senor don quixote will give meleave to say what i am constrained to say by the story of his exploitsthat i have read, from which it is to be inferred that, granting thereis a dulcinea in el toboso, or out of it, and that Éä is in thehighest degree beautiful as you have described her to us, as regardsthe loftiness of her lineage Éä is not on a par with the orianas,strajareas, madasimas, or others of that sort, with whom, as youwell know, the histories abound." "to that i may reply," said don quixote, "that dulcinea is thedaughter of her own works, and that virtues rectify blood, and thatlowly virtue is more to be regarded and esteemed than exalted vice.dulcinea, besides, has that within her that may raise her to be acrowned and sceptred queen; for the merit of a fair and virtuous womanis capable of performing greater miracles; and virtually, though notformally, Éä has in herself higher fortunes." "i protest, senor don quixote," said the duchess, "that in all yousay, you go most cautiously and lead in hand, as the saying is;henceforth i will believe myself, and i will take care that everyonein my house believes, even my lord the duke if needs be, that there isa dulcinea in el toboso, and that Éä is living to-day, and that Éäis beautiful and nobly born and deserves to have such a knight assenor don quixote in her service, and that is the highest praisethat it is in my power to give her or that i can think of. but icannot help entertaining a doubt, and having a certain grudgeagainst sancho panza; the doubt is this, that the aforesaid historyderes that the said sancho panza, when he carried a letter onyour worships behalf to the saiddy dulcinea, found her sifting asack of wheat; and more by token it says it was red wheat; a thingwhich makes me doubt the loftiness of her lineage." to this don quixote made answer, "senora, your highness must knowthat everything or almost everything that happens me transcends theordinary limits of what happens to other knights-errant; whether it hethat it is directed by the inscrutable will of destiny, or by themalice of some jealous en²ånter. now it is an establiÉäd fact thatall or most famous knights-errant have some special gift, one thatof being proof against en²åntment, another that of being made of suchinvulnerable flesh that he cannot be wounded, as was the famousrnd, one of the twelve peers of france, of whom it is rtedthat he could not be wounded except in the sole of his left foot,and that it must be with the point of a stout pin and not with anyother sort of weapon whatever; and so, when bernardo del carpio slewhim at roncesvalles, finding that he could not wound him with steel,he lifted him up from the ground in his arms and strangled him,calling to mind seasonably the death which hercules inflicted onantaeus, the fierce giant that they say was the son of terra. iwould infer from what i have mentioned that perhaps i may have somegift of this kind, not that of being invulnerable, becauseexperience has many times proved to me that i am of tender flesh andnot at all imprable; nor that of being proof againsten²åntment, for i have already seen myself thrust into a cage, inwhich all the world would not have been able to confine me except byforce of en²åntments. but as i delivered myself from that one, i aminclined to believe that there is no other that can hurt me; and so,these en²ånters, seeing that they cannot exert their vile craftagainst my person, revenge themselves on what i love most, and seek torob me of life by maltreating that of dulcinea in whom i live; andtherefore i am convinced that when my squire carried my message toher, they ²ånged her into amon peasant girl, engaged in such amean upation as sifting wheat; i have already said, however, thatthat wheat was not red wheat, nor wheat at all, but grains of orientpearl. and as a proof of all this, i must tell your highnesses thating to el toboso a short time back, i was altogether unable todiscover the pce of dulcinea; and that the next day, though sancho,my squire, saw her in her own proper shape, which is the fairest inthe world, to me Éä appeared to be a coarse, ill-favoured farm-wench,and by no means a well-spoken one, Éä who is propriety itself. andso, as i am not and, so far as one can judge, cannot be en²ånted, Éäit is that is en²ånted, that is smitten, that is altered, ²ånged,and transformed; in her have my enemies revenged themselves upon me,and for her shall i live in ceaseless tears, until i see her in herpristine state. i have mentioned this lest anybody should mind whatsancho said about dulcineas winnowing or sifting; for, as they²ånged her to me, it is no wonder if they ²ånged her to him.dulcinea is illustrious and well-born, and of one of the gentlefamilies of el toboso, which are many, ancient, and good. therein,most assuredly, not small is the share of the peerless dulcinea,through whom her town will be famous and celebrated in ages toe,as troy was through helen, and spain through cava, though with abetter title and tradition. for another thing; i would have yourgraces understand that sancho panza is one of the drollest squiresthat ever served knight-errant; sometimes there is a simplicityabout him so acute that it is an amusement to try and make out whetherhe is simple or sharp; he has mischievous tricks that stamp him rogue,and blundering ways that prove him a booby; he doubts everything andbelieves everything; when i fancy he is on the point ofing downheadlong from Éäer stupidity, hees out with something shrewd thatsends him up to the skies. after all, i would not ex²ånge him foranother squire, though i were given a city to boot, and therefore i amin doubt whether it will be well to send him to the government yourhighness has bestowed upon him; though i perceive in him a certainaptitude for the work of governing, so that, with a little trimming ofhis understanding, he would manage any government as easily as theking does his taxes; and moreover, we know already ample experiencethat it does not require much cleverness or much learning to be agovernor, for there are a hundred round about us that scarcely knowhow to read, and govern like gerfalcons. the main point is that theyshould have good intentions and be desirous of doing right in allthings, for they will never be at a loss for persons to advise anddirect them in what they have to do, like those knight-governorswho, being nowyers, pronounce sentences with the aid of anassessor. my advice to him will be to take no bribe and surrender noright, and i have some other little matters in reserve, that shallbe produced in due season for sanchos benefit and the advantage ofthe ind he is to govern."
µÚ150Ò³ the duke, duchess, and don quixote had reached this point in theirconversation, when they heard voices and a great hubbub in the pce,and sancho burst abruptly into the room all glowing with anger, with astraining-cloth by way of a bib, and followed by several servants, or,more properly speaking, kitchen-boys and other underlings, one of whomcarried a small trough full of water, that from its colour andimpurity was inly dishwater. the one with the trough pursued himand followed him everywhere he went, endeavouring with the utmostpersistence to thrust it under his chin, while another kitchen-boyseemed anxious to wash his beard. "what is all this, brothers?" asked the duchess. "what is it? whatdo you want to do to this good man? do you forget he is agovernor-elect?" to which the barber kitchen-boy replied, "the gentleman will not lethimself be waÉäd as is customary, and as my lord the and the senorhis master have been." "yes, i will," said sancho, in a great rage; "but id like it tobe with cleaner towels, clearer lye, and not such dirty hands; fortheres not so much difference between me and my master that he shouldbe waÉäd with angels water and i with devils lye. the customs ofcountries and princes pces are only good so long as they give noannoyance; but the way of washing they have here is worse than doingpenance. i have a clean beard, and i dont require to be refreÉädin that fashion, and whoeveres to wash me or touch a hair of myhead, i mean to say my beard, with all due respect be it said, illgive him a punch that will leave my fist sunk in his skull; forcirimonies and soapings of this sort are more like jokes than thepolite attentions of ones host." the duchess was ready to die withughter when Éä saw sanchosrage and heard his words; but it was no pleasure to don quixote to seehim in such a sorry trim, with the dingy towel about him, and thehangers-on of the kitchen all round him; so making a low bow to theduke and duchess, as if to ask their permission to speak, he addressedthe rout in a dignified tone: "holloa, gentlemen! you let that youthalone, and go back to where you came from, or anywhere else if youlike; my squire is as clean as any other person, and those troughs areas bad as narrow thin-necked jars to him; take my advice and leave himalone, for neither he nor i understand joking." sancho took the word out of his mouth and went on, "nay, let thee and try their jokes on the country bumpkin, for its about aslikely ill stand them as that its now midnight! let them bring meab here, or what they please, and curry this beard of mine, and ifthey get anything out of it that offends against cleanliness, let themclip me to the skin." upon this, the duchess,ughing all the while, said, "sanchopanza is right, and always will be in all he says; he is clean, and,as he says himself, he does not require to be waÉäd; and if ourways do not please him, he is free to choose. besides, you promotersof cleanliness have been excessively careless and thoughtless, i dontknow if i ought not to say audacious, to bring troughs and woodenutensils and kitchen dishclouts, instead of basins and jugs of puregold and towels of hond, to such a person and such a beard; but,after all, you are ill-conditioned and ill-bred, and spiteful as youare, you cannot help showing the grudge you have against the squiresof knights-errant." the impudent servitors, and even the senes²ål who came with them,took the duchess to be speaking in earnest, so they removed thestraining-cloth from sanchos neck, and with something like shameand confusion of face went off all of them and left him; whereupon he,seeing himself safe out of that extreme danger, as it seemed to him,ran and fell on his knees before the duchess, saying, "from greadies great favours may be looked for; this which your grace has doneme today cannot be requited with less than wishing i was dubbed aknight-errant, to devote myself all the days of my life to the serviceof so exalted ady. i am abouring man, my name is sancho panza, iam married, i have children, and i am serving as a squire; if in anyone of these ways i can serve your highness, i will not he longer inobeying than your grace inmanding." "it is easy to see, sancho," replied the duchess, "that you havelearned to he polite in the school of politeness itself; i mean to sayit is easy to see that you have been nursed in the bosom of senordon quixote, who is, of course, the cream of good breeding andflower of ceremony- or cirimony, as you would say yourself. fair bethe fortunes of such a master and such a servant, the one the cynosureof knight-errantry, the other the star of squirely fidelity! rise,sancho, my friend; i will repay your courtesy by taking care that mylord the duke makes good to you the promised gift of the government assoon as possible." with this, the conversation came to an end, and don quixoteretired to take his midday sleep; but the duchess begged sancho,unless he had a very great desire to go to sleep, toe and spendthe afternoon with her and her damsels in a very cool ²åmber.sancho replied that, though he certainly had the habit of sleepingfour or five hours in the heat of the day in summer, to serve herexcellence he would try with all his might not to sleep even hat day, and that he woulde in obedience to hermand, and withthat he went off. the duke gave fresh orders with respect totreating don quixote as a knight-errant, without departing even insmallest particr from the style in which, as the stories tell us,they used to treat the knights of old.²åpter xxxiii of the delectable discourse which the duchess and her damsels heldwith sancho panza, well worth reading and noting the history records that sancho did not sleep that afternoon, but inorder to keep his word came, before he had well done dinner, tovisit the duchess, who, finding enjoyment in listening to him, madehim sit down beside her on a low seat, though sancho, out of pure goodbreeding, wanted not to sit down; the duchess, however, told him hewas to sit down as governor and talk as squire, as in both respects hewas worthy of even the ²åir of the cid ruy diaz the campeador. sanchoshrugged his shoulders, obeyed, and sat down, and all the duchesssdamsels and duennas gathered round him, waiting in profound silence tohear what he would say. it was the duchess, however, who spokefirst, saying: "now that we are alone, and that there is nobody here to overhearus, i should be d if the senor governor would relieve me of certaindoubts i have, rising out of the history of the great don quixote thatis now in print. one is: inasmuch as worthy sancho never saw dulcinea,i mean thedy dulcinea del toboso, nor took don quixotes letterto her, for it was left in the memorandum book in the sierra morena,how did he dare to invent the answer and all that about finding hersifting wheat, the whole story being a deception and falsehood, and somuch to the prejudice of the peerless dulcineas good name, a thingthat is not at all bing the ²åracter and fidelity of a goodsquire?" at these words, sancho, without uttering one in reply, got up fromhis ²åir, and with noiseless steps, with his body bent and his fingeron his lips, went all round the room lifting up the hangings; and thisdone, he came back to his seat and said, "now, senora, that i haveseen that there is no one except the bystanders listening to us on thesly, i will answer what you have asked me, and all you may ask me,without fear or dread. and the first thing i have got to say is,that for my own part i hold my master don quixote to be stark mad,though sometimes he says things that, to my mind, and indeedeverybodys that listens to him, are so wise, and run in such astraight furrow, that satan himself could not have said them better;but for all that, really, and beyond all question, its my firm beliefhe is cracked. well, then, as this is clear to my mind, i canventure to make him believe things that have neither head nor tail,like that affair of the answer to the letter, and that other of six oreight days ago, which is not yet in history, that is to say, theaffair of the en²åntment of mydy dulcinea; for i made himbelieve Éä is en²ånted, though theres no more truth in it than overthe hills of ubeda. the duchess begged him to tell her about the en²åntment ordeception, so sancho told the whole story exactly as it hadhappened, and his hearers were not a little amused by it; and thenresuming, the duchess said, "in consequence of what worthy sanchohas told me, a doubt starts up in my mind, and therees a kind ofwhisper to my ear that says, if don quixote be mad, crazy, andcracked, and sancho panza his squire knows it, and, notwithstanding,serves and follows him, and goes trusting to his empty promises, therecan be no doubt he must be still madder and sillier than his master;and that being so, it will be cast in your teeth, senora duchess, ifyou give the said sancho an ind to govern; for how will he who doesnot know how to govern himself know how to govern others?" "by god, senora," said sancho, "but that doubtes timely; butyour grace may say it out, and speak inly, or as you like; for iknow what you say is true, and if i were wise i should have left mymaster long ago; but this was my fate, this was my bad luck; i canthelp it, i must follow him; were from the same vige, ive eatenhis bread, im fond of him, im grateful, he gave me his ass-colts,and above all im faithful; so its quite impossible for anything toseparate us, except the pickaxe and shovel. and if your highnessdoes not like to give me the government you promised, god made mewithout it, and maybe your not giving it to me will be all thebetter for my conscience, for fool as i am i know the proverb toher hurt the ant got wings, and it may be that sancho the squire willget to heaven sooner than sancho the governor. they make as goodbread here as in france, and by night all cats are grey, and ahard case enough his, who hasnt broken his fast at two in theafternoon, and theres no stomach a hands breadth bigger thananother, and the same can he filled with straw or hay, as thesaying is, and the little birds of the field have god for theirpurveyor and caterer, and four yards of cuenca frieze keep onewarmer than four of segovia broad-cloth, and when we quit this worldand are put underground the prince travels by as narrow a path asthe journeyman, and the popes body does not take up more feet ofearth than the sacristans, for all that the one is higher than theother; for when we go to our graves we all pack ourselves up andmake ourselves small, or rather they pack us up and make us small inspite of us, and then- good night to us. and i say once more, ifyourdyship does not like to give me the ind because im afool, like a wise man i will take care to give myself no trouble aboutit; i have heard say that behind the cross theres the devil, andthat all that glitters is not gold, and that from among the oxen,and the ploughs, and the yokes, wamba the husbandman was taken to bemade king of spain, and from among brocades, and pleasures, andriches, roderick was taken to be devoured by adders, if the versesof the old bads dont lie."
µÚ151Ò³ "to be sure they dont lie!" eximed dona rodriguez, the duenna,who was one of the listeners. "why, theres a bad that says theyput king rodrigo alive into a tomb full of toads, and adders, andlizards, and that two days afterwards the king, in a intive, feeblevoice, cried out from within the tomb- they gnaw me now, they gnaw me now, there where i most did sin.and ording to that the gentleman has good reason to say he wouldrather be abouring man than a king, if vermin are to eat him." the duchess could not helpughing at the simplicity of her duenna,or wondering at thenguage and proverbs of sancho, to whom Éä said,"worthy sancho knows very well that when once a knight has made apromise he strives to keep it, though it should cost him his life.my lord and husband the duke, though not one of the errant sort, isnone the less a knight for that reason, and will keep his word aboutthe promised ind, in spite of the envy and malice of the world. letsancho he of good cheer; for when he least expects it he will findhimself seated on the throne of his ind and seat of dignity, andwill take possession of his government that he may discard it foranother of three-bordered brocade. the ²årge i give him is to becareful how he governs his vassals, bearing in mind that they areall loyal and well-born." "as to governing them well," said sancho, "theres no need of²årging me to do that, for im kind-hearted by nature, and full opassion for the poor; theres no stealing the loaf from him whokneads and bakes; and by my faith it wont do to throw false dicewith me; i am an old dog, and i know all about tus, tus; i can bewide-awake if need be, and i dont let cloudse before my eyes, fori know where the shoe pinches me; i say so, because with me the goodwill have support and protection, and the bad neither footing noress. and it seems to me that, in governments, to make a beginningis everything; and maybe, after having been governor a fortnight, illtake kindly to the work and know more about it than the fieldbour ihave been brought up to." "you are right, sancho," said the duchess, "for no one is born readytaught, and the bishops are made out of men and not out of stones. butto return to the subject we were discussing just now, theen²åntment of thedy dulcinea, i look upon it as certain, andsomething more than evident, that sanchos idea of practising adeception upon his master, making him believe that the peasant girlwas dulcinea and that if he did not recognise her it must be becauseÉä was en²ånted, was all a device of one of the en²ånters thatpersecute don quixote. for in truth and earnest, i know from goodauthority that the coarse country wench who jumped up on the ass wasand is dulcinea del toboso, and that worthy sancho, though hefancies himself the deceiver, is the one that is deceived; and thatthere is no more reason to doubt the truth of this, than of anythingelse we never saw. senor sancho panza must know that we too haveen²ånters here that are well disposed to us, and tell us what goes onin the world, inly and distinctly, without subterfuge or deception;and believe me, sancho, that agile countryss was and is dulcineadel toboso, who is as much en²ånted as the mother that bore her;and when we least expect it, we shall see her in her own properform, and then sancho will he disabused of the error he is under atpresent." "all thats very possible," said sancho panza; "and now imwilling to believe what my master says about what he saw in the caveof montesinos, where he says he saw thedy dulcinea del toboso inthe very same dress and apparel that i said i had seen her in when ien²ånted her all to please myself. it must be all exactly the otherway, as yourdyship says; because it is impossible to suppose thatout of my poor wit such a cunning trick could be concocted in amoment, nor do i think my master is so mad that by my weak andfeeble persuasion he could be made to believe a thing so out of allreason. but, senora, your excellence must not therefore think meill-disposed, for a dolt like me is not bound to see into the thoughtsand plots of those vile en²ånters. i invented all that to escape mymasters scolding, and not with any intention of hurting him; and ifit has turned out differently, there is a god in heaven who judges ourhearts." "that is true," said the duchess; "but tell me, sancho, what is thisyou say about the cave of montesinos, for i should like to know." sancho upon this rted to her, word for word, what has been saidalready touching that adventure, and having heard it the duchess said,"from this urrence it may be inferred that, as the great donquixote says he saw there the same country wench sancho saw on the wayfrom el toboso, it is, no doubt, dulcinea, and that there are somevery active and exceedingly busy en²ånters about." "so i say," said sancho, "and if mydy dulcinea is en²ånted, somuch the worse for her, and im not going to pick a quarrel with mymasters enemies, who seem to be many and spiteful. the truth isthat the one i saw was a country wench, and i set her down to be acountry wench; and if that was dulcinea it must not beid at mydoor, nor should i be called to answer for it or take theconsequences. but they must go nagging at me at every step- sanchosaid it, sancho did it, sancho here, sancho there, as if sancho wasnobody at all, and not that same sancho panza thats now going allover the world in books, so samson carrasco told me, and hes at anyrate one thats a bachelor of smanca; and people of that sort cantlie, except when the whim seizes them or they have some very goodreason for it. so theres no asion for anybody to quarrel withme; and then i have a good ²åracter, and, as i have heard my mastersay, a good name is better than great riches; let them only stick meinto this government and theyll see wonders, for one who has been agood squire will be a good governor." "all worthy sanchos observations," said the duchess, "arecatonian sentences, or at any rate out of the very heart of mi²åelverino himself, who florentibus idit annis. in fact, to speak inhis own style, under a bad cloak theres often a good drinker." "indeed, senora," said sancho, "i never yet drank out of wickedness;from thirst i have very likely, for i have nothing of the hypocrite inme; i drink when im inclined, or, if im not inclined, when theyoffer it to me, so as not to look either straitced or ill-bred; forwhen a friend drinks ones health what heart can be so hard as notto return it? but if i put on my shoes i dont dirty them; besides,squires to knights-errant mostly drink water, for they are alwayswandering among woods, forests and meadows, mountains and crags,without a drop of wine to be had if they gave their eyes for it." "so i believe," said the duchess; "and now let sancho go and takehis sleep, and we will talk by-and-by at greater length, and settlehow he may soon go and stick himself into the government, as he says." sancho once more kissed the duchesss hand, and entreated her to letgood care be taken of his dapple, for he was the light of his eyes. "what is dapple?" said the duchess. "my ass," said sancho, "which, not to mention him by that name,im ustomed to call dapple; i begged thisdy duenna here totake care of him when i came into the castle, and Éä got as angryas if i had said Éä was ugly or old, though it ought to be morenatural and proper for duennas to feed asses than to ornament²åmbers. god bless me! what a spite a gentleman of my vige hadagainst thesedies!" "he must have been some clown," said dona rodriguez the duenna; "forif he had been a gentleman and well-born he would have exalted themhigher than the horns of the moon." "that will do," said the duchess; "no more of this; hush, donarodriguez, and let senor panza rest easy and leave the treatment ofdapple in my ²årge, for as he is a treasure of sanchos, ill put himon the apple of my eye." "it will be enough for him to he in the stable," said sancho, "forneither he nor i are worthy to rest a moment in the apple of yourhighnesss eye, and id as soon stab myself as consent to it; forthough my master says that in civilities it is better to lose by acard too many than a card too few, when ites to civilities toasses we must mind what we are about and keep within due bounds." "take him to your government, sancho," said the duchess, "andthere you will be able to make as much of him as you like, and evenrelease him from work and pension him off." "dont think, senora duchess, that you have said anything absurd,"said sancho; "i have seen more than two asses go to governments, andfor me to take mine with me would he nothing new." sanchos words made the duchessugh again and gave her freshamusement, and dismissing him to sleep Éä went away to tell theduke the conversation Éä had had with him, and between them theyplotted and arranged to y a joke upon don quixote that was to bea rare one and entirely in knight-errantry style, and in that samestyle they practised several upon him, so much in keeping and soclever that they form the best adventures this great history contains. ²åpter xxxiv which rtes how they learned the way in which they were todisen²ånt the peerless dulcinea del toboso, which is one of therarest adventures in this book
µÚ152Ò³ great was the pleasure the duke and duchess took in the conversationof don quixote and sancho panza; and, more bent than ever upon then they had of practising some jokes upon them that should havethe look and appearance of adventures, they took as their basis ofaction what don quixote had already told them about the cave ofmontesinos, in order to y him a famous one. but what the duchesmarvelled at above all was that sanchos simplicity could be sogreat as to make him believe as absolute truth that dulcinea hadbeen en²ånted, when it was he himself who had been the en²ånterand trickster in the business. having, therefore, instructed theirservants in everything they were to do, six days afterwards theytook him out to hunt, with as great a retinue of huntsmen andbeaters as a crowned king. they presented don quixote with a hunting suit, and sancho withanother of the finest green cloth; but don quixote declined to put hison, saying that he must soon return to the hard pursuit of arms, andcould not carry wardrobes or stores with him. sancho, however, tookwhat they gave him, meaning to sell it the first opportunity. the appointed day having arrived, don quixote armed himself, andsancho arrayed himself, and mounted on his dapple £¨for he would notgive him up though they offered him a horse£©£¬ he ced himself in themidst of the troop of huntsmen. the duchess came out splendidlyattired, and don quixote, in pure courtesy and politeness, held therein of her palfrey, though the duke wanted not to allow him; and ast they reached a wood thaty between two high mountains, where,after upying various posts, ambuÉäs, and paths, and distributingthe party in different positions, the hunt began with great noise,shouting, and hallooing, so that, between the baying of the hounds andthe blowing of the horns, they could not hear one another. the duchessdismounted, and with a sharp boar-spear in her hand posted herselfwhere Éä knew the wild boars were in the habit of passing. the dukeand don quixote likewise dismounted and ced themselves one ateach side of her. sancho took up a position in the rear of all withoutdismounting from dapple, whom he dared not desert lest some mischiefshould befall him. scarcely had they taken their stand in a linewith several of their servants, when they saw a huge boar, closelypressed by the hounds and followed by the huntsmen, making towardsthem, grinding his teeth and tusks, and scattering foam from hismouth. as soon as he saw him don quixote, bracing his shield on hisarm, and drawing his sword, advanced to meet him; the duke withboar-spear did the same; but the duchess would have gone in front ofthem all had not the duke prevented her. sancho alone, desertingdapple at the sight of the mighty beast, took to his heels as hardas he could and strove in vain to mount a tall oak. as he was clingingto a branch, however, half-way up in his struggle to reach the top,the bough, such was his ill-luck and hard fate, gave way, and caughtin his fall by a broken limb of the oak, he hung suspended in theair unable to reach the ground. finding himself in this position,and that the green coat was beginning to tear, and reflecting thatif the fierce animal came that way he might be able to get at him,he began to utter such cries, and call for help so earnestly, that allwho heard him and did not see him felt sure he must be in the teeth ofsome wild beast. in the end the tusked boar fell pierced by the desof the many spears they held in front of him; and don quixote, turninground at the cries of sancho, for he knew by them that it was he,saw him hanging from the oak head downwards, with dapple, who didnot forsake him in his distress, close beside him; and cide hameteobserves that he seldom saw sancho panza without seeing dapple, ordapple without seeing sancho panza; such was their attachment andloyalty one to the other. don quixote went over and unhooked sancho,who, as soon as he found himself on the ground, looked at the rentin his huntingcoat and was grieved to the heart, for he thought he hadgot a patrimonial estate in that suit. meanwhile they had slung the mighty boar across the back of amule, and having covered it with sprigs of rosemary and branches ofmyrtle, they bore it away as the spoils of victory to somergefield-tents which had been pitched in the middle of the wood, wherethey found the tablesid and dinner served, in such grand andsumptuous style that it was easy to see the rank and magnificence ofthose who had provided it. sancho, as he showed the rents in historn suit to the duchess, observed, "if we had been hunting hares,or after small birds, my coat would have been safe from being in theplight its in; i dont know what pleasure one can find in lying inwait for an animal that may take your life with his tusk if he gets atyou. i recollect having heard an old bad sung that says, by bears be thou devoured, as erst was famous fav." "that," said don quixote, "was a gothic king, who, goinga-hunting, was devoured by a bear." "just so," said sancho; "and i would not have kings and princesexpose themselves to such dangers for the sake of a pleasure which, tomy mind, ought not to be one, as it consists in killing an animal thathas done no harm whatever." "quite the contrary, sancho; you are wrong there," said the duke;"for hunting is more suitable and requisite for kings and princes thanfor anybody else. the ²åse is the emblem of war; it has stratagems,wiles, and crafty devices for oveing the enemy in safety; in itextreme cold and intolerable heat have to be borne, indolence andsleep are despised, the bodily powers are invigorated, the limbs ofhim who engages in it are made supple, and, in a word, it is a pursuitwhich may be followed without injury to anyone and with enjoyment tomany; and the best of it is, it is not for everybody, asfield-sports of other sorts are, except hawking, which also is onlyfor kings and great lords. reconsider your opinion therefore,sancho, and when you are governor take to hunting, and you will findthe good of it." "nay," said sancho, "the good governor should have a broken legand keep at home;" it would be a nice thing if, after people hadbeen at the trouble ofing to look for him on business, thegovernor were to be away in the forest enjoying himself; thegovernment would go on badly in that fashion. by my faith, senor,hunting and amusements are more fit for idlers than for governors;what i intend to amuse myself with is ying all fours at eastertime,and bowls on sundays and holidays; for these huntings dont suit mycondition or agree with my conscience." "god grant it may turn out so," said the duke; "because its along step from saying to doing." "be that as it may," said sancho, "pledges dont distress a goodpayer, and he whom god helps does better than he who gets up early,and its the tripes that carry the feet and not the feet the tripes;i mean to say that if god gives me help and i do my duty honestly,no doubt ill govern better than a gerfalcon. nay, let them only put afinger in my mouth, and theyll see whether i can bite or not." "the curse of god and all his saints upon thee, thou ursedsancho!" eximed don quixote; "when will the daye- as i haveoften said to thee- when i shall hear thee make one single coherent,rational remark without proverbs? pray, your highnesses, leave thisfool alone, for he will grind your souls between, not to say two,but two thousand proverbs, dragged in as much in season, and as muchto the purpose as- may god grant as much health to him, or to me ifi want to listen to them!" "sancho panzas proverbs," said the duchess, "though more innumber than the greekmanders, are not therefore less to beesteemed for the conciseness of the maxims. for my own part, i can saythey give me more pleasure than others that may be better brought inand more seasonably introduced." in pleasant conversation of this sort they passed out of the tentinto the wood, and the day was spent in visiting some of the posts andhiding-ces, and then night closed in, not, however, asbrilliantly or tranquilly as might have been expected at the season,for it was then midsummer; but bringing with it a kind of haze thatgreatly aided the project of the duke and duchess; and thus, asnight began to fall, and a little after twilight set in, suddenlythe whole wood on all four sides seemed to be on fire, and shortlyafter, here, there, on all sides, a vast number of trumpets andother military instruments were heard, as if several troops of cavalrywere passing through the wood. the ze of the fire and the noiseof the warlike instruments almost blinded the eyes and deafened theears of those that stood by, and indeed of all who were in the wood.then there were heard repeated lelilies after the fashion of the moorswhen they rush to battle; trumpets and rions brayed, drums beat,fifes yed, so unceasingly and so fast that he could not have hadany senses who did not lose them with the confused din of so manyinstruments. the duke was astounded, the duchess amazed, don quixotewondering, sancho panza trembling, and indeed, even they who wereaware of the cause were frightened. in their fear, silence fell uponthem, and a postillion, in the guise of a demon, passed in front ofthem, blowing, in lieu of a bugle, a huge hollow horn that gave outa horrible hoarse note. "ho there! brother courier," cried the duke, "who are you? where areyou going? what troops are these that seem to be passing through thewood?"
µÚ153Ò³ to which the courier replied in a harsh, discordant voice, "i am thedevil; i am in search of don quixote of man²å; those who aring this way are six troops of en²ånters, who are bringing on atriumphal car the peerless dulcinea del toboso; Éäes underen²åntment, together with the gant frenchman montesinos, to giveinstructions to don quixote as to how, Éä the saiddy, may bedisen²ånted." "if you were the devil, as you say and as your appearanceindicates," said the duke, "you would have known the said knight donquixote of man²å, for you have him here before you." "by god and upon my conscience," said the devil, "i never observedit, for my mind is upied with so many different things that i wasforgetting the main thing i came about." "this demon must be an honest fellow and a good christian," saidsancho; "for if he wasnt he wouldnt swear by god and his conscience;i feel sure now there must be good souls even in hell itself." without dismounting, the demon then turned to don quixote andsaid, "the unfortunate but valiant knight montesinos sends me to thee,the knight of the lions £¨would that i saw thee in their ws£©£¬bidding me tell thee to wait for him wherever i may find thee, as hebrings with him her whom they call dulcinea del toboso, that he mayshow thee what is needful in order to disen²ånt her; and as i camefor no more i need stay no longer; demons of my sort be with thee, andgood angels with these gentles;" and so saying he blew his hugehorn, turned about and went off without waiting for a reply fromanyone. they all felt fresh wonder, but particrly sancho and don quixote;sancho to see how, in defiance of the truth, they would have it thatdulcinea was en²ånted; don quixote because he could not feel surewhether what had happened to him in the cave of montesinos was true ornot; and as he was deep in these cogitations the duke said to him, "doyou mean to wait, senor don quixote?" "why not?" replied he; "here will i wait, fearless and firm,though all hell shoulde to attack me." "well then, if i see another devil or hear another horn like thst, ill wait here as much as in nders," said sancho. night now closed in morepletely, and many lights began to flitthrough the wood, just as those fiery exhtions from the earth, thatlook like shooting-stars to our eyes, flit through the heavens; afrightful noise, too, was heard, like that made by the solid wheelsthe ox-carts usually have, by the harsh, ceaseless creaking ofwhich, they say, the bears and wolves are put to flight, if therehappen to be any where they are passing. in addition to all thimotion, there came a further disturbance to increase the tumult,for now it seemed as if in truth, on all four sides of the wood,four encounters or battles were going on at the same time; in onequarter resounded the dull noise of a terrible cannonade, in anothernumberless muskets were being dis²årged, the shouts of thebatantssounded almost close at hand, and farther away the moorish lelilieswere raised again and again. in a word, the bugles, the horns, therions, the trumpets, the drums, the cannon, the musketry, and aboveall the tremendous noise of the carts, all made up together a din soconfused and terrific that don quixote had need to summon up all hiscourage to brave it; but sanchos gave way, and he fell fainting onthe skirt of the duchesss robe, who let him lie there and promptlybade them throw water in his face. this was done, and he came tohimself by the time that one of the carts with the creaking wheelsreached the spot. it was drawn by four plodding oxen all coveredwith ck housings; on each horn they had fixed arge lighted waxtaper, and on the top of the cart was constructed a raised seat, onwhich sat a venerable old man with a beard whiter than the verysnow, and so long that it fell below his waist; he was dressed in along robe of ck buckram; for as the cart was thickly set with amultitude of candles it was easy to make out everything that was onit. leading it were two hideous demons, also d in buckram, withcountenances so frightful that sancho, having once seen them, shut hiseyes so as not to see them again. as soon as the cart came oppositethe spot the old man rose from his lofty seat, and standing up said ina loud voice, "i am the sage lirgandeo," and without another wordthe cart then passed on. behind it came another of the same form, withanother aged man enthroned, who, stopping the cart, said in a voice noless solemn than that of the first, "i am the sage alquife, thegreat friend of urganda the unknown," and passed on. then another cartcame by at the same pace, but the upant of the throne was not oldlike the others, but a man stalwart and robust, and of a forbiddingcountenance, who as he came up said in a voice far hoarser and moredevilish, "i am the en²ånter archus, the mortal enemy of amadis ofgaul and all his kindred," and then passed on. having gone a shortdistance the three carts halted and the monotonous noise of theirwheels ceased, and soon after they heard another, not noise, but soundof sweet, harmonious music, of which sancho was very d, taking itto be a good sign; and said he to the duchess, from whom he did notstir a step, or for a single instant, "senora, where theres musicthere cant be mischief." "nor where there are lights and it is bright," said the duchess;to which sancho replied, "fire gives light, and its bright wherethere are bonfires, as we see by those that are all round us andperhaps may burn us; but music is a sign of mirth and merrymaking." "that remains to be seen," said don quixote, who was listening toall that passed; and he was right, as is shown in the following²åpter. ²åpter xxxv wherein is continued the instruction given to don quixote touchingthe disen²åntment of dulcinea, together with other marvellousincidents they saw advancing towards them, to the sound of this pleasingmusic, what they call a triumphal car, drawn by six grey mules withwhite linen housings, on each of which was mounted a penitent, robedalso in white, with arge lighted wax taper in his hand. the car wastwice or, perhaps, three times asrge as the former ones, and infront and on the sides stood twelve more penitents, all as white assnow and all with lighted tapers, a spectacle to excite fear as wes wonder; and on a raised throne was seated a nymph draped in amultitude of silver-tissue veils with an embroidery of countlessgold spangles glittering all over them, that made her appear, if notrichly, at least brilliantly, apparelled. Éä had her face coveredwith thin transparent sendal, the texture of which did not prevent thefair features of a maiden from being distinguiÉäd, while the numerouslights made it possible to judge of her beauty and of her years, whichseemed to be not less than seventeen but not to have yet reachedtwenty. beside her was a figure in a robe of state, as they call it,reaching to the feet, while the head was covered with a ck veil.but the instant the car was opposite the duke and duchess and donquixote the music of the rions ceased, and then that of the lutesand harps on the car, and the figure in the robe rose up, and flingingit apart and removing the veil from its face, disclosed to theireyes the shape of death itself, fleshless and hideous, at whichsight don quixote felt uneasy, sancho frightened, and the duke andduchess disyed a certain trepidation. having risen to its feet,this living death, in a sleepy voice and with a tongue hardly awake,held forth as follows: i am that merlin who the legends say the devil had for father, and the lie hath gathered credence with thepse of time. of magic prince, of zoroastric lore monarch and treasurer, with jealous eye i view the efforts of the age to hide the gant deeds of doughty errant knights, who are, and ever have been, dear to me. en²ånters and magicians and their kind are mostly hard of heart; not so am i; for mine is tender, soft,passionate, and its delight is doing good to all. in the dim caverns of the gloomy dis, where, tracing mystic lines and ²åracters, my soul abideth now, there came to me the sorrowden int of her, the fair, the peerless dulcinea del toboso. i knew of her en²åntment and her fate, from high-born dame to peasant wench transformed and touched with pity, first i turned the leaves of countless volumes of my devilish craft, and then, in this grim grisly skeleton myself encasing, hither have ie to show where lies the fitting remedy to give relief in such a piteous case. o thou, the pride and pink of all that wear the adamantine steel! o shining light, o beacon, polestar, path and guide of all who, scorning slumber and thezy down, adopt the toilsome life of bloodstained arms! to thee, great hero who all praise transcends, la man²ås lustre and iberias star, don quixote, wise as brave, to thee i say- for peerless dulcinea del toboso her pristine form and beauty to regain, t is needful that thy esquire sancho shall, on his own sturdy buttocks bared to heaven,
µÚ154Ò³ three thousand and three hundredÉäsy, and that they smart and sting and hurt him well. thus have the authors of her woe resolved. and this is, gentles, wherefore i havee. "by all thats good," eximed sancho at this, "ill just as soongive myself three stabs with a dagger as three, not to say threethousand,Éäs. the devil take such a way of disen²ånting! idont see what my backside has got to do with en²åntments. by god, ifsenor merlin has not found out some other way of disen²ånting thdy dulcinea del toboso, Éä may go to her grave en²ånted." "but ill take you, don clown stuffed with garlic," said donquixote, "and tie you to a tree as naked as when your mother broughtyou forth, and give you, not to say three thousand three hundred,but six thousand six hundredÉäs, and so wellid on that theywont be got rid of if you try three thousand three hundred times;dont answer me a word or ill tear your soul out." on hearing this merlin said, "that will not do, for theÉäsworthy sancho has to receive must be given of his own free will andnot by force, and at whatever time he pleases, for there is no fixedlimit assigned to him; but it is permitted him, if he likes tomuteby half the pain of this whipping, to let them be given by the hand ofanother, though it may be somewhat weighty." "not a hand, my own or anybody elses, weighty or weighable, shalltouch me," said sancho. "was it i that gave birth to thedy dulcineadel toboso, that my backside is to pay for the sins of her eyes? mymaster, indeed, thats a part of her- for,hes always calling hermy life and my soul, and his stay and prop- may and ought towhip himself for her and take all the trouble required for herdisen²åntment. but for me to whip myself! abernuncio!" as soon as sancho had done speaking the nymph in silver that wasat the side of merlins ghost stood up, and removing the thin veilfrom her face disclosed one that seemed to all something more thanexceedingly beautiful; and with a masculine freedom from embarrassmentand in a voice not very like adys, addressing sancho directly,said, "thou wretched squire, soul of a pitcher, heart of a corktree, with bowels of flint and pebbles; if, thou impudent thief,they bade thee throw thyself down from some lofty tower; if, enemyof mankind, they asked thee to swallow a dozen of toads, two oflizards, and three of adders; if they wanted thee to y thy wife andchildren with a sharp murderous scimitar, it would be no wonder forthee to show thyself stubborn and squeamish. but to make a piece ofwork about three thousand three hundredÉäs, what every poor little²årity-boy gets every month- it is enough to amaze, astonish, astoundthepassionate bowels of all who hear it, nay, all whoe to hearit in the course of time. turn, o miserable, hard-hearted animal,turn, i say, those timorous owls eyes upon these of mine that arpared to radiant stars, and thou wilt see them weeping tricklingstreams and rills, and tracing furrows, tracks, and paths over thefair fields of my cheeks. let it move thee, crafty, ill-conditionedmonster, to see my blooming youth- still in its teens, for i am notyet twenty- wasting and withering away beneath the husk of a rudepeasant wench; and if i do not appear in that shape now, it is aspecial favour senor merlin here has granted me, to the sole endthat my beauty may soften thee; for the tears of beauty in distressturn rocks into cotton and tigers into ewes.y on to that hide ofthine, thou great untamed brute, rouse up thy lusty vigour that onlyurges thee to eat and eat, and set free the softness of my flesh,the gentleness of my nature, and the fairness of my face. and ifthou wilt not relent ore to reason for me, do so for the sake ofthat poor knight thou hast beside thee; thy master i mean, whosesoul i can this moment see, how he has it stuck in his throat notten fingers from his lips, and only waiting for thy inflexible oryielding reply to make its escape by his mouth or go back again intohis stomach." don quixote on hearing this felt his throat, and turning to the dukehe said, "by god, senor, dulcinea says true, i have my soul stuck herein my throat like the nut of a crossbow." "what say you to this, sancho?" said the duchess. "i say, senora," returned sancho, "what i said before; as for thÉäs, abernuncio!" "abrenuncio, you should say, sancho, and not as you do," said theduke. "let me alone, your highness," said sancho. "im not in a humour nowto look into niceties or a letter more or less, for theseÉästhat are to be given me, or im to give myself, have so upset me, thati dont know what im saying or doing. but id like to know of thidy, mydy dulcinea del toboso, where Éä learned this way Éähas of asking favours. Éäes to ask me to score my flesh witÉäs, and Éä calls me soul of a pitcher, and great untamed brute,and a string of foul names that the devil is wee to. is my fleshbrass? or is it anything to me whether Éä is en²ånted or not? doesÉä bring with her a basket of fair linen, shirts, kerchiefs, socks-not that wear any- to coax me? no, nothing but one piece of abuseafter another, though Éä knows the proverb they have here that anass loaded with gold goes lightly up a mountain, and that giftsbreak rocks, and praying to god and plying the hammer, and thatone "take" is better than two "ill give thees." then theres mymaster, who ought to stroke me down and pet me to make me turn wond carded cotton; he says if he gets hold of me hell tie me naked toa tree and double the tale ofÉäs on me. these tender-heartedgentry should consider that its not merely a squire, but a governorthey are asking to whip himself; just as if it was drink withcherries. let them learn, gue take them, the right way to ask, andbeg, and behave themselves; for all times are not alike, nor arepeople always in good humour. im now ready to burst with grief atseeing my green coat torn, and theye to ask me to whip myself ofmy own free will, i having as little fancy for it as for turningcacique." "well then, the fact is, friend sancho," said the duke, "that unlessyou be softer than a ripe fig, you shall not get hold of thegovernment. it would be a nice thing for me to send my inders acruel governor with flinty bowels, who wont yield to the tears ofafflicted damsels or to the prayers of wise, magisterial, ancienten²ånters and sages. in short, sancho, either you must be whippedby yourself, or they must whip you, or you shant be governor." "senor," said sancho, "wont two days grace be given me in which toconsider what is best for me?" "no, certainly not," said merlin; "here, this minute, and on thespot, the matter must be settled; either dulcinea will return to thecave of montesinos and to her former condition of peasant wench, orelse in her present form shall be carried to the elysian fields, whereÉä will remain waiting until the number of stripes ispleted." "now then, sancho!" said the duchess, "show courage, and gratitudefor your master don quixotes bread that you have eaten; we are allbound to oblige and please him for his benevolent disposition andlofty chivalry. consent to this whipping, my son; to the devil withthe devil, and leave fear to milksops, for a stout heart breaks badluck, as you very well know." to this sancho replied with an irrelevant remark, which,addressing merlin, he made to him, "will your worship tell me, senormerlin- when that courier devil came up he gave my master a messagefrom senor montesinos, ²årging him to wait for him here, as he waing to arrange how thedy dona dulcinea del toboso was to bedisen²ånted; but up to the present we have not seen montesinos, noranything like him." to which merlin made answer, "the devil, sancho, is a blockheadand a great scoundrel; i sent him to look for your master, but notwith a message from montesinos but from myself; for montesinos is inhis cave expecting, or more properly speaking, waiting for hisdisen²åntment; for theres the tail to be skinned yet for him; ifhe owes you anything, or you have any business to transact with him,ill bring him to you and put him where you choose; but for thepresent make up your mind to consent to this penance, and believe meit will be very good for you, for soul as well for body- for your soulbecause of the ²årity with which you perform it, for your bodybecause i know that you are of a sanguine habit and it will do youno harm to draw a little blood." "there are a great many doctors in the world; even the en²åntersare doctors," said sancho; "however, as everybody tells me the samething -though i cant see it myself- i say i am willing to give myselfthe three thousand three hundredÉäs, provided i am toy themon whenever i like, without any fiÐÔ of days or times; and illtry and get out of debt as quickly as i can, that the world mayenjoy the beauty of thedy dulcinea del toboso; as it seems,contrary to what i thought, that Éä is beautiful after all. it mustbe a condition, too, that i am not to be bound to draw blood withthe scourge, and that if any of theÉäs happen to he fly-ppersthey are to count. item, that, in case i should make any mistake inthe reckoning, senor merlin, as he knows everything, is to keep count,and let me know how many are still wanting or over the number."
µÚ155Ò³ "there will be no need to let you know of any over," said merlin,"because, when you reach the full number, thedy dulcinea will atonce, and that very instant, be disen²ånted, and wille in hergratitude to seek out the worthy sancho, and thank him, and evenreward him for the good work. so you have no cause to be uneasyabout stripes too many or too few; heaven forbid i should cheat anyoneof even a hair of his head." "well then, in gods hands be it," said sancho; "in the hard caseim in i give in; i say i ept the penance on the conditionsiddown." the instant sancho uttered thesest words the music of therions struck up once more, and again a host of muskets weredis²årged, and don quixote hung on sanchos neck kissing him againand again on the forehead and cheeks. the duchess and the dukeexpressed the greatest satisfaction, the car began to move on, andas it passed the fair dulcinea bowed to the duke and duchess andmade a low curtsey to sancho. and now bright smiling dawn came on apace; the flowers of the field,revived, raised up their heads, and the crystal waters of thebrooks, murmuring over the grey and white pebbles, hastened to paytheir tribute to the expectant rivers; the d earth, the uncloudedsky, the fresh breeze, the clear light, each and all showed that theday that came treading on the skirts of morning would be calm andbright. the duke and duchess, pleased with their hunt and at havingcarried out their ns so cleverly and sessfully, returned totheir castle resolved to follow up their joke; for to them there wasno reality that could afford them more amusement.²åpter xxxvi wherein is rted the strange and undreamt-of adventure of thedistressed duenna, alias the countess trifaldi, together with a letterwhich 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 yed the part of merlin, made all thearrangements for thete adventure,posed the verses, and got apage to represent dulcinea; and now, with the assistance of his masterand mistress, he got up another of the drollest and strangestcontrivances that can be imagined. the duchess asked sancho the next day if he had made a beginningwith his penance task which he had to perform for the disen²åntmentof dulcinea. he said he had, and had given himself fiveÉäsovernight. the duchess asked him what he had given them with. he said with his hand. "that," said the duchess, "is more like giving oneself ps thaÉäs; i am sure the sage merlin will not be satisfied with suchtenderness; worthy sancho must make a scourge with ws, or acat-o-nine tails, that will make itself felt; for its with bloodthat letters enter, and the release of so great ady as dulcineawill not be granted so cheaply, or at such a paltry price; andremember, sancho, that works of ²årity done in a lukewarm andhalf-hearted way are without merit and of no avail." to which sancho replied, "if yourdyship will give me a properscourge or cord, illy on with it, provided it does not hurt toomuch; for you must know, boor as i am, my flesh is more cotton thanhemp, and it wont do for me to destroy myself for the good of anybodyelse." "so be it by all means," said the duchess; "tomorrow ill give you ascourge that will be just the thing for you, and will amodateitself to the tenderness of your flesh, as if it was its own sister." then said sancho, "your highness must know, deardy of my soul,that i have a letter written to my wife, teresa panza, giving her anount of all that has happened me since i left her; i have it herein my bosom, and theres nothing wanting but to put the address to it;id be d if your discretion would read it, for i think it runs inthe governor style; i mean the way governors ought to write." "and who dictated it?" asked the duchess. "who should have dictated but myself, sinner as i am?" said sancho. "and did you write it yourself?" said the duchess. "that i didnt," said sancho; "for i can neither read nor write,though i can sign my name." "let us see it," said the duchess, "for never fear but you disyin it the quality and quantity of your wit." sancho drew out an open letter from his bosom, and the duchess,taking it, found it ran in this fashion: sancho panzas letter to his wife, teresa panza if i was well whipped i went mounted like a gentleman; if i have gota good government it is at the cost of a good whipping. thou wiltnot understand this just now, my teresa; by-and-by thou wilt know whatit means. i may tell thee, teresa, i mean thee to go in a coach, forthat is a matter of importance, because every other way of going isgoing on all-fours. thou art a governors wife; take care thatnobody speaks evil of thee behind thy back. i send thee here a greenhunting suit that mydy the duchess gave me; alter it so as tomake a petticoat and bodice for our daughter. don quixote, mymaster, if i am to believe what i hear in these parts, is a madmanof some sense, and a droll blockhead, and i am no way behind him. wehave been in the cave of montesinos, and the sage merlin hasid holdof me for the disen²åntment of dulcinea del toboso, her that iscalled aldonza lorenzo over there. with three thousand three hundreÉäs, less five, that im to give myself, Éä will be left asentirely disen²ånted as the mother that bore her. say nothing of thisto anyone; for, make thy affairs public, and some will say they arewhite and others will say they are ck. i shall leave this in afew days for my government, to which i am going with a mighty greatdesire to make money, for they tell me all new governors set outwith the same desire; i will feel the pulse of it and will let theeknow if thou art toe and live with me or not. dapple is well andsends many remembrances to thee; i am not going to leave him behindthough they took me away to be grand turk. mydy the duchesskisses thy hands a thousand times; do thou make a return with twothousand, for as my master says, nothing costs less or is cheaper thancivility. god has not been pleased to provide another valise for mewith another hundred crowns, like the one the other day; but nevermind, my teresa, the bell-ringer is in safe quarters, and all wile out in the scouring of the government; only it troubles megreatly what they tell me- that once i have tasted it i will eat myhands off after it; and if that is so it will note very cheap tome; though to be sure the maimed have a benefice of their own in thealms they beg for; so that one way or another thou wilt be rich and inluck. god give it to thee as he can, and keep me to serve thee. fromthis castle, the 20th of july, 1614. thy husband, the governor. sancho panza when Éä had done reading the letter the duchess said to sancho, "ontwo points the worthy governor goes rather astray; one is in saying orhinting that this government has been bestowed upon him for theÉästhat he is to give himself, when he knows £¨and he cannot deny it£© thatwhen my lord the duke promised it to him nobody ever dreamt of su²å thing asÉäs; the other is that he shows himself here to hevery covetous; and i would not have him a money-seeker, forcovetousness bursts the bag, and the covetous governor doesungoverned justice." "i dont mean it that way, senora," said sancho; "and if you thinkthe letter doesnt run as it ought to do, its only to tear it upand make another; and maybe it will be a worse one if it is left to mygumption." "no, no," said the duchess, "this one will do, and i wish the duketo see it." with this they betook themselves to a garden where they were todine, and the duchess showed sanchos letter to the duke, who washighly delighted with it. they dined, and after the cloth had beenremoved and they had amused themselves for a while with sanchosrich conversation, the mncholy sound of a fife and harsh discordantdrum made itself heard. all seemed somewhat put out by this dull,confused, martial harmony, especially don quixote, who could notkeep his seat from pure disquietude; as to sancho, it is needless tosay that fear drove him to his usual refuge, the side or the skirts ofthe duchess; and indeed and in truth the sound they heard was a mostdoleful and mncholy one. while they were still in uncertaintythey saw advancing towards them through the garden two men d inmourning robes so long and flowing that they trailed upon theground. as they marched they beat two great drums which werelikewise draped in ck, and beside them came the fife yer,ck and sombre like the others. following these came a personageof gigantic stature enveloped rather than d in a gown of thedeepest ck, the skirt of which was of prodigious dimensions. overthe gown, girdling or crossing his figure, he had a broad baldricwhich was also ck, and from which hung a huge scimitar with a ckscabbard and furniture. he had his face covered with a transparentck veil, through which might be descried a very long beard as whiteas snow. he came on keeping step to the sound of the drums withgreat gravity and dignity; and, in short, his stature, his gait, thesombreness of his appearance and his following might well havestruck with astonishment, as they did, all who beheld him withoutknowing who he was. with this measured pace and in this guise headvanced to kneel before the duke, who, with the others, awaited himstanding. the duke, however, would not on any ount allow him tospeak until he had risen. the prodigious scarecrow obeyed, andstanding up, removed the veil from his face and disclosed the mostenormous, the longest, the whitest and the thickest beard that humaneyes had ever beheld until that moment, and then fetching up agrave, sonorous voice from the depths of his broad, capacious chest,and fiÐÔ his eyes on the duke, he said:
µÚ156Ò³ "most high and mighty senor, my name is trifaldin of the whitebeard; i am squire to the countess trifaldi, otherwise called thedistressed duenna, on whose behalf i bear a message to yourhighness, which is that your magnificence will be pleased to grant herleave and permission toe and tell you her trouble, which is one ofthe strangest and most wonderful that the mind most familiar withtrouble in the world could have imagined; but first Éä desires toknow if the valiant and never vanquiÉäd knight, don quixote ofman²å, is in this your castle, for Éä hase in quest of him onfoot and without breaking her fast from the kingdom of kandy to yourrealms here; a thing which may and ought to be regarded as a miracleor set down to en²åntment; Éä is even now at the gate of thisfortress or isance, and only waits for your permission to enter.i have spoken." and with that he coughed, and stroked down his beardwith both his hands, and stood very tranquilly waiting for theresponse of the duke, which was to this effect: "many days ago, worthysquire trifaldin of the white beard, we heard of the misfortune ofmydy the countess trifaldi, whom the en²ånters have caused to becalled the distressed duenna. bid her enter, o stupendous squire,and tell her that the valiant knight don quixote of man²å is here,and from his generous disposition Éä may safely promise herself everyprotection and assistance; and you may tell her, too, that if my aidbe necessary it will not be withheld, for i am bound to give it to herby my quality of knight, which involves the protection of women of allsorts, especially widowed, wronged, and distressed dames, such aÉärdyship seems to be." on hearing this trifaldin bent the knee to the ground, and makinga sign to the fifer and drummers to strike up, he turned and marchedout of the garden to the same notes and at the same pace as when heentered, leaving them all amazed at his bearing and solemnity. turningto don quixote, the duke said, "after all, renowned knight, themists of malice and ignorance are unable to hide or obscure thelight of valour and virtue. i say so, because your excellence has beenbarely six days in this castle, and already the unhappy and theafflictede in quest of you fromnds far distant and remote,and not in coaches or on dromedaries, but on foot and fasting,confident that in that mighty arm they will find a cure for theirsorrows and troubles; thanks to your great achievements, which arecircted all over the known earth." "i wish, senor duke," replied don quixote, "that blessedlesiastic, who at table the other day showed such ill-will andbitter spite against knights-errant, were here now to see with his owneyes whether knights of the sort are needed in the world; he wouldat any rate learn by experience that those suffering any extraordinaryaffliction or sorrow, in extreme cases and unusual misfortunes donot go to look for a remedy to the houses of jurists or vigesacristans, or to the knight who has never attempted to pass thebounds of his own town, or to the indolent courtier who only seeks fornews to repeat and talk of, instead of striving to do deeds andexploits for others to rte and record. relief in distress, helpin need, protection for damsels, constion for widows, are to befound in no sort of persons better than in knights-errant; and igive unceasing thanks to heaven that i am one, and regard anymisfortune or suffering that may befall me in the pursuit of sohonourable a calling as endured to good purpose. let this duenne and ask what Éä will, for i will effect her relief by themight of my arm and the dauntless resolution of my bold heart."²åpter xxxvii wherein is continued the notable adventure of the distressed duenna the duke and duchess were extremely d to see how readily donquixote fell in with their scheme; but at this moment sancho observed,"i hope this senora duenna wont be putting any difficulties in theway of the promise of my government; for i have heard a toledoapothecary, who talked like a goldfinch, say that where duennas weremixed up nothing good could happen. god bless me, how he hated them,that same apothecary! and so what im thinking is, if all duennas,of whatever sort or condition they may be, are gues and busybodies,what must they be that are distressed, like this countess three-skirtsor three-tails!- for in my country skirts or tails, tails or skirts,its all one." "hush, friend sancho," said don quixote; "since thisdy duennes in quest of me from such a distantnd Éä cannot be one ofthose the apothecary meant; moreover this is a countess, and whencountesses serve as duennas it is in the service of queens andempresses, for in their own houses they are mistresses paramount andhave other duennas to wait on them." to this dona rodriguez, who was present, made answer, "mydy theduchess has duennas in her service that might be countesses if itwas the will of fortune; butws go as kings like; let nobody speakill of duennas, above all of ancient maiden ones; for though i amnot one myself, i know and am aware of the advantage a maiden duennahas over one that is a widow; but he who clipped us has kept thescissors." "for all that," said sancho, "theres so much to be clipped aboutduennas, so my barber said, that it will be better not to stir therice even though it sticks." "these squires," returned dona rodriguez, "are always our enemies;and as they are the haunting spirits of the ante²åmbers and watchus at every step, whenever they are not saying their prayers £¨andthats often enough£© they spend their time in tattling about us,digging up our bones and burying our good name. but i can tell thesewalking blocks that we will live in spite of them, and in great housestoo, though we die of hunger and cover our flesh, be it delicate ornot, with widows weeds, as one covers or hides a dunghill on aprocession day. by my faith, if it were permitted me and time allowed,i could prove, not only to those here present, but to all the world,that there is no virtue that is not to be found in a duenna." "i have no doubt," said the duchess, "that my good dona rodriguez isright, and very much so; but Éä had better bide her time for fightingher own battle and that of the rest of the duennas, so as to crush thecalumny of that vile apothecary, and root out the prejudice in thegreat sancho panzas mind." to which sancho replied, "ever since i have sniffed the governorshipi have got rid of the humours of a squire, and i dont care a wild figfor all the duennas in the world." they would have carried on this duenna dispute further had theynot heard the notes of the fife and drums once more, from which theyconcluded that the distressed duenna was making her entrance. theduchess asked the duke if it would be proper to go out to receive her,as Éä was a countess and a person of rank. "in respect of her being a countess," said sancho, before the dukecould reply, "i am for your highnesses going out to receive her; butin respect of her being a duenna, it is my opinion you should not stira step." "who bade thee meddle in this, sancho?" said don quixote. "who, senor?" said sancho; "i meddle for i have a right to meddle,as a squire who has learned the rules of courtesy in the school ofyour worship, the most courteous and best-bred knight in the wholeworld of courtliness; and in these things, as i have heard yourworship say, as much is lost by a card too many as by a card toofew, and to one who has his ears open, few words." "sancho is right," said the duke; "well see what the countess islike, and by that measure the courtesy that is due to her." and now the drums and fife made their entrance as before; and herethe author brought this short ²åpter to an end and began the next,following up the same adventure, which is one of the most notable inthe history.²åpter xxxviii wherein is told the distressed duennas tale of her misfortunes following the mncholy musicians there filed into the garden asmany as twelve duennas, in two lines, all dressed in ample mourningrobes apparently of milled serge, with hoods of fine white gauze solong that they allowed only the border of the robe to be seen.behind them came the countess trifaldi, the squire trifaldin of thewhite beard leading her by the hand, d in the finest unnapped ckbaize, such that, had it a nap, every tuft would have shown as bigas a martos chickpea; the tail, or skirt, or whatever it might becalled, ended in three points which were borne up by the hands ofthree pages, likewise dressed in mourning, forming an elegantgeometrical figure with the three acute angles made by the threepoints, from which all who saw the peaked skirt concluded that it mustbe because of it the countess was called trifaldi, as though it werecountess of the three skirts; and benengeli says it was so, and thatby her right name Éä was called the countess lobuna, because wolvesbred in great numbers in her country; and if, instead of wolves,they had been foxes, Éä would have been called the countesszorruna, as it was the custom in those parts for lords to takedistinctive titles from the thing or things most abundant in theirdominions; this countess, however, in honour of the new fashion of herskirt, dropped lobuna and took up trifaldi. the twelve duennas and thedy came on at procession pace, theirfaces being covered with ck veils, not transparent ones liketrifaldins, but so close that they allowed nothing to be seen throughthem. as soon as the band of duennas was fully in sight, the duke, theduchess, and don quixote stood up, as well as all who were watchingthe slow-moving procession. the twelve duennas halted and formed ne, along which the distressed one advanced, trifaldin still holdingher hand. on seeing this the duke, the duchess, and don quixote wentsome twelve paces forward to meet her. Éä then, kneeling on theground, said in a voice hoarse and rough, rather than fine anddelicate, "may it please your highnesses not to offer suchcourtesies to this your servant, i should say to this your handmaid,for i am in such distress that i shall never be able to make aproper return, because my strange and unparalleled misfortune hascarried off my wits, and i know not whither; but it must be a long wayoff, for the more i look for them the less i find them."
