Adventures of Don Quixote de la Mancha

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ADVENTURES

DON QUIXOTE

§t la ptanc^H.

TBÁKSUtED noM fSE IFAMUH OF

MIGUEL DE CERVANTES 8AATEDEA.

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ADVENTURES

or

DON QFIXOTE

§t la Pancha.

HIOTIEL HE CEBTA1ITE8 BAATEDSA.

CHAKLES JABTI6.

^ Stb) eiú&m, lUiuliEltb bg li^ SiUrut.

LONDON;
G. B.OUTLEDGE ft CO. PARRINGDON STREET;

HBW TOREt 18, BBXKHAN BTBBXT.

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cnJí

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AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

LomiQ reader, thoa wilt believe me, I tmat, iñthont ui
OAth, when I tell thee it was my earnest deeire that this off-
^>ring of my bisin should be as beaatilii], iugetiions, and
^lightly as it is possible to imagine ; but, slaa ! I have not
beeo able to control that order in natnre's works whereby all
things produce their like ; and, therefore, what oould be ex-
pected from a mind sterile and tmcnltivated like mine, but a
diy, meagre, fiuitaatical thin^ fall of etrauge conceits, and
that might well be engendered in a prison — the dreadiii]
abode of care, where nothing is heard bnt eounds q£
wretcbedneea } Leisure, Em agreeable residence, pleasant
fields serene akiea, mormuring streams, and tranquillity of
mind— by these the moat barren muae may become fruitful,
and produce that which will delight and astouiah the
world.

Some parents are so hoodwinked by their excesáre fond-
ness, that they see not the imperfections of their children,
and mistake their folly and impertinence fur eprightliaeiM
and wit ; but I, who, though seemingly the parent, am in
tmth only the «tep-bther of Don Quixote, will not yield to
thia prevailing infirmity ; nor will I— as othera would do —
beseech thee, kind reader, aloioet with tears in my eyes, to
pacdou or cuncital the faults thou mayest discover in tliia
brat of mine. Besides thou art neither its kinsman nor
fiñead ; thou art in possession of thine own soul, and of a

A.OOgIC

IT author's PUEPACE.

wiiil as free and absolute as the best ; and art, moreover, in
thine own bouse, Iwing as much tbe lord and master of it
as is tbe monarch of his revenue ; knowing also the common
saying — "TTnder my cloak, & &g for & king;" wherefore, I
say, thou art absolved and liberated from every restraint or
obligation, and majest freely avow thy opinion on my per-
formance, without fear or reproach for the evil, or hope of
reward for the good, thou shalt say of it. Fun, indeed,
would I have given it to thee naked as it vas born, witlunit
the decoration of ». prefaoe, or that numerous train of son-
neta, e^Mgrams, and other ealt^ea, now commonly placed at
the beginning of every book ; for I confess that, althon^
mine cost me some labour in composing, I found no part of
it BO difficult M this same Preface which thou art now
reading ; yes, many a time have I taken up my pen, and as
often laid it down again — not knowing what to writer

Happening one day, when in this perplexity, to be «tting
wich the paper before me, pen behind my ear, my elbow on
tbe table, and my cheek resting on my hand, deeply pon-
dering on what I should say, a lively and intelligent friend
unexpectedly entered } and seeing me in that poetnre, be
inquired what made me so thoughtfuL I told him I vas
musing on a pre&ce for Don Quixote, and frankly confessed
I had been so teased and harassed by it tliat I feit diqiosed
to g^ve up the attempt, and trouble myself no further either
• with the prefaoe or the book, but rather leave the achieve-
ments of that noble knight unpublished. " For shall I not
be confounded," súd I, " with the taunts of that old law-
maker, the Vulgar, when, after so long a silence, I now,
forsooth, come out, at this time of day, with a legend as dry
as a rush, destitute of invention, in a wretched style, poor
in conception, void of learning, and without either quota*
tiona in the margin, or annolations at the end : white all

A.oagic

ACTHOS'S PREFACe. V

other books, whether fabulous or proline, ore so stuñed with
BeDtenoea from Aristotle, Plato, and the whole triba of
philosophers, that the world ¡a amazed at tho extensive
reading, deep learning, and extraordinary eloquence of their
authors 1 Truly, when these wiseacres quote the Holy
Scriptarea, yoa would take them for so many St. Thomases,
or doctors of the church 1 And so observaut are they of
the roles of decorom, that in one line they will cite yoa the
ravings of a lover, and in the next some pious homily — to
the delight of every reader. In all these matters my book
will be wholly deficient ; for. Heaven knows, I have nothing
either to quote or make notes npon ; noF do I know what
authors I have followed, and therefore cannot display their
names, as usoal, in alphabetical succes^on, beginning with
Aristotle, and ending with Xenophoo, or Zoilus or Zeuxis
— ^the one a painter, the other a slanderous critic It will
also be ungraced by commendatory sonnets from the pens of
dakes, marquises, earls, bishops, ladies of qnajity, or other
iUustrtous poets : though, were I to request them of two or
tht<ee humbler friends, I know they would supply me with
such as many of higher name amongst us could not equal
In short, my dear friend," continued I, " it is plain that
Signor Don Quixote must lie buried amongst the musty
records of 1a Mancha, till Heaven shall send some abler
hand to fit him out in a manner suitable to his high desertsj
since I find it impossible to perform that duty myself not
only from a want of competent talents, but because I am
naturally too lazy in hunting after authors to enable me to
say what I can aay as well without them. These are the
considerations that made me so thoughtful when yoQ
entered; and yon must allow that it was not without
soffident canse."

On bearing this tale of distress, my friend struck bis
A.OOgIC

n AUTHOR S PBXFACB.

forehead with the palm of hia hand, and, bursting into a
loud laugh, said, " I now see I have been in error ever ainoe
I hare known you ; I always took you for a discreet and
sensible man, but now it appears you are as &r from being
BO as heaven is from earth. What! is it possible that a
thing of such little moment should have power to embaniiss
and eonfouad a genius like youra, formed to overcome and
trample under foot the greatest obstacles 1 — By my &itb,
this is not incapacity, but sheer idleness ; and if you would
be convinced that what I say is true, attend to me, and in
the twinkling of an eye you shaU see me put those difficul-
ties to the rout which you say prevent your introducing to
the world the histoTj of the renowned Don Quixote, the
light and mirror of all knight-errantry."

" Say on," replied I, " and tell me how you propose to fill
up the vacuum which my fear has created, or how brighten
up the gloom that surrounds me." " Nothing so easy," súd
he; "your first difficulty, respecting the want of sonnets,
epigram^ or panegyrics by high and titled authors, may at
once be removed ñmply by taking the trouble to compose
them yourself, and then baptizing them by whatever name
you please : fathering them upon Préster John of the Indies,
or the Emperor Trapisonda, who, to my certain knowledge,
were famous poets ; but suppose they were not so, and that
sundry pedanta and praters, doubting that fiict, should
slander you — heed them not : for should they even convict
yon of fUsehood, they cannot deprive you of the hand that
wrote it.

" Now, as to your marginal citations oí those authors and
books whence you collected the various sentences and say-
ings interspersed through your history, it is but scattering
here and there over yonr pages some scrajia of Latin,
which you know by heart, or that will cost you but little
A.OOgIC

AVTBOk'S nxiACB. TU

troable to find : — for example^ when treaüng of liberty or

and fhen <m the mu^in yoa clap me down the name of
Horace, or whoever B^d it If yonr subject be the power
of death, then opportunely come^

' Pallida mon, »qqo point poda pmpanua tibatsM

If fnen<]8hip, or loving onr enemies, aa God enjoin^ forth-
with you look into the Holy Scriptures, and without any
very curious search yon will be able to take the identical
words of the eacred text :

' EgD Hitaii dk» Tebii, diHgUa briniloM TMtroa.'
1i yon should be speaking of evil thoughto, recollect the
EvangelÍBt ;

' I>« cords axennt oogttattones main.'
On the inconstancy of ñiends, Cato will give you this

By the aamstance of these^ or auch-like driblets of learning,
you will at least gain the credit of being a scholar — a oha-
ncter which in theee timea leads to both honoor and

" A» for annotations at the end of your book, yon may
safely manage it in thia manner : if you should have occa-
sioD to speak of a giant, let it be Qoliah, for there you
will have, at a small expense, a noble annotation, which
will run thus : — ■ The giant Oolias, or Goliah, was a Fhilia-
tine whom the shepherd David dew in the valley ot Terebin-
thuB, by means of a great stone which he cast from a sling

A.OOgIC

vm AUTHOR 8 PSUACB.

— u recorded in the Book of Einga, where you will find
both chapter and verae. And, in order to prove yonnell
skilled in literature and cosmography, take an opportnnity
to mentioa the river Tagus, on which an admirable note will
present itself to this effect : — ' The river Tagus wis so
named by a king of Spain ; ita source ia in such a place ;
after kijimng the walla of the celebrated city of Lisbon, it is
ewalloved np in the ooean. Its sands are reported to be of
gold' — and so on. If you would treat of robbers, I will
fomish yon with the history of Oscos, for I have it at my
fingers' ends ; and if of oonrteaans, there is the Bishop of
Mondonedo, who will accommodate you with a lAmia, a
Idis, and a Flora, which annotation cannot Cut to do yon in-
finite credit. If you have to speak of cruel females, Ovid will
supply you with Medea ; if enchanters and witches be your
them^ Homer has a Calypso, and Yirgil a Ciice ; if valiant
commanders, Julius Ciesar and his Commentaries are at your
service, and Plutarch will give you a thousand Alexanders.
If love should chance to engage your pen, with the two
ounces which you possess of the Tuscan tongue, you may
apply to Leon Hebreo, who will provide you abnudant^ ;
or in case you dislike to visit foreign parts, you have here, at
bome^ FonsecSi, on 'the Love of God,' which contains all
that yon, or tbo most inquisitive, can possibly desire on that
subject In shtfft, do you only contrive to introduce these
names or allusion^ and leave both quotations and annota-
tions to me ; for I will engage to fill np your margina, and
add four whole sheets to the end of your book,

" We now come to the list of quoted authors — another ^f
your grieranoes, which also admits of an easy r«medy ; ft»-
joo have only to look out for some book containing such an
nlphabetioal list, from A down to Z, and transfer it bodily
10 your own ; and should the aitafioe be iq^tarent from the
A.OOgIC

AÜTHOK S FBHÁCS. IX

Hule need yoa bad of their lielp, it matters cot ; some pei^
hap4 may be silly enough to beliere that in your plain and
simple tale you really had made nse of every «me of them ;
~-«t all eventu, such a display of kamed names will give
yoor }k>A an air of importanoe at the first sight, and
Dobody will take the tronble to examine irhether yon have
followed them or not, áooe nothing wonld be güned by the
labour,

" Tet after all, sir," continued my friend, " if I am not
greatly mistaken^ none of these things are necessary to your
book, whioh is a satire on the extravagant tales of ohtvaliy ;
a subject never considered by Aristotle, overlooked by
St. Basil, and utterly vnknown to Cicera The minnte
Bocoiacies of tnie histoiy, the calculations of astrology, the
measDTements of geometry, and subtleties of logi*^ having
nothing to do with it ; neither does it interfere with eoole-
siaetical concerns, mingling divine and hnman things — from
which every good Christian shonld abstain : — to Katnre only
do yoa refer ; she is yonr sole guide and example, and the
more dosely yon attend to her suggestions, the more perfect
miiat be your book. Books of chivalry are your game,
and yonr ohid* purpose is to destroy their credit with the
world ; yon therefore need not go begging for sentences
from philosophers, precepts teoia holy writ, fables from
poets, harangues from orators, nor miracles from saints,
bnt amply endeavour to express yonr meaning in a clear
and inteltigible manner ; and in well-chosen, significant, and
deooroua terms, give a narmomons and pleasing tnm to
yonr periods ; bo that the perasal of yonr histoiy may dispel
the gloom of the melancholy, add to the cheerfnlness of the
gay, and, while it aflbrds amosenfent even to the umple, it
shall be approved by the grave, the judicious, and the wise.
In fine, the down&l and demolition of that mischievous pile
A.OOgIC

of abstirdily which, though despised by some, is admired by
the many ; and, if succesBÜil, believe me, yoa will have per-
fonned a service of no mean importanee."

I listened to my friend's discourse in profound úlence, and
so strongly was I impressed by his observations, that 1
acknowledged their troth, and immediately converted them to
my use, in composing this Preface ; wherein, gentle Reader,
thou wilt perceive the judgment of my fnend, my own good
fortune in meeting with bo able n counsellor in the crisis of
my distress, and at the same time thou wilt confesa thy own
eatiafiíeüon in thus receiving, in so simple and artless a
manner, the Histoiy of the famous Don Quixote de la
Mancha, who, in the opinion of all the inhabitants of the
Campo de Montíel, was the chastest lover and most valiant
knight that had appeared in those parta for many years. I
will not enlarge on the benefit I confer in presenting to thee
BO distinguished and honourable a personage ; hut I do
expect some acknowledgment for having introduced to thy
acquaintance his faithful attendant, the famous Bancho
Panza, in whom are combined all the squirely endowments
that are to be found scattered over the pages of knight-
errantry, ¿nd now, may Qod give thee health 1 — not for-
getting me. Farewell

— ríAlíS»«*S.*!>T-

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CONTENTS.

BOOK I.
Ceaf. 1— WUch trMla of tha quality and manner of Hfe of tmr

reuowEad hero . , Pagi 1

COAF. 2. — Which treats of the first uUy that Den Qoliote made fivm

bie oaljvo Tillage . . . . . . . . i

CbaF. 3. — Id which is related the pleasant matliod Don Quiiota took

to be dubbed Knight . . . . 8

Chaí. i. — Of what befsl oar kiusht after he had sallied from the

inn 12

Cbap. C. — WhsreiD Is eontinned the Damtion of our knot's mii'

fortune , . . . . . . . , . IS

Cb*p. a.— Of the grand and diTertinE- aeretínj made by the priest and

the barber, in tJie library of our tngvnioui gentlemm IS
Ch&F. 1. — Of the lacODd nlly of oar good knight Don Qiiiiote da la

Hanoha , . 2S

Ch^P. 8.— Of the valorous Don Quixote's SDCoess in (he dreadful and

nerer-belore-imagiued adtentun of the windmills ;

with other events worthy to be raewded . . . . 2S

Chap. 9- — Wherein Is eoneluded the stupendoos battle between Uie

gallant Bisaayao and the roliant Mnnche<:fnn . . 1

CHif . 10. — Of the pleasant discouna whioh Don Quixote had wit^ his

good squire Sancho Pama . . . . I

Cbip. 1 1 .—Of what befel Don Quixote with the goatherds . . i

Chap. 12. — What a certida goMberd related to Üiose who were wJUi

Don QulioM . . .. :

Cbap. 13. — The ooDcliision of the story of the shepherdess Marcela,

with other ineideata .. •

Chap. 14. — Wherein ara rahewsed the despdrlng versos of ths de-

oeued ahephard, wltli other oneipectad erenU , . I

BOOK IIL
Chap. 15.— Wherdn Is related the anfortunate advcDtare which beb)
Don Qiriiota, tn meeting with oertaln unmerdfiil

Chap. 16.~-0f what happened to Don Quixota to the inn which he
bnaffined to be a easde . . I

CbaP. 17. — Whenm are onntjnued the innumerable disaiitera that befel
the brani Don Quixote and his (rood squire Boncho
I^Ea In the inn whioh he untiappilj took for a castle i

CbaP. 18. — The discourse whioh Sancho Pansa held with bis master
DonQuiiotOi wiUk other adventures w<»th lalstiug ..

A.OOgK

Coip. IS.— Of the BBge diKooTM tbat paved betwMo Sancho and hii
mtuler, and the succeeding adrenture of the dead body ;
■with other &iDons uccarroDCei . . Pi¡S> 79

Chap. 20. — Of the unparalleled adTenlnre acbiersd by the renonaed
Dan QuiioEe, with lesa h^»rd than anj was ever
achieved by the most foraoua knight hi the world . . 84

Chap. 21. — Which treats of the gnad advsDturs and rich priis of
Mambrino'a helmet, with other things which befel our
invincible knight ..91

Chap. 22. — How Don QuixoW set at hberty sevenii anfortunate per-
■ODÉ, who, much agaJnst theirwiU, were being CDnveyed
where they had no wlifa to g» . . . . 98

Chap. 23.— Of what befel the renowned Don Quiiote in ths Siena
Uorena, being one of the most unoommon adventures
related in this faithhil history . . . . . . 105

Chap. St.— AcontinnatioDDftheadventUTeiatheBiensHonma .. Hj

CeaP. 25.— Which treats ol the strange thmgs that befol the valiant
knight of 1a Mnncha in the SlerTs Uorena ; and how
ho imitated the peoance of Beltonebroa .. 117

CbaP. 23. — A oonttoaation of the refinements praotised by Don

Qoixotc^ u a loTor, in the Sierra Morena . . 137

Chap. 27. — How the priest and the barber put thwr dengn in eiscu-
tkiD, with other matters worthy to ba remted in this
hiatory 133

BOOK IT,

Chap. 28.— WUchtmataofthenewandagTeeableadrantoreUiatbefél
the priest end the barber in the Sierra Morena

Chap. 29. — Which treats of the beautiñil Dorothea's discretion ; WJ
other ver; ing«niotu ojid entertaining particulars

Chap. 30.— Which tieaLi of the pleasant and ingeaiong method pur-
■oed to withdraw our enamoured loiight from (he rigo-
rous penance which he had imposed on himself . . 1

Chap. 31. — Of ths relishing oonTersatioD which passed between Don
Quixote and his squire Sancho Pania, with otlier
mddenta . . . . . . . . . . ll

Cbaf. 32. — Which treat* ol what befd Don Quixote and his company
at the inn . , 1<

Chaf. 33.— 1q wtiich is redted the novel of " The Curious Impv-

CuAF. M. — In which is coatínoed " The Novel of the Curious Imper-

Chap. SS.— The dreiadfiil battle which Don Quixote fousht with the
winebags, and the conclusion of "The Novel of the
Curious Imperünont"

Chap. SS.— Which treats ol other uncommon incidents that hap-

ChaP. 87. — Wher«in is oontinaed the history oí the fiunoua Intnta

Uioomioona, vrith other ploasnnt adventures
Chap. 38. — The omtinuaCion of Di>n Quixote's oorions oration upon

arms and lettsra . . zu^

Chaf. 39. — Wh«^n the captive nlates his life and adventures .. 2Mi
CbaP. 10.— In which is continued the history ol the onptjve . . 210

Chap. 41.~Wbennn the captive continues h'is story . . 2IS

Chap. 42.- Which treats of other oocuirencas at the hin ; and of

vuious things worthy to be known . . . . 22C

COSTEMTB. XIU

Chap. 13.— WIiMitrGataof tbeigraabkhiitoirnf UuToongnula-
tear ; with other Hnnn wxádBBla Úat hapMood at
theinn Pa^ 229

CHAf. 41. — A oootiDiiatica ot tha azbaordinuy adnntuns Úwt h^

pmad n tha inn .. 23fi

Chap. 16. — In whidi tfas dtqmU maoenuBe U unbTino'i haboat and
tha panel ii daiddad ; wiih olhar adrantnrw that raally
and tnil; hainwned . . 240

Ch&p. 16.— In «Uch ia finlihed tha luMabla adxtDtora ot Ota bol;
tKoUisduod ; with an aoconnt of the tbrocit; of our
good knight Don Quiuta . . 341

Chaf. 17. — Of tha itraiiga and wondarfii] maoiur in wUdi Don

reniKrkabla «ourraDoaa "" .. T! ..216

CBAf . 18. — In wtaioh tha caooo aautínuea fail fsaonrae on haoki of

chivalry, with othv aukjeeita worthy ffiT hia gonial . . 261
Chat. IV.— Ofthahigcolaaaooii&nioabatweaBSBiiDhsPBimBiidhIa

nuuterDon Quixota . . 26S

Chap. CO. — Of the Ingnioai oontast betwaan Don Quiote and the

oaaon, with olhar tnaidaiti . . . . . . 262

Chap. tn.—Thsgcntberd'anairetíve ..366

CfiAf. C2.— Of tha qoatrel betwam Don Qolzota and ths goathaid ;

wiüi the Til» adnDtnra of tha dlsolplinanli, irtiioh

he hai^lr aoounpUdiad with th« twaat of hii

SECOND PART.

BOOK L
Ptebea to Fart n. .. .. ..377

Chap. 1. — Of what paned batween the priest, the barter, and Don

Quixote, eoDoaniing hi* indiapoúticHi ..281

Chap. 2. — Whuh treati of Oie notable qoairel between SanehoFania
sad Don Quiiote'a nleoe and hoaaskMfier, with other
plaaaant occDrreaoM 287

Chap. S.— Of the pleasant oonTeraation whioh paned between Don
Quixote, Saooho Fama, and the baahetor Bempaoa
Carraaoo .. SM

CBap. l.^WharaIa Sanoho Fann answan the baohelor Bampaon
CatTOSCo'a doobte and qusatioiu ; with other inddenia
wonhj of being known and redtod . . 29S

Chap, (..-^ftbe discreet and pleeaaDt oonvemiüan whidhpaaaed

between Sancho Panzn and bis wile Tareaa . . . . 2Q8

Chap. 0. — Of wh^ passed lieCween Don Quixote, hie niece, and house-
keeper; which ii one of the moat imporbuvt ch^ítera in
the whole history . . . . 302

Chap. 7. — Of what pasaad between Don Quixote and hi* aqnlre) with

other remaikabie oooarranoea . . . . 805

Chap. 8. — Wherein is r^ted what bebl Don Qdxote aa be was going

to visit hta lady Dalcinea dal Toboao . , . . 310

Chap. 0.— Which relate* whet will be tbundthwdn .. Sll

Chap. 10. — Wherein is related the aunuing used by Bancho, in
enchanting the lady Duldnea ; wiUi of nor ereala no
Isaa hldicrou* than true . . • . 316

A.OOgK

Cháf. 11. — Of Uie itnnge adttaUm «hioh bafsl tha nlortraa Don
Úoiiote, with ths oart^ or vun, of the Cortea of
Da&th .. PageSa

Cbát. 12. — Of the stnoige adventnre which befbl the valonnu Dod

Qnisots with tha bnve ka%ht af Uta Mliron . . 8S5

Cbaf. 13. — WhendD li oontínaed the kdveDtiire of the knif^t of tha
Wood, with Uw wiae and pleuant dialogue betweoi the
two iqidiaa . . 329

Chat. U.— In which ia sontÍDaed tha adnoton ot the knight of tha

Wood 332

Chap. 15.— Orring an aoooimt ot the knight of the Hiiron and hii

aqmra ,. .. 339

Chap. 16.— Of what befe) Don Qnixota wil^ a warily nntleman of

l«Maucha 340

Cbap. 17.— Wherdn k let brth tho aibmna and hishait point at
which the nnhsard-of ooarage of Don QoUote erer did
or ever could bitítb ; with the happy * ' ' ■*- -
adraoture of the lloiia

BOOK 11.

OOAP, 18.— Of what bafal Don Qdiots In the caitle, or bonaa, of the
knight of ttie Qnan Rldingnioat ; with other eitnor-
dinary matten . . X

Chap. 19.— Wherein lirelatadthaadTsatareaofthe cnamauredihep-

herd, with other tnily pleaaing inddenla . . 3!

Ceat. 20. — Qiring an aooouot of the nuuriage of Cunacho the Koh,

and alio the advacture of Bawliui Uie Poor . . St

Chap. 21. — In which ie oantinued the history of Camacho'i w«dding,

with other delightful incidants .. .. ..36

COAP. 22. — Wherein la relate the grand adrentora of llie oave of
Mantninoi, lituatadinthsheartofldHBiicha, which
the caluroue DoQ <^uiiote hnppUT aocomplisbed . . Si

CbaP. 23. — Of the wonderful things which the aooomplished Don
Quixote de la Mancha declared he had eeen in the
oave of Uontcsinoa, from tha eitraordioory nature of
which, this adTenture is held to be apocryphal . . B^

Chap. U. — In which are recounted a tboouind triúing mattera,
equAlly perÜnent and neoeeiary to the right under.
■tandjng of tbia grand falMory . . Sf

CSAP. 2S. — Wbei ein ia b^;<in the bisying idTMiture, and the divert-
ing one of the puppet-ahow, with the memorable diri-
nationa of the wonderful npe 3Í

Chap. 20. — Wherein is oontinued the pleesant adienture of tba pup-
pet-player, with lundiy other matten, all, in tmth,
tuffieiently g>ood . . . , 3!

Chap. ST.- Wherein ¡a related who Hai wem ;

with Don Quiiate'a Ql-au idren-

tnre, which termlnalad d nor

intended . . . . 3!

ChaF, 29.— Concerning thinga which. Be ladi of

them wiQ know, il he roai . . il

Chap. 30.— Of the famoua adventure of tl .. II

L'haP. 31.— OfwhatbefelDonQuiiD^ew .. 4(

CtiAF. 32. — Which treeta of manTand great thinga .. .. 41

CHAP. 83.— Of the answer Don Qujiota gaya to hia reprorer ; wHh

other grare and pleasing evaila , . . . 41

BOOK IIL
Chap. 9i.-0ta¡» naiahkie; oonranaliini «hklL pumai bstweaiUw
dnebam, har ilinwdi, and Sanoho Faiua ;— noTtb; ta
__ be nadaod noted .. Pagt i¿

Cbat. SS.— Oiving an aaooaot of tlie method pnaoiibad for d
"'""""p tba peerlen Dnloiim del Toboao : vhii
line oí (he most Cunoia adveutom in tbia book

Chap. tA. — Wharela la aontiaiied tlis mmaimt of (ha method pro-

isribed to Don Quixote br disonohaiidng Jüulcinn ;

with oUurwondarfUl areote . . 41

Chap. 37.— Wherein is raoocdad tha «trange and inconoeiTable adno-

tnra of tíie UI-DMd duenna, or the ooontaa of Triialdi ;

and likawiie Sanahe Panaa'a letter to hia ifiib To^eaa

(&AP. 33.— InwhichiioaDtmaedUwfiuDODaadTentaraofÜíaaffllctad

duenna . . . . 4'

CSAP. 89. — Which ooDtalaa the aoooimt given b; the afflicted duenna

of ber midbrtiinM . . 4i

CBap. 40. — Wherein the doenna Tii&ldi continnea her iti^wndoui

ud memonbla history . . 1<

Chap. 41. — Which treala of mattera rehildng uid appartaining to

Uiia arlventure, and to Uiii memorable hiator? . . 4!

CSAf. 42.— OfthoarrlTalofClavilena, withtheoaDoluaraofthiipro-

Ui adventure . . . . 41

Chap. 43.— Contaiuiog the instmotiolii which Don Quixote save to

Sancho Pama baTore ha *ent U> hia gorenuneot ; with

other «elt-considoTad matten . , . . 41

Chap. M.— Of (be aeoond aariaa of initruoUoDB Don Quixote gave to

Sancho Pama . . 41

Chap. 4fi. — HoirSanaliD Puna wasoondooted to bb government, and

of the Btrange adrennm which belal Don Quixote in

the castle . . 1<

Chap. 40. — How IhagreotSanoho Puna tool jwaao^onofhialdand,

and of Uie mumer of hia boginnuia: to goTEfn it .. 4!
C&AP. 47.— ^)f the dreadful boll-ringing, a'"^ f^*-"^ nnnat^w^^^if-r^ intt.

oí Banoho'a behavSour in his

StjvernnieDi 4Í

Chap. W.— Of what befel Don Qniiata with Donna Kodrignai, the
duchees'g dueniia ; together with other incidents wráthy

rritteauid held in eternal remembrance
Irafal Sanch

Chap. GO. — Of what bafal Sancho Pan» in going the round of his

wlaod i'.

Chap. 61 .^Which declares wbo were the enahanters and ei

that»!' ■ ■■ ■

Don Í,

carried Sancbo'a letter i£
grtss of Sancho
ning mattera

led the a

le wiled Douna Bodriguai

UignieUb, Google

BOOK IV.

ChaF. 61.~-Of the taUsams and >ad omchniou of 3uiclii) PMiift'i

goTCRimaiit . . Pag* 614

CluP. SS. — Wmah. tteaU of matton relaUog to tin* pwUonUr hlMoiy

■ad to no other . . . . . . SIT

C'HAF. 6&— Of whmt bebí Suoho ob hii waj ; «nd other milten

which mil be known vhcD rwd . . S2S

Chaf. ST.— Of tho predJgioiB end onpenileled battle batwem T>db

Quixote de k Ifanaho and the laoquey Tosilae, in
aefbnoe of the doauiB Dcmn» Kodriffuei^ dsu^htor
Cbap. SB— VhiohralatosbowDonQuixotetooktalileeveofthedDke,

end of whet betel bini with the witty and w.

ndora, one of the doeheM'e damtela
CBAf. BS.— Sbowiiv how adrmtura crowded so bit upon ]

QniiMe, that they trod apoe each othoT^ heeb
CSAP. 80. — Whereiii is relatod an extrawdinary aocident which befiil

Don Quilate, and yñááa. may pew for «a adTeDture
CSAp. SI.— Of what befel Don Quixote on his way to Bareeloca
Ctup. ^-^whatbaM Don Quixote at biacDCranca hito Baroaboa,

with other erenta more tme than ingeniona ..
Chat. 6S.— VbiohtrsalaoftlieadTentareof theeDohantedhead.witii

othsr trifling matten that moat Dot be omittad
)f Sancho Paiua'i mieT'^ » .. a .. . .>i.

the exttaordlnaij a¿
"-■tins of the adraoM

TsXBtdon than any which had hithaito bsbllen him .
Cb4P. SS.— In whichanaooauntlagrimnwhaUMkniditof tha White

CbaP. S5.—TtmÜi« of die adrantBrs which ga*e Don Quixote

— ^Btdoa than any which had lit'^^'^-'

JianaooauntlagrimnwhoUM _— . —

n wax ; and of the deliTeranoe at Don Ongoria

withothor .. _

CUAF. ST. — TreaUuff of matten which he who readi wilt tee, and he

who uttens to them, when read, will bear . . E'

Cbap. 68.— Of the TflKiluüon which Don Qidiote took to turn ahep-

"- ' - " ■ - -■ il life, till the pnmiked term
a other InddenU truly dirert-
.7 ..8

., . IiiiA befal Don Qnixota .. £i

Cbap. TO.— Of tbe Dew«t and stnuigait adrentora of all that balel

Don Quixote In the whole eoutae of tbia eieat hiatoiy. . SI
Chap. T1.— Which trenU of matten indiapenaable to Uie panpicoity

ofthishiatary ..
CbaF. T3.— Of whatbefelDon Qdzots and his squir* Sancho

way to their lill^
Cbat. TS. — How Don Quixote and Bancho errlTed at thrir tÍH»
Cbaf. 71.— Of tbe omeiie which Don Quixote mot with at the ea

into hia villa^ ; aith other matlara whioh odotn and

illmtnta this great hiitory
Cbat. TB.— How Don Qi^xote fill rick, nude his will.

UignieUb, Google

ADVENTURES OP DON QUIXOTE.

CHAPTER L
WUck tnatt <^ í*í fality a*d maniur tf lift of <mr nHemttd Jmj.

Bows inavOlege of LiiMuio)u,'the nuae of which I have maátsn
to recollect, tba« Ibed, tot long ago^ one of thow gentlcraen who
nsnJallr keep a lanoe upon a nek, an old buckler, a k^ horse, and a
oonrsing srejhouiid. soup, composed of somewhÁt more mnttou than
heef, the ^ngmenUKTreJ up cold on moat nighty letitili on Fridays,
pains and breakings on Saturdays, and a pigeon, b; wa; of addition,
on SnndaTs, oonsnmed three-fonrtha of hia income ; the remainder of
it supplies him with a cloak of fine cloth, velvet breechea, with slippew
o( the same for holidays, and a suit of the best home-spun, in which
he adomrd himself on week-days. His family consist^ of a house-
keeper abore forty, *• iiiece not quite twenty, and a lad who serred
him both in the field and at liome, wlio cooid saddle the bone or
handle the nnming-book. the age of oar gentleman bordered upon
fifty yean ; he was of a abrouff constitution, i)nr»todied, of a meagre
visage, a very eariynaer, and a lover of Uwdiaae. Some prateurto
say that bis sámame waa Quiuda, <x Qnesada, for on this point his
historians differ; thongh, irom very probable eomectnres, we may
conclude that his name was Qoixana. This ia, howcrer, of little
importance to our history ; let it snffioe that, in reUtdng i^ we do not
■werre a jot from the truth.

3e it known, then, that the ifore-mentionBd gentleman, in his
leinve Tooments, which oompoeed tlie greater iwrt of the fear, gave
hiiBself up with ao much anionc to the perns^ of books oi chivalrr,
that he ahnost wbcdly neglected the exercise of the chase, and eren
the legnlation of his dnneatic afhirs ; indeed, so ertrayaj^t was hia
seal in this pursuit, that he sold many acres of ar^ie land to purchase
hodcs ti kmght-eirantrr; ccJkcting as many as be ocnld possibly
obtain. Amone them aU, none pletñed him so mnch as those wñtt«n
by the &mons Feliciano de Silra, whose briUisnt prose and intricate

* l^arUy Id tike Ungdoni of Amgaii,aDd partly in Castüo.

* A.OOgK

9 DOS Quixon.

reMon, that «itii renson I complain of ^onr beautf." Andagwt:
"The high heavens that» with your divimtv, divine! j fortify jou with
the Btats, rendering yon meritorious of toe merit merited by yonr
greatness." These and similar rhapsodiea di^racted the poor gentle-
man, for he laboured to comprehend and unraTel their meaninj;, whidl
was more than Aristotle himself oould do, were he to rise niim the
dead expressly for that j>urpose. He was not quite satisfied as t« the

face and vhole body must have been covered with seama and si
Nevertheless, he commended his authnr for cancludbg his book wilji
the promise of that interminable adventure; and he often felt an
inclination to seixe the pen himself and conclude it, literallj es it is
there promised: this he woold donbtless have done, and with success,
bad lie not been diverted from it by meditations of greater moment,
on which his mind wu incesaaotly employed.

He often debated with the curate of the village, a man of learning,
and a graduate of Siguenza, which of the two was the best knight,
Palmerin of England, or Amadis deGaul; bat Master Nicholas, barber
of the sam^^lace, declared tbat none ever came up to the knight of
the sun: if, mdeed, any one oould be compared to him, it was Doa
Galaor, brother of Anúdis de Oaul, for he bad a genius suited to
everythiiw; he was no effeminate knight, no wbimperer, like his bro-
ther ; and m point of courage, be was oj no means his inferior. In
short, be becaine bo infatnated with this kind of stndy, that he passed
whole days and n^hts over these books ; and thus, with little steeping
and much reading, his brains were dried up, and his intellects dcrangea.
Uis imagination was full of all tliat he had read; — of enchantment«,
eontests, batUes, challenges, wounds, courtships, tunours, tortures,
and impossible absurdities: and so firmly was be persuaded of the
troth of the whole tissue of visionary fiction that, in his mind, no bis-
torj ¡Q tiie world «as more authentic. The Cid Ruy Diax, he asserted.
was a very good knight, but not to be compared wili the knight «
the flaming sword, who, with a single baok^otroke, cleft asunder two
fierce and monstrons giants. He was better piensed with Bemudo
del Carpió, because, at Soncesv^es, he slew Roland the endtanted,
by availing himself of the strataRem employed by Hercules npon
AJiteus, whom he squeezed to death within his arms. He spoke very
&vourah1y of the giant Morganti, for, although of tbat moDstrous
brood who are always proud and insolent, he alone was courteous and
well-bred. Above aJl, he admired Rinaldo de Montalvan, particularly
when he saw him sallying forth from his castle to pinndet allhe
encountered; and when, moreover, he seiied upon that image of
Uahooiet which, according to history, was of massive gold. But he
woilld have given his hous^eeper, and even his niece mtoUte bargain,
for a fair opportunity of kicking the traitor Galalon.

Infine.lus judgment being completer obscured, he was seiied with
one of the strangest fancies that ever enteredtheheadof any madman:
this was, a belief that it behoved him, as veil for the advancement of
his glory as the service of bis country, to become a knigbt^errant, and
tmversethe world, armed and mounted, in quest of adventures, and
to praclise all that had been performed by Knights-errant, of whom
he had read ; redressing every species of grievance, and exposing him-
self to dangers «bicb, being sunnoimted, might secure to him eternal

HI CHSianxB aa sixm. 8

im. Tbe poor aentleman iuagiiied himielf at least
a of Trehisond, bf tbe vaiour gf his ami ; «ud thus
e agreeable delusions, and borne away by the eitr»-
V he ibund in theoo, ne baateoed to put tía dengoa

The ñrst thiu)): he did was to ooonr op some nistf armoar, wtíth
bad be«D Itis gnÁt-gtaudfatbier's, and had lain many years u^lected
in a cotner. Tbis be cleaned and adjnstcd as well as he could, oat he
found one gt^id defect ; the helmet vas incomplete, havioK only the
BKuioQ: this deficteocf, howerer, he mgenionsly snppUed, by makuig
a kind of riior of pealéboard, whieb, being fixed to the moñón, gave
tbe appearance of an entire helmet. It is true indeed tbot, in order
to pro?e its strengtiL he drer his svord. oiul gave it two strokes, tbe
inrt of which instauttr demolished the labour of a week ; bnt not alto-
gether approving of the fadlity with which it was destroyed, and in
order to seonre himself against a similar misfortune, he made another
visor, wbieh, having fenced in the inside with small bars of iron, he
felt assnred of its strength, and, without making any more experi-
ments, held it to be a most excellent belmet.

In the next place he visited bis steed ; and althongb tba animal had
more blemishes than the horse of Gonela, whicb "tantiun pellis tt
Msa fuit,''ye^ in his t^e^ neither the Bocephalus of Alexander, nor
the Cid's Babieca, conld be compared with bim. Four davs was he
deliberating npon what name he should give bim; for, as be Baid to
himself, it would be very im^xoper that a horse so exc^ent, apper-
taining to a knight so famona, shonld be without an appropnate name j
be tb^fore endesvonred to find one that should express what he baa
beoi before be belonged (o a knigbt-errant, and also what he now
was : nothing could, indeed, be more reasonable than that, when the
master changed his state, tl¿ horse should likewise change hie name,
and aasome one, pompous and high-eounding. as heciune the new
Older be now professed. 60 after having devised, altered, lengthened,
curtailed, rejected, ani} again framed in his imaginatúm a variety; of
names, he finally determined upon Hodnante,* a name, in his opinion,
lofty, lonorons, and full of meaning; importnig that he had been only
a fvm, a drudge-bone, b^ore his present condition, and that now he
was liejort all tne roziiu in the wond.

Having given bis horse a name so much to his satisfootion, he
resolved to fix upon oue for himself This consideration employed him
tight more da; s, wben at Icnglb he determined to call himself Don
Quixote ; whence some of íúe historianB of this most true history
lüve concluded that his name was certainly Qnixada, and not Qucsoda,
as others would have it. Then rcrollectiiw that the valorous Amadis,
not oantent with tbe sinrple appellation of Amadis, added thereto the
name of his kinsdoin ana nativo country, in order to render it famous,
styhng himself Amadis de Qaol : so he, like a rood krdicht, also added
the tuune of bis province, and called himseu Don Quixote de la
Uanáia; whereby, in his opinion, he fully proclaimed his lineage and
country, nhich, at the same time, he honoured by taking its name.

Uis armour being now furbiabed, his helmet made perfect, bis

* From iionit, a common dradgA-hnne, and <ui(<, bafbre ; u Atexnnder'B
bona vaa ealled Bucophalu^ fnaa his boll-head ; and the kniglit of tbe
laai, Conerio, trum a hunk m the foreh«ad.— >/anú.

'" A.OOgIC

4 SON QinXOTI.

hone and bimaelf providíd with turnes, he found notíúng wutting bnt
ft lady to be in lore vith; for a kniehWrrBJit without the t^der
ptsaioa VIS a tree witfaoot leaTCa uia fmit — abodyvithont a aouL
If," said be, " for m; sins, or rather, thnmgk my sood fortune, I
encounter some giant— an ordinary occurrenee to kñigbts-errant— and
orerthroiT him at the first onset, or cleare him in twrái, or, in short,
TOnqaish him and force him to surrender, most 1 not hare some ladj,
to waom I may send him as a present ? that when he enters into the

Ereseuee of my diarming mistress, he may throw himself upon bis
ne«9 before ber, and in a sobmissiTe, humóle voice, say, ' Madam, in
me you bebdd the giant Caraouliambro, lord of tbe island Malen-
drania, vho, being vanquished in sii^e combat bv the nevar-enouf h~
to-be-praised Bon Qniiote de la Mancha, am by aim commanded to
present myacif before yon to be disposed of according to the will and
plessnreof yourbighnesB.'" How happy was our good knight after
this harangue ! How mnch more so when ho found a mistress I It
ia said that, in a neighbouring village, a good-looking peasant giri
resided, of whom he had formerly been enamoured, although it does
not apnesr that she ever knew or cared about it ; and this was the
lady wnom he chose to nominate mistress of his heart. He then
WMght a name for ber, which, without entirely departing from her
own, should bcline and approach towards that of a princess or great
lady, and detennined upon Dulcinea del Toboao (for she was a native
of tJiat Tillage), a name, he thousht^ harmonions, onoonmioa, and
Etpitasivs— uke all the others which be had adopted.

cHAFi^a n.

WUA Irtali 0/ tiefim lull;, UkU Ifm (iwcU modi fivm kimtHitt

As soon as these arrangements were made, be no ionger deferred
Uie execution of his mvject, which he hastened from a conaideration
of what the world siueñd by his delay: so many were the grievances
he intended to redress, the wrongs to rectify^ error? to amend, abuses
to reform, and debts to disohiuge I Therefore, without oommunico-
tiiw his intentions to ai»body, and wholly unobsored, one morning
beiore day, being one of the most snllry in the month of July, he
armed himself onp-a-pie, mounted Rotioaute, placed the helmet on
his head, braced on his target, took his lance, and, through the
private gale of his back-yard, issued forth into the open plam, in a
transport of jov to think he had met with no obstacles to the oom-
mencenient of liis honourable enterprise. But scarce had he (bond
himaelf onthe plain, when lie was assailed by a recollection so terrible
aa almost to make him abandon the undertaking; for it just then
occurred to him that he was not yet dubbeii a knight ; therefore, in
conformity to the iawsot chivalry, he neither could norou^it to enter
the lists against any of that onier; and, if he had been «otujly
dubbed, lie should, as a now knight, have worn white armoui, with-
out any device on hia ahield, Datil be bad gained one by fbn» of MB».

niese ooMndeiBUma made Mm iiretohito vhetlier to proeeed; but
freviy prerailtiiK over renson, be determined to get himself made a
knight ti;Ü)e first one he should toeet, like m&nj othera, of whom he
hod read. As to vhite annoiir, he resoLred. when he had an oppor-
-tnnit;, to acour his own, bo that it shguld be whitec than ermme.
Having now composed hie mind, be proceeded, lakins whatever road
hia hanepleaBod: for theieiii, he beheved, oonsisted the tme spirit of
«dvcnhire.

Oar new adventurer, tlin> pnrsniiw his waj, conversed within
himself, saying: " Who donbta but that in futnre timps. when the
bna faistorj of m; ianmm achiereinents b brought to light, the sage
vho reeoraed ütaa will, in this maimer, describe ra; first saliy !
' SoarceJ; had tuMj Phabns extended over the fooe of this wide sad
spadoos earth the gt^n filaments of his beautiful hair and acuoelr
had the litUe painted bird9, with their forked toiuniM, hailed, in son
and raelliftooui hannon; tho (qjpraaoh of tbe rosy harbinger of mora,
who leaving tiie soft coach of her jeabns consort, bod just disclosea
herself to mortals tfaroui^h the eates and balconies of the JSlancliegan
hofúm, when the renowned knight, Don Qniinte de )a Mancha,
(putting the skithfol down, mounted Kozinanle, hia famous steed,
proceeded over the ancient memorable plain of Montiel' (which was
indeed the troth). O happy era, happy ago," he continued, "when
aj glorióos deeds shail be revealed to the world 1 deeds worthy of
beinf engraven on brass, sculptured in marble, and reoorded by the
pencil! And thou, 0 sage enchanter, whosoever thou mayeet be,
destined to chronicle tíiis extraordinary history! forgi^t not, 1 oeseech
thee, my ptoA Roranante, the inseparable companion of all m; toils ! "
Then again, as if really enamonrecl, he exclajmed, " O Dulcinea, my
nrinoeas ! sovereign of this captive bftart ! «reatly do yoa wrong me
by a cnie! adherence to your decree, forbidain? me to appear in the
mesoice of yonr beauty ! Deign, O lady, to think on tins enslaved
heart, which for love of you, endures so many pan;» 1 " . i

inthis wihi strain he eontmued, imitating the style of his books as
nearly as be conid, and proceeding slowly on, while the son arose with
mxAi mtense heat that it was enough to dissolve his brmns, if any had
been left. He trarelled almost the whole of that day without encoun-
tcfing anything wortbv of recital, which caused him much vexation,
&r he was impatient ^ an opportunity to prove the valour of hia
powofulann.

Some antbora say bis trst adventnre was that of the straits of
Lapice: others iffirm it to have been that of the windmills! bat,
&01U what I have been able to ascertain of this matter, and have
found written in the annals of La Mancha, the fact is that he travelled
ill that day, and as nizht approached, both he and his hoi«e were
wearied and dying with hunger ; and in this state, as he looked around
him, in hopes of discovering some castle, or shepherd's cot, where he '
mi^t niptwe and find reireahment, he descried, not lar from the road,
an nm, wlqph to him was a star conducting him to the portals, if not
tbe palace of his redemption. He made all the haate be could, and
teaeiied it at night-fall. There chanced to stand at the door two
Toang women, ladies of pleasure (as they are called), on their journey
to Betille, in the oompany of some carriers who rested there that
nifit Now as everything that oni adventurer saw and_ conoaived
«■% by hia imagÍBation, monlded to what he had read, so in his ey«

DOH qniXOTB.

casÜCj with its fnni tun«ta, and pinnacles of
a^u^g an.-,, bUBEiiiEi wilh its drswbrid^e, deep moat, and all the
appurtenances nith wbtch such castlea are usually described. When
be nad adrauced vithin a short distance of it, iie checked Rorinante,
especting some dwarf would mount the battlements, to announce by
sound of tnmipet, lie arrival of a luiight-errant at the caalle; but
finding them tardy, and Rozinante impatient for the stable, ho
approached the inn-door, and tliere saw the two strolling- ;prirls, who to
huD alipeared to be beautiful damsels or lorely davies e^oying tbem-
_.!_._ C.Í.. . .1.. '^of ^g¡r castle.

field, blew the hora which assembles thera together, and instantly Don
Quixote was satisfied, for he imagined it was a dwarf who had gÍTen
the signal of hi» arriTal. With extraordinary satisfactioQ, therefore,
he went up to the bn ; upon «hieli the ladies, being startled at tiie
s^ht of a man armed in that manner, with lance and buckler, were
retreating iota the bouse ; but Don Qnixote, j)erccirins their alarm,
raised his pasteboard viior, thereby partly discovering his meagre,
dusty visage, and with gentle demeanour and placid voice, thus
addressed them ; " Fly not, ladies, nor fear any discourtesy, for it
would be wholly inoonsistent with the order of knighthood, which I
profesa, to ofier insult to any person, mnch less to virions of that
exalted rank which yonr appearance indicates," The girls stared at
him, and were endeavouring to find out his face, which was almost
concealed by the sorry vizor; but hearing themselves called virgins, a
thing so much out of the way of their profession, they could not for-
bear laughing, and to siich a degree, that Don Ouixote wa; displeased,
and said to them : " Modesty well becomes Maaty, and excessive
laughter, proceeding from a slight cause, is folly ; but I say not this
to humble or distress you, for my inrt is no other than to do you ser-
rice." This language, so unintelligible to the ladies, added to the
tmcouth figure of our knigtit, increased their laughter ; consequently
he grew more indignant, and would have proceeded further, but for
ikeeper, a very corpulent, and there-
pqn seeing so ludicrous an object,
o ill'Sortea as were the bridle, lance,
id to join the damsels in demonstra-
prehending some danger from a form
;d to behave with civility, and there-
are seekiuft for a lodging, you will
.■_ ''-*---ui),ever)thingin

, J ' ■'

. thm? will suffice :
'ornaments, warfare my repose." The host thought he called him
Castellano because he took him for a sound Castilian, whereas he
was an AudaJusian, of the coast of St. Lucar, as gr^t a thief
aa Cacus, and not less mischievous than a collegian or a page:
and he replied, " If so, your worship's beds must be hard rocks,
and your aleep continual watching; and that being the case, yon
may dismount with a certainty of finding here sufficient cause for
keeping awake the whole year, much mofe a single nij[ht." So say-
ing, he kid hohi of Don Quixote's stimip, who alighted with much

' ' A.OOgIC

icvxsnmB at thz ran. 7

difiicultr sai pain, for he hod futed the whole of the day. He then
desired the boat to take esiieciiJ care of hia steed, for it was the
finest creatoie that erer fed- the innkeeper examined him. bat
thought him not bo good by half as his master had represeutea him.
HaTing led the horae to tba stable, he returned to ceceiTC the orden
of hia ^est, «hom the damsels, being now reconciled to Ritn, were
disarming; they had taken off the back and breast plates, but
endeavonred in vain to disengafie the gorget, or take off the counter-
feit beaver, which he had fastened vitii green ribbons in such a
manner that they could not be untied, and he would upon no account
allow them tbem to be cnt; therefore he remained all that night
with hit helmet on, the strangest and moat tidicalona figure
inu^nable.

Whiie these light girls, whom he still conceived to bo persons of
quality, and ladies of the castle, were disarming him, be said <« tbeni,
with infinite grace, " Never before was knight so honoured by ladies
ae Don Quixote, after his departure from his native village ! damsels
attended apon nim : princesses took charge oí liis steed ! O Roci-
nante,—for that, ladies, is the name of my horae, and Don Quixote
de la Mancha oiy own; although it was not my intention to liave
discovered myself, until deeda, performed in your service, should liave
proclaim^ me ; hut impelled to make so just an application of tliat
ancient romance of Lanzarutc, to my present situation, I luve thus
prematurely disclosed my uatne : yet the time shall come when your
ladi'ships may command, and I obey ; when the valour of my ami
shall make maaifest the desire I have to serve you." The girls, un-
accustomed to such rhetorical nourishes, made no reply, hut asked
whether he wouldpteaaetoeat anything. "1 shall willingly take soma
food." answered Don Quixote, foe I apprehend it would be of
maeo service to me." That day nappened to oe Friday, and there was
nothing in the house bu^ some iisH, of that kind which in Castile is
caUed ¿hadezo; in Andalnsia, Eacallaoi in some parts. Curadillo;
and in others, Truchuela. They asked if nis worship woiud like some
trudiueU, for they had no other Ssh to offer him. If there be many
troutliius," replied Don Quixote, " they will supply the place of one
trout ; for it is the same to me whether I receive eight single rials or
one ptece-of-cight. Moreover, these troutlinj ' irable, as

veal is better than beef, and kid superior to ^ s it may,

let it come immediately, for the tod and wei innot be

sustained by the body uiilesa the interior be si iments."

Tor the benefit of the cool air, they placed tl i door of

the ion, and the landlord produced some of h d worse-

cooked bacallao, with bread as foul and black i armour :

but it was a spectacle highly risible to see 1 is hands

being engaged in holding his helmet on, and husiuh lud msaver, he
could not feed himself, therefore one of tbe ladies performed this
office for him ; but to ¿rink would have been utterly impossible, had
not the innkeeper bored a reed, and, placing one end into his moutk
at the other poured in the wine ; and all tnia he patiently endured
ntber thou out the lacings of his helmet.

^ tbe mean time there came to the inn a sow -doctor, who, as soon
be arrived, blew his pipe of reeds four or five times, which finally oou-
rinoed Don Quixote that he was now in some famous csatle, where
lie wo* i^aled with music ; that the poor jack was trout, the bread

8 DON Quixon.

of die purest white, the strollmg wenches ladies of distivptini, ttaA

the innkeeper governor of the castle ; conseqaentlj he remwned satÍB-
fied with his enterprise and first sally, thongh it troubled him to
refiect that he waa not jet a knight, feeling peranaded that be coold
not lawfojlf engage in an; adveiSnTe nntil oe bod been invested wwt
the Older ÓF biigh thood.

AsiTATED b; this idea, he abraptlv finished his scant; sapper, called

the innkeeper, and, shutting himself op with him in the staJ>le, ha
fell on his knees before him and said, Never will I arise from this
place, Talorous knight, nntil your courtesy shall vouehaafe to grant a
boon which it is my intention to request : a buon that will redound
to your glory, and to the benefit of all manldnd." The innkeeper,
seeing his gueet at his feet, and hearing such language, stood con-
founded, and stared at him, without knowing what to do or say ; he
entreated him to rise, bat in rain, until he had promised to grant the
boon he requested. " I expected no less, signor, from your great
magnificence," replied Don Quiiote; "know, therefore, tiiat the
boon I have demanded, and wliich yonr liberality haa conceded, is
that, on the morrow, you will confer upon me the honour of knight-
hood. Thia night I vill watob my arma in the chapel of your castl^
in order that, in the morning, my earnest desire may be fulfilled, and
I may with propriety traverse the four jiuarters of the world, in quest
of aaventures, for the relief of the distressed ; conformable to the
daties of ciiivalry and of knighta-errant, who, like myself, are devoted
to such pursuits."

The host, who, as we have said, was a shrewd fellow, and' bad
already cntortained some doubts respecting the wits of his guest, was
now confirmed in his suspicions ; and, to make sport for the night,
detwmined to follow his humonr. He told him therefore that his
desire was ver^ reasonable, and that such pursuits were natural and
soitable to knights so illustrious as be ftppeared to be, and as his

Cmt demeanour fully testified ; that he had himself in the days of
youth followed that honourable profession, and travelled over
various parts of the world in search of adventures ; failiofc not to visit
the suburbs of Malaga, the isles of Itiamn, the com^iasa of Seville, the
market-placo of Segovia, the olive-field of Valencia, the rondilla of
Grenada, the coast of St. Lucar, the fountain of Cordova, the taverns
of Toledo, and divers other parte, where he had eiereiaed the agihty
of his heels and the deiteritv of his hands ; committing sundiy
wrongs, soliciting widows, sedudng damsels, cheating youths ; in
short, making himself known to most of the tribuaals in Spain ; and
that nuaUy he had retired to this castle, where be lived upon his
revenue and that of others ; entertaining tocrein all knights-errant of
every quH^ and degree, solely for the great affection he bore them,

A.OOgIC

TBXPASATHnr IOS XSIQHTHOOD. 9

uá that they might abare their fortime with Lim, iu return for his
good win. He further told him that in hU CAstle there was no chapel
vhenán he could wateh his armoar, for it had beca pulled down, in
Mder to be rebuilt ; bat that, in casca oí neocssit;, be knew it might
be done wherever he pleased ; therefore he might vatch it thai night
m a conrt of the castfej and the following morning, if it pleased Gfod,
the Teqoisite ceremonies should be performed, and he should be
' dubbed so eSectuallf, that the world would not be able to produce a
more perfect knight. lie then inquired if bo bad an; money about
him F Don Qaiiotc told him be had none ; having never read m tbeir
histories that knights-errant provided themselves with money. Tlis
innkeeper assured bim be was Toistalcec, for, admitting that it was
not mentioned in their history, the authors deeming it unnccesuir to
specify things so obviously rciiuisite as money and citan shirts, yet
was it not, therefore, to be inferred that they had none ; but, on
tbe contrary, be might consider it as an catablished fact that all
knights-errant, of whose histórica bo many volumes are filled, carried
tbejr purses well provided against accidents ; that they were also
ittpplied with shiru, and a small casket of ointments, to heal tha
wounds they might receive; for in plains and deserts, where tbef
fought and were wounded, no aid was near, nnleaa tbey had some
aage eocbanter for tbtúr friend, who could give them iromediate
assutance,' ' ' cloud through, tbe air some damsel or

dwarf, wilD possessed of such virtue that, upon

tasting a si] 7 should instantly become as sound as

if tbe; had But when the knights of former times

were witho e; always took care that tbeir esquires

ihould be ] ey, and such necessary articles as lint

and salves : id no esquires, which very rarely hap-

pened, they S themselves, upon the crupporoftheir

horse, in wi to be scarcely visible, that thev might

Bcem to be _ importance ; for, except in such casea,

the custom of carrying wallets was not tolerated among knkbts-
errant. He therefore advised, though, as bis godson (which he
was soon to be), he might command him, never henceforth to
travel without money and the aforesaid provisions ; and he would
¿id them serviceable when be least expected it. Don Quiiole pro-
mised to follow bis advice with pnnctuality ; and an order was now
piven for performing tbe watch of the armour, in a large yard adjoin-
ing- the inn. Don Quixote, having collected it together, placed it oa
a cistern which was close to a well ; then, bracing on his target and

Euping his lance, with graceful demeanour, be paced to and fro.
Fore the pile, banning his parade as soon as it was dark.
Tbe innkeeper informed all who were in the inn of tie frenzy of his
guest, tbe w»«hiiig of bis armour, and of the intended knighting.
I3¡ev were aiirprised at so singular a kind of madness, and went out
to oliserve him at a distance. They perceived him sometimes quietly

esing along, and sometimes leaning upon bis lance with his eyea
eá upon Els armour^ for a considerable time. It was now night,
but the moon shone vnth a splendour which might vie even with that
whence it was borrowed; so that every motion of our new knight
might be distinctly seen.

^it thii time^ it happened that one of the carriera wanted to give
iia mides some iraterj for which purpose it was necessary to remove

10 DOK qmxcm.

Don Quiiote's aimonr from the cistern ; «ho seeing bim adTance,
eicUimed with a load voice, " 0 thon, whosoeTer thou art, rash
knight I vho approachest the armonr of the inost valiant adventurer
that ever girdral BwonL beirare of what tbon dost, and touch it not,
unless thou wouldat yitld thy life as the forfeit of thy temeñty." The
carrier heeded not this admonition (though better would it have been
for him if be had), but, seizing hold of tbe straps, he threw the armour
some distance from him ; whiith Don Quixote perceiving, he raised his

Sea to heaven, and addressbg his thoughts, noparently, to hi» ladr
ttlcinea, said ; "Assist me, 0 lad/, to avenge this first insult offered
to jour vBssal'B breast ; nor let vour favoor and protection fail me in
this Gist perilous encounter." ILiviuf; uttered these and similar ejaca-
lations, he let shp his tai^, and, raising his lance with both hands,
he gave the earner snch a stroke upon the head that he fell to the
nound in so grievous a plight tha^ had the stroke been repeatc^

-is anno

Soon after, another carrier, not knowing what had jtassed, for the
first yet laj stunned, came out with the same int«iition of watering
his moles ; and, as he ^proached to take away tbe armonr from the
dstem, Don Quixote, without saying a word or imploring any nro-
tectionl again let slip his target, raised his lanoe, and, with no less
effect toan before, smote the Head of the second carrier. The noise
brought out all the people in the inn, and the landlord among the
test: upon which Don Quixote braced on his target, and laving his
band upon bis sword, sold : " 0 lady of beauty ! strength and visour
of my enfeebled heart ! Now is the time for thee to turn thy illns-
trions eyes upon this thy captive knight, whom so mighty an encounter
awaits !'' This address had he conceived, animated him with so
tnuoh courage that, were all the carriers in the world to have assailed
him. he would not have retreated one step.

Ine comrades of tlie wounded, upon discovering the situation of
their friends, began at a distance to discfaai^ a shower of stones
upon Cion Quixote, who sheltered himself as well as he eould with
his target, without daniw to quit the cistern, becaose be would not
abandon his armour. The innkeeper called aloud to them, b^ging
they would desist, for he had already told them he was insane, and
that, as a madman, he would be acquitted^ though he were to kill
them all. Don Quixote, in a voice still louder, called them infamous
traitor», and the lord of the castle a oowardly, base-born knight, for
allowing knights-errant to be treated in that manner ; declariiig that,
had he received tbe order of knighthood, he would have made him
sensible of his perfidy. " But as for you, ye vile and worthless
rabble, I utterly despise ye I Advance ! Come on, moiest me as far
as ye are able, for auickiy shall ve receive the reward of your folly
and insolence ! " Tbis be uttered with so much spirit and intrepidity
that tbe assiuknts were struck with terror; wiiich, in addition to the
landlord's persuasions, made them ceaw their attack ; he then per-
mitted the wonnded to be carried ofi', and, with the same gravity and
oomposure, resumed the watch of bis armour.

The host, not relishing these pranks of his guest, determined to
put an end to them, before any further mischief ensued, by imme-
di^ely investing liim with tbe luckless order of chirtdry : approtait-

HZ DEFAAn OH HD HáTIU. II

ag bim, therefore, he disdumed an^ eoDcnrrence, on his part, m the
insolent conduct of those low people, nho were, he observed, well
diAStised for their presumption. Be repeated to him that there was
no chapel in the castle, cor wai it by asa means necessarj for what
remained to be done ; that the itroke of knightiug consisted in blows
on the neck and shoiilders, accordinit to the ceremonial of the order,
which might be effectuallj performed in the middle of a field ; that
tiie duty of watching his armour he had now completely fulfilled, for
he had watched more than four houn, though only two were rc-
qoired. AU this Dun Qoiiote beliered, and said that he was there
ready to obey him, requesting him, U the same time, to perform the
deed as soon as possible; because, should he bt assaulted a^n when
he found himseu knighted, he was resolved not to leave one persoit
alive in the castle, exoeptinj;thoBewhoro, out ofrespect to him, and at
his particular request, he might be induced to spare. The constable,
thus vaeoed and alarmed, immediately brought forth ■ book in which
he kept bis acoooitt of the atraw and oats he furnished to the earners,
and, attended by a boy, who carried an end of candle, and the two
damsels before mentioned, went towards Don Quixote, whom he com-
manded to kneel down ; he then began reading in his manual, as if it
were some devout pniyer, in the course of which he raised his hand and
gKve him a good blow on the neck, and, after that, a handsome stroke
over the shoulders, with his own sword, still muttering between his
teeUi, as if in prayer. This being done, he commanded one of the
ladies to gird on his sword, an office she performed with much
alacritv as well aa discretion, no small portion of which was necessary
to Bvoid bursting with laughter at every part of the ceremony; but
indeed the prowess they had seen displayed hj the new knigfat kept
their mirtb within bounds. At girding on the sword, the good lady
■aid: " (Sod grant you may be a fortúnate knight and successful in
battle." Bon Quixote inquired her name, that he might thencefor-
ward know to whom he was bdebted for the favour reoeived, as it
was his intention to bestow upon her some share of the honour he
should acouire by the v^our of his arm. ííhe replied, with much
homiiity, that her name was Tolosa, and that she was the daughter of
a cobbler at Toledo, who Uved at the stalls of Sancbobienaja ; and that,
wheKVer she was, she wonld serve and honour him as ber lord. Don
Qoixote, in reply, requested her, for his sake, to do him the favour
beneefortit to ada to her name the title of don, and call herself Donna
Toloa», which she promised t^ do. The other girl now buckled on
bis spur, and with her he held nearlv the same conference as with
the udf f¿ the sword ; having inqnired her name, she told hini it was
"" 1 .1 . 1 , ,. . I . illerof Anti "

, . .^, _ ^ _d thanks.

These neveT'till-theD-seeu ceremonies being thus speedily performed
Don Quixote was impatient to find himself on horseback, m quest of
tdventures. He therefore instantly saddled Soiinante, mounted him,
and, emhraoing his host, made his acknowledgments for the favour he
had conferred oy knighting him, in terms so extraordinary, that it
would be in vain to attempt to repeat them. The host, in order to
get lid of him the sooner, repliao, with no leas flourish, but p)Of|
brevity ; and, without making any demand for bis lodging, wished
him A good jonraej.

A.OOgIC

0/ iBhat Sí/tí owr ¡night after he had toUied from Ott «tiu

JOTtnereof almost burnt És horse's girths. But recollecting- the
advice of hia host concerning the neceaaarv proTisiona for his under-
taking, especiilly the articles of monej and clean shirts, he resolTcd to
retumbóme, and fitmish himself accordinijlr, and also proTÍde himself
with a Siimre, jjurposinft to take into hia service a certain country
fellow of tke neighbourhood, who wna poor, and had children, jet was
TCirfit for the sciuirelj ofBce of chivjiy. With this determination
he mmed Roninante towards his TÜlage ; and the steed, as if aware of
his master's intention, began to put on with so much alacrity that h»
hardljseemedtoset hia feet to the ground. Heh»dnot,howcTer,gono
fer. when, on his right hand, from athickct hard by, he fancied he heard
feenle cries, as from some peraon coinplninine. And scarcely had he
heard it when he said, " I thank Heaven for the favour it does me, by
ofTorin^ me so early an opportunity of coiflpljing with the duty of my
profession, and of reaping the fniit of my nononrable desires. Thesa
are, doubtless, the erica of some distressed person, who stands in need
of my protection and assistance." Then, turning the reins, he guided
Roziuante towards the placa whence he thought the cries proceeded,
and he had entered but a few paces into the wood, when lie saw n
mare tied to an oA, and a lad to another, naked from the wfdst
Tipwaids, about fifteen years of we, who was the person that cried
out ; and not without cause, for a lusty country fellow waa laying on
him Tcry severely with a belt, and accompanied every lash with a
reprimand and a word of advice ; for. said he^ " The tflugue slow and
the eyee quick." The boy answered, "I will do so no more, dear
Hir ; by the passion of God, I will never do so again ; and I promise
for the future to take more care of the fiock."

Don Quiiote, observing what passed, now called ont in an UigTT
tone, " Discourteous kniijht, it ill becomes thee to deal thus with one
who is not able to defend himself Get upon thy horse, and take thy
lance " (for he bad also a lance leaning against the oak, to which the
mare was fastened), " and 1 will make tbee sensible of thy dastardly
conduct." The countiyman, seeii^ such a fiiure coming towards
him, armed (rom head to foot, and Brandishing his lanee at his face,
rave himself up for a dead man, and therefore hnmhly answered;
Signor cavalier, this lad I am chastising is a serrant of mine, whom
I employ to tend a flock of sheep which I have hereabouts ; but he is
w careless that I lose one every day ; and beoaase I correct him for
his negligence, or roguery, he says I do it out of covetousness, and
for an eicuse not to pav him his wages; but before God, and on my
conscience, he lies." Dar'st thou say so inmypresence.TÜenistJoP^
•aid Don Qoiiote. "By the sun thrt shines uoou us, I have a good
mind to run tiiee through with this buce I Pa; him immediately,
, , . .A.OOgIC

TBI KKIGHT^ MKlOirUI. ASSmATtOIT. 18

«itfaontfnrtlierrtplj; if not, bjtheGod tbat rulesiia,Iinll de^atiA
■nd anmhÜBte tbee m ft moment! Cnbmd him ¡natanüy!" The
taaattymttii hnug down his head «ad, without replj, untied hia boy.
Bon Qoiiote tiien asked the lad bov much liii muür owed him, and
be anawered, nine months' waees, ftt seTen reals a month. Don
Quixote, on calculation, found that it amounted to siit;-thre« reals,
üd desired the countiyman inatantlT to disburse tbem, unless he
meant to pa; it with hig life. The fellow, in a ñ^sht, answered that,
on the word of a dfinK man, and npoa the oath he bad taken (thoogn
b; the way he bad takcm no oath), it «a* not so much ; for be mnst
ieduct the price of Üiree pair of shoes he had gifen him on account,
■nd a real for two bloodlettings when be was sick. " All this ia
Tei7 right," said DonQuiiote; "but set the shoes and the blood-
lettiaga añinst the stripes thou hast given him unjustljr ; for if he
toe the leather ' ' thou bast torn his skin: and if th«

barber-surgeon i am him when be was sick, thou bast

dnwn Uood fro; e is well; so that upon these accounts

he owes tbee n le misduef is, signor cavalier," quoth

tfae countryman, no money about me : but let Andres

go home with mi ly him all, real by reaL" " I eo horna

'with him !" salt le devil a bit ! no, air, I will do no

such thing; for le alone, he will flav me like any Saint

Bartholomew." t do ao," replied Don Quixote ¡ "to

keep him in awl it that I lay my oommsjiaá upon him ¡

au(£ on conditio! me, by the order of knighthood which

be has received, ! go free, and will be bound far the pay-
ment." "Good sir, think of what you say," quoth the bov¡ "for m^
master is no knight, nor ever received any order of knightbood: he is
John Aldudo. the nch, of the neighbourhood of Quintanar." That
is little to the purpose" answered Don Quixote; "there maybe
knúhts of the family of the Aldudos : more especially as every man
is We sou of his own works," " That's true," quoth Andres ; " but
what works is m j master the son of, who refuses me the wages of my
•weat and labour ?" " I do not refuse tbee, friend Andres," replied
theoDuntirman; "have the kindness to go with me: and I swear, by
all the onkn of knighthood that are in the world, I will pay thee
cvei^ real down, and perfnmed' into the bargain." "For the per-
fnmmc. I thank thee, said Don Quixote : " give him the reals, and
I shall be satisfied : and see that thou failcat not : or else, by the same
oatb, I swear to return and chastise thee ; nor shslt thou escape me,
though tliou wert to conceal thyself closer than a lizard. And if thou
wouBst be informed who it is thus commands, that thou mayest feel
tíie more strict^ bound tfl perform thy promise, know that I am the
VsloroQs Don Quixote de h Mancha, the rcdrésser of wrongs and
abuses; so farewell, and do not forget what thou hast promised and
~ ~ , oa pain of the penalty I bare denounced." So Baying, he

d spurs to Uonnaute. and was soon far off.

countryman eagerly followed him with his eyes ; and, when he
saw him quite out of tlie wood, be turned to his lad Andres, and
said : " Come hither, child, I wish now to pay what I owe thee, as
that rcdresser of 'wrongs commanded." "So you shall, I swear,"
qnoth Aadree; "aad you vrilt do well to obey tlie orders of that

* A ^laiiúlk pbiaoe G» paying or ratoming anything with cdvantags,

A.OOgIC

cl^iped B]

14 DON qnnon.

honeat gentleman (whom God grant bo live a thonsand jenra !), who
Ú 30 brave a man, and bo just a judge, that, e?ad, if }'ou do not par
me, he will come back and do what he baa threatened." "And I
swear so too," quoth the countryman ; "and to show how much I
love thee, I am resolved to augment the debt, that I mat add to the
payment." Then, taking him oy the aim, he again tied him to the
tree, where he gave him so many stripes, that he left him for dead.
" Now," said he, " Master Andres, call upon that redreaaer of wrongs ;
tboa wih find he will not easily redress this : tbougb I believe 1 have
not quite done with thee yet, for I have a good mind to flav thee
alive, aa thou gaidat just now." At lem^h, however, he untied him,
and gave him leave to go in quest of liig jodge, to execute the
thiealened sentenoe. Andres went away in dudgeon, swearing he
would find oat the valorous Don Quixote de la Mancha, ani( tell him
all that had passed, and that he should pay for it seveufold. Never-
theless, he departed in tears, leaving his master laughing at him.

Thus did the valorous Don Quixot« redress tbis wrong ; and, elated
at so fortunate and glorious a beginning to his knight .errantry, he
went on toward his village, entirely satisfied with himself, and sayiiw
in a bw voice : " Well mayst tliou deem thyself happy above all
women hving on the earth, O Dulcinea del Toboso, b^iuteous abov«
the most beautiful ! since it has been thy lot to have subject and
obedient to thy whole will and pleasure so raiiant and renowned a iuiight
as b and ever shall be Doc Quixote dc la Mancha I who, as all the world
knows, received but yealernay the order of knighthood, and to^iay has
redressed thegreat£st injury and grievance that injustice couldinvenl^
and cruelty commit I to-day hath he wrested the scourge out of the
hand of that pitiless enemy, by whom a tender stripling was so no-
deservedly lashed ! "

lie now came to the toad, which branched out in four different
directions ; when immediately those cross-ways presented themselvea
to his imiwnation where knights-errant usually stop to consider
which of the roads thev shall take. Here, then, following theii
example, he paused awhile, and, after mature consideration, let go IJu)
reins; submitting his own will to that of his horse, who, following
his first motion, took the direct road towards his stable. Hatinc;

r--r—, — , — - ,- —- cj- - — , , - -jledo,

joing to buy silks in Murcia, There were six of them in number;
they carried umbreUns, and were attended by four servants on horso-
bacV, and tbiee muleteers on foot. Scarcely had Don Quixote espied
them, when he imagined it must be some new adveuture: aniC to
imitate as nearlv as possible what he had read in his books, as he
fancied this to oe cut out on purpose for him to achieve, with a
graceful deportment and intrepid air, he settled himself finniy in his
stirrups, grasped his lance, covered his breast with his tai^t, and,
posting Iiunself in the midst of the highway, awaited the approach u
Uiose whom be already judged to be Knighls-erraiit ; and when tiiey
were come so near as to be seen and heard, lie raised his voice, had,
with an arro|,-Bnt tone, cried out ; "Let the whole world sland, if the
whole world docs not confess that there is not in the whole world a
damsel more beautiful than the empress of La Mancha, the peerless
Dulcbea del Toboso ! " The merchants stopped at the sound of ihese
words, and also to behoM the strange %ure of hi» who pronounced
A.OOgIC

HIS IIKF(nttn]U.TB EVCOttlTTKB.

meant vhicbhe required; and therefore one of tbem, who wu

somewhat of a. wag, hot withal very discreet, said to him ;— " Signor
0»»»Uer, we do not know who this good lady you mention may bo :
Jet Ds but see her, and if she be really so b^alifol as you intimate,
ve will, with all om hearts, and withont any constraint, make the
confession yon demand of us." " Should I show her to you," replied
Don Qaitote, "where would be the nierit of cnnfeasing a trath bo
manifest f It ú esaential that, without seeing her, vou believe, eon-
Ins, affirm, swear, and maintam it ; and, if not, I challeage yon all to
battle, inoud and monstrous as yon are : and, whether you come on
one by one (as the laws of chivalry require), or all together, as is the
custom and wicked practice c¿ thoae of your stamp, here I wait for
jaa. ctmñding in tLe iustice of my cause." "Signor cavalier,"
lepUed the meiefaant, I beseech yonr worship, in the name of all
the princes here present, that we may not lay a burden upon our con-
tcienoes, by coniessii^ a thing we never saw or heard, and, especially,
being so mncb to the pr^vdice of the empresses and qneenswAlcar-
tia nd EsCieai&dDra, that yoni worship would be pleased to show ns
Bmne pictare QÍ this lady, tooo^ no bi^er than a barleycorn, for we
shall guess at the dne by the thread ; and therewith we shall rest
satisfied and safe, and your worship contented and pleased. Nay, Z
TCiilj believe we are so far inclined to your side that, although tier
fsctore should represent her soninting with one eya and distilling
nnnilion and brimstone from the other, notwithstanding oU this, to
oUige jon, we will say whatever you please in her fnvonr." " There
difUsnot, b" 1—1" J r,— -1-^-.- L — ■ u,.

nS c

not, base scoundrels," answered Don (Jurtote, burning with
, there distils not from her what you say, but rather ambetíTÍa
diet among cotton ; neither doth she squint, nor is she hunch-
rM4 hnt nnKtmucht AAftflninHli> of (riiJidArrHniA'* but voir Rh&ll nav

far the horrid blasphemjr vou have Uttered against ,-

beauty I" 3o saying, witb his lanoe couched, he ran at him who had
spoken with so mu<£ fury and rage that, if good fortune had not so
(«dered that BoEinante stambted and fell in the niidst of his carcef»
it had gone hard with the rush merchant. Ruzinante fell, and lus
master bif roiling about the fiehl for some time, endeavouring to rise.
Ixit in vmn ; so encnmbcred was he with his lanoe, target, spurs ana
helmet, added to the weight of his antiquated armour. And while he
was thus stntgcling to get np, he continued callinfc out ; — " i'lv not,
TB dastardly rabble ; stay, ye race of slaves ; for it is through my
DHse's fault, and not my own, that I lie here eitended." A muleteer
of the companv, not over good-natured, hearing the arrtMfant ianguajte
of the poor fallen gentleman, could not bear it without retumbg him
SB answer on his ribs ; and coming to him, he took the lance, which
having bniken to pieces, he applied one of the splinters with so much
aiility upon Don Quiiote, that, in spite of his armour, be was threshed
I't SvJi'- "-- -- ' *'-J * J '-— k:-~ *- r„_i..K__. I — * ii.«

lad was
spent the

* A miall town i^e teagnss from Madrid, «Knatsd at tha fc
moODtahi, the rooks ot which are so perpandioukr Ukat they an
""■' ""inillnT " Near it stands the EaouriaL — Janit,

:e wheat. Bis masters called out, desiring him to forbear ; but the

ncTer shut hjs moath, incetsantlv tbreateninB heaven and earth, uo
those who to him Rppe&red to be BMussiua, &t lenfth the fellow

s tired, and the merchants departed, miffloientlf luroished with

tier of discourae concerning the poor bekbonred kniaht, whc

when he found himself alone, again endeavoured to risej out, if h

matter of discourae concerning tlie poor bekbonred Icnigli
■ ' ' * ' ' ' " ' 'i endeavoured to rise; oi

I, how should be in so brui
consoled in looking upon I

it; and impatiue uie cJaiu

p vu imposñb^ tus whole bodf

could not do it when sound and well, how should be in so bruised aL ..
battered a cocditiou P Yet he was consoled in looking upon this as a
nusfortnne peculiar to kniehts-emuit ; and impatiue uie cJame to his
horse : olthou^ to raiM nimself up v ' '' ' ' ■ ' ■ '

la 10 boiriblf braised.

WluTti* ii antiniud IÍ4 uarraiioK qf our ¿BvAi'i nif/ixAiM.

Yekt full of pain, ^et soonashew&a able to stir, Don Quiio4« had
recouTBe to his usual remedy, «hich was to recollect some incident in
hia books, and hia freuzt inatantlj suggested to him that of Valdo-
TÍnos and the marquis of Mantua, when Carloto left him wounded on
the mountain : a story faimliar to children, uot unknown to youth,
oomnoended and even credited b/ old men; jet no more true than the
miiaclea of Maliomet. Now this seemed to him exactly suited ta his
case ; therefore he began to roll himself on the ground, and to repeat,
in a faint voice, what they affirm was said by the wounded knigbt of
the wood: —

Of tlioa art fUsa and pitÜMS."

In tiiis manner he went on with the romance, nntil he oame to those
Terses where it is said: — "O noble marquis of Mantoa, mjr uncle mid
lord by blood ! "—just at that instant it so happened that a peasant of
bis own Tillage, a near neighboor, who had been canying a load of
wheat to the mill, paaaed by : and, seeing a man lyii^ stretdied on
the earth, he came up, and asked him who he was, and what was the
cause of hia doleful lamentations ? Bon Quiiote ¿rmlj believbg him
to be the marnuis of Mantua his uncle, returned him no answer, but
proceeded with the romance, giving an acoount of his miafortuae. and
of the amours of the emperor's son with his spouse, just as it is there
recounted. The peasant was astonished at his extravagant discourse :
and taking off his Tizor, now battered nil to pieces, he wiped the dust
from his lace- upon waiob he recomised bun, and eiclaimed, "Ah,
Signer QnixBOa (for so he was caDed before he hall lost tiis senses,
and was transformed from a sober eentleman to a knight.erTant},
"bow came your worship in thisoon(^tionF" But still he uswered
out of hb romance to whatever question he wu asked.

The good man, seciiig thii, costriied to Ulu off Ihs ha^ and

A.OOgIC

HIS KZTCBN HOHE. 17

breastpieoe of his armoor, to examina if he had any wonndi but he
saw DO blood, nor sign of anv hurt. He then endeaTOnied to raise
him from the sroond, and viui no little trouble placed him upon his
■Bs, as being- tne beast of easier cairia^. He gathered to|ietner all
the arma, not CKoepting the broken pieces of Taooe, aad ued them
upon Rozinante ; taen taking him h; tlie bridle, and his ass bj the
halter, he vent on towards bia vilWe, full of coGOcm at the wild
language of Don Quiioto. No less thoughtful was the knight, who
was BO cTQeUf beaten and bruised that he cuold ecarcclv keep himself
upon the ass, and ever and anoa be sent forth groans that seemed to
pierce the ikies, ioBomach that the peasant was again forced to
mquire what ailed him. Aid Burelj' the devil alone could have fur-
nisbed his meniorj; with stories so applicable to wbat had befallen
him; for at that instant, forgetting Valdovinos, be recollected the
Moor Abindarraez, at the time wuen the governor of Antequera,
Roderigo of Narvaez, had taken him prisoner, and conveyed him to
his castle ; so that when the peasant asked him again how be was,
and what be felt, he answered him in the ver; same terms that were
used by the prisoner Abindarraez to Hoderigo of Narvaez, as he had

n the Diana of George of Montemayor, amlyini; it so aptly to
nis own cose tliat the peasant went on cursing lumsclf to the deviL to
hear such a monstrous heap of nonsense, which convinced him that
his ncighboiu* bad run mad, and he therefore mnde what haste ha
contd to reach the village, and thereby escape the plague of D<m
Quixote's lonij speeches L who, still continning, said : — " Be it known
to your worship, Signor Don Koderigo de Narvaez, that this beaute'
ons Xarifa, whom I mentioned, is now the fwr Dulcinea del Toboso,
for whom I have done, do, and will do, the most famous exploits ot
chivalry, that have been, are, or shall be, seen in the world." To this
the peasant answered:— "Look you. Sir, as 1 ama sinner. I am not
Don Koderigo de Nonaes, nor tbe marquis of Mantua, Dut Pedro
Alonio your neighbour : neither is your worship Taldovinos, nor Abin-
darraez, but the worthy gentleman Signor Quixada." " I know who
I am." answered Don Qiiixote; "and I know, too, that I am not only
capable of beine those I have mentioned, but all the twelve peers of
Prance, yea, and the nine worthies, since my exploits will far exceed
all that they have jointly or separately achieved.

With this and similar conversation, they reached the village abont
lunsct ; but the peasant waited imtil the night was a titile advanced,
that the poor nittcrcd gentleman might not be seen so scnrvily
monntod. When he thought it the proper time, he entered the
village, and arrived at Don Quixote's house, which he found all in
eonfnsion. The priest and the barber of the place, who were Don
Quixote's particuW friends, happened to be there : and the house-
keeper was saying to them aloud ; " What do you think, Signor
Licentiate Pero Perez " (for that was tbe pricsf s name) " of my
master's misfortune? for neither be, nor his horse, nor the tai^ct,
nor tbe lanoe, nor the armour, have been seen these six days past.
Woe is me ! I am verily persuaded, and it is certainly true as 1 was
bom to die, that these cursed books of knight-errantry, which he '

often reading, have turned his brain ; and, now I think of it, I have
(rften heard uim sav, talking to bimselt tbat he would turn knight-

, . ., . .... .■ ..,.,. Thedevil

nest under-
L.OOgIC

errant, and go abont the world in quest of adventures. The luvil
and Barabbas take all Buch book», that Lave apoüed the finest nnder-

IS BOS 4ÜIX01B.

(tending in ill Lt> JIuiclia." The niece joined vith her, adiling,
" And ;oa mnst know, Master Nicholas " (for that wu the barbera
name}, " that it has often happened that m; honoured nncle has con-
tinued ponng on these wicked books of misadventures two whole
dafs ana nights ; then, tlirowir^ tiie book out of his hand, he would
draw his sword and strike s^ainst the wails ; and when he was
heartilj tired- would saj', he had killed four eiants, as tall as soman/
steenlea. and that the sweat, which his labour occasioned, was the
blood of the wounds be had rcccÍTed in the fight ; then, after drink-
ing oiET a lar^ piteher of cold water, be would be as quiet as ever,
teDing ns that tie water was a most precicms lienor, brought him by
the sage Esquife, a great enchanter, and his friend. But I take the
idame of ail this to mjself, for not mfonning you, gentlemen, of my
dear uncle's extravagancies, that thev might haTe oeen cored before
tjiej had gone so £sr, by burning all tliose cursed books, which as
joatly deserve to be committed to the fiames as if the; were here-
ticaL" " I say the same," quoth the priest : " and, uj feith, to-
morrow shall not pass without holding a publio inquisition ni>an
them, and condemning them to the flre, that they may not occasion
others to act as I fear my good friend has done."

AH this was overheard by Don Quiiote and the peasant ; oni^ as it
confirmedthe latter in the belief of his neighbour's mflrmitv, he began
to cry aloud, " Open the doors, gentlemen, to Signer Valaovinos and
the marquis of Mantua, who comes dangerouily wounded, and to
Signer Abindarraez the Moor, whom the valorous Boderigo de Nar-
vaez, governor of Antequera, Drings as his prisoner." Hiring this,
they all came out ; and, immediately recognising their friend, they
ran to embrace him, althon^b he had not vet alighted from the
OSS ; for indeed it was not in his power. "Torbeii, all (rf vnn,"
he cried, " for I am sorely wounded, through my horse's fault ;
carry me to my bed; and, if it be possible, send for the sage Ur-

u to search and heal my wounds." " Look ye," said the
Douoeceeper immediately, " if my heart did not tell me tral; on
which leg my master halted. Get upstairs in God's

without the help of that same Urgandn, we shall find a way to cure
yon ourselves. Cursed, say I asajn, and a hundred times cursed, be
those books of knight-errantry, tlial have brought your worship t« this
pass!" They earned him directly to his ohamber, where, on searching
for his wounds, they oould discov» none. He then told them " ho
vas only bruised by a great fall he got with bis horse Rozinante, as
he was nghttng with t^ of the most prodigious and audacious giants
on the face of the earth." " Ho, ho ! says the priest, " what, there
are giants too in the dance 1 bv my faith, I shall act fire to them all
before to-morrow night." They asked Don Qoiiote a thousand

Sfstions, to which he wonld return no answer ; he only desired that
ey would give him some food, and allow hun to sleep, that beinp
what be most required. Having done tliis, the priest inquired parti-
cularly of the oountryman in what condition Don Quixote hid been
found. The countrymau gave bim an account of the whole, with the
extravagancies he h^ uttered, both at the time of finding bim, and
dñnng their journey home ; which made the Licentiate impatient to
carry into execution what he had determined todo tiio following day,
vhen, for that purpose, calling upon his friend Master Nicholas the
bubw, the; prooecoed together to Dob Quixote's houM).

CHAPTEB VI.-

,0/oi.r

Lime Bud heavy -was the sleep of Don Qniiote ; meanvhile the
phest hacine aakea the niece for the iev of the chamber containing
the books, those authon of the mischief, which she delivered with a

Tery - ■ teeper, and fuuad

■bcrr 9 a oreat number

of ss ;e them than she

na I r returned with a

pot 1 " Siynor LiccQ-

tidii enchanter of the

aaa, as a punishment

iort The priest smiled

■t 1 barber to reach.

iim rhat they treated

of; ot to be chastised

tvfl why any of them

mm ien : so hi them

all 1 . rd ; anil, having

madeapileof tbem. set ¿reto it : or elsemakeabónfiícof theminthe

back-ysfd, where the smoke will offend nobody." The housekeeper

laid the Mine ; so eagerly did thev both thirst for the death of tiiose

innocents. But the pneat would not consent to it without first

reading tke titles at Wast.

Tht first that Master Nicholas pnt into his hands was Amadis de

priest said, "There seems to be some

card say that this was the first book of

id that ail the rest had their founda-

ik, therefore, as head of so pernicious

him to the fire without mercy." " Not

have heard also that it is the best o( all

fore, as being uncnnalled in its way, it

arc right," said tne priest, "and for

for the present. Let us see that other

I the barber, " the Adventures of Es-

of Amadis de Gaul." " Verily," said

the father shall avail the son nothing;

er; open that easement, and tlirow liim

lake a beginning to the pile for the

I j-.x .. ^j([| mnch satisfaction.

r— — * for the fire with which he was threatened, "Proceed,"

said the priest. " The neit," said the barber, " is Amadis rf
Greeoe; yea, and all these on this aide, I believe, are of the lincof^cof
iiaadis.'' " Then into the yard with them all!" quoth the priest j
" for niber than not bnm Qaeen Pintiquluiestia, aitd the shepherd

80 DON QÜIIOTI.

Darinel with liis eclopiiea, and the devilish perpleiities of the «nthor,
I would bum the fatlier who beeot me, «ere I to meet liim in the
shape of a kiiight-erniQt," "Of the same opinion ain I," said the
barber ; "Audi too," added the niece. "Well then," said the
housekeeper, "avray willi them all into the yard." Tliey handed
them to her; and, as thcT vere numerous, to save herself the trouble
of the stairs, she threw them all out of the window.

"What tun of an author is that?" said the priest. "This,"
answered the barljer. " is Don Olivante de Laura." " Tlie author of
that book," said the priest, "was tlie same who composed the
Garde» of Flowers ; and in good truth 1 know not whielt of the two
books is the trllc^t, or rather (he least lying; lean only say that tills
Koes to the yard for its arrogance and absurdity." Tlus that fol-
lows is I'lorismarte of Uvrcania," said the barber, " What ! is
Siguor riurismarte there? reiilieil the priest: " now, by my faith,
he sliall soon make his appearance in the yard, notwilhstoniung his
Blraiige búth and chimerical adventures; for the harshness and dry-
ness of his stf le will admit of no excuse. To the yard with bim, and
this other, mistress housckccjicr." " With all mv heart, dear sic,"
aiLswered she; and with much joy exceuLi'd what she was com-
manded. " Here is the knight Flntir," siiid (he barber. " That,"
said the priest, "is an ancient book, and I find nothing in him
desen'h^ pardon: without mure words, let him be sent after the
rest ;" which was accordingly duDC, They opened another book^ aud
found it entitled (he Knight of the Cross. " So religious a title,"
mioththe priest, " might, otie would think, atone for the ignorance of
tne author; but it is a common saying, 'the devil lurks behind
the cross:' so to tlie lire with hmi." The barber, tuking down
another book, said, " This is the mirror of chiraliy." " Oli ! I know
his worship very well," quotli the [iriest. " llcre comes Siguor
liejualdos do Jlontalran, with his frii-nds and compauions, greater
thieves than Caeus ; and the Twelve Peers, with the failhfufhisto-
riugra|iher Turpin. However I wn only for condemning them to
iM!r)ii'tual bunishracnt. because they contain some tilings of the
lamuus Hateo JJojardo; from whom the Christian poet Lndovico
¿riosto spun his web ; and, even to him, if I find him here uttering
any other hmgnage thna his own, I will show no respect ; but if he
speaks in his own tongue, I will put him upon my head. " I have him
inltalian,"saidthc barber, "butldonotuuderstandhim." "Neither
is it an}' greet mal ter, whclher tounndcrstaudhimor uot," answered
the pne^ ; " aud we would willingly have excused the good captain
from brinjrins him into Sjiaiu and makiug htm aCastiliaii; for he lias
deprived him of a great deal o( his native value ; which, indeed, is
the nibforiunc of all those who undertake t he t nmslation of poetry into
other hiiigua^'cs ; for, with aU their e.irc aud skill, they can never
briug them on a level with theori:£Ínal production. In short, I scu-
teuce (his, aud all other l>uoks, thai shall he found treating of Frimeh
matters, to be Ihrxiwu aside, and deposiled in some árv laidt, until we
can deli lieratc more matuiely what is to be done with them ; excepting,
however. Heñíanlo del Car|iio, and anotlier, called lionccsialles,
whieh, if (lier fall into my hands, shall pass into those oí the house-
ki c^jer, and (hence into tlie lire, without any remission." The barber
conliniieil (he sentence, and aecounted il well and rifthtly deter-
mined, knowing that the priest was so good a Chrbtian, and so

" A.oogic

DHInietton of Don Qiiliolc'i llbntr.— P. to.

r : .,..1, Google

Uigniaüb, Google

DisFZBaion 01 his libbabt. SI

mnch a frieaid to trntb, that he would not utter a falsehood for all
the irorld.

Then, opening another book, he saw it was Palmerm de Oliva, and
neit to that another, called Palmerin of Ensland ; on cspjins n-hich,
the Licentiate said, "Let this Oliva be torn to pieoes, and so effec-
tually burnt that not so much as the ashes may rcmaio ; but let Pol-
merinof England be preserved and kept, as an unique nroduclioti; ami
such another case be made for it as that vhieh Alexander found among
the spoils of Darius, and «mropriated to preserve the works of the pni't
Homer. This book, neighbour, is estimable npon two aceoiuils; the
<»e, that it is very pood of itself; and the olner, because there is a
tradition tliat it was written by an ingenious king of Portugal. All
the adventures of the castle of Miraguarda are eicfllect, and con-
trived with much art-, the dialoeue courtly and clear; and all the
diaraeteri preserved with great jui^ment and propriety. Therefore,
Master Nicholas, savii^ four better jndgmenl. let tljis and Amadis
de Gaul be exempted from the fire, anil let all the rest perish wilhnut
•ny further inquiry." "Not so, friend," replied the barher; "for
thá which I liavc here b the renowned Don BeU, 'is." The priest
■ «plied, " This, and the second, third, and fourth parts want a Uttio
ihttharb to pni^ away their excess of bile ; besides, we must rer e
aU that relates to the castle of Fame, and other absurdities of preatcr
Conseq^npiice ; for which let sentence of transportation he passi'd upnti
them, andj according as the,v show signs of amendment, they shall bo
treated with mercy or justice. In the mean time, neighbour, give
them room in your house; but let them not be read." " With all
my heart," qaoth the barbery and without firing himself any farther
in taming over books of chivalry, hid the housekeeper take all the

rt ones and throw them into the vard. This was not spoken to
itunid or deaf, but to one who had a gttiater mind to be burning
them than weaving the finest and largest web; and therefore, laying
hold of seven or eight at once, she tossed them out at the window.

But, in taking so many together, one fell at the barber's ft ct, who
had a mind to see what it was, and found it to be the History of the
renowned knight Tirante the Whit*. "Heaven save me!" quoth the
priest, with a load voice. " is Timnte the While there ? Give him to
me, neighbour; for in him I shall have a treasure of dohght, and a
mine of entertainment. Here we have Don Kyrie-Kleisou of Mon-
talvan, a valorous knight, and his brotherThomasof .Miinta)v,-m, with
the knight Funseca, and the combat which the valiant Tirante foui:lit
with the bull-dog, and the witticisms of the damsel Plaierdemivida,
also the amour? and artiüces of the widow Reposada; and madam
the Empress ia love with her sqiiire Hvpolito. Verily, neighbour, in
its way it is the best book in the world : here the kiiúílits cat, and
sleep, and die in their beds, and make their wills before their deaths;
with several thinpa which are not to be found in any other books of
tldii kind. Notwitb.standing this, I tell you, the author descr\'ed, for
writing so many foolish thinis seriously, to be sent to the galle.™ for
the whole of hia life : carry it home and read it, and you will fuid all
I sav of him to be true, " I will do so," answered the barber :
"btti what shall we do with these small volumes tliat remain?"
"Those," said the priest, "are, probably, not bonks of chivalrv, but
of poenj." Then opening one, tie found it was the Diana nf George
de Moutemayor, and, concluding that all the others were of the same

82 DON QDIIOIB.

kbd, he said, " These do not deserve to bo bnrnt like tbe rest ; for
tliey cautiot oo the mischief that those of chivahy have done ; they
■re work of genios and fancy, and do injurj to none." " 0 sir, ' said
the niece, " pray order them to be homt with the rest ; for shonld
my uncle be cured of this distemper of chivalry, he may possibly, by
rcadinz such books, take it into his head to turn shepherd, and wander
through ttie woods and fields, singing and phifing on a pipe ; and,
what would be still worse, turn poet, which, they say, is a» incnrable
and Dontaeions disease," "The damsel says true," auotii the priest,
" and it will not be amiss to remove this stiunbliug- block out of our
friend's way. Ami, since we begin with the Diana of Montemayoi,
my opinion is that it should not be burnt, but that all that part
should be expun^ which treats of tlie sage Felicia, and of the
enchanted fuuntom, and also most of the longer poems ; learii^ him,
in God's name, the prase, and also the honour of heiag the first in
that kind of writing. "The neit that appears," said the barber,
" is the Diana, called the second, by Salmantmo ; and another, of the
same name, whose author is Gd Polo." "The Salmantinian," an-
swered the priest, " may accompany and increase the number of the
condemned— to the yard with lum : bnt let that of Gil Polo be pre-
served, as if it were written by Apollo hiniself. Proceed, friend, and
kt Ds despatch ; (or it grows late,

"This, said the barber, opening another, "is the Ten Books of
the Fortune of Love, composed by Antonio de io Fraaso, a Sardinian
poet." "By the holy orders I have received!" said the priest,
since Apollo was Apollo, the muses muses, and the poels poets,
so humorous and so whimsical a book as this was never written: it
is the best, and most extraordinary of the kind, that ever appeared in
the workl : and he who has not read it may be assured that he has
never read anything of taste ■ give it me here, neighbour, for I am
better pleased at finding it than if I had been nresented with a cas-
sock of Florence satin.' He laid it aside, witJi great satisfactioo,
•nd the barber proceeded, saying: "These which follow are the
Shepherd of Ibena, the lymphs of Enares. and the Cure of Jea-
lousy." "I'hen you have only to deliver them up to the secular
arm of the housekeejier," said, the priest, " and ask me not why. for
in that case we should never have done." "Theneit is the Shepherd
of Rlida." " Ho is no shepherd," said the priest, " but an injicnious
courtier; let him be preserved, and laid up as a precious jeweL"
"This bulky volume here," said the barber, "is entitled the Treasure
of Divers Poems." "Had they been fewer," replied the priest,
"they would have been more esteemed: it is necessary that this book
should be weeded and cleared of some low things interspersed amongst
its sublinuties ; let it be preserved, both because the author is mj
friend, and out of respect to other more heroic and exaltod produc-
tions of hia pen." "This," pursued the barber, " is El Cancionero
of LopcE Maldonado." The author of that book," rcpLed the
priest. " is also a great friend of mine : his verses, when sun» by
himself, eicite much admiration ; indeed, such is the sweetness of ma
voice in sinzing them, that thev are perfectly enchanting. He ia a
little too prolii m his eclonus ; out there can never be too mnoh of
what is really good : let itlw preserved with the select.

"Bot what book is that next to itf" " The Galatea of Michael
de Cervantes," tüd the barber. "That Cervantes has been u

, , . .A.OOgIC

TEB C01fSA.T WITH HIS SEIDOW.

intímate friend or mne these ID attf Tean, and I know that he íb more
versed in múfortmies than in poetr?. Tiiere is a good vein of inven-
timi in his book, which pnq>o3es something, thoagh nothing ia con-
ohided ; we nmit wait for the second "ptiit, which he has promised ;
pedup^ on his amendment, he naj' obtain that entire pardon which
u now denied him; in the mean time, neighbwir, keep Eim a recluse
m yonr chamber." " With all my heart," answered the barber : "now
here oontes three together : the Arancana of Don Alonso de Ereilla,
the ¿natriada of Juan Rafo, a magistrate of Cordova, and the Mon-
jerrato of Christoval de Virgea, a poet of Valencia." "These three
booki," said the prie*t, " are the bátt that are written in heroic verse
m the Castilian toninic^ and ma; stand in competition with the most
rntowned worki of Italy, Let them be preseired as the beat pro-
ODCtiaDS of the Spaniah mnse," The pnest (rrew tir^ of looÉhw
oftt so muof books, and therefore, wiiliont examination, proposed
that aU the mt shcmJd be bnmed; bnt the barber, haring already
opened one odJed the Tears at Angelica, " I should have ahed tears
myself;" said the- barber, on hearing the name. " had I ordered that
of the most celebrated

CHAPTER TIL

0/ O* teeend mUi/ tf nr good httgla Do» <iiiüoU ¿i la MamtÁa,

Os a sodden, «hile they were thus employed, Don Qnixote began
to (nil aloud, saying, " Here, here, Tslorous knigbts ! Here yoa must
exert the force of your powerful arms ; for the courtiers begin to ñt
the adrantage in the tonmamcnt." All mshinK out at onoe to Qie
place whemje this noisy exclamation proceeded, the sorutiny was sod-
deoly interrupted ; and therefore it is beliered that to the Sn, nnsaen
and onheard, went the Carolea, and Leon of Spain, with the Acts (¿
the Eoqtwoc, composed by Don Lewis de Avila, which, without
donbt, Biust nave been amcoigst those that were 1^ : and, pcriiapo,
had the priest seen them, they might not have undergone so ligprons
a sentence. On entering Don Qoixota's chamber, they found him
already out of bed, and continuing his outcries and ravings, witJi his
drawn sword, laying fiuiouily about him. back-stroke and fore-stroke,
and as bnwd awake as if he had never been asleep. Thay closed in
with him, and by main force conve^ him again to his bed, where,
after he was a little composed, be said, turning himself to the priest,
"Certainlj, my lord arebbisbop TnrpiiL it is a great disgrace to os,
who cmII oursdves the twelve peers, to let the knights-courtiers carry
off the jwlm, witboot more opposition, after wo, the adventurers,
have gained the prize on the three precedmg dava." " Say no more,
~_j -■- " said tne priest ; " it may be Heaven s will to change oi"
' ' ' 'a lost to-d» may be won to-moirow; mind yoi

'■■W,

''onnded I am not," said Don

U SON qnxoTE.

Quizóte : " bnt bnuaed uid battered, most certaiiil7 : for that bastard,
Don Roldan, has poonded mc with the trunk of an oak: and all out
of mere enry, because he sees I am the sole rival of hia prowess.
But let me never more be called Binoldo of Montauban, if, as soon as
I c&D lise frCHn this bed, he pa; not dcarl; for it, in spite of all bis
enchantments. In the meao time, KÍve me some food : for that is
what I am nov most in need of. and leave me to the care of avensin^
myself." Thej complied with his request, and gaye him something
to eat ; be then fell fast asleep again ; leaving them in astonishment at
his madness.

The some nizht the housekeeper set fire to, and bnmt, all the books
Üiat were in the vacd, and in toe house. Some mnst have perished
that deserved to be treasured up in perpetual archives : but their
destiny, or the indolence of the scrotineer, forbade it ; and in them
was fulfilled the saying that "the just sometimes suffer for the
ui^ust." One of the remedies whioh the priest and the barber pre-
scribed at that time, for their friend's maladf, was to wall up the
chamber which had cont^ed his books, hoping that, when the cause
was removed, the effect nii^bt cease; and that they should pretend
that an enchanter had carried room end all away. This was specdilf
Ciecuted; and, two days ijter, when Don Qiiiiote left his bed, the
first thing that occurred to him was to visit his books; and, not
finding tho room, he went up ond down looking for it; when,
coming to the former situation of the door, he felt with hia bands,
and stared about on all sides without speaking a word for some time ;
at length he asked the housekeeper where the chamber wns in which
he kept his books. She, who was already well tutored what to
answer, said to him ; " What room, or what notbine, does yonr
worship look for F there is neither room, nor books, in thishonse; for
the devil himself has carried oU away." — " It was not the devil," said
the niece, "but an enchanter, who eameone night upon a cloud,
after the day of your departure, and, aliirhting from a serpent on which
he rode, entered the room ; what he did there, I know not, but, after
some little time, out he came, flying throngh the roof, and left the
house full of smoke ; and when we went to see what he had been
doing, we saw neither books nor room ; only we very well rtrnember,
both I and mistress housekeeper here, that when the wicked old thief
went awav, he said with a loud voice, that from a secret enmity he
bore to the owner of those books and of the room, he had done a
nusehief in this bouse which would soon be manifest : he told us also,
that he was called the sage Mnnniaton." "Freston he meant to
say," quoth l)on Quixote. " I know not," answered the house-
keeper, "whether his name be Preston or Frilon t all I know is, that
it ended in ton." — "It doth so," tiplied Don Quixote. "He is a
sage enchanter, a great cnemv of mine, and bears me maliee, beeansc
by his still and leaminghe knows, that in process of time, I shall
engage in single combat with a km^bt whom he favours, and shall
Tanquish him, in spite of his protection. On this account he endcn-
Tours, as much as he can, to molest me ; but let him know, from mc,
that tie cannot withataiid or avoid what is decreed by heaven " —
" Who doubts of that f" said the niece ; "but, dear uncle, what have
you to do with these hroilsP ^Vould it not be belter to stay qiiielly
at home and not ramble about the world seeking for better brtnd than
wheoten; without considering that many go out for wool and return
A.OOgIC

HU HECOKII ULir. 35

iboraP"— "O niecfe" aniwered Don (^lixote, "bow little dost thon
know of the matter ! Before thev shall shear me, I will plnck and
tear off the beards of all those who dare think of toacbing the tip of
a single hair of mine." Neither of them would make on; farther
1^7 ; for the^ saw hia choler begin to rise. Fifteen days be remained
at iKHee^ Tery traniinü, discovering no sjmptom of an inclination to
npaX his lata tmUea ; during which time much pleasant oonveitation
púsed between him and his two ncighbonra, the priest and the bar-
ber ; he always affirming that the world stood in need of nothmg so
much as knights-errant, and the reviTai of obivalrj;. The priest some-
timei contraáiot«d him, and at other times acquiesced ; for, had he
not been thus cautious, there would have been no means left to biiog;
bin) to reason-
In the mean time Son Quixote tampered with a labonrer, a neigh-
bour of his, and an honest man (if such an epithet can be giien to one
that is poor), but sballow-biained ; in short he said so much, used so
numv a:%iiments, and made ao many promises, that the poor fellow
resolved to sally out with him and serve him in the capacity of a
squire. Among other things, Don Quixote told him that he ought
to be very ghid t« accompao)' him, for such an adventure might some
time or toe other occur, that by one stroke an island might be won,
vhere he might leave him governor. With tliia and other promises,
Sancho Fanca (for that was the labourer's name) ie(t liis wife and
children, and engaged himself as squire to his neighbour. Don
Quixote now set about raising monex ; and, by tclhng one thing,

fawning another, and losii^ by all. he collected a tolerable sum. He
tted himself likewise with a buckler, which he horrowed of a friend,
and, ]uitchin^ up his broken helmet in the beat manner he could, be
acquainted hia Muire Sancho of the da» and how he intended to set
oat, that be might provide himself with what he tlionght would be
Diost needful Above all, he chawed him not to forget a wallet ;
which Sancho assured him he would not neglect ; be said also that he
thought of Caking an ass with him, as he had a very good one, aad he
was not used to travel much on foot. With regara ki the ass, Don
Qoiiote paused a hltle; endeavouring to recoUect whether any
niighterrant had ever carried a sijuirc mounted on ass-back ; bnt no
instance of the kind occurred to his memoty. However, he consented
that he should take his as9, resolving to accommodate him n

-o- — ,- with

Bhirta, and other things, conformably to the advice given him by the
innkeeper.

All this being aocomidished, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, with-
ont taking leave, the one of his wife and children or the other of hu
honsekeeper and niece, oae night saUied out of the village unper-
ceived : and they travelled so hard that by b«ak of day they believed
themselies secure, even if search were made after them. Sancho
Panza proceeded upon his ass, like a patriarch, with his wallet and
leathern boltlc, and with a vejiement desire t« find himself governor
^ the island which his master had promised him. Don Quiiot«
happened to take the same route as on his first expedition, over the
plain of Uontiel, which hepasscd with less inconvemence than before;
htii was early in the mraning, and the rays of the sun, darting on
tlüm hcHÍzontaUri did not annoy them. Sanidia Pansa now said to

to ftHvet TOUT promüe concerning that bouic isiouu ^ lui i «uui uiu»
liow to Kovem it^ be it ever bo laive." To which Don Qnixote
aii£wered : " Thou moat know, friend Sancho Panza, that it tbs a
cnstom mach in ose amons the knishtB-ernuit of old to make their
aqoires goreraoTB of the islands or finpioms they conquered ; and I
am detennined that lo laudable acnstom shall not be lost through my
neglect ; on the contrary, I resolve to out-do them in it : for tbey,
sometimes, and perhaps, most times, waited till their squirM were
grown old; and when they were worn out iu their Eerrice. and had
endured many bad days and worse nights, they conferred on them some
title, «ooh B3 ooont, or at least marquis, of some vdley or province, of
ynocc or less accormt : bat it yon live, and I live, before six days have
MBsed I may probt^ly win such a kingdom as may have others
depending: on it, jnat fit for thee to be crowned king ol one of them.
Am do not think this any extraordinary matter; for things &11
out to knights by such unforeseen """^ unexpected way», that I mi^
easily give thee more than I pronuse." " So then," answered Sancho
Fanu, "if I were a king, by some of those miracles your worship
mentions, Joan Ontierrez, mv duck, would oome to be a queen, and
my children infimtas!" "WnodoulifsitF" answwed Don Qoiiote,
"I doubt iL" replied Sancho Panza; "for I am verily persuaded
that, if God were t« rain down kin^oma upon the earth, none of
them would ait well upon the bead of Mary Gutierrez ; for yon must
know, sir, abe is not worth two farthings for a queen. The title of
counteaa would sit better upon her, with the help of Heaven and
good fnends." " Recommend her to God, Sancho," answered Don
Quixote, " and he will do what is best for her ; but do thou have a
care not to debase thy mind so low as to content thyself with being
lessthana vioeroy." "Sir, I will not," answered Sancho; "espe-
cially having so great a man for my master as your worship, who will
know bow to give me whatever is most fitting for me, and what I un
best aUe to bear."

CHAPTER Vm.

0/ ÍA« •oatonm* Do% Quixoit't neeta « 0^ drtaJfiü a,%d *ntr-bffoit-
imagitifd adKuHra qf Ote vindatüUi *iA oAer tvtnU tioráy to bt

Enoaobs in this discourse, they came in sight of thirty or forty
windmills, which are in that plain ; and, as soon as Don Quixote
espied them, be said to his sñuire: "fortune dispwea our aStin
better than we ourselves could have desired; look yonder, friend
Sancho Panza, where tbou mayest discover somewhat more than tliirtv
monstrous giants, whom I intend to encounter and slay ; and witn
their spoils we will begin to enrich ourselves ; for it is uiwful war,
and domg Ood good service to remove so wicked a generation from Off

OtS CHAXFION IS jaiBÍTU). 87

Kme an vont to haré them almost of the length of two leagnea."
" Look, sir, answered Sancho, " those which appear ponder are not
giants, but windmillsi and what seem to be arms are the sajb,
which, whirled about by the wind, make the mill-stone go." " It is
very erident," answered Don Quiiote, "that thou art notTersedin
the business of sdventuree : the^ are giants : and, if thou art afraid,
get thee aside and pray, whilst I engage with them in fierce and
Tmeqoal combat." So saying, he clapped spars to his steed, notwith-
standing the dies his squire sent aft^ him, assuring him that they
were certainly windmills, and not giants. But he was so fnlly pos-
sessed that they were giants, that he neither heard the outcries of his
squire Sancho, nor yet discerned what they were, though he was Tery
near them, but went on crying out aloud : " Fly not, ye cowards and
Tile csti& ; forit ias single tnight who Bssaulla yon." The wind now
rismg a littlt the gnat sails began to more ; upon which Don
Qniiote called out : Although ye ahoold have more arms than the
giant Briareus, ye shall ^ for it."

Then recommending hunself dcroutly to his lady Dolcinea, beseech-
ing her to succour him in the present danger, being well covered with
his buckler, and aettint* his lance in the rest, he rushed on as faat
as Eflanante could gallop, and attacked the first mill before him ;
when, running bis lanoe into the sail, the wind whirled it about with so
much violence that it broke the lanoe to shivers, drawing horse and ridei
after it, and tumbling them over and over on the plain, in reir evil
plight. Sancho Panza hastened to his assistance, as fast as the ass
could carry him ; and when he came up to his master, he found him
nnable to stir, so violent was the blow which he and Hosinante had
received in their &11. " God save me ! " quoth Sancho, " did not I
warn ^u to have a care of what you did, for that they were nothing
but wmdmills F And nobody could mistake them, but one that had
the like in his head." "Peace, Mend Sancho," answered Dob
Quixote : " for matters of war are, of all others, most subject to con-
tinual change. Now I verily believe, and it is moat certainly the fact,
that the sage Frrston, who stole away my chamber and books, haa
metamorphwed these aianta into windmiDa, on purpose to deprive me
of the glory of vanqnishing them, so great is the enmity he bears me t
Sat hia wicked arts wüi finally avail but little against the goodness of
my stronL" " God grant it ! answered Sancho Panza ; then helping
him to rise, he mounted him again upon hia steed, which was almost
diaointed.

Conversing opon the late adventnre: they followed the road that
led to the pass of Lapice ; because there, Bon Quijote said, they
could not fail to meet with many and vanous adventures, as it was
much frequented. He was, howerer, concerned at the loss of his
liace; ana, apeakiogof it to his squire, he said: "I lemembEX to
have read that a certain Spanish knight, called Diego Perez de
Tantas, having broken his sword in fight, tore off a hugs branch or
limb from an oak, and performed such wonders with it that day, and
dashed out the brains of so many Moors, that he was aumamed
Machuca ;' and, from that day forward, he and bis descendants bore
the monea of Vargas and Machuca, i now speak of this, because
from the first oak we meet, I mean to tear a limb, at least as good aa

* From ndcAacor, to briiiM or bnak.

worthy to behold them, and to be an eve-witueaa of tr ^ _

BCttrcely be credited." "Heaven's will be done!" quotli Sancho; "I
belieTe all just as you say, sir. But, pray set yourself more upright
in your saddle : for you seem to me to riae sidelm^, owinjr, pcrbnps,
to the bruises received by your fall." " It is certainly so, said Don
Quixote ; " and if I do not complain of pain, it is liceause knights-
errant are not allowed to complain of a^v wound whatever, even
though their entrails should issue from it. " If so, I have nothing
more to say," fjuoth Sancho, " but I should be glad to hesr your
worship complain when anything bQs you. As for myself, I must
complain of the least pain I feel, unl^s this business of not com-
plaining extend also to the aquirea of knight s^errant." Don Quixote
could not forbear smiling at the simplicitv of his squire, and told him
he mia-ht complain whenever and as nmch as he pleased, either with
or without cause, having never yet read anything to the oontniir in
the laws of chivalry.

Sancho put him in mind that it was time to dine. His master
answered tuat at present he had no need of food, but that he might
eat whenever he thought proper. With this license. Sancho adjusted
himself as well as he could upon his beast ; and, taking out the con-
tents of his wallet, he joggM on behind bis master, Tery leisurely,
eating, and ever and anon raising the bottle to his mouth with so
much relish, that the best-fed victualler of Malaga might have envied
him. And whilst be went on in lliis manner, repeating his draughts, he
thought no more of the promises his master had made hini ; nor dia he
think it any toil, but rather a recreation, to go in quest of adventure^
however perilous they might be. In fine, they passed that night
under the sbelter of some trees ; and from one of them the kniiht tore
a withered branch, to serve him iu some sort as a lance, after fixing
upon it the iron bead of the one that had been broken. All that night
Don Quixote slept not, but mmmated on his lady Dulcinea; conform-
ably to tlie ptacticeof knights-errant, who, as their bisforics told him,
were wont to pass many successive nights in woods and deserts,
witiiout closing their eyes, indulging the sweet remembmncc of their
mistresses, hot so did Sancho 5i)ead the njijht; for, his stomach
being full, and not of succory-water, he made bid oneslccpof it ; and,
had not his master roused him, neither the beams of tlie sun, that
darted full in his face, nor the melody of the birds which, in great
numbera, cheerfuUj saluted the approach of the new day, could nave
awaked Mm. At hia uprising he applied again to his bottle, and
foand it much lighter than the evening before : which grieved him to
the heart, for he did not think they were in tfie way soon to remedy
that defect. Don Quixote would not yet break his fast, resolving, as
vc have said, still to subsist upon savoury remembrances.

They now turned ag^ into the road they hod entered upon the
day before, leading to the pasa of Lapice, which they discovered
about three in the afternoon. " Here, fnend Sancho," said Don
Quijote, upon seeing it, " we may plunge our arms up to the elbows
in what are termed adventures. But attend to this caution, that,
even shouldst thou see me in the greatest peril in l.ie world, thou
must not lay hand to thy sword to defend me, unless thou perceivest
that my asaailanta are vulgar and low people ; in that case thou

A.OOgIC

TEZ BZSCÜB. S9

msfest assist me : bnt aLonld they be knights, it ií in nowise agree-
Bble to the Uws of chivair; that thou shouldst interfere, until thou
art thyself dubbed a knight." "I'our worship," wiswered. Sancho,
"shall be obeyed most punctually therein, aud the rather as I am
naturollj' Tcry peaceable, and an euem; to thrustinjc myself into
brawls and squabhlos : but, forallthat, asto vhat rejiards the df^fence
of my ovn person, 1 shall make no great account of those same laws,
since both divine and human law aUaws every man to defend bimscll
against whoever would wrong him." "Tliatl grant," answered Dun
Quixote; "but with resj)ect to giving me aid OKainst knights, thou
must refrain and keep within bounds thv natural impetnosii y . " I
say, I will do so." answered Sancho ; and I will onserre this pre-
cept as religiously as the Lord's day.

As they were thus discoursing, there appeared on the mad two
monks of the order of St. Benedict, mounted upon dromedaries ; for
the mules whereon they rode were not much less. They wore travel-
ling masks, and carried umbrellas. Behind tiiein came a coacli, accom-
panied by four or ñve mea on horseback and two muleteers on foot.
Within toe coach, as it afterwards a|>peared, was a IJiscayau hidy on
her way tojoin her husband at Seville, who was there wailing to
embark for India, where be was appointed to a very honourable post.
The monks were not in her company, but were only travelling the
same road. Scarcely bad Don Quixote espied them, when he said to
his squire; "Either Iamdeceived,or this will prove the most famous
adventure that ever happened; for those blacE figures that appear
youder must undoubtedly be enchanters, who are carrying off in that
coach some princess whom ihcy have stolen; which wrong I am
bound to use my utmost endeavours to redress." " 'ITiis may prove
a worse business than the wiudniills," said Sancho ; " pray, sir, take
notice that those are Benedictine monks, and the coach must belong
to some travellers. Hcarkcu to my advice, sir; have acare what you
do, and let not the devil deceive jou." " I have already told thee,
Sancho," answered Don Quixote, " that thou knowest little concern,
ing adventures : what I say ia true, as thou wilt presently see." So
Baling, he advanced forward, and planted himself in the midst of the
highway, by which tlio monks were to pass ; and when they were so
near that he supposed tiicy could bene what be said, he cried out
with a loud voice : " Diabuhcal and monstrous race ! Either instantly
release the kigb-hom priucesses ahum ye are are carr}'ing away per-
force in that coach, or nrcporc for instant death, as the just cIuislísc-
mcut of your wicked deeds." The monks stopped their muk's, and
Stood amazed, as much at the figure of Don Quixote as at tiis expres-
sions; to which they answered: "Si'iiior cavalier, we aro ueitjier
dialwhcd nor monstrous, but monks of the Benedictine order, travel-
ling on our own business, and entirelyignoront whether any prmeesses
are carried away ia tliat coach by force, or not." " No fair speeches
to mc ; for I know ye, treacherous scoundrels ! " and without waiting
for a reply, lie clapped spurs to Uozinantc, and, with bis lance
couched, ran at the foremost monk with such fury and resolution
th^l, if he had not slid down from his mule, he would certainly h.-ive
been thrown tothc ground, andwonnded too, if not killed outright. The
second monk, on observing how his conirade'was treuli:d, clapped
spurs to the sides of his good mule, and began to scour along the
plniii Ijirhter than the wina itself.

so soH qntzoti.

Sancho Puia, seeing the monk on Üie sKmnd, leaped nimUr tram
bia ass, and ranning up to him, began to disrobe bim. While he was
tbus emplojeJ, the two lacqueys came up, and asked him wbf he was
atrippiug their master. Sanoho told then that thev were his kwfitl
perquisitea, beinff the spoils of the battle wbich his lord Von Qmiot«
bod just won. The lacqaeys, who did not understand the jest, nor
what was meant bjr spoils or battles, seeing that Don Quixote vas
at a distance, speabuig with those in tbe coacb, fell upon Sancho,
threw him down, and, besides leavina him not a bair m hia beard.