µÚ157Ò³ "he would be wanting in wits, senora countess," said the duke,"who did not perceive your worth by your person, for at a nce itmay be seen it deserves all the cream of courtesy and flower of politeusage;" and raising her up by the hand he led her to a seat beside theduchess, who likewise received her with great urbanity. don quixoteremained silent, while sancho was dying to see the features oftrifaldi and one or two of her many duennas; but there was nopossibility of it until they themselves disyed them of their ownord and free will. all kept still, waiting to see who would break silence, which thedistressed duenna did in these words: "i am confident, most mightylord, most fairdy, and most discreetpany, that my mostmiserable misery will be orded a reception no less dispassionatethan generous and condolent in your most valiant bosoms, for it is hat is enough to melt marble, soften diamonds, and mollify thesteel of the most hardened hearts in the world; but ere it isproimed to your hearing, not to say your ears, i would fain beenlightened whether there be present in this society, circle, opany, that knight immactissimus, don quixote demanchissima, and his squirissimus panza." "the panza is here," said sancho, before anyone could reply, "anddon quixotissimus too; and so, most distressedest duenissima, youmay say what you willissimus, for we are all readissimus to do you anyservissimus." on this don quixote rose, and addressing the distressed duenna,said, "if your sorrows, afflicteddy, can indulge in any hope ofrelief from the valour or might of any knight-errant, here are mine,which, feeble and limited though they be, shall be entirely devoted toyour service. i am don quixote of man²å, whose calling it is togive aid to the needy of all sorts; and that being so, it is notnecessary for you, senora, to make any appeal to benevolence, ordeal in preambles, only to tell your woes inly andstraightforwardly: for you have hearers that will know how, if notto remedy them, to sympathise with them." on hearing this, the distressed duenna made as though Éä wouldthrow herself at don quixotes feet, and actually did fall before themand said, as Éä strove to embrace them, "before these feet and legs icast myself, o unconquered knight, as before, what they are, thefoundations and pirs of knight-errantry; these feet i desire tokiss, for upon their steps hangs and depends the sole remedy for mymisfortune, o valorous errant, whose veritable achievements leavebehind and eclipse the fabulous ones of the amadises, esndians, andbelianises!" then turning from don quixote to sancho panza, andgrasping his hands, Éä said, "o thou, most loyal squire that everserved knight-errant in this present age or ages past, whosegoodness is more extensive than the beard of trifaldin mypanionhere of present, well mayest thou boast thyself that, in serving thegreat don quixote, thou art serving, summed up in one, the wholehost of knights that have ever borne arms in the world. i conjurethee, by what thou owest to thy most loyal goodness, that thou wiltbe my kind intercessor with thy master, that he speedily giveaid to this most humble and most unfortunate countess." to this sancho made answer, "as to my goodness, senora, being aslong and as great as your squires beard, it matters very little tome; may i have my soul well bearded and moustached when ites toquit this life, thats the point; about beards here below i carelittle or nothing; but without all these ndishments and prayers,i will beg my master £¨for i know he loves me, and, besides, he hasneed of me just now for a certain business£© to help and aid yourworship as far as he can; unpack your woes andy them before us, andleave us to deal with them, for well be all of one mind." the duke and duchess, as it was they who had made the experimentof this adventure, were ready to burst withughter at all this,and between themselves theymended the clever acting of thetrifaldi, who, returning to her seat, said, "queen dona magunciareigned over the famous kingdom of kandy, which lies between the greattrapobana and the southern sea, two leagues beyond capeorin. Éäwas the widow of king archipi, her lord and husband, and of theirmarriage they had issue the princess antonomasia, heiress of thekingdom; which princess antonomasia was reared and brought up under mycare and direction, i being the oldest and highest in rank of hermothers duennas. time passed, and the young antonomasia reached theage of fourteen, and such a perfection of beauty, that nature couldnot raise it higher. then, it must not be supposed her intelligencewas childish; Éä was as intelligent as Éä was fair, and Éä wasfairer than all the world; and is so still, unless the envious fatesand hard-hearted sisters three have cut for her the thread of life.but that they have not, for heaven will not suffer so great a wrong toearth, as it would be to pluck unripe the grapes of the fairestvineyard on its surface. of this beauty, to which my poor feebletongue has failed to do justice, countless princes, not only of thatcountry, but of others, were enamoured, and among them a privategentleman, who was at the court, dared to raise his thoughts to theheaven of so great beauty, trusting to his youth, his gant bearing,his numerous aplishments and graces, and his quickness andreadiness of wit; for i may tell your highnesses, if i am not wearyingyou, that he yed the guitar so as to make it speak, and he was,besides, a poet and a great dancer, and he could make birdcages sowell, that by making them alone he might have gained a livelihood, hadhe found himself reduced to utter poverty; and gifts and graces ofthis kind are enough to bring down a mountain, not to say a tenderyoung girl. but all his gantry, wit, and gaiety, all his graces andaplishments, would have been of little or no avail towards gainingthe fortress of my pupil, had not the impudent thief taken theprecaution of gaining me over first. first, the viin andheartless vagabond sought to win my good-will and pur²åse mpliance, so as to get me, like a treacherous warder, to deliverup to him the keys of the fortress i had in ²årge. in a word, hegained an influence over my mind, and overcame my resolutions with iknow not what trinkets and jewels he gave me; but it was some verses iheard him singing one night from a grating that opened on the streetwhere he lived, that, more than anything else, made me give way andled to my fall; and if i remember rightly they ran thus: from that sweet enemy of mine my bleeding heart hath had its wound; and to increase the pain im bound to suffer and to make no sign.the lines seemed pearls to me and his voice sweet as syrup; andafterwards, i may say ever since then, looking at the misfortuneinto which i have fallen, i have thought that poets, as to advised,ought to he baniÉäd from all well-ordered states; at least theamatory ones, for they write verses, not like those of the marquis ofmantua, that delight and draw tears from the women and children,but sharp-pointed conceits that pierce the heart like soft thorns, andlike the lightning strike it, leaving the raiment uninjured. anothertime he sang: come death, so subtly veiled that i thying know not, how or when, lest it should give me life again to find how sweet it is to die.-and other verses and burdens of the same sort, such as en²ånt whensung and fascinate when written. and then, when they condescend tpose a sort of verse that was at that time in vogue in kandy, whichthey call seguidis! then it is that hearts leap andughter breaksforth, and the body grows restless and all the senses turnquicksilver. and so i say, sirs, that these troubadours richly deserveto be baniÉäd to the isles of the lizards. though it is not they thatare in fault, but the simpletons that extol them, and the fools thatbelieve in them; and had i been the faithful duenna i should havebeen, his stale conceits would have never moved me, nor should ihave been taken in by such phrases as in death i live, in ice iburn, in mes i shiver, hopeless i hope, i go and stay, andparadoxes of that sort which their writings are full of. and then whenthey promise the phoenix of arabia, the crown of ariadne, the horsesof the sun, the pearls of the south, the gold of tibar, and the balsamof pan²åia! then it is they give a loose to their pens, for itcosts them little to make promises they have no intention or powerof fulfilling. but where am i wandering to? woe is me, unfortunatebeing! what madness or folly leads me to speak of the faults ofothers, when there is so much to be said about my own? again, woe isme, hapless that i am! it was not verses that conquered me, but my ownsimplicity; it was not music made me yield, but my own imprudence;my own great ignorance and little caution opened the way and clearedthe path for don vijos advances, for that was the name of thegentleman i have referred to; and so, with my help as go-between, hefound his way many a time into the ²åmber of the deceived antonomasia£¨deceived not by him but by me£© under the title of awful husband;for, sinner though i was, would not have allowed him to approach theedge of her shoe-sole without being her husband. no, no, not that;marriage muste first in any business of this sort that i take inhand. but there was one hitch in this case, which was that ofinequality of rank, don vijo being a private gentleman, and theprincess antonomasia, as i said, heiress to the kingdom. theentanglement remained for some time a secret, kept hidden by mycunning precautions, until i perceived that a certain expansion ofwaist in antonomasia must before long disclose it, the dread ofwhich made us all there take counsel together, and it was agreedthat before the mischief came to light, don vijo should demandantonomasia as his wife before the vicar, in virtue of an agreement tomarry him made by the princess, and drafted by my wit in suchbinding terms that the might of samson could not have broken it. thenecessary steps were taken; the vicar saw the agreement, and tookthedys confession; Éä confessed everything in full, and heordered her into the custody of a very worthy alguacil of the court."
µÚ158Ò³ "are there alguacils of the court in kandy, too," said sancho atthis, "and poets, and seguidis? i swear i think the world is thesame all over! but make haste, senora trifaldi; for it iste, andi am dying to know the end of this long story." "i will," replied the countess. ²åpter xxxix in which the trifaldi continues her marvellous and memorable story by every word that sancho uttered, the duchess was as much delightedas don quixote was driven to desperation. he bade him hold his tongue,and the distressed one went on to say: "at length, after muchquestioning and answering, as the princess held to her story,without ²ånging or varying her previous deration, the vicar gavehis decision in favour of don vijo, and Éä was delivered over tohim as hiswful wife; which the queen dona maguncia, the princessantonomasias mother, so took to heart, that within the space of threedays we buried her." "Éä died, no doubt," said sancho. "of course," said trifaldin; "they dont bury living people inkandy, only the dead." "senor squire," said sancho, "a man in a swoon has been known tobe buried before now, in the belief that he was dead; and it struck methat queen maguncia ought to have swooned rather than died; becausewith life a great many thingse right, and the princesss folly wasnot so great that Éä need feel it so keenly. if thedy hadmarried some page of hers, or some other servant of the house, as manyanother has done, so i have heard say, then the mischief would havebeen past curing. but to marry such an elegant apliÉädgentleman as has been just now described to us- indeed, indeed, thoughit was a folly, it was not such a great one as you think; forording to the rules of my master here- and he wont allow me tolie- as of men of letters bishops are made, so of gentlemen knights,specially if they be errant, kings and emperors may be made." "thou art right, sancho," said don quixote, "for with aknight-errant, if he has but two fingers breadth of good fortune,it is on the cards to be the mightiest lord on earth. but letsenora the distressed one proceed; for i suspect Éä has got yet totell us the bitter part of this so far sweet story." "the bitter is indeed toe," said the countess; "and suchbitter that colocynth is sweet and oleander toothsome inparison.the queen, then, being dead, and not in a swoon, we buried her; andhardly had we covered her with earth, hardly had we said ourstfarewells, when, quis talia fando temperet achrymis? over thequeens grave there appeared, mounted upon a wooden horse, the giantmmbruno, maguncias first cousin, who besides being cruel is anen²ånter; and he, to revenge the death of his cousin, punish theaudacity of don vijo, and in wrath at the contumacy of antonomasia,left them both en²ånted by his art on the grave itself; Éä being²ånged into an ape of brass, and he into a horrible crocodile of someunknown metal; while between the two there stands a pir, also ofmetal, with certain ²åracters in the syriguage inscribed uponit, which, being tranted into kandian, and now into castilian,contain the following sentence: these two rash lovers shall notrecover their former shape until the valiant mancheganes to dobattle with me in singlebat; for the fates reserve this unexampledadventure for his mighty valour alone. this done, he drew from itsÉäath a huge broad scimitar, and seizing me by the hair he made asthough he meant to cut my throat and Éäar my head clean off. i wasterror-stricken, my voice stuck in my throat, and i was in the deepestdistress; nevertheless i summoned up my strength as well as i could,and in a trembling and piteous voice i addressed such words to himas induced him to stay the infliction of a punishment so severe. hethen caused all the duennas of the pce, those that are herepresent, to be brought before him; and after having dwelt upon theenormity of our offence, and denounced duennas, their ²åracters,their evil ways and worse intrigues,ying to the ²årge of allwhat i alone was guilty of, he said he would not visit us with capitalpunishment, but with others of a slow nature which would be ineffect civil death for ever; and the very instant he ceased speakingwe all felt the pores of our faces opening, and pricking us, as ifwith the points of needles. we at once put our hands up to our facesand found ourselves in the state you now see." here the distressed one and the other duennas raised the veilswith which they were covered, and disclosed countenances all bristlingwith beards, some red, some ck, some white, and some grizzled, atwhich spectacle the duke and duchess made a show of being filledwith wonder. don quixote and sancho were overwhelmed with amazement,and the bystanders lost in astonishment, while the trifaldi went on tosay: "thus did that malevolent viin mmbruno punish us,covering the tenderness and softness of our faces with these roughbristles! would to heaven that he had swept off our heads with hisenormous scimitar instead of obscuring the light of our countenanceswith these woolbings that cover us! for if we look into thematter, sirs £¨and what i am now going to say i would say with eyesflowing like fountains, only that the thought of our misfortune andthe oceans they have already wept, keep them as dry as barleyspears, and so i say it without tears£©£¬ where, i ask, can a duennawith a beard to to? what father or mother will feel pity for her?who will help her? for, if even when Éä has a smooth skin, and a facetortured by a thousand kinds of waÉäs and cosmetics, Éä can hardlyget anybody to love her, what will Éä do when Éä shows acountenace turned into a thicket? oh duennas,panions mine! itwas an unlucky moment when we were born and an ill-starred hour whenour fathers begot us!" and as Éä said this Éä showed signs ofbeing about to faint.²åpter xl of matters rting and belonging to this adventure and to thismemorable history verily and truly all those who find pleasure in histories likethis ought show their gratitude to cide hamete, its original author,for the scrupulous care he has taken to set before us all its minuteparticrs, not leaving anything, however trifling it may be, that hedoes not make clear and in. he portrays the thoughts, he revealsthe fancies, he answers implied questions, clears up doubts, setsobjections at rest, and, in a word, makes in the smallest pointsthe most inquisitive can desire to know. o renowned author! o happydon quixote! o famous famous droll sancho! all and each, may ye livecountless ages for the delight and amusement of the dwellers on earth! the history goes on to say that when sancho saw the distressed onefaint he eximed: "i swear by the faith of an honest man and theshades of all my ancestors the panzas, that never i did see or hearof, nor has my master rted or conceived in his mind, such anadventure as this. a thousand devils- not to curse thee- take thee,mmbruno, for an en²ånter and a giant! couldst thou find no othersort of punishment for these sinners but bearding them? would it nothave been better- it would have been better for them- to have takenoff half their noses from the middle upwards, even though theydhave snuffled when they spoke, than to have put beards on them? illbet they have not the means of paying anybody to shave them." "that is the truth, senor," said one of the twelve; "we have not themoney to get ourselves shaved, and so we have, some of us, taken tousing sticking-sters by way of an economical remedy, for byapplying them to our faces and plucking them off with a jerk we areleft as bare and smooth as the bottom of a stone mortar. there are, tobe sure, women in kandy that go about from house to house to removedown, and trim eyebrows, and make cosmetics for the use of thewomen, but we, the duennas of mydy, would never let them in, formost of them have a vour of agents that have ceased to beprincipals; and if we are not relieved by senor don quixote we shallbe carried to our graves with beards." "i will pluck out my own in thend of the moors," said donquixote, "if i dont cure yours." at this instant the trifaldi recovered from her swoon and said, "thechink of that promise, valiant knight, reached my ears in the midst ofmy swoon, and has been the means of reviving me and bringing back mysenses; and so once more i implore you, illustrious errant,indomitable sir, to let your gracious promises be turned into deeds." "there shall be no dy on my part," said don quixote. "bethinkyou, senora, of what i must do, for my heart is most eager to serveyou." "the fact is," replied the distressed one, "it is five thousandleagues, a couple more or less, from this to the kingdom of kandy,if you go bynd; but if you go through the air and in a straightline, it is three thousand two hundred and twenty-seven. you mustknow, too, that mmbruno told me that, whenever fate provided theknight our deliverer, he himself would send him a steed far better andwith less tricks than a post-horse; for he will be that same woodenhorse on which the valiant pierres carried off the fair magalona;which said horse is guided by a peg he has in his forehead that servesfor a bridle, and flies through the air with such rapidity that youwould fancy the very devils were carrying him. this horse, ordingto ancient tradition, was made by merlin. he lent him to pierres,who was a friend of his, and who made long journeys with him, and,as has been said, carried off the fair magalona, bearing her throughthe air on its haunches and making all who beheld them from theearth gape with astonishment; and he never lent him save to those whomhe loved or those who paid him well; and since the great pierres weknow of no one having mounted him until now. from him mmbruno stolehim by his magic art, and he has him now in his possession, andmakes use of him in his journeys which he constantly makes throughdifferent parts of the world; he is here to-day, to-morrow infrance, and the next day in potosi; and the best of it is the saidhorse neither eats nor sleeps nor wears out shoes, and goes at anambling pace through the air without wings, so that he whom he hasmounted upon him can carry a cup full of water in his hand withoutspilling a drop, so smoothly and easily does he go, for which reasonthe fair magalona enjoyed riding him greatly."
µÚ159Ò³ "for going smoothly and easily," said sancho at this, "give me mydapple, though he cant go through the air; but on the ground illback him against all the amblers in the world." they allughed, and the distressed one continued: "and this samehorse, if so be that mmbruno is disposed to put an end to oursufferings, will be here before us ere the night shall have advancedhalf an hour; for he announced to me that the sign he would give mewhereby i might know that i had found the knight i was in quest of,would be to send me the horse wherever he might be, speedily andpromptly." "and how many is there room for on this horse?" asked sancho. "two," said the distressed one, "one in the saddle, and the other onthe croup; and generally these two are knight and squire, when thereis no damsel thats being carried off." "id like to know, senora distressed one," said sancho, "what is thename of this horse?" "his name," said the distressed one, "is not the same asbellerophons horse that was called pegasus, or alexander the greats,called bucephalus, or ondo furiosos, the name of which wasbrigliador, nor yet bayard, the horse of reinaldos of montalvan, norfrontino like ruggieros, nor bootes or peritoa, as they say thehorses of the sun were called, nor is he called orelia, like the horseon which the unfortunate rodrigo, thest king of the goths, rodeto the battle where he lost his life and his kingdom." "ill bet," said sancho, "that as they have given him none ofthese famous names of well-known horses, no more have they given himthe name of my masters rocinante, which for being apt surpasses allthat have been mentioned." "that is true," said the bearded countess, "still it fits him verywell, for he is called vileno the swift, which name is inordance with his being made of wood, with the peg he has in hisforehead, and with the swift pace at which he travels; and so, asfar as name goes, he maypare with the famous rocinante." "i have nothing to say against his name," said sancho; "but withwhat sort of bridle or halter is he managed?" "i have said already," said the trifaldi, "that it is with a peg, byturning which to one side or the other the knight who rides himmakes him go as he pleases, either through the upper air, orskimming and almost sweeping the earth, or else in that middlecourse that is sought and followed in all well-regted proceedings." "id like to see him," said sancho; "but to fancy im going to mounthim, either in the saddle or on the croup, is to ask pears of theelm tree. a good joke indeed! i can hardly keep my seat upon dapple,and on a pack-saddle softer than silk itself, and here theyd haveme hold on upon haunches of nk without pad or cushion of anysort! gad, i have no notion of bruising myself to get rid ofanyones beard; let each one shave himself as best he can; im notgoing to apany my master on any such long journey; besides, icant give any help to the shaving of these beards as i can to thedisen²åntment of mydy dulcinea." "yes, you can, my friend," replied the trifaldi; "and so much,that without you, so i understand, we shall be able to do nothing." "in the kings name!" eximed sancho, "what have squires got to dowith the adventures of their masters? are they to have the fame ofsuch as they go through, and we thebour? body o me! if thehistorians would only say, such and such a knight finiÉäd such andsuch an adventure, but with the help of so and so, his squire, withoutwhich it would have been impossible for him to aplish it; butthey write curtly, "don paralipomenon of the three starsapliÉäd the adventure of the six monsters; without mentioningsuch a person as his squire, who was there all the time, just as ifthere was no such being. once more, sirs, i say my master may goalone, and much good may it do him; and ill stay here in thpany of mydy the duchess; and maybe when hees back, hewill find thedy dulcineas affair ever so much advanced; for i meanin leisure hours, and at idle moments, to give myself a spell ofwhipping without so much as a hair to cover me." "for all that you must go if it be necessary, my good sancho,"said the duchess, "for they are worthy folk who ask you; and the facesof thesedies must not remain overgrown in this way because ofyour idle fears; that would be a hard case indeed." "in the kings name, once more!" said sancho; "if this ²åritablework were to be done for the sake of damsels in confinement or²årity-girls, a man might expose himself to some hardships; but tobear it for the sake of stripping beards off duennas! devil take it!id sooner see them all bearded, from the highest to the lowest, andfrom the most prudish to the most affected." "you are very hard on duennas, sancho my friend," said theduchess; "you incline very much to the opinion of the toledoapothecary. but indeed you are wrong; there are duennas in my housethat may serve as patterns of duennas; and here is my donarodriguez, who will not allow me to say otherwise." "your excellence may say it if you like," said the rodriguez; "forgod knows the truth of everything; and whether we duennas are goodor bad, bearded or smooth, we are our mothers daughters like otherwomen; and as god sent us into the world, he knows why he did, andon his mercy i rely, and not on anybodys beard." "well, senora rodriguez, senora trifaldi, and presentpany," saiddon quixote, "i trust in heaven that it will look with kindly eyesupon your troubles, for sancho will do as i bid him. only letvilenoe and let me find myself face to face with mmbruno,and i am certain no razor will shave you more easily than my swordshall shave mmbrunos head off his shoulders; for god bears withthe wicked, but not for ever." "ah!" eximed the distressed one at this, "may all the stars ofthe celestial regions look down upon your greatness with benigneyes, valiant knight, and Éäd every prosperity and valour upon yourheart, that it may be the shield and safeguard of the abused anddowntrodden race of duennas, detested by apothecaries, sneered at bysquires, and made game of by pages. ill betide the jade that in theflower of her youth would not sooner be a nun than a duenna!unfortunate beings that we are, we duennas! though we may be descendedin the direct male line from hector of troy himself, our mistressesnever fail to address us as you if they think it makes queens ofthem. o giant mmbruno, though thou art an en²ånter, thou arttrue to thy promises. send us now the peerless vileno, that ourmisfortune may be brought to an end; for if the hot weather sets inand these beards of ours are still there, s for our lot!" the trifaldi said this in such a pathetic way that Éä drew tearsfrom the eyes of all and even sanchos filled up; and he resolved inhis heart to apany his master to the uttermost ends of theearth, if so be the removal of the wool from those venerablecountenances depended upon it. ²åpter xli of the arrival of vileno and the end of this protracted adventure and now night came, and with it the appointed time for the arrivalof the famous horse vileno, the non-appearance of which was alreadybeginning to make don quixote uneasy, for it struck him that, asmmbruno was so long about sending it, either he himself was not theknight for whom the adventure was reserved, or else mmbruno did notdare to meet him in singlebat. but lo! suddenly there came intothe garden four wild-men all d in green ivy bearing on theirshoulders a great wooden horse. they ced it on its feet on theground, and one of the wild-men said, "let the knight who has heartfor it mount this machine." here sancho eximed, "i dont mount, for neither have i theheart nor am i a knight." "and let the squire, if he has one," continued the wild-man, "takehis seat on the croup, and let him trust the valiant mmbruno; forby no sword save his, nor by the malice of any other, shall he beassailed. it is but to turn this peg the horse has in his neck, and hewill bear them through the air to where mmbruno awaits them; butlest the vast elevation of their course should make them giddy,their eyes must be covered until the horse neighs, which will be thesign of their havingpleted their journey." with these words, leaving vileno behind them, they retired witheasy dignity the way they came. as soon as the distressed one sawthe horse, almost in tears Éä eximed to don quixote, "valiantknight, the promise of mmbruno has proved trustworthy; the horsehase, our beards are growing, and by every hair in them all ofus implore thee to shave and Éäar us, as it is only mounting him withthy squire and making a happy beginning with your new journey." "that i will, senora countess trifaldi," said don quixote, "mostdly and with right goodwill, without stopping to take a cushionor put on my spurs, so as not to lose time, such is my desire to seeyou and all these duennas shaved clean." "that i wont," said sancho, "with good-will or bad-will, or any wayat all; and if this shaving cant be done without my mounting on thecroup, my master had better look out for another squire to go withhim, and thesedies for some other way of making their faces smooth;im no witch to have a taste for travelling through the air. whatwould my inders say when they heard their governor was going,strolling about on the winds? and another thing, as it is threethousand and odd leagues from this to kandy, if the horse tires, orthe giant takes huff, well he half a dozen years getting back, andthere wont be isle or ind in the world that will know me: andso, as it is amon saying in dy theres danger, and when theyoffer thee a heifer run with a halter, thesedies beards mustexcuse me; saint peter is very well in rome; i mean i am very wellin this house where so much is made of me, and i hope for such agood thing from the master as to see myself a governor."
µÚ160Ò³ "friend sancho," said the duke at this, "the ind that i havepromised you is not a moving one, or one that will run away; it hasroots so deeply buried in the bowels of the earth that it will be noeasy matter to pluck it up or shift it from where it is; you know aswell as i do that there is no sort of office of any importance that isnot obtained by a bribe of some kind, great or small; well then,that which i look to receive for this government is that you go withyour master don quixote, and bring this memorable adventure to aconclusion; and whether you return on vileno as quickly as hisspeed seems to promise, or adverse fortune brings you back on foottravelling as a pilgrim from hostel to hostel and from inn to inn, youwill always find your ind on your return where you left it, andyour inders with the same eagerness they have always had to receiveyou as their governor, and my good-will will remain the same; doubtnot the truth of this, senor sancho, for that would be grievouslywronging my disposition to serve you." "say no more, senor," said sancho; "i am a poor squire and not equalto carrying so much courtesy; let my master mount; bandage my eyes anmit me to gods care, and tell me if i maymend myself to ourlord or call upon the angels to protect me when we go towering upthere." to this the trifaldi made answer, "sancho, you may freelymendyourself to god or whom you will; for mmbruno though an en²ånteris a christian, and works his en²åntments with greatcircumspection, taking very good care not to fall out with anyone." "well then," said sancho, "god and the most holy trinity of gaetagive me help!" "since the memorable adventure of the fulling mills," said donquixote, "i have never seen sancho in such a fright as now; were ias superstitious as others his abject fear would cause me somelittle trepidation of spirit. bute here, sancho, for with theleave of these gentles i would say a word or two to thee inprivate;" and drawing sancho aside among the trees of the garden andseizing both his hands he said, "thou seest, brother sancho, thelong journey we have before us, and god knows when we shall return, orwhat leisure or opportunities this business will allow us; i wish theetherefore to retire now to thy ²åmber, as though thou wert going tofetch something required for the road, and in a trice give thyselfif it be only five hundredÉäs on ount of the three thousandthree hundred to which thou art bound; it will be all to the good, andto make a beginning with a thing is to have it half finiÉäd." "by god," said sancho, "but your worship must be out of your senses!this is like themon saying, you see me with child, and you wantme a virgin. just as im about to go sitting on a bare board, yourworship would have me score my backside! indeed, your worship is notreasonable. let us be off to shave these duennas; and on our returni promise on my word to make such haste to wipe off all thats dueas will satisfy your worship; i cant say more." "well, i willfort myself with that promise, my good sancho,"replied don quixote, "and i believe thou wilt keep it; for indeedthough stupid thou art veracious." "im not voracious," said sancho, "only peckish; but even if i was alittle, still id keep my word." with this they went back to mount vileno, and as they wereabout to do so don quixote said, "cover thine eyes, sancho, and mount;for one who sends for us fromnds so far distant cannot mean todeceive us for the sake of the paltry glory to be derived fromdeceiving persons who trust in him; though all should turn out thecontrary of what i hope, no malice will be able to dim the glory ofhaving undertaken this exploit." "let us be off, senor," said sancho, "for i have taken the beardsand tears of thesedies deeply to heart, and i shant eat a bit torelish it until i have seen them restored to their formersmoothness. mount, your worship, and blindfold yourself, for if i amto go on the croup, it is in the rider in the saddle must mountfirst." "that is true," said don quixote, and, taking a handkerchief outof his pocket, he begged the distressed one to bandage his eyes verycarefully; but after having them bandaged he uncovered them again,saying, "if my memory does not deceive me, i have read in virgil ofthe padium of troy, a wooden horse the greeks offered to thegoddess pas, which was big with armed knights, who wereafterwards the destruction of troy; so it would he as well to see,first of all, what vileno has in his stomach." "there is no asion," said the distressed one; "i will be bail forhim, and i know that mmbruno has nothing tricky or treacherousabout him; you may mount without any fear, senor don quixote; on myhead be it if any harm befalls you." don quixote thought that to say anything further with regard tohis safety would be putting his courage in an unfavourable light;and so, without more words, he mounted vileno, and tried the peg,which turned easily; and as he had no stirrups and his legs hung down,he looked like nothing so much as a figure in some roman triumphpainted or embroidered on a flemish tapestry. much against the grain, and very slowly, sancho proceeded tomount, and, after settling himself as well as he could on the croup,found it rather hard, and not at all soft, and asked the duke if itwould be possible to oblige him with a pad of some kind, or a cushion;even if it were off the couch of hisdy the duchess, or the bed ofone of the pages; as the haunches of that horse were more likemarble than wood. on this the trifaldi observed that vileno wouldnot bear any kind of harness or trappings, and that his best nwould be to sit sideways like a woman, as in that way he would notfeel the hardness so much. sancho did so, and, bidding them farewell, allowed his eyes to hebandaged, but immediately afterwards uncovered them again, and lookingtenderly and tearfully on those in the garden, bade them help him inhis present strait with plenty of paternosters and ave marias, thatgod might provide some one to say as many for them, whenever theyfound themselves in a simr emergency. at this don quixote eximed, "art thou on the gallows, thief, orat thyst moment, to use pitiful entreaties of that sort?cowardly, spiritless creature, art thou not in the very ce the fairmagalona upied, and from which Éä descended, not into the grave,but to be queen of france; unless the histories lie? and i whoam here beside thee, may i not put myself on a par with the valiantpierres, who pressed this very spot that i now press? cover thineeyes, cover thine eyes, abject animal, and let not thy fear escape thylips, at least in my presence." "blindfold me," said sancho; "as you wont let memend myselfor bemended to god, is it any wonder if i am afraid there is aregion of devils about here that will carry us off to peralvillo?" they were then blindfolded, and don quixote, finding himself settledto his satisfaction, felt for the peg, and the instant he ced hisfingers on it, all the duennas and all who stood by lifted up theirvoices eximing, "god guide thee, valiant knight! god be withthee, intrepid squire! now, now ye go cleaving the air more swiftlythan an arrow! now ye begin to amaze and astonish all who are gazingat you from the earth! take care not to wobble about, valiantsancho! mind thou fall not, for thy fall will be worse than thatrash youths who tried to steer the ²åriot of his father the sun!" as sancho heard the voices, clinging tightly to his master andwinding his arms round him, he said, "senor, how do they make out weare going up so high, if their voices reach us here and they seem tobe speaking quite close to us?" "dont mind that, sancho," said don quixote; "for as affairs of thissort, and flights like this are out of themon course of things,you can see and hear as much as you like a thousand leagues off; butdont squeeze me so tight or thou wilt upset me; and really i know notwhat thou hast to be uneasy or frightened at, for i can safely swear inever mounted a smoother-going steed all the days of my life; onewould fancy we never stirred from one ce. banish fear, my friend,for indeed everything is going as it ought, and we have the windastern." "thats true," said sancho, "for such a strong windes against meon this side, that it seems as if people were blowing on me with athousand pair of bellows;" which was the case; they were puffing athim with a great pair of bellows; for the whole adventure was sowell nned by the duke, the duchess, and their majordomo, thatnothing was omitted to make it perfectly sessful. don quixote now, feeling the st, said, "beyond a doubt, sancho,we must have already reached the second region of the air, where thehail and snow are generated; the thunder, the lightning, and thethunderbolts are engendered in the third region, and if we go onascending at this rate, we shall shortly plunge into the region offire, and i know not how to regte this peg, so as not to mount upwhere we shall be burned." and now they began to warm their faces, from a distance, with towthat could be easily set on fire and extinguiÉäd again, fixed onthe end of a cane. on feeling the heat sancho said, "may i die if weare not already in that fire ce, or very near it, for a good partof my beard has been singed, and i have a mind, senor, to uncoverand see whereabouts we are."
µÚ161Ò³ "do nothing of the kind," said don quixote; "remember the true storyof the licentiate torralva that the devils carried flying throughthe air riding on a stick with his eyes shut; who in twelve hoursreached rome and dismounted at torre di nona, which is a street of thecity, and saw the whole sack and storming and the death of bourbon,and was back in madrid the next morning, where he gave an ount ofall he had seen; and he said moreover that as he was going through theair, the devil bade him open his eyes, and he did so, and sawhimself so near the body of the moon, so it seemed to him, that hecould haveid hold of it with his hand, and that he did not dareto look at the earth lest he should be seized with giddiness. so that,sancho, it will not do for us to uncover ourselves, for he who hasus in ²årge will be responsible for us; and perhaps we are gaining analtitude and mounting up to enable us to descend at one swoop on thekingdom of kandy, as the saker or falcon does on the heron, so as toseize it however high it may soar; and though it seems to us nothalf an hour since we left the garden, believe me we must havetravelled a great distance." "i dont know how that may be," said sancho; "all i know is thatif the senora maganes or magalona was satisfied with this croup,Éä could not have been very tender of flesh." the duke, the duchess, and all in the garden were listening to theconversation of the two heroes, and were beyond measure amused byit; and now, desirous of putting a finishing touch to this rare andwell-contrived adventure, they applied a light to vilenos tailwith some tow, and the horse, being full of squibs and crackers,immediately blew up with a prodigious noise, and brought don quixoteand sancho panza to the ground half singed. by this time the beardedband of duennas, the trifaldi and all, had vaniÉäd from the garden,and those that remainedy stretched on the ground as if in aswoon. don quixote and sancho got up rather shaken, and, looking aboutthem, were filled with amazement at finding themselves in the samegarden from which they had started, and seeing such a number of peoplestretched on the ground; and their astonishment was increased whenat one side of the garden they perceived a tallnce nted in theground, and hanging from it by two cords of green silk a smoothwhite parchment on which there was the following inscription irge gold letters: "the illustrious knight don quixote of man²åhas, by merely attempting it, finiÉäd and concluded the adventureof the countess trifaldi, otherwise called the distressed duenna;mmbruno is now satisfied on every point, the chins of the duennasare now smooth and clean, and king don vijo and queen antonomasiain their original form; and when the squirely getion shallhave beenpleted, the white dove shall find herself deliveredfrom the pestiferous gerfalcons that persecute her, and in the arms ofher beloved mate; for such is the decree of the sage merlin,arch-en²ånter of en²ånters." as soon as don quixote had read the inscription on the parchmenthe perceived clearly that it referred to the disen²åntment ofdulcinea, and returning hearty thanks to heaven that he had with solittle danger achieved so grand an exploit as to restore to theirformerplexion the countenances of those venerable duennas, headvanced towards the duke and duchess, who had not yete tothemselves, and taking the duke by the hand he said, "be of goodcheer, worthy sir, be of good cheer; its nothing at all; theadventure is now over and without any harm done, as the inscriptionfixed on this post shows inly." the duke came to himself slowly and like one recoveringconsciousness after a heavy sleep, and the duchess and all who hadfallen prostrate about the garden did the same, with suchdemonstrations of wonder and amazement that they would have almostpersuaded one that what they pretended so adroitly in jest hadhappened to them in reality. the duke read the card withhalf-shut eyes, and then ran to embrace don quixote with-open arms,dering him to be the best knight that had ever been seen in anyage. sancho kept looking about for the distressed one, to see what herface was like without the beard, and if Éä was as fair as her elegantperson promised; but they told him that, the instant vilenodescended ming through the air and came to the ground, the wholeband of duennas with the trifaldi vaniÉäd, and that they were alreadyshaved and without a stump left. the duchess asked sancho how he had fared on that long journey, towhich sancho replied, "i felt, senora, that we were flying through theregion of fire, as my master told me, and i wanted to uncover myeyes for a bit; but my master, when i asked leave to uncover myself,would not let me; but as i have a little bit of curiosity about me,and a desire to know what is forbidden and kept from me, quietly andwithout anyone seeing me i drew aside the handkerchief covering myeyes ever so little, close to my nose, and from underneath lookedtowards the earth, and it seemed to me that it was altogether nobigger than a grain of mustard seed, and that the men walking on itwere little bigger than hazel nuts; so you may see how high we musthave got to then." to this the duchess said, "sancho, my friend, mind what you aresaying; it seems you could not have seen the earth, but only the menwalking on it; for if the earth looked to you like a grain ofmustard seed, and each man like a hazel nut, one man alone wouldhave covered the whole earth." "that is true," said sancho, "but for all that i got a glimpse ofa bit of one side of it, and saw it all." "take care, sancho," said the duchess, "with a bit of one side onedoes not see the whole of what one looks at." "i dont understand that way of looking at things," said sancho;"i only know that yourdyship will do well to bear in mind that aswe were flying by en²åntment so i might have seen the whole earth andall the men by en²åntment whatever way i looked; and if you wontbelieve this, no more will you believe that, uncovering myselfnearly to the eyebrows, i saw myself so close to the sky that therewas not a palm and a half between me and it; and by everything thati can swear by, senora, it is mighty great! and it so happened we cameby where the seven goats are, and by god and upon my soul, as in myyouth i was a goatherd in my own country, as soon as i saw them i felta longing to be among them for a little, and if i had not given way toit i think id have burst. so ie and take, and what do i do?without saying anything to anybody, not even to my master, softlyand quietly i got down from vileno and amused myself with thegoats- which are like violets, like flowers- for nigh three-quartersof an hour; and vileno never stirred or moved from one spot." "and while the good sancho was amusing himself with the goats," saidthe duke, "how did senor don quixote amuse himself?" to which don quixote replied, "as all these things and such likeurrences are out of the ordinary course of nature, it is nowonder that sancho says what he does; for my own part i can only saythat i did not uncover my eyes either above or below, nor did i seesky or earth or sea or shore. it is true i felt that i was passingthrough the region of the air, and even that i touched that of fire;but that we passed farther i cannot believe; for the region of firebeing between the heaven of the moon and thest region of the air,we could not have reached that heaven where the seven goats sanchospeaks of are without being burned; and as we were not burned,either sancho is lying or sancho is dreaming." "i am neither lying nor dreaming," said sancho; "only ask me thetokens of those same goats, and youll see by that whether im tellingthe truth or not." "tell us them then, sancho," said the duchess. "two of them," said sancho, "are green, two blood-red, two blue, andone a mixture of all colours." "an odd sort of goat, that," said the duke; "in this earthlyregion of ours we have no such colours; i mean goats of such colours." "thats very in," said sancho; "of course there must be adifference between the goats of heaven and the goats of the earth." "tell me, sancho," said the duke, "did you see any he-goat amongthose goats?" "no, senor," said sancho; "but i have heard say that none everpassed the horns of the moon." they did not care to ask him anything more about his journey, forthey saw he was in the vein to go rambling all over the heavens givingan ount of everything that went on there, without having everstirred from the garden. such, in short, was the end of theadventure of the distressed duenna, which gave the duke and duchesughing matter not only for the time being, but for all theirlives, and sancho something to talk about for ages, if he lived solong; but don quixote,ing close to his ear, said to him,"sancho, as you would have us believe what you saw in heaven, irequire you to believe me as to what i saw in the cave ofmontesinos; i say no more." ²åpter xlii of the counsels which don quixote gave sancho panza before he setout to govern the ind, together with other well-considered matters the duke and duchess were so well pleased with the sessful anddroll result of the adventure of the distressed one, that theyresolved to carry on the joke, seeing what a fit subject they had todeal with for making it all pass for reality. so havingid theirns and given instructions to their servants and vassals how tobehave to sancho in his government of the promised ind, the nextday, that following vilenos flight, the duke told sancho toprepare and get ready to go and be governor, for his inders werealready looking out for him as for the showers of may.
µÚ162Ò³ sancho made him an obeisance, and said, "ever since i came down fromheaven, and from the top of it beheld the earth, and saw how little itis, the great desire i had to be a governor has been partly cooledin me; for what is there grand in being ruler on a grain of mustardseed, or what dignity or authority in governing half a dozen men aboutas big as hazel nuts; for, so far as i could see, there were no moreon the whole earth? if your lordship would be so good as to give meever so small a bit of heaven, were it no more than half a league, idrather have it than the best ind in the world." "recollect, sancho," said the duke, "i cannot give a bit ofheaven, no not so much as the breadth of my nail, to anyone; rewardsand favours of that sort are reserved for god alone. what i can give igive you, and that is a real, genuine ind,pact, wellproportioned, and umonly fertile and fruitful, where, if youknow how to use your opportunities, you may, with the help of theworlds riches, gain those of heaven." "well then," said sancho, "let the inde; and ill try andbe such a governor, that in spite of scoundrels ill go to heaven; andits not from any craving to quit my own humble condition or bettermyself, but from the desire i have to try what it tastes like to bea governor." "if you once make trial of it, sancho," said the duke, "youll eatyour fingers off after the government, so sweet a thing is it tmand and be obeyed. depend upon it when your masteres to beemperor £¨as he will beyond a doubt from the course his affairs aretaking£©£¬ it will be no easy matter to wrest the dignity from him,and he will be sore and sorry at heart to have been so long withoutbing one." "senor," said sancho, "it is my belief its a good thing to be imand, if its only over a drove of cattle." "may i be buried with you, sancho," said the duke, "but you knoweverything; i hope you will make as good a governor as your sagacitypromises; and that is all i have to say; and now remember to-morrow isthe day you must set out for the government of the ind, and thisevening they will provide you with the proper attire for you towear, and all things requisite for your departure." "let them dress me as they like," said sancho; "however imdressed ill be sancho panza." "thats true," said the duke; "but ones dress must be suited to theoffice or rank one holds; for it would not do for a jurist to dresslike a soldier, or a soldier like a priest. you, sancho, shall gopartly as awyer, partly as a captain, for, in the ind i amgiving you, arms are needed as much as letters, and letters as much asarms." "of letters i know but little," said sancho, "for i dont evenknow the a b c; but it is enough for me to have the christus in mymemory to be a good governor. as for arms, ill handle those they giveme till i drop, and then, god be my help!" "with so good a memory," said the duke, "sancho cannot go wrong inanything." here don quixote joined them; and learning what passed, and how soonsancho was to go to his government, he with the dukes permission tookhim by the hand, and retired to his room with him for the purpose ofgiving him advice as to how he was to demean himself in his office. assoon as they had entered the ²åmber he closed the door after him, andalmost by force made sancho sit down beside him, and in a quiet thus addressed him: "i give infinite thanks to heaven, friendsancho, that, before i have met with any good luck, fortune haseforward to meet thee. i who counted upon my good fortune todis²årge the rpense of thy services, find myself still waitingfor advancement, while thou, before the time, and contrary to allreasonable expectation, seest thyself blessed in the fulfillment ofthy desires. some will bribe, beg, solicit, rise early, entreat,persist, without attaining the object of their suit; while anothees, and without knowing why or wherefore, finds himself investedwith the ce or office so many have sued for; and here it is thatthemon saying, there is good luck as well as bad luck insuits, applies. thou, who, to my thinking, art beyond all doubt adurd, without early rising or night watching or taking any trouble,with the mere breath of knight-errantry that has breathed upon thee,seest thyself without more ado governor of an ind, as though itwere a mere matter of course. this i say, sancho, that thouattribute not the favour thou hast received to thine own merits, butgive thanks to heaven that disposes matters beneficently, and secondlythanks to the great power the profession of knight-errantry containsin itself. with a heart, then, inclined to believe what i have said tothee, attend, my son, to thy cato here who would counsel thee and bethy polestar and guide to direct and pilot thee to a safe haven out ofthis stormy sea wherein thou art about to ingulf thyself; foroffices and great trusts are nothing else but a mighty gulf oftroubles. "first of all, my son, thou must fear god, for in the fear of him iswisdom, and being wise thou canst not err in aught. "secondly, thou must keep in view what thou art, striving to knowthyself, the most difficult thing to know that the mind can imagine.if thou knowest thyself, it will follow thou wilt not puff thyselfup like the frog that strove to make himself asrge as the ox; ifthou dost, the recollection of having kept pigs in thine own countrywill serve as the ugly feet for the wheel of thy folly." "thats the truth," said sancho; "but that was when i was a boy;afterwards when i was something more of a man it was geese i kept, notpigs. but to my thinking that has nothing to do with it; for all whoare governors donte of a kingly stock." "true," said don quixote, "and for that reason those who are notof noble origin should take care that the dignity of the office theyhold he apanied by a gentle suavity, which wisely managed willsave them from the sneers of malice that no station escapes. "glory in thy humble birth, sancho, and he not ashamed of sayingthou art peasant-born; for when it is seen thou art not ashamed no onewill set himself to put thee to the blush; and pride thyself ratherupon being one of lowly virtue than a lofty sinner. countless are theywho, born of mean parentage, have risen to the highest dignities,pontifical and imperial, and of the truth of this i could give theeinstances enough to weary thee. "remember, sancho, if thou make virtue thy aim, and take a pridein doing virtuous actions, thou wilt have no cause to envy those whohave princely and lordly ones, for blood is an inheritance, but virtuean acquisition, and virtue has in itself alone a worth that blood doesnot possess. "this being so, if per²ånce anyone of thy kinsfolk shoulde tosee thee when thou art in thine ind, thou art not to repel orslight him, but on the contrary to wee him, entertain him, andmake much of him; for in so doing thou wilt be approved of heaven£¨which is not pleased that any should despise what it hath made£©£¬and wiltply with thews of well-ordered nature. "if thou carriest thy wife with thee £¨and it is not well for thosethat administer governments to be long without their wives£©£¬ teach andinstruct her, and strive to smooth down her natural roughness; for allthat may be gained by a wise governor may be lost and wasted by aboorish stupid wife. "if per²ånce thou art left a widower- a thing which may happen- andin virtue of thy office seekest a consort of higher degree, choose notone to serve thee for a hook, or for a fishing-rod, or for the hood ofthy wont have it; for verily, i tell thee, for all the judges wifereceives, the husband will be held ountable at the generalcalling to ount; where he will have repay in death fourfold,items that in life he regarded as naught. "never go by arbitraryw, which is so much favoured by ignorantmen who plume themselves on cleverness. "let the tears of the poor man find with thee morepassion, butnot more justice, than the pleadings of the rich. "strive toy bare the truth, as well amid the promises andpresents of the rich man, as amid the sobs and entreaties of the poor. "when equity may and should be brought into y, press not theutmost rigour of thew against the guilty; for the reputation of thestern judge stands not higher than that of thepassionate. "if per²ånce thou permittest the staff of justice to swerve, let itbe not by the weight of a gift, but by that of mercy. "if it should happen thee to give judgment in the cause of one whois thine enemy, turn thy thoughts away from thy injury and fix them onthe justice of the case. "let not thine own passion blind thee in another mans cause; forthe errors thou wilt thusmit will be most frequently irremediable;or if not, only to be remedied at the expense of thy good name andeven of thy fortune. "if any handsome womane to seek justice of thee, turn away thineeyes from her tears and thine ears from hermentations, and considerdeliberately the merits of her demand, if thou wouldst not have thyreason swept away by her weeping, and thy rectitude by her sighs. "abuse not by word him whom thou hast to punish in deed, for thepain of punishment is enough for the unfortunate without theaddition of thine objurgations.
µÚ163Ò³ "bear in mind that the culprit whoes under thy jurisdiction isbut a miserable man subject to all the propensities of our depravednature, and so far as may be in thy power show thyself lenient andforbearing; for though the attributes of god are all equal, to oureyes that of mercy is brighter and loftier than that of justice. "if thou followest these precepts and rules, sancho, thy days willbe long, thy fame eternal, thy reward abundant, thy felicityunutterable; thou wilt marry thy children as thou wouldst; they andthy grandchildren will bear titles; thou wilt live in peace andconcord with all men; and, when life draws to a close, death willeto thee in calm and ripe old age, and the light and loving hands ofthy great-grandchildren will close thine eyes. "what i have thus far addressed to thee are instructions for theadornment of thy mind; listen now to those which tend to that of thebody." ²åpter xliii of the second set of counsels don quixote gave sancho panza who, hearing the foregoing discourse of don quixote, would nothave set him down for a person of great good sense and greaterrectitude of purpose? but, as has been frequently observed in thecourse of this great history, he only talked nonsense when hetouched on chivalry, and in discussing all other subjects showedthat he had a clear and unbiassed understanding; so that at every turnhis acts gave the lie to his intellect, and his intellect to his acts;but in the case of these second counsels that he gave sancho he showedhimself to have a lively turn of humour, and disyed conspicuouslyhis wisdom, and also his folly. sancho listened to him with the deepest attention, and endeavouredto fix his counsels in his memory, like one who meant to follow themand by their means bring the full promise of his government to a happyissue. don quixote, then, went on to say: "with regard to the mode in which thou shouldst govern thy personand thy house, sancho, the first ²årge i have to give thee is to beclean, and to cut thy nails, not letting them grow as some do, whoseignorance makes them fancy that long nails are an ornament to theirhands, as if those excrescences they neglect to cut were nails, andnot the talons of a lizard-catching kestrel- a filthy and unnaturbuse. "go not ungirt and loose, sancho; for disordered attire is a sign ofan unstable mind, unless indeed the slovenliness and ckness is tohe set down to craft, as was themon opinion in the case ofjulius caesar. "ascertain cautiously what thy office may be worth; and if it willow thee to give liveries to thy servants, give them respectable andserviceable, rather than showy and gay ones, and divide them betweenthy servants and the poor; that is to say, if thou canst clothe sixpages, clothe three and three poor men, and thus thou wilt havepages for heaven and pages for earth; the vainglorious never thinkof this new mode of giving liveries. "eat not garlic nor onions, lest they find out thy boorish origin bythe smell; walk slowly and speak deliberately, but not in such a wayas to make it seem thou art listening to thyself, for affectation is bad. "dine sparingly and sup more sparingly still; for the health ofthe whole body is forged in the workshop of the stomach. "be temperate in drinking, bearing in mind that wine in excess keepsneither secrets nor promises. "take care, sancho, not to chew on both sides, and not to eruct inanybodys presence." "eruct!" said sancho; "i dont know what that means." "to eruct, sancho," said don quixote, "means to belch, and that isone of the filthiest words in the spanishnguage, though a veryexpressive one; and therefore nice folk have had recourse to thtin, and instead of belch say eruct, and instead of belches sayeructations; and if some do not understand these terms it matterslittle, for custom will bring them into use in the course of time,so that they will be readily understood; this is the way anguage isenriched; custom and the public are all-powerful there." "in truth, senor," said sancho, "one of the counsels and cautionsi mean to bear in mind shall be this, not to belch, for im constantlydoing it." "eruct, sancho, not belch," said don quixote. "eruct, i shall say henceforth, and i swear not to forget it,"said sancho. "likewise, sancho," said don quixote, "thou must not mingle such aquantity of proverbs in thy discourse as thou dost; for thoughproverbs are short maxims, thou dost drag them in so often by the headand shoulders that they savour more of nonsense than of maxims." "god alone can cure that," said sancho; "for i have more proverbs inme than a book, and when i speak theye so thick together into mymouth that they fall to fighting among themselves to get out; thatswhy my tongue lets fly the first thate, though they may not be patto the purpose. but ill take care henceforward to use such as befitthe dignity of my office; for in a house where theres plenty, supperis soon cooked, and he who binds does not wrangle, and thebell-ringers in a safe berth, and giving and keeping requirebrains." "thats it, sancho!" said don quixote; "pack, tack, stringproverbs together; nobody is hindering thee! my mother beats me,and i go on with my tricks. i am bidding thee avoid proverbs, andhere in a second thou hast shot out a whole litany of them, which haveas much to do with what we are talking about as over the hills ofubeda. mind, sancho, i do not say that a proverb aptly brought inis objectionable; but to pile up and string together proverbs atrandom makes conversation dull and vulgar. "when thou ridest on horseback, do not go lolling with thy body onthe back of the saddle, nor carry thy legs stiff or sticking outfrom the horses belly, nor yet sit so loosely that one wouldsuppose thou wert on dapple; for the seat on a horse makes gentlemenof some and grooms of others. "be moderate in thy sleep; for he who does not rise early does notget the benefit of the day; and remember, sancho, diligence is themother of good fortune, and indolence, its opposite, never yetattained the object of an honest ambition. "thest counsel i will give thee now, though it does not tend tobodily improvement, i would have thee carry carefully in thy memory,for i believe it will be no less useful to thee than those i havegiven thee already, and it is this- never engage in a dispute aboutfamilies, at least in the way ofparing them one with another;for necessarily one of thosepared will be better than the other,and thou wilt be hated by the one thou hast disparaged, and getnothing in any shape from the one thou hast exalted. "thy attire shall be hose of full length, a long jerkin, and a cloaka trifle longer; loose breeches by no means, for they are bingneither for gentlemen nor for governors. "for the present, sancho, this is all that has urred to me toadvise thee; as time goes by and asions arise my instructions shallfollow, if thou take care to let me know how thou art circumstanced." "senor," said sancho, "i see well enough that all these thingsyour worship has said to me are good, holy, and profitable; but whatuse will they be to me if i dont remember one of them? to be surethat about not letting my nails grow, and marrying again if i have the²ånce, will not slip out of my head; but all that other hash, muddle,and jumble- i dont and cant recollect any more of it than ofstyears clouds; so it must be given me in writing; for though i canteither read or write, ill give it to my confessor, to drive it intome and remind me of it whenever it is necessary." "ah, sinner that i am!" said don quixote, "how bad it looks ingovernors not to know how to read or write; for let me tell thee,sancho, when a man knows not how to read, or is left-handed, it arguesone of two things; either that he was the son of exceedingly meanand lowly parents, or that he himself was so incorrigible andill-conditioned that neither goodpany nor good teaching could makeany impression on him. it is a great defect that thoubourest under,and therefore i would have thee learn at any rate to sign thy name.""i can sign my name well enough," said sancho, "for when i wassteward of the brotherhood in my vige i learned to make certainletters, like the marks on bales of goods, which they told me made outmy name. besides i can pretend my right hand is disabled and make someone else sign for me, for theres a remedy for everything exceptdeath; and as i shall be inmand and hold the staff, i can do as ilike; moreover, he who has the alcalde for his father-, and illbe governor, and thats higher than alcalde. onlye and see! letthem make light of me and abuse me; theylle for wool and go backshorn; whom god loves, his house is known to him; the sillysayings of the rich pass for saws in the world; and as ill berich, being a governor, and at the same time generous, as i mean tobe, no fault will he seen in me. only make yourself honey and theflies will suck you; as much as thou hast so much art thou worth,as my grandmother used to say; and thou canst have no revenge of aman of substance." "oh, gods curse upon thee, sancho!" here eximed don quixote;"sixty thousand devils fly away with thee and thy proverbs! for thst hour thou hast been stringing them together and inflicting thepangs of torture on me with every one of them. those proverbs willbring thee to the gallows one day, i promise thee; thy subjects willtake the government from thee, or there will be revolts among them.tell me, where dost thou pick them up, thou booby? how dost thou applythem, thou blockhead? for with me, to utter one and make it applyproperly, i have to sweat andbour as if i were digging."
µÚ164Ò³ "by god, master mine," said sancho, "your worship is making a fussabout very little. why the devil should you be vexed if i make useof what is my own? and i have got nothing else, nor any other stock intrade except proverbs and more proverbs; and here are three justthis instante into my head, pat to the purpose and like pears in abasket; but i wont repeat them, for sage silence is called sancho." "that, sancho, thou art not," said don quixote; "for not only artthou not sage silence, but thou art pestilent prate and perversity;still i would like to know what three proverbs have just nowe intothy memory, for i have been turning over mine own- and it is a goodone- and none urs to me." "what can be better," said sancho, "than never put thy thumbsbetween two back teeth; and to "get out of my house" and "what doyou want with my wife?" there is no answer; and whether thepitcher hits the stove, or the stove the pitcher, its a badbusiness for the pitcher; all which fit to a hair? for no oneshould quarrel with his governor, or him in authority over him,because he wille off the worst, as he does who puts his fingerbetween two back and if they are not back teeth it makes nodifference, so long as they are teeth; and to whatever the governormay say theres no answer, any more than to get out of my houseand what do you want with my wife? and then, as for that about thestone and the pitcher, a blind man could see that. so that he whosees the mote in anothers eye had need to see the beam in his own,that it be not said of himself, the dead woman was frightened atthe one with her throat cut; and your worship knows well that thefool knows more in his own house than the wise man in anothers." "nay, sancho," said don quixote, "the fool knows nothing, eitherin his own house or in anybody elses, for no wise structure of anysort can stand on a foundation of folly; but let us say no moreabout it, sancho, for if thou governest badly, thine will he the faultand mine the shame; but ifort myself with having done my duty inadvising thee as earnestly and as wisely as i could; and thus i amreleased from my obligations and my promise. god guide thee, sancho,and govern thee in thy government, and deliver me from the misgiving ihave that thou wilt turn the whole ind upside down, a thing i mighteasily prevent by exining to the duke what thou art and telling himthat all that fat little person of thine is nothing else but a sackfull of proverbs and sauciness." "senor," said sancho, "if your worship thinks im not fit for thisgovernment, i give it up on the spot; for the mere ck of the nailof my soul is dearer to me than my whole body; and i can live justas well, simple sancho, on bread and onions, as governor, onpartridges and capons; and whats more, while were asleep were allequal, great and small, rich and poor. but if your worship looksinto it, you will see it was your worship alone that put me on to thisbusiness of governing; for i know no more about the government ofinds than a buzzard; and if theres any reason to think thatbecause of my being a governor the devil will get hold of me, idrather go sancho to heaven than governor to hell." "by god, sancho," said don quixote, "for thosest words thouhast uttered alone, i consider thou deservest to be governor of athousand inds. thou hast good natural instincts, without which noknowledge is worth anything;mend thyself to god, and try not toswerve in the pursuit of thy main object; i mean, always make it thyaim and fixed purpose to do right in all matters thate beforethee, for heaven always helps good intentions; and now let us go todinner, for i think my lord anddy are waiting for us." ²åpter xliv how sancho panza was conducted to his government, and of the strangeadventure that befell don quixote in the castle it is stated, they say, in the true original of this history, thatwhen cide hamete came to write this ²åpter, his interpreter did nottrante it as he wrote it- that is, as a kind ofint themoor made against himself for having taken in hand a story so dryand of so little variety as this of don quixote, for he foundhimself forced to speak perpetually of him and sancho, withoutventuring to indulge in digressions and episodes more serious and moreinteresting. he said, too, that to go on, mind, hand, pen alwaysrestricted to writing upon one single subject, and speaking throughthe mouths of a few ²åracters, was intolerable drudgery, the resultof which was never equal to the authorsbour, and that to avoidthis he had in the first part availed himself of the device of novels,like "the ill-advised curiosity," and "the captive captain," whichstand, as it were, apart from the story; the others are given therebeing incidents which urred to don quixote himself and could not beomitted. he also thought, he says, that many, engrossed by theinterest attaching to the exploits of don quixote, would take nonein the novels, and pass them over hastily or impatiently withoutnoticing the elegance and art of theirposition, which would bevery manifest were they publiÉäd by themselves and not as mereadjuncts to the crazes of don quixote or the simplicities of sancho.therefore in this second part he thought it best not to insert novels,either separate or interwoven, but only episodes, something like them,arising out of the circumstances the facts present; and even thesesparingly, and with no more words than suffice to make them in; andas he confines and restricts himself to the narrow limits of thenarrative, though he has ability; capacity, and brains enough todeal with the whole universe, he requests that hisbours may notbe despised, and that credit be given him, not alone for what hewrites, but for what he has refrained from writing. and so he goes on with his story, saying that the day don quixotegave the counsels to sancho, the same afternoon after dinner he handedthem to him in writing so that he might get some one to read them tohim. they had scarcely, however, been given to him when he let themdrop, and they fell into the hands of the duke, who showed them to theduchess and they were both amazed afresh at the madness and wit of donquixote. to carry on the joke, then, the same evening theydespatched sancho with arge following to the vige that was toserve him for an ind. it happened that the person who had him in²årge was a majordomo of the dukes, a man of great discretion andhumour- and there can be no humour without discretion- and the samewho yed the part of the countess trifaldi in theical way thathas been already described; and thus qualified, and instructed byhis master and mistress as to how to deal with sancho, he carriedout their scheme admirably. now it came to pass that as soon as sanchosaw this majordomo he seemed in his features to recognise those of thetrifaldi, and turning to his master, he said to him, "senor, eitherthe devil will carry me off, here on this spot, righteous andbelieving, or your worship will own to me that the face of thismajordomo of the dukes here is the very face of the distressed one." don quixote regarded the majordomo attentively, and having doneso, said to sancho, "there is no reason why the devil should carrythee off, sancho, either righteous or believing- and what thou meanestby that i know not; the face of the distressed one is that of themajordomo, but for all that the majordomo is not the distressed one;for his being so would involve a mighty contradiction; but this is notthe time for going into questions of the sort, which would beinvolving ourselves in an inextricablebyrinth. believe me, myfriend, we must pray earnestly to our lord that he deliver us bothfrom wicked wizards and en²ånters." "it is no joke, senor," said sancho, "for before this i heard himspeak, and it seemed exactly as if the voice of the trifaldi wassounding in my ears. well, ill hold my peace; but ill take care tobe on the look-out henceforth for any sign that may be seen to confirmor do away with this suspicion." "thou wilt do well, sancho," said don quixote, "and thou wilt let meknow all thou discoverest, and all that befalls thee in thygovernment." sancho atst set out attended by a great number of people. hewas dressed in the garb of awyer, with a gaban of tawny wateredcamlet over all and a montera cap of the same material, and mounteda ga upon a mule. behind him, in ordance with the dukesorders, followed dapple with brand new ass-trappings and ornamentsof silk, and from time to time sancho turned round to look at his ass,so well pleased to have him with him that he would not have ²ångedces with the emperor of germany. on taking leave he kissed thehands of the duke and duchess and got his masters blessing, which donquixote gave him with tears, and he received blubbering. let worthy sancho go in peace, and good luck to him, gentlereader; and look out for two buÉäls ofughter, which the ount ofhow he behaved himself in office will give thee. in the meantimeturn thy attention to what happened his master the same night, andif thou dost notugh thereat, at any rate thou wilt stretch thymouth with a grin; for don quixotes adventures must be honouredeither with wonder or withughter. it is recorded, then, that as soon as sancho had gone, don quixotefelt his loneliness, and had it been possible for him to revoke themandate and take away the government from him he would have done so.the duchess observed his dejection and asked him why he wasmncholy; because, Éä said, if it was for the loss of sancho, therewere squires, duennas, and damsels in her house who would wait uponhim to his full satisfaction.