Save him a heart; kicking, and left bim stretched on the ground,
Epri?ed of sense and motion. Without losing a moment, the moii
now got upon his mule again, trembling, terrined, and pale as death;
and was no sooner mounted tnan be spurred after bis companion, who
stood at some distance to observe the issue of t)iis strange cncoanter ;
but, being unwilling to wait, the; portued their way, crossing tbem-
selres oftener than if the deVU Had been at their he^ls. In the mean
time Don Quiiote, as it hath been altesdy mentioned, addressing the
lad; in the coach, " Your beaof«oas ladyship may now," said he,
" dispose of your person as pleaseth you best ; for tne pride of your
raTisbera Ues humoled in the dust, orertbrown by my inrincible arm ¡
and, that jou may be at no trouble to learn the name of your deli-
verer, know that I am called Don Quixote de la Mancha, knight-errant
and adventurer, and captive to the peerless and brouteous Dulcinea
del Toboso ; and in requital of the tieaefit you have received at my
hands, all I deaira is, that you would return to Toboso, and, in my
name, present yourselves before that lady, and tell her what I have
done to obtain your iiberty."

All that Don Quiiote said was ov^eard b/ a certain squire who
accompanied the ooach, a Bisoayan, who, finding he would not let it

Boceed, but talked of their immediately retummg to Toboso, flew at
on Quixote, and, taking hold of bis lance, addressed him. in bad
Caslilian and worse Biscayan, after this manner : " Cav^ler, oe^ne !
uid tbe devil go with thee I I swear, hy the power that made me. if
thou dost not quit tbe oooch, thou foHeitest thy life, as I am a Bis-

X." Don ^iiote understood him very well, and with great
.ess answered ; " If thou wert a gentleman, as thou art not, I
would beffwe now have chastised thy folly and presumption, thou

titif ul slave." " I am no jtentleman ! said the Biscavan ; " I swear
y tbe great God, Ihon liest, as 1 am a Christian ; if thou wilt throw
away thy lance, and draw thv sword, thou shalt see how soon the
cat will get into the water : * Biscayan by land, gentleman by sea,
Kentleman for tbe devil, and thou liest ! Now what hast thon to sav ?

Thou shslt see that presently, as said Aprages," answered Daa
Quixote ■, then, throwing down bis lance, he drew bis sword, grasped
his buckler, and set upon the Biscayan with a resolution to take his
life. The Biscayan, seeing him come on in that manner, would fain
have alighted, knowing that his mule, a wretched hackney, was not to
be trusted, but he bod only time to draw hia sword. Fortuu^ely for

* " To earry tbe tat to tho wnter" is a saying applied to one who Is
Tictnrioiu In any ooDtest ; siid it is taken from a gniae in which two oals
aro tied toffothor by tbe tail, thon oarried near a pit or well (luving tbo
wa(«r boiwveo Ibeu), and tlie eM which flnt pulls the other in is doolarod
•onqueiar.

A.OOgIC

BIS MISHTT COMBáT. 31

him, be wm m new the coach u to be able to Kutch from it a
cnihion, tlmt seired him for a ahield; vbo^apon, tber immediatetj
fell to, as if theT had been mortal enemiea. The i«st of the oompanr
would have nuuie peace between them, but it vaa impouible ' for the
Biscafansvore, in his iai^n, that if tney wooJdnot let himftniahtiie
eombat, he woiud nrnrder hia mistrfss, or whoever attempted to pre-
vent him. 'Ihe Isilf of the coach, amazed and t^iúhted at «hat she
saw, ordered the cooctunaa to remoie a little out of the waj, and sat
■t a distance, beholdiu^ the fierce conflict ; in the progress of which
the Siscajwi gave Don Quixote so mighty a stroke on one of hia
shoulders, and above his buckler, that, had it Dot been for his ormoor,
he had cleft him down to the ;rirdle. Don Quixote feeling; the weight
ofthatonmeasurable bloWjCried out aloud, sujónar: "0 lady of my soul!
Dulcinea, flower of all beauty I bdccouc this thy kni^t, wno, to satiefr
thy (¡reat goodness, exposes himself to this penlons extremity !
This inroc^on, the cbawiog his sword, the covering himself well with
his bockler, and rushing with fury on the Biscayan, was the work of
an instant — resolving to venture all im the fortune of a Hingle blow.
^IB fiiscayan perceiving bis determination, reaqlved to do the same,
and theidne waited for him, covering hinóelf well with bis onshion;
bnt he was nnable to turn bis mole either to the li^t or the left, for,
bebtK already jaded, and nnaoonstomed to andi sport, the creature
woum not move a step.

Dos Qoisote, as we before said, now advanced towatds the wary
Biscsyan with his uplifted sword, folly determined to cleave him
■snnder; and ÜM Biscayan awaited him, with his sword also raised,
and guarded by his coshion. All the bystanders were in fearful
SQspcDse as to the event of those prodigious blows with which tbey
threatened each other ; and the lady of t£e coach and her attendants
were making a thousand vows and promises of offerings, to all the
images and places of devotion in Spam, that Qod might deliver them
and their squire from this great pertl. But the misfortune b, that the
autbm* á tlus history, at that ven crisis, leaves the combat unfinished,
pleading, in excuse, that heoould find no more written of the exploits
{< Don Quixote thiui what he has already related. It is true, indeed,
that tiie second undertaker of this work could not believe that so
etnioas a histoiy should have been consigned to oblivion; or that the
witsof LaManich» should have so little curiosity as not to preserve
in their anthires, or cabinets, some memoiials of this famous snight ;
indTunder that persnaai<Hi, he did not despair of finding the conclusion
of this delectable history : which through the favour of UcAven
•ctnaÜT oaine to pass, úd in the manner that shall be &ithf uUy
reoooBted io the fiMlowing ohi^Aer.

UignieUb, Google

BOOK II.

Now let ¡t not be forgotten, that in the preceding part of this liistory,
tre left the valiant Biscay an and the renowned Don Quixote with their
naked sironls raised oa high, ready U> discharge two such furious and
cleaving strokes, as must-iftliey had lighted full, at least have divided
the comtiatauts from head to heel, and split them asunder like a pome-
granate ; but at that criticid moment this relishing history stopped
short, and was left imperfect, without having any notice from the
author of where the remainder might be found. This grieved me
eitramely ; and the pleasure afforded by the little I had read gave
place to mortiAcatioD, wlien I considered the uncertainty there n

>r findii^ the portion that appeared to me yet wantiur of this
aeupntful story. It seemed impossible, and contrary to ell prúse-
worthy custom, that so accomplished a knight should have no sage to

__cordhis UDpirallclcd exploits; for none of those kniglita-erranC who
travehcd in quest of adventures were ever without them ; each having
one or two sasrcs, made as it were on purpose, not only to record
their actions, but to describe their most minute and trifiing thoughts,
however secret. Surely, then, a knight of such worth coiUd not be
BO unfortunate as to waat that with which Platir, and others like him,
abounded. Hence I could not he induced to bcueve that so gallant »
history had been left maimed and imperfect ; and I blamed the
maliguitj' of Time — that devourer and consumer of aL things — for
having either concealed or destroyed it. Uu the other hand, recol-
lecting that some of bis books were of so recent a date as llie " Cure

renowned Spaniwrd, Don Quii

of Manchegan chivalry ! Tlic first who, in o'

milons times, took opon him the toil andcx , ._

redress wrongs, succour widows, and relieve those damsels who, with
whip and palfrey, and with all their virginily about them, rambled
np and down from mountain to mountaiu, and from vaUey to vallev ;
for damsels there were, in days of yore, woo (unless overpowered b;
A.OOgIC

IHX PISCOTXBT. S3

same mÍBomnt, or lerd obwn, with tiatchet and steel cap, or some
prodizious giant), at the eipiratioa of fourscore j-eara, mid without
ever sleeping during all that time beneath a roof, went ta the grave
virgins as spotless as the mothers that bore them. Now, I say, upon
these, and man; other accounts, our gallant Don Quixote is worthy of
immortal memory and prajae. Nor ought some share to be denied
even to me, forthetahour and pains I have taken to discover the end
of tliis delectable bisloiy ; though I am very sensible that, if Heaven
and fortune bad not beifrieuded me, the world would have still been
without that diversion and pleasure which, for nearly two hours, an
attentive reader of it cannot fail to entoy. I^ow the manner of find-
ing it was this : —

As I was walídne one day on the Exchange of Toledo, a boy offered
for sale some bundles of old papers to amercer; andas I am fond of

'■ " I- -. t - 1 J -. - 1 -.! - - jnaboutthe strcel

__...,.. . . f those the boy w. _

selling, and perceived them to lie written in Arabic. But not under-
standing it myself, although I knew the letters, 1 immediately loolted
about for some Moorish rabbi wbo could read them t« nie ; nor was
it difficult to find such an interpreter; for had I sought one to explain
some more ancient and better laoguage, I should have found him
there. In fine, my good fortune presented one to me, to whom I
communicated my desire, and, putting tbe book into his hands, he
opened it towards the middle, and, having read a little, began to
Iwigb. I asked him what he smiled at, ana be said that " it was at
eomething which he found written in the margin, bv way of annota-
tion." rdesircd him to say what it was ; and, still lau^m^be told
me that there was written on tlie margin as follows : " This Didcinea
del Toboso, so often mentioned in his history, was said to have been
the best hand at salting pork of anv woman in all La Mancha."
When 1 heard the name of Dulcinea ael Toboso, I stood amazrd and
confounded ; for it immediately occurred to me that those bundles of
paper might contain the history of Don Quixote.

With this idea, 1 pressed him to read llie beeinning, which he did,
and, rendering extempore the Arsbic into Caatilian. said that it began
thus; "The history of Don Quisote de )h Mancha, written by Cid

Hametc Ben Engeli. Arabian historiograpber." Much discretion was
necessary to dissemhle tbe joy 1 felt at hearing the title of the book ;
and, snatcbing the other part out of tbe mercer's bands, I bo-iglit tbe
whole bundle of papera of the boy for half a real ; who, if he had been
cunning, and bad perceived how eager I was to have them, might
well liave promised himself and really carried off, more than sii reals,
W the bargain. I retired immediately with tue Morisco, througn
tbe cloister of the great church, and requested him to ttanskte tor
me tboee ^pera which treated of Don Quixote, into the Castiliaa
tongue, without, omitting or adding anything: offering bim in pay-
ment whatever he should demand. He was satisBed with fifty poimos
of raisins and two bushels of wheat, and promised to translate them
faithfully and expeditbusly. But, in order to facilitate the business,
and also to maie sure of so valuable a prize, I took him home to my own
bouae, where, in little more than six weeks, he trajislated the whole,
exactly as will be found in the following pages.

In the first aheet was portrayed, in a moat lively manner, Don

Qniiote's ctnabat with theBiacayau, m the attitude airead; described ;

' A.OOgIC

U IK» qmerx.

their sirords raised, the one coTered with his bockler, the oflier vith
his cushion, and the Biscavan mule m coireotljr to the life, that ran.
miglit discover it to be a liackney jade at the distance of a bovsbot.
The Biscafiui had a label at his leet, on nhicb Tas written " Don
Sancho de Azpetia;" vrhích, without doubt, must have been hia
name ; and at the feet of Koeinajite was another, on which was
■writtái "Don Quixote." Bozinante was admirahlv delineated: so
long and lank, bo lean and feeble, with so sharp a oaokbone, and so
like one in a galloping consumption, that jou might see plainlj with
what judgment ana propriety the namooi Resinante had been gives
him. Close by him stood Sancho Pama, holding his ass by the halter;
at whose feet was another scroll, whereon was written " Sancho
Zancas ;" and not without reason, if be was reallv, as the ttaindnK
represented him, paunch-bellied, short of stature, and ^indle-anankea;
which, doubtless, gave him the names of Pama and Zancas; for the
history calls him by each of these surnames. There ven some other
more minute particolars observable; hut they are all of little impor-
tance, and contribute nothing t^ the faithful narration of the history;
tíiough none are to be despieed, if true. But if any objection be
alleged against the truth of this hjstory, it can only be that the author
was an Atabiaji, those of that nation oeini^ not a little addicted to
' ■ ; though as Ihey are somucbourenemoes, it maybeconjectnred
'le rather fell short of, than exceeded the bounds oí truth. And,

Inn^: th
Ulat hei£

n fact, so it seems to have done ; for when he might, and ought to,
üave launched out in the praises (¿ «o excellent a knight, it appearsi
as if be had been careful to pass over them in silence ; an evil aot ana

^e design ; for historians onght to be precise, faithful, and unpre-
judiced ; sod neither interest nor fear, hatred nor affection, should
make them swerve from the way of tnitli, whose mother is history,
the rivtl of time, the depositary of great actions, witness of the past,
example to the present, and monitor to the future. In this bisloiv
jov will certainly find the most entertaining thin^ imaginable ; ani^
if wanting in anything, it must, without question, be owing to its
inñdel author, and not to any defect m the subject. In short, the
second part, according to the translation, began in this manner ;

The trenchant bUdes of the two valorous and enraged combátanla,
being brandished aloft, seemed to stand threateniog heaven and earth,
and the deep abyss: such was the cotirage ana gallantry of ibeir
deportment. The first who ' discharged his blow was the choleric
Biscavan, which fell with such force and fury that, if the edge of his
sword had not turned aslant by the way, that sins^le blow liad bees
enough to have put an end to this cruel conflict, and to ail the adven-
tures of our kmgtit. But good fortune preserving him for greater
thinzs, so turnea his adversary's sword, tnat, though it alii-hced on
the left ahoidder, it did him no other iiurt than to disarm that side,
carryiug off, by the way, n great part of his helmet, with half an ear ;
allwhich with tiideous ruin fell to the ground,leavinghimiu a piteous
pU?ht.

6oud Heaven! who is be that can worthily describe the rase that
entered into the bronst of our Manclie^n, at seeii^ himself thus
tren'ed ! Let it siiffit*, that it was sueli that, raisins liimself afresh
in his stirrups, and gi'asiung his sword faster in both hands, he dis-
chir.-cd it with such furv upon the Biscayan; directly over the cusiiion.
and upon his head, whicn was nnpiotecteil, that, as if a mountain had

BB ItUllUf. II

Men apcn hba, 1^ Uood bemn to fpih ocrt of bis noÉtiilt, Ilia montb,
tsni his eara : Bsd he aeeiaea h if be wu just falling from his mule,
i^ieh donbtleM be must bare cbne, bad not he Uiti East bold of bis
neck : but, noCwithstKBding that^ be lost faig stimips, aod then let n>
Us bold; while the mole, oightOMd li the terrible stroke, beg«n to
rnn about the field, snd at tvo or tíirte plongcs laid ber master flat
OB the gmimi. Don Oainte stood hxiküig ob irith grot catnmess,
■ndieem; binfaU,ho ie&ped from hit horMvitb mneh, agilitf nii
op to hisL and cbiipiBg the point of bis sword to his cj^es, bid bun
yi^, <» M Tonld out off his huuL The Bisecan was so atumied
that ne opnld itot answer a word ; and it would We gone hu^i with
him (so blinded with rage waa Dob Quixote) had not tEe ladies of the
ooac^ who, till now had been witnenins lbs combat in great dismay,
tvproaohed him, and oaneetly entieated that be wonld do them the

néat kindncH and fañmr to span t)K life of their squire. Don
Qaizoto answend, with mndi K^mmtr and graritj': Assuredly,
finr ladies, I am moet willing to grant yon yonr raqneat, but it must
be npon a certain ooedition and oompaot; which is, that this knigM
shall pnmiiM to repair to the town of Toboso, and present bimselj^
fran me, hefon the pendesa Donna Dideinea, that slie may dispose
of him Moording to ber pleasure." The terrified and discoDsolste
lady, witkat aossideriiipwhat Don Quixote required, or inquiring
who Dolcinea was, pronused him that ber squire should jierform what*

CHAPTER X.

BEiOBn this time, Sancho Panra bad got npon his legs, somewhat
roogUy handled br the serrants oí the monks, and stood an attentive
spectator during the combat of his masttr, Don Quixote ; beseeching
God, in his heart, that he would be pleased to give him the victory,
nd that be might hereby win some island, of which be miglit make
Iñm go»emor, according to his promise. Now, seeing the conflict at
an end, and that his master was ready to mount again upon Roiinante,
be came up to bold his ttirrop ; but before he had mounted, fell upon
his knees oefore him, then, tskine hold of his band, and kissing it,
said to bim, " Be pleased, my lortT Don Quixote, to bestow upon me
the EOTomment of that island which vou have won in this dreadful
battle ; for, be it ever so bi«, I feel in myself ability sufficient to

rem it as wall as the best that ever governed island m the world,"
which Don Quixote answered, "Consider, brother Sancho, that
this adventure, and others of this nature, are not adventures of
islands but ot croas-vravs, in which nothing is to be gained bnt •
broken' bead, or the loss' of an ear. Have patience ; for adventure»
will offer, whereby I may not only make tiiee a governor, but som»

88 noir Quixon.

thing fet gttsttrc." Sancbo returned him abandmce of thanks, and,
kissuu; bis hand ftgfún, and the skirt of his armouTj he helped him
to (cet upon Uozioante ; then, mountiiiK his hss, he followed bia
master, vbo, goia^ off at a round pace, withoot taking his leave, or
speaking to those in the ooach, immediatalr entered into an adjoining
ifood.

Saneho followed him as fast as his beast could trot ; bat Rozinants
made such speed that, seeing himself left behind, he was forced to oaU
aloud to his master to stay for him. Don Quixote did so, checking
Boüinante bf the bridle, until his weary squire overtook him; who,
as soon as he came near, said to him, " Methinks, sir, it would not b«
amiss to retire to some church - for, considering in what condition
you have left your adversary, I sbould not wonder if they give notice
of the fact to the holy brotherhood, who may seize us ; and, in faith,
if they do, before we get out of their clutches we may chance to sweat
for it," " Peace," qnoth Don Quiiote; "for where hastthon evei
seen or heard of a kiiight-errant bavins been brought before a court
cf Justice, boivever numerous tlie homicides he may have committed P"
" I know nothing of jour Omecils,'' answered Sanclio ; " nor in mx life
ever cared about them ; only this I know, that the holy brotherhood
have somethinK to sav to those who flgbt m the fields ; and as to the
Other matter, I shall nave nothing to do with it." " Set thy heart si
rest, friend." answered Don Quixot* ; " for I would deliver liiee out
of the hands of the Chaldeans, much more out of those of tha holr
brotherhood. But tell me, on thy life, hast thou ever seen a more
valorous knight than I apon the whole face of the earth ? Hast thou
read in history of any one who baa, or ever had, mwe apirit in Stack-
ing, more breath in noldim; out, more dexterity in wounding, or mora
address in overthrowing ? " The truth is," answered Saneho, "that
I never read any hjst«nr at all ; for I can neither read nor write : but
what I dare affirm is, that I have never served a bolder master than
vonr worship, in all the days of my liie ; and pray God we may not
be called to an account for this boldness, where 1 just now said, nliat
I beg of your worship is, that you would let your woond be dressed,
for a great deal of blood comes from that ear : and I have some lint,
and a little white ointment, here in my wallet." " All this would have
been needless," answered Don Quísote, " had I recollected to make
a vini of the balsam of fierabrás ; for with one single drop of that,
we might have saved both time and medicine." " What vial, and what
hnlsam is that?" said Saneho Panza. "It ia a balsam," answered
Don Quixote, " the receipt of which I hold in memory ; and he who
possessci it need not fear death, nor ^iprehend that any wound will
be f^l : theietbre, when I ahall have made it, and given it to thr
care, all thou wilt have to do, when thou scest me in some battle cletl

nicety, before toe blood is concealed, place it npon the other half that
shall remain in the saddle, taking especial care lo make them tally
exactly. Iben shalt thou give me two dinugfata only of tin balsam

ward the government of the promised island ; and only di . , _
poi'ment of my many and gooa services, that yoar worship will give
me the receipt of tlu* extraordinarj UqaoiifoiXdanBar it will any-

Tbere tetcii mon thu two retís an oonoe , and I vant no Kore to
past tbáa life with oedit and comfort. But I should be glad to know
whether the making of it will cott much ? " " For less than Ifarea
Mala thoa m^est make nine pints," anairered Dou Quiiote. " Sinner
that I am ! " eielaiiiKd Sandio, " why does your worship dditr
Baking itF" "Peace, friend," answered Don QuiioM; "for I
intend to leach thee greater secrets, and to do tJÍoe greater kind-
nesses : bnt at present, let ns set about the oure ; for my ear paiui
ne more than 1 coold wish."

Sancho took »ome lint and ointment ont of his wallet j bnt, when
Dob Qaixote peroeired that his helmet was broken, he was ready to
mnstarii maci; and, Ifninxhis hand on his Bword, and raising his eyes
to heaven, he said : " Iswear, by the Creator of all things, ^d by all
that b contained in the four kolv efangeliats, to lead liie life that the
great marquis of Mantua led, when be Toved to reveille tlie death of
Us nephew Valdovinos ; which was, not to eat bread on a talileclotli,
nor again go home to his wife, and other things, which, thougli I do
not now remember, I ctmsider as here eipreráod, until I have token
entire veu^nance on him wlio hath done me this outrage ! " Sancho,
bearinK this, said to him, " imy consider, Siimor ]>uii Quixote, that
if the knight bos performed what was enioined upon him, nanidy, to
go and present himself before my lady Dulcinea del Toboso, he will
ueQ have done his duty, and deservea no new punishment unless he
commit a new crime." ITiou hast spoken and remarked very justly,"
•nawn^d Bon Quixote ; " and I annul the oath, so far aa concerns
tbe taking a fresh rerenge ; but I make it, and confrmi it anew, as to
leading the life 1 have mentioned, until 1 shall take by force, from
iome knight, another heimet, eanally good. And think not, Sancho,
that I am making a smoke of straw ; for I well know whose example
1 shall follow ; Hnce precisely the same thing h^pened with regard
to Mamfcnno's helmet, which oost Saoripante so dear." " I wish your
worship would send such oaths to the devil," said Sancho, " for they
■re verj hurtful to the health, aud prejudicial to the oonsoienca
Beeidea, pny tell me, if pcrciuutce tor ntany days we should not light
on a man armed with a helmet, what must we do theu? MiLit the
oath be kept, is spite of so many dilficulties and inoonvenienoes, such
as sleeping in your clothes, and not sleeping in any inhabited plac<L
and a tliouaana other penances oontaioed in the oaui of that mad old
leDow the marqitis of Mantua, which vour worship would now
Rvive t CouideT, tliat none of these roaos are frequented br armed
laen, but earricm and carters: who, so far from wearing helmets,
perh^ never so mueb as heard of them in all their Uves." " Thou.
art mistaken in this," said Bcai Qdhote ; " for before we shall have
piased two hours in these cross-wBT?, we shall have seen more
armed men than came to tbe siege ot Albraca, to carry off Angelica
the Fair." "Well, then, he it so," quolh Sancho; "and Heaven
grait Ds good success, and that we mar speedily get this island,
vhicb oosts me ao dear ; no matter, then. Low soon I die." " I have
already ttdd thee, Sancho, to give thyself no concern i^)on that account ;
for, if an istud cannot be had, thore is the kingdom of Dcrrniork, or
tiiatofSobradtBa,whichwillfittheelikcarinBtothefioger. Besides, aa
they ars upon l^ffñvjírMt, thou shottldst prefer them. But let us leave
ibis to its own time, and see if tbouhast anythiufcforuBtoeatm Iby
Mist; weviUtlwngoinqneatof aame eakle, where we m^* lodge
, , . .A.OOgIC

S9 SOX qjnxoii.

this ni^^ and make the balsam that I told theeof ;for IdecUiethat

year pajus me exceedtngb." " I hate here an onion and a piece
cheese ; dud I know not haw jaany crusts of bread," said Saacho;
"butthejare not eatables fit for sovdianta knig-ht as yonrwor-
■hip," "How little dost thou underetand of this matter!" answered
Don Qniiote, " I till thee, Sancho, that it is honourable in knighla-
erraut not to eat once in a month ; and, if the; do taste food, it mnst
be what first oflers; and tbisthoawouldst have known hsdst thou read
as many histories as I have done ; for, thoug-h 1 jiave perused many, I
uerer ^et found in them any aooount of kniRhis-errant taking food,
unless it were by chance, and at certain sumptuous banquets prepared
expressly for them ; the rest of their days they lived, as it were, upon
smelling. And tiiough it is to be presntneii they could not snlñist
without eating and satisfying all other wants— as. in fact, they were
men— vet, since ther passed most part of their lives in wandering
througb forests ana deserts, and without a oook, their nsnal diet
must have consisted of rustió viands, such as those which thou hast
now offered me. Therefore, friend Sancho, let not that trouble tlieo
vhidi eivcs me pleasure : nor endeavour to make a new world, or to
throw Knight-eirautry oS its hinges." " Pardon me, sir," said San-
cho ; " for, as I can neiiher read nor write, as I told yon before, 1 am
entirely unacquainted with the mlee of tlie knightly profession :
but, henceforward, I will furnish my wallet with ail sorts of dried
fruits for your worelup, who are a knight ; and (or myself, who am
none, I wul supply it with -poultry, and othin things of more sob-
Stance." " I do not say, Sancho," replicd Don Quixote, " that
knights-errant are obliged to eat nothing but tko dried fruits thou
bast mentioned, but that such mas their ordinary snstenance, toge-
ther with certain herbs they found in the fields, which were to
them well known, as they are also to me." " It is a good thing
to know these sama herbé," answered Sancho; "for I am inclined
to think we shall one day have oocaaion to make nse of that
knowledge."

He now bronght oat what provisions he hod, and ther ate toge-
ther in a vcrypeooeable and fnendly manner. But, being desirous to
•eek out some place wherein to rest that night, thev soon finished their
poor and dry meal, and then made what liBst« they could to reach
some village before night; hut both the sun and their hopes failed
them uesr the huts of some goatherds. They determined, therefore,
to lake UD their lodinn? with them ; but if Sancho was grieved that
they could not reaca a village, his master was as much rejoiced to lie
'in the Open a' " ' ..■!'. ,._...

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTER XL

Of -altat Ufü Do» QmiraU vitk tie jaathmti.

No one eonldbenwre kindly receiTed than was I>on Quixote l)yH»
pjatherds ; and Sancho, having (iccommadated Roiinnnte and bis ass
m the best manoer he was able, pnraued the odour emitted by certain
nieces of pM't flesh Ibat wem boiliinf in a kettle on a fire; and,
though he woold wiiliniflj', at that instant, have tried whether they
*ere ready to be transferred from the kettle to the stomach, he for-
bore doinK so, Bs the goatherds themselres took them olT the fire,
Ukd. s^r«ndin? some sheepskins on the ground, very enecdily aerreJ
tip thetf rural mess, and, with much cordiality, invited them both to
part&ke of it. Six of them that belong to the fold seated them
selves itniiid the skins, having hrst, mth rustic compliments, requested
Don Qniiote to stat himself upon a trongh with the bottom iipwards.
placed on parpóse for him. Don Qnixote sat down, and Sancho
renuined stanain}? to serve the cup, which was made of horn. His
master, seem? him standinjir, said to bini, " That thou mayest see the
intriasic worth of knight-enaotry, and how speedily those who exercise
my ministry whatsoever belonging to it tnav attain honour and
estimation in tha world, it is my will tliat thou M seated here hv my
áde, in company with these ftood people, and become one ana the
same thinir with me, who am thy master and natural lord ; that thoa
eat from oti my plate, and drink of the ssme cup from which I drink ;
for the same may be said of knight-enautry which is said of lovo,
that it makes all things equal." " I give you a grent many thanks,
sir," said Sancho: ''bat let me tell your worship that, provided I
have victnali enon^ I can eat as well, or better, standing, and alone,
than if I weie »eat«i close by an emperor. And, farther, to tell you
the truth, what I eat in a comer, without romphmenta and cere-
monies, tnongh it were nothing but bread and an onion, relishes
better than tui^eys at other men's tabke, where I am forcea to chew
leisurely, drink Uttle, wipe my month often, neilhcr sneeze nor coiuiii
when I nave a mind, nor do other things which may be done when
alone and at liberty. So tbat, good sir, let these hononis which your
warship is pleased to confer npon me, as a servant, and adherent of
knight -errsintry (being squire to your worship), be enchaneed for
something of more use and profit to me : for, though I place ibera to
account, as received in full, I renounce them from this time forward
to the end of the world." " Notwithstanding this," said Don Qtiiiot«,
"thoa slutlt sit down- for whosoever humbleth himself, Qod doth
eialt;" and, pollina: hun by the arm, he forced him to sit down next
him. The goatherds did not understand this jargon of squires and
imiahts-emat, and therefore only ate, held their peace, and stared at
their guests; who, with mneh satisfaction and appetite, swallowed
down piece» as Iwie as their fists. The service of flesh being flnisbeil
they spread npon the akins a (freat ouantity of acorns, togetter with
bu a ahecae, hatdet Uum if it had been made of mortar. The hont
,, .A.OOgIC

40 JíOS QinxOTE.

in the mean time stood not idle ; for it went roimd so often, now full,
now empty, like the bucket of a well, that they presently emptied one
of the two wine-baps that hnng in riew. After Don Quixote had
satisfied bis hunger, he look up a hEtndful of acorns, and, looLng on
them attentively, gave utterance to expressions like these : —

"Happy times, and happy iu(es, were those which the ancient*
tinned tiie Golden Age ! not hecause gold, so prized in this our iron
age, was (o be obt*incd. in that fortunate penod, without toil ; but
because thev who thfn lived were ifrnorant of those two words. Mine
and Thine. In that blessed age, all thinp were in common; to provide
their oTdinary susteoancc, no Other labour was necessary thaa to
raise their hands and take it from the sturdy oaks, which stood
Lberally inviting them to taste their sweet and relishing fruit. The
limpid fountains and mnnii^ streams offered them, in magnificent
abundance, their delicious and transjiarcnt waters. In the clefts of
rocks, and in hollow trees, the industrious and provident bees formed
their commonwealths, offering to everj' hand, without interest, the
fertilp produce of their most delicious toil. The stately cork-ftees,
impelled by their own courtesy alouc, divested themselves of their
lignt and expanded bark, with which men beeao to cover their
houses, supported by rougii tiolcs, only as a dcfenw; again-st the
inclemency of the heavens. All then was peace, all amity, all ooo-
cord. Tlie heavy coulter of the crooked plough bad not vet dared to
force open and search into the tender bowels of our first motiier,
who, unconstrained, offered, from every part of her fertile and spacious
bosom, whatever might feed, sustain, and deligiit those, her ehjldren,
by whom she was then possessed. Then did the simple and beantcoua
young shepherdesses trip from dale to dale, and from hiE to hill, their
trfsscs sometimes plaited, sometimes loosely flowinit, with no more
eiotliing than was necessarv modestly to cover what modesty has
always required to be concealed ; nor were their ornaments like those
now in fashion, to which a value is given by the TjTian purple and
the silk so many ways martyred ; but, adorned with irreeii dock-leaves
and ivy interwoven, perhaps they appeared as splendidly and elegantly
decked as our oourt-ladies, with all those rare and foreign inventions
which idle curiosity hath taupht tlicm. Then were the amorous con-
ceptions of the soul clothed in simple and sincere expressions, in tbo
same way and manner tbcy were conceived, without seeking nrtilicial
phrases to enhance their value. _ Ñor had fraud, deceit, and uitdice
intermixed with truth and plain-dealing. Justice maintained her
proper bounds, undisturbed and unassailed by fitvour and interest,
which now so much depreciate, molest, and persecute her. Law was
not yet left to the inteniretation of the judge; for then there was
neither cause nor judge. Mnidcns and modesty, asl said before, went
about alone, without feat of danger from the unbridled freedom and
lewd designs of others; and, if they were undone, it was entirely
owing to tneir own natural inclination and will. But now, in these
dkteslable ages of ours, no damsel is secure, f hoi^h she were hidden
and inclosed in another Inbj-rinth like that of Crete ; for even tliere,
throngb some cranny, or through the air, by the zeal of cursed iinpor-
tunitv, the amorous pestilence finds entrance, and they are there
wrecked in spite of all seclusion. Therefore, as times became worse,
end wickedness increased, to defend maidens, to protect widows, and
to relieve orphans and persons distreesed, the order of knight-ertautt;
, , . .A.OOgIC

«DTEirrcBi vm tbx ooateeods.

_ie without being aware oí tlus obligatiun, it ia bat reasonable that
1 should rctnm joo my wnnnest acltnowledirnienU."

Our knight made this loi^ taanm^ue (which might well havct been
mared). because the acorns the; had put before him reminded liim of
tlio goldeii Hge, and led him to make that unprofilahle discourse to
the goatherds : who, in astonishment, listened to him, without saving
a word. Sancho also was silent, devourins the aoums, and makiug
fregaent Tisits to the second wioe-bag, which was hanciug upon a
eOTX-tree, in order to keep the wine cod. *

I)oaQniiot« spent more time iu ticking than in eating, and, supper
being aver, one of the goatherds said, "That joai worship, signar
fau^t-srant, ma; the more tml^ say that we cuiertain vou with a
readf good-will, one of our comrades, wlio will soon be here, shall
sine for yoat pleasure and amusement. He is a very intelligent lad,
and deeply enamoured ; aborc all, he can read and write, and play
upon the rebeck as weli as lieMi can desire." The goBlhcril naa
scarcely said this when the sound of the rebeck niached their ears,
and, presently after, eame the musioian, who was a youth of an
agreeable mien, about two-and-twenty years of age. His comrades
au^ him if he had supped ; and he having answered in the affiruia*
tive, one of them said, If so, Antonio, you may let us have the plea-
sure of hearina yon sing a little, tkit tins gentleman, our guest, may
see, that even here, among woods and mountains, there are some who
are skilled in music. We have told him of your great abilities, and
irish von to show títem, and prove the truth of what we have said ¡
and therefore I entreat von io sit down, and sing the ballad of your
lore, which your uncle, the curate, composed for vou, and which was
■o well likod in onr village." " With fjl my heart," replied the
jonth ; and, without further entreatv, he sat down upon the trunk of
•n old oak, and, after tuning bis rebeck, he began to aing in a moat
agreeable nuiiner, as follows : —

ANTONIO.

" Yes, lovely nymph, tbou art my prise ;
1 txnst tha coDqncet oi thy boart,
Though Dor the tongue, nor qwaklng eyo.
Have yet reveal'd the latont smart.

Thy wit and sonso aasure my bt^

In tliflm my lovo's success I see ;
Kor con be be utilbnuniito

Who dares svoir hia Uame &r Ihea.

It thou frovn'd, alas 1

And givea my hopes a omel uhook ; %

Then did thy soul seem lorm'd of brass.

Thy snowy bosom of tiie rock. ^

But in the midrt of thy dlsdun.

Thy sbsrp reja-ooches, cold delays,
Hope fhim Mund, to «aae my pain.

The border of herrolM di^lays.

IKW QIUXUl'B.

If love, SI ahaphardi want to sa7.

Be gmtlaiGaH nod courWsr,
SooDuruouibiOUlia,

My pauioD will rewarded h».

And if obseqnioni dutj pnid.

The gratoful hairt can navor move.
Mine sure, my &ir, mar well persuade

A due iMurn, end claim thy love.
Por, to leem plonslng in thy sight,

I dnaa myself with studium core,
And, in mv beat epjjnrel dight,

H; Sunda; clothea on Munday wear.
And sbcpbcnla «ay I'm not too blani^

For cloanly ilross uiid spruce attire
Preserve alii'e love's wnnUin flnmo.

And geotly Jan the dying fire.
To please my &ir, in MMiy ring

I join the dAneo, and aportiie play ;
And ott beneath thy winüoír ling,

WhBD firat the cocli proclain» iba day.
With rnpture oD each charm I dwell,

And aBily ifrtad thy lieauty's fame :
And sLill my tonguo thy praiso shall tall.

Though euTy «well, or inaUoe blame.
Terem of tbe Berrocal.

WbsD onco I pmlsoil ymi, said in sptto,
Vour mistress yon an an^rel call,

But a mere apt Is your dcliffht.
Thante to tho bUE-lo'a artfid chre,

And all the graces counterfeit ;
Thanks to tie felie and curlftl hair.

Which wary Love himself might cheat.
I swore 'twas faina ; and said she bed ;

At that her anper Hercclv rose ;
I boi'd tho clown that took her side.

And how I box'd my fairest knows.

I court thee not, Olalia,

To graliiy a loose desire ;
Hy love b chaste, without alloy

Of wanton wish, or luatfiil fire.
The church luuh silken chorda, tliat na

Consaudng hearts in mutual bnnda :
If thou, Diy CUT, it* yi^e wilt try.

Thy iwain its ready ca)>tive Mandi.
If not, by all the aahila ! swear

Oa these bleak moon tains Mill to dwell,
Kor ever quit my toUaomi care,

But for tbe oloiitor and tlie aeU."

. I, Google

Hete ayiei Üte «MUMffd*! aov, ud Pon Qaixote Ki]iiest«d bini
to nug sometliias ebe ; bat Suh^ Panza vss of mother mÍDcl,beÍii^
iDMe ai^osed lo ilaep than to hear bailada ; be therefore «aid to hn
maater. Sir, ymi bad better consider where jon are to nat to-nij^t ;
Ibr the labour vhich tbeae bmest imai audereo all day «ill not Buffer
them to paaa the ni^t in singing." " I tutderataDd thee, Sancha"
insvered Dod Qnixote ; " for it is Tenerident that TÍ£Íts to the
wine-bag require to be naid rather with sleep than mnsio." " It
Teliahed well with oa all, Uessed be God," answered Sandio. "'' '

not deny it," replied Don Quinóte; "my thvself down where thou
wilt, but it ti more becoming those of mf profeasion to watch than to
sleep. Howerer, it would not be amiw, Sancho, if thon wouldit
drees this ear a^ain; for it puna me more tban it ooght." Sancha
did as he was desiroi ; and one of the goatljerds seeing the wound,
bade him not be concenied about it, for he would apply such aremedy
as should qnickly heal it ; then taking some rosemai^-leavcs, which
■bounded in that place, he chewed th^ ru. and mixed with them a little
pit, and, lajiuB them to the ear, bound them on venr fast, assuring
htoi tiiat no other salre would be necessary, wbich iaaeed proved to

CHATTER Sn.

Wl^ a etrtai» goalkeid rttatMJ to Aou wAa leen itiA Do» Qitixolt.

Soon after this there anired another young tad, laden with pro-
TÍsions from the villas i " Comrades," said he. "do you know what

is passing in tbe village?" "How should we knowF" answered one
of then). " Know then," continued the youth, " that the famous shep-
herd and scholar, Chirsoslom, died this mormng ; and it is rumoured
tbat il was for lore of that deriiisb girl MarceK daughter of William
the rich ; she who rambles about these woods and fields in the dress
otashepherdess." "For Marcela; say you?" quoth one. "For her,
I say," answered the goatherd: "and the beet of it is, he has ordered
m his will that they should bury him in the fields, like a Moor, at the
foot of Üie rock, by the cork-tree fountain, which, according to report,
and, as they say, he himself declared was the very place where he
fitst saw her. He ordered also other things so extravii^nt that the
clergy say they must not be performed ■ nor is it fit that they should,
for they seem to be heathenish. But his great friend Ambrosio, the
atadent, who acoompauicd bim, dressed also hke a shepherd, declares
that the whole of what Chrrsostom enjoined shall be eiecuted : and
upon this the village is w in an uproar : but hr what I con (earn,
they will at last do what Ambrosio and all his mends require ¡ and
ttvmorrow they come to inter him, with great solemnity, in the place
I mentioned ; and, in my opinion, it will be a sight well worth aee-
il^ ; at least, I shall not fail to go, ahhouEh I were certain of not
returning to-morrow to the village." "We will do the same,"
answered the goatherds ; " and let us cast lots who shall stay behind,
to loci after the goato." " Yon say well^ Pedro," quoth another :
^bnt it will be needless to make use of this exiwdient, for I will
,, .A.OOgIC

U i»OK qnizoiz.

remain for yon &11 ; and do not attribnta tbis to lelf-denMl or want of
cmioaitT ia me, but to the thoTD which stack into n^ foot the other
dor, ana hinden me from welkiag." " We thank you, uevertheleas,"

answered Pedro.

]>on Quixote reqnestcd Pedro to give him some aeconnt of the
deceased mitoand tiie sbepherdeas. To which Pedro answered, "that
all be knew was that the deceased was a wealthy gentlemni, and
inhabitant of avillane aitnate among tliese mountains, who bod studied
many vean at Salamuica; at the end of which time he rctomed home,
with the olunkcter of a rery learned and well-read pemm : particu-
Inrljr, it was said, he understood thescience of the st^,and wnit the
Bun and moon are doing in the sky; for be told us punctually the
dipee of the aun and moon." " friend," aaotli Dun Quixote, the
obscuration of those two luminaries is called an eclipse, and not a
c)i])se." Bnt Pedro, not regarding nioeties, went on with his story,
(toying, " He also foretold when the year would be plentiful oratarel.
"ótenle, you would say, friend," quoth Boo Qunote. "Sterile or
Btorel," answered Pedro, " oomes all to tie same thing. And, as I
wa« saying, Jiis father and friends, who ftsve credit to his w<»ds,
becaoie very rieh thereby ; for they followed his advice in eTcrything.

oil; the three following, there will not be adn:^." "lliis si
they call Astrology," said Bon Quiioto. "I know not how it is
called," replied Pcaro, " but 1 know that he knew idl this, and more
too. In short, not many months after he came from Salamonoa, on a
certain da^ be ^ipeored dressed like a shepherd, with his crook and
sheepskin jacket, having thrown aside his scholar's gown ; andw'

and the reKgions plays for Corpus Chriati, which the boys of the vil-
lage represented: ajid evcrvbody said they wci« nKist excdlent.
When the people of the village saw the two scholais K> luddenly
habited like shepherds, they were amazed, and could not get at the
cause thnt induced them to make that strange alteration in their dresa.
About this time the father of Chrysostom died, and he inherited a
lai^ estate, in lands and goods, flocks, herds, and money, of all which
the roitth remained absolute master ; and, indeed, he <frserved it oU,
for he waa a very good companion, a charitable man, and a ñ^d to
those that were good, and had a face like any blessing. Afterwards
it cAme to be known that he changed his habit for no other purpose
but that he might wander about tiiese desert placee after that shep-
herdess MaroeltL, Mdth whom, as our lad told you, he was in love.
And I will now tell yoa (for it is fit you should know) who this yoong
slut ia ; for, perh^ts, and even without a perhaps, yon may never
have heud the like in all the days of ^our life, thnugn you wereaa old
as Samo." " Sarah, you mean," replied Doa Quixote, not being able
to endure the goatherd's mistaking words. " Sarna will do," answered
Pedro ; " and, sir, if yon must at every turn be oorrwrtiiig my words.

"I «t>r then, dear sir of my soul," quoth the g<oati>a(l, " that, la
onr Tillaáe, tfañe tbs a &rmer Kill ñehex thsn the fetber oí ChiTsos-
tam, oiJIea William ; on whom Frovidence bestowed, besidee great
vealth, a daagbter, whose mother, the must respected woiDin m all
our ootmtiT, oieti in girin^ her birth — I think I see her now, with
that Koodir presence, looking as if she had the aun on one side of her
«ad uie moon on the other : and, above alL sbe waa a notable house-
wife, and a friend to the poor : for which I beberé her sool is at this
very moment in heaven. Her husltand William died for grief at the
death of ao good a wife, leaving bis daughter Marcela, young and rich,
«nder the care of an uncle, a prieEt, aud the mírate of our villai^.
TSie girl grew up with so much beauty, that it put na in mind <rf her
mother, who had a great sbar^ yet it wasthongiit that the dau^ter
would surpass her ; and so it fell out ; for when she came to be four-
teen or fifteen years of i^e, nobody beheld her without blessing Ood
for making her so handsome, and most men were in love with, asd
ddstracted for her. Her uncle kept her both carefully and close :
nevertheless, the fame of her extraordinary beauty so spread itself
that, pKtlj for her person, partly for her great riches, her nnolc waa
^iphed to, solicited, aud iiuportuoed, not only bv tltose of our own
vüUga but by many othu^ and those of the oetter sort, too, for
Bevenu le^ee round, to dispose of bur in marriage. Sut he, who,
to do him juatice, is a good Christian, though he was desirous of dis*
posing of her as soon as she waa maniageablc, yet would not do it
without her twnaent. Not that he had an eye to any advantage he
might make of the girl's estate by defeTring her marriage ; and, in.
good truth, this has been told in praise of the good priest in more
DODi^iaiiiefl than one in our TÜlage. For I would have you to know,
nr-errant, that, in these little places, everrthing is talked of, ana
tverythiDg censured- And, take my word tor it, that a clergyman,
cspeoiall; in oonntry towns, must be over and above good who makes
allhis ponshiouers apeak well of hun."

" That is true," said I>oii Quixote : " but proceed, for the story is
excellent ; and yon, honest Fedro, tell it with a good grace." " Ma;
the grace of tho Lord never fail me I which is most to the purpose.
And yon must further know," quoth Pedro, "that, thongh (he uncle
made tbeee proposals known to his niece, and acmtainted her with the
qualities of each one in particular, of the many that sought her hand,
adrising her also to many and choose to her liking, her only answei
was ÜtÁ she was not ao disposed at present, and that, being so young,
■he did not lea iierself able to bear the burden of matrimony. Uer
onde, aatósSed with these seemingly just excuse», ceased to importune
her, and widted till she ven grown a little older, vhen she would
ksow how to chooeo a companion to her tuate. Fur, said he—and ha
taid well — parents ought not to settle their children against their will.
But) behold 1 when we least thought of it, on a certain day the coy
Ifwréda appears a sliepherde^. aud, without the oonsent of her uncle,
■nd against the eutrcatiea of all the neighbours, would needs go into
the fidds, with the other country bases, and tend her own flock.
And now that she appeared in pnblic, aud her beauty was exposed to
■11 beholders, it is impossible to tell you how many wealthy youths,
1, and farmers, have taken the shepherd's dress, and winder

^ont these pUins, makmg their suit to her. Une of whom, as tdu
hwe already beea told, was the deceased ; and he, it is said, rather

herself np to this &«« and imconflned w&y (rf lire, ood witb sc , ..

ntber no reserre, she has gires the lea^t colour of easpicion to the
prejudice of her modesty and discretion : no : rather, so great and
strict is the iratoh she keeps over her honour, that of all those irho
serve and solicit her, no one baa boasted, or can boast vith truth, that
she has givea him the least hope of obtaining his wishes. For. thoagh
she does not fly or sbuo tbe compan; and conversation of the shep-
herds, but treats tbem io a coorteons and frieiidl}' manner, yet, when
any one of them Tentares to discoTcr his intention, though it be
as iost and holy as that of marriafe, she casts him from her as out of
a slone-boTT. And by tbia sort of behaviour she does more mischief

■od inolÍBe them to serve and love her ; but her disdain and frank
deling drive them to despair; and so they know not «hat to say to
her, and can only eicUim against her, calbni her cruel and ungrate-
ful, with sacfa other titles as plainly denote ber charw^ter ; and, were
you to abide bere, air, awhile, ^ou would hear these mountains and
TalJey* resound with the complaints of tbose rejected wretches that
yet follow her. Ther« is a place not far bence^ where about two dozen
d tall beeches grow, and not one of theni is without the name of
Mareda written and enisraved on its smooth baric ; oversome of them
is carved a crown, as if the lover would more ciearlv «press that
Marcela deserves Ñid wean the crown of M human Waty. Here
sighs one shepherd; there complains another; here are heard amoroiu
Bonneta, there desiunring ditties. One will pass all the boors of the
night seated at the foot of some rock or tree, where, without having
dosed his weeping eyes wrapped up and lost m Ihonght, the sun finda
him in the morning ; wiiilst another, giviog no tmce to his sighs, lies
Bizetehed on the bnrtiing sand in the midst of the most sultry noon-
day heat of sommer, sending np his complaints to all-pitying Heaven.
hi the mean time, the beautiful Marcela, free and nnconcemed,
triumphs over them all. We who know her wait with impatience to
see hew all this will end, and who is to be tbe happy man that shall
subdoe ao intractable a disposition, and enjoy so incomparable a
beauty. As all that 1 haverelated is certain truth, I can more readily
believe what our companion told na concemins the cause of Chrysoe-
tom's death; and therefore I advise you, sir, not to fail being to-
morrow at his funeral, which will be very well worlh seeing: for
Chrysostom has a great many friends ; and it is not half a let^e
henoe to the place of interment appointed by himself,"

" I will certainly be there," said Don Quixote " and I thank you
for the pleasure yon have given me by the rocilal of so entertaining
a story. " 0," replied the goatherd, " I do not yet know half the
adventures of Marcela's lovers; but to-morrow, perhaps, we shall
meet by the way with some sbcplterd, who may toll us more ; at pre-
sent it will not be amiss for you to go and sleep under some roof, fot
tbe cold dew of tbe nigbt may do harm to your wound, thon^h the
salve I have put to it is Eucb that you need not fear any trouble from
it." i^ncbo I'ansa, who, for his part, had wished this long-winded
tale of tbe goathcrii at tlio devil, pressed his mailer to lay bimiplf
down to sleep in Pedro's hut. Heaidso, and passed the rest of the
night thinking of his lady Dulcinea in imitation of tbe luTcn d

A.OOgIC

ÁDTXNIUKB WITB iSS

||«Tnfla Sucho took np his loágiiur between Rosiiuuite tad faú rs^
-where he slept, not Uks k diswnled lover, Imt like s num who hsd
bectt giievonjsly kicked.

CHAPTER Xm.

MoRHiBG aetnáj had dawned throngh the bslmmies (rf the east,
when flve of the six goatherds ^ up and went to swaka Don
Quixote, whom they aiked whether he oontinned in his leEolutini of
going to see the foBunu interment of Cbrrioitom ; for, if so, they
vonlo bear him oompuir. D<hi Qoixote, who denied nothing more,
nose, aod ordered Ssncao to saddle and pamiel immediateU : which
he did with great expedition ; and with the same despaton thej all
set out OB their josraey.

The; had not gone a quarter of a league, when, upon crossing a
pathway, they saw ail sheph«ds advanoiiw towuds tbem, elad in
jadceta of hiack sheepsktn, with garlands ot cyprcss and bitter rose-
mary on their bead» i each of them hiTing in his hand a thick holly
dub. There came also witb tbem two Bentlemen on horseback, weU
equipped for trarelling, who were attended by three lacqneys on foot,
n heu the two putiea met, tbey oonrteously saluted each otJier, and
finding upon inquiry tbat aSl were piooeeding lo the [dace of bnrial,
the» continued uieii joumay together.

One of the horsenvo, addressing bis companion, said, " I think,
SigDor Vivaldo, we shall not repent havinp stayed to see this famoua
interment', for, «ithoat doubt, It will be an extraordinary ^ight,
aecordhig to tbe strange accounU tbeae shepherds hare eiven oa of
the deceased sbepberd and ninrdering shepherdess." " I think so,
too," answered Vivaldo; "and so far from regretting the delay of
tHte day I would stay fonr to see it." Don Quixote asked them what
they had heard of Marcela and Cbrysoatom f Tlie trareller said they
bad met those sheplierds earl^ in tlie morning, and that, obstrring tbeir
moomfui apparel, they bad inquired tite oausp, and were informed of
it by one of tbem, who told tbem of the beauty and singularity of a
certain shepherdess, callrd Marceht, and the loves of many that wooed
her; with the death of Cbrvsoatom, to whose bnrial tbey were going.
Id fine, be related all that Pedro had told Don Quixols.

This discourse ceased, and another beftan, by Vivaldo askiag Don
Quixote what minht be the reason that induced bim to go armed, in
that manner, throueh a country so peaceable? To which 'Doa
Quixote answered: The profession I fellow will not allow or suffer
me to go in any other manner. Revels, banquets, and repose, were
invented for eñeminaje courtiers; bat toil, disquietude, and arras
alone were designed for those whom the world calla knighls^jmint,
of which number I, Ibongb nnworthy, am tlie least." Aa soon as they
heard ihis, theydl perceived his derangement, but, in order to dis-
DOTer the UAtore of his madness, Vivaldo asked him what he meant
A.OOgIC

by knights-ernuit. " Have you not rend, Mr," ausvered Don

Ouhate, " tbe aonab and Uistoriea of England, vhereia nie recorded
tne fniuous expluits of King Arlliur, whom, in our Costilian ton^e,
TFe peTiietuall^ called Kin; Artus F of vbom there exists an Bn<^ient
traailion, uuivcrsally received oyer the whole kingdom of Great
Brituiu, that he did sot die. but that, by mwic art, he was tnuis-
fonued into a taven; and toat, in proeeas of time, he ihsU reign
again, aiid recover hia kingdom and sceptre ; for which reason it
cannot be proved that, from that IJlne to this, any EnelishniRn hatli
killed a raven. Now, in this «ood kiiw'» time was instituted that
renowned order of chivalry, entitled the Knifhts of the Hound Table ;
and the amours related of Sir Lancelot of the Lake with the Queen
GincbiB passed einctl^ as they are recorded: that honourable duenna
Quiutauiona being their mtdialric and confidante : whence originated
inat well-known ballad, so much admired here in Spain. 'Never was
knight by ladies so well served as was Sir Lancelot wW he c«me
from Britain :* with the rest of that sweet and cLaxming account of
his amours and expbits. Kow, from that time, the order of ehivKlry
has been eiteudiiig and spreading itself throngh many and divers
parts of (be world ; and among those of the profession distinguished
and renowned for heroic deeds was the valiant Amadia de Gaul, with
all bis sotts and grandsons, to the fifth generation : the valorous
Felixmarte of Uyrcania : and tlie never-enougb-to-be-praised Tirante
the White : nay, even almost in our own tines, we have seen, heard,
and conversed with, the invincible and valoróos knight Don Belianis
of Greece. This, gentlemen, it is to be a kni^rhtOTTuat ; and the order
of chivalry is what I have described. To this order, as I said before,
1, fhotigh a sinner, have devoted miself ; and iha same which those
knights profess, do I prcJcss also : therefore am I trareUing through
these solitudes and deserts in quest of adventures, witb a determined
resolution to cfipose my arm and my peraon to Ae most perilous that
fon.une may present, in aid of the weak and opptMsed."

By this discourse the travellers wure fiilt oonvinoed of tí» dis-
ordered state of Don Quixote's mind ; and tbe species of insanity
with which tbey perceii^ kim to be affected struck thorn with the
same surprise that all felt upon first discovering it. Vivaldo, who
was a man of discernment, and withal of a gay dispoution, to enliven
the remainder of their journey to the faneral moantain, resolved to
give him an opportunity of pucsning his ertracagant diaoonrae. He
therefore saii U> him, In my opinion, sir knight^nant, vou have
enj^agcd in one of the moat austere profeasiona upon eartn ; more
rigid even tlian that of the Carthosian monks." " That order of
monks may be as rigid," answered Don Quixote; " bnt that it is
equally necessary to tlie world 1 am much mdincd to doubt ; for, to
say the truth, the soldier who executes his captain's orders does no
less than the (sptain himself, who gives him the orders. I would
say that tLe religious order, in peace and trannuillitr, implore Heaven
for the good of Uie world ; but we soldiers and knights really execute
what they pray for, defending it with tbe strength of our arms and
the ed^ of our awords ; not uader covot, but in open Geld ; expoeed
to the mtolcrable beams of the summer'a ami, and tbe chilKng frosts
of winter. Thus we are iteaven'a ministera upon earth, and the arms
bv which Qod eiecutee his justice. And as the affana of war, and
tbose appertaining to it, Eannot be put in esecution without toil, paiiv

A.OOgIC

SÜTIBB 01 A UltOBT-BBKUIT. 49

and Isbcnir, «o tiity vho ptofesa it nrast, onqnestionably, endure more
Ulan those wbo, m peace and repose, are employed m praying to
Heaven to asaiat tbem, and who can do hat little for tbemaelvea. I
mean not to say, nor do I entertain onch a thoaght, that the stnte of
tlie koight-emnt ii as good as that of the relizions recluse : I ^Fould
only inier, from vhat I safer, tbat it ia, doabtless, more lahoiioua,
'hiraty. more wretched, more

0 doiotbut that the knights-

m the course of their lives; it some of

-,..,» by the valour of tlietr arms, in good

trntít thev paid deaHy for it in blood and sweat : and, after all,
had they oeen without the assistance of enchantera and s&sn, their
bopes would have been fruatnit«d and their wishes unaf tained.

I am of the same opinion," replied the traveller ; " but one thin?,
among many others which ^pear to me to be censurable in knigliia*
errant, is that, when they are prepared to engase in some great and
perilous aftventtue, to the manilest hazard of their lives, at the
Bumeul of attack they never think of commending themselves to
Ood, as everj (Anstiau is bound to do at snch a crisis, but rather
oonnnead themadTea to their mistresses, and that with as umch
fervonr rad devotion as if they were really their Goti : a thimr which,
to me, savoiua of pagaaiam." " Signor," answered Don Quixote,
"this oaB by m nteans be otherwise; and the knisht-errant who
should act in any other manaer would digress much tnm his duty :
fw it it a noeived nazim and custom in chivalry, that the knigbt-
enaat, who, on 1^_ pcont of engaging in some great feat of anna, hna
faiB lady before hini, must tnm hia eyes fondly and amorouslr
towards bar, as if impIarÍDg her favour and protection in the hozara-
ons enterprise that awaits him; and, even if nobody hear him, he

L __ 1- 1 — 1 l:- i„.L 1 ijjpjj jjg g —

nemblé examptes in history. Ñor is it thence t^ be inferred tliat
Úej DBKlect conunaiding tnemsdres to God : for there is time and
Mpwtnnity enongh to do it in the conrae of the action." " Not-
irtfliriMiling all tbat," replied the traveller, " I have oue scrapie still
ramainiñgilor I have often read that, words rising between two
faiight«-onnt, and choler beginning to kindle in tSem both, they
tnm llieir borm round, and^ taking a taq^ compass nbont the field,
JDunedialelf owonnter at fall apeeti; and, in the midst of their career,
commenduiaiiselvefl to their mistresses: what commonly happens in
the enoouBter is, tbat ooe of them tnmbles beck over his horse's
emnper, pieiced tbrongh and thronrii by hia adversary's lance ; and
if the otíúr had not laid hold of bis norae's mane be must have fallen
to the ground ; — now I etumot imagine what leisure the deceased had
to Gcmmend himself to Ood, in the courae of so expeditious a work.
Better had it been if the words he spent in commending himself to
his lady, in Uie midst of the eareer. had been employed as the duties
<tf aOiriatiaii reqnite; partienlarly as I imagine tiiat aQknights-
enant have not ladiea to oommena themadves to; because they are
not all in lore." "^ñtatounot be," anawered DonQaiiote: "I say
Uiere cannot be k Imi^it-emiit witbost a nistreaa : &r it is as esscu-
tial ai^ as natural for them to be enamoured ea for the skv to have
ftan : wid, moat nertainly, no history exiats in which a knight-ensnt
is to be íanivl yritiemt an amonr : for, üom ti» very dienmstance oí
,, .A.OOgIC

his beins vithont, he ^rould not be acknowledged u a 'l^titimale
Iniigiit, DQt a bastard vho bad entered the fortress of ebivalrr, not bj
the rate, but over the paJes, like a thief and robber." "Nerertbe-
les»," said the traYellcr, " " ' . ■ - . . , . -

^ "--' Don Galaor, L ._ .._ ._.

Í articular mistresa, to wbom he ii_„
lug which, he waa no lesa esteemed, buu wu • -oi/
vahant and íamous knighi." To which our Don Quixote answered ;
" Signer, one swallow makes not a summer. Moreover, I know ttiat
Don Galaor was in secret Tcry deeply enamoured, besides llie fteneral
love that be entertained towards all whom he tboo^ht handsome ; a
pronensitj natural to him, and which he was unable to control. But,
m abort, it ia well ascertained tbat there was one whom he had made
mistresa of his devotion, and to whom he often commended himself,
but Tcrj; secretly ; for ujwn this quality of secrecy he espeoial^f
▼alned himself."

" If it is essential that every Imight-errant be a lover," said the
traveller, " it may well be presumed tbat you are yourself one, being
of the profession; and, if yon do not pique yourself upon the same
secrecy as Don OaUor, I earnestly entreat yon, in the name of all
this good company, and in mj own, to tell ns the name, country,
quality, and b^uty of your mistress, who caonot but account her-
self bappy that all the world should know that ahc is loved and
served Dv so worthy a knight." Here Don Quixote breathed a deep
eigb, ana said : " I cannot positivelv affirm whether that sweet enemy
of mine is pleased or not that the world should know 1 am het
servant : I can only say, in answer to what yon so very courte-
ously inquire of me, that her name is Dulcinea ; her country Toboso,
a town of La Mancha; her qnalitv at least th^ of a princess, since
alie ia my queen and sovereiñi lady; her beauty more than liuman,
since in her all the imposible and ebimerical attributes of beauty
which the poets ascribe io their mistresses are realised : for her hair
B gold, her forehead the Slysian field», her eyebrows rainbows, het

S^B BUDS, here cheeks roses, her lips coial, her teeth pearls, her oeck
baater, her bosom marble, ber hands ÍV017, her wbit¿ieB3 snow; and
her whole person without parsllel."

" We would fain know, replied Vivaldo, " her linear mx. and
family." To which Don Quixote answered ; " She is not of the
ancient Roman Curtü. Caii, or the Sciptos, nor of the modem (3olon-
nas or Ursints ; nor of the Moneadas and Reqnesenes of Catalonia ;
neither is she of the Rebellas and Villauovas of Yaientia ; the Pala-
foxcs, Nuzas, Bocabertes, Corellas, Luna^ Alagones, Urreas, Fozes,
and Gurreas of Arragon ; the Cerdas, Manriques, Mendozaa, and
Guzmans of Castile; the Alencaatros, Pallas and Menesea of Por-
tugal : hut she ia of those of Tobrao de la Mancha ; a lineajre,
though modem, is yet such as may give a noble bMinoing to the
most illustrious families of future a^; and in this let no one con-
tradict me, unless it be on the conditions that Zerbino fixed onder the
arms of Orlando, where it said :

' That knigbt alone thaw armi ihall mrm,
Who dani Orlsndo'a prowMS provv.' "

Bu&iu. or OBKnoBtoK, Gl

fitougk to m; tiie tnith, no such appellatioQ hath till nov erer
lettcoea mj ears." " Is it possible yoa shonld nerer have heard it ! "
exdaLned Don Qoixote. All the party had. listened with rnhX
«ttestioB to this dialogoe ; and eren the goatherds and shepncrds
perceived Ae esceuive djstractioiL of oar knight, Sancho Pmikb
skine beliered all ttat his master Mud to be tnic, knovine who Jie
WBi,aadh»vÍBg heea acquamted with him from childhood: but he
bad sOMe doubts as to that part which concerned the fair Dulcinea
del Toboso ; nerer haiing heard of such a name, or such a princess,
•itbodgb ho liied 80 near Toboso.

Hug convening, the; proceeded on-irhen ther discerned, thnm;^

a deft between two high mountains, ^Knit twenty shepherds coming

down, all clad in jerkins of black wool and crowned with garlands,

aome oí which, as appeared aflerwanfe, were of yew and some of

'308 flowera

Those who

aoid at the

e interred."

just as tho

sharp piek-

jck. After

to take a

rewed with

hirty yews

iy nnhappy
d me, that
here it wta

sired tobo

irelterB, he
udinswith
ich UeaTen
Jib body of

irtcfij;, and
nagnifloent
ul without

_ , . second to

none in all that was onfortnnate. He lovedT and was fJ>borred :
he adored, and waa aoonied : he coñrt«d a savage ; he solicited a
itatne ; he pursued the wind ; he called ^ond to the desert ; he
was the aUve of ingiatjtude, whose recompeoae was to leave him, in
the middle of lis career of bfe, a prey to deatli inflioled by a cert^n
shepherdess, whom be endeavoured to render iuuuortal in the
"' '' A.OOgIC

H son QDIXOTK.

memories of men ; as these papers you alt looking Bt would suffl'
cientlf demonstrate, had be not ordered me to commit tbem to the
tlftmes at tlie «ame time that bis body iras deposited iu the earth."
" Yon would tben be more rigorous and cruel to them," said Vivaldo,
" than their master himself ; for it ia neither just nor wise to fulUl
the will of him who commands wbatia utterly unreasonable. Augustus
Ciesar deemed it wrong tü consent to the eiecutiou of what the divino
Montoau commanded in his wilt ; therefore, Signor Ambrosio,
although yon commit your friend's body to the earth, do not commit
his writings also to oblÍT¡on| and if be has ordained lU:e a mail
ftggriered, do not you fulfil like one without discretion: but rather
preserve these papers, in order that the cnieltv of Marcek may be
Btill remem bered, uid serre for an eiamjilie to those who shall live in
times to come, that they may avoid falling down the like precipices;
for I am acquainted, as well as my companions here, with the story
of this your enamoured and despairing friend ; we know also your
friendship and the occasion of hli death, and what he ordered on his
deatli-bed: from which kmentable history we may conclude how
rreat bas been tbe cruelty of Majcela. the love of Chrysostom, and
the sincerity of your friendship ; and also team the end of those who
run headlong in the path that dchrious passion presents to their
new. Last night we heard of Chrysostom s death, and that he was
to be interred m this place : led, therefore, by curiosity and com-
passion, we turned out of our way, and determined to behold wilJi
oar eyes what had interested us so much in the recital; ao^ in
retoru for our pitv, and our deure to give aid, had it been possible,
we beseech jvu, oh wise Ambrosio — at least 1 request it on my own
behalf— that you will not burs the papers, but allow me to take somo
of them." Then, without waiting for the shei^erd's reply, 1m
stretched out his hand sod took srane of those that were netireat to
him: upon which Ambrosio said; "Out of ejvuity, si>nor, I will
consent to your keeping those you have taken; bnt if you expect
that I shall forbear ouming those that remain, you ore deceived."
Vivaldo, deairoQS of seeing what the papers contained, immediately
opened one of tbem, and found that it was entitled, "The Soiig
of Despair." Ambrosio, bearing it. said ; " liiis is the last thin^
which Uie unhappy man wrote ; and that all present may conceive,
■ignor, to what a stale of misery he was reduced, read it aloud ; for

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTER XIV.

Wítrtat au Tthtaried tXt deipairing vertea of the deteaiat lAtphtrd,
witk alier lutaeptcííd «tab.

OHEYSOSTOlrS SONG.

Snici, mul mud, y*a fmt* me to prooUini
Fram olime to olimo the iiianiph* of ;aur «corn,
Ln hell iteell tnopir* bq- tortur'd braaot

wilixil . _ . .

Al ouco to tc! mj griefa and thy eiplu
Bear, than, and Ssten with atfantiva ee
Not to hannoiui ., "

Fotch'4 trom tbo bottom cf my lab'rii
ToeoM, inspiUof tlwc^ my raging «i

Ths lloD% roar, the howl of mtdnlglit woIto,
The scaly seirent's bio, the mao'i oroak.
The bunt of fighting irliKb tk&t Tex the main.
The widov'd ml and tattled ^«intÍTe moan,

With aU tiw diB of hell-« nbmal orsw.
Prom mj grieved nol fciih Ijeue in oos Bouad —
bsniw my senasa all <xmíi¡iBd and loeC
For ahl no common langoago oan expresa
Tha cmel pains that tüiture my sad hoatt.

Tat kt not Bcho b««- the mournful aomidi
To vhare old Tagna rolla hli yellow sauda.
Or Bfltia, cntwn'd with olivu, poura hia Soodj
£nt here, 'midat roeka and precipiocs deep.
Or to obacnrs and idlent Talea removed.
On sbon» by buman imtatepa never trod,
Wbaro the gay sun ne'er Uta lüs radiant orb^
Or with th' envenom'd fhosofaavngo batata
That mnge Uie howling wildenieB lor fbod.
Will I prochtbn theatnryofmyinMa—
Poor pririloge of grief ! — whilst eohoea faoarM
Catch the aad taky and Ipnad it round the world.

Mntaam givM naatn ; aoapisiani, croe or miaa,

Cotom the impotJent mmd : wHh nuur stroke

FaD jealoDiy dátroys ; the pangs of abeenoo

If 0 loTar oan aupport ; nor Smust hope

Can dlNip«te tike dread of cold neglect; ^nolr

Aad ^ídA the thtIcku tonnoDt* T «arlura,
No ray ol !»« e'sr daitad on my Mini
Nor irónld t bope ; ratber in den dopalr
Will 1 nt dotm, and. brooding i/or mr giiafi
Vow «mlutiiij: ftlacnoe &cm bar lif^

Cmi Imp* ud fear tt onoa tlw nbI vtmrni.
Or bwe nbMit «itb nrer oanaa <d {ear
Stun I, to (hot ontfHghtAil jttloiiiy.
Close my ud «rea, when er'ry pang I IM
Pnaanti Qm hidsona pbautsia Co iny view ;
What wrMch so cradnlotB but nrast cmhnioa
ClatnHt with open aran, lAsn bft bdtolda
JMiddn RTow'd, nNtddeai naHnd.
iMd bntk ItaeU aoB<ran«l ta a Ue I
O, (nul t jrant of Dm realm «f lOTB,
Fierce JeakHUf, vm with a iwonl tUi baa^
Or Umm^ Diidui^ a twisted oonl beatos.

My dMUí** thjr MnM ^017 and tky prid>k

nn,
Coan, an ye phanlaai of the dark ahjM t
Bitag, Tantalni, Iby miiitiiignlah'd tliirat.

woo, IxioD, hrh

NorMthetoUiagili

r , ...ivCoOl^lc

irtpf t.i,

Poor TOUT mihad gn«& into thú breast,
And in low munuurv un^ mad obaequiv
(If a despalriTi^ wretch wioh rib» may claim)
O^vr mj ooid Limba, dony'd a wiadias-iihool*
And let tbe triple porter of tbe ihades,
The riatar lurieA, and chúueraa diro»
With notes of woo the moumlul chonu K>i>i.
8i)ah tunerol pomp alone beflu the wrstoli
B; bMoty Hot untdmel; to the giSiTaL

And thon, mj wmg, aad chOd at my deaptir.
Complain no mora ; but, 111109 mj wretchBd &t*
ImproTM her hopplM' lot who gave thee birth.
Be all thy KiTTOira buried in my tomb.

CbiTSMtom's son; mt nnch uppmnd by tlioie wbo heard it ; tmt
be «ho read it nid it did not ceem to wree iritk the aocoont he had
beard of the reserve Mid goodaeM of Mucek; for Cbryaostom eom-
plaiuiait ofjealovBy, nispicion,aiMl alwenM, all to the prdodice of
her eiedit and good name. Amhrosio, beiui well aoauunted with the
most hidden tKougkta of bis friend, «aid, in reply : To utisfy jioii,
aguat, OB this potnt, I mnat infoim you that, vtün my unhaiipy mend
«rote thi* BOBg. he wv abeemt from Maréela, fnña «horn he had
vtdnntanly buisned biiDMlf, to tiy whether absóue would hare upon
kirn its oninaiy effect; and, a* an ahaent lover ía disturbed by every'
shadow, so was Chiysostom trameoted with oaiueleas jealousy and
■asptcioBa ; thoa tlie truth of all wbi(4i fome t^orts of Maiixla'a
goodness remains nnimpeBched; and, eiceptíos that she is oroel,
•omeirtiat snogant, and very diMainñil, envf itsuf neither o«uht nor
eaneharae berwidianydefert." " Yon are n^it," answered Vivaldo;
who, as Be was gctng to nad another of tbe Jitters be had saved from
tbe Sre, wM intempted by a wonderful visión (for sneh it seemed)
that sodde^ presented itself to their sight ; for, on the top of the
nek mder wfaioh they were djonng tbe grave, aj^eared the shep-
berdess henelf, so beuttuU that herHMwaty even snrpsased the fame
of it. Those who had uver seen hec nnnl that time beheld her in
silence and sdmiiatum-, Md tbose wlto had ben aMutomed to the
■igjit of iKr wen now strpristd at her ^weanuwe. Bnt as soon as
JUibroaiD had espied ber,be said, with sdignation, "Comestthoa, O
fierce basÚik of these mountain^ to see iriiether the wonmls of this
wieteb, whom thy cmdty hss «eprived of Gfb, will bleed afresh at
thyappeannceForcomestthon to tnamtib in tíw cmel exploits of
thy iiilMiw^n dispDUtk»!— wbicb from thai eminenee thoa baoUest^
aa the nendess Nero ^aeed OB the flames of burning BmneF or inso-
lently to trample ob tlus onhappy ewse, as did tfae mipious danghter
onthat of her btber Targoinr" Tell na «uicUy for what thon
earnest, or what thorn wooldat have ; for sinee 1 know that Chrysostom.

_l^- 1^ - ■ _^_..^ J:.,.!..»^ «L...» T ^n 4.L. .... 4L.4. .11 tl^fXAA nkn

m fi"-' of Tollia, not

Eft SON QCIIDTE.

ttoned," ansvered Karcela ; " but to vindicate ranel^ and to declare
hov uweasoDable are tlioae who blaine me for their own sofferings,
or for the dealh of Cbrysoatom ; and therefore 1 entreat yon all to
hear me with attention; for I need not spmd modi time, nor use
müDj words to convince persons of sense. Heareii, as fou say, made
me handsome, and to such a degree that mj beauty impels yon invo-
luntarily to love me ; and, in return for this passion, jou pretend that
1 am bound to love you. 1 know, by the underataníüng whioli God
has given me, that whatever is beautiful is amiable; but I cannot
' conceive that the object beloved for its beanty is obliged to return
love for love. Besides, it may happen that the lover la a deformed
and nsly person ; and being on that account an object of disgusi, it
woida seem inconsistent to say because I love you for your beauty,
you must love me although I am ugly. But supposing beauty to be
equal, it does not follow tbat inclinations should be mutual ; for all
beauty does not inspire love ; some t^eaee the sight without cap-
tivating the affections. If all beauties were to eiamour and cap-
tivate, the hearts of mauldnd would be in a continnal state of
perplexity and confusion, without knowing where ia ñi; tor beau-
tiful ohjccts being infiuito, the sentiments they inspire must also be
infinite. And I have heard say, true love caouot be divided, and must
be voluntary and uiuxHistraiiied. If w, why woold yoa have me
yield my heart by compidsion, urged oviy becitnse yon say you love
mc? for, prav toll me, if Heaven, instead of giving tne beautv, had
mademennsigntly, would it have been justinmetohaveooBiplained
that you did not love mc F Besides, yon must ooisidra that the
beauty I possess is not mjr own cboioe; hot, such as it ii. Heaven
bestowed it freely, unsolicited by me ; and. as the «iper does not
deserve bhune for her sting, though she kills with it, because it is

Even her by nature, as little do I deserve reprehenskni for being
mdsome ; lor beauty, in a modest woman, ii like fice or a sliarp
sword at a distance ; neither doth tJie one burn, nor the outer wonw^
those that oome not too near them. Hononr aod virtue aie orna-
ments of the soul, without which the body, though it bo really beau-
tiful, ought not to be thought so. Now, if modesty be one of the
virtnes which most adorns and beautifies both bq<^ and mind, why
should she who is loved for being beantiful, part wiui it to gratify the
dcsúes of him who, merely for his own idMÚtn, endeavoon to destroy
it f I was bom free, and, that I might lire fre^ I chose the soUtnde
of these fields. The tarees on theee mooMtatm are my eompanions'
tlie clear waters of these brooks are my mimrs ; to the trees and
the waters I devoto my meditations and my beauty. I am fire at a
distance, and a sword afar off. Those whom my person has enamoured,
my words have undeceived ; and, if love be nourished by hopee, as I
^ve none to Cbryso£tom, nor gratified thcee of any one else, surely
It may be said that his own ^tstinaoy, rather than wy cruelty, de-
stroyed him. If it be objected to me tliat his intentions were
honourable, and that therefore I ou^ to have oomplied with them,
lauswer that when,ÍQ this very pUce^ieie Ida gnve it now digging,
he made known to me his favQuraUe aentimenta, I told him that it
was my resolution to live in perpetnal oolitodc^ and tíiat the earth
alone should enjoy the fruit of my weluaion, and the apoüs of n^
beauty; and if lie, notwithstanding all tlüs íaakatM, viñild ohati-

Mtdr penerere K>>n^ hop^i aixl <aü agaiiut the wind, u it sat-

Bising that he sbonld be orerwheliiied in the enlf of hia mm hUy t
I bad beU him m suspense, I bad been fuae ; if I had comphed
vilb hnn, Ihad acted contrary to ray better purposes and resolutions.
Bo persisted, attbo<ighai]deceÍTed;nede»paireii, without bringhnted.
Cknúider, now, «hewer it be rusonable to laf the blame of hia sufier-
iOfCS upon me. Let him who is deceived oomplain; let Mm to wham
bith IS tnvteli desirair; Jet him whom I ehall encourage preaume:
and let him Taunt whom I shall admit; but let me not he called
Mnel or nrarderoni br Ü10S8 whom I never jironiise, deceive, encourage,
norwiitiit. Ueana DH not yet oidained that I should k>Te by destiny:
and from'bfñn^ b; ohoice I deúre to be excused. Let erery one ot
those who Boheit ma profit by this general declaration; and be it
understood beaceforward that if any one dies for me, be dies not
tliroufth jealousy or disdain ; for she who lores none ejui make
none jealona, and sincerity ought not to pass for disdain. Let
him who calls me sava^ and a banlisk shun me as a mischicroos
and evil thing; let him who calls me nngiateful not serre me ; bim
who thinks me cmel not follow me ; for tats s&Tti^, this basilisk, this
unsratefoJ, this cruel thing, will never either seek, serve, or follow
Ihem. If Chrvsostom's impatience and preaumirtuoro passion killed
him, why should my modest conduct and reserve be blamed P If I
preserve n; pnnty unspotted among tliese trees, why should he desire
me to lose it among men f I possess, at yon all know, wealth of my
own, and do not corrt more. My condition is free, and I am not
inclined to snhiect myself to restraint. I neither lore nor hate any-
body. 1 neither deceive this man, nor by snares for that. I neither
cajcJe one, nor divert myself with another. The modest conversation
oilhe shepherdesses of these villages, and the care of my goats, are
my entertainment. My desires are bdnnded within these mountains,
andif my thou^ts eitend beyond them, it is to contemplate the beantr
of hpAVftn- — stfliw hv whiab thft fuml wwendn to its nriiHnRi ahnde. '

most inacceesibie part of tbe nei^bonring noimti^ leaving idl
who were preaenf eqnally aorprised at fact beauty and good

Scnte of those whom her bright eyes bad wonnded, heedless of her
express declar^iiBi, seemed inclined to follow her - which Don
Ooiiote perceiving, and thinking it a proper occasion to employ his
ctüvjüryjntherehef of distressed damsels, he laid his hand onthcbilt
of his sw<Md, ud in a lond voice said, " Let no person, whatever be
his rank or condition, presume to follow the beautiful Marcela, an
pwn of inoviring mj Iiúioni indignation. She has demonstrated, by
dear and satiafidorr arguments, how Uttle she deserves censure on
account of (^rjsoatoni's death, and how averse she is to encourage
any of her loven ; for whidi reason, instead of being followed and
persecatetL ^e ooght to be hononred and esteemed by all good men
._ Ik rj *_ i^ — iw 1 J, j^ i{ whose intentions are so

persecatetL áic oo^t to be hon
in the world, fiv being the only
rirtaous." Now, whether it w

virtaous." Now, whether it was owing to the d

W MK QÜISOTl.

closed the eepnlohre with a large tra^nent of » rooV, Tiiit3 ■ tmnb-
BtODe was finiBheil which Ambrosio swd it wu bia inteuticm to pro-
vide and to iusoribe upon it the foUoviDg epitaph :—
Ths bodf of a wntehad twain^

In tlii> oold b«l iwlaotod Uca.

He llvad, iDDd, faapleai youth I to proTe
, Th' Inhuman tyramiy oi k>T^

} Exartad in Mumla'i eysa.

Then thej atiewed abundance of floven and bmgb on the gime,
and, after expresaiona of •?ondolence to his friend Ambrosio, tbejr took
Üieír leave of him. Tiraldo and his companion did the same ; and
Don Qniiote bade adien to his bosta and the travellers, who entreated
bim to acoompan^ them to Seville, being a place so favonrahle for
adventiues, that m every street and tammg they were to he met with
in greater abandance tbim in any other place. Don Qnixote thanked
them for their information and courtesy, but said that neither his
inclination nor Autf would admit of bis going to Seville, until he had
cleared all those mountains of the robbers and aasasuns with which
thej were said to be iijested. The travellere, hearing his good reso-
lutiODS, would not importune him further ; but, takinx leave of him,
pursued their journey, during which the history of Maroela and
Chrysoetom, as well as the pbreni; of Don Quixote, supplied them
with subjects of conversation. The knight, on his part, resolved to
go in quest of the shepherdeai Uaroela, to make her an offv of hia
services ; but thing* took a differeiit oourse, aa will be related in tiie

UignieUb, Google

BOOK III.

m«n£* it raided the unjertunau adtentrnt «rite* 'Uftl Don Qtiiait^
in wtetting in(A «rtoi» unMtrcifyl rgiywta»*.*

IiK&TB hariiig beto taken, ta the sage Gid Hamet Benenzeli nktei,
\ij Don Qnixot^ of all those vho irere present at CniTsostom'a
foneral, he and his sqiura entered the nune vood into whicb the; had

seen the shepherde gedthronghit

iw »bove two hoiu liey stopped ia

ameadowftillofrr and refreshing

brook : issomach I to pass there

the soItTy hours i 17 omiressÍTe.

Don Quixote and E imd Romanta

■t large to feed npi ed the wallet j

aad, without ws ae, muter aad

man shared what i 1 care to fetter

Sosnaote, being n lorree^ tb*t all

the mans of the pi >ke him to aar

indecorom. Bnt 1 r^ asleep, ao

ndoed it that thi 17 a nnmber of

fl*!'™™ mares, b aniers, whose

cmtom it is to pasi ea wham there

ia i^vss and water : reposed raited

thar porpote. Kowiteohi^peDedthatlUiEiiiaiitecoaoeiTedawish
to pay his respects to the females, end, having them in the wind, he
diMiged hisnMiml and sober paoe to a brisk trot, and without a^ing
his master's Inte, departed to indnlse in his ii^ination. Bat they
bong, as it seemed, more disposed to feed than anfUiing dse, raoeivea
him with their heos and their teeth in such a manner that m a little
time hia Kirtbs brok^ aad he lost his saddle. But what must have
afleeted him more sensibly was, Uwt the carrien, having witnessed his
intrusion, set npt» bim with their paek-staves, and so belaboured
Um that Üiey laid him akmg on the ground in wretched plight.

Bfthia time the knight and sqnuft having seen the drubbing of
fiennante, came up io greet haste; andDonQnixoteaaid, "By what
I se^ fnóiá Senobck these are no knights, bnt low people of a
scouulrel race. I tell thee this, because thon art on uat acoonot

* Cuiten of Galkd^ ud blbaUMnta oT Qua dlrtriet of Yangiua In the
BHa,

, , . .A.OOgIC

iustified in assbting me to take ample revenge for the ontrspe they
nave done to Bezinante before onr eyes." " WTiat the devil of revengo
can we take," snswercd Bancho, "since they are above twenty, and we
no more than two, and perhaps Dut one and a half?" "1 am equal to
ahundrcd!" replied Don Quixote; and, without saying more, helaid
his hands on his Bword, and flew at the Yajigucsians ; and Sancho
did the same, incited by the eiBmple of his master. At the first
blow, Don Ouijote gave one of them aterriblewound on the shoulder,
through a leathern doublet. The Yanguesians, aeeinj; themselves
assaulted in this manner by two men only, seized their staves, and,
Burroimdin^ iheni, began to dispense their blows with great veliemence
and animosity; and true it is that at the second blow they brought
Sancho to the ground. The same fate befeL l)on Quixote — his courage
and deiteritf availing him nothing: and, as fate would have it, he
fell just at Rozinante's feet, who nad not yet been able to rise.
Whence we may learn how unmercifuilyr^k-stAves will braise, when
pnt into rnstic and wrathful hands. The Yanguesians, perccivinz
the mischief they had done, loaded their beasts with at! speed, ana
pursued their journey, leaving the two adventurers in evil plight.

Uie first who came to his senses was Saaoho Panza, who, finding
himself close to his master, with a feeble and plaintive voice cried,
" Signoc Don Quiiote ! ah, Signer Don QuixotcT " " What wouldst
thou, brother Sancho f" answered the luiight, in the same fechle and
lamentable tone. "I could wish, if it were passible," said Sanelio
Panza, "your worship would give me two draughts of that drink of
I'eo Blass, if yon have it here at hand. Perhaps it may do as welt
for broken bones as it does for wounds." "Ünliappyl, tliatwehaveit
not ! " answered Don Qiiiiote. " But I swear to t Dee, Sancho Panza,
on the faith of a kmght-enant that, before two days pass (if fortune
decree not otherwise), I will have it in my possession, or my hands
shall fail me much." "Bnt in how many days," said the acpiire,
"does yonr worship think we shall recover the use of our feet P
Tor my part," answered the battered knight, Don Quixol*, "I
caimot ascertain the precise term: bnt I alone am to blame, for having
laid hand on m; sword against men who are not knights hite myselfí
and, therefor^ I believe the God of battles has permitted this chas-
tisement to fall upon mc. asa punishment for having transjiTessed the
laws of chivalrv. On this account, brother Sancho, it is requisite
thou shouldst be forewarned of what I shall now tell tbee: for it
highlyconcems the welfare of us both: and it is this; that, when we
ftre insulted by low people of this kind, do not stay stJl I take up my
Bwoi^ against them, for I will by no means do it ; bat do tbou drair
thy sword, and chastise them to thy satisfaction. If any knizhta
shall come up 1« their assistance, I shall then know how to defend
thee, and offend them with all my might : for thou hast already had a
thonund prouEs how for the valour of this strong arm of nunc
extends ; "—so arrogant was the poor genUeman become by his victory
over the valiant Biscayan I

But Sancho Panza did not so entirely approve his master's instmo-
tions as to forbear saying, in reply: " ^, 1 am a peaceable, tam^
quiet roan, and can forgive any injury whatsoever j for I have a wifs
and children to maintain and bring ni» ; so that give me leave to tell
roor warship by way of hint, sbioe it is not for me to command, that
I win opon no account diaw iny sword, either against peasant or afúuat
,, .A.OOgIC

HIS LÜCKLEBS KJGHT. U

knigtit ; and that, from this time forward, in the presence of God, I
forgive all ¡Qjuries bnj ooe has done, or BbaU do me, or that any
person ¡a now doing, or niaj hereafter do me, whether he be high or
low, rieli or poor, gentle or simple, without exccptliu an^ state or
oonditioQ whatcTer," Upon which hi» niarter said; I wish I had
breath to talk a little at mj ease, and that the pain I feel in this rib
would oease long enoush for me to conTinoe thee. Panza, of thy error.
Hark ye, sinner, should the gale of fortune, now so adverse, change
in oor favour, iillinp the sails of our desires, so that «c mo; securely
and without opposition niake the port of some one of thoM islands
vhich 1 have promised thee, what would become of thee, if when I
bad gained it, and made thee lord thereof, thou shouldst render alt
ineffectual by not being a knight, nor desiring to be one, and by having
neither valour nor resolution to revenge the injuries done thee, or
to defend th; dominions F For thou must know that, in kingdoms
«nd provinces newly conqnered, the minds of the natives are at no
time so quiet, nor so much in the interest of their new master, but
títere is still ground to feai that they will endeavour to effect a change
of things, and oucc more, as they call it, try their fortune : therefore,
tbe new possessor ought to have understanding to know how to con-
duct himself, and courage to act offensivelv and defensively, on every
occasion." " la this that hath now befallen ns," answered Sancho,
"I wish I had been furnished with that nndarstanding and Taloilr

fonr lordship speaks of; but I swear, on the faith of a poor man^ I
am at this tiioo more fit for plaísters than discourses. Try, sir,
whether you are able to rise, and we wüi help up Kozinante, though
be does not deserve it, for he was the ])rínoipal cause of all this
mauling. I never believed the Uke of Koooaote, whom I .took to be
chaste, and as peaceable as myself. Bat it is a true saying, that
' Buch time is necessair to know people thoroughly ;' and that ' wo
■re sore of nothing in tois life.' Who could have tbonght that, after
■oeh swinging Issues as you gave that luckless adventurer, there
■houU come post, as it were, in pursuit oí you, this vast tempest of
cndgel-strokes, which has disch^^d itself upon our shouldersF"
"^ute, Sancho," replied Don Quiiote, "should, one would think, be
ased to «neb storms; but mine, that were brouglit up between
muslins and cambrics, must, of course, be more sensible to the paia
of this onfortunate encounter. And were it not that I imagine— why
da I say imagine ?— did I not know for certain, that all these incon-
veniences an inseparably annexed to the profession of arma, I would
toffcr m^elf to die here, out of pure vexation." " Since these mis-
haps," sud the squire, " are the natural fruits and harvest of chival^'.
wag teU me whether tbey come often, or whether Üiej have tbeir set
mri» in which thev happen ; for, to my thinking, two such harvests
wwild disable as irom ever retting s third, ii God of bis infinite
mercy docs not suceour na."

" Learn, friend Sancho," answered Don Qui: —
kni^ts-emnt are subject to a thousand perils ai
tbesame time they are no less near becoming kings and emperors; aa
experience hath sbown ns in many and divers knights, with whose
bitíoñes I am perfectly acquainted. I could tell thee now, If this
pain would allow me, of some, who, by tbe strength of their arm
iJone, have mounted to the exalted ranks I have mentioned ;,^et
these very men were, before and after, involved in sundry calamities

n DOR quizoTz.

Bnd miafbrtnnee. 1%e taloroiu Amadis de OstJ, far inatanee, mw
kimself in tbe pover of bú mortal euetnT, Archelaás the enchanter, of
w^om it is positively affinned that, vaea he had him prisoner, be
tied him to a piUar m his ooort^ard, and gtne him above two hiffl'
dred laahe* vith bis bone's bndle. There is, moreover, a prWal«
aathor of i» small credit, who tella lu tiiat the 'knight of the son,
beins CBoght b^ ft trap-door, which sunk under his feet, in a certain
castle, found himself at the ootfom of a deep dungeon under ground,
bonnd hand and foot ; where tliej administered to him one of those
tíiings called a clyster, of snow-water and sand, that almost deepatcfaed
him: and iuul he not been succoured in that great distress br a certain
st^c, his particular friend, it wooid have gone hard witn the poor
fau^t.' So that I may well submit to suffer amouK so many worthy
persoiu who endured mncfa KTeat«T affronts than those we bave bow
expenenced: for 1 would bare thee know, Sancho, that woanda viren
with instnunenta that are aoddentallr in the hand are no aimnit ;
thns it is expreesl; wntten in the law of combat that, if a shoemaker
Btiike a person with the last he bas in his hand, thou^it bereallvof
wood, it will not therefore be said that the person thus beaten with it
was cudgelled. I sar this, that thou mayest not think, thooRhwe are
bruised m this oonfie. we are disgraced: for tbe arms ttiose men
carried, and with whini tbey assailed us, were no otber than their
BtaTCe ; and none of them, as I remember, had either tuek, sword, or
dagger." "They gaTCme noIeismB," answered Sanoho, to obsráre
BO naTTOwlj ; for scarcely had I laid hand on my weapon, than my
shoulders were crossed wiÜi their saplings, in aneb a manner that tbev
deprived my eyes of sight and my feet of strength, Uyins me wher« I
now lie : and where I am not so much concerned about whether tbe
business of the thrashing be an affront or not, as I wn at tbo pain of
the blows, which will leave as deep an impression on my memory la
on my shoulders." " Notwithstanding this, I tell thee, I»othu
Fansb" said Don Quixote, "that there is no remembrance which
time does Dot obliterate, nor pain which death does not terminate."
"Bat what greater misfortune can there be," replied Fbdul "than
that which waits for time to cure and for death to end f If tnis mis-
chance of ours were of that sort which might be cored with a couiJe
of ptaisters, it wouhi not be alttwether so cadj but, for aught I sec,
■11 the plaisters of a hostal will not be suffiaenl to act ns to rights
■gain."

" Hare done with this, and nthei strength out of veakness,
Sancho," said Don Qoixtne: "tot so 1 purpose to do: and let us
eee bow Bozinante does ; fw it seema to me that not Uie least part
of our misfortune has fallen to the share of this poor animal." "Thatia
not «t all stnuge," answered Sancho, "ainoe he alto hebngs to aknight-
emuit: but what I wonder at is Uiat mr ass should come off scot-
bee, wbeie we have pud so dear." " Fortune always leaves some
door open in misfbrtnn^ to admit a remedy," said Don Quixote ;
"this I say, because thy beast may now aupply the want of Rosinante^
by carrying me hence to some oasUe, where I may be cured of my
wcnmls. Nor do 1 acconnt it dishonourable to be so mounted: for I
remember to bave read that the good old Silenos, governor and tutor
of the mtm god <^ laughler, when be made his entry into the city of
the hundred gates, was mounted, muoh to his satisfaction, on a most
beautiful ass. " It is likely be rode u your worship says, answeicd

, , . .A.OOgIC

IXRITAL AT TBI CABTLX.

Mud Don Qoixote, " rather give honour than take it away ; theieforé,
fiiend Panza, aiuwer me do more, bat, u I said before, taiae me up
■a well as thou canst, and place me as it ma; beet please thee apon
thf as& that we mar get hence bebre night oTertskea ua in the onin-
hatuted place." "let I hare heard ^ui worship ssf," quoth Fama,

CHAPTER XVL
Oj «Hot kafiMud to Dos Rúcate in It* «m* «itel At imagittd to U

Lootixe tt Don Qoixote laid across the ass^ the innkeeper ingoired
of Sancho what ailed him? Sancho answered him that it was nothiiw
but a fall ^m the lock, br wliich his ribs were somewhat bruised.
The innkeeper bad a wife ot a disposition unooramon amone those of
the like occupation ) for she was nsturallr charitable, and fdt for tbe
ntisfoitones of ber ndghboois ; so that the immcdiotelr prepared to

,, .A.OOglC

M non qnizoTB.

relieve Dod Qoiiote, and made ber daaght«r, a very comely young

maiden, assiat in the cute of her guest. There was also a servant at
the inn, on ¿aturiAn «ench, bnüd-faced, flat-headed, with a little
nose, one eye squinting, and the other not much better. It is true,
the elegance of her form made amends for other defects. She was not
seven hands high ; and her shoulders, which burdened her a little too
much, made her look down to the ground more than she would
willingly have done. This agreeable mss now assisted the damsel to
prepare for Don Quizóte a very sorry bed in a garret, which gave
erident tokens of having formerly served many years as a hay-loft. In
this room lodged also a carrier, wliose bed was at a little distance
from that of our knight ; and though it was composed of paimeb, and
Otiier trappings of his mules, it had much the advant^ over that of
Don Quixote, which consisted of four not very smooth boards, upon
two unequal tresafls, and a mattress no thicker than a quilt, and full
of knobs, which from their hardness might have beeo taken for peb-
bles, had not the wool appeared through some fractures; with two
theeta lite the leather ot an old tai^t, and a rug, the threads of
which you might count if you chose, without losing one of the
number.

In this wretched bed was Bon Quixote laid ; after which the hostess
Uid her daughter plaistered him from head to foot: Maritornes (for
to the Astnrian wench was called) at the same time holding the l^ht.
And, as the hostess was thus employed, perceiTing Don Quixote to
be mauled in every part, she said that his bntiset seemed the effect of
hard drubbing, rather than of a fall, " fiot a dmbbing," said Sancho ;
" but the knobs and sharp points of the rock, ererr one of which has
left its mark : and, now I think of it," added he, pray, contrive to
spare a morsel of that tow, as somebody may find it useful— indeed,
I suspect that my sides would be glad of a Utile of it." " What.
yon have had a fait too. have you?" said the hostess. "No,
replied Sancbo, " not a fall, but a fright, on seeing my master tumble,
which so affected my whole body that I feel as if I had received a
thousand blows myseE" " That may very well be," said the damsel ;
"for 1 have often dreamed that I was falling down from some high
tower, and could never come to the grouaa; and, when 1 awoke. I
have found myself as much bruised aiid batto^ as if I had reoUy
fallen," " Bat here is the point, mistress," answered Sancho Fans^
" that I, without dreaming at all, and mote awake than I am now.
find myself with almost as many bruises as my master Don Quixote.
"What do vou sny is the name of this gentleman?" quoth the
Asturian. Don Quixote de la Mancha," answered Sancho Poma :
" he is a knight-errant, and one of the best and most valiant that has
been seen for this long time in the world." " What is a knight-
errant?" said the wench. "Are you such a novice as not to know
that?" answered Sancho Panza. "Yon must know, then, that A
knight-errant is a thing that, in two words, is cudgelled and made an
emperor ; to-dav he is the moat unfortunate wrelidi in the world ; and
to-monow will have two or three crowns of kingdoms to ^ive to his
iqaire." "How comes it then to pass that you, being squire to this
worthy gentleman," said the hostess, "have not yet, as it seems, got
•0 much as an earldom ? " " It is early days yet, answered Sancho,
" for it is hut a month since we set out in quest of adventures, ana '

THE QOOB SUUKtTAKa. 65

ümes wB look for one tiling ind find BJWther, Bot the truth fi, if
mj master Don Quísote reoovers of this wound or &I1, and 1 am not
disabled theKiij, 1 would Bot tru<^ my hopes for the b«st title in
St«Ri."

To all this coOTersa'wn Don Quixote had listened verr attentively ¡
and noW| raiaia^ hiiii»»lf np in tlie bed as veil as he c»ald, and tuking
the huta of ha hostc^ he said to her : " Believe me, beaatcous lady,
you ni»r qsl«em yoiiiielf forton^Ie in havins^ entertained me in tliii
yoar castle, being such a person that, if I say little of myself, it it
beenuüe, m the prurcrb declares, ftelf-nrsiee depreciates: but my
Bqnire Will inform yoa who I am. I only say that I shall retain the
service yon have drmo nve eternally enicraven on my memory, and bo
(¡ratcl'nl to you as loov as my lil'o shall endure. And, had it pleased
thehiiih be»TCDS that Lore had not held me bo enthralled and eabject
U> his laws, and to the eyes of that beuitiful ingrato «hoee name I
silently pronoinica, t^Msc of this lovdy viifin had becwne enslavers
of my liberty."

The host^'sa, bar daughter, and the ffood Maritornes, stood con-
foBndedat tliLsharaQinKof <mrkniirlrt-¿rrnnt,whieb they understood
jnat ns much as if he h:Ld spoi^en Greek, altliongh they guessed that
It alt tended to compliments and oflucs of service; ana not being

it, whan tie guests were all quiet and her master and nri^css

asleep, she wosld rniair to him. And it is said of this honest wench
tliat she never made the like promise but she performed it, even
thnns^ she bod mads it on a mounuiin, without any witneae ; for she
ruined hentdf n)*on faers^fitiiity, and thou^ht it no (Üssraoe to be
employed in servira at au inn ; since niBfortoncs and nnnappy aoci-
deata, as titt affinned, lud bronRfat her to that state.

Don Qoiioto'i hard, scsmty, bem»rl», craiv bed, stood ftrst in the
middle ot the eoek-Ut i and close ^y it Sanoho bad placed his own,
whicit consisted only of a rush mat, and a mg that seemed to be
nÜier of beaten hemp than of wool Next to the squire's stood that
of the carrier, made up, as hath been said, of pcumeb, and tlie whole
fimifaue of two of his best moles : for be poesesied twelve in namfaer,
sUak, f^ and statahí — being one of the ri^st oorriers of Areralo,
•oooriling to the autnor cá this history, who mi^es particular mention
of this oarrier, for he know him well ; nay. come go so fir as to >«y he
was rehtted to bim. Besida, Cid Hmnst Benengeli was a veryminBta
and very aconrate hittoriaa in all thinirs: and this is very evident
from toe «úciiinslancos already related, which, tbatuh apparently
mean and tnnal, he would not pass over unnoticed. This may serve
as an enun]^ to those grave historians who relate facts so bricflyand
loecinctly ihot we have sonrcety a taste of them : omitting, either
throuich neglect, malice, or ignorance, things the most DÍtiiy and sub-
stantial. A tlioosand blessings upon the author of TaUnnte, of Rioa-
monte, and on liim who wrote the exploits of the connt de TomiUs 1
IVilh wliitt punctaility do they descnbe everything!

I s»}-, thsD, tkut, after the carrier hod visited bis mate^ sad given

W VON Qinxon.

Üiem tbeir second oontM, he laid himself down upon his puineb, in
cxpectHlion of hb most panotu&l Maritornes. SaDclio was already
Mastered, tnd in bed ; and, though he endcavoutcd to sleep, the paia
of his ribs would not allow him ; and Don Quixote, from the sune
cause, kept his e^es wide open bs those of a, hare. The vhde inn
iras in profound aUence, and contained no other lieht than what pra-
ee«ded from a lamp whioh hung in the middle of the enlr;. This
luarrellous stillness, and the thoughts of our Lnight, which incessanllj
recnrred to those adrentnres so cocnmon in the mrnals of chivalry,
' ' ' 'is itn^nnation oiie of the strangest whims that can well
" ' . ., , 1 ome famoos castie,

^ _,. is fine appearance,

d become enamoured of liim, and hod proroised to steal tliat nisht

privstelr to him, and pass some time with him. Ttien, taking all tliia
cbimera formed by himself, for reality, he began to feci some alarm,
EeiflectW on tlie dangerous trial (o wliich his Gdelitjr was on the
point ofbcinp exposed ; but resolved in his heart not l« commit di»-
Myalt}- against his ladf Dulcinea del Toboso, thongh Queen Gioehn
herself, with the lady Quiutaniaua, should present tbemscives before

^Vliilat his thoughts wet« occiqued by these exbaragaaoes, the
honr — en nnlue):; one to him— arrircd when the gentle 'Asluriu^
mindful of her promise, eQt«red the nom, undressed and bare-footed,
with her hair tacked up under ■ fustian cotf, and, with silent «la
caatious step, adranoed towarda tlie couch of her beloved. Bat
BCorcely had sne passed the threshold of the door when Don Quixote
heardher; and, sitting up in his bed, in spite of plasters and the
pain of bis ribs, stretched out his arms to r«aeive his betutteaus
damsel, who, cronching, and holding her invotii as she went, wilJl
hands extended feeling for her lover, enconntered the arms of Don
Quixote, who canght first hold of her by the wrist, and drawing her
towards him (she not daring to speak a word], made her sit down on
the bed. On touching her only gatment, though it was of canvas, it
seemed to him to be of the finest and softest lawn; the glass beads
that encircled her wrists, to his fancy w«« precious oriental pesrls :
ber hura, not unlike tlune of a hone's mane, he took for threads ol
the br^t««t sold of Anfaia, whose splewlaur obaeuree that of th«
nm itself: and thoogh her breath, daobtleis, smelt pOTcrfiiUy of tlie
last ni^tht 8 stale salMah, ha laneied himself inhaling a delicious and
anmalia odoor. In ahcnt, his imagination painted ner to him in the
ftiy tona and mannw of some priaoess described in his books, who
minea thus adornad to nsit the waonded kni^t with whom she is in
kfve 1 and so gixtt wu the poor gentleman's infatuation, that neither
the tODoh, nor the br^th, nor other things the good venjch had about
her, oould nndecetre him, although enough to make any one but a
onier siok. So far from this, he imaginad Ihat he held the goddess
of beaat7 in his anns¡ ani clasping her fast, in a low and amorous
Toice he aaid to her: "Ol th^ Iwov in a state, beautiful and
exalted lady, to return so rast a favour as this you confer upon me,
by jnui: oharmiag preoeuee 1 but fortune, never weary of persecuting
the good, ia pleased to lay me on this bed, so bniiaed end disabled
that, how muoh soever I ms? be inclined to conviiioe you of my
devotion, it is impossible: to which is added another still greater
imposHbüity — tiie plighted faith I han sworn to the peeTleü Uul-

A.OOgIC

THE irmiCAL COHCAT. 87

einca del Tohoso, solo mistress of my most recondite thonihts ! Had
not lliesc articles intervened, I sbould not liave been so insensible a
kai.^htas (« let slip the Itappy opportunity witli wluch jour great
goednesa lias faroured me,"

Maritornes was in the utmost vexation at bcin;; tlias confined by
Don Quixote; and, not heating or attending to what lie said, slin
Btrufrsied, witlioat speaking a word, to release herself. Tlie goad
currier, uliom evil thou^hls had kept awake, hariag heard his fair
one from the ñret raomeitt alie enteird the duor, listened attentively
to all that Don Quixote said ; and 'suspecting that the Asturias
nnnph had phtyed false with him, he advanced towards Don Quixote's
bed, and stood still, in order to discover the tendency of his discourse,
whiob. however, he could uot understand ; but, seeiiisr that the wench
atrugiiled to ^et from him, and that Don Quixote laboured to hold
her, aiidalso not liking the jest, he lifted un his arm, and discharged
M terrible a blow on the kntliom jaws of the enamoured kni^lit^ that
his moulh was bathed in blood; and, not content with tliis. he
mounted upon his ribs, and paced them somewhat above a trot fram
one end to the other. The Md, which was crazy, and ¡Is foundations
none of the strongest, being unable to hear the additional weight of
the oartier, came down to the ground with sneh a ernsh that tlie inn-
kec^ awoke; and. liavin;; called aloud to Alaritomcs without
receivins an answer, he immediatelv conjectured it v/:is some alTair in
which she was concerned. With tliia suspicion he arose, and, light-
ing a candle, went to the place where he had beard the Ijustle. The
wench, seeing her master coming, and knowing his furious disposi-
tion, retreated in terror to Saaclio Paiuia'a bed, who was now asleep ;
and there rolled herself into a baL. The innkeeper entered, callinjc
out, " Where are j'ou, strumtjet P fur these are some of your doings. *
Saneho was now disturbed^ and feeling such a mass upon lum,
fancied he bad got the nightmare, and began to lay about him on
every side ; and not a few of his blows reached Maritornes, who, pro-'
Toked by the smart, oast aside all decorum, and made Sancho such a
Tetara in kind that she cffectuaily roused him from sleep, in spite of
tia drowsiness. The squire linding himself thus treated, and withoai
ktu>winK bj; whom, raiaed htmsclf up as well as he could, and
enpplea with Mantornes - and there began between them the most
olMtuwte and delightful skirmish in the world. The carrier, per-
wivins, by the hsht of the host's candle, how it fared with his
mistreáL quitted Don Quixote, and ran to her assistance. The land-
lord followed him, but with a different intention ; for it was to
(diastise the wench, oonolading that she was the sole occasion of all
this harmony. And so, as the proverb says, the cat to the rat, the
tat to the H>pe, and the rope to the post : the carrier belaboured
Banoho, Sancho the wenoh, tlie wenoh Sancho, and the innkeeper the
vencb ; ^ redoubling their blows without i¡it«rmÍESÍon : and the best
of it was, the landlord's candle went out; when, being left in the
dark, they indiscriminately thrashed each other, aud with so little
]uercy that every blow left its mark.

It happened that there lodged that night at the inn, an offloer
belonging to the holy brotherhood of Toledo-; who, hearing the
BlrenM noise of the scuffle, seiied his wand and the tin-boi which
held his oommiasion, and entered the room in the dark, onlling out,
" forbear, in the mune of justioe ; forbear, in the name of the holf
y9

OS DOH QUIXOTE.

brotherlood." And the first he encountered was the battered Don
Quixote, who hj senseless on his demolisbed bed, stretched upon his
back : and, laying hold of his beiird as be was groping- about, he cried
ont reiicatedly, I char)^ jouto aid and assist nie;'* but, finding
that Ine person whom he heldwss motioulrss, he conchided that he
was dead, and that tlie people in the room were his murderers. Upon
which he raised his voice stdl louder, crving, " Shut the inn door, and
let none escape ; for here is a man murdered ! " These words startled
them all, aod the conflict instantly ceased. The landlord withdrew lo
his chamber, the carrier to his "pajinels, and the wench to lier straw :
the unfortunate I>on Quixote and Sancho alone were incapable of
moving. The officer now let ro the heard of Don Quixote, and, in
order to search alter and secure the delinquents, he went nut for a
light, but couid find none; for fhe innkeeper had puriiosely extin-
guished the lamp, when he retired to his chamber; and therefore he
was obliged to have recourse to the chimney, vhere, after much time
trouble, be lighted another lamp.

CHAPTER XVIL

Wierein an enntinutd the innumgraili ditaHtrt &ti hffi tA» hmrt Dan
Qmitif^ ami 4ú good ijnrt Sancho i'atua ñ ¡it tan «iúi kt
unAappilji toei/oT a catUt.

DoM Quixote by this time bad omne to bimself, and, in the same
dolorous tone in which the day before he had called to liis squire,
when he 1^ extended in the valley of pack-staTei, be now asain
called to him, aayii^, " Sancho, fnend, art thou asleep P art than
asleep, friend SanchoP" "How should I sleep ? woe is me!"
answered Sancho, full of trouble and vexation ; " for I think all the
devils in hell have been with me to-nipbt," " Well mayat thou believe
80," answered Don Quixote; "for either I know nothing, or tbia
castle is enchanted. Listen to me, Sancho,— but what I am now

Saiug to disclose thou must swear to keep secret until after my
eath." " Yea, I swear," answered Sancho. "I require this," said
Don Quixote: "because I would not injure the reputation of tuj
one." " I tcU yon I do swear," replied Sancho ; " and will keep it
secret nnlil your worship's death, and Heaven grant I may discover
it to-morrow." " Have I done thee so much evil, Sancho," answered
]>>n Quixote, "that thou shouldst wish for my decease so very aoonP"
"It ¡snot for Ihal," answered Sancho; "but lam an enemy to hold-
ing thinirs long, and would not have them rot in my keeping." "Bo
it Tor what it will," said Bon Quixote, "I coufide in thy love aod
courtesy, and therefore I bform thee that this nisbt a most extra-
ordinarv adventure has befallen me; aod, to tell it briefly, thou must
know that, a little while since, I was visited by the daui(hter of the
lord ofthisoastle,who is the most accomplished and beautiful damsel
to be found over a great part of the habitable earth. How could I
describelbepraeesof her person, the sprigbtlincas of her wit, and the
mnuj other hidden chanus which, Irom tbie respect I owe to mj ladr

A.OOgIC

ma EviL FuoHT. 69

Dulmnca del Toboso I shall pass over undescribed ! All that I am
nerniilUd to say is tliat Heaven, jealous of the great hapiiinf^ss that
fortune liad put iii my possessioa, or, wliat is more probable, this
tastie being f ucbtnted, just bs we were eusnt^ed ¡u most aveet and
lOKiFous cooTersation, an invisible hand, affiled to the arm of some
monstrous giant, ^ve ntc so violent a blow ihat my moulh was bathed
in tíooil, tad afterwards so liniiscd me t' ' '
state tWi tJiat nbertin the fury of the i
owina to the iodiscrctioB of Hoziiiante.
the treasure of this damsel's beauty is pi
Moor, and therefore out lo bo approaclii
«either," imsnereii Saucho ; " for more thai
buffeted me ia such a man'uer that tbe bast
(arts and cheesecakes to it. But tell me
exeellent and rare «¡dventure, nhicli Las lefl
that it vaa quite so bad with your worshi
that iaeomparable beauty ivbom yon speak
I but the heaviest blows t!mt I hope I shi
Woe is me, and the moUicr that bctfe mc !
nor ever mcnn to be one ' jret, of all our mii
falls to lay share." " What, hast thon liki
DoD Quixote. "Have not I told yoa aoF

faoth Sancho, "Console thyself, friend,"
wilt sow make tbst precious btdsam a
tirinldiiiK of an eye." At this momeat I
his lamp, altered to CKaniinc the person ni
been miutlered-, and Saneho, seeiae hiin i
Bightcap on his head, s lamp in bis hand, a
^ll-bvoured, asked hii master if it was tk
tofinisU the correetion he liad bestowed u|
Ün Alow," answered Dob Quiiote; for
thenuelves to be risible." "If they do no
«ill be füit," said Saucho : " wltacsa my si
apeak, too," answixed Don Quixote. " '.
eridcDoe lo convince tu that he whom

The officer, finding thorn eomniuniDB; ¡d so calm a maimer, stood in
Mtonishmrnt : altliooi^h it ¡a true that Dou Quixote still Liy flat on tus
hack, 101^ to stir, from bruises and plostci-s. Tbeofficer apiiroacbed
hnn, and said, " H ell. my p»d fellow, how are you ? " I would

£ speak more reepcetfully," answered Dwi Quixote, " were 1 in your
lace. Is it the fu:íhion«f tl lis country, blockhead, tbus to adiliess
ni^bts-arrant F " The oüieer not disposed to bear this lanKuaje from
one of so scurvy an aspect, lifted up bis lamp, aod dasbt'^d it, with all
its eont cuts, at the headof Don Qui:cote, and then made bis retreat in.
tha dark, " Burcly," quoth Saiicho Pango, " thb must lie the en^
ebanted Moor; and be reserves the treasure for others, and for us
only Ssty^iiffs and lainp-sliols." ° " It is even so," answered Don
Quixote; "and it is to no purpose to regard these eflairs of enchant-
ments, or to be out of liuniour or atigry with them ; for, bein? mvi-
nble, and mere phantoms, all eudcavours to seek revenue "ould bo
fruitlras. Biae, Sancho, if Uiou cou^t, oud call the govccsor of this

* Id tlw original, Caadiiatot, ia acsw-coluad word.

A.OOgIC

70 DOH QUIXOTE.

fortress, and procore me some oil, wine, salt, and ro5cnint7, to mnlte
the heaiinfc bulsum ; fiu' iii truth 1 want it inutli Lit ttiis time, as ilia
wound tliis pliiinlotii liiis ¡riven me bleeds vcrv fast."

Sandio got up wilii iicliiiii; bimes; and, ¡¡a Iiewiisprnceedin-jintlie
dark towards tlie landlord's cliambcr, be met ihit olliccr, wiio iros
watchiii? tlie movcraeiils of his enemy, and said to hiui, " Sir, who-
ever yciu ure, do us the favour and kiiidnc.-!<s to lu'lp ustoalilllc
rosemnry, oil, sail, and wHnc ; for they are Wiinted lo cure oiie of liic
best knis-'lils-etraiit in the world, who lies there, sorclv womidrd by
the hands of the enchanted Uoor who is is this inu. The ollicer,
hcariu;; this took him for n maniac; and, as the day now bewail lu
dawn, he o|>cncd ihc inn-door, and enlliit'.; the host, tuld him what
^nciio wanted. The iunkneiHT furnished him wiih wliat he desired,
and Sancho carried ihcii) to Don Qnixxtc. who hiy with liis hamls on
his heud, eoiii|>laiinni; of Iho iioiu eiitiscd by the lam]i. which. how<
ever, bad dune him no other hntt tlian raíain;; a coiipin aí lolorahla
brge timiours ; wliat he took for bl'KNl bt'in:; oii)y muihturf , orca-
sioned by the pelt ins of the storm wliieh had iual blown oi'er. In tine,
he took his smiples, and ni»dc a c<jni|x)iina of Ihrin, mixing Ihetn
t<^ether, and botliiii: thcin pome lime, until he Ihon^lit llie ntr\iure
bad arrivi'd at the cKuet point, lie then a.'^kcd lor a vial to hold it ;
but, as there was no such thinz in the inn, ho reiudved to put it in a
cruse, or tin oit-llask. of vliich the host made hini a present. This
bein!{ done, he pmiLouiiccd over the cruse above four.seore pafer-
noaters, and a.s many ave-marias, salves, and credos, aecompaiiyins
every woid with a cross, hv wiiy of bi'nrdicl ion ; oil which was per-
formed in the prciicnee of Sanciio. Ihc innkci'jier, and tlie olfirrr. As
' for tlie carrier, be had cone soberly about tbc husinei^s of tending his
mules. Ilavins cinnpleted (he o|)eration, Don Quixote resolved to
make triol immediately of the viituc of that precious balsam; and
therefore drank about a pint and a half of what reiiinined in the pot
■wherein it was boiled, after the crose wa.i filled ; and se;irrcly hod he
swallowed the potion when it was rejected and followed by so violent
a retching that notliiii;;'nas left on his stomach. To the pain and
exertion of the vomit, a copious perapiration snccecdiit'j, he desired
to be covered up warni,aaa left alone. They did so, and lie continued
asleep above three Jioura, when he awoke, and found himself grciilly
reheved in his body, and his battered and bruised members so mucli
restored that he considered himself as perfcclly recovered, and was
thoroujihly pcrsuad<'d that he was in posscsbioa of Ihc tnie biJ^iim of
Fierabrás ; and conseijnently, with such o remedy, he niijiht thence-
forward encounter, without fear, all dangers, battles, and conflicts,
however hazardous.

Sancho I'anzo, who likewise took bis master's amendment for a
miracle, desired l)e woul<l give him what remained in the pot, which
was no small ((uantify. This re(| nest being granted, he tmik it in both
band», and. with Rood faith and better will, swallowcil downrery
little less than his master hod done. Now the case wa.*), that poor
Sanclio's stomach was not so delicate as that of his master; and,
therefore, before he could reject it, lie endored stich p!"i™i and Inath-
injra. i*itb such eold sweats and fninCin^s, that he verily thought his
last hour wiis come; and findin? himsell' so «fBicteil attd tormented,
be cursed the bidsam, and the thief that had Riven it him. Don
Quixote, aeeins him in that coudition. nid : " 1 believe, Sancho^ that

THE VOIIDBOUB BlUAM. 71

tU tbis mischief hath befallen thee because than art not dubbed a
knight; for I am of opitiicin this lii^uor can do good otilf to tliosa
who tm of that order." " If jour worshijj knew Ihat," replied
Sancho.—" erü betide me and al! my peneration ! why did jou siiffer
me to drink it Í " By Ibis time the bevenwre commenced its opera-
tion, and tlie poor siraire was relieved so many ways, and with so much
prccipitatbn, tliat the rusK mat upon whiph he laid was never after
fit for use He sw^ed and sweated a^'uin, with sut^h faintings and
ahtverin^'lils. that not onlv liimsclf, but all present thought he was
eipirinz. This hurricane lasted near two hoars ¡ aod left him, not
sound like his master, but so eiliausled and shattered timt he was
uuable to stand. Don Quísole, fccün?, as we stud before, quite
renovated, was moved to take his depaiture imcnediateiy in <|uest of
atiicutuves, thinkine tliat by ever/ moment's delay he was de])rivini
the world of tiis nía and protection : and more especially as he felt
secure and eoulldent in ihc virtues of his balsam. Tlius stimulated,
he Siuldled Itozínante «ilh bis own hands, asd pannelted Ihc ass of
his siguire, whom he also helped to dress, and afterwards to niounf.
He tlien mounted himself, and, having observed a pike in a corner of
the inn-yard, he look piissessíon of it to serve him for a lance. All
the peo|)le in the itin, above twenty in number, stood gming at him :
aad,amongthe rest, the host's dau^bter, while lie on bis part i-emovecl
not his eyes from her, and ever and unon sent forth a si;;h whieli
seemed torn from the bi^tomof bis bowels: nil believing it toproceed
from pain in his ribs, at least those who the night before had seen how
he was plastered.

Being now both moonted, and at the door of the inn, he called to
the host, and, in a grave and solemn tone of voice, said to him ; —
" Many and great are the favours, signor governor, whieli iulhisvour
castle 1 have received, and I am bound to be grateful to you all tits
days of my life. If I can make yon some compensation, by taking;
vengeance on any proud miscre.aut who bath insulted yon, know that
the duty of my profession is no other tlian to sireiigthen the weak.
to reven^-c Ihe injured, and to cliasi ise the perfidious. Consider, and
if yonr memory recalls aaythinj of this nature to recommend to me,

Sou need only declare it; for I promise you, by the order of knight-
ood 1 have received, to procure you saltsfaction and amends to
your heart's desire! The host answered with the same gravity:
Sir knight, I bare no need of your worship's avenging any wront;
for me ; I know buw to take the proper revenge, when any injury is
done me : all I desire of your worship is to nay me for what you have
had in the inn, aa well for the straw and birfey for your two beasts, ns
for your supper and hidging." " What! is this an inn?" cTcUimed
Don Quiiote. " Aye, and a very creditable one," answered the host,
" Hitherto, then, I have been in an eiTor," answered iJoii Quiiole ;
" for in truth I took it for a castle ; but since it is indeed no castle,
hut ouinn, all that you have now to do is to excuse the payment', tor
I cannot act contrary to tlie law of knights-errant, of wbom I cer-
tainly know (havini! hitherto read nothing to the contrary) that the/
never mid for lodging, or niiytliitii^ else, in the inns where they
reposed; because every accomoiodat ion is legally and justly due to
them in return for the insufferable hardships they cnaure while m
quest of adventures, by night and by dav, in winter and in summer.
OB Coot and on horseback, with thirst ana vith hunger, witli heat and

72 DOH qirixoTB.

with coH ; salject to all I be inclemencies of íieaTen, and (o all (be
;supon eartli." "1 see lilllo to niypiiriiose in oll'Iiis,"

wisweR-d the Iiost : " jiay me nliat is niv due, aud let ... _

of vouT etoriea and kniglit-crraDtriea ; ail 1 uniit is to pet my oitn."
" Thou ait a blockhead, and a pitiful innkeeper," antncred l)on
Quixote : so elaoping spurs to Rtuunautc, uod braudisliiiig his lance,
he sullied out of llic inn without, opposition, and, never turning to
see whetlicr liis squire followed iiim, was soon a good way off.

The host, seeing liim go without paying, ran to seize on Sancbn
Panza, who suid tfiat, since bis master «oidd not pay, neitlier would
ke nay ; for, being squire to a knight-ermnt. the same rub uid rc;ison
lield as good for him as for his master. Tlie innkeeper, irriuted «a
hearing tliis, threatened, if he did not pay him, he SDOuld repent his
ob.-itiuBcy. &ineho swore hv the order of chivEilry, «hieh his master
hod received, that lie would not pay a single farthinsf, though it
should cost him his life; for the laudable and aneicnt usage of
k night s-enant should not be lost for him, aor should the s(|uires
of future knigUta have e&use to repioacU liiin for not mainttuuing so
just a riirht.

Poor Saneho's illlnck wonld have it that amon^ the people in the
inn there were four elotli-workers of S<;i.-ovia, tQreo nccdie-junkers
from the fountain of Coidovs, and two nclshlMiurs from the miirket-
place of lacviUo: all mercy, good-humoured, frolieksonie fellows;
who, instigated and moved, as it appeared, h^ the self-tame spirit,
came up to Sancho, and having disiiiounled him, one of them pro-
duced a blanket from the landlord's bed, into whieh lie n-as iminc-
■ diately thron'n ; but, perceiving tiwt the ceiling was too low, they
determined to execute their purpose in the yard, which was bounded

piBCCt

rds only by the sky. tiiitoer Sunelio was carried ; and, bein;
1 in the middle of the blanket, they began to loss him aloft.

and divert themselves with him, as with a dog at Shrovetide
cries which the poor blanketed squire sent forth were so many and so
loud, that fliev reached his master's cars ; who, stopping lo lisien
•ttentively, believed that some new adventure was at hand, ontil he
plainly recoinised the voice of tlie squire : then turuing the reins, lie
gulloned back to the inn-door, aud fiiiding it closed, he rode round in
search of some other entrance; but bad no sooner icaehcd the yard-
wall, wjiieb «as not verv bi;;h, wheu he perceived the wicked sjiort
tliey uere making; with his siiuire. lie saw him ascend and deii^'end
through ibeairwilh so much grace and ability lliat, if hisiiidi::nation
■nould liuvc suiTcred liim, he certainly would have laughed outright.
He made un cITort to Rct from his horse upon the nales: but was so
maimed and bruised that hewaa unable to alight; and therefore, retnún-
)[igon horseback, he proceeded to vent his rage, by uttering so many
reproaelies aud invectives against those who were tossing Sancho, that
it is inigiossible to commit them to writing. But they suspended
neilhertheirlaughtcruor their labour; nordid the Hying Sancho cea.'^o
to pour forth lamentations, minpled now wilh Ihreals, now with en-
treaties^ yet all were of no avoiL and they desisted at last only from
pure fuli;ruo. They then brought nim hisass, aud, wrapping iiim in bia
ehmk, mountcil hiin tlicreon. The compassionate Mantornes, seeinjí
him so exhausted, helhoucht of helping biin to a jug of water, and
that it nii^ht be the cooler, she felched it from the well. Sancho
took if. and as he «as lifting it to Lis mouth, stopped OQ hearing the

" A.oogic

TRZ SIETKESS OP SANCHO.

tlie most holy balsam (sliowins him tbe cruse of liouor), two drops of
which will infallibly restore tliec." At tliese words, Sauthn, turuiiij
his BTCS askance, said in b louder Toice : " Perhaps you have fiircot,
sir, that I Hiniiokaiglit,oryuii\FOuldbavc me voniit up what remains
of my inside, after la&t night's work. Keep your lii|Uor, in llic devil's
name. Bad let me alone." tie then instantly began to drink - but at
the first sip, finding it was water, he conld proceed no farther, and
besouglit Maritorres to bring nim some wine : which she did
villin^lr, and pcud for it witli her own money: fur it is indeed
said of her that, althoug:h in that station, she had some faint traci's
of a Christian. When Sonclio had ceased drinking, he clapped
heels to bis ass: anti, the inn'<:ate heiiig thrown ^ndc nficn, out
he weat, satisfied that he bad paid nothinjr, and bad carried bis point,
though at the expense of his nsual pledge, namely, bis back. Tbe
hndlord, it is true, retained bis wallets in payment of wbal was due
to bim ; hut Sancbo never missed tbem in tne hurry of his departure,
Tbe innkeeper would have fastKued the door well after him as souii
as he saw him out ; hut the hlantetecrs would not let bim, beiuii
persons of that sort that, thon^li Don Quixote bad really been one of
the Knights of the Kound Tabic, they would not have cared two
&rlhing3 for him.

CHAPTER STrn.

Tht diuotirtt lehiiA Sancho Pama held ritk Ai'

Sancho came up to bis master so faint and dispirited, that he was
not able to urge his ass fonvard. Don Quísote, perceivin™ him in
that condition, said : " Honest Sancho, that castle, or inn, 1 am now
convinced, is enrlianted ; for they who so cruelly sported with tbcc,
wbal could they be but phanioms and inhabitants ot another world ?
And I am confirmed in tliis, frnai having found that, when I stood at
the pales of the yard, beholdmg the acts of your sad tragedy, I could not
possibly get o»er them, nor even alight from Rozinante: solbatfbrv
'. must certainly have held me nncbantcd; forlswenrto thee, by the faith
' of what I am, that, if 1 could have got nrcr, or alighted, I wonki have
avenged thee in such a manner as would have made those poltroons
and assassins remember tbe jest as long aa they lived, even tbouj-li I
would have thereby transgressed the laws of chivalry ; for, as I have
often told thee, they dn not allow a knight to lay hand oo his sword
against any one who is not so, unless it be in defence of his own
hfe and person, and in cases of urgent and eilremc nceepsify."
" And I too," riuoth Sancho, " would tave revenged myself if I had
been able, knight or un knigbt, but I could not; though, in my
opinion, they *lio diverted themselves at my expense were no hob-
goblins, but men of flesh and bones, as we arc ; and each of them,
as I heard while they were tossing me, had his proper mime : one
A.OOgIC

71 SON QUIXOTE.

was callni! Pedro MartinM, anofiier Tenorio Hernande:'. ; and tlio
landlord's iiume is Jo)id Palomeiiuc, ilic left-handed : so that, sir, as
to your not beins able to leap over tlic pales, nor to aligliC from
your horsp, tlie fault lay not in encljautmeiit, but in sometliin?
else. And what I gallicr clearly from all this ia, that these adven-
tures vre arc in quest of will in Ihe Ion:; run bring us into so man;
mis advent urea that we shall not know which is our riürlit foot. So
that, in my poor opiniim, ihc bctfer and surer wav would lie to return
toouryilla^-e, now that it isrenpÍos'-time,andlooK after our business;
nor so ramlilms from Ceca tu Alineen, and out of the frcinc-pan into
the tire."

" How little dost thou know, Sanelio," answered Don Quixote,
"of wliatapiierlains to chivalry! I'ence, and have patience, for the
day will coin e when thine eves shallwilnessliow honourable a tiling it
is to follow tliis profession : for tell nic what greater satisfaction can the
world afford, or what pleasure can be compared with that of winiunst
a hatlle, and Iriutiiphm? over an adversary ? Undoubtedly none."
" It may be so," answered Sanelio^ " Ijiougli I do not know it. I only
know tliat, since we have lieea kniglits-crront, or since you have beea
one, sir (fori have no iii;l[t to reckon mjself of that honourable
number), wc have never won anylKittlpj esccpt that of the liiseainer ;
and even there youc worship came ou witli half an ear and half a
helmet ; and from that day to this we have hud nothinjf but drubbings
upon drubbin.ss, cuffs n]»}ii cuffs, with my blnnkct-tossing tuto tlie
bargain, and that by persons euclianted, on whom 1 cannot revenge
mjacif, and thereby know what that pleasure of overcomins an
enemy is whieh your worship talks of. "That b what troubles
me, and ou^-ht to trouble thee, also, Sanclio," answered Don Quixote;
" but henceforward I will endeavour to have ready at hand a sword
mode with such art that no kind of cncliantmeot can touch him that
wears it ; and perhaps forlune may put ine in possession of that of
Amadis, when he «died himself 'Knight of the buruin? sword,'
whicli was one of the best weapons that ever was worn by knight :
for, beside the virtue aforesaid, it cut like a razor; and no armour,
however stroi^ or enehanted, could withstand it." " Such is my
luck," nuoth Sancho, " that though this were so, and your worship
should find such a sword, it would oe of service only to those who aro
dubbed kniglita,— like the balsam : as for the poor st|uirea, thcv may
siuj sorrow." "Fear not, Sancho," said Don Quijote; "lleaTeii
will deal more kindly by thee."

The knipht and his squire went on conferring thus together,
wbcn Don Quixote perceived in tbo road on which they were travel-
lin;; a great and thick cloud of dust coming towards them ; upon
which bo turned to Soueho, and said, " Tins is the day, Ü Sancho,
that shall manifest the pood that fortune hath in store for nie. This
is the day, 1 say, ou which shall be proved, as at all tunes, the valour
of my arm; and on which I shall perform exploits tliat will be
reeomed aud written in the book of fame, and there remain to all
sueeeeding ages. Seest thou that cloud of dust, Sancho P It is
raised by a prodi.rious aniiy of divers and innumerable nations^ who
arcon the march this way. "If so, there mustbetwoorniies." said
Sancho; " for here, on this side, arises just such another oioud of
dust." Don Quixote turned, and seeing that it really was so, bu
rejoiced excee^gly, taking it fur Riauted they were two armies

" A.oogic

TBE TWO AEMIES. 75

coming to ensa^ in the midst of that spadous piala: for at all
houra and momenta hia imagiaatioD waa fuU of the battles, en-
chantnienis, adventures, eilravogancies, amonra, and cliallengca
detailed in his favourite books; and ¡a every tliougbt, 'woni, and
action lie rerertcd to them. Nov the cloud of dust ne saw vas
núscd b; two great flocks of sheep eoina the same road from dif-
ferent parts, and, as the dust concealed tliriii until they came near,
and UouQiuiole allirmed so fhositivcly that they were ormiea, Sancho
he^nu to believe it, and said, "Sir what then must we do'f" -
" What 1" replied Don Quixote — " fayour and assist the weaker
iidc! Thou must know, Sancho, tliat the army which marches
towards U9 in front is led and commanded by uic ^rcat eiiipcror
Alifunl'aroii, lord of the great island of Tapnibana: this other, which
morchea IwliJnd us, is that of his enemy, tie king of the Gararaantcs,
Pentapolin of the naked arm— for he always enters into battle with
hi? ri^'ht arm bare," " But why do these two princes beat ons
another so much ill-will?" demanded Sancho. They hate ouo
another," answcredDoo Quixote, "because this Alifimfaron is afurious
tm^an, in love with the daii^hter of Pentapolin, who is a most beau-
tiful and superlatively ¡zraccful htdy, and &\m a Christian; but her
father will not give her in marring to the p;untn kin», unless he will
first renounce tlic teliirion of liis false prophet Mahomet, and turn
t'hristian." "By my beard," said Pancho, "Pentapolin is in the
right ; and I am resolved to assist him to the utmost of my power."
" Therein thou wilt do tliy duty, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for
in order to eng^e in such contests it is not necessary to be dubbed a
knisht." " I easily comprehend that," answered Sancho. " But
where shall we dispose of this nss, that we may be sure to find him
when the fray is over P for I believe it was never yet the fashion to
go to battle on a beast of this kind." " Thou art in the right,"
said Don Quixote ; " and thou raaycst let him take his chance, whe-
ther he be lost or not : for we shall have such choice of horses after
the victory, that Kozinantc himself «ill run a risk of bein^ exchanged.
But listen with attention whilst I give thee an account of the prin-
cipal knights in the two approachini; armies ; and, that thou mayest
observe them the better, let us relire to that rising ground, whence
both armies may be distinctly seen." They did so, and plaoed them-
«dves for that purpose on a hillock, from which the two flocks which
Don Quiiote mistook for armies might easily have been discerned,
bad not their view been obstructed by the clouds of dust. Seeing,
bowevK, in his imamnatioa what did not eiist, be began with a
load voice to say : The knight tliou seest yonder with the gáded
armour, «b'^ bears on his shield a lion, crowned, concbant at a
damsel s feet, is the valorous Laurcalco, lord of the silver bridge.
The other, with the armour flowered with gold, who hears three
crowns ai^nt, in a field sxurc, is the formidable Micooolembo,
grand duke of Quitada. The third, with gigantic limbs, who marches
on his right, is uie undaunted BraudabarhFuiin of Boliche, lord of the
three Arabias. He is armed with a serpent's skin, and bears instead
of a shield, a ^te, wliich fame says is one of tjiose belonging to
the temple which Sampson pulled down wlion with his death he
avenged himself upon bis enemies. But turn thi:ic eyes on this
otha- side, and there tbou wilt see, in front of this other army,
the ever victorious and never viuuiuished Timonel de Caiwion^

76 DON <)ÜIXOIE.

prince of the New Biscay, who comes clad in armour quartered amre,
vert, ar^ent^ and oi'; brnrinein bis shield a cat or, in a field gules,
with a acroU inscribed MIAU, being the beginning of hia mistress's
Dame; who, it is reported, is the peerless Miaulina, daughter of
Alphenniquen, duke of Algarve. That other, who burdens and
oppresses the back of yon poweiful steed, whose armour is as white
as snow, aud his sbield aba uhite, without any device, he is a netr
Inieht, by birth a Frenchman, called Peter Papin, lord of the
baronies of Utrique. The oilier whom thou seest, with hia armed
heels pricking tíie flanks of that fleet uie-bald courser, and his armour
of pure azure, is the mighty duke of Neibía, EspartaQ lardo of Ihe
wood, whose device is an asparagus-bed, with this motto in Castilian,
' Bastre* mi suerte,' ' Thus drags my fortune.' "

In Ibis manner hewent on naming sundrr knights of eachsqnadron,
as his fancy dictated, and giving to each their arms, colours, devices,
' and mottoes extempore ; and, without pausing, he continued thus : —
"That squadron in the front is formed and composed of pcojile of
different nations. Bere stand those who drink the sweet waters of
the famous Xanthus; the mountaineers, who tread the Ma.ssiIiaQ
fields; those who sift the pure and fine gold-dust of Arabia Felix;
those who dwell along the famous and rerrcshing banks of the clear
Thennodon; those who drain, by divers and sunarr ways, the golden
veins of Pactolus ; the Numiaíans, unfaithful in their promises ; the
Persians, famous for bows and arrows: the Parthians and Medes,
whofight flying; the Arabiaa%pcrpctuallvi^aiisinf their habitations;
the Scythians, as cruel as fair ; the bruaú-lippcd Ethiopians ; and an
infinityof other nations, whose countenances Iscc and know, although
I cannot recollect their names. In that other squadron come tLos»
who drink the crvstol streams of olivc-beanng ijetis ; those who
brighten and polish their faces with the Lquor of the ever rich and
golden Tagus; those who enjoy the beneficial walei-s of the divine
tienil; Utose who tread the lartesian fields, abounding in jiaslure;
those who recreate themselves in the FHysion meads of Xercza ; the
rich Manchegons, crowned with yellow ears of com ; those clad in
iron, the antique remains of the Gothic race; thojc who bathe Ihein-
selves in Pisuerga, famous for the gentleness of its cnrrcut; those
who feed llieir iloeks on the ajiacious pastures of the winding Guadi-
ana, celelirnted for its hidden source ; those who sliiver on the cold
browof IhcHoody Pyreneus,nnd tlie snowv to[js of lofty Appcninus;
in a word, all that Europe contains and includes."

Good heaven, how many provinces did he name I how many nations
did he enumerate ! giving to each, with wouderfid readiness, its peeu-
liar attributes. Suicho Panza stood confounded at his di»coun>e.
without speaking a word; and now and then he turned his brad
about, to see whether he could discover the kniglits aud giants his
master named, llut seeing none, he said -. " Sir, the devil a man, or
giant, or knii;lit, of all you have named, eon I sec anjwhere ; pcrlmtis
alt may be enchantment, like last night's goblins." " How &iyest
thou, Sancho Í" answered Don Quixote. "Ilearcst thou pot the
neighing of the steeds, the sound of the trumpets, and the rattling of
the drums?" "I hear nothinfr," answeri'd Sancho, "but the blcau
ins of sheep and lambs :" and so it was ; for now the two flocks were
come very near them. "Thy fears, Sancho," Mid Don Quixote,
"prevent Ihcc from bearmj or seeing aiight; foe one ciTect of fear

,..,,.. :A.OOglC

HIS TOSDROrS SNCOÜXTBB, 77

is to dbtarb the senses, and m^e Ihioas not to nppcar wliat thejr
reallj' are : and if tliou art eo mucli afraid, retire and lesvc mc alone ;
for witll mf single arm J shall insure victory to that side which I
favour with mjr assistance :" then cUppinj; spurs to Hozinante, and
setting his hince in rest, he darted down the nillock Ute hglitiiing.
Saneho cried out to him, "Hold, Sianor Don Quixote, come back!
As God shall save me, they aie lambs and iherp you are going to
encounter! Fray come back. Woe to the father that begot me!
what madness is this ? Look; there is neither giant nor knight, nor
cats, nor arms, nor shields quartered cor entire, nor true azures nor
bedevilled; sinner that I ain! what are you doinft?" Notwithstand-
ing all this, Don Quixote turned not a¿ÜD, but still went on, crying
aloud, " Ho ! knights, you that follow and ñ^ht under the banner of
tlic vahant Emi>eror l'enta]><>lin of the naked arm, follow me all, and
jOQ shall sec with how muehease I revenge him on his enemy Alifan-
faioa of Taprobana." With these words, he rushed into the midst of
tho squadron of sheep, and be^n to attack thein with his lance as
, oouríKcously and intrepidly aa if in good earnest he was enga^ng his
mortal enemies. The shepherds and herdsmen who came with the
flocks called out to him to desist ; but, seeing it was to no purpose,
they UDbucLled tbeir slin^, and bc^an to salnte his ears with a
shower of stones. Don Quixote careifnut for the stones ; but, (;allop-
ing sbontonall aides, cried out, "Where ait thou, proud Ahfanl'aron?
Present thi self before me : 1 am a single kuight, desiians to prove thy
valour hand to hand, and to punish thee with the loss of life, for tho
wrong thou doat to the valiant Pentapolin Garamanta." At that
instant a Urge stone struck him niih snoh violence on the side, that
it buriedacoupieof ribsinhis body; insomuch that he believed him-
self cither slaiu or sorely wounded ; and tlierefore, remembering hia
balsam, he pulled out the cruse, and applying it to his mouth, began
to swallow some of the liquor ; but before ne oould take what he
tbonght sufficient, another of those almonds hit hiiu full on the hand,
and dashed the cmse to pieces : carrying off three or four of his teeth
by the way, and grievouwy broismg two of his fingers. Such was the
fiist bbw, and such the second, that the poor kuight fell from bis
horse to the ground. The shepherds ran to him, and verily believed
they had killed him; wherenpon in all hnste they collected their
flock, took up their dead, which were about seven, and marched off
without farther inquiry.

All this while Sanchostoodnpon the hillock, beholding his master's
extravagances : tearing his beard, and cursing the unfortunate hour
and moment that ever he knew him. Uut seeing him fallen to the
ground, and the shepherds ^ne off, he descended from the hillock,
and, ruimin;; to him, found him iu a very ill plight, though not quite
bereaved of sense: and said to him, "Did Inotoegyou, SignorDon
Quixote, to come back ; for those yon went to attack were a flock of
sheep and not anarmy of men?" " How easily," replied Don Quix-
ote, can that thief of an enchanter, my enemy, traosform thii^a or
make them invisible ! Thou must know, Sancho, that it is a very easy
matter fur such men to give things what semblance they please ; and
this malignant ^ersecator of mine, envious of the glory that he saw I
sboold acquire in this buttle, has transformed the hostile squadrons
into flocks of sheep. However, do one thing. Suncho, for my sake, to
undeceive tlijself and see tlic truth of what 1 tell thee; mount (by

, , ,. .A.OOgIC

79 son QinXOTK,

ass, and follow tlicm fairl; and softly, sod tliou vrtll find that, wlien
they are ^ot a little farther off, tliey will return to their first fonn,
and, ceasin? to be sheep, will become men, proper and tall as Í
deacribed them at first. But do not go now; lorlwant thf assist-
ance ; come and aee how many of my t«cth are deficient ; for it seems
to me that 1 have not one left in myhead. Sancho cama so dose to
him that he almost thrust bis eyes ¡uto his moutb; and bcins pre-
cisely at the time that the balsam beftan to work in lion Quixote's
stomachy tliecontcDts thereof wereatiliat instant discharged with as
much violence as if shot out of a demi-culverin^ direct^ upon the
beard oftlio compassionate squire. " Blessed Virsin ! " tjuoth &incho,
"what has befallen me? Tliis poor sinner must be mortally wounded,
since he vomits blood at the mouth." But, reflectins a little, lio
found bj the colou?, savour, and smell, that it was not blood, but tlie
balsam which be had seen him drink: and so great was the loathing
he then felt, that his stomach tamed, and be vomited np bis very
entrails upon his ni'ster, so that tbev were both in a precious picklo.
Raueho ran to bis jss, to take sometliiui out of bis wallets to cleanse
hiraseÍ4 and cure ois master ; but not finding them, he was very near
running distracted. Ko cursed himself again, and resolved in bis
miiid to leave his master, and return borne, although be should loss
his wages for the time past, and bis hopes of the promised island,

Don Quiiote now raised himself up, and, placing bis left hand on
his moutk to prevent the remainder of his teeth from falling out, with
the other he laid hold ou Rozinante's bridle, who had not stirred from
his master's side, such was bis fidelity ; and went towards bis sijuire,
tIio stood leaning with his breast upon the asa, and his cheek reclining
upon his hand, in the posture of a man overwhelmed with thought.
Uon Quiiote seeing bim thus, and to all appearance so melancholy,
■aid to him : " Know, Sancho, that one man is no more tlian another,
only inasmuch as he docs more than another. All these storms that
we have eaconntcred are signs that the weather will soon clear up,
and things will go smoothly; for it is impossible that either evil or

Ead should be durable; and hence it follows that, the evil having
ted long, the good cannot bo far oiT. So do not afflict thyself for
the mischances that befal me, since thou hast no share in them."
"How no share in them P" answered Sancho : " persdventure he they
tossedinablanket yesterday was not my father's son; and thewallela
I have lost to4ay, with all my moveables, belong to somebodv else P "
■' "VVTiat, are the wallets lost ? '' quoth Don (juiioie. " Yes. tliey are,"
answered Sancho. " Then we have nothing to eat to.day," repUed
Don Quixole. " It would be so," answered Sancho, " if tnose fields
did not produce those herbs which your worsliip says you know, and
with which unlucky knights-errant uke your worship areusedt» snp-

{ly such wants." "Nevertheless," saidlJonQuixote, "at this time
would rather have a slice of bread and a couple of heads of salt pil-
ohards than all the herbs described bv Dioaeondes, thongh commenWd
upon by Doctor Laguna* húnself. But. good Sancho, get upon thj
OSS, and follow me; for God, who proriaes for all, will not desertas;
more especially, being enga¿ed, as we are, in liis service : since Ho
nesrlects neither the gnats of the air, the womis of the earth, nor the
spawn of the waters i and so merciful is He, that llemaketh His sun

* Andre* da laguna, t>aiii at Scgovlo, and Pbyñcian to Popo Julio III.

,;,,. .A.OOgIC

to sKInE upon the pood and the bai and canseth the rain to fsU upon
the just and unjust." " Your Ttiirsfiip," said Sancho, " would tiiake a
bellcrprcacherthanaknight-emtut. " Sancho," said Don Quiiote,
" the knowlcd^ of k nights -errant must be universal ; there have been
knights -errant, in times past, whov ould make aennons or hanuij^es
ontliektng'shiiihwav,assuccrssfullía3Íf thejbad taken I heir derrees
in tlie UniYcrsity of Paris : whence it may be iuferred that the Wee
never blunted the pen, nor the pen the Unce." "Well! be it aa your
worship says," anstrercd Sancho ; " but let ns be gone hrnce, and
endeavoar to get a lodging to-ni|;ht : and pray heaven it be where
there are neitlier blankets nor blanket-heavers, nor hobgoblins nor
enchanted Moors ; for if tliere be, the devil take both the flock and
the fold."

" Prev to God, mj; son," said Bon Qaiiote, " and lead me whither
thou wilt; for this time I leave our lodging to thy eboice ; but reach
liither thy hand and fee) how many teeth are wanting on the right
side of my upper jaw ; for there I feel the pain," Sancho put ion
£nger into his mouth, and feeling about, said : " How many teeth had
TOur worship on this aidef" — "Four," answered Don Quiiote,

besides the eye-tooth, all perfect and sound." "Think well what
Tou say, sir," answered Siuicho. " I say four, if not five," answered
Don Quiiote ; " for in my whole Ufe I never had a tooth drawn, nor
have I lost one bv rheum nor decay." " Well, then," slid Sancho.
" on this lower siae your worship has but two teeth and a half; and
in the upper, neither half nor whole : all is as smooth and even aa the

Én of my hand." " Unfortunate that I am I" said Don Quiiol*.
ring these aad tidings from hia squire ; " I had rather they had
UiTD off an arm, provided it were not the sword-arm ; for tlion must
know, Sancho, tt^t a mouth without teeth is Lke a mill without a
stone; and that a diamond is not so precious as a tooth. But to all
this wo who profess the strict order of chivalry are liable. Mount,
£iend Sancho, and lead on ; for I will folbw tbcc at what pace tiiou
wilt." Sancho did bo, and proceeded in a direction in which he
tlioaght it probable they niight find a lodgiiw, without going out of
the high-rimd, which in that part was muef fre(|uented. As they
slowly puraued their wai?, for the pain of Don Quinote's jaws fjave
him no ease, nor inclination to make haste, Sancho, witihing to amuse
and divert him, began to converse: uui said among otuer tbmgs
what will be found in the following chapter.

CHAPTER XIX.

" It is my opinion, air, that all the misfortunes which have befallen
Tis of late are douhtiess in punishment of the sin committed by your
worship against your own order of knighthood, in nealcctin? to per-
form the oath yon took, not to eat hread on a tablecloth, nor solace
foonelf with the qaeen, with alt the rest that you swoie, until you

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60 1>0S QÜKOTB.

luid taken nvay the helmet of lifalandrmo — or hovr do fou call the
Moor, for I do not well remember ? " " Sandio, tliou art in the
right," said Don Quiiote ; " but, to confess the truth, it had wholly
escaped my memory ; and rely unon it, the afTair of liie blanket hap-
pened to tbee as a puniishnieut tor not haviu;? reminded me sooner :
but I will make compensation; for in the order of chivnlry there ara
ways of compounding for everythini;." " Wliy, did I swear any-
thing?" siud Sancbo. "That Ihou hast not sworn araila tliee do-
tiling," replied Don Quiiol«; "it i» enough that I know thou art not
free from the guilt of an accessary ; and, at all events, it will not h»
amiss to provide ourselves a remedy." " If that be the case," said
Sancho, take care, sir, you do not foi^t this, foo^ as you did the
oath: perhaps the ^blins may aiuu take afancytodivcrltliemselTCS
witli me, or with your worship, if they find you so obstinate."

While they were thus discoursing, night overtook tiiem, and they
were still in the high-road, without having foand any place of recep-
tion ; and the worst of it was they were lamislied with Imnger ; for
with their wallets they had lost their whole larder of provisions, and
to complete their misfortunes an adventure now beid them which
appeared indeed to be truly an adventure. The night came ou raiher
dark ; notwithstanding which they proceeded : as Sancho hoped that,
being on the king's highway, they might very probaWy find an inn
wilhjn a league or two. Tiius situated, the night dart, the sc|uire
hungry, and the master well disposed to cat, tliey saw, advancing
towards them, on the some road, a great number of^lights, resembling
so many moviag stars. Sancho stood aghast at the sight of them, nor
was Don Quiiote unmoved. The one checked ins ass and the other
his horae, and both stood looking before them with eager attention.
They perceived that the lights were advancing towards them, and
that ns they approached nearer they appeared larger. Sancho trem-
bled like quicksilver at the sight, and Don Quixote's hair bristled
upon his head: but, somewhat recovering lumself, be exclaimed:
" Sancho, this must be a most perilous adventure, wherein it will be
necessary for meto eiert my whole might and valonr." "Woe is me !"
answered Sancho : " shoula this prove to be an adventure of goblins,
as to me it seems tobe, where sliall I find libs to endure?" What-
soever phantoms tliey may be," said Don Quijote, "I will not suffer
them Ut touch a thread of thy garment; for, if thev sported with
thee before, it was because I coula not get over the walL : but we are
now upon even ground, where I can brandish my sword ot pleasure."
" But, if they should enchant and benumb you, as they did then,"
quoth Sandio, " what matters it whether we are in the open field, or
not?" "Notwithstanding that," repiiedDon Quiiote, " I beseech
tlicc, Sancho, to be of good cour^: for eipericoce shall give thee
sufficient proof of mine." "I will, if it please God," answered San-
cho ; and, retiring a little on one ude of the rood, and again endea-
vouring to discover what those walking lights miirht be. they soon
after perceived a great many persons clothed in white. This dread-
ful spectacle completely annihilated the courage of Sancho, whose
teeth began to chatter, as if seized with a quartan ague; and hia
trenibling and chattering increased as more of it apjieared in view :
for now they discovered about twenty jiersons id white robes, oil on
horseback, with lighted torches in their hands -, behind them came a
litter covered with bkok, which waa followed by six peisons in deep

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Uigniaüb, Google

Uigniaüb, Google

8S DOIT QUIXOTE.

70a wonlii cammit & great sncrilege ; for I am a licentiate, and Iiave
taken the leaser nrders." " Who the devil, then-" said Don Quixote,
"brouttht you hither, being an ecclesiastic?" Who, airP" replied
the fallen man; "my evil fortune." "A worse fate now threatens
you," said Bon Quixote, "unless you reply satisfactorily to ail m;
first (jnestiona." "Your worship shall soon be satisfied," answered
the liceDtiate; "and therefore you must know, sir, that, though I
told you before I was a licentiate, I am in fact only a bachelor of art^
and my name is Alonzo Lopez. I am a native of Alcovecdas, and
came from the city of Baeza, with eleven more ecclesiastics, the same
■who fled with the torches ; we were attending the corpse in that litter
to the city of Segovia. It is that of a gentleman who died in Baeza,
where he was deposited till now that, as I said before, we are canyini
his bones to their place of bnrial in Segovia, where he was bom.
"And who killed himP" demanded Don Quiiote. " (?od," replied
the bachelor, "by means of a pestilential fever." "Then," said
Don Quixote, " our Lord hath saved me the labour of revenpng his
death, in case he had been símq by any other hand. But, smce be
fell by tlie hand of Heaven, there is nothing eipected from us but
patience and a silent sbnig : for just the same must I have done had
it been His pleasure to pronounce tbe ^tal sentence upon me. It is

$ roper that your reverence should know that I am a knight of La
Ianclia,Don Quixote byname ; and that it is my office and profession
to eo over the world, rigliting wTonjra and redressina; gnevanees."
"Ido notunderstacdyourway of righting wronff3,"síi!a the bachelor:
" for from right you have set me wroug, havtne orokeu my lefr, wliich
will never be right again whilst I live ; and the grievance you have
redressed for me is to leave me so aggrieved that I shall never be
otherwise ; and to me it was a most omucky adventure to meet you,
who are seeking adventures." " All tbinj^s, answered Don Quijote,
" do not fall out the same way : the mischief, master bachelor Alonzo
Lopez, was occasioned by your coming, as you did, bv night, arrayed
in those snrptices, with hghl«d torches, chanting, and clad in doleful
weeds, so that you really resembled something evil and of the otber
world. I was therefore bound to perform my duty, by attacking you :
which I certainly should have done although jou nad really been, as I
imagined, devils from hcil." " Since my fale ordained it so," said the
baeliejor, " I beseech you, Signor Kni|:ht-errant, who have done me
such arrant mischief, to help me to get from under this mule, for my
leg is held fast between the stirrup and the saddle." " 1 might have
coutbued talking until to-morrow, said Don Quixote; "why did you
delay Bcqnaiuting rao withyour embarrassment?" He then called out
to Sancho Panza to assist: but he did not choose to obey, being em-

Eloycd in ransacking a sumpter-mule, which those pious men had
rou^ht with Iheiii, well stored witli eatables. Sancho made a bog- of
his illoak, and bavinK crammed into it as much as it would hold, he
loaded his beast; uter which he attended t« his master's call, and
lielped to disrnjnge the bachelor from the oppression of his mule;
una, having; mounted him and given him the torch, Don Quixote bade
hiui follow the track of his companions, and beg ilieir pardon, in his
nnme, for the injury which lie coald not avoid doiug them- Sancho
likewise sai<t, " If perchance those genllemeu would know who is the
t'h»muion that routed them, it is the fnmous Don Quixote de la
Moncha, otherwise called ' the knight cd the sonowf ul ñsant.' "

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TOS KiriGBT OF IBB SDIIÜL COÜSTBBARCB.

, h*

tLanaiauyother. "I will telljou," answered Sancho; "itisbecaose
I have been viewinz joa b; the li;;lit of the torch, which th&t nn/or-
tunatc man carriea; and. in truth, vonr worship at present verj
nearly makes the most woeful figure I have ever aeen; which must be
owing, I suppose either to the fatizue of this combat, or tjie want of
jour teeth. " It is owing to neither," replied Don Quixote ; '' bat
the sajce, who bos the cbai^ of writing the histor; of my achieve-
nients, has deemed it proper for me to assame on appeUatioji, like the
knights of old i one of whom citlled hiuiaelf 'the knight of the
burning sword;' another 'of the unicorn;' this 'of the damsels;'
that 'of the phcenix;' another 'the knight of the griffin;' mm
another 'the knight of death;* and by those names and eiuigns thej
were known over the whole «orfaee of the earth. Aud therefore I
sa; that the sage I jiut now mentioned has pat it into thv thoughtB
and into thy moutb to call me 'the knight of the sorrowful figure,' m
I purpose to call myself from this day forward ; and that this name
may fit me the better, 1 determine, when «n onportunity offers, to
bate a most sorrowful figure painted on my shield. " You need not
spend time and money in getting this figure made," said Sancho;

your worship need only show your own, and, without any other
iniage or sbiclo, tbey will immediately call you ' him of the sorrowful
figure;' and be assured I tell you Ute truth; fori promise you, sir
(mind, I speak in jest), that hnnKsr and the loss oi your grinders
makes you look so mefully that, as I said before the sairowfuTpiotare
may very well be sp^ed.

tkm Quixote smiled at Sancho's pleasantry ; nerertbcleas, he
resolved to call himself by that name, and to have his sliield or
buckler painted accordingly, and be said: "I conceive, Sanolio, thai
I am liable to excommunication for having laid violent hands on hoi;
thinga, ' Juita iUud, Siuuis sundente diabolo,' &c. ; although I know
I dia not lay my hands, Dut my spear, upon them. Besides, I did not
know that I was engaging with priest^, or things belonging to tbe
Church, which I reverence and adore, like a goodCathoLc and faith-

ful Christian as I am, but with phantoms ana spectres of the otbw
■world. And even were it otherwise, I perfectly remember what
bcfel the Cyd Euy Diaz, when he broke the chair of that king's ambas-
sador in the presence of his holiness tlie Pope, for which hewasexoom-
municated; >et honest Bodcrigo da Vivar passed that day for aa
bonourable and courageous knight."

The bachelor having departed, as hath been said, Don Quixote
wished to examine whether the corpse in the heane consisted only of
bones or not ; but Sancho would not consent, saying, " Sir, your
worship bas finished this perikius adventure at less expense than anr
I have seen; and though these folks are conquered and defeated
they mav chance to refiect that they were beaten by one man, and,
being asaamed thereat, may recover themselves, and return in quest
of 03, and then we ma^ have enough to do. The ass is properly
furnished; the mountain is near; hungerpreBses,andwB have nothing
to do hut decently to march off; and, aa the saying is, ' To the prave
wilU the dead, and tiie liviag to the bread;'" imd, driving on his ^
before him, he entreated his master to follow; who, thinking Sancho
in the tiiflit, followed without replying. They had not gone for

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84 DOH quaoTB.

between two hills, when thej found themseWes in a retired and
spacious valley, where they alighted. Soncbo disburdeoed his beast ;
and, entended on the green grass, with hunger for sauce, tliey des-
patched their breakfast, dinner, afleniooii's luncheon, and sapper, all
at once : regaling their palates with more than one cold mess, which
the ecclesiastics wlio attenilcd the deceased (such gentlemen seldom
failing in a provident attention to tbemselvcs) liad brougbt witb them
on the sumpter-mule. But there was anolher mbfortune, wliicb
Sancho accounted the worst of all j namely, they had no wine, nor
even water, to drink ; and were, moreover, parched with thirst,
^Pf— ---'■- ' -' - ^ '- ■

p _id £■

following chapter.

CHAPTER XS.

Of lit unparalUlid adventur,
with Itu haiard than an
inight ñ the morid.

" It is impossible, air, but then) must be some fonntajn or brooknear,
to make these herbs so fresh, and therefore, if we go a little farther
on. Vie may meet with something fo quench the terrible thirst that
afliicts OS, and which is more painful than hunger itself." Don
Quixote approved the counsel, and, taking Itozinante by the bridle,
and Sancho his ass by the halter (after he nad placed upon him the
kUcs of the supper), the; began to march forward throueh the meadow,
feeling their way ; for the night was so dark, they could see nothing.
But they had not gone two hundred paces when a great noise of water
reached their ears, like that of some mighty cascade pouring down
irom a vast and steep rock. The sound rejoiced them exceedingly,
and, stopping tfl liatenwbenceit came, they heard on asuddcnanother
dreadful noise, which abated the pleasure occasioned by that of the
water ; especially m Sancho, who was naturally faint-iiearted. 1 sav
they heardT a dreadful din of irons or rattling chains, accompanied with
mighty strokes repeated in regular time and measure; which, together
with tlie fiirious noise of the water, would have struck terror into any
nther heart hut lliat of Don Quinóte. The night, as wo have bcfora
said, was dark: and llicv clianced tocnteragroveof tall trees, whoso
leaves, agilalea bv the nree;ic. caused a kind of rustljns noise, not
loud, tliough rcnrfnl : so that tlic solitude, llic situation, tíie darkness,
and the sound of rushiiig water, willi the agitated leaves, all concurred
to produce surprise and horror, esnecially wlicn Ilicy fouud that neither
the blow) ceased, nor the wind slept, nor the morning approached;
and m addition I«all this was their total ignorance of the place where
they were in. But Don Quixote, supi«rted by his intrepid heart,
leaped upon Koiinanle, and, bracing on his buckler, bninaished his
spear, and Aaid : "Friend Sancho, know that, by the will of Heaven,
t was bom in this age of iron to revive in it that of gold, or, as it ia
uniallr tvraied, ' Ibe golden ■)[«.* I am he for whom dangers, great

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USCBíys miBZATT.

twelve peers of France, and the nine worthies ; and to oblitertt« the
memory of the Pbtirs, the Tablantes, OlifanteB, and Tirantes, ' knight*
of the SQU.' and the Belianiaea, with the whole tribe of the famoiia
kniriits-crrant of times past i perforniing, in this age. inch stupeadoiu
deeds and feals of arms as are sufficient to obscure the briaLtcst ever
achieved b^ them. Trusty and loyal squire, observe the darLoess of
this niyht, its strange silence, the confused sound of these trees, the
fearful noise uf that water which we came hither in aearch of, and
which, one woold think, precipitates itself headlong from the hi^U
mountains of the moon ; that incessant striking and clashing which
wound our ears : all these together, and even each separately, are
■ufBcient to infuse terror, fear, and amaicment info the breast of Mars
himself ; how much more into that of one unaccustomed to such
adventures I Yet all I have described serves but to rouse and awaken
my courage, and my heart already bounds within my breast with eager
desire to eneoonter this adventure, however difficult it may appear.
ThereftH^ tigiiten Bozinante'a girth, and God be with tbee I Stay foe
me here three days, and no more ; if 1 return not in that time, thou
mavest go back to our village ; and Ihenr^. to oblige me, repair to
Tohoso, and inform my incomparable lady Dulcinea that her enthralled
knight died in attempting things that might hare made him worthy to
be stvled hers."

Wlien Sancho heard these words of biB master, he dissolved into
tears, and said, " Sir, I cannot think why your worship should encounter
this fearful adventure. It is now night, and nobody sees us. We
may easily tnm aside, and ect out of danger, though we should not
drink these three days ; and, being unseen, we cannot be taxed with
cowardice. Besides, I have heard the curate of our village, whom
;oar worship knows very well, say in the pulpit that ' he who secketh
danger perianeth therein : ' so that it is not good to tempt God by
undertating so eitrava^nt an exploit, whence there is no escaping
but by a raxrach;. Let it suffice that Heaven saved yon from being
tossed in a blanket, as I was, and brought you off victorious, safe, and
Boand, from among so many enemies as accompanied the dead man.
And il all this be not sudicient to soften your stony heart, let this
assurance move you, that, scarcely sliall yonr worship be departed
hence, when I, for very fear, sliall give up my soul to whosoever shall
be pleased to take it. I left my country, and forsook my wife and
children, to follow and serve your worship, believing I should be the
better and not the worse for it ; but, as covetousncss burst the bag,
so hath it rent my hopes ; for when they were most alive, and I n as
hist eipecting to obtain that cursed and unlucky island, which you
Save so often promised me, I find myself, in lieu thereof, ready to
be abandoned by your worship in a place remote from everything
human. For heaven's sake, dear sir, do not be so cruel to me : and
if your worship will not wholly rive up this enterprise, at least defer
it till daybreak, which, bv what! learned when a sheulierd, cannot be
above three hours ; for tbe muzzle of the north-bear * is at the top of

S6 SON Qütxora.

tliehead,and malíes midnight in the line of the left arm." "How
CBDst tbou, Saoclio," said l)ou Ouixote, " see where this line is made,
or where this muizle or top of trie heaa may be, since the night is so
dark, that not a star api>ears in the whole sfcjF" "True," said
Sancho ; " but fear lias maiw e,ves, and sees thii^cs beneath t!ic eitrth,
much more above the ski ; besides, it is reasonable to suppose that it
does not want much of daybreak. " Want wbat it may, answered
Don Quixote, " it shall never be said of me, now nor at any time, that
tears or entreaties could dissuade me from performing the duty of a
knight : therefore I pra; thee, Sancho, be silent; for God, who has
inspired me with courage to attempt this unparalleled and fearful
adventure, will not fail Ui watch over my safety, and comfort thee in
ihy sadness. All thou hsat to doia to girt Bozmante well, and remain
here ; for I will quickly return alive or dead."

Sancho, now seeing nia master's final resolution, and how Ultle his
tears, prayers, and counsel availed, determined to have recourse to
strataEem, and compel him, if possible, to wait until d^ ; therefore,
while he was tightcniiw the horse's girths, softly and unnerceived
with his halter lie tied Rozinante's hinder feet together, so that when
I)oQ Quisote would fain have departed, the horse could move only by
jumps. Sancho, perceiving the success of his contrivance, said; "Ah.
air ! behold bow Heaven, moved by my tears and prayers, nas ordained
that Roúnante should be unable to stir; and if fou will obstinately
persist to spur him, you will but provoke fortune, and, as they say.
kick against the pncis.'" This made Bon Quixote quite aeaperate, and
the more he spurred his horse, the less he could move him ; he there.
fore thought it best to be quiet, and wait ontQ day appeared, or until
Eozinante could proceed, never suspecting the artífice of Sancho,
whom he thus addressed: "Since so it is, Sancho, that Eozinante
cannot move, I consent to wait until the dawn smiles, althoiigli I weep
in the interval." "Yonneednotweep,"an3weredSancho, ' forlwill
entertain vou until day by telling you stories, if you liad not rather
alight ana compose yourself to sleep a little upon the green grass, as
kn^hts-errant are wont to do, so that you maybe less weary when the
day and hour comes for engaging in that terrible adventure you wait
for." "To whom dost tiou talk of alighting or sleeping P" said Don
Quixote; " am I one of those knights who take repose in time of
danger ? Sleep thou, who wert born to sleep, or do what thou wilt ;
I shall act as becomes my profession." " Pray, good sir, be not angry,"
answered Sancho, " I did not mean to offend vou : and, coming close
to him, he laid hold of the saddle before and tichind, and thus stood
embracing his master's left thigh, without daring to stir from him a
finger's breadth, so much was he afraid of the blows which still con-
tinued to sound in regular succession. Don Q^iixote bade liim tell
some story for his entertainment, as he had promised: Sancho replied
that he would, if his dread of the noise would permit him ; " I will
endeavour," said he, " in spite of it, to tell a story, which, if I can hit
upon it, and it slips not through my fingers, is the best of all stories ;
and I Iwg TOUT worsliip to be attentive, for now 1 bciiin : —

"What Dath been, hath been; tbe good that shall befal he for ns a]],
and evil to him that evil seeks. And pray, air, take notice that the
beginning which the ancients gave to their tales was not just what they
pleased, but rather some sentence of Cato Zonzorinus the Roman, w' "

nji, ' ADd eTÜ be la him that evil seeks ; ' which fits tim nreaent por-

T.oogic

a^CBO'fl BTQBZ. 87

pose like & ring to tout finger, signiff ing that four vonbip sbodd be

quiet, aiid not go abont aeareliing after evii, but rather that we turn
aside into some other road ; for we are under no obligalion lo continuo
in this, where we are overtaken by so manv tears. " Proceed with
thj tale, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and leaic to my care the road
we Me to follovf." "I.say, then," continued Sancho, "that in ayil.
lage in Estramadnra, there was a shepherd — I mean a goatherd; wliich
shepjierd, or goatherd, as mj story says, was called Lope Kuiz ; and
this Loi* Ruiz was in lore with a shepherdess called Torralva ; which
shepherdess called Torralf a was daughter to a rich herdsman, and this
ricli herdsman—" " If tliis be thy manner oí telling a story, Sancho,"
said Don Ouiiote, "repeating ererything thou hast to say, ihou witt
not have done these two days : tell it concisely, and like a mau of
«ense or else say no more." " I tell it in the same manner that llicy
tell all stories in my eounlry," answered Sancho ; " and I cannot tell
it otherwise, nor ought your worship lo require me to mate new cus-
toniB." " Tell it as thou wilt, then, said Don Quiiote ; " since it is
the will of fate that I must hear thee, go on."

" And so, sir " continned Sancho, aa I said befor^ this shepherd

■■ ■'- ' '-'^ ''■■'. sheyherdcss Torral'" -'• ■""" "* ■ —

oinful, and somewha

; and methiiiks 1 s(

said Don Quiiote,

o-<..<.u ..W.I...1U, >[Ut hewho toldme tliiii ^•.•Ji, »iu iv ••»

and true, thatlmight, when I told it to another, affirm and;. __.

I had seen it alL And so, in process of time, the devil, who sleeps
not, and troubles all tilings, brought it about, that the love which the
shepherd bore to the shepherdess, turned into mortal haired: and the
cause, according to evil tongues, was a certain quantity of little icA-
buücB she gave him, so as lo exceed all bounds : and so much did be
hate her thenceforward, that, to shun the sight of her, he chose to
absent himself from that country, and go where his eves should never
more behold her. Torralva, who fonnd herself disdained by Lope,
then began to love hhn better than ever she had Ipied him before.
"It is a disposition natural in women," said Don Qiiiiote, "to slight
those who love them, and love those who bate them: — go on,
Sancho."

" It fell out," proceeded Sancho, "that the shepherd put his design
into execution ; and, collecting together his goats, went over the
plains of Estremadura, in order to pass over the Kingdom of Portugal.
IFpon which, Torralva went after him, and followed him at a distance,
onfootand hare-legged, with a pilgrim's staff in her hand, and a wallet
about her neck( in which she carried, as is reported, a pieceof looking
ehiss, the remains of a comb, and a kind of small gallipot of patnt for
the face. But whatever she carried (for I shall not now set myself to
vonch what it was), I only tell you that, as they say, the shepherd
came with his flock to p^ús the river Gimdiana, which at that time
was swollen, and had almost overflowed its banks ; and on the side he
came to there was neither boat nor anybody to ferry him or his flock
over to the other side, which grieved him mightily ; for he saw that
Torralva was at bis heels, and would give him much disturbance by
her entreaties and tears, ne therefore looked about him nntil he
espi^ a fisherman with a boat near him, but so smidi that it could
hold only one person and one goat ; however, he spoke to him, and
A.OOgIC

W DON QUIXOTE.

tgreed to csir; orer binuelf and his three Lundred goals. The ñsher-
man got into the boat, and carried over a goat; he tetunicd, and
carnea over another; he came bade again, and a^ain carried over
another. Ftay. sir, keep an account of the goats that the fisiierman
is carrymK over ; for if you lose connt of a single goat, the story ends,
and it will be impossible to tell a word more of it. I go on then ana
sa; that Ijje laudins-ptace on the opposite side was covered with mad,
and slipper}', and the fisbernian was a great while coining and going.
However, he returned for another goat, and another, and another."
"Suppose them all carried over," said Don Quixote, "and do not be
going and coming in this manner; or thou vfilt not have finished
carrjing Ihem over in a twelvemonth." "How many have passed
already ? " said Sancho. " How tbe devil slionld I know ? " answered
Boa Quixote. " See there now ! did I not tell tbee to keep an eiact
account ? Before Heaven, there is an end of the story ; I can go no
farther." "How can this bef" answered Don Quixote. "Is it so
essential to the story to know the eiact number oí goata that
passed OTer, that, if one error be made, the story can proceed on
larlher?" "No, sir, by no means," answered Sancho; for when I
desned yoor worship to tell me how miui][ gouts bad passed, uid you
answered you did not know, at that very instant all that I had to say
fled out of my memory ; and in faith it was very edifying and satisfac-
tory." "So, tlien," said Don Quixote, "the stoir ia at an end?"
"As sure as my mother is," quoth Sancho. " Verilv" answered
njon puixote. " thou hnst told one of the rarest tides, fonlea, or liisto-
ries, imaginable ; and thy mode of rclatiug and concluding it is audi
as never was, nor ever wjU be, equalled ; although I expected no less
from thy good sense : however, I do not wonder at ilj for tliia inccs-
sant din may have disturbed thy understanding." " All that may be,"
answered Sancho, " but, as to my story, I know there's no more to be
told; for it endajustwhcretheerrorbegiosin the account of carrying
over the goat»."* " Let it end where it wül. in God's name," said
Don Quixote, " and let us see whether Itozinante can stir himself."
Add he clapped spurs to him, and aaain the animal jumped, and then
atood stock still : so effectually was he fettered.

In this position they passed the night; and when Sancho perceived
the dawn of jnomin^, with much csiitlon he unbound Rozinante, who,
on being set at hberlj, though nalurally not over mettlesome, seemed
to feel himself alive, and beiian to paw the ground ; but as for curvet-
ting (beciring his pardon) he knew nothing about it. Don Quixote,
pereeivit^ihat Itozinante beican to be active, look it for a good omen,
and a sizuol that he should forthwith attempt the trcuicnaoiis adven-
ture. The davm now making the surrounding objects visible, Dou
Quiiotc perceived he was beneath sonie tall cheslnut.treea, which
afforded a gloomy shade; but the cause of ihat strikiiii;, which vet
continued, he was miable to discover ; therefore, without furliier
delay, he made Kozinante feel the spur, and again taking leave of
Sancho, connnanded him to wait there three days at the farlhcat, aa
he had said before, and that if he returned not by thut time, he might

* This tale was not the inventí^n <i( Corviinl«9 ; for, thoogh altsred nnd
im^.roved by him, the idea u tiikeix truin the "Cenlo Xovello Anliilie,"
which are igiven M Lha end ui the "Cuuto NovoUo Scelt»," published at
VeniiM> ia the year lá71.

THE FULLIXO-MILLS. 89

«mdude that it «u God's will that he should end liis davs in that

Brilous advenlure. He &eaÍD abo repcairtt the embassy and nie^sase
was to carry to bis lady Dulcini-a ) and as to wliat concerned Ihe
leward of his service, be told biin that ho need be under no Cduecro,
Buice, before his departure from bis villajte, he had made his will,
wherein he «oold fiod himself satisfied rcf^ditiE- bis wa^s, b pro-
portion to the time he had served ; but, if God should bnug him ofT
safe and sound Srmo the impending danger, he might reckon himself
infallibl/ soGore of the promised island. Sancho wept afresh at bear-
ing aicain the moving eipressioiis of his good master, and resolved not
to leave him to the last moment and termination of this alTuir. The
author of this history concludes, from the tears and this honourable
resolution of Sancho Panza, tbat be mast have been well biira, aud at
least an old Castilian. His master was somewhat moved bf it ; not
that he betrayed any weakness ; on the contrary, dissembling ta well
u he eould, he advanced towards the place whence the noise of the
water and of the strokes seemed to proceed. Sancho followed bim on
foot, leading bii aas— thai constant companion of bis fortunes, good
or bad. And having proceeded some distance among those shady
chestout-treea, they came to a tittle green meadow, bounded by some
steep rooks, down which a mighty torrent precipitated itEelf. At the
foot of these rocks were several wretched huts, that seeuied more like
ruins than habitable dwellings ; and it was from them, they now
discovered, that the fearful din proceeded. Rozinante was startled at
the noise, but Don Quiiole, after quieting him, went slowly on
towards tne buta, recommending himself devoutly to his ladv, aud
beseeching her to favour him in so terrific an enterprise -. and by the
way he also besought God not to fon:et him. Sancho kept dose to
his side, stretching out his neck, and looking between Kounante's
legs, to see if be could discover the cause of bis terrors. In this
manner they advanced about a hundred yards farther, when, on
doubling a point, the true and undoubted cause of that horrible uiose
which lukd held them all ni.ebt in such suspense, appeared pbtn and
expoeed to view. It was ¿kind reader, take it not m dudgeon ! ) sis
fuiline-hammers, whose ^tcmutc strokes produced lliat liidcous
sound! Bon Quixote, on beholding them, was struck dumb, aud was
in the ntmost confusion. Sancho looked at him. and saw be hung
down his head nt>on his breast, with manifest indications of heing
abashed. Don Quixote looked also at Sancho, and seeing his cliecks
swollen, and bis mouth full of lau^cbtcr, betraying evident signs of
being ready to eiplodc, notwithstanding his veiutioD, he could not
forb^r !au!;hiug himself attlie si|;bt of nis squire, who, thusencou-
nged by bis master, broke forih in so violent a manner tliat be was
foreedto apply both hands to bis aides, to secure himself from burst-
ing. Four times he ceased, and four times tlie tit returned, with the
same impetuosity as at first. Upon which, Don Quixote now wi.slied
him at the devil, especially when be heard him say, ironically : " Thou
must know, friend Sancho, tbat .1 was bom, by the will of Heaven, in
this onr age of iron, to revive in it the golden, or that of gold. I am
he for whom are reserved dangers, great exploits, and valorous
■chievements ! " And so he went on, repeating many of t'"' ^"PTP:
aions which Don Quixoli used apon first hearing those dreaflfnl
Bonnds. Don Quixote, perceiving that Sancho madeaiestot him.
via 90 enraged that he lifted up his lance, and disdutrged two suoli
, , . .A.OOgIC

90 BOK vracm.

blows on him that, had he received Ihem od his head, instead of his

shoulders, the knii^ht would have acquitted himself of the pafment of
his wages, unless it were to his heirs. Sancho, finding he paid so
dcarlf for his jokes, and fearing ksl his master should proceed far-
ther, with much humility said : " Prav, sir, be pacified ; as heaven is
my nope. I did hut jest." "ThouKO thou mayest jest. I do not,"
answered Don Quísote. " Come hilher, merry sir, what thinkest
thoa P Suppose tlieso mill-hammers had really been some perilous
adventurajQarelnot given proof of the courage requisite to under-
take and achieve it? Am I obliged, beii^ a koic^bt as Jam, to distin-
guish sounds, and know which are, or are not, those of a fuilins-tnill,
more espeoiaUy if (which isindced the truth), I had never seen any full-
ing-mills in my life, as thou bast— a pitiful rustic as thou art, whoweit
born and bred amongst them ; bat let these six fullins-hammers be
transformed into s'a giants, and let them beard me one by one or
altogether, and if 1 do not set them all on their heads^ then make
what jest thou will of me." "It is enough, good air," replied
Sancho J "I confess I have been a little too jocose: bul pray tell me.
now tliat there is peace between us, as God shall bring you out of all
the adventures tfaat shall happen to ];oa safe and sound, as he baa
brought you out of this, was it not a thing t« be laughed at, and worth
teUing, what a fearful taking we were in last night — I mean, that I
was in— for I know your worship is a stranfrer to fear?" " 1 do not
deny," answered Don Quiiotc, that what has befallen ns may be
risible, bnt it is not proper to be repeated ; for all persons have not
the sense to see things in the right point of view." But," answered
Sancho, " your worship knew how to point your lance aright when

ga pointed it at my bead, and hit me on the shoulders; tliankshe to
:aven and to my own agility in slipping aside. But let that pass :
it will out in the bucking : for I have heard say, ' he loves tliee well
who makes thee weep :' and, be.<údes, your people of condition, when
they have given a servant a hard word, presently give him some old
hose, though what is usually given after a beating I cannot tell, unless
it be that your kDights-errant, after bastinadoes, bestow islands, or
kingdoms on ieffajiraai." "The die may so run," quoth Don Quixote,
" that all thou hast said may come to pass : excuse what is done,
since thou art considerate ; for know that first impulses arc not under
man's control; and, that thou mayest abstain from talking too much
with me henceforth, I apprise thee of one thing, that in ail the books
of chivaby I ever rt-ad, numerous as they are, I recollect no eiample of
a squire who conversed so much with his master as thou dost with thine.
And really, 1 account it a great fault both in tbee and in myaclf : in
thee, because thou payest me so Uttie respect : iu me, that I do not
make myself respected more. TberewasGandiJin.sqtiiretoAmadisde
Gaul, earl of the firm Island; of whom we read that be always spoke
to his master cap in hand, his bead inclined and body bent, in the
Turkish fashion. What shall we say of Gasahel, squire to Dou Galaor,
who was so silent that, to illustrate the excellence of his marvellous
tscitamit^, his name is mentioned but once in all that great and
faithful history P ¥mta what I have said, thou mayest infer, Sancho,
that there ought to be a differenee between master and man, between
lord and lacquey, and between knight and squire ; so tbut, from this
day forward, we must be treated with more respect ; for, howsoever
thou nutyeat excite my anger, 'it «ill go ill with üíe pitcher.' The

MAVBUItiyB BILMBT, 01

ft*oiirs and lieneflls I promised Ihee will come in dne time ; and if
they do not comp, ilm wnpres, »t least, thon wilt not lose." " Your
worship says very well," qiintli Sancho ■ " but I would fain know (if
perchuice the time of the favonn should not come, and it should be
necessary to have recourae to the article of the wajres) how much
might tlie stmjre of a knight-errant cet in tlioec times F and whether
they aftreed Dj the monlh or by the day, like labourers P " "I do not
believe," answered Don Quiiote, "that those squires were retained at
stated wa^^es, but they relied on courtesy ¡ and if I have appointed
tbee any. m the will I left sealed at home, it was incase of accidents;
for I know not vet how chivalry mav succeed in these ealsmilous
times, and I would not have my aonl suffer in the other world for trifles ;
for I would have thee know, Sancho, that there is no Blate more
perilous than that of adventurers. "It is so, in truth," said
Sancho, " since the noise of the hammers of a fullinn-mill were snffi-
cient to disturb and discompose the heart of so valorous a knight as
jour worship. But yon may depend upon it that henceforward I
shall not open my lips to make merry with yonr worship's coneems.
bnt shall honour yoQ as my master and natural lord." "By so doing,
replied Don Quixote, " thy days shall be long in the land ; for next to
our pannU we are bound to respect our masten,"

CHAPTER XXI.

About this time it began to rain a little, and Sancho proposed enter-
ing the fulling-mill ; but Don Quixote bad conceived sacn an abhor<
lence of them for the late jest, that he would by no means go in :
taming, therefore, to the right hand, they struck into another road,
like tl^ Ihey had travelled tnrongh the day before. Soon after, Don
Ooiiolfi discovered a man on horseback, who bad on hia head some-
tiung which glittered as if it had been of gold ; and scarcely had be
seen it when, turning to Sancho, he said, ' I am of opinion, Bancho,
there is no proverb but what is true, because thev arc all sentences
drawn from experience itself, the mother of all the sciences ¡ espe-
cially that which sava, ' Where one door ¡a shnt another is opened.'
I say this becanse, it forttuie last night shut the door against what
we sought, decdviag ns with the mlling-miUs, it now opens wide
another, for a better and more certain adventure ; in which, if 1 am
deceived, the bult will be mine, without imputing it to my ignorance
of fulling-mills, or to the darkness of night. This I say because, if I
mistake not, there comes one towards ns who carries on his head
Mambrino'a helmet, concerning which thou mayst remember I snore
the oath." "Take care, sir, what yon say, and more what yon do,"
(aid Sancho ; " for I would not wish for other fulling-mills, to fimah
the milling and mashing onr senses." "The devil take theef" replied
Don Quixote; "what has a helmet to do with fulling-mills?" I
know not," answered Sancho i " bnt in faith, if 1 might talk m mocb

n, ■X.OOg\C

98 sov qcixoTB.

I used to do, periiaps I could give saoh re490ii3 that your wonhtp
would see vou are mistaken íq what you aa; ." " How can I be mis-
taken in wliat I sar, scnipuloua traitor ? " said Don Quixote. " TeU
toe, seest thou not jod knisht comioj; towards iia on a dapple-gre;
steed, with a helmet of gntd on his headf" "What 1 see and pet-
oeive," answered Sancho, " ia onlj a man on a strey asa hke mine,
with Bomelhinf on his head that ghtten." " \Vhy, that is ^lam-
briuo's heliuet, said Don Quixote ; " retire, and leave me alone to
deal with him, and thoii sliut see how, in order to save time, 1 sliall
conclude this adventure without speaking a word, and the helmet I
have so much desired remain my own." " I shall Ute care lo get
out of the wa;," replied Sancho ; " but Heaven Rrant, I say amu, it
may not prove anotiier fulling-mill adventure." I have already told
tikee, Sancho, not to mention those fulliog-miUs, nor even think of
them," SMd Don Quixote : " if thou dost— I say no mora, but I vow
to mill thy soul for tbec !" Sancbo held his peace, fearmg lest his
master sboold perform his vow, which had struck him all of a

Now the truth of the matter, concerning tiie hebnet, the steed, and
the knight which Don Quiiote saw, was this. There were two
villages m that nei|:;fabonrhood, one of them so small (hat it bad neither
shop nor barber, but the other ailjoining to it had both ; therefore the
barber of the hireer served also the less, wherein one customer now
wanted to be let Mood, and another to be shaved ; to 7>erfonn which,
the barber was now on his way, carrying with lum his brass basin;
aud it so happened that while upon the road it began to rain, and to
save his hat, which was a new one, he chpped the Win on his head,
which being ktcly scoured was seen glittennfir at the distance of half
a league ; and he rode on a grey ass, as Sancho had allirmed. Thus
Dud Quixote took tlie barber for a knight, his ass for a dupple ;n^y
steed, and his basin for a golden helmet ; for whatever he saw was
quickly adapted to his knightly extravagances; and when the pftof
knight drew near, without staying to reason llie case with him. be
advanced at Rodnante's best speed, and couched his lance, intending
lo run him through and thnDugb: but, when close upon him. without
checking the fury of his career, he cried out, " Uefpud IhyBelf, caitiff!
or instantly surrender what is justly my due," The barber, so unex-
peclcdlv seeing this phantom advancing upon him, had no other way
to avoid the thrust of the hmce than to slip down from the ass : and
no sooner had he touched the ground than, leaping up oinibler than a
roebuck, he scampered over the plain witli such speed that the wind
could not overtaKe him. The basin he left on the ground; with
which Don Quixote was satisfied, observing that the pa^an bad acted
discreetl)- and in imitation of the beaver, which, wlicn closely pur-
sued bj the honters, tfars off with bis teeth that which it knows by
instinct to be the object of pursuit. He ordered Sancho lo take up
the helmet ; who. holding it in his hand, said, " itefiire Heaven, the
basin is a special one, and is well worth a piece of ei^ht, if ¡t is
worth a fattuing." He then (wve it to his master, who immediately
placed it upon his head, turning it round in seareh of the vizor ; but
not finding it, he said, " Doubtless the pagan for whom this famous
helmet was originally forged must have had a prodigious head— ihe
worst of it is that oue naif is wanting." When Saucho heard the
basin oüled* hairnet, be could not forbewlwighmg i yhich,boweTCT,
,, .A.OOgIC

KiXBBnio't nxum. 99

ke rnstmitlT cheeckcd on remllectinB hia msater's late aholer. "Wliat
doe* tiou MDffh at, Sancho?" Buid Don Qiiiiote. "I am laugbiwi,"
answered he, to think what a hniie head the pAjnui had who owned
that helmet, which is for ail the world jnat like a barber's basin."
" Knowest than, Sancho, what I omceiTe to be the case ? This
famotis piece, this enchanted helmet, bf some atrasare arcident mnst
have ffdlen into the possession of one who, ignorant of iU true valao
as a helmetj and seeinR it to be of the purest gold, hath inoonsi-
derstely melted down the one-half for lucre's sake, and of the other
hall made this, which, m thoa saycst, doth indeed look Uke a barber's
basin : but to me, who know what it really is, its tninsfoniiation is of
no importance, for I will have it so repaired in the first town where
there a a smith, that it shall not be surpassed nor even equalled bj
that which the god of smiths himself made and for^ for tlie god m
battles. In the mean time I will wear it as I best can, for somethiit;
it better than nolhins ; and it will be sufficient to defend me fi«ni
atones." " It will so, said Sancho. " if they do not throw them with
ahufs, as thcT did in the battle of the two armies, when thcj orossed
jour worship s chaps, and broke the cmse of that most blessed li>|noT
which made me Tomit up my inside." " The loss of that balsam gwra
we no concern," said Don Quixote; " for knoweat thou, Sancho, I
bnve the recipe by heart." "So have I, too," answered Sancho ; " hot
if ever I make or try it wain while I bve, may I he fixed and rooted
to this place. Besides, Ido not intend to nut myself in the way of
lequiring it : for I mean to kecjj myself, with all mi five senses, from
beins wounded, or from woundmg anybody. As to oeinj^ tossed again
in a olanket, 1 say nothing ; for it :s difficult to prevent aueh mishaps j
and if they do come, there is nothing to be done but wink, hold one's
breath, and submit Ui go whither fortune and the blanket shall
please." " Thon art no good Christian, Sancho," eaid Don tjniiote j
iince thou dost not fo^iet an injury once done lliee ; but know it is
iaherent in generous and noble mmua to disregard trifles. 'What lev
of thine is lamed, or «hat rib or heed broken, that thoa canst doc
forget that jest ?— for properly considered, it was a mere ¡eat and
pastime ; otherwise, I should long ago have returned thitner, and
done more mischief in revenging thy quarrel than the Greeks did for
the rape of Ueien, who, bad she lived m theae times, or my Dulcinea
in thn«e, would never have been so famous for beauty as she is ! " and
here he heaved a sigh, and sent it to the clouds. " Let it pass, then,
for A jest," said Sancho, " sbce it is not likely to be revenged in
earnest : but 1 know of what kind the jests and the earnests were;
and I know also they wili no more shp out of my memorv than off mi
ahoulders. But, setting this aside, tdl me. sir, what shall we do witn
this dapple-grey steed which looks so much like a grey ass, and whidk
that caitiff whom your worship overthrew has left "behind here, to
shift for itself ? for, by his scouring off so hastily, he docs not think
of ever returning for him ; and, by my beard, the beast is a special
one." "It is not my custom," said Don QuixoM, "to plunder ihose
whom I overcome, nor is it the usage of chivalry to lake from the
vanqnished their horses, and leave them on foot, unless the victor had
loEt his own ia the conflict ; in such a case it is Iswfiil to take that of
the enemy, as fairly won in battle. Therefwe, Sandio, leave this
horse, or ass, or whatever thon wilt have it to oe ; for when we are
gue, hia owan will retain for him." " God knows whether it were
, , . .A.OOgIC

best f<^ me to take him," replied Sancho, " or at least to eiduoge

hijn for mine, which, methinlta, ¡s not so good. Verily, the laws of
chivalry are very strict if they do even allow the swopping- of one ass
for another ; but 1 would fain know whether 1 might exchange fumi-
ture, if I were so inclined." " I sjn not very clear as to that point."
answered Don Quixote ; " and. being a doubtful esse, nm.il better
information can be had, I think thou mayest make the excliange, if
thou art in extreme want of them." " So eitrenie," replied Saucio,
"that I could not want them mora if they were for my own proper
person." Thus authorized, he prooeeded to an exchange of capaii-
sons, and made bis own beast three parts in four the better for bis
new furniture. This done, they breakfasted on the ramains of the
plunder ham the sumpter-mule, and drank of the water belonging to
the fnllinz-milla, but without turning tlieir faces towards them — such
was the abhorrance in which the; were held, because of the ^eot

Bhad produced. Being thus refreshed úid comforted, both in
and mind, they mounted ; and, without det«nnining upon what
to follow, according to the custom of knigbts-errant, they went
on as Borinante's will directed, which waa a guide to his master and
also to Dapple, who always followed, in love and good-fellowship,
wherever he led Che way. They soon, however, turned iuto too
great road, which they followed at a venture, without forming any

As they «ere titos sauntering on, Sanoho said to his master : " Sir,
will yonr worship bo pleased to indulge me the liberty of a word or
two: for since you imposed on me that harsh command of silence,
sundry things have been rotting in my breast, and I have one just now
■t my tongue's end that I would not for anytiiing should miacury."
" Speak, then," said Don Quixote, " and be brief in thy dlsconnw :
for what is prolix cannot be pleasing." " I say then^ sir," answered
Sancho, " that for some days past I have been consiaerioig how little
is gained by wandering about in quest of those adventures your
worship is seeking through these deserts and crossways, where,
though you should overcome and achieve the most perilous, there is
nobody b) see or know anything of them ; so that they must remain
in ^rpetual oblivion, to the prejudice of your worahip's intention and
their deserts, ¿sd therefore I think it would be more advisable for
nSj.with submission to your better judgoient, to serve some ewpecor

,y your valour, great strength, and superior understanding :
wuicn oemg perceived by the lord we serve, he must of course reward
each of us according to üts merit ; nor can you there foil of mectbg

^ _..,.. „ ._ . . , e tliey must not

exceed the squirely Lriiits ; though, 1 aare say, if it be the custom in
chivalry to pen the deeds of squires, mino will not be foi^ttea,"

"Thou sayest not amiss, Sancho," answered Don Qiu\ol«: "bat,
previous to tl'i^, it is necessary for a knight-crrant to wander about
the world seeking adventures by way of probation; where, by his
achievements, he may acquire such fume and renown that, when he
i.(it..es to the court of some great monarch, he shall be alread.v known
is works ; and scarcely shall the boys see him enter the gates of

BU LBunO DtSODVBSB. VS

indar which be aun have aohiered peKt eipteita. "nüi ü he,' Ütej
wül Mf.' vho OTerthier the hu^ giaut Broctbnmo, of mightv forccL
ÍB súigle oombat; he «ho <lueDctiaiited the Kreat Hameriike of
Penis from the kmg enchantment vhicli held him confined almoit
nine hundred years ;' and thna from mouth to mouth tbej shall go on
bluouitig his deeds, ¿t leneth, aitraoted by the bustle made hj tba
inhabitaotB, youn({ and old, the kin^ of that coontrj shall appear at
the windows of lus royal palace ; and, as eoon as he espies the itni^t,
«bom he vill recognise by bis anooar or by the deriee on his shield,
lie will of oourae say : ' Ho, there ! Go forth, my knij;hts, all that are
■t court, to raceiva the flower of chivalry, who is aiiprouching.' At
which com maud theyoU shall go forth, and the kins lumself, descend-
ing half-way down the great staircase, shall receive him with a dose
eaibrace, salating and kissing bim ; then, taking him by the hand, he

«Tea on the knight, and he his eyes upon hers, each appearing to tl
othet aomethraj: rather divice than human; aod, without knowiag
how, or which way, they remam entangled in the meitricable net M
lore, and are in great perplexity of mind, not knowinx how to oon-
Terse and discover their amorous anguisii to each other. He will
then, no doubt, be conducted to some quarter of the palace richly fur-
nished, where, having taken off his armour, they will clothe bim ia a
ñok ftcarleC mantle ' and if he looked well ia armour he must look still
better in ermine. Night beiM arrived, be shall sap with the kinR
queen, and infanta; when he shall never take his eves off the prinoest
viewing her by stealth, and she will do the same by bim, with emial
caution ; for, as 1 said before, she is a vety discreet damsel. The
tables beioK removed, tbere shall enter unexpectedly at the ball door
a little ilt-favoured dwarf, followed by a beautiful matron between

two giants, with the uroposal of a certain adventure, so contrived by
a most ancient sage Uiai he who shall aooomplish it shall be esteemed
the best knight in the world. The king shall inunediiitely ct

all who are present to prove their skill, and none shall be able to
acotnnplish it but the stranger knig-ht, to the neat advautage of his
fame; at which the infanta will he delighted, and esteem herself
happy in having pUced ber thoughts on so exalted an object. Forto-
nately it happens that this king, or prince, or whatever he be, is car-
rying on a bloodj war with anottier monarch as powerful as himself;
and the etrao^ knight, after having been a few days at court,
requests his nuqesty'a permission to serve him in that war. The king
shall readily grant nis reqnest, and the knight shall most courteousLr
kiss his royal hands for the favour dune bim. On that night he sludL
take leave of his lady the infunta at the iron rails of a garden adjoin-
ing to her apartment, through which be has already conversed with
her several times, by the mediation of a female confidante in whom
the infanta greatly trusted. He sljjha, she swoons ; the danisel runs
for cold water, and is very nneasy at the apuroai;h of the morning
U^t, and would by no means her lady shoula be discovered, for the
sake of her lad/s honour. The infanta at len;ith comes to iierself,
and gives hersnowy hands to the knight througb (heroils, who kisses
theni a thonaaiail and a thousand times over, bowing them with hia
A.OOgIC

Uan. They concert together how to commimieBfe to e»ch other
their good or ill fortune, and the princess entreats him to be sbjent
as short a time as possible; which he promises with mvnj oaths;
again he kisses her hands, and they part with bo much emoIioD that
he is neai'ly deprived of life. Thenee he repairs to his chamber,
throws himself on his bed^ and cannot sleep for grief at the sepfkrs-
tion. Be rises ear!; in the momini', and goes to take leave Ol the
ling, queen, and infanta. Having taken his leave of the two former, he
ii told the princess is indisposed and cannot admit of a visit. The
knight think» it is for grief at his departure ; his heart is pieroed, and
he la verv near giving manifest indications of his passion. The dam-
sel oonfiaante is present and observes nhat iMLises : she informs her
bdy, who receives the sccoont w:tli tears, and tells her that her chief
concern is that she knows not the name nor conntry of her knigbt,
and whether be be of royal descent or aot : the damsel assures her he
is, since so mnch cottrtesy, nohteness, and valour, aa her knight ia
endowed with cannot exist but in a royal and exalted subject. Tie
afEictcd princess is then comforted, anil endeavours to compose her-
self, that she may not give her parents cause of suspicion ; and two
ÍB,y» after she arain appears in public. The knight a now gone to
"■" ; he fights, and vanquishes the king's enemy; tíúces many

^bts, and vanquishes the king^s enemy; tues mai

, reral battles; returns to court; sees his lady at t.._

nsaal }^ace of interview ; and it is agreed that he shall demand her
in marriage of her fathrr, in recompense of his services. The king
does not consent to ^ve her to him, not knowinz who he is ; notwith-
standing which, either by carrying her off, or by some other means,
the infanta becomes his spouse : and her father afterwards finds it to
be a piece of the greatest good fortune, having ascertained that the
knight is son to a valoróos King, of I know not what kingdom, not
is it, perhap^ to be found in the map. The father dies; the infant»
inherits ; and, in two words, the knight becomes a king. Then imme-
diately fiiilows the rewarding oí bis squire, and all those who assisted
in his elevation to so exalted a «tate. He marries his squire to one of
the infanta's maids of honoor, who is doubtless the very confidante ci
his amour, and dau^tcr to one of the chief dukes."

" T!iis IS what I would be at, and a dear stage," quoth Sancho;
" this 1 stick to, for every tittle of this must happen precisely to your
worship, being called ' the knight of the sorrowiiil figure.' " " Doubt
it not, Sancho," replied Don Quixote: "for, by those very means
and those very steps which 1 have recounted, knights-errant do rise,
and have risen, to oe knights and emperors. All that remains to be
done is tu look out and find what king of the Christians or of the
pazana is at war, and has ■ beautiful danghter — but there is time
enoorfi to think of this ; for, aa I told thee, we must procure renown
elBCwhera before we reiiair to court. Besides, there ia yet imotbef
difiicalty ; for, if a king were found who is at war and has a handsome
daughter, and I bad acquired inorediblo fiime throughout the whole
universe, I do not see how it can be made appear that I wn of the
lineiige of kings, or even second cnusin to an emperor : for the king
will ñol give me hi» iiushler lowife until he is first very well assntett
th.it I am Biich, however my renowned actions might deserve it.
Through this defect, therefore, L am afraid 1 shall lose tliat which
my arm has richly deserved. It is true, indeed, I am a gentleman of
an ancient family, posseased of property and a title to the lUvenp

A.OOgIC

Big BKItLUSt FSOSPBCn. 97

of ti>e fire Itondred Boeláos ; * ind periupa the mm who mite* mr
lustoT7 may throiT inch light npon mj kindred ana Kenealogy that 1
ma; be found the fifth or eiith in deaeent hoto a iiof^. tut thoa
miut know, Sancbo, that there are two kinds <rf lineages m tíie world.
Some tbere are who derive theii pediirree &om prinoesindmoiuich^
wbcnn time hu gnutoaU; redaeed iu£l they have ended in a pdnt,
like a p;ramid : olhera hate had a low origin, and have risen hj
dggreea, ontil they have become great lorda. So that the difierenee
is. that some have been what they now are not, and others are now
wW they were not before ; and who knows but I may be one of the
fotmer, and that, upon eiaminatioo, my ori^ may be found to hare
been great and glorious : with which the kiue. my future father-in-
law, ou^t to be satisfied ; and, if he should not be satisfied, the
infanlft ii to be so in lore with me that, is spite of her fatber,
■he is to reoaire me for her lord and hnslwnd, eren thongfa she knew
neto be the son of a water-oacner; and, in case she should not. tbea
is the time to take her away bv force, aadconvmherwhithnIpteBS«¡
there to remain until time or death pnt a perica to the diapleasore of
ker wents."
"Bere," said Sancho, "oomes in ptoperi/ irtiat some nanghty

r>ple say, ' Never stand begging for tnat which yon have the power
take :' thoogh this other u neartr to the poipose: 'A le^i mxa a
hedze ie better than the prayer of a bishoii? I say this, because if
my lord the king, your worship's father-in-law, should not vonohsafe
to yield nnto you mj iady the mfanla, there is no more to bo doo^ «■
^oor worship says, but to steal and carry her off. Bnt the misctdef
IS, th^ whife peáee is making, and before yon cm enjoy the kingdom
quietly, the poor squire may go whistle for his reirora ; mdees the
go-between oamsel, who is to be his wife, goea off with the infant^
and he shares his misfortune with her, until it shall please Heaven to
ordain otherwise ; for 1 believe hia master may immediately give her
to hira for bis lawful spouse." ' " On that thoa mayest rely," said
Don Quixote. " Since it is so," answered Sanoho, " we have only
to commend ourselves to Gbd, and let things take their course.
" Heaven grant it," answered Don Qnixoto, as 1 desire and thou
needest, and let Mm be wretohed who thinks himself so." " Let
hun, in God's name," said Sancho ; "for I am an old Christian, and
that is enough to qualify me to be an earl." "Ay, and more than
enoagfa," said Don Qariote : " and even if tbon wert not so, it woold
be immaterial; for 1, being a king-, can easily bestow nubility on thee,
vitbont either purcliase or service on thy put ; and, in creating thee
an earl thoo ait a gentleman, of oonne. And, say what they w^, in
good faith, they must style thee ' your lordship,' however, onwil.
Engiy." Do you think," quoth Sancho, " I should not know how
to give authority to the indignity?" " Dignity, you should sav, and
not indignity," said hia master. " So let it be, answered ^dio
Fsnza. " I say, I shoold do well enough with it ; for I assure yon
I was onoe beadle erf a company, and the beadle's gown became ma

• "Tho Spaniards of old pojd « tribuía of five hundred «aeltloB, or plooa»
of coin, to tho Moors, nnül tliey were dalivered from thi« imposition by ths
gíÜftntryofUMgentlénien, orpeopleofmnk: from whioh oiploit a CmtilUa
aCtamily used to express Che nobility ojid worth of his axtnatioD bynylug
he was 'otttaawvengeofthera^dtn.'"— ¿MOlMt

98 son pinzón.

so well, that I liad a presmcc fit to be irarden of the same oompany :
irhat then viil it be uhcn 1 i.rn arrayed in s duke's robe, all sriininK
trilh gnid and ¡learb, like a foreign count ? 1 sm of opinion folks will
■ come a hundred lea^iiea to sf* me." " Thnn wilt make a goodly
aiipearanee, indeed," said Don Qnisote ; " but it will be necessary to
trim tüy beard a little oftener: lor it is bo rough and matted that, if
thou shavest not every other day at least, what ihon art will be seen
at the distance of a bow-shot. " Why," said iSancho, " it is but
taking a baAer into the house, and giving him a salary ; and. if tiiere
be occasion, I will make litra follow me like a gentleman of tne hone
to a grandee." " How earnest Ihou to know," demanded Don Qoixote.
" that grandeea ha»e their gentlemen of the horse to follow them f
" I will tell you," said Suicho ; " some years ago I was near the
«mrt for a month, and I often saw a veiy little gentleman riding
about, who, tliey said, was a very great lord; and behind him I
noticed a man on horseoack, tuminf aboat as he turned, so that one
would have thought he had been his tail. I asked whythat man did
Dot ride by the side of the other, bnt kept alwavs behind bim ? fbtj
answered me that it was his gentleman of the horse, and that it was
the custom for noblemen to be followed by them ; and from that day
to this I have never forgotten it," " Thou art in the right," said
Don Quixote, " and in the same manner ihou mayest carry abont thy
barber ; for ul customs do not arise together, nor were they invented
at once; and thou mayest be the first earl who carried about his
barber after him : and indeed it is a higher trust to dress the beard
than to saddle a horse." " Leave the business of the barber to me,"
said Sancho ; " and let it be tout worship's care to become a kioj:,
and to make mc aa earl. " So it shall be," answered Don
Quixote : and raising his eyes, he saw — what will be UiA in (he
following chapter.

CHATTER XXn.

- -- -- chefrtn a_ ,

n this nost grave, lofty, accurate, dcliililful, and ingenious

history, that after the conversation which passed between the famoos
Bon Quixote de la Mancha and Sancho Panisa his squire, given at
the end of the foregoing chapter, Don Quiiote raised hia eyes, and
saw approaching in the same road about a dozen men on foot,
Ctmw like beads, by the necks, in a great iron chun, and all hand-
ooffed. There came also with them two men on horseback, and twoon
foot ; those on horseback were armed with firelocks, and those on foot
with pikes ud swords. As soon aa Sancho Faiiu saw them, he said;
" Thb is a chain of ealley-slaven, persona forced by the king to serve
inthe gallCTs." "How! foroei do you sayP" quoth Don Qnixote:
" is it possible the kinK- should toitx anybody ? " "I said not so,"
•DsweredSanolio; "hot that they «ere jjersona who for their tnimea
A.OOgIC

HIS DISCOURSE wirn tbx oallst-siates. 99

are onderaned by Uv to tlie ^ey^, vhn» tbey are forced to aerre
tlie king." "In truth, til en," replied Don Qiiiiotc, "tbese people
are conieyed by furoe, ana not voluntarily?" "So it is, said
Saiicho. "Then," said his master, "here the executioa of my
office begins, vhicli is to defeat violence, and to buocout and relieve
the vrelched." "Consider, sir," quoth Saacbo, "that justice — which
is the king hiniíielí — does no TÍoleuoe to BUch persons ; he only
punishes tliBoi for their crimes,"

B¡ tbis tine the cliain of galley-slaves bad reached tbem, and Don
Quixote in most courteous tcrnis desired the guard to be pleased to
inform him of the cause or cau^ies for which they conducted those

SrsoDS In that manner. One of the guards on horseback answered
nt they were slaves belonging to his majesty, tmd on tJieir way to the
galleys; which was all he bad to say, nor was there an.ithing more to
loiow. " Nevertbekas," replied Don Quiiote, " 1 should be (rlad to
be informed, by each of tbem individually, of tho cause of his mis-
fortune." To this he added such courteous eijureasions, entreating
the information he desired, that the other horseman said : " Thoogu
«e have here the record and certilicate of each of these worthies, toil
u no time to produce and read them. Draw near, sir, and make your
bquiry of themselves ; they may inform yon, if the; please ; and do
doubt they will, for they are such as take a pleasure in aoting and
lekting rogueries." W ith this leave, which Dun Quiiotewoula have
taken, bad it not been given, he went up to them, and demanded of
the first for what offence ke marched in such evd plight ? He
answered tliat it was for being in lore, "For that alonep " replied
Doa Quixote; "if people ue eeut to the galleys for being in love, I
might Icmg since have been rowing in. them myself," "It was not
nieh love as your worship imagines," said the gallev-slave. " Mine
WMa strong aifection for a basket of One linen, whii^ I embraced so
closely, that, if justice had not taken it from me by force, I should not
have parted with it bv my own goodwill even to this present dsy. I
was taken in the fact, so there was no opportunity lor the torture j
the piooess was ^oii; they accommodated my shoulders with a
hundred lashes, and as a further kindness, have sent me for three
yean to the Gurapas, and there is an end of it." " What are tha
Gorapas ? " quoth Don Quixote. " The Gurapas are galleys,"
answered the convict, who wss a young man about twenty-four years
of age, bom, as he said, at Piedrahita. Don Quixote pat the same
question to the second, who returned no snswer, he was so melancholy
aoddqected; hot the first answered for bkn, and said: "This gentle-
man goes for being a canary-bird — 1 mean, for being a m
ET." "B-ovec?" replied Don Quixote ; "are men
ys for being musicians and singers F" " Yes sir,"
; " for there is nothing wone than to sing in an

«aid Don Quixote, "I have heard sav, ' Who sings — „ ,

rdief.'" This IS the very reverse, said the skve; "for here, he
who sings once, weepsali bis life after," "Ido not understand that,"
said Don Quixote, une of the guards said to him : " Signor cavalier,
to sing in sn agony means, in thecanloftheseroguea, to confess npon
the rack. This offender was put to the torture, and oonfessed his
crime, which was that of being sQuatrero, that is, a stealer of cattle;
and because he confessed, he is sentenced for six years to the galleys,
besides two hundred Ushes he has already received on the ahonUm.

ttptct,
Uked tl

100 SOX QUEXora.

He is ftlTSTB penave and s*d, beoauH all the other lo^es «bnM,
yibif, flont, and despise him for cobfessiiiK, and not haviug- had the
oonrnge to say No; for, saj thej, No doe» not contain more letters
ibtn Ave • and think it tocky, when it so tiappena that a man's life
or death aepeods upon hu own ton^e, and not upon proofs ud
vitneeses ; and, for mTpart, I think thej are in the right." " And
BO I think," Buswered iW Quixote : who, passing on to the thitd,
inteiTogatcd him as he had done the others. He answered vei7
readily, and with mueh indifference, " 1 am also poing to their iadt-
shipa the Gunipas for Ave years, merely for wwit of ten dncats." I
will give twenty, with all my heart," said Don Quiiote, "to redeem
jrou &om this mieeiy." " That." said the connet, " is like baring
money at sea, where, thoarh dyinp with hunger, nothing can be
boagiht with it. I say this, because if I had been possessed in time of
those twenty ducats yon now offer me, I wonid have so Rreased ths
clerk's pen and sharpened my advocate's wit, that I woold haré been
this da; npon the market-plaoe of Zocodorer, in Toledo - and sot
upon ^B road, ooupled and dragged like a honiid : bat Qod is great i
patience and— that is enough."

Don Quiiote passed on to the fonrth, who was a man of venetBble
~ pecrt, with a white beard reaching below bis breast; who, being

.ed the cause of his coming, began to weep, and answered not
_ .cord; but the fifth lent him a toncpie, and said: "This honest
rmtteman goes for four years to the galleys, after having appeared in
Uke usual prooession, pompously apparelled and mouDtcd.''* " That
18, I suppose," said Sancho, 'put to publio shameP" "Bight,"
replied tiiB slave; "and the offence for which he suffered this punisti-
ment was his having been a broker of the ear, yea, and even of the
wtu>le body. In fact^ I mean to s^ that this gentleman goes for
pimping, úid eiercisuig the trade of a conjuror." " Had it been
m^ely ior pimping," said Don Qmiot«, " he had deserved not to row,
but to be eommander of the galleys ; for the office of pimp is no light
oonoem, but an avocation requiring discretion, and very necessary in
k well-regulated con moo wealth. None but sucfa as are nell-bam
ought to exercise it ; in truth, it should have its inspectors and comp-
tiollen, as lliisre are of other offices, limited to a certain appointed
number, like exchange-brokers; by which means many evils would
be prevented, which now happen because this office is performed only
by foolish and ignorant persons ; such as silly waiting-M-omen, page^
and buffoons, without age or experience, who, in the greatest exigency,
and when there is ooosaion for tlie utmost address, suffer tlic morsel
to freeze between the fingers and the mouth, and scarce know which
is their right hand. I could go on, and assign the reasons why it
would be expedient to make a proper choice in ñlling an office of such
importance to the state ; but this is not the place for it. 1 may, ons
day or olber, lay this matter before those who can provide a remedy.
At present I only say that the concern I felt at seeing those prrey
hwrs and that venerable countenance in so much distress for pimping,
a eitíjiely removed by his additional character of a wizard ; though I

lucli nia]o&c(iir« as in England wore fbnnerly set in tbe pillory, in
I were carried about in a particular habit, maunted on an uaa, nnth
f*c« 1« the tail ; the criar going before luid ptvolaimiag tboir

TUB GALUCI-SU'VES. 101

«ell know there are no soroeriea in the worid vfaich oan affect and
force tlie vill, as aome foolish people imagine; for our will is Area.
and 90 herb nor charm ciui compel tt-, thcmgh some siU; women and
entfty knares are wont, bf certain miitorea and poisona, to torn tbo
brain, under tbe jiretenoe that they have power to exdlc love; bii^
M I said before, it ia imposaible to foroe the will." "Very tme,"
said tbe old man ¡ " aod, mdecd, air, as to bcinE a «iaatd I am not
roilty ; as for bemg a pimp. I cannot deny it : tmt I never thonght
tuire was any hann in it, for all my intention was that the vtoid
should divert themaeives, and live in peace and qoiet wíthont quarrels
tt troubles. But, alas I tlieae good motives could not aave me from
going whence I have no hope of returning, burdened as I am with
years, and so troubled with an affliction which leaves me not a
Btoment's repose." Here he began to weep, aa before - and Sanoho
was BO moved with compassion, that he drew bom bin bosom a real,
and gave it to him in ohúity.

Don Quizoto went on, and demanded of anotber what bis offence
was, who answered, not with less, but mnch more, alacritv than the
former: "I am going for making a little too free with two snecoasins-
eennan of mine, and with two other oonsiua.Kerman not mine. In
short, I carried the jrst ao far with them all, that the result of it waa
Ú» increaaiDg of kindred so jntricateiy thst no casniat can make it
out. The whole wm proved upon me, and I had neither friends nor
Money : my windpipe was in the utmost danger ; 1 was sentenced to
the galleys for six years. I aubmit — it is the punishment of my fault.
lasi^ang; life may iaat, and time brings everything about, If your
worAip has anythins about yon to relieve us poor wretches, God will
repay yon in heaven, and we will make it the bnsineas of our prayera
tobeaeech Him that your worsfaip's life andhe^dth maybe as long and
proeperona aa your goodly presence deserves." This convict was in
tlie htüñt of a stndnit ; anil one of the guards said he was a great
weaker and a very pretty sobcdar.

Behind sU these came a man about thirtv years of a«e. of a goodly
aspect, only that his eyes looked at each other. lie was bonnd some-
yrhtíl düfereatly from the rest, for he had a chain to his le;r, so Ion;
that it was fastened round his middle, and two coUars about his neck,
one of which was fastened to the chain, and the other, called a keep-
friend. IT friend'a-foot, had two straight irons which cftme down from
it to his waist, at the ends of whidiwere fixed two manacles, wlieretn
bis hands were secured with a hu^re padlock ; insomuch that he oonld
neithei hft bis hands to bis month, nor bend dovm bis head to hia
hands. Don Quiiote asked why this man was fettered so much more
than the rest. Tbe guM^ answered, because he alone had committtd
more criinea than all the rest tof^ther ; and that he was ao bold and
düperate a viibin thai, althougb shackled in that manner, tbey were
not aepnre of him, but were still afraid be would make lils escape.
"What kind of viilanies has he committed." said Don Quixote, "that
have deserved no greater punishment than being sent to the galleys?"
" He goes for ten years, said the guard, " which is a kind of civil
death. You need only to be told that this honest gentleman is the
famoos Oines de Paasamonte, aiia» GinesQlo de Purapilht," " Fair
and softly, sij^or commissary," interrupted the slave: "let us not
now be spinning out names and surnames. Giues ia my name, and
not Ginesilloi and Pasaamonte ia the name of my family, and not
, , . .A.OOgIC

103 DOS QUIXOTE.

Psnipilla, as jon any. Let every one turn himself mund, ami look at
honip. and he will find enuusii lo do." "Speak with less inaoleiiep.
wr tliicf-above-nicasiire," replied the coramissary, " unless you would
oblige me to silence you to your sorrow." " You may see," Hiiswerad
the slave, " that msn eoeOi as God pleaseth i but aomebody mar
learn one day whctlicr my name is Gmesillo de Parapilla, or no.
"Are jou not so calli~d, lyinft rascal?" said the guard. "Yes,"
answered Ginea; "but I will make them eease calling me so, or I will
flea (hem where I care not at present to say. Siftnor cavalier," con-
tinued he, " if you liave anything to give us, let as haye it now, and
Heaven he with yon. for you tire ns with inquiring so much after
other men's Uves. If you would know mine, I am Gines de Passa-
monte, whose life is written by these veryfinsers." " He says Ime,"
■aid the commissary; "for he him s«lf has written his own history as
well as heart coiita wish, and has left the book in prison pawned (or
two hundred rwib." "At, and I intend to redeem it," said Gines,
"if it lay for two hnndrea ducats." "What! is it so goodF" said
Don Quixote. " So good," answered Gines, " that woe be to Lazarillo
de Tonnes, and to all that have written or shall write in tliat way.
What I can aSrm is that it relates truths, and truths so ingenious and
entertainiiiii that no fictions can eiínú them." " What is the title of
your book?" demanded UonOukote. "The Life of Gines de Passa-
Bonte," replied Gines himself. "And is it finished?" quoth Don
Quixote, " How cnn it be finished P" answered he, " since my life ia
not yet finished? What is written relates everytlii^ from my cradle
to the moment of being sent this last time to the galleys." " Then
you have been there before ?" said Don Quixote. " Fonr years, the
other time," replied Gines, "to serve God and the king; and I know
already Uie relish of the biscuit and lash ; nor does it grieve me mach
to eo to them a^ain, since I shall there have an opportunity, of
flnisliing my book : for I have a great many thin^ to say. and in the
galleys of Spain (liere is leisure enongb ; thoufcb 1 shaU not want
much for what I have to writ<\ because 1 have it by heart." " You
eeem to be an ingenious fellow," said Don Quixote. "And an
nnforlunatc one," answered Gines ; " but misfortunes «Iwa™ per-
secute genius." " Persecute vQlan/," said the commissary. I havo
Jready desired you, Signor Commissary," answered Pasaamonle, "lo
go íiút and softly ; for yoiit superiors aid not give yon that staff to
misuse us poor wretches here, tut to conduct us whither his Majesty

commands. Now by the life of 1 say no more ; but the spots

which were contracted in the inn may perhaps one day come out in
the bucking ; and let every one hold his tongue, live well, and spe«k
heller. Now let us march on, for we have had mnugh of this."

Tlie eominissarv lifted up his staff to strike Pa-'samonte, in return
for his threats; but Don Quixote interposed, and desired that he
would not ill-treat him, since it was but fair that lie who had his
hands so lied up should have his tongue a little at liliortv. Then
turning about to the whole string, he said: "From all you We told
Die, dejkrest brethren ! I clearly gather that, although it be only the
pnnishinent of your Crimea, you do not muen relish what you are to
suffer, and that yon go lo it with ill-will, and mnch against your incli-

HE RESCUES IHE FalSONZBS. 103

canse of jour oot meeting with that justice to which tod have aright.
Now this being the case, as I am stron;;)]; ijersuadcd it is, my mind
promptiiandevencoiiipeuiDe to manifest in vou the purpose for vhich
Heaven cast me into the world, and ordiuned me lo piofrss the order
of ohJTalrj, whicli I do profesa, and ¿be vow I thereby made to succour
the needy, and those oppressed by the powerful. Conscious, however,
that it is ¡he part of pnidcnct! not to do by force that whicn mav be
done by fair means, 1 will eutreat these gentlemen, your guard and the
CDQunissary, that they wili be pleased to luoje and let you go in peace,
since there are people enough to iccve tlie king froui letter motives i
foe it seems to me a hard ease lo make slaves of tliose whom God ana
nature made free. Besides, Kcntlemun suards," added Don Quixote,
" these poor men liavc committed no oSenoo gainst yoa ; let every
one answer for his sins in the other world : there is a God in heaven
who fails not to chastise the wicked, and to reward Ibe good ; neitlier
dotbit become honourable men to be the executJouers of others, wjien
theY have no interest m the matter. I request Ibis of you in a cabu.
and gentle maimer, that I may have cause to thank vou for your com-

C" ince ; hut, if you do it not williogb-, this lance ana this aword, with
vigour of jaj arm, shall compel you to it." " Thia is pleasant
fooling," answered the cOinmissary. An admirable conceit he has
hit upon at last 1 Ue would iiave us let the king's prisoners go— aa
if we had authority to set them free, or he to command ua to do it !
Go on your way, signor, and adjust the basin on your noddle, and do
not go feeling about for three legs to a cat." " You arc a cat, and a
Tot, and a rascal to boot ! " answered Don Quixote : and thereupon,
with a word and a blow, he attacked him so suddenly, that, before be
oodd stand upon hia defence, he threw him to tlie grouniL mnch
wounded with a thrust of the lance; and it happened, luckily for Don
&ii,tote, that this was one of the two who earned iircloeka. The rest
of the guards were astonished and confounded at the unexpected
encounter; but, recovering themselves, he on horseback drew his
sword, and those on foot took Iheir javelins, and advanced upon Don
Quiiotc, who waited for them with much calmnesa ; and doubtless it
&¿ gone ill wilh him if the gidlej .slaves had not seiied tlie oppurtu-
nitj; now offered to them of recovering their liberty, by breakmg the
chain hj which they were linked together. Tlie confusion was such
that the guarda, now endeavouring to prevent the slaves from gettidg
loose, wid now engaging with Don Quisote, did nothingto any pur-
pose, Sancho, for nia part, assisted in releasing GineadePassamonlc,
who waa the first that leaped free and unfetterea upon the plain ; and,
attacking the fallen commissary, he took away bis sword and his gun,
which, by levelling first at one and then at another, witliout disdiarg-
ing it, he cleared the field of all the guard, who fied no less from
Passomonte's gun tlian from the shower of stones which the slaves,
now at liberty, poured upon them.

Sancho was much grieved at what had happened, from an apprehen-
sion that the fugitives would give notice of the fact to the holy bro-
therhood, who, uiion ling of bell, would sallv out in quest of the
delinquents. These fears he communicated to nis master, and begged
of him to be gone immediately, and take slieltec aiiioni the trees and
Tocka of the neiehbonring mountain. " It is well," said Don Quiiote ;
"but I kuow what is the first expedient to be done," Then, having
called all Üie slaves together, who were in disorder, after having

for benefiU received is oataral to persons well bom; and one of tlie

sina which most offendeth God is iiif^titiide. This! say, fentlemen,
because yon already know, bj manifest experience, tbe b(^flt Ton

have receiTed at mi hands ; in return for which, it is m; desire tbal;
bearing with you tbis chtdn, wbioh I have taken from your necks, yon
immeaiately go to the city of Toboso, and there present yoursefves

before the Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, and tell her that Ler knight of
the sorrowful figure seeds yon to present bis service to faer ; and
recount to her every cironmstance of this memorsble adventure, to the
point of reatoriog you lo your visbed-for liberty : this done, yon any
go wherever good fortune may lead you."

Qines de_ Passamonte answered for them all, and said; "What
yonr worship commands ns, noble sir, and onr deliverer, is of all
impossibilities the most impossible to be complied frith : for we dare
not be seen together on the road, hut must go separate, each man by
himself, and endeavour to hide ourselves in tbe verv Dowels of tbo
earth from the holy brotherhood, who will donbtless oe out in quest
of us. What your worship may and ought to do is 1o change (his
service and duty to the Lady Dulcinea del Toboso into a certain
nmnber of Ave Marias and Credos, which we will say for your wor-
ship's success ; and this is what we may do, by day m b^ ni^t, flyii^
or reposing, in peace or in war; but to think tbat we will nowretom
to OUT chains, and pat ourselves on our way to Toboso, is to imagine
it already night, whereas it is not yet ten o'clock in the momin;;: and
to expect this from ns is toeipect pears from an elm-tree." "I vow,
then!" quotbBon Quixote, in a rage, "Don son of astmmpet, Don
Gineaillo de Parapilla, or whatever you call yourself, that you alone
shall go with your tail between your legs, and the whole ebain upon
your back I " Passamonte, who was not over passive, seeing himself
thus treated, and being aware that Bon Quixote, from what he had
just done, was iwt in his right senses, gave a signal to his comrades,
upon which they all retired a few paces, and then began to roin sudi
a shower of stones upon Don Quixote, that he could not contrive to
cover himself with his buckler ; and poor Eozinante cared no more for
the spur than if lie had hcen made of brass. Sancho got behbd hja
ass, and thereby sheltered himself from the hailstorm thtó poured
upon them both. Don Quijote could not screen himself aufficientiv
to avoid I know not how many stones that came against bim with suca
forcethattheybroughthim to the ground; when the student matandy
fell upon him, and, taking the basm from off his head, gave him three
or four blows with it over the shoulders, and then struck it as often
against the ground, «hereby he almost broke it to pieces ' they
stripped bim of a jacket he wore over his armour, and would have
taken his trousers too, if the greaves had not hindered thnn. They
took Sanclio's cloak, leaving nim stripped; and, after dividing the
spoils of the battle, they made the best of their way off, each Inkinga
different course : more solicitous to escape the holy brotherhood, than
to drag their chain to Toboso, and present themselves before the Lady
Dulcinea.

The ass and Bozinante, Sancho and Don Qniiote, remained by
themselves : the ass hanging his head, and pensive, and now and then
shaking lu« ears, thinking tut the atonn M stones was not yet over,
A.OOgIC

106

and still whiuiDft sbnt bis head ; Boiinnit» baring been brought to
the RTonitd. la? sCretehed b; his rauter's side ; Suncho stripped, and
troubled with spprebensiona of the holy brotherliood ; and Don Quixote
much cha^aeo at being so maltreated by those on whom he had oon*
fened so greata ben^t.

CHAPTER XXm.

Don Qdixotb finding himself thns ¡ll-reqnited, said to his aquire : —
" Bancho, I hare always heard it said that to do fcood to the vuliiar is
to throw water into the sea. Had 1 believed what jou said to me, I
might have prevented this trouble; but it is done— I must hsive
patience, and henceforth take warning," " Your worship will as
much take wamii^," answered Sancho, " as I am a Turk : but ilnoe
yon say that, if you had believed me, the mischief would have beea
prevented, believe me now, and you will avoid what is still worse;
fi»', let me tell yon, theit is no putting off the holy brotherhood with
diivalries ' they do not care two farthingB for all the knighta-enant
in the world ; and I fancy already that 1 hear their arrows whiaiing
about my ears," " Thou art naturally a coward, Baocho," said Don

Sniiote : " bnt, that thou mayest not say tbat I am obstinate, and
at 1 never do what thou advisest, 1 will for once take thy counsel,
and retire from that fury of which thou art so much in fear ; but
upon this one condition — that, neither livinir nor dying, thou shalt
ever say tbat I retired and withdrew myseli from this peril ont of
fear, but that I did it out of mere compliance with thy eutreaties.
If thou sayest otherwise, it is a lie ; and, from this time to that, end
from that time to this, 1 te!l thee thou liest, and wilt lie, every time
thou shalt either aay or think it. Eeply nut, for the bare thought of
withdrawing and retreating from any danger, and especially from this,
which seems to carry some appearance of darwer with it, mclines me
to remain here and expect alone not that holy brotherliood only, of
whom thoa speakest, but the brothers of the twelve tribea of Israd,
and the seven Maccabees, and Castor and Pollux, and even all tbs
brothers and brotherhoods in the world." " Sir," answered Sancho,
"retreatiog is not running away, nor is staying wisdom when the
danger over-balances tiie nope; and it is the part of wise men to
tecure themselves to-day for to-morrow, and not to venture iH upon
one throw. And know that, although I am but a clown and a peasant,
I yet have eome smattering of what is called good conduct ; therefore
Kpent not of havii^ taken my advice, but get upon Rozinante if yon
«an, if not I will assist yon, and follow me ; for my noddle telia me
that fdr the present we have more need of heels Ximn hands." Don

auixote moonted without replying a word more ; and, ííancho leading
e way npon his ass, they entered on one side of the Sierra Morena,

* A moimtaiD or rather obain of nunmtaina, divkUag tlie kingdom
Castile from the provisM of AndoJuaia.

A.OOgIC

108 i>0¥ «traoTi.

which was neu ; and it vas Sajicho's intention tapiiutlinnigh it, and
«et out at Viso or Almodoiar del Campo, and there bide themselves
for some days among ihose crag^ rocks m case ttie holy brotherhood
should come in search of them. He was encouraged to this, bf
findin;! that the provisions carried bv his ass bad escaped safe tiom
the sLirmish witli the galley^slares which he looked upon as a miracle,
considering what the slaves took away, and Itow Durowlr the;
searched. _

That night they got into the heart of the Sierra Morena, where
Sancho thought it would be well to pasa the remainder of the night,
if not some days; or at least aa long aa their uroTÍsiona lasted.
Accordiugly there tliey took up their lodging, unoer the shelter of
rocks ovecgrowD with cork-trees. But destinv, which, accordiu^ to
the opinion of those who have not the liiht of the true faith, tuides
and disposes all things its own war, so ordered it that Gines de Pass».
monte, the famous cheat and robber (whom the valour and phrenty
of Don Quietóte had delivered from the chain), being iuatly afraid iX
the holy brotherhood, took it into his head to hide oimself among
those very mountains; and in the very place where, by the same
impulse, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza had taken refuge ; arriving
just in time to distinguish who the; were, although they liad fallea
asleep. Now, as the wicked are always ungrateful, and necessity
urges des|>en(tc measures, and present couvenienoe overbalances ever;
consideration of the future, Gines, who bad neither gratitude nor

Swd-nature, resolved to steal Sancho Panza's ass; not caring for
ozinante. as a thing neither pawnable nor saleable. Sancho Panza
slept ; the varlet stoJe his ass ; and before dawn of da; was too far off
to oe recovered.

Aurora issued forth, giñag joy to the earth, but grief to Sancho
Panza, who, when he missed bis Dapple, he^a to utter the most
doleful lamentations, insomuch that Don Qutxote awakened at his
cries, and heard him say :— " Ü child of mf bowels, bom in my honso^
the jov of my children, the entertainment of mv wife, the envy of my
neighbours, the relief of my hnrdena, lastly, the half of my mainté-
nanoe ! — for with the six and twenty maravedís which I have earned
every day by thy means, have I half supported my family!" Don
(Juiiote, on learnmg the cause of these lamentations, comforted Sancho
in the best maunerlie could, and desired bim to have patience, pro-
misbz to give him a bill of exchange for three asses out of five which
he had left at home, Saijcho, comforted by this promise, wiped away
his tears, moderated hia sighs, and thaukcd nis master for the kiuduesa
he showed him.

Don Quixote's heart gladdened upon entering among tl
tuna, being the kind of situation he thought likely to fúm. _ ...
adventures he was in quest of. The/ recalled to his memorj' the n

Tellous events which had befallen knights-crrant in such sohtudes and
deserts. He went on meditating on these things, and his mind waa
n absorbed in them that he thought of nothmg else. Nor had
Sancho any other concern, now that he thought himself out of dann
than to appease his hunger with w'"** -"...'.-."J ^r 4U« «1...,.....^ ,...-ti.
and thus síttbg sideways, as wot

TEX TBUSDU. 107

■flerliÍB mister, «ppwsü^í bis hnnger while emptyhii? the baiT: and
vliile so employed M nodd Dot bave fñ^en twomaraTodis for the
nrest adventure that could bare bap^neii.

While thus engajied, he raised his eyes, aad observed that his
master, who had stopped, was endeaTOuring with the point of bis
lance to raise something that lay upon the invnnd : upon which he
bastcned to assist him, if neoessary, and came up to biin just as he
bad turned over with ids lance a saddle-cnshion and a portmantean
hstened to it, half, or rather quite, rotten and torn, hut eo hravy
that Sancho was foroed to aliftht in order to take it np. His master
ordered him to eiamineit. Sancho very readily obeyed, and Rlthoagh
the portmanteau was secured with its chain and padlock, he could
■ee throueh the chasms what it contained ; which was, four fine
Holland sliirts. and other linen, no less curious than dean ; and, in
ft handlLercbief, he found a quantity of gold crowns, which he no
woner espied than he exclaimed: Blessed be Heaven, which has
presented us with one profitable adventure!" And, searching fnr-
ther, he found a little pocket-book, richly bound: which Don Quixote
desired to have, biddias him take the money and keep it for himself.
SsAcbo kissed his lianas for the favour; and taking the hnen oat of
the portmanteau, he put it in the provender-baR. All this was per-
ceived by Dan Quixote, wbo said : " I am of opinion, Sancho (nor
can it possibly be otherwiso), tliat some traveller must have lost hi*
way in the»e mountains, and fallen into the bands of robbers, who
have killed him, and hronght him to this remote part to bury aim."
" It eamwt be so," answered Sancho ; " for, had they been robbers,
thev would not have left this money here." " Thon art in the right,"
said Don Quixote, " and I cannot conjecture what it should be : but
stay, let us see whether this pocket-book bas anvthins written in it
that may lead to a discovory. He opened it, and the first thing be
fomid was a loueh copy of verses, and, being legible, he read alond,
thtX Sancho might hear it, the following sonnet : —

Enow'st thotL 0 lore, the pangs that I lust^.
Or, cniel, dost thou view Chose pangs unmoved t
Or tuts soma hidden caoae iui Initu<Dce provad.

By all this sad rarietyofpoinl

Lovo is a god, then sorely he must know.
And bnowinii, pity wretohednass like mino ;

Prom otber hands proceede Cbc fatal blow—.
Is then the deed, unpltying Chloe, tUne t

Ah, no ! a form so eiquisitoly fiúr
A soul so merciless can ne er snolose.
From HeaTeu's high will my fate realstloss ñowi.

And I, Bubraissire, must its renítoance heal.
Nought but a roirsclo my lile can «ave.
And snatch its desüned vietiiD fivm the grave.

«n by aloes de Passomoote. In the first edition of Don QuimU he eon-
Unued, after the roIalioD of tho thoft, to spuok of tho nss as though it had
not oeiaed to iw in Saneho's po»se«ion, anil said ¡u this placo; — "Sancho
followed fala master, mttiag ndawaya on his ass." In Cho seoond edidop,
be corrected this inadverti^ce, but incomplotcly. and allowed ic to remun
in ■ovoral pUcea. The Spooiards have relii^ously ];ans«rved his tait, even
to the «omnuUattooB made by his partial ooireetioii.

A.OOgIC

IDB SDH qmxocB.

" Erom the» venei," quoth Sancho, " nothing can be coQeeteil
unless from the oloe there given you can come at ihe whole bottom.
"What cluB is hereF" said Don Quixote. "I thought," said
Sancho, " yonr worship made a due." " No, I swd Chloe," answered
Son Quixote; "and aoubtless that is the name of the lady of whom
tbe author of this aoonet complains; and, in faith, either he is a
tolerable poet, or I know but little of the art." So then," said
Sancho, your worship understands makinz verses too ! " " YeOi
and better than thou thinkes^," answered Don Quisuie; " and eo
ttian shalt see, when thou bearest a letter to my ladr Uulcinuti del
Toboeo, written in Terses from begianing to end ; for Itnow, Sanchou
Hat all or most of the kniRhts^errant of tiznes past itere greac
poets and great musicians; these two arcomptishments. or nXher
graces, being annexed to loTera^rrant, True it is that the couplets
of former knight» have more of passion than elegance in them."
" ** ~ ~ lir, read on farther/' said Sancho : " perhaps you m^ find
t to satisfy OS." Don Quixote turned over the leaf, and

" FtftT, air, read on fatther/' said Sancho : " perhaps you m^ fii

— letniog to satisfy us." Don Quiiote turned over the leaf, ai

I : " Tills is in pmae, and seems to be a letter." " A letter of

sa, air?" demanded Sancho. " fly the bt^inning, it ai
to be one of bve," ansa-ered Don Quiiote. " Then pray.
read it aloud," snid Sancho; " for I misliiily relish these iove-mat-
ten." " With all my heart," said Don Qiiiiote ; and reading aloud,
■a Sandio desired, he found it to this effect :

" Thy broken faith, and my certain misery, drives me to a plac«
whence tbon wilt sooner bear the news of my death than the cause
of my complaint. Thou hast reoonnoed me, U ungrateful mftid, for
one of larger possessions, but not of more worth than myself. If
virtue were a treasure now in esteem, 1 should have no reason to
envy the good fortune of others, nor to bewail my own wretchedness.
What thy beauty excited, thy conduct has eraaod : by tbe former I
thought thee an angel, by the latter 1 know thon art a woman. Feaoe
be to thee, fair causa rf my disquiet ! and may Heaven grant that
theperfidy of thy consort remainfor ever unknown to Ihec, that thou
ma^est not repeat of what thou bast done, and afford me that revenge
w^ch I do not desire."

He letter being read, Don Quiiote said : " We can gather little
more from this than from the verses. It is evident, hovever, that
the writer of them is some slighted lover." Tlien. turning over other
parts of tbe book, he found other verses and letters, some of whidt
were legible, and some not; but the purportwas the same in all — their
sole conteota being reproaehes, lamentations, suspidon», desires, dis-
'■'* " ■ 1 ■ 1. ■ . .... - irous praises and

.., ^ ._ .....iiiiniiiB the hoA,

Sancho examined the portmanteau, without Icavin.; a corner cither
in that or in the saddle.cushion which he did not examine, scrutinise,
and look into, nor seam which he did not rip, nor lock of wool whK^
he did not carefully pick— tiiat nothing might be lost from want of
diligence, or through carelessness— such was the cujiidity excited in
him by the discovery of this pilden treasure, consisling of more than
a hundred crowns I And. although he could lind no luore, he thought
himself abundantly rewarded bf those already in his possession for the
tossings in the bUnket, tbe vomitings of Ibc balsam, the bcnediotioo8«f

TBI XAeOKD niCHT. 109

tte paek-stATes, the onfls of the carrier, the kes of tiie wallet, and
the theft of bis cloak ; toother with all the bim^, thinl, and
lUieue he had suffered in his good master's serrÍM.

The knight of the sorrowtul figai« was eitremel; desirooa to
know who wsb the owner of liie portoiontewi ; fur he concluded, &oni
tite Bonnet and the letter, br the moaey in gold, and b^ the fineness of
tíie linen, that it must dosotlees tielont; to some lover of condition,
«horn the disdain and illtreatment oi bis mistreai had redaoed to

he ahoold certainiy meet with some stian^ adventure.

As he went onwards impressed with this idea, he espied, on the top
of a rising ground not Sai from him, a man springing from rock to
look with eztraordinarj tt^t];. He seemed to be ahaost naked, his
beard black and bosh;, bis hair lonii and tangled, bis legs and feet
bore ; he bad on breeches of sad-oolonred Telret, bat so ragged aa
Meroelf to cover him ; all whicb particuiars, though he passed awiftlf
by, were observed bj the koigbt. He endeavoured, but in TaÍD,.to
follow him ; for it was not given to Hoziuante's feeoleness to make
way over those cragRy plaoea, eei)ecjft!l]f as be waa naturally slow-
footed and phlegmatic, Una Quixote immediately conceived that
this must be the owner of the saddle-cushion and portmanteau, and
resolved therefore to go in search of bim, even though it should prove
a twelvemonth's labour, in that wild region. Ue immediately com-
manded Sancho to cut snort over one side of the mountain, wnile he
skirted the other ; as they miglit possibly by this expedition £ad the
Kta vrbo had so suddenly vanishál from their sight I cannot do it,"
answered Sancho; " for the moment I offer to stir from vour worship
fear i> upon me, assaulting me with a thousand kind of terrors ana
mipaiitions ; and let this serve to advertise you that henceforward I
depart not a finger's breath from your presence," " Be it so," said
he of the sorrowful figure ; " and I am well pleased that thou
riioaldat relv upon my courage, which shall never fail tbe^ though
the very soul in thy body should desert thee. Follow me, therefoifi,
aten by step, or as thou canst, and make lanterns of thine eyes ; we
will go round this cragi^y bill, and perhaps we may encounter the nan
we Ba«v who, doubtless, is the owner of what we have found." To
which Sancho replied : " It would be mucli more prudent not to look
liter him : for if we should Snd him, and be, perchance, proves to be
the owner of the money, it is plain I must restore it : and, therefore,
it would be better, without this unnecessary diligcnoe, to preserve it
fiáthfulll^ until, by some way less curious and officious, its true owner
sbail be foand ; by which time, perh^w, 1 mav have spent it, and then
I am free by taw." "Therein tbou art mistaken, Sancho," answered
Don Quixote -, " for, since we have a vehement suspicion of who is the
right owner, it is our duty to seek him, and to return it ; otherwise
that suspicion makes us no leas guilt/ than if he really vere so. Do
not then repine, friend Sancho, at this search, considering bow mucli
I shall be relieved by finding bim." Then be pricked Koziuante on,
and Sant^ followed ; when, hiring gone ronnd part of the mountain.
Ihev found a dead mule lying in a brook, saddled and bridled, and
halt-^levoured by dogs and onrm; vbioh confirmed them in the
A.OOgIC

t

DOIT qinxoTE.

nioatfaat he who fled item them wu owner both of the mule and

. bundle.