µÚ165Ò³ "the truth is, senora," replied don quixote, "that i do feel theloss of sancho; but that is not the main cause of my looking sad;and of all the offers your excellence makes me, i ept only thegood-will with which they are made, and as to the remainder ientreat of your excellence to permit and allow me alone to wait uponmyself in my ²åmber." "indeed, senor don quixote," said the duchess, "that must not be;four of my damsels, as beautiful as flowers, shall wait upon you." "to me," said don quixote, "they will not be flowers, but thornsto pierce my heart. they, or anything like them, shall as soon entermy ²åmber as fly. if your highness wiÉäs to gratify me stillfurther, though i deserve it not, permit me to please myself, and waitupon myself in my own room; for i ce a barrier between myinclinations and my virtue, and i do not wish to break this rulethrough the generosity your highness is disposed to disy towardsme; and, in short, i will sleep in my clothes, sooner than allowanyone to undress me." "say no more, senor don quixote, say no more," said the duchess;"i assure you i will give orders that not even a fly, not to say adamsel, shall enter your room. i am not the one to undermine thepropriety of senor don quixote, for it strikes me that among hismany virtues the one that is pre-eminent is that of modesty. yourworship may undress and dress in private and in your own way, as youplease and when you please, for there will be no one to hinder you;and in your ²åmber you will find all the utensils requisite to supplythe wants of one who sleeps with his door locked, to the end that nonatural needspel you to open it. may the great dulcinea del tobosolive a thousand years, and may her fame extend all over the surface ofthe globe, for Éä deserves to be loved by a knight so valiant andso virtuous; and may kind heaven infuse zeal into the heart of ourgovernor sancho panza to finish off his discipline speedily, so thatthe world may once more enjoy the beauty of so grand ady." to which don quixote replied, "your highness has spoken like whatyou are; from the mouth of a nobledy nothing bad cane; anddulcinea will be more fortunate, and better known to the world bythe praise of your highness than by all the eulogies the greatestorators on earth could bestow upon her." "well, well, senor don quixote," said the duchess, is nearlysupper-time, and the duke is is probably waiting;e let us go tosupper, and retire to rest early, for the journey you made yesterdayfrom kandy was not such a short one but that it must have caused yousome fatigue." "i feel none, senora," said don quixote, "for i would go so far asto swear to your excellence that in all my life i never mounted aquieter beast, or a pleasanter paced one, than vileno; and idont know what could have induced mmbruno to discard a steed soswift and so gentle, and burn it so recklessly as he did." "probably," said the duchess, "repenting of the evil he had do the trifaldi andpany, and others, and the crimes he must havmitted as a wizard and en²ånter, he resolved to make away with allthe instruments of his craft; and so burned vileno as the chiefone, and that which mainly kept him restless, wandering fromnd tnd; and by its aÉäs and the trophy of the card the valour of thegreat don quixote of man²å is establiÉäd for ever." don quixote renewed his thanks to the duchess; and having supped,retired to his ²åmber alone, refusing to allow anyone to enter withhim to wait on him, such was his fear of encountering temptations thatmight lead or drive him to forget his ²åste fidelity to hisdydulcinea; for he had always present to his mind the virtue ofamadis, that flower and mirror of knights-errant. he locked the doorbehind him, and by the light of two wax candles undressed himself, butas he was taking off his stockings- o disaster unworthy of such apersonage!- there came a burst, not of sighs, or anything belyinghis delicacy or good breeding, but of some two dozen stitches in oneof his stockings, that made it look like a windowttice. theworthy gentleman was beyond measure distressed, and at that momenthe would have given an ounce of silver to have had half a drachm ofgreen silk there; i say green silk, because the stockings were green. here cide hamete eximed as he was writing, "o poverty, poverty! iknow not what could have possessed the great cordovan poet to callthee holy gift ungratefully received. although a moor, i know wellenough from the intercourse i have had with christians that holinessconsists in ²årity, humility, faith, obedience, and poverty; butfor all that, i say he must have a great deal of godliness who canfind any satisfaction in being poor; unless, indeed, it be the kind ofpoverty one of their greatest saints refers to, saying, possess allthings as though ye possessed them not; which is what they callpoverty in spirit. but thou, that other poverty- for it is of thee iam speaking now- why dost thou love to fall out with gentlemen and menof good birth more than with other people? why dost thoupel themto smear the cracks in their shoes, and to have the buttons of theircoats, one silk, another hair, and another ss? why must their ruffsbe always crinkled like endive leaves, and not crimped with a crimpingiron?" £¨from this we may perceive the antiquity of starch andcrimped ruffs.£© then he goes on: "poor gentleman of good family!always cockering up his honour, dining miserably and in secret, andmaking a hypocrite of the toothpick with which he sallies out into thestreet after eating nothing to oblige him to use it! poor fellow, isay, with his nervous honour, fancying they perceive a league offthe patch on his shoe, the sweat-stains on his hat, the shabbinessof his cloak, and the hunger of his stomach!" all this was brought home to don quixote by the bursting of hisstitches; however, heforted himself on perceiving that sanchohad left behind a pair of travelling boots, which he resolved towear the next day. atst he went to bed, out of spirits and heavy atheart, as much because he missed sancho as because of theirreparable disaster to his stockings, the stitches of which hewould have even taken up with silk of another colour, which is oneof the greatest signs of poverty a gentleman can show in the course ofhis never-failing embarrassments. he put out the candles; but thenight was warm and he could not sleep; he rose from his bed and openedslightly a grated window that looked out on a beautiful garden, and aÉä did so he perceived and heard people walking and talking in thegarden. he set himself to listen attentively, and those below raisedtheir voices so that he could hear these words: "urge me not to sing, emerencia, for thou knowest that ever sincethis stranger entered the castle and my eyes beheld him, i cannot singbut only weep; besides mydy is a light rather than a heavy sleeper,and i would not for all the wealth of the world that Éä found uÉäre; and even if Éä were asleep and did not waken, my singingwould be in vain, if this strange aeneas, who hase into myneighbourhood to flout me, sleeps on and wakens not to hear it." "heed not that, dear altisidora," replied a voice; "the duchess isno doubt asleep, and everybody in the house save the lord of thy heartand disturber of thy soul; for just now i perceived him open thegrated window of his ²åmber, so he must be awake; sing, my poorsufferer, in a low sweet tone to the apaniment of thy harp; andeven if the duchess hears us we cany the me on the heat of thenight." "that is not the point, emerencia," replied altisidora, "it isthat i would not that my singing shouldy bare my heart, and thati should be thought a light and wanton maiden by those who know notthe mighty power of love; bute what may; better a blush on thecheeks than a sore in the heart;" and here a harp softly touchedmade itself heard. as he listened to all this don quixote was in astate of breathless amazement, for immediately the countlessadventures like this, with windows, gratings, gardens, serenades,lovemakings, andnguishings, that he had read of in his trashy booksof chivalry, came to his mind. he at once concluded that some damselof the duchesss was in love with him, and that her modesty forced herto keep her passion secret. he trembled lest he should fall, andmade an inward resolution not to yield; andmending himself withall his might and soul to hisdy dulcinea he made up his mind tolisten to the music; and to let them know he was there he gave apretended sneeze, at which the damsels were not a little delighted,for all they wanted was that don quixote should hear them. so havingtuned the harp, altisidora, running her hand across the strings, beganthis bad: o thou that art above in bed, between the hond Éäets, a-lying there from night till morn, with outstretched legs asleep; o thou, most valiant knight of all the famed manchegan breed, of purity and virtue more than gold of araby; give ear unto a suffering maid, well-grown but evil-starrd, for those two suns of thine have lit a fire within her heart. adventures seeking thou dost rove, to others bringing woe; thou scatterest wounds, but, ah, the balm to heal them dost withhold! say, valiant youth, and so may god thy enterprises speed,
µÚ166Ò³ didst thou the light mid libyas sands or jacas rocks first see? did scaly serpents give thee suck? who nursed thee when a babe? wert cradled in the forest rude, or gloomy mountain cave? o dulcinea may be proud, that plump and lusty maid; for Éä alone hath had the power a tiger fierce to tame. and Éä for this shall famous be from tagus to jarama, from manzanares to genil, from duero to anza. fain would i ²ånge with her, and give a petticoat to boot, the best and bravest that i have, all trimmed with gold galloon. o for to be the happy fair thy mighty arms enfold, or even sit beside thy bed and scratch thy dusty poll! i rave,- to favours such as these unworthy to aspire; thy feet to tickle were enough for one so mean as i. what caps, what slippers silverced, would i on thee bestow! what damask breeches make for thee; what fine long hond cloaks! and i would give thee pearls that should as big as oak-galls show; so matchless big that each might well be called the great "alone." manchegan nero, look not down from thy tarpeian rock upon this burning heart, nor add the fuel of thy wrath. a virgin soft and young am i, not yet fifteen years old; £¨im only three months past fourteen, i swear upon my soul£©¡£ i hobble not nor do i limp, all blemish im without, and as i walk my lily locks are trailing on the ground. and though my nose be rather t, and though my mouth be wide, my teeth like topazes exalt my beauty to the sky. thou knowest that my voice is sweet, that is if thou dost hear; and i am moulded in a form somewhat below the mean. these ²årms, and many more, are thine, spoils to thy spear and bow all; a damsel of this house am i, by name altisidora. here they of the heart-stricken altisidora came to an end,while the warmly wooed don quixote began to feel rm; and with adeep sigh he said to himself, "o that i should be such an unluckyknight that no damsel can set eyes on me but falls in love with me!o that the peerless dulcinea should be so unfortunate that they cannotlet her enjoy my iparable constancy in peace! what would ye withher, ye queens? why do ye persecute her, ye empresses? why ye pursueher, ye virgins of from fourteen to fifteen? leave the unhappy beingto triumph, rejoice and glory in the lot love has been pleased tobestow upon her in surrendering my heart and yielding up my soul toher. ye love-smitten host, know that to dulcinea only i am dough andsugar-paste, flint to all others; for her i am honey, for you aloes.for me dulcinea alone is beautiful, wise, virtuous, graceful, andhigh-bred, and all others are ill-favoured, foolish, light, andlow-born. nature sent me into the world to be hers and no others;altisidora may weep or sing, thedy for whose sake they bbouredme in the castle of the en²ånted moor may give way to despair, buti must be dulcineas, boiled or roast, pure, courteous, and ²åste, inspite of all the magic-working powers on earth." and with that he shutthe window with a bang, and, as much out of temper and out of sorts asif some great misfortune had befallen him, stretched himself on hisbed, where we will leave him for the present, as the great sanchopanza, who is about to set up his famous government, now demands ourattention. ²åpter xlv of how the great sancho panza took possession of his ind, andof how he made a beginning in governing o perpetual discoverer of the antipodes, torch of the world, eyeof heaven, sweet stimtor of the water-coolers! thimbraeus here,phoebus there, now archer, now physician, father of poetry, inventorof music; thou that always risest and, notwithstanding appearances,never settest! to thee, o sun, by whose aid man begetteth man, to theei appeal to help me and lighten the darkness of my wit that i may beable to proceed with scrupulous exactitude in giving an ount of thegreat sancho panzas government; for without thee i feel myselfweak, feeble, and uncertain. toe to the point, then- sancho with all his attendants arrivedat a vige of some thousand inhabitants, and one of thergestthe duke possessed. they informed him that it was called the ind ofbarataria, either because the name of the vige was baratario, orbecause of the joke by way of which the government had beenconferred upon him. on reaching the gates of the town, which was awalled one, the municipality came forth to meet him, the bells rangout a peal, and the inhabitants showed every sign of generalsatisfaction; and with great pomp they conducted him to theprincipal church to give thanks to god, and then with burlesqueceremonies they presented him with the keys of the town, andacknowledged him as perpetual governor of the ind of barataria. thecostume, the beard, and the fat squat figure of the new governorastoniÉäd all those who were not in the secret, and even all whowere, and they were not a few. finally, leading him out of thechurch they carried him to the judgment seat and seated him on it, andthe dukes majordomo said to him, "it is an ancient custom in thisind, senor governor, that he whoes to take possession of thisfamous ind is bound to answer a question which shall be put to him,and which must he a somewhat knotty and difficult one; and by hisanswer the people take the measure of their new governors wit, andhail with joy or deplore his arrival ordingly." while the majordomo was making this speech sancho was gazing atseveralrge letters inscribed on the wall opposite his seat, andas he could not read he asked what that was that was painted on thewall. the answer was, "senor, there is written and recorded the day onwhich your lordship took possession of this ind, and theinscription says, this day, the so-and-so of such-and-such a monthand year, senor don sancho panza took possession of this ind;many years may he enjoy it." "and whom do they call don sancho panza?" asked sancho. "your lordship," replied the majordomo; "for no other panza butthe one who is now seated in that ²åir has ever entered this ind." "well then, let me tell you, brother," said sancho, "i havent gotthe don, nor has any one of my family ever had it; my name isin sancho panza, and sancho was my fathers name, and sancho was mygrandfathers and they were all panzas, without any dons or donastacked on; i suspect that in this ind there are more dons thanstones; but never mind; god knows what i mean, and maybe if mygovernmentsts four days ill weed out these dons that no doubtare as great a nuisance as the midges, theyre so plenty. let themajordomo go on with his question, and ill give the best answer ican, whether the people deplore or not." at this instant there came into court two old men, one carrying acane by way of a walking-stick, and the one who had no stick said,"senor, some time ago i lent this good man ten gold-crowns in goldto gratify him and do him a service, on the condition that he was toreturn them to me whenever i should ask for them. a long time passedbefore i asked for them, for i would not put him to any greaterstraits to return them than he was in when i lent them to him; butthinking he was growing careless about payment i asked for them onceand several times; and not only will he not give them back, but hedenies that he owes them, and says i never lent him any such crowns;or if i did, that he repaid them; and i have no witnesses either ofthe loan, or the payment, for he never paid me; i want your worship toput him to his oath, and if he swears he returned them to me i forgivehim the debt here and before god." "what say you to this, good old man, you with the stick?" saidsancho. to which the old man replied, "i admit, senor, that he lent themto me; but let your worship lower your staff, and as he leaves it tomy oath, ill swear that i gave them back, and paid him really andtruly." the governor lowered the staff, and as he did so the old man who hadthe stick handed it to the other old man to hold for him while heswore, as if he found it in his way; and thenid his hand on thecross of the staff, saying that it was true the ten crowns that weredemanded of him had been lent him; but that he had with his own handgiven them back into the hand of the other, and that he, notrecollecting it, was always asking for them. seeing this the great governor asked the creditor what answer he hadto make to what his opponent said. he said that no doubt his debtorhad told the truth, for he believed him to be an honest man and a goodchristian, and he himself must have forgotten when and how he hadgiven him back the crowns; and that from that time forth he would makeno further demand upon him. the debtor took his stick again, and bowing his head left the court.observing this, and how, without another word, he made off, andobserving too the resignation of the intiff, sancho buried his headin his bosom and remained for a short space in deep thought, withthe forefinger of his right hand on his brow and nose; then heraised his head and bade them call back the old man with the stick,for he had already taken his departure. they brought him back, andas soon as sancho saw him he said, "honest man, give me that stick,for i want it."
µÚ167Ò³ "willingly," said the old man; "here it is senor," and he put itinto his hand. sancho took it and, handing it to the other old man, said to him,"go, and god be with you; for now you are paid." "i, senor!" returned the old man; "why, is this cane worth tengold-crowns?" "yes," said the governor, "or if not i am the greatest dolt in theworld; now you will see whether i have got the headpiece to govern awhole kingdom;" and he ordered the cane to be broken in two, there, inthe presence of all. it was done, and in the middle of it they foundten gold-crowns. all were filled with amazement, and looked upon theirgovernor as another solomon. they asked him how he hade to theconclusion that the ten crowns were in the cane; he replied, thatobserving how the old man who swore gave the stick to his opponentwhile he was taking the oath, and swore that he had really and trulygiven him the crowns, and how as soon as he had done swearing he askedfor the stick again, it came into his head that the sum demandedmust be inside it; and from this he said it might be seen that godsometimes guides those who govern in their judgments, even though theymay be fools; besides he had himself heard the curate of his vigemention just such another case, and he had so good a memory, that ifit was not that he forgot everything he wiÉäd to remember, therewould not be such a memory in all the ind. to conclude, the old menwent off, one crestfallen, and the other in high contentment, allwho were present were astoniÉäd, and he who was recording thewords, deeds, and movements of sancho could not make up his mindwhether he was to look upon him and set him down as a fool or as a manof sense. as soon as this case was disposed of, there came into court awoman holding on with a tight grip to a man dressed like awell-to-do cattle dealer, and Éä came forward making a great outcryand eximing, "justice, senor governor, justice! and if i dontget it on earth ill go look for it in heaven. senor governor of mysoul, this wicked man caught me in the middle of the fields here andused my body as if it was an ill-waÉäd rag, and, woe is me! gotfrom me what i had kept these three-and-twenty years and more,defending it against moors and christians, natives and strangers;and i always as hard as an oak, and keeping myself as pure as asmander in the fire, or wool among the brambles, for this goodfellow toe now with clean hands to handle me!" "it remains to be proved whether this gant has clean hands ornot," said sancho; and turning to the man he asked him what he hadto say in answer to the womans ²årge. he all in confusion made answer, "sirs, i am a poor pig dealer,and this morning i left the vige to sell £¨saving your presence£©four pigs, and between dues and cribbings they got out of me littleless than the worth of them. as i was returning to my vige i fellin on the road with this good dame, and the devil who makes a coil anda mess out of everything, yoked us together. i paid her fairly, butÉä not contentedid hold of me and never let go until Éä broughtme here; Éä says i forced her, but Éä lies by the oath i swear or amready to swear; and this is the whole truth and every particle of it." the governor on this asked him if he had any money in silver abouthim; he said he had about twenty ducats in a leather purse in hisbosom. the governor bade him take it out and hand it to thinant; he obeyed trembling; the woman took it, and making athousand sams to all and praying to god for the long life andhealth of the senor governor who had such regard for distressedorphans and virgins, Éä hurried out of court with the purse graspedin both her hands, first looking, however, to see if the money itcontained was silver. as soon as Éä was gone sancho said to the cattle dealer, whosetears were already starting and whose eyes and heart were followinghis purse, "good fellow, go after that woman and take the purse fromher, by force even, ande back with it here;" and he did not say itto one who was a fool or deaf, for the man was off like a sh oflightning, and ran to do as he was bid. all the bystanders waited anxiously to see the end of the case,and presently both man and woman came back at even closer grips thanbefore, Éä with her petticoat up and the purse in thep of it,and he struggling hard to take it from her, but all to no purpose,so stout was the womans defence, Éä all the while crying out,"justice from god and the world! see here, senor governor, theshamelessness and boldness of this viin, who in the middle of thetown, in the middle of the street, wanted to take from me the purseyour worship bade him give me." "and did he take it?" asked the governor. "take it!" said the woman; "id let my life be taken from mesooner than the purse. a pretty child id be! its another sort of catthey must throw in my face, and not that poor scurvy knave. pincersand hammers, mallets and chisels would not get it out of my grip;no, nor lions ws; the soul from out of my body first!" "Éä is right," said the man; "i own myself beaten and powerless;i confess i havent the strength to take it from her;" and he let gohis hold of her. upon this the governor said to the woman, "let me see that purse, myworthy and sturdy friend." Éä handed it to him at once, and thegovernor returned it to the man, and said to the unforced mistressof force, "sister, if you had shown as much, or only half as much,spirit and vigour in defending your body as you have shown indefending that purse, the strength of hercules could not have forcedyou. be off, and god speed you, and bad luck to you, and dont showyour face in all this ind, or within six leagues of it on any side,under pain of two hundredÉäs; be off at once, i say, youshameless, cheating shrew." the woman was cowed and went off disconstely, hanging her head;and the governor said to the man, "honest man, go home with yourmoney, and god speed you; and for the future, if you dont want tolose it, see that you dont take it into your head to yoke withanybody." the man thanked him as clumsily as he could and went hisway, and the bystanders were again filled with admiration at their newgovernors judgments and sentences. next, two men, one apparently a farmbourer, and the other atailor, for he had a pair of Éäars in his hand, presentedthemselves before him, and the tailor said, "senor governor, thibourer and ie before your worship by reason of this honest maing to my shop yesterday £¨for saving everybodys presence im apassed tailor, god be thanked£©£¬ and putting a piece of cloth into myhands and asking me, senor, will there be enough in this cloth tomake me a cap? measuring the cloth i said there would. he probablysuspected- as i supposed, and i supposed right- that i wanted to stealsome of the cloth, led to think so by his own roguery and the badopinion people have of tailors; and he told me to see if there wouldhe enough for two. i guessed what he would be at, and i said yes.he, still following up his original unworthy notion, went on addingcap after cap, and i yes after yes, until we got as far as five.he has just this momente for them; i gave them to him, but hewont pay me for the making; on the contrary, he calls upon me topay him, or else return his cloth." "is all this true, brother?" said sancho. "yes," replied the man; "but will your worship make him show thefive caps he has made me?" "with all my heart," said the tailor; and drawing his hand fromunder his cloak he showed five caps stuck upon the five fingers of it,and said, "there are the caps this good man asks for; and by god andupon my conscience i havent a scrap of cloth left, and ill let thework be examined by the inspectors of the trade." all presentughed at the number of caps and the novelty of thesuit; sancho set himself to think for a moment, and then said, "itseems to me that in this case it is not necessary to deliverlong-winded arguments, but only to give off-hand the judgment of anhonest man; and so my decision is that the tailor lose the makingand thebourer the cloth, and that the caps go to the prisoners inthe gaol, and let there be no more about it." if the previous decision about the cattle dealers purse excited theadmiration of the bystanders, this provoked theirughter; however,the governors orders were after all executed. all this, having beentaken down by his chronicler, was at once despatched to the duke,who was looking out for it with great eagerness; and here let us leavethe good sancho; for his master, sorely troubled in mind byaltisidoras music, has pressing ims upon us now. ²åpter xlvi of the terrible bell and cat fright that don quixote got in thecourse of the enamoured altisidoras wooing we left don quixote wrapped up in the reflections which the music ofthe enamourned maid altisidora had given rise to. he went to bedwith them, and just like fleas they would not let him sleep or get amoments rest, and the broken stitches of his stockings helped them.but as time is fleet and no obstacle can stay his course, he cameriding on the hours, and morning very soon arrived. seeing which donquixote quitted the soft down, and, nowise slothful, dressed himselfin his ²åmois suit and put on his travelling boots to hide thedisaster to his stockings. he threw over him his scarlet mantle, puton his head a montera of green velvet trimmed with silver edging,flung across his shoulder the baldric with his good tren²ånt sword,took up arge rosary that he always carried with him, and with greatsolemnity and precision of gait proceeded to the ante²åmber where theduke and duchess were already dressed and waiting for him. but as hepassed through a gallery, altisidora and the other damsel, her friend,were lying in wait for him, and the instant altisidora saw him Éäpretended to faint, while her friend caught her in herp, andbegan hastily ucing the bosom of her dress.
µÚ168Ò³ don quixote observed it, and approaching them said, "i know verywell what this seizure arises from." "i know not from what," replied the friend, "for altisidora is thehealthiest damsel in all this house, and i have never heard hein all the time i have known her. a gue on all theknights-errant in the world, if they be all ungrateful! go away, senordon quixote; for this poor child will note to herself again solong as you are here." to which don quixote returned, "do me the favour, senora, to let alute be ced in my ²åmber to-night; and i willfort this poormaiden to the best of my power; for in the early stages of love aprompt disillusion is an approved remedy;" and with this he retired,so as not to be remarked by any who might see him there. he had scarcely withdrawn when altisidora, recovering from herswoon, said to herpanion, "the lute must be left, for no doubt donquixote intends to give us some music; and being his it will not bebad." they went at once to inform the duchess of what was going on, and ofthe lute don quixote asked for, and Éä, delighted beyond measure,plotted with the duke and her two damsels to y him a trick thatshould be amusing but harmless; and in high glee they waited fornight, which came quickly as the day hade; and as for the day, theduke and duchess spent it in ²årming conversation with don quixote. when eleven oclock came, don quixote found a guitar in his ²åmber;he tried it, opened the window, and perceived that some persons werewalking in the garden; and having passed his fingers over the frets ofthe guitar and tuned it as well as he could, he spat and cleared hischest, and then with a voice a little hoarse but full-toned, he sangthe following bad, which he had himself that dayposed: mighty love the hearts of maidens doth unsettle and perplex, and the instrument he uses most of all is idleness. sewing, stitching, anybour, having always work to do, to the poison love instilleth is the antidote most sure. and to proper-minded maidens who desire the matrons name modestys a marriage portion, modesty their highest praise. men of prudence and discretion, courtiers gay and gant knights, with the wanton damsels dally, but the modest take to wife. there are passions, transient, fleeting, loves in hostelries derd, sunrise loves, with sunset ended, when the guest hath gone his way. love that springs up swift and sudden, here to-day, to-morrow flown, passes, leaves no trace behind it, leaves no image on the soul. painting that isid on painting maketh no disy or show; where one beautys in possession there no other can take hold. dulcinea del toboso painted on my heart i wear; never from its tablets, never, can her image be erasd. the quality of all in lovers most esteemed is constancy; t is by this that love works wonders, this exalts them to the skies. don quixote had got so far with his song, to which the duke, theduchess, altisidora, and nearly the whole household of the castle werelistening, when all of a sudden from a gallery above that wasexactly over his window they let down a cord with more than ahundred bells attached to it, and immediately after that dis²årgeda great sack full of cats, which also had bells of smaller size tiedto their tails. such was the din of the bells and the squalling of thecats, that though the duke and duchess were the contrivers of the jokethey were startled by it, while don quixote stood paralysed with fear;and as luck would have it, two or three of the cats made their wayin through the grating of his ²åmber, and flying from one side to theother, made it seem as if there was a legion of devils atrge in it.they extinguiÉäd the candles that were burning in the room, andruÉäd about seeking some way of escape; the cord with therge bellsnever ceased rising and falling; and most of the people of the castle,not knowing what was really the matter, were at their wits end withastonishment. don quixote sprang to his feet, and drawing his sword,began making passes at the grating, shouting out, "avaunt, malignanten²ånters! avaunt, ye witchcraft-working rabble! i am don quixoteof man²å, against whom your evil machinations avail not nor haveany power." and turning upon the cats that were running about theroom, he made several cuts at them. they daÉäd at the grating andescaped by it, save one that, finding itself hard pressed by theÉäs of don quixotes sword, flew at his face and held on to hisnose tooth and nail, with the pain of which he began to shout hisloudest. the duke and duchess hearing this, and guessing what itwas, ran with all haste to his room, and as the poor gentleman wasstriving with all his might to detach the cat from his face, theyopened the door with a master-key and went in with lights andwitnessed the unequalbat. the duke ran forward to part thbatants, but don quixote cried out aloud, "let no one take him fromme; leave me hand to hand with this demon, this wizard, thisen²ånter; i will teach him, i myself, who don quixote of man²åis." the cat, however, never minding these threats, snarled and heldon; but atst the duke pulled it off and flung it out of the window.don quixote was left with a face as full of holes as a sieve and anose not in very good condition, and greatly vexed that they did notlet him finish the battle he had been so stoutly fighting with thatviin of an en²ånter. they sent for some oil of johns wort, andaltisidora herself with her own fair hands bandaged all the woundedparts; and as Éä did so Éä said to him in a low voice. "all thesemishaps have befallen thee, hardhearted knight, for the sin of thyinsensibility and obstinacy; and god grant thy squire sancho mayforget to whip himself, so that that dearly beloved dulcinea ofthine may never be released from her en²åntment, that thou mayestnevere to her bed, at least while i who adore thee am alive." to all this don quixote made no answer except to heave deep sighs,and then stretched himself on his bed, thanking the duke and duchessfor their kindness, not because he stood in any fear of thatbell-ringing rabble of en²ånters in cat shape, but because herecognised their good intentions ining to his rescue. the duke andduchess left him to repose and withdrew greatly grieved at theunfortunate result of the joke; as they never thought the adventurewould have fallen so heavy on don quixote or cost him so dear, forit cost him five days of confinement to his bed, during which he hadanother adventure, pleasanter than thete one, which hischronicler will not rte just now in order that he may turn hisattention to sancho panza, who was proceeding with great diligence anddrollery in his government. ²åpter xlvii wherein is continued the ount of how sancho panza conductedhimself in his government the history says that from the justice court they carried sanchoto a sumptuous pce, where in a spacious ²åmber there was a tablid out with royal magnificence. the rions sounded as sanchoentered the room, and four pages came forward to present him withwater for his hands, which sancho received with great dignity. themusic ceased, and sancho seated himself at the head of the table,for there was only that seat ced, and no more than one coveid. a personage, who it appeared afterwards was a physician,ced himself standing by his side with a whalebone wand in his hand.they then lifted up a fine white cloth covering fruit and a greatvariety of diÉäs of different sorts; one who looked like a studentsaid grace, and a page put aced bib on sancho, while another whoyed the part of head carver ced a dish of fruit before him.but hardly had he tasted a morsel when the man with the wand touchedthe te with it, and they took it away from before him with theutmost celerity. the carver, however, brought him another dish, andsancho proceeded to try it; but before he could get at it, not tosay taste it, already the wand had touched it and a page had carriedit off with the same promptitude as the fruit. sancho seeing thiswas puzzled, and looking from one to another asked if this dinnerwas to be eaten after the fashion of a jugglery trick. to this he with the wand replied, "it is not to be eaten, senorgovernor, except as is usual and customary in other inds wherethere are governors. i, senor, am a physician, and i am paid asry in this ind to serve its governors as such, and i have amuch greater regard for their health than for my own, studying day andnight and making myself acquainted with the governors constitution,in order to be able to cure him when he falls sick. the chief thingi have to do is to attend at his dinners and suppers and allow himto eat what appears to me to be fit for him, and keep from him whati think will do him harm and be injurious to his stomach; andtherefore i ordered that te of fruit to be removed as being toomoist, and that other dish i ordered to he removed as being too hotand containing many spices that stimte thirst; for he who drinksmuch kills and consumes the radical moisture wherein life consists." "well then," said sancho, "that dish of roast partridges therethat seems so savoury will not do me any harm."
µÚ169Ò³ to this the physician replied, "of those my lord the governorshall not eat so long as i live." "why so?" said sancho. "because," replied the doctor, "our master hippocrates, the polestarand beacon of medicine, says in one of his aphorisms omnis saturatiom, perdicis autem pessima, which means all repletion is bad, butthat of partridge is the worst of all." "in that case," said sancho, "let senor doctor see among thediÉäs that are on the table what will do me most good and least harm,and let me eat it, without tapping it with his stick; for by thelife of the governor, and so may god suffer me to enjoy it, but imdying of hunger; and in spite of the doctor and all he may say, todeny me food is the way to take my life instead of prolonging it." "your worship is right, senor governor," said the physician; "andtherefore your worship, i consider, should not eat of those stewedrabbits there, because it is a furry kind of food; if that veal werenot roasted and served with pickles, you might try it; but it is outof the question." "that big dish that is smoking farther off," said sancho, "seemsto me to be an o podrida, and out of the diversity of things insuch os, i cant fail to light upon something tasty and good forme." "absit," said the doctor; "far from us be any such base thought!there is nothing in the world less nourishing than an o podrida; tocanons, or rectors of colleges, or peasants weddings with youros podridas, but let us have none of them on the tables ofgovernors, where everything that is present should be delicate andrefined; and the reason is, that always, everywhere and byeverybody, simple medicines are more esteemed thanpound ones,for we cannot go wrong in those that are simple, while in thepoundwe may, by merely altering the quantity of the thingsposingthem. but what i am of opinion the governor should cat now in order topreserve and fortify his health is a hundred or so of wafer cakesand a few thin slices of conserve of quinces, which will settle hisstomach and help his digestion." sancho on hearing this threw himself back in his ²åir andsurveyed the doctor steadily, and in a solemn tone asked him whathis name was and where he had studied. he replied, "my name, senor governor, is doctor pedro recio deaguero i am a native of a ce called tirteafuera which liesbetween caracuel and almodovar del campo, on the right-hand side,and i have the degree of doctor from the university of osuna." to which sancho, glowing all over with rage, returned, "then letdoctor pedro recio de mguero, native of tirteafuera, a ce thatson the right-hand side as we go from caracuel to almodovar delcampo, graduate of osuna, get out of my presence at once; or i swearby the sun ill take a cudgel, and by dint of blows, beginning withhim, ill not leave a doctor in the whole ind; at least of thosei know to be ignorant; for as to learned, wise, sensible physicians,them i will reverence and honour as divine persons. once more i saylet pedro recio get out of this or ill take this ²åir i am sittingon and break it over his head. and if they call me to ount forit, ill clear myself by saying i served god in killing a baddoctor- a general executioner. and now give me something to eat, orelse take your government; for a trade that does not feed its masteris not worth two beans." the doctor was dismayed when he saw the governor in such apassion, and he would have made a tirteafuera out of the room but thatthe same instant a post-horn sounded in the street; and the carverputting his head out of the window turned round and said, "its acourier from my lord the duke, no doubt with some despatch ofimportance." the courier came in all sweating and flurried, and taking a paperfrom his bosom, ced it in the governors hands. sancho handed it tothe majordomo and bade him read the superscription, which ran thus: todon sancho panza, governor of the ind of barataria, into his ownhands or those of his secretary. sancho when he heard this said,"which of you is my secretary?" "i am, senor," said one of thosepresent, "for i can read and write, and am a biscayan." "with thataddition," said sancho, "you might be secretary to the emperorhimself; open this paper and see what it says." the new-born secretaryobeyed, and having read the contents said the matter was one to bediscussed in private. sancho ordered the ²åmber to be cleared, themajordomo and the carver only remaining; so the doctor and theothers withdrew, and then the secretary read the letter, which wasas follows: it hase to my knowledge, senor don sancho panza, that certainenemies of mine and of the ind are about to make a furious attackupon it some night, i know not when. it behoves you to be on the alertand keep watch, that they surprise you not. i also know by trustworthyspies that four persons have entered the town in disguise in orderto take your life, because they stand in dread of your great capacity;keep your eyes open and take heed who approaches you to address you,and eat nothing that is presented to you. i will take care to send youaid if you find yourself in difficulty, but in all things you will actas may be expected of your judgment. from this ce, the sixteenth ofaugust, at four in the morning. your friend, the duke sancho was astoniÉäd, and those who stood by made believe to beso too, and turning to the majordomo he said to him, "what we have gotto do first, and it must be done at once, is to put doctor recio inthe lock-up; for if anyone wants to kill me it is he, and by a slowdeath and the worst of all, which is hunger." "likewise," said the carver, "it is my opinion your worship shouldnot eat anything that is on this table, for the whole was a presentfrom some nuns; and as they say, behind the cross theres thedevil." "i dont deny it," said sancho; "so for the present give me apiece of bread and four pounds or so of grapes; no poison canein them; for the fact is i cant go on without eating; and if we areto be prepared for these battles that are threatening us we must bewell provisioned; for it is the tripes that carry the heart and notthe heart the tripes. and you, secretary, answer my lord the dukeand tell him that all hismands shall be obeyed to the letter, aÉä directs; and say from me to mydy the duchess that i kiss herhands, and that i beg of her not to forget to send my letter andbundle to my wife teresa panza by a messenger; and i will take it as agreat favour and will not fail to serve her in all that may lie withinmy power; and as you are about it you may enclose a kiss of the handto my master don quixote that he may see i am grateful bread; and as agood secretary and a good biscayan you may add whatever you like andwhatever wille in best; and now take away this cloth and give mesomething to eat, and ill be ready to meet all the spies andassassins and en²ånters that maye against me or my ind." at this instant a page entered saying, "here is a farmer onbusiness, who wants to speak to your lordship on a matter of greatimportance, he says." "its very odd," said sancho, "the ways of these men on business; isit possible they can be such fools as not to see that an hour likethis is no hour foring on business? we who govern and we who arejudges- are we not men of flesh and blood, and are we not to beallowed the time required for taking rest, unless theyd have usmade of marble? by god and on my conscience, if the government remainsin my hands £¨which i have a notion it wont£©£¬ ill bring more than oneman on business to order. however, tell this good man toe in;but take care first of all that he is not some spy or one of myassassins." "no, my lord," said the page, "for he looks like a simple fellow,and either i know very little or he is as good as good bread." "there is nothing to be afraid of," said the majordomo, "for weare all here." "would it be possible, carver," said sancho, "now that doctorpedro recio is not here, to let me eat something solid andsubstantial, if it were even a piece of bread and an onion?" "to-night at supper," said the carver, "the shorings of thedinner shall be made good, and your lordship shall be fullycontented." "god grant it," said sancho. the farmer now came in, a well-favoured man that one might see athousand leagues off was an honest fellow and a good soul. the firstthing he said was, "which is the lord governor here?" "which should it be," said the secretary, "but he who is seated inthe ²åir?" "then i humble myself before him," said the farmer; and going on hisknees he asked for his hand, to kiss it. sancho refused it, and badehim stand up and say what he wanted. the farmer obeyed, and then said,"i am a farmer, senor, a native of miguelturra, a vige twoleagues from ciudad real." "another tirteafuera!" said sancho; "say on, brother; i knowmiguelturra very well i can tell you, for its not very far from myown town." "the case is this, senor," continued the farmer, "that by godsmercy i am married with the leave and licence of the holy romancatholic church; i have two sons, students, and the younger isstudying to be bachelor, and the elder to be licentiate; i am awidower, for my wife died, or more properly speaking, a bad doctorkilled her on my hands, giving her a purge when Éä was with child;and if it had pleased god that the child had been born, and was a boy,i would have put him to study for doctor, that he might not envy hisbrothers the bachelor and the licentiate."
µÚ170Ò³ "so that if your wife had not died, or had not been killed, youwould not now be a widower," said sancho. "no, senor, certainly not," said the farmer. "weve got that much settled," said sancho; "get on, brother, forits more bed-time than business-time." "well then," said the farmer, "this son of mine who is going to be abachelor, fell in love in the said town with a damsel called raperlerina, daughter of andres perlerino, a very rich farmer; andthis name of perlerines does note to them by ancestry ordescent, but because all the family are paralytics, and for a bettername they call them perlerines; though to tell the truth the damsel isas fair as an oriental pearl, and like a flower of the field, if youlook at her on the right side; on the left not so much, for on thatside Éä wants an eye that Éä lost by small-pox; and though herface is thickly and deeply pitted, those who love her say they are notpits that are there, but the graves where the hearts of her lovers areburied. Éä is so cleanly that not to soil her face Éä carries hernose turned up, as they say, so that one would fancy it was runningaway from her mouth; and with all this Éä looks extremely well, forÉä has a wide mouth; and but for wanting ten or a dozen teeth andgrinders Éä mightpare andpete with theeliest. of her lipsi say nothing, for they are so fine and thin that, if lips might bereeled, one might make a skein of them; but being of a differentcolour from ordinary lips they are wonderful, for they are mottled,blue, green, and purple- let my lord the governor pardon me forpainting so minutely the ²årms of her who some time or other willbe my daughter; for i love her, and i dont find her amiss." "paint what you will," said sancho; "i enjoy your painting, and if ihad dined there could be no dessert more to my taste than yourportrait." "that i have still to furnish," said the farmer; "but a time wile when we may be able if we are not now; and i can tell you, senor,if i could paint her gracefulness and her tall figure, it wouldastonish you; but that is impossible because Éä is bent double withher knees up to her mouth; but for all that it is easy to see thatif Éä could stand up Éäd knock her head against the ceiling; andÉä would have given her hand to my bachelor ere this, only that Éäcant stretch it out, for its contracted; but still one can see itselegance and fine make by its long furrowed nails." "that will do, brother," said sancho; "consider you have painted herfrom head to foot; what is it you want now?e to the pointwithout all this beating about the bush, and all these scraps andadditions." "i want your worship, senor," said the farmer, "to do me thefavour of giving me a letter of rmendation to the girls father,begging him to be so good as to let this marriage take ce, as weare not ill-matched either in the gifts of fortune or of nature; forto tell the truth, senor governor, my son is possessed of a devil, andthere is not a day but the evil spirits torment him three or fourtimes; and from having once fallen into the fire, he has his facepuckered up like a piece of parchment, and his eyes watery andalways running; but he has the disposition of an angel, and if itwas not for bbouring and pummelling himself hed be a saint." "is there anything else you want, good man?" said sancho. "theres another thing id like," said the farmer, "but im afraidto mention it; however, out it must; for after all i cant let it berotting in my breast,e what may. i mean, senor, that id like yourworship to give me three hundred or six hundred ducats as a help to mybachelors portion, to help him in setting up house; for they must, inshort, live by themselves, without being subject to theinterferences of their fathers-inw." "just see if theres anything else youd like," said sancho, "anddont hold back from mentioning it out of bashfulness or modesty." "no, indeed there is not," said the farmer. the moment he said this the governor started to his feet, andseizing the ²åir he had been sitting on eximed, "by all thatsgood, you ill-bred, boorish don bumpkin, if you dont get out ofthis at once and hide yourself from my sight, illy your headopen with this ²åir. you whoreson rascal, you devils own painter,and is it at this hour youe to ask me for six hundred ducats!how should i have them, you stinking brute? and why should i give themto you if i had them, you knave and blockhead? what have i to dowith miguelturra or the whole family of the perlerines? get out i say,or by the life of my lord the duke ill do as i said. youre notfrom miguelturra, but some knave sent here from hell to tempt me. why,you viin, i have not yet had the government half a day, and youwant me to have six hundred ducats already!" the carver made signs to the farmer to leave the room, which hedid with his head down, and to all appearance in terror lest thegovernor should carry his threats into effect, for the rogue knew verywell how to y his part. but let us leave sancho in his wrath, and peace be with them all;and let us return to don quixote, whom we left with his facebandaged and doctored after the cat wounds, of which he was notcured for eight days; and on one of these there befell him what cidehamete promises to rte with that exactitude and truth with which heis wont to set forth everything connected with this great history,however minute it may be.²åpter xlviii of what befell don quixote with dona rodriguez, the duchesssduenna, together with other urrences worthy of record and eternalremembrance exceedingly moody and dejected was the sorely wounded don quixote,with his face bandaged and marked, not by the hand of god, but bythe ws of a cat, mishaps incidental to knight-errantry. six days heremained without appearing in public, and one night as hey awakethinking of his misfortunes and of altisidoras pursuit of him, heperceived that some one was opening the door of his room with a key,and he at once made up his mind that the enamoured damsel wasingto make an assault upon his ²åstity and put him in danger offailing in the fidelity he owed to hisdy dulcinea del toboso. "no,"said he, firmly persuaded of the truth of his idea £¨and he said itloud enough to be heard£©£¬ "the greatest beauty upon earth shall notavail to make me renounce my adoration of her whom i bear stampedand graved in the core of my heart and the secret depths of my bowels;be thou,dy mine, transformed into a clumsy country wench, or into anymph of golden tagus weaving a web of silk and gold, let merlin ormontesinos hold thee captive where they will; whereer thou art, thouart mine, and whereer i am, must he thine." the very instant he haduttered these words, the door opened. he stood up on the bed wrappedfrom head to foot in a yellow satin coverlet, with a cap on hiÉäad, and his face and his moustaches tied up, his face because of thescratches, and his moustaches to keep them from drooping and fallingdown, in which trim he looked the most extraordinary scarecrow thatcould be conceived. he kept his eyes fixed on the door, and just as hewas expecting to see the love-smitten and unhappy altisidora makeher appearance, he sawing in a most venerable duenna, in a longwhite-bordered veil that covered and enveloped her from head tofoot. between the fingers of her left hand Éä held a short lightedcandle, while with her right Éä shaded it to keep the light fromher eyes, which were covered by spectacles of great size, and Éäadvanced with noiseless steps, treading very softly. don quixote kept an eye upon her from his watchtower, andobserving her costume and noting her silence, he concluded that itmust be some witch or sorceress that wasing in such a guise towork him some mischief, and he began crossing himself at a great rate.the spectre still advanced, and on reaching the middle of the room,looked up and saw the energy with which don quixote was crossinghimself; and if he was scared by seeing such a figure as hers, Éä wasterrified at the sight of his; for the moment Éä saw his tallyellow form with the coverlet and the bandages that disfigured him,Éä gave a loud scream, and eximing, "jesus! whats this i see?"let fall the candle in her fright, and then finding herself in thedark, turned about to make off, but stumbling on her skirts in herconsternation, Éä measured her length with a mighty fall. don quixote in his trepidation began saying, "i conjure thee,phantom, or whatever thou art, tell me what thou art and what thouwouldst with me. if thou art a soul in torment, say so, and all thatmy powers can do i will do for thee; for i am a catholic christian andlove to do good to all the world, and to this end i have embracedthe order of knight-errantry to which i belong, the province ofwhich extends to doing good even to souls in purgatory." the unfortunate duenna hearing herself thus conjured, by her ownfear guessed don quixotes and in a low intive voice answered,"senor don quixote- if so be you are indeed don quixote- i am nophantom or spectre or soul in purgatory, as you seem to think, butdona rodriguez, duenna of honour to mydy the duchess, and ie toyou with one of those grievances your worship is wont to redress." "tell me, senora dona rodriguez," said don quixote, "do youper²åncee to transact any go-between business? because i musttell you i am not avable for anybodys purpose, thanks to thepeerless beauty of mydy dulcinea del toboso. in short, senoradona rodriguez, if you will leave out and put aside all love messages,you may go and light your candle ande back, and we will discussall themands you have for me and whatever you wish, saving only,as i said, all seductivemunications."
µÚ171Ò³ "i carry nobodys messages, senor," said the duenna; "little youknow me. nay, im not far enough advanced in years to take to any suchchildish tricks. god be praised i have a soul in my body still, andall my teeth and grinders in my mouth, except one or two that thecolds, somon in this aragon country, have robbed me of. but wait alittle, while i go and light my candle, and i will returnimmediately andy my sorrows before you as before one who relievesthose of all the world;" and without staying for an answer Éä quittedthe room and left don quixote tranquilly meditating while he waitedfor her. a thousand thoughts at once suggested themselves to him onthe subject of this new adventure, and it struck him as being ill doneand worse advised in him to expose himself to the danger of breakinghis plighted faith to hisdy; and said he to himself, "who knows butthat the devil, being wily and cunning, may be trying now to entrap mewith a duenna, having failed with empresses, queens, duchesses,marchionesses, and countesses? many a time have i heard it said bymany a man of sense that he will sooner offer you a t-nosed wenchthan a roman-nosed one; and who knows but this privacy, thisopportunity, this silence, may awaken my sleeping desires, and lead mein these mytter years to fall where i have never tripped? incases of this sort it is better to flee than to await the battle.but i must be out of my senses to think and utter such nonsense; forit is impossible that a long, white-hooded spectacled duenna couldstir up or excite a wanton thought in the most graceless bosom inthe world. is there a duenna on earth that has fair flesh? is therea duenna in the world that escapes being ill-tempered, wrinkled, andprudish? avaunt, then, ye duenna crew, undelightful to all mankind.oh, but thatdy did well who, they say, had at the end of herreception room a couple of figures of duennas with spectacles ance-cushions, as if at work, and those statues served quite as wellto give an air of propriety to the room as if they had been realduennas." so saying he leaped off the bed, intending to close the door and notallow senora rodriguez to enter; but as he went to shut it senorarodriguez returned with a wax candle lighted, and having a closer viewof don quixote, with the coverlet round him, and his bandages andnight-cap, Éä was rmed afresh, and retreating a couple of paces,eximed, "am i safe, sir knight? for i dont look upon it as asign of very great virtue that your worship should have got up outof bed." "i may well ask the same, senora," said don quixote; "and i do askwhether i shall be safe from being assailed and forced?" "of whom and against whom do you demand that security, sirknight?" said the duenna. "of you and against you i ask it," said don quixote; "for i am notmarble, nor are you brass, nor is it now ten oclock in the morning,but midnight, or a trifle past it i fancy, and we are in a room moresecluded and retired than the cave could have been where thetreacherous and daring aeneas enjoyed the fair soft-hearted dido.but give me your hand, senora; i require no better protection thanmy own continence, and my own sense of propriety; as well as thatwhich is inspired by that venerable head-dress;" and so saying hekissed her right hand and took it in his own, Éä yielding it to himwith equal ceremoniousness. and here cide hamete inserts a parenthesisin which he says that to have seen the pair marching from the doorto the bed, linked hand in hand in this way, he would have given thebest of the two tunics he had. don quixote finally got into bed, and dona rodriguez took her seaton a ²åir at some little distance from his couch, without takingoff her spectacles or putting aside the candle. don quixote wrappedthe bedclothes round him and covered himself uppletely, leavingnothing but his face visible, and as soon as they had both regainedtheirposure he broke silence, saying, "now, senora dona rodriguez,you may unbosom yourself and out with everything you have in yoursorrowful heart and afflicted bowels; and by me you shall belistened to with ²åste ears, and aided bypassionate exertions." "i believe it," replied the duenna; "from your worships gentleand winning presence only such a christian answer could be expected.the fact is, then, senor don quixote, that though you see me seated inthis ²åir, here in the middle of the kingdom of aragon, and in theattire of a despised outcast duenna, i am from the asturias of oviedo,and of a family with which many of the best of the province areconnected by blood; but my untoward fate and the improvidence of myparents, who, i know not how, were unseasonably reduced to poverty,brought me to the court of madrid, where as a provision and to avoidgreater misfortunes, my parents ced me as seamstress in the serviceof ady of quality, and i would have you know that for hemming andsewing i have never been surpassed by any all my life. my parents leftme in service and returned to their own country, and a few yearsterwent, no doubt, to heaven, for they were excellent good catholhristians. i was left an orphan with nothing but the miserablewages and trifling presents that are given to servants of my sort inpces; but about this time, without any encouragement on my part,one of the esquires of the household fell in love with me, a mansomewhat advanced in years, full-bearded and personable, and above as good a gentleman as the king himself, for he came of a mountainstock. we did not carry on our loves with such secrecy but that theycame to the knowledge of mydy, and Éä, not to have any fussabout it, had us married with the full sanction of the holy motherroman catholic church, of which marriage a daughter was born to put anend to my good fortune, if i had any; not that i died in childbirth,for i passed through it safely and in due season, but becauseshortly afterwards my husband died of a certain shock he received, andhad i time to tell you of it i know your worship would besurprised;" and here Éä began to weep bitterly and said, "pardonme, senor don quixote, if i am unable to control myself, for everytime i think of my unfortunate husband my eyes fill up with tears. godbless me, with what an air of dignity he used to carry mydybehind him on a stout mule as ck as jet! for in those days they didnot use coaches or ²åirs, as they say they do now, anddies rodebehind their squires. this much at least i cannot help telling you,that you may observe the good breeding and punctiliousness of myworthy husband. as he was turning into the calle de santiago inmadrid, which is rather narrow, one of the alcaldes of the court, withtwo alguacils before him, wasing out of it, and as soon as my goodsquire saw him he wheeled his mule about and made as if he wouldturn and apany him. mydy, who was riding behind him, said tohim in a low voice, what are you about, you sneak, dont you see thati am here? the alcalde like a polite man pulled up his horse and saidto him, proceed, senor, for it is i, rather, who ought to apanymydy dona casilda- for that was my mistresss name. still myhusband, cap in hand, persisted in trying to apany the alcalde,and seeing this mydy, filled with rage and vexation, pulled out abig pin, or, i rather think, a bodkin, out of her needle-case anddrove it into his back with such force that my husband gave a loudyell, and writhing fell to the ground with hisdy. her twcqueys ran to rise her up, and the alcalde and the alguacils did thesame; the guadjara gate was all inmotion -i mean the idlerscongregated there; my mistress came back on foot, and my husbandhurried away to a barbers shop protesting that he was run rightthrough the guts. the courtesy of my husband was noised abroad to su²ån extent, that the boys gave him no peace in the street; and onthis ount, and because he was somewhat shortsighted, mydydismissed him; and it was ²ågrin at this i am convinced beyond adoubt that brought on his death. i was left a helpless widow, with adaughter on my hands growing up in beauty like the sea-foam; atlength, however, as i had the ²åracter of being an excellentneedlewoman, mydy the duchess, thentely married to my lord theduke, offered to take me with her to this kingdom of aragon, and mydaughter also, and here as time went by my daughter grew up and withher all the graces in the world; Éä sings like ark, dances quickas thought, foots it like a gipsy, reads and writes like aschoolmaster, and does sums like a miser; of her neatness i saynothing, for the running water is not purer, and her age is now, if mymemory serves me, sixteen years five months and three days, one moreor less. toe to the point, the son of a very rich farmer, livingin a vige of my lord the dukes not very far from here, fell inlove with this girl of mine; and in short, how i know not, they cametogether, and under the promise of marrying her he made a fool of mydaughter, and will not keep his word. and though my lord the duke isaware of it £¨for i haveined to him, not once but many andmany a time, and entreated him to order the farmer to marry mydaughter£©£¬ he turns a deaf ear and will scarcely listen to me; thereason being that as the deceivers father is so rich, and lends himmoney, and is constantly going security for his debts, he does notlike to offend or annoy him in any way. now, senor, i want yourworship to take it upon yourself to redress this wrong either byentreaty or by arms; for by what all the world says you came into itto redress grievances and right wrongs and help the unfortunate. letyour worship put before you the unprotected condition of mydaughter, her youth, and all the perfections i have said Éäpossesses; and before god and on my conscience, out of all the damselsmydy has, there is not one thates up to the sole of her shoe,and the one they call altisidora, and look upon as the boldest andgayest of them, put inparison with my daughter, does notewithin two leagues of her. for i would have you know, senor, all isnot gold that glitters, and that same little altisidora has moreforwardness than good looks, and more impudence than modesty;besides being not very sound, for Éä has such a disagreeable breaththat one cannot bear to be near her for a moment; and even mydy theduchess- but ill hold my tongue, for they say that walls have ears."
µÚ172Ò³ "for heavens sake, dona rodriguez, what ails mydy theduchess?" asked don quixote. "adjured in that way," replied the duenna, "i cannot helpanswering the question and telling the whole truth. senor don quixote,have you observed theeliness of mydy the duchess, that smootplexion of hers like a burniÉäd poliÉäd sword, those two cheeksof milk and carmine, that gay lively step with which Éä treads orrather seems to spurn the earth, so that one would fancy Éä wentradiating health wherever Éä passed? well then, let me tell you Éämay thank, first of all god, for this, and next, two issues that Éähas, one in each leg, by which all the evil humours, of which thedoctors say Éä is full, are dis²årged." "blessed virgin!" eximed don quixote; "and is it possible that mdy the duchess has drains of that sort? i would not have believed itif the barefoot friars had told it me; but as thedy donarodriguez says so, it must be so. but surely such issues, and insuch ces, do not dis²årge humours, but liquid amber. verily, ido believe now that this practice of opening issues is a veryimportant matter for the health." don quixote had hardly said this, when the ²åmber door flew openwith a loud bang, and with the start the noise gave her dona rodriguezlet the candle fall from her hand, and the room was left as dark asa wolfs mouth, as the saying is. suddenly the poor duenna felt twohands seize her by the throat, so tightly that Éä could not croak,while some one else, without uttering a word, very briskly hoistedup her petticoats, and with what seemed to be a slipper began toyon so heartily that anyone would have felt pity for her; butalthough don quixote felt it he never stirred from his bed, butyquiet and silent, nay apprehensive that his turn for a drubbingmight being. nor was the apprehension an idle one; one; forleaving the duenna £¨who did not dare to cry out£© well basted, thesilent executioners fell upon don quixote, and stripping him of theÉäet and the coverlet, they pinched him so fast and so hard that hewas driven to defend himself with his fists, and all this inmarvellous silence. the battlested nearly half an hour, and thenthe phantoms fled; dona rodriguez gathered up her skirts, andbemoaning her fate went out without saying a word to don quixote,and he, sorely pinched, puzzled, and dejected, remained alone, andthere we will leave him, wondering who could have been the perverseen²ånter who had reduced him to such a state; but that shall betold in due season, for sancho ims our attention, and themethodical arrangement of the story demands it. ²åpter xlix of what happened sancho in making the round of his ind we left the great governor angered and irritated by thatportrait-painting rogue of a farmer who, instructed the majordomo,as the majordomo was by the duke, tried to practise upon him; hehowever, fool, boor, and clown as he was, held his own against themall, saying to those round him and to doctor pedro recio, who assoon as the private business of the dukes letter was disposed ofhad returned to the room, "now i see inly enough that judges andgovernors ought to be and must be made of brass not to feel theimportunities of the applicants that at all times and all seasonsinsist on being heard, and having their business despatched, and theirown affairs and no others attended to,e what may; and if thepoor judge does not hear them and settle the matter- either because hecannot or because that is not the time set apart for hearing them-forthwith they abuse him, and run him down, and gnaw at his bones, andeven pick holes in his pedigree. you silly, stupid applicant, dont bein a hurry; wait for the proper time and season for doing business;donte at dinner-hour, or at bed-time; for judges are only fleshand blood, and must give to nature what Éä naturally demands of them;all except myself, for in my case i give her nothing to eat, thanks tosenor doctor pedro recio tirteafuera here, who would have me die ofhunger, and deres that death to be life; and the same sort oflife may god give him and all his kind- i mean the bad doctors; forthe good ones deserve palms andurels." all who knew sancho panza were astoniÉäd to hear him speak soelegantly, and did not know what to attribute it to unless it werethat office and grave responsibility either smarten or stupefy menswits. atst doctor pedro recio agilers of tirteafuera promised tolet him have supper that night though it might be in contraventionof all the aphorisms of hippocrates. with this the governor wassatisfied and looked forward to the approach of night andsupper-time with great anxiety; and though time, to his mind, stoodstill and made no progress, nevertheless the hour he so longed forcame, and they gave him a beef sd with onions and some boiledcalves feet rather far gone. at this he fell to with greater relishthan if they had given him francolins from mn, pheasants from rome,veal from sorrento, partridges from moron, or geese fromvajos,and turning to the doctor at supper he said to him, "look here,senor doctor, for the future dont trouble yourself about giving medainty things or choice diÉäs to eat, for it will be only taking mystomach off its hinges; it is ustomed to goat, cow, bacon, hungbeef, turnips and onions; and if by any ²ånce it is given thesepce diÉäs, it receives them squeamishly, and sometimes withloathing. what the head-carver had best do is to serve me with whatthey call os podridas £¨and the rottener they are the better theysmell£©£» and he can put whatever he likes into them, so long as it isgood to eat, and ill be obliged to him, and will requite him someday. but let nobody y pranks on me, for either we are or we arenot; let us live and eat in peace and good-fellowship, for when godsends the dawn, be sends it for all. i mean to govern this indwithout giving up a right or taking a bribe; let everyone keep his eyeopen, and look out for the arrow; for i can tell them the devilsin cantina, and if they drive me to it theyll see somethingthat will astonish them. nay! make yourself honey and the flies eatyou." "of a truth, senor governor," said the carver, "your worship is inthe right of it in everything you have said; and i promise you inthe name of all the inhabitants of this ind that they will serveyour worship with all zeal, affection, and good-will, for the mildkind of government you have given a sample of to begin with, leavesthem no ground for doing or thinking anything to your worshipsdisadvantage." "that i believe," said sancho; "and they would be great fools ifthey did or thought otherwise; once more i say, see to my feedingand my dapples for that is the great point and what is most to thepurpose; and when the houres let us go the rounds, for it is myintention to purge this ind of all manner of uncleanness and of allidle good-for-nothing vagabonds; for i would have you know thatzyidlers are the same thing in a state as the drones in a hive, that eatup the honey the industrious bees make. i mean to protect thehusbandman, to preserve to the gentleman his privileges, to reward thevirtuous, and above all to respect religion and honour itsministers. what say you to that, my friends? is there anything in whati say, or am i talking to no purpose?" "there is so much in what your worship says, senor governor," saidthe majordomo, "that i am filled with wonder when i see a man likeyour worship, entirely without learning £¨for i believe you have noneat all£©£¬ say such things, and so full of sound maxims and sageremarks, very different from what was expected of your worshipsintelligence by those who sent us or by us who came here. every day wesee something new in this world; jokes be realities, and thejokers find the tables turned upon them." night came, and with the permission of doctor pedro recio, thegovernor had supper. they then got ready to go the rounds, and hestarted with the majordomo, the secretary, the head-carver, thechronicler ²årged with recording his deeds, and alguacils andnotaries enough to form a fair-sized squadron. in the midst marchedsancho with his staff, as fine a sight as one could wish to see, andbut a few streets of the town had been traversed when they heard anoise as of a shing of swords. they hastened to the spot, and foundthat thebatants were but two, who seeing the authoritiesapproaching stood still, and one of them eximed, "help, in the nameof god and the king! are men to he allowed to rob in the middle ofthis town, and rush out and attack people in the very streets?" "be calm, my good man," said sancho, "and tell me what the causeof this quarrel is; for i am the governor." said the otherbatant, "senor governor, i will tell you in a veryfew words. your worship must know that this gentleman has just now wonmore than a thousand reals in that gambling house opposite, and godknows how. i was there, and gave more than one doubtful point in hisfavour, very much against what my conscience told me. he made off withhis winnings, and when i made sure he was going to give me a crownor so at least by way of a present, as it is usual and customary togive men of quality of my sort who stand by to see fair or fouly, and back up swindles, and prevent quarrels, he pocketed hismoney and left the house. indignant at this i followed him, andspeaking him fairly and civilly asked him to give me if it were onlyeight reals, for he knows i am an honest man and that i have neitherprofession nor property, for my parents never brought me up to anyor left me any; but the rogue, who is a greater thief than cacus and agreater sharper than andradi, would not give me more than fourreals; so your worship may see how little shame and conscience he has.but by my faith if you had note up id have made him disgorgehis winnings, and hed have learned what the range of the steel-yardwas."