Wbilc they stood looking at ibe mule, they beard a vhistle like
that of a sliepherd tendins his flock ¡ and preseutly. on their left
appeared a number of croats, and behind them, higher up oa the
mountain, an old man, being the soatherd tliat kept them. Don
Quixote called to him aloud, and beckoned him 1o come down to
them, lie as loudly answered, inquiring what had brT)u<.'bt them to
that desolate place, seldom or never trodden nnless by the feet of

Cls, wolves, or other beasts that freqnentcd those mountains P
L'lio promised, in reply, that if he would come down, they would
satisfy him in eTcrything, The goatherd descended, and coming to
the place where Don Quixote stood, he said : " I suppose, gentlemen,
you are looking at the dead mnle ? In truth, it has now lain there
tlieae six months. Pray tell me, have yon met with his master here-
abouts?" "We have met with nothing," answered DonQuisot^
" hut B saddle-cushion and a small porfmantean, which we found not
far hence." " I found it, too," answered the goatheid, " but would
by DO meana take it up, nor come near it, for fear of some mischief,
and of being charged with theft : for the devil is subtle, and lays
stumbling-blocka m our way, over which we fall without knowing
bow." " So say I," answered Sancho ; " for ] also found it, and
would not go within a stone's throw o( it ; there I left it, and there it
may lie for me : for 1 will not have a dog with a bell. " Tell me,
honest man," said Don Quixote, " do you «now who is the owner of
these goods?" "What i know," said the goatherd, " is that six
months ago, more or less, there came to a shepherd's hut, about three
leagues from this place, a genteel and comely voutb, mounted on the
Terr mule which lies dead there, and with the same saddle-ouabiou
ana portmanteau that yon say you found and tonehed not. He
inquued of us which part of these mountains was the most rude and
uuvequeuted. We told him it was here where we now are i aud so
it is tidy, for if you were to go on about half a league farther, per-
Lapa you would uever find the way out : and I wonder bow you coidd
¥3t even hither, since (here is no road nor peth to lead yon to it.
he youth then, I say, hearing our answer, turned about his mule and
made towards the part we pomted out, leaviug us all pleased with hi>
goodly ^pcarance, and wondering at bis question and the haste he
made lo reach the mountain, Vrota that Que we saw him not again
until some days after, when he issued out upon one of onr shepherds,
and, without saying a word, struck him and immediately fell upon our
snmpter-ass, vliicb he plundered of onr bread and cheese, and then
fled again to the rocks with wonderful awiftnesa. Some (d ns goat-
herds after this sought for him nearly two days through the most
intricate part of these mountains, and at last fonnd him lying in the
hollow of a large cork-tree. He came out to us with much gentleness,
his garments turn, and his face so disfigured and scorched by the sun,
that we should scarcely have known him, but that his olotbes, ragged
as tbev were, couvinoed us he was the person we were in search after.
He saluted us courteouslv, and in few nut dvil words bade us not be
surprised to see him in that condition, which wis necessary in order
to perform a certain penance eqfoined him for his manifold fita. We
entreated him to tell us who he ww, but could get no more from him.
We also desired him to inform us wheiv he mi^ be fomid -, because
,, .A.OOgIC

BIOBT OF THE SUTBUnD LOVEB. Ill

«hen he stood in need o( food, without which he conid ttot snbsut,
we would willinglr bring aome to him ; and. if this did not please bim,
we befr^ed tliat at least Qe would come and ask for it, and not take it
nvft}' from the shepherds b^ force. He tbtmkcd us fur our offers,
beeged pardon for his past tioIgdcc, and promised thonceforth to ask
it for God's sake, without molesting anybody. As to the place of bis
abode, he said he had no other than that ubich chance presented him
wherever the night overtook bim; aod he ended bis discourse with bo
man; tears, that we who beard taim most bare been Tery stones not to
have wept with bim, cousiderinR what he was when we first saw him,
and what be now ^peered : tor, as 1 before said, he was a tery
comely and graceful youth, and by his courteous behaviour showed
himaelf to be well-bmn ; which was evident even to country-people
like us. Suddenly be was silent, and, fixing his eyes on the ground,
he remained in that posture for a long time, whilst we stood still in
Ruspense, waiting to see what would be the end of his trance : for br
his motionless position, and the furious look of his eyes, frowninj; and
biting bis lips, we jud^ that his mad fit was coming on ; and indeed
oar suspiotoas were quick!/ confirmed, for be suddenly darted fbr-
waid, aiid fell with ^teat turj upon one that stood ceit him, whom
he bit and struck with so mach violence that, if we bad not released
him, he would have taken away his life. In the midst of his rage he
ftejjuentlr called out, 'Ah, traitor Fernando ! now shaJt thou pay for
the wrong thou hast done me; these bands shall tear out tliat heart,
the dark dwelling of deceit imd villanyl'and to these added other
eipressbus, all pointed at the same femando, and charging him with
ikjaehood and treacbeiy. We disengaged our companions from him
»t last, with DO small difficnlty ; upon which he suddenly left us, and
plnnged into a thicket so entangled with bushes and briars that it was
unpoaeible to follow bim. By this we guessed that his madness
nnmed br fits, and that some person whose name is Fernando must
have dnie him some iiLJnr? of so rricTons a nature as to reduce him
to the wretched condition io whick he appeared. And in that we
have since be«a oonfingwd, as he has bequently oome out into the
road, B(Hnetiniee begging food of the shepherds, and at other timea
tekisg it from them i^ force: for when the mad fit is upon him,
tiioagn the shepherds ofier it freelr, he will not take it witbont
eoming to blows ; but, when he is in nia senses, he asks it with cour-
tesj and receives it with thanks, and even with tears. In truth, gen-
tlemen, I mast teU joa," eontinned the goatherd, "that ycsterda; I
nd four joDQf men, two of them my servants and two mj friends,
tceolved to go in search of him, and, liaving found him, either by per-
Boasiom w fotce cwry him to the town of Almodovar, which is eight
kigñea off, there to get him cured, if his distemper be curable ; or at
kast to learn who he is. and whether he has any relations to whom
we may {[ive notice of his misfortune. This, gentlemen, is all 1 can
tell you, in answer to yonr inquiry; hy_ which you may underaland
that the owner of the goods you fonnd is the same wretched person
who passed you so qnickly ;" — for Don Quixote had told bim that he
had seen a man leaping about the rocks.

Don Quixote was surprised at what he beard from the goatherd;

■nd. beinic now still more desirous of_ knowing who the unfortunate

ntadmaii was, be renewed his determination to search every part of

the inonnbun> letvins neither comer nor oave unexplored ontd he

A.OOgIC

118 Dov qmxon.

^oold find him. But fortune matured better for him than be
eipeoCed ; for at that laj iostuit the same jooth appeared descend-
ing towarda then, má muttering to himself somethinx which was not
intelligible. The tags be vorc were luch as bave been described :
but, as he drew near, Don Quixote perceived that bis buff lioublet,
though torn to pieces, still retained the perfume of ».niber, whence he
concluded tbat be could not possibly be of low condition. Mr'heo tbe
Toong man came op to them, he saluted them in a hu^h and nntiined
Toice, but with a civil air. Bod Quixote poUtelj returned the salute,
and alighting from KoEinanle, with nuoeiul demeanour and address,
advanced to embrace him, and held him a considerable time daspea
within hia arms, as if they had been long acquainted. Tbe other,
wham we ma; tnijj coll the tattered knight oi the woeful, as Don
Quixote was of tlie eorrowful, figure, having suffered himself to be
embraced, drew back a little, and, lajiiu: his nands on Don Quixote's
shoulders, stoodcontemplating him, as ilto ascertain whether ne knew
him: and perhaps no less surprised at th» aspect, demeanonr, and
habiliments of the knight than was Don Quixote at tbe sight of him.
In short, the first who broke mleni» after thia preliiiie wm the
"ragged knight;" and what he said shall be told in the next

CHAPTER XXIV.

A eetiimatiex if Vti advnttm ú At Siirra iiorma.

The histor7 informs US that greatwas the attention wherewith Don
Quixote bstened to the " tattered knight " of the mountain, who thus
addressed himself to the knight: "Asinredlr, signor, whoever 7011
are, for I do not know you, I am oblwed to jou for the courtesy yon
bave manifested towards me ; and 1 wish it were in my power to
serve yon with more than my goodwill, which is all that my fate
allows me to offer in return for your civility." " 80 great is my desire
to do you service," answered Don Quixote, " that I had determined
not to qnit these mountains until I loond you and learned from yonr-
Bclt wbetber your affliction, which is evident by the atrauRe life you
lead, may admit of any remedy, and, if so, make every possible exer-
tion to procure it ; and. should your misfortune be of sucb a kind that
everv avenue to contoktion is cloeed, I intended to join in yonrmoans
end lamentations—for sympathy is ever an alleviation to misery ; and
if you should think my mtention merits any acknowledzment, I
beseech you, sir, hy the infinite courtesy I see jou possess ; I conjure
youalao by whatever in this life yon have loved, ordo love moat, to
tell me who vou are, and what has brought you hither, to live and die
like ft brute Mast, amidst these solitudes : an abode, if I may jndgn
from your person and attire, so nnsoitable to you. And 1 swear,"
added Don Quixote, " by the order of knighthood I have received,
though unworthy and a sinner, and by tbe profession of a knight-
errant, if yon gratify me in this, to serve yan with all the cuem
which it ia n; duty to eiert, either in remedying your míafortuue if it

A.OOgIC

ClXDUnO S WKST. 113

ailrnit cf nvKdj, of m Msuting yon to hernial il, aa I htxt already
promised." The " knight of tbe mountain," heating him of "tbesor-
lovrul figure " talk thiu, oould odI? sbzb upoo him, viewing him from
head to Toot ; and, aft^r surreyiug him attain ana again, be said to
him: "If you have anithing to gire me to eat, for ileafen's sake Let
me have it ; and when I have eaten I will do lul fos desire, in ntuni
for the good wiahee yuu have exprcised towards me."

Sancho iuuuediateiy took froiD his nallet, and the goatJieTd from
hia scrip, some provisions, wherewilh the wrotcbed wauderer satisfied
bis hunger : eabnx what they gave him like a distracted person, so
lavenouslj that He made no interv^ betweeu oue muathfnl and
another, for he rather devoured than ate: and during his repast
neither tie nor tlie bf-standcra apoke a word. When he had flniaked,

„___nplot,

himself down, and the rest did the same. When the tattered kiiight"
hadconiposea bimBelf, he said: "If you desire, gestlemm, that I
aliould teli^ou, in few words, the immensity of my misfortune«, jim
must promise not to intermpt, by quustions or otherwise, the thnaa
of mv doleful history ; for in liie instant you do no. my nairalive will
break o£" These words brought to Doo Quixote s memory the tale
related by his squire, which, because he had not reckoned the number
of goats that had passed the river, remained unfinished. " 1 give this
caution," said the ragged moutaiueer, " because 1 wouJd pass Imefly
over the account of uiy misfortunes ; for recalling them to mv remem-
bnmoe only adds to my woe ; and the less I am questioned the sooner
shall I have finished my story i yet will I not omit any material
circumstance, as it is my wish entirely to satisfy you." Don Quixote,
in the Dune of all Üie rest, promised not to interrupt Mm, and apon

""" ; he began in the following manner; —

isCardeiÚD; the pUoeof mybiiÜi, cneof thebest ctties

_ ._ i my family noble : my parents wealthy ; my wreldhed-

iie68 so great, that it must have been aei^ored by my wents, and felt
by my relations, although nut to be alleviated by all their wealth: kt
nclies are of little avail in uiauy of tlie ealamiliee to whic^ numkiiMl
are liable. In that citv there existed a heaven, wherein love had
placed all the joy I could desire ; suoh is the beiiuty of Lucinda, a
damsel as well^m and as rich as myself, tliough more fortunate, and
bss constant than my houourable in1«utiona deaerved. This Lucbda
1 loved and adored from my diildhood ; and she on hei part loved me
with that innooeut affection propw to her age. Our parents were
not unacquainted with our attactuneat, nor was ¡t displeasing to them
—foreseeing that it oould only end in a union sauotioned, as it were,
by the equality of our birth and oircumstanoes. Our love iocreaaea
with our years, insomuch tliat Luciuda's father thoaght it prudent to
testraiu my wonted freedom of acoess l4i his house : thus iniitatinc
the pwests of the unfortJiiiate Thisbe, ao oolebrat^d ta' the poets.
This restraint served only to ioorease the ardour of our aScetion ; for,
Uiough it was in their power to impose úLence on onr tonguM, thef
ooDuI not do the same on our pens, which reveal the aeorets of the
soul more effectually than even the speech, for the presence of a
beloved object o^en so bewilden and confounds its faoultiea that the
toonie cannot perform its office. 0 heaveni, bow many biUet-doux
did! writ« to W 1 What charming^ what modest; answecs did I
' '' A.OOgIC

"ilj nan

f Andalua

leoeive! How manr naiiets did I pen! How mtuf hn-vtnea
mdite, ID which m; ionl unfoUed all its pasaitnL deecribed its ardoor,
diensbed its ramerahnuoes, uid indulged its imej ! At lengtii mj
patience being exluiuM«d, and uj; sool languishing to see her, I
resolved at once to put into «nectitioD what seemed to me the moet
likeljr meaos to obtain m; desiied and deserred reward : that whs, to
demand her of bei father for mv lawM wife ; which I immediatelr
did. In reply, he tWiked me lor the desire I expressed to honour
him hj an aUianoe with his fuDÜj'; bntthat, as m; father was liring,
it belonged more properly to him to moke this demand; for withont
hi* entire concurrence the aot would appear secret, and unworthy of
his Lnoinda. I returned bim thanks tor the kindoeas of hia recep-
tion ; bis sorupleB I thou^t were reaaonable, and I made snre of mv
other's ready aoqoiesoenoe. 1 went therefore directly to fann, and
«on entering hu apartment fonnd him with a letter open in his band,
which hemre me ttSon 1 spoke » word, saying, ' By this letter, 70U
will see, uírdenio, the inoUnation Duke Bicardo has to do yon tervioe.'
Dake Ricardo, Kentlemen, as yon cannot but know, is a mndee of
^ain, wboee etbte lies in the best part of Andalusia, I read the
iMter, whidi was to extremely kind, that I thought, eren myself, it
woula be wrong m my father not to comply with its request, which
was that I shouid be sent iannediatelT to the duke, who was desinnis
of placing me, not aa a man servant, but as a companion to his eldest
boo; which honour should be accompanied br such preferment as
aboold correspond with the estimation in whioh he held me. 1 was
nevertheless much perpleied by the letter, and qnite cooiounded when
I beard m; father say : ' Two oays hence, Cordenio, yon shall depart,
ji oompliaoce with the duke's desire : and give thanks t " '
. -_ ..^jj ^ ^^j jQ (jjiij fortune 1 ' ■^ ' ^

>T petenia] admonitions.

ime fixed for my departí

...A Lucinda, and told hei , , .

entreated her fother to wait a few dajs, and not to dispose of her
nntUIknewwhat SukeKicardo'spleasurewaswilhme. He promised
me all I desired, and she confirmed it with a thoosand tows and a
thousand funtings. I arrived, in short, at the residence of Duke
Bicardo, who received and treated me with so much kindness that
envy soon became active, by posseaiing hia old servants with an.
opinion that every favour the duke conferred upon me was prejudicial
to their interest. But the person most pleased at my arrival was a
seoood son tí the duke, called Femando, s sprightly yonng ^ntleman,
of- a gallant, liberal, and amorous dbpositioo ; who in a short time
contracted so intimate a friendship with me, that it became the
Bubject of geon-al conversation ; and though t was treated with much
favour by nis elder brother, it vas not equal to the kindness and
affeddon of Bod Fernando.

" Now, as unbounded confldenoe is always tie effect of suth inti-
macy, and my friendship for Don Fernando being most sincere, he
revráled to me ali his thoughts, and particulariy an amonr which gave
him some disquiet. He luved a country giri, the daughter of one erf
bJA father's vassals. Her parents were ndi, and she hemelf was so
neuutiful, discreet, and modest, that no one coold determine in which
of these qualities she nuMt eicclled. Don Femando's pasaion for this
lovely maukn wea id eiceasiv^ tha^ ia order to orerooine the difBcul

ClXSino'S ROKT. IIS

ti» oppooed t^ W TÍrtoe, he rMoWed to promise her nium^:
kDcraiiig that ane was to be oonquered bj no other iae«ns. Fromptei]
hj ñieiulahip, I emplOTed the best «nraments I could sapgeat, to
divert bim tirom Buoh a purpose ; but, findiiig it was all in rain, t
ntolved to acqDaint hia nther the dute vith the tk^ir. Don Ter-
sando, htiag artfnl and ihrewd, suspected aoá fetved no lesa ;' kncrr-
ing tíútt I €0uld Dot^ as a hithiul serrant, oonceal from in; lord and
master a ocwxm so prejndicis] to his hononr: and therefore, to
amase and deoóre me, he said, that he knew no better remedy for
Adngthe ramembrtúioe of the be«itythiit had so oaptiTat«dhiin
HtUL to abaent hims^ for some monihe: this, he said, m¡K;bt be
effected br our gohiK together to my father's house, under pretence,
as he wadd t«B the Qnk^ of parehaainff horees in onr town, which ia

1..1.1. r J — : — 4.i._ i.__j in tdo world. No sooner had he

'. by mj own lore, I expressed mj
i possiblr oonid M devised ; and
_ . «n leas plansible, sinoe it afforded

ipportonibr of retninisg to see my dear Lucinda.
Thna influenced, iBeoonded his design, and desired him to put it in
exeou&m without delay ; since abeenoe, I assored him, would oer-
ttúüj baT« its effect in spite of the stronseet inobnation. At the
my üme he made this proposal to me he liad already, «a appeared
■ftówarda, possessed the maiden nnder the title of a hosband, and
onlvwaitedMr aoonTcnient season to dirulge it with safety to him-
>eu, being a&aid of what tiie duke his father mig^it do, when be
■honld hela of hit folly. Now, aa hne in yonng men is, for the mmrt
pact, nothing but appetito, and i^easure its ultimate end, it espirea
with the attunmoit of its <d)ieot; and what seems to be lore vanishes,
because it has nothiw of the durable nature of tme aSeoticn). In
short, Don Fernando naving obtained his desire, his fondness abated ;
sod that abseauN which he propoaed as a remedy for his passion, he
mHj chose to avwd what was now no longer agreeable toliim. The
dnite consented to his proposal, and ordered ne to bear him com-
pany. We reached our city, and dit father reoai»ed him aooordin"
*~ ■■- Twdity. I inunediatoQf visited Lucinda ; mj passion revivea
a, in hmth, it liad been neither dead nor asleep), and, nnfor-
la for me, I revealed it to Don Fernando ; thinkin;^ that, by the
)f fnendshii^ ootíüng sboold be conceided from him. I etpa-
ao much cm the beauty, grace, and dfaoretion of Lueind^ that
-^-TS exdted in him a ¿leeire of seeinR a damsel endowed with

¿owed her tc , „_. ._,, _ ,

when we wen aocnatomed to oonvecse together. He bebeM her,'
asd erenr bemtjr he had hitherto seen was oist in oblivion, lie was
atrock diunb; ne hnt all sense: he was entranced — in short, he
beciune deeply enamoured, as will appear bf the sequel of my unfor-
tunate story. And, the more to iimsme his passion, which he con-
oealñi from me, he saw by (Glance a letter which she had written to
me, eipreasin|[ a wish that I would attain urge her father's consent to
our marriage m terms so sensible, so modest, and so full of teoder-
iKss, that when he had read it he declared to nie that he thonght in
Lncuida alone were united all the beaaty, good sense, and excellent
quahties wliioh were dispersed ana divided among the rest of her
aex. Trm Aia,l ooofess, tlut althongh I knew what just cause Don
i2 I A.oo^^k'

and fideÜty of Lucinda, Tet I could not hut drejid the ver; thing
against vhich thej' se«mea to secure me. He also constantlj impor-
toned me to show him the letter? I «rote to Lucinda, as well aa her
answers, pretending to be extremely delighted with both.

" Now it hatipeued that Lucinda, having desired me to lend her s
book of chivalr)', of whioh she was very fond, entitled Amadia dc

Glanl " Scarcely had Don Quixote heard him mention a book (rf

ohival/y, than he said : "Had you told me, sir. at the beginning' of
yoni hishny, that the Lady Locinda was fond of reading books of
chiTahj, no more would have been necessary to convince me of the
sublimity of her nnderstanding ; for it could never have been so
excellent as you have deacriltcd it bad she wanted a relish for sneh
savoury Teading; so that, with resi>ect to me, it is needless to waste
more words in displayiiw her beauty, worth, and understanding,
ainee, from onlv knowing her taste, I pronounce her to be the mi»i
beautiful and the most mgenious vmman in the world. And I wisb,
sir, that, together with Amadis de Gaul, you had sent her the good
DonKujrei of Greece: for I know that the Lady Lucinda will bo
highly delighted with Daraida and Garaya, and tlie wit of the shep-
herd Uarinel ; also with ihose admirable verses of his Bucólica whiefa
he snng and repeated with so much grace, nit, and freedom. But
this fault may be amended, and reparation made, as soon as ever jwi
will be pleased, sir, to come with me to our town, where I can furnish
jaa with more than three hundred books that are the delight of mv
«oul, and the entertainment of my hfe. Yet it now occurs to me I
have not one of them left— thanks to the malice of wicked and
envious enchanters! Pardon me, air, for having broken my promise
by this interruption ; but when I hear of matters eppcrtaioing to
knights-errant and cmval]7, I can as well forbear talking of them aa
the Mams irf the sun can cease to give heat, or those of the moon to
moisten. Pray, therefore, excuse me, and proceed ; for that is of
most importance to us at present."

"While Don Quixote «as su.ving all this, Cudenio hung down his
head npon his brcust. appari'ntly in profound thought ; and although
Don Quixote twice desired liim to eontinue his story, he neither lifted
up his head nor answered a word. Kut after some time he raised it,
and said : " I cannot get it out of my mind, nor can any one persuade
Die — indeed he must be a blockhead who understands or believes other-
wise—but that Master Elisnbat, tliat wicked rogue, lay with Queen
Modasima." "It is false, 1 swear," answered Don Quixote, in great
wrath ^ "it is extreme malice, or rather villany, to say so. Queen
Uadasima was a very noble lady, and it is not to be presumed that so
high a princess shomd associate wiih a quack ; and whoever asserts
that she did, lies like a very rascal : and I will make him know it, on
foot or on horseback, anned or unarnied, by night or by day, or how
be pleases." Cardtnio sat looking at bim very attentively, and, the
mad fit being now upon liim, he was in no condition to proaeeute his
story, neither would Don Quixote have heard him, M much was ho
iiritated by what be bad hoard of Madaaimtj and itranKs it waa to

A.OOgIC

cabsbhio hshts mra uncko. 117

m him take tin part vith u moch eameibieM u if she had been
bis Iroe tutd uatonl mistress— such vas the effect of tliaae cursed

books!

Cardemo. being now mod, said hearing himself called liar and
tilkin, witti other opprobrious oamea, did not like the jest; and,
catching at a stone that lay dose hj bin), be threw it with such
violence at Don Quixote's breast tbot it threw him on bis back.
Sancho Panza, seeing his master treated io ttib maoiu r, aitockod the
madman with his clenched fist -. aitd the ra^d knight received him
in sncb sort, that with one blow he laid him at his feet, and then
trampled him to his heart's content. The ffoatberd, who eiideavoDred
to defend him, fared little better ; and when the madman had suffi-
ciently vented his fui7 upon thcoi all, bo left them, and quietlf
retired to his rocky haunts amoiu; the moontains. iJencbo got up in
Borage to find himself eo rouRlil; bandied, and so underservedlf
nitlial, and was proceeding to take revrnge on the goather^ toUin¿
'"'■'''' ' ' . ' • .1 ling tbat this

man was subject to these mad fits ; for had they known it tlicy might
bftTC been upon their ^uard. Tlie goatherd answered tiiat ho had

g'ven them notice of it, and that, if they had not attended to it, the
ult vos not his. Sancho Pau7.a replied, the goatherd rejoined ; and
the replies and rejoinders tndcd in taking each other by the beard,
and cominf to such blows, that, if Don Quixote had not interposed,
fhej would have demohsbed each other. Uut Sancho still kept fast
hold of the goatherd, and said, " Let me alone, sir knight of the
sorrowful figure, fur this fellow being a bumpkin like miaelf, and not
a knight, I may verf safely revenge myself by fighting h ith him hand
to hand, like a man of honour." " True," said Ito^Quiiote, " hut I
knov tout he is not to hhime for wliat has bap^iened." Hereupon
they were pacified ; and Duu Quiiute wain inquired of tíie goatherd
whether it were possilile to find out Cardenio : lor he bad a vehement
deaite to learn the eml of liis store. The goatherd told him, as before,
that he did not exacllf know liis haunU, but tliaC, if he waited some
time about that part, he would not M to meet him, either in or out

CHAPTER XXV.

WiicA treatt ¡¡f tit itrangi lAingi thai b^d tht tuiiaiU hiigkt qf La
JTomUa tn lAt Sicmt Moriaa; awl iov He imilattd thd p*Hayut qf
Eiiie*ebroM.

Don Quixote took his leave of the goatherd, and, mounting
B(KÍnante, commanded Sancho to follow aim; which he did very
nnwillinaly. They proceeded slowly on, making their way in the
most diincult recesses of the mountain ; in the mean time Sancho nos
dving to oonverse with his master bnt woijd fain have had liim bejim
thediscourse, that he might not disobey his orders. Being, however,
unable to hold out any longer, be swd tohim ; " Signor Don Quiiote,
be pleated to give me 7our worship's bleaaiog, and my dismission ; for
A.OOgIC

118 DON QÜIXOTI.

1 Till eet home to mj wife and ehildm), with vbom 1 shall at least
hare the prívile;^ of talking and speakins mj' mind : for, to desire me
to bear your worship comimnythroug-h these solitudes nieht and day,
withoot snfferinir me to talk when I list, is to bury me alive. If fate
had ordered it that beasts should talk now, as tbey did in the days of
Gaisopete, it would not have been qnite eo bad, since L might then
have communed with my ass as 1 pleased, and so hare foncottea mj
ill fortune : for it is very hard, ana not to be borne with patience, for
a man to ramble about all his life in quest of adventures, and to meet
with nothing bnt kicks and cuffs, tossings in a blanket, and bangs with
stones, and, with all this, to have his mouth sewed up, not daring to
utter what he has in his heart, as if he were diunb," I understand
thee, Sancho," ansrfered Don Quixote ; " thou art impatient until I
take off the emhargo I have iud on toy tongue. Snppose it, then,
rwnoved, and thou art permitted to say what thou wilt, upon condi-
tion that this lerocation is to'last no longer than whilst we are wan-
dering amongst these rocks." " Be it so," said Sancho ; " let me
talk now, for Glod knowa what will be hereafter. And now, taking
the benefit of this licence, I ask, what had your worship to do with
standing np so warmly for that same Queen Magimasa, or what's her
nameF or what was it to thepunxise whether that abbot* was her
gallant or not ? for, had j'ou let tliat pass, as you were not his judge.
I verily beLeve the madman would have ¿one on with his stoiy, and
von would have escwed the thump with the stone, the kicks, and above
ualf'a-doEen buffets."

" in faith, Sancho," answered Don Quixote, " it then didst bnt
know, as I do, how honourable and how eicellent a lady Queen Made-
sima was, I am certain thou wouldst acknowledge that 1 had a great
deal of patience in forbearing to dash to pieces that mouth out of
which such blasi^emies issued ; for it is a monstrous impiety to si^,
or even to think, that a (jueen should be paramour to a barber-
snrgeon. The truth of the story is, that master Elisabat, of whom
the madman spoke, was a most prudent man, of sound judpnent, and
KTved a» tutor and physician to the queen ; but, to suppose that she
was bis mistress is an absurdity deserving of severe punishment ; and
to prove that Cárdenlo knew not what he spoke, thou mavest remem-
ber that, when he said it, he was not in his senses." " That is what
I say," qnoth Sancho ; and therefore no account should have been
made of his words ; foi\ if good fortune had not befriended jonr wor-
ship, and directed the mnt-stone at your breast instead of your head,
we had. been in a fine condition for standing up in defence of that
dear lady, whom Heaven confound ; and Cardenio would have come
off unpunished, being insane," Against the sane and insane,"
answered Don Quixote, " it is the duty of a knight-errant to defend
the honour of women, particularly that of a queen of such eialted
worth as Qncen Madasima, for whom 1 have a particular affection, on
acconnt of her excellent qualities : for, besides bcnig extremely beau-
tiful, she was very prudent, and very patient in her afflictions^^ which
were numerons; and the connsets and company of master Elisabat
were of great use and comfort to her, enabhng her to bear her suffer-
ings with prndeuce and patience. Hence the ignorant and evil-

" "Abad." Sancho, ranmabering only the latUr port of mastoi
"Haabat't naiM^ plwwtnUy «aUa hlu an abbot.

A.OOgIC

UNCHO'S FSOTXBBS. 119

minded valgar took oeouioa to aap that she «as his paramour ; and
I sajr Bcain, thef lie, and «ill lie t«o bondred times more, all «ho »nj

or thiiii it, " I neither say nor think so," anawered Sancho. " Let
those «ho sar it eat the lie, and swallow it with their bread : vhethei
they «ere guiltf or no, the; have given aoooont to God before now.
1 oome from m; vinejara i 1 know nothing. I am no friend to inquir-
ing into other men's lives ; for he that hufs and lies shall find the
Me left in his purse behind. Beaides, n^ed was I born, and naked I
remain ; I neither win nor lose ; if they were gnilty, what is Üiat to
me? Many thiuk to find hacoi^ «ben there is not so much as a pb
to hang it on ; hut who can hedfre iu the cuckoo — especial^ as God
himself is not spared?" "HeaTca defend mo!" uúdDon Qaisote'
" what a string of nonsense ! ^Vhat has our subject to do with all
these proverbs ? Prythee, Sancho, peace ; and henceforward attend
to thy ass, and forbear onV interference with what does not oonoem
thee. Be conTÍnccd, bv thy five senses, that wjiatever I have done,
do. or shall do, b highW reasonable and exactly confonnabie to the
rules of chivalry, wnicb 1 am better acquainted with than all the
knights whoever professed it in the worltL " Sir," replied Sancho,
" is it a good rule of chivalry for us to go wandering through these
mountaias, without either path or rood, in quest of a madman who,
perhaps «¿en he is found, will be inclined to finish what he
began— cot his stoij, but the breaking of your «orship's head and
my ribs?"

" Peace, Sancho, I repeat," said Don Quinóte ; " for know that it
is not onlv the desire of finoii^ the madman that brings me to these
ports, hut an intention to perform in them an exploit wnereby I shall

niire pen>etaal tame and renown over the face of the whole earth ;
it shall be anch an one as shall set the seal to moke on aocom-
plished knight-errant." "And is this exploit a verv dangerous one F "
quoth Sancno. " No," answered the knight ; " altoough Uie die may
chance to run unfortnimtely for ns, yet the whole will depend upon
thy diligence." " Upon my diligence ! " esclaimed Sancho. " Yea,"
said Don Quixote ; for if thy return be speedy from the place whi-
ther I intrad to send thee, my pain will soon be over, and my gbrj
forthwith commence : and that thou mayest no longer be in suspense
with regard to the tendency of my words, I inform thee, Sancho^ that
the fmnous Amadis de Gaul was one of the most perfect of kmghts-
errant — I should not say one, for he «as the sole, the prinoipanthe
nnigue — in short, the prmce of all his contemporaries. A fig lorDon
Beliaois, and all thoee «ho say that he equalled Amadis in anything I
for I swear they are mistaken. I say, moreover, that if a painter
would be famous in his art, he must endeavour to copy alter the
originalB of the most excellent masters ; the uune rule is also appli-
cable to all the other arts and sciences which adorn the common-
wealth ; thus, whoever aspires to a reputation for prudence and
patience, most imitate TJIysses, in «hose person and toüa Homer
draws a lively picture of those qualities ; so also Tii^ in the oha-
iseter of £aeaa, delineates filial pietv, courage, and martial skill.
being representations of not «hat tney really were, but of what
they onpii to be, in order to serve as models of virtue to saoceeding
gñieTations. Thus was Amadis the polar, the morning star, and the
son of oil valiant and enamoured knighia, and whini-all we, who
müitota onda the baonen of love ana obivaliy, ought to ioUov.
, , . .A.OOgIC

ISO MU «VaOTE.

Thia bein^ the case, fiiend Sancho, that kDÍgfat-«rrsiit who best
tmitatea lum «ill be most certain of arriving at pre-eminenee in
ohÍTalT7. And an occasion upon which the knight particnlBrl? dis-
played his pnidenee, worth, connoe, palience, constancy, and lore,
was his retiring, when disdnined bj tlie lady Oriana, to do penance
on the sterile rock, changing his name to that of Bellenebros — a name
most oertanily aignilicant and proper for the Hfe he had voicintarüy
chosen. Now it ia easier for me to imitate him in tliis than in cleav-
ing giants, beheadinf serpents, slaving dragons, routing; armies, shal-
tMing ficets, and dissolving enchantments ; and, since this place is so
well adapted for the parpóse, I ought not to ne^ect the opportnoity
which is now so coumodioiisly offered tc — "

" What is it Tonr worship really intend

thtsP" demanded Sancho, "Have I no

Quiiote, " that I design to imitate Amadis, acting here the desperate,
raving, and fnrions lover; at the same time folluwiiur the euuniile of
the TBliant Dun Orlando, when he found bj the side of a fountain
some indications that Antiebca the Fair had diahononred herself with
Medoro ; at grief whereof he ran mad, tore up trees by the roots, dis-
turbed the waters of the crystal spnags, slew shepherds, destroyed
flocks, fired cottages, demouahed bouses, dragged mares alon^ the
ground, and committed a hundred thousand other eitiavs^ces,
worthy of eternal record. And althougbit is not my desiento imitate
Eoldan, or (Jrlando, or Kntolando (tor be is called by all these names),
in every point and in all his frantic actions, words, and thonghts, yet
I will gire as good a sketch as I can of those which 1 deem most
essential. Or I may, perhaps, i>e content to imitate only Amadis,
«ho, without oommittmg any mischievous excesses, by tears and
lamentations alone attained as much fame as all of them." " It seems
to me," quoth Sancho, "that the knights who acted in .such manner
were provoked to it, and had a reason for these follies and penances ;
bnt pray what cause has your worship to run mad ? What lady has
disdained you P or what tokens hare you discovered to convince you
that the lady Dulcinea del Toboso has committed folly either with
Moor or Christian P" "There bes the point," answered Don Quixote,
"and in this consists the refinement of my plan, A knight-errant
who runs mad with jnst cause deserves no thanks ; but to do so with-
oat teoaon is the point; giving my hidy to understand what 1 should
perform in the wet if I do this in the dry. Besides, I hare cause
enough giren me by so hmg an absence from my erer-hononred lady
Dulcinea del Toboso ; for as thou heardst that shepherd, Ambrosio,
say, 'The absent feel and fear every ill.' Therefore, friend Sancho.
oounsel me not to refrain from so rare, so happy, Mid so unparalleled
an imitation. Mad I am, and mad I must be until thyretum with an
answer to a letter I mternd to send by thee to mv lady Dulcinea ; and
if it proves such as my fidelity deserres, mv madness and my penance
will terminate. But if the contrary, I shall be mad indeed; and,
being so. eball become insensible to everythin»; so that whaterer
answer she returns, I sb^be relieved of the conflict and pain wherein
thou leavest me ; for if good, 1 shall enjoy it in m^ right senses : if
otherwise, I shall be mad, and consequently insensible of my
misfortune.

" But, tell me, Sancho, hast thon taken care of Mambrino's hdmet f
lor I WW thee take it from the ground, when that ungrateful wretdi

Uigniaüb, Google

A.OOi^lc

IHX KXieHT'l TOW. Lfl

prared tie exeelkaiee of Hs qnality, hj vaiiilr endesrouríng to break
it to pieces." TovhiohSaBdioaiiswend: As Qod liTeth, sir kiiight
t)t the sMTOwfol figure, I oaonot bear «ith patience aooie thio^n tout
«OTsliip BBjB : they are euoogh to m&ke me think that all you lell me
of chiTslrj-. and of wiuniug kingdams and empiiea, of beatowii^
iilaads, and doing othor faTOois and nughtj things, according to tbé
onstom of knigbtg^rrant, nnist be matter of mere siuokc, and all
friction or ¿ction, or how do you call it F For, to heai you my tbat a
barber'a baain ia Mambrino'B helmet, and to pervist in that error for
near about fonr days, what can one think, bnt that he vrho saya and
affiims such a thine, mast he crack-brained ? I have the basin in my
wallet, all buttered : and I shall take it home to get it mended, for
the use of my beard, if Hearen be so gracious as to restore mo one
time or other to mv wife and children." " Now I swear by the same
oath," said Don Qniiote, " that tbon hast the shallowest brain that
any squire has. or ever had, in the world. Is it possible that, not-
withstanding all the time thon hast travelled with me, thou dost not
perceive that all a&ira in wbicb knighls^mnt are concerned appear
«¿umerae, follies, and extravagances, aod seem all done by the rnle of
contraries ? Kot that they are in reality so, bnt because there is a
crew of eoohanten always about ns, who metamorphose and disguise
all our concenia, and torn them ■ccording to their own pleasure, or
according as they are inclined to favour or rain us. Hence it is that
the thing whicli to thee appean a barber's basin, appears to me the
helmet oT Mambrino, snd to another wiU appear something else ; and
it was a «ingolar foresight of the sage, myfrieod.to make that appear
to others a basin wmch really and tridy is Mambrino's helmet ;
because, being of anch high value, aH the world would persecute me
in (odcr to obtain it ; but now, thinking it nothing but a barber'a
basin, they give themselves no trouble aboot it, as was evident in him
who^ after endeavouring to break it, cast it from him ; which, in faith,
he would never had done had he known what it was. Take care cs

mountain, wLich stood separated {ram several others that surmnnded
it, as if it had been hewn out from them. Kear its base ran a gentle
Stream, that watered a verdant and iuiuriant vale, adorned with manjr
wide^preadioR trees, olants, and wild flowers of various hues. iW
was the spot in which the knigjit (á the sorrowful figure chose to
perform his penance ; and, while contmnplajing the scene, he thus
broke forth in a loud voice : " This is the place, Ü ye heavens I which
I seleot and appoint for bewailing the misfortune in which ye have
involved me. This is the spot where my flowing tears shall merease
the waters of this crystal stream, and my sighs, continnal and deep,
shall inoeasantlv more the foliage of these lofty treces, in testimony
and token of the pain mj perseeoted heart endures. 0 ye rural
deities, whoever ye be, that mhabit theae remote deserts, give ear to
the complaints of an unhappy lover, whom lon;^ absence and some
pangs of jealousy have driven to bewail Imnself among these rugged
heights, and to complnin of the cruelty of that ungrateful fair, the

129 jxa ^nizoTx.

of the moant^ grxwea (so mij the nimble and laKOrioitt satyra, by
wkom yt are wooed in Tain, aever disturb yoor vweet repoae), Msist
me to ument my bard fate, or at least be not weary of heumg mf
graai)3 ! O my Dulcinea del Toboso, light of my darknees, glory
of my pain, the north-star of my traTels, and over-miing plmet of
my fortune (so may Heaven listen to all thy petitions), couñder, I
bráeech thee, to what a condition thy absen<« hath reduced me, and
rewaid me a> mr fidelity deaerres ! 0 ye solitary trees, who hew»-
forth are to be tae oompauions of my retirement wave gently yoor
braocbet, to indicate that my preseoee does not offend yoa 1 Anil, 0
^ou my sqnire, agreeable oompanion in my prosperous and adverse
fortune, cwefolly imprint on thy memory what thou shalt see me here
perform, that then mayest recount and recite it to her who is the sole
cause (» ^ ! " Thus saying, he alighted from Bozimnte, and in an
instant took oft his bridle and saddle, and, clappbg him on the hindo*
parts, said to him: "O steed, ae excellent tor thy performance as
unfortonate in thy bte I he gives thee liberty who is himself deprived
of it. Go whither then wilt ; for than hast it written on thy forehead
that neither Astolpbo's Hippcwriif, nor the famous Fnmtino, which
cost Bradamante so dear, could match thee in speed."

Sancho, obeerving all this, said, " Heaven's peace be with hhn who
Mved us the tronble of nnhamedsing Daptde ; for in faitii he should
have wanted neither slaps nor speeches in his praise. Yet if he were
here, I woold not consent to his being unpannelled, there being no
occasion for it, for he had nothing to do with love or despair, anr
more than I,^ who was oni^e his master, when it so pleased Qoa.
And traty, sur knight of the sorrowful %are, if it be so, that my
departure and your madness take place in earnest, it will be well la
saddle Roiinfuite again^ that he may supply the losa of my Dapple,
and save me time in going and coming ¡ forif I walk, I know not now
I ¿all be able either to go or retnm, being in truth but a Bony
traveller on foot." " fie that as thou wilt," answered Don Quixote,
"for I do not disapprove thy proposal ; and 1 say thou shalt depait
within three days, during whicn tuns 1 intend thee to bear wiCnesi of
what I do say for her, that thou mayest report it accordindy."
"What have I more to see," quoth Sancho, "than what 1 have
already seenf" "So far, ibon art well prepared," answered Don
Quixote ; " but I have now to rend my garments, scatter my arms
about, and dash my head against these rocks ; with other things of the
like sort, which will strike thee with admiration." " For the lore of
Beaven, said Sancho, " beware how you give yourself those blows,
for yon may chance to touch npon some nnlncky point of a rock, that
may at once put an end to this new project of penance : and I should
think, since your worship is of opinion that knocks ot the head are
necessary, and that this work cannot be done without them, yoa
might content youraelf, since all is a fiction, a connterfeit. and a sham,
—I s^r, you mi^t content younelf with running your head against
water, or mue soft thing, such as cotton ; and leave it to me to tell
my lady that yoa dashed your head against tJie point of a rock, harder-
than a diamond." " 1 thank thee for thy good inlentioos, &irad
Sancho," answered Don Quixote ; " but 1 would have tliee to know,
that all these actions of mme are no mockery, but done very mnt^ in
«arneat ; for to act otherwise would be an infraction of the rules of
diivalir, which eoioou na to ntter oo falsehood, <n pais of being
,, .A.OOgIC

pnnided m upogUtte ; ud the doing one Üaog toe uioUier ü tlio
Mune mljing: tbnefore, bk)w> most m red and snbstaotial, vithoat
artifice or eraácm. Hotrever, it will be aecettarj to leare me loBie
Hot for mr wanndi, dnee it vu the will of fartane tkat we should
loM the balMm." "It wu wane to laMUieaas,"MUweTed Sancho;
"for with bim wo lost lint and eTerrthing elfe. Audi beseedi yonr
woniiipnat to jmt me inmindof tiiat enned dreneh ; for at barely
kewÍBK it mei^ioDed, my ^ay soul, aa well aa mj Uomach, is tamea
inaide ont. Aa for the thne days allowed m« for leeing Ttnr ami
pranka, I beeeeoh jtoa to reckon tbem as already paiaed, for I take *Ji
lor fiuUed, ana will tell wondera to my kdy. Do yon write Üie
btter aod (UMtoh me qniokly, for I lonf; to come ba^ and lelease
yoor wonhip from thupamtoiT, in iriuch I leare jou." " Ponta-

torr, doat thoa call it, Suoho!''said Don Quixote. "Call it rather
kcU, oc wroae, if anythini? can be wone." " 1 hare heard aay," anoth
Bancl^ " ' from hell thoe is do retentioo.' " "I know not, said
Don Qohot^ "what retention means." " Batention," answered
SoBoho, "means that he whoisoneoin twUnerndoes, norerercan,
pet oat again. Bat it will be anile the rercne with yonr wonhip, at
it shall go hard with my heels, ill have but spara to enliven Hoiioante.
Let me but once set to Toboso, and into the preeenoe of my Isdy
DidaÍMa,widI will tell her taoh a story ttf the fboU^ mad things ^fot
tbey are all no bet(«r) which your wonhip haadme and is still dornp,
that I shall brino' her to be is supple «s a ^re, thongh I Snd her
hsvderthanaaon-tree; and with ber answer, all sweetness and bone^,
will I retnm throng the ait, like a witch, ntd fetch Tonr worship
mt of thia pntRstoty, which^ though it seems so, is no hell, becanae,
M I said, jvor woniup nay Mpe to get out of it."

" That is tnw," answered the knight of tiio sorrowful figuro —
" bnt how ihall we oonliiTe to write toe letter P" " And the ua-oott
Inlir" added Sanclio. "Nothing shall be onullcd," said Don
QoHote; "andaiaoB we hsre no paper, ve shall do well to write it
■a the ancients did, on the leaves of trees, or on tablets of wa.T ;
tikon^ it will be aa difienlt at present to meet with titese as with
pi^M». Bn^ BOW I nooUeet, it may be aa wdl, or indeed bettca-, to
wnte it in CMrdenio's pooket-book, and yaa will take can to get it

!, any psri^-clerk will tran-
•oribe it for yon : but be sore yon give it to no hackney-writer of the
law- for the devilhimself will never be able toread their confounded
kw-taad." "Bnt what moat we do about the sJiiiing it wilh yonr
own kand f " said Sancho. " The letters of Amadis were nerer snb-
seribed," answered Don Quixote. "Very well," replied Sancho;
" hot the order for the colts must needs he signed by yourself ; for if
tiiat be et^iied liiey will say it is a fiJse signature, and I shall be
forced to go withont the coltn," " The order shall be si^cd in the
same pooket-faook ¡ and at sight of it my niece wiU make no dif&cnlty
in ocmp^ing with it. As to the loreJetter, let it be subscribed thns,
'Totm.mitil death, the Kniahtof the Sorrowful Figure.' And it is of
little importanoe wnether it oe written in another hand ; for 1 remem-
ber, Dnldtwa oui neither write n/x rtad, nor has she ever seen a
letter or writing of mine in her whole life ; for oor loves have always
beoi of the Plutonio kind, eitendmg no farther than to modest glances
•teadi other ; and «ran those so very tanly that loan truly swear

that, during Üie iwdra tmjs Üsat I hiTe loved bcr men than tke
light of these eires, whicL Iheearthmiut one d^r consume, Ihavenot
seen her four times ; and perhaps of these four times she may not
have once perceived that I looked upon her — soch is the r^rve Kod
seclusion in wliich she is brought up h
and her motiier, Aldonia Kogales!"

"Uer da;!" quoth Ssocha " vhat, the daushter of IxHvnso Cor-
chuelo ! Jj she the lad; Bukioea del Toboso, otlierwiae called
Aldooza Lorenzo?" "It iseveashe," said Don Quixote, " aod she
desen'es to be mistress of the univeise." " I know her welL" ouott
Sancho } "and I can assure jou she will pitch the bar with tbe lusti-
est swain in tbe parish, I^ng live the giver ! why, she is a kse i^
mettle, tall, straight, and vigorous, and I warrant ceu make her part

CI with any knight-errant tbat shall have her for a mistress. O,
jade, what a pair of luni^ and a voice she has I I remmiber she
got out one day upou the bell-tower of the church, to call some foung
ploughmen who were in a iieid oí her fathei^sj and though they were
naif a lea^G off, the; heard her as plainly as if they haa stood at the
foot of the tower ; and the bett of her is, that slie is not at all coy, but
a« bold as a court lady, and makes a jest aud a maygame of ererybodv.
I say, then, sir kni^-ht of the sorrowful figure, that you not ooly
mav, Bod ought to run mad for her, but also yon m»y lustly despair
and hanff yourself; uid nobody that hears it but will s^ voudid
extremely well, though the devil should carry you away. I would
fain begone, if it ia <mly to see her; for I have not seen her this mapjr
a dav, aud by this lime she must needs be altered ; for it mightily
spoils women's faces to be always abroad in the field, exposed to tbe
sun and weather. 1 confess to your worship, Siguor Don Quiiobe,
that hitherto I have been hugely mistaken, for 1 thought for certain
that the lady Dulcinea was some great princMS, with whom yoa
were in love, or at least some person of such great uuality as to
deserve the nob presents yon have sent h^r, as well of the liisetuner
asof the galley-slaves ¡ and many others from the vioUiries your wor-
ship must have gained before I came to be your squire. But, all
things considered, what »x>d can it do the lady Aldonsa Ixureozo — I
mean the lady Dulcinea del Toboso— to have the vanquished whom

Eur worship sends, or nuvy semi, falling upon their knees before her P
If perhaps at the time they arrive she mav be carding Uai, or thresh-
ing m the Dam, and they may be confounded at th<' sight of her, and
she may lasgh and care ¡ittle for the present." " I have often told
thee, Sancho," said Dc" " ' '" "" ' ''^ " "' " ' ^ -^ ' >'
au4 though void of wi
thee at once of thy f
tale.

^ " Know, then, that a certain widow, handsome, young, gay, and
rich, and withal no prude,fell in lovewiih aW-brüther, young, well-
made, and vigorous. His superior heard of it, and one day took
occasion to speak to the Kood widow, in the way of brotherly repre-
hension. ' I wonder, madam,' said he, ' and not without great reason,
that a woman of your quality, so beautiful, and so rich, should fall in
love with such a deepicable, mean, silly fellow, when there are, in this
house, so many graduates, diguitoricB, and divines, among whom you
might pick and choose, and say this I like and this I leave, aa you
would among pears.' Jiut ahie aoawered him great frankness «ud

THE KinOET mms t

Kuetj: 'Tonaj

very KntiimBt«d

fellow, Billf IB he maff Bp[)e)u', srace, for oufchC tbat 1 desire of Min|
he koovs ts mach of iihilosophj' as Aristotle Mmself, if not more.
In like mamier, Sanono, Bulcmot del Toboso, for the purpose I
intetid her, deserres as highW lo the greatest princess on eiirth. For
of thoM poeta who have celeWted the praises of kdies under fictiti-
ous namea, nao; hod do soch mistresses. ThinJcest thoa that the
Amarythses, the Phfilises, the ^vias, the Dianas, the Calateas, the
Alidas, and the like, famous in books, ballads, barbers' shops, and
»ti^-lda¡ra, were reaUr ladies of flesh and blood, and bekived by those
who have (¿lebtated tiiem f Certainly not : thev are mostlv feipneA
to supt^r Bnbjoots for Tenc, and to make the authors pass for meti oi
gaJiantry. It is, therefot«, auSctent that 1 think and believe that the
^ood Aldonia Lorenzo ia beautiful and chaste ; and as lo her lineage
it matters not ; for no inquiry concerning it is requisite ; and to me
it isunneceMBiT, aslre«ardheras the greatest prmcees in the world.
Pot thoo must know. Sancho, if thon knowest it not already, that two
things, above all otners, incite to love, nameiy, beauty and a good
name. Now both theae are to be found in perfection in Dulcinea;
fi»' in beauty none can be compared to her, and for purity of reputa-
tion few (»n equal her. In ñne, I ocHiceiTe she is exactly what I have
deaonhed, aod everythinK that I can desire, both as to heaoty and
qnaUty, unequalled by Helen, or by Lucratia, or any other of the
liunoua women of antiquity, whether Grecian, Roman, or Goth ; and
I care not what be said ; since, if, npon this accoont, I roa bUnied
l^ the ignorant, I shall be acquitted by the wise." "Your worship,"
rallied Sandio, "is always in the rifht, and I am an ass — why do I
mention an ass f — one should not talk oí halteta in t^ honse of the
htn^ed. But I am off— five me the letter, air, and God be with

Don
with n , „ - , „ „

called Saiudio, and said he woaldreadit tonim, that be mieht
it by heart, lest he might perchance lose it by the way : lor every-
thing WM ta be feared from his evil destiny. To which Sancho
anawned : " Write it, sir, two or three times in the book, and give it
roe, and I will take good care of it : but to suppose that 1 can carry
it in my memory, is a folly : for mine is so bad that I often foreet n^
own name. Your worship, however, may read it to me ; I shall be
glad lo bear it, for it must needs be very much to the purpose."
listen, then," said Bon Qoixote, "this is what X have written: —

" Don Quixoie't tetter to Dulcinea del Toboio.

" Hitch and sovereign lad;,
" He who is stabbed by the pcónt of absenoe, and pierced br
the (ROWS of love, 0 sweetest Dolcmea del Toboso, greets thee witn
wisfaea fcur that health which he eqjoys not himself. If thv beauty
demise me, if thy worth favour mo nc^, and if thy disdain still pursue
roe, atthoDgh inm^ to gnfering I shall ill support an affliction which
is not only severe hat lasting. My good sqoire Sancho will tell thee.
O nngrateful fair, and most beloved foe, to what a state I am reduoea
on tl9 aocouBt If it be tby pleaaare to relieve me^ I am thine; if
,, .A.OOgIC

ISO Bov qnxon.

not, do irh&t Monetli good to tlwe : for br my death I sball at once
qtpcAse ttkf cnidt; and mj own passion.— Until death tiiioe,

" Th2 Kmishi or THE SoRBOiTFnL Fievsi."

"Bf the life of mj father," qnotli Sancbo, añer heuingr the 1ott«T,
"it is the finest thing I ever beard. Odds boddikins I how choicely
yourworship fopreaaes whatever youplease ! and bow well yon dose
all with ' the lassbt of the sorrowful Sfure ! ' Veritr, jonr worship
is the devil hiniseu-~Ume is notiiing but what yon enow." "The
profession which I have embmoed," answeied Don Qoixote, " requires

,,___^i_j___, -^ í."^Tr(il,then,"MÍd8ft' ' "

der fOT tha tin ,

lat fint^si^.'^'

la follows: — '

"Dear niece— At sirfit of thismjflnt bill of «swwltt, pro order
that three ont of the five I left at home in jonr enstod;, be delivovd
to Sancho Panza, my sqaire: which three cohs 1 ordertóbeddivered
and paid for the like Domber received of him here in tale ; and thi^
with his aoqnittanoe, shall be your diadiarn. Draw in tiie heart
<rf the Siem Msren^ the twcnty-seowd <H ixgott, tíos loesent

"It B mighty well," süd Sanolio; now nm have only to sign it."
" It wants no siening," said Don Quicate: *' I need only pnt mv cypher
to it, which is the same thing, ana is sufficient not only for tbree but
hr three hundred asses." " 1 rely upon yonr worship," asgwenid
Sancho ; " let nie go and saddle Rontumte, and prepare to give me
your blessing, for lintend to depart immediately, without itaying to
see the mad frolics you are about to commit ; and I will tell quite
enough to satisfy her." " At least Sancho," said Don Quixote, "I
wish, nay, it is necessary, audi will have thee see me naked, and per-
form a dozen or two fnuitic actions ; for I shall dispatch them in lest
than half an hour : and having seen these with thine own ene, thou
mayest safely swear to those thon shalt add; for be assured Ihon wilt

— .__!_. T. •..._.. J, _ . ¡ffopin» "For the love of Heaven,

i not see jour worshin naked ; for
. , , lahallnof be able to lorbeor weep-

ing : and my head is 90 bad, after the tears I shed last uij^t for the
loss of poor Dapple, that I am in no condition at present to begin new
lamentations. So, if yoor worship will have me an eye-witneae to taj
of your antics, pray do them clothed, and with all speed, aud let them
be such as will stúul you in most stead : though, indce4 there is no
need of Uiem— as I said before, it is only deiavmg my return, with
the news your worship) so much desires and aeservea. So let tíie
lady Dulcinea look to it ; for if she does not answer as she ^uld do,
I solemnly protest I will fetch it out of her stomach by dint of kicks
and bnfFeta— for it is a ehame that so famous a knight^mnt as your

worship shouhi run mad, without why or wherefore, for a : let

not madam proT<^e me to speak out ; or, before Heaven, I shall blab,
and out with all by whoTceale, though it spoil the market. I am
pretty good at tliis sport ; she does not know me ¡ if she did, in failfa,
we should be (i one loind." " In trath, ijonoho," said Don Qoixoi^
, , . .A.OOgIC

THI KHI^I JXm» nHAMCB. 137

"to all appeannoe tim art mad ai inyBeU." "Not so," answered
Sandio, onlr a little more cfaoleric Bn^ aetting that aaide, what
has jciir worsh^ to est mtil mr leUaa F Are ;ou to go npon the
faiffhwaj, to rob the shepherds, likeCardenioF" "Trouble not thj-
scJf about that/' answered Dcm Qaixot« : " for were I otherwise pio-
Tided, I ahoula «at notbins but the kerbs and Cmita which here «row
wild : for abatineDce and other ansteritie» aro euential in this a&ir."
"Now I Uiink of <á, sir," said Sancho, " how shall I be able to find
mywar bnok a^ain to this bye^laoef" " Obserre utd mark well
the root, and I will andeavonr to reniaiii near it ;" said Don Quixote -,
"ana will, moreoTer, asoend some of the hig:hest rid^ to diaoorer
thee npon thr retum. Bnt the snrest way not to miss roe, or lose
tbjveli, will be to cot down aotne of the bmoiu that abonnda here,
Bul aoattei it here and there, on the way to the plain, to serve as
mailu and tokena to niide thée on thy retnni, in imitation of 'nteaens'

olae to the labyrinth.

Saacio Panra foUoi ,

with branches, he be{n[ed hia maater'a bleasinj

Sidkc^ Faoza followed this ocnnsel ; and harins prorided himself

'''' '' ' he be{n[ed hia maater'a bleaainK, ukd, not withoot

both Slam, todc hia lettre of him ; and mounting

np<ui Bodnante, with eai«cial obai^ from Don Quixote to ret. _
hnn as he wooU bia own ^oper perwn, be rode towards the plain,
■Aewing the bovgfas at interrals, as his master directed him. Thus

he deputed, although Don Qiuxote atill importuned him to stn
and see him perform if it were bat a oonple of his nmbols. He bad
net gone abore a hondred paoee when he turned back and «aid:

" Your worship, sir, aaid right that, to enable me to swear with añie
oousoiratee, it woold be propn I should at least see one of yonr mad
tricks i though, in plain tnith, I hare seen enough in seeing you.
stay here." Did 1 not tell oieosof" quoth Don Quiiote: ^' stay
bat a moment, Sancho — I will dispatch them as qnicUya* yqu<cui
mj a Credo." ^en stripping off his clothes in all haste, without
more ado he out a couple oi oapers in the air, and a) man^ tmnbles
heels over bead. SaniAo tuned Bocinante about, folly satisfied that
he might swear his master was stark mad : we wiL therefore leaire
himpnnoitighia journey until hia tetum, which was speedy.

CHAPTER IXÜT.

his gambda, half-naked, and perceiTing tiiat Suicho waa gone, with-
out oariuf^ (o be witness of any mon m his pranks, he mounted the
^of a high rock, and there b^can to delibente on a subject that be
often considered before, without ooming to any resolution ; and
that was which of the two was the best and moat proper model for
his iroitatJon, Orlando in his fnriraiB fits, or ¿madis in his melancholy
moods : and thus he argned with himself :^If Orlando was as good
and valimt a knight a* £e ia umTereally allowed to have been, where
A.OOgIC

198

is the wonder P siiice, m fact, he ma endumted, and coiil^ (uilr be
slain 1)y liaviog a needle thnist into the sole of nis foot ; nod there-
fore he alwavs wore shoes with seven soles afiroa. Thiseontrívance,
however, availed him nothing against Bernardo del Carpió, who
knew the secret, and pressed híni to death between Lis arms in Son-
cestallea. But setting aside his valour, let us oonsidei his madneM,
which was certainly occasioned by the discovery he made at the tonn-
tftin, and by the intelligence given him by the snepberd that Angebca
had proved faitlilesa with Modoro, a liUle curl-pated Moor, page to
A^^ramante. And if be knew this, and was convinced of his lady's
inttdelity, it was no wonder that he ran mad. But hon can I imitate
him in his phrenzy, nithont a similar cause F My Dulcinea del
Toboso, 1 dare swear, never in all her life beheld a ml and acknow-
ledged iMoor, and Ibat she is this diny as the molbei' that bore her:
and I sbould do her a inanifest wrong if, suspectinR otberwiae, I
should be seized with the same species of phrenn as toat of Orlando
Furioso. On the other side I see that Amsdis de Oaul, withont losing
his senses, or bavioe any raving fits, aoquired a reputation equally him
as a lover, smoe, finding himself disdained by the lady Uriana, who
commanded him not to appear in her presence until it was her plea-
sure, he only retired to the sterile rock, aooompanied bj; a hramit,
and there wept abundantly until Heaven suocoured him in his
great tribulation. Now this being the case, why should I take the
pains to strip myself naked, or molest these trees that never did me
narm? Or wherefore should I disturb the water of these orystal
streams, which are to furnish me with drink wben I want it F All
honour, then, to the memory of Amadis ! and let him be the model of
Don Quixote de la Maoeba, of whom shall be said, what was said of
aaoüier, that, if he did not adtieve great things, be at least died in
attempting Ihem ; ud tJtoufA neither iñeoted nor disdained by my
Xhilciuea, it is sufficieat that lam abseotnom her. Now then to the
work. Come to mgr memory, ye deeds of Amadis, and instmd: me
where to begin the task of imitation ! It now occurs to me Üat he
prayed mucn— that will I also do." Whereupon he strung some
large galla of a coHt-tree, which sored him for a rosary ; but be
regretted eiceediiiglvthat therewasno hermit to hear his confession,
and administer consolation to him. He thus passed the time,walkji^
about, and writing, and graving on the barks of trees, or tracing
in Ihe fine sand, many verses of a plaintive kind, or in praise oi
his Dulcinea. AJuongat those discovered afi^rwaras, only the fol-
lowing were entire and legible : —

Te lofty txttm, with tpttMung ams.

The ptida and shelter of the plain ;
Ve humbler ahruta ud flov'ry ohuM,

Whiuh here in apringicg glory niga 1
It my oiinplainU may pity move.

Wliila *rilii me here you pa» yonrliour^
" raid you grow fiided wita my carca,
'II bribe you iritb reñvshíug &bovers ;

Too shiLlI be wittered with ,

■ ^ pment in Idea,

.i,Googlc

Lore's tnuat abre, dcapairíng, choce
Tilia loDoly hUiI, tbis down pluiu.

Which he, thuiigh guiltlesa most soatún.
Unknowing why thoau paini he boan^,
He eroaog. he raves, and he disjHiln,

With Img'ñiig Area bro rocks my aonl :
In Tain 1 grieve, in vain Inmeat ;

Like tortur'd fiends J weep, I howl.
And burn, yet never son repent.

Disbuit, thou)^ pTDscaCi m idea,

1 moum mj obseat Dulaioea

ttelToboBO
While T thrao^ honcmr's thorny ways.

In aenreh ofdiBtBat ^lor? rove.
Malignant ftkte my toil ropay*

With endleiB wosa and bopelan love.
Thus 1 on Ijarrea roclu dexpnir,
And cursa my stars, yat hlosa my fiür.

Lace, orni'd with snakeB, has left lia HMtf
And DOW docs like a fary ravo ;

And 9CourL-o and sting on every port.
And into mndness lash his alaTs.

Distant, thonffh preseat in idea.

The vMiDUQal addition at the eod of each staoia oooasioned no
■mall kmnsein^ to those who found the veraea ; for thej' ooncladed
tlut i>oa Quixote hod thaugbt that, noLess to the nune of " Dul-
cinea " be added " Del Tolx»o." the object of his praise would not
be known — and they were rii;nt, as he aftenrarda oonfesBed. He
wrote niaoy others, bat only these three stanzas oonld be clevlr
nude out. In such tender and melancholy oecapations, sigbing, or
iityokiiig the ^Ivon ddties, the nymphs of the mountain Btreains,
and the mouiof ul echo, to listen and auswor to his moan, he pMsrd tiie
titDe: and aometimes lu gallierias herba to suttoin himself until
Sancho's return ; «ho, if he had tarried three weeks instead of three
days, "the knight of the sorrowful figure" would have been so
disGgured that he would not haye been leoognJsed by his own
mother. Here, liowevcr, it will be proper to leave him^ wrapped up
in Doetrf and griet to relate what liappcned to the squire during bw

As soon as Sancho hod gained the high-road, he directed his conrse
inunedJately to Toboso, and the next day he came within sight of the
inn where the misfortune of the blanket had befallen him, and, fancj-
ine himself again flyin? in the air ho felt, no disposition to enter it,
alihoogb it was then the hour of dmner, and he longed for something
warm— «11 having been coid-treot with bim for many days past. This
inclination, nev^heless drew lilm forcibly towards the inn ; and, as
he stood doubtful whether or not to enter, two persons came out
who immediately recognised him. "Pray, signor licentiate," said
one to the other, " b not that Sancho Panza yonder on horseback,
«ho, as our friend's housekeeper told us, accompanied her master as
hissqnireP" "Trulj;¡tÍ3," said the licentiate ; 'ondthatis onrDon
Quixote's horse." SSo woodcr they knew him so well, foi they wera

s

180 DOS QDTCOTE.

the priest ana barber of liis Tillage, and the VCTypersons who had tried
and passed sentence of execution on the mischievous books. Being now
certain it was Saucbo Panza and Eoidiiante, and hoping to hear some
tidings of Don Quixote, the priest went up to him. and^ calling him
by bis name, " Friend bancho Panza," said he, " wfiete liave you left
r master*" Sancho immediately knew tlicm.and resohcd to conceal

circumstances aud place ot Don Qoisotc's retreat ; he therefore

told them that his master was very busy in a certain jArxe, abont a

certain aiFair of the greatest importance to himself, wnich he durst

not discover for the eyes in his head. " No, no, Sancho," quotli the

barber, " that story will not pass. If you do not tell us where he

¡a, we shall conclude, as we suspect already, that yon ha\^ murdered

and nibbed him, since you come thus apon his horse. See, then,

that you produce the owner of that horse, or woe be to you!"

" There is no reason why you should threaten me," quoth Bancho ;

" for 1 am not a man to rob or murder anybody. Let erery man's

fate kill him, or God who made liim. My master is doini; a certain

.^^.■^^ ™,.~i. *« w;^ Li.;„™ in tt,p midst of yon mounlaina." He

ilation, rehitcd to them in what state

that had befallen tiiem, and how he

the ladv Dulcinea del Toboso-the

with whom his master was up to the

; Sancbo'a report ; and, thou^ they
a QuÍT.ote's derangcmeat, yet every
m a new source of wonder. They
them the letter he was carrying to
He said it was written in a poeket-
'dered him to get it copied out apon
Id arrive it. The priest said, it he
transcribe it ro a »ery fair character,
his bosom to take out the book, but
: found it had he searelied until this
Qciiote, who had forgntten to (rive it
e had no book, he turned as pale as
oyer his body in (jreat perturbation,
his beard with both handa, and tore
himself sundry cuffs on the nose and
I. The priest and barber aeeinsthis,
himself so ronghly. " Wherefore f
lare let slip through my fingers three
" "How so?" replied the barber.
' answered Sancho, " that contanied
11 silked by my master, in which he
me three colts out of four or five he
mention his losa of Dapple ; but the
T, telling him that, when he saw his
lo renew the order upon paper in a
n IKicket'book would not be accepted,
assurance, and said that he did not
Doleinen, aa he could almost say it by
heart ; ao that they mi?ht write it down, where and when they
pleased. "Repeat it-, then, Sancho." quoth the huber "and wo
will write it afterwai-ds." Sancho then began to scratck hia hcbl,

A.OOgIC

■qniBB SAVCHO. 131

border to fetdtiheletter to hisiemembntnoc; noTrheiiloodnpODOne
tocA, and llicn upon the oUier; sometimes lie looked down upon the
ground, snd «omelimea up to tlie aky: then, ufler biting off half n
luil of one finger, and keeping his hearera Ion? in exncctation, he
Mid: "The devü take all I remember of the lettCT; though at the
bíwniúnB I believe it said, ' High and eubterrane lady.' " " No,"
said Iheljarber, "not subterrane, but sunerlmmane, or sovereig»
Lidj." " Aye, so it was," said Sancho. " Tlien, if I do nut mistake,
it went oil, Ifae stabbed, and Üie waking, and the pierced, kixsea
jour honour's hands, unn«teful and most regardless fair;' and
then it said I know not what of ' healUi and sickness that he sent ¡'
it on, until at hist he ended with ' thine till deitb, the

.- jorcowful fijjure.' "

e boti not a little diverted at Saoeho's eiceDnnt memorj,
aoa commended it mndi, desiring him to repeat the letter tvice mote,
tiui they also might get it bf heart, in wdec to wril« it down in due
time. Thrice Sancho repeated it, and thrice he added three thousand
otlter extravagances : relating to them also many other Ihinzs coa-
cenÚDK lib master, but nut a word of the bhnket. He informed
tbün likewise how bis lord, upon his return witli a kind despatch
from his lady Dulcinea del Toboso, was to aet about endeaTOuring to
become aii emperor^, or at least a king (for ao it was couccrtea'^be-
twecD them)— a thing that would be very easily done, considering
tiie valour and strength of bis ma; and when this w

¡^hed. his master was to marry him fas by thut time he sliouhl,
BO doubt, be a widower), and give him to wife one of the empress's
natda of honour, heiress to a large and rich territory on the main-

muf. for, as to islands, iie was quite_out of conceit with them.
Sanclio said all this with so much gravity, ever and anon wiping
bis nose, that the/ were anuwed at the poteney of Don Quixote's
malady, which bad borne along with it tlie senses also of thisjwor

ÍbUo*. Tliey would not themselves the trouble to convince him of
lis fcJlj, as it was of a harmless nature, and afforded them amuse-
ment; they therefore told him be abould pray tor Lis lord's health,
«nee it was very possible and very practicable for him in process of
tinte t« become an emperor, as he said, or at least an arahbishop. or
•amethinK else of equal dignity. To which Saacho answered, " Gen-
Ikmen, iffartuoB should so oraerit that mymastcrshould take it into
his head not to be an emperor, but an archbishop, I would fain know
«hat arohbishops-errani usually give to their squiresf" "They
oiuaUy^ve them," answered the priest, "aome benefice or core, or
v^ershipv which brbgs them in a good penoy-renti besides the
" '' 8 of the altar, usually valueo. at as much more," " '"—

tins it will be oeccssióy," replied Sancho, " that the squire be
aamarried, and that he know, at least the responses to the ma^
•ud if so, woe is mu 1 for I am married, and do not know my ABC.
"What TiU become of me, if my master should hare a mind lo be an
.ftrohUi^iop, and not an emperor, like other knights-crraiit t" " Bo
Bot uneasy, friend Sancho, said the barber, " lor we will admonish
andtntiat your master, even to make it a ease of conscience, to
bceoipe an emperor and not an archbisbop ;— indeed, it will suit him
better, aa hA is more of a soldier than a scbolar." " So I think,"
■nsv^ed Sancdio, " though 1 can a£rm that he has a head.piece for
ereiftiiiiig ; but for my part, I will pra; Heaven to dircui hun to

^* r , . ■ A.OO'^IC

m DOB qoizoTE.

tbat which is b? st for him, and v31 enable him to áo the moet fot
me." " You talk like awise man," said the priest, "and a good
Christian ; but ue must now contrive t« relieve jour master froiu tliis
unprofitable penance ; and, therefore let na go in to concert proper
measures, nnd also to get onr dinner, which by tiis time ia ready."
Bnneho said they might go in, but thnt he slioulJ clioose to stay
without— he would tell them why anotlier time; he begi:ed th<;m,
howerer, to bring him out something warm tn eat, and also samo
barley for Uozinante. Aceordingly they left him and entered the
inn, and sotm after the barber returned to him with some food.

The cúralo and barber haviog deliberated together on the best
means of aceoniplishiu^ their purpose, a device occurred to Ibc prieiit,
esactly fitU'd to Don Quixote's huniour, and likely to effect what they
defiired: wbich was, that be should perform hitnaelf the part of a
damsel-errant, and tne barber eijuip him»elf as her squire ; in which
disguise they sboulil repair to l>on Quixote : and the curate present-
ing himself as an aíBicted and distressed hidy. should bc^ a Doon of
him, which he, as a valorous kaigb t- errant, coidd not douthcrwisc than
grant; and this sboald be a request that he would accumiumy her
whjttier she should lead him, to redress an injury dime her by a dis-
coarteons kn^ht ; entreating him, at the same time, not to desire licr
to remove her mask, nor make any I'nrthcr inquiries conoeming her,
nntil he had done her justice on that wickedWgbt. lie mode UD
doubt bat that Don Quísote would consent to any suoh torras, and
" • ■ • ■' - ■ ■ ■■ ■■ ^j place, and carry him home,

le remedy (or hisextraordmai;

CHAPTER XXTII.

The barber liked the priest's contrÍTance so well that they ¡mme-
di^ely began to earry it into execution. They borrowed a petticoat
and head-dress from the landlady, leaving in pawn for them a new
cassock belonging to the priest ; and the 6arl>er made himself a huge
beard of tlio tail of a pied ox, in which tiie innkeeper used to han^ lus
comb. The hostess having asked tliem for what purpose they wanted
those things the prie^st (fare her a brief account of Don Quiiote's
insanity, and the necessity of that disguise to draw h;!n from his
present retreat. The host and hostess immediately conjectured that
this was tbe same person who had ouce been their guest, the mater
of the bolsam, and the master of the blanketed squire; and tliey
related to the priest what hod passed bclween them, without omitting
what Siinelio bad been so carelul to conceal. In the mean time, tlio
lanilludy eiiuipped the priest to admiration: she put him on a cloth

lA'OO'^lc

THE PBIMT IKD TI» BAILBEB. 1311

made in tho iyrs of Kin? Bamba. The priest would not cnnsent to
wp«r a woman's bead-dress, but put on a little nliita quilted ca]j,
«liich he used ss a ni|^htr«i>, nnd liound one of hia partera of IiIhoIc
taflVta abont his head^ and with the other made a kind of veil, wbleh
coTcrcd his face and fjcatd very well. He then pulled his hat over
bis face, which wn9 so larfce th^ it aerved him fa- aa umbrella, and
wrapping his cloak around him, he got upon hia iduíe aidewaya like a
woman. The barber nHHinted also, with a beard that reached lo hia
Birdie, of a eolour between Borrel and white, betnK, as before said,
made of the tail of a pied oi. Thev took leave of all, sot excepting
the i;ood Maritornes, who promised, thongh a (inner, to pnj oser an
entire rosary that Heaven mj^t give them goodsueDessmaoaniuow
and Christian a bnaineaa a« tW. which they bad nndettaken.

But scarcelr had they got odt of the inn, when the curat* began to
think he had done amiss, uid that it was indceent fara))rie«t to beso
«enouticd, idthongh for so good a purpose : and aoquaintiit^ the barber
with his senples, he begged him to eiehango apparel, as it would
better beconne him to personate the diatresaed damsel, and he would
liimself act the sqnire, as being a less prefanalit» of hia diguity ¡ and,
if be would not consent, he was determined to proceed no laitlier,
thoa-rh the devil should ran away with Don Qiuxote. Tiiey wereitow
ioined by Sancho, who was highly diverted at thdr appearaiiee. The
«arber consented ti> the proposed exchaniBi upon nhich the priest
iicgan io instruct him huw to act hÍ9 part, ana what eipresaions to
use to Don Quixote, ia order to prevail upon hini to accompany them,
and leave tSe place of his pcnanoe. The fauber assured bim that,
without his instructions, he would undertake to manage that point to
a tittle. The dress, however, he would not pnt on, until they came
nearto the place of Don Quixote's retreat. The priest then adjusted
his beard, mid they proceeded forward, guided hy Sancho Panza, who
on the way r^ted tn them their adventure with the madmau whom
they had encountered in tke mountain ; but said not a word aboutthe
portmanleattand its contents; for with all his folly and simplicity, the
rogue was somewhat covetons.

The next day they arrired at the place where Saneho had strewed
the branches to aaeertaia the place where he had left his master;
and, upon sedng (hem, he gave notice that they hud entered llis
moiinlain niss, and would therefore do well to put on their diígiiisc,
if that had any aoncera with t>« deiiveiy of his master. Tiicy had
lefore told hini that their disffuise was of the utmost imporiance
towards disengaging his maiter from the miserable life he liad chosen ;
and Ihat he must by no means tell him who they were i and if he
should inrraire, as no doubt he would, whether he nad delivered the
letter to Dulemca, he siioiiM say he had ; and that slie, not being ahle
to read or write, had answered by word of month, and commandud the
knight, on pain of her displeaiurc, to repair to her inimediately, upon
an affair oi much importance : for, with this, and what they intended
TO say, themselves, they should certainly reoonoiie him to a better
mode cS life, and put him in the way of soon becoming an emperor, or
a king; as to an an^bishop, be baa nnthin; to fear on that subject.
Sanefio listened to all this, and imprinted it well on his memorj^ and
gave them many thuike t<jr promising to advise hi» lord to be an
empemr, and not an archbishop; for he was persuaded that, m
■csarding theár aqairea, emperon «onld do mote tlum aiohbishopa-

A.OOgIC

nould be sañicient to bnng him ont of that place, irithout farther
trouble. The? aereed with Sancho, wid determined to wait for hia
Tetnrn witli iotellifcencc of his master. Sancbo entered the mounlain
pass, and left them in a pleasant spot, rcfrc^licd bv a sti^amlctof
clear water, and shaded by rocks and over-hanging foliage.

It was in the month of Ausost, when in those parli the heats are
TJolent, auil akint three o'ckxik in the afternoon; on «liich account
thev found the situation very agreeable, and consented tlie more
readily to wait thrre till Sancho's return. While thej were reposinjf
in (he ihade, a Tuice reached their ears, which, although «naccom-
panicd by any instrument, sounded sweet aiid melodiona. They were
much surprised, since that was not a place where they might cspect
to heat fine singin¡( ; for, although it is common to tell of shepherds
with melodious Toices, warbling over hills and dales, jet this is rather
poetical fancy than plain truth. Besides, the Terses they heard were
not those of a rustic rouse, but of refined and oouitly invention, as vii'
appear by the following stauzaa . —

Wbat causes all mygriaf and point

Cmel diedain.
"What Bggravntea my miury T

Aotursml jualousy.
Hd* ba* my bouI ila patieuco IcatI

By ladion» nbseiice crow'd.
Aloa '. no bahazn can be found
To heal the grief of )ueb a woind.
Whon ftb»enc«. joalousy, and soorn,
Ubib left me tu^oe and Ibiiani.

Whnt in my breiul tbú grief could moTet

Neglocted loi'e.
■What lioth my tend de«iio< witJiaUnd !

. lioth my ti)
e'e cruBl hai

And what caofirme my mitery.t

Henren's fli'd decree.
Ah me ! my boding fears portead.
Tilia itrange di»Ba*e my lite will end !
For die I miMt, «hon three sncli fooa,
Eeav'D, £¡10, and tori^ my bliae oppoeob

Hv penoa of nJnd what can ratere t

DoLth's welcome hour.
Wliitt gBinB lora'ejoy* moat readily t

PfclcJQ inconitADCT.
Itapiin* whnt medicine can aenuget

Wild pbremy'i rage.
Tis Üiere&>re btUe wisdom, mr^
For «ich a grief to uek a euro.
That known no becter remedy
Than phreniy, dealli, inoanatanoj.

The hour, the season, the solitude, the voice, and fhe slEÜt of the
singer, all conspired to imiinss the auditors vilh wonder and delist,
and they remained for some time motionless, in expectation of heariiw
more : nut finiding the sileoce continue, they resolved to see who S

CABDEKIO S SOHQ.

vas vho had swg so agreeably : and were again detained b; the st
voice, regaling their ears with mis sonuet :—

FrieiuUhip, thou hnst with nimble flight
ExulUuK gúc'd th' ampyn*] height.
Id heaven M dxell, whilat here bolav
Thy «smbbutca roigas in mimic ahoi« :
From thonca to earth, at thy behest,
Doaoendi fair pCiioe, coleatiiü jraeat I

Deceit oft lorki, concMl'd bom view.

Leave, friend^p I leave th; hMTonly «at,

•n^e song ended with a deep sírIi, and they again listened vert
mttentively, in hopes of hearing more ; but the music being changed
into sobs and lamentation, they went in search of the unhaj^y perB<«
whose voice was no lesa excellent than his complaints were moumfuL
^ey had not gone far, when, turning the point of a rock, they ner-
ceived a man of the same stature and appearance that Sancho had
described Cardenio to them. The man expressed no surprise at the
sight of them, but stood still, inclining his head upon his breast, in a
pensiveposture, without affam raising his eyes from the ground. The
priest, who was a well-spoken man, being ^ready acquainted with his
misfortune, went up to him, and in few hut very impressive words
entreated bin to forsake that miserable kind of life, and not hazard so
great a misfortune as to lose it in that inhospitable place. Gardenia
was then perfectly tranquil, and free from those outri^eons fits with
which he was so often seiied j helikewiscappearedtobe sensible that
the persons who now acoostcd him were unlike the inhabitants of those
monotains ; he was still more surprised to bear them speak of his
concerns, and he replied, " It ia very evident to me, gentlemen, who-
ever jou are, that Hcavi^, which sacooors the good, and often even
the wicked, unworthy as lam, sends to me in this solitude, so remote
from the commerce of human kind, petsons who, representing to me
by various and foroiHe arenmenta how irrational is my mode of life,
endeavour to divert me m>m it ; but not knowing as I do that by
flying from this misery I shall be plunged into worse, they doubtless
take me for a fool or madman ; and no wonder, for I am myself aware
" ' o intense and so overwhelmbg is the sense of my misery, 7

1 know this to be tme, by the traces 1 leave of my frenzy ; bnt I can
only lament in vain, curse my fortune, and seek an excuse for my
extravagance by imparting the cause to all who will listen to me,
sbce none who are acquainted with my situation could &il to pardon
my conduct and compassionate my sufferings. And, gentlemen, if
JOU come with the same intentínn that others have done, before you
proceed any farther in yonr prudent counsel, 1 beseech you to hrar

7 Kid story; for then you will probably spare yourselves the trouble
endeavouriiig to find consolation for an evS which bas no
remedy."

A.OOgIC

136 son QirizoTS.

The two Wends being desirous of hearing his own acconnt of him-

Belf, entreated liini to indulge tlietn, assuring him they would do

notning but what was agreeabie to him, eitlier in ihe way of remedy

or advice. The unhappy joung man b^an his melancholy story almost

in tlie same words in which lie had related it to Don Qukote and the

' some few days before, when, on account of Master Ehsabat

Quixote's zeal in defending the honour of knight-errantry,

vas abruptly suspended ; but Cardenio'a sane mtetral now

lini to conclude it quietly. On coming to the circumEtauce

'e-lelter which Don Temando found between the leaves of

of Anutdis de Gaul, ho said heremtmibered it perfectly well,

it wae as follows : —

"'Each day I discover in you qtialitiea which raise yon ia my
esteem ; and, therefore, if you woidd put it in niy power to dischatse
my obligations to you, without prejudice to my honour, you may
ea^Uy do it. I have a father ivho Knows you, and has an affeotioi '

, who will never force my inclinations, and «ill compU' with whal-
: you can justly desire, if you really liave that value for mo which
profess, and which I trust you have.

" Tilts letter made me resolve to demand Lucinda m marriage, as
I have already related, and was one of those which pleased Don
Fernando so much. It was this lelter, also, which marte him deter-
mine upon my ruin hefore tnv design could he effeoled. I told Don
Fernundo that Lucinda's fallier eipectcd that the proposal shouhl
come from mine, but that I durst notmcutionit toiiiin, lest he should
refuse his consent: nut that he wo» ignorant of Lucinda's exalted
merits, which might .ennoble any family of Spain, but because 1 had
uuderstood from nim that he was desirous I slioidd not marry until it
should be seen what Duke Bicardo mould do for me. In short, I told
Lim that I had not courage to speak to my father about it, being fnll
of vague apprclicnsloDS and sad forebodings. In reply (o all this
Don remando engaged to induce u ' '' ' ' ''

lather of Lucinda O ambitious Í

been dooe thee by a poor wretch who so frankly disclosed to thee the
secrets oF his heart f ^Therciuhad I offended thee? Have I not
ever sought the advancement of thy interest and honour t But why
da I complain— miserable wretch that I am ! For when the stars are
adverse, what b human power ! "VCho could have thought that Don
Fernando, noble and generous, obliged by my sertices, and secure of
success wherever his amorous inclinatious led him, should take such
cruel pains to deprive me of my single ewe-lamb! But no more of
lliesc unavailing reflections ; I will now resume the broken thread of
my sad story.

" Don Fernando, thinking my presence an obstacle to theeiccuticin
of his treacherous design, resolved to send mc to his elder brother for
money to pay for six horses which he bought, merely for a pretence
to get me out of the way, that he might the more conveaicntly
execute his diabolical pnriiosc. Could 1 foresee such treachenr
Co'ild I even suspect it 't Surely not : on the contrary, well satisned
with his purchase, I cheerfully consented to deput ímmetüatcly.

A.OOgIC

CAMKESIO's STOET. 137

■Riat n^t I had an interriew with Lucmda, and told herwhat had
been agreed npon between Don Fernanilo and myself, aasurin^ her
ot my hopes of a successful result. She, eqaally Huauapicinus of Don
Femando, desired me to return speedily, stnce she bcbeved the com-
pletion of our wishes waa only deferred nntil proposals should be
made to her father by mine. I know not whence it was, but aa ahe

Soke, her eyes filled with i^ais, and some sudden obstruction in her
roat prevented her articnlating another word. I was surprised at
her unuanal emotion, for we cenerally conyetsed together with plea-
suiB, nnailojed by tears, signs, jealousy, suipirion, or alarms — I-
expatiatinff npon my good fortune in possessing such a mistress ; and
she, kindly commending in me what she thouglit worthy of commen-
dation. We amused each Other also by the little coocems of onr
aeighbours and acquaintance; and my presumption never extended
farther than to seiz^ by foree, oneofher snowy nands, and press it to
my lips as well as trie narrowness of the iron gate between lis would
permit. But the night precedin" the dolcftd day of mv departure,
she wept, sighed, and abruptly withdrew, leavine- me full of sarpriaa
and trepidation at witnessing surh uneommon indications of grief and
tenderness in my Imoinda. Still I cherished my hopes, and ascribed
all to tbe CTcess of her tenderness for me, and the sorrow natural in
bvers npon sroaration. I set out npon my journey sad and pensiye,
my sonl fnll ot gloomy thoughts and fears — manifesC presages of the
sad fete in store for me.

"1 executed my commission to Don iemando's brother, by whom
1 was well received, bat not soon dismissed ; for, to ray ¿ricf, he
ordered me to wait eigtit da^s, and to keep out ot his father's sirfit ;
becansc his brother had desired that a certjiin sum of money might be
Bent to him witliout the duke's knowledge, All this _was a contri-
vance of the fflise Fernando ; and I felt disposed to resist the injunc-
tion, as it seemed to me impossible to support lite so many days
absent from Lncinda, especially havinff left her in such a state of
dejertion. Nevertheless, I did obey, like a good serrant, although at
the cipenseof my health. But four days after my arriTal a man came
in quest of me with a letter, which by the superscription I knew to
be from Locinda. I opened it with ahirm, convinced it must be
KnnethiBg entraordjnary tliat had induced her to write. Before I
read it, 1 made some inquiries of the messenger. He told me that
passing accidentally through a street in the town, a very beautiful
lady, with tears in her eyes, called to him from a window, and awd to

him, in mat a^tation, iViend, if ^ou
for the love of Heaven, to carry this le

a Christian, I beg of jon.

lerchief out of the window; which contaiiieif a himdred reals, huu
this gold ring, with tbe letter I have given you. She saw me take np
the letter and the handkerehief. and assure her by signs that I would
do what tbe commanded, and she then quitted the wmdow. Finding
myself so well paid for the trouble, and knowing by the euprrscrip-
tinnit was for you, sir; mduoed moreover by the tears of that beau-
tiful lady, I resolved to trust no other person, hnt deliver it with my
■own hands : and within sisteen hours I have performed the jtmmey,
vhioh yon know is eígliteen leagnes.' While tbe gtatefol messenger
A.OOgIC

1S8 sou quixoiB.

thiu spoke, I bnng upon hia vonib, in; le^ trembliss ^ that I could

Karcelj' st&ud. At lengtli X opened the letter, wliich contained these

" 'The promÍEC Dou Femando save jron to intercede irilh tout
father, he uas fuhilled, more for his own gratiScutiun thui vour
interest. Euow, sir, tliat lie haa demanded n^e Id wife : and my
father, idlured by tie advantage lie thinks Don Femando possesses ■
over TOii, has accepted this proposal so easerly that the niamage is to
be solBDUuzed tn'o days hence, and with so much privacy; that, except
Heaven, h few of our own faoiiiy are alone to witness it. Conceive

«situation! and tlunk. whether you ought not to leturn. IViiclhcr
ove you or not, the cvcot wul prove. Heaven eraut tbis may
oome to )rour hand before mine be compelled to join his who breaks
his pionuscd faith I ' _

''■i «et out inunediately^ without waiting for any other answer, or
the money; for now I plainly saw it was not the purchase of horses,
but the ^ulgcnce of his pleasure, that had induced Don Fernando
to send mo to hia brother. My rage gainst Don Feroaudo, and the
fear of losing the rich reward of my long service and alTection, gave
wings to my speed: and the next day I reached our town, at (he
moment favourable for an inter^'¡ew with Lucmda. 1 went privately,
havii^ left my mule with the honest nan who brouglit me the letter :
and fortune was just then so uropitioos that I found Lucinda at the
grata, the constüit witness of our loves. We saw each other— but
bow ! Wbo is there in the world that can boast of having fatliomcd,
and thoroughly penetrated the intricate and evcr-ch^gmg nature of
a woman P Certainly noiie. As soon as Luciiida saw nie she said;
'Cárdenlo, I am in my bridal habit ; they are now waiting for me ill
the ball; the treachi;rous Doa Fernando and my oovetou» father,
■with some others, who shall sooner be witnesses of my death than oi
my nuptials. Be not afflicted, my friend ; but endeavour to be present
at tills sacrifice, which, if my oriruments cannot avert, 1 carry a
dagger about me, which con oppose a mure eflcctiuil resistance^ by
putting on end to my hfe, and will give you a convincing proof of the
affection 1 hare ever home you.' I answered with confusion and
jaccipitation : 'I>et you actions, madam, prove the truth of your

words. If you carry a dagger to secure your honour, I carry a
sword to defend you, or kill myself, if fortune proves adverse.' I do
not believe she neard all I said, being hastily called away : for the

bridegroom waited for her. Ücre the night of my sorrow clc«ed in
upon me ! here set the sun of my happiness ! My eyes were clouded
in darkness, and my brain was disoraered, I was úresolatc uhcttier
to enter her bouse, and seemed bereaved of the power to move ^ but
reeollectiag how important my presence might be on that occasion, I
exerted myself, and hastened thither. Being perfectly acquainted
with all tlie avenues, and the whole househuld engaged, I escaped
observation, and concealed myself in tlie reee^ of a window in the
hall, behmd the hangings, where two pieces of tapestry met ; whenoo
I could see all that passed. Who can describe the Uutleriu^ of my
heart, and my various seusatious, as I stood there F The bridegroom
ent«red the boll, in his usual dress, accompanied by a cousin of
Lucinda, and no otlier person was present, excejit the servants oS the
bouse Soon after, from a dressing-room, came forth Lueindl^
«ooompanied by her mother and two of her own maids, adorned iu ibfi

CAIt]>E>no'B STORT. IS9

eifrcme of courtly splendonr. The atrcuy and distraelion I endared
■Uowcd nie not to nbserve tlie particulara of lier dri-ss ; I remarked
only tho colours, «hícli vrcro camatioQ and while, aiid ihc pivcioii*
stones tliut gliltfted on every jart of her «ttiro : surpaswd, houcvcr,
b? the sinsular beauty of her fair and j^lden tresses, m tl<c splendour
of which tlie brilliance of heriewels and tlie blaic of tlie suiruundii.^'
lights secntcd to be lost. 0 memory, tbon mortid enemy of my
repose ! wherefore now recall to me tbc incomparable beanty of that
adored enemy of mine ! Were it not better, tliou cruel faculty ! to
represent to my imiigiiiation her conduct at that period — that, moved
by so flagrant an injury, I may strive, if not to avenije it, at least to end
this life of jinin? Se not weary, gentlemen, of liieae digrcasiuiis ; for
my misfortunes are not soch aa can be related briefly and methodi-
cally, Mnce eveiy circumstance appears to me of importance." The
firiest assured him that, far bom bein;:; tired of listening to him, they
ook (treat pleasure in bis minutest details, which merited no less
attention tbau the principal parts of his stor;.

"I say then," continued Cardcnio, "that, being all assembled in
the hall, the priest entered, and, hating taken them both by the hand,
in order to perform what is necessary on such occasions, when be
came to these words, ' Will you. signora Lucinda, take signer Don
Fernando, who is here preaent, for your lawful husband, aa our hok
mother tfie Church commands ?' I thrust ant my head and nect
through the tapestry, and with attentive ears and distracted soul
awaited Lucinda's reply, as the sentence of my death, or the conflr-
nation of my lire. O I that I had then dared to venture forth, and to
bBTc cried aJoud— 'Ah, Lucinda, Lucinda! beware what you do:
consider what you owe to me ! Remember that yon are mme, ana
cannot belong to another. Be assured tliat in prononncing Yes, you
will instantly destroy me !— Ah, traitor Don íernando ! raTisher of
my glory, death of my life I what is it thou wouldst have P to what
iost thou pretend F Reflect, that as a Christian thou canst not aocom-
plisb thv parpóse ; for Ludada b my wife, and I am her liosband.'
Ait, fool tnat I am ! now I am absent, I can say what I ou^t to haro
said, but did not ! Now, that 1 haTC sulTered myself to be robbed of
my soul's treasure, I tun cursing the thief, on whom I might hare
revenged myself if I had been then as prompt to act as I am now to
complain ! I was then a coward and a fool ; no wonder, ths^fort, tí
I DOW die ashamed, repentant, and mad.

"The priest stood expecting Lucinda's answer, who pansed for a
hoe timo- and when I thought she would draw forth the dagger in
defence of ner honour, or make some declaration which mi^ht redound
to my advantage, I heard her say in a low and funt voice, ' I will.'
Don Fernando said the same, and the ring being put on, they
remained tied in an indissoluble band. The bridegroom approacbed
to embrace his bride ; and she, laying her hand on lier heart, fainted
in tbe arms of her mother. Imagine my condition after that fatal
Ye^ by which ray hopes were frustrated, Lncinda's vows and promises
broken, and I for ever deprived of all chance of happiness. I was
totally confounded— 1 thought myself abandoned by heaven and earth j
*^~ -IT denying me breath for my sighs, and tbe water moisture for

UO SON qUIXOTB.

pKrotrndo ¡Dstnatly íeixtá, and read it hy one of tlie flambmni, itha
wbich, he iot liimself down in a cliair, apparentlf full of thought, and
witliout attending to the exertions made to recover his bride.

" During this general constcmnt ion, 1 departed, indifferent whether
I was seen or not; but determined, iFsecii, to art so desperate a part
that all the world should know thejnst indignation of my breast, by
tjie chostisemenl of the false Unn Feroiuido, and of the fickle, Ihoufcn
swooning traitress. But mj falp, to reserve me for (freater evils, if
greater can iiosaibty exist, ordained that at that juncture 1 had iho
use of mv understanding, which has since failed me ; and instead of
seiring tlie opportunity to revenue myself on my cruel enemies, I
condenined tnjself to a more severe fate than I could have iniiicled
on them ; for what is snddcn death, to a protracted life of anguish ?
In short, I quitted the house : and returning to the place where 1 had
left the mule, I mounted and rode out of tlie town, not daring, lika
another Lot, to look behind me ; and when 1 found myself alone on
the plain, concealed by the darkness of the night, the siienoe invitinir
my lamentations, I gave vent to a thousand eiecrations on Lucinda
and Don femnudo, as if that, alas ! would afford mc satisfaction for
thewrongs 1 had sustained. 1 called her cruel, false, and ungrateful;
and, above all, mercenary, since the wealth of my enemy had seduced
her afiections from me. But, amidst all these reproaches, I sought
to ñnd excuses for licr submission to parents whom she bad ever been
accustomed implicitly to obey ; especially as they offered her a hus-
band with such powerful attractions. Then, again, 1 considered that
she need not have been ashamed of avoiving lier en^a^ement to me,
since, had it not been for I>on Femando's propMals, her parents
could not have desired a more suitable connection ; and I tnought
' easily she could have declared herself mine when on the point oí

Íher hand to mv rival. In fine, I concluded that her love had
;ss than her ombition, and she had thus forgotten those promises
by whicli she liad beguiled her hopes and chcrislied my passion.

-'In the utmost perturbation ot mind,I jonmevcd on the rtstof the
night, and at daybreak reached these mountains, over which I
wandered three days more, without road or path, until I came to a
valley not far hence ; and inquiring of some shepherds for the most
rude and solitarv part^ Ihcy directed mc to iliis pkce, where I
instantly came, aetermined to pass here the remainder of my life.
Among these crags^ my mule fell down dead through weariness md
buneer, or, what la more probable, to be relieved of so useless a
burden ; and thus was I left, citonded on the ground, famished and
eihausted, neither hoping nor caring for relief. How long I con-
tinued in this state, 1 know not : but at length I got op, without the
sensation of hunger, and found near me some goatherds, who had
undoubtedly relieied my wants. They told me of the condition ¡n
which they found me, and of many wild and extravagant things that
I had uttered, clearly proving the derangement of my intellect ; and
I am conscious that since then I have not been always quite right,
but have committed a thoosand extravagances, tearing my garments,
howling aloud through these Kilitudes, cursing my fortune, and
repealing in vain the name of ihy beloved. When my senses return,
1 ¡ind myaelf so weary and hruued, that I can scarcely move. My
usual abode is in the nollow of a cork-tree, large enough to enclose
this wretched body. The goatherd* charitably supply me with food,

laying it OB the rocks, and in places where they think I may find it ;
and even when my senses are disurdered, neoeasitv jmínls out my
sustenance. At other tiniea, as tliey have inforniea nie in my lucid
intervals, 1 come Lnio the road, and take from the eliepherds by force
those proyisions which they would freely giye me. Tbus 1 pass my
" ■ ■■ ' " ' " ' bring " "-

,, J mando: otherwisG. Hpnven I

. .. ! for 1 feel no power U „ , - -

" This, geutlemen, is my melancholy tale. Trouble not yourselrea,
I beseech you, to counsel or persuade me ; for it will be of no more
aTÜt than to presoribc medicines to the patient who rejects ihem. I
will have no health witliout Lucinila; and since she lias pluuied to
give facrEcli to another whea aho was or ou^ht to have bt^n miae, let
me have the pkasm^ of indulging myself in unhappiness, since I miifht
have been happy if 1 had pleased. She, by her mulahihty, vould
have irretrievably undone me; I. by eudeavouriog to destroy myself,
would sntisiy her will, and I snail stand an example to posterity
of havin»; been the only unfortunate person whom the possibility
of receiving coi^soktion could not comfort, but plunged in still greater
afflictions and misfortuuea ; for I verily beheve they will not nave an
esd even in death itself."

Here Cardenio icrminatcd the long recital of his story, no less full

of miafortnnes than of love ; and just as the priest was preparinif to

. say something to bim, by way of consolation, tte was prevented by a

hich m mournful accents said what will be related ir "'—

. . )0ol * " ' '
hiftorianC

UignieUb, Google

BOOK IV.

CHAPTEH iXVIII.

How happT and fininnale vas that a^ in which tlie laoet darins
knight Don Quixote de la Klancha was usiiered into the world ! bídqc
in conseqoence of hia honourable resolution to revive the inag-
uegitccted and almost extin^j.shcd order of kni^ht-erruitry, we are
regaled in these our times, so barren of eutertojoment, not oulj hj
his own dcli^tfui Jiistor)', but also by the tolea and episodes oon-
tained in it, which arc ecarcel; leaa a^e«able, ingenious, and true
than the nairatioQ itself; thetnreadol whicli, being already oardo^
twisted, and reeled, may now be resumed.

As narmted in the laaC cbaptes, the priest was prepariag to «v
something consolatory to Cardenio, when ha was prereuied by a voice
uttering these noanmil accents : —

" O heavens ! have I then at last found aplace which mav alToid s
secret grave for this wretched body ? Yes — if the silence of ibis rocty
desert deceive me not, here I may die in peace. Ah, woe, ia me!
Here at least 1 mavfreely pour forth my kmenlalions to Hciiven,Bnd
shall be lesa wretcned than among men, from ntiou I should in vitío
seek coanscl, redress, or oonsolation."

These words being distinctly heard by the curate and his com-
panions, they rose up to seek the mourner, who they knew by the
voice to be near them: and they had not ^ne many paces when tliey
espied a yonlh dressed like a peasant BÍI'' '' ^ ^ ' ''

foot ofarock. Ihey could not at liratBi
to bathe his feet in a rivulet which i
silently that he did not hear then) ; t
employed they stood in admiration at tb
feet, which looked like pure crystal aou
and did not seem formed for breaking c
as might hare been expected from tlie
curate, who went forcmOBt, made a sign
and oonceai themsclrcs behind some fni(
migbt watch his motions. He was cli
gnraed closely round his body withapieoi
gaiters, and his cap, were a^l of the san
BOW pulled up, cxiKSed hia legs, whieli i
After bathinf his lovely feet be wipet

UiBnieUbyGOOl^lC

DisconaY ov locinda. 113

trUch he drew from nsder hb cap; and in doin^ this he displayed a
bee of such exquisite beautj, that Cardenio aaid to the pnest, in s
low Toice, " Since it is not Lnciuda, this can be no hnman creature."
The ToutD then took off hia cap, and shaking his head, a profusion of
hair, that Apollo himself might envy, fell orer his shouldcra — and
betrayed the woman, and the most beautiful one that two of the party
had ever beheld. Cardenio declared that Luanda alone could be
compared to her. Her lun^ and iplden tresses covered not only her
ahouldera but nearly her whole body ; and her snowy fingers served
her for a oomb. Her beautv made the three spectators impatient to
And out who she was, and tney mnr determined to accost her. The
lovely maiden looked up on bearing tbem approach, and with both
her bands pottine her hair from before her eyes, she saw the intruders ;

X)n whicn she hastily rose, and snatched up a bundle, apparently of
thes, which laid near her, and without staying to put on her shoes
or bina up her hair, she fled with precipitation and idarm; but had
scarcely gone six paces when, her tender feet bang unable to bear
the sharp gt^mes, she fell t« the gronnd. The priest now addressed
himself V) her i " Do not if, madam, I entreat yon ; for we only
desire to serre you ; indeed there is no reason why yon sbonld
attempt so inconvenient a flight." Surprised and confounded, she

ddu- miwam, or, if you please, dear sir, that yoo will aismiss evwy
tdarra on oar aocomit, and give us an opportunity of rendering you

iriest thus addressed her. the diagnised maiden stood
like one stupiSed, her eyes fixed on them, withont answering one
Word— like a eoantry clown when be is suddenly sur^xised by, some
new sight. At length, after the priest had said more to the same
purpose, s^e heaved a deep sigh, and breakins silence, said : " Since
even titese retired mountains have &iled to conceal me, and my hair
has betrayed me, I can no loni^r attemptto disguise myself. Indenl,
genllemen, 1 feet very grateful for yonr kind aSan to serve me^ but
such is my unfortunate aituatioa that eonmiiscratioQ is oU 1 can
expect; nevertheless, that I ma<r not suffer in your opinion from the
stnini^ circnmsfances under which yon have discovered me, 1 wilt
tell von the canse without reserve, whatever pam it may givs me."
She spoke with so much grace, and in so sweet a voice, that they were
still more charmed with her, and repeated their kind offers and solici-
tations for her confideiwe. Having first modestly put oa her shoes
and stockinsis, and inthered np her hair, she seated herself upon a flat
stone, her three auditors placing thenúelvee eionnd lier; and alW
some efforts to testroin lier tears, ane b^on her story in this
manner: —

" There is a town in the province of Andaloaia, from which a duke
takes his title, that makes him a grandee of Spain. This duke has
two sons ; the elder, heir to his estate, and npiñrently to his virtues ;
theyounger, heir to 1 know not what, unless it he to the treachery
of Vellido and the deceitfubess of QaUlon. Mv parents am vassals
to this nobleman, and are very ricli, tbo>Dgfa of hmnble birth, other-

r , A.OO'^IC

Ué DDK QUIXOTB.

TLse I should DOt be in tliis wretclicd itai* ; fur tlieir wmt of rank is
probi^ly the cauue of all my uusfurtunes. Not, indeed, ttui>t there is
ajijtiiius di^raceful in the oondiuon of my faimlv-~tltey are fai-nier^
simple. Ti ooest people, ttndeuch as are cüllud old nutv Christ ia'os,'*
of tLal class which liy their wealth aiid handwise way of Hviug are ttj
deeieea acquinng the name of ^ntlemen.

But what ihey prized above raiik or riche« was their d«Qght«r,
lole Leire^ of then lortuue, and I vas alwafs treated br them with,
the utmost indulgence and allyctJun. I waa the hght of thnr evee,
the staff of their old fig^ and, uniier heaven, theioleobject ofallllieir
hopes. And, as I was mistress of their affectkina, so was I of all t hef
po&sessed. To me they intrusted the juanageineot of the household :
through my hands passed the accounts of all tliat was sown and
teanca : the oit-uulls, the wjoe-presses, the Dumerous herd», flocks,
and iJie bee-hives— everythioK, in short, waa intiusted to my onre. 1
was bolJi steward and miatreas, and alwajn pofonued my duties to
their satisfaction. The leistue hours that remained I passed in
«ewing, spinuing, or making lace, and soRtetimes in reading good
books, or, if my spirits required the reKet of musii^ I had rcooorae
to my gitt«m. Such was tlie life I led ia my father's bouse : and I
Lave not been so pajlicular in desctibine it out of oetoitation, hat
that you may know bow undcsertedlyl have been cast from that
happy state into my present misery. Thus 1 passed mj time, con-
stuitly occupied and i» retirement, seen ozily, as I iinaigined, by our
owu ser\'auts ; 6at when I weut lo mass it was early in the morning,
accompanied by my molhor, and so closely veiled that my eyes saw
no more grouna than the space wliich my foot covered. Yet the eyes
of love, or ratbu of idleness, which are like those of a lynx, disco-
vered me. Don Fernando, the younger son of the duke, whom I
mentioned to vou"— she had no sooner named Boa Femando, than
Cardenio's colour changed, and be was so violentlv agitated that the
priest and the barhor «ere afraid that he wonld be seiwd with one
of those paroxysms of frenty to which he was sulQcct. But he
reraaiued quiet, fijjng his eyes attentirely on the cooi^ry-maid, weU
coiíjecturíñK wlio ^e was ; while she, not observmg the emotions of
Cardenio. o(mtinued her story, sayict; : " No soona: had he seen me,
than (as be afterwards declared) he cunceived for me a Ticdent amo-
tion—but, to shorten the account of my misfortuiies, I pass over in
süeace the devices Don Fernando employed to nuke his passioB known
to me. He bribed all our servants ; he offered pKsents to my rela-
tions ; every day was a festival in our streets ; and at night nobody
could sleep for serenades. In&nite were tbe billets-donx that cam&
I knew not how, to my hands, filled with amorous deolarations ma
eipiessions of kindness, containing more promises and oatha than
letters. Ail these efforts I resisted : not that the gallantry and soli-
citations of Bod remando vox displeasing to me ; for I oonfess that
I felt flattered and gratified by the attentions of a gentleman of his
high rank ; besides, women are always pleased to he admired. How-
ever, I was supported by a sense of virtue, and the good advice of
n y parents, who told me that they relied oa my virtue and prudence,
tni at the same time begged me to cousidec the inequality between

njuAl and Don Fenumdo, and to suspect, wbatever he imgbt say to
the contrwy, that it was liU own plcnsare, not my happiness, Ihitt he
bad ia new-, and if I would consent to nase a bnmer a^*n3t his
uatrorth]' projects, the; would enza^ immediately to find a suitable
match for me. Thus cautioned, 1 maintained the utmost reseire
towards Don Jieroando, and never ¡tavc him the least cncourajemeut
citjier by louk or word; but my bKhaviour only iucreased his brutal

Cion— kire I cannot call it ; for had hu truly loved me, you would
I been spared this sad tale.

" Don J'eniando, having discovered my parents' intentions for my
secority, was determined 1o defeat them ; and one night, as I was in my
chamber, the door fast looted, and only my maid present, he suddenlr
stood before me. TerriBed at his unespected appearanee, I was
deprived of the power of utterance, and, all my strength failing me, he
cnui^ht me in his arms, 'ilie traitor then pleaded by si;^ and tears.
Bad with such an appearanoe of tnitl], that I, ajXMr simple ci'eature,
without experioneo, be((antogivesomecradittohim thonshlwasftr
from beina moved to any orirainal compassion. When I was auffl.
ciently recovered to speak, I exerted myself, and said to him: 'If
my life depended on trie sacrifice of my hononr, 1 would not preservo
it OD soeh teims ' and though within your grasp, you have no power
oier mj mind ; I am joar vassal — not your slave. Tour rank does
not give you the privilege to insult me, who have an equal claim
to self-respect witli yonrself. I despise your riohes, and distrust your
word»; neither am X to he moved oyyonr sighs and tears. Had I
been thus solicited by one who faaid obtained the sanction of my
parenta, and honourably demanded my hand. I might hare listened to
propa«als~but to no others than those of a lawful husband.'

If that be all, beautiful Dorothea 1 ' said the treacherous man,
' here 1 pledge to you my band ; and let ail-seeing Heaven and thai
im^Ot our Jjady witness the i^reemant !'"

When Cardeaia beard her call herself Dorothea, he was confirmed
JB bis eonjecture; but he would not interrupt the story, being desirous
to hMC tbe event of what ¡apart he knew airead v; and he only said:
" What, madam ! is your name Dorothea? I hare heard of one of
tbat name wboaa misfortunes much resemble yours. But proceed ;
lao&er We I niay tell you things that will equaUy eicite vour won-
der Bod OOmpassioQ." Dorothea, strnck byOardemo's woros, and his
Btnmge and tattered dress, entreated him, if he knew anything of her
affiura, to tell her without delay : for fortune had still left her courage
to bear any disaster that might oefal her, being certain that nothii^
oould inSRaae hor misery. 1 should be sorry to say anything that
wonbl do so, madam," replied Cardenio ; " nor is it necessary for me
to speak at present."

Dorothea proceeded i— " Don Fernando (hen took np the holy ¡maso
and c^led iQHtn it to witness onr espousals : nledifitig himself by the
most solemn low», to become my hnsbsna, notwithstanding my
I'liliMitiin that be would eonsidor the displeasure of his family, and
otileT düadraali^es that mieht result from so unennal on union. All
tbat I nrged was of no avail, since it cost him nothing to make pro-
misee which lie never meant to perform. Bcini; in some degi'ee
moved, by his perseverance, I began to consider that I should not be
t^ first of lowly Irirth who Iwd been elevated by her beauty to rank:
and that snoh good fortuita should aot ho lightly rejected. I reDccted

^ r , . ■ A.OO'^iC

140 ]X>N qiTIXOTE.

also that my repntalion would iDfalUbly snlTer by this visit, in spite of
my innocence ; and alas ! above all I was moved by his insioutitinf;
mamiera and tender pi'otcstations, vhich might well buve softened a
harder heart than mine. I called my maid to bear testimony to his
plighted failli— again he repeated the most solemn vows, atlesting
new saints to hear them, ana thus be Gsaily succeeded in becoming a
periured traitor.

On the morning that followed that fatal nif(ht, Don Fernando
quitted me ^cithout reluctance: he assured me indeed of bis tnith
andhonour,hüt not with the warmth and vehemence of the preccdins
night ; and at parting he drew a valuable ring from hia Imger, and
put it upon mme. Whatever hia sensatious might have been, I
remained confused and almoat distracted. I knew not whether ^ood
or harm hod befallen me, and was uacertain whether I should chide
my maid for her treachery in admitting Donremando to my chamber.
Thai perfidious man visited me but once more, although access was
free to bim, as I had become hia wife. Monihs passed away, and in
vain 1 watched for his coming ; yet he waa in tlic town, and everr ■da.J
amusing himself with banting. What melancholy days and hours
were those to rae ; for I began to doubt his fidelity. Then my damsel
heard those reproob for her presumption which she had before
escaped. 1 long strove to hide my tears, and so to guard my looks
that my parents might not see and inquire into the cause of mv
wretchedness ; but suddenly my forbearance was at an end, with all
regard to delicacy and fame, upon the intelligence reaching me that
I}on Fernando was married, in a neighbouring tüId^, to a beautiful
TOung iadj, of some rank and fortune, named Lucinda."— Cárdenlo
heard the name of Lucinda, at first, only with signs of indignation,
but soon after a flood of tears burst from his eyes. Dorothea, how-
ever, pursued her story, saying ; " When this sad news reached my
ears, my heart, instead of being chilled by it, waa so incensed ana
iraSiunea with ra^, that I comd scarcely forbear rushing into the
streets and proclaiming the baseness and treachery I had experienced.
But 1 became more tranqml after forming a pnúeot, which I executed
the same night. I borrowed this apjiarel ofa shepherd swain in my
father's service, whom I intrusted with my secret, and bc^ed him to
attend me in my pursuit of Bon Fernando. He assured me it waa a
rash undertaking; but finding me resolute, he said he would go with
nie to the end of the world. Immediately I packed up some of my
own clothes, with money and jewels, and at night sccretlv left the
bouse, attended only by my servant and a thousand anuous thoughts ;
and travelled on foot to the town where I expected to find my
husband ; impalientto arrive, if not in time to prevent hia perfidy,
to reproach him for it.

"1 in^juired where the parents of Lucinda lived; and the first
person to whom I addressed myself told me more than I desired to
hesi. Ho directed me to the house and gave me an account of all
that had happened at the young lady's marriage. He tohl me also
that on the night Don Fernando waa married to Lucinda, after eh»
had pronounced the fatal Yea, she feL into a swoon ; and the bride>
groom in unclasping her bosom to ffive her air, fonnd a paper written
by herself, in which she affirmed that she could not be wife to Don
Fernando oecanse she was already betrothed to Csrdetdo (who, as ths
man told me. was a frentlemau ÚE tho mme town], and tlut she bad

Dorothea's stout. Ii7

pronounced her assent to Don Fcraimdo merely in obedience to her
parents. The paper also revealed her intention to kill herself as sooa
as the cereraouT was over, which wns confirmed by a poniard they
found concealed npon bcr. Don Fernaudo was so enraged to Hud
himself ibus mocked and sliflitcd, tliat lie seized hold of the sniiie
poniard, and would ceitnicly nave stabbed her, bad he not been )ire-
vented by those present; whereu;)on he immediately quitted Ibe
pUee, When Lucinda revived, she confessed to her parents the
enrajemcnt she had formed wjt)i C.irdenio, who. it vfas suspected,
bad witnessed the ceremony, and hnd hastened from the city

"All this was publicly knowTi, and the (tenend subject of cc

tíon : especially when it appeared that Liiciud:L also was missing fro^n
her fallier's house— a circiimsfanee that overwliclmed her family w:th

grief, but revived my hopes ; for I flattered niyself that Heaven had
lus interposed to prevent the completion of Don Feraando's sf^cond
marriage, in order to touch his conscience and to restore bim to a
sense of duty and honour. These illusive hopes enabled me to endure
■ life which IS now become insupportable to mc.

" In this situation, undecided what course to take, I heard mysclí
proclaimed by the public crier, offering a great reward for discovering
me, and desoribins my person and dress. It was also reported that I
had eloped from my father's house with the lad that attended me. I
was stung to the soul to find how very low I had fallen in publio
opinion ; and, ni^«d by the fear of discovery, I instantly left the cit^,
and ¡X night took refuge among these mountains. But it is truh* said
one evil produces another, and misfortones never come singly ; for my
servan^ nitherto so faithful, took advantage of t])b sohtary place,
and, dismissing all regard either to God or bis mistresi began to
niake love to rae ; and, on my answering him as he deserved, he would
have used force, but merciful Heaven favoured me, and_ endued me
with strength to posh him down ajiceeiiiice, where I left him, whether
dead or alive I know not, for, in spite ol terror and fatigue, 1 fled from
the spot with the utmost speei After this I engl^íed myself in tlie
•ervice of a shepherd, and nave Hved for some months among these
wilds, always endeavouring to be abroad, lest I shnnld betraj myself.
Yet idl my care was to no purpose, for my master at length discovered
that I was not a man, and the same enl thonghts soraug up in his
breast that had possessed my servant. Lest I might not find the
same means at himd to free myself from violence, I sought for secu-
rity in flipht, and have endeavoured to hide myself amongst these
rocks. Here, with incessant sighs and tears, I implore Heave

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTEK XXIX.

" Tflis, gentlemen," added Dorothea, " is m^ tr^ciú story ; think
whether the si^hs and tears which yoa liftve «itncss«d have not Wa
morethui juBtiiie± MTmiffortoneSjUjOQwill confesR, are incapable
of aremcdf; and all I desho of xou is to advise me how 1o lire without
the continual dread of beiog discorered : for allliou^ 1 ani oeiiain of
& kind recoptioa from my parents, to overwhelmed am I with shame,
that I ohooae rather to baniah mjielf for ef er from llieir siElfat tfaw
appeal before them the object of sneli hateful snapicions."