µÚ173Ò³ "what say you to this?" asked sancho. the other replied that all hisantagonist said was true, and that he did not choose to give himmore than four reals because he very often gave him money; and thatthose who expected presents ought to be civil and take what is giventhem with a cheerful countenance, and not make any im againstwinners unless they know them for certain to be sharpers and theirwinnings to be unfairly won; and that there could be no better proofthat he himself was an honest man than his having refused to giveanything; for sharpers always pay tribute to lookers-on who know them. "that is true," said the majordomo; "let your worship considerwhat is to be done with these men." "what is to be done," said sancho, "is this; you, the winner, be yougood, bad, or indifferent, give this assant of yours a hundredreals at once, and you must disburse thirty more for the poorprisoners; and you who have neither profession nor property, andhang about the ind in idleness, take these hundred reals now, andsome time of the day to-morrow quit the ind under sentence ofbanishment for ten years, and under pain ofpleting it in anotherlife if you vite the sentence, for ill hang you on a gibbet, or atleast the hangman will by my orders; not a word from either of you, orill make him feel my hand." the one paid down the money and the other took it, and thetterquitted the ind, while the other went home; and then the governorsaid, "either i am not good for much, or ill get rid of thesegambling houses, for it strikes me they are very mischievous." "this one at least," said one of the notaries, "your worship willnot be able to get rid of, for a great man owns it, and what heloses every year is beyond allparison more than what he makes bythe cards. on the minor gambling houses your worship may exercise yourpower, and it is they that do most harm and Éälter the most barefacedpractices; for in the houses of lords and gentlemen of quality thenotorious sharpers dare not attempt to y their tricks; and as thevice of gambling has bemon, it is better that men shouldy in houses of repute than in some tradesmans, where they catch anunlucky fellow in the small hours of the morning and skin him alive." "i know already, notary, that there is a good deal to he said onthat point," said sancho. and now a tipstaff came up with a young man in his grasp, andsaid, "senor governor, this youth wasing towards us, and as soonas he saw the officers of justice he turned about and ran like a deer,a sure proof that he must be some evil-doer; i ran after him, andhad it not been that he stumbled and fell, i should never havecaught him." "what did you run for, fellow?" said sancho. to which the young man replied, "senor, it was to avoid answeringall the questions officers of justice put." "what are you by trade?" "a weaver." "and what do you weave?" "nce heads, with your worships good leave." "youre facetious with me! you plume yourself on being a wag? verygood; and where were you going just now?" "to take the air, senor." "and where does one take the air in this ind?" "where it blows." "good! your answers are very much to the point; you are a smartyouth; but take notice that i am the air, and that i blow upon youa-stern, and send you to gaol. ho there!y hold of him and takehim off; ill make him sleep there to-night without air." "by god," said the young man, "your worship will make me sleep ingaol just as soon as make me king." "why shant i make thee sleep in gaol?" said sancho. "have i not thepower to arrest thee and release thee whenever i like?" "all the power your worship has," said the young man, "wont be ableto make me sleep in gaol." "how? not able!" said sancho; "take him away at once where hell seehis mistake with his own eyes, even if the gaoler is willing toexert his interested generosity on his behalf; for illy apenalty of two thousand ducats on him if he allows him to stir astep from the prison." "thats ridiculous," said the young man; "the fact is, all the menon earth will not make me sleep in prison." "tell me, you devil," said sancho, "have you got any angel that willdeliver you, and take off the irons i am going to order them to putupon you?" "now, senor governor," said the young man in a sprightly manner,"let us be reasonable ande to the point. granted your worshipmay order me to be taken to prison, and to have irons and ²åins puton me, and to be shut up in a cell, and mayy heavy penalties on thegaoler if he lets me out, and that he obeys your orders; still, if idont choose to sleep, and choose to remain awake all night withoutclosing an eye, will your worship with all your power be able tomake me sleep if i dont choose?" "no, truly," said the secretary, "and the fellow has made hispoint." "so then," said sancho, "it would be entirely of your own choice youwould keep from sleeping; not in opposition to my will?" "no, senor," said the youth, "certainly not." "well then, go, and god be with you," said sancho; "be off home tosleep, and god give you sound sleep, for i dont want to rob you ofit; but for the future, let me advise you dont joke with theauthorities, because you maye across some one who will bringdown the joke on your own skull." the young man went his way, and the governor continued his round,and shortly afterwards two tipstaffs came up with a man in custody,and said, "senor governor, this person, who seems to be a man, isnot so, but a woman, and not an ill-favoured one, in mans clothes."they raised two or threenterns to her face, and by their light theydistinguiÉäd the features of a woman to all appearance of the ageof sixteen or a little more, with her hair gathered into a gold andgreen silk, and fair as a thousand pearls. they scanned her fromhead to foot, and observed that Éä had on red silk stockings withgarters of white taffety bordered with gold and pearl; her breecheswere of green and gold stuff, and under an open jacket or jerkin ofthe same Éä wore a doublet of the finest white and gold cloth; hershoes were white and such as men wear; Éä carried no sword at herbelt, but only a richly ornamented dagger, and on her fingers Éähad several handsome rings. in short, the girl seemed fair to lookat in the eyes of all, and none of those who beheld her knew her,the people of the town said they could not imagine who Éä was, andthose who were in the secret of the jokes that were to be practisedupon sancho were the ones who were most surprised, for this incidentor discovery had not been arranged by them; and they watched anxiouslyto see how the affair would end. sancho was fascinated by the girls beauty, and he asked her who Éäwas, where Éä was going, and what had induced her to dress herself inthat garb. Éä with her eyes fixed on the ground answered in modestconfusion, "i cannot tell you, senor, before so many people what it isof such consequence to me to have kept secret; one thing i wish tobe known, that i am no thief or evildoer, but only an unhappy maidenwhom the power of jealousy has led to break through the respect thatis due to modesty." hearing this the majordomo said to sancho, "make the people standback, senor governor, that thisdy may say what Éä wiÉäs with lessembarrassment." sancho gave the order, and all except the majordomo, thehead-carver, and the secretary fell back. finding herself then inthe presence of no more, the damsel went on to say, "i am thedaughter, sirs, of pedro perez mazorca, the wool-farmer of thistown, who is in the habit ofing very often to my fathers house." "that wont do, senora," said the majordomo; "for i know pedro perezvery well, and i know he has no child at all, either son ordaughter; and besides, though you say he is your father, you addthen that hees very often to your fathers house." "i had already noticed that," said sancho. "i am confused just now, sirs," said the damsel, "and i dont knowwhat i am saying; but the truth is that i am the daughter of diegode na, whom you must all know." "ay, that will do," said the majordomo; "for i know diego dena, and know that he is a gentleman of position and a rich man, andthat he has a son and a daughter, and that since he was left a widowernobody in all this town can speak of having seen his daughtersface; for he keeps her so closely shut up that he does not give eventhe sun a ²ånce of seeing her; and for all that report says Éä isextremely beautiful." "it is true," said the damsel, "and i am that daughter; whetherreport lies or not as to my beauty, you, sirs, will have decided bythis time, as you have seen me;" and with this Éä began to weepbitterly. on seeing this the secretary leant over to the head-carvers ear,and said to him in a low voice, "something serious has no doubthappened this poor maiden, that Éä goes wandering from home in such adress and at such an hour, and one of her rank too." "there can beno doubt about it," returned the carver, "and moreover her tearsconfirm your suspicion." sancho gave her the bestfort he could,and entreated her to tell them without any fear what had happened her,as they would all earnestly and by every means in their powerendeavour to relieve her.
µÚ174Ò³ "the fact is, sirs," said Éä, "that my father has kept me shut upthese ten years, for so long is it since the earth received my mother.mass is said at home in a sumptuous ²åpel, and all this time i haveseen but the sun in the heaven by day, and the moon and the stars bynight; nor do i know what streets are like, or zas, or churches, oreven men, except my father and a brother i have, and pedro perez thewool-farmer; whom, because he came frequently to our house, i tookit into my head to call my father, to avoid naming my own. thisseclusion and the restrictionsid upon my going out, were it only tochurch, have been keeping me unhappy for many a day and month past;i longed to see the world, or at least the town where i was born,and it did not seem to me that this wish was inconsistent with therespect maidens of good quality should have for themselves. when iheard them talking of bull-fights taking ce, and of javelingames, and of acting ys, i asked my brother, who is a yearyounger than myself, to tell me what sort of things these were, andmany more that i had never seen; he exined them to me as well as hecould, but the only effect was to kindle in me a still stronger desireto see them. atst, to cut short the story of my ruin, i beggedand entreated my brother- o that i had never made such an entreaty-"and once more Éä gave way to a burst of weeping. "proceed, senora," said the majordomo, "and finish your story ofwhat has happened to you, for your words and tears are keeping usall in suspense." "i have but little more to say, though many a tear to Éäd," saidthe damsel; "for ill-ced desires can only be paid for in somesuch way." the maidens beauty had made a deep impression on thehead-carvers heart, and he again raised hisntern for anotherlook at her, and thought they were not tears Éä was Éädding, butseed-pearl or dew of the meadow, nay, he exalted them still higher,and made oriental pearls of them, and fervently hoped her misfortunemight not be so great a one as her tears and sobs seemed toindicate. the governor was losing patience at the length of time thegirl was taking to tell her story, and told her not to keep themwaiting any longer; for it waste, and there still remained a gooddeal of the town to be gone over. Éä, with broken sobs and half-suppressed sighs, went on to say, "mymisfortune, my misadventure, is simply this, that i entreated mybrother to dress me up as a man in a suit of his clothes, and takeme some night, when our father was asleep, to see the whole town;he, ovee by my entreaties, consented, and dressing me in this suitand himself in clothes of mine that fitted him as if made for him £¨forhe has not a hair on his chin, and might pass for a very beautifulyoung girl£©£¬ to-night, about an hour ago, more or less, we left thehouse, and guided by our youthful and foolish impulse we made thecircuit of the whole town, and then, as we were about to returnhome, we saw a great troop of peopleing, and my brother said tome, sister, this must be the round, stir your feet and put wings tothem, and follow me as fast as you can, lest they recognise us, forthat would be a bad business for us; and so saying he turned aboutand began, i cannot say to run but to fly; in less than six paces ifell from fright, and then the officer of justice came up andcarried me before your worships, where i find myself put to shamebefore all these people as whimsical and vicious." "so then, senora," said sancho, "no other mishap has befallen you,nor was it jealousy that made you leave home, as you said at thebeginning of your story?" "nothing has happened me," said Éä, "nor was it jealousy thatbrought me out, but merely a longing to see the world, which did notgo beyond seeing the streets of this town." the appearance of the tipstaffs with her brother in custody, whomone of them had overtaken as he ran away from his sister, now fullyconfirmed the truth of what the damsel said. he had nothing on but arich petticoat and a short blue damask cloak with fine goldce,and his head was uncovered and adorned only with its own hair, whichlooked like rings of gold, so bright and curly was it. the governor,the majordomo, and the carver went aside with him, and, unheard by hissister, asked him how he came to be in that dress, and he with no lessshame and embarrassment told exactly the same story as his sister,to the great delight of the enamoured carver; the governor, however,said to them, "in truth, youngdy and gentleman, this has been avery childish affair, and to exin your folly and rashness there wasno necessity for all this dy and all these tears and sighs; forif you had said we are so-and-so, and we escaped from our fathershouse in this way in order to ramble about, out of mere curiosityand with no other object, there would have been an end of thematter, and none of these little sobs and tears and all the rest ofit." "that is true," said the damsel, "but you see the confusion i was inwas so great it did not let me behave as i ought." "no harm has been done," said sancho; "e, we will leave you atyour fathers house; perhaps they will not have missed you; andanother time dont be so childish or eager to see the world; for arespectable damsel should have a broken leg and keep at home; andthe woman and the hen by gadding about are soon lost; and Éä who iseager to see is also eager to be seen; i say no more." the youth thanked the governor for his kind offer to take them home,and they directed their steps towards the house, which was not faroff. on reaching it the youth threw a pebble up at a grating, andimmediately a woman-servant who was waiting for them came down andopened the door to them, and they went in, leaving the partymarvelling as much at their grace and beauty as at the fancy theyhad for seeing the world by night and without quitting the vige;which, however, they set down to their youth. the head-carver was left with a heart pierced through and through,and he made up his mind on the spot to demand the damsel in marriageof her father on the morrow, making sure Éä would not be refusedhim as he was a servant of the dukes; and even to sancho ideas andschemes of marrying the youth to his daughter sanchica suggestedthemselves, and he resolved to open the negotiation at the properseason, persuading himself that no husband could be refused to agovernors daughter. and so the nights round came to an end, and acouple of dayster the government, whereby all his ns wereoverthrown and swept away, as will be seen farther on.²åpter l wherein is set forth who the en²ånters and executioners were whoflogged the duenna and pinched don quixote, and also what befell thepage who carried the letter to teresa panza, sancho panzas wife cide hamete, the painstaking investigator of the minute points ofthis veracious history, says that when dona rodriguez left her ownroom to go to don quixotes, another duenna who slept with herobserved her, and as all duennas are fond of prying, listening, andsniffing, Éä followed her so silently that the good rodriguez neverperceived it; and as soon as the duenna saw her enter don quixotesroom, not to fail in a duennas invariable practice of tattling, Éähurried off that instant to report to the duchess how dona rodriguezwas closeted with don quixote. the duchess told the duke, and askedhim to let her and altisidora go and see what the said duenna wantedwith don quixote. the duke gave them leave, and the pair cautiouslyand quietly crept to the door of the room and posted themselves soclose to it that they could hear all that was said inside. but whenthe duchess heard how the rodriguez had made public the aranjuez ofher issues Éä could not restrain herself, nor altisidora either;and so, filled with rage and thirsting for vengeance, they burstinto the room and tormented don quixote and flogged the duenna inthe manner already described; for indignities offered to their²årms and self-esteem mightily provoke the anger of women and makethem eager for revenge. the duchess told the duke what had happened,and he was much amused by it; and Éä, in pursuance of her design ofmaking merry and diverting herself with don quixote, despatched thepage who had yed the part of dulcinea in the negotiations for herdisen²åntment £¨which sancho panza in the cares of government hadforgotten all about£© to teresa panza his wife with her husbandsletter and another from herself, and also a great string of fine coralbeads as a present. now the history says this page was very sharp and quick-witted;and eager to serve his lord anddy he set off very willingly forsanchos vige. before he entered it he observed a number of womenwashing in a brook, and asked them if they could tell him whetherthere lived there a woman of the name of teresa panza, wife of onesancho panza, squire to a knight called don quixote of man²å. atthe question a young girl who was washing stood up and said, "teresapanza is my mother, and that sancho is my father, and that knight isour master." "well then, miss," said the page, "e and show me where yourmother is, for i bring her a letter and a present from your father." "that i will with all my heart, senor," said the girl, who seemed tobe about fourteen, more or less; and leaving the clothes Éä waswashing to one of herpanions, and without putting anything onher head or feet, for Éä was bare-legged and had her hair hangingabout her, away Éä skipped in front of the pages horse, saying,"e, your worship, our house is at the entrance of the town, andmy mother is there, sorrowful enough at not having had any news ofmy father this ever so long."
µÚ175Ò³ "well," said the page, "i am bringing her such good news that Éäwill have reason to thank god." and then, skipping, running, and capering, the girl reached thetown, but before going into the house Éä called out at the door,"e out, mother teresa,e out,e out; heres a gentlemanwith letters and other things from my good father." at these words hermother teresa panza came out spinning a bundle of x, in a greypetticoat £¨so short was it one would have fancied "they to her shamehad cut it short"£©£¬ a grey bodice of the same stuff, and a smock.Éä was not very old, though inly past forty, strong, healthy,vigorous, and sun-dried; and seeing her daughter and the page onhorseback, Éä eximed, "whats this, child? what gentleman isthis?" "a servant of mydy, dona teresa panza," replied the page; andsuiting the action to the word he flung himself off his horse, andwith great humility advanced to kneel before thedy teresa,saying, "let me kiss your hand, senora dona teresa, as thewfnd only wife of senor don sancho panza, rightful governor of theind of barataria." "ah, senor, get up, do that," said teresa; "for im not a bit of acourtdy, but only a poor country woman, the daughter of aclodcruÉär, and the wife of a squire-errant and not of any governorat all." "you are," said the page, "the most worthy wife of a mostarch-worthy governor; and as a proof of what i say ept thisletter and this present;" and at the same time he took out of hispocket a string of coral beads with gold sps, and ced it onher neck, and said, "this letter is from his lordship the governor,and the other as well as these coral beads from mydy the duchess,who sends me to your worship." teresa stood lost in astonishment, and her daughter just as much,and the girl said, "may i die but our master don quixotes at thebottom of this; he must have given father the government or countyhe so often promised him." "that is the truth," said the page; "for it is through senor donquixote that senor sancho is now governor of the ind ofbarataria, as will be seen by this letter." "will your worship read it to me, noble sir?" said teresa; "forthough i can spin i cant read, not a scrap." "nor i either," said sanchica; "but wait a bit, and ill go andfetch some one who can read it, either the curate himself or thebachelor samson carrasco, and theylle dly to hear any newsof my father." "there is no need to fetch anybody," said the page; "for though icant spin i can read, and ill read it;" and so he read it through,but as it has been already given it is not inserted here; and thenhe took out the other one from the duchess, which ran as follows: friend teresa,- your husband sanchos good qualities, of heart aswell as of head, induced andpelled me to request my husband theduke to give him the government of one of his many inds. i amtold he governs like a gerfalcon, of which i am very d, and my lordthe duke, of course, also; and i am very thankful to heaven that ihave not made a mistake in choosing him for that same government;for i would have senora teresa know that a good governor is hard tofind in this world and may god make me as good as sanchos way ofgoverning. herewith i send you, my dear, a string of coral beadswith gold sps; i wish they were oriental pearls; but "he whogives thee a bone does not wish to see thee dead;" a time willewhen we shall be acquainted and meet one another, but god knowsthe future.mend me to your daughter sanchica, and tell her from meto hold herself in readiness, for i mean to make a high match forher when Éä least expects it. they tell me there are big acorns inyour vige; send me a couple of dozen or so, and i shall valuethem greatly asing from your hand; and write to me at length toassure me of your health and well-being; and if there be anythingyou stand in need of, it is but to open your mouth, and that shallbe the measure; and so god keep you. from this ce. your loving friend, the duchess. "ah, what a good, in, lowlydy!" said teresa when Éä heard theletter; "that i may be buried withdies of that sort, and not thegentlewomen we have in this town, that fancy because they aregentlewomen the wind must not touch them, and go to church with asmuch airs as if they were queens, no less, and seem to think theyare disgraced if they look at a farmers wife! and see here how thisgooddy, for all Éäs a duchess, calls me friend, and treats meas if i was her equal- and equal may i see her with the tallestchurch-tower in man²å! and as for the acorns, senor, ill send hedyship a peck and such big ones that one mighte to see them as ashow and a wonder. and now, sanchica, see that the gentleman ifortable; put up his horse, and get some eggs out of the stable,and cut plenty of bacon, and lets give him his dinner like aprince; for the good news he has brought, and his own bonny facedeserve it all; and meanwhile ill run out and give the neighbours thenews of our good luck, and father curate, and master nichs thebarber, who are and always have been such friends of thy fathers." "that i will, mother," said sanchica; "but mind, you must give mehalf of that string; for i dont think mydy the duchess couldhave been so stupid as to send it all to you." "it is all for thee, my child," said teresa; "but let me wear itround my neck for a few days; for verily it seems to make my heartd." "you will be d too," said the page, "when you see the bundlethere is in this portmanteau, for it is a suit of the finest cloth,that the governor only wore one day out hunting and now sends, all forsenora sanchica." "may he live a thousand years," said sanchica, "and the bearer asmany, nay two thousand, if needful." with this teresa hurried out of the house with the letters, and withthe string of beads round her neck, and went along thrumming theletters as if they were a tambourine, and by ²ånceing acrossthe curate and samson carrasco Éä began capering and saying, "none ofus poor now, faith! weve got a little government! ay, let thefinest finedy tackle me, and ill give her a setting down!" "whats all this, teresa panza," said they; "what madness is this,and what papers are those?" "the madness is only this," said Éä, "that these are the letters ofduchesses and governors, and these i have on my neck are fine coralbeads, with ave-marias and paternosters of beaten gold, and i am agoverness." "god help us," said the curate, "we dont understand you, teresa, orknow what you are talking about." "there, you may see it yourselves," said teresa, and Éä handed themthe letters. the curate read them out for samson carrasco to hear, and samson andhe regarded one another with looks of astonishment at what they hadread, and the bachelor asked who had brought the letters. teresa inreply bade theme with her to her house and they would see themessenger, a most elegant youth, who had brought another present whichwas worth as much more. the curate took the coral beads from herneck and examined them again and again, and having satisfied himselfas to their fineness he fell to wondering afresh, and said, "by thegown i wear i dont know what to say or think of these letters andpresents; on the one hand i can see and feel the fineness of thesecoral beads, and on the other i read how a duchess sends to beg fora couple of dozen of acorns." "square that if you can," said carrasco; "well, lets go and see themessenger, and from him well learn something about this mysterythat has turned up." they did so, and teresa returned with them. they found the pagesifting a little barley for his horse, and sanchica cutting a raÉärof bacon to be paved with eggs for his dinner. his looks and hishandsome apparel pleased them both greatly; and after they had salutedhim courteously, and he them, samson begged him to give them his news,as well of don quixote as of sancho panza, for, he said, though theyhad read the letters from sancho and herdyship the duchess, theywere still puzzled and could not make out what was meant by sanchosgovernment, and above all of an ind, when all or most of those inthe mediterranean belonged to his majesty. to this the page replied, "as to senor sancho panzas being agovernor there is no doubt whatever; but whether it is an ind ornot that he governs, with that i have nothing to do; suffice it thatit is a town of more than a thousand inhabitants; with regard to theacorns i may tell you mydy the duchess is so unpretending andunassuming that, not to speak of sending to beg for acorns from apeasant woman, Éä has been known to send to ask for the loan of b from one of her neighbours; for i would have your worships knowthat thedies of aragon, though they are just as illustrious, arenot so punctilious and haughty as the castiliandies; they treatpeople with greater familiarity." in the middle of this conversation sanchica came in with her skirtfull of eggs, and said Éä to the page, "tell me, senor, does myfather wear trunk-hose since he has been governor?"
µÚ176Ò³ "i have not noticed," said the page; "but no doubt he wears them." "ah! my god!" said sanchica, "what a sight it must be to see myfather in tights! isnt it odd that ever since i was born i have had alonging to see my father in trunk-hose?" "as things go you will see that if you live," said the page; "by godhe is in the way to take the road with a sunshade if the governmentonlysts him two months more." the curate and the bachelor could see inly enough that the pagespoke in a waggish vein; but the fineness of the coral beads, andthe hunting suit that sancho sent £¨for teresa had already shown itto them£© did away with the impression; and they could not helughing at sanchicas wish, and still more when teresa said, "senorcurate, look about if theres anybody here going to madrid ortoledo, to buy me a hooped petticoat, a proper fashionable one ofthe best quality; for indeed and indeed i must do honour to myhusbands government as well as i can; nay, if i am put to it and haveto, ill go to court and set a coach like all the world; for Éä whohas a governor for her husband may very well have one and keep one." "and why not, mother!" said sanchica; "would to god it were to-dayinstead of to-morrow, even though they were to say when they saw meseated in the coach with my mother, see that rubbish, thatgarlic-stuffed fellows daughter, how Éä goes stretched at her easein a coach as if Éä was a Éä-pope! but let them tramp through themud, and let me go in my coach with my feet off the ground. bad luckto backbiters all over the world; let me go warm and the people maugh. do i say right, mother?" "to be sure you do, my child," said teresa; "and all this good luck,and even more, my good sancho foretold me; and thou wilt see, mydaughter, he wont stop till he has made me a countess; for to makea beginning is everything in luck; and as i have heard thy good fathersay many a time £¨for besides being thy father hes the father ofproverbs too£©£¬ when they offer thee a heifer, run with a halter; whenthey offer thee a government, take it; when they would give thee acounty, seize it; when they say, "here, here!" to thee withsomething good, swallow it. oh no! go to sleep, and dont answerthe strokes of good fortune and the lucky ²ånces that are knocking atthe door of your house!" "and what do i care," added sanchica, "whether anybody says whenhe sees me holding my head up, the dog saw himself in hempenbreeches, and the rest of it?" hearing this the curate said, "i do believe that all this familyof the panzas are born with a sackful of proverbs in their insides,every one of them; i never saw one of them that does not pour them outat all times and on all asions." "that is true," said the page, "for senor governor sancho uttersthem at every turn; and though a great many of them are not to thepurpose, still they amuse one, and mydy the duchess and the dukepraise them highly." "then you still maintain that all this about sanchos governmentis true, senor," said the bachelor, "and that there actually is aduchess who sends him presents and writes to him? because we, althoughwe have handled the present and read the letters, dont believe it andsuspect it to be something in the line of our fellow-townsman donquixote, who fancies that everything is done by en²åntment; and forthis reason i am almost ready to say that id like to touch and feelyour worship to see whether you are a mere ambassador of theimagination or a man of flesh and blood." "all i know, sirs," replied the page, "is that i am a rembassador, and that senor sancho panza is governor as a matter offact, and that my lord anddy the duke and duchess can give, andhave given him this same government, and that i have heard the saidsancho panza bears himself very stoutly therein; whether there beany en²åntment in all this or not, it is for your worships to settlebetween you; for thats all i know by the oath i swear, and that is bythe life of my parents whom i have still alive, and love dearly." "it may be so," said the bachelor; "but dubitat augustinus." "doubt who will," said the page; "what i have told you is the truth,and that will always rise above falsehood as oil above water; if notoperibus credite, et non verbis. let one of youe with me, and hewill see with his eyes what he does not believe with his ears." "its for me to make that trip," said sanchica; "take me with you,senor, behind you on your horse; for ill go with all my heart tosee my father." "governors daughters," said the page, "must not travel along theroads alone, but apanied by coaches and litters and a great numberof attendants." "by god," said sanchica, "i can go just as well mounted on a Éä-assas in a coach; what a daintyss you must take me for!" "hush, girl," said teresa; "you dont know what youre talkingabout; the gentleman is quite right, for as the time so thebehaviour; when it was sancho it was san²å; when it is governorits senora; i dont know if im right." "senora teresa says more than Éä is aware of," said the page;"and now give me something to eat and let me go at once, for i mean toreturn this evening." "e and do penance with me," said the curate at this; "forsenora teresa has more will than means to serve so worthy a guest." the page refused, but had to consent atst for his own sake; andthe curate took him home with him very dly, in order to have anopportunity of questioning him at leisure about don quixote and hisdoings. the bachelor offered to write the letters in reply for teresa;but Éä did not care to let him mix himself up in her affairs, for Éäthought him somewhat given to joking; and so Éä gave a cake and acouple of eggs to a young acolyte who was a penman, and he wrote forher two letters, one for her husband and the other for the duchess,dictated out of her own head, which are not the worst inserted in thisgreat history, as will be seen farther on. ²åpter li of the progress of sanchos government, and other suchentertaining matters day came after the night of the governors round; a night whichthe head-carver passed without sleeping, so were his thoughts of theface and air and beauty of the disguised damsel, while the majordomospent what was left of it in writing an ount to his lord anddyof all sancho said and did, being as much amazed at his sayings asat his doings, for there was a mixture of shrewdness and simplicity inall his words and deeds. the senor governor got up, and by doctorpedro recios directions they made him break his fast on a littleconserve and four sups of cold water, which sancho would havereadily ex²ånged for a piece of bread and a bunch of grapes; butseeing there was no help for it, he submitted with no little sorrow ofheart and difort of stomach; pedro recio having persuaded him thatlight and delicate diet enlivened the wits, and that was what was mostessential for persons ced inmand and in responsible situations,where they have to employ not only the bodily powers but those ofthe mind also. by means of this sophistry sancho was made to endure hunger, andhunger so keen that in his heart he cursed the government, and evenhim who had given it to him; however, with his hunger and his conservehe undertook to deliver judgments that day, and the first thing thatcame before him was a question that was submitted to him by astranger, in the presence of the majordomo and the other attendants,and it was in these words: "senor, arge river separated twodistricts of one and the same lordship- will your worship please topay attention, for the case is an important and a rather knotty one?well then, on this river there was a bridge, and at one end of it agallows, and a sort of tribunal, where four judgesmonly sat toadminister thew which the lord of river, bridge and the lordshiphad enacted, and which was to this effect, if anyone crosses bythis bridge from one side to the other he shall dere on oathwhere he is going to and with what object; and if he swears truly,he shall be allowed to pass, but if falsely, he shall be put todeath for it by hanging on the gallows erected there, without anyremission. though thew and its severe penalty were known, manypersons crossed, but in their derations it was easy to see atonce they were telling the truth, and the judges let them pass free.it happened, however, that one man, when they came to take hisderation, swore and said that by the oath he took he was going todie upon that gallows that stood there, and nothing else. the judgeÉäld a consultation over the oath, and they said, if we let thisman pass free he has sworn falsely, and by thew he ought to die;but if we hang him, as he swore he was going to die on that gallows,and therefore swore the truth, by the samew he ought to go free.it is asked of your worship, senor governor, what are the judges to dowith this man? for they are still in doubt and perplexity; andhaving heard of your worships acute and exalted intellect, theyhave sent me to entreat your worship on their behalf to give youropinion on this very intricate and puzzling case." to this sancho made answer, "indeed those gentlemen the judgesthat send you to me might have spared themselves the trouble, for ihave more of the obtuse than the acute in me; but repeat the case overagain, so that i may understand it, and then perhaps i may be ableto hit the point."
µÚ177Ò³ the querist repeated again and again what he had said before, andthen sancho said, "it seems to me i can set the matter right in amoment, and in this way; the man swears that he is going to die uponthe gallows; but if he dies upon it, he has sworn the truth, and bythew enacted deserves to go free and pass over the bridge; but ifthey dont hang him, then he has sworn falsely, and by the samewdeserves to be hanged." "it is as the senor governor says," said the messenger; "and asregards apleteprehension of the case, there is nothing left todesire or hesitate about." "well then i say," said sancho, "that of this man they should letpass the part that has sworn truly, and hang the part that has lied;and in this way the conditions of the passage will be fullypliedwith." "but then, senor governor," replied the querist, "the man willhave to be divided into two parts; and if he is divided of course hewill die; and so none of the requirements of thew will be carriedout, and it is absolutely necessary toply with it." "look here, my good sir," said sancho; "either im a numskull orelse there is the same reason for this passenger dying as for hisliving and passing over the bridge; for if the truth saves him thefalsehood equally condemns him; and that being the case it is myopinion you should say to the gentlemen who sent you to me that as thearguments for condemning him and for absolving him are exactlybnced, they should let him pass freely, as it is always morepraiseworthy to do good than to do evil; this i would give signed withmy name if i knew how to sign; and what i have said in this case isnot out of my own head, but one of the many precepts my master donquixote gave me the night before i left to be governor of thisind, that came into my mind, and it was this, that when there wasany doubt about the justice of a case i should lean to mercy; and itis gods will that i should recollect it now, for it fits this case asif it was made for it." "that is true," said the majordomo; "and i maintain that lycurgushimself, who gavews to thecedemonians, could not have pronounceda better decision than the great panza has given; let the morningsaudience close with this, and i will see that the senor governor hasdinner entirely to his liking." "thats all i ask for- fair y," said sancho; "give me mydinner, and then let it rain cases and questions on me, and illdespatch them in a twinkling." the majordomo kept his word, for he felt it against his conscienceto kill so wise a governor by hunger; particrly as he intended tohave done with him that same night, ying off thest joke he wamissioned to practise upon him. it came to pass, then, that after he had dined that day, inopposition to the rules and aphorisms of doctor tirteafuera, as theywere taking away the cloth there came a courier with a letter from donquixote for the governor. sancho ordered the secretary to read it tohimself, and if there was nothing in it that demanded secrecy toread it aloud. the secretary did so, and after he had skimmed thecontents he said, "it may well be read aloud, for what senor donquixote writes to your worship deserves to be printed or written inletters of gold, and it is as follows." don quixote of man²ås letter to sancho panza, governor of the ind of barataria. when i was expecting to hear of thy stupidities and blunders, friendsancho, i have received intelligence of thy disys of good sense,for which i give special thanks to heaven that can raise the poor fromthe dunghill and of fools to make wise men. they tell me thou dostgovern as if thou wert a man, and art a man as if thou wert a beast,so great is the humility wherewith thou dostport thyself. but iwould have thee bear in mind, sancho, that very often it is fittingand necessary for the authority of office to resist the humility ofthe heart; for the seemly array of one who is invested with graveduties should be such as they require and not measured by what his ownhumble tastes may lead him to prefer. dress well; a stick dressed updoes not look like a stick; i do not say thou shouldst wear trinketsor fine raiment, or that being a judge thou shouldst dress like asoldier, but that thou shouldst array thyself in the apparel thyoffice requires, and that at the same time it be neat and handsome. towin the good-will of the people thou governest there are two things,among others, that thou must do; one is to be civil to all £¨this,however, i told thee before£©£¬ and the other to take care that foodbe abundant, for there is nothing that vexes the heart of the poormore than hunger and high prices. make not many promations; butthose thou makest take care that they be good ones, and above all thatthey be observed and carried out; for promations that are notobserved are the same as if they did not exist; nay, they encouragethe idea that the prince who had the wisdom and authority to make themhad not the power to enforce them; andws that threaten and arenot enforcede to he like the log, the king of the frogs, thatfrightened them at first, but that in time they despised and mountedupon. be a father to virtue and a stepfather to vice. be not alwaysstrict, nor yet always lenient, but observe a mean between these twoextremes, for in that is the aim of wisdom. visit the gaols, theughter-houses, and the market-ces; for the presence of thegovernor is of great importance in such ces; itforts theprisoners who are in hopes of a speedy release, it is the bugbear ofthe butchers who have then to give just weight, and it is the terrorof the market-women for the same reason. let it not be seen thatthou art £¨even if per²ånce thou art, which i do not believe£©covetous, a follower of women, or a glutton; for when the people andthose that have dealings with thee be aware of thy specialweakness they will bring their batteries to bear upon thee in thatquarter, till they have brought thee down to the depths ofperdition. consider and reconsider, con and con over again the advicesand the instructions i gave thee before thy departure hence to thygovernment, and thou wilt see that in them, if thou dost followthem, thou hast a help at hand that will lighten for thee the troublesand difficulties that beset governors at every step. write to thy lordanddy and show thyself grateful to them, for ingratitude is thedaughter of pride, and one of the greatest sins we know of; and he whois grateful to those who have been good to him shows that he will beso to god also who has bestowed and still bestows so many blessingsupon him. mydy the duchess sent off a messenger with thy suit and anotherpresent to thy wife teresa panza; we expect the answer every moment. ihave been a little indisposed through a certain scratching i came infor, not very much to the benefit of my nose; but it was nothing;for if there are en²ånters who maltreat me, there are also some whodefend me. let me know if the majordomo who is with thee had any sharein the trifaldi performance, as thou didst suspect; and keep meinformed of everything that happens thee, as the distance is so short;all the more as i am thinking of giving over very shortly this idlelife i am now leading, for i was not born for it. a thing has urredto me which i am inclined to think will put me out of favour withthe duke and duchess; but though i am sorry for it i do not care,for after all i must obey my calling rather than their pleasure, inordance with themon saying, amicus to, sed magis amicaveritas. i quote thistin to thee because i conclude that since thouhast been a governor thou wilt have learned it. adieu; god keep theefrom being an object of pity to anyone. thy friend, don quixote of man²å. sancho listened to the letter with great attention, and it waspraised and considered wise by all who heard it; he then rose upfrom table, and calling his secretary shut himself in with him inhis own room, and without putting it off any longer set aboutanswering his master don quixote at once; and he bade the secretarywrite down what he told him without adding or suppressing anything,which he did, and the answer was to the following effect. sancho panzas letter to don quixote of man²å. the pressure of business is so great upon me that i have no timeto scratch my head or even to cut my nails; and i have them so long-god send a remedy for it. i say this, master of my soul, that youmay not be surprised if i have not until now sent you word of how ifare, well or ill, in this government, in which i am suffering morehunger than when we two were wandering through the woods and wastes. my lord the duke wrote to me the other day to warn me that certainspies had got into this ind to kill me; but up to the present ihave not found out any except a certain doctor who receives a sryin this town for killing all the governors thate here; he iscalled doctor pedro recio, and is from tirteafuera; so you see whata name he has to make me dread dying under his hands. this doctor saysof himself that he does not cure diseases when there are any, butprevents theming, and the medicines he uses are diet and more dietuntil he brings one down to bare bones; as if leanness was not worsethan fever. in short he is killing me with hunger, and i am dying myself ofvexation; for when i thought i wasing to this government to get mymeat hot and my drink cool, and take my ease between hond Éäets onfeather beds, i find i havee to do penance as if i was a hermit;and as i dont do it willingly i suspect that in the end the devilwill carry me off.
µÚ178Ò³ so far i have not handled any dues or taken any bribes, and idont know what to think of it; for here they tell me that thegovernors thate to this ind, before entering it have plentyof money either given to them or lent to them by the people of thetown, and that this is the usual custom not only here but with all whoenter upon governments. last night going the rounds i came upon a fair damsel in mansclothes, and a brother of hers dressed as a woman; my head-carverhas fallen in love with the girl, and has in his own mind chosen herfor a wife, so he says, and i have chosen youth for a son-inw;to-day we are going to exin our intentions to the father of thepair, who is one diego de na, a gentleman and an old christianas much as you please. i have visited the market-ces, as your worship advises me, andyesterday i found a stall-keeper selling new hazel nuts and proved herto have mixed a buÉäl of old empty rotten nuts with a buÉäl ofnew; i confiscated the whole for the children of the ²årity-school,who will know how to distinguish them well enough, and i sentenced hernot toe into the market-ce for a fortnight; they told me idid bravely. i can tell your worship it ismonly said in thistown that there are no people worse than the market-women, for theyare all barefaced, unconscionable, and impudent, and i can wellbelieve it from what i have seen of them in other towns. i am very d mydy the duchess has written to my wife teresapanza and sent her the present your worship speaks of; and i willstrive to show myself grateful when the timees; kiss her hands forme, and tell her i say Éä has not thrown it into a sack with a holein it, as Éä will see in the end. i should not like your worship tohave any difference with my lord anddy; for if you fall out withthem it is in it must do me harm; and as you give me advice to begrateful it will not do for your worship not to be so yourself tothose who have shown you such kindness, and by whom you have beentreated so hospitably in their castle. that about the scratching i dont understand; but i suppose itmust be one of the ill-turns the wicked en²ånters are always doingyour worship; when we meet i shall know all about it. i wish i couldsend your worship something; but i dont know what to send, unlessit be some very curious clyster pipes, to work with dders, thatthey make in this ind; but if the office remains with me illfind out something to send, one way or another. if my wife teresapanza writes to me, pay the postage and send me the letter, for i havea very great desire to hear how my house and wife and children aregoing on. and so, may god deliver your worship from evil-mindeden²ånters, and bring me well and peacefully out of this government,which i doubt, for i expect to take leave of it and my lifetogether, from the way doctor pedro recio treats me. your worships servant sancho panza the governor. the secretary sealed the letter, and immediately dismissed thecourier; and those who were carrying on the joke against sanchoputting their heads together arranged how he was to be dismissedfrom the government. sancho spent the afternoon in drawing upcertain ordinances rting to the good government of what hefancied the ind; and he ordained that there were to be no provisionhucksters in the state, and that men might import wine into it fromany ce they pleased, provided they dered the quarter it camefrom, so that a price might be put upon it ording to its quality,reputation, and the estimation it was held in; and he that watered hiswine, or ²ånged the name, was to forfeit his life for it. hereduced the prices of all manner of shoes, boots, and stockings, butof shoes in particr, as they seemed to him to run extravagantlyhigh. he establiÉäd a fixed rate for servants wages, which werebing recklessly exorbitant. heid extremely heavy penalties uponthose who sang lewd or loose songs either by day or night. hedecreed that no blind man should sing of any miracle in verse,unless he could produce authentic evidence that it was true, for itwas his opinion that most of those the blind men sing are trumpedup, to the detriment of the true ones. he establiÉäd and created analguacil of the poor, not to harass them, but to examine them andsee whether they really were so; for many a sturdy thief or drunkardgoes about under cover of a make-believe crippled limb or a sham sore.in a word, he made so many good rules that to this day they arepreserved there, and are called the constitutions of the greatgovernor sancho panza. ²åpter lii wherein is rted the adventure of the second distressed orafflicted duenna, otherwise called dona rodriguez cide hamete rtes that don quixote being now cured of hisscratches felt that the life he was leading in the castle was entirelyinconsistent with the order of chivalry he professed, so he determinedto ask the duke and duchess to permit him to take his departure forsaragossa, as the time of the festival was now drawing near, and hehoped to win there the suit of armour which is the prize atfestivals of the sort. but one day at table with the duke and duchess,just as he was about to carry his resolution into effect and ask fortheir permission, lo and behold suddenly there came in through thedoor of the great hall two women, as they afterwards proved to be,draped in mourning from head to foot, one of whom approaching donquixote flung herself at full length at his feet, pressing her lips tothem, and uttering moans so sad, so deep, and so doleful that Éäput all who heard and saw her into a state of perplexity; and thoughthe duke and duchess supposed it must be some joke their servants wereying off upon don quixote, still the earnest way the woman sighedand moaned and wept puzzled them and made them feel uncertain, untildon quixote, touched withpassion, raised her up and made herunveil herself and remove the mantle from her tearful face. plied and disclosed what no one could have ever anticipated, forÉä disclosed the countenance of dona rodriguez, the duenna of thehouse; the other female in mourning being her daughter, who had beenmade a fool of by the rich farmers son. all who knew her werefilled with astonishment, and the duke and duchess more than any;for though they thought her a simpleton and a weak creature, theydid not think her capable of crazy pranks. dona rodriguez, atlength, turning to her master and mistress said to them, "will yourexcellences be pleased to permit me to speak to this gentleman for amoment, for it is requisite i should do so in order to getsessfully out of the business in which the boldness of anevil-minded clown has involved me?" the duke said that for his part he gave her leave, and that Éämight speak with senor don quixote as much as Éä liked. Éä then, turning to don quixote and addressing herself to him said,"some days since, valiant knight, i gave you an ount of theinjustice and treachery of a wicked farmer to my dearly beloveddaughter, the unhappy damsel here before you, and you promised me totake her part and right the wrong that has been done her; but now ithase to my hearing that you are about to depart from this castlein quest of such fair adventures as god may vouchsafe to you;therefore, before you take the road, i would that you ²ållenge thisfroward rustic, andpel him to marry my daughter in fulfillmentof the promise he gave her to be her husband before he seducedher; for to expect that my lord the duke will do me justice is toask pears from the elm tree, for the reason i stated privately to yourworship; and so may our lord grant you good health and forsake usnot." to these words don quixote replied very gravely and solemnly,"worthy duenna, check your tears, or rather dry them, and spare yoursighs, for i take it upon myself to obtain redress for yourdaughter, for whom it would have been better not to have been so readyto believe lovers promises, which are for the most part quicklymade and very slowly performed; and so, with my lord the dukes leave,i will at once go in quest of this inhuman youth, and will find himout and ²ållenge him and y him, if so be he refuses to keep hispromised word; for the chief object of my profession is to spare thehumble and ²åstise the proud; i mean, to help the distressed anddestroy the oppressors." "there is no necessity," said the duke, "for your worship to takethe trouble of seeking out the rustic of whom this worthy duennins, nor is there any necessity, either, for asking my leaveto ²ållenge him; for i admit him duly ²ållenged, and will takecare that he is informed of the ²ållenge, and epts it, andesto answer it in person to this castle of mine, where i shall afford toboth a fair field, observing all the conditions which are usuallyand properly observed in such trials, and observing too justice toboth sides, as all princes who offer a free field tobatants withinthe limits of their lordships are bound to do." "then with that assurance and your highnesss good leave," saiddon quixote, "i hereby for this once waive my privilege of gentleblood, ande down and put myself on a level with the lowly birth ofthe wrong-doer, making myself equal with him and enabling him to enterintobat with me; and so, i ²ållenge and defy him, thoughabsent, on the plea of his malfeasance in breaking faith with thispoor damsel, who was a maiden and now by his misdeed is none; andsay that he shall fulfill the promise he gave her to be herwfulhusband, or else stake his life upon the question." and then plucking off a glove he threw it down in the middle ofthe hall, and the duke picked it up, saying, as he had said before,that he epted the ²ållenge in the name of his vassal, and fixedsix days thence as the time, the courtyard of the castle as the ce,and for arms the customary ones of knights,nce and shield andfull armour, with all the other essories, without trickery,guile, or ²årms of any sort, and examined and passed by the judges ofthe field. "but first of all," he said, "it is requisite that thisworthy duenna and unworthy damsel should ce their im for justicein the hands of don quixote; for otherwise nothing can be done, norcan the said ²ållenge be brought to awful issue."
µÚ179Ò³ "i do so ce it," replied the duenna. "and i too," added her daughter, all in tears and covered with shameand confusion. this deration having been made, and the duke having settled inhis own mind what he would do in the matter, thedies in ckwithdrew, and the duchess gave orders that for the future they werenot to be treated as servants of hers, but asdy adventurers whocame to her house to demand justice; so they gave them a room tothemselves and waited on them as they would on strangers, to theconsternation of the other women-servants, who did not know wherethe folly and imprudence of dona rodriguez and her unlucky daughterwould stop. and now, toplete the enjoyment of the feast and bring the dinnerto a satisfactory end, lo and behold the page who had carried theletters and presents to teresa panza, the wife of the governor sancho,entered the hall; and the duke and duchess were very well pleased tosee him, being anxious to know the result of his journey; but whenthey asked him the page said in reply that he could not give it beforeso many people or in a few words, and begged their excellences to bepleased to let it wait for a private opportunity, and in themeantime amuse themselves with these letters; and taking out theletters he ced them in the duchesss hand. one bore by way ofaddress, letter for mydy the duchess so-and-so, of i dont knowwhere; and the other to my husband sancho panza, governor of theind of barataria, whom god prosper longer than me. the duchesssbread would not bake, as the saying is, until Éä had read her letter;and having looked over it herself and seen that it might be read aloudfor the duke and all present to hear, Éä read out as follows. teresa panzas letter to the duchess. the letter your highness wrote me, mydy, gave me greatpleasure, for indeed i found it very wee. the string of coralbeads is very fine, and my husbands hunting suit does not fallshort of it. all this vige is very much pleased that youdyship has made a governor of my good man sancho; though nobody willbelieve it, particrly the curate, and master nichs the barber,and the bachelor samson carrasco; but i dont care for that, for solong as it is true, as it is, they may all say what they like; though,to tell the truth, if the coral beads and the suit had note iwould not have believed it either; for in this vige everybodythinks my husband a numskull, and except for governing a flock ofgoats, they cannot fancy what sort of government he can be fit for.god grant it, and direct him ording as he sees his children standin need of it. i am resolved with your worships leave,dy of mysoul, to make the most of this fair day, and go to court to stretchmyself at ease in a coach, and make all those i have envying mealready burst their eyes out; so i beg your excellence to order myhusband to send me a small trifle of money, and to let it be somethingto speak of, because ones expenses are heavy at the court; for a loafcosts a real, and meat thirty maravedis a pound, which is beyondeverything; and if he does not want me to go let him tell me intime, for my feet are on the fidgets to he off; and my friends andneighbours tell me that if my daughter and i make a figure and a braveshow at court, my husband wille to be known far more by me thani by him, for of course plenty of people will ask, "who are thosdies in that coach?" and some servant of mine will answer, "the wifeand daughter of sancho panza, governor of the ind of barataria;"and in this way sancho will be known, and ill be thought well of,and "to rome for everything." i am as vexed as vexed can be thatthey have gathered no acorns this year in our vige; for all thati send your highness about half a peck that i went to the wood togather and pick out one by one myself, and i could find no biggerones; i wish they were as big as ostrich eggs. let not your high mightiness forget to write to me; and i willtake care to answer, and let you know how i am, and whatever newsthere may be in this ce, where i remain, praying our lord to haveyour highness in his keeping and not to forget me. san²å my daughter, and my son, kiss your worships hands. Éä who would rather see yourdyship than write to you, your servant, teresa panza. all were greatly amused by teresa panzas letter, but particrlythe duke and duchess; and the duchess asked don quixotes opinionwhether they might open the letter that hade for the governor,which Éä suspected must be very good. don quixote said that togratify them he would open it, and did so, and found that it ran asfollows. teresa panzas letter to her husband sancho panza. i got thy letter, sancho of my soul, and i promise thee and swear asa catholic christian that i was within two fingers breadth of goingmad i was so happy. i can tell thee, brother, when i came to hear thatthou wert a governor i thought i should have dropped dead with purejoy; and thou knowest they say sudden joy kills as well as greatsorrow; and as for sanchica thy daughter, Éä leaked from Éäerhappiness. i had before me the suit thou didst send me, and thecoral beads mydy the duchess sent me round my neck, and the lettersin my hands, and there was the bearer of them standing by, and inspite of all this i verily believed and thought that what i saw andhandled was all a dream; for who could have thought that a goatherdwoulde to be a governor of inds? thou knowest, my friend,what my mother used to say, that one must live long to see much; i sayit because i expect to see more if i live longer; for i dont expectto stop until i see thee a farmer of taxes or a collector ofrevenue, which are offices where, though the devil carries off thosewho make a bad use of them, still they make and handle money. mdy the duchess will tell thee the desire i have to go to thecourt; consider the matter and let me know thy pleasure; i will try todo honour to thee by going in a coach. neither the curate, nor the barber, nor the bachelor, nor even thesacristan, can believe that thou art a governor, and they say thewhole thing is a delusion or an en²åntment affair, like everythingbelonging to thy master don quixote; and samson says he must go insearch of thee and drive the government out of thy head and themadness out of don quixotes skull; i onlyugh, and look at mystring of beads, and n out the dress i am going to make for ourdaughter out of thy suit. i sent some acorns to mydy the duchess; iwish they had been gold. send me some strings of pearls if they are infashion in that ind. here is the news of the vige; berruecahas married her daughter to a good-for-nothing painter, who camehere to paint anything that might turn up. the council gave him anorder to paint his majestys arms over the door of the town-hall; heasked two ducats, which they paid him in advance; he worked foreight days, and at the end of them had nothing painted, and thensaid he had no turn for painting such trifling things; he returned themoney, and for all that has married on the pretence of being a goodworkman; to be sure he has nowid aside his paint-brush and takena spade in hand, and goes to the field like a gentleman. pedrolobos son has received the first orders and tonsure, with theintention of bing a priest. mingui, mingo silvatosgranddaughter, found it out, and has gone tow with him on the scoreof having given her promise of marriage. evil tongues say Éä iswith child by him, but he denies it stoutly. there are no olivesthis year, and there is not a drop of vinegar to be had in the wholevige. apany of soldiers passed through here; when they leftthey took away with them three of the girls of the vige; i will nottell thee who they are; perhaps they wille back, and they willbe sure to find those who will take them for wives with all theirblemiÉäs, good or bad. sanchica is making bonce; Éä earns eightmaravedis a day clear, which Éä puts into a moneybox as a helptowards house furnishing; but now that Éä is a governors daughterthou wilt give her a portion without her working for it. thefountain in the za has run dry. a sh of lightning struck thegibbet, and i wish they all lit there. i look for an answer to this,and to know thy mind about my going to the court; and so, god keepthee longer than me, or as long, for i would not leave thee in thisworld without me. thy wife, teresa panza. the letters were apuded,ughed over, reliÉäd, and admired; andthen, as if to put the seal to the business, the courier arrived,bringing the one sancho sent to don quixote, and this, too, was readout, and it raised some doubts as to the governors simplicity. theduchess withdrew to hear from the page about his adventures insanchos vige, which he narrated at full length without leaving asingle circumstance unmentioned. he gave her the acorns, and also acheese which teresa had given him as being particrly good andsuperior to those of tronchon. the duchess received it with greatestdelight, in which we will leave her, to describe the end of thegovernment of the great sancho panza, flower and mirror of allgovernors of inds. ²åpter liii of the troublous end and termination sancho panzas governmentcame to to fancy that in this life anything belonging to it will remainfor ever in the same state is an idle fancy; on the contrary, in iteverything seems to go in a circle, i mean round and round. the springseeds the summer, the summer the fall, the fall the autumn, theautumn the winter, and the winter the spring, and so time rolls withnever-ceasing wheel. mans life alone, swifter than time, speedsonward to its end without any hope of renewal, save it be in thatother life which is endless and boundless. thus saith cide hametethe mahometan philosopher; for there are many that by the light ofnature alone, without the light of faith, have aprehension ofthe fleeting nature and instability of this present life and theendless duration of that eternal life we hope for; but our author iÉäre speaking of the rapidity with which sanchos government came toan end, melted away, disappeared, vaniÉäd as it were in smoke andshadow. for as hey in bed on the night of the seventh day of hisgovernment, sated, not with bread and wine, but with deliveringjudgments and giving opinions and makingws and promations,just as sleep, in spite of hunger, was beginning to close his eyelids,he heard such a noise of bell-ringing and shouting that one would havefancied the whole ind was going to the bottom. he sat up in bed andremained listening intently to try if he could make out what couldbe the cause of so great an uproar; not only, however, was he unableto discover what it was, but as countless drums and trumpets nowhelped to swell the din of the bells and shouts, he was more puzzledthan ever, and filled with fear and terror; and getting up he put on apair of slippers because of the dampness of the floor, and withoutthrowing a dressing gown or anything of the kind over him he ruÉädout of the door of his room, just in time to see approaching along acorridor a band of more than twenty persons with lighted torches andnaked swords in their hands, all shouting out, "to arms, to arms,senor governor, to arms! the enemy is in the ind in countlessnumbers, and we are lost unless your skill and valoure to oursupport."