Here she wai silent, «hile her blushes and oonfusion sufficieBtly
manifested the shame and azon; of her soul. Ker aaditore wen
much affected by her tale, and the curate was just goin<; to addreaa
bar, when Caidenio inlemipted him, saying ; " Yon, madam, ilien,
aro the beantiínl Dorothea, only daugbler of the rich Clenardo f "
Dorothea st«Rd at lieariiur her father named by such a miserable*
looking object, aod she asked him who he was, since he knew her
father. " I an that hapless CuiJonio," he replied, " who anffns from
the biae author of your misfortimes, reduced, as yoa now behold, t«
naitedneas and misery — deprived erea of reason ! Yes, Dorothea, I
heard that fatal jea jironounoed by Lucinda, and, nnable to bear ni]>
Mn^uish, I ñtá precipitately from her house. Amidst t^ese mrnin-

I ihonght to iiave terminated ra^ wretched eiistenoe ; but the

account you nave just given lias in^ired me with hope ttiat ileaven
mav still have happiness in atore for ua. Lucinda haa avowed herself
to lie mine, and thercfoie oaimat wed aootiier ; Don Fernando, being

Ei, cannot have Lucinda. Let us then, my deu lady, indolfrc the
that we may both yet recover oar own, since it is not absolutely
Indeed, I swear to you that, although I leave it to Heaven to
avenge my own iigurtes, your claims will 1 assert ; ix»' will I leave
you until I have obliged Don Fernando, either by argamcnt or my
sword, to do yon justice,"

Dorothea would have thrown herself at the feet of Cordenio, to
express her gratitude to him, bad he not prevented her. The lieen-
tiate too oommcnded his generous determination, and entreated theni
both to Qocompany him to his village, where they miglit oonsull on
the most proper measures to be adopted in the present state of their
alFairs ; a proposal to which they tbanlifolly Hcceded. The barber,
who had hitherto been silent, iicrw joined in eiprewing his good
wishes to them ; he also briefly related the circumstanoea which had
bron^t them to tliat place ; and when he mentioned the extraordi-
narv maioity of Don Qnixote, Cardenio had an indistinct recollection
of having had some altercation with the knight, but could not
mber whence it amac

They were now intermpted by the volceof Sandra Faom, who, not
finding them where hr ' ' — ' '" "" '' " -■ - ■

mtemipted by tbe voice of Sanara raom, who, not

-„ __ . — -■e he left them, began to call out loudly : tliey «"ent

.nstantly to meet him, and were eocer in their mqiiines after Don
Qtiiiote. He told them that be had found him naked to his shirt,

A.OOgIC

SOBOTnEl. AS A. DISTBESSBD FBIKCEE9. liA

feeble, wait, and balf-desd with hunger, sishing for his lady Dolánea ;
and thoush he had informed him t hat it was her expresa deure that
he should leave that place, and reiair lo Toboso, where she expected
liim, his aiuwer was that he positively would not appejtr before her
beauty until he had perfonned exploits that m^bt render him worthy
of her favour j if his master, he oddud, persisted iu that humour, he
would niu a nsk of never becoming an emperor, as b honour bound ;
Dor even an trdibiabop, which was the least he eould be ; bo they
must consider what was to be done to (fet him away. The lieentiaM
1»«gged Ihm Bot giro hiiOBelf any nneaainess on that aooount, for tbey

upoB her, as she had read many wo^ of chirBlry, and ««, -vu
«equainted with the style in which distressed damsels were wont to
beg tlieir boons of kai^bte-erraot. " Let as then baeUn to p«t o«r
design into execution," exdaiDied the curate i " binee ñ^nne seerna
ta bvottT all our views." l>orotluia immediately took froia her bundle
«iKtdooat«fve[7 rich stufi^aada mantle of fine erom silk; andoatofa
e^ket a necklace and otlier jewels, with which ahe qnickly adorned
fcerwif, in suck a muincr that she had ell the appeamnce of a neb and
(oiile Udy. They were ohanned with ker beauty, graec,aBdeleganee¡
•nd agreed that Don Fernanda muat be a awn of little taate, sines
he oould slight so much exeeUeoce. Bat her f;ceate«t admirer waa
SADClKt Panea» who thotwht that in all his hie he had never seen so
beaaüfitl* creature; and he earnestly deaired ^ priest to tell htm
who thin beantifal Ma w«a, and wfaal she wai leokñg for in tt

partai' " This beautifii] íaÁj, frintd Sanoho," snawered the priest,

is, ta «ay tlte least of ker, heireas. in the direct male line, of the
gitat kiaxdora of Miooraiconj and she oomes in quest cf your masbr,

ÍA8pi«MÍowallGa¡nea, that has bmught this prineea* to seek him."
" Ñ ow, a happy aeekii^, and a happy onding ! " qnoth Sanelio f anea :
"especially It Biymasleria so fartanate as to redress that injur. Uid
i^hl ikti wron;, bv killing the rascaUv günt you mention ; 1001 kill
lum be certainlf will, if he taeouMten tiim, noless he be a goblin ; for
myinaelerhBsaopowcratalloTergoblina. Butooethbglmuatagaiii
itegot yonr wcnshia signar lieenti^Ue, aad tbrt is, to prevent mr master
An>ia Uking it mta hie head to be an arohbiabop^ aed advise bim to
marry th^lHÍBOeasont of hand t forthen, not bein^qnalified to receive
•tohiepiseopal orders, he wiU come with ease to his kingdom, and 1 to
theeodofeiy wiaheat forlhaveeonsideredlhenwtlfrivoli. and And by
mj acoMnt it will not soit me for ny master to be anaiehhishop, as I am
tiáfit^w-tihechareh^ being a married man; and forme to be now going
*bout lo procure dispensations for holiiing clwreh-lÍTÍng, having, as I
have, a wife and emidren, ««uid be an «sadless piece of work. So
thatk sir, the whole basmcas reste upon my inasler's marrving tlua
tad? «at of hand— not koowing her grace, 1 canitot call her by
name." " The Princess Mioomicon» is her naaie," said the pnest ;
"bxaa hex kjnsdom is juuncd Micomicon, of comse site must be
,, .A.OOgIC

ISO BO» (JtnxOTE.

called so." "To be sure," answered Sanelio : " for I have known
many lake their tille aiid surname from their birth.place, as Pedro de
Alcalá, John dc L beds, Dipiro de Valladolid ; and, for I au^ht I knoir,
it may be the Custom m Guinea for queens to take Üie names of Iheir
kÍD!rdoiD9." " It ia certainly sa" said the priest ; " and as to your
masier's mamine this princess, I will promote it to the utmost of my
power." WitL wiiich assurance Saaelio was no less satiificd than the
priest was amazed at his simplicitj in tbua entering into the eilra-
Tacant fancies of his master.

Dorothea bavinfr now mounted the priest's mule, and the barber
ÜItcd on the oi'tail beard, they desired Sancho to conduct them to
])on QBtKote, cautioning him not to say that he knew the licentiate
or the Durber, since on that de|>ended all his fortune. Neither the
priest DOT Cárdenlo would fm with them ; the latter, that he mijjht
Dot remind Don Quixote of toe dispute which he had had with bim ;
and the pnest, because his presence was not then necessary : so the
others, thercfori!, went on before, while they followed slowly on foot.
Tlie priest would have instructed Dorothea m her part; but she would
net trouble him, assoring him that she would perform it precisely
according to the rules and precepts of chiTalry.

Having proceeded about three-quarters of a league, they discovered
Don Quixote in a wild, rocky recess, at that time clothed, but not
armed, Dorothea now whipped on her palfrey, attended by the well-
bearded squire ; and having approached the knicht, the squire leaped
from his mule to assist his lady, who, lij^litly dismountin;^, went and
threw herself at Don Quixote's feet, where, m spile of his elTorta to
raise her, she remainetf kneelins, as she thus addressed him ; —

■' I will nerer arise from tliis place, Ü valorous and redoubled
knight, until your coodness and courtesy vouchsafe me a boon, which
will redound to the honour and plury of jour person, and to the
lasling benefit of the most disconsolate and aggrieved damsci the sun
has ever beheld. And if the valour of your puissant arm correspond with
the report of your immortal fame, you are oound to ¡irotect an unhappy
wight, who, attracted by the odour of your renown, is come from distant
regions to seek at your hands a remedy for her misfortunes."

" It is impossible for me to answer you, fair lade," said Don Quixote,
"whiie you remain in that posture." "I will not arise, sijraor,
answered the afflicted damsel, "until your courtesy shall vouchsafe
the boon 1 ask." " 1 do Toucbsafe and grant it to you," answered
Don Quixote, "provided mv compliance be of no dctnineiit to my
kin|r,iny eouutrj-, ur to her wao keeps the key of my heart and hbcrtj'."
" ll will not be to the prejudice of eitlier of these, dear sir," replied
the affiictcd d^imsel. gimcho. nov approaching his master, whispered
softly in his car, " Your woishiii may very safrly grant the boon she
asks ; for it is a mere iriSc— only to kill a great lubberly giant ; and
she who begs it is the mighty Princess Micoioiconia, queen of the greut
kinidom of Jlicomicon, in JJthiopia." " Whosoever the lady may
be," answered Don Quixote, " 1 shall act aa my dutv and my con-
science dictate, in conformity to the rules of my profession:" then
ndiircssmg himself to (he damsel, he said: "Fairest iady, arise; fori
■vouchsafe you whatever boon you ask." "My request then is." siiid
ilie damsel, "that jour magnanimity will go whither 1 shall coiiduet
you ■. and that you will promise not to engage in any other adveijlute
tmiil you have avenged me on a traitor who, against all right, huiuaii

UNCHO'S ssnEcnoNS. 151

■]idd¡TÍne.lifisDsiirpedinykm^oin." "Igrant yonr reqnest," an-
swered Dun Quixote 1 "and therefore, lady, dispel tliat mclancliolr
wLich oppresses jou, ond let joiir fainting hopes recover fresh life
and Hlreiigtb ; for, by the help of Heaven, and oiy powertui ann, you
shall soon be reetorcd to your kingdom, and seated on the throne of
your ancient and hiab estate, in despite of all the miscreants who
would oppose it ; ana therefore we will ins taatly proceed to aetion.
for tliere is alwap dflnyer in delay." The distressed damsel would
fain have kisaed his hands ; but Don Quixote, who was in every respect
a most (lallant and courteous knight, would by no means consent to
it, but, making her arise, embraced her with much politeness and
respect, and ordered Sancho to look after Rozinante's girths, and
ta assist him to ann. i^ancbo took down the amiour from a tree,
where it hung like a trophy ; and having got Kozinante readv, quickly
armed bis master, who then cried, " In Qod's name, let us basten to
succour this great ladv."

The barber was still upon his knees, and under much difficulty to
forbear laughing, and keep his beard from falling — an accident which
might liare occasioned the raiscarriage of their ingenious stiatagem ;
bat seeing that the boon was already granted, and that Don Quixote
prepared to fulfil hi» engaitement, he got up and took his lady by the
otlier hand; when thev oolh assisted to place her upon the mule, and
tlfu mounted themselves. Sancho alone remained on foot, which
renewed his grief for the losa of his Dapple : but be bore it cheer-
fully; reflecting tliat his master was now in the right road, and just
upon the point of becoming an emperor ¡ for he made no doubt but
that he was lo marry that princess, and be at least kin^ of Micom icon.
One thing only troubled him, which was tliat, bis kingdom being in
the land of negroes, liis subjects would all be blacks : hut presently
recoDectiug a special remedy, he said to himself: "What care I, íí
my subjects he blacks F— what have I to do but to ehip them off to
Spain, where I may sell them for ready money, with which money I
may bu/ some title or offiee, on which 1 may live at ease all the days
of my life? See whether I have not brains enough to managematteñ,
aud sell thirty or ten thousand slaves in the turn of a hand ! Before
Heaven, I will make then Qy, little and hie; and let them be ever so
black, I will turn them into wliitc and yellow boys ; let mc alone to
lick aiy own fingers." After tliese reflections, he went on in such
good spirits, that he forgot the fatigue of travelling on foot.

Caruenio and the priest^ concealed among the buslies, had observed
all that passed, and oeing now desiroua to join them, the priest, who
bnd a rúkdy invention, soon hit upon an expedient ; for witli a pair of
scissors, which he carried m a case, be quickly cut off Cardetiio's
beard ; then put on him a grey copoueh, and gave him bis own black
cloak (I'lii^elf remaining m bis breeches and doublet), which so
clian;:cd Cardenio's appi-arance, that hati he looked ii. a mirror he
would not have known himself. Althouüh tlieothcrshadin themean
time been proceeding onward, they easily gained the uigh-rond first,
because the narrow passes between the rocks were more difficult
to horse than to foot travellers. They waited in the phdn until
Pon Quixote and his party came up; whereupon the curate, after
gazmg for some time earnestly at him, at last imn towards him with

Xn arms, ejtclaimmg aloud : " ilaiipy is tliia rneeliog, 0 thou mirror of
fahy.myuüble coutttrymwi, Don Quixote delailanoba! thcflower

A.OOgIC

15* DOM qcuoTK.

■ud cream of cenlÜit^.—the protector of safferins mankini!. — tbo
quintesseQCC of kniglit-trrantiy I " Having tiiiu spdton, he embraCHl
Don Quixote by Oie knee of his left leg.

Theknigbt was BHrprised»t this address; but after attentírelysur-
vejiiig the features of the speaker, he recoscniaed him, and would imme-
diately have alighted ; but the pikst would not sufl'cr it. " Yoq must
permit me to alight, signor licentiate," answtrad Don Ouiiote: "lirt
It would bo very improper thnt 1 sliouJd r^nain □□ honipbadc whilo iO
reyerendapersonaayouwere traTfllinffonfoot." "Iwilibynt "

dismouating," replied the priest, " sinee on hwBebaek

Sau nave aciiieved tbe greatest eipkiits tliis Bite Iiaa witnessed. Ai
>c myself, an unworthy piieat, I shall be MtisÜtjd if one of these jien-
tlemcn of your company will allow mc to mount bebiud hliT} ; and I

sprightly ceursei befttrode by tbefamous Moor Muzarqne, who lies to
this day enchanted in the creat mountain Zulema, not (az distant from
tlie grand Compluto." • I did not think of that, dear ai^or licen-
tiate," said Deal Quixote ; "andlknow ber highness the princess wiH
for my sake order her squire to sf commodate you with the saddle of
his mule ; and he may nde behind, if tbe beast will carrj^ doable."
" I believe sbe will," answered the princesa ; " and 1 know it is nnn&-
cessary for me to lay my commands upon my squire ; for he is too
courteous and well-bred to suITer an ecclesiastic to ffo on foot, when
he man ride." " Most certainly," answered the barber ; and, ahchtingr
in an instant, he complimented tbe priest with the saddle, wliich he
accepted without much persuasion. £ut it unluckily happened that,
as the barber was getting apon the cropper, tbe animal, whidi was b
hackney, and conseciuentlyavicious jade, threw np her hind legs twice
or thrice into the air; anahad they met with Master Nicbolaa^ breast
or head, he would have wished his rambling after Don Quixote at the
devil, He v.Bs, however, thnrwn to the «round, and so suddenly, that
be forgot to take due care of his beard, which fell off; asdall he could
dowasto cover his face with both bands,andcr7out that bis jaw-bone
was broken. Don Quixote seeing such a mass of beard without jaws
and «ilhout blood, lying at a distance from tbe face of tbe fallen
squire, exclaimed : " Heavens ! what a miracle ! His beard has fallca
as clean from his face ai if he had been shaven I " 'ihe priest, seeing
the danger they were in of discovery, instantly seized the beard, and
ran to Master Nicholas, who was still oh the fnoutid mosning ; asá
going up cbse to him, with eme twitch replaced it, mattering over him
some words which he said were a speciüc eharm for fixing on boards,
as they should soon sec; and when it was adjusted, the squire remained
as well bearded and as whole as before. Don (¿uixote was amazed at
what he saw, and bejtged the priest to teach him that oharm ; for he
was of opinion that its virtue could not be confined to the refixing of
beards, because it was clear that where the beard was torn (M, tkc flesb
must be left wounded and bloody, and, since it wrought a perfect
cure, it must be valuable upon otliei occasions. The priest said (hat
his surmise was just, and promised to take tbe first opportunity of
teaching him the art. Tbey bow agi-eed that tbe priest should mount
Grst, and that all three should ride by turas until ih^ oaioe to tha
inn, which was distant about two Icagnes.

* A uidvonLty of Spnin, now callad Alcalá de Bxanam.

A.OOgIC

lUBUUI BC *HX PEIEST. 153

DoB Quixote, 0)0 princess, and the priest, being thus monnted,
■Hended bj Cúdeuio, the barber, and Sancho Panza on foot, Don
Quixote Skid to the damsel : " Your higbncsa will now be plenscd to
lead on, m wfaAt«f » direction you choose." Before she ooald T«nly,
the hoenttste útterposÍBft said: "Whither would your Ittd^liip ^r
To the kingdom of Mioomwon, I presume, or I am mnch miataten."
Bfae, bnog aware that sho was to answer in the tifitrniatÍTc, said :
" Yea, si)!iior that kingdom is indeed the place of my destinatian.''
"If so," said the priest, " we must pass throngh my native Tillage ;
aad thence von must )^ straight to Cartha^uEi, where you maj
anbork ; and, if you have a fair wind, a smooth sea, and do storms, in
■emewhat less than nine years you will ^et witkin riew of tbe Kicat
lake of Meona, 1 mean Meotis, which w not nwire than a hundred
days' joamey from yoor highnese's territories." " You arc mistiiken.
good sir," said she; " for it is not two years einoe I left H : ana
Mthoogh I ktd yeiY bad neatherdurinr the whole pas»ge, here I rid,
and 1 have beheld what so ardently 1 desired to see— Si^or Doa

Qnixole de la Manchr '■■ ' '— "- ' '^-^ '"'■-

tnoment 1 set foot ii

that I might appeal U. ,

to the ¥alont of his invinciblo ai , . ,,.„j,

Bihuns," said Don Quiiot.e ; " for I am an enemy to every species of
dstlerji a>d erea this if it be not luch, still are my chsete ears
o&ndedat this kindof diseourse. All that 1 can say, dear madam,
is that m» powers, such as ther are, shall be «aployed m yonr serrice,
even at tae forfeit of my life ; Vmt waving these matters for t!ie pro-
lent, I beg thu sigasr hcentiote to tell me whut has brought him into
tiicae parts, done, winttended, and so tightly apparelled." " I etm
•oonsalisfy your worship," answered the priest ; oar ñiend, Master
Nichohu, and 1 were going to Seville, to raoeive a legwiy left me bya
relation n ■lBdia,i«nd no incaníiiderable sum, being siity thousand
nowns ; and on oar road, ytsterday, we were attacked by fonr hi^
■way roboer», who stripped us of all we hod, to our very beards, and
in guch a manner that ibe barber thoHgbt it expedient to put on a
Use one ; and for tkis youth here (pointing ta Cardeino) yon see how
ther have treated him. It i» publidy reported here that those who
lobbed OS were galle^r'-daves. wt at liberty near this very pkce by a
man so valiant that in spite of the eoniaussary and hia guards he
teleased them ali ; but he certainly must have been ont of his senses,
or as great a. logne ai any of tbein, stnee bo could let loose wolves
amtm^ aheep, foxes amerw wmKry, and waspa among the honey ; for
he haa defrauded justice of bet due, and 'has set himself ap agniñst his
king and natural kird. by acting gainst his lawful anthority. He
has, I aay, disabled the gallevs of their bands, and disturbed the
many years' repose of the noly oretherhood ; in a word, he has done a
deed by which nis body may suffer, and Us sonl be for ever lost,"

Sancho bad communicated the adventure of -the gaUey-slaves, so
fftoriously achieved by his maeter: and the priest laid it on thus
heavily to see wha6 effect it would nave «pon Uoa Quiiote ; whoso
cotour changed at every word, and he dared not confess that he had
keen the ífeliverer of thoae worthy gentlemen. *"fhese." said the
priest, " were the persons that robbed us : and God of hia mercy par-
don him who prevented the punislunent they so richly deserved."

A.OOgIC

CHAPTER XXX.

LiCTTCHTNG in his sleeve, Sancho stúd.assoonas the priest had done
sjieakinR, " By my troth, BÍifnor licentiate, it was mv master who did
tnat feat ; not but that 1 gaTe him fair warDinp-, ana advised him to
mind what he was about, and that it was & sin to set tliem at liberty ;
fot that thev were all Boing to the palleys for beinp most notorious
villains," Blockhead!" said Don Quixote, " kníglits-errant are not
bound to inquirewhethert he afflicted, fettered, and oppressed whomlhey
meet upon tlie road, are brouffht to that situation by tTieir faults or their
misfortunes. It is their part to assist them tinder oppression, and to
resnird tlieir sufferings, not their crimes. I encountered a bead-roll
and string of miserable wretchea, and acted towards them as my pro-
fession rei]uired of me. As for the rest, I care not; and wboeier
takes it amiss, saving the holy dignity of signor the licentiate, and his
reverend person, I say he knows butlittleof the princijiles of chivalry,
and Ees in his throat ; and this I will maintain with the edje of my
Bword!" So saying, he fixed himself firmly in his stirrups and
lowered his viior ; for Mambrino's helmet, as he called it, hung use-
less at his saddle-bow, nntil it eould be repaired of the damage it had
received from the galley-slaves.

Dorothea was possessed of too much hnmont and sprightly wit not
to join with the rest in their diversion at Don Quiiote s expense : and
perceiving hia wrath, she said ; " Sir kulght, be pleased to remember
the boon you have promised me, and that you are thereby bound not
to engace in any other adventure, however urgent ; therefore assuage
your wratli, for had signor tho hcentiate known that the gallev -slaves
were freed by that invineible arm, he would sooner havesened up his
mouth with three stitches, and thrice have bitten bis tongue, than he
would have said a word that might redoimd to the d is para ¡remen t of
your worship," "By my faith 1 would," exclaimed the priest; "or
even have plucked off one of my mustaehios." " I will sny no more,
madiim,"said Don Qaixote: "and I will repress that just indignation
raised within my breasl.and quietly proceed until Ihavenecomplishcd
the promised boon. But in requital, 1 beseech you to inform me of
the particulars of your grievance, as well as the number and quality
of tne )>ersons on whom I must take due, satisfactorv, and complete
TeveniTC." " That I will do most willingly," answered Dorothea, " if
a dediil of my afflictions will not be wearisotne to yon." " Not in tho
least, my dear madam." replied the knieht. Well, then," said
Dorothea," jou have only to favour me with your attention." Cardenio
and the barber now waited hy her side, curious to hear whnt kind of
story she wo»ld invent. Sancho, who ««"" as mnch deceived as his
master, did the same; and altera hem or two, and other preparatory
airs, with much grace she thus began her story : —

A.OOgIC

í MOSSTBODS GIAST. ISS

" In the first place, yon mast know, Rentlemen, that my name is"
—here slie stopped short, hivinij furgotten the name the priest had
pven her ; but ne came to her aid, saying, " I am not at all surjirised
at your h¡Kliness's emotion, xtyoa tois recurrence to your misfortunes ;
for affliction, too often depnies us of the faculty of iiicniory— even
now, your highness seems to forget that you are the great prineeas
Mieomiconia." " True bdecd!" answered Dorothea; "butlwiU com-
mand my distracted thoughts, and proceed in my true tale of sorrow.

" My father, Tinacrio the Wise, was very learned in the magic art,
and foresaw by it that my mother, the queen Xaramillo, would die
before him: that he must soon after depart this life, and that I should
le thus ktl an orphan. But this, he said, did not trouble him so
niueh ss the foreknowledge he had that a monstrous giant, lord of a
great island, borderinii upon our kingdom, called Pandafllando of the
Gloomy Aspect— foe it is averred that oltliough his eyes stand in their

5 roper place, he always looks askev, as if he squinted ; and this he
oes of pure mahgnity, to scare and frighten those he looks at — my
father foresaw, as I satd before, that this ^ant would take advantage
of my orphan state, invade tnj kingdom with a niighlv force, and take
it all from me, without leavmg me the smallest viiluse, wherein to
hide my head ; but that it was in my power to avoid all tliis ruin and
misery Dj marrying him, although he could not imagine that I would
consent to the match— and he was in tiie right ; for I could never
think of marn'ing this, nor any other giant, hovevcr hu;;e and mon-
strous, tly father's advice was that when, upon his decease, I'anda-
filando invaded my kingdom, X should not make any defence, for that
vonid be my ntin : but, to avoid death, and the total destruction of
my faitliful and ]oyal subjects, my best way was voluntarilv to iguit
the kingdom, since it would he impossible for me to dcreiid myself
against the hellish power of the piant : and immediately set out, with
a few attendants, for Spain, where I should find a remedy for my dis-
tress, in a knÍL;lit-errant, whose fame about that time, would extend
all over that kingdom ; and whose name, if I remember right, was lo
be Don Axote, or Don Gigsote." " Don Quixote, you mean, madam,"

Sinoth Sancho Pama, " or otherwise called the KniRht of the Sorrow-
ul Figure." " You are risht," said Dorothea. " He said, further,
that he was to be toll and thin.visagcd ; and on bis riglit side, under
the left shoulder, or thereabouts, he was to have a giey mole, with hair
lite bristles."

Don Quixote, hearing this, said lo his sfluire, " Come hither,
Sancho ; help me to strip, that I may know whetlier I am the kni'^'ht
alluded toin thepropbecyof that sage king." "You need not strip,"
said Sancho; "1 know you have exactly such a mole on the ridge of
your back — a sure sign of strength." "That is sufficient," said
Dorothea; "for we must not stand upon trines. It matters not-
whcllier it h? on the shoulder or on the back-bone ¡—there is a mole,
and it is all tlie same flesh. Aad doubtless I am perfectly right in
Tccommen»ling myself to Signor Don CJuixote; for he must he the
knistit whom my father meant, since it is proved, both by his person
ana his extraordinary fame, not only in Spain, but over all La
Mancha : for I was hardly landed in Ossuna before I heard of so
many of his exploits that I felt immediately assured that he must lie
the Very ¡lerson whom I came to seek." "But, dear umdiim, how
came you to land at Ossuna," said Don Quixote, "unoe that is not a

,..,,.. :A.OOglC

seaport town ?" Before Dorothea could rep!/, the priest, intFTposfngv
said : " Duuljtiess the princess would bay tbat, after she hat) landcil
ftt MaWa, the first plaec where she heañl news of jour worship was
Ossuna. "Thatis whnti meant loaaf," said Dorothea. " Nothing
can be more clear," rejoined the priest. "Please your majesty to

iiroceed." " 1 havelittle more to add," replied DcffOthta, " hut thati
lavinji now had the good fortune to meet with Signor Don Ouinofe,
I already look upon myself as queen and mistress of my whole kintp-
dom, since he out of his coartes/ and generosity, has promised, m
compliance with my request, to p> with me wherever I please to con-
duct him ; which shall he only into the presence of PandaflL-indo of
tJie Gloomy Aspect, that lie may slay him, and restore to me that whiA
has been so unjustly usurped. Nor is there the smoliest reason to
donbt bat that all this will come to pass, accordin;; to the prophecy
of the wise IMnacrio, my g«od father • who, moreover, left an order,
written cither in ChaWcan or Greek (for I cannot read them), that if
this knight in his propheey, after cutting off the giant's head, should
desire to marry me, I must immediately submit to lie his lawful wife,
and with my jíerson give him also possession of my kingdom."

" Now, what thjnkcit thou, fricad SancboP" quoth Don Quiiofe.
"Dosllhoulieartbati' Did not I tcil Ihec so P See whethcrwehaw
not now a kingdom to command, and a queen to many !" "Odds
my life 1 so it is," cried Sancho ; ' and plague take him for a son of a
Blrumpet, who will not many as soon as Signor Pnndafilando's wizen
is cut. About it then; her majesty's a dainty bit: I wish all the
fleas in my bed were no worse. And so saying, he cut a couple of
capers^ and exhtbtted other tokens of delip;lit. Tlien Inring hold of
the reins of Dorothea's mole, and making tier stop, he fell down upon
bis knt-^i before her, beseeching her to give bim tier hand to kissj in
token thai he acknowledged her for his queen and mistresa. M ¡th
ditRciilty could the rest of the party restrain their laiiitlitrr at the
madness of the master and the simpUcity of the man. Dorothea held
ont her hand to him, and promised to make him a great lord in her
kingdom, when Heaven should be so propitious as to put her again
in possession of it. Suncho returned her thanks in expressions which
served to increase their mirth.

" This, cent lemen," continued DoroHea, " is my history; I hare
only to add. that of all the attendants I brotisbt with me from my
kingdom, 1 have none left but this well-bcardcd squire ; for the rest
were all drowned ia a violent storm which overtook us insight of the
pott. Re and I got oshom on a conple of planks, as it were by S
miracle ; and indeed the wliole progress of my life is a miracle and
mystery, aa you may iiave obserról. And if I have exaggerated, or
not been so erart-as I ou;rlit to have been, ascribe it, I cnlteat you,
to what the reverend gentleman said at the beginningofmy narrative,
tbat eontioual and exlraortünary troubles deprive the sufferer even of
memory." " Mine sliail never fail me, O most worthy and eialted
lady ! cried DonQuixoti^ "-whatever I maybe called upon to endure
in your service. And again I confirm my engagement, and swoar to
aocompany you to tlie renmtest regions ottlie earth untQ I shall meet
and grapple with that fierce enemy of yours, whose proud head, by
the hell) of Heaven and this my strong arm. I wUI out off with the
edgeot tliis (I will not say good) sword : thanlisbe to Gines dc Pa.'wa-
uoidjiiWltoCBniedoSmyown." Tbeselastwwdaheuttciediualower
A.OOgIC

UXCUO I ADVICE.

your dominioiu, the. disposal of your person will be at your o'

creljon, since, wliilo my memory is cngroased, toy heart eatliralled,
and my mind subjeclcd to her who— I say no more — it is ijnpossible
I should prevail upon myself evun to tbiük of marrying, alLtiñugli it
were a plicmix."

Don Qoixute's last declaration was so displeasing to Sancho, that^
á a great fury, he eiclaimed: "I vow and swear, Si^nor Don
Qukote, your worship cannot be in your right senses ! How else is
if possible you should scruple to marry so great a princess ? Do yon
thtuk that fortune is to offer you at every turn such good Inok as
this? Is mr liuiy Dulcinea more beautiful P no, indeed, not by half !
nay, I conld almost say she ¡a not worthy to tie this iad^r's shoe-
String. I am like, indeed, to get the earldom if your worship stands
fchiujf for mnshrooms at the fiottoni of the seal Marry, many at
once, m the devil's name, and take this kingdom that drops into your
hand; and when you are a king, make me a marquis or a lord-lieulA-
nant, and then the devil take the rest 1" Don Quixute, unable to endure
such blasphemies against his lady Dulcinea, raised Ilia laiicc, and,
without word or waminir, let it fall with such violence upon Sancho
that be was laid flat on the ground ; nod had not Dorothea called out
entreating htm to forbear, tlie squire had doubtless been killed on the
spot. " Thinkest thou, said Bon Quixote to him, after a short
pause, " base varlet ! that I am always to stand with my anas folded;
and that there is to be nothing but tran^rcgsion on thy side^ and for-
pveness on mine F Expect it not, excommunicated wretch ! for so
inou surely art, having presumed to speak ill of tlie peerless Dul-
cinea. Knowcst thou not, rustic, slave, beugar ! tliat were it not for
the DOwer she infuses into my arm, I should not have enauih to kill a
fieaP Tell me, envenomed scoffer I who, thinkest thou, has gained
this kingdom, and cut off the head of tliis giant, and made thee a
marquis (all of which I look npon as dono), nut the valour of Dul-
dnea, employing my arm as the instrument of lier exploitsP She
fights, she vanonisbes in me ; in Ler 1 live and breathe, and of her I
hold my life and being. 0. base-bom villain ! what ingratitude, when
thou seeat thyself exalted from the dost of the earth to the title of a
lord, to makf! BO base a return as to speak contemptuously of the liaoid
that raised thee."

Sancho was not so mtich hurt but that he heard all his master said
to him ; and getting up nimbly, he ran behind Dorothea's palfrey ;
uid thus sheltered, he said to tnm : " Pray, sir, tell me if you are
resolved not to marry this princess, it is plain the kingdom wiU not bo
yours — what favours then will you be able to bestow on me ? That
b what I complain of. Marry tliis queen, sir, once for «U, now we
have her, as it were, rained down upon us from heaven, and after-
wards you may turn to my lady Dulcinea : for there have been kings
who have }iad mistresses. As to the matter of heanty, I have nothing
to say to that ; but if I must speak the truth, I realir think them botn
very well to pass, though I never saw the lady iJaJeinea." " How I
never sa^ her, blasphemous traitor I" said Don Quixote; " baat
thou not just brongiit me a mesaage from her ? " " 1 say I did not
Bee her so leisurek," aúd Sancho, as to take particular notice oí
her features piece by piece; but lake her altogether, she looks well

. A.OOgIC

I5S DON QUIXOTE.

enonsrh." " Now I pardon thee," said Don Qakote ; " and do thon
excuse my ii-rath towards thee : for first emotions ire not in our
power." " So I find," answered Sancbo ; " and in roe the desire of
talking 13 always a first motion, and 1 cannot forbear uttering at once
whatever conies to my tongue's end." " Nevertheless," ouoth Don
Quiiote, " take heed, Sancho, what thou ntterest : for ' the pítclier
that goes so often to the well'— I say no more." " Well, then,"
answered Sancho, " God is in bcavcn, who sees all gidle, and shall be
jadge of which does most harm, I, in not speaking well, or your
worship, in not doing well." " Let there be no more of this," said
Dorothea: "go, Sancho, and kisa your master's hand, and ask liis
pardon. Henceforward be more cautious in your praises and dis-
praises ; and speak no ill of that lady Toboso, of whom 1 know na
more than that I am her humble servant, Put tout trust in Heaven :
for you shall not want an estate to live upon lite a prince." Sancho
went with his head hamming down, and begged his master's hand, who

E resented it to him with much gisvity ; and when he had kissed it.
Ion Quiiote gave him his blessing; be then begged that he would walk
on before with bim, as he wished to put some ijuestiona to him, and
to have some conversation on affairs of great importance. Havinf
both advanced a little distance before tbe rest, Don Quiiote said:

" Since thy return, 1 have had no opportunity to inquire after many
particulars concemiug thy embassy, and the answer Inou brougbtest
back: and now that fortune presents a favourable occasion, deny me
not tee ^tifioatioD which thou art able to bestow by such agreeable
communications." " Ask me what questions you please, sir," an-
swered Sancho : " I warrant I shall get out as well as I got in ; but
I besMch your worship not to be bo revengeful for the future."
" What dost thou mean, Sancho ? " quoth Don Quiiote. " I say so,"
replied Sancho, " because the blows you were pleased to bestow on
me just now, were rather on account of the quarrel the devil nised
between us the other night than for what I said against my lad^ Dul-
cinea, whom I love and reverence like any relic, though she ¡a ono
only masmueh as she belongs to your worship." " No more of that,
Sancho, at thy peril," said Don Quiiote ; " tor it offends me : I for-
gave thee hdbre, and thou knowest the saying — ' For a new sin a
new penance.' " At this time thev saw a man coming towards them
mounted upon an ass, and as he drew near he had the appearance of
a gipsey. But Sancho I'ania, who, whenever he saw an ass followed
it with eyes and heart, had no sooner got a glimpse of the roan, than he
recognised tíines de Fassamonte, and, by the same clue, was directed
to his lost ass; it being really Dapple himself on which Gines was
mounted I for in order to escape discovery and sell the animal, he had
disguised himself like a gipsey, as he could speak their language,
among many others, as reai£lv aa his native tongiie. Sancho imme-
diately called out aloud to nim, "Ab, rogue GinesíUol leave my
darling, let go my life, rob me not of my comfort, quit my sweetheart,
leave my delight !— fly, rapscallion— fly !— get you gone, thief! ana
give up what IB not your own." So moch railingwas not necessary;
tor at the first word Gincs dismounted in a trice, and taking' to bis
heels, was out of sight in an instant. Sancho ran to bb Dap^e, and
embracing him, said : " How hast thou done, my dearest D^pl&

ms LZITBIt TO DULCINEA 159

peace, and suffered himtelf to be tlrns iissci aod caressed by Sancho
without anstrering bim one word. They all cameup, and wished him
joyoa the restoraltoo of hU Dapple; especiallj Don Quixote, who
at the same lime assured him that he should not on tnat account
leroke bis order for the three colts ; for wliich he had Saocho's lieart;
thanks.

_ In the mean time the priest commended Dorothea for her ingennitj
mthecontrivonceof her story, for its conciseness, and ita tesembhince
to the narrations in books of cflivolry. She said sue had often amused
herself with such kind of books, but that she did not know much of
gec^p^phy, and therefore bad said at a venture that she landed at
Ossuna. So I oonjectured," said the priest; "and therefore I
corrected your mistake. But is it not straniife to sec how readily this
unhappy éeotleman believes all these fictioQS, onlv because they
Tésemele the et)ie and manner of his absurd books P "It is indeed
extraordinary," said Cardenio, "and so unnrecedented that I mncli
question whether any one conld be found possessed of insenni^
enough to invent and fabricate such a character." " There is another
thii^ remarkable," said the priest, "which is, that except on that
particular subject, this icood ^utleman can discourse very rationaUjr.

CHAPTER XTTXT.

Thkt were thus pnTsoing their conversation while Don Quixote
proceeded in his with Sancbo. " Let us forget, friend Pama, whc^ ia
past ; and tell me now, all rancour and animoaity apart, where, how,
aiid when didst tbon nnd Dulcinea P What was she doing P What
didst thou say to her P What answer did she return P How did she
look when she read my letter F Who transcribed it for thee Í Tell
me all that is worth knowing, inquiring, or answering. Inform me of
all, without adding or diminiahing aught to deprive me of any satis-
faction." " Sir," answered Sancho, " to say the truth, nobody tran-
scrilted the letter tor me j for 1 carried no letter at all." Tboa
■ayeat true," qnoth Don Quixote, "for I found the pocket-book in
which I wrote it two days after thy dcpariiure ; whicn troubled me
exceedingly; and I thought tbon wouldst return for it." "So I
shonld have done," answered Sancho, " had I not got it by heart
when your worship read it to me ; and so perfectly that I repeated it
to a parish derk, who wrote it down so exactlv that he aoii^ thon^
he had read many letters of exoommnnicatioD, De had dctct m all hii
life seen or read so pretty a letter." " And hast thoa it still by
beart, SanohoP" said I^oa Qnixoie. "No, air," answered Sancho;
" for after I had dehvered it, seeinK it was to be of no further ub& I
forgot it on purpose. If I reneniW anything, it is 'subterrane, I
nmn™ ' toTereigu ' lady, and the conclnsion, ' tÜine until death, the

'1 A.OOgIC

Knight of the SotTovfulFigiue:' uid between these two Üún^ I put
aboTR tliree huiidred eooia, md lives, and dear eyes."

" This is vet)' well— proceed," sua Don Quixote. "On thy arnral,
what was tbut queen of beauty doing F I suppose thou foundest her
strínsing pearls, or enibroideniig some dcTicewith threads of sold fot
this Eer captive knight." " No, faith !" aniwered Sanciio ; "I fonnd
her winnowins two bushels of wheat in a iMicli-yard of her house."
"TUen be assured," said Boa Quiiote, " that the grains of that wheat
were so many grains of pearl, when toached by her hands. And
didst thou observe, friend, whether the wheat was fine, or of the
ordinary sort?" "It was neither," answered Sancho, "but of the
rcddbh kind." " llely upon it, however," quoth Don Quixote, " that
when winnowed by her hands ii made tl:^ nnest nianchet bread— hat
go oa. M^licn thou gavest her my letter, did she kiss it P Did she

f)ut it upon lier bead J' Uid she use aKy ceremony worthy oF such a
otter P — or what did she do ?" " When I was going to gice it to
¡ler," answered Sancho, " she was so busy winnowing a good sieve-
full of Che wheat, that ahs said to dib. ' Lay the letter, friend, npon
that sack; for 1 ca ' ' > until I have done what I am about.'"

"Discreet lady I" ¡uixote; "this was assuredly that she

might read and ei siiore 1 Proceed, Sancho - while thus

employed, what di she with thee P— what did she inquire

concerning me? idat thou answer? Tell me all; omit

not the slighteat e.'' "She asked me nothing," said

Sancho ¡ " bul It r your worship was doing peuance, for

her service, among s, naked from the waist upwards, just

hke a savage^ sleeping on the ^o'und, not eating bread oa a napKui,
nor oombingyour Vard, weeping, and cursing your fortune." " In
saying that I cursed my fortune, thou saidst wrong," quoth Don
Quixote: "Iratber bless it, and shall bless it all the da^ of my life.
for having made me wortliy to love so high a lady as Dulcinea del
Toboso." " So liigh, indeed," answered Sand», " that in good faith
she is a baud taller than I am." " Why, how ! Sancho," said Don
Quixote, " hast thou measured with her ?" " Yes," answered Sancho ;
" for as I was helpiug her to put a sack of wheat upon an ass, wo
came so close together that I noticed she was taller than 1 by more
than a full span." "True," replied Don Quixote, "and is not this

. , , . , , IF her, thou mnst hava

perceived a Sablean odour, an aromstic fragrance, a Bomething sweet,
for which I oaoiiut find a name— « scent, a perfume— as if thou wert
in the shop of sume curious glover." " All I can say is," qnolh
Sancho, " that I perceived eomen-hat of a stron? smell, which must
have been owing to the sweat she whs in with hard work." "Im-

Cible!" erica I)wi Quixote; "that smell must have proceeded
I thyself: forwelll know the scent of that lovely rose amoiw
thorns, that lily of the valley, that liquid amber." "Very likelj',"
answered Sandio ; "forthevervsaniesmell often comes ftwm me whteh
melhought then came from my lady Dulcinea : but wbere's the wonder
that one devil should he hke anotherF", "Well, then," eontinned
Don Quixote, " she baa now done winnowing, and the com is sent to
the mill. ^Vliat did she do when she had read the letter ?" " The
letter," quoth Sancho, " she did not read ; for she said that she eould
neither read nor write; ao she tore it to pieces, saving she vouldnot

NEWB nOK SVLCINEl.

_, , .0 read, that ber secrets mi),

Qtage ; Mid that vhat I had told Iter b; vord of muuth

jour worship's love, and a" ' " ' ' '

b; and ahebid me tell yoa

bands, and that she vould rather si , . , .

begt^d and comnianded ;oii, at sight liercof, to qnit those brakes and

busliea, and leave off tlieae foolish pranks, and set out immediately for

Toboso, if bosiaesB of more coDseqnence did not preri^nt jou; lor ahe

irislied mightily to sea your vorship. She laughed heartily, wliea I

told her how vou oalled jouraelf the Knight of the Sorrowful Figure.

lask^ ber whetlier the £isoajan had been there with her; she told

mc he bad, and that be wm a verr good kind of fellow. I asked her

abo after ine galley-slaves, but she had not yet seen any of them."

"Ail this is well," said Dun Quiiote;" but, tell me, what jewel did

she preaest tliee with at thj' departure, in return for the tidmgs tbou

badst bmusht ber? for it la au ancient uQd universal custom among

inights and ladies-errant to bestow some rich jewel on the squires,

damsels, or dwarfs «ho brins them news of their mistresses or kniglits,

at a reward or acknowledgment for their welcome inlelligeuce.

" Very likely,", quoth Sancho, " and a good custom it was ; but it

of vore, for now-a-days the custom is to ^ive

1 cEeese, for that was what my lady Dulcinea

of Che yard, when sbe dismissed me; and, by

made of sheep' s-milk." "She is eitrcmelr

ixote ; " and if she did not give thee a jeivel,

JO she had none about ber ; but ^ts arc good

ee ber, and all will then be rectified.

thing, Sancho, which is, that than must have

>nsh the air; for thou hast been little more

forming this joumey, although the distance

Toboso is more than thirty leadles ; whence

e enchanter who baa the super! uteadcnce oC

one there is, or I ahonld be no trae kiii;;bt-

e enchanter ranst have expedited thy journey;

> ¥rill t^e up B knleht-emmt sleeping in his

lowing anything of the matler, he awakes the

nd ieajfucs from the place where he fell asleep.

_ ..je it wonld be impossible for knights-errant to

succour each other, as they often do, in the critical moment of danger.
A. knight, fm in^mce, baopena to be fighting in the mountains of
Armenia with acme iteadíür monster, or ueroe ^blin, or some other
knigbt ; he has the worst of the combat, and is just npon the point of
being ulled, when sudde^ another knight, bis frieod. who perhaps
a moment before was in £agland, cornea upon a cloud, or in a fiery
ebanoL and rescues him &¿m death ; and on tbe same evening he
finds himself in hia own chamber, aappisg vitb a good appetite, after
ajouroej of two or three thousand ieagnea. And all this is effected
tv the diligence and skill of those aagd enchuiten. So that, friend
Sancho, X make no difficulty in believing that tbon hast really per-
formed tbe journey in tliat short time ; luiving, doubtless, been borne
onconsciouály thiougb the air by some fioendly power." " It may be

>Tarbial expreadnn, ngui^ing Uiat a good lUng ti alwayi
L.OOgIC

Mimnifln

163 COH quiKon.

80, f|notli Sancho; "for, in good faith, Roiiianl^e went like «nr
Bohemian's ass wilti quicksilver in his ears." • " With qnicVailver,*'
said Don Quixote ; "ay, and with a legionoi devils to boot; asortof
cattle that travel and make others travel as fast aa the)' please vritb-
ont hems tired. But waiving this aubiect for the present, what
thinkest thou 1 should do respecting dit lady's orders that I sbould
wait upon her P 1 am hoond to ooey ner commands, yet bow is it
possible, on account of the boon I have promised to the princess f
The laws of chivalry oblife me to consider mr honour ral her than my

fileasore. On the one hand, I am torn witn impatience to see niy
ndy — on the other, I am incited by elorj to the accomiilishment of
this enterprise. My best plan, Ibeucve, «■ill he to travel with all

{lossible expedition, cut off the giant's head, replace the princess on
ler throne, and then inatantlv rcfum to that sun which illuniiues my
BCTises, who will pardon a delay which was only to augment her feme
and dory ¡ since all my victories past, present, nod to come, are but
emanations from her favour."

" Alack ! " cried Sancho, " your worship mnst needs be (townrieht
craiy! Tell me, pray, do you mean to take this jonmey for nothing?
And will you let slip such a match as this, when the dowry is a king-
dom which, they say, is above twenty thousand leagues round, ana
abounding m all tliintts necessarv for the support of lifp, anri bi^'ger
than Portugal and Castile tosether f For the Inve of Heaven, talk
no more in this manii<:r, hut follow my advice, and be married out of
hand at the first place where there is aprieüt; our licentiate here «ill
do it very dcveriy. And please to recollect, I am old enough to give
advicei and what I now give is as fit as if it were cast in a mouia for
you : for a sparrow in the hand is worth more than a bustard on the
wing : and he that will not when he may, when he would lie shall
have nay." "Hear me, Sancho," rephed Don Qimtofe, "if thou
adviseat me to marry, only that I mav nave it in my power to reward
tliee, be assured that I oan gratify tty desire without taking suii a
measure ; before the battle I will make an agreement to possess part
of the kingdom without marr jmg the nrinoess ; and when I liave it to
whom dost thou think I shaJl give it Bnt to thyself? " " Ño doobt"
«nawered Sancho ; " but pray, sir, take care to choose it towards the
sen, that, if I should not like living there, I may islirp off my black
subjects, and dispose of them, as I said before. I would not have

fftBT worship Ironble yourself now about seeing my lady Duicinoa,
at go and kill the giant, and let ua make an end of this businesi :
for, before Heaven, Ivenly believe it will bring us much honour ana

irofit." " Thou art in the right, Sancho," said Don Quixote, " and
shall follow thy oomsel, and accompany the princesa before I visit
my lady Dnldnea, But I beg thou wik say nothing on the subject
C* oor conference, not even to our companions ; for smoo Dulcinea is
■0 reserved that she would not have her thoughts known, it would bo
improper in me or in any other person to reveal them." " jt s«^"
quoth Sancho, " why does your worship send ail those you conquer
by jourmi^ty arm, to present themselves before mr Udy Zhiicinea,
for this ia giviog it nndra your band thai you are mWe witiihcrF

* In alluaioD to a triok praotlsed by tlw Bohemlwi bonfi'dMJeni, who, to
gira pacas to Uto moat Bti^id muta, or to Uw tdlcM tm, war* in tba Iiabll
9f pouring a anmil quantity of quiaoUver into it* wa.

A.OOgIC

FBOH XNISET-EB3^NTILT. 163

'BfnrduUffiiil nnnrie tliou art!" said Don Qniiole. "Seest thon
act, Sancho, that «U this redoand» the mni'c to her exaltation ? For
thou must know that, in this our style of ehiralry, it is to the honour
of a ladr to have many kniahts-prrant, who serve her merely for her
owK sake, withuut hid\it^n!( a hope of any other rnvftrd for t neir ztal
thaa tlie honour of being admitted amouz the nambeTorher kiii|;hta."
" I have heard it pceoched," quoth Sancho, " that God ia to bo
lOTed vith t)(>s kind of love, for Himself alone, without our being
moved to it b; hope of reward or fear of punishment j though, for my
part, I am inelined \a love and serse Him for wiial Uv. is able («i do
for me." " 'iiie devil take thee for a bumpkin," uid Don Quixote ;
" thon Mjest ever and anon etich apt thing's that ojie would atnmet
think thee s schotar." "And yet, bj injr faith," quoth Sancho, " I
camot BO niDch m read."

While they «ere thns talking, Master Nicholas called aload to
tbem to stop, IB they wiabed to quench their thiist at a small spring
near the road. Uon Quixote halted, muoh ta Ae Bntisfaotiuii of
Sandio, irh» bf«an to be tired of telling so mai» lies, and «as afr^iid
his vaastn should at last oatch him tripping : for allhoii;;h lie kiitvr
Dulcinm was a peasant-pii i>f Toboso, he had never seen her iu his
life. MeuLwhile, Gardenia had pat on the clotliea vom by Dorothea
in her dissmise, being better than his own. T hev alighted at the
fosnUin, and with the provisions which the córate had brought from
the inn, they all appeased their hmgier.

Whili! they were thus employed, a lad happened to paas that way,
irhn, aft«r íoalcing aaraestly at the party, ran up to Don Quixote, and,
etnwaein;^ he knees, bei^iinto weep, saying: "Ah, dear sir 1 does sot
jour worship know meP Look at me well: lamAsdrcis, the lad
whom you delirered from tlie oA to which I was tied," Don Quiiot«
teooliected bira, and, takin;; him bv the hand, ho thus addressed the
eompBuy ; " To convince you of tfte importanee of knights-errant in
tke wond, in order to redress the wrongs and injuries committed by
insolent and wicked men, know that some time since, as 1 was pasung
a wood, I heaid certain sies, and tke voice of some person iu afftio-
tion siui distress. Pnmpted by my duty, I hastened towards the
tdace whence the voice seemed to oome, and I found, tied t^ an oat,
this Ud whom yon see here. I am rgoiced to my soul that he is pre-
sent, for he will attest the tmth of whet I tell you. He was bound,
1 ny, to an oak-tree, naked from ^e wust upward, wd a coantry-
JTdlow, whom I afterwards found to be his master, was huliini; bim
with a bridle. I immediately demanded Um reason of so severe a
•tuutisBment. The down uiawered that he was bis servant, whom
ke was poniihiiig for nedcot, proceeding rather from knavery thnn
■inptimty. ' Sir,' aud the boy, ' be whips me only beemse 1 aak him
for my wafres.' The master, in repi}', made many íípeeches and
eicusea, wojoh I heard indeeo. but dtd not admit. In sBort, I oom-
nelled him to unbind the youth, and made him awear to take him
Innw, aut pa* erery reel, petfained into the bargain. Is not all this
trne, son Awsea t Didst thou not observe with what authority I
eammanded, and with wliat humility he promised to do whatever I
enjoined, notiflod, and required of him F Answer boldly : reUte to
thia eoR^MBy what passed, tliat tbey mH see tJie henefito resulting
from tiia TOe«tÍDii «f ki^hts-eiTant," 'All that your worship hat
(■id ia TOT true," ansvnal the lad ; "bat the husmeas ended ^uite

»3 . r , ■X.OOg\C

lU ro» quixoTK.

contrftrj to what yonrworslupsuiipiwes." "HoWjCOntraryf" replied
Don Quixote; "aid not tlie rustic iustaotly pay tlice?" "He ni*
only did not pay me," answered the boy, " but as soon as your worship
was out or the wooa mid we were left alone, be tied me again to ihe
same tn e, imd gnvc me so many ftesh lasties tliat 1 tras flaved like
any Saint Bartbcilomew; and at ever; stroke he said sometliinir by
way of scoff or ¡est upon jour worsliip, which, if I had not felt so
much pain, would have made me laa!:h. In short, be laid on in such
a manner inat I have been ever since in a hospital, to gtt cured of
the bruises that crui'l fellow (hen gftTe me: for all which your
worship is to blame, for had you pone on jour way, and not come
when you were not called, nor meddled with other folks' business,
my master would have been satisfied with givin^ me a dozen or two
of laslics, and then would have loosed me, and paid me my due. But,
BB vour worship abused hiu) so unmercifully, and called him so many
bad names, his wj'ath was kindled ; nnd, not bavins it in his power
to be revenged on you, no sooner had you left him than he diseoarKed
such a tempest upon me that I shall never be a man again while 1

" The mischief," si my departing before I

had seen yon paid ; i, b^ long experience,

that no rustic will ki t his interest to break

it. But thou maycs! I swore it he paid Ihee

not I would hunt hii concealed in a whale's

■ belly." "That is ti ; it signified not bins." ■

"Thon shalt see thai 1 so aayini;, he started

,., and ordered Si :e, who was gn^ziug.

lorothea asked him F lie told her that he

was goiii9 in search : him for hís base con-

duct, and make hin farlhing, in spite and

defiance of all llie m Jesired he would recol-

lect that, according to the promised boon, lie could not engage in any
other adventure until hers bad been accomplished ; and, as no one
could be more sensible of this than himself, slie entreated him to curb
his rescntnient until his retnmfrom her kingdom. "You are right,"
answered Bon Quixote; "and Andres must, as you say, madam, llave
patience until m^ return : and 1 again swear not to rest uutil he is
revenged and paid." " I do not think much of these oaths " said
Andres ; " I would rather have wherewithal to carry me to ScviUo
than all the revenues in the world. If you have anytbingtogiTeiiielo
ent^ let me have it, and Heaven be with your worship, and with all
knights-errant, nnd may tbev prove as lucky errant^ to themselves as
they have been to me." Sancho jpulicd ont a piece of bread and
cheese, and, giving it to the lad, said to him : " Here, brother Andres,
we have all a share iu your misfortune." " ^liy, what share have you
in it ?" said Andres. " This piece of bread and cheese which 1 give
70U." answered Sancho, " God knows whether I may not wont it
myself; for I would have you know, friend, that we squires to
knigiits-errant arc subject to much hunger and ill-luck, and other
things too, whieh are better felt than told." Andres tool the bread
and cheese, and, seeing that nobody else gave him anything, he made
his bow and marched off. It is true, ne said at parting to Don
Quixote : " For the love of Heaven, siñior knight-errant, if you ever
meet me neain, though you see me beaten to piecea. do not come with

, , . .A.OOgIC

S;

THE EHionr betübnh to the mv. 16B

font help, but leave me to my fate, which cannot be so bnd but (Iiat
It will be mude worse by jour worship, whom Giid confound, loirfttlicr
TTth all the knights-errant that ever were born !" So sayhis, he r:ui
off with ao mueb speed that nobody atleinpted to follow hliii. Don
Quixote was muen abaslicd at this affair of Aodre», and" ¡us com-
panions endeavoured to testrain their inelioatíOD to láu^jh, thu,t tlief
niglit not put him quite out of oounteiuuioe.

CHAPTER XXm

WAiek treat* iff nlhia l^A Do» («¿cob ami hit ornpany ol Vie inn.

IiEAvrao the fountain, nfter harini made a hSiirty TC[jast, tbcr

forthwith monnted, and without encountering any aiivcniure worth

relatinir, arrived the next day at the inn so inueh the dread and

terror of Sancho Panza, who now, much against liis will, was obliged

to enter it. The hostess, tbc host, tbeir daugbter, and Maritornes,

sceitis- Don Quixote tmd nis squire, went out to meet and welcome

them. The knight received them with a grave, but upproving

'«tier bed than tfiey bad

swcred, that provided he

k'ould eet him a bed for a

m by his promises, tbey

jame apartment which he

1 shattered lioth in body

dawD upon it. He was

stass fell upon the barbet

Faith, you shall use my tail

In, for my husband's comb

e batlieT would not part

ie told Ikim that }ie nil? lit

' need of tlutt artiScc, he

tell Don Quixote ttiat,

cd to this inn ; and ¡f bs

lid say she liad despatched

eta of her approach with

irber williu!;!/ surrcudcred

6 other ulichis she had

■!» enlar;Km(-»t. All the

beauty of D<irolhca, and

est orden-d llicm to jret

t, hoj)in!r to be well paiiL

1 Quixote still continuea

for at that time he had

rA-OOi^K

ICtt DOH QOnOTZ.

ndvi-tif arc «llli the cairier, and also tfae whole star; of the blanle^
at uliich llii'v ncrc not a Irltle dÍTerted. The priest happeamg to
remiu'k tbat ihc books of cluTaliy which Doo Qnixote had read had
tumi-d hb brain, the iimkeeper said, "I caimot conceive how that
can be; 'for, reaily, in my opinion, there is no choicer reading in
the world. I have three or lour of them by me, with some muía-
scri])ts, vhieh ¡n good trnth have kept me alire, and man; otbeia;
for, in Wvest time, among the reapers who take shelter here durine
flic noonday heal, there is alwavs some one able to read, who will
take up one of these books; loa alwre thirty of us plaee onraelTcs
around him, and listen to nim wiili so much plcasore that it keeps
away a thnuiuind grey hairs : at least, I can say for myself that when
I hear of those furious and tarrlbie blows which the k nigh cs-et rant
ky on. llnnjtio be doinE as much, and could sit and hear them day and
niiibt." " I wiiJi j-ou did," quoth the bostes» ; " few I never havs a
guiet moment in my house but when yon are listening to the read-
ins; for ji<a are then so besotted that yon forcct lo scold."
" Ics, indeed," &aid Maritomes, " and in good faith 1 too Hkc mnch
to hear those things ; for they are rery fine, espeowlly when they tell
us how sucb a lady and her knight lie embraebg each other under an
ornngc-trce, and how a duenna stands upan tlie wateh, dying with
envy and her heart i^iiig pit-a-pat. I say all this is pure liuney."
"And pray, jouujt diiinst!, what is your opinion of these matters?"
(aid the pnest, sildressiuj; himself to the innkeeper's daughter. " I
do not know, iudeeil, sir," answered the girl : " 1 listen, too ; and
though I do not undn-stand, I take some pleasure in hcanni; yet
truly these blows and sInshc^ which please my father so much, are
not lo my nind. I like the complaints the knights make -nhen the;
are absent fiom their mistresses; and really sometimes they make
me weep for ¡lity."

" Tlicn you would soon afford tbem relief, young gentlewoman,"
anid IJorothcn, " if they wept for jon P" I do not know what I
should do," answered the girl; "I only know that some of those
Indies are so cmel that their knighta calf them tigers and lions, and a
thousand other ugly names. And, Jesu! I cannot imagine whid
kind of folks Ibey mast he who are so hard-hearted and uncon-
scionable tbat rutncr than bestow a kind look on an honest gentle-
man, they will let him die or run mad. For my part, I cannot »ea
any reason for so mncb ooyness : if they would behave like honest
women, let them marry them; for that is what the gentlemen would be
at." * ilohl yonr ton?De, hussey," said the hostess ; " methinksycra
know a iireat deal of tíieae matters : it does not become ycnnff
maidens to know or talk so much." Wlien this gentleman askcu
me a civil question/' replied the giri, "I could do no lesa, snre, than
answer bim." " Well, welL" said tee priest ; " but praT, landlord,
let ns sec those books." "With all mv heart," answered the hosti
and goiog into his chamber, he brought out an old trunk, with a
padlock and chain to it, and opening it he look ont Ibree large
Tolumes, and some manuscript papers written in a veri fair ch».
racter. The first book which he opened he found to be Don Ciron-
pilioofThrace, theneit, Fi'liimarteoi Hyrcania, and thdhirdthe
uislorv of the Grand Captam Gómalo Homandei of Ckirdora, with
the life of Diego Garcia de Paredes. Alhen the priest had read thet
title* of the two first, he turned to the barber, and said: "We wont
, , . .A.OOgIC

DiGcraiOH AT XHE iiiir. 1(17

kere our fricml's boasekeeMr and niece." " Not at all," repliud
(lie biU'bcr: " for I mjsea caa carry tlicoi to tlie jard, or to the
cliiumey, woere there la a very good fire." " Wliit, sir, would jou
dura my liocJu f" aái the iuukeejicr. " Ou1y these two," said the

triest, 'D<¡n Cironsilio and Febsmarte." What, then, arc my
■mIíí heretical or idilesmaticsl, that you want to bum them?
" Schisntatical, you would say, my friend," said the barber, " and not
phletniiatica!." " Yes, yes, replied tlie iunteepcr : " but if you
iDleud to bunt any, let it be tbb of the great Captain, and Die^ de
Gaiiña : for I will sooner let you burn one of my children than either
of tho olliers." "Brotíier," said the priest, "these two books are full
of extravuKint fictions and absurd ounceita ; wliereaa tlie history of
'th? great Capt.'iin' is matter^ fact, and contains the exploits of
Gonzalo Ilerauudezof Cordova, who fur his numerous brave aetiona
acquired all over the woiid the title of the great Captain— a name
rcuuKued and iUustrious, and merited by him alone. As for Die^
Garcia de Farades, he was a distin~uislicd gentleman, born in tue

fc™ of Tiuxilla ui Est remadura ; a brave soldier, and of so much
lily strength that he could stop a niill-wb.eel in its roost rapid
(notion with a single finger. Bt'iug once posted with a two-handed
sword at the eutraucc upon a bridge, be repelled a prodigious army,
and prevented their passage over it. Tlicie arc other exploits of the
same kini^ whicli, if instead of bein^ related by himself with ths
OiDdestyof a eavsLcr wlio is his own historian, they had been recorded
t)y some otjicr dispassiouate and unprejudiced author, would have
eclipsed the aetioosof thollectors, Achilfesea, and Orlandos." "Pec-
tuade my grandiiiothcr to that," guolh the innkeeper : " do but sea
That it is he wonders at— thostOMiing of amill-wheel! Before Heaven,
jour worship should read what I have read, concerning Felixmart«
«f Hyrcania, who witli one b»ek-Etroke cut asunder Sve giants
through the middle, as if they had been so many bean-cods of which
tile dJiíldr»! make puppet- friars. At another time, he encountered a
great and powerful army, caa.bi^t)iig of about a million six hundred
tJiouaaad loldiera. tH armed from head to foot, aad routed them as if
ihey had been a iitck. of sheep. But what vill vou say of the good

f)on Ciron^iliaof Thrace F who «as so stout and valiant, as you ma;
here read in the book, that once as he was sailing on a river, seeing
the«urfeceof the water he immediately threw
cttiHK astride its scaly ^oolders, squeezed ib)
haoEU with so much force that the serpen!^
r of being chokei^ had no other remedy but to
)f tlie ñvet, carrymg with him the knient, who
i ; fod «hú they readked the bottom, he found
Balsieo and beautiful garden^ Uiat it was won-
3ie serpent tumod into an old man, who said so
at the like was never beard ! 'I'herefore pray
f you were but to hear aU tiia, you would nm
L fig for the grand C^tain, and your Diego
Garcial"

Dorothea, aeie whispering to Cardeoio, said, " Onr landlord wants
but little to make the second part of Don Quixote." " I tljink so
(oo," answered Cárdenlo ; " far he evidently lakes all that is related
in tliese Iwoks for p^JspeL and tlie bare-foot«d friars themselves could
¿oí make him believe ouerwise." " Look you, brother," taid the
,, ..A.OOgIC

16S noü quTxoTZ.

Siest, " there nerer was in the world snnh a man as relijiniarte of
yrcania, nor Don Cironsilio of Thrace, nor anf other knighla nien-
tioaed in booka of chivalry ; for all is the invention of idle ^ta, vbo
composed them for the purpose of that «muicment wliiob jou saj
Tonr readers Bud in them. I swear to jou there never were aucb
Inichts in the world, nor were such fests and eitravaptnccs ever
performed." " To another dog with that bone," answered the hust :
what then ! I do not know bow nmnv make ñve ; nor where mv
own shoe pinches ? Do not tbink, sir, that I am now to be fed wilt
pap ; fur, before Heaven, I am no suckling-. A fine jest, indeed, that
your worship should endearonr to make me believe that the contents
of these good books, printed with the license of the kind's privy-
council, are all extravagant fables ; as if they would allow tlie print-
ing of a pack of liea ! " I have already told ynn, friend," replied
the priest, " that it is done for the amosement of onr idle thoughta ;
and as in all well-instituted commonwealths the games of clicss,
tennis, and billiards are permitted for the entertainment of those who
have nothing to do, and who onght not or cannot work, for the same
reason they permit such books to be published; presumbs, aa they
■well mav, tliat nobody (an be so ii^norant as to take tttem for trnlh ;
ftnd if tins had been a seasonable time, I conld lay down such n))es
for the composing booka of ebivalry u should, perhaps, make Ihrm
not only ^treeable but even nsetul ¡ however, I hope an opportnnily
nay offer tor mo tocommnt' " " ' ' ibe

power to tnm them to accoi oka ;

and if you will not trust my i their

truth or fiction as you picas and

Heaven grant yon holt not Dm

Quixote." " Not so " answ le lO

mad as to turn kment-erran S «re

altered since those famong ki

Sancho entered dnrii^ this i etl A

hearing that knigbts-emnt w ooks

of diivalry were mere liea aw Ajeá

to wait the event of liis mast , if it

was not successful, to leave 1 and

ohiidren, and to bis accustomed Isbotur.

The innkeeper was carrying away the bo^, when fte priest isáa
to him; "Pray, itop till 1 liave looked at those papers which ara
written in so tair a character." The host took them out, and having
nven them to htm, be found abont eight sheets in manuscript, with a
trge tillepagi^ on wiiich was written, "The Novel of the Curious
Imnortinent/* Tlie priest having read three or four linea to himself,
aaia: "In truth, I do not dislikethe title of this novel, and Ifeel dis-
posed to read the whole." " Your reverence will do well," answered
the innkeeper ; for I assure you tbst some of my gnesta who have read
it liked it mightily, and earnestly be(«!ed it of me ; hut I would not
give it them, meaning to restore it to the person who left behind
Km the portmanteau with these books and papers. Perhaps their
owner may come this way again some time or other; and tnongh I
shall feel the loss of the books. I will Éiithfnlly reítore them ; for
though I am an innkeeper, thank Heaven I am a Chnstían." " Ton
are much in the right, friend," said the priest ; " nevertheless, if the
novel pleases me, yoa must give me lene to take ■ copy of it."
A.OOgIC

' "ths cüuoub nmRnKZHi." 169

"With all D» heart," answered tba mnkeeper. In the mean time
Cardeuio had taken np the sorel, and bein^ likewise pleased with
what be saw, be requested the priest to read tt aloud. I will," said
the priest. " anie&s you think we had better spend our time in sleep-
ing-l^ " 1 would rather listen to some tale," said Dorothea ; " for my
spirits are not so tranquil as to allow me to sleep." Jlaster Nicholas
and Sancho Expressed the same inclination. " Well; then," said thn
priest, " I wijj read it ; for I myself feci a little oariosity, and possibly
it ma^ rield us some amusement. So listen to me, good people, for
thos it begins!—

CHAPTER XXXm.

In tchM it rieüed Ua oowl <¡f " Tht Ouríeta InptrtiiuTit."

In Florence, a rich and famova citj| of Italy, in the province called
Tuscan;', liTcd Anselmo and Lothario, two eentlemcn of nuik and
fortune, and so united in friendship, that by all who knew them tliey
were distinguiabed by the appelktion of the IVo Friends. They wem
both unmarried, and of simdar e^ and dispoeition. Ans(-lmo was
indeed somewhat mora inclined to amorous pleasures than Lothario,
who ^re the preference to country sports; but each would occasion-
ally neglect his own favourite pursuits to follow those of his friend ;

t their inclinations as hannonioualy req^ilated as the
01 a Clock. It so happened that Anselmo (ell desperately in 1
a beautiful voung lady of condition in the same city, named Camilla :

«lo !<<■ .ui%.[Tcd, with the approbation of his friend Lothario, without
which he did nothing, to demand her Id mámate of her father. He
employed Lothario in the affair, irtio maiiaged it mncb to his satisbo-
iion, for in a short time he found himself in possession of the object of
bis HfTcction: and Lothario received the warmest acknowled^sientl
¿on both for his friendly mediation.

For some days after the marriage— davs nsnally dedicated to fes-
tivity— Lothario frequented as nsual his friend Ansclmo's honse ; but
tíie nuptial season oei^ig x»ai, and compliments of congratulation
over, liothario began to remit the fret^uency of his visits to Anselmo;
discreetly thinking it improper to visit friends when married as often
¿ough true friendship) is not sos-
' of a husband, that it is liable V>
Dre by a friend. Anschno observed
ined of it ; teUing him that be would
lected that it would occasion any
rcourse ; and he entreated him to
' terms of familiarity, asaaring him
Irishes on the snhjeot entirely oor-
lario replied with mncb prudence
nselmo, and at length induced him
t be wonid dine with him twice a
I, however, resolved to obaerre thia
lid find consistent with the bonou
,, ..A.OOgIC

of his ñiend, «bote reputation was no le» dear to bim than hia ovn!.
UeiusÜy thoiwlit that a man on whom Heaven has bestowed abeaii'
tiful wife shoula be as cautious respecting the fríende he iutroduces
at home ta to ber femsle acquaintance sitroitá ; for what cannot be
oonoerted at the uiaiket-pUce, at obnrcb, or at public assembbcs, mar
be eaüily effected hy the ossistanoe íA some female relative or conü-
dential friend. At the same liitie, he ackiuwledged timt a hnsband
often required the admonition or interfereaoe of a friend, in case of
any iuadverteucyor want of prudence in a wife, vhiái biaoirnaíFcc^tiaa
nught cause bim to orerloolc. But vhecc is Ansebno to ¿ud such an
adviser, ao discreet, so futbful, and sincere, unless it be in Lothario
himself? — who, withtho utmost diligence and attention, watched over
the honour of hb friend, and contrived to retrench, cut short, and
abridge tbe number of appoiotedvisiting-dayB, lest the iiue and malicious
should censure the free access of a youn;;, rich, and accomplislied
cavalier like himself to the bouse of a beuitiful woman bkc Camilla.
And though bis known íute^ity and woilh might bridle the tonguM
of the censorious, yet he Taa unwilling that bis own honour or tliat
of his friend should be b tbe least suspected. Most of the days,
therefore, on which be bad agreed to visit him he employed in oon-
oems which he pretended were indispensable : and thus gave occaaioti
for friendly complaints on one side^ and eicuaea on tbe other.

One day, as they were walking in the fields together, Anselmo said
to bis frieod: "1 am sensible, J»tlutrio, that X oau never be suffi-
eiently grateful to God for the blessiuxa he has bestowed c« me in
¡tiving me such escellentjtarent^and toe goods of nature and fortune
in abundance ; and especially in having bieaeed me with auoh a friend
«a yourself, and laeh a wife as Caniilm ; treasures which I feel to be
inestimable. Yet, not withstanding all theae advaotag», I am Ibe moat
nneasy and dissatisfied ami living : haviiu been for some time past
harrassed by a desire so strange and Bingular, thati am autpriaed ana
irritated at mv own foUy, and have eodeavoured with all my power
to.iepresB it ; Dutlfindit imposúble. On your friendly breast, the^
I would fain repose my care, audbustbyyouraaaidaitr to beceatoieii
to tranquillity and happiness."

Lothario was surprised at this long preamble, and ooold not poeaiUy
oOBJeotire to what it tended. He told Anselmo that be was bound in
¿iendship to lepoae implicit ttrnfldeBBs ia him, and that he might lalf
on all the asaist«aoe in nia power.

"With this assurance, my friend," anaweted Anselmo^ "I will ccm-
fess, then, to you that the cause of mT solicitude is a desire to asoertaa
whether my wile be at good Hid pericet as 1 think she ii. OS this I
eaoDot be BSsojed, ujiless she pasa ao ordeal, as g<4d doea that of fire ;
for how, my friend, c«o a woman prove her virtue if she be not tned i
She only is chaste who has resisted all the Tarioua solicitattont of «b
importunate lover. Whatmerit canawoBandaimforbeingvirtuon^
if nobody pcranadcsbertobeotherwiseP What is there estmonlinaitr
in a woman's prudenoe, if no opportunity is given ber to go asli&v t
orif she be only reslAinedbytbe fearof ahusbaod'tvengeanoeP £nB
therefore who is correct out of fear, or from want of opportunity, does
not deserve to be hehl in the tame degree of estinuttion as one who
lesiit* importunity. For these reaaons, and others that I could assign^
my desire u that Camilla should pass through the Gery ordctd <¿ temp>
tstioui andifiheoomesout tnuo:phut,BalbQl^vetbe will, Isbii^

, , . .A.OOgIC

"thí cduous díixbtisest." 171

■eooQiit myself anpremcly happy, and can then mt tiist I hive attained
the summit of ¡ptoA fortune, siuct the virtuous woman has fallen to my
lot of vhom the wiscm&n sajs, ' Who can Snd her?' But sliould tlie
event prove otherwise, the sai isfactioo oChaviog proied the truth will
auble mc to bear the afilicliiin occasioned by so costly an experiment.
And, since nothiiii; can divert me from it, I reiiueiit jou, mv friend
Lothario, to be mj instnuneut in this business, for which 1 wiil afford
70U every facility, and yon shall want iiothintt that 1 otm think neoes-
sary to guin upon a modest, rirtuous^ reservcd, and disiutureeted
«Oman. AmoQi; other reaaoos vhicb induce nie to trust liita nice
affair to you is mf confidence that, if Camilla slioold be overeóme, vou
viil not ]iush the vidory to the laat extremity ; so that I shalljie
•mnged onlyin the intention, and tlie injury will remain by you
hnried in silence, wbieh, aa it re^rds me, will most certainly b«
eteruol aa that 01 death. Therefore, if yon would have me enjoy mf
eiistcnce, you must inunediatch engage in this amorous oomhat, not
lan^idly and lazily, but with oli the fervour and diligence my dcaifca
aeouires, and with the secrecy wliieh I expect from your friendship."

Ijolhario had listcnej to Anselmo with the utmost atteiítion. and
without once iatermptin^ bim; even afte^ he bad ceased speaking,
be continued for some tunc fcioiag at him in silt-ncc and aurprtse.
"Surely, my friend Ausolmo," he at length exclaimed, "you have been
saying all this in jest ! Could I think you in carnes^ I ahoald doubt
the evidence of my senses, and question whether you were really
Anaelmo, and I Lothario. Certainly yon are not toe Anselmo you
were wont to be, or you would not have made sueh a request of your
Lothario — for men may prove and use their friends, as the poet
expresses it, uipK ad anu; meaning that a friend should not b»
nequired to act contrary to the law of Qod. If such was the preoept
of ■ haatben, surely H would be unbecoming a Christian to tranagress
it : if aa infraction ever admitted of excuse, it could only be when the
nonoor and life of a friend were at stake. But tell me, 1 pray, wbiatt
oléese are now in dangler, that I should venture to gratify you by
•otumittiDg so detestableaa aotioa f On tlw catfraiy, if I nnderatand
;on rightly, instead of preservinfr. yon vould have He deprive both
701B ano myself of henour and life; for in rohbing yov of honoor, I
should take your VSt, siuoe » man dlshonoaicd is woiae than dead;
and if I beoome the instrument of tJiis evil, shall I not incur the same
&te f Hear me patiently, my friend, and answer not nutil you have
facard all my ur^ments against your strange proposaL" " n ith all
myhevt;" said Anselmo; " say what rou píeme.

" It seems to me, Anselmo," resumed Lothario, " that it is now with
yovas it always is with the Moon, who never can be oravinced of tiie
errors of their sect by the evidenoe of Holy Scriptvres, nor by ug^
meats drawn fmm reason, or founded upon articles of faith: but yoa
most give them proofs tlút are phkin, intelligible, undeniable, and, in
dioii, mathematieolly demonstr^ed ; such as,~'If from equal parts
VDtakc equal parts, those tbat remain are also equal.' And if^they
do not eomprehend this by worda— and indeed they do not— you mu^
riiow it to ibem with yout hands, and set it before their very evea ¡
Rod afto' all, perhaps nothing <nn oraivince them of the truths of our
boly re%ion. Thus it is with you ; and so hopeless is the task of
eontendinfr by argument against such prepwtñous Colly, that only
nj feieadship Cor you prevents me from leaving you at onoe to thq
A.OOgIC

17! BON QUIXOTE.

pmúshment that will attend it. You desire me, Anselmo, to assail ber

wbois modest and pnident— to seduce lier wLo is viituous. As/ou

thus acknowledge tiiat jour wife possesses these quolitius, wliat is it

row would have? Being coDvinced of what is doubtless the fact—

tliat her virtue is impregiiatile, how can she be raised higher in your

estimation ? for she cannot be more tban perfect. If, in reality, you

have not that favourable opinion of her which vou profess to Iiave,

wherefore put her to such a test P Treat her ralner as you think she

deserves. But if, on the contrary, you believe in her chastity aud

truth, it is absurd to make an '

enhance the intrinsic worth e

tarilythat which must be prod

ncss and folly. Difficult works

of the world, or of both : the f

while they endeavour to live a

eucli as are performed for love

who navigate the boundless i

tarions chínales, to acnuire ■

Those who assail Jiazardous en

man are brave soldiers, who i

a breach made by a siagie canr

full of zea] in the defence of Ú

ihpj rush where death ia a the

diflicullies commonly attempte

rioos and profitable. But yoi

dory from above, the goods o

for, supposins tlie event to be

it should be ofhcrwiscj your si

ception, and it can afford you

sciousncss of such a misforiuti

For, as that celebrated poet

at. Peter,'—

Shame, grfef, retnorse. In Pater's breñal InCTcnse. <

Soon u the blushiijjt morn hia orimo bctrnya ;

Whan mast un»ecn, then moat himsell he seo^
And with do* horror all his soul Mirveyo.

Tot b great sph^t needs no censuring svei
To wnond ¡lis soul, when eonsoloiis of a fiiult;

But, self- condom a'd, bnd e'en sclf-puniKh'd, lios,
And dreads no witness lilce upbraiding- 'Thought.

"Expect not, therefore, by concealment to banish sorrow; for,
even though you weep not openly, tears of blood will Sow from your
heart. So wept thai simple doclor, who, accordinit to the poet, would
venture to make a trial of the cup which the more prudent Uinaldo
wisely declined doing; and although this he a poetical fiction, there
is a concealed moral in it wotiby to lie observed and followed. But
1 have yet eomething more to say opon this subject, which, I hope,
will fully convince yoa of the folly of your project.

" Tell me, Anselaio, if you were so fortunate as to possess a «iper-

Islively fine diamond, the value of wliich wbb acknovfledged by jewel'

lera, who all unsnimously declireil that, in weight, goodness^ and

beauty, it was excellent of its kind, would it be reasonable to insist

A.OOgIC

IHFEBTUiEST." 173

on this diiitnond heing laid on ttn anvil to try hy the hamiaer vbetUer
it vete rcaLy so barif aud so fine as it «as pronounced to be ? If Uie
Sifihe bear tbe proof, it could not thercbjr acquire additional value ;
and, ghould it break, would not all be lost F les, ceitainly, and its
owner pass for n fool ! Consider, tlieo, friend Anselmo, tbat Camilla
b a precioDS gem, both in your awn estlniation and m tliat of Uio
world, and tbat it is absurd to expose her to danger, siQce Ibougb
she should remain entire, sbc cannot rise in value; and should she
&Í1, reflect what will be your loss as well as your sclf-rcproacbcs foi
having caused both ber ruin and jnar own 1 There is no jewel in the
world so Talnable aa a chaste and virtuous woman. The honour of
Vometi consists in the good opinion of the world ; and einee that of
of your wife is eminently ^oo^ why would you have it questioned ?
Woman, my friend, is an imperfect creatnre; and, icslead of laying
stnmbling-blocks in her way, we should clear the path before her, thw
^e may readily attain that virtue which Í3 essential in her. Nalu-
Kklists inform us that the eimbe is a little creature with extremely
white fur, and that when the banters ate in pursuit of it, they spreao.
with mire all the ^9cs leading to its haunts, to which they then drive
H, knowing that it will submit to be taken rather than defile itself.
Tlie virtuons and modest woman is an ermine, and her character
whiter tlian snow ; and in order to preserve it, a very different method
most be taken from that which is used with the ermine ; she must
not be driven into mire, tbat is the foul addresses of lovers ; since
she may not have sufhcient virtue and strength to extricate her-
self from the snare. Instead of eiposing her to such danger, yoa
should present to her view the beauty of virtue and fair fame. The
reputation of a woman mav also ho compared to a mirror of crystal,
shining and bright, but hable to be suiled by every breath that comes
new it. The virtuous woman must be treated like a relic— adored,
but not handled; she should bcguarded and prized, Elte afine Bower-
guden, the beauty and fragrance of which the owner allows others to
eojoy only at a diitance, and through iron rails. I wiU also repeat to
you some verses, applicable to the present subject, which 1 remember
to have beard in a uiodcm comedy. A prudtmt old man advises tbe
btlier of a young maiden to loolc well after her, and lock her op.
Among othera, be gives the following rewoDs: —

If womBu '■ glaai; why should wa try

Whether she can be brako, or no I
Ofent hazanla in tbe tHal Ua,

Bgcuiae, parehanoo, ihe may b* so.
Who ihnt is iriiio, Buch brittle «are

Would carolcn áaür upon the floor.
Which broken, nothing can repair.

Nor toUer to its farm reetore t
In this opinion all ore found.

And rsosoD vouches «hat I aaj.
Wherever DanaSs abound,

llieir goldcQ showeis inll moke their way.

"All that I have hitherto said, Anselmo, relates to yon. It is now
pnper 1 should sav something concerning myself; and pardon me if
T am prolix ¡ for I am compeíled to be so, in order to extricate yon

A.OOgIC

Í7Í DON QDIZOTB.

tnm IbK labyrmth into which jou have sfra^red. Too kiok npmi tw
as yonr friend, Bnd jet., against all rules of fnendsbip, would have lue
forfeit my own honour, aa well ss deprive you of yours. Tiiat mine would
be lost i» pbiiu I for when Camilla tienrd of my professions of lovev
slie would certainly re^rd ine as the baseat of men. Tor entertaiiiiDg'
Tjews w deroji^atory to m.Tself and mv friend. And tliat jour houour
would suffer 19 equally certain : for she would miturnlly tliink that I
had discovered some levily in lier, which onouura^'cd rae lo declare a
fiu i II7 passion, and would cunsequentlyicsord herself as dishonoured;
and in iicr dishonour, you, as her liuslmna, must participate, for the
husband of an adulteress ^hou^h ii"t accessor}-, nor e:ven privy, to bw
transirrcssions, is ncvertlietcss univcrsaily branded by an opprobrioi»
and vilit'yiu^ name, and re^rded with contempt rather than pity;
vet if you will listen to me with pnlience, I will explain to you wtij it
is just that the liuaband should suffer this odium. We are informed
by the Holy Seriptures that woman was formed from the rib of our
first parent Adam, and thence pronounced to be one ñcsh. At the
same time, the holy sacrament of marriage was ordained, with ties
tbat death alone can dissolve. The husband, thprefore, being of the
same tlesh as his wife, must needs be affected bynhateveraBeclafaer,
03 (he bead feels the smart of the ancle, and pain in any one of the
members is commnniealed to the whole body. Thus, however euilt-
less the man, he must participate in the womnn's disiionoar, and her
ahame is his disgrace. Think tiien. Anselmo, on the danger to whiob
you expose Tonrself in seeking to disturb the repose of your virtuoos
consort. Consider from what vain and impertinent curiosity you
would stir up the passions now dormant in tlie breast of your chaste
spouse. }teSect what an immense risk you incur for a triOiug gtati-
ilcation. But if all I have said he not sufficient to dissuade you from
your preposterous desizn, you must seek anotliei instrument to effect
your disjfraee and misery ; for I am resolved not to act this part,
though 1 should lose your friendship, which is the greatest loss I can
conceive."

Here the rírtuona and discreet Lothario ceased : and Ansedmo vaa
perplexed for some time how to answer him ; at length he said, " I
have listened to yon, my friend, with attentioa; and your arjruments
prove the sincerity of yonr friendship, as well ss your good sense. I
am weQ aware that in adhering to my project and rejecting your
counsel, I am actiw unwisely : but my dear Lothano, you must look
npon my folly as a disease, ana grant it some indulge ncc— satisfy ma
m just making an attempt, eren though it be but a cold oue. upon
Camilla, who surely will not surrender at the first onaet; and. with
this act of friendship on yonr part I promise to rest OMitcnted. You
will thereby restore mo to the cnjovment of ezisteuce, and presar* e
my honour, which would otlierwise be endangered by your forcing me
to apply to anot^H person ; for determined I still am to make this
expcnment. Do not be oMicemed at the temporary lose of Camilla's
good opinion; lot after her integrity has been proved, you may dis-
close our plot to her, whereupon she will immedialely restore jo« to
favonr. I entreat you then not to decline the task, suice you mvr so
easily gratify me ¡ and again I promise to be satisfied by yowrfint

"XHB CDltlOTIB IMKBTHraST." ITS

=„— any otber disffunaJTe ara

..s requcstjlrat he should expose bis ft„, ., ,

Ansplmo embraced bim witli gnai tenderness una affectioi
tbanked him as raacb for his complianoe as if be bad done him some
great favonr. It was agreed between them that be s)iould begin
operations the tctj neit day, when Anaelnio wonld pre him an
Opportunity to conrerae alone ■with Camilla, and supply hira also with
money »nd jeweJa for presents to her. He ftdvised him to serenade
her, and write Terses in her praise, and if he thousht it too muoli
tronbie, he would himself compose them for him. Lothario consented
toererjthinK, bntwithan intention very different from what his friend
ima^med. Tnis arrangement being mitde, they returned toAnselmo's
house, where they found Camilla aniiously waiting the return of her
Bponse, who that day was later than usuaL Lothario after some
time retired to his own hoose, lea™? bis fiiend no less hanpy than
he was himsdf perplexed at the impertinent business in which he bad
engaged. However, he devised a plan by which he might deceive
A¿elmo and avoid f^ving ofience tu his wife. The next day he went
to dine with his fnend, and was kindly received by Camilla, who
indeed always treated mm with much cordiality, on aecouut of the
friendship her husband entertained for him. Dinner being ñnisbed,
trad the cloth removed, Anselmo desired Lothario tosuiy with Camilbi
while he went upon an nricent afair.whii^hheshonld despatch in ahuut
kn hour and a half. Camilla entreated bim not U) go, and Lothario
effered to accompany him ; but it was all to no purpose ; he impor-
tmed Lothario to wait for him, sayingho wished particularly to speiik
with him on bis retnm ^ at the same time be desired Camilla to enter-
tain hJ9 friend during bis absence, for which be made a very plausible
excuse.

Anselmo departed, and Canilla and Lothario remained together,
the rest of the family being eng^ed at dinner. Tlius Lothario per-
«eived that he had entered the lists, as hi» friend desired, with an
enemy before him sufEciently powerful to cocquerj by her beauty
ahrae, a sqoadton of armed cavaliers : think, then, whether Lothario
had not cause to ieax. However, the first thing that be did was to lean
his elbow on the arm of the chair, and his cneek on bÍB_ hand ; and
bearing Camilla to pardon his illmannera, he s^d he was inclined for
■ littje repose. Camilla answered tbit be would be more at ease on
the ooQch than in the ehair, and therefore begsed that he would lin
down irpon H. Lothario declined the offer, ana remained sleeping in
his cha^r until Anselmo returned, who, &aing Camilla retired to her
dtamber, and Lothario asleep, concluded, as his abstmCe had bean
long, that there bad been time enough for them both to talk and to
lieeji; and he thought Lothario would never awake, so great was his
Bisatienco to team his suooees. Lothario at len^h a\vukine, tbey
walked out together, wlien in answer to the inquiries of Anselmo, he
aid: "lliat be did not think it pnqier to open too far the jk^l tune,
«nd tberefere all (diat he had d!one was to tell her ahe was very
hmdsmiM, and that the whole city talked of her wit and beauty ; and
this he tinn^ a good intrododáon, as he should thus insinuate him-
srif into her goodwill, and dispose h^ to listen to bin the next time
with pleasure : empbying the same artifice as the devil, who. when be
VrMllaDtn^KonttiiOuapenou, assumes on angel (bnu till be cariies

A.OOgIC

176 DON HÜIIOTE.

his point, yihea the cIOTen foot «.ppeara." Anselmo wu extre raelf
veil tatisfied, and said he would (civehimthe same opportunity every
daf, without leaving home, for tbat he eould find some emploTment
to account for his withdrawing himsiclf.

Uanr days now passed, and Lothario stiH preserving his respect to
Camilla, assured Anselmo tliat he had aasajlea her, but that she never
betrayed the least symptom of weakness, nor pave him a sliaduw of
hope i on the contrary, that she tiirealeüed to inform her husband if
he did not relinquish bis base dehign. "So far, all is well," said
Anselmo, " hitherto Camilla has resisted words ; we must now attack
her another way. To-morrow I will give you two thousand crowns iu
gold to present to her, and as many more to purchase Jewels,, by way
of lure, for women are pleased with finery; and if she resists this
temptation, I will be Ealis6ed, and give von no farther trouble,"
Lotbario promised that since he had be^un,ne would go ihrougli with
this affair, although his defent was certain. The next dav he received
tbe four tnonsand crowns, and with them four thouaanil perplexities
as to the new lies he moat invent : he resolved, however, to tell him
Uiat Camilla was quite as inflciinle to presents and promises as to
words, so that he need not trouble himself farther, since it was all
time lost.

Unfortunately, however, Anselmo was seised with an inclination
one day, after leaving Lothario and his wife alone as usual, to listen
at the door, and peep through the kevhote, when, after waiting above
half an hour, he heard not a sineic word pass between them— in truth,
if he had waited all day it would have been to no purpose. He now
concluded that his frieud had deceived him ¡ but to ascertain it he
called him aside, and inquired how matters were going on. Lothario
aaid in reply that he could not persevere any longer, for that she
rebuked him so sharply, he could not presume to open his lips to her
asain upon the subject. "Ah! Lothario, Lothario !" cried Anselmo,
" is this your return for my confidence ? Is it thus you fulfil your
engj^emenfa to me F I have been watching you a long time at the
. door, and find that you have not spoken a word to Camilhii from
wliicii I must infer that you have never yet spoken to her. If so, why
is it vou deceive me ? and prevent me from applying to others who
would gratify mv desire P Anselmo said no more; Lothario was
abashed and coniounáed ; and, thinking his honour touched, by being
detected in a lie, swore to Anselmo that from that moment he engaged
to satiafv him, and would deceive him Eo more, as he should find if
he had tne curiosity to watch him : he might, however, save himself
the troable, for be was determined to raoke such exertions for liia
satisfaction, that there should be no room left for suspicion. Anselmo
betiered him ; and, to give him an opportunity, less liable to interrup-
tion, be resolved to absent himself from home for eight days, and to visit
a fncud who lived in a neighbouring village, from whom he managed
to get a pressing invitation in order to account for his dqwrture to
Camilla. Bash, foolish Anselmo 1 what art thou doingf Plottbg
thine own dishonour, contriving thine own ruin ! Thoa art in tran-
quil possession of a virtnons wife ; the sole object of her affections,
and under heaven her only guide 1 Tiius blessed by the treasures of
honour, heaaty, and virtue, why do j-ou madly endanger themP
Consider that De who seeks after what is impossible, ought injustice

"tHB C0M0O8 niFEETIHEMT." 177

to tw denied what is possible ; as a oert^ poet bu better expreued
It in tuese rerses: —

Iq death alnne I Bfo would End

Anri health in racking pain ;
Pair honour in & traitor'» mind.

Or fnodom to s chain.

But ÚDoe T udt «hri ne'er gan be.

The Fatas, tira ! dooid»,
What they would eise have granted me,

Shall erar be denied.

Anselmo, on leayingliome, told Camilla tLat Lothario Tooldtaie
oharse of tlie house during his absence, and lie desired she would
treat hini_a8 his omi person. _ThB discreet and virtuous nife did not
"Bsented to him the impropriety rf
ble when he was absent ; and she
ist the charge of the boosehold to
£Dt to the oho^e. Aoseliaa, how-
nd Camilla was compelled to ;íeld

ture, Lothario vent to his honse^
«t reception from Can¡illa, who, to
as constantly attended by her ser-
aa Leonela, to whom she had be^
d»yi passed, and Lotbario had pot

was not without opportnnities,
:\iB servants at their dinner-tima.
r mistress to dine fint, so that she
16 had her owa entragenient^ aod
nding the orders of her mistnas.
: CamilU and the ¡iropriety of her
ae ; but the influence of ber virtoe
it the more dan^rous; for if bis
re in motioo, and be bad leisure to
her mind and ORrson, which oonld
t of marble. This silent but daa.
lerminad his fidelity to Anselmo ¡
retirinff from the city, and absent-
lilla and liis friend ; but the jje&.
w still detained liim. Uan^ wejre
ist the delight bo felt in gaxina oa
lached himself fur being so Jaue «
!(, on considering the conduct of
xocoded his own perfidy, be only
ie betbro God as before moo. lu
imilla together with the opporto.
land had forced npon him, quite
. after maintaioing a hard oonfliot
1, he became regardless of everf-
: Dent meeting, therefore, he begwt

— .L .f ■_.. 'juitshewM

BT seat, and

A.OOgK

irmth of expression, tluít she was
ly reply rose (torn ner seat, and

retirad to her chamber. But tet frigidity did not diaconrago iw
loier, for hope is ever born with love ; he ojúy grew mote aida^ la
the mean time, CWilla, ihinltins it ininroper to give him anoth»
oppoitunitf of addreasm<( her, despatcbed a mesaenecr the same night
'- ' —-'",0 with the ioliowing tetter;—

CHAPTER XXXIV.

In vhich « emtiraud " Th* Jfoftí r^ íAe Curünu Impirtitift."
"CUílLLi TO íHSÍLMO.

"CaatiiBS should not he left without aovetnors, nor anniea without

genera ; but it is worse for a young »'Se to be left without her hu»-
baiid. I find it so impossible to enduce your abscoce aziy lonacr, that
if you do not return immediatelv I must retieat to my tathera house,
though 1 leave >'out3 unguardea ; for he whom you left as a protector
ia, Ibelievc, more iuiect upoa his own pleasure than jour mteteffta.
\aa are prudent, so I need say no more."

Anselino reoeived this letter, and understood hf it that Lothano
hod beKun Oie attack, and that Camilla must have received it accord-
iaa to His wi^. Overjoyed at this good neus, he sent Camilla a vei-
bu message, deah'ine her not to remove from her house upon any
account, for he would leturK Tcry speedily. Camilla was surprised
at this ADBwer, which only increased her pc^ilezity ; for now she was
equally afraid to remain in her own house, and to retire to that of her
parents i since by staying hei' virtue was endangered, and by deport-
mgsbe would act ootUnuy to her husband's positive commands. Her
final det«rminatJou proved iha worst, wliicli was to stay and not shun
Lothario, lest it might eiclk the observation of the servants ; and she
now regretted li&viog written to her husband, lest he sjiould suspect
that some impropriety in her conduct bad encouraged Lotbano to
trait her with disrespect. But conscious of her own integrity, she
tzuated in God and licr own virtnej resolving by her silence to dis-
courage IjQthario, without communicating any mure (m the sui^^t to
her husband, lest it should involve bim in a quarrel. She eveu oegan
to consider kuw she might excuse Lothono to A.n.selmo when he
idiould ioQuire into the meaning of ber letter.

With this determination, more honourable than prudent, the next
day she quietly heard what Lothario had to say ; and he pleaded with
so much energy, that the Smmess of Caoiilk began to waver, and her
virtue could Imrdly prevent her eyes from showing some indications
of amorous compassion. This was not lost upon him, and it only
tended to increitsc the ardour of his passion. He resolved to presa
Ike siege, while tmio and opportunity served; and he employed
■igiúiist her the powerful engine of ^tcry ; thus assailing her in the
most vulnerable part of woman — her vanity. In fact, he undermined
Ihc fortress of her virtue, and directed a^nst it so irresistible a force
that had she been made of brass fihe must have fallen. Ue wept,
A.OOgIC

JJCTKITIMBKT." 17Í

entreated, flatlered, uid «dicited, with aucb vdiemenoe of passioi^
■that he ?radii(tl|v oTercane hei- rcaerre, and flully obtaiiud a triumph.
She snrretidered — ;es, eren ComiiltiBDrreadered I No wonder, nbsB
Lothario's friendthip could not stmd ita ^ond ! A clear proof that
thepassionof love is to be conquered bv flight alone; that it is vain to
contend with a power which, though human, reqoiree more thui
human stren^ to subdue it.

Leonela alone was priiy to hor lady's frajlty, for it was impossible
to have concealed it from her. Lothario never told Camilla of her
husband's project, and of his haTinK pnrposely afibrded bm the oppor-
tunity of addressmg her, lest ahe snouid doubt his sincerity, or set less
value on his passion.

After some davs, Anielmo returned, little tUnldng he had lost a
biasure which, though least gutuiied, he most valued. He repaired
instantly to Lothario, andenibracing him, inquired for the news which
was to decide his fate. "The news I have for you, O friend
Anselmo," said Lothario, "is that you have a wife writhy to be tbe
model and crown of all good women. My words were thrown lo the
■wind ; my offers hare been despiaed, my preaenls refused, and the
tears I fo^ed treated with ridicule. In short, as Camilla is the sum
of ol! beauty, so is she of goodness, modesty, and every virtue which
can make a woman praiseworthy and happy. Therefore, friend, take
bark your money; here it is: I had no occasion to use it; for
Camilla's integrity is not to be shaken by anything so base. Se satis-
8ed, Anselmo, and since you have safely pa¿ed the gulf of suspicion,
do not hazard fresh trials on thedangcronsocean, bat reet seeurelyin
harbour until yon are required to pay that tribute from which ito
human being is eiempted.

Anselmo was entirely satisfied with Lothario's report, to which he
p\\e as much credit as if it had been debvered by an oracle. Nev«.
thplcss, he desired him not entirely to give np the pnrsnjt, were it
only out of curiosity and amusement ; though it would not be nccet-
sary lo ply her 30 closely as before ; all that he now desired of him
was fo writp verses in her praise, nnder the name of Cldoris ; and he
would give 'Camilb to iinderstand that he was in lore withakdv, to
whom he had given that name, that ite might celebrate her witbont
offending her modesty j he even engaged to write the verses himself,
if Lothario was unwilhng to take that trouble. "There will bono
liGed of that," said Lothario : " for the Unses are not so nnpropitíous
to me hnt tiiat now and then they make me a visit. Tel! Camilla of
my counterfeit passion, and leave the verses to mo ; which, if not so

fiod as the subject deserves, shall at least be the best I can make."
his agreement being concluded between the curious husband and the
treiichcrons friend, the former returned home and inquired of Camilla,
as she had eipecled, tbe occasion of her writing the letter which she
sent him. Camilla answered that she then fancied Lothario treated
her with rather more freedom than when he was at home : but that
she now believed it to have been merely imaginary on her part ; for,
indeed, of late lie hod avoided seein<; and bein^ alone with her.
Ansohno replied that she might di^^miss all suspicion; for. to his
tnowlcdge, Lothario was in love with a young lady of oondition in
the city, wliom be celebrated under the name of Cfdorisj and, even
were it not so, slie had nothing to fear, considering Lothario's virtue
ind the great friendship tlutt subsiated between tiiem. Had not
»8 n , .. A-OO^^IC

180 SOK «DTXOTE.

Camilla been advertised by Lotbono that Ous story of bis love for
Chlnris was all a fiction, wnich be bad íovented merel; to obtain an
opportnnit; of indulging ia praises of lierself, she -would 'doabtlcss
have been seized -witb a ñt of jeakmsv; bat bariog been thus pre-
pared, ahe felt no uneasiness on the sumecC,

Tbe neit da^, as they were at table together, Anselmo desired
Ijothario to recite some of the verses he had composed on bis beloved
Ciiloris ; for, since she was unknown to CamUla, be need not scruple
to repeat them.

"Even were she not unknown," answered Lothario, "1 would not
conce^ the praises which are her due ; for when & lover couipt^ns of
bis mistreaa, while he entola her perfections, he casts no reproach upon
ber good name. I will, therefore, without scruple read to you this
Bonnet, which I composed yesterdÁf , on the ingratitude of Chloris : —

SONNET.

at „ .
'd in Bolt ropoae,
1 Da sau account di my Doslooted voes
To oonscious heaven oni Chloris I recite.
And when the sun, with his returning light.
Forth fhnn tbe oaet his mdiant journey goes.
With accenti such a» sorrow only know»
Hy griebto tall la all my poordohght.
And when brleht Fbabus Trom hn atartj throne

Sandi raya direct upon tJie parolied aoil,
""" 'a Hie moum&il tale I psserere ;

' ig night rsnewB my sorrow's toil ;

n to night 1 weep and m —

ioris my complamings hi

CamillA was very well pleased with the sonnet, and Anselmo was
lavish in his commendation, declaring- that tbe Udy was too cruel not
to reward so much truth. " What then !" rcphed CsmilliL " ate we
to takeall that the enamoured poets tell us for truth?" "Whatever
they mw say as poets," answered Lothario, "certainly as lovers they
apeak the truth, and eipress atili lesa than they feel." " Undoubt-
ealj," said Anselmo ; wbo was ready to confirm all Lothario said, to
advance his credit with Canalla ; bat this compkcency in her husband
she did not observe, being engrossed by her passion for Lothario.
And, taking pleasure in hearing his verses (especially as she was coo-
BCious of being herself the Chloris to whom they were addressed), she
requested him. if he could recollect any others to repeat them. " I
do recollect another," replied Lothario, " but I fear it is even worse
than the one you have just beard; however, jon shall judge for your-
self;—

SONNET.
"Believe me, nrmph, I feel th' Impenditig blow.
And glory in the near approach of doith ;
For, when Ihou aee'st my oorse deToid of braath.
My CDHstanoy and tnith thou wire wilt know.
Welooma to ma Oblivion'* abada oberaire ',
Weloomo the loes of (brtuno, life und fiune I
But thy tored featiuv». and thy hinuHir'd name,
Decf graven on my hoart, shall eUU mdure.

TES CDXI0U8 IHFEKTIHBST." 181

" And thaw, M «upred nuca, win I keep

Till tlkat Bad momcnf when to endless night
My lung-tonnented booI shall take ber flight.
Alas fbr him icho on the dnrkan'd deep
Fbata Idl?, sport of the tempostuoiu tide.
So port to ahield him, and no star to guldo I "

Aoscloio commended this seccmd sonnet sa mncb as lie !i^ done the
first: aud thus he went on labouring to secure bis own shame and
adding fresh links to the chain of his infimiv : and the more tlie lover
triumphed, the more he assured the husDand of his unblemished
honour. Thus the lower Camilla sunk into the ahjss of infimv, the
higher she rose in her husband's opinion toirards the pinnacle of vii-
tue and honour.

One day when Camilla was alone with her maid she said to her, "I
&m ashamed, Leoncia, to think how little value I placed upon mvself
in allowing Lothario so soon to gain the entire possesaton of my
heart; I fear he will look upon my easy surrender aa the effect oí
levity, without reflecting on his own rcaiatlesa power." "Dear
madaai," answered Leoiiela, "let not this trouble you, for there is
nothing in it : a gift, if it be worth anything, ¡a not worse far bcinK
Boon given : aud llierefore they say he who pves quickly gives twice."
" But they say also," retumea Camilla, " that which is Lf^htly gained
¡a little valued." "Tliis does not affect
Leonela; "for love, as I have heard eay, s<
times wwks — runa with one person, and goei
some he warms, and some he bums ; gome hi
kills : in one and the same instant he forma i
jecls. He often ¡n the morniog lays siege t
evening Barrendera to him— for no force la a1
then are you afraid of, if this was the cbjic wi
tw's ¿)senoe was instrumental tu lore'a suc<
^ lost, for love has no better minister than
well acquainted with, from experience rathe
day or other, madun, I may let you see that
and blood. Beside*, madam, j'ou did not yie
in his eyes, in liia sigha, in ins c:ípres3Íotis,

E resents, tlie whole aoul of Lothano, and ho'
ive i then lot not these scruples and nicet
assured Lothario esteems you no less than
satisfied that, since vou have fallen into the a
person of worth ana character, and one whc
raor SS.* which, they say, all true lovers ougl
dphabct. Do but hear me, and you shall se<
He is, if I am not mistaken, amiable, boiu
enamoured, faithful, gallant, honourable, illuj
noble, obliging, prudent, quielj rich, ana the

true, valiant^ ftnd wise; tne i suita him no., __

etter ; the ¥, he is young ; the Z, zealous of your honour."

Camilk smiled at this alphabet of ber maid, whom she found to be
more conversant in love-matters than she hod hitlierto owned ; and
ndeed she now confessed to her that she had an tJSait with a yonng

* fiabio, solo, Eolioito j seoroto.

1» VON «lllXOTB.

Bentleman of ttie same city. At this Camilla was mnch distoríwd,
iMirins lest from that quarter her own honour might be in daapn;
she therefore inquired whether her amour had gone farther than
words. Leonela, with the utmost assurance, owned that it had; far
it is certain that the slips of the mistress take all shame from the
inait!, who, whea her mistress makes a false step, thinks nothing of
downrigtit hailing, and takes no trouble to conceal it. Camilla could
onl)' entreat Leonela to say nothii.fr of her affair to her lover, and to
mana^ her own coneema with SMch secrecy that it might not coma
to the knowledge of Anselmo or of Lothano. Leonela promised to
be careful ; nercrtliejesa. Camilla's fears were verified, for the shame-
less girl, when she fouua that her mistress's conduct was not what it
had befn, made bold to introduce and conceal her lover in the house,
presuming that her lady would not dare to comphun if she shotili
ttiscovcr it. For this inconvenience, among others, attends the mis-
condact of mistresses : they become slaves to their own servants,
whose dishonesty and lewdness they are compelled to conceal. ITius
it was with Camilla ; for tliough she frequently saw that liconela
entertained her gallant in the house, so far from dariu'- to chide her,
she gave her opportunities of secretins hiro, and did all she could to
prevent him fern being seen by her husband, iet, notwithstAndiny
lier precautions, Lothario once discovered him retreating from the
house at break of day. At first he thought it mast be some vision of
his fancy; but when he saw him steal off, muffling himself np, and
endeavouring to conceal himself, snspiclona succeeded which would
have been the roin of them idl had it not been averted by Camilla.
It never occurred toLothario that the man whom he had seen coming
ont of Anselmo's house at so unseasonable an hour might have gone
hither npon Iieoncla's account; he did not even remember that there
was suca a person in the woria ; but he tliougiit that Camilla, as she
had beefl easy and complying- to him, was not less so to anotiicr; for
a woman always loses, with her virtue, the confidence even of the man
to whose entreaties and solicitations she surrendered her honour ; and
he is ready to beheve, upon the slightest groimds, that she yields to
others even with greater facility.

All Lothario's good !ense and prudence seemed to have failed him
npon this occasion; for, without a moment's rational reflection,
bunded with jealous rafre, and fnrious to be revensed on Camilla, who
had offended him in nothmg, he liastened to Anselmo. " My friend,"
he saii " I can no longer forbear communicating fit you what for
some days past I have been strttKlinff to conceal. Your wife,
Anselmo, auomita to my will and pleasure. One of my motives for
delaying to tell you was my uncertainty whether I'le was reslli
culpable, or only meant to try whether the love 1 professed was with
yourconnivance, or in earnest; inwbiclicaseshewonid have informed
yon of my attcnipts npon her ; but finding she has been silent to you
on the suDJcct, Imnst conclude that she is serious tn her promises to
grant me an interview in the wardrobe the next time ^d are absent
from home. However, as the fault is committed only in thought, do
not rashly seek to revenge yourself, for before the «ppoiuled time

"tee CÜSTOOa IvrBBTINSNT." 188

tot some dafi, uid oonoeal yonneir behiod the tapest^ in Uie vard-
robf^ where you may be convinced by jout own eyesof Ganiilla's real
«atimenta, and if they «re evil you may then sDcroLl; and quietly
arenge yonr wrones-"

Aiuelmo was struck aghast at Iiothario's intellii^oe, for already
he kxded upon her viotoi7 as complete. Mid beean to enjoy the 8^017
«f her tnomph. For some time be remained with his eyes Qied
motionless ao the ground ; at length he aaid, " Lothario, you have
acted the friendly part I requirea of you ; I will now be guided by
yoor advice in everythii^^ao what yuu will, onl^ be cautious to
preserve secrecy." Lothario satisfirai him By hia prouii^es; hot
HCaTMly had he quitted him when he began to be Ecnsible of the foUy
of bis conduct, and to reeret that he bad taken so cruel and uumanly
k way to reienge himself on Camilla. He oorsed his senseless im-
mtuotitv, and felt quite at a lose bow to act in such 11 dilemma,
finally uc resolved to confeai all to Camilla; and on the eiune day
OCHttrived to see her alone. " Ah, my dear Xiotliarin," she cxctaimei^
immediately on ins entrance ; " I am overwhelmed with anxiety ; for
Leonela'a impudence ia now oairied to such a height that, she eot«r-
taioB her gallant every nigiit ¡n the house, and he slays with her until
delight, to the imminent danger of my reputation, which is exposed
to the smpicioD» of tboee who may chance to see bnn leave the honM
at such unseasonable hours ; and what grieves me is this, that I ova-
not chastise, m»' even reprimand her, for tiiough I am alarmed at her
conduct^ X am wunpdied to- bear it in ailcnae, as she is in out

Lothario at first suspected that this was sU artiOce in Camilla to
deceive him, in case he bad seen the man going out of the bouse : but
he was soon convinced of her stnoerity, and felt ashamed and full
of remoTM at bis unjust suspicions. However, bo endeavoured to
tranqnilliso Camilla, and promised to curb Leonela'a insolence. Ha
then confessed to her toe fnnoaa fit of jealousy that had taken
pcesession of him, and what had passed betweou Anselmo and himself
wliile be was under its influence. He entreated her to pardon hia
madness, and to-devise some means of averting the mischief b which
his laabness bad involved t.bem both. Camilla was surprised on
heuinK Lothario's confession, and expressed no little resentment
towards him for having liariioared such unworthy suspicions of her,
as well OS for the rash and inconsiderate sti:p he hud taJicn. But she
faistantly thought of an expedient to rep^ the state of their affairs,
whieil at present seemed ao desperate ; for women have naturally a
ready invention, either for good or evil, thoush thev are not ciuaHj'
siKxissfiil in their premeditated schemes. She desired Lothario to
introduoe her husband to the appointed ¡ilace of concealment the
ftJkiwin^ day, in pursnance of a ¿Ian by which she proposed to facili-
tate their future intercourse ; ana, witbont letting him into the whole
of her design, she on)r desired him, after Anselmo was posted, to be
ready at Leonela'e call, and to answer whatever she should sav to him,
iust as be would do if he were unconscious that Anselmo wa*
listening. Lothario pressed her to explain 1u him her whole design,
that ha might be the better prepiuea. " No other preiiaration is
necwsary," replied Camilla; "you have only (o give inc direct «nswer»."
She was unwilling to impart to him the whole design, lest he should
fndfltyectiOBBtoit.

A.OOgIC

181 sos ^UIXOTS.

Lothario tlien left Lor ; and the nest da; Atuelmo, ancler pretcnM
of going to his friend's villa, ncut from home, but immeclistclf
tetarncd to his hiding-pliicc, where he remained in a stale oí Titileut
perturbation, aa moy readily be imagined, since he thought himself on
the pomt of witnessing his own dishonour uid losing that treasure
vhich he hod fancied he possessed ia his beloved CamlUa. 1'he
mistress and mud having nsccrtained that Anselnio iraa bcliind the
hangiusSi entered the wardrobe together, when Camilla, heaving a
deep sigh, said, " Ah, mv Leonela, would it not be better yon should
plunge Aiselmo's sword into this infamous bosom P But no !— why
should I alone he punislied for another's fault P IwiU firat know
what the insolent LothEuio saw in me to encourage hini to make so
wicked an attempt against my honour and tliat of his friend, (¡a
to the window, Leonela, and call him ; for I doubt not bnt that lie is
waiting in the street, in eipectatiou of aucceedinj; in his atrocious
design— but my purpose shall sooner be executed." "Ah, dear
madam !" cried the sjtfal Leonela, " what do you mean to do with
that dagger? Is it to be used against yourself or Lothario P In
either case both your reputation and mine will suffer. Bear the insult
be has offered you, rather than let this wicked man into the house
now th^ we are alone. Ckinsider, madam, we are helpless women,
and he is a strong man, bent upon a villanous purpose ; and before
you could effect yours be might ¿o worse thau deprive you of life. A
mischief take my master Anselmo, for giving this impudent felW»uch
an ascendancy in his house ! Bat pray, ma<^m, if you kill him— wiiich
E is your inlcntion— what shall we do with his bodvP"
ny fnend?" answered Camilla; "why, leave him here for
to inter, for it is bnt just he should have tlie satisfiiotiim of
is own infamy. Call him immediately j for every moment's
my revenge is an offence against that loyalty I owe to my

this Anselmo listened^ and every word spoken by CRmilla
intended effect upon him; and when she talked of killing
he was on the point of coming fortli to prevent it. but was
by the strong desire he had to see the end of so gallant and
TÍrtuous a resolution ¡ intending, however, to appear in time to pre-
vent mischief. Camilla was in the next place taken with a stiong
faintinjr-fít, and throwing herself upon a couch, Leonela began to
weep bitterly, eiclaiming, "Ah, woe is me! that the flower (rf virtue,
the crown of ^ood women, the pattern of chastity, should die liero in
my arms I" with other such expressions which might well have made
her pass, with whoever heard them, for the most virtuous and faithful
damsel in the universe, and her lady for another pcrseonted Pcneltqie.
Camilla having recovered from her swoon, said. Why do you not go,
Iieonela, and call the most faithless friend that ever existed F Be
quick, run, fly — let not the fire of my i^e evaporate by delay, and my
just vengeance be spent in empty threats and curses!" "lani going
to call liim," said Leonela; hnt, dear madam, you must first (tive
roe that dagger, lest, when 1 am gone, you should give those who lore
jou cause to weep all their lives." "(Jo, dear Leonela, and fear
not," said Camilla : " I will not do it : for though I am resolute in
defendii^ my honour, I shall not act like Lucretia, who is said to
have killed herself without having committed any funh, and without
first takkg his Ufe who was the cause of her misfortune. Yea, I

, , . .A.OOgIC

"the CVRIOüa HtPESTISBST.

víU die, die I most ; but it abül be after I hsT« satiated uf rerenge
on liim vho has insulted ni« without provocation."
iJlet much entreatjF^ Leonela obe|ed', and while she iras awaT,

ladeoeiTe hun P Surelj', it would ; but then I should go nnrevenged,
our would nijr husband's honour be satisfied if he were to escape with
impunitf . Txo I let the traitor pay fur his iosoleuce with his life I
and if ever the affair be known, Camilla sh.-ill be vindiistcd to the
world. It mif;ht, indeed, bare been bctt<?r to Lave disclosed all to
Anselmo, but he disregnrded my bints— his own oonSding nature
would not admit of a tliought prejudiraal to Ms friend. Scarcolf
could I trust my own seoses when he first declared himself. Sut
wherefore do I talk, tbos ? M.J resolution is taken— Yes, vengeance
on the traitor I Let him die ! Unspotted lay husband received me
to bi* anns, and unspotted I will leave him, though bathed in my own
Uood and that of the falsest of frienda." She now paced about the,
room with the drawn daggei in ber band, taking such iiregnlar and
huse itridetb and wkb such gestures, that ber brain seemed di»-
OTMral, asd ake was more li^ a desperate ruffian than a delicata
vodmh.

All this Anselmo observed with amazement &om behind the airas,
and tbinkiog that what ha had witnessed was sufficient to dispel
doubts still greater than those he had entertained, he began to wish
that Lotbanomiebt not come, for fear of some fatal accident, and was
upon the i^oint oi rushiuj^ out to clasp bis wife in bis arms, when he
waa prevoLted h; the return of Leonela, accompanied b; Lothario ;
npon wboae entisnoe Camilla drew with the dagger a long line
b^ween them, and said ; " Observe, Lothario, if yon due to pasa tbat
line I will instantly pierce mv breast with this dagger. But listen to
what'I have to s»; to yon. la ttfe first place tell me, Lothario, do
~" know Auaelmo, my husband, and in wliat estimation do yon hold

? Tell me also whether you know me ? Answer me at once —

for tbMB are aitaple queetiuns." Lotliorio easily comprehended her
dtsigiV andaeoorotngly humoured it, so that they managed tiie whole
Bcentt adminjil]' togelhra. " I did not imagine, fair Camilla," lie
replied, " that you called me to (uiswer to tilings so foreign to the

Suryoae for which I came hither. If it be to delay the promised
kVtHV, why not have adjourned it to a still farther d^ ?— for the nearer
the proepeot of posaession, the more eager we are for the enjoyment.
In HMwer to your questiuus, I say that I have known your husband
Anoelmo from infancy ; of our friendship I will say nothing, that
'' ' "" — "' '~-' " -'•'-- -FTong whict '"~ " ^

JW

I may not be witness against myself of the wrong which love-

powerful exooie for greater buits--compels me to commit against
nim. lou, too, I know, and adore—for less excellence I should
not have transgressed the htws of friendship, which are now violated
by ita potent adversary, love." " If you acknowledge so much,"
rephed Camilla, " thou mortal enemy of all deserving love ! how
dim you ^4>ear before me— the beloved of Anselmo, whom without
pioróeation yon injure f But, tdas I unhappy creature that I am I
perhapa ttno(»Bciously I may have encouraged yonr presumption, not
by inuMdnb, hot thrw^h some inadvertency into which a woman
uuv Hmeeenily fell when she ccnoaTes no reserve to be tteoeasary.
A.OOgIC

Bnts!

and four presents rejected with scorn P Still I talie hiame to myseU
fot íaving moved j'ou to socrimiuftl on »ttf mpt, and I cannot acquit
myself of indiscretion, since yoa hsTe nourished hope ; I will, there-
fore, suffer tlie punishment due to your offence, and haTe hroui^ht yon
hitlier to witness the sacrifice I intend to make to the wounded
honour of my worthy hushand,' who by yon has been driibernteiy
injured; and, alas! by me also, through nesl'Cence; the thou^tof
waich ia so RgcHiizins to me that I «m impatient to become my own
executioner. Yea, I will die ! but not withoat rerenmias my¿airon
hoD who has reduced me to this state of desperation ! "

At these wotda she' Hew upon Lothario wiLh the drawn dagger
with such incredible foroe and velocilty, and apparently so determined
to atob him to the heart, that he was atmost in doubt himself whether
her^rts were feigned or real, koA he was obtíjed to exert all his
dexterity to escape a wound : indeed, she acted so mueh ta t)ie ufe
that she aotmdty shed her own blood. iFicdinar, or rather fdnting,
that she was unable to stab I^thario, she exclaimed, " Thougii fat»
deiies me complete satisfaction, it shtU not disappoint me of one part
of my revenge!" Then, forcibly releaainR her dastRer-haad from the
grasp of Lothsiio, she directed tbe point sgainst herself (beinc, Imw-
erer, careful in her choice of* the part); and haviiiK wmmded beroolf
on tbe left side, near the shoidder, she fell, as if (hintini;, to tbe
groond. Leonela and Lothario stood in amaicment at this «ictira^
»B¿ knew not what ta think when they saw Camilla lyin^ on tke floor
batbed in her own blood.- Lothorio ran up to her, tetrifled aui
brefttbiess, to draw out the daeper ; but on pereeivinp the sli)Atno3B
of the wouHd, his fears'Tsnisiied, and he admired thc'sa^niei^i PHf
dence, and ingenuity of the fair Camillas And now he took no his
^[t, and besan to make i most pathetic lamentation over the bod7-of
Camilla, as if she were* dead ; imprecriing lieaty curses, not only oil
Umself, but on him who had beeii the caase of this disaster : 'his
grief, in short, appeared so inconsolable, that 'he seemed an objeot
eren of crealer oompassion than Camilla herself, Leonel» toot her
lady in her arms, and ¡aid her on the couch, heseecbinr Lothan»
secretly to procore medical aid. She also desired bis advioe as ta
what they shouM say to Anselmo, if he should return before tha
wound was healed. He answered that they might say «hat they
pleased, for he was not in a condition to give advine ; ul he desired
vaa that she would endesvour to stanch the blood : as for hiraseJ^
be would go where he sliould never bo-seen more. Then, with erary
demonstration of sorttw,' he left tbe boa-ie; and when-be found him-
self alone and oat of si^lif be never ceased crossing himself in amas»-
' it the infrenuity of Camilla and the art of Leoneta. He amused

himself too in thinking of Anselmo'»' happfeertaiiity of posseuin» in
his wife a second Portia, and w«s impatient to be with him, uat
they mi^ ngoioe at the most complete imposture thet •eveT'Wsi

practised.
Leonela sisnched her mistress's blood, of yrMA there was inst

enouzh to give effect to her strata!!:em ; and trashinir the wouiid with
a little wine, she bound it up as well as she ceuld. In the mean MnM
her expressions were such as might alone have convinced Anselmo
that in Camilla be possessed a model of chastity - and CunilLi too now

A.OOgIC

"isB cvnoTM BmuEmrxni." 1S7

uttered some words reproachii^ hewalf for & defioieney of ooowffe uid
spirit in baving &iled ID ridding henelf of a life she 90 much abborred.