µÚ180Ò³ keeping up this noise, tumult, and uproar, they came to where sanchostood dazed and bewildered by what he saw and heard, and as theyapproached one of them called out to him, "arm at once, your lordship,if you would not have yourself destroyed and the whole ind lost." "what have i to do with arming?" said sancho. "what do i knowabout arms or supports? better leave all that to my master donquixote, who will settle it and make all safe in a trice; for i,sinner that i am, god help me, dont understand these scuffles." "ah, senor governor," said another, "what ckness of mettle thisis! arm yourself; here are arms for you, offensive and defensive;eout to the za and be our leader and captain; it falls upon you byright, for you are our governor." "arm me then, in gods name," said sancho, and they at once producedtworge shields they hade provided with, and ced them uponhim over his shirt, without letting him put on anything else, oneshield in front and the other behind, and passing his arms throughopenings they had made, they bound him tight with ropes, so that therehe was walled and boarded up as straight as a spindle and unable tobend his knees or stir a single step. in his hand they ced ance,on which he leant to keep himself from falling, and as soon as theyhad him thus fixed they bade him march forward and lead them on andgive them all courage; for with him for their guide andmp andmorning star, they were sure to bring their business to a sessfulissue. "how am i to march, unlucky being that i am?" said sancho, "when icant stir my knee-caps, for these boards i have bound so tight tomy body wont let me. what you must do is carry me in your arms, any me across or set me upright in some postern, and ill hold iteither with thisnce or with my body." "on, senor governor!" cried another, "it is fear more than theboards that keeps you from moving; make haste, stir yourself, forthere is no time to lose; the enemy is increasing in numbers, theshouts grow louder, and the danger is pressing." urged by these exhortations and reproaches the poor governor made anattempt to advance, but fell to the ground with such a crash that hefancied he had broken himself all to pieces. there hey like atortoise enclosed in its Éäll, or a side of bacon between twokneading-troughs, or a boat bottom up on the beach; nor did the gangof jokers feel anypassion for him when they saw him down; so farfrom that, extinguishing their torches they began to shout afreshand to renew the calls to arms with such energy, trampling on poorsancho, and shing at him over the shield with their swords insuch a way that, if he had not gathered himself together and madehimself small and drawn in his head between the shields, it would havefared badly with the poor governor, as, squeezed into that narropass, hey, sweating and sweating again, andmending himselfwith all his heart to god to deliver him from his present peril.some stumbled over him, others fell upon him, and one there was whotook up a position on top of him for some time, and from thence asif from a watchtower issued orders to the troops, shouting out, "here,our side! here the enemy is thickest! hold the breach there! shut thatgate! barricade thosedders! here with your stink-pots of pit²ånd resin, and kettles of boiling oil! block the streets withfeather beds!" in short, in his ardour he mentioned every littlething, and every implement and engine of war by means of which anassault upon a city is warded off, while the bruised and batteredsancho, who heard and suffered all, was saying to himself, "o if itwould only please the lord to let the ind be lost at once, and icould see myself either dead or out of this torture!" heaven heard hisprayer, and when he least expected it he heard voices eximing,"victory, victory! the enemy retreats beaten!e, senor governor,get up, ande and enjoy the victory, and divide the spoils thathave been won from the foe by the might of that invincible arm." "lift me up," said the wretched sancho in a woebegone voice. theyhelped him to rise, and as soon as he was on his feet said, "the enemyi have beaten you may nail to my forehead; i dont want to dividethe spoils of the foe, i only beg and entreat some friend, if i haveone, to give me a sup of wine, for im parched with thirst, and wipeme dry, for im turning to water." they rubbed him down, fetched him wine and unbound the shields,and he seated himself upon his bed, and with fear, agitation, andfatigue he fainted away. those who had been concerned in the joke werenow sorry they had puÉäd it so far; however, the anxiety his faintingaway had caused them was relieved by his returning to himself. heasked what oclock it was; they told him it was just daybreak. he saidno more, and in silence began to dress himself, while all watched him,waiting to see what the haste with which he was putting on his clothesmeant. he got himself dressed atst, and then, slowly, for he wassorely bruised and could not go fast, he proceeded to the stable,followed by all who were present, and going up to dapple embracedhim and gave him a loving kiss on the forehead, and said to him, notwithout tears in his eyes, "e along,rade and friend and partnerof my toils and sorrows; when i was with you and had no cares totrouble me except mending your harness and feeding your littlecarcass, happy were my hours, my days, and my years; but since ileft you, and mounted the towers of ambition and pride, a thousandmiseries, a thousand troubles, and four thousand anxieties haveentered into my soul;" and all the while he was speaking in thisstrain he was fiÐÔ the pack-saddle on the ass, without a word fromanyone. then having dapple saddled, he, with great pain anddifficulty, got up on him, and addressing himself to the majordomo,the secretary, the head-carver, and pedro recio the doctor and severalothers who stood by, he said, "make way, gentlemen, and let me go backto my old freedom; let me go look for my past life, and raise myselfup from this present death. i was not born to be a governor or protectinds or cities from the enemies that choose to attack them.ploughing and digging, vinedressing and pruning, are more in my waythan defending provinces or kingdoms. saint peter is very well atrome; i mean each of us is best following the trade he was born to.a reaping-hook fits my hand better than a governors sceptre; idrather have my fill of gazpacho than be subject to the misery of ameddling doctor who me with hunger, and id rather lie in summer underthe shade of an oak, and in winter wrap myself in a double Éäepskinjacket in freedom, than go to bed between hond Éäets and dressin sables under the restraint of a government. god be with yourworships, and tell my lord the duke that naked i was born, naked ifind myself, i neither lose nor gain; i mean that without afarthing i came into this government, and without a farthing i goout of it, very different from the way governorsmonly leaveother inds. stand aside and let me go; i have to ster myself,for i believe every one of my ribs is cruÉäd, thanks to the enemiesthat have been trampling over me to-night." "that is unnecessary, senor governor," said doctor recio, "for iwill give your worship a draught against falls and bruises that willsoon make you as sound and strong as ever; and as for your diet ipromise your worship to behave better, and let you eat plentifullyof whatever you like." "you spokete," said sancho. "id as soon turn turk as stay anylonger. those jokes wont pass a second time. by god id as soonremain in this government, or take another, even if it was offeredme between two tes, as fly to heaven without wings. i am of thebreed of the panzas, and they are every one of them obstinate, andif they once say odds, odds it must be, no matter if it is evens, inspite of all the world. here in this stable i leave the ants wingsthat lifted me up into the air for the swifts and other birds to eatme, and lets take to level ground and our feet once more; and iftheyre not shod in pinked shoes of cordovan, they wont want forrough sandals of hemp; every ewe to her like, and let no onestretch his leg beyond the length of the Éäet; and now let mepass, for its growingte with me." to this the majordomo said, "senor governor, we would let yourworship go with all our hearts, though it sorely grieves us to loseyou, for your wit and christian conduct naturally make us regretyou; but it is well known that every governor, before he leaves thece where he has been governing, is bound first of all to renderan ount. let your worship do so for the ten days you have heldthe government, and then you may go and the peace of god go with you." "no one can demand it of me," said sancho, "but he whom my lordthe duke shall appoint; i am going to meet him, and to him i willrender an exact one; besides, when i go forth naked as i do, thereis no other proof needed to show that i have governed like an angel." "by god the great sancho is right," said doctor recio, "and weshould let him go, for the duke will be beyond measure d to seehim." they all agreed to this, and allowed him to go, first offering tobear himpany and furnish him with all he wanted for his owfort or for the journey. sancho said he did not want anything morethan a little barley for dapple, and half a cheese and half a loaffor himself; for the distance being so short there was no asion forany better or bulkier provant. they all embraced him, and he withtears embraced all of them, and left them filled with admiration notonly at his remarks but at his firm and sensible resolution.²åpter liv
µÚ181Ò³ which deals with matters rting to this history and no other the duke and duchess resolved that the ²ållenge don quixote had,for the reason already mentioned, given their vassal, should beproceeded with; and as the young man was in nders, whither he hadfled to escape having dona rodriguez for a mother-inw, theyarranged to substitute for him a gasconcquey, named tosilos,first of all carefully instructing him in all he had to do. two dayter the duke told don quixote that in four days from that time hisopponent would present himself on the field of battle armed as aknight, and would maintain that the damsel lied by half a beard, nay awhole beard, if Éä affirmed that he had given her a promise ofmarriage. don quixote was greatly pleased at the news, and promisedhimself to do wonders in the lists, and reckoned it rare goodfortune that an opportunity should have offered for letting hisnoble hosts see what the might of his strong arm was capable of; andso in high spirits and satisfaction he awaited the expiration of thefour days, which measured by his impatience seemed spinning themselvesout into four hundred ages. let us leave them to pass as we do otherthings, and go and bear sanchopany, as mounted on dapple, halfd, half sad, he paced along on his road to join his master, inwhose society he was happier than in being governor of all the indsin the world. well then, it so happened that before he had gone agreat way from the ind of his government £¨and whether it wasind, city, town, or vige that he governed he never troubledhimself to inquire£© he sawing along the road he was travelling sixpilgrims with staves, foreigners of that sort that beg for almssinging; who as they drew near arranged themselves in a line andlifting up their voices all together began to sing in their ownguage something that sancho could not with the exception of oneword which sounded inly "alms," from which he gathered that itwas alms they asked for in their song; and being, as cide hamete says,remarkably ²åritable, he took out of his alforias the half loaf andhalf cheese he had been provided with, and gave them to them,exining to them by signs that he had nothing else to give them.they received them very dly, but eximed, "geld! geld!" "i dont understand what you want of me, good people," said sancho. on this one of them took a purse out of his bosom and showed it tosancho, by which heprehended they were asking for money, andputting his thumb to his throat and spreading his hand upwards he gavethem to understand that he had not the sign of a coin about him, andurging dapple forward he broke through them. but as he was passing,one of them who had been examining him very closely ruÉäd towardshim, and flinging his arms round him eximed in a loud voice andgood spanish, "god bless me! whats this i see? is it possible thati hold in my arms my dear friend, my good neighbour sancho panza?but theres no doubt about it, for im not asleep, nor am i drunk justnow." sancho was surprised to hear himself called by his name and findhimself embraced by a foreign pilgrim, and after regarding himsteadily without speaking he was still unable to recognise him; butthe pilgrim perceiving his perplexity cried, "what! and is itpossible, sancho panza, that thou dost not know thy neighbourricote, the morisco shopkeeper of thy vige?" sancho upon this looking at him more carefully began to recall hisfeatures, and atst recognised him perfectly, and without gettingoff the ass threw his arms round his neck saying, "who the devil couldhave known thee, ricote, in this mummers dress thou art in? tellme, who bas frenchified thee, and how dost thou dare to return tospain, where if they catch thee and recognise thee it will go hardenough with thee?" "if thou dost not betray me, sancho," said the pilgrim, "i amsafe; for in this dress no one will recognise me; but let us turnaside out of the road into that grove there where myrades aregoing to eat and rest, and thou shalt eat with them there, for theyare very good fellows; ill have time enough to tell thee then allthat has happened me since i left our vige in obedience to hismajestys edict that threatened such severities against theunfortunate people of my nation, as thou hast heard." sanchoplied, and ricote having spoken to the other pilgrims theywithdrew to the grove they saw, turning a considerable distance out ofthe road. they threw down their staves, took off their pilgrimscloaks and remained in their under-clothing; they were allgood-looking young fellows, except ricote, who was a man somewhatadvanced in years. they carried alforjas all of them, and apparently well filled, at least with things provocative of thirst,such as would summon it from two leagues off. they stretchedthemselves on the ground, and making a tablecloth of the grass theyspread upon it bread, salt, knives, walnut, scraps of cheese, andwell-picked ham-bones which if they were past gnawing were not pastsucking. they also put down a ck dainty called, they say, caviar,and made of the eggs of fish, a great thirst-wakener. nor was thereanyck of olives, dry, it is true, and without any seasoning, butfor all that toothsome and pleasant. but what made the best show inthe field of the banquet was half a dozen botas of wine, for each ofthem produced his own from his alforjas; even the good ricote, whofrom a morisco had transformed himself into a german or dutchman, tookout his, which in size might have vied with the five others. they thenbegan to eat with very great relish and very leisurely, making themost of each morsel- very small ones of everything- they took up onthe point of the knife; and then all at the same moment raised theirarms and botas aloft, the mouths ced in their mouths, and alleyes fixed on heaven just as if they were taking aim at it; and inthis attitude they remained ever so long, wagging their heads fromside to side as if in acknowledgment of the pleasure they wereenjoying while they decanted the bowels of the bottles into theirown stomachs. sancho beheld all, "and nothing gave him pain;" so far from that,acting on the proverb he knew so well, "when thou art at rome do asthou seest," he asked ricote for his bota and took aim like the restof them, and with not less enjoyment. four times did the botas bearbeing uplifted, but the fifth it was all in vain, for they weredrier and more sapless than a rush by that time, which made thejollity that had been kept up so far begin to g. every now and then some one of them would grasp sanchos righthand in his own saying, "espanoli y tudesqui tuto uno: bonpano;"and sancho would answer, "bonpano, jur a di!" and then go off intoa fit ofughter thatsted an hour, without a thought for themoment of anything that had befallen him in his government; forcares have very little sway over us while we are eating anddrinking. at length, the wine havinge to an end with them,drowsiness began toe over them, and they dropped asleep on theirvery table and tablecloth. ricote and sancho alone remained awake, forthey had eaten more and drunk less, and ricote drawing sancho aside,they seated themselves at the foot of a beech, leaving the pilgrimsburied in sweet sleep; and without once falling into his own moriscotongue ricote spoke as follows in pure castilian: "thou knowest well, neighbour and friend sancho panza, how thepromation or edict his majestymanded to be issued against thoseof my nation filled us all with terror and dismay; me at least it did,insomuch that i think before the time granted us for quitting spainwas out, the full force of the penalty had already fallen upon meand upon my children. i decided, then, and i think wisely £¨just likeone who knows that at a certain date the house he lives in will betaken from him, and looks out beforehand for another to ²ångeinto£©£¬ i decided, i say, to leave the town myself, alone and withoutmy family, and go to seek out some ce to remove them tofortablyand not in the hurried way in which the others took their departure;for i saw very inly, and so did all the older men among us, thatthe promations were not mere threats, as some said, but positiveenactments which would be enforced at the appointed time; and whatmade me believe this was what i knew of the base and extravagantdesigns which our people harboured, designs of such a nature that ithink it was a divine inspiration that moved his majesty to carryout a resolution so spirited; not that we were all guilty, for somethere were true and steadfast christians; but they were so few thatthey could make no head against those who were not; and it was notprudent to cherish a viper in the bosom by having enemies in thehouse. in short it was with just cause that we were visited with thepenalty of banishment, a mild and lenient one in the eyes of some, butto us the most terrible that could be inflicted upon us. wherever weare we weep for spain; for after all we were born there and it isour natural fathend. nowhere do we find the reception our unhappycondition needs; and in barbary and all the parts of africa where wecounted upon being received, soured, and weed, it is there theyinsult and ill-treat us most. we knew not our good fortune until welost it; and such is the longing we almost all of us have to return tospain, that most of those who like myself know thenguage, and thereare many who do,e back to it and leave their wives and childrenforsaken yonder, so great is their love for it; and now i know byexperience the meaning of the saying, sweet is the love of onescountry. "i left our vige, as i said, and went to france, but thoughthey gave us a kind reception there i was anxious to see all icould. i crossed into italy, and reached germany, and there itseemed to me we might live with more freedom, as the inhabitants donot pay any attention to trifling points; everyone lives as helikes, for in most parts they enjoy liberty of conscience. i took ahouse in a town near augsburg, and then joined these pilgrims, who arein the habit ofing to spain in great numbers every year to visitthe shrines there, which they look upon as their indies and a sure andcertain source of gain. they travel nearly all over it, and there isno town out of which they do not go full up of meat and drink, asthe saying is, and with a real, at least, in money, and theyeoff at the end of their travels with more than a hundred crowns saved,which, ²ånged into gold, they smuggle out of the kingdom either inthe hollow of their staves or in the patches of their pilgrims cloaksor by some device of their own, and carry to their own country inspite of the guards at the posts and passes where they are searched.now my purpose is, sancho, to carry away the treasure that i leftburied, which, as it is outside the town, i shall be able to dowithout risk, and to write, or cross over from valencia, to mydaughter and wife, who i know are at algiers, and find some means ofbringing them to some french port and thence to germany, there toawait what it may be gods will to do with us; for, after all, sancho,i know well that ricota my daughter and francisca ricota my wife arecatholic christians, and though i am not so much so, still i am moreof a christian than a moor, and it is always my prayer to god thathe will open the eyes of my understanding and show me how i am toserve him; but what amazes me and i cannot understand is why my wifeand daughter should have gone to barbary rather than to france,where they could live as christians."
µÚ182Ò³ to this sancho replied, "remember, ricote, that may not have beenopen to them, for juan tiopieyo thy wifes brother took them, andbeing a true moor he went where he could go most easily; and anotherthing i can tell thee, it is my belief thou art going in vain tolook for what thou hast left buried, for we heard they took from thybrother-inw and thy wife a great quantity of pearls and money ingold which they brought to be passed." "that may be," said ricote; "but i know they did not touch my hoard,for i did not tell them where it was, for fear of idents; and so,if thou wilte with me, sancho, and help me to take it away andconceal it, i will give thee two hundred crowns wherewith thoumayest relieve thy necessities, and, as thou knowest, i know theyare many." "i would do it," said sancho; "but i am not at all covetous, for igave up an office this morning in which, if i was, i might have madethe walls of my house of gold and dined off silver tes before sixmonths were over; and so for this reason, and because i feel i wouldbe guilty of treason to my king if i helped his enemies, i would notgo with thee if instead of promising me two hundred crowns thou wertto give me four hundred here in hand." "and what office is this thou hast given up, sancho?" asked ricote. "i have given up being governor of an ind," said sancho, "andsuch a one, faith, as you wont find the like of easily." "and where is this ind?" said ricote. "where?" said sancho; "two leagues from here, and it is called theind of barataria." "nonsense! sancho," said ricote; "inds are away out in the sea;there are no inds on the maind." "what? no inds!" said sancho; "i tell thee, friend ricote, i leftit this morning, and yesterday i was governing there as i pleased likea sagittarius; but for all that i gave it up, for it seemed to me adangerous office, a governors." "and what hast thou gained by the government?" asked ricote. "i have gained," said sancho, "the knowledge that i am no good forgoverning, unless it is a drove of cattle, and that the riches thatare to be got by these governments are got at the cost of ones restand sleep, ay and even ones food; for in inds the governors musteat little, especially if they have doctors to look after theirhealth." "i dont understand thee, sancho," said ricote; "but it seems tome all nonsense thou art talking. who would give thee inds togovern? is there any scarcity in the world of cleverer men than thouart for governors? hold thy peace, sancho, ande back to thysenses, and consider whether thou wilte with me as i said tohelp me to take away treasure i left buried £¨for indeed it may becalled a treasure, it is sorge£©£¬ and i will give thee wherewithalto keep thee, as i told thee." "and i have told thee already, ricote, that i will not," saidsancho; "let it content thee that by me thou shalt not be betrayed,and go thy way in gods name and let me go mine; for i know thatwell-gotten gain may be lost, but ill-gotten gain is lost, itselfand its owner likewise." "i will not press thee, sancho," said ricote; "but tell me, wertthou in our vige when my wife and daughter and brother-inwleft it?" "i was so," said sancho; "and i can tell thee thy daughter left itlooking so lovely that all the vige turned out to see her, andeverybody said Éä was the fairest creature in the world. Éä weptas Éä went, and embraced all her friends and acquaintances andthose who came out to see her, and Éä begged them all tomendher to god and ourdy his mother, and this in such a touching waythat it made me weep myself, though im not much given to tearmonly; and, faith, many a one would have liked to hide her, or goout and carry her off on the road; but the fear of going against thekingsmand kept them back. the one who showed himself most movedwas don pedro gregorio, the rich young heir thou knowest of, andthey say he was deep in love with her; and since Éä left he has notbeen seen in our vige again, and we all suspect he has gone afterher to steal her away, but so far nothing has been heard of it." "i always had a suspicion that gentleman had a passion for mydaughter," said ricote; "but as i felt sure of my ricotas virtue itgave me no uneasiness to know that he loved her; for thou must haveheard it said, sancho, that the morisco women seldom or never engagein amours with the old christians; and my daughter, who i fancythought more of being a christian than of lovemaking, would nottrouble herself about the attentions of this heir." "god grant it," said sancho, "for it would be a bad business forboth of them; but now let me be off, friend ricote, for i want toreach where my master don quixote is to-night." "god be with thee, brother sancho," said ricote; "myrades arebeginning to stir, and it is time, too, for us to continue ourjourney;" and then they both embraced, and sancho mounted dapple,and ricote leant upon his staff, and so they parted.²åpter lv of what befell sancho on the road, and other things that cannot besurpassed the length of time he dyed with ricote prevented sancho fromreaching the dukes castle that day, though he was within half aleague of it when night, somewhat dark and cloudy, overtook him. this,however, as it was summer time, did not give him much uneasiness,and he turned aside out of the road intending to wait for morning; buthis ill luck and hard fate so willed it that as he was searching aboutfor a ce to make himself asfortable as possible, he anddapple fell into a deep dark hole thaty among some very oldbuildings. as he fell hemended himself with all his heart togod, fancying he was not going to stop until he reached the depthsof the bottomless pit; but it did not turn out so, for at littlemore than thrice a mans height dapple touched bottom, and he foundhimself sitting on him without having received any hurt or damagewhatever. he felt himself all over and held his breath to trywhether he was quite sound or had a hole made in him anywhere, andfinding himself all right and whole and in perfect health he wasprofuse in his thanks to god our lord for the mercy that had beenshown him, for he made sure he had been broken into a thousand pieces.he also felt along the sides of the pit with his hands to see if itwere possible to get out of it without help, but he found they werequite smooth and afforded no hold anywhere, at which he was greatlydistressed, especially when he heard how pathetically and dolefullydapple was bemoaning himself, and no wonder heined, nor wasit from ill-temper, for in truth he was not in a very good case."s," said sancho, "what unexpected idents happen at every stepto those who live in this miserable world! who would have said thatone who saw himself yesterday sitting on a throne, governor of anind, giving orders to his servants and his vassals, would seehimself to-day buried in a pit without a soul to help him, orservant or vassal toe to his relief? here must we perish withhunger, my ass and myself, if indeed we dont die first, he of hisbruises and injuries, and i of grief and sorrow. at any rate illnot be as lucky as my master don quixote of man²å, when he wentdown into the cave of that en²ånted montesinos, where he found peopleto make more of him than if he had been in his own house; for it seemÉä came in for a tableid out and a bed ready made. there he sawfair and pleasant visions, but here ill see, i imagine, toads andadders. unlucky wretch that i am, what an end my follies and fancieshavee to! theyll take up my bones out of this, when it iÉäavens will that im found, picked clean, white and poliÉäd, and mygood dapples with them, and by that, perhaps, it will be found outwho we are, at least by such as have heard that sancho panza neverseparated from his ass, nor his ass from sancho panza. unluckywretches, i say again, that our hard fate should not let us die in ourown country and among our own people, where if there was no help forour misfortune, at any rate there would be some one to grieve for itand to close our eyes as we passed away! orade and friend, how illhave i repaid thy faithful services! forgive me, and entreatfortune, as well as thou canst, to deliver us out of this miserablestrait we are both in; and i promise to put a crown ofurel on thyhead, and make thee look like a poetureate, and give thee doublefeeds." in this strain did sancho bewail himself, and his ass listened tohim, but answered him never a word, such was the distress andanguish the poor beast found himself in. at length, after a nightspent in bitter moanings andmentations, day came, and by itslight sancho perceived that it was wholly impossible to escape outof that pit without help, and he fell to bemoaning his fate anduttering loud shouts to find out if there was anyone within hearing;but all his shouting was only crying in the wilderness, for therewas not a soul anywhere in the neighbourhood to hear him, and thenatst he gave himself up for dead. dapple was lying on his back, andsancho helped him to his feet, which he was scarcely able to keep; andthen taking a piece of bread out of his alforjas which had sharedtheir fortunes in the fall, he gave it to the ass, to whom it wasnot unwee, saying to him as if he understood him, "with breadall sorrows are less."
µÚ183Ò³ and now he perceived on one side of the pit a holerge enough toadmit a person if he stooped and squeezed himself into a smalpass. sancho made for it, and entered it by creeping, and foundit wide and spacious on the inside, which he was able to see as aray of sunlight that prated what might be called the roof showedit all inly. he observed too that it opened and widened out intoanother spacious cavity; seeing which he made his way back to wherethe ass was, and with a stone began to pick away the y from thehole until in a short time he had made room for the beast to passeasily, and this apliÉäd, taking him by the halter, heproceeded to traverse the cavern to see if there was any outlet at theother end. he advanced, sometimes in the dark, sometimes withoutlight, but never without fear; "god almighty help me!" said he tohimself; "this that is a misadventure to me would make a goodadventure for my master don quixote. he would have been sure to takethese depths and dungeons for flowery gardens or the pces ofgaliana, and would have counted upon issuing out of this darknessand imprisonment into some blooming meadow; but i, unlucky that iam, hopeless and spiritless, expect at every step another pit deeperthan the first to open under my feet and swallow me up for good;wee evil, if thouest alone." in this way and with these reflections he seemed to himself tohave travelled rather more than half a league, when atst heperceived a dim light that looked like daylight and found its way inon one side, showing that this road, which appeared to him the road tothe other world, led to some opening. here cide hamete leaves him, and returns to don quixote, who in highspirits and satisfaction was looking forward to the day fixed forthe battle he was to fight with him who had robbed dona rodriguezsdaughter of her honour, for whom he hoped to obtain satisfaction forthe wrong and injury shamefully done to her. it came to pass, then,that having sallied forth one morning to practise and exercise himselfin what he would have to do in the encounter he expected to findhimself engaged in the next day, as he was putting rocinante throughhis paces or pressing him to the ²årge, he brought his feet soclose to a pit that but for reining him in tightly it would havebeen impossible for him to avoid falling into it. he pulled him up,however, without a fall, anding a little closer examined thehole without dismounting; but as he was looking at it he heard loudcries proceeding from it, and by listening attentively was able tomake out that he who uttered them was saying, "ho, above there! isthere any christian that hears me, or any ²åritable gentleman thatwill take pity on a sinner buried alive, on an unfortunate disgovernedgovernor?" it struck don quixote that it was the voice of sancho panza heheard, whereat he was taken aback and amazed, and raising his ownvoice as much as he could, he cried out, "who is below there? who isthatining?" "who should be here, or who shouldin," was the answer, "butthe forlorn sancho panza, for his sins and for his ill-luck governorof the ind of barataria, squire that was to the famous knight donquixote of man²å?" when don quixote heard this his amazement was redoubled and hisperturbation grew greater than ever, for it suggested itself to hismind that sancho must be dead, and that his soul was in torment downthere; and carried away by this idea he eximed, "i conjure theeby everything that as a catholic christian i can conjure thee by, tellme who thou art; and if thou art a soul in torment, tell me whatthou wouldst have me do for thee; for as my profession is to giveaid and sour to those that need it in this world, it will alsoextend to aiding and souring the distressed of the other, whocannot help themselves." "in that case," answered the voice, "your worship who speaks to memust be my master don quixote of man²å; nay, from the tone ofthe voice it is in it can be nobody else." "don quixote i am," replied don quixote, "he whose profession itis to aid and sour the living and the dead in their necessities;wherefore tell me who thou art, for thou art keeping me in suspense;because, if thou art my squire sancho panza, and art dead, since thedevils have not carried thee off, and thou art by gods mercy inpurgatory, our holy mother the roman catholic church hasintercessory means sufficient to release thee from the pains thouart in; and i for my part will plead with her to that end, so far asmy substance will go; without further dy, therefore, derethyself, and tell me who thou art." "by all thats good," was the answer, "and by the birth ofwhomsoever your worship chooses, i swear, senor don quixote ofman²å, that i am your squire sancho panza, and that i have never diedall my life; but that, having given up my government for reasonsthat would require more time to exin, i fellst night into thispit where i am now, and dapple is witness and wont let me lie, formore by token he is here with me." nor was this all; one would have fancied the ass understood whatsancho said, because that moment he began to bray so loudly that thewhole cave rang again. "famous testimony!" eximed don quixote; "i know that bray as wes if i was its mother, and thy voice too, my sancho. wait while igo to the dukes castle, which is close by, and i will bring someone to take thee out of this pit into which thy sins no doubt havebrought thee." "go, your worship," said sancho, "ande back quick for godssake; for i cannot bear being buried alive any longer, and im dyingof fear." don quixote left him, and hastened to the castle to tell the dukeand duchess what had happened sancho, and they were not a littleastoniÉäd at it; they could easily understand his having fallen, fromthe confirmatory circumstance of the cave which had been inexistence there from time immemorial; but they could not imagine howhe had quitted the government without their receiving any intimationof hising. to be brief, they fetched ropes and tackle, as thesaying is, and by dint of many hands and muchbour they drew updapple and sancho panza out of the darkness into the light of day. astudent who saw him remarked, "thats the way all bad governors shoule out of their governments, as this sinneres out of thedepths of the pit, dead with hunger, pale, and i suppose without afarthing." sancho overheard him and said, "it is eight or ten days, brothergrowler, since i entered upon the government of the ind they gaveme, and all that time i never had a bellyful of victuals, no not foran hour; doctors persecuted me and enemies cruÉäd my bones; nor had iany opportunity of taking bribes or levying taxes; and if that bethe case, as it is, i dont deserve, i think, toe out in thisfashion; but man proposes and god disposes; and god knows what isbest, and what suits each one best; and as the asion, so thebehaviour; and let nobody say "i wont drink of this water;" andwhere one thinks there are flitches, there are no pegs; god knows mymeaning and thats enough; i say no more, though i could." "be not angry or annoyed at what thou hearest, sancho," said donquixote, "or there will never be an end of it; keep a safeconscience and let them say what they like; for trying to stopnderers tongues is like trying to put gates to the open in.if a governores out of his government rich, they say he has been athief; and if hees out poor, that he has been a noodle and ablockhead." "theyll be pretty sure this time," said sancho, "to set me down fora fool rather than a thief." thus talking, and surrounded by boys and a crowd of people, theyreached the castle, where in one of the corridors the duke and duchessstood waiting for them; but sancho would not go up to see the dukeuntil he had first put up dapple in the stable, for he said he hadpassed a very bad night in hisst quarters; then he went upstairs tosee his lord anddy, and kneeling before them he said, "because itwas your highnesses pleasure, not because of any desert of my own,i went to govern your ind of barataria, which i entered naked, andnaked i find myself; i neither lose nor gain. whether i have governedwell or ill, i have had witnesses who will say what they think fit.i have answered questions, i have decided causes, and always dyingof hunger, for doctor pedro recio of tirteafuera, the ind andgovernor doctor, would have it so. enemies attacked us by night andput us in a great quandary, but the people of the ind say they cameoff safe and victorious by the might of my arm; and may god givethem as much health as theres truth in what they say. in short,during that time i have weighed the cares and responsibilitiesgoverning brings with it, and by my reckoning i find my shoulderscant bear them, nor are they a load for my loins or arrows for myquiver; and so, before the government threw me over i preferred tothrow the government over; and yesterday morning i left the indas i found it, with the same streets, houses, and roofs it had wheni entered it. i asked no loan of anybody, nor did i try to fill mypocket; and though i meant to make some usefulws, i made hardlyany, as i was afraid they would not be kept; for in that case itesto the same thing to make them or not to make them. i quitted theind, as i said, without any escort except my ass; i fell into apit, i puÉäd on through it, until this morning by the light of thesun i saw an outlet, but not so easy a one but that, had not heavensent me my master don quixote, id have stayed there till the end ofthe world. so now my lord anddy duke and duchess, here is yourgovernor sancho panza, who in the bare ten days he has held thegovernment hase by the knowledge that he would not give anythingto be governor, not to say of an ind, but of the whole world; andthat point being settled, kissing your worships feet, and imitatingthe game of the boys when they say, leap thou, and give me one, itake a leap out of the government and pass into the service of mymaster don quixote; for after all, though in it i eat my bread in fearand trembling, at any rate i take my fill; and for my part, so long asim full, its all alike to me whether its with carrots or withpartridges."
µÚ184Ò³ here sancho brought his long speech to an end, don quixote havingbeen the whole time in dread of his uttering a host of absurdities;and when he found him leave off with so few, he thanked heaven inhis heart. the duke embraced sancho and told him he was heartily sorryhe had given up the government so soon, but that he would see thathe was provided with some other post on his estate less onerous andmore profitable. the duchess also embraced him, and gave orders thathe should be taken good care of, as it was in to see he had beenbadly treated and worse bruised.²åpter lvi of the prodigious and unparalleled battle that took ce betweendon quixote of man²å and thecquey tosilos in defence of thedaughter of dona rodriguez the duke and duchess had no reason to regret the joke that hadbeen yed upon sancho panza in giving him the government; especiallyas their majordomo returned the same day, and gave them a minuteount of almost every word and deed that sancho uttered or didduring the time; and to wind up with, eloquently described to them theattack upon the ind and sanchos fright and departure, with whichthey were not a little amused. after this the history goes on to saythat the day fixed for the battle arrived, and that the duke, afterhaving repeatedly instructed hiscquey tosilos how to deal withdon quixote so as to vanquish him without killing or wounding him,gave orders to have the heads removed from thences, telling donquixote that christian ²årity, on which he plumed himself, couldnot suffer the battle to be fought with so much risk and danger tolife; and that he must be content with the offer of a battlefield onhis territory £¨though that was against the decree of the holy council,which prohibits all ²ållenges of the sort£© and not push such anarduous venture to its extreme limits. don quixote bade his excellencearrange all matters connected with the affair as he pleased, as on hispart he would obey him in everything. the dread day, then, havingarrived, and the duke having ordered a spacious stand to be erectedfacing the court of the castle for the judges of the field and theappent duennas, mother and daughter, vast crowds flocked from allthe viges and hamlets of the neighbourhood to see the novelspectacle of the battle; nobody, dead or alive, in those partshaving ever seen or heard of such a one. the first person to enter the-field and the lists was the masterof the ceremonies, who surveyed and paced the whole ground to see thatthere was nothing unfair and nothing concealed to make thbatants stumble or fall; then the duennas entered and seatedthemselves, enveloped in mantles covering their eyes, nay even theirbosoms, and disying no slight emotion as don quixote appeared inthe lists. shortly afterwards, apanied by several trumpets andmounted on a powerful steed that threatened to crush the wholece, the greatcquey tosilos made his appearance on one side ofthe courtyard with his visor down and stiffly cased in a suit of stoutshining armour. the horse was a manifest friender, broad-backed andflea-bitten, and with half a hundred of wool hanging to each of hisfetlocks. the gantbatant came well primed by his master theduke as to how he was to bear himself against the valiant donquixote of man²å; being warned that he must on no ount yhim, but strive to shirk the first encounter so as to avoid the riskof killing him, as he was sure to do if he met him full tilt. hecrossed the courtyard at a walk, anding to where the duennaswere ced stopped to look at her who demanded him for a husband; themarshal of the field summoned don quixote, who had already presentedhimself in the courtyard, and standing by the side of tosilos headdressed the duennas, and asked them if they consented that donquixote of man²å should do battle for their right. they saidthey did, and that whatever he should do in that behalf theydered rightly done, final and valid. by this time the duke andduchess had taken their ces in a gallerymanding theenclosure, which was filled to overflowing with a multitude ofpeople eager to see this perilous and unparalleled encounter. theconditions of thebat were that if don quixote proved the victorhis antagonist was to marry the daughter of dona rodriguez; but ifhe should be vanquiÉäd his opponent was released from the promisethat was imed against him and from all obligations to givesatisfaction. the master of the ceremonies apportioned the sun tothem, and stationed them, each on the spot where he was to stand.the drums beat, the sound of the trumpets filled the air, the earthtrembled under foot, the hearts of the gazing crowd were full ofanxiety, some hoping for a happy issue, some apprehensive of anuntoward ending to the affair, andstly, don quixote,mendinghimself with all his heart to god our lord and to thedy dulcineadel toboso, stood waiting for them to give the necessary signal forthe onset. ourcquey, however, was thinking of something verydifferent; he only thought of what i am now going to mention. it seems that as he stood contemting his enemy Éä struck himas the most beautiful woman he had ever seen all his life; and thelittle blind boy whom in our streets theymonly call love had nomind to let slip the ²ånce of triumphing over acquey heart, andadding it to the list of his trophies; and so, stealing gently uponhim unseen, he drove a dart two yards long into the poorcqueysleft side and pierced his heart through and through; which he was ableto do quite at his ease, for love is invisible, andes in andgoes out as he likes, without anyone calling him to ount for whathe does. well then, when they gave the signal for the onset oucquey was in an ecstasy, musing upon the beauty of her whom he hadalready made mistress of his liberty, and so he paid no attention tothe sound of the trumpet, unlike don quixote, who was off theinstant he heard it, and, at the highest speed rocinante was capableof, set out to meet his enemy, his good squire sancho shouting lustilyas he saw him start, "god guide thee, cream and flower ofknights-errant! god give thee the victory, for thou hast the righton thy side!" but though tosilos saw don quixoteing at him henever stirred a step from the spot where he was posted; and instead ofdoing so called loudly to the marshal of the field, to whom when hecame up to see what he wanted he said, "senor, is not this battle todecide whether i marry or do not marry thatdy?" "just so," wasthe answer. "well then," said thecquey, "i feel qualms ofconscience, and i shouldy a-heavy burden upon it if i were toproceed any further with thebat; i therefore dere that iyield myself vanquiÉäd, and that i am willing to marry thedy atonce." the marshal of the field was lost in astonishment at the words oftosilos; and as he was one of those who were privy to thearrangement of the affair he knew not what to say in reply. donquixote pulled up in mid career when he saw that his enemy was noing on to the attack. the duke could not make out the reason whythe battle did not go on; but the marshal of the field hastened to himto let him know what tosilos said, and he was amazed and extremelyangry at it. in the meantime tosilos advanced to where donarodriguez sat and said in a loud voice, "senora, i am willing to marryyour daughter, and i have no wish to obtain by strife and fightingwhat i can obtain in peace and without any risk to my life." the valiant don quixote heard him, and said, "as that is the casei am released and absolved from my promise; let them marry by allmeans, and as god our lord has given her, may saint peter add hisblessing." the duke had now descended to the courtyard of the castle, and goingup to tosilos he said to him, "is it true, sir knight, that youyield yourself vanquiÉäd, and that moved by scruples of conscienceyou wish to marry this damsel?" "it is, senor," replied tosilos. "and he does well," said sancho, "for what thou hast to give tothe mouse, give to the cat, and it will save thee all trouble." tosilos meanwhile was trying to uce his helmet, and he beggedthem toe to his help at once, as his power of breathing wasfailing him, and he could not remain so long shut up in thatconfined space. they removed it in all haste, and hiscquey featureswere revealed to public gaze. at this sight dona rodriguez and herdaughter raised a mighty outcry, eximing, "this is a trick! this isa trick! they have put tosilos, my lord the dukescquey, upon us ince of the real husband. the justice of god and the king againstsuch trickery, not to say roguery!" "do not distress yourselves,dies," said don quixote; "for this isno trickery or roguery; or if it is, it is not the duke who is atthe bottom of it, but those wicked en²ånters who persecute me, andwho, jealous of my reaping the glory of this victory, have turned yourhusbands features into those of this person, who you say is acqueyof the dukes; take my advice, and notwithstanding the malice of myenemies marry him, for beyond a doubt he is the one you wish for ahusband." when the duke heard this all his anger was near vanishing in a fitofughter, and he said, "the things that happen to senor don quixoteare so extraordinary that i am ready to believe thiscquey of mineis not one; but let us adopt this n and device; let us put offthe marriage for, say, a fortnight, and let us keep this personabout whom we are uncertain in close confinement, and perhaps in thecourse of that time he may return to his original shape; for the spitewhich the en²ånters entertain against senor don quixote cannotstso long, especially as it is of so little advantage to them topractise these deceptions and transformations."
µÚ185Ò³ "oh, senor," said sancho, "those scoundrels are well used to²ånging whatever concerns my master from one thing into another. aknight that he overcame some time back, called the knight of themirrors, they turned into the shape of the bachelor samson carrasco ofour town and a great friend of ours; and mydy dulcinea del tobosothey have turned into amon country wench; so i suspect thicquey will have to live and die acquey all the days of his life." here the rodriguezs daughter eximed, "let him be who he may,this man that ims me for a wife; i am thankful to him for the same,for i had rather he thewful wife of acquey than the cheatedmistress of a gentleman; though he who yed me false is nothing ofthe kind." to be brief, all the talk and all that had happened ended in tosilosbeing shut up until it was seen how his transformation turned out. allhailed don quixote as victor, but the greater number were vexed anddisappointed at finding that thebatants they had been so anxiouslywaiting for had not battered one another to pieces, just as the boysare disappointed when the man they are waiting to see hanged doesnote out, because the prosecution or the court has pardoned him.the people dispersed, the duke and don quixote returned to the castle,they locked up tosilos, dona rodriguez and her daughter remainedperfectly contented when they saw that any way the affair must endin marriage, and tosilos wanted nothing else. ²åpter lvii which treats of how don quixote took leave of the duke, and ofwhat followed with the witty and impudent altisidora, one of theduchesss damsels don quixote now felt it right to quit a life of such idleness aÉä was leading in the castle; for he fancied that he was makinghimself sorely missed by suffering himself to remain shut up andinactive amid the countless luxuries and enjoyments his hostsviÉädupon him as a knight. and he felt too that he would have to render astrict ount to heaven of that indolence and seclusion; and so oneday he asked the duke and duchess to grant him permission to takehis departure. they gave it, showing at the same time that they werevery sorry he was leaving them. the duchess gave his wifes letters tosancho panza, who Éäd tears over them, saying, "who would havethought that such grand hopes as the news of my government bred inmy wife teresa panzas breast would end in my going back now to thevagabond adventures of my master don quixote of man²å? still imd to see my teresa behaved as Éä ought in sending the acorns,for if Éä had not sent them id have been sorry, and Éäd have shownherself ungrateful. it is afort to me that they cant call thatpresent a bribe; for i had got the government already when Éä sentthem, and its but reasonable that those who have had a good turn dhem should show their gratitude, if its only with a trifle. afterall i went into the government naked, and ie out of it naked; so ican say with a safe conscience -and thats no small matter- naked iwas born, naked i find myself, i neither lose nor gain." thus did sancho soliloquise on the day of their departure, as donquixote, who had the night before taken leave of the duke and duchessing out made his appearance at an early hour in full armour inthe courtyard of the castle. the whole household of the castle werewatching him from the corridors, and the duke and duchess, too, cameout to see him. sancho was mounted on his dapple, with his alforjas,valise, and proven. supremely happy because the dukes majordomo,the same that had acted the part of the trifaldi, had given him alittle purse with two hundred gold crowns to meet the necessaryexpenses of the road, but of this don quixote knew nothing as yet.while all were, as has been said, observing him, suddenly from amongthe duennas and handmaidens the impudent and witty altisidora liftedup her voice and said in pathetic tones: give ear, cruel knight; draw rein; wheres the need of spurring the nks of that ill-broken steed? from what art thou flying? no dragon i am, not even a Éäep, but a tender youngmb. thou hast jilted a maiden as fair to behold as nymph of diana or venus of old. bireno, aeneas, what worse shall i call thee? barabbas go with thee! all evil befall thee! in thy ws, ruthless robber, thou bearest away the heart of a meek loving maid for thy prey, three kerchiefs thou stealest, and garters a pair, from legs than the whitest of marble more fair; and the sighs that pursue thee would burn to the ground two thousand troy towns, if so many were found. bireno, aeneas, what worse shall i call thee? barabbas go with thee! all evil befall thee! may no bowels of mercy to sancho be granted, and thy dulcinea be left still en²ånted, may thy falsehood to me find its punishment in her, for in mynd the just often pays for the sinner. may thy grandest adventures difitures prove, may thy joys be all dreams, and forgotten thy love. bireno, aeneas, what worse shall i call thee? barabbas go with thee! all evil befall thee! may thy name be abhorred for thy conduct todies, from london to ennd, from seville to cadiz; may thy cards be unlucky, thy hands contain neer a king, seven, or ace when thou yest primera; when thy corns are cut may it be to the quick; when thy grinders are drawn may the roots of them stick. bireno, aeneas, what worse shall i call thee? barabbas go with thee! all evil befall thee! all the while the unhappy altisidora was bewailing herself in theabove strain don quixote stood staring at her; and without utteringa word in reply to her he turned round to sancho and said, "sanchomy friend, i conjure thee by the life of thy forefathers tell me thetruth; say, hast thou by any ²ånce taken the three kerchiefs andthe garters this love-sick maid speaks of?" to this sancho made answer, "the three kerchiefs i have; but thegarters, as much as over the hills of ubeda." the duchess was amazed at altisidoras assurance; Éä knew thatÉä was bold, lively, and impudent, but not so much so as to ventureto make free in this fashion; and not being prepared for the joke, herastonishment was all the greater. the duke had a mind to keep up thesport, so he said, "it does not seem to me well done in you, sirknight, that after having received the hospitality that has beenoffered you in this very castle, you should have ventured to carry offeven three kerchiefs, not to say my handmaids garters. it shows a badheart and does not tally with your reputation. restore her garters, orelse i defy you to mortalbat, for i am not afraid of rascallyen²ånters ²ånging or altering my features as they ²ånged his whoencountered you into those of mycquey, tosilos." "god forbid," said don quixote, "that i should draw my sword againstyour illustrious person from which i have received such great favours.the kerchiefs i will restore, as sancho says he has them; as to thegarters that is impossible, for i have not got them, neither has he;and if your handmaiden here will look in her hiding-ces, dependupon it Éä will find them. i have never been a thief, my lord duke,nor do i mean to be so long as i live, if god cease not to have mein his keeping. this damsel by her own confession speaks as one inlove, for which i am not to me, and therefore need not askpardon, either of her or of your excellence, whom i entreat to havea better opinion of me, and once more to give me leave to pursue myjourney." "and may god so prosper it, senor don quixote," said the duchess,"that we may always hear good news of your exploits; god speed you;for the longer you stay, the more you inme the hearts of thedamsels who behold you; and as for this one of mine, i will so²åstise her that Éä will not transgress again, either with hereyes or with her words." "one word and no more, o valiant don quixote, i ask you to hear,"said altisidora, "and that is that i beg your pardon about the theftof the garters; for by god and upon my soul i have got them on, andi have fallen into the same blunder as he did who went looking for hisass being all the while mounted on it." "didnt i say so?" said sancho. "im a likely one to hide thefts!why if i wanted to deal in them, opportunities came ready enough to mein my government." don quixote bowed his head, and saluted the duke and duchess and allthe bystanders, and wheeling rocinante round, sancho following himon dapple, he rode out of the castle, shaping his course forsaragossa.²åpter lviii which tells how adventures came crowding on don quixote in suchnumbers that they gave one another no breathing-time when don quixote saw himself in open country, free, and relievedfrom the attentions of altisidora, he felt at his ease, and in freshspirits to take up the pursuit of chivalry once more; and turning tosancho he said, "freedom, sancho, is one of the most precious giftsthat heaven has bestowed upon men; no treasures that the earth holdsburied or the sea conceals canpare with it; for freedom, as forhonour, life may and should be ventured; and on the other hand,captivity is the greatest evil that can fall to the lot of man. isay this, sancho, because thou hast seen the good cheer, the abundancewe have enjoyed in this castle we are leaving; well then, amid thosedainty banquets and snow-cooled beverages i felt as though i wereundergoing the straits of hunger, because i did not enjoy them withthe same freedom as if they had been mine own; for the sense ofbeing under an obligation to return benefits and favours received is arestraint that checks the independence of the spirit. happy he, towhom heaven has given a piece of bread for which he is not bound togive thanks to any but heaven itself!"
µÚ186Ò³ "for all your worship says," said sancho, "it is not bing thatthere should he no thanks on our part for two hundred gold crowns thatthe dukes majordomo has given me in a little purse which i carry nextmy heart, like a warming ster orforter, to meet any ²åncecalls; for we shant always find castles where theyll entertain us;now and then we may light upon roadside inns where theyll cudgel us." in conversation of this sort the knight and squire errant werepursuing their journey, when, after they had gone a little more thanhalf a league, they perceived some dozen men dressed likebourersstretched upon their cloaks on the grass of a green meadow eatingtheir dinner. they had beside them what seemed to be white Éäetsconcealing some objects under them, standing upright or lying t,and arranged at intervals. don quixote approached the diners, and,saluting them courteously first, he asked them what it was thosecloths covered. "senor," answered one of the party, "under thesecloths are some images carved in relief intended for a retablo weare putting up in our vige; we carry them covered up that theymay not be soiled, and on our shoulders that they may not be broken." "with your good leave," said don quixote, "i should like to seethem; for images that are carried so carefully no doubt must be fineones." "i should think they were!" said the other; "let the money they costspeak for that; for as a matter of fact there is not one of themthat does not stand us in more than fifty ducats; and that yourworship may judge; wait a moment, and you shall see with your owneyes;" and getting up from his dinner he went and uncovered thefirst image, which proved to be one of saint george on horsebackwith a serpent writhing at his feet and thence thrust down itsthroat with all that fierceness that is usually depicted. the wholegroup was one ze of gold, as the saying is. on seeing it donquixote said, "that knight was one of the best knights-errant the armyof heaven ever owned; he was called don saint george, and he wasmoreover a defender of maidens. let us see this next one." the man uncovered it, and it was seen to be that of saint martinon his horse, dividing his cloak with the beggar. the instant donquixote saw it he said, "this knight too was one of the christianadventurers, but i believe he was generous rather than valiant, asthou mayest perceive, sancho, by his dividing his cloak with thebeggar and giving him half of it; no doubt it was winter at thetime, for otherwise he would have given him the whole of it, so²åritable was he." "it was not that, most likely," said sancho, "but that he heldwith the proverb that says, for giving and keeping theres need ofbrains." don quixoteughed, and asked them to take off the next cloth,underneath which was seen the image of the patron saint of thespains seated on horseback, his sword stained with blood, trampling onmoors and treading heads underfoot; and on seeing it don quixoteeximed, "ay, this is a knight, and of the squadrons of christ! thisone is called don saint james the mooryer, one of the bravestsaints and knights the world ever had or heaven has now." they then raised another cloth which it appeared covered saintpaul falling from his horse, with all the details that are usuallygiven in representations of his conversion. when don quixote saw it,rendered in such lifelike style that one would have said christ wasspeaking and paul answering, "this," he said, "was in his time thegreatest enemy that the church of god our lord had, and the greatest²åmpion it will ever have; a knight-errant in life, a steadfast saintin death, an untiringbourer in the lords vineyard, a teacher ofthe gentiles, whose school was heaven, and whose instructor and masterwas jesus christ himself." there were no more images, so don quixote bade them cover them upagain, and said to those who had brought them, "i take it as a happyomen, brothers, to have seen what i have; for these saints and knightswere of the same profession as myself, which is the calling of arms;only there is this difference between them and me, that they weresaints, and fought with divine weapons, and i am a sinner and fightwith human ones. they won heaven by force of arms, for heavensuffereth violence; and i, so far, know not what i have won by dint ofmy sufferings; but if my dulcinea del toboso were to be releasedfrom hers, perhaps with mended fortunes and a mind restored toitself i might direct my steps in a better path than i am following atpresent." "may god hear and sin be deaf," said sancho to this. the men were filled with wonder, as well at the figure as at thewords of don quixote, though they did not understand one half ofwhat he meant by them. they finiÉäd their dinner, took their imageson their backs, and bidding farewell to don quixote resumed theirjourney. sancho was amazed afresh at the extent of his masters knowledge, asmuch as if he had never known him, for it seemed to him that there wasno story or event in the world that he had not at his fingers endsand fixed in his memory, and he said to him, "in truth, master mine,if this that has happened to us to-day is to be called an adventure,it has been one of the sweetest and pleasantest that have befallenus in the whole course of our travels; we havee out of itunbboured and undismayed, neither have we drawn sword nor have wesmitten the earth with our bodies, nor have we been left famishing;blessed be god that he has let me see such a thing with my own eyes!" "thou sayest well, sancho," said don quixote, "but remember alltimes are not alike nor do they always run the same way; and thesethings the vulgarmonly call omens, which are not based upon anynatural reason, will by him who is wise be esteemed and reckoned happyidents merely. one of these believers in omens will get up of amorning, leave his house, and meet a friar of the order of the blessedsaint francis, and, as if he had met a griffin, he will turn about andgo home. with another mendoza the salt is spilt on his table, andgloom is spilt over his heart, as if nature was obliged to givewarning ofing misfortunes by means of such trivial things asthese. the wise man and the christian should not trifle with what itmay please heaven to do. scipio oning to africa stumbled as heleaped on shore; his soldiers took it as a bad omen; but he,sping the soil with his arms, eximed, thou canst not escape me,africa, for i hold thee tight between my arms. thus, sancho,meeting those images has been to me a most happy urrence." "i can well believe it," said sancho; "but i wish your worship wouldtell me what is the reason that the spaniards, when they are aboutto give battle, in calling on that saint james the mooryer, saysantiago and close spain! is spain, then, open, so that it isneedful to close it; or what is the meaning of this form?" "thou art very simple, sancho," said don quixote; "god, look you,gave that great knight of the red cross to spain as her patron saintand protector, especially in those hard struggles the spaniards hadwith the moors; and therefore they invoke and call upon him as theirdefender in all their battles; and in these he has been many a timeseen beating down, trampling under foot, destroying and ughteringthe hagarene squadrons in the sight of all; of which fact i could givethee many examples recorded in truthful spanish histories." sancho ²ånged the subject, and said to his master, "i marvel,senor, at the boldness of altisidora, the duchesss handmaid; hewhom they call love must have cruelly pierced and wounded her; theysay he is a little blind urchin who, though blear-eyed, or moreproperly speaking sightless, if he aims at a heart, be it ever sosmall, hits it and pierces it through and through with his arrows. ihave heard it said too that the arrows of love are blunted androbbed of their points by maidenly modesty and reserve; but withthis altisidora it seems they are sharpened rather than blunted." "bear in mind, sancho," said don quixote, "that love is influencedby no consideration, recognises no restraints of reason, and is of thesame nature as death, that assails alike the lofty pces of kingsand the humble cabins of Éäpherds; and when it takes entirepossession of a heart, the first thing it does is to banish fear andshame from it; and so without shame altisidora dered her passion,which excited in my mind embarrassment rather thanmiseration." "notable cruelty!" eximed sancho; "unheard-of ingratitude! ican only say for myself that the very smallest loving word of herswould have subdued me and made a ve of me. the devil! what aheart of marble, what bowels of brass, what a soul of mortar! but icant imagine what it is that this damsel saw in your worship thatcould have conquered and captivated her so. what gant figure wasit, what bold bearing, what sprightly grace, whateliness offeature, which of these things by itself, or what all together,could have made her fall in love with you? for indeed and in truthmany a time i stop to look at your worship from the sole of yourfoot to the topmost hair of your head, and i see more to frightenone than to make one fall in love; moreover i have heard say thatbeauty is the first and main thing that excites love, and as yourworship has none at all, i dont know what the poor creature fell inlove with." "recollect, sancho," replied don quixote, "there are two sorts ofbeauty, one of the mind, the other of the body; that of the minddisys and exhibits itself in intelligence, in modesty, inhonourable conduct, in generosity, in good breeding; and all thesequalities are possible and may exist in an ugly man; and when it isthis sort of beauty and not that of the body that is the attraction,love is apt to spring up suddenly and violently. i, sancho, perceiveclearly enough that i am not beautiful, but at the same time i knowi am not hideous; and it is enough for an honest man not to be amonster to he an object of love, if only he possesses the endowmentsof mind i have mentioned."
µÚ187Ò³ while engaged in this discourse they were making their way through awood thaty beyond the road, when suddenly, without expectinganything of the kind, don quixote found himself caught in somes ofgreen cord stretched from one tree to another; and unable toconceive what it could be, he said to sancho, "sancho, it strikes methis affair of theses will prove one of the strangest adventuresimaginable. may i die if the en²ånters that persecute me are nottrying to entangle me in them and dy my journey, by way ofrevenge for my obduracy towards altisidora. well then let me tell themthat if theses, instead of being green cord, were made of thehardest diamonds, or stronger than that wherewith the jealous god ofcksmiths enmeÉäd venus and mars, i would break them as easily asif they were made of ruÉäs or cotton threads." but just as he wasabout to press forward and break through all, suddenly from among sometrees two Éäpherdesses of surpassing beauty presented themselves tohis sight- or at least damsels dressed like Éäpherdesses, save thattheir jerkins and sayas were of fine brocade; that is to say, thesayas were rich farthingales of gold embroidered tabby. their hair,that in its golden brightness vied with the beams of the sun itself,fell loose upon their shoulders and was crowned with gands twinedwith greenurel and red evesting; and their years to appearance were not under fifteen nor above eighteen. such was thespectacle that filled sancho with amazement, fascinated don quixote,made the sun halt in his course to behold them, and held all four in astrange silence. one of the Éäpherdesses, at length, was the first tospeak and said to don quixote, "hold, sir knight, and do not breaktheses; for they are not spread here to do you any harm, butonly for our amusement; and as i know you will ask why they havebeen put up, and who we are, i will tell you in a few words. in avige some two leagues from this, where there are many people ofquality and rich gentlefolk, it was agreed upon by a number of friendsand rtions toe with their wives, sons and daughters,neighbours, friends and kinsmen, and make holiday in this spot,which is one of the pleasantest in the whole neighbourhood, setting upa new pastoral arcadia among ourselves, we maidens dressingourselves as Éäpherdesses and the youths as Éäpherds. we haveprepared two eclogues, one by the famous poet garcsso, the other bythe most excellent camoens, in its own portuguese tongue, but wehave not as yet acted them. yesterday was the first day of ouing here; we have a few of what they say are called field-tentspitched among the trees on the bank of an ample brook thatfertilises all these meadows;st night we spread theses in thetrees here to snare the silly little birds that startled by thenoise we make may fly into them. if you please to he our guest, senor,you will be weed heartily and courteously, for here just nowneither care nor sorrow shall enter." Éä held her peace and said no more, and don quixote made answer,"of a truth, fairestdy, actaeon when he unexpectedly beheld dianabathing in the stream could not have been more fascinated andwonderstruck than i at the sight of your beauty. imend your modeof entertainment, and thank you for the kindness of your invitation;and if i can serve you, you maymand me with full confidence ofbeing obeyed, for my profession is none other than to show myselfgrateful, and ready to serve persons of all conditions, but especiallypersons of quality such as your appearance indicates; and if,instead of taking up, as they probably do, but a small space, thess took up the whole surface of the globe, i would seek out newworlds through which to pass, so as not to break them; and that ye maygive some degree of credence to this exaggeratednguage of mine,know that it is no less than don quixote of man²å that makesthis deration to you, if indeed it be that such a name hasreached your ears." "ah! friend of my soul," instantly eximed the otherÉäpherdess, "what great good fortune has befallen us! seest thou thisgentleman we have before us? well then let me tell thee he is the mostvaliant and the most devoted and the most courteous gentleman in allthe world, unless a history of his achievements that has beenprinted and i have read is telling lies and deceiving us. i willy awager that this good fellow who is with him is one sancho panza hissquire, whose drolleries none can equal." "thats true," said sancho; "i am that same droll and squire youspeak of, and this gentleman is my master don quixote of man²å,the same thats in the history and that they talk about." "oh, my friend," said the other, "let us entreat him to stay; for itwill give our fathers and brothers infinite pleasure; i too have heardjust what thou hast told me of the valour of the one and thedrolleries of the other; and what is more, of him they say that heis the most constant and loyal lover that was ever heard of, andthat hisdy is one dulcinea del toboso, to whom all over spain thepalm of beauty is awarded." "and justly awarded," said don quixote, "unless, indeed, yourunequalled beauty makes it a matter of doubt. but spare yourselves thetrouble,dies, of pressing me to stay, for the urgent calls of myprofession do not allow me to take rest under any circumstances." at this instant there came up to the spot where the four stood abrother of one of the two Éäpherdesses, like them in Éäpherdcostume, and as richly and gaily dressed as they were. they told himthat theirpanion was the valiant don quixote of man²å, and theother sancho his squire, of whom he knew already from having readtheir history. the gay Éäpherd offered him his services and beggedthat he would apany him to their tents, and don quixote had togive way andply. and now the gave was started, and thes werefilled with a variety of birds that deceived by the colour fell intothe danger they were flying from. upwards of thirty persons, all gailyattired as Éäpherds and Éäpherdesses, assembled on the spot, andwere at once informed who don quixote and his squire were, whereatthey were not a little delighted, as they knew of him alreadythrough his history. they repaired to the tents, where they foundtablesid out, and choicely, plentifully, and neatly furniÉäd. theytreated don quixote as a person of distinction, giving him the ceof honour, and all observed him, and were full of astonishment atthe spectacle. atst the cloth being removed, don quixote with greaposure lifted up his voice and said: "one of the greatest sins that men are guilty of is- some will saypride- but i say ingratitude, going by themon saying that hellis full of ingrates. this sin, so far as it hasin in my power, ihave endeavoured to avoid ever since i have enjoyed the faculty ofreason; and if i am unable to requite good deeds that have been doneme by other deeds, i substitute the desire to do so; and if that benot enough i make them known publicly; for he who deres and makesknown the good deeds done to him would repay them by others if it werein his power, and for the most part those who receive are theinferiors of those who give. thus, god is superior to all because heis the supreme giver, and the offerings of man fall short by aninfinite distance of being a full return for the gifts of god; butgratitude in some degree makes up for this deficiency and shoring.i therefore, grateful for the favour that has been extended to mehere, and unable to make a return in the same measure, restricted as iam by the narrow limits of my power, offer what i can and what ihave to offer in my own way; and so i dere that for two full days iwill maintain in the middle of this highway leading to saragossa, thatthesedies disguised as Éäpherdesses, who are here present, are thefairest and most courteous maidens in the world, excepting only thepeerless dulcinea del toboso, sole mistress of my thoughts, be it saidwithout offence to those who hear me,dies and gentlemen." on hearing this sancho, who had been listening with great attention,cried out in a loud voice, "is it possible there is anyone in theworld who will dare to say and swear that this master of mine is amadman? say, gentlemen Éäpherds, is there a vige priest, be heever so wise or learned, who could say what my master has said; oris there knight-errant, whatever renown he may have as a man ofvalour, that could offer what my master has offered now?" don quixote turned upon sancho, and with a countenance glowingwith anger said to him, "is it possible, sancho, there is anyone inthe whole world who will say thou art not a fool, with a lining tomatch, and i know not what trimmings of impertinence and roguery?who asked thee to meddle in my affairs, or to inquire whether i am awise man or a blockhead? hold thy peace; answer me not a word;saddle rocinante if he be unsaddled; and let us go to put my offerinto execution; for with the right that i have on my side thoumayest reckon as vanquiÉäd all who shall venture to question it;" andin a great rage, and showing his anger inly, he rose from his seat,leaving thepany lost in wonder, and making them feel doubtfulwhether they ought to regard him as a madman or a rational being. inthe end, though they sought to dissuade him from involving himselfin such a ²ållenge, assuring him they admitted his gratitude as fullyestabliÉäd, and needed no fresh proofs to be convinced of his valiantspirit, as those rted in the history of his exploits weresufficient, still don quixote persisted in his resolve; and mounted onrocinante, bracing his buckler on his arm and grasping hisnce, heposted himself in the middle of a high road that was not far fromthe green meadow. sancho followed on dapple, together with all themembers of the pastoral gathering, eager to see what would be theupshot of his vainglorious and extraordinary proposal.