She «sked ber maid's adulce, whetber or not sbe should reUt« what
bad happened to her beloved spouse. Lsonela perstutded her to say
nothing ftbout it, smce it would oblige him to tsJic revenue oa
Lotliiuio, wbioh be could Dot do without f^real danger to himselr; and
that it was the duty of a good wife to avuid every oemsíon of involv-
i«i hwlmsband'in a quarrel. Cumilla approved her advice, and said
she would follow it; but tliat they nrnst eonsider wbat to Bay to
Arreelnio thoat the wound ; wjiiob he could not fail to observe. To
vJHob Leonela answered, that for her part she could BOt tell a lie eren
injcst. ''How then can l?"saidCamilhL "who neither codd invent,
sorpenist in one, if it were to aavt my life Pifa good excuse cannot
be ooDtrived, it will be better to tell bim the naked truth than be
cauf^t in a fabebood." " Do b(A bo uneasy, madarn," answered
Lewiela- "for betweea this and to-merrow mominx I will consider
ttf aomctliin^ to4«li.hiin; and perhaps vou may be able to conceal the
would from hii sight, aád Heaven will befriend us. Compose your-
■elf, good madam ; cudeavmuto quiet your spirits, that my master
i»KT not Gnd'TOn in each agitation : and leave tbe rest to my care, and
toHeaven, whii^ ^ays favoors the honest purpose."

&s death of 'his hononr; ia whidi tbe actori performed with somneh
eipreasioa and "pathos that they seemed tranafoirned into the very
(^■raoters they penonated. He longed for night, that he might have
sa oppoTtanity of slipping out of hia honae 'Id sec his dear frieod,
Lothsiio, and r^oice witb bin on finding so precious a jewe), by tbe
b^py devebpment of his wife's virtue. They both took care to give
hka aaopportnuity to retreitj of which ho instantly availed himself,
t» hasten in sewch of Lnthano;- and on their meeting, his embraces
were innumerable, and his'pruses oÍ Camilla onbouuded. All which
Lothaño listened to without being able to testify any j(^-, for ho
ooiüd not but retlect how much kis friend was deceived, and bow
iBigenerotisly he-wa» treated. Anselmo perceived -that Lotliario did
Dot express any pleasure, but he asoribed it to Camilla'a wound, of
vhic^ te had benithe occasicn. Ue therefore desired Mm not to ba
Bnhappy about Camilla, as the wound must -^ slight, since she and
her inaui had agreed to hide it- from Inm ; he might then be assured
ttuit ther» was no cause tor alarm, hnt much for joy ; for that by bis
teandly exertions he wa» elevated to tbe hishest «ummit of human.
Citliinty ; and he desired no better amusement than to write verses in
pniie of Camilla, to perpetuate ber memcTy to ail future ag^.
Lottaano oommeiided his reeolution, and protmsed his asaistance in
the exeontion of so meritorions a woit

Thus Anselmo remained the most agreeably deceived maa that ever
existed. Ue led home under his arm the instrument, as he thought,
of hia glory, but in truth, his banc; who was received by Camilla with
«frowning- aspect, but a joyful heart. This imposture lasted for a
few months, when Tortane tuminp her wheel the iniquity hitbaito
90 artfnity concealed came to L[;ht, and Anselmo's impertinent
it hink his life.

A.OO'^lc

SON «tüIZOIB.

CHAPTER XXXV.

The novel vas uearlv finislied, wiien Suiclio Fanu, full of ^simf,
canie mnniiiK out of Don Quixote's chamber, crying alaud, " Hun,
gentlemen, quickly, and snocour my master, wlio is over head ana
feti in the toughest battle my eyes ever bclield. As Guri shall save
me, be has given the eiant, tfiat enemy of tiie Princess MicomiconL
such a stroke that be oas cut bis bead as clean off his shoulders as if
it bad been a turnip !" "What say you, brother P" qnoth the priest,
lajing aside the Bovel. " Are you in yonr senses, Sancho F How can
this possibly be, since the giant is two thousand lea^ies ofTF" At
that instant they heard a frreal noise in the room, and Ikn Quixote
calling: akiud, " Stay, cowardly thief 1 ttibber ! rogue I Hero 1 have
you, and your soimitar shall avail jou nothing !" 'Hien followed tbe
sound of strokes and alashes against tlie walls. " Do not aland
listening-," quoth Sancho, " bnt go in and end the tray, or help my
master ; though by this time there will be no occasion ; as I dare say
the giant is dead, and giving an account to God of his past wickM
life ; for I saw tbe blood run about t!ie door, and tho l¿ad out ofT,
lyiiw aa one aide, and as big as a wine-skin." " I will be hanged,"
exclaimed the innkeeper, " if Don Quixote, or Don Devil, has not
gashed some of the wine-skjns Uiat hung at his bed's-head; and the
wine he has ^ilt this fellow takes for blood." So saying, be rushed
into the room, followed by the n'hole company ; and they found Dos
Quiiote in the strangest situation imaginable. Uc was in bis shiit,
and on his bead a bttle greasy red oap which belonged to tbe inn-
keeper. About his left arm benad twisted tbe bed-blanket (to which
S»ncho ow«d a grudge— he well knew whyX and in his right hand he
held his drawn sword, with vbi(^ be was laying about him on all
EÍdca,callinKoiitaaif in actnal combat; bis eyes were shut, bein^ still
asieef), and dreaming that he .was engaged in battle with the giant:
foi' lus mind was eo full of the adventure which he bad undertaken
tliat be dreamt that, having reached the kingdom of Micomicon and
engaged in combat with bis enemy, he was clearing the giant down
with a stroke that also proved fatal to the wine-skins, ¿ad set ttie
whole room aUoat with wme. The innkeeper seriiui this, was in such
a tnge, that with his clencbed fists he fell so furiously upon Don
Quixote, that if Gardenia and the priest bad not taken liim off, be
would have put an end to the war of the giant. 'ITie barber secÍBjt
that the poor gentleman was not awake, he Drought a large bucket of
cold water, with which he soused him all over; and even that ablu-
tion did not restore him so entirely as to make him sensible of his
situation. Dorothea percoivmg how scantily he was arrayed, would
not stay to see the fight between her champion and his adversary.
Sanoho saarohed abo"' '"" """ '"" ■""' """ "' "' """ ~-"' """"■ — '
finding it, he said, "

BATTIA WnH TBI

honae ii enc^antmant : for the last time I was here I had thumps and
blowa giren me io this Terv same placo bjr an inTJsible hand ; and nov
the head is viuiahed, vliicli I uiw cut off with mj' own eyes, and the
blood spouting from the body like any fountain." "What blood, and
what fountain? thou euemj to God and hia saints!" «aid the inn-
keeper ; " dost thou not see, fellow, that the blood and the fountain
arc nothing but these skins ripped open, and the red vine floating
tbont the room? Perdition catch his son) that pierced them!" " So
much the worse for me," said Sancho^ " for want of this head, I shall
see my earldom melt away like salt in water." Thns Saneho awake
*B8 as wise as Don Quixote asleep, his head bein^ quite tnmed hy
his master's promises. The innkeeper bst all patience at the indif-
ference of the squire and the miscliievous havoc of the knight; and
he swore they should not escape, as they did before, without pa^in^t
and tjtat the prinlc^ee of his chivalry shonld not exempt him ttiis
time from disátarging both reckonings, eren to the patching of the

Don Qiiiiote (whose hands were held by (he priest) now conceiv-
ing the adventure tn be finished, and that ne was in the presence of
the princess Micomioon^ fell on his knees before the priest, and said,
" High and renowned lady, joor highness may henoefbrward live
secure oí harm from that ill-bom wretch, I have now discharged the
IHOmise I gave yon. since, by the asaistance of Heaven, and thrwirfi
the favonr of her by whom I live and breathe, I have so happuv
■coompiished the enterprise." "Did not I tell jou so?" quotn
Smeho, hearing this : yoD see I was not dniuk—look if my master
bus not already put the giant in pickle ! Here are the bnlfa ! ■ my
earldom is cock -sure," Who could help laughing at the absurdities n
eoth iaast«r and man ? They were all diverted esc^t the innkeeper,
«ho swore tike a trooper. At lenrlh the barber, Cardenio, and the
priest, with much difficulty, gijt l>on Quixot« upon his bed again,
where, exhausted with his labour, he slept soundly. They lett him
to his repose, and went ont to the inn.door, trying to comfort Sancho
for his disappointment in not flnding the giant's head ; but they had
mocrt troable in pacifying the innkeeper, who was in despair at the
imtmely death of his wme-skins. The hostess grumbled too, mut-
tering to herself : " In an evil honr this knight-enant came into my
bouse! O that I had never set my eye* on him, for he has been a
deu Rnest to me 1 The last time be went away without paying his
night'a reckoning for supper, bod, itraw, and barley, for himself,
scroire. Ida horse and ass ; telling us, forsooth, that he was a knieht-
■oventarer— evil befal hhn. and iJi tne adventurers in the world ! —
nd so Ke wm not obligea to pay anything, according to the rales
of knigbt«rTsntry. It was on his account, too, this other gentle-
ntm oames off my tail, which he returns me damaged and g«>d for
BoUrin^ : and, after alL to rip open my skins, and let out my wine—
would it were his blood I But he shdl not escape agiün ■ for by the
bones of my father, and the soul of my mother, ther shall pay me
down upon the nail every fert^iing, or I am not my father's daugh'
i_i.i rm. — jl^ l.-,l„ _gjj^ iju ¡jj great wrath; and honest
¡stress. The daughter held her peace,
e mob in Sptln, when tb^ *M the bulls

190 vox ^vaaa.

but now and then tmilpd. Tbe prieet ende&TosKd to qiuiet all af
tlieiiL ; proiiibiDg to inuke the best reparUion in hú power for the
afcins as well as tlie vine -, md especially i<x tbe damifce done to tie
tail wLicIt titer vdned su much. Dorotbea eoEiTorted Sancho Pani^
1«I1ÍD9 him that if it should reallf appear that bia muter had cnt oS
the giant's head, ahe vauld, vhen peaceabl/ seated on ber throng
bestow on him tbc best earldom in her domimont. With this inroinise
Bancho -was comforted, and he aisured the princess that she might
depend upon it he hod eeen the slant's head, and that it had a bai^
«hicb reached down tothe girdle: and if it could not be {osad it
wae owiu^ to the witchcraft in that bouse, of which he bad seeo
and felt enough the last time they lodged there. Dorothea agreed
with him ; but assured him that all would end well aod to his
heart's desire. Trgnquillity being now restored, the priest wss
requested bv Cardemo, Dorothea, and the rest, lx> read the remaisder
of the novel; and to please them, as well as huntdf, he Eontinacd as

follows ; —

Anselmo now lived Tterfectiy happy and free from care, being
oonvinced of Camilla's virtue. She affected to treat Lotbario wiUi
coldness, to deceive ber husband, and Lothario entreated bim to
excuse his visits to the house, since it was plain that the sight of him
was disa^Teeahle to bis wife. But tbe duped Anselmo woiUd bj no
means comply with his request ; and thus by a thousand differtait
ways be administered to his own dishonour. As for Leonela, she was
M pleased to find herself thus at liberty, that, regardless of entj-
thing, she abuidoned herself to her plenmres without the leMt
restraint, being certam of her lady's conmvanoe and beln.

In short, one ni^lit Ansehio neard steps in Leoneiia's chaubor;
and on his attemptm^ to ^ in to see who it was, he found the door
held against him, which made him only more determined to be satis-
fied ; he iberefore burst open the door, and just ai he entered saw a
man leap down from the window int« the street. He would imme-
diately have pursued him, but was preveoted by Leoneia, who oLtmg
about him, có'inü'i " Dear sir, be calm ; do not be angir, niv pursue
the man who leaped out ; he belongs to me—in fac^ ne is my hus-
band." Anselmo would not believe Leonela, bnt drew bis nooJard ú
a creat fui7, and threatened to stab her if she did not tell him the
whole truth. In her fright, not knowing what she said, she cried out,
" Do not kill me, sir, and 1 will tell you things of greater importanoe
than jou can imiwine," " Tell am them quiokfy," said Anselmo,
"or you area deaa woman I" "At present it is impossible," said
Leonela, " I am in such confusion ; let me alone until to-mortov
morning, and then jou shall bear what will astonish you : in the mean-
time be assured that the person who jumped out at tbe wmdon ia a
younz man of ibe city who has given me a promise of miniage."
Anselmo was now appeased, and consented to wait till next morning
for an explanation: never dreaming tliat he should hear anything
against Camilla, But he locked Leonela into her room, teUing ber
that she should not stir thence until he had heaid what she had to
oommunicate. He went immediately to Camilla, and related to ber
all that bad passed with her waiting-woman, and the promise she had
given to impart to him things of the utmost importanoe. It is need-
less to say whether Camilla was alanned or not : so great was her
consternation that, never doubting of Leonela's intentit» to ttU

A.OOgIC

"the cueious utaoinaiiT" cokcludsd. m

•^TiMliinn all the knew of her infidelity, she had not tlie oonrage to
vait unlii ike om wLetlier her fears were well or ill-grouudcil. But
Uftt Bame night, when Anselmo vas aakep, she ooUecttNl hn jewds,
with (Ome mone)', and prÍTatel; leaving lier house, went to LoÜiarío,
to «bom abe eomranniáttedwlút had passed; desiring liim toooodnct
hei to a place of safety, or to aqcompaa; her to some retreat where
tíuf nicht live secure from Anselmo. Lothario was so couioundod
that be Uev not «hut to say or how to act. At length ha pro-
pCBcd to conduot her to a OMivent of which his sister was the
mioENi. Camilla oonsentciil, and Lothario iniinediMel; oDBT«fed
Mr to the monuttfy, whert he left ber. Ue likewise absented huo-
ielf from the ei^.

At daybreak Anselmo arose, without obserriox Camilla's absence,
■nd, imp&tient for Leonek's oommunication, he hastened to the
«bnaber in which he hadcoofiaedher. He opened the dooc andweat
in, bat foond no Leonel» there : he onlf found the abeets tied to the
window, by npans of which it appeared she bad slid down and made
h» eaaipa. Ho retamed, maco disappoiute<L to inform Camilla of
tho ciroumstnnce, andoot finding herioWbed, nor in any part of the
loose, be was all asUmishment. He inquired of the servants for her,
•nd no one could give him any tidiois. Eut when he fuiind hw
jeweb gone he b^an to suspect the fatal truth. >'ull of grief and
'ooDstematioB, he ran balf-dns*ed to the honae of his friend Lotfasjia>
toiteD him of his disaster; and bein^ informed by bis servants Hut
their master had fcone away in the night with all the money he h»d
by bim| hs became nesdy irantio. To complete his misery, on bis
return home be found bis house entirely deserted, every servant;
■de aaú female, baring qnitted it, Ue was unable either to think,
-■pei^ or act, and his senses cratbiallv be^an 'o fail iiim. In an
inetaat he fotmd bimsdf fotsakeu byniswife, his friend, and even
hia acrraats — robbed of honour, abandoned by Heaven ! He at last
lestdved to leave the city and go to the frieiiid he bnd visited before.
Bsmi^ looked np his bouse, he mounted on horseback and set out,
ted with sorrow ; but before he bad reached half-way, over-
id with the thoughts of bis mísfortnne, he was unable to pro-
..jd: be therefore «lignted and tied his horse toa tree, at the foot
of which he sunk down and g«ve vent to the most bitter and moum-
fal lamentatioDS. There he remained till evenintr, when a man on
horseback happening to pass that way, he saluted hbn, and inquired
«hat news there was in Florence. Ven strange news, indeed,"
nid the man ; " for it is publicly reported that last night Lothario,
•the rich Anselmo's particular friend, carried off Camilla, wife to
-Anselmo; and that he also is missing. AH this was told by Camilla's
naid^ervant, whom the governor caught in the night letting herself
ÓBWB by a sheet from a window of Anselmo's bouse. However, I do
not kDOW all tbe particalars: I only know that tbe whole town is in
ntooiabatent at this eveot, for no one could have expected any soch
tíiÍBf;, considering the great friendship of tbe gentlemen, which wss
M remarkable that they were styled the Two Priends," " Is it
known," said Anselmo, " what road Lothario and Camilla have
■ lakoi ? " " It is nof," replied tbe cLtiien, " idthough the governor
has ordered diligent seart^ to be made alter tbeni." " Heaven be
vith you ! " said Ansehno. " And with you also," said the man, who
frooÑded raibia way.

A.OOgIC

19S Dov qinxoTE.

This dismal ners almosi bereaved Anselmo both of his senses and
his life. With difficaltr he mounted his horae i^eia, tad reached the
honae of his friend, who oad not yet heard of his misfoitune ; but seeing
him pale, spiritless, and faint, he coneloded that he had met with
some heavy affliction. Anaefmo begged he would lead him to a
chamber and give him pen, ink, an¿|)aper. Ther «•mpliell with his
request, leaving him alone on the bed. So acnte was now the sense
of his misery, that Jie felt it was impossible for him to survive i^
and he wished to leave behind some memorial of the osase of his
death; bnt before he could write all he intended, bis breath failed
him, and he expired — a victim to that grief wbich he had brought
upon himself by his impertinent curiosity.

The master of the house, after some time, went to Anse^mo's cham-
ber to inquire after him, when he found him Iviog upon his face,
his body half in bed, and half resting on the table, apon which Uia
A written paper— the pen was still in his hand. His friend spoke
to him, and approachmg' him took hold of hb hand, but he found
him cold and oreathlcss. Surprised and grieved, he called his
family to witness the disostrona end of AnseLno. Oo the paper he
then read the following lines, which he knew to be Anaelmo's naud-

Camilla hear of my death, let ber know Uuil _. _ ..__,

was not obliged to perform miracles, nor oogbt Ito have required
tbem of her : and since 1 was the contriver Ot my own dishñionr,
there ia no reasoa why "

Thus far had Anselmo written, unable, as it appeared, to finish the
sentence. On the following day bis friend seat to inform his relations
of the aad event. They already knew of his disgrace and the retre^
of his wife. Camilla, indeed, was on the point of quitting life at the
same time as her hnsband— not for grief at his fat^ but at her lover's
i^senoc. Although now » widow, she would neither leave the con-
vent nor take the veil until some time after, when intelligence
reached her that Lothario had been slam in a battle fought between
UonsieurdeLautreo and that ereat commander Gonzalo Fernandez of
Cordua. in the kingdom of Naples, whither the too-late repentant
friend had retreated. She then took the religious habit, and died
shortly after a pray fa sorrow. Sach was the fatal cataatrophe of a
drama which commenced in foLv.

" I like this novel very wetl," swd the priest, " bat I cannot
persuade myself that it is true ) and if it be a fiction, the author has
eired against probabilitv; for it is impossible to conceive that an;
husband would be so absurd as to venture upon so daugerous an
experiment m that made by Anselmo. Had this case been supposed
between a g»llant and his mistress, it mi^t pass- but between
basband and wife it is quit« inoredible. However, the story is not
ill told."

UignieUb, Google

CHAFBR IXXn.

Wiich trait of i>(i«r tmamnon i%admit thai iajiprntd at tiU fxa.

" Eh 1 b; onr Lady ! " suddenly exclaimed the hoai, wbo was stand-
ing at the inn-dobr, " here comes a ^oodlv oompMy of ^etrts I If
Üiey stop hete, we shall sing 0 be jotfiil!" What are therf"
uid Cardenio. "Four men, answered the host, "on horsebac», i,
la Gineta," with lancea and targets, and black maskat on tlicir faces ;
and there is a woman with them, on a side-saddle, dressed in white,
and her face likewise covercd^'besidcs these, there aic two lads on
foot." "Are they near?" said tbe priest. "So near," replied the
innkeeper, " that they are already at the door." Dorothea, hearing
this, veiled her face, and Cardenio retired to Don Quixote's cham-
ber. When the persons mentioned by the host entered the yard,
the fonr horsemen (who appeared to be gentlemen), havinsf alignted,
went to assist the Isdy to dismoant ; and one of them taking ner in
his arms, placed her in a chair near the door of the chamber to
which Cardenio had retired. During all this time not one of the
party had taken off their masks, or spoken a word. The lady when
seated in a chair heaved a deep sigh, and her arms hung bstlesaly
down, as if she were in a weak and fainting state. When the aervanla
took the horses to the stable, the priest followed and questioned
one of them, being curióos to know wbo these people were. "In
troth, signor," replied the servant, " I cannot tell vou who they are ;
hut they must be people of quality, especially he who took the lady in
his arms, because all the rest pay him such respect and do nothing
but what he orders and directs." " And the lady, pray who is
she?" asked the priest. "Neither can I tell that," replied the
Iftcqney ; " for I bave not once seen her face during tbe whole
joumev. I often, indeed, hear her sigh, and utter such groans that any
one of them was enough to break her heart; but ¡t is no wonder
that we cannot tell you any more, as my comrade aiid 1 have been
only two days in their service ; for having met us opon the road, thoy
persuaded us to go with them as far as Andalusia, and promised to pa;
us well." " Have you heard any of their names ?" said the priest. "No,
indeed," answered the lad, for they all travel in so much silence,
we hear nothing but the sighs and the sobs of the poor lady, whidi
move our pity ; and wlieresocver she is going, we suspect ¡t is against
her nill. Trom her habit she must be a nun, or peroaps going to be
made one, and not from her own choice, which makes her so sorrow-
ful." " Very likely," quoth the priest: and then leaving them, he

retonied to ine room where he had left Dorothea, whose cf ''"

being excited by the sighs of the masked lady, she appr

• A mode of sidlBg wili aliort t&cmpt, which the Spaniaids took ftum

f A pie^^e of tliin black ülk worn befar« tlis face in travelling, not for
di^ntBe, but to keep off the dint and nm.

191 DOK QinxOTK.

and said, " Toa seem id dútress, dear madam ; if it be in the pover
of woman to render yon any sorice, most willingly lofferyoü mine."
The afflicted lady returned no answer; and iJtlioQgh Dorothea
renewed her offers, she persisted in her silenco until the caiaher in
the mask, who seemed to be superior of the p^y, cfune up and said
to Dorothea, " Trouble not j-ouisel^ madam, to oner anything to this
woman ; for she is very nngrateful ; nor endeaTour to set on answer
from her, unless you wish to hear some falsehood." " fio," said the
bdy, who had hitherto been silent ; " on the contrary^ it ia from mj
STersion to falsehood that I am thus wretobed ; for it is my trotn
alone which makes you act so false and treacherous a part."

Tliese words were distinctly heard bv Cardenio, who was Tery near
to the speaker, being separated only oy the door of Don Quiiote's
chamber: and, on heari " ' ■ ' ' ' ' " " '
what dol hearf what t
The lady, in much snrpri
and, not seeing who uttered them, she started up, and was going into
the room, when the cavalier detained her, and would not euffer her to
niove a step. In this sudden commotion her mask fell off, and dis-
covered a face of incomparable beauty, although pale and full of
terror; for she looked wildly around her, eiamining every place
with so much eagerness that she seemed distracted, and excited the
sympathy of Dorothea and others of_the party, who could not con-
jecture tie Ci * ' " IT held her fast by the
shoulders, am could not keep on bis
mask, which d Dorothea, who also
had Der arm. cs, discovered in the
stranger — hei instantly, with a long
and disinalOl ind had not the barber,
who stood c!c ! would have fallen to
the ground. er veil to throw water
in her face : lised her. and seemed
petrified at th >t his bold of Lucinda,
who was the ¡ase herself from him ;
for she knei ecollected hera. The
groan of Dor ;atd by Cardenio, who
believing it c oto the room, and the
first object hi Lucinda in his arms.
They all ga» : none seemed able to
utter a word. L'ueinda was the first who recovered the power of
speech, and she thna addressed Don Fernando : " Let me go, my
lord r I entreat jou, as you are a gentleman^ that you will suffer me
to fly to the protection of him from whom m vün you have ende»-
Toured to separate me. See how tnystcriousk Heaven has conducted
me into the presence of my true husband! You well know, by«
thousand proofs, that nothing can shake the faith I have pledged to
him. Cease, therefore, vour fruitless persecution, or let your iove be
converted into rage, and destroy me; for then at least I shall die in
the presence of mv beloved, who by my death will be convinced of my
inviolable fidehtv.

Dorothea in the mean time bad recovered her senses, and hearinK

what Luciuda said, she conjectured who she was. Seeing that Don

Temando atill held her, she approached him, and threw herself at hb

feet, her kvelf &oe bauicd in ttan. " Ah, my lord 1" said she, "were

, , . .A.OOgIC

cnntí nciDXHiB u the un. 195

yod not duzled hj thai, heaxitj in your amu, yon wtnild see the
nnliAppr Dorothea, who ¡b now prostrate at f oui feet. I am that
biunhle coimtrr Rirl whom you youciisafed to call jonrs ; Bhe who
lived k liappj and oiodest life lutil, seduced hj your importonities,
ftnd the apparent sincerit; of your affection, she resigned her libert;
to f ou. How you requited her is now too maoifest ! But do not
think that I haie followed the path of dishonour : ^ef and misery
•lone hare attended my steps since your cruel desertion. When I was
persnaded to bind myself to you, it was wit!) ties that, clianred as
yoor seotimenta may be, can never be dissolved. Ah, m v lord ! wUl
not my tenderness compensate for the beauty and rank of her for
whom you abandon me r Hecollect that you are mine, and that
Lucinda belongs to Cai^enio : surely it will be easier for you to revive

tour own love towards her who adores you, than to inspu^ with love
er who hates yoo. You were not igooraat of my condition when I
eonsentod to become youn on hononrable terms : then, as you are a
Christian and a gentleman, I claim the fulfilment of your promise, for
I am your true and lawful wife. StilL if vou refuse to acknowledga
me, protect me as your slave, and I will submit; but do not abandon
me to the world.— do not afflict the declining years of my parents,
who have ever been your faithful vassals. Think not of theu' mean-
nesa—for rank is not essential in a wife ; besides, true nobility consists
in virtue, and if you forfeit that by wronging me, you degrade yourself
below me. £ut however yoo may please to act towards me, my lord,
lam still your wife — witness vour words, witness yonr lettera, ana
witness Heaven, whom you called upon to sanctify our mutual vows I
LasUy, I appeal to yonr conscience, which will embitter with self-
leproach eveiy eDJoyment of your life, if you fail to listen to ito
dictates."

The afflicted Dorothea urged these and other arenments in so affect-
bg a manner that she excited the most lirely interest in all present.
Don remando Ustoned in silence to her wráils, which were followed
by such bursts of overwhelming grief, that no human heart could
witness it without emotion. Lucinda longed to comfort her, and
condole with her, but she was still detained. Don femando at length
■nddenly disengaged his arms from her, aft«r having nied awhile on
Dorothea. " lou hare conquered, fair Dorothea ! " he exclaimed, —
" you have conqnered. There is no resistrnffvou ! "

Xucindawas so faint, when released from Don Femando's embraoa,
that she was just falling to the ground ; but Cárdenlo hastened to her
«upport ; "Tnese arms7' said he, " shall protect thee, my beloved, my
lutmnl miatiesB I Heaven grant you may now find repose I " Lucinda
liwked upt to be asaored niat it was indeed her Cardenio, and on
seeing his beloved face, re^dtess of forms, she threw her arms around
his neck, and embraced him with the utmost tenderness. " Oh, Car-
denio I you are my true lord ! Whatever the fates mi^ condemn me
to suffer, I am for ever yours ! "

This was an affecting scene to all present. Dorothea watched Don
femando, and fearing that be meditated revenge on Cardenio, as be
looked agitated, and put bis hand to his sword, she clung sronnd him,
emteaeingluB knees, and said to liim, " What means my love, my only
lefugef^Behohlyoiirtruewife at yonr feet! Lncindais in the arms
c^her husband. toA even in your presence bedews his bosom with
tears of love; now thea cmi joa think of uniting yoniself to herí
»» ,, ..A.OOgIC

196 i>ov QxnxoTB.

For Heaven's sake, and the honour of your Dame, let ttieir deduc-
tions of mutual al^ction.insteadof moTJngfour wrath, induce ;outO
leave them unmolested, to pass their Uves happily together ; you vill
thus show to the world that /on are not eovemed by your passions,
but have a noble, generous mmd,"

While Dorothea spoke, Cardenio kept his eyes filed on Dim Fer-
nando, and was preikred to defend himself if asaaulted by him. But
that nohlEtnan was now smroondcd bythe whole party, not exceplJDg
honest Sancho, who all interceded for DoKithea ; and the priest renre-
aented to him that so singular a meeting must not be ascnbcd to
chance, but to the special providence of HeaTcn. He beeeed him
also to consider how vain would be the attempt to separate Cardenio
and Lucinda, who would be happy even to die proving each other's
faith ; and how prudent as well as noble it would be in him to trinmph
over his passion, and freely leSve the two lovers to enjov the happi-
ness of mutual affection. That he should turn to the lovely Doro-
thea, who had such strong claims upon him, not only on account of
her extreme tenderness for him, but the promises he hod made to her,
which, as a Christian «id a man of honour, he was bound to pofonn :
addinf; to these arguments, that it would be no derogation to his raak
to elevate beauty adorned with virtue.

These tnillis,so forcibly urged, were not lost npon the mind of Don
Fernando, who embraced Dorothea, saying, "llise, mv dear lady, for
that is not a posture for the mistress of my soul; and if I have offended
against you, surely it has been by the will of Heaven, that I might
know your 1 rue value, by such proofs of your constancy and affection. I
only entreat that you will not reproach me for my involuntary offence,
but look at the now happy Lucinda, and her eyes will plead mv excuse.
May she enjoy long years of happiness ivitli her Cárdenlo, and Heaven
grant me the same with my Dorothea ! " Again he pressed lier to hia
heart, and could scarcely forbear showing his emotions of tenderness
and repentance by tears : indeed, all the company present were so
much affected, that their tears of sympathy might have been mistaken
for those of sorrow. Even Sancho Pama wept ; though he owned
afterwards that it was only because Dorothea turned not out to he the
guecn Micomicona who was to have made his fortune, Cardenio and
Lucinda expressed their acknowledgments to Don Fernando for his
present conduct, in so feeling a manner, that he was too much moved
to find words to reply to them,

Dorothea bein^r now quest ioned by Don Fernando as to the circnm-
stances which had brought her to that place, she gave a biicf detail
of what she had before related to Cardenio ; and so interesting was her
narrative to Don Fernando and his party, and so graceful herdetivery,
that Ihey even regretted when the story of her mbfortuncs was ended.
Don Fernando then related what he had doneafterfindiiiginLueiuda'a
bosom the paper declaring herself the wife of Cardenio. He con-
fessed that his Hrst inipube was to take hor life, and he should actnalljr
have done so, bad he not been prevented by her parents ; uponwhiohho
immediately (quitted the house, full of shame and fury, determined to
seize the first opportunity of revenge. On the following day he heard
that she had left her father's house, concealing the place of her retreat ¡
bat after some n:Dnths he discovered that she had retired to a convent,

SÁXCBc^» irpucno». 197

eonyent (jate wm open to moke his entrance. leaTiog two of Ms com-
pinioos to secure the gate ; and having found Lucinda walking in the
doistera, attended only b.v a nun, they seized her, and bore her &ve,j
to aplace where they hnil prepared evezr accommodation necessary
Kx their project. Lucinda, he aoid, had fainted on seeing her^if ia
bis power, sM when her senses Mtnrned, she wept ana sighed, but
neyer mote a single word. Thus, in silence and sonow, they had
leached that imt, which, he trusted, was the goal of all their earthly
miafortaiiee.

CHAPTER XXXVIL

Whtra'H Ú coniintiid ti4 Aúforj o/ liefamovt Infanta ilieomicona,
vith QtA^ pteoMini <idttiitura.

Sanciio experienced no small grief of mind on thus seeing all hii
dopes of preferment fait disappearlui' and vanishing into smoke, b;
the transformation of the fair princess Micoiaicona into Dorotliea, and

Üie giant into Don Fernando ; wliile his master unconscious of what
«as passing;, by wrapped in profound sleep. Dorothea could not be
certain whether the happiness she enjoyed was not a dream ; and
Cardenio and Lneinda entertained the same donbtj, Don Fernando
gave thanks to Heaven for having delivered him from a perilous
■itoation, in which his honour as well as his soul were in iniinlnetit
dan^T. In short, all were pleased at the happy conclusion of such
intncafe and hopeless affairs. The priest, like a man of sense, placed
everything in its true lis;ht, and eonpratuluted each upon tlieir share
of tne good fortune tliat iiad befallen them. But the landlady was
more delighted than all ; as Cardenio and tlie priest had promised
to pay her ivith interest for every loss she liad sustained upon Don
Quixote's account.

Sancho alone was afflietcd,^ unhappy, and full of sorrow ; and, with
dismal looks he vent in to his master, just then awake, to whom be
mid : " Yonr worship may sleep on, signor sorrowful bgure, without
troubling yourself about killina: any giant or restoring the princess
to her kingdom, for that is already done and over." " I verily believe
it," answered Don Quixote, " for I have bad the most monstrous and
dreadful battle with the giant tliat ever 1 expect to liave in the whole
"'\ one back stroke I tumbled his bead to the
a the quantity of blood that gushed from it,
ig the ground like a torrent of water." " Like
might better say," answered Sancho; "for
) not know it already, that the dead giant b a
the blood eiabtecn gallons of red wine con-
id may the devil lake all for me ! " " What
lied Don Quixote. "Art thouinthy acuses?"
inoth Sancho, " and yon will see what a fine
nade, and what a reckoning we have to pay i
JO queen converted into a private lady called
matters which, if yon take them lightly, will
A.OOgIC

198 DO» QtnxíOT,

aatonish jon." "1 shall wonder at notliing," replied Don Qaixote;
" for, thoQ nftjest remember, the last time ire were here, I told thee
that dlU things in this iilace went by enchantment ; and Ihere can bo
nothing surpriaiag in it if this were the case again." "I should
beliere so too," answered Sandio, " if my being t«ssed in the bUnket
had been a matter of this nature : but it was downright real and true ;
and I saw the rerr same innkeeper hold a comer of the blanket,
and cant me towards heiLven with notable alacrity, laughing too all
the time ; and whereit happens that we knoir persons, mniyopiniou
(simple and a sinner as I am], there is no enchantment at all, hot much
misusage and mncb mishap. "Well, Heaven will remedy it," quoth
Don Quixote ; " gire me my clothes, that I may go and see the events
and tnmsfonnatiuQS thou hast m - - -< <>

Quixote's madness, and of the artifice tliev had used to get him from
the barren mountain to which he imagined himself hanislted through
his ladv's disdain. He related ¿so most of the adventures which
Sancho had com iimni cat ed to them.to theirgreat diversion and astonish-
ment ; for they, like others, considered it as the most singular species
of insanity that ever took possession of the imagination. The priest
swd further that, since the lady Dorothea's good fortune would not
permit her to prosecute their design, it was necessary to contrive
some other expedient to get him home. Cárdenlo offered his assist-
ance, and proposed that Lueinda should personate Dorothea. " No,"
said Don Fernando " it must not bo so ; for I will have Dorothea
herself proceed in her part; and as this good gentleman's vill^
is sot far distant, I shall be glad to contribute to his cure." "It
b not above two days'Joumev, said the priest. "If it were farther,"
said Don Fernando, " I would undertake it with pleasure for so good
a pnrpose."

Don Quixote now come forth, clad in all his armour ; Hambrino's
helmet, though bruised and battered, on hia head ; his target braced,
and resting on bis sapling or lance. His strange appearance greatly
auiprised Don Femandoand his company, who faifed not to observe
his long and withered visage of sallow hue, his ill -matched armour,
and measured pace. Tbey paosed in silent expectation of heaTrng
him speak, when with much gravity and solemnity^ fixing his eves
upon the wr Dorothea, he said; " lam informed, fair lady, bv tnia
my SQuire, that your grandeur is annihilated, and your very being
demolished; and that from a queen you are metamorphosed into a
private maiden. If this has been done by order of the necromautio
king your father, fearing lest I should not afford you the necessary
aid, I say he knew not one half of his art, and that he was but little
veráed in histories of knight-errantry : for had he read them as atten-
tively as I have read and considered them, he would have known that
other knights, of less fame than myself, have achieved still greater
difficulties : it being no such mighty bosiness to kill a pitiful giant,
arrogant as he may be : for not many hours are passed since I waa
engaged with one myself, and— I say no more, lest I should be sus-
pected of falsehood ; but time, the revealer of all things, will declare
It when least expected." " It was with a couple of wineskins, and
nota giant," quoth the innkeeper— here he was inlemipted by Don
femando, who commanded him to hold hia peace, and m no wiso ta
, , . .A.OOgIC

THi iRiGBT KtBnua SAKCnO. IW

iriompt Don Quixote's disconne: wbowent (n, wio^ "laamre

jon, therefoio, hi^ and (üainheritea lad;, that if (or the cause 1 Wo
neiititxied jour fetbei has made this metamorpbose in joar Mraon,
it is perfectly needless: for there ia no danger upon etulh through
vhicE mj swwd ahall not loroe a w^; and bj bringing down the h^
of your enemy to the ground, shortl; place upon jooi own tbe crown
of Vonr kingdom."

EoK Don Quixote ceased, and waited tie anawer of the princess,
whO) knowmg it to be Don Femando's desire that she should can? on,
the deception, until Don Quixote's return home, with much diKsitr
ud grace replied, "Whosoever told jon, valonnis knifiht of the
sorrowful %ure, that I was changed and altered from what I was,
spoke not the tnitb: for I am the same t4)-dar that I was yesterday.
It ¡a tru& indeed, that certain events, fortunate bejond mf hopes,
have befallen me since then, yet I do not cease to be what T was
before, and to entertain the same thoughts I have ever indulged of
availing mrself of tbe toIout of four valiant and invincible am.
Therefore, dear sir, with four accustomed (goodness, do justice to the
honour of mr father, and acknowledge his wisdom and prudence, since
b][ hb skill be found out so easy and certain a way to remedj mv
misfortunes ¡ for I veril; believe had it not been for jou, sir, I ahonla
nerer have enjoyed my present happiness; and in this I speak tbe
eiaot truth, as most of these gentlemen, I am sure, will testify. Let
SI then proceed on oar jonmey to-morrow (for to-day it is too late) ;
Md to heaven and your prowess I trust for a successful issue."

ThoB spoke the discreet Dorothea: whereupon Don Quizots
turning to Sancho, said to him, "1 tell thee, Sancho, thou art tbe
greatest rascal in Spain ; say, vagabond ! didst thoo not tell me just
now that this princess was tnuisfDrmed into a damsel called Dorothea :
with other absnrdities, which were enough to confound me F I vow
(and here he looked up to heaven, and snashed his teeth) "I have a
pvt inoliniüion to nuüce soch an example of thee, as shall put sense
mto the brains of all tbe lying squires of future times!" "Pray, sir,
be pacified," answered Sancho; for I may have been mistaken as to
the change of my lady the princess Micomicona ; hut as to the gianf a
head, or at least the piercing of the skins. and the blood being red
wine, I an not deceived, as God liveth ; tor there are the skins at
jonr worship's bed's-head, cot and slashed, and the red wine has
made a pond of the room : aul you will find I speak true when our
host demands damages. As for the rest, I rejoice in my heart that
my Udy-qneen is as she was; for I have my share in if, like every
neighboors child." "I tell thee, Sancho," sud Don Qniiote, "thon
ait an ass. Ezcose me, thafs enouzh." "It is enough," said Don
femando^ "and let no more be said on the aubiect: and since the
princess oath declued that we are to set forward in tbe rooming, it
being too late to-day, let us pass this night in agreeable oonversn.tion ;
and to-moiTOW we will all accompany Signer Don Quixote, for «e
desire to be eye-witnesses of the valoróos and unheard-of deeds which
he is to perform in the accomplishment of this ffreat enterprise." " It
is my pirt to serve and attend yoii," answered Don Quixote; "and
unen am I indebted to yon for jour good opinion ; which it shall be
By mdeavour not to disappoint, eren at the expense of my life, oi
CTen moK^ if more were posible.

Ifanf w«e the ramplimenfa^ and polite offers of semoe passing
A.OOgIC

900 wnr qmxou.

between Bon Quixote and Don Fernando, when tbgr wtat intempted
hs the airival of two othet persons at tne inn. Toe one wm a mas,

«hobf hia varb seemed to be a Christian lateWconte frcm amocR the
Moon ; forhe had on a blue doth coat, with short skirts, half beeves,
and no collar. Hia breeches also were of blue cloth, and his cap of
the same colour. He had on a pair of dat«K!oloDred buskins, and a
lloorish scimitar hung in a shoulder-belt across his breast. He waa
accompanied hf a female in a Moorish dress, mounted on an ass, her
face reiied, a brocade turban on her head, and covered with a mantle
from her ahouldera to her feet. The man was of a robust and
agreeable figure, rather abore fort; years of a^ of a dark complexion,
with laive mustáchios, and a well-set beard - m short, his deportment,
had be been wdl-dreased, would have marked him for a geotleman.
. Upon his entrance he asked for a room, and seemed disconcerted on
hearing that there was not one unoocnpied; neverthelesa, he assisted
his female companion, who was eridentl; a Moor, to sJi/Hit. Tilt
other ladies, as well as the hindlady, her danehter, and maid, all sur-
lounded the stranger, attracted, bi the novelty of her appearance;
and Dorothea, who was always obli^png and conaidende, perceirin^
thcf were diráppointcd at not haring an apartment, accosted her,
saying, " Do not be distressed, my dear madam, at an inconrenience
Which mnst be expected in places of this kind; but if you will pleaso
to share with ui (pointing lo Lucinda) such accommodation as wo
have, you may perhaps hare found worse in the conree of toot

i'ourney." The veiled lady returned her no answer, but, rising mm
ler seat, and laving her bands across hrr breast, bowed her head and
body in token that she thanked her. Sy her silence they conjectured
that sbe could not speak their langu^e, and were confirmed in their
opinion of her being a Moor.
Her o "- -'-- "- '

the Spanish lasuaage, and is therefore i " mverse with you."

"We have only been requesting herto irith herccmipany,

and share our accommoaatiüns," said ] and we will sliov

her all the attention due to strangers, w especially those of

our own sex." "My dear matUm," 1 "I return yon a

thousand thanks both for this lady and I am fully sensible

of the extent of the favour you offer n iw me to ask yon,

signer, whether the lady is a Christian ?" " By birth she

is a Moor," replied the stranger; "bu she is a Christian,

having an ardent wish to become one.' not yet baptised.

then?" innuired Lucinda^ "Therchas ^^. _-jn an opportunity,

answered tne stranger, "mnce sbe left Algiers, her native country;
and she has not hitherto been in such imminent danger of death as to
make it necessary to have bet baptised before she be instructed in all
the ceremonies enjoined by our Church ; but, if it please Heaven, sbe
will be soon baptised in a manner beooming her rank, which is beyond
what either her appearance or miin- indicate."

These strangers excited the curiosity of the whole party, who
refrained, however, from importuning thetu with questions ; conceiving
they would be more inclined to iSie repose than to satisfy them.
Dorothea now took the lady's bond, and, leading her to a seat, placed
herself by her, and then requested hei to nuveil; upon wiuut she

A.OOgK

p.n an inqnirtncr locik at ber coropanioD ; and he Itaviní interpreUd
«luit bad been said b> her in Arabic, she ^ ' ' < j--

THB .KRMSl's OAiTIOK.

J — /ed !ipr"Teil, and dia-

ooveied a &ce so exgoiaitelr beautiful that Dorothea thought she
exceeded LocinthL wlio on her part, thought her handsomer than
Dorothea; while tiiar adnirers all secaied to confess that if either of
themcooldhavsaiiTaliiibeantTÍt was in this Moorish kdy; antLaa
it is the privilege of beautj to conciliAte and attraot good will, the;
we bU eager to show ber attention. Don Fernando inqnired her
name of her companion ; " Lek Zoraida," he replied ¡ when she int^-
poaed in a aweet, earnest maaner— " No, not Zoraida ; Maria, Maria "
— giTiog- them to w^erstand that her name was Mana, not Zoraida.
Tbeae words were prononnced in so touching a voice that they were
all affected, especiailjr the ladies, who were naturally tender-hearted.
IiUcioda embraced her most affectionately, saving, " Tea, fes ; Maria,
Uaria;" who answered, "Yea, Maria; Zoraida macange" — meaning
not Zoraida.

It beiiig now night, sapper was served up (in providiosr which the
landlord had, by Don t'emacdo's order, exerted himself to the utmost).
33ter seated themselves at a long table, like those in halls; for there
was no other, either round or siinare, in the house. They uitisted on
Don Quixote's taking the head of Ine table, though he would have
dedined it ; the princess Micomicúna he placed next to liim, being
her chainpioD; Lucbda and Zoraida seated tbemselvea besiae her;
oppfaite them sat Don Fernando and Cardenio ; the curate and barber
sat next to the hidies, end the rest of the gentlemen opposite to them ;
and thus tbey banqueted mnch to their satisfaction. Don Quixote
added to their amusement, for being moved by the same spirit which
had inspired him with eloquence at the goath¿^'s supper, instead of
eating he now harangued as follows ;—

" It must cerfaiulv be confessed that great and wonderful are the
occurrenoes which Wal those who profess the order of knight-
errantry. What man existing, who should now enter at this castle-
gate, and see us thus seated, could imagine ns to be the persons we really
are 1 Who should say that this lady here seated by my side ia that
great queen we all know her to be, and I that ' knight of the sorrowful
figure, BO blazoned abroad by the mouth of fame I There no longer
remains a doubt that this art and profession exceeds all that bave
ever been followed by man ; and that it is the more hououtable
inasmuch as it is exposed to more danger. Away with those who
tay that letters have the advantage over arms ! Whoever they may
be, 1 will maintaio that they know not what they my ; for the reason
thov usually give, and upon which they usually lay the greatest stress,
is that the labours of the braiu exceed those of the bodv, and that
arms is simply a corporeal exercise; as if it were the business of
porten atone, for which mere strength is required, or as if the pro-
fession of arms did not call for tliat fortitude which depends on a
Tigoroos nnderstandmg, or asif the mental powers of the warrior who
Ikas an army or the defence of a besieged city oommitted to bis charge,
are not called into exertion as well as those of his body ! Let it ne
shown bow, by mere corporeal strength, he can penetrate the designs
of the enemy, form stratagems, overcome difficulties, and avert
threateneddangers!— no, these are all the efforts of the understanding,
in which the body has no sbare. Since, then, arms exercise the mind
as veil a* letters, let ns now see whose mind is most exert«d ¡ the
,, .A.OOgIC

■cholar's or tlie Boldier's. This may be detennined bf the nltinuta
object of each ; for that pursuit desnres tlie most eat«em which has
the noblest aim in Tiev, Now the end and design of letters — I speal
not of theolog7, the aim of which is to ruide and derate the soul of
maa to hear en, for with that none can be compared ; but I speak rf
hnmon learning, whose end, I stt;, is to regulate distributive justice,
and give to erery man his due; to know good laws, and canse them
to be strictly observed ; an object moat certainly generous and exalted,
and worthy of high commendation, bat not equal to that which is
annexed to the profession of aims, whose end and porpoae is peace
— the greatest bleasing man can enjoy in this life ; for the ¿ret glad
tidings tíie world Teceived was what the angels broufdit on that night
which was onr day, when they sang in the clouds, ' Glory to God on
high, and on earth peace and good-will towards men!' andthe_Baluta>
tion which tbe Master of earth and of heaven taught His disciples

0 true nappiness. To obtain

, ar— by war and arms I mean

Peace, then, being the object of war, it must be
oranted ttiat in its ultimate aim it is superior to tbe pursnit of letter*.
We will now compate tbe oorporcal lobonrs of the soldier and tho

D^ Quixote thns puraued his disconne m rationally, that bis
auditors could searcely think bim insane ; on tbe contrary, most of
them being gentlemen, to whom tbe ei^ercisB of arma pro^rly apper-
tains, tbey nstened to him with particular pleasure wlule be thus

oontmucd : " AJnong tbe hardships Oí the scholar we may, in tbe first
t all an > ■ - ■

be said of his miaery, for he who ia poor ¡a ^titute of every good
thing; be endures nuserv in all abapea, in banger and in cold, somC'
times in nakednesa, and sometimes in a oombination of alL StiD,
however, he gets something to eat, either from the rich man's leav-
ings, or the sops of the convent — that last miserable resource of tbe
poor scholar; nor are they without some neighbour's fire-side or
ehimnev-oomer to keep them at least from extreme cold ; and at
night tney can generall;y sleep under cover. I will not enlarge npon
other trifling inconvemences to which they are exposed; such as
soarmty of hnen, want of shoes, tbresd-baré costa, and the aarfeits
they ill liable to when good fortuno sets a plentiful table in their
way. This ia the hard and rugged path they tread, sometimes falling,
then rising and falling again, till uiey reach the emineooe tbey have
had in view; and after passing these Sc} lias and Charybdises,ve have
•een them from a chair command and govern the world, their hanger
converted into satiety, their pinching cold into refreshing coolness,
their nakedness into embroidery, and their slumbers on a mat to
tepose on hoUand and damask— a reward justly merited by (heir
virtne. But their haid^ps fall ¡at ahoit of those of the warrior, •■
I shall soon oouvinoe yon.''

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTER XXXVUI.

Boh Quixote, nfter a eliort pan», continued hia disconise thm x
" Since in speakuuc of the scholar, we iK^titn willi bis poyert; and Ha
several branches, let ns see whether the soldier be rictier. We shaU
And that povertT itself is not more poor: for he depends on h^
wretched pajr, wnich comes late, and sometimes never-, ornpon w]iat

)te can pilFase, at tJie imminent risk of his life and con-' "--'■

often is his nuednesa that his slashed bnff-doublet si

uD Hiuuoiiu» 11 13 1113 u»n fault, foT be may mcuuic uui. u miuij
feet of earth as he pleases, and roll himself thereon at pleasure with-
out fear of mmpling the sheets. Suppose the moment arrived of
taking his degree— I mean, soppose the day of battle come ; hia
doctoral cap may then be of lint, to cover some ^n-shot wound,
which pcrhapa has gone through his temples, cm deprived him of an
arm or a leg. And even suppose that heaven in ¡ts mercy should pre-
serve him alive and unhurt, he will probably remain as poor as ever;
ftir he mast be enga^d and Tiotorious in many battles before he can
expect high promotion: and such good fortune happens only by a
miracle : for you will allow, gentlemen, that few are the nomber of
those Üiat have reaped the reward of their services, compared wMi
those who have jjcnshcd in war. The dead are conntless ; whereas
those who survive to be rewwded may be numbered with thne
figures. Not so with scholari, who by their salaries (I will not say
their pecqaisites), are generally handsomelv provided for. Thus the
labours of the soldier are greater, althouirh bis reward is less. It mar
be said in ansver to this, timt it is easier to reward two thoasaud
Scholars than thirty thousand soldiers : for scholars are rewarded by
employments which must of course be given to men of their pro-
fession; whereas the soldier can only be rewarded by the property of
tiie master whom he serves ; and this defence serves to stiengtliea
my argument.

" £ut, waiving this point, let ns consider the oomparative claims to
inc-eminence ; for the partizana of each can bring powerful arguments
m support of their own cause. It is said in favour of tetters that
without them arms conld not subsist ; for war most have its laws, and
laws come within the province of the learned. But it may be alleged
in reply, that arms are necessary to the maintenance of law ■ by arms
tlte paolic roads are protected, oitiea sniarded, states defended, king-
tknns preserved, and the seas deared of corsairs and pirates. In short,
«itboñt anoa there would ba no itSeitj tat cities, commonwealths, or
kingdoms. Beaidee, it is just to otinate «poranit in proportion to

1RH SON gnixoTi.

the cost of its attainment. Now it is true tbat eminence in leamng
b purchased by time, watching, banger, uakednesa, vertigo, indiges-
tion, and man/ other incoDTenienccs already mentioned : but a man
who rises mduallv to lie a good soldier endures all these, and far
more. What is the huniter and pOTertj- which menace the man of
letters compared lo the situationof the soldier, who, besieged ¡a some
fortress, and placed as sentinel in some ravelin or cavalier, perceÍTes
that the enemy is mining towards the place nheie he stands, and yet
must on no account stir ^m his post or shun the ¡mmincnt danger
tbat tbreatens him ? All that he can do in such a case is to give
notice to hiB officer of what passes, that he may endeavour to oounter-
sctit; in the meantime be must stand his ground, in momentary
expectation of being mounted to Üia clouds withont wings, and then
dashed headlong to the eartli. And if this be thouglit but a trifling
danger, let va see whether it be equalled or exceedi^d by the en-
counter of two galleys, prow to jifow, in the midst of the white sea,
kicked and nappled together, so that there is no more room left for
the soldier than the two-foot plank at the break-head: and though he
sees OS many threatening ministers of death before uim as there are

E'eces of artillery pointed at him from the opposite side, not the
ngth of a lance from his body ; thoufth be knows that the first slip
of his foot sends him to the bottom of ttic sea: yet, witii an undauutea
heart, inspired by honour, he exposes himself as a mark to all theic
Are, and endeavours by that narrow pass to force his way into tha
enemy's vessel ! And, what is most worthy of admiration, no soonet
is one Mleii, never to rise again in this world, than anotlier takes his
place ; and if he also fall into the sea, which lies in wait to devour
Mm, another and another succeeds without intermisión ! In all the
extremities of war there is do example of courage and intrepidity lo
exceed this. Happy those ages which knew not the dreadful fury of
artillery ¡—those instruments of hell (where, 1 verily believe, the
inTcntor is now receiving the reward of his diabolical ingenuity) ; hj
means of which the cowardly and the base can deprive the braven
soldier of life. Wliile a gallant soirit animated witn heroic ardour is
pressing to glory, comes a chance oall, sent by one who perhaps fied in
alarm at the flash of his own accursed weapon, and in on instant cuts
short the hfe of him who deserved to Eve for axes! M heni consider
this, I could almost repent having undertaken this profession of
knight-errantrv in so detestable an age ; for tliough no danger can
daunt me, still it gives me some concern to think that powder and
lead may suddenly oat short my career of glorv. But Heaven's will
be done! I have this satisfaction, that I sliall acquire the grtalei
fame if I succeed, inasmuch as llie perils by which 1 am beset we
trreater than those to which the knights-errant of past ages wen
expoaed."

Don Quixote made this long harangue while the rest were eating;
forsetltng to raise a morsel to nis mouth, though Sancho Panza ever
ftnd anon reminded him of his supper, telling him he would have tima
enough afterwards to talk as much as be pleased. His other auditors
were concerned that a man who seemed to possess so good an under-
standing should, on a particular point, be so egregiously in want of it.
The priest told him tnere was ^reat reason in all that he had said in
bvDur of arms, and although hiuuelf a scholar and a giaduatt^ lie
acquiesced in ms opinion.

A.OOgIC

tHB CUTtVs'S ADYummzs. 206

He ODUatioii being orer, the doth waa removed: and while the
heatess snd her damsels vere preparing the chamber which Don
Quiiote had occupied for the ladies, l>on femando reqnested the
stranger to gratHj them b; relatmg his adventures : since, from the
hdy who accompanied him, he waa certain thev mnst be both interest-
ing- and extraordinary. The stranger said that he would willingly
comply with their request, though he was afraid his history would
not aSonl tbem much amusement. The priest and rest of the partr
thanked him: and, seeing them all prepared to listen to him with
kttEntion, he began his oüntiTe in a modest and agreeable nuumer,
as ibllowB ;—

CHAPTER XXXIX
Whtrttn At cajAht niata kii lift and aámlurfi.

"Ik a »ilk!fB among the mmmtain» of Leon my funilj had its
origin; and, although more faronred by natnre than fortune, in that
llumble region my father was considered wealthy j and might really
have been so. had he known the art of economising ratner than
squandering his estate. This disposition to profusion proceeded from
his having been a soldier in his younger dajs, for the army is a school
in which llie miser bi^omes generous, and the generous prodigal :
miserlj soldiers are, like monsters, but Terr rarely seen. Liberality
nay be carried too far in those who bave children to inherit their name
and rank ; and this wo» my father's failing. He had three sons, and
being himself aware of this propensity to extraTagnTice, and of his ina-
bility lo restrain it, he determined to dispose of nia property, and by
tiiat means efi'ectnálly deprive himself of the power oi laTishmgit : he
therefore called us one day together, and thus addressed us : —

" 'My sons, I need not say I love you, for you are my children; and
yet you may well donbt my love, since I have not refrained from diasi-
patmz your inheritance. But to prove to you that I am not an nnna-
tunl father, 1 have finely resol veil upon the execution of apian which
is the result of mature deliberation. You are now of age to establish
yourselves in the world, or at least to choose some employment from
which you may hereafter reap honour and profit. 1 intend to divide
my property into four parts, three of which you shall equally share,
and the fourth I will reserve to subsist upon for the remaining data
it may please Heaven to allot me : it is mv wish, however, that eacli,
when in possession of his share^ ahould follow the path that I shall
direct. We have a proverb in Spain, in my opinion a very true one,
as most ptoverba are, being maxims drawn from experience : it is this;
" The church, the sea, or the court ; " meaning that whoever would
prosper should either get into the church, engavie in commerce, or
serve the king in his coiut : for it is also said, that " the king's morsel
is better than the brd's bounty." It would, therefore, give me great
ntisfaction if one of yon would follow letters, another merehandise,
and the third serve the king in the annr; tor it is ditGcnlt to get
lission sto his hoasehold; eai though a military career is not
. A.OOgIC

SOB SOX QDOon.

¿iTonnhle to the acqnireinent of wealth, it Mtdom Mi to «onfer

honour. Within eight days I will nve ;ou each four share in moner;
and now tell me whether yoa are oispóaed to follow toy advice.' A»
Iwu the eldest, he desirea me to answer Gnt. Upon which I entreated
him not to part with his estate^ but to spend aa much as he pleased,
for that we were f aimg enough to labour for oaiselvea ¡ ana 1 eon-
dudul by aBSuriná him tlia,t I would do as he desired, and enter the
ann;, to serve God and my kins. My aeoand brother complied likd-
wise, and chose to go to the Indies, turning his portion into raerchau-

the church, andfor that purpose finish his studies at Si

"Haling determined upon our several professions, my father em*
braced us, and insisted upon our taking each hia share of the estate,
which BO nncie of ours purchased, that it might not be alienated from
tíie family. The portion of eacl^ I remember, amoonted to three
thousand ducats. We all took our leave of our good &ther oa tin
same da;; and, thinking it inhuman to leave him iüihis advairaedage
with so reduced an income, I prevailed on him to take back two Üton-
sand ducats &om my share ; the reniainder being sufficient to equip
me with what was necesaarr for a soldier. My two brothers followed
my eiample, and returned him each a thoosúid ducats, so that my
&ther now bad four thousand in ready money, and the value w
three thousand more, which was his share of the land- In short,
we separated, not without much grief on all aides, and mutual pro-
mise* of correspondence 1 one of my brothers taking the road to
Salaoutnoa, the other to Seville, and Ito Alicant. It is now two-and-
twenty yean since I left my father, and in all that time 1 have beard
nothing either of him or of my bmtheis, although I have sent than
BuuT letters. But I shall now biieBy relal« to you what has bebUen
me auring that period.

"On my arrival at Alíoant, finding a vessel bound to Genoa with a
oa^o of wool, I embarked, and hfud a good paasure to that dty.
Thence I proceeded to Milan, where I furmsbed myself with arms and
military ñuery, intending at that time to enter the service of Piedmont;
but hearing, on my journey to Alexandria de la Faglta, that the duke
of Alva was entering f landers with an army, I changed my mlntL and
joined the duke, whom I continued to serve in all hia battles, and wm
present at the death of the Counts U'EgmontaDdUum. I procured an
ensign's commission in the company of the celebrated captain of
GuBOal^ara, named Diego de Urbma. Soon after my arrival in Flan-
den, news came of the league concluded between Pope Pius V., <tf
happy memory, and Spain, against the common enemy the Turk ; who
aboui the same time had talün the island of Cvpms ñnm the Vene-
tians, a serious loss to that republic. Don Jonu of Austria, natural
brolher of our good King PhiUp, was appointed generalissimo of thia
alliance, and such great preparations for war were everywhere talked
fit, that I conceived an ardent desire to be present in the expected
engagement ; therefore, in spite of the assurances I had received of
being promoted, I relinquished alL and resolved to go into Italy ; and
fortunately for my design. Don John passed through Genoa, on hia
w^toNaples, to job the Venetian fleet. In the glorious action which
followed I was engaged ; and, more from goo^iap than merit, waa
already advanced to the honourable i>ost of captain. But on that d^,
•o hqipy fox Christendom, bf showing th^ faUao7 of the prevailing

A.OOgIC

IHB CAmrfB ADVnTUSXS. 907

t^ñnidii, flut Ibe Turks were inrmoible at tea— rai that da;,aoI»iiiii>
iuOag to Ottoman pride, I iloDe Temamed tmrortnnate ; for inrelr
moreliapOT vere the ChnstiBns «ho died cm that occaiion tliau the
«iTTiTorel Instead of Teoeiving s dbtsI crown for my eemcei, I
found myself ttie followmg night loaded with chaina.

" My miafortone was oMsaioned in thii way. üchalL Idng of
Algiers, a bold and sacceasful conair, having boüded and Ukeo the
ciqit^-galley of Malta, in which three kni^ts only were left alire,
«oá tJKwe desperately wounded, the oantain-galley of John Andrea
lyOtÍA came up to her relief, on board oí «rhieh I was with mv com-
pany : and acting as m; duty enjoined apon this ocoason, I leaped
uto we enemy's gidley, expecting to be followed by my men; but the
two reaaels aepatatrng, I waa left alone among enemies loo munerona
fw me to reaist, and carried off prisoner, after reoeÍTÚig many woundi.
Thw D<diaU eeoaped, and I remained his captive— the only monmer
madsy<^joy,— aaUnat the moment when so many were aet free I—
for fifteen thousand Christiaju from the Torkid galleys were on that
á»j restored to liberty. I was carried to Constantinople, where the
Qñnd 8ignor Selim appointed my master general of t^e sea for his
barery, and for having brought off the flag of the order of Malta.

"'Hie following year, which woe sereu^-two, I was at Havarino,
lowing in tbe captain-gáiley of the Tirtt Lantiortu ; and there I ob-
■erved Uie opporlnnily that wn then lost of taking the whole Turkish
fleet in p(Si: for all the LeraotiiKS and Janiieries on board took it for

Cled that they should be attacked in the very harbour, and had
' bagg^ aodpassunaqnai in readiness for making thrar escape
w titan, without intending to resist — sudi was the terror which our
an? had bupired. But it was iH-dered otherwise ¡ not through any
fiUH in onr general but for the sins of Christendom, and because Ooa
ordains that there should always be some scourge to (diastise ns. In
aliort, UchaU got into Modon, an island near Navanno ; and putting
his men on shore, he fortiOed the entrance of the port, and remained
qmet nntil the seaaon forced Don John to return home. In this cam-
pa^ the galley called the Pñit, whose caotaiu was a son of the
nmoaa eoraur Barbaroesa, was taken bv theSM^ieoif^ of Naples, com-
nmded by that thanderbolt of war the fortúnate and nmncibie captain
IÍDnAlTarsdeBasaii,marquiaof8antaCmz. I cannot forbear relatiuK
what happened at the taking of this vessel liie son of Barbarossa
was w cruel, and treated his slaves so ill, that as soon as the rowers
■aw that the SAe-ieo^ma ready to board them, they all at once let
fUl their oars, and aeiang their captain, who stood near the poop, they
teased him aloi^ from huik to bank, and from the poop to the prow.

C'ng him such blows, that befine his body had passed tbe mainmast
smd was gone to hades ; so great was the hatred his cruelty had
ÍB«ñredl

We reinnied to Constantinople, where the year following we
received intelligenoe that Bon John had taken the city of Tunis from
&e Turks, and put Mnley Uamet in possession of it ; tiioa cutting off
file hopes of Mulev Hamida, who was one of the bravest but most
emel of Moors. The Qrand Turk felt this loss very sensibly; and
with that sagacity which is inherent in the Ottoman family, be made
peace with the Venetians (to whom it was very acceptable) ; and the
next reAr he attacked the fortress of Goleta, as well as the fort which
]>aii John had kit half finished new Tunis. During all these tram-

308 sos QDUOTB.

actirau I was still at tbe oar, «ithoot 0117 hcFpe of Tedemption ; lieiBf

determined not to let my hiher know of my OMtivity. The GoleU
and the fort vere both loat, having been attacked b; the Turki vith
an army of sevent>'-five thousand men, besides above four bnndred
thousand Moors and Arabs ; which vast multitude was fuiutshed with
inunense quantities of ammunition and warlike stores ; blether with
M> many pioneera, that each man bringing only a handful of earth might
have covered both the Goleta and the furt. Although the Goleta wa»
until then supposed to be impregnable, no blame attached to the de-
fenders ; for it was found that, water being no longer near Uie stufaM
as foimerly, the besicgera were enabled to raise mounds of sand that
commandea the fortifications : and thus attacking them by a oaTalier,
itwaaimpoBsible to make any defence. It hasbeenignorantlyaBBert«a
that our troops ought not to have shut themselves up in the Goleta,
but have met the enemy at the pUce of disembarkment — as if »o
small a number, being scarcely seven thousand men, oould have at
once defended the works and token the field against such an orer-
whelming force ! But many were of opinion, and myself among the
rest, that the destruction of that place was a j)rovidential circum-
stance for Spain ; for it was the forge of iniquity, the sponge, the
devourer of countless sums, idiy eipended for no other reason than
because it wm a conipiest of the ¡nvincible Charles the Fifth : as if
his immortal fame depended npon the nteservation ot those ramparts !
The fort was also so obstinately defended, that above five^and-twenty
thousand of the enemy were destroyed in twenty -two general assaults ;
and of three hundred that were left alive, not one was taken nn-
wounded: an evident proof of their unconnnerable spirit. A little
fort, also in the middle of the lake, comraandeabyüonJohnZanoguera.
of Valencia, yielded upon terms. Don Pedro Portocsrrero, ^neral
of Goleta, was made prisoner, and died on his way to Constantinople,
broken-hearted for the loss of the fortress nhieh he had so bravely
defended. They also took the commander of the fort, Gabrio Cer-
bellon, a Milanese gnitleman, a great engineer, end a brave soldier.
Several persons of distinction lost their bves in these two garrisons :
among whom was Pagan U'Oria, knight of Malta, a gentleman well
known for his eialtediiberaJity to his brother, the famous John Andrea
D'Oria; and his fate was the more lamented, having been put to death
by some African Arabs, who, upon seeing that the fort was lost.
Offered to convey him disguised as a Moor to Tabarca, a small haven,
or settlement, which the Genoese have on that coast for the coral-
fishing. These Arabs cut off his head, and carried it to the general of
the Turkish fleet, who made good our Castilian proverb, that ' though
we love the treason, we hate the traitor ; ' for the general ordered
those who delivered him the present to be instantly lianged, because
they had not brought him ahve. Among the CiiHstiaus taken in the
fort was an ensign, whose name was Don Pedro D'Aguilar, an Anda-
lusian. who was a good soldier, as well as a poet. I mention this
beoanse it was our fate to be slaves to the same master : we served in
the same galley, and worked at the same oar. He composed two
sonnets, by Way of epitaph,— one upon Goletv and the other upon the
Tort which 1 will endeavour to repeat ; for 1 think they wüf please

]>0H FKDKO d'a^uilas's boxnbts. 209

Uiesoimete, said, "I beseech yon, sir, before yon proceed, teU me
whkt became of that Don Pedro D'Asuilar." All I know concern-
ing him," answered the captive, "is, triat after he bad been two years
at Constantinople he escaped, disguiaed as aa Arnaut,*iFÍtb a Greek;
and I beiteTe he succeeded in recovering his liberty, but am not cer-
tain- forthoughisaw tbeGrceit about ajear after mCnnstantinople,
Thad not an opportunity of asking him the success of their journey.''
" Tiiat Don Pedro," said the gentleman, " is my brother ; he returned
to Spain, and is now married and settled in bis native city ' he has
three children, and is blessed wltb health and aMuence." "Thanks
be to Heaven ! " exclaimed the captive ; " for what transport in hto
can eqnal that wbicb a man feels on the restoration of his liberty ! "
" I well remember those sonnets whicb you mention," added the gen-
tleman, " Then, pray, sir, repeat them, said the captive ; " for yon
will do it better than I can. Tbe gentleman willingly complied :
that upon the Goleta was as follows :--

SONNET.

O hapi» souls, b; death at length set free
Fi om [he dark priaoa of mortalitj.
By glorious doeda, vhoBo inemor}' never dies—
Frnm eiu-th's dim spot exalted t» the akiaa t
Wliat fiiry stood in ovary oye confcaa^d !
Whnt gonBTDua ardour &-'d each miuiiy broast.
Whilst eliHighter'd heaps diítain'dthessndy shorty
And the ting'd ocsnn bluah'd with hostile goro 1
O'erpowar'd by nirnibers, gioriooslj' ye foil :
Death only ooold such mstchleas courage quell ;
WbUsl dying thug ye triumph o'er your tote —
It* blue the voild, ila glocy heaveo, bettovs 1

SONNET.

IS spread around,
nsan^o'd ground.
Three thousand souls of wuriors. deajl m fight.
To b«lt«r r^ons took their happy flight.
Iiong with uncoar]uer'd souls thoy bravely stood,
Aiuffégu-leaB shed Ibtar unavailing blood :
Till, to superior force oompoU'd to yield.
Their hvee they quitted in the nell-fbnght field.
This fatal »i) ^as eier been the tomb
Of slaughter'd heroes, buried io itaffotub:
Yet bravor bodies did it ne'er sustain.
Nor send more glorious souls Üie skiea to gain.

* A naUve of Albania.

UignieUb, Google

In V&ÚA ú cOJttiniitd Uu hiiíoTJ of dU copítM.

AiTza tlie campBn}> bad ezpreesed their aporobatiou of tlte somteta,
tile captive pursued his stor;. " When the Curka liad got pouessm
of Golela, tlie; eave orders for its demoUtioa : and to les£>ea Ibeff
labour, they undenuiued it in three diSereot pucea : the new vorka,
erected b; the engineer Fratin, CAme easily dowai but the old walla,
though apparently the weakest part, they could not rase. The fle«t
retomed in triumph to CuuEtantinople, aud within a few tiionths,
Uchali, whose slave I had become, died ; he was called Uchali Fartaz,
or the leproQS renegado, beung so uicknained according to the custom
of the Turks, wbo have but lour family surnames, and these descend
from the Ottoman race : the rest of the t>eople are named eiUier from
tbeir incidental blemishes, or peculiarities of body or mind. This
leper had been fourteen years a slave to the ETand sipioc: and when
he vas about four-and-thirty years of age, being irritated by a blow
he received from a Turk while he was al tht; oar, he rcnoonced bis
religion that he might have it in his power to be revenged on biui.
He rose by his bravery alone, and not by the base intrigues of oourl ;
end became king of Algiers, wid afterwards general of the sea, which
is the third command m the empire. He was a mitíve of Calabria, a
man of good morals, and ireated his slaves with humanity. He had
three thousand of them, and in hia will he left one-half of them among
his renegadoes, the other to the grand signor, who is alw^s joint-
heir with the heirs of alt his subjects. 1 fell to the lot of a Venetiaii,
who had been oabin-boy in a vessel taken by Uchali, with whom tie
became a great favourite. His name was Hassan Asa. and one of the
most cruelof that apostate class : he was afterwanb king of Algiers,
and vrilh him I left Constantinople, pleased at the idea of being nearer
to Spain— not that I intended to mfonn my family of my wretched
situation, but I hoped to Cnd another place more favomable to mf
schemes of escape, which hitherto I had attempted in vain. In
AJgiers I purpoGeu to renew my efforts ; for noi withstanding ni7
niunerous dbappointments, the hope of recovering my liberty never
abandoned me ; no sooner did one expedient tail Uiao 1 grasped at
another, which still preserved my hopes alive.

" By these means 1 supported existence, shut up in a prison which
the Turks call a bath • »Tiere they confine iheir Christian cautives—
not only those which belong to the king, bul the captives of jirivale
individuals. lu this place there is also another ckss, who serve the
city in its pubhc work^, and in other offices : they are called the slaves
of the Almazeii ; and as they belong to the public, having no particuhir
master, they find it very difficult to regam their liberty; for even

• The Whs of the Cbriatian CBptives are large cniirtvanJs, the interiors
of wh,eh are «iirrumiclod by mnafl chambcra. Witliin these thecn|.tiv«
wbo nre not tinder strict conSnement Of e aiiclo«ed at night ; the otheis aro
coDfiuod in dungeon*.

THX HOOBISB KADI'S 8IGKAL. SU

vben the; migbi procoie mone^, there &re none witli wbom tíxf can
neeotiate Uieir ransom. The lung's siavea do not work mth Q¡e rest,
umess their ransom is slow in coming, in which esse thej are pat
upon toilsome kboor, to hasten ita arrivaL Aa they knew m; rank
to be that of a capUin, in spite of m; aasunnces that I had neither
interest nor monej, they would place me among those who expected
ta be redeemed i and the cbainlwcore was rather aa a sigs of rsnsom
than to secure m; person.

"Thus I passed years of captivity, with other fcentlemen of oon-
datioa from whom ransom was eipeoted. We suffered much both
from hunger aod nakedness ; bnt these were less painful to endue
than the sight of those unparaUeled and eicessive craelties whkh onr
tyrant inflicted upon his Christian slaTes : not a day passed on wfaidii
one of these uiuurtunato men was not either hanged, impaled, or
mutilated : and often without the least prorocation. Even the Tuib
BcknowletiKcd that he acted thus merely for the gratiflcatloo of his
murderOQs and inhuman disposition.

" One Spanish soldier only, whose name was something de Saaved»-*
■" " d to be in his good graces ; and although his enterprises to
L escape were such as will low be rememiiered there, he nerw
pBTe him a hlow, nor ordered one to fie given him, nor even rebuked
Kim : jet, for the least of many things he did, we all feared he wonld
be impaled alive : so indeed he feared himself, more than once. Did
the time allow, I conld tell yon of some thinigs done by tins soldicT
which would surpriserou more than my own narrative.

" But to return. The court-yard of our place of confinement was
overlooked by the windows of a house belonging to a Moor of distinc-
tion, which, as is nsnol there, were rather peep-holes than windows,
and even these had thick and close lattices. It happened that <a)e
day, as I was uj>on a terrace belonging to our prison with three of my
companions, trying by way of pastime who could leap farthest witn
his ciiains, I acciuenlally looked up, and observed a cane held ont
from one of the windows above ns ; a liandierchief was fastened to
the end of it, which waving, seemed to invite us to take hold of it.
One of my comrades seeing it, placed himself under the cmie, expect-
ing it would be dropped ; but as he approached, the cane was draws
back again. Upon his retiring, the cane was igain lowered as before.
Another of ourparty then went towards it, but was rejected m the
seme manner. The third then tried it. hut without anj better sucoese.
Upon which I determbied to try my fortune ; and I had no sooner
placed myself nndei the cane, than it fell at my feet. I immediately
imtied the handkerchief, and in a knot at one comer found ten eianis
— a sort of base gold com used by the Moors, each piece worth about
ten reals of our money, You will conceive that I f^t no less pleasure
than surprise at this singular eircnmstance, especially as it was so
obvious that the favour was intended exclusively for me. I took my
nonev, returned to the terrace, looked again to the window, and per.
peived a very white hand hastily open and close it. Theuce we con-
jectured that it nmat be some woman residing in that house who had

* The Saavedra here mentjaned la Higuel de Csrvantw Mmself, who in
tLñ passage only spooks oipreBly of hinSslf ; the hero oí the captiva'» tnle
bmag sapUin Visduui, wlio was a SsUon-sunerer vilh him under tho CyisDuy
oi Asaa Ago.

SIS soK QnixoTí,

been thus cliañtaUe ; and to eipress out thanli ve made onr levet-
encca after the Moorish fashion, iuclining the head, bending the body,
aod laying the hands cm the breast.

"Soon after, a small cross made ofcaueirae held out of the window,
and tlien ¿nvia in again. On this signal we concluded that it must
be some Christian womao who was a captive m that bouse ; but the
whiteness of the band, and the bracelet on the wrist, seemed to oppose
this idea. Then again we imagined it might be a Christian rene^sde^
wbom their masters often marrj' ; for thi? value them mure than the
women of their own nation. But our rcasanii^B and conjectures were
wide of the truth. From this time we continued to gaze at the
window with great aniiety, as to our polar star; but fifteen dare
elapsed without having once seen eitlier the hand or any other signed;
»nd though in this interval we had aniiously endeavoured to procure
informaiion as to the inhabitants of that house, we never could learn
more than that the house belonged to a rich Moor, namc^d Agi-Momto.
who bad been alcaide of the part of Bata, an offioe among them of
great authority. At length the cane and handkerchief again appeared,
witli a still larger knot; and at a time when, as before, all tlie other
captives were absent except ravself and three companions. We
repeated our former trial, each of mj three companions going before
me ; but the cane was not let down until I approached. The knot, I
found, contained Spanish crowns in gold, and a super written in
Arabic, which was marked with a large cross. I kissed the cross,
took the crowns, and return to the terrace, where we all made our
reverences. Again 1he hand appeared; I made signs tbat I would
read tiie paper, and the window clos '

none of u_ __

Sreter. I determined at length to confide in a renegado, a native of
lurcia, who had professed ¡limself friendly towards me, aud wiioin,
from an interchange of confidence, I could safely trust : for it is usual
with these men, when they wish to return to Christendom, to procuro
certiñcateg from captives of distinction, attesting their character aa
good Christians. These certiiicEtes are, however, sometimes employed
tor artful purposes. For instance, if on their piratical excursions they
happen to be shipwrecked or taken, thej produce their written
characters, pretending that they had only ioined the pirates to effect
their escape into a Christian country, and by this means live unmo-
lested until they have an opportunity of returning to Barbary to
resume their former course oi^ life. But my friend was not of this
number. With a ^ood design he had obtained certificates, in wliicb
we bad spoken of him in the highest terms; and, had the Mooi^ found
these papers upon him, they would certainly have burnt him alive.
I knew tlial this man was well acquainted with the Arabic language ;
but before I entrusted to him the whole affair, X desired him to read
t^e paper, which I pretended U> have found by chance in a hole of
my cell. He opened it, and stood for some time studj'ing and traus-
laling it to himself. I asked him if he underatood it. ' Perfectly,' he
said, ' and if I would provide him with pen and ink, he would give me
an exact translation. We in.itantiy supplied lum with «hat he
re<[uired, and he wrote down a literal translation of the Mocrisb
paper, observing to us that the words Leila Maryem signiiied our

E'S LGTTBB AKD CiWIVE'fl KEFLT.

" 'When I WM a child, my father had a woman slave who instructed
me in the Cliristian worship, and told me manj' things of Leila
Marjem. This Christian died, and I know she did not go to the fire,
but to Alia ; for I saw her twice afterwards, and she bid me go to llie
ooantrj of the Christians to eee Leila Maryem, who loved me very
much, I know not how it is, thongh I have seen many Christians
from this window, none has looked like a gentleman but thyself I am
Tery beautiful, and ypuns, and have a lireat deoJ of money to carry
away with me. I'ry if thon canst find means for us to get away, and
thou shalt be mv husband, if it piease thee ; and if otherwise, I shall
Mt care, for Leila Maryem wili pnDvidc me a husband. 1 write this
mrself : he careful who reads if. Trust not any Moor, for tliey are
»l! treacherous. I am full of tears, and would not have thee trust any-
body : for if my father hears of it, he will immediately throw me into
a well, and cover me with stones. I will fasten a thread to the cane ;
tie thy answer to it, and if thou hast nobody that can write Arabic,
tell me by siffos — Leila Maryem will enable me to understand them.
Both she and Alia protect thee ! and this cross too, which I often
luss ; for so the captive instructed me.'

" ConceiTe, gentlemen, our emotion at the contents of this paper !
Being indeed so manifest^ the renegado clearly perceived that Íl could
not have been found by accident, but was actually written to one of us;
and he therefore entreated us, if his conjectures were true, to confide in
him ; for he would venture his life for our liberty. As he spoke, he
drew from his bosom a crucifli of brass, and with tears swore by the
Deity that imaae repreaeutpd, in whom, though a sinner, he nrmir
believed, that he would tailbfully keep secret whatever we should

reveal to him : for he honed that through the same means by which
we regained our libertv he should be restored to the bosom of our
ioly cnurch, from whicti, like a rotten member, he had been separated

r libertv he should be restored to the bosom of ■

_ ., ,_. .m whicti, like a rotten member, he had been separa.

thtOQgh his ignorance and sin. This was spoken with such etidi

him the window, out of which the cane had appeared, and he deter-
mined to find out the owner of the house. Havmg considered that it
would be proper to answer the lady's billet, the renagado instantly
wrote what I dictated to him, which I can repeat correctly to you :
for not one of the material circumstances which befel me in this
adventure baa yet escaped my memory, nor ever will, as bug as 1
Kve. My answer to the Moor was this ; —

"'The true Alia preservo thee, dear lady, and that blessed Maryem,
the true mother ofQodI who, because sue loves thee, has inspired
thee with a desire to go into the land of Christians. Pray thai she
will instruct thee bow to obey her commands, and she is so good that
abe will not deny thee. As for myself and Üie Christiana witli me
we are ready to hazard our Uvm to serve thee. Fail not to wrilo and
inform me of tby resolutions, and I will always answer thee : for.
thanks to tbe graat Alia I we have a Christian captive who is well

A.OOgIC

!U DO» quísote.

acqnamted with thy IftUfnaRe ; and thou mayest, without fear, com-
municate anylhinif to us. I jiromise thee, ou the name of a good Chris-
tian, to make thee my wife, as soon as we reach a Christian country :
and be assured tlie Christians perform their promises. AUa and
Muyem his mother, protect thee, dear lady ! '

"My letter teing thni prepared, I waited for two days, when an
opportunity again offered of bcin? alone on the temce ; and the csoe
soon made its appearance, thoiigh I eould not see by whom itwii
held. I found tfie thread already attached to the end of it to receive
my letter, which I immediiitelT fastened to it. Shortly after the
handkercniet was dropped, in wiuch I now found gold and sQyer ccm
to the amonnt of fifty crowns — a joyful sight, when regarded as the
means of obtaining liberty. On the same evening we were told by
our renegado that this house was inhabited by n very rich Moor,
named Agi-Morato ; and that he had an only danghter, neiress to his
whole property, who was considered the most heautifnl wnman in all
Barbary : and that several of the viceroys who had been sent thither
had aoug-ht her in marriage, but that she had rejected them. He alao
learned that she had a Christian woman-skve, who died some time

r escape into Cbris-

, -„..- hou]' * ' "

letter from Zoraida (the name of her who n
Itfaria) ; for it was obvious that she was in possession of tbe snreit
means of effecting oar design. During the four followbg: daya, the
bath was constantly fidl of people ; but the first time it was vacant
the cane again appeared with the prolific haodkerchief. The billet I
then received contained these words :—

" ' I do not know, dear aignor, how we are to get to Sptdn inor has
Leila Maryem informed me, although I have asked her. The only
means 1 can think of is to convey to thee through this winiiow a la^e
anm of money, with which thou mayest redeem thyself and friends ;
one of whom may then procure a bark from the land of the Christiana,
and return to the rest. I will be ready in my father's garden, at the
Sabazon-gate, close to the sea-side— thou mayest safelv convey me
thence to the bark ; but remember thou art to be my husoand ; other-
wise I will pmy to Maryem to punish thee. If thou canst trust
nobody to go for the bark, ransom thyself and go ; for I shall be
seoore of thy return, as thou art a gentleman and a Christian. Take
tare not to mistJie the garden; wlicn I see thee walking there, t
shall conclude thou art alone, and will furnish thee witn money.
Alia preserve thee, dear signor I '

" On hearing the proposal contained in this letter, each offered him-
self to be the ransomed person; promising faithfulbr to return with
the boat. But the renegado would not trust any of oa : for he said
he well knew, by esperience, how seldom promises made in slavery
are remembered after a release from bondage. Many captives of dis-
tinction, he said, had tried this expedient : ransommg one, to send
with money to Valencia or Majorca, in order to procure a vessel foi
the oraiveyance of others ; but none ever retomea to fulfil his engage-
ment i fcxc the dread of again falling intfl captivity effaces fnon tna
,, .A.HOglC

THE C&FTIVB AM) COMUSIOHB KABGOICBD. 215

roemor; every other obligation. In confinnBtian of what he said, be
relatea to ns many eitrsonünar; instances of the kind ; tmd he oon-
cluded with sayiu^ that the best way would be to give the money
intended for the ransom of aCbristian, tobiiii, that he might purchue
a vessel there, in AJ^^crs, under pretence of turning' merchant, and
tradioff to letusn, and along the coast ; that when master of the
Teasel be ooald easily contrive means to get ua from the bath, and put
as on board ; especially if tlie Moor would furnish money enough to
zedeern us all. The sreatest difficulty, be said, was that the Moora
do not allow a reuenBiIo to have anv but Urge vessels &tted for pir»-
tioBl uses, as they suspect their rc^ motives, if they purchase small
<Kie8 ; but he thought this objectiou might be removed bytaking in ft
Tagarin Moor as a partner in his mercantile conocm. Having once
[iDt a vessel at their command, he assured us we might consider ever;-
«úng as acMHnplislied.

" Althongh my oompanions and myself would have preferred send-
ing for the vessel to Majorca, as the Moorish Udy proposed, yet we
dued not contradict him, lest he should betray our project, and by
discovering the clandestine correspondence of Zuraida, endúiger her
life, for whom we would willingly have sacrificed our own : we there-
fore resolved to commit ouraelvea into the hands of God, and trust
the renesado. He instantly wrote my answer to Zoraida, saying that
we wouÚ do all she advised, for she had directed as well as if Leila
Maryem herself had inspired her ;. that the delay or immediate eiecn-
tionof the plan depended solely upon herself; and I repeated my
proDÜae to become her husband. The next day. therefore, when the
bath was clear, she at varióos times, with the nelp of the cane and
kandkerchief, gave us two thousand crowns iu gold, and a paper
informing me that on the first Jama, that is Friday, she was to go to
her father's garden, and that before she went she would give us more
money : desiring ns to tell her if it was not sufficient, as she ooold

S've us anv sum ; having such ahuudaooe under her oare that her
ther would never miss it.

"Weimmediatciyeave five hundred crowns to the renegaoo, to
buy the vessel With eight hundred I ransomed myself, and depo-
sited the money with a merchant of Valencia then at Algiers, who
redeemed me from the king ; passing his word for me that by the first
ship from Valencia my ransom shonld be paid: for had he paid him
then, it would have made the king suspect that it had lain some
time in his hands, and that he had employed it to bis own use. Indeed
it would have been by no means safe, with a master of such a dispo-
sition as mine to have paid the money immediately. The Thnrsoay
preceding the Friday on which the fiur Zoraida was to go to the
garden, she gave us a thousand crowns more, with a billet entreating
me when I was ransomed to seek her father's garden, and take ererr
c^wrtunity of seeing her. I promised her in a tew words that I
would not fail, and oegged that she would recommend us in her
pr^tera to Leila Maryem. We now concerted the means for redeem-
ing our three eonpanions, lest if I were ransomed without tl)cm
they might feel uneasy, and be tempted by the devil to do something
to the prejudice of Zoraida : 1 therefore ransomed them in the saine
w^, and placed the whole amount in the hands of the merchant, that
be might have no fear in becoming responsible for us ; although we
did not ft^fnit him into QUI oonfideoco*

A.OOgIC

CHAPTER XL!.

Witrein IÍ4 rafliet amtinnu kü lUny.

"Ous renegado about fifteen days afterwards pnrcboae^ uTerjpiod
bsrk, lai^e enough to bold ttuii.; pcruiiis : and to prevent suspidan
he made & short voyage to a place called Sargcl, thirtr letiguea from
iJgteta, tovards Oraa— a place of great trade fur dried ñgi. Twoor
three time» he made this trip, aceompanied by hia Tafnirin partner.
The Moore o^ Arragon are in Barbary called Tagannn, and thoM
of Granad^ Mudejares ; and in the kingdom of Fez the Mudejarps

^«rden,

„ le frott, which her father often mn him, without knowing

who he was. Hia objecC was to speak toZotaida, and tell her that
he was the person whom I had entrusted to convey her to Christen-
dom, and that ahe mij^t feel in perfect security. But this was
imp08sibl& as the Moorish woman never suffer themselves to be seen
cither by Moor or Turk, unless by the command of their busbundfi or
&thers : tbouKh Christian slaves, it is tme, are allowed to converse
with them, and perhaps even with too mneh freedom. 1 should have
been sorry iif he had spoken to her, as she might have been alarmed at
the afhirnaving been entrusted to a renegado; bathehadnoopportn-
tdty of effecting Ids design. Finding that be could now safelr go to and
from Sargel, and anchor where he pleased, and that the Tagaiin, his
partner, was wholly subservient to him— m short, that nothing was
~uitÍDg bnt some Christians to assist at the oar — he desired n '-

.*-* r i_ 1 1 J „ 4.1,.^ i„n — _: — xi_:J_,

immediately engaged twelve Spaniards, all able rowera, wham jnat
that time it was no easy matter to proeare ; for there were {wen

detenmne on onr pwty, and be^ r(»dy on the following Friday. I
" ■ '' ' ' . . . t. • i 11 1 1 ^-gra, whom iiiat at

_ ... , ._ ^_ , ... there wereiwentr

corsairs out on pirating excursions, and they had taken ahnost aU
the rowere with them. All I said to them was, that they must stcAl
privately ont of the town on the following Friday, in the dusk of the
evening, and wait for me near Agi-Morato's garden; and with this
caution, which I cave to each separately, that if they should see any
other Cnmtiana there, they had only to say I ordered them to stay for
me in that plaoe.

"After these steps were taken, one thing was yet wanting, and that
the most essmtial of all namely, to apprise Zoraida of our intended
movements, that she might not I» alarmed if wc rushed upon her with-
out previous warning. 1 went, therefore, myself, on the dav preceding
oar departure, to the garden, under pretence of ifathering herbs. The
first person i met was her father, who uddreaaca me in a jargon which
is used over all Barbary, and even at Constantinople, amoi^ the csp-
tirea and Moors. It is neither Morisoo nor GastiliaiL nor the languaKO
ti any other n^ion, bat a medley of several, and is very generallr

CONVXBAATIOK WITH EOKAISI. 817

imderatood. He Mked me what 1 songlit fot in tliat garden, and to
vhom I belonged P I told him that I «u B slave of Aniaut« Mami, his
friend, and that I came to reqnest herbs for his table. He tbenasked
me iF I vaa npon ransom ? At this moment the fair Zoralda, having
obserred me in the giirden, had quitted the house, and came towards
ns. Her father seemg her slowl; approach, called her to him. It
would be in Tain for me to attempt to describe the beautiful creature
who then appeared before my eyes. More jewels hung about her
lovelf Beck, aud were sospenoed from her can, or scattered orer her
tieaaes, than she had haira oo her head. Her ancles were, acconUng
to custom, bare, and encircled b; cartaxes, or foot-bracelets, of the

C«t gold, and so studded with diamonds that, as she told me since,
father valued tbem at ten thousand pistolea ; and those she wore
on ber arms were of eq;ual laiue. Pearls of the fiuest jiualitv were
sbewed about her iu profusion: those precious fceois, indeed, form
one of the principal emiielltshments of tbe MoorisL ladies, and are,
therefore, in great reqnest among tbe nativea. Zoraida'a father was
said to have possessed them in abundance, and other wealth to ttie
«moont of two hundred thousand crowns: of all which she who ia
DOW mine was once sole mistress. Whether or not slie then appeared
beautiful thus adorned, and in the days of her prosperity, may be
eoiijectured b; what rcmmns after so maiu' fatitrocs; for it is well
known that beauty is olten at the mercy of aocident as well as liable
to be improved or unpaired b; the passions. In short, I gaced upon
ber as the most lovely object my eyes had ever beheld. Indeed, when
Iconsidercdmy obligations to her, I could only regard her as an angel
descended from heaven for my deliverance.

" When she had oume np to us, her father told her in his own lan-
irnage, that 1 was a captive belonging to his friend Amante Mami.
^le then asked me, iu that medley speech which I mentioned to you,
whether I was aRCutlemao, and woy I did not ransom mvself. I tola
ber that I was already ransomed, aud by the sum whicQ was to be
paid she might judge how my master ranked me, whose demand had
been fifteen hnndred pieces of eight. ' Truly,' said she, ' had yon
belonged to my father, he should not have parted ivilh you for twice
that sum : for you Christians always deceive in the account you giro
of yourselves, pretending to be poor, in order to cheat the Moors.'
' It may be so, signora,' answered L, ' out, in truth, I dealt sincerely
with mv master, and shall ever do the same b^ everybody.' ' And
when do you go away P ' said Zoraida. ' I believe tO'Uiorrow,' stud
I: 'for there is a French vessel which is expected to sail then, and
1 intend to go in her.' ' Would it not be better,' replied ¡ioraida,
' to stay until some ships come from Spain, and go with one of them,
rather than with tbe French, who are not your friends ? ' 'I think
not, signore,' replied I: ' bnt should the late intelligcnoe of the arrival
of a Spanish ship prove true, I would perhaps stay a short time
longer ; it is, however, more probable that I shidl depart to-morrow :
for I so ardently desire to be in my own country, and with the
persons I love, that I am impatient of any delay.' ' You are,
perhaps, married,' said Zorwda, 'and therefore anxious to return,
and he at home witlt your wife f ' ' No, indeed,' I replied, ' but
I am nnder an engagement to marrr as soon as I return. ' And is
the lady to whom you are engagea beautifulP ' said. Zoraida. ' So
beavtifel,' answered I, 'that to oompliment her, and say^ the bruth,
A.OOgIC

Bhe is ver7 like joaratM.' Her fotber laiubed faeartQy at this, and

aation. beine better acaoainted than slie waa with the language ; for,
thougfi she knew sometDing of it, she expnssed ber mesiuiig more by
signs than words.

"While we were thus engaged, aUoorcame mmiing to ns, cr^ma
aloud that four Turks bad leaped over the wall of the garden, and
were feathering the fruit, though it was not vet ripe. Tlie old mait
as weU as Zoraida, was much alarmed ; for tne Moors are afraid of
the Turks, especially their soldiers, whose conduct towards them is
insolent and imperious ; even more so than to their sJaTOS. Zoraida's
father therefore said to her, ' Daughter, make haste into tbe house,
and lock yonrself in, while I go and speak to these doRS ; and you.
Christian, gnther your herbs, and begone in peace, and Alia send ywi
safe to your own country.' I made my obeisance, and he went rfter
the Tarks. Zoraida also retired, but as soon as her father was out of
sight she returned to me, and said, with her eyes fall of tears,
'Ataméji, ChriatianoP Ataméjií' that is, 'Art tnoo going away.
Christian? Art thou goini;!'' 'Yea, dearest lady,' said I. 'hnt
not without you. Espect me the neit Juma, and be not alarmed
when jon see os : for we will convey you safely to a Christian land.'
Bhe nnderstood all that I said ; and, throwing- her arm about my neck,
she began wiüi faltering steps t^i move towartu the house ; «hen, unfor-
tunately as it might bave proved, her ftrfher returned and saw us in that
attitude. We were aware that he had seen na, and Zoraida had the
presence of mind not to take ber arm from mv neck, but rather held
me closer ; and letting her head faU upon my breast, and beading her
knees, she pretended to be fainting : so that I appeared to be uiuler
the necessity of supporting her. Her father came running to us, and
seeing his daughter in that situation, inquired the oause. But as
^B made no replv, he said, 'These d(^:s have certainly terriBed
her/ and taking ber from me, he supported her in his arms; and
she, heaving a deep sigh, with her eyes still fall of tears, said,
'Ameii, Christiano, ameii!' ' B^;one, Christian, begone!' Her
father stai, 'There is no occasion, child, for the Christian to go
away ; he has done you no barm, and the 'Tiirks are gone off. Be not
aUrmed, for there is no danger.' ' They have indeed frightened ber
Tery much,' said 1, ' and as she desires me to go, 1 will not disobey ;
but, wiih your leave, 1 will come again to this garden for herbs.
Peace he with you.' 'Come whenever you please,' said Agi-Morato;
' for my daughter does not say this as having been offended bj
you or any other Christian.' I now took my leave of them both;
and she looking as if her soul had been rent from her. went away
with her father, while I, under pretence of gathering oerbs, care-
fully surveyed tbe whole garden, examining all the inlets and o«t-
lets, the strength of the house, and whatever might t^id to facilitate
our business,

"Having finished my observations. I communicated to the reno-
gado and my companions all that had passed, aTixiously wishing for
ue hour whea I might securely enjoy the hanpineas which fortune
preaented to me in lie oompany of Ute beratiful Zorauk.

, , . .A.OOgIC

FRBFARIIIOKS FOE ES^^AFB.

with the fairest prospect of success, the day foltowin? niyintervie'
with Zoraida, our renefrado, at the close of tiie eveninii, cast anchor
■haost opposite her resideace ; and the ChriBtiftns who vert to be
emplojcd id the oar vere ready, and conceided about the uei^rh-
boórhood, anxiously waiting for me, and eager to sarprise the bark,
which was Ijiuft within view ; for they knew nothing of our plan, but
thoojHit Ihey were to regain their lilierty by force and by killing the
Moors who were on board the vessel: they joined us, therefore, the
moment we made our &ppearuiice. Tbe crítitál time was now arrived,
tbe city nitesbeinKshnC, and not a person to be seen abroad: we there-
fore dehberated wnether it would be better to go first to Zoraidn, or
aecore the Moors who rowed tbe vessel. In the meantime, our
renegada came to ns, asking us why we delayed? for that now was
tlie time, all his Moois being thonghtless of danger and most of them
Mieep, When we told him wh¿ we were consulting about, he
■ssored ns that it waa necesaary ñist to seize tbe vessel, which might
be done with the utmost ease and safetv ; and then we mi^bt po for
Zonuda. We all approved his oounsel, and guided by him imme-
diately proceeded to the vessel -when ne leaping in firet drew his
entlass, and said in Morisco, 'Let not one man of you stir, or be
ahall instantly die.' All the Christians quickly followed their leader;
and the Moora, who were cowardly fellows, in great alarm and wilh-
(mt making an» resistance (for indeed they hod few or no arras)
quietly aufferea themselves to be bound, which was done in a
moment; the Christians still threatening that if they made the least
noise they wotdd instantly put them all to death.

" This being done, and half our number left on board to guard
them, the remainder, led on by tbe renegado, went to Agi-Morato's
prden. Fortunately the door opened as easily to us as if it had not
been locked ; and we came up to the house in profound silence. The
lovely Zoraida was waiting for na at a window; and hearing ns
approach, she asked in a low voice whether we were Na/areni — that
i^ Christians. I answered in the affirmative, and desired her to come
down. She knew my voice, and instantly obeyed the summons,
ap^aring to ns beaatifnl bej-ond description, and in the richest
■ttire. I took her hand, and, kissing il the renegado and the rest
of OUT party followed my example, thinking that I only meant to
express oar thanks and acknowfei^meota t^ her as the instrument
of onr deÜTeroDoe. The renegado asked her in Morisco wheth^
her fether was in the house. She said that he was, but that he
wosulcep. ' Then we most awake him,' replied the renegado, 'and
earry him and all his treasun» with ns.' 'No,' said slie, 'my
father sholi not be toncbed ; and there is nothing of much value but
what I have with me, which is sufficient to satisfy and enrich yoa
all: wait a moment and roti shall oee.' She then went in again,
pt«mising to return qnicuy, and entreiatiiig na to be silent. The
renegado having told me what hod passed, I insisted that she should
be obeyed in every thing, Zoraida soon retumel with a httlo trunk
BO full of gold crowns that she could scarcely carry it.

" Id the meantime the father of Zoraida unfortunately awoke, and

hswinp a noise in the (^den, looked out at the window and saw the

ChriBttans. Upra whub be cried out as loud ai be ooold in Arabic.

,, .A.OOgIC

no DON qinZOTX.

' ChristiaDS, Christüna ! thierefi, thieves ! ' Hia ontciy threw ns sU
into the utmott constenution. The reneeado, perceivins our duifrer
aiuJ tbe necessity of prompt exertion, rushed up witb seTeral others
to the chsmher of Aei-Morato ; trhile I remained belov, not dsrit^
to quit Zocaida, who had fainted in my arms. They acquitted them-
solTea 80 well tW in a moment they came down with their {irisoncr.
his hands tied, and hia mouth stripped witb a handkerchief, ana
threatening, if he made tbe least noise, that it would cost him his
life. Wheo Zoraida saw her father, she covered her eyes, to avoid
the sight of him; and he was astonished to see her with as, but
little thought how willinglr she had put iierself into oar hands.
Vie hastened with all possibie speed to the bark, where our com-
rades were waiting for us with impatience; and scarcely two boure
of the niicht had passed when we were all rafely on boara, We now
untied the hands of Zoraida's father, and took the handkerchief out
of his mouth ; but the renegado again warned him, at peril of his
lif& not to speak a word. ^Vhen he saw hia daughter, he began to
sigh piteoosly ; especially when he observed that 1 hdd her closely
embraced, without resistance or comphdnt on her part : nevertheless
he remained ailent, lest we should put the renegado s threat into
execution.

" TV'hen Zoraida saw that we were on the point of leaving the
coast, she bei^d the renwado to commnnicale to me her wish
that I would unbind the Moors, and set her father at liberty, for
that she would sooner throw herself into tbe sea than behold a
parent who loved her so tenderly carried away captive before ber
eyes, and upon her account. The renegado told me her request,
tuid I desired that she might be gratiñed ; but he refused to com-
ply, sa/ing that if they were put on shore at that place they would
unmediately raise the country and despatch armed vessels to pursue
ns ; and, thus beset by sea and land, it would be impossible for us to
escape : all, therefore, that could be done was to give them their
liberty at the first Christian country we should touch at. In this
opinion we all concurred j and Zoraioa was herself satisfied, on hear-
ing our dt^termittution, with the reasons why we could not then gtant
her request. With glad silence and cheerful dihgence, our brave
rowers now handled their oars ; and recomniendinf^ ourselves to God
with all our hearts, we bc^aa to make towards the island of Majorca,
which is the nearest Christian land. But the north wind betrinoinr
to blow freshly, and the sea being somewhat rough, it was foiuid
impossible to steer our course to M^orca, and we were compelled to
keep along shore towards Oran ; though not without great apprehen-
sions of being discovered from the town of Sargel, which lies on that
coastj about sixty miles trom Algiers. We were afraid, likewise, of
meeting in our passage with some of the galleots which bring nier-
chandise from Tetuan ; though, unless it was a cruizer, we trusted
we should be able to defend ourselves, if not capture some vessel
wherein we might more securely pursue our voyage. During this
time Zoraida kept het bead constantly upon my breast, that she might
not look at her lather ; and I could hear her continually calling upon
Iiella Maryem to assist us.

" We had rowed about thir^ nulea when morning dawned, and we
found ourselves near ashore which seemed to be quite a liesert, and
no human creature to be seen. However, by labouring hard at tbe

A.OOgIC

DUTRKSS <a EOKAIDA a

-o repose, but that they could eat and re ., _.

if Ü10M vho were itneioployed would iuppljtbem. Thisv . ...,
but soon the wind bepsn lo blow a brisk gJe, which compellf d us to
liy Rude our oars ; therefore boistiofi üíl, we steered directly to
Oran, as it wea impossible to hold any other course; and we pro-
ceeded with Rreat rapidity, without any other fear than that of
mectii^ Bome corsair. We gave provisions to the Mooriah pri-
soners, oondbrtinz tbem with the assurance that they were not
slaves, but should have their liberty the first opportumly; and we

Cmised the same to Zontida's father. 'I might hope for much,'
replied, ' from your liberality and (feverous treatment, O Chris-
tians ! but I ua not so simple as to expect my liberty, or that you
would expose yootaelves to dan$^r in roobing me of it without some
new to my ransom; however, you have only to name the sum yon
requim fur myself and this my unhappy daughter, who is the better
part of my sua!,' Ue then wept so bitterly that we were moved to
compasaiim ; and Z<iraida lookin:; up and seeing her father in tears,
left niK to throw herself into his arma. Nothing could be more affecting
than the scene. The fatiier now observing her rich attire, said,
' Huw is tliis, daughter P— last night, I saw you dressed as usmiL
and DOW you are adoi-ned in ycmr gayest apparell' She answered not
a word. The renegado interpreU'd to us what the Moor had said,
for he had spoken in his ownlangiiage. He then noticed the casket in
which bis daughter kept her jewels, and being still more perplexed,
he asked how it had come into our bands, and what it contamed.
The renegado now int<-rp03ed, saying, ' l>o not trouble your^if with
M> many questions, siguor ; fur in a word I can answer alt— your
daoghter is a Clirisliau, and has been the means of ¿ling off our
chains and restoring us to hberty. She is here with her own con-
Mait, and I beheve, well pleased ; like one who goea out of darkness
ijito bght, from death to life, and from suffering fo glory,' ' Is this
true, daughterf said the Moor. "It is,' answered Zoraida. 'You
are iJieu become a Christian,' replied the old man, ' and have thrown
your father into the power of his enemies F' To which Zoraida
answered : ' I am indeed a Christian, but I never thonght of doing
you barm ; I only wished lo do myself good.' ' And what good have
you done yourself, my datighterr 'Ask that,' answered she, 'of
Leila Maryem, who can tell yon better than 1 can.' On hearing his
daughter spejdc thus, the Moor with endden impetuosity threw him-
self headlong into the sea. and would certainly have been drowned
had not the wide and cumbrous garments he wore kept him a short
time above water. Zoraida called out to us to save ium, and we idl
hastened to his assistance, and dragged him out half 'drowned and sense-
les^asightwhich so much affected ¿oraida that she lamented over him
a* if he were dead. We placed him so that he might disgorge the
water he had swallowed, and in about two hours he recovered hia
senses. In the meantime, the wind changing, we were obliged to
ply our oars to avoid running upon the shore; and by good fortune
we came to a oreek by the side of a small promontory, which by
tlie liiaoa ia called the c^e of Cava Bniiiia, meaning m our lao-

fiSS BOX ofiaaa.

rnage 'TbewkkedChnitianTomani' ferthelíoonhareatradítiflii
tnat Cava," who occasicmed' the losa of Bpsin, lies bmied tbero.
Althougli they reckon it on ill omen to be forced to utclior at áaa
place, it proved a safe harboiir to lU, ooiuideriiig hov bigli ike su
ran. We placed seotiiiels on shorc, and never dropped oar oan ;
and after partaking of the refrestuneuta vliich the rendado had pro-
vided, we prajed devontlj to Ciod and to our Lady for asaiatinw
and protection in the happy aocompliahment of oni enterpriae;
Order was gtvea, al Zoraida » entreaty, to set her father oa uiore,
and also the rest of the Moors, who nntil now had been faat bonad;
for her tender heart could not euduce to see her fathec and oonntr;-
nen under confiuemetit. We promised ber it should be done whü
ve put to sea again, smce we ran no risk in leaving them in so dcao-
late a place. Our prayen were not in rain : for tlie wind piesently
dian^ in oor favour, and the sea was calm, innting lu to pniseoute
ocir voyage.

" We now unbound the Moors, and sent them one by one on shore,
to their great surprise } bat when we came to Znaida's &theT, who
vas then perfectly in his senses, he said, ' Why, Christians, is this
wicked woman desirous of my being set at hberty ? Think yon it is
out of filial piety f No, oertainly : it is becaose my presence wonld
disturb her m the indulgcoce of her evil inclinations. Nor think she
is moved to change her religion because she thinks it better than
ours; no, because ahe knoics that there is more Loeutiousness in

iour country,' Then, tomine to Zoraida, while we held him iaiA,
«t he should do her any violence, he said, ' Thou ill-advised, iitaa
infamous girll whither art thou blindly going with these dogs, our
natural enemies F Cursed be the hour wherein I beeat thee, and
cnrsed the indulgence and luxury in which I bronght thee np I'
Finding him not disposed to be soon silent, I hurried him ashore,
where be continued his eieorationa andwaihngs. praying to Mahomet
that he would beseech Heaven to destroy, coafound, and annihilate
us; and when we had got too far off to hear his words, we could see
hiui tearing his beard, plucking off his hair, and rolling himself o«
the ground : so bish lie once raised his vojoe that these words nacbed
OS, Gome back, beloved daughter ! come back, and 1 will forgive
thee eJI ! Let those men keep the money they have, bat do than
come back, and comfort thy wretched father, who moat perish
in this desert land if (hou forsakeet him [' All this Zoraida heard —
all this she felt and bewailed : but could only say in reply, ' May it
please All», my dear futhor, tWt Leila Alaryem, who has been the
cause of my turning Christian, may comfort you in your affiotítm!
Alk well knows that I could not do otherwise than Ihave done, and
that these Christians owe me no thanks for any favour to thorn, sinec
mr mind would never have had rest until I had perfwined thñ woric,
which to me seems as good as yon, my dearest father, think it bad.
Bat her father could no longer see or hear her. I said all I oonld to
console her as we proceeded on our voyage, and happily the wind
was M favoarabie tltst ve made no doubt of l>eing next morning npoa
the coast of Spain.
" But as good seldom or never comes nnmíxed with evil, it bap-

w oí bringing the Hoar*
, , . .A.OOgIC

Ig ÍDJ of

>r help, m

pened mtforimistely, or periiaps thnrofch tiie cam» the Uoorbo-
Bttnred on bis dangnter (for ft fittber's cune is nlwajs to be dreaded,
«^iBterer he duq' he) — 1 ttj it happaied that about the third hour
of the night, when we ware far out to tea, and under full sail,
we discovered b; the Ught of the mixai aMmid tcsmI with all het
wila out, a little a-beod of us, but so near tliat to avoid mnmng
fonl of her we were forced to strike sail, azid they also put the helm
Wd Dp, to enable ua to paas. The men hod posted tbemselTes on
tbe quarteMlack, to ask who we were, whither wc were goinjr, and,
vbeace we oanie : but ai their inquiries were m I'rench, out rene-
gado said, ' Let no one anawer, for these are certainlj French cor-
sairs, who plunder everything- that falls in their waj.' Upon this
oanbon all were uleut. and we c<Hitiuned our course, their vessel
being to the windwara ; but we had not proceeded far when thej
tndoeolf fiied two guns, and both, as it appeared, with dutin-abot,
for one cat our niast through the nuddie, which together with the
imI fell into tbe sea, and the other at the same instant came through
the middle of our bark, laying it quite open, though without wound-

ir of US. But finding onrselves sinkiotr, we ocftan to cry aloud
D, and entreated them to save oa from dtowmng. They then
■uncdc their sails, and sent out a boat, with twelve frenchmen on
board, wrll aimed with muskets, end their matches lighted; but
seeing bow few we were, and that oor vessel was sinking, they look
na in, and told as that we bad suffered for our inciTility m returning
tliem DO answer. Our renegado took the trunk oontaiuing Zoraida's
treoBiire^ and unpcrccived threw it into tbe at*. In short, we all
passed mto the Trench ship, where, having gained boai us all tbe
information they wanted, they proceeded to treat us as enemiea,
stripping us of ererytbing, even of the braoetets which Zoraida wore

rn her ancles. But 1 suffered most from apprubensioDs lest they
old Tvb her of the moat precious jewel of alL But tbe desires of
these kind of men seldom extend &iither than to money, in the pur-
miit of which they are insatiable. They would have taken away
eren tbe elotbes we wore as sIbvbb, bad thej thought them of the
SB&llcst value, Bome of them propráed throwing ns all overboard,
wrapped up in a sail : for their object was to trade in some of the
Bpaiush porta, pretending to be of Brittaikv; and should tbey ctury na
nth them thej; would there be seiied and Dunishcd for the robbery,
fist the catrtain, who bad plundered my dear Zoraida, aaid he was
oonlei^d with what he had already got, and that be wonld not touch
at any part of Bpaiu, but pass the Straits of Gibraltar by night, and
make tae beat of his «ay for Boohelle, whence be came : aud tbere-
iort thoy finally agreed to provide ns with a boat and what was
BCOeasnj for so short a voya^ as we bad to make. This they did on
the following day, when in view of the Spanish coast, at the iñght d
which all OUT troubles were forgott«air-so great is the delist of
icgatning liberty ! It was about noon when they dismissed ns, with
two barrels of water and some biscuit, Tite captain was even so far
moved by compassion as to ^re Zoraida about forty crowns in gold,
at the sanie time forbidding his soldiers to strip her of her clothes, the
■ante which she now wean.

" We expressed to them more gratitude for what thev refrained
bota doing than resentment for what w« had suffered from them ;
and tbos we separated, the; steering towards tbe Straits, and we

A.OOgIC

towards the land before ns, towiite aa hard that we hoped to retoh it
before moming. Sooie of our party thoaght it unsafe to land at ámk
apon a <x«st vilb which we were onMtqaaintcd ; vbile others were
so impfttieat, that they were for making the attempt even tfamiRh
among rocks, rather than be exposed to the ooreain of Tettiss, «no
are often at nuht in Earbtur? tuid the neit moniinif on the eoaat of
Spun, where the; nsuallr make some prize, and return to sleep at
their own homei. It was agreed at lust that we shoald row goitl;
towards the shore, and, if the sea proved calm, land where we oonld :
and before PiidniRbt we found ourselves close to a hirge and high
mountain, at the foot of which there was a convenient landing-place.
We ran onr boat into the sand, leaped on shore, and kissed the
ground: tlianking God with tears of jo; for the happy termination of
onr perilous voyage. We dragged oar boat on shore, and then
climbed the mountaio, scarcely crediting that we «ere really npon
Christian ground. We were anxions for day-break ; but having at
leugtli gained the top of the mountain, whence we had himrd to dis-
cover some village or shepherd's but, we could see no indications of
human abode ; we therefore proceeded farther into the country,
trusting we should soon meet wilh some person to inform na where
we were. But what moat troubled me was to see Zoraida travel OB
foot through those or^gy places ; for though I somelinips carried Her
in my arnia, she was more distressed than relieved by my labour. I
therefore led her by the hand, and she bore the fatigue with the
utmost patience and cheerfulness.

"Thus we procreded for about a quarter of a league, when the
sound of a little bell reached our earn, which was a signal that flocks
were near ; and eagerly looking around us, we perceived a ^<mn^
shepherd at the foot of a cork-tree, quiellv shaping a stick with hu
knife. We called out lo him, npon which be raised his head and
hastily got up ; and, the first who presented themselves to his sight
being the renegado and Zoraidoj in Moorish babits, he thought all the
Moors in Bartery were upon him ; making, tliereforo, towards the
wood with incredible speed, he cried out, as toad ai be could,
' Moors ! the Moors are landed ! Moors, Moors ! arm, ann 1 ' Wo
were perplcied at first how lo act; but considering that he wonid
certainly alarm the country, and that the mibtia of the coast would
soon be out to see what was the matter, we agreed that the renefado
should strip off bis Turkish habit, and put on a jerkin, or slave's cas-
sock, vbiák one of onr party immediately gave him, leaving hinwelf
only in his shirt. Then recommending ourseWee to Heaven, we pur-
sued the same road that the shepherd had taken, expecting everj
moment tljat the coast-guard would he upon us. Nor were we
deceived in our apprehensions, for not long afterwards, when we
were descending into the plain, we discovered above fifty horsemen
advancing at a half-ffallop ; upon which we stood still to wait their
approach : but as they drew near and found, instead of the Moors
they had expected, a party of poor Christian captives, they were not
a little Burjaised ; and one of them asked us whether we had been tb«
c:iuse of the alarm spread in the country. 1 told bim that 1 believed
so, and was proceeding to inform him whence we came, and who we
were, when one of our party recognised the horseman who hod
questioned us ; and interrupting ne, he exolaimed, ' God be praised
for fahnging u to this part oí the oonstrj 1 far if I am not mistakei^

THB captive's iDTHnrcMi coscluded. 235

the BTOondwa ttaiid upon ia the tetriloij ofVelexHakga; and if
long captivit/ has not impaired m; raemorj', tou, sir, irbo now qncs-
ttoQ ua, are Pedro de Boatamente, my uncle.' Scarce)^ had tha

Christian captive ceased speaking, vhen the horseman threw fatmsflf
from his hone, and na (o embraoethe yoang'msn, si^ng^to liim,
'Dew nephew of niy ion!, I well remember tou I How often Imvc f
bewailed yoor lou, with your motlier ana kindred, who are still
livina- to ei^oy the pleasnre nt seeing you i^rain ! We knew you were
in Algiere ; aikd by your dreas, and that of your companions, I eon-
jeoture thi¿, yoa moat have recovered ynur liberty in some miraciiloua
manner.' ' It is ao, indeed,' answered the yonng man, ' and when on
opportunity offers you shall know the whole story,' As soon as the
horsemen understood that we were Christian captives, they alighted,
and esoh of them invited us to accept of his horee to carry ns tn the
city (A Veki Mala;:^ which was a leatrue and a half distant. Smna
of them vent back to convey the boat tu the ton-n, on being informed
where we had left it; others took us up behind them, and Zomida
rode behind our captive's uncle. T!;e news of our coining hnving
reached the town before us, multitades came out to ffreet us. They
«ere not mnch sniprised hv the sisht of liberated captives, or Moora
made alavés, for the people of that const are accustomed to both '
hat they were ttmck by tne beauty of Zoraida. «4iich then appeared
in perfection ; for the exercise of walking, and the delight or being
RBÍe in Christendom, produced such a oonipleiion that, if my affiKr-
tion did not deceive mc, the world never saw a more beautiful

were very like that of Leila MÚyem. The rcne^ndn told her that site
was rKht,and explaiued to her as well as he could what the; signified,
that Me miüht adore them as the representations of tlint very I^ll^i
Maryem who had apnken to her ; nor waa she alow in comprehending
him, for she had (rood sense, and a ready apurchcnsion. After (hia
they accoamodated us in different honscs of tne town ; and the Chris-
tiui, our companion, took the renegado, Zoraida, and m/seif, to the
honae of bis parents, who treated us with the same kindness tiiey
■howed towaraa their own son. We stayed in Velrz six days ; \i'hen
ttw rBDecptdtX having eained all necessary informatiun on the subject.
lepaired to toe city of Qranada, there to be re-adtnitte<i, by means of
the holy Inquiaition, into the bosom of onr church. The rest of the
tnei optivea each went their own way, lenving Zoraida and myself
to pnmw onn, with no other worldly wealth than the crowns which
tlie courtoi' of the Frenchman had browed on her ; some of which
raved wwnil ii

we sie going to se4 if my father be yet ajive, or whether ny brothei
have beni more fortunate than myself; though since Heaven has

K' len me Zoraida, 1 cannot conceive that any better fortune could
re beblten me. Tha patience with which she bcnra the incon-
veniences Btteudnnt on poverty, and the fctn'Our of her piety, cxcilea
my warmest admiration; and I consider myself bound to serve her all
the days of my life : yet the delight I feel m knowing her to be mino
Ü sometimes disturbed by an uncertainty whether I shall find any
eomei ia my owo country wherein to shelter her ; and also «bcUicr

336 DON QCtxcni.

time OT death ma; not have made mcli altentions in tnj Euml? tlist I '
shall &ad none len to acknowledse me.

"This, gentlemen, is my story; whether it has been entertainnis
or nncommon, you are tlie best ludges ; I can only say, for ray enwn
part, that I would wüUngly have been more brief : and, indeed, I baxe
omitted many circmuftaucea, leat you should think me tedious."

CHAPTER XLIL

As soon Rs the captive ceased speaking, " Tnil;, captain," said Don
demando, "jour Darratire has been so interesting to ua, both Irom
the ei^traordinary nature of the events themselTes, and your maoner
of relating them, that we should not have been wearied, had it luated
till to-morrow." The whole party now offered their serrices with,
such GipressioDS of kindness and sinceritr, that the captain felt highly
gratilicd. Don Fernando in particular ofiered, if be would return with
him, to prevail with the marquis his brother to stand godfather at
Zoraida s baptism ¡ and promised on his own ^«rt to afford him all the
assistance necessary for bis appearance in his own country with the
di^ty and distinction due to his person. The captive thanked him
most courteously, but declined Iiis geoerons offers.

Kight was now advanced, and a coach arrived at the inn, with some
lior^emen. The travellers wanted lodging for the night, but the hoetcaa
told them that there was not aa inch of room disengaged in the who)»
inn. "Notwithstanding that," ^aid one of the men on horsebaok,
"there must be room made foi- my lord judge here in the coach." Oa
hearing Uiis, the hostess was disturbed, and said : " Sir, the truth is,
I liBve tto bed ; but if hia worship, my Wd judge, brings one with him,
let him enter, in Heaven's &ame¡ for I and my husbaJid will quit our
own chamber to accommodate his honour."

" Be it so," quoth the squire : and by thb time a person had
alighted from the coach, whose garb immediately showed the natui»
and dignity of his station : fur liis long gown and tucked-up sleeves
denoted him to be a judge, us his servant bad said. He led by the
hand a young lady, apparently about si:[teen years of age, in a ridiag-
dress, so lovely and elegant in hei person, that all were struck with so
much admiration, that hsd they not seen Dorothea, Ludad^ and
Zoraida, they would never have believed that there was suoh another
beautiful damsel in existence. Don Ouizote was prestud, at their
entrauce, and he thus addressed them ; Your worship may oeeurelj
enter, and range this castle : for however confined and inconveiuait
it may be, plan) will always be found for arms and letters ; eapecitUy
when, like your worship, 'hey appear under the patronage i^oea«t]>:
for to this fair maiden not only castles should throw open wide their
gates, but locks divide and separate, and mountains bow their kiR,*
neads in salutation. Enter, sir, iti'o this paradise ! for here yon will
find suns and stars vrorthy of that lovcJji heaven you bring vith you.

OTHEB OCCÜKKZKCES AT TEE IKK. S27

Bieie pra wiU fiitd traa in IhaJr Eeutli, vaá beaut]' in perfection ! "
The judge m&rvelled greatlv at this speech, uid he eanieati; smrejed
the EnigDt, no leas astonbhed bj his appearance than his discourse,
and was considering what to say in reply, wlien the other iadiea made
their appearanca rttraeted by the account the lioetess had given of
the beeutr of tne young loaf. Don Fernando. Cardcoio, and tlie
priest, paid their compliments in a more intelhgible manner than Don
Quiiote, and all the ladii^s of the castle welcomed the fair stranger.
In short, the judge easily perceived tiiat he was in the company ot
persiHis of distinction ¡ but the mien, visage, and behaviour of Don
Quixote confounded hira. After mutual courtesies and inquiries as to
what accommodation the inn afforded, the arrangements previously
made were adopted : namely, that all tlie women should lod;^ in the
larae chamber, and the men remain wilhout, as their gnard. The
JQdge was content that the young ladv, who was his dau^ter, should
accompany the other ladies, and she herself readily consented : thus,
with part of the innkeeper's narrowbed, toifcther with that which tiiB
judge had brongbt with him, they accommodated thenaelvcs dorinff
the nigtit better than they had expected.

The c^ive, from the moment lie saw the judge, felt his heart beat,
from an impression that this gentleman n-aa his brother. He therefore
inquired his name and country of one of the servants, who told him that
he was the lioentiaie Johnl'erei de Viedmn, and he had heard that his
native place was in a town in the mouotaius of Leon. This account
confirmed him in the opinion that thia was indeed that brother who, by
the advice of his bther, had applied himself to letters. Agitated and
orerjo^ed, he c^cd aside Don Fernando, Cardenio, and the priest^
and onnnuuicated to them hia discoverv. The servant had also tola
hiai that he was going to the Indies, as jndge of the ooorts of Mexico,
and that the young lady was his dauihter. whose mother had died in
ññag her birth, bnt had left her a rich inheritance. He asled them
how they thought he bad best moke himself known, or how he could
ascertain whether his brother, seeing him so poor, would not be
ashamed to own him, or receive him to his bniom with affeotion.
"Leave me to m^e that experiment," said the priest; "not that 1
m^o an; donbt, signer captain, of yonr meeting with a kind recep-
tion; for tbere is an ftppearance of worthand good sense in Tonr brother
which neither implies arrogance nor inalnli^ to appreciate duly the acci-
denta of (wtime. "Nevertheless," said the captain, "I wonM rather
not discover myself abruptly to him." " Leave all to me," answered
the priest, " and I will manage the affair to yonr satisfaction."

A collation being now ready, they all sat down to table, except the
captain, to partee of it, and also the ladies, who remained in their
own ciúmber. The prie^st took this opportnnity of speaking to the
judge : " My lord, 1 had a comrade of your name in Oonslantinopie,
wtwe I WM a slave some years. He was a captain, and one of the
bravest wldicrs in the Spúiish infantry ; bat he was as unfortunate
as bnwe." " Pray, what was this captain's name? " said the jndge,
"He was called " answered the priest, " Ruy Perez de Viedma, and
WW bont in a -village in the motuitains of Leoo. He related to me a
civoomstonce which, from a person ctf less veracity than himself, I
shouhj Imtb taken for a tale such as old women tell by a winter's flie-
sido. He told me that his father had divided his estate equally between
himself aad Ma three sons, and after giving them certain [oscepta

2!S DOS QUIXOTE.

betler than those of Cato, he propoied to tliem (be choice of Ihrw
professions. My friend iiiiopttd lliat of arms, and I tan assure jou
that he wna so successfu!, Ihut in a few j^ars, without wiy other aid
ilmn his oirn bravery and merit, lie rose to the rank of a captain of
foot, and was in the high-road to preferment, «hen fortune jiroyed
ndvcrse, and be lost her farours, together nilh hia liberty, in that

Elorious action which Kave freedom lo so many— 1 mean the cattle of
ifpjinto. I was myseTf taken in Goleta, and afierwards, by differrut
fidreiitures, we became comrades in Constantinople, He was afier-
wards sent to Aiders, where he met wiih one of tne BtiTuigest adven-
tures in the world." The priest then briellv related to him what h:id
passed between his brother and Zoraida. He was iiatc-nrd to by the
}ud^ with extreme attention ; bnt he proceeded no fartlier than to
that point where the Chriatiaits were plundered by the French, and his
comréde and the beautiful Moor left in poverty ; pretending that he
knew not what became of them afterwards, whether tliey ever reached
Spam, or were carried by their captors to Fiaiice.

The captain stood listening- at some distaoce, and watcbine all the
emolions of hia brother, who when the priest and finished hia story
sighed profoundly, andnith tears in bis eyes said, "Oh, sir, yon know
not how nearly 1 am affected by what you hare commnnicaled ! That
gallant captain you mention is my elder brother, who, having enter-
tained more elevated thoughts than my younger brother or myself,
chose the honourable profession of arms, which was one of the thi-ee
pursuits projioscd to ua by our father. 1 applied myself to letters,
which, by the blessing of Heaven and my own eiertioas, has raised me
to my present rank. My younger brother ia in Peru, ahoundiiiv iu
riches, and has amply repaid the sum he took out with hiui. Hel:as
enabled my father to indulge his hberal disposition, and supplied me
with the means of proseculing my studies with every advantage, until
I attained the rank which at present I enjoy. My father ia still
living, and continually prays to God that hia eves may not be closed
in death before he has once again beheld bis nrst-bom son. It sur-
prises me that he never communicated his situation lo his famíl;:', for
had either of us known of it, be need not have waited for the miracle
of the cane to have obtained his ransom. Mt anxiety is now alout
the treatment he may have met with from those Frenchmen ; (his
uncertainty as to his tate will render my voyage most sad and melan-
choly. Oh, my brother ! if I knew but where to find thee, I would
deliver thee at any risk. Ah, who shall bear the news to oar aged
father that thou wt living? Wert thou buried in the deepest dun scon
of Barbary, his wraith and that oí thy brothers should redeem Üiec !
0 lovely and bountiful Zoraidal who can repay thy kbdness to mj
brotherP Who shall be so happy as to witness thy regeneration by
baptism, and be present at thy nuptials, which would ciiu us all s»
much deLght ? " The judge affected all his auditors by llicseund
other demonstrations of sorrow and [rat«mal affection.

The priest, finding he had gained his point according to the cap-
tain's wish, would no lon^ protract tneir pain, and rising froia
table, he went into the adjoming- chamber, and led out Zonuda, who
— ; followed by the other lad:~ <--■--•--'--■<-•- j » -■
I, and introauoed them boti
1- lamentations, for here h

THK CIPTTTE DISCOVEIta HIS BHOTHEft. SS9

They have been reduced to poverty by the Freticb|Onlr to liave od
opportuuity of proving a brothpr's libcrslity." Tlie captain ran
towards his brother, who Erst held biick to look at him ; then, recoe-
Iiising him, he pressed him to his heart, while hia eyts overflowed with
tears of joy. Tlie meeting was mdecd affecting beyond description.
Prom time (o time their mutual inquiries were auspcinded by reucwed
demonstratious of fratemal love: often the judge embraced Ziiraida,
and as often returned her to the caresses of his daaehler : and a most
pleiEJiiz st^hl it waa to see the mutual embraces of the fair Cbiialum
Md lovely ^loor.

Don Quixote was allthia time a silent but attentive observer, sütis-
fled at the correspondence of these singular eveats with the unnuU of
chivalry. It was aitreed tiiat the captain and Zoraida should go with
their brother to Seville, and acquaint tlieir father of hia returu, so tlnit
the old man m\i^i be present at the baptism and nuptials of Zoraida,
jw it was impossible for the jud?e to defer his journey Dcyond a monili.
The night bcbg now far advanced, they proposed retiring to rwiose
dnrins the remainder, Don Qaíxote offering his service to guara the
castle, lest some (fiant, or rather miscreant errant, tempted by the
treasure of beauty there enclosed, ebould presume to make an attack
upon it. His friends thanked him, and took occasion to amuse the
judge with an account of his strange frenzy. Sancho Panza alono wag
out of all patience at silting up so late. However, be was better
ttccommodated than any of them, upon the accontremeuts of his as^
for which he dearly paid, as shall ne hereafter related. The ladies
having retired to their chamber, and ttie rest accommodated as well
u they could be, Don Quixote, acconliog to promise, sallied out of
the inn to take his post al the castle gate.

CHAPTER ILTU.

Jon before daybreak a volee reached the cars of the Iadies_, so
tweet and melodious that^ il forcibly arrested their attentioiL especially
that of Dorothea, by whose side slept Donna Clnra de Viedma, the
dan;^it«r of the judge. The voice was unaccompanied by any instru-
ment, and thev were surprised at the skill ot the singer. Sometime»
tbej fancied that the sound proceeded from the yard, aud at other
times from the stable. While they were in this uncertainty. Cárdenlo
came to the ehamher-door, aud úid, " If yon are not asleep, pray
listen : and yon will hear one oí the muleteers singing cnciiautinily.
Dorothea told him that tbev had heard him ; upon wliich Cardcnío
retired. Then listening wiln much attention, Dorothea plainly dis-
tinguished the following words : —

Tnu'd in H *•> of dotíbta and fean.
Lots'* hapleia nwrioer. I «il

Wh^j'e nd íavjüog poil appean,
"Sa aurean mo &vm the Mormy gale.

:■ , .,..l,C:.OOglc

DOS QÜ1X0TB.

Atdietnnee vion-'cl, a chfforingsfnr
CDn<(ui:ta m« tbroii^'h the Bnulliug tid<

A briglilcr himinary far

Tbaa Pttlitiurm e er dssciied.

Mj sout, attraotod by ito Waso,

Still followi where it hiídU tb» mj.

And, while attentirelv I gnui,
Conaidori not how far I «ray.

But femáis pñde, naorred nnd ehy,
lilca cloiidi that deepen on the day.

Oft shrouds it from my longing eya.
When moflt 1 need the guidju^ tbj,

0, loidy ttar, ao paie «nd bright I

Dorotltes thonplit it wm b great loss to Donna Clara not to hear
such ciceUetit aingins, she then-fore cave her a geatio shake and
awoke her: " Excuse me, my dear, for disturbing you." she said,
"since it is onlv that you may tiavc the pleasure of neahcz the
Bwcetest voice which perhaps tou ever heard in yonr life!" CIutl
half avake, was obliged to asK Dorothea to repeat what she had said
to her; after which she endenyoured to oomniand her attention, hut
had no sooner heard a few words of the song than she was seized with
a tit of trembline as violent as the attack of a nuarlan ague : and,
clingiiig round Dorothea, she cried, " Ah, my dear lady I wliy did you
wake me ? The greatest service that contd he done me would be for
ever to close both my eyes and ears, that I might neither see nor hoar
that unhagipy ninsician." "What do yousay, my dear?" answered
Dorothea; "Is it not a mnleteer who is singing? "Oh no" replied
Clara ; " be is a young gentleman of lai^e possessions, and so much
master of my hcurt that, if he reject me not, it shall be his eternally."
Dorothea was snrprisea at the passionBt« expressions of the fcirt,
which she would not have expected from one of her tender yean. Slie
therefore said to her, "Your words surprise me, Signora Clara:
explain yourself farther ; what is lliia you say of hearts andposaes-
aions — and who is this musician, whose voice afiect^ yon so muah f
Biit stay — do not speak just jet ; he seems t^i he preparing to sing
again, and I must not lose the pleasure (^ hearing faim. Clara, iiow-
. ever, stopped her own ears with both her hands, to Dorothea's gnat
surprise, who listened very attentively to the following

il of patience, airy firad,
.DULii«v»rT&Dt ofa distant good,

Aanvtng ooriliul, kiud deouy ;
Though tortui lu frowns and frieads depart.

Though Sil^m flies raB, flattering joy,
Nor thou, DOT loTD, shall leave my doting heott,

n , . a.ooqIc

THE lOÜKO KDLBTBEB, 2-1

No alma, to laiy oaw rarfffn'd,

E'ar triuiDph'd over uoble foos:
The monarob fortune moet ú kind

To him wbo bravely dares oppms.
They say, Love ratas his bleSBinga Ugh,
Uiit who would priie an easy joy I

My loanijul lair Ihen I'll pursas,
Tbougb the coy beauty still deniee ;

1 groTSl DoiF on earth, 'tís tme.
But, niaed by her, the humble elave muy ri*a.

_ Here tbe mosiciui ceased to BÍn<;, and Donna Ckm again began to
sigh, both of vliom excited Dorothea's cnriosity, and alie pressed her
ta explain what she hod just before said. Clara embraoed her, and
puttioj? her face close to her ear, she whispered, lest she should be
overheard by Lncinda— " Th^ sini^er, my dear madam," said she,
" is the son of an Anaj^an gentleman wbo is lord of two towns,
and when at conrt lives opposite to mj iathtr. Althoogh my father
kept bis windows covered with canvas in the winter and lattices in
lammer, it happened by some chance that this yonog^ntlemsn saw
mo— «hetliM at choroh, or where it was, 1 know not, but in truth he
fell in love with me ; sad erpressed hia passion from the window of
the house by ho many signs and so many teus, that I was foroed to
believe him. and even to love him too. Among other sigus, he often
joined one band with the other, signifying his desire to marry me ■
atkd thoagh I should bare been Tery glad if it might have been so, jrei
being alone, and haTing no mother, I knew not who to speak to on
the sutgeiA ¡ and therefore let it rest, wif boat granting him any other
favoar than, when his father and mine were abroad^ to lift up the lat-
tice of my window just to show myself, at which he seemed so
delighted that you 'would hare thoagiit him mad. When the time of
myfatl ' ' ' ' ' ''■■■■' " -

for 1 n
eiok, a

conar...__ _.., _. ..„ , ^ ,.

But after we had travelled two days, on eotering a village about .
áñ/i journey henoe, I saw him tí the door of an inn, in the habit of
ft muleteer, so disguised that, had not his im^ been deeply imprinted -
in Tm heart, I could not have known him. I was surprised and over-
joved at the siabt of him, and he stole looks at me, nnobservcd by my
father, whom he eatefnlly avoids when he passes either on the road
or at the inns. When I lliink who he is, and how he travels on foot,
beansg so mnch fatigue for love of me, I am ready to die with pity,
and cannot help following him with my efes. I cannot imanne what
his intentions ar^ or how he coidd leave his father, who loves him
passionately, having no other heir, and also because he is so very
aeaerving. as yon «lU perceive when you sec him. I can assure yo¿
besides, that all be singa is of his own composing - for I have heard
that he is A great scbi^ and a poet. Every time I see him, or hear
him sing, I tremble all over with fright lest my father should recollect
hjm, ana discover oui incUnations, Althoagb I never spoke aword to
him in my life, yet Hove him so well that I cannever live without him.
TÍút, dear maoún, is dl I can tell you abont him whose voice has pleased
jon so much; by that alone yon may easily perceive that ho is no
muleteer, but master of hearts and towns, as I have already told yon.'

S32 sov QTTixon.

"Euongb, mj dear Clara," said Dorotliea, Usbíiii; her a thontaiid
times; "jou nrcd not say more; compose yourself till moraios, for
1 hope to be al)lc to man^ joai aSair so that the conclusion may be
a:i haiipy as tlie beginning is mnocent." " Ah, siaiiora !" said Dotma
Clara, what eoncTusioii can he e.ipccted, since nis father is of such
hh\i rank and fortune that I am not. wortliy to be bis servant, mneh
less his wife? Aa to marrjitig: without mv father's knowledge, I
would not do it for aU the voria. I only wish this youi^ man would
go back, and leave me : absence, perlraps, may lessen the pain 1 now
feel ; though I fear it will not have much elTect. What a strange
sorcery this love is ! I know not how it come to possess me, so
young as I am — in truth, I believe we are both of the same a^, and
I am uot yet lixteeo, nor ^all I be, as my fiither savs, until next
Slicliaclmaa." ]>orothea could not forbear smiling at Doima Clara'a
childish simplicity ; however, she entreated her again to sleep the
remainder ot the night, and to hope for everything in the momin','._

Profound silence now reigned over the whole hoo^e ; all being
aslcc¡> except the innkeeper's daughter and her maid Maritornes, who,
kno*ii^DonQuixote's weak points, determined to amuse themselves
bv playing him some trick whiie he was keeping guard without doors,
ITiere was no wimlow on that side of tde home which overlooked the
field, except a small opening to the straw-loft, where the straw was
tbroiru out. At this hole the pair of damsels planted themselves,
wlience they commanded a view of the knight on horseback, leaning
on his lauce, and could hear him ever and anon heaving sach deeji
and mournful sighs that they seemed torn from the very bottom of his
soul. They could also distinguish word^, uttered in a soft, sooth-
ing, amorous lone -, such as " O my Lady Dulcinea del Toboso ! per-
fection of all beauty, quintessence of diicretion, treasury of wit, and
pledge of modesty f what may now be thy sweet employment f Art
thoii, peradventure, tbiiJdng of thy captive knight, wlio voluntarily
exposes himself to so many perils for thy sake 1 O thou triformed
luminary, bring me swift tidings of her ! Perhaps thou art now gaKiog
at her, envióos of her beauty, aa she walks through some gallery of
her sumptuous palace, or leans over some balcony, considering now
she may without offence to her virtue or dignity assuage the torment
. vhich this poor afflicted heart of mine endures ft»- her ! or meditating
on «hat glory she shall bestow oa wf ■offerings, what solace to my
cares, or reoompense to aa long servraesl And thon, O sun '. who
must now be preparing to naaeu thy rteeds, to come forth and visit
my adorable lad;', salide her, I entreat thee, in my name : but beware
thou dost not kiss her face, for I shall bo more ]ealoas of thee than
thou wert of that swift ingrata who made thee sweAt and mn over
the phuaa of Thessaly, or along the hanks of Peneus—I do not
exactly remember over which it wis thon rann'st so jealous and so
enamoured."

llin) far Q

innkeeper's du-„ ^ , _,._„. ,— ,

little this way." Don Quixote tamed his head, and perceiving by the
light of the moon, woich then ahooe bright, that some penon
beckoned him towards the spike-hole, which to his fancy was a
window witltthided bars, suitable to the rii^ castle be oonreived the
inn to be, and his fbnner viiiona again recurring, he oondodedthat
the itii ¿uuBel of the castle, irresistibly eaanwured of him, had now

TBB xsieHT n 1. HoosE. 9S3

oome to r^>e>t ber tíiU. UnwillmK, therefore, to appear disconr-
teaaa or unerateful, be ^protched ttie nperture, aad replied, " I
lament, fair ladf, that jou should lave placed your ofFections irhere
it ¡a impossibb tot you to meet with tliat return whieli your p^
merit and beauty deserve ; yet ought you not to blame aii uii fortúnate
kui^ht irhom love has already enthralled. Pardon nie, dtar lady;
retire, and do not by any fartiier disclosure of your seiitiments make
me appear yet more nngrateful' but if I can repay vou by any other
way thaa a return of passion, I entreat that you will commnnd me,
«nil I awear, by tbat sweet absent enemy of mine, to frratify yon
immediately, though you should require a lock of Medusa's hair,
uliich was composed of snakes, or the sunbeams enclosed in a vial,"
" Sir," quoth Maritornes, " my kdy wants none of these." " What
tlien dotii your lady require, discreet duenna?" answered Don
Quixote. Only one of your beaotiful hands," quoth Maritornes,
whereby partly to satisfy that lon^? which brought ber to this
window, so much to the peril of her honour, that if her lord and
father should know of it he would whip oS at least one of ber ears."
"Let him dare to do it!" cried Don Quixote; "fatal should he his
punishment for presuming to lay violent hands on the dt-Iicate
membeiB of an enamoorcd dauphter." Maritornes, not donbting but
thftt he would grant the request, hastened down into the stable, and
brought back tke halter belonging to Sanobo's dapple, just as Don.
Quixote bad got upcm Kodnante's saddle to reaoh the gilded window ,
at whioh the enamoured damsel stood; and giving her his baud, ho
said: "Accept, madam, this hand, or rather thia sconrge of the
wicked : accept, I say, this hand, which that of woman never before
toociied, out even hen who has the entire right of my whole person.
I offer it not to be kissed, but that you may behold the contexture of
ila nerves, the firm knitting of its muscle», the largeness and spacious
no»! of its veins, wbeoce you may infer what must be the strength of
that arm which oelongs to such a hand." " We shall soon see that,"

Suotli Maritornes. Then, makinf^ a mnning-knot in the baiter, sue
led it on bis wriat, and tied the other end of it fast to the staple of
the hay-loft door. Don Quixote, feeling the harsh lope about his
wrist, said, " You seem r^her to ras^ than grasp my hand— pray do
iiot treat it so ntogjil]', since tbat it is not to blame for my adverse
inclination: nor is it jait to vent your displeasure thtis; indeed, this
kisd of revenge is very unworthy of a lover." But his eipostu I aliens
« unbeari ; for as soon as Maritornes bad tied the knot, the; both

went laughing away, having fastened it in such a manner tbat it w
imrnssible for him to get loose.
Thos he rcDoaüied standing upright on Soúnante, his hand close tc

the hole, fud tied by the wrist to the holt of the door; and ir. _,
utmost alarm lest Bozinante should move on either aide, and leave
him suspended. He durst not, therefore, make the least motion :
titough indeed he might well have expected, from the sobriety and
pati^ce of Rozinante, that he would remain in that position an
entire ceuttiry. In short, Don ^lixote, finding himself thos situated
and the ladies gone, oonoluded that it was an affair of enchantment,
like othen which hiad formerly happened to him in the same cestle.
He then cursed his own iudiseretion for having entered it a second
lime: súice hemight haveleamt from bis chivai^ that when a knight
was wtsuccessful in an advratore, it wai a sign that its accomplish-

,, .A.OOgIC

S34 lOH quiTOTB.

ment WB3 reserred for anoUicr, and that Kcond triak wera ^wayg
fruitlcsB, He made man; attemiitE to lelease hiiDKÍf. tluni^ he was
afraid of making any great esertioii lesa Koiinante should stir ; but
his efforts were all is vain, and he was compelled either to remain
standiog on the saddle or to (ear off hia hand. Now he wished for
¿madia's svord, against which no enchanttnent had power, and now
he euraed hia fortune. Sometimes he expatiated on the loss the world
wonld sustain during the period of his enchantment; other moments
«ere devoted to liia beloved Dulcinea dd Toboso ; and some to his
Rood scinirc Sancho Panza^ who, stretched on his ass's p«inel and
buried in sleep, was dreanimii of no auch misfortune ; nor did he fail
to invoke the aid of the sages Lii^ndeo and Alqnifc, and call upon
bis special friend Urganda. Thus tne moniing found him, like a bull,
roaring with despair ; for he eipected no relief with the dawn, fear-
ine hia enchantment was eternal; and he was the more induced to
believe it as Rozinante made not the least motion, and he verilf
thought himself and his borse must remain in the same posture,
without eating, drintins, or aleeping, until the evil influence of the
atars bad pas^ over, or some more powerful sage should disenchant

But he was mistaken ; for it was scarcely daylight, when four men
on horseback stopped at the inUj well wipointed and accoutred, with
carbinea hanging on their aaddle-bows. Not finding the inn -door open,
they called aloud and knocked very hard ; upon which Don Quiiote
called out from the place where he stood aentucl, in an arroi^ant and
loud voice, " Knighis, or spires, or whoever ye are, desist from
knocking ¿t the gate of this castle ; for at tliis early hour its inmates
are doubtless sleeping ; at least they are not accustomed to open the
gates of their fortrcas until the sun has spread hfs beams over the
whole horizon ; retire until brighter daviight shall inform us whether
it be proper t<i admit you or not." " What the devil of «fortreas or
oastle is this," quoth one of them, " that we are obliged to observe
all this ceremony P If you are the innkeeper, make somebody open
the door, for we are travellers, and only want to bait our horses, and
go on, as we are in haste." " What say ye, sirs — do I look like an
innkeeper? " aaid Don Qubtote, " I know not what you look like,"
answered the other ; " but I am sure yon talk preposterously to call
this inn a castle." " A castle it is, replied Don Quinóte, " and
one of the best in the whole province ; and at this moment contains
witbin its walls persons who have bad crowns on their heads and
sceptres in their hands." " You had better have wúd the reverse,"
qnoth the traveQer ; " the sceptre on the head, and the crown in tie
hand : but perhaps aome company of strolling players are here, who
frequently wear such thmga; this is not a place for any other sort of
crowned heads." " Your ifrnorance must be great, replied Don
Quixote, " it you know not that such events are very commoa in cbi-
valiT." The other horseman, impatient at Üie dialogue, repeated
hb Knocks with so much violence that he roused not only the host
but all the company in the bouse.

Jnat at that lime it happened that the horse of one of the travel-
lers was seized with an indiDatinn to smell at Kozinante, who, sad

THX EHieHT U BSLEASEO. 836

Iciniiaess. But scarcely hod he stirred a step, vhen Don Qitizote'a
feet slipped from the saddle, and be tEniainea siisiiended bj the arm,
in so inuch torture tbst he fancied liis wrist or liis arm was tearing
from his body ; Bbd he hung so near the ftround tlist he conM ¡ast
Teaoh it with the tips <A bis toes, whioh oulj' made his sitnation the
worse ; for fccliuK how nesr be was to the groand, he otrctehed and
BtTaiued with all his might to reach it; liie those who are torloced
iy the straopado, and who, being placed in the same dilemma,
««{grsTBte tlieir sufferings by their fruitless efforts to stretcn
thnmelTes.

CHAPTER XLTV.

A BQHtiiutatiiyit of thi atraordt'tiary adcextura &at Happentd ts
At in».

ExERTiNO his Innsf to the utmost, Don Qui^iote roared so londly
that tbe boat opened the imi-door, >it great alarm, to discover tiie
canse of the ontcry. Maritornes, being awakened dj the noise, and
pueasing the caJise, went to tlie straw-loft and privately untied the
baiter which held np Bon Quixote, wh<i immeuiatelf came to the
ground. Without answering a word to the many inauiries that were
made tfl him by the itmkceijer and travellers, he sli|>ped the rope
from off his wnst, and sprin^ng from the earth, mounted Rozimmte,
braced his target, cnucbed his lance, and taking a good compass about
Üie field, came up at a halt gallop, saying, " Whoever sh¿l dare to
affirm that I was fiurlj etichantcd, I say he lies; and provided my
sovereign lady, the princess Mioomicona, gives me leave, 1 challenge
him to single combat." The nev comers were amazed at Don
Quixote's words, till the innkeeper eiplaiued the wonder, by tellmg
them that be was disordered in Ms senses. They then iuiiúired of
tbe host whether there was not in the house a yonth about fifteen
years old, bahited like a muleteer — in short, descnbisg Donna Clara's
lover. The Lost said that there were so many people in tbe inn, that
he had not observed snch a person as they described. But one of
them just then seeing tbe judge's coach, said, " He most certainlv
be here, for there is the coach which he is said to have followed.
Let one of os remain here, and tbe rest go in search for t''"' ; and it
Tcmld not be amiss for one of ns to ride round the bonse, in case
be ihouid attempt to escape over the pales of the yard." All this
they immediately did. much to tbe innkeeper's surprise, who ooold not
^esB the meaning of so much activity.

It was DOW full daylight, and most of tbe company in the house
were rising ; among the first, were Donna Clara and Dorothea, who
had slept but indifferently ; the one from concern at bemi; so near her
bver. and the other from a desire of seeinx him, Don Qai:col«, find-
ing tint the four travellers regarded neither him nor his challenge,
was farions with rage ; and. could he have found a precedent among
the ordinances of chivalrr for engajrii^ in a new adventure artor he
had pledged his word to forbear untd the first had been accomplished.
, , . .A.OOgIC

SW imh qittxotb.

be mold now hare fiercilf attacked them all and compelled them fo
Teplf: but reflecting that he waa hound in lionour first t« reinstate
Ihe princesa on her throne, he endeiTimred to tranquUlize himself.
In the mean time the men pnrsued their search after the youth, and
and at last fonnd him peaeeablf sleeping hv (he side of a muleteer.
One of them pulling hun by the arm, said. Upon my word. Signer
Don Louis, your dresa ia very becomin,[; a irentieman like you, and
the bed you lie on is very suitahic to the l«iidemcss icitli which your
mother brought you up !" The youth was rousedfrom hia slce¡i, and
looking earnestly at the man who held him, he soon recollected him
to be one of his father's servants, and was so coniouuded that he
conid not say a word. " Sijmor Don Louis," continued the servant,
" you must instantly retnm home, unless you would cause the death,
of my lord your father, he is in such grief at your absence." " Why,
how did my fother know," said Don Louis. " that I came thb roao,
and in this dress?" "He was informed by a student, to whom

Su mentioned your project, and who was induced to disclose it
•m compassion at your father's distress. There are four of us
here at your serviw. and we shall be rejoiced to restore you to your
family." " That will be as I shall please, or as Heaven may orilain,"
answered Don Louis. " What, si^or, should you please to ¿o,
but return home?" KJolned the servant: "indeed, yon cannot da
otherwise."

The muleleer who had been Don Louis's companion hearing this
contest^ went to acquaint Don Fernando and the rest of Itie cooipnay
with whet was passing: telling them that the man bad called the
younff Wl, Don, and wanted him to rctom to his father's house, but
that he refused to go. They all recoUcetrd his fine voice, and bein^
eazer to know who he was, and to assist him if any violence were
ofl'ered to him, they repaired to the place where he was contendinsf
with his servant. Dorothea now came out of her chamber, with
Sonna Clara: and, calling Cardenio aside, she related to turn in a few
words the liistory of the musician Hod Donna Clara. He then told
her of tlie search that had been made after the young man bv the
aervants. and altboug;h he whispered, he was overheard by Donna
Clara, who vaa thrown into such an asnny by the intelligence, that
she would have fallen to the ground if Dorothea had not supported
her. Caidenio advised her to retire with Donna Clara, while he
endeavoured to make some arrangements in their behalf. Don Louis
was now surrounded by all the four servants, entreating that he would
immediately return to comfort his father, lie answered that he could
not possibly do so until hehad accomphshed that ou which his life, his
boaoar, and his soul depended. The servants still urged him, sayinz
that they would ccrtainlynotso back without him. and that they must
compel him t« return if be refused. " That you sliali not do," replied
Don Louis ; " as least you shall not take me living." This contest
had now drawn together most of the people in the house, Don Fer-
nando, Cardenio, the judge, the priest, the barber ; and even Don
Quixote had quitted bis post of castle-tmard. Cardenio, alreadv
Iniowing the young man's story, asked the men why they vrovli
take away the youth agunst his will F " To save his father's life,"
te^ed one of them ; which is in danger from distress of mbd."
" There ia no occasion to give an account of my affairs here," siud
DooLouia; "I am free, ¿d will go back if I please; otherwiae,

A.OOgIC

IS TKOUBLI. 937

none of yira shall force me." " Bnt reuon wil! pre rail witli jou,"
answered the servant ; " and if not, we must do our duly." " Hold ! "
said tbe jud^e ; " let ua Jtnov tl)e nhole of tliii a£iir " Tin man
(wlio retMllccted liini) answered, " Doe* not your worship know this
eentleniBD f He is your neijckbDur'a son, aiid has absented liimself
from his father's house, in a earb very unbecominB his quality, as your
worship may see.'' The juase, after looking at bim witli Hilrntion,
recognised him, and accosted him in a friendly manner : " Vihat
childish frolic is this, Signor DonLonis," said be, "or what powerful
motive has ¡odiiced yon to disguise yourself in a manner so unbecom-
ing your rnnki"' The eyes of the youth were filled witli tears, and
he could Dot say a word. The judxe desired the servants to be quiet,
promisiug that all sbouJd be well; and, taking Don Louis by the
hand, he led bim aside and questioned him.

In the mean time a great uproar vras heard at the inn^door,
vllich was occasioned by tvro gnesta wbo had lod;^ there (hat ni^t,
and who. seeinz evcrj'body engaged, bad attempted to ^ off without

Kying ibeir recKoninjc : but the host, beinc more attentive to his own
siness than to that of other people, laid hold of them as they were
Koing out of the door, and demanded his money : giving them such
hard words for their evil iutcntion, tiiat they were provoked to return
him an answer with their fists, and so much to the purpose that the
poor innkeeper was forced to cali for help. The uostess and hei
daughter seeing none more proper to give him succour than Don
Qoi^iotc, applied to hJm ; " Sir Kokht," súd the daughter, " I
beseech you, by the valour which Goa baa nven you, to come and
hein my poor father, whom a couple of wicked fellows are beating
without mercy." Don Quiiote, very leisurely and with much phlegm,
replied, " i'air maiden, your petition cannot be granted at present,
because I am incaoncitnted from eneaging in aivy other adVenture
until Ihavc accomplished one for which my word is already plighted;
all that I can do in vour service is to advise yon to go and desire your
father to maintain the fidit as well as he con, and by no means allow
himself to be vanquished ; in the mean time 1 will request permissioii
of the princess Micomicona to relieve him in his distress, which, if
she grants me, rest assured I will forthwith deliver hijn." '' As I am
a sinner," quoth Maritornes, who was present, " before your worsliip
can do all that, my master may be gone into the otlier world.
" Suffer me, madam, to obtain that permisaton," answered Don
Qniiote ; " and if I procure it, it matters not though he be in the
other world ; for thence would 1 liberate him, in spite of the other
world itself: or at least I will take such ample revenge on those who
sent him thither, that you shall be entirely satisfied. Then, without
saving another word, he approached Dorothea, and thratrin^r himself
on his knees before her, in chivalrous terms he entreated that her
grandeur would vouchsafe to give him leave to anccour the governor
of the caatle, who was in pricvous distress. The princess very gra-
ciously consented ; when, bracing on his target and drawing liia
sword, be proceeded to the inn-door, where the two guests were still
maltreating the poor host; but before he came there, he suddenly
stopped short and stood irresolute, though Muritomes and the host«M
■aked him why he debyed helping their master, " 1 delay," said
Don Quixote, "because it is not lawful for me to draw my sword
against plebeians ; but call hither my sqoire, Sancho Paoia, for t»

238 DON QimoTB.

him doth thb matter more properly belong." In the mean t^e
the conúict at the door of the inn ronlinued mtbout intermission,
Ter; much to the disadvant^ of tbe innkeeper, end the n^ of
Maritornes, the hostess, and her daughter, irho were ready to ran
distracted to see the cowardice of Don Quixote, and the injary dona
to their lord and omster.

But here we must leave him ; for aomcbody will no doubt come te
his relief ; if not, let him suffer for being so fool-hardv as to eng»*? i*
such an unequal contest : and let us remove some tlty paces aS, to
bear what Don Louis replied to the judge, whom we left questíouiug
him aa to the cause of his traTclling on foot so meanly apparelled.
The youth clasping his hands, as if some great affliction wrung his
heart, and sheading tears in abundance, sajd in answer : " I etm only
Bay, dear sir, that from tho moment heaven was pleased by means of
our vicinity to give me a sight of Donna Clanij your daughter, she
becanie sovereign mistress of my aifectious ; and if you. my true lord aiMl

— .- . „ it (TO- , . ,

passion than what she mij" have perceived by ocessionally seeiap, at
a distance, my eyes full ot tenderness and teiu^. Yon know, my lord,
the weallo and rank of my family, of whom I am the sole heir ; if
these circumstances can plead in my favour, receive me immediately
for yonr son ; for Ihouifh my father, iufloenced by other views of faia
own, should not approve my choice, time may reconcile him to it."
Here the enamoured youth was silent, and the judge remained insQS-
pense: no less snrprised by the ingenious confession of Don Loui»
than perpleied how to act in the affair ; in reply, therefore, he only
desired him to be calm for the present, and not let his servants return
that day, that there might be time to consider what was most expe-
dient to be done. Don Louis kissed bis hands with vehemence,
bathing them with tears, that miiht have softeccd a heart of marblei,
much more that of tbe jadge, who, beine a man. of sense, was aware
how advant^eons this match wonid be for his danghter. Neverthe-
less, be would rather, if possible, that it should take place with the
consent of Don Louia'i father, who he knew bad pretensions to a title
for his son.

By this time the innkeeper bbA his giiesls bad made peace, more
through the persuasions and ar;!:nment3 of Don Quixote than his
threats; and the reckoning was |«id, Asdnow tbedevil, who never
sleeps, BO ordered it that at this time the very barber entered the inn
who hod been deprived of Munbnno's helmet by Don Quixote^ and
of the trappings of his au by Sancho Pama ; and as he was leading
his beast to the atable he espied Sancho Panxa, who at that moment
was repLuring something about the self-same pannel. He instantly
fell upon him with fury ; "Ah, thief!" swd he, "have I got you t¿
last ! — give me my basin and my panneL with all the furniture yon
stole from me!" Sancho fiodioghiniself thus snddenty attacked and
abnsed, secured the pannel with one hand, and with the other made
the barber such a return that his mouth was bathed in blood. Never-
theless, the barber would not let go his hold ^ but caised bis voice so
high Ihat he drew everybody aroand him. while be called out, "Jus-
tice, in ihe king's name I Thisrogue and highway-robber here would
murder me for endeavoaiing to recover my own goods." " You lie !"

A.OOgIC

BAHCHO B&TILES TITH THE BABBEB. 339

answered Sanclio, "I am no h^hva^-robber ^ mj muter, Don
Quixote, voa these sp<»ls in fail war." Don Quixote vaa now pre-
sent ana not a little pleased to see how well his squire acted both on
the offensive and d^ensire ; and TegardinK him thenceforward as a
nan r£ mettle, he reaolved in his mind to dub him a knight the Qrst
opportunity that offered, thinking the order of chiyalry would bo well
bestowed upon him.

Duriutf this contest the barber made many protestations. " Gentle-
men," said he, " thÍ3 pannel is as certainly mine as the death I owe to
God : 1 know it &3 well as if it w?re made hj myself; and yonder
stanos my ass in the stable, who will not suffer me to he— praj do
but try it, and if it does not fit him to a hair, let mo be infamous :
and moreover, the very day they took tiiis from me, they robbed me
like«\ise of a new brass basin, never hanselled, that cost me a crown."
Hera Don Quixote could not forbear intcrnosmg ; and separating the
two combatants, he made them kv down the pound on the ground to
public view^ until the truth should be decided. " The error of thia
bcmest squire," eaid he, "is manifest, in calling that a basin which
was, is, and ever shall be, jtambrino's helmet— that helmet which I
won in fair war, and am therefore its right and lawful possessor.
M'ith regard to the pannel, I decline any interference ; all I can say
is, that my squire, Sancho, asked my permission to take the trappin;;;»
belongÍDS to the horse of this conquered coward, to adorn his own
withal. 1 gave him leave— he took them, and if from horse-trappings
they are metamorphosed into an ass's pannel, I haye no other reasons
to give than that these transformations are frequent in affidrs of
chivalry. InconSnnalionof what I say, go, Sancho, and bring hither
the helmet which this honest man terms a basin," " In faith, sir,"
quoth Sancho, " if we have no better proof than that your worship
speaks of, Mambrjno's helmet will prove as errant a basin as the
hcaiest man's trappings we a pack-saddle." " Do what I commaniL"
rephed Don Quixote ; "for surely all things in this castle cannot be
p)verued by eucliantment." Sancho went for the baam, and return-
ing wilJi it, he gave it to Don Quixote. " Only behold, aentlemen 1"
said he, " how can this squire h ' * e to declare that this is a
Irasin, and not the helmet whic scribed to you F By the

order of knii;hthaod which I pn ar that this very helmet ia

the same which I took from h addition or dijninution."

"There is no doubt of that." < lo, "for from the time my

master won it, until now, ho has one battle in it, which was

when he freed those unlucky gi ; and had it not been for

that same basin-helmet he won j got off so well from the

^wecs of atones which rained upon him in uiat skirmish.

iiaub, Google

CHAPTER XLY.

DouQ _, . .,,_

him, if he be a kni.!;lit, tliat )ie Ues ; and if s »quire, that he lies and
lies again, a thousand times." Our barber. Master Nicholn^ who vas
present, wiahiuE to carry an the jest for the amiuemenD of the com-
pany, addressed himself to the otuer barber, and aaid ; — " Sí^or bar-
ter, or whoever you are, know that I also am of your profession, and
have had my certifícale of examination above these twenty years, ard
am well ociiuainteil with all the instruments of barber-siu^rr, with-
out exception. I have likewise been ■ Boldier in my youth, and there-
fore know wliat a helmet is, and what a morion or cap of steel is^ as
well 03 a caa(¡ue with its beaver, and other matters relntinf; tosoldicrr
— r mean to the arms commonly used hv aoldiera. And I aay, with
submission always to better iudfriiienta, that the piece before us, which
tliat frenlleman holds in bis hani;^ not onlv is not a barber's basin, but
~ u far from being- so as white ¡a from black, and truth from faUe-

Sriest, who perceived his friend the barber's desíen ; and Cardenio,
Ion Femando, and his compnnions, all confirmed the same ; even tiie
judge, Inidnot his thougbtn been engjotsed by the affair of Don. Louis,

wiiiild have taken some share in tlic jest - but in the perplexed stiua
of his mind be could attend but little to these pleasantries.

" Mercy on me ! " quoth the astonished barber, " how is it possible
that so many bonourable^entlemen should maintain that this is not
a basin, but a helmet ! Ttiis would be enongh to astonish a «h<^
university, be it ever so wise. Well, if the basin be a helmet, then
the pannci must needs be a horse's furniture, as the «rentleman has

iwd," " To me, indeed, it seems to be a panne

■' but I have already told vou 1 will not bter
" Whetlier it be the paunel of an ass, or the i
said tlic priest, "must be left to tliedeciaionof
for in matters of chivalry, all these Kcntlemea
his judgment," " By ail that is holy [ gentlemi
" such extraordiiiary thin^ have befallen me in
not vouch for the certainty of anytliing that
verily believe tliat all is couductea by the po
During my first visit, J was tornnentca by an e
Sancho fared no hctler among some of his folio
have been suspenntd for iip:triy two hours by n
ing either the means or thecauscof my persecu
in me, therefore, to give my opiidon in an affair

,:,: .,.,1, Google

SISPCTB ABOUT THS FAITNEL. S41

As to tbfl qiieation whether this beabsainorahelmet, Ihave already
answered ; but with regard to tlic pannel, gentlemen, not daring my-
self to pronoimee a dennitiTe sentence, I refer it to jour wisdom to
decide, Perliaps, as jou are not Imights-errant, the enchantments erf
this place majr not have the same ^wer over yon ¡ and, your under-
etandings remaining free, yon may judge of things as they r^alli are,
and not as they appear to me," There is no doubt," answered Don
Fernando, " but that Signor Bon Quixote is right in leaving tho
decision of Ibis case to us ; and that ire ma; proceed in it apon solid
guilds, I will take the votes of these gentlemen in secret, and then
give you a clear and fall acconnt of the result."

To those acquainted with Don Quixote, all this was choice enter-
tainment ; white to others it seemed the height of folly, among whom
were Don Ijonis, his serrants, and three other giiests, troopers of the
fcoly brolhwhooa, who just then arrived at the inn. As for the bar-
ber, he was quite raving to see his basin converted into Mambrino's
helmet before his e^es, and be made no doubt but his pannel would
Undergo a like transformation. It was diverting to see Don Fernando
walking round and taking the opinion of each person at his ear,
whether that pwdoua object of contention was a paimel or caparison ;
and after ho had taken the votes of all those who knew Don Quixote,
he said aloud to the barber, " In truth, honest friend, 1 am weary of
eoUeoting vot«s ; for I propose the qiiÑtion ti) nobody who does not
my in reply, that it is quite ndicoloos to assert that this is an ass's
panne], arid not die c^arison of a horse, and even of a well-bred
none ; and as yoa have grven us no proofs to the contrary, you must
have patience imd submit for in spite of both vou and your ass, this is
DD panneL" " Let me never ei^ioy a place in neaven ! exclaimed the
bwber, "if your worships are not all mistaken; and so may my soul
qipear in heaven as this appears to me a pannel, and not a compari-
son: but so go the laws:— 1 say no more; and verily I am not
drunk, for I am as yet fasting from everything; but sin."

The barber's simplicity oaoaed no less merriment than thevaitaries
of the knight, wbo now said, "As sentence ¡s passed, let each take his
own^ andhim towhomGodgivetb, may St, Peter bless," One of Don
IjOuib's four servants now iiitorposed. How is it possible," said he,
"that men of common understanding sfaoutd say that this is not a bssiu
nor that a pannel ? £ut since you do actually affirm it, I suspect that
there must be some mystery in obstinately maintaining a thing so con-
t»ry to the plain truth : for by— (and out herappcd a round oath) all
the votes in tbe world shall never persuade me that this is not a bar-
ber's basin and that a jackass's pannel." "May it not be that of a
she Bsa?" quoth the priest. That is all one," said the servant;
" the question is only whether it be or be not a pannel." One of the
ofioera of the holy brotherhood, who bad overheard the dispute, cried
out, full of indignation, " It is as surely a pannel as my father is my
fawer i and whoever says, or shall say, to the contrary, must be
drmA, " You lie, like a pitiful scoundrel ! " answered Don Qnixotó ;
and iiitina up bis lance, wbich was still in his hand, he aimed suoh a
Uow at the trooper, that bad he not slipped aside he would have been
tevdled to the ground. The lance came down with such fury that it
was shivered to pieces. "Help! help the holy brotherhood!" cried
oat the other officers. The innkeeper, being himself one of that body,
ran instantly for his wand and sword, to support 'his comrades. Don
» „,,.A.OOglC

SIS non qtnxoTE.

' Louis'sseirantssnrroaDdcdthrir master, lest he should escape daríns
tlie confusion, 'ibe barber iiorreivin" the house tnnied lopay-tnrvy,
laid iiold (iftuiii of his paniiel, and Sanclio did the same. Don Quiíoie
drew his sword, and fell upon tlie troopers ; and Don Lonis called nut
to his seiTunts to leave bim, that they mifflit nssist Don Quinóte, Cnr-
dcnio, and Don Fernando, wlio both took part with the Imiaiit. Tlio
priest uried out, Uie hostess shrieked, her dauiiUter wept, Maritornes
roared, Dorothea was alanned, Lucinda stool amazed, and Donna
Clara fainted away. The barber cnOed Sancho, and Saneho pum-
melled the barber. Don Louis gaveoneof hi» servants, who hacEpm-
snmcd to hold him by the arm lest be should escape, such a blow with
his fist that his moutii vraa bathed in btood ; wbicli caused the judge
to interpose in bis defence. Don Temando got one of the tniopere
down, and Uid on his blows most unmercifully i while the ¡oiüiceper
bawled aloud for help to tbe holy bKllkerhood; thus was the whole
inn filled wilb cries, wailiogs, and shrieks, dismav, confusion, and ter-
ror, kicks, cudgcUin;», and elTusion of blood, la the mid^ of tbis
chaos and Larly-burty Doa Quixote suddenly coacciTcd that be waa
involved over head and cars m the discord of kine Agramaute's camp,
and he called out in a voice which made the wbole inn shake, " Mot^
all of joii ! Put up your swords ; be paeiñed, and hsten all to me, if
je would live ! " His vehemence made them desist, and he went on
saying : " Did I not (ell you, sirs, that this castle was enchanted, and
that some le^oa of devils must inhabit it? Behold (he couArmatioa
of what I said ! Mark with your own eye» how tbe discord of Agra-
mantc's camp is transferred hither amooitst us !— there they fight for
the sword, here for (be horse, yonder for the ea^cle, here atñin for tbe
helmet : we all fi:;ht, and no one understands another. Let, then, nqr
lord judfre and hia reverence the priest come forward, the one as king
AEcramante, the otlier as king Sobrino, and restore us to peace ; for by
tbe powers divine it were most disgraceful and iniquitous that so
many grntlemen of our rank should slay each other for such trivial
matters." I'he troopers not uuderstandmg Don Quixote's lan^age,
and finding themselves still roug-hly handled by Dun Fernando, Cár-
denlo, and their companions, would not be pacified; but the barber
submitted : lor both his beard and his pannel were demolished in the
scuflle ; and &incho, hke a dutiful servant, obeyed the least word of
his master. Don Louis's four servants were also quiet, seeing how
unprofilable it was to iuterfere. The innkeeper, still refractory,
insisted that (he insotcuceof that madman ought to be chastised, who
was continually tuminL; his house upside down. At length the tumnit
subsided ; Ihc panne! was to remain a caparison, and the basin a M-
met, and the inn a caslle, at least in Don Quixote's imaginaliok,
until tbe day of jndgnient.

Amity and peace being now restored by the interposition of tba
judge aud the priest, the servants of Don Louts renewed tlieir aoS-
citations for Ins return. I'he judge having in the meantime informed
Don Fernando, Cárdenlo, and tbe priest, of what had passed between
himself and the young man, he consuUca with them on the afTair, and
it was finally agreed that Don Fernando shnnld make himself known
to Don Louis's servants, and inform them that it was his desire that
the young gentleman should accompany him to Andalusia, where he
would be treated by the marquis hi» brother in a manner suitable to
his quality i for lii» determination was at all events not to retara jost

,, ..A.OOgIC

issT inz KNiGur. 213

ftt that ticrkc ¡atn his fatlier's presence. Tlie servants bein; appri.'ied
of ifoo l'erBandú's rank, and iindinK Bon Louis resolute, u'jrced
ainoD<; Iticmselves tliat (luree of tliem should return to give his fntlicr
account of what bad passed, and that tlic otiier should stay to atteud
Don liouis, and not leave liini untU he knew his lord's pirasitre.
Tlius was tills complicated tumult appeased by the authority of Agra-
mante and the prudence of Sobrino.

But tlie enemy of peace and concord finding: lumsejf foiled and
disappointed in the scnnty produce of so promising a field, resolved to
try bis fortune once more, by eontñving neiv fmys and disturbances.
The uliiccrs of t}ie holy brotherhood, on hearing the qnality of tlieii
opponents, retreated from tlie fray, thinkinj tliat «halever migbt be
the issue they were likely to be losers. But one o£ tliis body, who
had been severely handled by Don Femando, happened to rei^oUeot
tliBt among other wanant« in bis possession he hud one against Don
Quixote, whom his superiors had ordi:red to be token intn custody

aoee. "As God shall "save mc!" exclaimed Sancbo, "what m^
toaster says is true about tiic enchantments of this castle ; far it ¡a
únpossible to live an hour quietly in it." Don Fernando at bng:th
parted the olReer and Don Quiíoté ; and, to the aatisfactioa of both,
Viloeked their hands from the doublet- collar of the one and from
the wind'pipe of the other. Nevertheless, tlie troopers persisted in
cLuminit tlieir prisoner ; declaring that the king's service and tliat of
the holy brothethood required it-, and in whose name tbey aanin
demanded help and a.s3Ístánce in apprehending that common robber
ud higtivay thief. Con Quixote smiled at these expressioDS, and
with great caltaness said, " Cume bithcr, base and ill-bom crev : call
HI. ii «ililiiini nn the liignway to loosen the chaias of tlie captive, to
' ' - -; the fallen, and
I undeserving

*' ' , , . A.OOglc

3U PON QUIXOTE.

by tlie meanness and baseness of your nnderslandings, thflt heareo
should reveal to you tlie wortli inherent in knight-errantrj-, or xüsíb
you sensible of yonr own sin and ignorance in not reverini the sha-
dow much more the presence of anjf knight-errant! Teil me, ye
rogues in a troop ! not troopers, but higtwaj marauders under licence
of the holy hrollierliood— tell me, who was the blockhead that signed
the warrant for apprehending auch a knight as 1 am ? Ti'lio was he
who knew not that K nights-errant are eierapt from all judicial autho-
rily ; that their sword is their law, valour their privilege, and their
own will their edicts ? Who was the madman- I say agwn, who
knew not that there is no patent of gentility whicn contains so many
privileges and exemptions as are required by the knight-errant on
we day he devotes himself to the rigorous eiterciseof chivalry ? 'HTiat
knight-errant cvit caid custom, polU-tai, subsidy, quit-rent, porterage,
or ferry-boat P What tailor ever brought in a bill for making his
clothes P What governor that lodsed liim in hia castle ever made
him pay for his entertainment ? Wliat king did not seat him at hia
table ? What damsci was not enamoured of him, and did not jiield
herself up entirely to his will and pleasure? Finally, what knight-
errant ever did, or shall exist, who lias not courage, with his single
arm, to bestow a hundred bastinadoes on any four hundred troopers
of the holy brotherhood who shall dare to oppose him ?"

CHAPTER XLVI.

T* Khiei itfiniihtd lie notaUt advintwe (¡f Iht ¡uÁy brolherhood: itiUt
an acanint of Üit feroeuy of ov,r good knight Don Qaizott.

Thus eloquently did Don Quiiotp harangue the officeiB, -while at
the same time the priest endeavoured to persuade them that since the
knight, aa they might easily perceive, was deranged in his mind, it
was useless for them to proceed farther in t!ie affair ; for if thej- were
to apprehend him, he would soon be released as insane. But the
trooper only said in answer that it was not his bosiness to jodge of
the state of Bon Quixote's intellects, but to ob^ the order of hia
iuperior; and that when he had once secored him, they might set
him free as often as they pleased, " Indeed," said the priest, " you
must forbear this once ; nor do I think that he will suffer himself to
be taken." In fact, the priest said so mnch, and Don Quixote acted
BO extraragantly, ttint the oiBcera would have been mora crazy than
himself had they not desisted after sncb evidence oí his inflrmily,
Hiey judged it best, (bcrefore, to be quiet, and endeavour to make
peace between the barber and Sancho Panía, who still continued
Iheir BRuffle with great rancour. As officers of justice, therefore, they
compounded the matter, and prononnced such a decision that, if bolt
partips were- not perfectly oon tented, at least tbey were in some degree
•atisfied; it being settled that they should exchange panneb, but
neither girths nor haltera. As for Mambrino's heiiiiet, the piiest,
unknown to Don Quixote, paid the barber eight reals, for which lie
received a discharge iu full, acquitting him of all fraud thenceforth
and for evermore.

A.OOgIC

THE XNIOHT ACDKESGES THE PEINCESS. 215

Thns were these important conlists decided : and fortune seemed
to smile on all Ihc heroes aud lieroines of tbe inn ; even the face of
Donna Clara betrayed the joj" of her heart, as the servants of Don
Lonis had acquieseed ia his wishes. Zoraida, allliough she eould not
understand everythiD^, looked sad or eay in conformity to the
expressions she observed in their several countenances, especially
thut of her Spaniard, on whom not only her eves but her soul rested.
The innkeeper, obserring the recompense tiie priest had made the
hsrber, claimea also the pajment of his demands upon Don Quixote,
'iilh ample satisfaction for the dara^ done to his skins, and the loss
of his wme ; and swure that neither Jtozinante nor the ass should stir
cut of the inn until he had been paid the uttermost fartlimg. The priest,
however, endeavoured to soothe him ; and, what was mort Dob
Fernando settled the knight's account, although the judire would fain
have taken tlic debt upon himself. Fence was, therefore, entirely
restored ; and the inn no longer displayed the confusion of Agra-
inante's camp, as Don Quiiote had called it ; but rather the tiaii-

Suitlity of the days of Uctavius Ciesar, Tlianks to the mediation and
Iwiuence of the priest, and the liberality of Don Fenuindo.
Don Quiiote now finding himself diseogaged, thought it was time
to pursue his jonmey, and accomplish the grand enterprise for which
he had been elected. Accordinjn)', he approached the princess, and
threw himüclf upon his knees before her; but she would not listen to
him in that posture ; aud, tliereliwe, in obedience to her he arose,
and thus addressed her: "It is a common adage, fair lady, that
'diliKCnrif b the mother of success;' and CTpenence coustantly
verifies us truth. The active solicitor brings the doubtful suit to a
happy issue ; but this truth is never more obvious t han in military opera-
tions, where expedition and despatch anticipate the designs of the
secured before he is prepared for defence. I
^he3e remarks, most eialted lady, because our
:cms no longer necessary, and may, indeed, be
nows but your enemy the gtant may, by secret
of my approach, and thus gain time to fortily
gnable fortress, against which my vigilance and
fatieable arm may be ineffeetu^. Therefore,
,is designs may be prevented by our dilijience,
u the name of tbat good-fortune which will be
>me face to face with j-onr enemy." Here Don
d with dignified composure awuted the answer
A, who, with an air of majesty, and in a style
it of her knight, thus replied : "I am obliged
the leal you testify in my cause, so woithv of
Gee and employment it is to succour the orpuan
Heaven grant that our desires may be soon
lU may see that all women are not ungrateful,
it it be instantly i for I have no otiier will but
e entirely at your pleasure: for she who baa
« of her person and tha restoration of her
ands muat not oppose what your wisdom shall
!" exclaimed Don Quixote, "I will not lose
Iting a lady who thus humbleth herself. I will
iKiat of her ancestors. . Let us depart imme-
ir of m; teal makes me impatient : nor bath
A.OOgIC

2áO DOIT QUIXOTE.

Heavp.n created nor earth seen 3u¡¡bt of danger tbat can daunt or
affright me. Sauclio, let Ko^iuantc be saddled ; get ready tbiue owu
beast, and also her majesty's palfrey; kt us take our leave uf Die
^veruor of the castle and tbese uoblcs, Ibat we maj set foitli
instantly."

Sancho, who had been present all the time, shook his bead, saying,
"Ab, master of mine ! there are more tricks in the towa than aro
dreamt of; with all respect bo it s^ken." "What tricks can ihero
be to ray pr^udice in atiy town or city in (he world, thottbunijikiu?*
ftaid Don Quiiote. "If vour worship puts yourself iufo a passion,"
answered bancbo, "I nil! hold m; tongue, and not say what I atd
bouod to say as a faithful s<iuire and a dutituj servant." " Say what
thou wilt," replied Dou Quixote ; " but tliiult not to intimidate ine :
for it is Iby nature to be taiut hearted— mine to be proof axainst all
fear." "As I am a sinner to Heaven," answered Sancho, 1 mean
notbinz of all this ; I mean only that I am sure and positively certain
this lady who colls hei-self queen of the great kintcdom of Micomicon
is no more a queen than my mother ; for if she were so she would not
be uuizliug at every turn and ¡u every comer with a certain person in
the company." Porotbea'a colour rose at Sancho'a remark: for it
was indeed true that her spouse, Don Fernando, now and then bv
stealth had snatched with his lips an enmest of that reward whicn
liis affections deserved ; and Sancho, having observed it, thought this
freedom very uubecomii^ the queen of so vast a kinf:doiu. As
Dorothea could not contradict Sancho, she remained silent, and
Buflered him to continue his remaika. " I say this, sir, because sup-
posing after we have travelled thiongh thick and thin, and paired
many Dad uights and worse days, one viho is now enjoying him^^elf in
this inn should chance to reap tlie fruit of our labours, there would
be no use in my hasteniug to saddle itozinante, or get ready the ass
and the palfrey ; therefore we had better be quiet. Let every drab
mind ber snimunp, and let us to dbner." Good heaven ! how preat
was the indignation of Dqh Quixote on hearing his squire speak in
terms so disrespectful ! It was so grciit that, with a faltering voice
and stammering tongue, while living lire darted from bis eyes, he
cried, " Sconndrol ! umnanueil)', icnorant, iil-spoken, fonl-moulhed,
in^pudeut. mormuring and bact-biting villain! How darest thoa
ntter such words in my presence, and in the presence of these illus*
ttious ladica I How darcst thou to entei-tain audi rude and insolent
tlioughts in tliy confused imagination ! Avoid my presence, monster
of nature, treasurvof lies, magazine of deccilp, slorehouse of logucrics,
inventor of misehiffs, puhlibhcr of absurdities, and foe to all the
honour due to royalty ! lie^ne !— appear not oefore me on pain of
my serorcst indiipialion!" And as he spoke he arched his cyelirows,
swelled bis cheeks, stared around Imn, and gave a violent stamp with
jiisr^ht foot on the ground; plainly indicating the fury that ra^red
in his breast. Poor Sancho was so terrified by the storm of pa^siou,
that he would have hern glad if the eartli bad opened that instant ana
swallowed him np. He knew not what to say or do ; so he turned
his back and hastened ont of the presence of bis furious master.

Jiut the discreet Dorothea, perfectly understanding Duo Quisofe,
in otiier to pacify his wrath, said, " lie not offeiided, sir knight of the
■" ' " ...-.- - . jqy¡p,_ fop

T can it bo
A.OOgIC

THE CDILLTES STIUTAOZU. Si7

suspected, comiderini^ his flood sense and Christian conscience, tliat
he would bear false witncssa^iust anybody; it is possible tliat since,
OS you affirm yourself, sir knight, the powers of enchnntnient preToJI
in this castle, S:incho may, by the same diabolical illusion, hare seen
what be hus atUrmed so much to the prejudice of my honour." " By
the Omnipotent, I swear," quoth Don Qniiote, "your hislincss baa
bit the mark I— some evil apparition must have appeared to this
sinner, and represented to him what it was impossible for him to see
tay other vay ; fur I am perfectly assured of the simplicity and inno-
eenee of the unhappy iTretcb, and that be is incapnhle of slandering
My person iiviug. " So it is, and so it shall be," said Don Fernando :
"tliererore, Sianor Don Quixote, jou ought to pardon bim and restore
hxmki jout i&ymiT. ticui eral i.i prineipio before these illusions turned
his brain." Don Quixote havui; promised his forgiveness, the priest
vent for Sandio, who came in with mnch humility, and on his kneca
begged hia master's hand, whioh was given to him : and after he had
allowed him to kiss it, he gave him his blessing, adding, " Thou wilt
DOW, Son Sancho, be tnorouglily convinced of what 1 have often toid
thee, that all things in this castle are conducted bv enchantment."
"I Delieve so too,"nuolh Sancho, "escept the business of the
blanket, which renll^ fell out in the ordinary way." "Believe not so,"
answered Don Quixote ; " for in that case I would have revenged
thee at the time, oud even now : but neitlier could 1 then, nnr can I
now, find on whom to resent the injury." To gratify the curiosity
which this remark had excited, the inkeeper cave a very eircum-
Btantial account ot Saucbo i'anza's excursion in Ine air, which, though
it entertained (lie rest, would have distressed the feeling of the sijuire,
if his master had not given bim fresh assurances tliat it was all a
matter of cncbanlmiint. However, Saiicho's faith was never so atroi^
but tliat he shrewdir susiiecled it to be a downright fact, and no
illusion ot all, that he hiid been tossed in a blanket by persons ot
flcfh and bl<K>J, and by no visionary plinnloms.

This illustrious company had now passed two whole days in the
inn; and thinkins it time to depart, they considered how the priest
and barber might convey the kuight to his home witlumt trouoling
Dorothea and Don Fernando to accompany them ; and for that pur-
pose, having first enzagcil a wageouer who lumpcncd to pass by with
hia team of oxen, iiiey proceeded in the following manner. They
formf d a kind oí cage, with poles grate-wise, targe enough to contain
Don Quixote at his ease; tlion by the direction of the priest, Don
Fernando and his com jwrniom, with Don Louis's servants, iheolfiecrs
of the holy brotherhood, imd the iniikeeper, covered their faees, and
disguised themselves so aa not to be recognised by Don Quixote,
This done, tiiey aikntl;^ entered the room where the knight lay fast
asleep, reposing after his late exertions, and secured him with cords ;
BO that when be awoke, he sturcd about in amaiement at the strange
Tisaees that surrounded him, but found himself totally unahlo to move.
His disordered imagination operating as nsnal, immediately siisgcstea
lo him that these were gobbiis of the enchanted castle, and tliat ho
wail entangled in its charms, since he felt himself nnable to stir in hia
own defence,» surmisewhich the curate, who projected the stratagem,
had anticipated. Sancho alone was in his own proper figure: and
though he wanted but liitle of being infected with his master's
inflrmity, yet he was not ignorant who all these counterfeit goblins

SIS DON «mxon.

were ; bnt Le thonglit it best to be quiet until he saw what wm tb-
tended hy tliis seizure and impriwomeiit of hia master. Neither did
the tnight utter a word, but submissively waited the issno of his mig-
fortune. Havbg brouglit the cage into the chamber, they plaoed
him within it, and aceured it so that it was impossible be coulomake
his escape. In lliia situation he was conveyed ont of the house ; and
on leaving the eliambcr a voice was heard, as dreadful as the barber
could form (not heoftliepannel, but the other), saying; "0 liniglitof
thesorrowful figure! let not thy present eonfinement afflict thee, since
it is essential to the speedyoccomplishmentof the adventure in which
thy great valour hath engoj^d thee, which shall be finished when the
furious Afaiiche^n lion siiall be coupled with the white Toliosinn
dove^ after having submitted their stately necks to the soft matri-
monial joke ; from which wonderful coniunction shall spring into tlie
li^bt of tlie world brave whelps who shall emulate the ravaging claws
of their valorous sire. And this shall come to pass before the pursuer
of tlie fugitive nymph shall have made two circuits to visit the brijcht
constellations, in liis rapid and natural course. And Ihou, O the most
noble and obedient squire tiiat ever had sword in belt, beard on face,
and smell in nostrils, be not dismayed nor afflicted to sec the flower
of knight-errantry carried thus away before thine eyes ; for ere loni^
if it so please the great Artificer of the world, tliou shalt see thTselt
BO exalted and sublimated as not to know thyself; and thus will the
promises of thy valorous lord be fulfilled. Be assured, moreover, in
the name of the sage Meutironiana,* that thy wages shall be punctually
piud thee. i'oUow, therefore, the valorous and enchanted knight, for
it is expedient for tbeo to go where ye both may find repose. More
1 am not permitted to say. Heaven protect thee ! 1 now go — I
well know wliitlier!" As_he delivered this solemn prediction, the
prophet first raised hb voice high, then giadnally lowered it to so
patbetioa tone, that even tLose who were in the plot were not

iis prophecy, quickly compte-

: for lie saw that it promised

ly wedlock with his beloved

d issue the whelps his sons, to

Upon the strength of this

sigh, "0 thou, whoemr thon

udi Ecood, 1 beseech thee to

ichanlcr who hatli the charge

lerish in the prison whereiii I

of joyful and heavenly import

pass, and 1 shall glory in the

loins with which I am bound,

lie a soft bridal bed of down,

squire, Sancho Fama, I hav«

I desert me, whatever be my

ippcn, tbrongh his or my evil

destiny, that I were nnable to give him the island, or somdihiap

equivalent, according to my promise, at least he shall not lose his

Btdary; for in my will, which b already made, I have settled thnt

pobt ; not, indeed, proportionate to hii many and good services, but

* A word framed Irom "mantira," alie.

r CiCED AND CABTED.

acoordJng to my own ability." Sancho Panza bowed with great
respect, and kissed botli his mrutcr's hands ; fot one alone he eould
not, aa the? were both tied together. The ^blios then took the cage
on iheii sbouldera, and placeo it' on the waggon.

CHAFTEE XLVU.

"LTABXEDandYerygravo historians of knifhls-emuit hüTelread,"
Sftid Don Quixote, onundinj; himself tijns cooped up and carted ; " but
1 never read, saw, nor heard of enchanted knights beifia; transported
in this manner, and so slowly as these hzv, heavy animals seem to

Jrocecd; for tliey were usually convejed throuffh the air with won-
erful speed, enveloped in some thick and dork cloud, or Dnsomeliery
choriotj or mounted upon a hippogriff, or some such aninial. But to
be earned upon a team drawn by osen — before Heaven, it overwhelms
me with confusion! Perhaps, however, the encliantinenta of these
our times may differ from thoee of the anelents ; and it is also possible
that as 1 am a new knight in the world, and the Srst wlio rerived the
long'fomitten exercise of knight-errantry, new modes may have been
invented. What thinkest tbou of this, son Sancho?" "Ido not
know what to tbink," answered Saocho, " not being so well read as
your worship in seriptnres-errant ; yet I dare affirm and swear that
these hobgoblins here about us are not altoKcther catholic." "Catholic
m^ father!" answered Don Ouiiote: "how eon they be catholic,
beinz devils who have assumed tan tastic shapes to effect their purpose,
and throw me into this state ? To convince tftjself of this, try to toDCli
and feel them, and thou wilt End their bodies have no aubstanoe, but
are of air, eiisting only to t!ie siiht." " 'Fore Heaven, sir I " replied
Sancho, " 1 have already touched them ; and this devil, who is so very
busy here ahout us, is as plump as a partridge, and has another pro-
perty very different from what your devils are wont to have — for it is
■aid. they all smell of brimstone, and other had scents t but this sparic
smells of amber at lialf a league's distance." Sancho spoke ofDon
Fernando, who, beine: a cavalier of rank, must have been perfumed as
Sancho described. Wonder not at this, friend Sancho," answered
D(Hi Quixote, " for thou must know that devils are cunning ; and
althoudi they may carry perfumes about them, they have no scent
themselves, being spirits -, or, if they do sroell, it can be of nothing but
what is ionj and offensive, since wherever they are tbey carry hell
about them, and have no respite from their torments. Now, perfumes
being pleasing and delicious, it is quite impossible that tbey should
have anch an odour ; or if. to thy sense, one smelletb of amber, útber
thon deceivest thyself, or he would mislead thee, that thou mightest
itot know li'm for a fiend."

Thus were the knight and squire discoursing together when Don

Femando and Cardenio, fearing lest Sancho should see info the whole

of their plot, being already not &r from it, resolved to hasten then

A.OOgIC

non qnixoTB.

'iw^e

the priest engaied to pay the troopers of

naute's foddle, and the basin on the oliicr ; then, nfter placing ÜM
two troopers with their carbbes on each side of the wi^^n, he mada
siirns to Sancho to mount his ass, and lead Itoziiiante by tlio bddJe.
liut before the car mOTcd forward, the hostess, her daughter, attd
Maritomes, came out to take their leave of UnnQuiiote, pretendijw
to shed tcurs for ^¡ef at bia misfortune. "Weep not, my ROod
ladies," said the kni^lit, "for disasters of this kind are incident lu
tiiose of my pro/ession ; and if sncb calamities did not befal me, I
should not account myself a distin^ished knight^rrant, for these
events never oocur to the isnohle. out to those whose vnlonr and
lirtue excite the envy of princes and knights, who seek br evil machi-
nations to defame whatever is jjraisewortny and (rood, Kotwith-
standini; which, so-powerfii! is virtne, that of herself alone, in spite
of all the necromantic skill of the fitat enchanter, Zoroaster, abe wiU

.S victorious in every attack, and spread her lustre o\ „ _„_

world, as the sua illumines the heavens. Pardon me, fair ladies, if I
have throu^'h inadvertence given yon any offence — for intentionally I
never offended any person; and I beseech you to prayHcaien for my
dcliTerance from mV present thraldom ; and if ever I £nd myself at
liberty, I shall not forget the favours yon have done me in this castle,
but shall acknowledge and requite tlicm as they deserve,"

W'iiile this passed netwcen the ladies of tliecaslle and Don Qniiote,
the priest anit the barber took their leave of Don Fernando and his
companions, the captain, and of aU the ladies, now snnrcmely happy.
])on Veniando requested the priest to give him intelligence of Doa
(Quixote, assuring him that notliin^ would afford bim more satisfac-
tion than to hear of his future proceedings ; and he promised, on his

Eart, to inform him of wbntevermisbt amuse or please him respecting
is own marriaye, the baptism of Zoraida, and the return of Lucinda
to her parents, and also the issue of Don Ijouis'a amour. The priest
eugaited to perform all that was desired of him with the utmost
punctuality) after which tbcr separated, Mrith niany expressions ot
mutual cordiality and good'Wtll. Just before the priest left the houses
tbe innkeeper brought him some papers which he said be had fuund
in the lining of the wallet that contained the novel ot the " Curious
Impertinent ;" and since tlie owner had never returned to claim them,
and he could not read himself, ho might take them awav with him.
Tiie priest thanked him ; and opening the p.-mers, found-tneni to he «
novel, «)1itlcd "Kinconcte and Cortadillo;"*and,concluding that it
was by the same author as that of the "Curious Impertinent," was
inclined to judge favourably of it : he therefore accepted the manu-
script, intendiui to peruse it the first opportunity that offered, lie
and the barber then joined the cavalcade, which was arranged in th(i
following order ;— In tbe front was the car, puidcd by the owner, nnd
on each side the troopers with their matchlocks; then came Sancho
upon his ass, leading Knzimuitc by the bridle; nnd in the rear tbe
priest and his friend Nicholas, mounted on iheir stately mules ; and

• Wriltin by Ccrvant«.

TUB XKIGHT GOirVKRSES WITU THE CAKOX. S51

thus the whole moved on irith great solemoitj', regi|lo(fd by tlm alow
pace of tlie uiea. Don Quhcote sdt in the ea^e, with bis hands tied
andhisle.qs stretched out, leaning aiminst tlic bars as sileiiilyund
patient))' as if lie hul been not a diui of ilcsh and blood, but n sratue
of BtouK. In this manner they travelled about two leafniE^i vl><!n tlicy
cune to a valley whicii the wagEoner thougiit a convenient ¡ilai-e for
USting and "baiting his cattle ; but on bis proposing it, tlie burbet
recommended that tbcf should travel a little &rther, aa beyouil tbe
next rising ground there was avale that afforded much better pasture ;
sad tbis advice vas followed.

The priest, happoaing about this time- to look back, perceived
bdiind them sii or seven horsemen, well mounted and accoutred, who
soon came up with them; for they were not travelling witb the
[Alopnatic paoe of tho oien, but like persons mounted on good eccle-
awtical mutes, and eager to reach a place of shelter against tbu mid-
dar snn. The speedy overtook the bIow, and each party courteously
aafnted the other. Une of the travellers^ who was a canon of Toledo,
and master to those who acoompanied him, obserróí; the orderly pro-
cession of the waKgon, the tmopcrs, Sancho, Rocinante, the pnest,
and tbe barber, and especially Uon Qiiiiotc caged np and imprisoned,
could not forbear makrnff »omt inquiries : though, on observing the
budges of tbe hojj' bratherhood, he concluded that they «ere coa-
VCTTOg some notonoos robber, or' other criminal, whose punishment
belonged to tliat fraternity. " Why the gentleman is carrirtl iu this
manner," replied one oí the troopers who was questioned, " he must
tell you himself; for we know nothing atmnt the mntter," Upon
which Don Quinóte (having overheard what passed) snid : " If pcr-
<duuico, gentlemen, you are eonversaot iu the aHairs of chiralri', I uill
acquaint you with my mislorLnnes; but if not, I will sp.ire myself
that trouble." The priest and the barber perceiving Ihnt tbe travel-
lers were spealtiog with Don Quixote, rode up to them, lest anything
should pass that might frustrate iheir plot. The canon, in answer to
Bon Quixote, said: "In truth, brother, I am more conversant in
books of cliivalry than in Villalpando's Summaries ; yon may, liipre.
fore, freely communicate to mc whatever yon please." "With
Heaven's permission, then," replied Don Quixote, "be it known tu
jtn, BÍgnor cavalier, that I am enchanled in this cage through the envy
and fraud of wicked necromaneers ■ for virtue is more persecuted by
the wicked than beloved by the good. A knight-errant I am : not one
of those whose names fame lias forgotten to etemiEc, but one who, in
despite of envy itself, and of all the m-u^cions of Persia, theBiahmins
of India, and the gyninoeophists of Kthiopia, shrdl enrol bis name in
the temjle of immortality, to serve as a model and mirror 1o future
a«es, wnereby kniehta.errant may see the track they are to follow, if
tiiey are ambitions of reaching the honourable summit and pinnacle of
tnie glory." " Signor Don Quixote do la Mancha says the truth,"
said llie priest; "for he i» conveyed in that enchanted state not
throngii hie own fault or demerit, but the mnlice of those to vhoni
virtue is odious, and courage obnoxious. This, sir, is the knislit of
the sorrowful figure, whose valorous exploits and neroie deeds .shnll
be recorded on solid brass and everlasting marble, in despite of all the
tflbrts of envy and nialico fo conceal and obscure them." The canon,
npon hearinfi not onlv the imprisoned but the free man talk in such a
atyle, crossed himself in amazement, nor were hi» followers less sur-
,, ..A.OOgIC

853 iKis QDTXon.

prised ; and Sancho bot coming np, to mend the matter, siud ; " Loot
ye, centlenien, let it be well or ill taken, I will ont with it : the truth
of tlie case is, my master, Don Quixote, is just as much enchanted as
my motlier; he is in his perfect senses— he eats, drinks, and doesevery-
thin? else like other men, and as .he did yesterday, before they cooped
him up. This being so, will you persuade me he is enchanted? The
enchanted, 1 have heard say, neither eat, nor sleep, nor speak ; bat ray
master here, if nobody stops him, will talk ye miffe thin thirty bar-
risters." TheD,turnii^fo the priest, he went on saying; "Ah,niBster
priest, master priest, do I not know you ? And tliink you that I
cannot jiiirss what these new enchantments drive at? Let me tell
yon 1 know you, though you do hide your face, and understaud you,
too, sly as yon may be. But the good cannot aoide where envy rules,
nor is generosity found in a beggarly breast. Evil befal the devil!
Had it not been for jour reverence, before this time his worehip had
been married to the princess Micomicona, and I had been an earl at
least ; for I could expect no less from my master's bounty, and the
greatness of my services. But I find the proverb true, that 'the
wheel of fortune turns swifter than a mill-wheel,' and tlicy who were
yesterday at tlie top are to-day at the bottom. I am grieved for my
poor wife and children ¡ for when they might reasonably expect to see
their father come homeagovcmor or viceroy of some island or king-

•m, they will now see him return a pitiful groom. All this I sa^,

"'er priest, only to make your paternity feel some compunction IQ

d to what you are doing with my master ; take liced tliat you

are not called to an account in the next life for this ii. _. . ._

my lord, and aU the goad he might have done during this time of his
confinement be required at yoarliands." " Snnff me these candles t"
quoth the harhet, intcrTupliiw the squire : " what ! art thon, Sancho,
of thy master's fraternity? As Heaven shall save me, Ibesintothink
thon art likely to keep him company in tlie c;^, for thy share of bis
humour and his chivalry. In an evil hour wcrt thou puffed up by his
promises, and thy head filled with islands." " I am not puffed up at
all," answered Sancho, "nor am I a man to suffer myself to become
BO by the promises of the best king that may be : and though I am a
poor man, I am an old Christian, and owe nobody anything ; and if I
covet islimdg, there are others who covet worse thinas ; and every one
is the son of his own works : and beiiw a man, Imay come to be
pope, and mnch more easily, governor of an bland ; especially sinca
my master may win so many, that he maybe at a loss «here to bestow
them- Take need, master barber, what you say: {oc shavii^ beards
is not alL and there is some difference between Pedro and I'edro. I
say this because we know one another, and there is no putting false
dice upon me. As for my master's enchantment. Heaven knows the
tmth, and let that rest — it is the worse for stirring." The barber
would not answer Bancho, lest his simphcitv should betray them : and
for the same reason the priest desired the canon to go on alitUe
before, saying he would let aim into the mystery of the imprisoLment,
with other particulars that wonld amuse turn.

The canon and his servants then rode on before with the priest, who
entertained him with a circumstantial account of ijon Quixote, from
the first symptoms of his derancemcnt to his present situation in the
cage. The canon was suipriscd at what he heard- " Truly," said he
to the curate, "those tatea of cbiv^ry are very prejndicial to the
A.OOgIC

EXIOST-EBAUITBT KlntCITLED. SG3

common -weal ■ and though led awaf by an idle and false tastn, I hnve
Tead in part almost all tbat are printed, I could never get tliroagh the
vboleof anyone of them— they are allaomnch alike. In m; opinion,
this kiod of wntiiig and eompositioQ folb under ihe hf^ad oí what are
called Milcsiaa fables, nliicli are extravagant stories calculated merely
to amuse, and very unlike those moral talcs «hich are no less ins'.ruc-
tive than entertaining ; and though the principal object of such booka
is to please, 1 know not how they can attain that end by such mon-
atrous absurditicfl : for the mind receives pleasure from the beauty and

of a talc in which a jouth of aiiteen hews down a giaDt bí. .

steeple, and splits hun ¡a two as if he wore made of paste ? Oi how
■re we to be interested in the detail of a battle, when ife are told that
the hero contends abne a^cainst a million of adversaries, and obtains
the rielori- by hb single arm ? Then what shall we say to the facility
with which a queen or empres!» throws herself into the arms of an
errant and unknown kniirht ? What mind, not wholly barbarous and
uncultivated, can feel satisücd in reading that a vast tower, full of
knights, is Liunchcd upon the ocean, and sailing like a ship before the
wind, is to>nizhtin Lorn hardy, and tomorrow morning in the country
of Préster John, in the Indies, or in some other that I'tolciiiy never
discovered, or Marco Paolo ever saw ? It may he siud that these being
professedly works otinventioa, should not be criticised for inaccuraci; :
Dut I say that fiction should be probable,atidthatinproportionasitis
to, it is pleasing. Fables shoald not be composed to outrage the under-
standiog ; but Dy making the wonderful appear possible, and creating
in the mind a plcasini; interest, tbey mav both surprise and entertain ;
idiieh cannot be effected where noregardispaidtoprobability. Ihave
ncTer yet found a regular, well-connected faole in any of oar books of
ohival^— thcv are all inconsistent and monstrous ; tfae style ia gtne-
lallybad; and they abonod with incredible exploits, lascivious amours,
absurd sentiments, and miraculous adventures : in short, they slioula
be banished every Christian country."

The priest listened attentivelv to these obsorvations of the canon,
vhich he thought were perfectly jast ; and he told him that he also
bad snch enmity to those tales of chivalry that he had destroyed all
that Don Quiiote had possessed, which were not a few in number i
and he amused the canon very much by his account of the formal
trial and condemnation through whidi they had passed. " Notwith'
standing all that I have said against this kind of book¿" said the canon,
" I think they certainly have the advantage of a^uxling an ample
field for the exercise of genius : there is such scope for descriptivo
|K>wers, in storms, sliipwrecka, and battles ; and a&o for the deUnea-
fion of character, for instance, in the military hero^his foresight in
uiticipating the stratagems of his adversary, his eloquence in eiicuu-
tngini; or restaining his followers, his wisdom in council, his promp-
titude in. action. Now the author paints a sad and tragio^il event.
Bud now one that is joyful ; sometimes he expatiates on a valiant and
ooarleons knight, at others on a rude and lawless barbarian ; now on
a warlike and affable prince, tlieu a good and loyal vassal, lie tmj
■how himself to be an excellent astronomer or seogr^her, a musi-
cian, or a statesman; andif he [)leases, may even duate on the wonders
QCy. Ue may describe the mbtilty of Ulyues, the piety
A.OOgIC

S54 voy <iüizoiB.

of JEacas, flic bra?cry of Acliillea, the misfortunea of Ilecior, Ibo
trcnclicry oí Siiion, the friendsbip of Eurjalos. the Jiberabty of
AlrxHiidcr, the valour of Cftsar, the clemeiicj' uia probity of TniJMi,
tlic fidelity of Zopyroa, tlie irisdom of Cato, and finally all those
quidities nhii^h constitute the pcifcot bero ; cither uniting them ia a
ungle person or dislribatin; tlietn amoni maay; and if all this be
dnne ¡n a natural and pleasing style, a neb of various and beaatiful
oontnxture might surelv be wi-ouiilit, that would be equally driitchtful
and instructive. Tlic freedom, indeed, of this kind of compositioB is
alike favmirabic to the anthor, wlietlier he irould dispUy his powers
in epic (lor there may be epic in prose aa veil as verae), or in lyric,
in ii-asedy or comedy — in short, ia every depaitmait of the delicioua
art» of poetry and oratory."

CHAPTER XLTIII.

" Vert true — it is ejsctly as yon My, sir," «aid the priest to tbo
canon; "and, therefore, those vho have hitherto composed meli
books are the more deserving of censure for their entire disríqíard to
good sensft, and every rule by which they might have becoo» (he
rivals in prose of the two prinoes of Greek and Latin poetry." " I
have myself made an attempt to ^t« a book of knight-errantry on a
better pUn," said the canon : " and, to oonfess the Imth, I have not
writlen less ttian a hnndred ebects, which I have «hown to some
learned and judicions friends, as well a» to others iese cultivated aod
more Lkcly to be pleased with extravagance ; and from all I met with
encouragement. Notwithstanding this, I have never pcooeedcd in
the work, partly from an idea that it was foreign to my fnírtawo,
and partly from the consideration of what a great majority of fools
there is in the world ¡ and, althoiu;h I know that tlie a^Mvbation of
the judicious few should far outweigh the censure of the ignorant, yet
I feel averse to eipoaingmyself to vulvar criticism, I was discoursed,
too, whenever I reflected on the present state of the drama, and the
absurdity and incoherence of most of our modem ooraedics, whether
fictitious or historical ; for the actor and author both say that ttiej
must please the people, and not produce compositions which can only
be appreciated by a naif score of men of sense ; and that thev would
rather gain subsistence by the many than reputation by tne few.
'What other fate, then, could I eipect but that, after racking my
brains to produce a reasonable work, I should get nothing but ny
labour for mj pains ? I have occasionially endeavoured to perauade
theatrical managers that they would not only gain more credit but
eventually find it more odvantageous to prodace better dramas ; bat
they will not listen to reasoa Conversing one day with a feliow of
this kind, I said, ' Do you not remember that a few years since three
tragedies were produced which were universally admired; that
dehgbted both tlie ^notant and the wis^ the vulgar M wcU as tha

A.OOgIC

DiscoinuE 05 mi diu.ua. 8S5

enltivated ; and that b7 tboxe three pieces the pkycn guned more
Ihaii by thirty of the best which have since Iwen represented ?' 'I
BUppose yoH mean the " Isabella," " PhiUia," and " Alcxnndrs,"' he
repficd. 'The same,' said I; 'and pray recollect, that althougli they
were wrilten in strict conformity to the rules of ait^ they were suc-
cessful : the whole blame, therefore, is not to be ascribed to the taste
of the Tulgar. There is notlim^ absurd, for instance, in the pUy of
" Inaratitude Revenged," nor m the "isnmantia," norin the Mer-
chant Lover," much less in the "I'aTDurahle iiemy;" or in some
Dtliers, Doinposed by insenions poets, to their own resomi and the
profit of those who acted them.' To these I added other ailments,
which I thought iu Bome degree perplexed him, but were not so con-
Tincinj as to make him reform bis erroneous pnietioe."

" Signor canon," said the priest, " yon have touched npon a subject
which has revived in me an old gnidge 1 have bome n^ast our
modem plays, scarely less than that 1 feel towards books of chivalry ;
for though the drama, according to Cicero, ooght to be the mirror of
luman life, an eiemplar of manners, and an imajte of tmth, those
which are nowproduradaremirrors of inconsistency, patterns of folly. .
and imaiiKS of ucentiousQess, What, for instance, can be more absnnl
Uan the introduction in the ñrst scene of the first act of a child in
iwaddliog-ciothes, that in the second makes bis appearance as a
bearded man P or to represent an old man valiant, a young man
cowardly, a footman a rhetorician, a page a privy-counsellor, a king a
watar-carrier, and a princesa a sculbon P Nor are they more obser-
vant of place than of time. I have seen a comedv, the firat act of
which M'as laid in Europe, the second in A«a, and tee thlid in Africa ;
and, had there been four acts, the fourth would doubclees have been

bear to see BB aetionwhicu passed in the time of king Pepin or Ghap
lemagne, ascribed to the emperor Heracliiis, who is introdueed carry-
iS the cross into Jerusalem, or recovering the holy sepulchre, Uke

Godfrey of Boulogne, thoueh numberless years had elapsed between
these actions C and, when the piece is founded on notion, to see histo-
rical events mingled with facts relating to different persons and
times F — and all tliiswithoutany appearance of probability, but, on the
oontrarr, full of the grossest ^surdity ? And yet there ara people who
think all this perfection, and cull everything else mere pedantrv. The
laered dramas too — how they arc made to ahoond with false and
incomprehensible eveiita : frctiuently confounding the nh'acles ^ one
saint with those uf another : indeed, they are often introduced in pli^
on ptofuie subjects, merelj^ to please the people. Thus is our natural
taste degraded in the opinion of cultivated nations, who, judging by
tbe eX-travagance and absurdity of our p^uotions, conceive us to be
in ft state of ignorance andbaroarism. It isnotasuSicieat excuse to
aay that the object in permitting theatrical exhibitions being chi^^

to provide innoeent recreation for the people, it is unueoesaarytoUmit
ud reetroin the dramatic author within strict rules of composition ;
for I affirm that the same object is, beyond all comparison, more
effectually attained by Intimate works. The spectator of a good
drama n amused, admomsiicd, and improved, by what is diveitíng,
afiectiog, and moral iu the representation: be is cautioned against
deoeil» oonected by example incensed against vio^ stimalated to the

" A.oogic

SEO DOB ■it'ixon.

love of virhie. Sacli are the eCTccta prodaced b; dramiUic excellency
bat they are not to be expected oa our present sluice : altiiough we
have many aulhora perfectly aware of the prevailing defecta, hut who
justify themsclTes b/ saying that, in order lo make their works sale-
able, they must write wh^ the theatre wiil purchase. We have »
proof of this even in the haijpiest genius of our countr};, who bai
written an infinite nnmber of dramatic vorks with such vivacity aod
elegance of style, such loftiness of sentiment and richness of elocu-
tion, that his fame had spread over the world ; nevertheless, in con-
forming occasionally to the bad taste of Ihe present dny, his proauctions
arenol all equally eicellent. Besides the errors of taste, some authors
have indulged in public and private scandal, inso-jiuch that the actors
have been oblifred lo abscond. These and every other ineonveuience
wonid be obviated if some intelligent and judicious person of the
court were appointed to eianiine all plavs before they are acted, and
without whose approbation none should be performed. Thus guardi-d.
the comedian might act without personal nsk, and the author would
write with more circumspectiou ; and by such a reg:ulation works of
merit might be more frequent, to the benefit and honour of the
country. And in truth were the same or some other person appointed
to examine all future books of chivalry, we might hope to see some
more perfect productions of this kind to enrich our language, and
which, Buperseoing the old romances, would afford rational amusement
not to the idle alone, but to the active : for the bow cannot remain
alwavB bent, and relaxation both of body and mind is indispensable

The canoa and the priest were now inteminted in their dialofrue br
the barber, who, coming iip to them, said, " This is the spot wlicre I
proposed we should r^ ourselves; ana the cattle will Knd here
plenty of grass. The canon hearing this, determined to halt likewise
induced by the beauty of the place and the pleasure he found in the
priest's conversation; besides, he was curious to see and hear more of
Don Quixote, He ordered some of bis attendants to go to the
nearest inn and bring provisions for the whole party ; but he was told
by one of them that their sumpter-mule, which had gone forward,
carried abundance of relreshment, and that they should want nothing
from the inn but barley ; upon which he despatÁhed them in haste for
the mule.

During the foregoinf; conversation between the canon and the
curate, Mncho perceivmg that he might speak lo bis master without
tie continual presence oi the priest ¿id the barber, whom he looked
npqn with snspieion, came np to his master's cage, and said to him :
" Sir, to disburden my conscience, I must tell you something about
this enchantment of yours ; and it is this, that those who are riding
idong with us with their faces covered are the priest and the barber Oi
our town ; and I fancy they have played you this trick and are cairy-
ingyouin thismanneroutofpnreenvy of your worship for surpassing
tbem in famous achievements. Now supposing this to be true, it is
plain that you are not enchanted, but cheated and fooled ; for proof
whereof I would ask you one thing; and if you answer me, as I
beheve you most, you ahall lay your finger upon this cheat, and find
that it is just as I say." "Ask what thou wilt, son Sancho," answered
Don Quixote ; " for I will satisfy thee to the full without reserve.
Hut as to thy assertion that thráe persons who accompany ns are

ur WPOitTiKT tpmnax. 257

tbe priest and the Wber, our toimsmen and acquaiataace— hcnrerei
they may appear to thee, thou must in nowiae believe it. Of this
thou mayeat be assured, that if they appear t« be such they have only
asaumed their semblance ; for enchanters can easily take what forma
they please, and they may have selected those of our two frieoda in
Older to mislead and invoire thee in such a labyrinth of fazioiea
that eren the due of Theseus could not extricate thee. Besides, tbej
may also have done it to make me «aver in my jud^uent, and
prerent jne from suanecting from what quarter tnis injury comea.
fW, if on the ooe hand, thou sayst that the priest and barber of our
vSl^e are our companions, and on the other I find myself looked ap
in a cage, and am conacions that supernatural force alone would have
power to imprison me — what can I say or think but that the mmmer
of my enchantment is more exlraordina^ than any that I have ever
read of in history F Heat assured, therefore, that these are no mote
the persons thou sayest than 1 am a Turlc. As to thy queries— make
them ; for 1 will answer thee, though thou shouldet continue aakiog
nnti! to-morrow moraing." Blessed "Virgin!" atiswered SmioIio,
rusing his voice. " is your worship indeed so thick-sculled ana
devoid of brains that yon do not see what I tell you to be the very
truth, and that there is more roguery than enchantment in this mishap
of yours, as I will cleail; prove? Now tell me, as Heaven shall
deliver you from this trouble, and as yon hope to nnd yonrself in my
Lady Dulciuea'a arms when you least think of it " " Cease ocm-

Í' irins me," said Bon Quixote, " and ask what qncstiona thou wilt,
K I have alreadv told thee that I will answer them with the utmost
precision." "Triat is what I want," replied Sancho; "and all I
crave is that you would tell me, without adding or diminishing a
tittle, and vnth that truth which is expected from all who exercise
the profession of anna, as your worship does, under the title oí

iniglts-crrant " " I tell thee I will lie in nothing," answered

Don Quixote: " therefore, speak ; forin truth, Sancho,! am wearied
with so many salvos, poslolstums, and preparativea." " I saj,"
replied Sancho, "that I am fully satisfied of the goodness and veraraty
of^my master ; and therefore, it being quite to the purpose in oui
affiiir, I ask (with respeel be it spoken), whether since you have been
cooped ap, or as you call it enchanted, in this cage, your worship has
haoany natural inclinations P" " I do not understand thee, Sancho,"
said Don Quixote ; " explain thyself, it thou wouldst have me give thee
a direct answer." " Is it possible," quoth Sancho, " jour worship
ahonld not understand that phrase, when the very children at school
arc weaned with it ? Yoa must know, then, it means whether you have
not had an incliualion to lighten jour stomach of exhausted matters?"
"Ay, now I oomprdiend thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "andin
traUi I have often had such inclmatioa."

UirireM,, Google

CHAPTER TT.rr

"AbI" qaoth Sanc)io, "nov I bare caught jon; this ia what I
longed to knov with nil my heart and soul. Come on, sir ; can yon
deny whst is b everj-bod/s mouth, when a person ia la the damps F
It is always then «aid, ' X know not what sDcn an one úls — he neither
eats, nor drinks, nor sleep», nor answers to the purpose, like other
men — snrely he is enchanted.' Wherefore it is clear that soeh, and
anch only, are enchanted wlio neither eat, nor drink, nor sleep, and
not they who eat and drink when they can get it, and answer properly
to all tbat is asked them." "Thou art right, Sancho," answered
Bon Quixote ; " but I have already told thee that there are sundry sorts
of encDantments, and it is probable that in process of time they may
have changed, and that now it may be usual for thoee who are
enchanted to do as I do, though it was formerly otherwise: it is
impossible to argue or draw conclusions from the rarving customs of
different periods. I know and am verily ^rsuaded that I am
encbantea 1 and that is sufficient for my conscience, which would be
heavily burdened if I thought I wa» not so, but suffered myself to líe
in this cage like a coward, defranding the necessitous and oppressed
of auccoor, when perhaps at this Terymoment they may be in extreme
want of my aid and protection." "But for all that," repLed Sancho,
"I aajt, for your greater and more abundant satisfaction, that yoor
woialup will do well to endeavour to get out of this prison; aiid I
will nndertake to help you with all my might. You may then once
more mount your trusty RoEinant^ who seems ai if he were enchanted
too, he looks so melancholy and dejected ; and we may again try our
fortone in search of adventares : and if matters turn ont not qoite to
our hearts' content, we can come back to the cage ; and I promise
yqup on the faith of a good tod loyal sq^ir^ to sliut myself np in it
with your worship," "I am content to follow thy advice, brother
Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "and when thou seest an opoortunity
for effecting my deliverance, I will be guided entirely by tnee ; bat
be MsoretL Sancho, thou wilt find thyself mistaken as to the nature
of my miafortune."

In such convewation the kmght-ernint and the evil-errant sqoirs
were engaged, until they came to the place where the priest, the
canon, and the barber were already ali^nted and waiting for utem.
The waggoner then unyoked the oxen from his team, and turned them
looee upon tíiat green and delicious spot, the freshness of which was
inviting not only to those who were enchanted, like Uon Quiiot&
but to discreet and enlightened persons like his squire, who besoaght
the priest to pennit his master to come unt of the cage for a short
time; otherwise that prison woold not be quite so clean as decency
required in the acconunodaliou of such a knight as his master. The
pmet understood him, and said that he would readily consent to his

THX nn»HT n bkzash».

nqneat ; bat he feared lest his miisteT, finding hitnMlf at liberty,
ahonld ii*j hü old pnnlca, nnd be gone Where he tni^bt nercr be seen

■le enchuted h»Te no power over their own persons, for tbeir peise-
oators maj render them motionless doríng three centuries ; fan ma^,
therefore, ssfel; release me." He then intimated ferther that his
removal mieht prore more agreeable to all the party on another
acoonnt. The canon took him bf the hand, though he was still
Bwoacled, and apon his bith and word thef nncaged him, to bis frreat
satiafaction. The Erst thing that he did was to Biretch himself; after
that he went np to Uoimante, and giving him a conple of slap» on the
hinder patts with the palm of his hand, he said: "i vet trust in
Heaven, 0 thon flower and pattern of ste^ ! that we shall both soon
Ke onrselTea in that state which is the desire of oar hearts— thoa
with th; lord on thr back, and I monnted opon thee, eiercbing the
fimction for which Heaven destined me ! " Tne knight then, attended
bf Sancho, retired to some httle distance; whence he came back
much relieved, and still more e<^er to pnt in eiecntion what his
squira had projected. The canon contemplated him with surprise :
tít he dispUved in conversatitn a ver; good understanding, and
seemed, as it natb been before observed, cmlj to tose his stirmps on
tiíñ theme of cbivalr; ; and while thejr «ere waiting for the return of
the sumpter-mule, he was induced, out of oompassioa to his infirmity,
to address him on the subject.

" Is it possible, worthj sir," said the canon, " that the disgusting
and idle stody of doc^ cd chivalrr should ao powerfully have affected
TOUT brain as to make ^Odbelievetnat yon are DOW enchanted, with other
fuuñes of the same kind, ■■ far from tmth as falsehood itself P Is it

giants; alt ii
encounters ; c

billet-doui, amours, i . . . _

which books of chivalry contain ? Vor my own part, I <n
I read them without refieoting on tbeir falsehood and foil
ve some amusement ; bnt when I consider what they are, i aasn loem
•gainst the wall, and evenoonunit lAem to the flames when 1 am near
a fire, as «ell deserving auch a fate, for their want of common senses
and tiieir iigurioua tendency in misteadins the uziinfbrn>ed. Nav, thej
maf even disturb the intellects of sensible and well-hen i^tlemen,
u IS manifest by the effect they have had on your worship, who is
reduced br them to such a state that vou are forced to b« shut up in
a BSge and carried on a team from place to place, like some lion or
tiger exhibited for money. Ah, Signor Don Quiiote ! 4iavo pitv on
TDUiself: shake off this folly, and employ the talents with which
Heaven has blessed yon in the cultivation of literature more subser-
vient to your honour, as well as ptoiiLable to yoor micd. If a strone
n^nral impulse still leads yon to books containing the eiiiloits of
beroes, read in the Holy Siñiptnreí the book! of Judges, where von
will meet with wonderful truths, and achievements no leas heroic than
tnu. Fortngtd had a Viriatoa, IU)me a Sasar, Carthage a Hannibal.

8 3 r , . A.OO'^IC

SCO SOX qoasn».

Greeee an Aleumder, Cnstile a Coont Fenwodo Gonzdei, VaIen«ÍB«
Cid, Andalucía k (üoázalo Feniandez, Estremadim a Die^ Qarra» de
Faicdea, Xerei a Garcia Perez de Vargas, Toledo a Garcilaao, and
Seville a Don Manuel deLeoQ ; the mciniiirs of vhoae bcroio deeds afford
a rational sonroe of amusemcat and pleasure. This, indeed, would be a
■hu^wortfav of four undentanding, rny dear air. by whicli you wonld
become well instructed in history, enamoured of virtue, fanuUBr with

Don Quñote listened with great attention to the canon till he
bad ceased speaking, and then, looking steadfastly in his faoe, he
repbed : " I oonceiv^ sir, that tou mean to insúmate that there nera
were knigbtB-erraut m the world; tli&t all books of chivalry tie falsa,
miscbievouB, and unprofitable to the commonwealth ; and that I haw
done ill in reading, worse in believing, and still worae in imitating
tbem, by following the rigorous profession of knigbt^eiTantry, as by
them exemjilifiedi and mo that you deny that there ever existed tl»
Amadisea either of Gaul or of Greece, or any of those celebrated
knights P" " 1 mean precisely what you say," replied the cmlod.
" You also were pleased to add, I believe,'' continued Don Quixote,
" that those books had done me much prejudice, baviiuc injured my
brain, and occasioned my impriionmcnt in a cage ; and thai it would
be better for me to champe my course of study by reading other books
more true, more pleasant, and more instractivef" "Just so," quoth
the canon. " Why, then," said Dun Quixote, " in my opinion, sir, it
is yourself who are deran^ and enchanted, since you have dated to
blasiilicme an order so universally acknowledged in the world, and its
existence so authenticated that he trho denies it merits that puiush-
ment you are pleased to say you inñict on certain books. To assert
that there never was an Ainadis in the world, nor any other of the
knigbts'sdventureis of whom so many reconis remain, is to say that
the sun does not eoligliten, the frtMt produce cold, nor the earth yieU
sustenance. What human ingenuity can make us doubt the truth of
that affair between the Infantil Floniies and Gn» of Burgundy f and
that of Fierabrás at the bridge of Mantible, wliich occurred in the
time of Charlemagne P— I vow to God, they are as true as that it is
now dayhght ! u theee arc fictions, it must be denied also that there
ever was a Hector or an Achilles, or aTroian war, or the twelve peen
of France, or King Arthur of England, who is still wandering about,
tranafomied into a raven, and is everi moment expected in lug king-
dom. They will even dare to aiñnu fliat the history of Guarino
Mezquino, and tbat of the acquisition of the Santo Grial, are lies ; «ud
tliiU the amour of Sir Tristram and the queen Iseo. as well as liiose
of Ginebra and Lancelot, are also apocryphal: altliougb there an
persons wbo almost remember to have seen the duenna Quintañona,
who was the best wine-akinner in Great Britain. And this is bd
certain, that I remember my grandmother by my father's side, when
she saw any dnemia rcvcrectly coifed, would say to mc, ' That woman,
grandson, looks like the dacnna Quintañona;' whence I Infer that she
must either have known her. or at least seen some true efiigy of her.
Then who can deny the trutli oS the history of Fetet of Frovence ud

CONTXBSATIOII ON KHiaBT-EIXAIITKT. 861

H» fiar UasbIoiu, since even to this da; 70T1 ma; see in t!ic king;'»
BrmouT the xerv peg nberewith the vslinnt Peter steered the wooden
bone tnst bore him through tha air ; wljicli pes is somewhut larger
than the pole of a coach ; and near it lies the saddle of Babieca P In
fionoesvalles, too, there maybeseeüOrhuido'shoni, thesizeofa^reat
beam. It is, therefore, erident that there were tbe twelve peers, tho
Paters, the Cida, and all those knights commonlv tenned adveiiturers :
Md if that be donbtcd, it will be said too tliat the valiant Fortui(ueB&
Jiim de Merlo, was no Inigbt-errwit ; he who went lo Burgundy, ana
in the city of Ras fougrbt the famous lord ofCharni, Mouseigueur
tkm ; and afterwards, in the city of Basil, Monaeigneur Jiiiriqne of
Remestan: coming off conigueror in both engagements. They will
deny also the challenges and feats pcrronned in Burgundy by the
Tsliimt Spaniacda, Pedro Barba and Gutierre Qiiiiada (from whom I
am lineally descended), who vanquished the sons of the count San
Polo. Let them deny, likewise, that Don Eemando de Guevara tr»-
veiled into Gennany in qurát of adventures, where he fought with
Mesure George, a knight of the duke of Austria'a court. I^t them
say that the jousts of Kuero de Quiñones of the Pass were all mockery :
and the enterprises of Monaeignenr Louis de Palees against DonG,.n-
>b1o de Qozman, a Castilían kmght. with many other exploits performed
by Christian knighta of these ana other kingdoms :— all so authentic
and tme, that I say again whoever denies them most be wholly desLi-
tnte of acuse and reason."

The canon was astonished at Don Qniiote's medle;^ of truth and
fiottou, as weL as at the extent of his knowledge on affairs of chivalry ;
and be replied, " I cannot deny, Signor Don Quixote, but that there
is some truth in what yon say, especially with regara to ihe knights-
errant of Spain;'! grant, also, that there were the twelve peers of
Ttaxax -. but I can never believe that they performed all the deeds
ascribed to them bv Archbishop Turpio. The truth is, tliey were
knights chosen by tne kings of iVance, and called peers from being
all equal in quality and prowess~at least it was inteudcd that they
riiould be so ; and in this respect they were similar to the religions
order of Saint Jago or C^trava, all tho professors of which, it is prn-
sumetL are noble, valiant, and virtuous; and were called KnightÁ of
St Jonn, or of Alcantara, just as those of the ancient order were
tenned Knights of the Twelve Peers. That there was a Cid no one
will den; ana likewise a Bernardo del Carpió : but that they pet-
fiinned all the exploits ascribed to them I believe there ia great reaswi
to donbt. As to Peter of Provence's peg, and it« standioi; near
Babieca's saddle in the king's armourv, I confess my sin in bemg so
ignorant or shortsighted that, though I have seen tbe saddle I never
could discovered the peg— large w it is, socordin^ to your desorip-
tion." "Yet, unquestionably, there it is," replied Don Quixote;
" and they say, moreover, that it is kept in a leathern case, to prevent
ntst." "It ma; beso," answered tbe canon; "but by the holy orders
I have leceived, I do not remember to have seen it. Yet, even
trraatins it, I am not therefore bound t« believe all the storiee of M
naa; Ámádises, and the whole tribe of knigjita-errant ; and it ú
eUnmdinan that a gentleman poasessed of your understanding and
talents shonid gire credit to awM extrwaganoe and abnirdit;."

CHAPTER L.

"Vastly fine! — a good jert, trolj," swd Don Qnixol*, "that
books priated with the ^cence of kiuga uid the approbation of ths
eisnibers, read with general pleasure, and applauded by great and
small, poor and rich, learned and ienorant, nobles and pleoeinns — in
short, by people uf every state and condition, should be all lies, and
at the same lime appear so much like truth ! for do they not tell
us the poreutage, the country, the kindred, the age, with a particular
detail of every action of this or that kiii|;ht ? Good sir, De silen^
uid utter not aucb blasphemies ; and believe me serióos «hen I
adrise jou to think on this subject more like a man of sense : onlj
pertue these memoirs, end they will abundantly repay your trouble.
vVhat more delightful thiui to havs, as it were, before our eyes a
vaat lake of bouing pitch, with a ¿rodigioQS number of serpents,
Bnakes, crocodiles, and divers olber kinds of fierce and dreadful crea-
tures, floatiug in it ; and from the midst of the lake to hear a most
dreaaful voice saying, ' O knight, whosoever thou art, now surveying
this tremendous lake, if thou wouldst possess the treasure that lies
ccmcealed beneath these sable waters, show the valour of thy un-
daunted breast, and plunge thyself headlong into the midst of the
black and boming liquid ; if not, thou wilt be imworthy to see the
mighty wonders endued therein, and contained in the seven castles
of the seven enchanted nymphs who dwell beneath this horrid
blackness.' And scarcely has the knight heard these terrific words
when, without farther consideration or reñection upon the danger
to which he exposes himself, and even without putting off his cumbrous
armour, he commends himself to Heaven and his mistress, and
plunges headlong into the boiling pool ; when unexpectedly he finds
himself in the midst of flowery fields, with which those ot Elysium
can bear do comparison, where the sky seems far more cleat and the
sun shines with greater brightness. Beyond it appears a forest of
beautiful and shady trees, whose verdure regsies the sight, whilst the
ears are entertained with the sweet, and artless notes of an infinite
number of little birds of various huea, hopping among the mtricate
branches. Here he discorers a little brook, nbose clear waters,
resembbue bquid crystal, run murmuriug over the fine sands and
snowy petóles, which rival sifted gold and purest pearl. Thcr« he
sees an artíñcial fountain of variegated jasper and polished marble.
Here he beholds another of rustic composition, in which the minute
shells of the muscle, with the white and yellow wreathed houses of
the suoil, arranged in orderly confusión, inter3¡)ersed with pieces of
g:litterini crystal and pelludd emeralds, compose a work of such
variety that art, imitating nature, seems here to surpass her. Then

imposed of diamondsk ud

IHI EHICHT DBFWfDS CEITUAI, S6S

the gates of tif&cnnths ■ in short, the gtrootore is so ftdmirahle Üiat,
though the maUrialB irhereof it is framed are no leas th&n diamonds,
carbuacka, rabiea, peuls, gold, and emeraUs, yet the workmaoBhip
is still more precious, dna after this, can aujthing be more cbann-
ing than to tebold, sallying forth at the c(Htl&«ate, a goodlr trot^ of
dnnaels, in mcb nch and gargeoaa attire, that were I to atíempt the
minute description that is giTen in history, the task would be end-
leas: and then she who appears ta be the principal takes b; the
hand the daring; knight who threw himself into the burning lake, and
silentlf leads him into the rich palace or castle ; and stripping lum as
naked as when he first came into the world, bathes him in temperate
water, and then anoints him with odoriferoos essences, and puta on
him a shirt of the finest lawn, all sweet-scented and perfumed. Then
comes another damsel, and throws over hia shoulders a mantle worth
B cilf, at least. He is afterwards led into aoather haH, where be is
struck with wonder and admiration at the sight of tables spread in
beautiful order. Then to see him wash his hands in water distilled
from amber and sweet-scented flowers ! To see him seated in a chair
of ivory ! To behold the damsels waiting npon him, all preserving a
marvellous silence I Then to see soch a variety of delictooa viands,
so savourily dressed that the appetite is at a loss where to direct the
hand! To hear soft mosic while be is eating, without knowing
whence the sounds proceed! And when the repast is finished, and
Üie tables removed, the knight reclines on hia seat, and perhaps is
nicking hia teeth, when suddenly the door of the saloon opens, and
lo ! a damsel enters more beautifol than any of the former, who.
seating herself by the knight's side, b^ins to give him an account of
that castle, and to inform how she is enchanted itt it, with snnd^
other matters which amase the knight and all those who read his
history. I will enlarge on this no farther; for yon most be con-
rincei from what I nave said, that every part of every history
of a knight-errant must yield wonder and delight. Study well these
books, SLgnor ; for, believe me, you will find that thejf will eihilarate
and improve your mind. Of myself I can say, that since I have been
a knight-errant I am become valiant, polite, liberal, well-bred, gene-
rous, courteous, daring, affable, patient, a sufferer of toils, impnson-

only in inclination is a dead thing, even as faith withoat works ¡s
dead. I shall, Üiercfnrc, rejoice when fortune presents me with an
opportunity of eialting myself, that 1 may show my heart in con-
ferring benefits on mj fiiends, especially on poor Sancho Panza here,
my squire, who is one nf the best men in the world ; and I would fain
bútow on him an earldom, as I have loi^; since promised ; although
I am somewhat in doubt of hia ability in the government of his

Sancho, overhearing his master's last words, said, " Take yM the

trouble, signot Don Qaixote, to procure me that some earldom,

which your worship has so often promised, and I have been so long

waiting for, nnd yon shall see that I shall not want t^nlity to govern

, , . .A.OOgIC

964 Doir Q:nixoTB.

K. Bat even if I «honld, tliere ue people, I btwe heard S17, iriio

fum these lordships ; and, pnying " ...

npon themselves the gotenunent 01 ..__ . ,

at bis ease, enjoying his estate, without concernins
ther about it. Just so will 1 do, and pive niyself no more titmUe
than needs tonat, but emo; myself like any duke, and let the
world rub." "This, brotber Stmcho," said the canon, "may be
done, as for as regards tlie management of your revenue ; but the
administration of justice must be attended to by the lord hinisdf ;
and requires capacity, judgment, and, above all, an upright ivtm-
tion, without which nothing prospers: for Heaven assists the good
btent of the simple, and disappoints the evil designs of the cun-
ning." " I do not understand ttiese philosophies." answered Sancho ;
" all that I know is, that I wish I nay as surely have the earldom
■3 I should know how to govern it ; for I have as k^ a soul as
another, and as lai^ a body as the best of them ; and I should be as
touch king of my own dominion as any other king ; and, bein» so, I
would do what I pleased; and, doing what I pleased, I shoota have
my will ; and, having my will, I should be contented ; and, being
content, there is iko more to be desired ; and when there is no more
to desire, there is an end of it, and let the estate ooine ; so Heaven
be with ye, and let us ace it, as one blind man said to anoiber."
" These are no bad philosophies, as you say, Sancho," quoth the
canon ; " nevertheless, there is a great deal more to be said upon the
■object of earldoms." "Tiiat may be," observed Don Quijote;
" but I am guided by the numerous examples offered on this Bubject
by knights of my own profession; who, in compensation for the
loyal and signal services they had received from their squires, con-
ferred upon them extraordinary favours, makiog them absoluta
lords of cities and islands : indeed, there was one whose services
were so great, that he had the presumption to accept of ft king-
dom. But why should I say more, when before me u the bright
example of the great Amadts de Gaul, who made his squire knight
_f ..i. Tí:-.. T.i._jn g^,^lJr 1 „,jy^ therefore, without scruple of
' 01 Sancho Fanz& who is one of the best

., jnight-errant." With all tl

raving the canon «as no less amused than astonished.

The servants who went U> the inn for tlie sompter-mote had now
letnmed ; ani having spread a cwpet over the green grass, the party
seated themselves untter the shade of some trees, and there enjoyed
their repast, while the cattle luxuriated on the fresh pasture. As
they were tliua employed, they suddenly heard a noise and the Sdond
of a little bell from a thicket near them ; at the same instant a
beautiful she^at, speckled with black, white, and grev, ran out of
the thicket, followed by a goatherd, calling to her aloud, in the
nsoal langoage^ to stop and come back to the fold, lie fugitive
animal, trembling and a&ighted, ran to the company, claiming, as
it were, their protection ; but the goatherd pursued her, and seuins
her by the horns, addressed her as a rational creature, " Ah, wanton,
tüotted thing I bow hast tlion strayed of latej What wolves have
frightened thee, child F Wilt thoa tell me, pretty one, what thia
means P But what else can can it mean, but that thon art a female,
■nd therefore canst not be quiet ! A plague on thy bumonrs, and all
títein whom thon resembkall INiniback, m; love, torn backj for

A.OOgIC

tbonfh not eontent, at kftst thou wilt be more tale in thine c

¿t tbe same time ixe offered him the hiiidd

, a cold rabbit on the point of a fork. I'he Koatherd thanked

liini, and accepted his offer, eiid bebg then in a better temper, he
aaid, " Do not think me a fool, gentlemen, for talking no sehouslj to
this animal: for, in truth, my vorda were uotvrithout a meaning ;
and thoagh I am a rustic, I know the difference between coaveninff
with men and beasts." I donbt it not," said the priest ; "izideea.
it it well known that the moontaina breed learned men, and ihe hots
of shepherds contain philosophers." "At least, sir," rephed the
goatherd, "they oontam men who have some knowledge yarned from
expetience ; and if I shall not be intruding, I will tell a aroamttanoa
whioh oonums it."

" Since this affair," (aid Don Quixote, " bears somewhat the sem-
blance of^an adventure, for my own part, friend, I shall listen to yon
most willingly : I can answer also for these gentlemen, who arc per-
sons of sense, and will relish the curious, tbe entertaining, and the
marvellous, whii^ I doubt not, your etorr contains : I entreat yon,
friend, to begin it immediatelr," " I shall take myself away to the
aide of yonder brook," said Sancho, "with this pasty, of which I
mean to lay in enough to last three days at least : for I have heard
my master, DonQuiiot«, say that the squire.of a knight-errant should
eat when be can, and as long ss be can, because he may lose his way
for six days together m a wood; and then, if a man bas not his belly
well lined or his wallet well provided, there he may stay till he is turned
intoamumray." "Thou art in the right, Sancho," said Don Quixote j
" go irtiere thou wilt, andeatwhattiioncauat; my appetite is already
satisfled, and my mind only needs refreshment, wniim the tale of this
good man will doobtless afford." The goatherd bemg nov requested
by the others of the company to begin his tale^ be patted his goat,
wluch he BtiU held by the uorns^ saying; " Lie thee down br me.
speckled foolj for we shall have time enongb to return to our fold.
The goat seemed to noderstand him ; for as soon as her master was
seated, she laid henelf qnietly down by him, and, looking up into his
fine, seemed to listen to díí at<wy, whioh he began as follows :—

iiaub, Google

CHAPTER U.

Til gooAtrd"! namttin.

" Thbxx leagues from this valle; there is a town which, thovgk
■msll, isoneof tberiehest in these lúurtsi sud «nang its iuhabitanta
was a farmer of such an eioellent cnaraoter that, thouiii riches geno-
rail; géa eíteera, he was mote respected for his good qualities than
for h^ wealth ; and Mb happiness was complete in possessing a
dauriiter of eitraordinaiy beauty, discrdioii. Mid Tirtno. When a
child, she was lovely, but at the age of skt«en she was perfeotly
beautiful, and her fame extended over all the neighbouring villages—
villages, do 1 saj' f — it spread itself to the remotest dties, even into
tbe palaces of kii^ I People came from ererr part to see her, at
some relic or wouaer-working image. Her fattier goarded her and
she guarded herself: for no padlocks, bolts, or bars, secure a maiden
so well as her own reserve. The wealth of the &ther, and the beauty
of the daughter, induced man; to seek her hand, insomnoh that he
whose right it was to dispose of so preeioni a jewel was perplesei^
and knew not whom to select among her importunate suitors. I waa
one of the nnmber, and had indulged fond hopes of success, being
known to her father, bora in the same viliage, untainted in blood, in
the flower of my age, licb, and of no mean understaudmg. Another
of our villafe, of eqaal pretensions with myself, solicited her also:
and her fattier being equally satisfied with both of us, was perplexed
vhich to prefer, and therefore determined to leave tiie choice to
Leandra herself— for so the maiden is called: an example worthy the
imitation of nil parents, I do not say tbev should give them their
choice of wliat is improper ; but they should propose to them what is

C, and leave them to aclect tbenoe acoordiiw to their taste. I
r not which of us Leandra preferred ; this onlr I know, that her
father put us both off by pleading the tender ueol his daughter, and
with snch general expressions as neither bountfhimself nor dlBobliged
ns. My rival's mune is Anselmo, mine Eugenio ; for yon ought to
know tiie names of the persona concerned in this tragedy, the catas-
trophe of which, though still suspended, will surely be disastfous.