µÚ188Ò³ don quixote, then, having, as has been said, nted himself inthe middle of the road, made the welkin ring with words to thiseffect: "ho ye travellers and wayfarers, knights, squires, folk onfoot or on horseback, who pass this way or shall pass in the course ofthe next two days! know that don quixote of man²å,knight-errant, is posted here to maintain by arms that the beautyand courtesy enshrined in the nymphs that dwell in these meadows andgroves surpass all upon earth, putting aside thedy of my heart,dulcinea del toboso. wherefore, let him who is of the opposite opinioe on, for here i await him." twice he repeated the same words, and twice they fell unheard by anyadventurer; but fate, that was guiding affairs for him from betterto better, so ordered it that shortly afterwards there appeared on theroad a crowd of men on horseback, many of them withnces in theirhands, all riding in apact body and in great haste. no soonerhad those who were with don quixote seen them than they turned aboutand withdrew to some distance from the road, for they knew that ifthey stayed some harm mighte to them; but don quixote withintrepid heart stood his ground, and sancho panza shielded himselfwith rocinantes hind-quarters. the troop ofncers came up, andone of them who was in advance began shouting to don quixote, "get outof the way, you son of the devil, or these bulls will knock you topieces!" "rabble!" returned don quixote, "i care nothing for bulls, be theythe fiercest jarama breeds on its banks. confess at once,scoundrels, that what i have dered is true; else ye have to dealwith me inbat." the herdsman had no time to reply, nor don quixote to get out of theway even if he wiÉäd; and so the drove of fierce bulls and tamebullocks, together with the crowd of herdsmen and others who weretaking them to be penned up in a vige where they were to be run thenext day, passed over don quixote and over sancho, rocinante anddapple, hurling them all to the earth and rolling them over on theground. sancho was left cruÉäd, don quixote scared, dapple bbouredand rocinante in no very sound condition. they all got up, however, atlength, and don quixote in great haste, stumbling here and fallingthere, started off running after the drove, shouting out, "hold! stay!ye rascally rabble, a single knight awaits you, and he is not of thetemper or opinion of those who say, for a flying enemy make abridge of silver." the retreating party in their haste, however,did not stop for that, or heed his menaces any more thanst yearsclouds. weariness brought don quixote to a halt, and more enraged thanavenged he sat down on the road to wait until sancho, rocinante anddapple came up. when they reached him master and man mounted oncemore, and without going back to bid farewell to the mock orimitation arcadia, and more in humiliation than contentment, theycontinued their journey.²åpter lix wherein is rted the strange thing, which may be regarded as anadventure, that happened don quixote a clear limpid spring which they discovered in a cool grove relieveddon quixote and sancho of the dust and fatigue due to the unpolitebehaviour of the bulls, and by the side of this, having turneddapple and rocinante loose without headstall or bridle, the forlornpair, master and man, seated themselves. sancho had recourse to thrder of his alforjas and took out of them what he called the prog;don quixote rinsed his mouth and bathed his face, by which coolingprocess his gging energies were revived. out of pure vexation heremained without eating, and out of pure politeness sancho did notventure to touch a morsel of what was before him, but waited for hismaster to act as taster. seeing, however, that, absorbed in thought,he was forgetting to carry the bread to his mouth, he said never aword, and trampling every sort of good breeding under foot, began tostow away in his paunch the bread and cheese that came to his hand. "eat, sancho my friend," said don quixote; "support life, which isof more consequence to thee than to me, and leave me to die underthe pain of my thoughts and pressure of my misfortunes. i was born,sancho, to live dying, and thou to die eating; and to prove thetruth of what i say, look at me, printed in histories, famed inarms, courteous in behaviour, honoured by princes, courted by maidens;and after all, when i looked forward to palms, triumphs, and crowns,won and earned by my valiant deeds, i have this morning seen myselftrampled on, kicked, and cruÉäd by the feet of unclean and filthyanimals. this thought blunts my teeth, paralyses my jaws, cramps myhands, and robs me of all appetite for food; so much so that i havea mind to let myself die of hunger, the cruelest death of all deaths." "so then," said sancho, munching hard all the time, "your worshipdoes not agree with the proverb that says, let martha die, but lether die with a full belly. i, at any rate, have no mind to killmyself; so far from that, i mean to do as the cobbler does, whostretches the leather with his teeth until he makes it reach as far aÉä wants. ill stretch out my life by eating until it reaches theend heaven has fixed for it; and let me tell you, senor, theres nogreater folly than to think of dying of despair as your worshipdoes; take my advice, and after eating lie down and sleep a bit onthis green grass-mattress, and you will see that when you awake youllfeel something better." don quixote did as he rmended, for it struck him that sanchosreasoning was more like a philosophers than a blockheads, and saidhe, "sancho, if thou wilt do for me what i am going to tell thee myease of mind would be more assured and my heaviness of heart not sogreat; and it is this; to go aside a little while i am sleeping inordance with thy advice, and, making bare thy carcase to the air,to give thyself three or four hundredÉäs with rocinantes reins,on ount of the three thousand and odd thou art to give thyselffor the disen²åntment of dulcinea; for it is a great pity that thepoordy should be left en²ånted through thy carelessness andnegligence." "there is a good deal to be said on that point," said sancho; "letus both go to sleep now, and after that, god has decreed what willhappen. let me tell your worship that for a man to whip himself incold blood is a hard thing, especially if the stripes fall upon anill-nouriÉäd and worse-fed body. let mydy dulcinea havepatience, and when Éä is least expecting it, Éä will see me made ariddle of with whipping, and until death its all life; i meanthat i have still life in me, and the desire to make good what ihave promised." don quixote thanked him, and ate a little, and sancho a good deal,and then they bothy down to sleep, leaving those two inseparablefriends andrades, rocinante and dapple, to their own devices andto feed unrestrained upon the abundant grass with which the meadow wasfurniÉäd. they woke up ratherte, mounted once more and resumedtheir journey, pushing on to reach an inn which was in sight,apparently a league off. i say an inn, because don quixote called itso, contrary to his usual practice of calling all inns castles. theyreached it, and asked thendlord if they could put up there. he saidyes, with as muchfort and as good fare as they could find insaragossa. they dismounted, and sancho stowed away hisrder in aroom of which thendlord gave him the key. he took the beasts to thestable, fed them, and came back to see what orders don quixote, whowas seated on a bench at the door, had for him, giving specialthanks to heaven that this inn had not been taken for a castle byhis master. supper-time came, and they repaired to their room, andsancho asked thendlord what he had to give them for supper. to thisthendlord replied that his mouth should be the measure; he had onlyto ask what he would; for that inn was provided with the birds ofthe air and the fowls of the earth and the fish of the sea. "theres no need of all that," said sancho; "if theyll roast us acouple of chickens well be satisfied, for my master is delicate andeats little, and im not over and above gluttonous." thendlord replied he had no chickens, for the kites had stolenthem. "well then," said sancho, "let senorndlord tell them to roast apullet, so that it is a tender one." "pullet! my father!" said thendlord; "indeed and in truth itsonly yesterday i sent over fifty to the city to sell; but savingpullets ask what you will." "in that case," said sancho, "you will not be without veal or kid." "just now," said thendlord, "theres none in the house, forits all finiÉäd; but next week there will he enough and to spare." "much good that does us," said sancho; "illy a bet that allthese shortings are going to wind up in plenty of bacon and eggs." "by god," said thendlord, "my guests wits must he precious dull;i tell him i have neither pullets nor hens, and he wants me to haveeggs! talk of other dainties, if you please, and dont ask for hensagain." "body o me!" said sancho, "lets settle the matter; say at oncewhat you have got, and let us have no more words about it." "in truth and earnest, senor guest," said thendlord, "all ihave is a couple of cow-heels like calves feet, or a couple ofcalves feet like cowheels; they are boiled with chick-peas, onions,and bacon, and at this moment they are cryinge eat me,e eatme."
µÚ189Ò³ "i mark them for mine on the spot," said sancho; "let nobody touchthem; ill pay better for them than anyone else, for i could notwish for anything more to my taste; and i dont care a pin whetherthey are feet or heels." "nobody shall touch them," said thendlord; "for the otherguests i have, being persons of high quality, bring their own cook andcaterer andrder with them." "if youe to people of quality," said sancho, "theres nobodymore so than my master; but the calling he follows does not allow orders or store-rooms; wey ourselves down in the middle of ameadow, and fill ourselves with acorns or mers." here ended sanchos conversation with thendlord, sancho notcaring to carry it any farther by answering him; for he had alreadyasked him what calling or what profession it was his master was of. supper-time havinge, then, don quixote betook himself to hisroom, thendlord brought in the stew-pan just as it was, and hesat himself down to sup very resolutely. it seems that in anotherroom, which was next to don quixotes, with nothing but a thinpartition to separate it, he overheard these words, "as you live,senor don jeronimo, while they are bringing supper, let us readanother ²åpter of the second part of don quixote of man²å." the instant don quixote heard his own name be started to his feetand listened with open ears to catch what they said about him, andheard the don jeronimo who had been addressed say in reply, "why wouldyou have us read that absurd stuff, don juan, when it is impossiblefor anyone who has read the first part of the history of donquixote of man²å to take any pleasure in reading this secondpart?" "for all that," said he who was addressed as don juan, "we shalldo well to read it, for there is no book so bad but it has somethinggood in it. what displeases me most in it is that it represents donquixote as now cured of his love for dulcinea del toboso." on hearing this don quixote, full of wrath and indignation, liftedup his voice and said, "whoever he may be who says that don quixote o man²å has forgotten or can forget dulcinea del toboso, i willteach him with equal arms that what he says is very far from thetruth; for neither can the peerless dulcinea del toboso beforgotten, nor can forgetfulness have a ce in don quixote; hismotto is constancy, and his profession to maintain the same with hislife and never wrong it." "who is this that answers us?" said they in the next room. "who should it be," said sancho, "but don quixote of man²åhimself, who will make good all he has said and all he will say; forpledges dont trouble a good payer." sancho had hardly uttered these words when two gentlemen, for suchthey seemed to be, entered the room, and one of them, throwing hisarms round don quixotes neck, said to him, "your appearance cannotleave any question as to your name, nor can your name fail to identifyyour appearance; unquestionably, senor, you are the real don quixoteof man²å, cynosure and morning star of knight-errantry, despiteand in defiance of him who has sought to usurp your name and bringto naught your achievements, as the author of this book which i herepresent to you has done;" and with this he put a book which hipanion carried into the hands of don quixote, who took it, andwithout replying began to run his eye over it; but he presentlyreturned it saying, "in the little i have seen i have discovered threethings in this author that deserve to be censured. the first is somewords that i have read in the preface; the next that thenguage isaragonese, for sometimes he writes without articles; and the third,which above all stamps him as ignorant, is that he goes wrong anddeparts from the truth in the most important part of the history,for here he says that my squire sancho panzas wife is called marigutierrez, when Éä is called nothing of the sort, but teresa panza;and when a man errs on such an important point as this there is goodreason to fear that he is in error on every other point in thehistory." "a nice sort of historian, indeed!" eximed sancho at this; "hemust know a deal about our affairs when he calls my wife teresa panza,mari gutierrez; take the book again, senor, and see if i am in itand if he has ²ånged my name." "from your talk, friend," said don jeronimo, "no doubt you aresancho panza, senor don quixotes squire." "yes, i am," said sancho; "and im proud of it." "faith, then," said the gentleman, "this new author does nothandle you with the decency that disys itself in your person; hemakes you out a heavy feeder and a fool, and not in the least droll,and a very different being from the sancho described in the first partof your masters history." "god forgive him," said sancho; "he might have left me in mycorner without troubling his head about me; let him who knows howring the bells; saint peter is very well in rome." the two gentlemen pressed don quixote toe into their room andhave supper with them, as they knew very well there was nothing inthat inn fit for one of his sort. don quixote, who was alwayspolite, yielded to their request and supped with them. sancho stayedbehind with the stew. and invested with plenary delegated authorityseated himself at the head of the table, and thendlord sat downwith him, for he was no less fond of cow-heel and calves feet thansancho was. while at supper don juan asked don quixote what news he had of thdy dulcinea del toboso, was Éä married, had Éä been brought tobed, or was Éä with child, or did Éä in maidenhood, still preservingher modesty and delicacy, cherish the remembrance of the tenderpassion of senor don quixote? to this he replied, "dulcinea is a maiden still, and my passion morefirmly rooted than ever, our intercourse unsatisfactory as before, andher beauty transformed into that of a foul country wench;" and then heproceeded to give them a full and particr ount of theen²åntment of dulcinea, and of what had happened him in the cave ofmontesinos, together with what the sage merlin had prescribed forher disen²åntment, namely the scourging of sancho. exceedingly great was the amusement the two gentlemen derived fromhearing don quixote recount the strange incidents of his history;and if they were amazed by his absurdities they were equally amazed bythe elegant style in which he delivered them. on the one hand theyregarded him as a man of wit and sense, and on the other he seemedto them a maundering blockhead, and they could not make up their mindswhereabouts between wisdom and folly they ought to ce him. sancho having finiÉäd his supper, and left thendlord in the xcondition, repaired to the room where his master was, and as he camein said, "may i die, sirs, if the author of this book your worshipshave got has any mind that we should agree; as he calls me glutton£¨ording to what your worships say£© i wish he may not call medrunkard too." "but he does," said don jeronimo; "i cannot remember, however, inwhat way, though i know his words are offensive, and what is more,lying, as i can see inly by the physiognomy of the worthy sanchobefore me." "believe me," said sancho, "the sancho and the don quixote of thishistory must be different persons from those that appear in the onecide hamete benengeli wrote, who are ourselves; my master valiant,wise, and true in love, and i simple, droll, and neither glutton nordrunkard." "i believe it," said don juan; "and were it possible, an ordershould be issued that no one should have the presumption to dealwith anything rting to don quixote, save his original author cidehamete; just as alexandermanded that no one should presume topaint his portrait save apelles." "let him who will paint me," said don quixote; "but let him notabuse me; for patience will often break down when they heap insultsupon it." "none can be offered to senor don quixote," said don juan, "thathe himself will not be able to avenge, if he does not ward it off withthe shield of his patience, which, i take it, is great and strong." a considerable portion of the night passed in conversation of thissort, and though don juan wiÉäd don quixote to read more of thebook to see what it was all about, he was not to be prevailed upon,saying that he treated it as read and pronounced it utterly silly;and, if by any ²ånce it shoulde to its authors ears that hehad it in his hand, he did not want him to tter himself with theidea that he had read it; for our thoughts, and still more our eyes,should keep themselves aloof from what is obscene and filthy. they asked him whither he meant to direct his steps. he replied,to saragossa, to take part in the harness jousts which were held inthat city every year. don juan told him that the new history describedhow don quixote, let him be who he might, took part there in a tiltingat the ring, utterly devoid of invention, poor in mottoes, very poorin costume, though rich in sillinesses. "for that very reason," said don quixote, "i will not set foot insaragossa; and by that means i shall expose to the world the lie ofthis new history writer, and people will see that i am not the donquixote he speaks of."
µÚ190Ò³ "you will do quite right," said don jeronimo; "and there are otherjousts at barcelona in which senor don quixote may disy hisprowess." "that is what i mean to do," said don quixote; "and as it is nowtime, i pray your worships to give me leave to retire to bed, and toce and retain me among the number of your greatest friends andservants." "and me too," said sancho; "maybe ill be good for something." with this they ex²ånged farewells, and don quixote and sanchoretired to their room, leaving don juan and don jeronimo amazed to seethe medley he made of his good sense and his craziness; and theyfelt thoroughly convinced that these, and not those their aragoneseauthor described, were the genuine don quixote and sancho. don quixoterose betimes, and bade adieu to his hosts by knocking at the partitionof the other room. sancho paid thendlord magnificently, andrmended him either to say less about the providing of his inn orto keep it better provided.²åpter lx of what happened don quixote on his way to barcelona it was a fresh morning giving promise of a cool day as don quixotequitted the inn, first of all taking care to ascertain the most directroad to barcelona without touching upon saragossa; so anxious was heto make out this new historian, who they said abused him so, to be aliar. well, as it fell out, nothing worthy of being recordedhappened him for six days, at the end of which, having turned asideout of the road, he was overtaken by night in a thicket of oak or corktrees; for on this point cide hamete is not as precise as he usuallyis on other matters. master and man dismounted from their beasts, and as soon as they hadsettled themselves at the foot of the trees, sancho, who had had agood noontide meal that day, let himself, without more ado, pass thegates of sleep. but don quixote, whom his thoughts, far more thanhunger, kept awake, could not close an eye, and roamed in fancy to andfro through all sorts of ces. at one moment it seemed to him thathe was in the cave of montesinos and saw dulcinea, transformed intoa country wench, skipping and mounting upon her Éä-ass; again thatthe words of the sage merlin were sounding in his ears, settingforth the conditions to be observed and the exertions to be made forthe disen²åntment of dulcinea. he lost all patience when heconsidered theziness and want of ²årity of his squire sancho;for to the best of his belief he had only given himself fiveÉäs, anumber paltry and disproportioned to the vast number required. at thisthought he felt such vexation and anger that he reasoned the matterthus: "if alexander the great cut the gordian knot, saying, to cues to the same thing as to untie, and yet did not fail to belord paramount of all asia, neither more nor less could happen nowin dulcineas disen²åntment if i scourge sancho against his will;for, if it is the condition of the remedy that sancho shall receivethree thousand and oddÉäs, what does it matter to me whether heinflicts them himself, or some one else inflicts them, when theessential point is that he receives them, let theme fromwhatever quarter they may?" with this idea he went over to sancho, having first takenrocinantes reins and arranged them so as to be able to flog himwith them, and began to untie the points £¨themon belief is hehad but one in front£© by which his breeches were held up; but theinstant he approached him sancho woke up in his full senses andcried out, "what is this? who is touching me and untrussing me?" "it is i," said don quixote, "and ie to make good thyshorings and relieve my own distresses; ie to whip thee,sancho, and wipe off some portion of the debt thou hast undertaken.dulcinea is perishing, thou art living on regardless, i am dying ofhope deferred; therefore untruss thyself with a good will, for mine itis, here, in this retired spot, to give thee at least two thousanÉäs." "not a bit of it," said sancho; "let your worship keep quiet, orelse by the living god the deaf shall hear us; theÉäs i pledgedmyself to must be voluntary and not forced upon me, and just now ihave no fancy to whip myself; it is enough if i give you my word toflog and p myself when i have a mind." "it will not do to leave it to thy courtesy, sancho," said donquixote, "for thou art hard of heart and, though a clown, tender offlesh;" and at the same time he strove and struggled to untie him. seeing this sancho got up, and grappling with his master hegripped him with all his might in his arms, giving him a trip with theheel stretched him on the ground on his back, and pressing his rightknee on his chest held his hands in his own so that he could neithermove nor breathe. "how now, traitor!" eximed don quixote. "dost thou revolt againstthy master and natural lord? dost thou rise against him who gives theehis bread?" "i neither put down king, nor set up king," said sancho; "i onlystand up for myself who am my own lord; if your worship promises me tobe quiet, and not to offer to whip me now, ill let you go free andunhindered; if not- traitor and dona san²ås foe, thou diest on the spot." don quixote gave his promise, and swore by the life of histhoughts not to touch so much as a hair of his garments, and toleave him entirely free and to his own discretion to whip himselfwhenever he pleased. sancho rose and removed some distance from the spot, but as he wasabout to ce himself leaning against another tree he feltsomething touch his head, and putting up his hands encounteredsomebodys two feet with shoes and stockings on them. he trembled withfear and made for another tree, where the very same thing happenedto him, and he fell a-shouting, calling upon don quixote toe andprotect him. don quixote did so, and asked him what had happened tohim, and what he was afraid of. sancho replied that all the trees werefull of mens feet and legs. don quixote felt them, and guessed atonce what it was, and said to sancho, "thou hast nothing to beafraid of, for these feet and legs that thou feelest but canst not seebelong no doubt to some ouws and freebooters that have beenhanged on these trees; for the authorities in these parts are wontto hang them up by twenties and thirties when they catch them; wherebyi conjecture that i must be near barcelona;" and it was, in fact, aÉä supposed; with the first light they looked up and saw that thefruit hanging on those trees were freebooters bodies. and now day dawned; and if the dead freebooters had scared them,their hearts were no less troubled by upwards of forty living ones,who all of a sudden surrounded them, and in the catn tongue badethem stand and wait until their captain came up. don quixote was onfoot with his horse unbridled and hisnce leaning against a tree,and in shortpletely defenceless; he thought it best therefore tofold his arms and bow his head and reserve himself for a morefavourable asion and opportunity. the robbers made haste tosearch dapple, and did not leave him a single thing of all hecarried in the alforjas and in the valise; and lucky it was for sanchothat the dukes crowns and those he brought from home were in a girdlethat he wore round him; but for all that these good folk would havestripped him, and even looked to see what he had hidden between theskin and flesh, but for the arrival at that moment of their captain,who was about thirty-four years of age apparently, strongly built,above the middle height, of stern aspect and swarthyplexion. hewas mounted upon a powerful horse, and had on a coat of mail, withfour of the pistols they call petronels in that country at hiswaist. he saw that his squires £¨for so they call those who follow thattrade£© were about to rifle sancho panza, but he ordered them to desistand was at once obeyed, so the girdle escaped. he wondered to seethence leaning against the tree, the shield on the ground, anddon quixote in armour and dejected, with the saddest and mostmncholy face that sadness itself could produce; and going up to himhe said, "be not so cast down, good man, for you have not falleninto the hands of any inhuman busiris, but into roque guinarts, whi²åre more merciful than cruel." "the cause of my dejection," returned don quixote, "is not that ihave fallen into thy hands, o valiant roque, whose fame is boundedby no limits on earth, but that my carelessness should have been sogreat that thy soldiers should have caught me unbridled, when it is myduty, ording to the rule of knight-errantry which i profess, tobe always on the alert and at all times my own sentinel; for let metell thee, great roque, had they found me on my horse, with mynceand shield, it would not have been very easy for them to reduce meto submission, for i am don quixote of man²å, he who hath filledthe whole world with his achievements." roque guinart at once perceived that don quixotes weakness was moreakin to madness than to swagger; and though he had sometimes heard himspoken of, he never regarded the things attributed to him as true, norcould he persuade himself that such a humour could be dominantin the heart of man; he was extremely d, therefore, to meet him andtest at close quarters what he had heard of him at a distance; so hesaid to him, "despair not, valiant knight, nor regard as an untowardfate the position in which thou findest thyself; it may be that bythese slips thy crooked fortune will make itself straight; forheaven by strange circuitous ways, mysterious and iprehensibleto man, raises up the fallen and makes rich the poor."
µÚ191Ò³ don quixote was about to thank him, when they heard behind them anoise as of a troop of horses; there was, however, but one, ridingon which at a furious pace came a youth, apparently about twenty yearsof age, d in green damask edged with gold and breeches and aloose frock, with a hat looped up in the walloon fashion,tight-fitting poliÉäd boots, gilt spurs, dagger and sword, and in hishand a musketoon, and a pair of pistols at his waist. roque turned round at the noise and perceived thisely figure,which drawing near thus addressed him, "i came in quest of thee,valiant roque, to find in thee if not a remedy at least relief in mymisfortune; and not to keep thee in suspense, for i see thou dostnot recognise me, i will tell thee who i am; i am udia jeronima,the daughter of simon forte, thy good friend, and special enemy ofuquel torres, who is thine also as being of the factionopposed to thee. thou knowest that this torres has a son who iscalled, or at least was not two hours since, don vicente torres.well, to cut short the tale of my misfortune, i will tell thee in afew words what this youth has brought upon me. he saw me, he paidcourt to me, i listened to him, and, unknown to my father, i lovedhim; for there is no woman, however secluded Éä may live or close Éämay be kept, who will not have opportunities and to spare forfollowing her headlong impulses. in a word, he pledged himself to bemine, and i promised to be his, without carrying matters anyfurther. yesterday i learned that, forgetful of his pledge to me, hewas about to marry another, and that he was to go this morning toplight his troth, intelligence which overwhelmed and exasperated me;my father not being at home i was able to adopt this costume yousee, and urging my horse to speed i overtook don vicente about aleague from this, and without waiting to utter reproaches or hearexcuses i fired this musket at him, and these two pistols besides, andto the best of my belief i must have lodged more than two bullets inhis body, opening doors to let my honour go free, enveloped in hisblood. i left him there in the hands of his servants, who did not dareand were not able to interfere in his defence, and ie to seek fromthee a safe-conduct into france, where i have rtives with whom ican live; and also to implore thee to protect my father, so that donvicentes numerous kinsmen may not venture to wreak theirwlessvengeance upon him." roque, filled with admiration at the gant bearing, high spiritely figure, and adventure of the fair udia, said to her,"e, senora, let us go and see if thy enemy is dead; and then wewill consider what will be best for thee." don quixote, who had beenlistening to what udia said and roque guinart said in reply to her,eximed, "nobody need trouble himself with the defence of thisdy,for i take it upon myself. give me my horse and arms, and wait forme here; i will go in quest of this knight, and dead or alive i willmake him keep his word plighted to so great beauty." "nobody need have any doubt about that," said sancho, "for my masterhas a very happy knack of matchmaking; its not many days since heforced another man to marry, who in the same way backed out of hispromise to another maiden; and if it had not been for hispersecutors the en²ånters ²ånging the mans proper shape into cqueys the said maiden would not be one this minute." roque, who was paying more attention to the fair udias adventurethan to the words of master or man, did not hear them; and orderinghis squires to restore to sancho everything they had stripped dappleof, he directed them to return to the ce where they had beenquartered during the night, and then set off with udia at fullspeed in search of the wounded or in don vicente. they reachedthe spot where udia met him, but found nothing there save freshlyspilt blood; looking all round, however, they descried some peopleon the slope of a hill above them, and concluded, as indeed itproved to be, that it was don vicente, whom either dead or alive hisservants were removing to attend to his wounds or to bury him. theymade haste to overtake them, which, as the party moved slowly, theywere able to do with ease. they found don vicente in the arms of hisservants, whom he was entreating in a broken feeble voice to leave himthere to die, as the pain of his wounds would not suffer him to go anyfarther. udia and roque threw themselves off their horses andadvanced towards him; the servants were overawed by the appearanceof roque, and udia was moved by the sight of don vicente, and goingup to him half tenderly half sternly, Éä seized his hand and saidto him, "hadst thou given me this ording to ourpact thouhadst nevere to this pass." the wounded gentleman opened his all but closed eyes, andrecognising udia said, "i see clearly, fair and mistakendy, thatit is thou that hast in me, a punishment not merited or deserved bymy feelings towards thee, for never did i mean to, nor could i,wrong thee in thought or deed." "it is not true, then," said udia, "that thou wert going thismorning to marry leonora the daughter of the rich balvastro?" "assuredly not," replied don vicente; "my cruel fortune must havecarried those tidings to thee to drive thee in thy jealousy to take mylife; and to assure thyself of this, press my hands and take me forthy husband if thou wilt; i have no better satisfaction to offerthee for the wrong thou fanciest thou hast received from me." udia wrung his hands, and her own heart was so wrung that Éäyfainting on the bleeding breast of don vicente, whom a death spasmseized the same instant. roque was in perplexity and knew not whatto do; the servants ran to fetch water to sprinkle their faces, andbrought some and bathed them with it. udia recovered from herfainting fit, but not so don vicente from the paroxysm that hadovertaken him, for his life hade to an end. on perceiving this,udia, when Éä had convinced herself that her beloved husband wasno more, rent the air with her sighs and made the heavens ring withhermentations; Éä tore her hair and scattered it to the winds, Éäbeat her face with her hands and showed all the signs of grief andsorrow that could be conceived toe from an afflicted heart."cruel, reckless woman!" Éä cried, "how easily wert thou moved tocarry out a thought so wicked! o furious force of jealousy, to whatdesperate lengths dost thou lead those that give thee lodging in theirbosoms! o husband, whose unhappy fate in being mine hath borne theefrom the marriage bed to the grave!" so vehement and so piteous were thementations of udia thatthey drew tears from roques eyes, unused as they were to Éäd them onany asion. the servants wept, udia swooned away again and again,and the whole ce seemed a field of sorrow and an abode ofmisfortune. in the end roque guinart directed don vicentes servantsto carry his body to his fathers vige, which was close by, forburial. udia told him Éä meant to go to a monastery of which anaunt of hers was abbess, where Éä intended to pass her life with abetter and evesting spouse. he apuded her pious resolution,and offered to apany her whithersoever Éä wiÉäd, and toprotect her father against the kinsmen of don vicente and all theworld, should they seek to injure him. udia would not on anyount allow him to apany her; and thanking him for his offers aswell as Éä could, took leave of him in tears. the servants of donvicente carried away his body, and roque returned to hisrades, andso ended the love of udia jeronima; but what wonder, when it wasthe insuperable and cruel might of jealousy that wove the web of hersad story? roque guinart found his squires at the ce to which he had orderedthem, and don quixote on rocinante in the midst of them delivering aharangue to them in which he urged them to give up a mode of life sofull of peril, as well to the soul as to the body; but as most of themwere gascons, roughwless fellows, his speech did not make muchimpression on them. roque oning up asked sancho if his men hadreturned and restored to him the treasures and jewels they hadstripped off dapple. sancho said they had, but that three kerchiefsthat were worth three cities were missing. "what are you talking about, man?" said one of the bystanders; "ihave got them, and they are not worth three reals." "that is true," said don quixote; "but my squire values them atthe rate he says, as having been given me by the person who gavethem." roque guinart ordered them to be restored at once; and making hismen fall in in line he directed all the clothing, jewellery, and moneythat they had taken since thest distribution to be produced; andmaking a hasty valuation, and reducing what could not be dividedinto money, he made shares for the whole band so equitably andcarefully, that in no case did he exceed or fall short of strictdistributive justice. when this had been done, and all left satisfied, roque observed todon quixote, "if this scrupulous exactness were not observed withthese fellows there would be no living with them." upon this sancho remarked, "from what i have seen here, justice issuch a good thing that there is no doing without it, even among thethieves themselves." one of the squires heard this, and raising the butt-end of hisharquebuss would no doubt have broken sanchos head with it had notroque guinart called out to him to hold his hand. sancho wasfrightened out of his wits, and vowed not to open his lips so longas he was in thepany of these people.
µÚ192Ò³ at this instant one or two of those squires who were posted assentinels on the roads, to watch who came along them and report whatpassed to their chief, came up and said, "senor, there is a greattroop of people not far offing along the road to barcelona." to which roque replied, "hast thou made out whether they are ofthe sort that are after us, or of the sort we are after?" "the sort we are after," said the squire. "well then, away with you all," said roque, "and bring them hereto me at once without letting one of them escape." they obeyed, and don quixote, sancho, and roque, left by themselves,waited to see what the squires brought, and while they were waitingroque said to don quixote, "it must seem a strange sort of life tosenor don quixote, this of ours, strange adventures, strangeincidents, and all full of danger; and i do not wonder that itshould seem so, for in truth i must own there is no mode of lifemore restless or anxious than ours. what led me into it was acertain thirst for vengeance, which is strong enough to disturb thequietest hearts. i am by nature tender-hearted and kindly, but, as isaid, the desire to revenge myself for a wrong that was done me sooverturns all my better impulses that i keep on in this way of life inspite of what conscience tells me; and as one depth calls toanother, and one sin to another sin, revenges have linked themselvestogether, and i have taken upon myself not only my own but those ofothers: it pleases god, however, that, though i see myself in thismaze of entanglements, i do not lose all hope of escaping from itand reaching a safe port." don quixote was amazed to hear roque utter such excellent and justsentiments, for he did not think that among those who followed suchtrades as robbing, murdering, and waying, there could be anyonecapable of a virtuous thought, and he said in reply, "senor roque, thebeginning of health lies in knowing the disease and in the sickmans willingness to take the medicines which the physicianprescribes; you are sick, you know what ails you, and heaven, ormore properly speaking god, who is our physician, will administermedicines that will cure you, and cure gradually, and not of asudden or by a miracle; besides, sinners of discernment are neareramendment than those who are fools; and as your worship has shown goodsense in your remarks, all you have to do is to keep up a good heartand trust that the weakness of your conscience will be strengthened.and if you have any desire to shorten the journey and put yourselfeasily in the way of salvation,e with me, and i will show youhow to be a knight-errant, a calling wherein so many hardships andmishaps are encountered that if they be taken as penances they willlodge you in heaven in a trice." roqueughed at don quixotes exhortation, and ²ånging theconversation he rted the tragic affair of udia jeronima, atwhich sancho was extremely grieved; for he had not found the youngwomans beauty, boldness, and spirit at all amiss. and now the squires despatched to make the prize came up, bringingwith them two gentlemen on horseback, two pilgrims on foot, and acoach full of women with some six servants on foot and on horseback inattendance on them, and a couple of muleteers whom the gentlemen hadwith them. the squires made a ring round them, both victors andvanquiÉäd maintaining profound silence, waiting for the great roqueguinart to speak. he asked the gentlemen who they were, whither theywere going, and what money they carried with them; "senor," repliedone of them, "we are two captains of spanish infantry; ourpaniesare at naples, and we are on our way to embark in four galleys whichthey say are at barcelona under orders for sicily; and we have abouttwo or three hundred crowns, with which we are, ording to ournotions, rich and contented, for a soldiers poverty does not allowa more extensive hoard." roque asked the pilgrims the same questions he had put to thecaptains, and was answered that they were going to take ship for rome,and that between them they might have about sixty reals. he asked alsowho was in the coach, whither they were bound and what money they had,and one of the men on horseback replied, "the persons in the coach aremydy dona guiomar de quinones, wife of the regent of the vicaria atnaples, her little daughter, a handmaid and a duenna; we sixservants are in attendance upon her, and the money amounts to sixhundred crowns." "so then," said roque guinart, "we have got here nine hundred crownsand sixty reals; my soldiers must number some sixty; see how muchthere falls to each, for i am a bad arithmetician." as soon as therobbers heard this they raised a shout of "long life to roque guinart,in spite of the dres that seek his ruin!" the captains showed inly the concern they felt, the regentsdywas downcast, and the pilgrims did not at all enjoy seeing theirproperty confiscated. roque kept them in suspense in this way for awhile; but he had no desire to prolong their distress, which mightbe seen a bowshot off, and turning to the captains he said, "sirs,will your worships be pleased of your courtesy to lend me sixtycrowns, and herdyship the regents wife eighty, to satisfy thisband that follows me, for it is by his singing the abbot gets hisdinner; and then you may at once proceed on your journey, free andunhindered, with a safe-conduct which i shall give you, so that if yoe across any other bands of mine that i have scattered in theseparts, they may do you no harm; for i have no intention of doinginjury to soldiers, or to any woman, especially one of quality." profuse and hearty were the expressions of gratitude with whichthe captains thanked roque for his courtesy and generosity; for suchthey regarded his leaving them their own money. senora dona guiomar dequinones wanted to throw herself out of the coach to kiss the feet andhands of the great roque, but he would not suffer it on any ount;so far from that, he begged her pardon for the wrong he had done herunder pressure of the inexorable necessities of his unfortunatecalling. the regentsdy ordered one of her servants to give theeighty crowns that had been assessed as her share at once, for thecaptains had already paid down their sixty. the pilgrims were about togive up the whole of their little hoard, but roque bade them keepquiet, and turning to his men he said, "of these crowns two fall toeach man and twenty remain over; let ten be given to these pilgrims,and the other ten to this worthy squire that he may be able to speakfavourably of this adventure;" and then having writing materials, withwhich he always went provided, brought to him, he gave them in writinga safe-conduct to the leaders of his bands; and bidding themfarewell let them go free and filled with admiration at hismagnanimity, his generous disposition, and his unusual conduct, andinclined to regard him as an alexander the great rather than anotorious robber. one of the squires observed in his mixture of gascon and catn,"this captain of ours would make a better friar than highwayman; if hewants to be so generous another time, let it be with his ownproperty and not ours." the unlucky wight did not speak so low but that roque overheard him,and drawing his sword almost split his head in two, saying, "that isthe way i punish impudent saucy fellows." they were all taken aback,and not one of them dared to utter a word, such deference did they payhim. roque then withdrew to one side and wrote a letter to a friend ofhis at barcelona, telling him that the famous don quixote ofman²å, the knight-errant of whom there was so much talk, was withhim, and was, he assured him, the drollest and wisest man in theworld; and that in four days from that date, that is to say, onsaint john the baptists day, he was going to deposit him in furmour mounted on his horse rocinante, together with his squire sanchoon an ass, in the middle of the strand of the city; and bidding himgive notice of this to his friends the niarros, that they might divertthemselves with him. he wiÉäd, he said, his enemies the cadells couldbe deprived of this pleasure; but that was impossible, because thecrazes and shrewd sayings of don quixote and the humours of his squiresancho panza could not help giving general pleasure to all theworld. he despatched the letter by one of his squires, who, ex²ångingthe costume of a highwayman for that of a peasant, made his way intobarcelona and gave it to the person to whom it was directed. ²åpter lxi of what happened don quixote on entering barcelona, together withother matters that partake of the true rather than of the ingenious don quixote passed three days and three nights with roque, and hadhe passed three hundred years he would have found enough to observeand wonder at in his mode of life. at daybreak they were in onespot, at dinner-time in another; sometimes they fled without knowingfrom whom, at other times theyy in wait, not knowing for what. theyslept standing, breaking their slumbers to shift from ce toce. there was nothing but sending out spies and scouts, postingsentinels and blowing the matches of harquebusses, though they carriedbut few, for almost all used flintlocks. roque passed his nights insome ce or other apart from his men, that they might not know wherehe was, for the many promations the viceroy of barcelona had issuedagainst his life kept him in fear and uneasiness, and he did notventure to trust anyone, afraid that even his own men would kill himor deliver him up to the authorities; of a truth, a weary miserablelife! at length, by unfrequented roads, short cuts, and secretpaths, roque, don quixote, and sancho, together with six squires,set out for barcelona. they reached the strand on saint johns eveduring the night; and roque, after embracing don quixote and sancho£¨to whom he presented the ten crowns he had promised but had not untilthen given£©£¬ left them with many expressions of good-will on bothsides.
µÚ193Ò³ roque went back, while don quixote remained on horseback, just as hewas, waiting for day, and it was not long before the countenance ofthe fair aurora began to show itself at the balconies of the east,ddening the grass and flowers, if not the ear, though to ddenthat too there came at the same moment a sound of rions anddrums, and a din of bells, and a tramp, tramp, and cries of "clear theway there!" of some runners, that seemed to issue from the city. thedawn made way for the sun that with a face broader than a bucklerbegan to rise slowly above the low line of the horizon; don quixoteand sancho gazed all round them; they beheld the sea, a sight untilthen unseen by them; it struck them as exceedingly spacious and broad,much more so than thekes of ruidera which they had seen inman²å. they saw the galleys along the beach, which, lowering theirawnings, disyed themselves decked with streamers and pennons thattrembled in the breeze and kissed and swept the water, while onboard the bugles, trumpets, and rions were sounding and filling theair far and near with melodious warlike notes. then they began to moveand execute a kind of skirmish upon the calm water, while a vastnumber of horsemen on fine horses and in showy liveries, issuingfrom the city, engaged on their side in a somewhat simr movement.the soldiers on board the galleys kept up a ceaseless fire, which theyon the walls and forts of the city returned, and the heavy cannon rentthe air with the tremendous noise they made, to which the gangway gunsof the galleys replied. the bright sea, the smiling earth, the clearair -though at times darkened by the smoke of the guns- all seemedto fill the whole multitude with unexpected delight. sancho couldnot make out how it was that those great masses that moved over thesea had so many feet. and now the horsemen in livery came galloping up with shouts andoundish cries and cheers to where don quixote stood amazed andwondering; and one of them, he to whom roque had sent word, addressinghim eximed, "wee to our city, mirror, beacon, star and cynosureof all knight-errantry in its widest extent! wee, i say, valiantdon quixote of man²å; not the false, the fictitious, theapocryphal, that thesetter days have offered us in lying histories,but the true, the legitimate, the real one that cide hamete benengeli,flower of historians, has described to us!" don quixote made no answer, nor did the horsemen wait for one, butwheeling again with all their followers, they began curvetting rounddon quixote, who, turning to sancho, said, "these gentlemen haveinly recognised us; i will wager they have read our history, andeven that newly printed one by the aragonese." the cavalier who had addressed don quixote again approached himand said, "e with us, senor don quixote, for we are all of usyour servants and great friends of roque guinarts;" to which donquixote returned, "if courtesy breeds courtesy, yours, sir knight,is daughter or very nearly akin to the great roques; carry me whereyou please; i will have no will but yours, especially if you deignto employ it in your service." the cavalier replied with words no less polite, and then, allclosing in around him, they set out with him for the city, to themusic of the rions and the drums. as they were entering it, thewicked one, who is the author of all mischief, and the boys who arewickeder than the wicked one, contrived that a couple of theseaudacious irrepressible urchins should force their way through thecrowd, and lifting up, one of them dapples tail and the otherrocinantes, insert a bunch of furze under each. the poor beastsfelt the strange spurs and added to their anguish by pressing theirtails tight, so much so that, cutting a multitude of capers, theyflung their masters to the ground. don quixote, covered with shame andout of countenance, ran to pluck the plume from his poor jadestail, while sancho did the same for dapple. his conductors tried topunish the audacity of the boys, but there was no possibility of doingso, for they hid themselves among the hundreds of others that werefollowing them. don quixote and sancho mounted once more, and with thesame music and acmations reached their conductors house, which warge and stately, that of a rich gentleman, in short; and there forthe present we will leave them, for such is cide hametes pleasure.²åpter lxii which deals with the adventure of the en²ånted head, togetherwith other trivial matters which cannot be left untold don quixotes host was one don antonio moreno by name, a gentlemanof wealth and intelligence, and very fond of diverting himself inany fair and good-natured way; and having don quixote in his househe set about devising modes of making him exhibit his mad points insome harmless fashion; for jests that give pain are no jests, and nosport is worth anything if it hurts another. the first thing he didwas to make don quixote take off his armour, and lead him, in thattight ²åmois suit we have already described and depicted more thanonce, out on a balcony overhanging one of the chief streets of thecity, in full view of the crowd and of the boys, who gazed at him asthey would at a monkey. the cavaliers in livery careered before himagain as though it were for him alone, and not to enliven the festivalof the day, that they wore it, and sancho was in high delight, forit seemed to him that, how he knew not, he had fallen upon anothercamachos wedding, another house like don diego de mirandas,another castle like the dukes. some of don antonios friends dinedwith him that day, and all showed honour to don quixote and treatedhim as a knight-errant, and he bing puffed up and exalted inconsequence could not contain himself for satisfaction. such werethe drolleries of sancho that all the servants of the house, and allwho heard him, were kept hanging upon his lips. while at table donantonio said to him, "we hear, worthy sancho, that you are so fondof manjar nco and forced-meat balls, that if you have any left, youkeep them in your bosom for the next day." "no, senor, thats not true," said sancho, "for i am more cleanlythan greedy, and my master don quixote here knows well that we two areused to live for a week on a handful of acorns or nuts. to be sure, ifit so happens that they offer me a heifer, i run with a halter; imean, i eat what im given, and make use of opportunities as i findthem; but whoever says that im an out-of-the-way eater or notcleanly, let me tell him that he is wrong; and id put it in adifferent way if i did not respect the honourable beards that are atthe table." "indeed," said don quixote, "sanchos moderation and cleanlinessin eating might be inscribed and graved on tes of brass, to be keptin eternal remembrance in ages toe. it is true that when he ishungry there is a certain appearance of voracity about him, for heeats at a great pace and chews with both jaws; but cleanliness he isalways mindful of; and when he was governor he learned how to eatdaintily, so much so that he eats grapes, and even pomegranate pips,with a fork." "what!" said don antonio, "has sancho been a governor?" "ay," said sancho, "and of an ind called barataria. i governed itto perfection for ten days; and lost my rest all the time; and learnedto look down upon all the governments in the world; i got out of it bytaking to flight, and fell into a pit where i gave myself up for dead,and out of which i escaped alive by a miracle." don quixote then gave them a minute ount of the whole affair ofsanchos government, with which he greatly amused his hearers. on the cloth being removed don antonio, taking don quixote by thehand, passed with him into a distant room in which there was nothingin the way of furniture except a table, apparently of jasper,resting on a pedestal of the same, upon which was set up, after thefashion of the busts of the roman emperors, a head which seemed tobe of bronze. don antonio traversed the whole apartment with donquixote and walked round the table several times, and then said, "now,senor don quixote, that i am satisfied that no one is listening to us,and that the door is shut, i will tell you of one of the rarestadventures, or more properly speaking strange things, that can beimagined, on condition that you will keep what i say to you in theremotest recesses of secrecy." "i swear it," said don quixote, "and for greater security i will puta g-stone over it; for i would have you know, senor don antonio"£¨he had by this time learned his name£©£¬ "that you are addressing onewho, though he has ears to hear, has no tongue to speak; so that youmay safely transfer whatever you have in your bosom into mine, andrely upon it that you have consigned it to the depths of silence." "in reliance upon that promise," said don antonio, "i wistonish you with what you shall see and hear, and relieve myself ofsome of the vexation it gives me to have no one to whom i canconfide my secrets, for they are not of a sort to be entrusted toeverybody." don quixote was puzzled, wondering what could be the object ofsuch precautions; whereupon don antonio taking his hand passed it overthe bronze head and the whole table and the pedestal of jasper onwhich it stood, and then said, "this head, senor don quixote, has beenmade and fabricated by one of the greatest magicians and wizards theworld ever saw, a pole, i believe, by birth, and a pupil of the famousescotillo of whom such marvellous stories are told. he was here inmy house, and for a consideration of a thousand crowns that i gave himhe constructed this head, which has the property and virtue ofanswering whatever questions are put to its ear. he observed thepoints of thepass, he traced figures, he studied the stars, hewatched favourable moments, and at length brought it to the perfectionwe shall see to-morrow, for on fridays it is mute, and this beingfriday we must wait till the next day. in the interval your worshipmay consider what you would like to ask it; and i know by experiencethat in all its answers it tells the truth."
µÚ194Ò³ don quixote was amazed at the virtue and property of the head, andwas inclined to disbelieve don antonio; but seeing what a short timehe had to wait to test the matter, he did not choose to say anythingexcept that he thanked him for having revealed to him so mighty asecret. they then quitted the room, don antonio locked the door, andthey repaired to the ²åmber where the rest of the gentlemen wereassembled. in the meantime sancho had recounted to them several of theadventures and idents that had happened his master. that afternoon they took don quixote out for a stroll, not in hisarmour but in street costume, with a surcoat of tawny cloth uponhim, that at that season would have made ice itself sweat. orders wereleft with the servants to entertain sancho so as not to let himleave the house. don quixote was mounted, not on rocinante, but upon atall mule of easy pace and handsomely caparisoned. they put thesurcoat on him, and on the back, without his perceiving it, theystitched a parchment on which they wrote inrge letters, "this isdon quixote of man²å." as they set out upon their excursion thecard attracted the eyes of all who ²ånced to see him, and asthey read out, "this is don quixote of man²å," don quixote wasamazed to see how many people gazed at him, called him by his name,and recognised him, and turning to don antonio, who rode at hisside, he observed to him, "great are the privileges knight-errantryinvolves, for it makes him who professes it known and famous inevery region of the earth; see, don antonio, even the very boys ofthis city know me without ever having seen me." "true, senor don quixote," returned don antonio; "for as fire cannotbe hidden or kept secret, virtue cannot escape being recognised; andthat which is attained by the profession of arms shinesdistinguiÉäd above all others." it came to pass, however, that as don quixote was proceeding amidthe acmations that have been described, a castilian, reading theinscription on his back, cried out in a loud voice, "the devil takethee for a don quixote of man²å! what! art thou here, and not deadof the countless drubbings that have fallen on thy ribs? thou art mad;and if thou wert so by thyself, and kept thyself within thy madness,it would not be so bad; but thou hast the gift of making fools andblockheads of all who have anything to do with thee or say to thee.why, look at these gentlemen bearing theepany! get thee home,blockhead, and see after thy affairs, and thy wife and children, andgive over these fooleries that are sapping thy brains and skimmingaway thy wits." "go your own way, brother," said don antonio, "and dont offeradvice to those who dont ask you for it. senor don quixote is inhis full senses, and we who bear himpany are not fools; virtueis to be honoured wherever it may be found; go, and bad luck to you,and dont meddle where you are not wanted." "by god, your worship is right," replied the castilian; "for toadvise this good man is to kick against the pricks; still for all thatit fills me with pity that the sound wit they say the blockhead has ineverything should dribble away by the ²ånnel of hisknight-errantry; but may the bad luck your worship talks of followme and all my descendants, if, from this day forth, though i shouldlive longer than methush, i ever give advice to anybody even ifhe asks me for it." the advice-giver took himself off, and they continued theirstroll; but so great was the press of the boys and people to readthe card, that don antonio was forced to remove it as if he weretaking off something else. night came and they went home, and there was adies dancingparty, for don antonios wife, ady of rank and gaiety, beauty andwit, had invited some friends of hers toe and do honour to herguest and amuse themselves with his strange delusions. several of themcame, they supped sumptuously, the dance began at about ten oclock.among thedies were two of a mischievous and frolicsome turn, and,though perfectly modest, somewhat free in ying tricks forharmless diversion sake. these two were so indefatigable in taking donquixote out to dance that they tired him down, not only in body but inspirit. it was a sight to see the figure don quixote made, long,nk,lean, and yellow, his garments clinging tight to him, ungainly, andabove all anything but agile. the gaydies made secret love tohim, and he on his part secretly repelled them, but finding himselfhard pressed by their ndishments he lifted up his voice andeximed, "fugite, partes adversae! leave me in peace, unweeovertures; avaunt, with your desires,dies, for Éä who is queenof mine, the peerless dulcinea del toboso, suffers none but hers tolead me captive and subdue me;" and so saying he sat down on the floorin the middle of the room, tired out and broken down by all thisexertion in the dance. don antonio directed him to be taken up bodily and carried to bed,and the first thatid hold of him was sancho, saying as he did so,"in an evil hour you took to dancing, master mine; do you fancy allmighty men of valour are dancers, and all knights-errant given tocapering? if you do, i can tell you you are mistaken; theres many aman would rather undertake to kill a giant than cut a caper. if it hadbeen the shoe-fling you were at i could take your ce, for i cando the shoe-fling like a gerfalcon; but im no good at dancing." with these and other observations sancho set the whole ball-rooughing, and then put his master to bed, covering him up well so thathe might sweat out any chill caught after his dancing. the next day don antonio thought he might as well make trial ofthe en²ånted head, and with don quixote, sancho, and two others,friends of his, besides the twodies that had tired out donquixote at the ball, who had remained for the night with don antonioswife, he locked himself up in the ²åmber where the head was. heexined to them the property it possessed and entrusted the secretto them, telling them that now for the first time he was going totry the virtue of the en²ånted head; but except don antonios twofriends no one else was privy to the mystery of the en²åntment, andif don antonio had not first revealed it to them they would havebeen inevitably reduced to the same state of amazement as the rest, soartfully and skilfully was it contrived. the first to approach the ear of the head was don antonio himself,and in a low voice but not so low as not to be audible to all, he saidto it, "head, tell me by the virtue that lies in thee what am i atthis moment thinking of?" the head, without any movement of the lips, answered in a clearand distinct voice, so as to be heard by all, "i cannot judge ofthoughts." all were thunderstruck at this, and all the more so as they saw thatthere was nobody anywhere near the table or in the whole room thatcould have answered. "how many of us are here?" asked don antonio oncemore; and it was answered him in the same way softly, "thou and thywife, with two friends of thine and two of hers, and a famous knightcalled don quixote of man²å, and a squire of his, sancho panzaby name." now there was fresh astonishment; now everyones hair was standingon end with awe; and don antonio retiring from the head eximed,"this suffices to show me that i have not been deceived by him whosold thee to me, o sage head, talking head, answering head,wonderful head! let some one else go and put what question he likes toit." and as women aremonly impulsive and inquisitive, the first te forward was one of the two friends of don antonios wife, and herquestion was, "tell me, head, what shall i do to be very beautiful?"and the answer Éä got was, "be very modest." "i question thee no further," said the fair querist. herpanion then came up and said, "i should like to know, head,whether my husband loves me or not;" the answer given to her was,"think how he uses thee, and thou mayest guess;" and the marriedy went off saying, "that answer did not need a question; for ofcourse the treatment one receives shows the disposition of him fromwhom it is received." then one of don antonios two friends advanced and asked it, "who ami?" "thou knowest," was the answer. "that is not what i ask thee,"said the gentleman, "but to tell me if thou knowest me." "yes, iknow thee, thou art don pedro noriz," was the reply. "i do not seek to know more," said the gentleman, "for this isenough to convince me, o head, that thou knowest everything;" and aÉä retired the other friend came forward and asked it, "tell me, head,what are the wiÉäs of my eldest son?" "i have said already," was the answer, "that i cannot judge ofwiÉäs; however, i can tell thee the wish of thy son is to bury thee." "thats what i see with my eyes i point out with my finger,"said the gentleman, "so i ask no more." don antonios wife came up and said, "i know not what to ask thee,head; i would only seek to know of thee if i shall have many yearsof enjoyment of my good husband;" and the answer Éä received was,"thou shalt, for his vigour and his temperate habits promise manyyears of life, which by their intemperance others so often cut short." then don quixote came forward and said, "tell me, thou thatanswerest, was that which i describe as having happened to me in thecave of montesinos the truth or a dream? will sanchos whipping beapliÉäd without fail? will the disen²åntment of dulcinea bebrought about?"
µÚ195Ò³ "as to the question of the cave," was the reply, "there is much tobe said; there is something of both in it. sanchos whipping willproceed leisurely. the disen²åntment of dulcinea will attain itsdue consummation." "i seek to know no more," said don quixote; "let me but see dulcineadisen²ånted, and i will consider that all the good fortune i couldwish for hase upon me all at once." thest questioner was sancho, and his questions were, "head, shalli by any ²ånce have another government? shall i ever escape fromthe hard life of a squire? shall i get back to see my wife andchildren?" to which the answer came, "thou shalt govern in thyhouse; and if thou returnest to it thou shalt see thy wife andchildren; and on ceasing to serve thou shalt cease to be a squire." "good, by god!" said sancho panza; "i could have told myself that;the prophet perogrullo could have said no more." "what answer wouldst thou have, beast?" said don quixote; "is it notenough that the replies this head has given suit the questions putto it?" "yes, it is enough," said sancho; "but i should have liked it tohave made itself iner and told me more." the questions and answers came to an end here, but not the wonderwith which all were filled, except don antonios two friends whowere in the secret. this cide hamete benengeli thought fit to revet once, not to keep the world in suspense, fancying that the head hadsome strange magical mystery in it. he says, therefore, that on themodel of another head, the work of an image maker, which he had seenat madrid, don antonio made this one at home for his own amusement andto astonish ignorant people; and its me²ånism was as follows. thetable was of wood painted and varniÉäd to imitate jasper, and thepedestal on which it stood was of the same material, with four eaglesws projecting from it to support the weight more steadily. thehead, which resembled a bust or figure of a roman emperor, and wascoloured like bronze, was hollow throughout, as was the table, intowhich it was fitted so exactly that no trace of the joining wasvisible. the pedestal of the table was also hollow andmunicatedwith the throat and neck of the head, and the whole was imunication with another room underneath the ²åmber in which thehead stood. through the entire cavity in the pedestal, table, throatand neck of the bust or figure, there passed a tube of tin carefullyadjusted and concealed from sight. in the room below correspondingto the one above was ced the person who was to answer, with hismouth to the tube, and the voice, as in an ear-trumpet, passed fromabove downwards, and from below upwards, the wordsing clearlyand distinctly; it was impossible, thus, to detect the trick. a nephewof don antonios, a smart sharp-witted student, was the answerer,and as he had been told beforehand by his uncle who the persons werethat woulde with him that day into the ²åmber where the head was,it was an easy matter for him to answer the first question at once andcorrectly; the others he answered by guess-work, and, being clever,cleverly. cide hamete adds that this marvellous contrivance stoodfor some ten or twelve days; but that, as it became noised abroadthrough the city that he had in his house an en²ånted head thatanswered all who asked questions of it, don antonio, fearing itmighte to the ears of the watchful sentinels of our faith,exined the matter to the inquisitors, whomanded him to break itup and have done with it, lest the ignorant vulgar should bescandalised. by don quixote, however, and by sancho the head was stillheld to be an en²ånted one, and capable of answering questions,though more to don quixotes satisfaction than sanchos. the gentlemen of the city, to gratify don antonio and also to do thehonours to don quixote, and give him an opportunity of disyinghis folly, made arrangements for a tilting at the ring in six daysfrom that time, which, however, for reason that will be mentionedhereafter, did not take ce. don quixote took a fancy to stroll about the city quietly and onfoot, for he feared that if he went on horseback the boys would followhim; so he and sancho and two servants that don antonio gave him setout for a walk. thus it came to pass that going along one of thestreets don quixote lifted up his eyes and saw written in veryrgeletters over a door, "books printed here," at which he was vastlypleased, for until then he had never seen a printing office, and hewas curious to know what it was like. he entered with all hisfollowing, and saw them drawing Éäets in one ce, correcting inanother, setting up type here, revising there; in short all the workthat is to be seen in great printing offices. he went up to one caseand asked what they were about there; the workmen told him, he watchedthem with wonder, and passed on. he approached one man, amongothers, and asked him what he was doing. the workman replied,"senor, this gentleman here" £¨pointing to a man of prepossessingappearance and a certain gravity of look£© "has tranted an italianbook into our spanish tongue, and i am setting it up in type for thepress." "what is the title of the book?" asked don quixote; to which theauthor replied, "senor, in italian the book is called le bagatelle." "and what does le bagatelle import in our spanish?" asked donquixote. "le bagatelle," said the author, "is as though we should say inspanish los juguetes; but though the book is humble in name it hasgood solid matter in it." "i," said don quixote, "have some little smattering of italian,and i plume myself on singing some of ariostos stanzas; but tellme, senor- i do not say this to test your ability, but merely out ofcuriosity- have you ever met with the word pignatta in your book?" "yes, often," said the author. "and how do you render that in spanish?" "how should i render it," returned the author, "but by o?" "body o me," eximed don quixote, "what a proficient you are inthe italiannguage! i wouldy a good wager that where they sayin italian piace you say in spanish ce, and where they say piuyou say mas, and you trante su by arriba and giu by abajo." "i trante them so of course," said the author, "for those aretheir proper equivalents." "i would venture to swear," said don quixote, "that your worshipis not known in the world, which always begrudges their reward to rarewits and praiseworthybours. what talents lie wasted there! whatgenius thrust away into corners! what worth left neglected! still itseems to me that trantion from onenguage into another, if itbe not from the queens ofnguages, the greek and thetin, islike looking at flemish tapestries on the wrong side; for though thefigures are visible, they are full of threads that make themindistinct, and they do not show with the smoothness and brightness ofthe right side; and trantion from easynguages argues neitheringenuity normand of words, any more than transcribing orcopying out one document from another. but i do not mean by this todraw the inference that no credit is to be allowed for the work oftranting, for a man may employ himself in ways worse and lessprofitable to himself. this estimate does not include two famoustrantors, doctor cristobal de figueroa, in his pastor fido, and donjuan de jauregui, in his aminta, wherein by their felicity theyleave it in doubt which is the trantion and which the original. buttell me, are you printing this book at your own risk, or have you soldthe copyright to some bookseller?" "i print at my own risk," said the author, "and i expect to make athousand ducats at least by this first edition, which is to be oftwo thousand copies that will go off in a twinkling at six realsapiece." "a fine calction you are making!" said don quixote; "it isin you dont know the ins and outs of the printers, and how theyy into one anothers hands. i promise you when you find yourselfsaddled with two thousand copies you will feel so sore that it wistonish you, particrly if the book is a little out of themonand not in any way highly spiced." "what!" said the author, "would your worship, then, have me giveit to a bookseller who will give three maravedis for the copyright andthink he is doing me a favour? i do not print my books to win famein the world, for i am known in it already by my works; i want to makemoney, without which reputation is not worth a rap." "god send your worship good luck," said don quixote; and he moved onto another case, where he saw them correcting a Éäet of a book withthe title of "light of the soul;" noticing it he observed, "books likethis, though there are many of the kind, are the ones that deserveto be printed, for many are the sinners in these days, and lightsunnumbered are needed for all that are in darkness." he passed on, and saw they were also correcting another book, andwhen he asked its title they told him it was called, "the secondpart of the ingenious gentleman don quixote of man²å," by one oftordesis. "i have heard of this book already," said don quixote, "and verilyand on my conscience i thought it had been by this time burned toaÉäs as a meddlesome intruder; but its martinmas wille to it asit does to every pig; for fictions have the more merit and ²årm aboutthem the more nearly they approach the truth or what looks like it;and true stories, the truer they are the better they are;" and sosaying he walked out of the printing office with a certain amount ofdispleasure in his looks. that same day don antonio arranged to takehim to see the galleys thaty at the beach, whereat sancho was inhigh delight, as he had never seen any all his life. don antoniosent word to themandant of the galleys that he intended to bringhis guest, the famous don quixote of man²å, of whom themandantand all the citizens had already heard, that afternoon to see them;and what happened on board of them will be told in the next ²åpter.²åpter lxiii
µÚ196Ò³ of the mishap that befell sancho panza through the visit to thegalleys, and the strange adventure of the fair morisco profound were don quixotes reflections on the reply of theen²ånted head, not one of them, however, hitting on the secret of thetrick, but all concentrated on the promise, which he regarded as acertainty, of dulcineas disen²åntment. this he turned over in hismind again and again with great satisfaction, fully persuaded thathe would shortly see its fulfillment; and as for sancho, though, ashas been said, he hated being a governor, still he had a longing to begiving orders and finding himself obeyed once more; this is themisfortune that being in authority, even in jest, brings with it. to resume; that afternoon their host don antonio moreno and histwo friends, with don quixote and sancho, went to the galleys. thmandant had been already made aware of his good fortune in seeingtwo such famous persons as don quixote and sancho, and the instantthey came to the shore all the galleys struck their awnings and therions rang out. a skiff covered with rich carpets and cushions ofcrimson velvet was immediately lowered into the water, and as donquixote stepped on board of it, the leading galley fired her gangwaygun, and the other galleys did the same; and as he mounted thestarboarddder the whole crew saluted him £¨as is the custom when apersonage of distinctiones on board a galley£© by eximing "hu,hu, hu," three times. the general, for so we shall call him, avalencian gentleman of rank, gave him his hand and embraced him,saying, "i shall mark this day with a white stone as one of thehappiest i can expect to enjoy in my lifetime, since i have seen senordon quixote of man²å, pattern and image wherein we see containedand condensed all that is worthy in knight-errantry." don quixote delighted beyond measure with such a lordly reception,replied to him in words no less courteous. all then proceeded to thepoop, which was very handsomely decorated, and seated themselves onthe bulwark benches; the boatswain passed along the gangway andpiped all hands to strip, which they did in an instant. sancho, seeingsuch a number of men stripped to the skin, was taken aback, andstill more when he saw them spread the awning so briskly that itseemed to him as if all the devils were at work at it; but all thiswas cakes and fancy bread to what i am going to tell now. sancho wasseated on the captains stage, close to the aftermost rower on theright-hand side. he, previously instructed in what he was to doid hold of sancho, hoisting him up in his arms, and the wholecrew, who were standing ready, beginning on the right, proceeded topass him on, whirling him along from hand to hand and from bench tobench with such rapidity that it took the sight out of poor sanchoseyes, and he made quite sure that the devils themselves were flyingaway with him; nor did they leave off with him until they had sent himback along the left side and deposited him on the poop; and the poorfellow was left bruised and breathless and all in a sweat, andunable toprehend what it was that had happened to him. don quixote when he saw sanchos flight without wings asked thegeneral if this was a usual ceremony with those who came on boardthe galleys for the first time; for, if so, as he had no intentionof adopting them as a profession, he had no mind to perform such featsof agility, and if anyone offered toy hold of him to whirl himabout, he vowed to god he would kick his soul out; and as he said thiÉä stood up and pped his hand upon his sword. at this instantthey struck the awning and lowered the yard with a prodigiousrattle. sancho thought heaven wasing off its hinges and going tofall on his head, and full of terror he ducked it and buried itbetween his knees; nor were don quixotes knees altogether undercontrol, for he too shook a little, squeezed his shoulders togetherand lost colour. the crew then hoisted the yard with the same rapidityand tter as when they lowered it, all the while keeping silenceas though they had neither voice nor breath. the boatswain gave thesignal to weigh anchor, and leaping upon the middle of the gangwaybegan toy on to the shoulders of the crew with his courbash orwhip, and to haul out gradually to sea. when sancho saw so many red feet £¨for such he took the oars to be£©moving all together, he said to himself, "its these that are the real²ånted things, and not the ones my master talks of. what can thosewretches have done to be so whipped; and how does that one man whogoes along there whistling dare to whip so many? i dere this iÉäll, or at least purgatory!" don quixote, observing how attentively sancho regarded what wasgoing on, said to him, "ah, sancho my friend, how quickly andcheaply might you finish off the disen²åntment of dulcinea, if youwould strip to the waist and take your ce among those gentlemen!amid the pain and sufferings of so many you would not feel your ownmuch; and moreover perhaps the sage merlin would allow each of thesÉäs, beingid on with a good hand, to count for ten of thosewhich you must give yourself atst." the general was about to ask what theseÉäs were, and what wasdulcineas disen²åntment, when a sailor eximed, "monjui signalsthat there is an oared vessel off the coast to the west." on hearing this the general sprang upon the gangway crying, "nowthen, my sons, dont let her give us the slip! it must be somealgerine corsair brigantine that the watchtower signals to us." thethree others immediately came alongside the chief galley to receivetheir orders. the general ordered two to put out to sea while hewith the other kept in shore, so that in this way the vessel could notescape them. the crews plied the oars driving the galleys so furiouslythat they seemed to fly. the two that had put out to sea, after acouple of miles sighted a vessel which, so far as they could make out,they judged to be one of fourteen or fifteen banks, and so Éä proved.as soon as the vessel discovered the galleys Éä went about with theobject and in the hope of making her escape by her speed; but theattempt failed, for the chief galley was one of the fastest vesselsafloat, and overhauled her so rapidly that they on board thebrigantine saw clearly there was no possibility of escaping, and therais therefore would have had them drop their oars and give themselvesup so as not to provoke the captain inmand of our galleys toanger. but ²ånce, directing things otherwise, so ordered it that justas the chief galley came close enough for those on board the vessel tohear the shouts from her calling on them to surrender, two toraquis,that is to say two turks, both drunken, that with a dozen more were onboard the brigantine, dis²årged their muskets, killing two of thesoldiers that lined the sides of our vessel. seeing this the generalswore he would not leave one of those he found on board the vesslive, but as he bore down furiously upon her Éä slipped away fromhim underneath the oars. the galley shot a good way ahead; those onboard the vessel saw their case was desperate, and while the galleywasing about they made sail, and by sailing and rowing once moretried to Éäer off; but their activity did not do them as much good astheir rashness did them harm, for the galleying up with them ina little more than half a mile threw her oars over them and took thewhole of them alive. the other two galleys now joinedpany andall four returned with the prize to the beach, where a vastmultitude stood waiting for them, eager to see what they brought back.the general anchored close in, and perceived that the viceroy of thecity was on the shore. he ordered the skiff to push off to fetchhim, and the yard to be lowered for the purpose of hanging forthwiththe rais and the rest of the men taken on board the vessel, aboutsix-and-thirty in number, all smart fellows and most of them turkishmusketeers. he asked which was the rais of the brigantine, and wasanswered in spanish by one of the prisoners £¨who afterwards provedto he a spanish renegade£©£¬ "this young man, senor that you see here isour rais," and he pointed to one of the handsomest and mostgant-looking youths that could be imagined. he did not seem to betwenty years of age. "tell me, dog," said the general, "what led thee to kill mysoldiers, when thou sawest it was impossible for thee to escape? isthat the way to behave to chief galleys? knowest thou not thatrashness is not valour? faint prospects of sess should make menbold, but not rash." the rais was about to reply, but the general could not at thatmoment listen to him, as he had to hasten to receive the viceroy,who was nowing on board the galley, and with him certain of hisattendants and some of the people. "you have had a good ²åse, senor general," said the viceroy. "your excellency shall soon see how good, by the game strung up tothis yard," replied the general. "how so?" returned the viceroy. "because," said the general, "against allw, reason, and usages ofwar they have killed on my hands two of the best soldiers on boardthese galleys, and i have sworn to hang every man that i have taken,but above all this youth who is the rais of the brigantine," and hepointed to him as he stood with his hands already bound and the roperound his neck, ready for death. the viceroy looked at him, and seeing him so well-favoured, sograceful, and so submissive, he felt a desire to spare his life, theliness of the youth furnishing him at once with a letter ofrmendation. he therefore questioned him, saying, "tell me, rais,art thou turk, moor, or renegade?"
µÚ197Ò³ to which the youth replied, also in spanish, "i am neither turk, normoor, nor renegade." "what art thou, then?" said the viceroy. "a christian woman," replied the youth. "a woman and a christian, in such a dress and in such circumstances!it is more marvellous than credible," said the viceroy. "suspend the execution of the sentence," said the youth; "yourvengeance will not lose much by waiting while i tell you the storyof my life." what heart could be so hard as not to he softened by these words, atany rate so far as to listen to what the unhappy youth had to say? thegeneral bade him say what he pleased, but not to expect pardon for hisgrant offence. with this permission the youth began in these words. "born of morisco parents, i am of that nation, more unhappy thanwise, upon which ofte a sea of woes has poured down. in thecourse of our misfortune i was carried to barbary by two uncles ofmine, for it was in vain that i dered i was a christian, as in facti am, and not a mere pretended one, or outwardly, but a truecatholic christian. it availed me nothing with those ²årged withour sad expatriation to protest this, nor would my uncles believeit; on the contrary, they treated it as an untruth and a subterfugeset up to enable me to remain behind in thend of my birth; andso, more by force than of my own will, they took me with them. i had achristian mother, and a father who was a man of sound sense and achristian too; i imbibed the catholic faith with my mothers milk, iwas well brought up, and neither in word nor in deed did i, i think,show any sign of being a morisco. to apany these virtues, for suchi hold them, my beauty, if i possess any, grew with my growth; andgreat as was the seclusion in which i lived it was not so great butthat a young gentleman, don gaspar gregorio by name, eldest son of agentleman who is lord of a vige near ours, contrived to findopportunities of seeing me. how he saw me, how we met, how his heartwas lost to me, and mine not kept from him, would take too long totell, especially at a moment when i am in dread of the cruel cord thatthreatens me interposing between tongue and throat; i will only say,therefore, that don gregorio chose to apany me in ourbanishment. he joinedpany with the moriscoes who were goingforth from other viges, for he knew theirnguage very well, andon the voyage he struck up a friendship with my two uncles who werecarrying me with them; for my father, like a wise and far-sighted man,as soon as he heard the first edict for our expulsion, quitted thevige and departed in quest of some refuge for us abroad. he lefthidden and buried, at a spot of which i alone have knowledge, rge quantity of pearls and precious stones of great value,together with a sum of money in gold cruzadoes and doubloons. he²årged me on no ount to touch the treasure, if by any ²åncethey expelled us before his return. i obeyed him, and with myuncles, as i have said, and others of our kindred and neighbours,passed over to barbary, and the ce where we took up our abode wasalgiers, much the same as if we had taken it up in hell itself. theking heard of my beauty, and report told him of my wealth, which wasin some degree fortunate for me. he summoned me before him, andasked me what part of spain i came from, and what money and jewels ihad. i mentioned the ce, and told him the jewels and money wereburied there; but that they might easily be recovered if i myself wentback for them. all this i told him, in dread lest my beauty and nothis own covetousness should influence him. while he was engaged inconversation with me, they brought him word that inpany with mewas one of the handsomest and most graceful youths that could beimagined. i knew at once that they were speaking of don gaspargregorio, whoseeliness surpasses the most highly vaunted beauty. iwas troubled when i thought of the danger he was in, for among thosebarbarous turks a fair youth is more esteemed than a woman, be Éäever so beautiful. the king immediately ordered him to be broughtbefore him that he might see him, and asked me if what they said aboutthe youth was true. i then, almost as if inspired by heaven, toldhim it was, but that i would have him to know it was not a man, buta woman like myself, and i entreated him to allow me to go and dresÉär in the attire proper to her, so that her beauty might be seen toperfection, and that Éä might present herself before him with lessembarrassment. he bade me go by all means, and said that the nextday we should discuss the n to be adopted for my return to spain tocarry away the hidden treasure. i saw don gaspar, i told him thedanger he was in if he let it be seen he was a man, i dressed him as amoorish woman, and that same afternoon i brought him before theking, who was ²årmed when he saw him, and resolved to keep the damsnd make a present of her to the grand signor; and to avoid the riskÉä might run among the women of his seraglio, and distrustful ofhimself, hemanded her to be ced in the house of some moorisdies of rank who would protect and attend to her; and thither he wastaken at once. what we both suffered £¨for i cannot deny that i lovehim£© may be left to the imagination of those who are separated if theylove one an. other dearly. the king then arranged that i should returnto spain in this brigantine, and that two turks, those who killed yoursoldiers, should apany me. there also came with me this spanishrenegade"- and here Éä pointed to him who had first spoken- "whom iknow to be secretly a christian, and to be more desirous of being leftin spain than of returning to barbary. the rest of the crew of thebrigantine are moors and turks, who merely serve as rowers. the twoturks, greedy and insolent, instead of obeying the orders we had tnd me and this renegade in christian dress £¨with which we cameprovided£© on the first spanish ground we came to, chose to run alongthe coast and make some prize if they could, fearing that if theyput us ashore first, we might, in case of some ident befallingus, make it known that the brigantine was at sea, and thus, if therehappened to be any galleys on the coast, they might be taken. wesighted this shorest night, and knowing nothing of these galleys,we were discovered, and the result was what you have seen. to sumup, there is don gregorio in womans dress, among women, in imminentdanger of his life; and here am i, with hands bound, in expectation,or rather in dread, of losing my life, of which i am already weary.here, sirs, ends my sad story, as true as it is unhappy; all i askof you is to allow me to die like a christian, for, as i havealready said, i am not to be ²årged with the offence of which thoseof my nation are guilty;" and Éä stood silent, her eyes filled withmoving tears, apanied by plenty from the bystanders. theviceroy, touched withpassion, went up to her without speakingand untied the cord that bound the hands of the moorish girl. but all the while the morisco christian was telling her strangestory, an elderly pilgrim, who hade on board of the galley atthe same time as the viceroy, kept his eyes fixed upon her; and theinstant Éä ceased speaking he threw himself at her feet, andembracing them said in a voice broken by sobs and sighs, "o ana felix,my unhappy daughter, i am thy father ricote,e back to look forthee, unable to live without thee, my soul that thou art!" at these words of his, sancho opened his eyes and raised his head,which he had been holding down, brooding over his unlucky excursion;and looking at the pilgrim he recognised in him that same ricote hemet the day he quitted his government, and felt satisfied that thiswas his daughter. Éä being now unbound embraced her father,mingling her tears with his, while he addressing the general and theviceroy said, "this, sirs, is my daughter, more unhappy in heradventures than in her name. Éä is ana felix, surnamed ricote,celebrated as much for her own beauty as for my wealth. i quitted mynativend in search of some Éälter or refuge for us abroad, andhaving found one in germany i returned in this pilgrims dress, in thpany of some other german pilgrims, to seek my daughter and take uparge quantity of treasure i had left buried. my daughter i didnot find, the treasure i found and have with me; and now, in thisstrange roundabout way you have seen, i find the treasure that morethan all makes me rich, my beloved daughter. if our innocence andher tears and mine can with strict justice open the door toclemency, extend it to us, for we never had any intention ofinjuring you, nor do we sympathise with the aims of our people, whohave been justly baniÉäd." "i know ricote well," said sancho at this, "and i know too that whathe says about ana felix being his daughter is true; but as to thoseother particrs about going anding, and having good or badintentions, i say nothing." while all present stood amazed at this strange urrence thegeneral said, "at any rate your tears will not allow me to keep myoath; live, fair ana felix, all the years that heaven has allottedyou; but these rash insolent fellows must pay the penalty of the crimethey havemitted;" and with that he gave orders to have the twoturks who had killed his two soldiers hanged at once at theyard-arm. the viceroy, however, begged him earnestly not to hang them,as their behaviour savoured rather of madness than of bravado. thegeneral yielded to the viceroys request, for revenge is not easilytaken in cold blood. they then tried to devise some scheme forrescuing don gaspar gregorio from the danger in which he had beenleft. ricote offered for that object more than two thousand ducatsthat he had in pearls and gems; they proposed several ns, butnone so good as that suggested by the renegade already mentioned,who offered to return to algiers in a small vessel of about six banks,manned by christian rowers, as he knew where, how, and when he couldand shouldnd, nor was he ignorant of the house in which dongaspar was staying. the general and the viceroy had some hesitationabout cing confidence in the renegade and entrusting him with thechristians who were to row, but ana felix said Éä could answer forhim, and her father offered to go and pay the ransom of the christiansif by any ²ånce they should not be forting. this, then, beingagreed upon, the viceroynded, and don antonio moreno took thefair morisco and her father home with him, the viceroy ²årging him togive them the best reception and wee in his power, while on hisown part he offered all that house contained for theirentertainment; so great was the good-will and kindliness the beauty ofana felix had infused into his heart.
µÚ198Ò³ ²åpter lxiv treating of the adventure which gave don quixote more unhappinessthan all that had hitherto befallen him the wife of don antonio moreno, so the history says, was extremelyhappy to see ana felix in her house. Éä weed her with greatkindness, ²årmed as well by her beauty as by her intelligence; for inboth respects the fair morisco was richly endowed, and all thepeople of the city flocked to see her as though they had been summonedby the ringing of the bells. don quixote told don antonio that the n adopted for releasing dongregorio was not a good one, for its risks were greater than itsadvantages, and that it would be better tond himself with hisarms and horse in barbary; for he would carry him off in spite ofthe whole moorish host, as don gaiferos carried off his wifemelisendra. "remember, your worship," observed sancho on hearing him say so,"senor don gaiferos carried off his wife from the maind, and tookher to france bynd; but in this case, if by ²ånce we carry off dongregorio, we have no way of bringing him to spain, for theres the seabetween." "theres a remedy for everything except death," said don quixote;"if they bring the vessel close to the shore we shall be able to geton board though all the world strive to prevent us." "your worship hits it off mighty well and mighty easy," said sancho;"but its a long step from saying to doing; and i hold to therenegade, for he seems to me an honest good-hearted fellow." don antonio then said that if the renegade did not prove sessful,the expedient of the great don quixotes expedition to barbaryshould be adopted. two days afterwards the renegade put to sea in alight vessel of six oars a-side manned by a stout crew, and two dayter the galleys made sail eastward, the general having begged theviceroy to let him know all about the release of don gregorio andabout ana felix, and the viceroy promised to do as he requested. one morning as don quixote went out for a stroll along the beach,arrayed in full armour £¨for, as he often said, that was "his onlygear, his only rest the fray," and he never was without it for amoment£©£¬ he sawing towards him a knight, also in full armour, witha shining moon painted on his shield, who, on approaching sufficientlynear to be heard, said in a loud voice, addressing himself to donquixote, "illustrious knight, and never sufficiently extolled donquixote of man²å, i am the knight of the white moon, whoseunheard-of achievements will perhaps have recalled him to thymemory. ie to do battle with thee and prove the might of thyarm, to the end that i make thee acknowledge and confess that mydy,let her be who Éä may, is iparably fairer than thy dulcinea deltoboso. if thou dost acknowledge this fairly and openly, thou shaltescape death and save me the trouble of inflicting it upon thee; ifthou fightest and i vanquish thee, i demand no other satisfaction thanthat,ying aside arms and abstaining from going in quest ofadventures, thou withdraw and betake thyself to thine own vigefor the space of a year, and live there without putting hand to sword,in peace and quiet and beneficial repose, the same being needful forthe increase of thy substance and the salvation of thy soul; and ifthou dost vanquish me, my head shall be at thy disposal, my arms andhorse thy spoils, and the renown of my deeds transferred and addedto thine. consider which will be thy best course, and give me thyanswer speedily, for this day is all the time i have for thedespatch of this business." don quixote was amazed and astoniÉäd, as well at the knight ofthe white moons arrogance, as at his reason for delivering thedefiance, and with calm dignity he answered him, "knight of thewhite moon, of whose achievements i have never heard until now, i willventure to swear you have never seen the illustrious dulcinea; for hadyou seen her i know you would have taken care not to ventureyourself upon this issue, because the sight would have removed alldoubt from your mind that there ever has been or can be a beauty to bpared with hers; and so, not saying you lie, but merely that youare not correct in what you state, i ept your ²ållenge, with theconditions you have proposed, and at once, that the day you have fixedmay not expire; and from your conditions i except only that of therenown of your achievements being transferred to me, for i know not ofwhat sort they are nor what they may amount to; i am satisfied with myown, such as they be. take, therefore, the side of the field youchoose, and i will do the same; and to whom god shall give it maysaint peter add his blessing." the knight of the white moon had been seen from the city, and it wastold the viceroy how he was in conversation with don quixote. theviceroy, fancying it must be some fresh adventure got up by donantonio moreno or some other gentleman of the city, hurried out atonce to the beach apanied by don antonio and several othergentlemen, just as don quixote was wheeling rocinante round in orderto take up the necessary distance. the viceroy upon this, seeingthat the pair of them were evidently preparing toe to the²årge, put himself between them, asking them what it was that ledthem to engage inbat all of a sudden in this way. the knight ofthe white moon replied that it was a question of precedence of beauty;and briefly told him what he had said to don quixote, and how theconditions of the defiance agreed upon on both sides had beenepted. the viceroy went over to don antonio, and asked in a lowvoice did he know who the knight of the white moon was, or was it somejoke they were ying on don quixote. don antonio replied that heneither knew who he was nor whether the defiance was in joke or inearnest. this answer left the viceroy in a state of perplexity, notknowing whether he ought to let thebat go on or not; but unable topersuade himself that it was anything but a joke he fell back, saying,"if there be no other way out of it, gant knights, except toconfess or die, and don quixote is inflexible, and your worship of thewhite moon still more so, in gods hand be it, and fall on." he of the white moon thanked the viceroy in courteous andwell-chosen words for the permission he gave them, and so did donquixote, who then,mending himself with all his heart to heaven andto his dulcinea, as was his custom on the eve of anybat thatawaited him, proceeded to take a little more distance, as he saw hisantagonist was doing the same; then, without st of trumpet or otherwarlike instrument to give them the signal to ²årge, both at the sameinstant wheeled their horses; and he of the white moon, being theswifter, met don quixote after having traversed two-thirds of thecourse, and there encountered him with such violence that, withouttouching him with hisnce £¨for he held it high, to all appearancepurposely£©£¬ he hurled don quixote and rocinante to the earth, aperilous fall. he sprang upon him at once, and cing thenceover his visor said to him, "you are vanquiÉäd, sir knight, naydead unless you admit the conditions of our defiance." don quixote, bruised and stupefied, without raising his visor saidin a weak feeble voice as if he were speaking out of a tomb, "dulcineadel toboso is the fairest woman in the world, and i the mostunfortunate knight on earth; it is not fitting that this truthshould suffer by my feebleness; drive yournce home, sir knight, andtake my life, since you have taken away my honour." "that will i not, in sooth," said he of the white moon; "live thefame of thedy dulcineas beauty undimmed as ever; all i requireis that the great don quixote retire to his own home for a year, orfor so long a time as shall by me be enjoined upon him, as we agreedbefore engaging in thisbat." the viceroy, don antonio, and several others who were presentheard all this, and heard too how don quixote replied that so longas nothing in prejudice of dulcinea was demanded of him, he wouldobserve all the rest like a true and loyal knight. the engagementgiven, he of the white moon wheeled about, and making obeisance to theviceroy with a movement of the head, rode away into the city at a halfgallop. the viceroy bade don antonio hasten after him, and by somemeans or other find out who he was. they raised don quixote up anduncovered his face, and found him pale and bathed with sweat.rocinante from the mere hard measure he had receivedy unable tostir for the present. sancho, wholly dejected and woebegone, knewnot what to say or do. he fancied that all was a dream, that the wholebusiness was a piece of en²åntment. here was his master defeated, andbound not to take up arms for a year. he saw the light of the glory ofhis achievements obscured; the hopes of the promisestely made himswept away like smoke before the wind; rocinante, he feared, wascrippled for life, and his masters bones out of joint; for if he wereonly shaken out of his madness it would be no small luck. in the endthey carried him into the city in a hand-²åir which the viceroysent for, and thither the viceroy himself returned, cager to ascertainwho this knight of the white moon was who had left don quixote in su²å sad plight. ²åpter lxv wherein is made known who the knight of the white moon was; likewisedon gregorios release, and other events don antonio moreno followed the knight of the white moon, and anumber of boys followed him too, nay pursued him, until they had himfairly housed in a hostel in the heart of the city. don antonio, eagerto make his acquaintance, entered also; a squire came out to meethim and remove his armour, and he shut himself into a lower room,still attended by don antonio, whose bread would not bake until he hadfound out who he was. he of the white moon, seeing then that thegentleman would not leave him, said, "i know very well, senor, whatyou havee for; it is to find out who i am; and as there is noreason why i should conceal it from you, while my servant here istaking off my armour i will tell you the true state of the case,without leaving out anything. you must know, senor, that i am calledthe bachelor samson carrasco. i am of the same vige as donquixote of man²å, whose craze and folly make all of us who knowhim feel pity for him, and i am one of those who have felt it most;and persuaded that his ²ånce of recoveryy in quiet and keepingat home and in his own house, i hit upon a device for keeping himthere. three months ago, therefore, i went out to meet him as aknight-errant, under the assumed name of the knight of the mirrors,intending to engage him inbat and ovee him without hurtinghim, making it the condition of ourbat that the vanquiÉädshould be at the disposal of the victor. what i meant to demand of him£¨for i regarded him as vanquiÉäd already£© was that he should returnto his own vige, and not leave it for a whole year, by which timehe might he cured. but fate ordered it otherwise, for he vanquiÉäd meand unhorsed me, and so my n failed. he went his way, and i cameback conquered, covered with shame, and sorely bruised by my fall,which was a particrly dangerous one. but this did not quench mydesire to meet him again and ovee him, as you have seen to-day.and as he is so scrupulous in his observance of thews ofknight-errantry, he will, no doubt, in order to keep his word, obeythe injunction i haveid upon him. this, senor, is how the matterstands, and i have nothing more to tell you. i implore of you not tobetray me, or tell don quixote who i am; so that my honestendeavours may be sessful, and that a man of excellent wits- werehe only rid of the fooleries of chivalry- may get them back again."
µÚ199Ò³ "o senor," said don antonio, "may god forgive you the wrong you havedone the whole world in trying to bring the most amusing madman init back to his senses. do you not see, senor, that the gain by donquixotes sanity can never equal the enjoyment his crazes give? but mybelief is that all the senor bachelors pains will be of no avail tobring a man so hopelessly cracked to his senses again; and if itwere not un²åritable, i would say may don quixote never be cured, forby his recovery we lose not only his own drolleries, but his squiresancho panzas too, any one of which is enough to turn mncholyitself into merriment. however, ill hold my peace and say nothingto him, and well see whether i am right in my suspicion that senorcarrascos efforts will be fruitless." the bachelor replied that at all events the affair promised well,and he hoped for a happy result from it; and putting his services atdon antoniosmands he took his leave of him; and having had hisarmour packed at once upon a mule, he rode away from the city the sameday on the horse he rode to battle, and returned to his own countrywithout meeting any adventure calling for record in this veracioushistory. don antonio reported to the viceroy what carrasco told him, andthe viceroy was not very well pleased to hear it, for with donquixotes retirement there was an end to the amusement of all who knewanything of his mad doings. six days did don quixote keep his bed, dejected, mncholy, moodyand out of sorts, brooding over the unhappy event of his defeat.sancho strove tofort him, and among other things he said to him,"hold up your head, senor, and be of good cheer if you can, and givethanks to heaven that if you have had a tumble to the ground youhave note off with a broken rib; and, as you know that where theygive they take, and that there are not always fletches where thereare pegs, a fig for the doctor, for theres no need of him to curethis ailment. let us go home, and give over going about in search ofadventures in strangends and ces; rightly looked at, it is ithat am the greater loser, though it is your worship that has hadthe worse usage. with the government i gave up all wish to be agovernor again, but i did not give up all longing to be a count; andthat will nevere to pass if your worship gives up bing aking by renouncing the calling of chivalry; and so my hopes aregoing to turn into smoke." "peace, sancho," said don quixote; "thou seest my suspension andretirement is not to exceed a year; i shall soon return to my honouredcalling, and i shall not be at a loss for a kingdom to win and acounty to bestow on thee." "may god hear it and sin be deaf," said sancho; "i have always heardsay that a good hope is better than a bad holding." as they were talking don antonio came in looking extremely pleasedand eximing, "reward me for my good news, senor don quixote! dongregorio and the renegade who went for him havee ashore- ashore doi say? they are by this time in the viceroys house, and will behere immediately." don quixote cheered up a little and said, "of a truth i am almostready to say i should have been d had it turned out just theother way, for it would have obliged me to cross over to barbary,where by the might of my arm i should have restored to liberty, notonly don gregorio, but all the christian captives there are inbarbary. but what am i saying, miserable being that i am? am i nothe that has been conquered? am i not he that has been overthrown? am inot he who must not take up arms for a year? then what am i makingprofessions for; what am i bragging about; when it is fitter for me tohandle the distaff than the sword?" "no more of that, senor," said sancho; "let the hen live, eventhough it be with her pip; today for thee and to-morrow for me; inthese affairs of encounters and whacks one must not mind them, forhe that falls to-day may get up to-morrow; unless indeed he chooses tolie in bed, i mean gives way to weakness and does not pluck up freshspirit for fresh battles; let your worship get up now to receive dongregorio; for the household seems to be in a bustle, and no doubt hehase by this time;" and so it proved, for as soon as dongregorio and the renegade had given the viceroy an ount of thevoyage out and home, don gregorio, eager to see ana felix, came withthe renegade to don antonios house. when they carried him away fromalgiers he was in womans dress; on board the vessel, however, heex²ånged it for that of a captive who escaped with him; but inwhatever dress he might be he looked like one to be loved and servedand esteemed, for he was surpassingly well-favoured, and to judge byappearances some seventeen or eighteen years of age. ricote and hisdaughter came out to wee him, the father with tears, thedaughter with bashfulness. they did not embrace each other, forwhere there is deep love there will never be overmuch boldness. seenside by side, theeliness of don gregorio and the beauty of anafelix were the admiration of all who were present. it was silence thatspoke for the lovers at that moment, and their eyes were the tonguesthat dered their pure and happy feelings. the renegade exinedthe measures and means he had adopted to rescue don gregorio, anddon gregorio at no great length, but in a few words, in which heshowed that his intelligence was in advance of his years, describedthe peril and embarrassment he found himself in among the women withwhom he had sojourned. to conclude, ricote liberally rpensed andrewarded as well the renegade as the men who had rowed; and therenegade effected his readmission into the body of the church andwas reconciled with it, and from a rotten limb became by penance andrepentance a clean and sound one. two dayster the viceroy discussed with don antonio the steps theyshould take to enable ana felix and her father to stay in spain, forit seemed to them there could be no objection to a daughter who was sogood a christian and a father to all appearance so well disposedremaining there. don antonio offered to arrange the matter at thecapital, whither he waspelled to go on some other business,hinting that many a difficult affair was settled there with the helpof favour and bribes. "nay," said ricote, who was present during the conversation, "itwill not do to rely upon favour or bribes, because with the greatdon bernardino de vsco, conde de szar, to whom his majesty hasentrusted our expulsion, neither entreaties nor promises, bribes norappeals topassion, are of any use; for though it is true hemingles mercy with justice, still, seeing that the whole body of ournation is tainted and corrupt, he applies to it the cautery that burnsrather than the salve that soothes; and thus, by prudence, sagacity,care and the fear he inspires, he has borne on his mighty shouldersthe weight of this great policy and carried it into effect, all ourschemes and plots, importunities and wiles, being ineffectual to blindhis argus eyes, ever on the watch lest one of us should remainbehind in concealment, and like a hidden roote in course of timeto sprout and bear poisonous fruit in spain, now cleansed, andrelieved of the fear in which our vast numbers kept it. heroic resolveof the great philip the third, and unparalleled wisdom to haveentrusted it to the said don bernardino de vsco!" "at any rate," said don antonio, "when i am there i will make allpossible efforts, and let heaven do as pleases it best; don gregoriowille with me to relieve the anxiety which his parents must besuffering on ount of his absence; ana felix will remain in my housewith my wife, or in a monastery; and i know the viceroy will be dthat the worthy ricote should stay with him until we see what termsi can make." the viceroy agreed to all that was proposed; but don gregorio onlearning what had passed dered he could not and would not on anyount leave ana felix; however, as it was his purpose to go andsee his parents and devise some way of returning for her, he fell inwith the proposed arrangement. ana felix remained with don antonioswife, and ricote in the viceroys house. the day for don antonios departure came; and two dayster thatfor don quixotes and sanchos, for don quixotes fall did notsuffer him to take the road sooner. there were tears and sighs,swoonings and sobs, at the parting between don gregorio and ana felix.ricote offered don gregorio a thousand crowns if he would have them,but he would not take any save five which don antonio lent him andhe promised to repay at the capital. so the two of them took theirdeparture, and don quixote and sancho afterwards, as has beenalready said, don quixote without his armour and in travelling gear,and sancho on foot, dapple being loaded with the armour.²åpter lxvi which treats of what he who reads will see, or what he who has itread to him will hear as he left barcelona, don quixote turned gaze upon the spot where hehad fallen. "here troy was," said he; "here my ill-luck, not mycowardice, robbed me of all the glory i had won; here fortune mademe the victim of her caprices; here the lustre of my achievementswas dimmed; here, in a word, fell my happiness never to rise again." "senor," said sancho on hearing this, "it is the part of bravehearts to be patient in adversity just as much as to be d inprosperity; i judge by myself, for, if when i was a governor i wasd, now that i am a squire and on foot i am not sad; and i haveheard say that Éä whommonly they call fortune is a drunkenwhimsical jade, and, what is more, blind, and therefore neither seeswhat Éä does, nor knows whom Éä casts down or whom Éä sets up."
µÚ200Ò³ "thou art a great philosopher, sancho," said don quixote; "thouspeakest very sensibly; i know not who taught thee. but i can tellthee there is no such thing as fortune in the world, nor does anythingwhich takes ce there, be it good or bad,e about by ²ånce,but by the special preordination of heaven; and hence themonsaying that each of us is the maker of his own fortune. i havebeen that of mine; but not with the proper amount of prudence, andmy self-confidence has therefore made me pay dearly; for i ought tohave reflected that rocinantes feeble strength could not resist themighty bulk of the knight of the white moons horse. in a word, iventured it, i did my best, i was overthrown, but though i lost myhonour i did not lose nor can i lose the virtue of keeping my word.when i was a knight-errant, daring and valiant, i supported myachievements by hand and deed, and now that i am a humble squire iwill support my words by keeping the promise i have given. forwardthen, sancho my friend, let us go to keep the year of the novitiate inour own country, and in that seclusion we shall pick up fresh strengthto return to the by me never-forgotten calling of arms." "senor," returned sancho, "travelling on foot is not such a pleasantthing that it makes me feel disposed or tempted to make longmarches. let us leave this armour hung up on some tree, instead ofsome one that has been hanged; and then with me on dapples back andmy feet off the ground we will arrange the stages as your worshippleases to measure them out; but to suppose that i am going totravel on foot, and make long ones, is to suppose nonsense." "thou sayest well, sancho," said don quixote; "let my armour be hungup for a trophy, and under it or round it we will carve on the treeswhat was inscribed on the trophy of rnds armour- these let none move who dareth not his might with rnd prove." "thats the very thing," said sancho; "and if it was not that weshould feel the want of rocinante on the road, it would be as wellto leave him hung up too." "and yet, i had rather not have either him or the armour hung up,"said don quixote, "that it may not be said, for good service a badreturn." "your worship is right," said sancho; "for, as sensible people hold,the fault of the ass must not beid on the pack-saddle; and, as inthis affair the fault is your worships, punish yourself and dont letyour anger break out against the already battered and bloody armour,or the meekness of rocinante, or the tenderness of my feet, tryingto make them travel more than is reasonable." in converse of this sort the whole of that day went by, as did thefour seeding ones, without anything urring to interrupt theirjourney, but on the fifth as they entered a vige they found a greatnumber of people at the door of an inn enjoying themselves, as itwas a holiday. upon don quixotes approach a peasant called out,"one of these two gentlemen whoe here, and who dont know theparties, will tell us what we ought to do about our wager." "that i will, certainly," said don quixote, "and ording to therights of the case, if i can manage to understand it." "well, here it is, worthy sir," said the peasant; "a man of thisvige who is so fat that he weighs twenty stone ²ållengedanother, a neighbour of his, who does not weigh more than nine, to runa race. the agreement was that they were to run a distance of ahundred paces with equal weights; and when the ²ållenger was askedhow the weights were to be equalised he said that the other, as heweighed nine stone, should put eleven in iron on his back, and that inthis way the twenty stone of the thin man would equal the twenty stoneof the fat one." "not at all," eximed sancho at once, before don quixote couldanswer; "its for me, that only a few days ago left off being agovernor and a judge, as all the world knows, to settle these doubtfulquestions and give an opinion in disputes of all sorts." "answer in gods name, sancho my friend," said don quixote, "for iam not fit to give crumbs to a cat, my wits are so confused andupset." with this permission sancho said to the peasants who stood clusteredround him, waiting with open mouths for the decision toe from his,"brothers, what the fat man requires is not in reason, nor has it ashadow of justice in it; because, if it be true, as they say, that the²ållenged may choose the weapons, the other has no right to choosesuch as will prevent and keep him from winning. my decision,therefore, is that the fat ²ållenger prune, peel, thin, trim andcorrect himself, and take eleven stone of his flesh off his body, hereor there, as he pleases, and as suits him best; and being in thisway reduced to nine stone weight, he will make himself equal andeven with nine stone of his opponent, and they will be able to runon equal terms." "by all thats good," said one of the peasants as he heardsanchos decision, "but the gentleman has spoken like a saint, andgiven judgment like a canon! but ill be bound the fat man wontpart with an ounce of his flesh, not to say eleven stone." "the best n will be for them not to run," said another, "sothat neither the thin man break down under the weight, nor the fat onestrip himself of his flesh; let half the wager be spent in wine, andlets take these gentlemen to the tavern where theres the best, andover me be the cloak when it rains." "i thank you, sirs," said don quixote; "but i cannot stop for aninstant, for sad thoughts and unhappy circumstances force me to seemdiscourteous and to travel apace;" and spurring rocinante he puÉädon, leaving them wondering at what they had seen and heard, at his ownstrange figure and at the shrewdness of his servant, for such theytook sancho to be; and another of them observed, "if the servant is soclever, what must the master be? ill bet, if they are going tosmanca to study, theylle to be alcaldes of the court in atrice; for its a mere joke- only to read and read, and haveinterest and good luck; and before a man knows where he is he findshimself with a staff in his hand or a mitre on his head." that night master and man passed out in the fields in the openair, and the next day as they were pursuing their journey they saing towards them a man on foot with alforjas at the neck and ajavelin or spiked staff in his hand, the very cut of a foot courier;who, as soon as he came close to don quixote, increased his pace andhalf running came up to him, and embracing his right thigh, for hecould reach no higher, eximed with evident pleasure, "o senor donquixote of man²å, what happiness it will be to the heart of mylord the duke when he knows your worship ising back to his castle,for he is still there with mydy the duchess!" "i do not recognise you, friend," said don quixote, "nor do i knowwho you are, unless you tell me." "i am tosilos, my lord the dukescquey, senor don quixote,"replied the courier; "he who refused to fight your worship aboutmarrying the daughter of dona rodriguez." "god bless me!" eximed don quixote; "is it possible that youare the one whom mine enemies the en²ånters ²ånged into thcquey you speak of in order to rob me of the honour of that battle?" "nonsense, good sir!" said the messenger; "there was noen²åntment or transformation at all; i entered the lists just as mquey tosilos as i came out of themcquey tosilos. i thought tomarry without fighting, for the girl had taken my fancy; but my schemehad a very different result, for as soon as your worship had leftthe castle my lord the duke had a hundred strokes of the stick givenme for having acted contrary to the orders he gave me beforeengaging in thebat; and the end of the whole affair is that thegirl has be a nun, and dona rodriguez has gone back to castile,and i am now on my way to barcelona with a packet of letters for theviceroy which my master is sending him. if your worship would like adrop, sound though warm, i have a gourd here full of the best, andsome scraps of tronchon cheese that will serve as a provocative andwakener of your thirst if so be it is asleep." "i take the offer," said sancho; "no morepliments about it; pourout, good tosilos, in spite of all the en²ånters in the indies." "thou art indeed the greatest glutton in the world, sancho," saiddon quixote, "and the greatest booby on earth, not to be able to seethat this courier is en²ånted and this tosilos a sham one; stopwith him and take thy fill; i will go on slowly and wait for thee te up with me." thecqueyughed, unÉäathed his gourd, unwalletted his scraps,and taking out a small loaf of bread he and sancho seated themselveson the green grass, and in peace and good fellowship finiÉäd offthe contents of the alforjas down to the bottom, so resolutely thatthey licked the wrapper of the letters, merely because it smelt ofcheese. said tosilos to sancho, "beyond a doubt, sancho my friend, thismaster of thine ought to be a madman." "ought!" said sancho; "he owes no man anything; he pays foreverything, particrly when the coin is madness. i see it inenough, and i tell him so in enough; but whats the use? especiallynow that it is all over with him, for here he is beaten by theknight of the white moon."
µÚ201Ò³ tosilos begged him to exin what had happened him, but sanchoreplied that it would not be good manners to leave his masterwaiting for him; and that some other day if they met there would betime enough for that; and then getting up, after shaking his doubletand brushing the crumbs out of his beard, he drove dapple on beforehim, and bidding adieu to tosilos left him and rejoined his master,who was waiting for him under the shade of a tree.²åpter lxvii of the resolution don quixote formed to turn Éäpherd and take toa life in the fields while the year for which he had given his wordwas running its course; with other events truly delectable and happy if a multitude of reflections used to harass don quixote before hehad been overthrown, a great many more harassed him since his fall. hewas under the shade of a tree, as has been said, and there, like flieson honey, thoughts came crowding upon him and stinging him. some ofthem turned upon the disen²åntment of dulcinea, others upon thelife he was about to lead in his enforced retirement. sancho came upand spoke in high praise of the generous disposition of thecqueytosilos. "is it possible, sancho," said don quixote, "that thou dost stillthink that he yonder is a realcquey? apparently it has escapedthy memory that thou hast seen dulcinea turned and transformed intoa peasant wench, and the knight of the mirrors into the bachelorcarrasco; all the work of the en²ånters that persecute me. but tellme now, didst thou ask this tosilos, as thou callest him, what hasbe of altisidora, did Éä weep over my absence, or has Éä alreadyconsigned to oblivion the love thoughts that used to afflict herwhen i was present?" "the thoughts that i had," said sancho, "were not such as to leavetime for asking fools questions. body o me, senor! is your worshipin a condition now to inquire into other peoples thoughts, aboveall love thoughts?" "look ye, sancho," said don quixote, "there is a great differencebetween what is done out of love and what is done out of gratitude.a knight may very possibly he proof against love; but it isimpossible, strictly speaking, for him to be ungrateful. altisidora,to all appearance, loved me truly; Éä gave me the three kerchiefsthou knowest of; Éä wept at my departure, Éä cursed me, Éä abusedme, casting shame to the winds Éä bewailed herself in public; allsigns that Éä adored me; for the wrath of lovers always ends incurses. i had no hopes to give her, nor treasures to offer her, formine are given to dulcinea, and the treasures of knights-errant arelike those of the fairies, illusory and deceptive; all i can give heris the ce in my memory i keep for her, without prejudice,however, to that which i hold devoted to dulcinea, whom thou artwronging by thy remissness in whipping thyself and scourging thatflesh- would that i saw it eaten by wolves- which would rather keepitself for the worms than for the relief of that poordy." "senor," replied sancho, "if the truth is to be told, i cannotpersuade myself that the whipping of my backside has anything to dowith the disen²åntment of the en²ånted; it is like saying, ifyour head aches rub ointment on your knees; at any rate ill makebold to swear that in all the histories dealing with knight-errantrythat your worship has read you have nevere across anybodydisen²ånted by whipping; but whether or no ill whip myself when ihave a fancy for it, and the opportunity serves for scourging myselfortably." "god grant it," said don quixote; "and heaven give thee grace totake it to heart and own the obligation thou art under to help mdy, who is thine also, inasmuch as thou art mine." as they pursued their journey talking in this way they came to thevery same spot where they had been trampled on by the bulls. donquixote recognised it, and said he to sancho, "this is the meadowwhere we came upon those gay Éäpherdesses and gant Éäpherds whowere trying to revive and imitate the pastoral arcadia there, anidea as novel as it was happy, in emtion whereof, if so he thoudost approve of it, sancho, i would have ourselves turn Éäpherds,at any rate for the time i have to live in retirement. i will buy someewes and everything else requisite for the pastoral calling; and, iunder the name of the Éäpherd quixotize and thou as the Éäpherdpanzino, we will roam the woods and groves and meadows singing songÉäre,menting in elegies there, drinking of the crystal waters ofthe springs or limpid brooks or flowing rivers. the oaks will yield ustheir sweet fruit with bountiful hand, the trunks of the hard corktrees a seat, the willows shade, the roses perfume, the widespreadmeadows carpets tinted with a thousand dyes; the clear pure air willgive us breath, the moon and stars lighten the darkness of the nightfor us, song shall be our delight,menting our joy, apollo willsupply us with verses, and love with conceits whereby we shall makeourselves famed for ever, not only in this but in ages toe." "egad," said sancho, "but that sort of life squares, nay corners,with my notions; and what is more the bachelor samson carrasco andmaster nichs the barber wont have well seen it before theyll wantto follow it and turn Éäpherds along with us; and god grant it maynote into the curates head to join the Éäepfold too, hes sojovial and fond of enjoying himself." "thou art in the right of it, sancho," said don quixote; "and thebachelor samson carrasco, if he enters the pastoral fraternity, asno doubt he will, may call himself the Éäpherd samsonino, orperhaps the Éäpherd carrascon; nichs the barber may call himselfniculoso, as old boscan formerly was called nemoroso; as for thecurate i dont know what name we can fit to him unless it be somethingderived from his title, and we call him the Éäpherd curiambro. forthe Éäpherdesses whose lovers we shall be, we can pick names as wewould pears; and as mydys name does just as well for aÉäpherdesss as for a princesss, i need not trouble myself to lookfor one that will suit her better; to thine, sancho, thou canst givewhat name thou wilt." "i dont mean to give her any but teresona," said sancho, "whichwill go well with her stoutness and with her own right name, as Éä iscalled teresa; and then when i sing her praises in my verses ill showhow ²åste my passion is, for im not going to look for betterbread than ever came from wheat in other mens houses. it wont dofor the curate to have a Éäpherdess, for the sake of good example;and if the bachelor chooses to have one, that is his look-out." "god bless me, sancho my friend!" said don quixote, "what a lifewe shall lead! what hautboys and zamora bagpipes we shall hear, whattabors, timbrels, and rebecks! and then if among all these differentsorts of music that of the albogues is heard, almost all thepastoral instruments will be there." "what are albogues?" asked sancho, "for i never in my life heardtell of them or saw them." "albogues," said don quixote, "are brass tes like candlesticksthat struck against one another on the hollow side make a noise which,if not very pleasing or harmonious, is not disagreeable and ordsvery well with the rude notes of the bagpipe and tabor. the wordalbogue is morisco, as are all those in our spanish tongue thatbegin with al; for example, almohaza, almorzar, alhombra, alguacil,alhucema, almacen, alcancia, and others of the same sort, of whichthere are not many more; ournguage has only three that aremorisco and end in i, which are borcegui, zaquizami, and maravedi.alheli and alfaqui are seen to be arabic, as well by the al at thebeginning as by the they end with. i mention this incidentally, the²ånce allusion to albogues having reminded me of it; and it will beof great assistance to us in the perfect practice of this calling thati am something of a poet, as thou knowest, and that besides thebachelor samson carrasco is an apliÉäd one. of the curate i saynothing; but i will wager he has some spice of the poet in him, and nodoubt master nichs too, for all barbers, or most of them, areguitar yers and stringers of verses. i will bewail my separation;thou shalt glorify thyself as a constant lover; the Éäpherd carrasconwill figure as a rejected one, and the curate curiambro as whatevermay please him best; and so all will go as gaily as heart could wish." to this sancho made answer, "i am so unlucky, senor, that im afraidthe day will nevere when ill see myself at such a calling. o whatneat spoons ill make when im a Éäpherd! what messes, creams,gands, pastoral odds and ends! and if they dont get me a namefor wisdom, theyll not fail to get me one for ingenuity. mydaughter sanchica will bring us our dinner to the pasture. but stay-Éäs good-looking, and Éäpherds there are with more mischief thansimplicity in them; i would not have here for wool and go backshorn; love-making andwless desires are just asmon in thefields as in the cities, and in Éäpherds shanties as in royalpces; do away with the cause, you do away with the sin; ifeyes dont see hearts dont break and better a clear escape thangood mens prayers." "a truce to thy proverbs, sancho," eximed don quixote; "any oneof those thou hast uttered would suffice to exin thy meaning;many a time have i rmended thee not to be sovish withproverbs and to exercise some moderation in delivering them; but itseems to me it is only preaching in the desert; my mother beatsme and i go on with my tricks."
µÚ202Ò³ "it seems to me," said sancho, "that your worship is like themonsaying, said the frying-pan to the kettle, get away, ckbreech.you chide me for uttering proverbs, and you string them in couplesyourself." "observe, sancho," replied don quixote, "i bring in proverbs tothe purpose, and when i quote them they fit like a ring to the finger;thou bringest them in by the head and shoulders, in such a way thatthou dost drag them in, rather than introduce them; if i am notmistaken, i have told thee already that proverbs are short maximsdrawn from the experience and observation of our wise men of old;but the proverb that is not to the purpose is a piece of nonsenseand not a maxim. but enough of this; as nightfall is drawing on let usretire some little distance from the high road to pass the night; whatis in store for us to-morrow god knoweth." they turned aside, and suppedte and poorly, very much againstsanchos will, who turned over in his mind the hardships attendantupon knight-errantry in woods and forests, even though at times plentypresented itself in castles and houses, as at don diego demirandas, at the wedding of camacho the rich, and at don antoniomorenos; he reflected, however, that it could not be always day,nor always night; and so that night he passed in sleeping, and hismaster in waking.²åpter lxviii of the bristly adventure that befell don quixote the night was somewhat dark, for though there was a moon in thesky it was not in a quarter where Éä could be seen; for sometimes thdy diana goes on a stroll to the antipodes, and leaves the mountainsall ck and the valleys in darkness. don quixote obeyed nature sofar as to sleep his first sleep, but did not give way to the second,very different from sancho, who never had any second, because with himsleepsted from night till morning, wherein he showed what a soundconstitution and few cares he had. don quixotes cares kept himrestless, so much so that he awoke sancho and said to him, "i amamazed, sancho, at the unconcern of thy temperament. i believe thouart made of marble or hard brass, incapable of any emotion orfeeling whatever. i lie awake while thou sleepest, i weep while thousingest, i am faint with fasting while thou art sluggish and torpidfrom pure repletion. it is the duty of good servants to share thesufferings and feel the sorrows of their masters, if it be only forthe sake of appearances. see the calmness of the night, the solitudeof the spot, inviting us to break our slumbers by a vigil of somesort. rise as thou livest, and retire a little distance, and with agood heart and cheerful courage give thyself three or four hundreÉäs on ount of dulcineas disen²åntment score; and this ientreat of thee, making it a request, for i have no desire toeto grips with thee a second time, as i know thou hast a heavy hand. assoon as thou hastid them on we will pass the rest of the night, isinging my separation, thou thy constancy, making a beginning atonce with the pastoral life we are to follow at our vige." "senor," replied sancho, "im no monk to get up out of the middle ofmy sleep and scourge myself, nor does it seem to me that one canpass from one extreme of the pain of whipping to the other of music.will your worship let me sleep, and not worry me about whippingmyself? or youll make me swear never to touch a hair of my doublet,not to say my flesh." "o hard heart!" said don quixote, "o pitiless squire! o breadill-bestowed and favours ill-acknowledged, both those i have done theeand those i mean to do thee! through me hast thou seen thyself agovernor, and through me thou seest thyself in immediate expectationof being a count, or obtaining some other equivalent title, for i-post tenebras spero lucem." "i dont know what that is," said sancho; "all i know is that solong as i am asleep i have neither fear nor hope, trouble nor glory;and good luck betide him that invented sleep, the cloak that coversover all a mans thoughts, the food that removes hunger, the drinkthat drives away thirst, the fire that warms the cold, the cold thattempers the heat, and, to wind up with, the universal coin wherewitheverything is bought, the weight and bnce that makes the Éäpherdequal with the king and the fool with the wise man. sleep, i haveheard say, has only one fault, that it is like death; for between asleeping man and a dead man there is very little difference." "never have i heard thee speak so elegantly as now, sancho," saiddon quixote; "and here i begin to see the truth of the proverb thoudost sometimes quote, not with whom thou art bred, but with whom thouart fed." "ha, by my life, master mine," said sancho, "its not i that amstringing proverbs now, for they drop in pairs from your worshipsmouth faster than from mine; only there is this difference betweenmine and yours, that yours are well-timed and mine are untimely; butanyhow, they are all proverbs." at this point they became aware of a harsh indistinct noise thatseemed to spread through all the valleys around. don quixote stoodup andid his hand upon his sword, and sancho ensconced himselfunder dapple and put the bundle of armour on one side of him and theasss pack-saddle on the other, in fear and trembling as great asdon quixotes perturbation. each instant the noise increased andcame nearer to the two terrified men, or at least to one, for as tothe other, his courage is known to all. the fact of the matter wasthat some men were taking above six hundred pigs to sell at a fair,and were on their way with them at that hour, and so great was thenoise they made and their grunting and blowing, that they deafened theears of don quixote and sancho panza, and they could not make out whatit was. the wide-spread grunting drove came on in a surging mass,and without showing any respect for don quixotes dignity or sanchos,passed right over the pair of them, demolishing sanchosentrenchments, and not only upsetting don quixote but sweepingrocinante off his feet into the bargain; and what with the tramplingand the grunting, and the pace at which the unclean beasts went,pack-saddle, armour, dapple and rocinante were left scattered on theground and sancho and don quixote at their wits end. sancho got up as well as he could and begged his master to givehim his sword, saying he wanted to kill half a dozen of those dirtyunmannerly pigs, for he had by this time found out that that waswhat they were. "let them be, my friend," said don quixote; "this insult is thepenalty of my sin; and it is the righteous ²åstisement of heaven thatjackals should devour a vanquiÉäd knight, and wasps sting him andpigs trample him under foot." "i suppose it is the ²åstisement of heaven, too," said sancho,"that flies should prick the squires of vanquiÉäd knights, and liceeat them, and hunger assail them. if we squires were the sons of theknights we serve, or their very near rtions, it would be nowonder if the penalty of their misdeeds overtook us, even to thefourth generation. but what have the panzas to do with the quixotes?well, well, lets lie down again and sleep out what little of thenight theres left, and god will send us dawn and we shall be allright." "sleep thou, sancho," returned don quixote, "for thou wast born tosleep as i was born to watch; and during the time it now wants of dawni will give a loose rein to my thoughts, and seek a vent for them in alittle madrigal which, unknown to thee, iposed in my headstnight." "i should think," said sancho, "that the thoughts that allow o make verses cannot be of great consequence; let your worship stringverses as much as you like and ill sleep as much as i can;" andforthwith, taking the space of ground he required, he muffledhimself up and fell into a sound sleep, undisturbed by bond, debt,or trouble of any sort. don quixote, propped up against the trunk of abeech or a cork tree- for cide hamete does not specify what kind oftree it was- sang in this strain to the apaniment of his ownsighs: when in my mind i muse, o love, upon thy cruelty, to death i flee, in hope therein the end of all to find. but drawing near that wee haven in my sea of woe, such joy i know, that life revives, and still i linger here. thus life doth y, and death again to life restoreth me; strange destiny, that deals with life and death as with a y! he apanied each verse with many sighs and not a few tears,just like one whose heart was pierced with grief at his defeat and hisseparation from dulcinea. and now daylight came, and the sun smote sancho on the eyes with hisbeams. he awoke, roused himself up, shook himself and stretched hizy limbs, and seeing the havoc the pigs had made with his storeÉä cursed the drove, and more besides. then the pair resumed theirjourney, and as evening closed in they sawing towards them someten men on horseback and four or five on foot. don quixotes heartbeat quick and sanchos quailed with fear, for the persons approachingthem carriednces and bucklers, and were in very warlike guise.don quixote turned to sancho and said, "if i could make use of myweapons, and my promise had not tied my hands, i would count this hostthates against us but cakes and fancy bread; but perhaps it mayprove something different from what we apprehend." the men onhorseback now came up, and raising theirnces surrounded don quixotein silence, and pointed them at his back and breast, menacing him withdeath. one of those on foot, putting his finger to his lips as asign to him to be silent, seized rocinantes bridle and drew him outof the road, and the others driving sancho and dapple before them, andall maintaining a strange silence, followed in the steps of the onewho led don quixote. thetter two or three times attempted to askwhere they were taking him to and what they wanted, but the instant hebegan to open his lips they threatened to close them with the pointsof theirnces; and sancho fared the same way, for the moment heseemed about to speak one of those on foot punched him with a goad,and dapple likewise, as if he too wanted to talk. night set in, theyquickened their pace, and the fears of the two prisoners grew greater,especially as they heard themselves assailed with- "get on, yetroglodytes;" "silence, ye barbarians;" "march, ye cannibals;" "nomurmuring, ye scythians;" "dont open your eyes, ye murderouspolyphemes, ye blood-thirsty lions," and suchlike names with whichtheir captors harassed the ears of the wretched master and man. sanchowent along saying to himself, "we, tortolites, barbers, animals! idont like those names at all; its in a bad wind our corn is beingwinnowed; misfortunees upon us all at once like sticks on adog, and god grant it may be no worse than them that this unluckyadventure has in store for us."
µÚ203Ò³ don quixote rodepletely dazed, unable with the aid of all hiswits to make out what could be the meaning of these abusive names theycalled them, and the only conclusion he could arrive at was that therewas no good to be hoped for and much evil to be feared. and now, aboutan hour after midnight, they reached a castle which don quixote saw atonce was the dukes, where they had been but a short time before. "godbless me!" said he, as he recognised the mansion, "what does thismean? it is all courtesy and politeness in this house; but with thevanquiÉäd good turns into evil, and evil into worse." they entered the chief court of the castle and found it prepared andfitted up in a style that added to their amazement and doubled theirfears, as will be seen in the following ²åpter.²åpter lxix of the strangest and most extraordinary adventure that befell donquixote in the whole course of this great history the horsemen dismounted, and, together with the men on foot, withouta moments dy taking up sancho and don quixote bodily, they carriedthem into the court, all round which near a hundred torches fixed insockets were burning, besides above five hundredmps in thecorridors, so that in spite of the night, which was somewhat dark, thewant of daylight could not be perceived. in the middle of the courtwas a catafalque, raised about two yards above the ground andcoveredpletely by an immense canopy of ck velvet, and on thesteps all round it white wax tapers burned in more than a hundredsilver candlesticks. upon the catafalque was seen the dead body of adamsel so lovely that by her beauty Éä made death itself lookbeautiful. Éäy with her head resting upon a cushion of brocade andcrowned with a gand of sweet-smelling flowers of divers sorts,her hands crossed upon her bosom, and between them a branch ofyellow palm of victory. on one side of the court was erected astage, where upon two ²åirs were seated two persons who from havingcrowns on their heads and sceptres in their hands appeared to be kingsof some sort, whether real or mock ones. by the side of this stage,which was reached by steps, were two other ²åirs on which the mencarrying the prisoners seated don quixote and sancho, all insilence, and by signs giving them to understand that they too wereto he silent; which, however, they would have been without anysigns, for their amazement at all they saw held them tongue-tied.and now two persons of distinction, who were at once recognised by donquixote as his hosts the duke and duchess, ascended the stage attendedby a numerous suite, and seated themselves on two gorgeous ²åirsclose to the two kings, as they seemed to be. who would not havebeen amazed at this? nor was this all, for don quixote had perceivedthat the dead body on the catafalque was that of the fairaltisidora. as the duke and duchess mounted the stage don quixoteand sancho rose and made them a profound obeisance, which theyreturned by bowing their heads slightly. at this moment an officialcrossed over, and approaching sancho threw over him a robe of ckbuckram painted all over with mes of fire, and taking off his capput upon his head a mitre such as those undergoing the sentence of theholy office wear; and whispered in his ear that he must not open hislips, or they would put a gag upon him, or take his life. sanchosurveyed himself from head to foot and saw himself all aze withmes; but as they did not burn him, he did not care two farthingsfor them. he took off the mitre and seeing painted with devils heput it on again, saying to himself, "well, so far those dont burnme nor do these carry me off." don quixote surveyed him too, andthough fear had got the better of his faculties, he could not helpsmiling to see the figure sancho presented. and now from underneaththe catafalque, so it seemed, there rose a low sweet sound offlutes, which,ing unbroken by human voice £¨for there silenceitself kept silence£©£¬ had a soft andnguishing effect. then,beside the pillow of what seemed to be the dead body, suddenlyappeared a fair youth in a roman habit, who, to the apaniment of aharp which he himself yed, sang in a sweet and clear voice thesetwo stanzas: while fair altisidora, who the sport of cold don quixotes cruelty hath been, returns to life, and in this magic court the dames in sablese to grace the scene, and while her matrons all in seemly sort mydy robes in baize and bombazine, her beauty and her sorrows will i sing with defter quill than touched the thracian string. but not in life alone, methinks, to me belongs the office;dy, when my tongue is cold in death, believe me, unto thee my voice shall raise its tributary song. my soul, from this strait prison-house set free, as oer the stygianke it floats along, thy praises singing still shall hold its way, and make the waters of oblivion stay. at this point one of the two that looked like kings eximed,"enough, enough, divine singer! it would be an endless task to putbefore us now the death and the ²årms of the peerless altisidora, notdead as the ignorant world imagines, but living in the voice of fameand in the penance which sancho panza, here present, has to undergo torestore her to the long-lost light. do thou, therefore, orhadamanthus, who sittest in judgment with me in the murky cavernsof dis, as thou knowest all that the inscrutable fates have decreedtouching the resuscitation of this damsel, announce and dere itat once, that the happiness we look forward to from her restoration beno longer deferred." no sooner had minos the fellow judge of rhadamanthus said this, thanrhadamanthus rising up said: "ho, officials of this house, high and low, great and small, makehaste hither one and all, and print on sanchos face four-and-twentysmacks, and give him twelve pinches and six pin thrusts in the backand arms; for upon this ceremony depends the restoration ofaltisidora." on hearing this sancho broke silence and cried out, "by all thatsgood, ill as soon let my face be smacked or handled as turn moor.body o me! what has handling my face got to do with theresurrection of this damsel? the old woman took kindly to theblits; they en²ånt dulcinea, and whip me in order to disen²ånther; altisidora dies of ailments god was pleased to send her, and tobring her to life again they must give me four-and-twenty smacks,and prick holes in my body with pins, and raise weals on my armswith pinches! try those jokes on a brother-inw; im an old dog,and "tus, tus" is no use with me." "thou shalt die," said rhadamanthus in a loud voice; "relent, thoutiger; humble thyself, proud nimrod; suffer and he silent, for noimpossibilities are asked of thee; it is not for thee to inquireinto the difficulties in this matter; smacked thou must be, prickedthou shalt see thyself, and with pinches thou must be made to howl.ho, i say, officials, obey my orders; or by the word of an honest man,ye shall see what ye were born for." at this some six duennas, advancing across the court, made theirappearance in procession, one after the other, four of them withspectacles, and all with their right hands uplifted, showing fourfingers of wrist to make their hands look longer, as is the fashionnow-a-days. no sooner had sancho caught sight of them than,bellowing like a bull, he eximed, "i might let myself be handled byall the world; but allow duennas to touch me- not a bit of it! scratchmy face, as my master was served in this very castle; run me throughthe body with burniÉäd daggers; pinch my arms with red-hot pincers;ill bear all in patience to serve these gentlefolk; but i wont letduennas touch me, though the devil should carry me off!" here don quixote, too, broke silence, saying to sancho, "havepatience, my son, and gratify these noble persons, and give all thanksto heaven that it has infused such virtue into thy person, that by itssufferings thou canst disen²ånt the en²ånted and restore to life thedead." the duennas were now close to sancho, and he, having be moretractable and reasonable, settling himself well in his ²åir presentedhis face and beard to the first, who delivered him a smack verystoutlyid on, and then made him a low curtsey. "less politeness and less paint, senora duenna," said sancho; "bygod your hands smell of vinegar-wash." in fine, all the duennas smacked him and several others of thehousehold pinched him; but what he could not stand was being prickedby the pins; and so, apparently out of patience, he started up outof his ²åir, and seizing a lighted torch that stood near him fellupon the duennas and the whole set of his tormentors, eximing,"begone, ye ministers of hell; im not made of brass not to feelsuch out-of-the-way tortures." at this instant altisidora, who probably was tired of having been solong lying on her back, turned on her side; seeing which thebystanders cried out almost with one voice, "altisidora is alive!altisidora lives!" rhadamanthus bade sancho put away his wrath, as the object theyhad in view was now attained. when don quixote saw altisidora move, hewent on his knees to sancho saying to him, "now is the time, son of mybowels, not to call thee my squire, for thee to give thyself some ofthoseÉäs thou art bound toy on for the disen²åntment ofdulcinea. now, i say, is the time when the virtue that is in thee isripe, and endowed with efficacy to work the good that is looked forfrom thee."
µÚ204Ò³ to which sancho made answer, "thats trick upon trick, i think,and not honey upon pancakes; a nice thing it would be for a whippingtoe now, on the top of pinches, smacks, and pin-proddings! you hadbetter take a big stone and tie it round my neck, and pitch me intoa well; i should not mind it much, if im to be always made the cow ofthe wedding for the cure of other peoples ailments. leave me alone;or else by god ill fling the whole thing to the dogs, lete whatmay." altisidora had by this time sat up on the catafalque, and as Éä didso the rions sounded, apanied by the flutes, and the voicesof all present eximing, "long life to altisidora! long life toaltisidora!" the duke and duchess and the kings minos and rhadamanthusstood up, and all, together with don quixote and sancho, advanced toreceive her and take her down from the catafalque; and Éä, makingas though Éä were recovering from a swoon, bowed her head to the dukeand duchess and to the kings, and looking sideways at don quixote,said to him, "god forgive thee, insensible knight, for through thycruelty i have been, to me it seems, more than a thousand years in theother world; and to thee, the mostpassionate upon earth, irender thanks for the life i am now in possession of. from this dayforth, friend sancho, count as thine six smocks of mine which i bestowupon thee, to make as many shirts for thyself, and if they are not allquite whole, at any rate they are all clean." sancho kissed her hands in gratitude, kneeling, and with the mitrein his hand. the duke bade them take it from him, and give him backhis cap and doublet and remove the ming robe. sancho begged theduke to let them leave him the robe and mitre; as he wanted to takethem home for a token and memento of that unexampled adventure. theduchess said they must leave them with him; for he knew already what agreat friend of his Éä was. the duke then gave orders that thecourt should be cleared, and that all should retire to their ²åmbers,and that don quixote and sancho should be conducted to their oldquarters.²åpter lxx which follows sixty-nine and deals with matters indispensable forthe clearprehension of this history sancho slept that night in a cot in the same ²åmber with donquixote, a thing he would have dly excused if he could for heknew very well that with questions and answers his master would notlet him sleep, and he was in no humour for talking much, as he stillfelt the pain of histe martyrdom, which interfered with his freedomof speech; and it would have been more to his taste to sleep in ahovel alone, than in that luxurious ²åmber inpany. and so wellfounded did his apprehension prove, and so correct was hisanticipation, that scarcely had his master got into bed when hesaid, "what dost thou think of tonights adventure, sancho? greatand mighty is the power of cold-hearted scorn, for thou with thine owneyes hast seen altisidora in, not by arrows, nor by the sword,nor by any warlike weapon, nor by deadly poisons, but by the thoughtof the sternness and scorn with which i have always treated her." "Éä might have died and wee," said sancho, "when Éä pleasedand how Éä pleased; and Éä might have left me alone, for i nevermade her fall in love or scorned her. i dont know nor can i imaginehow the recovery of altisidora, a damsel more fanciful than wise,can have, as i have said before, anything to do with the sufferings ofsancho panza. now i begin to see inly and clearly that there areen²ånters and en²ånted people in the world; and may god deliver mefrom them, since i cant deliver myself; and so i beg of yourworship to let me sleep and not ask me any more questions, unlessyou want me to throw myself out of the window." "sleep, sancho my friend," said don quixote, "if the pinprodding andpinches thou hast received and the smacks administered to thee willlet thee." "no pain came up to the insult of the smacks," said sancho, "for thesimple reason that it was duennas, confound them, that gave them tome; but once more i entreat your worship to let me sleep, for sleep isrelief from misery to those who are miserable when awake." "be it so, and god be with thee," said don quixote. they fell asleep, both of them, and cide hamete, the author ofthis great history, took this opportunity to record and rte what itwas that induced the duke and duchess to get up the borate plotthat has been described. the bachelor samson carrasco, he says, notforgetting how he as the knight of the mirrors had been vanquiÉäd andoverthrown by don quixote, which defeat and overthrow upset all hisns, resolved to try his hand again, hoping for better luck thanhe had before; and so, having learned where don quixote was from thepage who brought the letter and present to sanchos wife, teresapanza, he got himself new armour and another horse, and put a whitemoon upon his shield, and to carry his arms he had a mule led by apeasant, not by tom cecial his former squire for fear he should berecognised by sancho or don quixote. he came to the dukes castle, andthe duke informed him of the road and route don quixote had taken withthe intention of being present at the jousts at saragossa. he toldhim, too, of the jokes he had practised upon him, and of the devicefor the disen²åntment of dulcinea at the expense of sanchosbackside; and finally he gave him an ount of the trick sancho hadyed upon his master, making him believe that dulcinea was en²åntedand turned into a country wench; and of how the duchess, his wife, hadpersuaded sancho that it was he himself who was deceived, inasmu²ås dulcinea was really en²ånted; at which the bachelorughed nota little, and marvelled as well at the sharpness and simplicity ofsancho as at the length to which don quixotes madness went. theduke begged of him if he found him £¨whether he overcame him or not£© toreturn that way and let him know the result. this the bachelor did; heset out in quest of don quixote, and not finding him at saragossa,he went on, and how he fared has been already told. he returned to thedukes castle and told him all, what the conditions of thebatwere, and how don quixote was now, like a loyal knight-errant,returning to keep his promise of retiring to his vige for a year,by which time, said the bachelor, he might perhaps be cured of hismadness; for that was the object that had led him to adopt thesedisguises, as it was a sad thing for a gentleman of such good parts asdon quixote to be a madman. and so he took his leave of the duke,and went home to his vige to wait there for don quixote, who waing after him. thereupon the duke seized the opportunity ofpractising this mystification upon him; so much did he enjoyeverything connected with sancho and don quixote. he had the roadsabout the castle far and near, everywhere he thought don quixote waslikely to pass on his return, upied byrge numbers of hisservants on foot and on horseback, who were to bring him to thecastle, by fair means or foul, if they met him. they did meet him, andsent word to the duke, who, having already settled what was to bedone, as soon as he heard of his arrival, ordered the torches anmps in the court to be lit and altisidora to be ced on thecatafalque with all the pomp and ceremony that has been described, thewhole affair being so well arranged and acted that it differed butlittle from reality. and cide hamete says, moreover, that for his parthe considers the concocters of the joke as crazy as the victims of it,and that the duke and duchess were not two fingers breadth removedfrom being something like fools themselves when they took such painsto make game of a pair of fools. as for thetter, one was sleeping soundly and the other lyingawake upied with his desultory thoughts, when daylight came to thembringing with it the desire to rise; for thezy down was never adelight to don quixote, victor or vanquiÉäd. altisidora,e backfrom death to life as don quixote fancied, following up the freak ofher lord anddy, entered the ²åmber, crowned with the gand Éähad worn on the catafalque and in a robe of white taffetaembroidered with gold flowers, her hair flowing loose over hershoulders, and leaning upon a staff of fine ck ebony. donquixote, disconcerted and in confusion at her appearance, huddledhimself up and well-nigh covered himself altogether with the Éäetsand counterpane of the bed, tongue-tied, and unable to offer her anycivility. altisidora seated herself on a ²åir at the head of the bed,and, after a deep sigh, said to him in a feeble, soft voice, "whenwomen of rank and modest maidens trample honour under foot, and give aloose to the tongue that breaks through every impediment, publishingabroad the inmost secrets of their hearts, they are reduced to soreextremities. such a one am i, senor don quixote of man²å, cruÉäd,conquered, love-smitten, but yet patient under suffering and virtuous,and so much so that my heart broke with grief and i lost my life.for thest two days i have been dead, in by the thought of thecruelty with which thou hast treated me, obdurate knight, o harder thou than marble to my int;or at least believed to be dead by all who saw me; and had it not beenthat love, taking pity on me, let my recovery rest upon the sufferingsof this good squire, there i should have remained in the other world." "love might very well have let it rest upon the sufferings of myass, and i should have been obliged to him," said sancho. "but tellme, senora- and may heaven send you a tenderer lover than my master-what did you see in the other world? what goes on in hell? for ofcourse thats where one who dies in despair is bound for."
µÚ205Ò³ "to tell you the truth," said altisidora, "i cannot have diedoutright, for i did not go into hell; had i gone in, it is verycertain i should never havee out again, do what i might. the truthis, i came to the gate, where some dozen or so of devils wereying tennis, all in breeches and doublets, with falling corstrimmed with flemish bonce, and ruffles of the same that servedthem for wristbands, with four fingers breadth of the arms exposed tomake their hands look longer; in their hands they held rackets offire; but what amazed me still more was that books, apparently full ofwind and rubbish, served them for tennis balls, a strange andmarvellous thing; this, however, did not astonish me so much as toobserve that, although with yers it is usual for the winners tobe d and the losers sorry, there in that game all were growling,all were snarling, and all were cursing one another." "thats nowonder," said sancho; "for devils, whether ying or not, can neverbe content, win or lose." "very likely," said altisidora; "but there is another thing thatsurprises me too, i mean surprised me then, and that was that noball ousted the first throw or was of any use a second time; and itwas wonderful the constant session there was of books, new and old.to one of them, a brand-new, well-bound one, they gave such a strokethat they knocked the guts out of it and scattered the leaves about.look what book that is, said one devil to another, and the otherreplied, it is the "second part of the history of don quixote ofman²å," not by cide hamete, the original author, but by anaragonese who by his own ount is of tordesis. out of this withit, said the first, and into the depths of hell with it out of mysight. is it so bad? said the other. so bad is it, said thefirst, that if i had set myself deliberately to make a worse, i couldnot have done it. they then went on with their game, knocking otherbooks about; and i, having heard them mention the name of donquixote whom i love and adore so, took care to retain this vision inmy memory." "a vision it must have been, no doubt," said don quixote, "for thereis no other i in the world; this history has been going about here forsome time from hand to hand, but it does not stay long in any, foreverybody gives it a taste of his foot. i am not disturbed byhearing that i am wandering in a fantastic shape in the darkness ofthe pit or in the daylight above, for i am not the one that historytreats of. if it should be good, faithful, and true, it will have agesof life; but if it should be bad, from its birth to its burial willnot be a very long journey." altisidora was about to proceed with herint against donquixote, when he said to her, "i have several times told you, senorathat it grieves me you should have set your affections upon me, asfrom mine they can only receive gratitude, but no return. i was bornto belong to dulcinea del toboso, and the fates, if there are any,dedicated me to her; and to suppose that any other beauty can take thece Éä upies in my heart is to suppose an impossibility. thisfrank deration should suffice to make you retire within thebounds of your modesty, for no one can bind himself to doimpossibilities." hearing this, altisidora, with a show of anger and agitation,eximed, "gods life! don stockfish, soul of a mortar, stone of adate, more obstinate and obdurate than a clown asked a favour whenhe has his mind made up, if i fall upon you ill tear your eyes out!do you fancy, don vanquiÉäd, don cudgelled, that i died for yoursake? all that you have seen to-night has been make-believe; im notthe woman to let the ck of my nail suffer for such a camel, muchless die!" "that i can well believe," said sancho; "for all that about loverspining to death is absurd; they may talk of it, but as for doing it-judas may believe that!" while they were talking, the musician, singer, and poet, who hadsung the two stanzas given above came in, and making a profoundobeisance to don quixote said, "will your worship, sir knight,reckon and retain me in the number of your most faithful servants, fori have long been a great admirer of yours, as well because of yourfame as because of your achievements?" "will your worship tell mewho you are," replied don quixote, "so that my courtesy may beanswerable to your deserts?" the young man replied that he was themusician and songster of the night before. "of a truth," said donquixote, "your worship has a most excellent voice; but what you sangdid not seem to me very much to the purpose; for what havegarcssos stanzas to do with the death of thisdy?" "dont be surprised at that," returned the musician; "for with thecallow poets of our day the way is for every one to write as hepleases and pilfer where he chooses, whether it be germane to thematter or not, and now-a-days there is no piece of silliness theycan sing or write that is not set down to poetic licence." don quixote was about to reply, but was prevented by the duke andduchess, who came in to see him, and with them there followed a longand delightful conversation, in the course of which sancho said somany droll and saucy things that he left the duke and duchesswondering not only at his simplicity but at his sharpness. don quixotebegged their permission to take his departure that same day,inasmuch as for a vanquiÉäd knight like himself it was fitter heshould live in a pig-sty than in a royal pce. they gave it veryreadily, and the duchess asked him if altisidora was in his goodgraces. he replied, "senora, let me tell yourdyship that this damselsailmentes entirely of idleness, and the cure for it is honestand constant employment. Éä herself has told me thatce is wornin hell; and as Éä must know how to make it, let it never be out ofher hands; for when Éä is upied in shifting the bobbins to andfro, the image or images of what Éä loves will not shift to and froin her thoughts; this is the truth, this is my opinion, and this is myadvice." "and mine," added sancho; "for i never in all my life saw ce-maker that died for love; when damsels are at work their mindsare more set on finishing their tasks than on thinking of their loves.i speak from my own experience; for when im digging i never thinkof my old woman; i mean my teresa panza, whom i love better than myown eyelids." "you say well, sancho," said the duchess, "and i willtake care that my altisidora employs herself henceforward inneedlework of some sort; for Éä is extremely expert at it." "there isno asion to have recourse to that remedy, senora," said altisidora;"for the mere thought of the cruelty with which this vagabondviin has treated me will suffice to blot him out of my memorywithout any other device; with your highnesss leave i will retire,not to have before my eyes, i wont say his rueful countenance, buthis abominable, ugly looks." "that reminds me of themon saying,that he that rails is ready to forgive," said the duke. altisidora then, pretending to wipe away her tears with ahandkerchief, made an obeisance to her master and mistress and quittedthe room. "ill luck betide thee, poor damsel," said sancho, "ill luck betidethee! thou hast fallen in with a soul as dry as a rush and a heartas hard as oak; had it been me, ifaith another cock would havecrowed to thee." so the conversation came to an end, and don quixote dressedhimself and dined with the duke and duchess, and set out the sameevening.²åpter lxxi of what passed between don quixote and his squire sancho on theway to their vige the vanquiÉäd and afflicted don quixote went along very downcast inone respect and very happy in another. his sadness arose from hisdefeat, and his satisfaction from the thought of the virtue thatyin sancho, as had been proved by the resurrection of altisidora;though it was with difficulty he could persuade himself that thelove-smitten damsel had been really dead. sancho went along anythingbut cheerful, for it grieved him that altisidora had not kept herpromise of giving him the smocks; and turning this over in his mind hesaid to his master, "surely, senor, im the most unlucky doctor in theworld; theres many a physician that, after killing the sick man hehad to cure, requires to be paid for his work, though it is onlysigning a bit of a list of medicines, that the apothecary and not hemakes up, and, there, hisbour is over; but with me though to curesomebody else costs me drops of blood, smacks, pinches,pinproddings, and whippings, nobody gives me a farthing. well, i swearby all thats good if they put another patient into my hands,theyll have to grease them for me before i cure him; for, as theysay, its by his singing the abbot gets his dinner, and im notgoing to believe that heaven has bestowed upon me the virtue i have,that i should be dealing it out to others all for nothing." "thou art right, sancho my friend," said don quixote, "andaltisidora has behaved very badly in not giving thee the smocks Éäpromised; and although that virtue of thine is gratis data- as ithas cost thee no study whatever, any more than such study as thypersonal sufferings may be- i can say for myself that if thouwouldst have payment for theÉäs on ount of the disen²ånt ofdulcinea, i would have given it to thee freely ere this. i am notsure, however, whether payment willport with the cure, and i wouldnot have the reward interfere with the medicine. i think there will benothing lost by trying it; consider how much thou wouldst have,sancho, and whip thyself at once, and pay thyself down with thineown hand, as thou hast money of mine."
µÚ206Ò³ at this proposal sancho opened his eyes and his ears a palmsbreadth wide, and in his heart very readily acquiesced in whippinghimself, and said he to his master, "very well then, senor, illhold myself in readiness to gratify your worships wiÉäs if im toprofit by it; for the love of my wife and children forces me to seemgrasping. let your worship say how much you will pay me for eacsh i give myself." "if sancho," replied don quixote, "i were to requite thee as theimportance and nature of the cure deserves, the treasures of venice,the mines of potosi, would be insufficient to pay thee. see whatthou hast of mine, and put a price on eachsh." "of them," said sancho, "there are three thousand three hundredand odd; of these i have given myself five, the rest remain; let thefive go for the odd ones, and let us take the three thousand threehundred, which at a quarter real apiece £¨for i will not take lessthough the whole world should bid me£© make three thousand threehundred quarter reals; the three thousand are one thousand fivehundred half reals, which make seven hundred and fifty reals; andthe three hundred make a hundred and fifty half reals, whiche toseventy-five reals, which added to the seven hundred and fifty makeeight hundred and twenty-five reals in all. these i will stop out ofwhat i have belonging to your worship, and ill return home rich andcontent, though well whipped, for theres no taking trout- but i sayno more." "o blessed sancho! o dear sancho!" said don quixote; "how we shallbe bound to serve thee, dulcinea and i, all the days of our lives thatheaven may grant us! if Éä returns to her lost shape £¨and it cannotbe but that Éä will£© her misfortune will have been good fortune,and my defeat a most happy triumph. but look here, sancho; when wiltthou begin the scourging? for if thou wilt make short work of it, iwill give thee a hundred reals over and above." "when?" said sancho; "this night without fail. let your worshiporder it so that we pass it out of doors and in the open air, and illscarify myself." night, longed for by don quixote with the greatest anxiety in theworld, came atst, though it seemed to him that the wheels ofapollos car had broken down, and that the day was drawing itselfout longer than usual, just as is the case with lovers, who never makethe reckoning of their desires agree with time. they made their way atlength in among some pleasant trees that stood a little distancefrom the road, and there vacating rocinantes saddle and dapplespack-saddle, they stretched themselves on the green grass and madetheir supper off sanchos stores, and he making a powerful andflexible whip out of dapples halter and headstall retreated abouttwenty paces from his master among some beech trees. don quixoteseeing him march off with such resolution and spirit, said to him,"take care, my friend, not to cut thyself to pieces; allow thÉäs to wait for one another, and do not be in so great a hurry asto run thyself out of breath midway; i mean, do noty on sostrenuously as to make thy life fail thee before thou hast reached thedesired number; and that thou mayest not lose by a card too much ortoo little, i will station myself apart and count on my rosary heretheÉäs thou givest thyself. may heaven help thee as thy goodintention deserves." "pledges dont distress a good payer," said sancho; "i mean toyon in such a way as without killing myself to hurt myself, for inthat, no doubt, lies the essence of this miracle." he then stripped himself from the waist upwards, and snatching upthe rope he began toy on and don quixote to count theÉäs. hemight have given himself six or eight when he began to think thejoke no trifle, and its price very low; and holding his hand for amoment, he told his master that he cried off on the score of a blindbargain, for each of thoseÉäs ought to be paid for at the rateof half a real instead of a quarter. "go on, sancho my friend, and be not diÉäartened," said donquixote; "for i double the stakes as to price." "in that case," said sancho, "in gods hand be it, and let it raiÉäs." but the rogue no longerid them on his shoulders, buid on to the trees, with such groans every now and then, that onewould have thought at each of them his soul was being plucked up bythe roots. don quixote, touched to the heart, and fearing he mightmake an end of himself, and that through sanchos imprudence hemight miss his own object, said to him, "as thou livest, my friend,let the matter rest where it is, for the remedy seems to me a veryrough one, and it will he well to have patience; zamora was not wonin an hour. if i have not reckoned wrong thou hast given thyself overa thousandÉäs; that is enough for the present; for the ass, toput it in homely phrase, bears the load, but not the overload." "no, no, senor," replied sancho; "it shall never be said of me, themoney paid, the arms broken; go back a little further, yourworship, and let me give myself at any rate a thousandÉäs more;for in a couple of bouts like this we shall have finiÉäd off the lot,and there will be even cloth to spare." "as thou art in such a willing mood," said don quixote, "mayheaven aid thee;y on and ill retire." sancho returned to his task with so much resolution that he soon hadthe bark stripped off several trees, such was the severity withwhich he whipped himself; and one time, raising his voice, andgiving a beech a tremendoussh, he cried out, "here dies samson, andall with him!" at the sound of his piteous cry and of the stroke of the cruelsh,don quixote ran to him at once, and seizing the twisted halter thatserved him for a courbash, said to him, "heaven forbid, sancho myfriend, that to please me thou shouldst lose thy life, which is neededfor the support of thy wife and children; let dulcinea wait for abetter opportunity, and i will content myself with a hope soon to berealised, and have patience until thou hast gained fresh strength soas to finish off this business to the satisfaction of everybody." "as your worship will have it so, senor," said sancho, "so be it;but throw your cloak over my shoulders, for im sweating and i dontwant to take cold; its a risk that novice disciplinants run." don quixote obeyed, and stripping himself covered sancho, whoslept until the sun woke him; they then resumed their journey, whichfor the time being they brought to an end at a vige thatythree leagues farther on. they dismounted at a hostelry which donquixote recognised as such and did not take to be a castle withmoat, turrets, portcullis, and drawbridge; for ever since he hadbeen vanquiÉäd he talked more rationally about everything, as will beshown presently. they quartered him in a room on the ground floor,where in ce of leather hangings there were pieces of paintedserge such as theymonly use in viges. on one of them waspainted by some very poor hand the rape of helen, when the boldguest carried her off from menus, and on the other was the story ofdido and aeneas, Éä on a high tower, as though Éä were makingsignals with a half Éäet to her fugitive guest who was out at seaflying in a frigate or brigantine. he noticed in the two storiesthat helen did not go very reluctantly, for Éä wasughing slyly androguishly; but the fair dido was shown dropping tears the size ofwalnuts from her eyes. don quixote as he looked at them observed,"those twodies were very unfortunate not to have been born inthis age, and i unfortunate above all men not to have been born intheirs. had i fallen in with those gentlemen, troy would not have beenburned or carthage destroyed, for it would have been only for me toy paris, and all these misfortunes would have been avoided." "illy a bet," said sancho, "that before long there wont be atavern, roadside inn, hostelry, or barbers shop where the story ofour doings wont be painted up; but id like it painted by the hand ofa better painter than painted these." "thou art right, sancho," said don quixote, "for this painter islike orbaneja, a painter there was at ubeda, who when they asked himwhat he was painting, used to say, whatever it may turn out; and ifhe ²ånced to paint a cock he would write under it, this is acock, for fear they might think it was a fox. the painter orwriter, for its all the same, who publiÉäd the history of this newdon quixote that hase out, must have been one of this sort ithink, sancho, for he painted or wrote whatever it might turn out;or perhaps he is like a poet called mauleon that was about the courtsome years ago, who used to answer at haphazard whatever he was asked,and on one asking him what deum de deo meant, he replied de dondediere. but, putting this aside, tell me, sancho, hast thou a mind tohave another turn at thyself to-night, and wouldst thou rather have itindoors or in the open air?" "egad, senor," said sancho, "for what im going to give myself, ies all the same to me whether it is in a house or in the fields;still id like it to be among trees; for i think they arepanyfor me and help me to bear my pain wonderfully." "and yet it must not be, sancho my friend," said don quixote;"but, to enable thee to recover strength, we must keep it for ourown vige; for at thetest we shall get there the day aftertomorrow."
µÚ207Ò³ sancho said he might do as he pleased; but that for his own parthe would like to finish off the business quickly before his bloodcooled and while he had an appetite, because "in dy there is apt tobe danger" very often, and "praying to god and plying the hammer," and"one take was better than two ill give thees," and "a sparrow in thehand than a vulture on the wing." "for gods sake, sancho, no more proverbs!" eximed don quixote;"it seems to me thou art bing sicut erat again; speak in ain, simple, straight-forward way, as i have often told thee, andthou wilt find the good of it." "i dont know what bad luck it is of mine," argument to my mind;however, i mean to mend said sancho, "but i cant utter a word withouta proverb that is not as good as an argument to my mind; however, imean to mend if i can;" and so for the present the conversation ended.²åpter lxxii of how don quixote and sancho reached their vige all that day don quixote and sancho remained in the vige andinn waiting for night, the one to finish off his task of scourgingin the open country, the other to see it apliÉäd, for thereinythe aplishment of his wiÉäs. meanwhile there arrived at thehostelry a traveller on horseback with three or four servants, oneof whom said to him who appeared to be the master, "here, senor donalvaro tarfe, your worship may take your siesta to-day; the quartersseem clean and cool." when he heard this don quixote said to sancho, "look here, sancho;on turning over the leaves of that book of the second part of myhistory i think i came casually upon this name of don alvaro tarfe." "very likely," said sancho; "we had better let him dismount, andby-and-by we can ask about it." the gentleman dismounted, and thendy gave him a room on theground floor opposite don quixotes and adorned with painted sergehangings of the same sort. the newly arrived gentleman put on a summercoat, anding out to the gateway of the hostelry, which was wideand cool, addressing don quixote, who was pacing up and down there, heasked, "in what direction your worship bound, gentle sir?" "to a vige near this which is my own vige," replied donquixote; "and your worship, where are you bound for?" "i am going to granada, senor," said the gentleman, "to my owncountry." "and a goodly country," said don quixote; "but will your worshipdo me the favour of telling me your name, for it strikes me it is ofmore importance to me to know it than i can tell you." "my name is don alvaro tarfe," replied the traveller. to which don quixote returned, "i have no doubt whatever that yourworship is that don alvaro tarfe who appears in print in the secondpart of the history of don quixote of man²å,tely printed andpubliÉäd by a new author." "i am the same," replied the gentleman; "and that same donquixote, the principal personage in the said history, was a very greatfriend of mine, and it was i who took him away from home, or atleast induced him toe to some jousts that were to be held atsaragossa, whither i was going myself; indeed, i showed him manykindnesses, and saved him from having his shoulders touched up bythe executioner because of his extreme rashness." tell me, senor don alvaro," said don quixote, "am i at all like thatdon quixote you talk of?" "no indeed," replied the traveller, "not a bit." "and that don quixote-" said our one, "had he with him a squirecalled sancho panza?" "he had," said don alvaro; "but though he had the name of being verydroll, i never heard him say anything that had any drollery in it." "that i can well believe," said sancho at this, "for toe outwith drolleries is not in everybodys line; and that sancho yourworship speaks of, gentle sir, must be some great scoundrel,dunderhead, and thief, all in one; for i am the real sancho panza, andi have more drolleries than if it rained them; let your worship onlytry;e along with me for a year or so, and you will find theyfall from me at every turn, and so rich and so plentiful that thoughmostly i dont know what i am saying i make everybody that hears mugh. and the real don quixote of man²å, the famous, the valiant,the wise, the lover, the righter of wrongs, the guardian of minors andorphans, the protector of widows, the killer of damsels, he who hasfor his sole mistress the peerless dulcinea del toboso, is thisgentleman before you, my master; all other don quixotes and allother sancho panzas are dreams and mockeries." "by god i believe it," said don alvaro; "for you have uttered moredrolleries, my friend, in the few words you have spoken than the othersancho panza in all i ever heard from him, and they were not a few. hewas more greedy than well-spoken, and more dull than droll; and i amconvinced that the en²ånters who persecute don quixote the goodhave been trying to persecute me with don quixote the bad. but i dontknow what to say, for i am ready to swear i left him shut up in thecasa del nuncio at toledo, and here another don quixote turns up,though a very different one from mine." "i dont know whether i am good," said don quixote, "but i cansafely say i am not the bad; and to prove it, let me tell you, senordon alvaro tarfe, i have never in my life been in saragossa; so farfrom that, when it was told me that this imaginary don quixote hadbeen present at the jousts in that city, i declined to enter it, inorder to drag his falsehood before the face of the world; and so iwent on straight to barcelona, the treasure-house of courtesy, havenof strangers, asylum of the poor, home of the valiant, ²åmpion of thewronged, pleasant ex²ånge of firm friendships, and city unrivalled insite and beauty. and though the adventures that befell me there arenot by any means matters of enjoyment, but rather of regret, i donot regret them, simply because i have seen it. in a word, senor donalvaro tarfe, i am don quixote of man²å, the one that famespeaks of, and not the unlucky one that has attempted to usurp my nameand deck himself out in my ideas. i entreat your worship by yourdevoir as a gentleman to be so good as to make a deration beforethe alcalde of this vige that you never in all your life saw meuntil now, and that neither am i the don quixote in print in thesecond part, nor this sancho panza, my squire, the one your worshipknew." "that i will do most willingly," replied don alvaro; "though itamazes me to find two don quixotes and two sancho panzas at once, asmuch alike in name as they differ in demeanour; and again i say anddere that what i saw i cannot have seen, and that what happenedme cannot have happened." "no doubt your worship is en²ånted, like mydy dulcinea deltoboso," said sancho; "and would to heaven your disen²åntmentrested on my giving myself another three thousand and oddÉäslike what im giving myself for her, for idy them on withoutlooking for anything." "i dont understand that about theÉäs," said don alvaro.sancho replied that it was a long story to tell, but he would tell himif they happened to he going the same road. by this dinner-time arrived, and don quixote and don alvaro dinedtogether. the alcalde of the vige came by ²ånce into the inntogether with a notary, and don quixoteid a petition before him,showing that it was requisite for his rights that don alvaro tarfe,the gentleman there present, should make a deration before him thathe did not know don quixote of man²å, also there present, and thathe was not the one that was in print in a history entitled "secondpart of don quixote of man²å, by one aveneda of tordesis."the alcalde finally put it in legal form, and the deration was madewith all the formalities required in such cases, at which donquixote and sancho were in high delight, as if a deration of thesort was of any great importance to them, and as if their words anddeeds did not inly show the difference between the two don quixotesand the two sanchos. many civilities and offers of service wereex²ånged by don alvaro and don quixote, in the course of which thegreat manchegan disyed such good taste that he disabused don alvaroof the error he was under; and he, on his part, felt convinced he musthave been en²ånted, now that he had been brought in contact withtwo such opposite don quixotes. evening came, they set out from the vige, and after about halfa league two roads branched off, one leading to don quixotes vige,the other the road don alvaro was to follow. in this short intervaldon quixote told him of his unfortunate defeat, and of dulcineasen²åntment and the remedy, all which threw don alvaro into freshamazement, and embracing don quixote and sancho he went his way, anddon quixote went his. that night he passed among trees again inorder to give sancho an opportunity of working out his penance,which he did in the same fashion as the night before, at the expenseof the bark of the beech trees much more than of his back, of which hetook such good care that theÉäs would not have knocked off a flyhad there been one there. the duped don quixote did not miss asingle stroke of the count, and he found that together with those ofthe night before they made up three thousand and twenty-nine. thesun apparently had got up early to witness the sacrifice, and with hislight they resumed their journey, discussing the deception practisedon don alvaro, and saying how well done it was to have taken hisderation before a magistrate in such an unimpea²åble form. thatday and night they travelled on, nor did anything worth mention happenthem, unless it was that in the course of the night sancho finiÉädoff his task, whereat don quixote was beyond measure joyful. hewatched for daylight, to see if along the road he should fall inwith his already disen²ånteddy dulcinea; and as he pursued hisjourney there was no woman he met that he did not go up to, to seeif Éä was dulcinea del toboso, as he held it absolutely certainthat merlins promises could not lie. full of these thoughts andanxieties, they ascended a rising ground wherefrom they descried theirown vige, at the sight of which sancho fell on his kneeseximing, "open thine eyes, longed-for home, and see how thy sonsancho panzaes back to thee, if not very rich, very wellwhipped! open thine arms and receive, too, thy son don quixote, who,if hees vanquiÉä by the arm of another,es victor overhimself, which, as he himself has told me, is the greatest victoryanyone can desire. im bringing back money, for if i was well whipped,i went mounted like a gentleman."
µÚ208Ò³ "have done with these fooleries," said don quixote; "let us pushon straight and get to our own ce, where we will give free range toour fancies, and settle our ns for our future pastoral life." with this they descended the slope and directed their steps to theirvige.²åpter lxxiii of the omens don quixote had as he entered his own vige, andother incidents that embellish and give a colour to this great history at the entrance of the vige, so says cide hamete, don quixote sawtwo boys quarrelling on the vige threshing-floor one of whom saidto the other, "take it easy, periquillo; thou shalt never see it againas long as thou livest." don quixote heard this, and said he to sancho, "dost thou notmark, friend, what that boy said, thou shalt never see it again aslong as thou livest?" "well," said sancho, "what does it matter if the boy said so?" "what!" said don quixote, "dost thou not see that, applied to theobject of my desires, the words mean that i am never to see dulcineamore?" sancho was about to answer, when his attention was diverted byseeing a haree flying across the in pursued by severalgreyhounds and sportsmen. in its terror it ran to take Éälter andhide itself under dapple. sancho caught it alive and presented it todon quixote, who was saying, "malum signum, malum signum! a hareflies, greyhounds ²åse it, dulcinea appears not." "your worships a strange man," said sancho; "lets take it forgranted that this hare is dulcinea, and these greyhounds ²åsing itthe malignant en²ånters who turned her into a country wench; Éäflies, and i catch her and put her into your worships hands, andyou hold her in your arms and cherish her; what bad sign is that, orwhat ill omen is there to be found here?" the two boys who had been quarrelling came over to look at the hare,and sancho asked one of them what their quarrel was about. he wasanswered by the one who had said, "thou shalt never see it again aslong as thou livest," that he had taken a cage full of crickets fromthe other boy, and did not mean to give it back to him as long as helived. sancho took out four cuartos from his pocket and gave them tothe boy for the cage, which he ced in don quixotes hands,saying, "there, senor! there are the omens broken and destroyed, andthey have no more to do with our affairs, to my thinking, fool as iam, than withst years clouds; and if i remember rightly i haveheard the curate of our vige say that it does not be christiansor sensible people to give any heed to these silly things; and evenyou yourself said the same to me some time ago, telling me that allchristians who minded omens were fools; but theres no need ofmaking words about it; let us push on and go into our vige." the sportsmen came up and asked for their hare, which don quixotegave them. they then went on, and upon the green at the entrance ofthe town they came upon the curate and the bachelor samson carrascobusy with their breviaries. it should be mentioned that sancho hadthrown, by way of a sumpter-cloth, over dapple and over the bundleof armour, the buckram robe painted with mes which they had putupon him at the dukes castle the night altisidora came back tolife. he had also fixed the mitre on dapples head, the oddesttransformation and decoration that ever ass in the world underwent.they were at once recognised by both the curate and the bachelor,who came towards them with open arms. don quixote dismounted andreceived them with a close embrace; and the boys, who are lynxesthat nothing escapes, spied out the asss mitre and came running tosee it, calling out to one another, "e here, boys, and see sanchopanzas ass figged out finer than mingo, and don quixotes beastleaner than ever." so at length, with the boys capering round them, and apaniedby the curate and the bachelor, they made their entrance into thetown, and proceeded to don quixotes house, at the door of whichthey found his housekeeper and niece, whom the news of his arrival hadalready reached. it had been brought to teresa panza, sanchos wife,as well, and Éä with her hair all loose and half naked, draggingsanchica her daughter by the hand, ran out to meet her husband; butseeing himing in by no means as good case as Éä thought agovernor ought to be, Éä said to him, "how is it youe this way,husband? it seems to me youe tramping and footsore, and lookingmore like a disorderly vagabond than a governor." "hold your tongue, teresa," said sancho; "often where there arepegs there are no flitches; lets go into the house and thereyoull hear strange things. i bring money, and thats the mainthing, got by my own industry without wronging anybody." "you bring the money, my good husband," said teresa, "and nomatter whether it was got this way or that; for, however you mayhave got it, youll not have brought any new practice into the world." sanchica embraced her father and asked him if he brought heranything, for Éä had been looking out for him as for the showers ofmay; and Éä taking hold of him by the girdle on one side, and hiswife by the hand, while the daughter led dapple, they made for theirhouse, leaving don quixote in his, in the hands of his niece andhousekeeper, and in thepany of the curate and the bachelor. don quixote at once, without any regard to time or season,withdrew in private with the bachelor and the curate, and in a fewwords told them of his defeat, and of the engagement he was undernot to quit his vige for a year, which he meant to keep to theletter without departing a hairs breadth from it, as became aknight-errant bound by scrupulous good faith and thews ofknight-errantry; and of how he thought of turning Éäpherd for thatyear, and taking his diversion in the solitude of the fields, where hecould with perfect freedom give range to his thoughts of love while hefollowed the virtuous pastoral calling; and he besought them, ifthey had not a great deal to do and were not prevented by moreimportant business, to consent to be hispanions, for he wouldbuy Éäep enough to qualify them for Éäpherds; and the most importantpoint of the whole affair, he could tell them, was settled, for he hadgiven them names that would fit them to a t. the curate asked whatthey were. don quixote replied that he himself was to be called theÉäpherd quixotize and the bachelor the Éäpherd carrascon, and thecurate the Éäpherd curambro, and sancho panza the Éäpherd pancino. both were astounded at don quixotes new craze; however, lest heshould once more make off out of the vige from them in pursuit ofhis chivalry, they trusting that in the course of the year he might becured, fell in with his new project, apuded his crazy idea as abright one, and offered to share the life with him. "and whats more,"said samson carrasco, "i am, as all the world knows, a very famouspoet, and ill be always making verses, pastoral, or courtly, or as itmaye into my head, to pass away our time in those secluded regionswhere we shall be roaming. but what is most needful, sirs, is thateach of us should choose the name of the Éäpherdess he means toglorify in his verses, and that we should not leave a tree, be it everso hard, without writing up and carving her name on it, as is thehabit and custom of love-smitten Éäpherds." "thats the very thing," said don quixote; "though i am relievedfrom looking for the name of an imaginary Éäpherdess, for theres thepeerless dulcinea del toboso, the glory of these brooksides, theornament of these meadows, the mainstay of beauty, the cream of allthe graces, and, in a word, the being to whom all praise isappropriate, be it ever so hyperbolical." "very true," said the curate; "but we the others must look about foramodating Éäpherdesses that will answer our purpose one way oranother." "and," added samson carrasco, "if they fail us, we can call themby the names of the ones in print that the world is filled with,filidas, amarilises, dianas, fleridas, gteas, belisardas; for asthey sell them in the market-ces we may fairly buy them and makethem our own. if mydy, or i should say my Éäpherdess, happens tobe called ana, ill sing her praises under the name of anarda, andif francisca, ill call her francenia, and if lucia, lucinda, for italles to the same thing; and sancho panza, if he joins thisfraternity, may glorify his wife teresa panza as teresaina." don quixoteughed at the adaptation of the name, and the curatebestowed vast praise upon the worthy and honourable resolution hehad made, and again offered to bear himpany all the time that hecould spare from his imperative duties. and so they took their leaveof him, rmending and beseeching him to take care of his health andtreat himself to a suitable diet. it so happened his niece and the housekeeper overheard all the threeof them said; and as soon as they were gone they both of them camein to don quixote, and said the niece, "whats this, uncle? now thatwe were thinking you hade back to stay at home and lead a quietrespectable life there, are you going to get into fresh entanglements,and turn young Éäpherd, thou thatest here, young Éäpherdgoing there? nay! indeed the straw is too hard now to make pipesof." "and," added the housekeeper, "will your worship be able to bear,out in the fields, the heats of summer, and the chills of winter,and the howling of the wolves? not you; for thats a life and abusiness for hardy men, bred and seasoned to such work almost from thetime they were in swaddling-clothes. why, to make choice of evils,its better to be a knight-errant than a Éäpherd! look here, senor;take my advice- and im not giving it to you full of bread and wine,but fasting, and with fifty years upon my head- stay at home, lookafter your affairs, go often to confession, be good to the poor, andupon my soul be it if any eviles to you."
µÚ209Ò³ "hold your peace, my daughters," said don quixote; "i know very wellwhat my duty is; help me to bed, for i dont feel very well; andrest assured that, knight-errant now or wandering Éäpherd to be, ishall never fail to have a care for your interests, as you will see inthe end." and the good wenches £¨for that they undoubtedly were£©£¬ thehousekeeper and niece, helped him to bed, where they gave himsomething to eat and made him asfortable as possible.²åpter lxxiv of how don quixote fell sick, and of the will he made, and how hedied as nothing that is mans canst for ever, but all tends everdownwards from its beginning to its end, and above all mans life, andas don quixotes enjoyed no special dispensation from heaven to stayits course, its end and close came when he least looked for it. for-whether it was of the dejection the thought of his defeat produced, orof heavens will that so ordered it- a fever settled upon him and kepthim in his bed for six days, during which he was often visited byhis friends the curate, the bachelor, and the barber, while his goodsquire sancho panza never quitted his bedside. they, persuaded that itwas grief at finding himself vanquiÉäd, and the object of hiÉäart, the liberation and disen²åntment of dulcinea, unattained, thatkept him in this state, strove by all the means in their power tocheer him up; the bachelor bidding him take heart and get up tobegin his pastoral life, for which he himself, he said, had alreadposed an eclogue that would take the shine out of all sannazaro hadever written, and had bought with his own money two famous dogs toguard the flock, one called barcino and the other butron, which aherdsman of quintanar had sold him. but for all this don quixote could not shake off his sadness. hisfriends called in the doctor, who felt his pulse and was not very wellsatisfied with it, and said that in any case it would be well forhim to attend to the health of his soul, as that of his body was ina bad way. don quixote heard this calmly; but not so hishousekeeper, his niece, and his squire, who fell weeping bitterly,as if they had him lying dead before them. the doctors opinion wasthat mncholy and depression were bringing him to his end. donquixote begged them to leave him to himself, as he had a wish to sleepa little. they obeyed, and he slept at one stretch, as the sayingis, more than six hours, so that the housekeeper and niece thoughthe was going to sleep for ever. but at the end of that time he wokeup, and in a loud voice eximed, "blessed be almighty god, who hasshown me such goodness. in truth his mercies are boundless, and thesins of men can neither limit them nor keep them back!" the niece listened with attention to her uncles words, and theystruck her as more coherent than what usually fell from him, atleast during his illness, so Éä asked, "what are you saying, senor?has anything strange urred? what mercies or what sins of men areyou talking of?" "the mercies, niece," said don quixote, "are those that god has thismoment shown me, and with him, as i said, my sins are no impediment tothem. my reason is now free and clear, rid of the dark shadows ofignorance that my unhappy constant study of those detestable booksof chivalry cast over it. now i see through their absurdities anddeceptions, and it only grieves me that this destruction of myillusions hase sote that it leaves me no time to make someamends by reading other books that might be a light to my soul. niece,i feel myself at the point of death, and i would fain meet it insuch a way as to show that my life has not been so ill that i shouldleave behind me the name of a madman; for though i have been one, iwould not that the fact should be made iner at my death. call in tome, my dear, my good friends the curate, the bachelor samson carrasco,and master nichs the barber, for i wish to confess and make mywill." but his niece was saved the trouble by the entrance of thethree. the instant don quixote saw them he eximed, "good news foryou, good sirs, that i am no longer don quixote of man²å, butalonso quixano, whose way of life won for him the name of good. now ami the enemy of amadis of gaul and of the whole countless troop ofhis descendants; odious to me now are all the profane stories ofknight-errantry; now i perceive my folly, and the peril into whichreading them brought me; now, by gods mercy schooled into my rightsenses, i loathe them." when the three heard him speak in this way, they had no doubtwhatever that some new craze had taken possession of him; and saidsamson, "what? senor don quixote! now that we have intelligence of thdy dulcinea being disen²ånted, are you taking this line; now,just as we are on the point of bing Éäpherds, to pass our livessinging, like princes, are you thinking of turning hermit? hush, forheavens sake, be rational and lets have no more nonsense." "all that nonsense," said don quixote, "that until now has been areality to my hurt, my death will, with heavens help, turn to mygood. i feel, sirs, that i am rapidly drawing near death; a truce tojesting; let me have a confessor to confess me, and a notary to makemy will; for in extremities like this, man must not trifle with hissoul; and while the curate is confessing me let some one, i beg, gofor the notary." they looked at one another, wondering at don quixotes words; but,though uncertain, they were inclined to believe him, and one of thesigns by which they came to the conclusion he was dying was this sosudden andplete return to his senses after having been mad; for tothe words already quoted he added much more, so well expressed, sodevout, and so rational, as to banish all doubt and convince them thathe was sound of mind. the curate turned them all out, and left alonewith him confessed him. the bachelor went for the notary andreturned shortly afterwards with him and with sancho, who, havingalready learned from the bachelor the condition his master was in, andfinding the housekeeper and niece weeping, began to blubber and Éädtears. the confession over, the curate came out saying, "alonso quixano thegood is indeed dying, and is indeed in his right mind; we may now goin to him while he makes his will." this news gave a tremendous impulse to the brimming eyes of thehousekeeper, niece, and sancho panza his good squire, making the tearsburst from their eyes and a host of sighs from their hearts; for ofa truth, as has been said more than once, whether as in alonsoquixano the good, or as don quixote of man²å, don quixote wasalways of a gentle disposition and kindly in all his ways, and hencehe was beloved, not only by those of his own house, but by all whoknew him. the notary came in with the rest, and as soon as the preamble of thehad been set out and don quixote hadmended his soul to god withall the devout formalities that are usual,ing to the bequests,he said, "item, it is my will that, touching certain moneys in thehands of sancho panza £¨whom in my madness i made my squire£©£¬inasmuch as between him and me there have been certain ounts anddebits and credits, no im be made against him, nor any ountdemanded of him in respect of them; but that if anything remain overand above, after he has paid himself what i owe him, the bnce,which will be but little, shall be his, and much good may it do him;and if, as when i was mad i had a share in giving him the governmentof an ind, so, now that i am in my senses, i could give him that ofa kingdom, it should be his, for the simplicity of his ²åracter andthe fidelity of his conduct deserve it." and then, turning tosancho, he said, "forgive me, my friend, that i led thee to seem asmad as myself, making thee fall into the same error i myself fellinto, that there were and still are knights-errant in the world." "ah!" said sancho weeping, "dont die, master, but take my adviceand live many years; for the fooliÉäst thing a man can do in thislife is to let himself die without rhyme or reason, without anybodykilling him, or any hands but mncholys making an end of him.e,dont bezy, but get up from your bed and let us take to thefields in Éäpherds trim as we agreed. perhaps behind some bush weshall find thedy dulcinea disen²ånted, as fine as fine can be.if it be that you are dying of vexation at having been vanquiÉäd,ythe me on me, and say you were overthrown because i had girthedrocinante badly; besides you must have seen in your books ofchivalry that it is amon thing for knights to upset one another,and for him who is conquered to-day to be conqueror tomorrow." "very true," said samson, "and good sancho panzas view of thesecases is quite right." "sirs, not so fast," said don quixote, "inst years neststhere are no birds this year. i was mad, now i am in my senses; i wasdon quixote of man²å, i am now, as i said, alonso quixano thegood; and may my repentance and sincerity restore me to the esteem youused to have for me; and now let master notary proceed. "item, i leave all my property absolutely to antonia quixana myniece, here present, after all has been deducted from the mostavable portion of it that may be required to satisfy the bequests ihave made. and the first disbursement i desire to be made is thepayment of the wages i owe for the time my housekeeper has servedme, with twenty ducats, over and above, for a gown. the curate and thebachelor samson carrasco, now present, i appoint my executors. "item, it is my wish that if antonia quixana, my niece, desires tomarry, Éä shall marry a man of whom it shall be first of ascertained by information taken that he does not know what books ofchivalry are; and if it should be proved that he does, and if, inspite of this, my niece insists upon marrying him, and does marry him,then that Éä shall forfeit the whole of what i have left her, whichmy executors shall devote to works of ²årity as they please.
µÚ210Ò³ "item, i entreat the aforesaid gentlemen my executors, that, ifany happy ²ånce should lead them to discover the author who is saidto have written a history now going about under the title of secondpart of the achievements of don quixote of man²å, they beg of himon my behalf as earnestly as they can to forgive me for having been,without intending it, the cause of his writing so many and suchmonstrous absurdities as he has written in it; for i am leaving theworld with a feeling ofpunction at having provoked him to writethem." with this he closed his will, and a faintnessing over him hestretched himself out at full length on the bed. all were in a flutterand made haste to relieve him, and during the three days he livedafter that on which he made his will he fainted away very often. thehouse was all in confusion; but still the niece ate and thehousekeeper drank and sancho panza enjoyed himself; for inheritingproperty wipes out or softens down in the heir the feeling of griefthe dead man might be expected to leave behind him. atst don quixotes end came, after he had received all thesacraments, and had in full and forcible terms expressed hisdetestation of books of chivalry. the notary was there at the time,and he said that in no book of chivalry had he ever read of anyknight-errant dying in his bed so calmly and so like a christian asdon quixote, who amid the tears andmentations of all presentyielded up his spirit, that is to say died. on perceiving it thecurate begged the notary to bear witness that alonso quixano the goodmonly called don quixote of man²å, had passed away from thispresent life, and died naturally; and said he desired this testimonyin order to remove the possibility of any other author save cidehamete benengeli bringing him to life again falsely and makinginterminable stories out of his achievements. such was the end of the ingenious gentleman of man²å, whosevige cide hamete would not indicate precisely, in order to leaveall the towns and viges of man²å to contend among themselvesfor the right to adopt him and im him as a son, as the seven citiesof greece contended for homer. thementations of sancho and theniece and housekeeper are omitted here, as well as the new epitaphsupon his tomb; samson carrasco, however, put the following lines: a doughty gentleman lies here; a stranger all his life to fear; nor in his death could death prevail, in thatst hour, to make him quail. he for the world but little cared; and at his feats the world was scared; a crazy man his life he passed, but in his senses died atst. and said most sage cide hamete to his pen, "rest here, hung up bythis brass wire, upon this Éälf, o my pen, whether of skilful make orclumsy cut i know not; here shalt thou remain long ages hence,unless presumptuous or malignant story-tellers take thee down toprofane thee. but ere they touch thee warn them, and, as best thoucanst, say to them: hold off! ye weaklings; hold your hands! adventure it let none, for this emprise, my lord the king, was meant for me alone.for me alone was don quixote born, and i for him; it was his to act,mine to write; we two together make but one, notwithstanding and inspite of that pretended tordesillesque writer who has ventured orwould venture with his great, coarse, ill-trimmed ostrich quill towrite the achievements of my valiant knight;- no burden for hisshoulders, nor subject for his frozen wit: whom, if per²ånce thoushouldste to know him, thou shalt warn to leave at rest where theylie the weary mouldering bones of don quixote, and not to attempt tocarry him off, in opposition to all the privileges of death, to oldcastile, making him rise from the grave where in reality and truthhe lies stretched at full length, powerless to make any thirdexpedition or new sally; for the two that he has already made, so muchto the enjoyment and approval of everybody to whom they have beknown, in this as well as in foreign countries, are quite sufficientfor the purpose of turning into ridicule the whole of those made bythe whole set of the knights-errant; and so doing shalt thou dis²årgethy christian calling, giving good counsel to one that bearsill-will to thee. and i shall remain satisfied, and proud to have beenthe first who has ever enjoyed the fruit of his writings as fully aÉä could desire; for my desire has been no other than to deliverover to the detestation of mankind the false and foolish tales ofthe books of chivalry, which, thanks to that of my true don quixote,are even now tottering, and doubtless doomed to fall for ever.farewell." -the end- dedication of part ii to the count of lemos: these days past, when sending your excellency my ys, that hadappeared in print before being shown on the stage, i said, if iremember well, that don quixote was putting on his spurs to go andrender homage to your excellency. now i say that "with his spurs, heis on his way." should he reach destination methinks i shall haverendered some service to your excellency, as from many parts i amurged to send him off, so as to dispel the loathing and disgust causedby another don quixote who, under the name of second part, has runmasquerading through the whole world. and he who has shown thegreatest longing for him has been the great emperor of china, whowrote me a letter in chinese a month ago and sent it by a specialcourier. he asked me, or to be truthful, he begged me to send himdon quixote, for he intended to found a college where the spanishtongue would be taught, and it was his wish that the book to be readshould be the history of don quixote. he also added that i should goand be the rector of this college. i asked the bearer if his majestyhad afforded a sum in aid of my travel expenses. he answered, "no, noteven in thought." "then, brother," i replied, "you can return to your china, posthaste or at whatever haste you are bound to go, as i am not fit for solong a travel and, besides being ill, i am very much without money,while emperor for emperor and monarch for monarch, i have at naplesthe great count of lemos, who, without so many petty titles ofcolleges and rectorships, sustains me, protects me and does me morefavour than i can wish for." thus i gave him his leave and i beg mine from you, offering yourexcellency the "trabajos de persiles y sigismunda," a book i shallfinish within four months, deo volente, and which will be either theworst or the best that has beenposed in ournguage, i mean ofthose intended for entertainment; at which i repent of having calledit the worst, for, in the opinion of friends, it is bound to attainthe summit of possible quality. may your excellency return in suchhealth that is wiÉäd you; persiles will be ready to kiss your handand i your feet, being as i am, your excellencys most humble servant.from madrid, thisst day of october of the year one thousand sixhundred and fifteen. at the service of your excellency: miguel de cervantes saavedra the authors preface god bless me, gentle £¨or it may be plebeian£© reader, how eagerlymust thou be looking forward to this preface, expecting to findthere retaliation, scolding, and abuse against the author of thesecond don quixote- i mean him who was, they say, begotten attordesis and born at tarragona! well then, the truth is, i am notgoing to give thee that satisfaction; for, though injuries stir upanger in humbler breasts, in mine the rule must admit of an exception.thou wouldst have me call him ass, fool, and mpert, but i have nosuch intention; let his offence be his punishment, with his breadlet him eat it, and theres an end of it. what i cannot help takingamiss is that he ²årges me with being old and one-handed, as if ithad been in my power to keep time from passing over me, or as if theloss of my hand had been brought about in some tavern, and not onthe grandest asion the past or present has seen, or the futurecan hope to see. if my wounds have no beauty to the beholders eye,they are, at least, honourable in the estimation of those who knowwhere they were received; for the soldier shows to greater advantagedead in battle than alive in flight; and so strongly is this myfeeling, that if now it were proposed to perform an impossibilityfor me, i would rather have had my share in that mighty action, thanbe free from my wounds this minute without having been present atit. those the soldier shows on his face and breast are stars thatdirect others to the heaven of honour and ambition of meritedpraise; and moreover it is to be observed that it is not with greyhairs that one writes, but with the understanding, and thatmonlyimproves with years. i take it amiss, too, that he calls me envious,and exins to me, as if i were ignorant, what envy is; for reallyand truly, of the two kinds there are, i only know that which is holy,noble, and high-minded; and if that be so, as it is, i am not likelyto attack a priest, above all if, in addition, he holds the rank offamiliar of the holy office. and if he said what he did on ountof him on whose behalf it seems he spoke, he is entirely mistaken; fori worship the genius of that person, and admire his works and hisunceasing and strenuous industry. after all, i am grateful to thisgentleman, the author, for saying that my novels are more satiricalthan exemry, but that they are good; for they could not be thatunless there was a little of everything in them. i suspect thou wilt say that i am taking a very humble line, andkeeping myself too much within the bounds of my moderation, from afeeling that additional suffering should not be inflicted upon asufferer, and that what this gentleman has to endure must doubtless bevery great, as he does not dare toe out into the open field andbroad daylight, but hides his name and disguises his country as ifhe had been guilty of some lese majesty. if per²ånce thou shouldse to know him, tell him from me that i do not hold myselfaggrieved; for i know well what the temptations of the devil are,and that one of the greatest is putting it into a mans head that hecan write and print a book by which he will get as much fame as money,and as much money as fame; and to prove it i will beg of you, inyour own sprightly, pleasant way, to tell him this story.
µÚ211Ò³ there was a madman in seville who took to one of the drollestabsurdities and vagaries that ever madman in the world gave way to. itwas this: he made a tube of reed sharp at one end, and catching adog in the street, or wherever it might be, he with his foot heldone of its legs fast, and with his hand lifted up the other, and asbest he could fixed the tube where, by blowing, he made the dog asround as a ball; then holding it in this position, he gave it a coupleof ps on the belly, and let it go, saying to the bystanders £¨andthere were always plenty of them£©£º "do your worships think, now,that it is an easy thing to blow up a dog?"- does your worship thinknow, that it is an easy thing to write a book? and if this story does not suit him, you may, dear reader, tellhim this one, which is likewise of a madman and a dog. in cordova there was another madman, whose way it was to carry apiece of marble b or a stone, not of the lightest, on his head, andwhen he came upon any unwary dog he used to draw close to him andlet the weight fall right on top of him; on which the dog in a rage,barking and howling, would run three streets without stopping. it sohappened, however, that one of the dogs he dis²årged his load uponwas a cap-makers dog, of which his master was very fond. the stonecame down hitting it on the head, the dog raised a yell at the blow,the master saw the affair and was wroth, and snatching up ameasuring-yard ruÉäd out at the madman and did not leave a sound bonein his body, and at every stroke he gave him he said, "you dog, youthief! my lurcher! dont you see, you brute, that my dog is alurcher?" and so, repeating the word "lurcher" again and again, hesent the madman away beaten to a jelly. the madman took the lessonto heart, and vaniÉäd, and for more than a month never once showedhimself in public; but after that he came out again with his old trickand a heavier load than ever. he came up to where there was a dog, andexamining it very carefully without venturing to let the stone fall,he said: "this is a lurcher; ware!" in short, all the dogs he cameacross, be they mastiffs or terriers, he said were lurchers; and hedis²årged no more stones. maybe it will be the same with thishistorian; that he will not venture another time to dis²årge theweight of his wit in books, which, being bad, are harder thanstones. tell him, too, that i do not care a farthing for the threat heholds out to me of depriving me of my profit by means of his book;for, to borrow from the famous interlude of "the perendenga," i say inanswer to him, "long life to my lord the veintiquatro, and christ bewith us all." long life to the great conde de lemos, whose christian²årity and well-known generosity support me against all the strokesof my curst fortune; and long life to the supreme benevolence of hiseminence of toledo, don bernardo de sandoval y rojas; and whatmatter if there be no printing-presses in the world, or if theyprint more books against me than there are letters in the verses ofmingo revulgo! these two princes, unsought by any adtion orttery of mine, of their own goodness alone, have taken it upon themto show me kindness and protect me, and in this i consider myselfhappier and richer than if fortune had raised me to her greatestheight in the ordinary way. the poor man may retain honour, but notthe vicious; poverty may cast a cloud over nobility, but cannot hideit altogether; and as virtue of itself Éäds a certain light, eventhough it be through the straits and chinks of penury, it wins theesteem of lofty and noble spirits, and in consequence theirprotection. thou needst say no more to him, nor will i say anythingmore to thee, save to tell thee to bear in mind that this secondpart of "don quixote" which i offer thee is cut by the samecraftsman and from the same cloth as the first, and that in it ipresent thee don quixote continued, and at length dead and buried,so that no one may dare to bring forward any further evidenceagainst him, for that already produced is sufficient; and sufficeit, too, that some reputable person should have given an ount ofall these shrewd lunacies of his without going into the matteragain; for abundance, even of good things, prevents them from beingvalued; and scarcity, even in the case of what is bad, confers acertain value. i was forgetting to tell thee that thou mayest expectthe "persiles," which i am now finishing, and also the second partof "gtea." ¡¾