About that timetberecame to our village one Vincent delaRosL
son of a poor farmer in the same pUcc. This Vincent had retnmea
from Italy and other countries, where he had served in the wars,
having been carried away &om our town at twelve ;ear? of age, by a
captam who happened to march that way with his company; and
now, at the end of twelve yean more, he came back in a soldier's
garb, bedizened with a variety of CDlours, and covered with a thousand
frinkets and glittering chains. To^y he put on one piece of finely,
to-roonovr another: but all slight wid oounterfelt, of little or no
«lue. The country-folks (who are naturally envions, and if they
chance to have leisure, are malice itself) observed and reckoned up

IBS GOJlIHIKD'S SABUUn. M7

those be disgnúed in so many diSeient mja, mi wHli M mnoh con-
trivance, that hod the ' ' ' ' " hkTe sworn that
he had above ten aoib s. Do Dot look
upon this descriptiOD iperfluouii, í<a it
is an imporUnt put o nuelf <« a stone
bench, under a great e, and there he
wonld hold as all gap of his exploits.
There vas no countr id not seei^ nor
battle in whioh he had sin more Mocara
than are in Morococ single combata,
•ocording to liia owa Siego Garcia de
Paredes, and a thoma >ys oame off vio-
torions, and without a same time ha
wonld show \is marks j were not to be
disoemcd, he assnred received in dif-
ferent actions. With i thee and thou
his equals and acqoaii was bis father,

his deeds bis pedigre^ soldier he owed

tiie king himself nothing. In addition to this boasting, he pretended
to be somewhat of a musician, and scratched a little apon tne guitar,
whioh some people admired. Bat his accomplishments did not end
bere ; for be was likewise something of a poet, and would oompose a
ballad, a league and a half in length, on every trifling incident that
hwj^ed in the village.

flow this soldier whom I have described, this Vincent de la Bos^ ■
this hero, this gallant, this musician, this poet, was often seen and
admired by Leandro, from a window of her house, which faced the
market-place. She was stmck with the tinsel of his gaudy apparel;
bis ballads enchanted her; for he gave at least twenty copies about,
of all he composed. The exploits he related of himself reached her
ears — in short, as the devil would have it, she fell downri^^lit in love
with liim, before he had entertained the presumption of courting her.
In short, as in affairs of iove none are so easily accomplished as those
which are favoured by tlie inclination of the lady, Leandra and Vin-
cent soon CAme to a mutual understanding, and before any of her
numerous suitors had the least suspicion of her design, s)ie liad already
accomplished it. and left the house of lier affectionate father (she had
no mother), and quitted the town with the soldier, who came off in
this enterprise more triumphantly thwi in any of those of which hi

0 arrogantly boasted. This event excited great astonisliment
. ..Imo aud I were utterly confouniled, her father iricved, her
Idndied ashamed, justice alarmed, and the troopers of the holy bro-

tiierhood in full activity. They beset the highways, and searched the
woods. leaving no phúe unexplored; and at the end of three days
they found the poor giddy Leandra in the cave of a mouDtoin,
■tnpped of all her clothes, and the money and jewels which she had
carried away from home. ,They brought her back to her disconsolate
father: ana being questioned, she freely confessed that Vincent
de la Kosa hod oeceived her, and upon pronuse of matriage had
persuaded her to leave her father's house, telling her he would
carrv her to Naples, the richest and most delicious city in the whole
wwld. The imprudent and credulous girl said, that hiving believed
bim, she bad roobed her father, and given the whole to mm on the
night of her elopement: aod that he had carried her among the
,, .A.OOgIC

Txm qinxon.

her father was much coinforted vith the idea that ¿tit had not sostaJiMd
tat irreparable loss.

"The same da; thai Leandra retomed, she di»ppeared from one
e;ea, as her father placed her in the moniisterT ot a Deighbonring
town, in hopes that time might efface the bleniisn which lier repntv
tion had sutFered. Her teiiaer jeata were some eicuse for her&ult,
especially with those who were mdifferent as to whether she was good
or bad, but those who know how much sense and understanding she
possesses could onl^ ascribe her fault to lent;, and the foibles nature
to womankind. Vi lien Leaudra was ffone, Anselmo and myself were
blind to eTerything— at least no object could give us pleasure. Wo
cursed the soldiers finery, and reprobated her father's wont of vin.
lance ; nor had time any effect in diminishing our regret. At lengui,
we agreed to quit the town, and retire to this valle}', where we pasa
onr uves, tending our Bocia, and indulffing our paísion hj praiaesL
lamentations, or reproaches, and sometimes in solitary siglis and
groans. Our example has been followed by many other admirers of
Leandra, who have loinedns in the same employment : indeed, weara
80 numerous, that this place seems converted into the pastoral Area-
dia; nor is there a part of it where the name of our beautiful mistreea
is not heard. One otters execrations against her, caJling her fond,
■ fickle, and immodest ; another condemns her forwardness and levity :
some excuse and pardon her; others arraign and condemn ber: one
praises her beauty, another rails at her dispositiun : in truth, ail
blame, andoU adore her — nay, such is the general frenzy, that some com*

Elain of her disdain who never had spoken to her, and some chereare who
emoan theniaelves and affect to feel the raging disease of jealousy,
though, as I have said before, her fault was Known before her inclinv
tions were suspected. There is no hollow of a rock, nor margin of »
rivulet, nor shade of a tree, that is not occupied by some shepherd,
lamentmg to the winds. Wherever there is an echo, it is continually
heard repeating the name of Leaudra; tlie mountains resound Lean-
dra ; the brooks murmur Lenndra ; in short, Leandra holds us all in a
state of delirium and enchantment, hoping without hope, .tnd dread-
ing we know not what. He who shows the least, though he has the
most sense, among ua madiueo, is my rival Ansebno, for ne complains
only of absence ; and to the sound of a rebec, which he touches to
admiration, pours forth his complaint in verses of wonderful ingenuity.
I follow a better course; and inveigh against the levity of women,
their inconstancy, and double-dealine, their vain promises, and brok^
^th, their absurd and misplaced affections.

" This, gentlemen, gave rise to the expressions I naed to the goat j
for being a female, I despise her, thoughaheis thebestof aUmyllaok.
I have now finished my story, which Ifear you have thought t«dio(u¡

bntl shall be glad tc — ' -"- '- '■ ' "—

which is near, and v
abnndanoe of fruit."

UignieUb, Google

CHiPTEE Ln.

QJ li« guarní httaee» Hon (iuixaU atid tht goatherd; «dJl Ae ran
<4f>(Mun 4^ tlu áádpliAOKtt, nskick ht tappiti/ occompliAtd wM
(lU MMOl qf hit brow.

liOOKiHO and speaking, as he did, more like a f^entleman and a
scholar than an unpolished goatlierd, Eugenie's tale amused all his
auditors ; especially the canon, who was struck by his manner of tell-
ing it ; and he was convinced that the prieat 'xaa perfectl}' right when
he affirmed that men of letters were often produced among; mountains.
They all offered their services to Engemo ; bnt the most liberal in bia
offers was Don Quiiote, who said to him, " In truth, brother goat-
herd, were I in a situation to undertake any new adventure. I would
immediatel; engafe myaelf iu your service, and release your lady from
the nunnery in spite of the abbess and all oppoaers, then deliver her
into yonr hands, to be disposed of at your pleasure, so far as is con-
■islent with the laws of chivalry, which eqjoin that no kind of out-
raf^ be offered to damsels. I trust, however, in heaven, that the
power of one malicious enchanter shall not l>e so prevalent over
another but that a hetler disposed one may triumph : and then
I promise you my aid and protection, accordiag to toe duty of
my profession, which is so other than to favour the weak and
jiecesaitous."

The goatherd stared at Don Quiiofc, and observmg liis sad ptig:ht
and scurvy appearance, he whisiiered f o ihc barber, who sat nei t to him.
"Pray, sir, who is that man that looks and talks so strangely P"
"Who should he be," answered the barber, "but the famous Don
Quixote de laManeha, the redresser of injuries, the righfer of wrongs,
the protector of maidens, the dread of giants, and tne conqueror of
battles?" "Why, this is like what we hear in the stories of knight»-
errant," said the goatherd ; " but I take it either your worship is in
jest, or the apartments in this gentlemen's skull are unfurnished."

You are a very great rascal," exclaimed the knight ; " it is yourself
who are empty-skulled and sbaBow-braincd-, for mine is fuller than
was ever the head of any of your vile generation!" and as he spoke,
he snatched xrp a loaf and threw it at the goatherd's face with so mach
iarj that he laid his nose flat. The goallierd did not much relish the
jest ; 90 without any respect to the table-cloth or to tl)e company pre-
sent, he leaped npon Don Quixote, and seizing him by the throat with
both hands, would doubtless have stranglea him, nad not Sancho
Panza, wbo came up at that moment, taken him by the shoulders and
thrown him back on the table-cloch, demohsliing dishes and pkttera,
and spilling and overturning all that was upon it. Don Quixote find-
ing himself free, turned upon the goatherd, who, being Kicked and
trampled npon by Sancho, «as feelii^ about, upon all-fours, fur some
knife or weapon to lake a bloody revenge witbal : but the canon and

A.OOgIC

buffeted so immeioifiillf that be bad ample retaliation
Boflbrings.

This hidicroQS enoounter OTCrcame the mmt7 of both the church-
men, vhile the troopers of the half brotherhood, eiijofiiig the
conflict, stood QTging on the combataeta, as if it had been a dog-
fight. Sancho stnugled in taia to release himself fivm one of the
canon's servants, who prevented bim from going to assist bis mastar
In the midst of this sport a trumpet was suddenlv heard sounding m
diamall; that every face was instantly turned in tlie direction whence
the sound proceeded. Don Quixote's attention was particulul;
excited, thoogh he atill laj under the gtiatherd in a bruised and bat-
tered condition. "Tbon devil," he said io bim, "for a devil tbon
must be to have anch power over me, I beg that tbon wilt grant a
trace for one hour, as the solemn sound of that tnunpet seems to
coll me to some new adventure." Tbe goatherd, waose rerenge
was br this time sated, immediatelj let him go, and Don Quiiota,
having got upon his legs again, presently saw several people deaoend-
ing from B rising gninnd, anayed in white, after the manncc oí
discipliaants*

That year th

sonable showe„, „ ^ . ..^ ,.

sions, disciplines, and public prayers were ordered, beseeching Heaven
to show its mercy by sending them rain. For this purpose the
people of a neighbouring village were coming in procession to a bol^
hermitage built uoon the side oí a hill not fax from that spot. The
strange attire of uie disciplinsnts struck Don Quixote, who, not recol-
lecting what he must often have seen before, imagined it to be soma
adventure which, as a knight-errant, was reserved for him alone ; and
he was conñrmcd in his opinion on seeing an image clothed in black,
tjiat they carried with them, and which he doubted not, was some
illustrious lady forcibly borne away bv ruffians and miscreants. With
all the expedition in his power, he tnerefore went ap to Roiinaote,
and taking the bridle and buckler from the pommel of the saddle, he
bridled him in a trice, and calling to Sancho for his aword, he mounted,
braced his target, and in a loud" voice said to all that were present :
"Now, my worthy «ompaoions, ye shall see how important to the
woiid IS the profession of chivalry ! now shall ye see, in the restoration
of that captive lady to liberty, whether knights-errant are to be valued
or not I"

So Sluing, he dapped heels to TUumanie (foe spurs he had noneX
and on a hand-gallop (for we nowhere read, in all this faithful his-
toi7, that KoEinante ever went full speed), he advanced to encow-
tet the diaciplinants. The priest, the canon, and the barber, in vain
endeavoured to stop him ; and in vain did Sancho cry out, " Whither

Syou, Signor Don Quixote f What devils drive you to assault the
tholic faith ? Evil befa] me ! do hut look— it is a procession of dis-
ciplinants, and the lady carried upon tbe bier is the blessed image oí
our Holy Virgin : take heed, for this once I am sore you know not

TBS KNIOHT ¿ruCXS TRI SUCITLIlI&KTfl. 971

«bat Ton aie «boot." Sancho vetriedhiimelf to no pateóse; forhú
M&itaivu M) bent upon an cnconnter, that be heanl not airord: nw
would be have tnmed back though the Ifnig himaftlf had oomiDanded

UsTÍiig TtBcbed the proceMÍon^ he
Taated to rest a little, and in a hoai
" Stop there, ye who cover mm faeci
—flop and bit«n to me." The bean
<me in the four eccletiutio», wbo s
■tnnfi» figore of Don Qaixot«, the Ic
Indicnms circnnutances attending tl
jxm haw anything to m; to tu, aay il
are scaarging then fleah, and we ca»
mvf not be said in two words." " 1
Qnnote : " jon mnst immediately lel
and Bonowml conntenance clearly i^

agamat her will, and that you have done her nine atrocioos injory.
1, who was born to redress anch wionn, oommand yon, therefore, not
to proceed one step farther nntil yon uare ^en hn tb« liberty ihe
demea and deaeiTefi." By these exjvessioiu tbev omoladed that
Don Qoiiote most be some whimsical madman, and only landed at
him, which enraged him to such a deoiee that, without saying another
VOTO, be drew his sword and attacked the bewers : one of whom
kaving the burden to hia oomiadea, stepped forward, oraadisbing the
pole on whidi the bier had been supported- bntitwasquicklybrokea
m two by a powerfnl stroke, umed by tne knight, who, however,
leoeÍTed mstaittly such a blow on the abonlder of his swonl.Brm that,
his bnckler being of no avail uMDst Tnstic stiength, he was felled to
the groand. Sancho, who had followed him, now wUed oat to the man
not to strike again, for he was a poor enchanted knight, who bad never
done anybody harm in all his bte. The peasant forbore, it is true,
thmigh not on acconnt of Saoobo's appeal, but beoanse he saw his
opponent withont motioD; lod, thinking he had killed him, he
hastily tucked up his Test under hb giidJe, and fled like » deer ova
the field.

By this time all Don Quixote's party bad oome up ; and those in
the procession, seeing amt»^ them troráers erf the ho^ brotherhood,
armed with their otoss-bows, befBu to oe alarmed, and drew up in a
cirde round the image: then lifting up their hoods,* and grasping
their whips, and the eedesiastics then t^rs, they waited the assault
determined to defend themselves, or, if possibly ofl'end their a^res-
SOTS, while Sancho threw himself npon the body of hia master, and
bdiering ti™ to be really dead, ponred forth the moat dolorons
lamoitation. The alarm of both sqnadrons was sppcdily dissipated,
as our CDiate was recognized by one of the tecciesiastics in the pro-
OBBsion : and, on hearinR from him who Don Quixote was, they all
hastened to see whether the poor knight bad re^ly suffered a mortal
Bqury or not ; when they heard Sancho Pania with streaming ayes
exciami : " O flower of chivaky, who by one sinale stroke bast finished
the career of thy well-spent life I O glory of thy race, credit and

■dplinanti i
le Uinnigh.

ir hood^ that (hoy may not be known, but (rUab

renown of Xa Mancha, ^ea, of the whole world, which, by wanting
thee, will be overmo with enl-doers, who will no longer fear t^tas-
tJaement for their iníqiuties 1 0 liber&l abore all jUexandere, since
for eight months' servioe only thoa baat given me the best island
that sea doth compass or Eiimnmd ! 0 thou that wmt homble with
the haughty, and arrogant with the humble, undertaker of dangers,
sufferer of af&onts, in lore without cause, imitator of the good,
somirge of the wicked, enemv of the base ; in a word, knight^rrant—
which ¡a all in all." Sancho s cries roused Don Qniiote, who hiutij
said, " He who lives absent from thee, sweetest Dulcinea, endorM
far greater miseries than thia I— Help, friend Sancho, to place tne
npoQ the enchanted oar : I am no longer in a condition to presa the
saddleofEoiinant«, for this shoulder IS broken to pieces." "That I
will do with all W.J heart, dear air," answered Sancho ; " and let ns
return to onr homes with these gwitlemen, who wish you well;
and there we can prepare for another saJly, Ibat mav turn ont more
profitable." "Thou sayeat well, Sancho," answered Don Quiiote,

'and it will be highly prudent in us to wait until the evil infiuenoe of
the star which now reigns is passed over." The canon, the priest,
and tiie barber, told him they approved his resolution: and tJie
knight being now placed in the waggon, as before, they prepared
to depart.

The goatherd took his leave : and the troopers, not being disposed
to attend them farther, were oisohuged. The canon also separated
from them, having ñrsi obtained a promise from the priest that he
would acquaint him with the future fate of Don Quiiote. Thna the
party now consisted only of the priest, the barber. Don Qaiiote, and
Sancho, with good Rozmante, «ho bore all accidents as patiently as
his master. The wogtconer yoked his oxen, and, having accommo-
dated Don Quiiote witli a truss of hay, they jof^fed on in the w^
the priest directed ; and at the end of six davs reached Don Quixote's
village. It was ^Kiut noon when they made their entrance; and, it
beii^ Sunday, all the people were standing about the market-plaoe,
through which the waggon passed. Everybody ran to see who was
in it, and were not a Bttle auiprised when they recognized their
townsman ; and a boy ran off at mil speed with tidings to the boose-
keeper, that he was coming home, lean and pale, stretched out at
length in a waggon drawn by oxen. On bearing this, the two Kood
women made tne most patucCio lamentations, and renewed tneir
curses against books of chivalry; especially when they saw the poor
knight entering the gate.

Upon the news of Don Quixote's arrival, Sancho Panza'n wife
repaired thither, and on meeting him, her first inquiry was whether
the ass bad come home well. Suicho told her that he was in a bett«r
condition than his master. "The lord be praised," replied she, "for
M great a mercy to me 1 But tell me, husband, what good have yoa
got by yonr squireship ? Have yon brought a petticoat home for m^
And shoes for vonr children F" " I have Drought you nothing of thai
•ort, dear wife," quoth Sancho; "but I have aot other things of
irreator consequence." "lam very glad of that,' answered the wif^

pray show me your tbinga of greater eonwmuenoe, friend; for I
would fain see them, to gladden my heut which has been so sad, all
the long time you have been away." " Yoa shall see them at home.

wife," qQotli Sancho, "and be satisSed nt present; for if it olease
God titit we make uiother sail; in quest of ádventures, ;ou will soon
see me an earl of governor or an island, and no common one either,
W one of the best that is to be had." " Grant heaven it maj be so,
hosb*iui,"quoth the wife, "for we have need enough of it. £atprar
lell me what jou mean bj islands ; for I do not understand fou.
" Honey i» not for the mouth of an asg," answered Sandio : " in good
time, wife, f ou sliall sea, yea, and admire to hear yourself styled lady-
ship by ail your vassals. " Wliat do you mean, Sancho, by htdysliip,
itluuls, and vassals ? " answered Teresa Panza, for that was the namfl
of Sancho's wif^ though they were not of iin, but because it was the
enstomofXAUanetiaior the wife to take the husband's name. "Do
n«t be in so moeh baste, Teresa," said Sancho ; it is enough that 1
toll you what is true, so lock up vour mouth ; — only take this by the
way, that there is nothing in tne world so pleasant as to be an
honoorable esquire to a kmglit-errant, and seeker of adventures. To
be sure most of them are not so much to a nun's mind as be eould
wish ; for, as I know by experience, mnety-nine out of a hundred taH
li and unlucky ; especially when one happens to be tossed in

a blanket, or well cudgelled ; vet, for all that, it is a Sne thing' tc
abfHit in expectation of acciaeote, traversing mountaios, searching
rching over rocks, visiting castles, lodging in iims, alln

pleasiue, and the devil a farthing t( . ,

'Whüe this discourse was passing between Saacho Pania and hia
wife Teresa, tbe housekeeper and the niece received Don Quixote,
and, after undieasing him, they laid him in his old bed, whence he
looked at them with eyes aakauct not knowing perfectly where he
was. Often did the women raise their voices in abuse of all books of
cliivaliy, overwhelming their authors with the bitterest maledictions.
His niece was chained by tbe priest to take great care of hi
' ' ' ' ' " that hr '-' --' ----- — ■— "■-'- -

^ ^ J) get i

heuaons lest they shoiUdlose him again k
Uttle better; and ii ' ^"

But the author of this bistory, thoogh he applied himself with
the utmost curiosity and diligence to trace the exploits which
Don Quixote perfonned in his third sally, could get no account of
them, at least from any authentic writmgs: fame has only left a
tradition in La Mancha that Don Quixote, the third time he sallied
from home, went to Saiagossa, and was present at a famous touma-
m^it in that city, where he performed deeds worthy of himself. Nor
would he have learned anything concerning his death, had be not
fortunately beoomo acquainted with an ^ed physician, who bad in his
custody a leaden box, found, as he said, under the ruins oían ancient
hermitage ; in which box was discovured a manuscript, written on
parchment, in Gothic characters, but in Castiliaa verse, containing
many of bis exploits, and de^cribingthe beauty of DiUcineadel Toboso,
the form of Rocinante, tbe fldebty of Sancho Pania, and the burial uf
Don Quixote himself, with sevend epitaphs and eulogies on his life
and habits. All that could be read, and perfectly made out, ore here
jnaerted by tbe faithful author of this most extraordinary history, who
desires no other recompense for the vast labour he has bestowed in
tfyiitiins into ÚiB uchivea of La Maiuha, than that this work may
,, ..A.OOgIC

a74 BOK qmxoTE.

find eqnsl favour \tilh otUer books of knight -«rrantry: mih this he
wili ht quite aalisfied, aod moreover encouraged to seek after others,
that may be quite as entertaining, though not so true. Ihe first
stiinzas written on the parohmeut whicfi waa found m the leaden
boi, were the following ;—

OP DON 4aU0TE.

EPITAPH.

HsnchA'B tbunderlMlt ot war,

Ths Bba>rpeBt wit and lo^iest mute.
The arm which Ccm GaEIa far

To Cttttu did its force dilfii™ ;
Ho who, through lova and valour's fire,

Outstript gr«at AiDBdis's fame,
Eid warlike Unlaor retira.

And Bilenced Belianis' niune :
He who, with helmet, «word, and shield,

On Rocinante, steed wall known,
Advenlnrea fought In many n field.

Lie* Dndamealh thi^ inaea ituns.

Wwei

liiir Dulcinea, ofT
Tor her, ortn'd cap-^-pío with sword and shield.

He trod the «able mountflin o'er nnd o'er ;
7or her be tnivora'd Mnntiel'i well-known field.

And in her sarrice toils unniunber'd bore.
Hard fate ! that death should crop so fine a fiower I
And love o'er such a knight e>:ert bia tyniot power I

INGENIOCB AraIIEM1CIA!< OF AROAHASILLl, IH PRAISI

OF DO

N qCIIOTB'S HOH&E I

iuí:nj

lste.

BONNET.

On the aap
tautio with

Hng adamantine tnmt
0, whoso root, with slanghter drunk,
, scent of wiir. La Miinchu'a knight,
vtiloui. and return 'd liuni fi^bt.

A.OOi^lc

Hit bloody ahitidard trembliD^ in the air,

Hangs itp his glitMrinc anuoiir bciuQini^ tar.

With Cbat fina-tampor d steel whoso odgo o'erthrowa

U Amadis to Ureeia givBB njnown,
Much mors her chief duoa fieros B«UuDa crown.
PrÍEÍni^ Lft M&ncba more than Gaul or Qrceco,

ObliviüD nc'or shall ahroud Ma glDrioos nuoe,
Whose very borsa stands up to challenjte lum^
Illuatnous RoiiuDJite, woad'roQs etoedl

matUeil speed.

PolloBing his lord from placo tO place.
To be an earl he did nspire.
And reason good for such deaíre,
But worth, in these ungisiatul times.
To envied honour seldom citmb».
Vain mortnls ! ((i™ Jour wishe» o'er.
And trast the tlatterer ilopu no mure.
Whose promises, wbiitt'er they seem,
End in a ibadow or & dream.

CAcanatwa, acueiocun oí irsauabilu, on ths befdltcu o>
EPITAPH,

Here tiaa an ovil-ertaat knifcht.
Well bruised in m.iuy a fmv.

Whoso courser. Iluminante hiylit.
Long boro him auuiy a wíxy.

Close hv bis lorinj? numtor's side

Lica booby Sancbo Paiiz^i,
A trusty squire of coumge towl,

. I, Google

DOM QUnOTB.

TIQCITOC, ACADEHICUH Of ABOAlUStLLA, OK THE SEFULTCBB 0

Of goodly nrentAge alie came.
And nad the la^ in ber ¡

8ba «BB the srent Don Quiiote'i Same,
But onlf death could «in her.

Theae vere aU the Terses that were leíble : the remAJuder, being
mnch defaced and worm-eaten, were put into the bonds of one of the
Academicians, tliat be might discover their meanin); b^ conjectare ;
which, ftfter much thouRht and labour, we are informed he hasactuallr
done, nod that he intends to publisb them, in the hope of Dt»
Quixote's third sallp.

" Fone altro coAtor^ oon mi^lior plectro-'*

UignieUb, Google

PREFACE TO PART II.

VzMLT, reader, gentle m ample— wlmterer thon art, with what
fanpatienee must tboa now be wuting for this Preface 1 — doubtless
prepared to find it full oí resentment, railing, and inTectiro against
the aothor of the second Don Quixote— Lim I mean who, the world
•afs, was begotten in Dordesülas and bom in Tarragona, fiat in
truth, it is not my intention to give thee that satisfaotion ; for, though
injniies are apt to awaken aholer in the liumblest breas^ yet in mioe
tUa nde most admit of an eioeplioa. Perhaps thon wonldst liave me
' n, and coxoomb ; bnt no :— be his own foil; hii

Here ii one thii^, towerer, wWch I cannot pass otop in silence.
I am gtiilty, it seems, of being old ; and it is also proved upon me
that I have lost mj hand I as if I bad the power to arrest the progress
of time ; and tbat this maim was the effect of some tavern brawl, and
not received on the noblest occasion* tbat past or present times have
witnessed, or the fotore can ever hope to see ! If m; wounds be
disregarded by those who simply look on them, thej wul be liononred
hf those who know how they were gained; fw a soldier makes a
nobler figare dead, in tiie field of battle, than aliv^ Sjiog from hia
enemy; and so firmly fixed am I in this opinion that^coidd the impcs-
sibUty be overeóme, and I had the power t{) choose, I would rathex
be again present in that stupendons action than whole and sonnd,
without sharing in its glory. The scan on the front of a brave
soldier are stars that direct others to the haven of honour, and create
in them a noble emulation. Let it be remembered, too, that books
are not composed by the hand, but by the ondentanding, which is
ripened by experience and length of years.

I have also heard that this anthor oalls me envious ; and, moreover,
in consideration of my ignoiance, kindly describes to me what envy
is !~In tmlh, the only envy of which I am conscious is a noble, vir-
tuous, and holy emulaticm, which would never dispose me to inveigh

* Th* fiunoDi Ha-fii^t of Lepaoto.

A.OOgIC

878 PRETACÍ ÍO TAKT II.

against an ecclesiastic ; especially, against one who holds a dignified
rank in the Inquisition ; and if lie has been influenced bj his zeal for
the person* to whom he seems to allude, be is utterly mistaken in
my sentiments ; fot I revere that geotleman's genins, and admire his
works, and his virtnous aclivity. KcTertheless, I cannot refose my
acknowledgment to this worth; author, for his commeulatioD of my
novels, which, he says, are good, although more satirical than moral ;
but how thej happen to be good, yet deficient in morality, it would
be difficult t« show.

Mcthinks, reader, thou wilt confess that I proceed with much for-
bearance and modesty, from a feeling that we should not add to the
sofferings of the affiicted ; and that this gentleman's caee mort ba
lamentable, is evident from his not daring to appear in open day:
ooneealing his name and his country, as if some treason or othe>
crime were upon his conscience. Snt sliooldst thon by chance hU
into bis company, teU him, from me, that I do not think myaelf
■Kgriered ; for I well know what the temptations of the devil tat,
and that one of the greatest is the persuading a man that he can
write a book by which he will surely gain both wealth and fame; and,
to illustrate the truth of this, pray tell bim, in thy pleasant way, the
following story ^—

"A madman once, in Seville, was seized with as whimsical a conceit
as eror entered into a madman's brain. He provided himself with a
tx^low cane, pointed at one end, and whenever be met with a dog in
the street or elsewhere, he laid hold of him, set his foot <m one of hia
hinder lega, and seizing the other in his hand, dexterously applied the
pointed end of the cane to the dog's posteriors, and blew him op >■
round as a ball; then giving his inflated body a slap or two with the
palm of his hand, be let him go, saying to the bystanders, who were
always numerous, 'Welt, gentlemen, I suppose you think it an euj
inatt«rto blownpad<%F' And you, sir, pe^pa, may think it an
easy matter to writ« a book." If this story diould not h^ipen to hit
his fancy, pray, kind reader, tell bim this other, which b Hkewiae of a
madma& tmd a dc^ ¡-^

" In the city of Cordoro lived another nüanjao, whose onstom w»
to walk about the streets with a large stone upon bis bead, of no
inconsiderable weight; and wherever he met with anycardeaa oar,
he edged sKly towards him, and when quite close, let the stone fall
plump upon his body; whereupon the dog, in great wrath, limped
away, barking and howlmg, for more than three streets' length,
witbont onoe kN^ing behind him. Now it happened, that aaHOg

* LopatUTag».

FBETACE TO PABT n. 279

other do^, be net with one that belonged to a cap-maker, M'ho
Tfthiid him mightily ; down went the stone, and hit hiia exactly on
the head ; the poor animal cried out ; his master, seeing the act, waa
CDragEct, and, catching np his meaanrini^'yard, fell upon the ntadnian,
and left him with scarcely a vhole bone in his skin ; at every blow
Tenting hie furj in reproaches, saying, ' Dog ! rogue ! rsEcal I What !
maltreat mj dos 1— a apaniel ! Did you not see, barbarian ! that my
doe was a spaniel?' and after repeating- the word 'spaniel' very often,
he dismissed the culprit, beaten to a jolly. The madman took his
correction in silence, and walked qS; cor did he show himself again
in the market-phice till more than a month afterwards, when he
nrtaraed to his former amusement, with a still greater stone upon his
head. It was obserred, however, thai on coming up to a dog, he first
carefully snrreycd it from head to tail, and not daring to let the stone
fall, he said, "Ware spaniel !— this won't do.' In short, whatever
dog he met with— terrier, mastiff, or hound— they were all spaniels;
and so great was his dread of committing another mistake, that be
never ventured to let fall his slab again." Thus warned, perhaps,
our historian may think it necessary, before he again leta &11 the
ponderóos wei^t of his wit, to look and examine where it is likely to

Tell him also, that as to his threatening, by his counterfeit wares,
to deprive me of my expected gtun, I value it not a rush, and will
only answer him from the famous interlude of Forendcnga — " Long
live roy lord and master, and Heaven be with ns all ! Long live the
great Comit de Lemos; whose well-known liberality supports me
under all the strokes of adverse fortone ; and all honour and praise
to the eminent bounty of his grace the archbishop of Toledo, Bernardo
de Sandoval! and let them write against me as many books as there
are letters in the rhymes of Mingo Rebutgo. These tvo nobles,
nntonght by adulation on my part, but merely of their own goodness,
have taken upon them to patronise and favour me; vherefore I
esteem myself happier and richer than if fortune, by her ordinal;
means, had placed me on her highest pinnacle. Such honour the i
mnitorions, not the vicious, may aspire to, although oppressed by
poverty. The noble mind may be clouded by adversity, but cannot
be wholly concealed : for true merit shines by a light of its own, and,,
Simmering through the rents and crannies of indigence, is perceive^
respected, and honoured by the generous and the great."

More than this, reader, thou ueodst not say to him ; nor wiU 1 laj

more to thee, except merely observing, for thy information, that this

Second Fart of Don Quixote, here offered to thee, is cut by the same

band, and out of the same pisecv u the First Fart; and that herein

A.OOgIC

SoO PBXPA.CB TO PAXT n.

I present thee witti Don Quixote whole and entire : having placed
him in bia giare at full length, and fairlj dead, that do one mej pré-
same to expose bia to nev adventurea, since he has achieved enongh
airead;. It is sufficient that Lis ingenióos follies have been recorded
b; a writer of credit, vho has resolved to t«ke np the subject no
more ; for we maj be surfeited hr too mneh of what is good, and
Bcareit]r gives a relish to what is onl; indifferent.

I had fo^otten to tell the« that thou majst soon expect the Per-
silcs, whidi I have nearly complete, and also the second part of the
Galatea.

UignieUb, Google

SECOND PART.

Gn> Eaxbt Bekeiigeli lelstes, in the second part of this histotj,
containing the third sail; of Don Qaixote, that the priest nod the
barber refrained during a whole month from seeing him, lest the;
■houtd revive in his mind the remembrance of things past. However,
thef paid frequent visits to the niece and hoosekeeper, charging them
to take great care of him, aad to give him good nourishmg cLet, aa
that would be salutary to his heart and his brain, «hence all the mis-
chief proceeded. The good vomea assured them of their continual
care of tlie patient, and said thej occasionall; observed in liitn symp-
toms of returning reason. The priest and the barber were greatly
pleased to hear ttita, and congratulated themselves on the success oí
the scheme they had adopted of bringing bim home enchanted in the
ox-waggon, as it is related in the last chapter of the first part of this
noless great than accurate historv. They resolved, therefore, to visit
bim, ana make trial of his amenihnent : at the same time, thmking it
scarcely possible that his cnie could be complete, they a^eed not h>
tODch upon the rabject of knight-errantry, lest they nugbt open a
wonnd which ninst yet be so tender.

They found him sitting on his bed, clad in a waistcoat of green
baize, with a red Toledo cap on his head, and so lean and shrivelled
that he looked like a mummy. He received them with much polite-
ness, and when they ioqnired after his henlth, he answered them in a
very sensible manner, and with mnch elegance of expression. In the
conive of their conversation they touched upon matters of state and
forms of government, correcting this abuse and condemning that,
reforming ons coatoro and exploding another: each of the three '.
setting himself ap for s perfect legislator, a modem Lycargus, or a
■pick-and-span new Solon; and, by their joint eflbrts, they seemed to
have dapped the commonwealth into a forge, and h&nimered it into
qoite a new shape. Don Qniiote delivered himself with so mnch
good sense upon every subject thev had tonched upon, that the two
examiners were inclined to think teat he was now really in full pos-
■esüon of all hi» mental bcnlties. The niece and the housekeeper
, , . .A.OOgIC

SSS DON quixora.

were present at the conversation, and, hearing from their mosteT snoh

S roofs of a sound mind, ihougLt Ibey could never sufficiently thank
[eaveii. Tbe priest, changing his former purpose of not toucliing
upon matters of chivalry, was now resolved to put the question of
bis amendment fairi^ to the test: be therefore mentioned, among
other ihin;:3, some inlclligence lately brought from court, that the
Turk was advancii^ with a powerful fleet and that, his object beii^
unknown, it naa impossible to say where the storm would burst ; that
all Cbristcndom was in great alurm, and that tbe kinx had already
provided for the security of ffapies, Sicily, and the island of Malta.
To Ibis Don Quixote replied; "His majesty has acted with great
nrodence in proridmg in time for the defence of his dnmiujons, that
he may not be taken by surprise; but, if my counsel might be taken, I
would adrise him to a measure which, probably never yet entered into
his majesty's mind." On hearing this the priest said wiihin himself:
"Heaven defend tliee, poor Don Quiiote! for mclhinks Ibou art
about to fall from the summit of tliv madness into the depth of
foUy!" Tbe barber, nho iiad made the same reflection, now asked
Don Quixote what the measure was which he thought would be so
advantageous ; though, in all prolkibility, it was like the impertinent
advice usually given to princes. " Mine, Mr. Shaver," answered Don
Quiiote, " shall not be impertinent, but to the purpose," " I mean
no offence." replied the baruer, " only eiperienoe has shown that all,
or most of the projects so offered to his majestj; are either imprac-
ticable, absurd, or prejudicial to himself or hia lungdom." " Trne,"
answered Don Quiiote ; " but mine is neither impracticable aot
absurd ; but the most easy, the most just, and also trie most reaton-
able and expeditious, that ever entered the mind of a projector."
" Signor Don Quixote," quoth the priest, "you keep us loo long in
suspense," " I do not choose," repfied Don Quiioto, " that it should
be tohl here now, that another may carry it by daybreak to tbe lord)
of the privy-council, and thereby intercept the reward which is only
doe to me, "I give you my word," said the barber, "here and
before UeAven, that I will not reveal what yonr worship shall say,
either to king, or to look, or to any mortal man — an oath wbicb I
learned from the romance of the priest, where he sives the king infor-
mation of tbe thief that robbed him of the honiued pistóles and his
ambling mule." " I know not the history," said Don Quiiote ; " but
I presume the oath is a good one, becanse I am persuaded master
Wber is an honest man. *' Though he were not, said tbe priort^
" I will pledge myself for bim, ana engage, under any penalty mn
please, that he shall be as silent as the dumb on this afiau;." And
who will be bound for your reverence, maater priest?" said Don
Quixote. " My profession," answered the priest ; " which enjoins
Koresy as an indispensable duty." "Body of mel" cried Dcñ
Quixote ; *' has his majesty anytmng to do, bat Co issue a proclama-
tion ordering all the knights-errant, who are now wandering about
Spain, to repair, on an appointed day, to coart ? If not more than
half a doien came, there might be one of that number able, with hia
■ingle arm, to destroy the whole power of the Turk. Pray, gwitie-
men, be attentive, and lisl«n to me. Is it anything new for a single
knigbt-errant to defeat an army of two hundred thousand men, as if
they had all but one throat, or were made of pastry? How msny
cumples of such prove» does bistoiysnppljr If, in an erillu^

THE SABSEK's STOUT. 283

for me (I wül not soy for any other), the famous Don Beliiiiiis, or
aome one of the nnmeroua race of Amadis de Qaul, uerc in bciiijg
■t this day to confront the Turk, in good faith I would not farm his
wmnings 1 But tkid will protect hia people, and provide some one, if
not aa strong as the knigbta -errant oí old, at least not inferior to
them in courage. Heaven knows my meaning ; I sav nf. mnrp i "
"Alas!" eiclaimed the n* — -* "■■- -— '— ■ "

can raise — once more, 1 say, Heaven knows my meaoing." " Gentle-
men," said the barber, " give me leave to tell you a short story of
what happened once in Seville; for it comes so pat to the parase
that I cannot help giving it to yon." Don Quixote and the priest
BÍgnifled their consent, and the others being willing to hear, be began
tiiua:—

" A certain man bebg deranged in his intellects, was placed by his
relations in the mad-honse of Seville. He had taken his degrees in
Üie canon law at Ossuna ' bnt, had it been at Salamanca, many are of
Opinion he would, nevertheless, have been mad. This graduate, after
some years' confinement, took into his head that he was quite in hi>
right senses, and therefore \mjte to the archbishop, beseeching him,
with great earaeatneaa Mid apparentiv with much reason, that be
vronld be pleased to deliver him from tnat miserable state of confine-
ment in which he Uved; since, throuifh the mercy of Qod, he had
renined hia senses ; adding thai hia relations, in order to enjoy part
of his estate, kept him still tliere, and in spite of the dearest evidence,
would insist upon hia being mad as long as he lived. The archbishop,
prevailed upon by the many sensible epistles he received from him,
sent one of nis chaplains to the keeper of the mad.house to inquire
i^o the trutb of what the licentiate had alleged, and also to talk
with him, and if it appeared that he was in hia senses, to set him at
hliertv. The chaphun accordingly went to the rector, who assiired
him tnat the man was still insane, for though he sometimes talked
very sensibly, it waa seldom for any length of time without betraying
his deraiigement ; as he would certainly find on conversing with Dim.
Tbe chapudn determined to make the trial, and during the conversa-
tion of more than an hour, could perceive no symptom of incoherence
in his discourse : on the contrary, he spoke with so much sedateness
and judgment that the chaplain couli not entertain a doubt of the
Bsnity of his intellects. Amonjf other thinjfs he assured him that the
keeper waa bribed by his relations to persist in reuorting him to be
deranged ; so that his large estate was üis great misfortune, to enjoy
which his enemiea had recourse to fraud, and pretended to doubt df
the mercy of Heaven in restoring him from the condition of a bmt«
to that of a man. In short, he talked so planaibly that he made the
lector appear venal and corrupt, his relations unnatural, and himself
so discreet that the chaplain determined to take him immediately to
the archbishop, that he might be satisfled he had done right. With
tilia resolution the good chaplain desired the keeper of the house to
ROttnv to him the ctethes which he wore when he was first pat under
his care. The keeper again desired him to beware what he did, since
hs mi^t be aMOted that the licentiate was still insane; bnt the
ohaplam wa> not to be nurred atbst bj hia caotiona or enbestíesj

S84 DON «JUUOTE.

Mid as he acted b; order of the archbishop, the keeper was aoin<

pelled to ober bim. The licentiate put on bis new clothes, and now.
flnding himself rid of his lunatic attire, and habited like a rational
creature, he entreated the chaplain, for charit)''« sake, to pennii him
to take leave of his late compiinions in affictioQ. Being aesirous of
seeing: the lunatics who were confined in tliat honse, the chaplajn,
irith several other persons, followed bim apstairs, and heard him
accost a man who luy stretched in a cell, outraf eouslj; mad, though
just then composed and nuiet. 'Brother,' said he to him, 'hare jou
anf commands for me P for I am going to return to m? own house,
God having been pleased, of His infinite goodness and mercy, without
any desert of mine, to restore me to mv eeoses. I am now sound awl
well, for with God nothine is impossible : put yoor whole trust and
confidence in Him, and He will doubtksa restore you also. I will
Ulte care to send you some choice food ; and fail not to eat it : for I
Lave reason to believe, from ray own experience, that all our (Uslno-
tion proceeds from empty stomachs, ana brains filled with wmd. Take
hearty then, my friend, take heart ; for despondeacc under Diisfortime
impairs our health, and hastens our death/ This discouree was over-
heard by another madman, the tenant of an opposite cell, who, rising
from an old mat, whereon he had been lying ataik naked, asked who
it was that talked of going away restored to his senses. 'It is I,
brother, that am going,' answered the licentiate j ' for, thanks to
Heaven, my stay here is no longer neeessarv.* ' 'Take heed, friend,
what yoQ aay,' replied the maniac ; ' let not tne devil delude you : stir
not a foot, but keep wliero you are, and vou wilt Bpare yourself the
trouble of being brought back.' ' I know, answered the other, ' that
I am perfectly well, and sh^ have no more occasion to visit the
station churches.'" 'You well, truly F' said the madman; 'weshall
soon see that. Farewell ! but I swear by Jupiter, whose mtyesty I
represent on earth, that for this single oScncc of setting thee at larg^
and pronouncing thee to be in thy sound senses, 1 am determined t4)
indict such a signal punishment on this city, that the memory thereof
shall endure for ever and ever. And knowst thou not, pitiful fellow,
that 1 ba\ e the power to do it P 1, who am the thundermg Jove, ana
erasp in my hands the flaming bolts with which I might instantly
destroy the world!— but, remitting that punishment, 1 will chastise
their folly by closing the floodgates of heaven, so that no rain shall
fidl upon this city or the surrounding country for three years, reckon-
ing from this very day and hour on which my vengeance is denounced.
Tfou at liberty ! you recovered, and in your right senses ; and I here
a madman, distempered, and in bonds! — I will no more rain than I
will hang myself.' This rhapsody was heard by all present, and our
licentiattL turning to the cliaphun, 'My good sir,' said he, seixing
bolh his hands, ' regard not his foolish threats, but be perfectly easy:
for should he, being Jupiter, withhold his rain, I, who am Keptun^
the god of water, can dispense ss much as I please, and whenever
there shall be occasion." To which the chaplam answered, ' Nevor-
theless, Signor Keptune, it would not be wdl at present to provoke
Signor Jupiter : therefore, I beseech you, remúc where you are, and
when we have more leisure, and a better opportunity, we will return for

* CertÚD churches with mdulgenoea, ^pointed to be visitad either for
pardon ol uns, or for piocnrilig bleadngs.

A.OOgIC

munediateV disrobed, aitd he lemained in confioement : and there ia
an end of my atory."

"This then, master barber," raid Don Quixote, "is the storr which
*as so much to the purpose that van could not forljear Wllmg it ?
Ah ! si^nor cat-beardl signor cut-beard ! he most be blind indeed
who cannot see thronah a aiere. Is it possible ;ou should be ignorant
tltat comparisons of all kinds, whether as to sense, courage, beaut;, or
rank, are dways offensive F I, master barber, sm not Neptune, god
of the waters: nor do I set myself up for a wise man; alii aim at is
to convince the world of its error in not reviving tliose happy timea
when the order of knight-errantry flourished. But this our degene-
rate age deserves not to enjoy so great a blessiug as that which «as
the boast of former ages, when knights- errant toiak upon themselves
the defence of kingdoms, the protection of orphans, the relief of
damsels, the chastisement of the haughtv, and the reward of the
humble. The knights of these times rustle in damasV and brocade,
rather than in coats of mail. Where is the kuisht now who will iie
ki the open field, exposed to the rigour of tlie bcavens, in complete
srmonrrrom head to footP Or, leaning on hia lance, take a short
nap without quitting hisstirrups, like the knights-errant of old times?
ITou have no one now who, issuing out of a forest, ascends some
Dionntoia, and thence traverses a barren and desert shore of the sea,
commonly stormy and tempestuous ; and, finding on the beach a, small
akiff, withoat oara, sail, mast, or tackle of any kind, he boldly throws
himself into it. committing himself to the implacable billows of the
deep ocean, which now mount him up to the skies, and tlieu cast bira
down to the abyss : and he, opposing his courage to the irresistible
iurricane, suddenly Ends himself above three thousand leagues from
the place where he embarked; and, leaping on the remote aod un-
known shore, encounters accidents worthv to be recorded, not on
parchment, bat on brass. But in these oays, sloth triumphs over
activity, idleness over labour, vice over virtue, arrogance over oraverj,
and the theory over the practice of arms, which only existed ana
flonrished with knights-errant in those ages of gold, 'or, tell me, I
-ray, where was there so much valonr and virtue to be found as in
-imadis de Gaul? Who was more discreet tfiat Palmerin oflinglandP
Who more affable and oblking than Tirante the White ? Who more
gallant than Lisuarte of Greece P WTio gave or received more cuts
and slashes that Don Belianis P Who was more intrepid than Perion
of Gaul P Who more enterprising than reliimarte of Hyrcauia F
Who more sincere than EsplandianP Who more daring than Don
Cirongilio of Thrace P Who more brave than Hodamonte ? Who
Biore prudent than Kmg Sobrino P Who more intrepid than Rinaldo?
Who more invincible than Orlando P — and who more gallant and
oourteons than Bui^ierio, from whom, aecoriiing to Turpm's Cosmo-
graphy, the present dukes of Ferrara are descended? All these, and
C^ers that leonld name, master priest, were knights-errants, and tho
bght of chivalry ; and such as these are the men I would advise hb
majesty to employ. He then would he well served, a vast expense
wonid De spared, and the Turk might go tear his beard for very mad-
ness : so now I will stay at home, since the chaplain does not fetch
iM ont ; and, if Jupiter u detcsmined to vitbbola bis nm, here am I,

E

who will nia vbeoejet I think proper — goodman basin will see that
I understand him."

" In truth, Signer Don Quixote," said the barber, " I meant no
harm in n-hat I said, so help me God : therefore your worslup ought
not to take it amiss." " Whetiier 1 ought or not, said DonQnJiotí^
" is best known to m^elf." " Well," said the pnest, " thou^ I h»w
;et scarcely spokeiL I should be ver; glad to reUeve my consdesM
of a scruple which has been started by what Signor Don Quixote jost
now said." " You may command me, BÍgnor curate, in such matters,"
answered Don Quixote, "out then with your scruple: for there can
be no peace with a scrupulous conscíenoe." " With this licenM^
then," said the curate, " 1 must fell you that I can by no loeaiis put-
suade myself that the multitude of knights-errant your worship hu
mentioned were really and truly persons of flesh and blood eustiiu
in the worlil ; on tbe contrary, I imagine that the accounts given ¿t
them ore all fictions and dream^invented by men awake, or to apeak
more properly, half asleep." " This is a common mistake," antrwered
Don Quixote, " which I have, upon sundry occasions, and in 01907
companiea, endeavoured to correct. Sometimes I have failed in my
attempts, at other times succeeded, beinx founded on the basia m
truth : for I can almost say these eyes have seen Amodis de Giaul,
who was toll of stature, of a fair complexion, witli a well-set beard,
though black ; his aspect being mild and stem ; a man of few words,
not easily provoked, and soon pacified. And as I have described
Amadis, so, methinks, I could paint and delineate every knigb^errant
recorded in all the histories in the world. For I feel such confidence
in the accuracy of their historians that I find it easy, from their
exploits uid character, to form a good philosophical guess at tlieir
features, their complexions, and their stature." " Pray, Signor Don
Quixote," quoth tlie barber, " what sire do you think Ihe giaut Mor-
eante misbt have been P " "As to the matter of ^iauts, answered
Don Quixote, " though it has been a controverted pomt, whether thay
reslly existed or not, the Holy Scriptures, which cannot deviate a
titile from truth, prove their reality in the histoiy of that huge Philis-
tine Goliath, who was seven cubits and a hslf hlsli— a prodigious
statme! Besides, in the island of Sicily there have oecu found thiglt
and shoulder bones so large that it is evident those to whom they
beloui-ed were giauts, tall as Lofty steeples, which may be ascertained
beyond all doubt hy the rules of geometry. Ñevertüeless, I cannot
precisely tell you what were the dimensions of Morgante, although I
am inchned to beheve that he was not extremely tall : because i find,
in the hislory wherein his achievements are particularly mentioned,
that lie often slept under a roof; and since he found a house which
could contain him, it is plain he was not himself of an immeasniable
iize." " That is true," quoth the priest; who, being amused with his
solemn extravagance, asked his opinion of the persons of Riualdo of
Kloatalvan, Orlando, and the rest of the twelve peers of Franoe, since
they were all knishta-erront. " Of Hinaldo," ansrtercd Don Quixote,
" 1 dai-e boldly attirm, he was broad-faced, of a ruddy complexiot^
rolling eyes, and somewhat prominent, punctilious, choleric to an
excc!>s, and a friend to robbers and proáigates. Ut' lloldau, or Koto-
lando, or Orlando (for history gives him all these nauie.s). Ibclieve^
and will maintain, that he was of middle stature, broad-shouldered,
rather bandy-legged, biovn-complexioned, carroty-bearded, haiiy-

sahcho'b visit. S87

D aspect, sparing in Bpceoh, yet conrteoiu and

mdo," repLod the priest, " was not more comelj
than Tou have described him, no wonder that my Lady An^elies
the Fait disdained and forsook him for the grace, sphgbtiuiess,
and gailantcy of the smooth-faced little Moor; and she was dis-
creet in preferring the softness of Medont to the roughness of

ft paltry beardless patee, without estate, and with no other reputation
Üat what he acquired from his Rrateful fidehty to his friena, Eveu
the great eitoller of her beauty, the famous Ariosto, either not
daring, or not caring, to celebrate what befel this ladv after her low,
iotrigóe, the snlqect not being over delicate, left net with tbese
renes:—

"Poets are called 'vates,' that is to say, 'diviner»;' and certainly

these lines were prophetic : tor since that time a famous Andalasiaa
poet" has bewailed and sung her tears ; and her beauty has been
celebrated by a Caatilian poett of extraordinary merit." And pray
tell me, Sipnor Don Quixote, said the barber, " amoi^ many who
have sung her praises, has no poet written a satire upon this Lady
Aiuteliea?" I verily believe," answered Don Quiiote, "that if
Orlando or Sacripanta had been poets, the; would lon^ ago have
settled that account ; for it is not uncommon with poeta, disdained or
rejected by their mistresses, to retaliate by satires and lampoons ; —
a species of revenge certainly unworthy a generous spirit ; but
hitherto I have not met with any defamatory verses against the Lad;
Angelica, although she was the author of so mnch mischief in the
world," "Marvellous indeed!" siúd the priest. At this moment,
they were interrupted by a noise in the courtyard; and hearing the
niece and housekeeper vociferating aloud, they hastened to learn the

CHAPTER U.

LooKreo out of the window, DonQoiiote, the priest, and the barber,
saw the niece and housekeeper engaged in defending the door ai,-ainst
Sancho Punza, who came to nay his master a visit. " Fl'IIoít, fret
home ! " said one of them, " what have vou to do here ? It is by von
our master is led aslray and carried rambling about the country, like
a vagabond." " Thou devilish housekeeper ! " retorted Sancho, " it
* Louis Bambona de Soto. -t Lope de Vegn.

A.OOgIC

ia I that nn lea astr&y, and carried rambling up and down the high-
ways; and it was four master that led me tnia dance:— so there tou
are quite mistaken. He teinpted me from home with promises oE aa
island, wtach. I still hope for. " Mav the cursed islands choke thee,
wretch!" answered the niece; "and pray, what are islandsf Are
they anything eatable F— elntton, cormorant as thou art ! " " Thejr
are not to be eaten," replied Sancho, "_but povemed, and are better
things than any tour cities, or four justiceships at court." " For all
that," said the housekeeper, " you snail not come in here, you bag of
mischief, and bundle of nguery ! Get you home and Eorem there :
Ko, piough and cart, and do not trouble your silly pate about islands,
liie priest and the barber were highly diverted at this dialogue : bat
Don Quixote, fearing lest Sosciio should blunder oat aomethiiig
unseasoQably, and touch apon certain points not advantageous to hu
reputation, ordered the women to hold their peace, and let him in.
Sancho entered, and the ¡iritst and the barber took their leave of Don
Quixote, now quite despairing of his cure : seeing that he waa more
intoxicated tian ever with knight .errantry. " You will see, neigh-
bour," said the curate, as they walked away, " our friend wiil soon
take another flight." " No doubt of it," said the barber, " yet I
think the creduhty of the squire still more eitraordiaaryr — it seems
impossible to drive that same bland out of his head." "Heaven help
them!" cried the priest. "However, let us watch their motions;
the knight and the squire seem both to he cast in the same mould,
and the madnesa of the one, without the folly of the other, would
not be worth a rush." " I should like to know what they are now
conferring about," said the barber. " We shall soon hear that from
the niece or housekeeper," repLed the priest ; " tor, 1 lay my life, they
will not refrain from ustening."

Son Quixote having shut himself up in his chamber with Sancho,
he said to him, " It concerns me much, Sancho, that thou wilt peraist
in saying tiiat I enticed thee from thy home. How ! Did we not both
leave our homes together, journey together, and were both exposed to
the same fortune ! K thou wert once tossed in a blanket, 1 have only
had the advantage of thee, in being a htmdred times exposed to hard
blows." " That ia hut reasonable, answered Sancho ; for, as jour
worship says, misfortunes belong more properly to knights-errant than
to their squires." " Thou art mistaken, Sancho " said Don Qnixote;
" tor, according ia the saying, Quaxdo caput dolet, &c." " I ondeV-
atand no other language than my own," replied Sancho. " I meaiL"
aaid Don Quixote, " that when the head aches, all the members acne
also; and therefore I, being thy lord and master, am thy head, and
thou, being my servant, art a portion of me ; and, therefore, what-
ever evil I Bufier must be fe!t by thee, as thy sufferings likewise affect
me." " And so it should be," quoth Sancho ; " but when I as a mem-
ber, suffered in the blanket, my head stood on t'other side of the
pales, seeing me tossed in the aú, without taking the smallest share
in my pun, though, as the members are hound to erievc at the ills of
the head, the head should have done the like for them," " Wouldst
thou then insinuate, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "that I was not

r'eved when I saw thee tossed in the air ? If that he thy meaning
Bssared ihou art deceived ; for I felt more at that time in my mina
than thou didst in thy body. But let us dismiss this subject at pre-
■ent ; for a time will come when we may set this matter to rigbts.

nmuc OPiHioN at the knight. 280

And now tell me, friend Sancho, vhatdothejaaj'of meintbenllweP
What opinion do the common people entertain of mcF What think
the gentlemen and the caraliers T What ia said of mj prowpsa, of
my eiploits, and of my courteooa demeanonvP What say they to
the desien I hare fonned of reviving the iong-foraotten order of
chiralry f In short, Sancho, I would have thee tell me wbateTei
thou haat heard conoernioK these matfers ; and this thou mnst do,
without addiuB to the Bood, or omitting the evil ; for it is the part or
faithful vassals to tell their lords the truth in its natiw simpiicitj',
neither cmbellisbed by adulation nor withheld out of any idle dáicacy.
And let me tell thee, Sancho, that if the naked truth could reach the
ears of princes, without the disguise of flattery, «e should see happier
days, and former asea would be deemed as iron in oomparison of oura,
■which would then be truly termed the golden aie. Now remember
this, Sancho, and give me an ingenuous and faitnful account of what
thou knowest conceroinff these (natters," " That I will, with all my
heart, sir," answered Sancho, " on condition that your worship bo not
■n^ry atwhat I say, since you desire to have the truth, just as it came
to me." " I will in no wise be angry," replied Don Quiote ; " speak
then freely, Sancho, and without any circumlocution.

"First and foremost, then." said Sancho, "the common people take
TOUT worship for a downright madman, and me fur no less afooL
The gentry aaj that, not content to keep to your own proper rank of
a gentleman, you call yourself Bon, and set np for a knight, witn no
,L u : ^ „J _,_ _r /-.__., ^^^

. — — ^ -^ iintry

[uires who clout their shoes, and take up the fallen stitches of their

more than a paltiy vineyard and a couple of acres of land.
cavaliers say tney do not choose to be vied with by those o

■quil- ■■'■■ ■' '■■-.-_ _!..._ __J._I_ ..V_ f.ll... _,-i.L.. .

b&cl

never patched ; a little torn it may be, but more by the filing of
my armour than by time." " As to your valour, eoortesy, achieve-
ments, and undertakings," continned Sancho, " there are many
different opinious. Some say you are mad, but humorous ; others,
valiant, but unfortunate: others, courteous, bat absurd; and thus
they pull us to pieces, tiU they leave neither your worship nor me a
•ingle feather upon our backs. " Take notice, Sancho,'*^ aaid Don
QiuxolA, " that, wherever virtue eiists in any eminent de^ree^ it ia
Mwajra persecuted, few, or none, of the nunoua men ol antiquity
MCaped the calumny of their malidous contemporaries. J^uliua Cóear,
ft most conraraons, prudent, and valiant general, waa ohai^ wiUi
baiag too ambitioaa, and also with want d personal oleanliuess,
Aleunder, whose óploits gained him the Bormune <tf Great, is
■aid to hare been addicted to dnmkennesB. Hercnles, who per-
fonned so many laboora, is accusedof being lascivious and effeminate.
Don Galatff, brother of Amadia de Gaol, was taxed with being quar-
■vlsome, and bis biather with being a whimperer. Amidst so many
MpcTÑons cast on the worthy, mine, O Sandio may very well pass,
if thn an no more than thon hast mentioned." Body of myfaíherl
there 8 the rub, sir," exclaimed Sancho. " What, then, is there moro
yet behind?" said Don Qniiote. " Why, all the things I have told

Care tarts and cbemecakes to wb^ remains benind," replied
cho: " but if your worship would have all, to the very dregs, I
will bring one hither presently who can tell jou everything, without
ffliising a tittle; for last night the son of Bartholomew Carrasoo

390 iH»i <t^'I2OT>-

returned from hii studies at Salsinsnca, where he has taken hia hache-
lor's degree ; and when I veut to bid nim welcome home, he told mc
that the history of your worship was already printed in tixtks, under
the title of ' Don Quixote de la Mancha ;' and he aaj'S it mentions me
tooby myTerynane of Sancho Panza, and also the lady Dulcinea del
Toboso, and seyeral other private matters which passed between no
two omy ; insomuch that I crossed myself out of pure amazement, to
think how the historian who wrote it should come to know ihem."
" Depend upon it, Sancho," said Don Quixote, " that the author
of tins our hutory must be aome sage enchanter : for nothing is oon-
ceaied from them." " A sape, aniT an enchanter P " qvioth Sancho i
"why, the bachelor Sampson Carrasco savs the author of this story is
called Cid Uamet Bereneena." • " That is a Moorish name,"
answered Don Quiiote. It mav be bo," replied Sanelio; " for I
bare heard that voor Moors, for tne meet part, are ktven of Beren-
genas." " Sancho," süd Inn Quiiote, "thou most be mistaken !■
the surname of that same ' Cid,' which, m Arabic, signifies ' a !onl.' "
"lliat may be," answered Sancho, "tut if your worship would Mke
to see him, I will run and fetch him." " Thou wilt give me singular
pleasure, friend," said Don Quixote ; " for I am surprised at what
thou hast told me, and shall be impatient till I am infonned of
every pMticolar." "I will go for nim directly." said Sancho j
then, leaiing bis master, be went to seek the bacnelor, with whom
he soon returned, and a most delectable conversation then passed
between them.

CHAPTER in.

Dos QoixoTE, foil of thonjht, was impatient for the rctatn rf
Sancho and the Mchelor Carrasco, anxious to hear about the printed
aeconnts of himself, yet scarcely believing that such a history coofd
reollf be published, since the blood of the enemies he had slain was
still recking on his sword'biade — indeed, he did not see how it was
possible that his high feats of arms should be already in print. How-
ever, he finally concluded that some sage, either fnend or enemy, by
art -magic, had sent them to the press: if a friend, to proclaim and
extol them above the most signal achievements of knigflts-errant— H
an enemy, to annihilate and sink them below the meanest that ever
were written even of a squire : though again he recollected that the
feats of squires were never recorded. At any rate he was certain, if
it should prove the fact that such a history was really extant, bemg
that of a krdght errant, it eould not be otherwise than lofty, illustrioos,
maguificent, and true. This thought afforded him some comfort, bift
he lost it again on considering that the author was a Moor, as It
appeared from the name of Cid, and that no trulh could be expected
from Moors, who are all impostors, Hars, and visionaiies. He also
* Satiaho miitakss Bercngcna, a spaotoa of fruit, ibr Bsd E^unU.

A.OOgIC

THE BAlOBBLOS C&RBASCO. £91

fclt much inquietude lest tLe Mithor might hnve trented his ;>usion
Willi indelicacy, Kod thercbv offend the immacokte purit; of his ladr
JJulcinea del Toboso; be nuped, however, he might flod a faithful
(Ulineutiou of ilia own conslancy and the decorum he had evef
invioUbly preserved towards her ; Blighting, for her sake, queiins,
eiiipres8C9, and damsels of all de^^recs. and resisting the most violent
temiitations. WbUe lie was ag-itated bj these anda tliousand other
fancies, SanDho returned, accompiuiied b; the baclielor, who was
d witb all possible courtesy,
bachelor, tiiough Sampson I

iittle mirth-ioving man, wii ^ . . _^ ,

tirenty-foiir years of ape, of a pale complexion, roniid-faccd, flat-
noeed, and wide-monthid ; all indicating humonr and nntim relish for
joctdarity, which, indeed showed itself when on approaehins Don
Quixote, ne threw himself npon his knees, and said to him, "Si^or
Jjun Quixote de la Manch^ alloT mu the honour of kissm^ yoar jilua-
triona hand, for bv the habit of St. Peter, which I wear— thougb I
fcave yet taken only the four first dezrees towards holy orders^ — your
"Worship is one (^ the most famous kni;;hts-errant that hath ever been or
shall be, upon the whole circumference of the earth! A blessing light
on Cid lliunet Benengeli, who has recorded the hbtoiyof yourmignty
deeds! and blessing upun blessings light on. thnt ingenious scriM
whose laudable curiositr was the cause of its being translated out of
Arabic into our vulgar Castilian, for the proñt and amusement of aQ
mankind!" Bon Quixote having raised him from the ground, said to
him, "It is true, then, that my history b really published to theworlA
uui that it was written by a Moor und a sage r" " So true it is, sir,
said Sampson, "that I verily believe there are, at this very day, above
twelve thousand copies published of that history : — witness Portugal,
Barcelona, and Valencia, where they wrae printed ; and it is said to
be now printing at Antwerp — indeed, I prophesy that no nation
or language will be withoat a translation of it. ' There cannot be
a more legitimate sOTircc of gra'.ification to a virtuous and distin-
gnisbed man," said Don Quiiote, "than to have hi» good name
Helebrated during bis life-time, and circulated over different nations :
— I say bis good name, for if it were otlierwise than ^d, dcuth, in
any shape, would be preferable." "As to high reputation and a good

*" or, "your worship beais the palm over all post

IB Uoor in the Arabian limguage, and the
ition, have both taken core to paint to the life
nt which distinguishes you, that greatness of
igers, tht^ i^ience in adversity, that fortitude
isty and continence in love, so truly Platonii^
ween yon and my lady Donna Dulcinea del

but' o_^ ,

rea^y mistaken." " That objection is of no
i Carrasco. "No, certainly," replied Don
U me, signor bachelor, on which of ny eiploila
it stressinthat same history P" "As to that
ibr, " opinions vanr according to the difference
3r the ^venture of the wind-mills, which your
worsfa^took Ibiso many Biiaienses ami gi^uits; others prefer that
"» A.OOgIC

of the foUk^-Biilb; one cries uplor the t<n)aiviies,T)inil]tDraed out
to be flocks of sheep ; mother for the dead body, curyniB for mter-
ment to Segoria. some nmintaiii that the affur of the f^aUey-slkTe*
is the flower of »U; while others will have it that none eaa oe Cora-
pared to tliat of the two Benedictine giants, and the combat with the
TalonKia Biscajan." "'Pnj teUne, si^or baohdor," quoth Sandio,
"has it got, amon^ the rest, the uair of the Yaoirnesiau carnets,
«hen our good Rozinante «as tempted to go astrajf" "The aage,"
answered Sampsoo, "has oniitted nothing'— he minalely details efety-
thing, even to the capers &mcho cut in the blanket," "I cut no
c«4>er3 in the bhinket," answered Sanoho ; " in the air I own I did,
and not mtich to my liking." " There is no biston' of human afcira,
I conceive," said tkin Quixote, " whieb is not foil of reverses, trad
none more than those of chividry." " Nevertheless," replica the
bachelor, "some who hare read the historysay they should nave been
better pleased if the nathors of it had forborne to enumerate all the
buffetingsendored by Signor Don Quinóte in his different enconnlers."
" Therein," quoth Sancno, "consists the truth of the history," "They
might, indeea, as well haTe omitted them," said Don Quixote, " since
there is no necessity tat ie«ordÍnz actions which are prejudicial to the
bero, without being essential to tne liistory. It is not to be supposed
that MoBta was in all his actions so pure as Vii^ rraresenta him,
nor Ulysses so uniformly prudent as he is deicribed by Homer.
" True," replied Sampson ; " but it a one thing to write as a poet,
and another to write as an hiitorian. The poet may say or aing,
not as things were, but aa they ought to have been ; but the historian
must pea them not as they ought to hare been, but as they real^
were, without adding to, or cuminishing aught from the truth.
" Well, then," said Sancho, " if this Signor Moor is so fond of telling
the truth, and my master's rib-roaatinga are all set down, 1 En^moMi
mine are not forgotten ; for they never took measure of his worship's
shoulders, but at the same time they contrived to get the len^b and
breadth of my whole boi)i ; — but why should I wonder at that, since,
as this same master of mine says, the members must share the fate oi
Ifae he^d ? " " Sancho, thon art an arch rogue," replied Don Quixote.
" and in faith, upon some occasions, hast no want of memorv.
" Thouich I wanted ever so much to fo^et what my poor body tms
■nfl'ered," quoth Sancho, " the toknia that an still fnah on my ribs
would not let mo." " Peace, Sanoho," said Don Quixote, " and let
signor bachelor proceed, that I nwv know what is further said of me
in the history." " And of me too,'' qnoth Sancho, " í<» I hear Üuá I
am one of the principal parsons in it." " Feraons, not parsons,
friend Sancho," quoth Sampson. " What, have we another corrector
of words F " qnoth Sancho : " if we are to go on at this rat«, we shall
make slow work of it." " As sure as I live. Sancho," ansn «red the
bachelor, " you are the second person of the liistorr : — nay, there are
those who had rather bear you talk than the finest fellow of them all:
though there are also some who charge jou with being too credulous
in expecting the government of that island promised you by Signor
Don Quixote, here present." " There is still aun^ahine on the wall,"
qnoth Don QuÍxote¡ " and when Sancho ig more advanced in a^
with the experience that years bestow, ha will be better qualified to
be a govenior than ho is at present." "Tore Qad! sir" quoth
Sancho, "if I an not fit to govern an island at these years, I lUl be

, , . .A.OOgIC

THK maKT** HmoBiAX. 99S

m better able at tke age of Methnsalefn. The mi«cliief of it is, that
the said island sticks tomswliere elae, and not in my want of a bead-
sieoe to povem it." " Recommend the matter to God, Sandio," said
Don Qaiuite ; " and all will be well— perhaps better than thou mayat
Üúak: fur not a leaf stirs <a the tree nithout his penniKsion."
"That is very true," qnoth Sampson ; " and if it please (k>d, Sancho
will not want a thoasaod isUnih to govern, much less one." " 1 have
Ken governor ere now," qnolh S«Bcbo, " nbo, in my onÍDion, do
not come up to the sole of xtij shoe ; and jet they are called ' yovr
lordship,' and eat their victuals upon piale." " Those are not ^ver-
moB oS islands," replied Sampeon, " fant of other guveraments more
tuasageable ; for those who Rovem islands must at least onilersland
eramuiar." " Gramercy for that 1 " qnulh Sancho i " it is all Crreek
to me, for I know nothing of the matter; so let as leave the business
f)i govenuneata in the hands of God, and let Him dispose of me in
the way that I may best serve Him. But I am mi)ditily pleased,
SiKaur Baobelor Sampson Carrasoo, that the author of the history haa
Ikot spoken ill of me ; for, upon the faith of a tnwtv squire, hnd he
said anithinx of me uobecoming an old Christian, as 1 am, the deaf
should nave neard it." " That would be woiling miracles," answered
Sampsco. " Jiiraolea, c»- nomiracles," quoth Sancho, "people sliould
taJte need what they say and wril« of otíier fi^ks, and oot set anythii^
down that comes uppomost."

" One of the faults found with this hisiory," eaid the bachelor, " is
that the author has inserted in it a novel called ' The Curious imper-
tioent ;' not because the tale is bad in iWel/, or ill-written, but tliej
8aj that it is out of place, having nothinE to do with the storj of his
worship Sienor Don Quiiote." I wiL lay a wager," re[Aied Sanehi^
" the rascally author has made a &ie hotch-poUh of it, jumblJa^ fiab
and flesh together." " I aver then," said Don Quixote, " that the
author of my history could not be a lage, but some ignorant pre-
tender, who has engatiwd in the work without deliberation, and
written doin» wijthiiMf, iuist at random : like Orbeneja, the painter of
übeda, who, being asked what he was painting, answered, ' As it. may
happen ;' sod who, when he had pajuteda cock, to prevent impertinent
nísükeá, «rute under it, ' This is a oock.' Thus, periiaps, it has
fared with my history, which may requii« a oomraent to make it
intelligible." " Not at all," answered Sampson ; " for it is so plain,
M easy to be undecBtood, that children tíiamb it, boya read it, jnen
understand it, and dd folks eomnend it ; in short, it is so tossed
tiicMt, so eocoed, uid so t^orouKhly known by all sorts of peoj^
that no sooner is a loan horse see« than they ery, ' Yonder ^ors iton-
uuite.' But none are so much addicted to reiiunff it as your pazee :
— ia every nobleman'a antechamber von will be sure to find a l>in
Quxot«. If one Lays it down, another takes it np ; one asks for it,
snothisi snatches it ; — in short, this history is the moat pleasing and
least prejadioial work that was aver published : for it contains not
one indeeent ex{H^ssÍOD, nor a thought that t* not nnrely catliolie."
" To writ« otkerwise of me," aaid Don Quísote, " bad not been to
write truths, but lies : and historians who propagate blschoods should
be condemned to the stake, hke ccduen of base moDer. Why the
aUllKir was indnced to iaÍE novels, or narratives of other persons,
with my histoiT, which is itself sa rich in matter, I know not; but
■one ynitea Üátk, aa the proverb s«ys, ' With har or with straw-^t

A.OOgIC

is all the same' Veril?, bad he confined himsplf to the pnhlicatioh
of my thoughts, my aalis, my (,Toans, my laudable inlentions, or mj
actual aclijevcments. ne might, with these alone, bare compiled a
volume as large, or 1ar;;er, than all the vorks of Tostatus. £ut in
truth, si^or liachelor, mach kuowledgn and a mature nnderstandins
are requisite for a hbtorian, or, indeed, for a good writer of any kiod;
and \vú and humour belong to genius alone. There is no uharuclcr
in comedy vhich requires bo much ingenuity as th»t of the fool;
for he must not iii reality be what he appciira. History is like
sacred wrilinf, because troth is essential to it; and where there b
truth, the Deity himself is present ; neyerthelcss, there are many who
think that books may be written and tossed out into the world like

"There is no book so bad," s^d the bachelor, "but thatsorae-
thinp good may be fcnnd in it. " Undoubtedly," said Don Quiiote;
" ] nave known many, too, that bare enjoyed conaiderabie reputation
for their talents in wrilinjr, nntU, by publishing, they hare either
injured or entirely lost their fame," "The reason of this is," said
Sampson, " that as printed works may be read leisurely, thdr
defocts are more easily seen, and Ihey are scrutiDised more or less
strictly in propiHlion to the cclfibrity of the author. Men of great
talents, whether poets or historians, seldom escape the attacks of
those who, without ever faTOiirm^ the world with any production of
their own, tiike delight in criticising the works of olliers." "Kor
can we wonder at that," said Don Quixote, " when we observe the
same practice anioog divines, who, though dull enough in the pulpit
themselves, are wonderfully sharp- sii;1i ted in discovering the defects
of other preachers." "True, indeed, Sijtnor Don Oiiiiote," said Car.
tasco; I wshcriticswould be less fastidious, nor dwell so much upon
the mot«3 which may be discerned even in the brightest works : Tor,
though ati^anáo toxtu domilat Hosiena, they ought to consider
bow much he waa awake to produce a work with so much light
aud so little shade ; nay, perlúps even bis seeming blemishes are
like moles, which are sometiiries thought to be rattier an improve-
ment to beauty, Bnt it cannot be denied, that whoever pubhshes
a book to the worU, exposes himself to miminent peri!, since, of
kU thinp, nothing is more impussihle than to satisfy everybody."
" My history must please but very few, 1 fear," said Don Quísote.
"On the contrarj;," replied the baeliclor, "as, lialfomm ñjinitiu cit
Mimens, so infinite is the number of those who have been delighted
with that histonr. Though some^ it is true, have taxed the author with
having a treacherous memorj', since he never explained who it was
tliat stole Sancbo's Dapple : it only appears that he was stolen, yet
soon after we find him mounted upon the same beast, without
being told how it was recovered. Thev complain also, that he bos
omitted to inform us, what Sancho did with the hundred crowns
which be found in the portmanteau in the Sierra Morena : for he
never mentions them again, to the great disappointment of many
curions persons, who reckon it one of the most material defects in
the work." " Master Sampson," replied Sancho. " I am not in the
mind now to oome to aoc< i.iils or reckonings, lor I have a quahn
come over my stomach, anil sh^ not be easy till I have rectified
it with a couple of draugbi^ of oM stingo : I have the darling at
home, ud my duok loc^ for me. When I have hod my feed, and
A.OOgIC

BASCEO PAKU.B SXFUJIATIOKS.

my girths are tightened I sball be with vou straight, and will satisfy
ruu and all the world, in whatever ttiey sre pleased to ask me
both toiichiníí the loss of Dapyle and llie Injinff out of the hundred
crowns," Then, without wailin? for an answer, or aajiug another
word, he set off home. The bachelor, bcin; pressed by Don Quísote
to stay and do penaaee with him, he accepted the invitation, and a
couple of pieeous were added to the uauat fare : chivalry was the
subjti't at table, and Carrasco carried it on with the proper hnmonr
and spirit. Their banquet over, they sh'pt during the heat of the
day ; after which Sancho letumed, and the former conversation was
renewed.

1, Master Sampson Carrasco, now you want to know when and
now mv Dapple was stolen, and who was the thief P You mnst know,
then, that on the very night that we marched off, to avoid the offioera
of the hoi; brotherhood, after the unlucky affair of the gaUey-sIaves,
having made our war into the Sierra Morena, my master and I got
into a thicket, where lie, leaning upon his lance, and I, sitting npon
Dapple, mauled and tired by our late skirmishes, we both fell as fast
asleep as if we had hecn stretched upon four feather-beds. For my
own part, I slept so soundly that the thief, whoever he was, had
leisure enough to prop me up on four stakes, which he planted under
the four corners of the pannel, and then drawing Dapple from under
me, he left me fairlj mounted, without ever dreamm^^of my loss."
"That is an easy matter, and no new device," said Don Quixote;
" for it is recorded, that at the siege of Albiaca the famous robber
Brúñelo, by the very same strata^m, stole the horse of Saoripant«
from between his legs," " At day-br^," continued Sancho, "when
rtch mvself, the stakes gave way, and down
1 gquelch, to the ^und. 1 looked abont

■' 'he aumor oi our nisiory n
1 excellent thing. After (

the prii
, , ... intedoo

d notorious malefactor Gines de Pnssa-
and I freed from the gallev-chain !" "The
" said Sampson, "but in tneauthormaking
ne beast before lie is said to have reoovered
iaocho, "I know nothing about; it might
ian, or perhaps, a blander of his printer."

A.OOgIC

8H DOS Quixon.

"No i(niA it was to," anoth SNnpsop: "bat wbat bemm of Uu
hnndred crovrnsP — for tbere we are in the dark." "I laid them
out," replied Sancho ; " for the benefit of iny own person and Uiat
of mv wueand children; and they have been the canse of her hearing
guietlj my rambles from home in the service of 1117 master Bon
Quiiote : for had I returned after «o iong a time, asa-less and penny-
leas, I must have looked for a scurv; greeting: and if yon want to
kcow anything more of me, here I am, ready to answer the kinR him-
self in person ; though it is nothing to anybody whether I boagM
or bought not, whether I spent or spent not : tor if the cuffs and
blows that have been given me in our travels were to be paid for
in readv money, and mted only at four maravedís a-piece, another
hundred crowns would not pay for half of them : so let eveir man
lay his hand npon bis heart, and not take white for black, nm
black for white ; for we are all as God made ns, and oftentimes a
great deal worse."

" I will take care," said Carrasco, "to warn the author of the
history not to forget, in his neit edition, what honest Sancho has
told us, which wul make the hook as good again." " Are there
any other explanations wanting in the work, signor bachelor ? "
quoth Don Quiiote. " There may be others,' answered Carrasco,

but none of equal importance with those already^ mentioned.
" Peradventure," said Don Quixote, " the author promises a aecoiid
part ? " " He does," answered Sampson, " but says he has not yet
been able to find oat the possessor of it ; and therefore we are in
donbt whether or not it will ever make its miearanoe. Seside^
some people say that second parts are never good for anything ; ana
othen, that there is enough of Don Quixote already ; thoi^ it is
true there are some merry souls who cry, ' Let ns have more Onixot-
adea : let but Don Quiiote enoonnter, and Sandio Panza talK, and
go the world as it may ! " " But pray, how stands the editor
afleotedP" inquired Don Quiiote. "How!" saidSampson; "why
as soon as be ean find this iuBtorj, which he is diligently sewching
for, he will immediately seud it to press, more on account of the
profit than the praise which he hopes to derive from it." " What,
then," said Sancho, " the author wants to get money by it ? If so,
it will be a wonder, indeed, if it is well done ; for he will stitoh it
sway like a tailor on Eaater-eve, and your hasty woiis are never eood
for an>thing. This same Signor Hoor would do well to consider a
little what he is about; for I and my master will furnish him so
•bondantly with lime and mortar in matter of adventares that he
may not only compile a second, but a handred parts. The good man
thinks, without doubt, that we he sleeping here in straw, but let him
hold up the limping foot, and he vill see why it halts. All that I
can say is, tiai if my master had taken my advice we might imn
been now in Uio field, rediegsiog grievanoes and lighting wrongt,
according to the nsage of good £night»<rTant." At this momeiiL
while Smcho waa yet speaking, the neighing of Roiinante reached
their ears; which Don Quixote took for a most happ^ omen, and
resolved, witjiout delay, to resume his functions, and agam sally forth
n(o the worid. He therefore consulted the baidtelor aa to iriiat
course he should take, and was advised by him to go straight to the
kingdom of Arragon and the city of Saiuossa, where, in a few days,
a most solemn tounument was to be hela in hráioar of the festival of

" A.oogic

SANCHO a OHMSm Of V1L0ÜX. 99r

Bunt Gecff|[e ; and there, by noqnisliing the Arra^itm kniriita, he
vonld acquire the uceudanc; over all tbe kmsbte m (be Torul, He
«ommended his rewlutiou a» most honoarable awl brave : at the
Mme time caalknimg him to be m<H« wary in eucoouteriiiK Kreat and
neetUesa |MTÍla, because Uia Ufe «aa not hia own, but belonged to
« who stood in need of his aid and protectioo. " That is jmt

what 1 s»T, Signw Sampsrai," qooth Sancho ; " for mr master makes
no more 01 attaJcIcingaboiidíed armed meDthanaeTeeayboywoahldo
Uf-a-doteu metons. Boi^ of me, signor bacJielor ! ;es, tliere must

__ a time to attack, and a time to retreat, and it iniut not be ¿waja,
'Saint Ja^, and aha^e, Spaini'* And further, 1 have heard it
taid(anii if 1 remember ngh^ bymymaater himself) that trae teJodt
Jiea ia the middle between eovardice and raahnesB : and, if so, I
woidd not hare him either fall on or flf, without good reason for it.
B«t, abore all, I would let m; master know that, u he takes me with
him, it must be upon condition that he shall battle it all himself, and
that I shall onlr have to tend hia person—I mean look after his
dotbes and food : all whioh I will do vith a heartr good will ; but if
be expects that I will lay hand to my sword, though it be only
agaioBt beggarly wood^onttecs with hoolCB and hatchets, be is very
mooh mistaken. I, Signor Sampson, do not set un for being the
most valiant, but tbe best and most faithful squire that ever served
knigbt-ernrnt; and if my lord Don Qaixole, in consideration of my
many and ^ood services, shall please to bestow on me some one (H
the many islands his «oiship says he shall light upon, I shall be
much beholden to bim for the favour ; and if he give me none, hwe I
am, and it ia better to trust God than each other; «id mayhap my
govcrcment bread might not m down so sweet as that which I ahould
eat withont it; and how do I kaow but the devil, in one of these

rvemments, might set np a stombling-block in my way, over whioh
may fall, and dash out my grinders ? Sancho I was bom, and
Sancho I expect to die ; yet for all that it fairly and squarely, with-
out much care or mudi risk. Heaven should chance to throw an
--''--' t some such thing, inmyway, I am not such a fool neither

Tose it : for, as t^'" -•"in™ i= 'Wtion tki™ n-ísa tmr, . tiulf»

be ready with the rope,' i
tokt herin.'"

"Brother Smcho," qaoth the bachelor, "yon have spoken like any
ptofesBor ; nevertheless, trost in Heaven, and Signor Jksa Quixote,
and then youmay getnotoiiljani8laiá,butevenakingdoro." "One
as likely as tbe other," answered Sandia ; " tbon^ 1 coold tell Bifnxir
Canasoo that my master vill not throw the kiiu^om be gives me into
aiottensack; forlhavefelt my pulse,andfiadmvadf etronfcenoDfch
to mis kingdoms and govern island^ and so nmon I have a^iBed,
before now, to my master." "Take heed, San^o," qnoth tbe bache-
lor, " for honours change manners ; and it may eome to pasa, whm
nm are a govenor, that you may not know even your own mother."

Ibst," answered Sancho, "may be the case with tboae that are bom
■mong tiie mallows: but not with one whose soul, like mine, is
eonred fonr inches thick with the grace of aa old Christian ;— no, no,
Z am not one of the ungrateful sort." " Heaven grant it," said Don

• "Santiago 7 elarraKapua," ia tlis ay of Clu ^«idaris at Uia ooaat

898 IMS qmxOTB.

Quixote ; " but ve shall see vhen tbe govenunent comes : and
metliinks I have it airead; in m; eye."

Tiie knigbt now requested Sampson Carrasco, if he were a poet, to
do him tbe faTOur to fximpose same Terses for biin, as a farewell to
his iady, and to pbice a letter of her name at tbe besinnini? of each
verse, so that the initials joined together might make DuUiaea del
Toboto. Tbe bacbelor Baiil tbnt, thou;;)i lie vaa not one of the great
poets of Spain, who were said to be tbrec-and-a-half in number, b«
would endeaionr to comply with bis request ; at tbe same time, he
foresaw that it would be no easy task, as tbe name consisted of seveo-
t«en letter?; foe if he made four stanzas of four verse» each, there
would be a letter too mucb, and if he made them of five, which are
called Decituas or Redondillas, there would be three letlers wanting :
however, he said that be would endeavour l^i sink a letter as well as
he could, so that the name of Dulcinea del Toboso should be included
in the four stanzas. " Let it be ao by all means," said Don Quixote ;
" for, when the name is not plain and manifest, tbe lady ia alwajis
doubliul whether the verses be really cotaposed for her," On tlua

Cut they aííteed. and also that tiiey should set out within eight days
m tbat time. i)on Quiiotc enjoined tbe bachelor to keep ms inten-
tion secret, especially from the priest and master Nicholas, as well as
hia niece and housekeeper, lest they might endeavour to obstruct his
honourable purpose. Carrasco promised to attend to his caution, and
took his leave, after obtaining a promise on bis part to s(

Ehtbbino on the present chapter, the translator of this hbtory says
that he takea it to be apocryphal, because Sancho therein expresses
himself in a style v^ diserent from what might beeipectcd from his
shallow understandins, and speaiis with an acutcncss that seems
wholly above his capacity; nevertheless he would not omit the
translation of it, in compLiance with the duty of his office, and there-
fore proceeded a3 follows : —

Suicho went liome in ench hif;h spirita that his wife observed bis
«iety a bow-shot off, insomuch Inat she could not help saving,
"What makes you look so blithe, friend Sancho?" To which he
answered : " Would to Leaven, dear wife, I were not so well pleased
ea I seem to he!" "I know not what you mean, husband," replied
ah& "by saying yon wish you were not so much pleased; now, sil^
as I am, I cannot guess how ouy one can desire not to be pleased.
" Look you, Teresa," answered bajicbo, " I am thus merry because I
am about to return to tbe service of my mastor Don Quixoto, who ta
.going again in search after adventures, and 1 am to accompany him :
for so mf fate wills IL Besides,! am ucny with Üie hopes of finding

aTiotTier hundred erovms like those we Uave spent ; thongli it grieres
me to part from you and my rhildren ; and if Heaven would be
pleasea to R\ve me bread, dryaiiod and at home, without draggii^ me
over crasrs and cross-paths, it is plain that my joy would Be bett«t
ptonnded, since it is now minded with sorrow for leaTJnft yon : so
that I was right in saving that I should be glad if it pleased lleareiL
I were not so well p'eaaed." " Look you, Sancho," replied Teresa,
"cTer since you have been tt knight-errant man, joti talk in such a
roundabout manner that nobody can understand you." " It is enough,
wife," said Sancho, "that God understands me. For He b the
nndcrstander of all things ; and so much for that. And do yoa hear,
wife, it behoves yon to take special care of Dapple for these three or
four days to come, that he mav be in a condition to bear arms ; so
doable bis allowance, and get tbe pack-saddle in order, and the rest
of hia tackling; for we are not going to a wedding, but to roam aboat
the worid, and to ^¡vcand take with giants, fiery dragona, and goblins,
and to hear hissings, roarings, beliowings. and bleatinga ; all which
would be but flowers of lavender, if we had not to do with Yangueses
and enchanted Moors." " I believe, indeed, husband," replied Teresa,
"that yonr aquires-errant do not eat their bread for nothing, and
therefore I shall not f^l to beseech Heaven to deliver you speedily
from so much evil hap." " I tell you, wife," answered Sancho, " that
did I not expect, ere lon^, to see myself governor of an island, I vow
I should drop down dead npon the spot." " Not so, good husband,"
qnoth Teresa: "let the hen live, though it be with the nip. Do yon
live, and the devil take all the governments in the worlds Without a
Rovenunent joa came into the world, withont a government you have
tved till now, and witiiout it you can be carried to your grave, when-
ever it shall please God. How many folks are there in the world
that have no government ; and yet they live, and are reckoned among
the people f The ■— ' "- ■''■ '-^ is hunger, and as that is

ir wanting to with a relish. But if per-

ice, Sancho, j ent, do not forget me

yoor children. C ncho is just fifteen y

o\í and it is flt ht is uncle the abbot n

to breed him up ti so that Mary Sancha your

daughter will not t; her ; for I am mistaken

if she has not as i e you have to a gjorem-

ment ; and verily bat humbly marriea than

highly kept." "I tid Sancho, "if Heaven be

Eo good tome tba government, 1 will match

Mary Sancha so kp_j j coming near her without

calling her your ladyship." "TJotso, Sancho," answered Teresa; "the
best way is to marry her to her eqnw. ; for if you lift her from clouted
shoes to high heels, and, instead of her russet coat of fourteenpenny
Stu^give her a &rthingale and petticoats of silk ; and instead of plain
Molly and thou, she be called madam and yonr ladvship, the girl will
not know where she is, and will fall into a thonsaua mistake* at every
step, showbg her home-spun country stuff." " Peace, fool," qnoth
Sancho, " she has only to practise two or three yeare, and the gravity
will set upon her as if it were made for her : and if not what matters
it ? Let Tier be a lady, and come of it what will." " iíeasure yonr-
selt by yonr condition, Saniiio," answered Teresa ; " and do not te^
to raise yourself bi^er, but remember the proverb, ' Wipe yonr nei^-

A.OOgIC

900 DOF qmzoTB.

Iwui's sou's noee and take Iiim into your honae.' It would be a pret^
busiuess, trulj, to manr our Mary to some great count or liiii^^
who, when the fuicy tates him, would look upon her as some strange
thing, and be calling her country-wench, clod-hreaker'a brat, and I
know not «hat else. No, not while I lire, husband ; 1 have sot
brought up raj child to be so used j do you provide money, Sancho,
Bod lenve the matching of her to my care ; for there is Lope Tocho,
John Tocho's son, a luftj'^ hab young man, whom we know, and I am
sure he has a sneaking kmduesa for the irirl ; to him she wiU be very
well married, cousidenug he ia our equal, and will be always undel
our eye ; and we shall be all aa one, parents and children, grandson»
and sone-in-law, and so the peaoe and blessing of Heaven will be
aaiojig us all ; and do not you be for marryirig her at your courts and
great peaces, where they will neither understand her, not she under-
stand herself." " Hark you, beast, and wife for Búabfaas," replied
Sancho, " why would yon now, without rhyme or reason, hinder me
from marrying my daughter with one who may bring me rrandchildrm
that may be stj led your lordships ? — Iiook you, Teresa, 1 have always
heard my belters say, ' He tliat will not when he may, when he will
he shall nave nay ;' and it would be wrong, now that fortune is knock-
ing at our door, mit to open it and bid her welcome. ' Let us spread
our sail to the favonrabje gale, now that it blows.'" — It was this
language from Sancho, and more of the same kind which followed,
thM nude the translator suspect the present dtapter to be apocry-

" Bo yon not think, Miimal," oontinued Sancho, " that it would be
«ell fiK me to get hold of some good rich government that may lift us
out of the dirt, so that I may wed Mary Sancha to any one I please P
Tfou will then see how peíale will call you Donna Teresa Panza, and
fou will sit m thechurca with velvet cushions, carpets, and tapestries,
in spite of the best gentlewomen of the parisn. No, no, stay as you
are, and be alwaj;s the same thing, like a figure in the hanirings, with-'
oat beijig ever higher or lower. But no more of tliis, little Sancha
shall be a countoaa in spile of yonr teeth," " Take care what you say.
Lusbaud," answered Teteaa ; " for I am afraid this countess-sbip wül
be my daughter's undoing. But ^ou must do as you please — make
lier aducbessor ain-incuBS; but it shall never be with mv consent.
I always like to see things suited like to like, and cannot abide to see
folks take upon them when they sbouid not. Plain Teresa was I
christened, and my name was never made to be diicned either with Dona
or Donnaa. My father's name was Casero, and 1, behi» yonr wife,
am called Teresa Panza, though indeed, by good right, I should be
called Tereea Cascajo ; but tlie bws follow the prince's will. I am
content with that name as it is. without being burthened with Donna.
to make it ao heavy Ihat I should not be able to carry it : and X would
not have people cry out. when they see me decked ont like any coun-
tess or governess. ' Look how stately madam hog-ieeder stmts it !
lesterdav she toiled at her distaff from morning tonight, and went t«
mau wiin the tail of her petticoat over her bead, for lack of a reil;
sad to-day. forsooth, she goes with ber brthingale, her embroideries,
■nd «il so lofty as if we did not know her!' Ileavcn keep me in my
seren, or my nve senses, or aa many as I have ; for I bare no mind
to expose myself after this manner. Qo you, husband, to yonr govern-
lag ud islaudiiig, and puff yourself up as yon please ; as for mj girl

DirncTOTT.

The wiTe that eipacti to have a. good dboW
Is alwB jB at home, as if sbe •¡rare lame :
Aod ths maid Ihnt b honest, h€!r chiefcat delight
Is Kill to b« doing Irom muniiiig to oight.

thou(ch trulf I cannot gataa who made him a Bon, for neither bis
father nor his grandfather had any such title." "Outof ail question,"
ouoth SAneho, " some evil spirit must have got into thnt bod; of
thine ! Heaven biesa thee, woman ! vhat a heap of stuff hast thon
been twistine together, without either head or tail ! What has Csa-
caio, embroideries, or the proverbs, to do with what I am iapngF
Why, tboD foolish ignorant prater (for so I may well call thee, since
Uiou canst neither understand what I say, norseewhat is for thy own
good), had 1 told theé that onr daughter was to throw herself head-
long from some hijili steeple, or go gipsejing about the world as did
the Infanta Donna Urraca, thou wouldat have been right in not
coming into my mind ; but it, in two turns of a hand, and less than
the twinklingof anevc, IcaneqnipherwithaDonand Yoar Ladyship
and raise thee from tlic straw to sit ander acanopvof state.and upon
a sofa with more velvet cushions than all the Almohadas* of Morocco
had Moors in their lineage, why wilt thon not consent, and desire
what I desire f" "Would you know why, hnsbandP answered
Teresa. "It is because of the proverb, which says, 'He that covers
thee ^scovers thee.' The poor man is scarcely looked at, while every
eye is tomod upon the rich; and if the poor man grows rich and great
then I warrant you there is wori: enoogh for your gramblers ana
backbiters, who swarm evervwhere like bees."

"Hearken tome, Teres», answered Sancho, "and listen to what I
■m going to say ; mayhap thou hast never heard it before in idl thy
life : and I do not speak now of my own head, but from the speeches
of that good father the preacher, who held forth to ns last Lent in this
village, who, if I remember right, said that the thin^ which are yrt-
sent before our eyes take a stoonger hold on our minds than things
past."

An this parade of reasoning, bo ont of ebaraoter in Sancho, tended
to conGrin the opinion of the translator that this chapter could not
possibly be gennme. "That being the case," contmned Sancho,

when we see any pwson finely dressed, and set off with rich
apparel and with a trun of servants, we are raored to show him
respect; for, thoogh we cannot but remember certain scnrvy matters
ettbcr of poverty or parentage, that formerly belonged to htm, but
which being long gone by are almost fbrgotteiL we only think of what
we sec before our eyes. And if, as the preacher said, the person so
nused bv good iuck, from nothing, as it were, to the Bp-top of pros-
perity, DC well-behaved, generous, and civil, and gives bunseif no
ridiculoua airs, pretending to vie with the old nobility, take my word
tot it, Teresa, nobody will twit him with what he was, but will respect

him for vhat be ti

■ lick." . , . , . . _

_ ... what you think Tit, and du not crsi^k my brains sDf more

with your speeches and fluurishes ; bat if tou are revolved to do tu
you say" — "Uesulved, you should say, wife," qttotb Sancbo, "and
not rerolved." "Do not trouble yourself to mend my words,"
«uwered Teresa; " I speak as it oleases God, and meddle not wilii
your fine nitjons. I say ií you bold still in tho Bamc mind of bebg
a KOTcnior, take yoar son Sancho with you. and tmin him up to youi
caUini;, fur i' is fit that sona should learn their fnther'n trade."
" Wiien I have a Rovemmcnt," quolh Sancho, " J will send for him
by the poet ; and also money to yoo, which I shall have in abundancfl^
forpeoj>le am always readyenoush to lend their money to governors;
and mind you clothe the boy so that he may look, not like what
he is, but what be will be." Scud you tbe money, quoth Teresa,
" ana I will make him as ñne as a pium branch." " We are aKreed,
then," quoth Sancho, "ttiat our dau(chter is to be a countess?
"The day that I see her a countess," answered Teresa, "I shall
reckon I am laying her in iiergrare: but I Bay again, you must da as
you please, for to this burden women are bom — they must obey their
husbands if tliey are ever sucli blockheads;" and then she began to
weep as bitterly as if she already saw little Sancha dead and buried.
Sancho comforted her, and promised tiiat, though be must make hoc
a countess, he would put it off as long as possible. Thus ended tbeir
dialogue, and Sancho went t« puj bis master anotber visit, in order
to conf^ on the sul)¡ect of theu oepartore.

jivert blm from bis unhappy purposes hut it was all

r „ .A the desert, and hammeriiig on cold iron. Among tbe

many dialogues which passed between them on the subieot,_the
housekeeper said to him, " Indeed, air. if you will not tarry quietW
at home, and leave off rambline over hills and dales like atrouUaa

spirit in quest of those same auventures, which I call misadventures,
1 am fully resolved to pray to Ilfiaveo and the kin* to put a Bto[i to
it." To whicli Don Qai)!ote replied: "Mistress housekeeper, v '

. jr Heaven will return to your complaints I know not, any m __

than whi^ his majesty will give you ; 1 only know that, if I wen
king, I would excuse myself from answering the infinite number of
impúlinent memorials which are daily presented to him. lodaed,
one of tbe greatest fatigues to wbicli monuichs ate subject is the
A.OOgIC

8 mecí AND BOUSES EBFBR.

" Pray, sir," said the housekeeper, "ore them no kninhts in

h¡9 majesty'B court?" "Yes, many." replied l>ün Quixote; "and
bitchlynecessarythey are to keep up toe state and dienitj' of princM."
"Would it not, then, be better, replied she, "that yonr worship
should be one of them, so tbat yon ini;2:ht quietly sene your king ana
lord at court?" "Look you, trieod," answered Don Quixote, "all
kmshta cttmiot be courtiers, neither cut, nor ought, all coortiera to
be Knights-errant. There must be some of ererysiation in the world,
uid though we are all knights, tbere is a ereat difference between
ns; for the courtier-knight traveraes the gloFmnnly on a map, without
expense or fatigue, suffering neither heat nor cold, hunger nor thrist ;
whereas the true knight- errant, etpoacd to alt the vicissitudes of the
atmosphere, b; night and by day, on foot, and on horseback, eiplorei
erery quarter of the habitatle world. Nor do we know our enemies
in picture only, hut in their proper persons, and attack tbem opon
ev(TT occasion, without standing upon trifles, or upon the laws of
duelling, such as whether oar adversary bears a shorter or longer
lance or sword— whether he ia protected by holv relics, or wears auf
secret coat of mail, or whether the sun be duly divided or not:
with other ceremonies of the same stamp, used in single combats
between man and man, which thou dost not understand, but I do.
Ajid thoa must know, farther, that the true knight-errant, thon^ be
fibould espy ten giants, whose heatis not only touch, but oTertop, the
clouds, and though each of them stalk on two prodigious towers
instead of legs, and hath arms like the mainmasts of huge and mizhtr
ships of war, and each eye like a great mill-wheel, and glowing like a
fiery fnrnace ; yet must he in no wise be affrighted, but, on the con-
trary, with ffentle demeanour and an undaunted heart, encounter,
assail, and. it possible, in an instant vanquish and rout them, althougu
tliej; should come defended by the impenetrable coat of a certain
; and, instead of swords, armed with
:el, or, as 1 have seen more Ihan once,
ime metal. All this I have said, mis-
lyst understand the difference between
er; and it were to be wished that all
lis last, or rather lirst order— 1 mean
[k times past, the bulwark not only of

niece, "be assured all the stories yon
se and lies ; and their histories deserve
rked by a Sanbenito," or some badge,
aown. " Now, by the God in whom
!te you not my own sister's dwigfater,
lof you, for the blasphemy you have
shonld resound with it. What I a
Qows how to niaiuw« a dozen of bob-
)ice in censure of the histories of
ir Amndis have sud to this P— though
e pardoned thee ; for he was the most

* A coat ofblBc1ccuiVBiTnÍntedaTerirlt:iflunnandiÍBTÍ1s. It b worn
bv lwretl& whan pAng to be bomt by otdar ol tha loqulidllBii.

, , . .A.OOgIC

liunible and most cour(«ons knight of bü time, and, noreoTer, a

-jcapett so easily; foe all are not eqnall^ gentle and courteoiu.
Neiuier axe all those who call tbeaiselves Iniigtits reall/ so : for some
are not sterÜER gold, bot base, coimterfeit atuiF, which, thongh de-
oeifing the aight, cannot stand the test of tnitb. There are low

emulate the base. While the one class rises b; ambition or fjrtne,
the other sinks b; meanness or Tice : yet is it oflcn difficalt to dis-
tb^iah between these rarieties, go alike in name, and so different in
their actions." "Bleas me, nnole!" quoth the niece, "that yon
should be so knowing:, that, if need were, ;ou might mount a pulpit
and bold forth in the streets, and yet so inñituated as to imagine
yourself valiant at tout time of life, and strong, when, alas ! yon are
K> iuGrm ; and pretend to make crooked things straight, though bent
vourself under the weight of years : and, above all, set Qp for a
Inight, when yon are no sucli thing !— some gentry may indeed nre-

begiiininE We raised and extended tbemselvee, until they bare
reached the highest pinnacle of human greatness : the second are
those of high extraction, who have preserved their original digni^ ;
the third sort are those who, from a great foundation, ba?e ^nuuaU;
dwindled, until, like a OTiamid, they terminate in a small pout. The
last, which are the most numerous class, an those who have beguB
and continued low, and who must end the same : — such are the great
mass of the people. Of the first kind we have an example in the
Ottoman family, whose founder, from the lowly rank of a shepherd,
bos attained its present he^t. Of tbe second order, examples may
be adduced from sundry hereditary princes, who peaceably govern
within the limits of their own donumons without seeking to enlarge
or contract them. Of those who began great, and have ended in a

Kint, there are thousands of inatances; for itH the Pharaohs and
olemies of Egypt, the Cosars of Rome, with all that infinite hnd
(it I may so call them) of princes, monarchs, and lords, tbe Hedes,
Assyrians, Qieeks. Fenians, and Barbariana— I say, all these fiimiliea
■nd states, as weH as their founders, have ended m a point— that ia,
in nothing ; for it is impossible now to find any of theu descendants,
and, if thev were in eiistenoe, it would be in some low and aUect
station. Of the lower race I have nothing to say, only that they
Krre to swell the number of the living, without deserving any otfaar
fame or eul<«y. From all that I have said you must dearly see, my
good simpletons, that genealogies are involved in endless confusion,
and that those only are illnatrious and great who are distinguished by
tiieb: virtue and liberality, as well as their riches : for the great man
who Ú vicious, is only a great sinner; and the rich man who wants
Ubentlityii bat a miserly pauper. The gratification which wealth
ran heaMw is not ia mere poasesáon, nor in lavishing it wiUi prodi-

HIS MAeNABlUOUB &ESOLTZ. 90S

gilitr, Init in the wise applicBtlon of it. The poor knisTit can onlj
manifest his rojiL by !ib virtues &nd general conduct, lie most be
well-bred, courtcoua, kind, and obÜRÍnít : not proud, nor arrogant, no
murinurer; above all he must be cliariUble, wid by t»o maravedig
nTen cbecrfully to tne poor be siiail display an much generosity as
the rich man nho bestovg Urge alina by souod of bell. Of aoclt a
man no one would doubt his honourable desccot, and general applause
will be the sure reward of Ilia virtue. There arc two roa<&, mj
daughters, by which men mav attain ricbea aod honour : the one b;
letters, t!ie others by arms. 1 have more in me of the soldier than
of the scholar ; and it is evident, from my proiicnsity to arma, that I
was bom under the influence of the planet Uurs ; £0 that I am, as it
were, forced into that track, and must fuliuw it in spite of Ibe whole
world. Your endeavours, therefore, will be fruitless, in dissuading
mc from tliat which Heaven wills, fate ordains, reaaoo demands, uid
above all. that to which my inclinations irresistihlv impel me. Welt
1 know tne innumetahle toils of kui/(ht-errantry ; but I koow abo its
lioiionrand reward,. The path of virtue is narrow, while tbalof rioe
is easy and broad ; and equally different arc the points to which they
lead: the one to life etnmal, the other to ignominy and death. I
know, aa oui great Castilian poet expresses it, that —

Tbrougb tbeae rough patbs, to gain a gtorlom nomc^
Wa cluub tiie stacp asaent that latda to tarns ;

"Ab, woe is me!" quoth the niece; "my uncle » poet too! Ho
h)OWE evcrjtliing; nothing comes amiss to him! I will lay a wager
tbat. if he had a mind to turn mason, be could build a house with as
muck ease as a bird-cage!" "lassure thee, niece," answered Don
Quixote, " that were not my whole soul engrossed by the ardnous
duties of chivalry. I would engage to do anything ¡—there is not a
enrióos art whicli I would not acquire ; especially that of making
bird-cages and tooth-picks."

A knocking at the door was now heard, and findios, npon inquiry.
that it was Sancho Panza, the housekeeper, to avoid the sight oi
him whom she abhorred, ran to hide herself while the niece let him
in. His master Don Quixote recrived him with open arms, and,
being closeted together, a conversation ensued, not ¡ufciior to the

CHAPTER YIL

(ff tAat patud Utaitn Don QitizoU an<l hi* igtire, vUh oAtr remorlalU

As soon as the housekeeper saw that Sancho and her master were
shut up together, she suspected the drift of their confiTcnce; and
doubting not but tliat another uofortonate expedition would be the
result, she put on her veil and set off, full of trouble and anxiety, to
seek tAe bachelor Sampson Carrasco : thinking that as he was a well-

A.OOgIC

sos DOS QCIXOTE,

Solicm person, and a new aoqaaiatanoe of ber muter, lie migbt 'ht
le to dissuade bim from ao estravaftant a project. SLe found tira
walkiiifi to and fro in the courtyard of hia bouse, and slio immedi-
ately fell down on her knees before him. The bachelor seeing her in
this situation, and that she vas apparentlj suffering under some heavy
aÉiictíoii, said to her, " What is tne matter, mistress houseke^Hir i
What has befallen you, that you seem rcadv to give up the ghost F "
" Nothiug at all, dear sir," quoth she, " only that my master is most
certainly ore aking forth. How_ breaking forth, mistress f " de-
manded Sampson ; "has he burst in any part of his body?" "No,
but In is br^tking forth into bis old madaess, sipioi bachelor," she
replied; "he is surely in the mind to be strolling ngain about the
wide world for the third time, in scorch of adventurt!^ as he calls
them. The first time, he was brought home to us kid athwart an
ass, all battered and bruised. The second time he returned in aa
ox-wngKon, locked up in a cage, and so chan,:;ed, poor sou], that hti
own mother would not have known him; so feeble, wan, and withered,
and his eyes sunk into the farthest comer of his brains, insomudi
that it took me above aii hundred eggs to get him a Lttle up acaia,
as Heaven and the worid is my witness, and my hens, tliat will not
let me lie." "lean eaailr believe liiat," answered the baclielorí
" for your hens are too well bred and fed to s&y one thing and me«i.
another. Then these apprehensions for your master are the whole
and sole cause of your trouble, are they, Mrs. Housekeeper ?" "Yes,
sir," answered she. "Be in no pain then," replied the bachelor. " but

Ehome in Heaven's name, and get me something warm for break-
it, and on your way repeat the prayer of St. Apollonia, if you know
it; I will be with you instantly, and you shall see wonders. "Blesa
me!" replied the housekeeper, "the prayer of Bt. Apollonia^ sa/
you F that might do something if mr master's distemper laid la lus
gums: but alas! it is all in his brain. "I know what I say, mistress
housekeeper^" replied Sampson; "get yon home, and do Bat stand
.disputing with me; for you know J am a Salamanca» bachelor of
Bits, and there is no hacheloriaing beyond that." Then away went
the housekeeper home, while the biachelor repaired to tlie priest, witll
whom he held a consultation, the issue of which will come out in
due time.

During the interview between Don Quixote and Sancho, some coo-
TsisatioQ took place, which the historv relates at large with great
accuracy and truth. "I have now, tit, qnoth Sancho to his master,
"lelaced my wife to consent that I should go with your worship
wherever you phsase to carry me." " Bedueed, thou shouldst say,
Sancho," said DonQuiiote, and not 'rcluced.' " "Once or twica
already," answered Sancho, " I have besou^t yoar worship not to
mind my words, when you know rnTrneaning; and when ^ou do ootv
ssy, Sancho, or devil, I understand thee not; and then if I do not
explain mvself, you may correct m^ for I am so focile," — "I do not
understand thee now. Suiciio," said Don Quixote ; " for I tnow not
the meaning of ' focile.' " "Sofocile," answered Sancho, "means,
1 am so much so." " I understand llice still less now," replied Don
Quixote. " Wbj, if you do not understand me," answcied Sancho,
I cannot help it; 1 know no more, so Heaven help me!" "O!
now 1 have it, answered Don Quixote, " thou wilt say that thon art
«o docile, so pliant, and »

bahcho tjn> xhi xkioht. 307

hend whiifever I saj, «id wilt leam whafevar I shall teach thee."
" I will lay » wager," quoth Sancho, " jou took me from the lirat,
oolj yoa had a mind to puzzle me, that yon raifcbt hear some moK of
my biunders." "Perhaps thou majest be riprht there," answered
Dot Quhtote ; "but tell me, what says Teresa?" "Teresa," quoth
Sanchi, " says that fast hind, fast find, and tliat we must have less
talltina, and more doing ; for he who shuflea is not he who cots, and,
'abira in the hand is worth two ia the bnah;' and Isay, ¿lOUgh
there is but iittle in woman's adrice, yet he that won't take it ia not
over wise." "I say so too," replied Don Quixote; "proceed,
Sancho, for thou taikest admirably to-day." The ease i» this,"
replied Baneho, "that, as your worship very well knows, we are alt
mortal — here to-day, and gone to-morrow ; that the lamb goes to tho
spit as soon as the sneep; and that nobody can promise himself lon^er
life than God pleases ; for when death knocks at the door, he turns a
deaf ear to all excuses— nothing can stay him, neither force, nor
entreaties, nor sceptres, nor mitres ; for so it is said both in the street
and in the pulpit. " All this ia true, said Don Quísote, " but 1 do
not perceive what thon wouldst he at." "What I would be at,"
(inotn Sanido, " ia that your worship woald be pleased to allow me
wages — so much a month, aa long as I shall serve yon, and that, in
case of need, the same may be poia out of your estate : for I have no
mind to trust to rewards, which may come late or nerer ; Heaven
help me with my own, which I would be glad to know, be it little or
much : iot the hen sits, if it be hot upon one egg: and many littles
make a mickle, and while something is getting, nothiiK is losing. In
good Irnth, should it &11 ont that your worship should give me that
«ame islana you have promised me (bnt which I am afraid will never
come), I would not wish to make a bard bargain, but am willine that
BIT wages should be deducted from the rent of snch island fairly,
canttty for caatity." " Is not ' quantity ' as good as ' cantity.' friend
Sancho?" answered Don Quixote. I understand foxt, qnoth
Sancho ; " I sunpose now, I should have said ' quantity,' and not
'cantity,' bnt that signifies nothin^i', since yonr worfihip knew my
meaning." "Yes, and to the very bottom of it," retomed Don
Quixote. "I plainly see the mark at which thou art Welling all thy
proverbs ; but near me, Sancho : I should have no objeetioD to appoint
thee wages hod I ever met with any example among the hist<ñies of
knights-errant that showed the least glimmering of an;^ soch monthly
or yearly stipend. I have read ail, or most of toosc histories, and do
not remember ever to have read that any knight-errant allowed his
eqnire fixed wages; on the contrary, they all serred upon eoortesy:
and when least expectbg it, if their masters were fortunate, they
were rewarded wrth an isiand, or somethinj equal to it ; at all events
tíiey were certain of title and rank. If, Sancho, upon the strength
of these expectations, thon art willing to return fo my service, in
Heaven's name do so ; but thou art mistaken if thou hast any hope
that I shall act in opposition to the ancient nsages of cMv^l^.
iteturn home, therefore, Sancho, and inform thy wife of my deter-
mination ; ana if she is wiHing and thon art dispcáed to stay with me
upon the terms 1 mentioned— inw quidem ; if not, we will at least
part friends ; for if the dove-house wanta not bait, ft will never want

e'iteons ; and take notice, boil that a good reversion is bettor than a
id poasossioD, and a good claim better tíutn bad pay. I talk tlnu,
l2 r , . A.OO'^k'

nhi3

, __.e diíigen^ aod at the mme time, less taJlíative and

selfish than tbou art."

On hearing this fined resolntion, the hopes of Sancho were orer-
clonded, and his heart sunk within him ; lor hitherto he h»d nerer
supnosal .it possible that his master would ifo without him for the
world's worth ; and as he was standmg thouRhtful and dejected,
SampEWi Carrasco entered the chamber, followed by ihe nic<« and
houBokeeper, who were cnrioua to hear what arguments he would use
to dissuade the kni^t from his tlireatened expedition. The waggish
bachelor approached him with sreat respect, and after embtacini
him, said, in an elevated tone, 0 flower of kn^t-errantrr ! O
resplendent lijj:ht of arms! O mirror and ^orjr of the Spanbh
nation ! Mar it please Heaven that all those who shall seek to pre-
Tent oc impede your third sallj be lost in the labyrinth of their own
wiles, nor ever accomplisb their evil desire ! " Then turning to the
housekeeper, he said ; " Now, mistress housekeeper, jou mar save
jourself ibe trouble of saying the ¡«ajer of Ht. Apollonia ; for I know
that it is the positive determination of the stars that Signor Don
Quixote sball resume his glorióos career, and I should greatly hnrthen
mj cunscienee did 1 not ^ve intimation thereof, and persuade this
knight no longer to restrain the force of his valorous arm, nor cheek
the virtuous ardour of his son!, since by delay he defrauds the
injnred world of rtdresi, orphans of protection, damsels of deliverance,
widows of relief, and matrons of support, with other matters of this
nature, dependent on knizht-errantry. Go on then, dear signor UoD
Quísote, my brave and gulant kni^t ! lose no time, but set forward
rather to-day than to-morrow: and if uiythii^ be wanting to hasten
the eiecution of jtinr design, nere am 1, ready lo assist yon with my
life and fortune; if your eiceUencv stand in need of a squire, I ahafi
esteem myself singularly fortunate in having the honour to serve yon
in tiiat capacity." " Did I not tell thee," said Don Quixote, turning
to Sancho, " that I should be in no want of squires ? Behold who
now offers himself ! The renowned bachelor Sampson Carrasco, the
darling and delight of the Salamancan schools ! sound and active of
body, patient ol heat and oold, of hunger end thirst, no prater — in
short, possessing all the qualifloitions requisite in the squire of k
knighterrant f But Heaven forbid that, to patify my own private
inchnation, I should endan^r this pillar of literature, this nm of
genius, and lop off so flounshii^ a branch of the noble and liberal -
arts. Ho, let our new Sampson abide in his country, and do honour
to the grey hairs of his venerable parents, by becoming its ornament.
I will be content with any squire, since Sancho deigns not to accom-
pany me." " I do deign," quoth Sancho, with eves swimming in
lear| ; " it shall never be said of me, dear master, ' the bread eaten,
the company broke up.' I am not Come of an ungrateful stock: for
all the world knows, especially our village, who the Panzas were, that
have gone before me, Besiaes. I know, by many good works and
better words, your worship's inclination to do me a Kindness ; and if
T have said too much upon the article of wages, it was to please my
wife, who, when onee she sets about persuading one to a thing, do

A.oo.;ic

roa unxD sallt.

__ji must be a man, and a woman a woman ;

elsewhere, I will liao be one in mj own bouse, in spite of onirbodjr :
so your worship hai nothing to do bot to look after vour wjil and I's
codicil, in such manner as it cannot be rebuked ; and let us set out
irmnedialcly, that the soul of Signer Sampson may be at rest, as he

— ,, - - .— , -_- .—T served

knight-vrnuit iu past or ¡iresent limes."

Hie baclielor Lstened in admiration to Sancho, for tbovgh he had
lead the first part of the history, he had hardlj oonceired it possible
that he should reallsbe bo pleasatitafellow as he is therein dcscribwl;
but now heoould believe all that had been said of him ; in short, be set
down both the master and man as the most eitranrdinary oonple the
world bud ever j-et produced. Don Quixote and Sancho beii^ now
perfectly reconciled, they arrecd. with the approbation of the great
Cbrbsco, their oracle, t<} deptui within three days, in which time
they nufpit have leisure to provide what was necessary for the expe-
dition, úid especially a complete helmet, which Don Quixote declared
to be lodispensable. Sampson enframed to procure one from a friend,
who he was aure woold not refuse it ; though he confessed the bright-
ness of the steel was cot a little obsoored hy tarnish and rust. The
niece a&d housekeeper, on bearing this determination, made a wdeful
oubn-y. invcigbing oitterly agaiñát Carraso, who had been acting

C^cabty to a plan previously coDceTt«d with the ¡jriest and barber.
y tore their hair, sor^4^ed and disScnred their faces, like the
funeral ntoumera * of fonner times, and lamented the approaching
depjitiire of their matter as if it were hi» death.

Three days were now employed io preparation, «t the wid of which
time Sancho bavinf appeased his wife, and Don Quixote his niece
and housekeeper, they usued forth m the evening, unobserved hy any
acept the bachelor, who insisted on beahof them company half S
leairoe from the vill^e. The knight was mounted on his good Rozi-
uante, and the squire en his trusty Dapple, his wallets stored with
food, and bb purse with mmey, providentially supplied by his master
in caae of need. When Sarapaon took his leave, he expressed an
earnest desire to have advice of bis good or ill fortune, that he miaht
r^oice or condole with him, aa the laws of friendship required. Don
QmioU having promised to comply with this request, the bachelor
Ktnnied to lAe village, and the kuibt and squire pursned their way
towards tíie great úty of Toboso.

* It WBi (brmsriy the (nutran to hire tluas moumers oi
bmeDCoTCrthstKx^oftli ~

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTEE TUt

u gimg lo *ú>l ¡nil

" Blbsbes be the núghtj All*!" exoUinu Cid Hunet Seneaeeli, at
Üie b^inning of this eighth ob^)teT, "bleurdbeAlh I "thrice utter-
ing these i^oua ejacsilatioiu, upon aeciiig Don Quixote and Bancto
ftgiiu take field; and he addá, that Jjom «iia iwint the T«»dcn of thie
delishtfal \asUxj maj; Mckon that the exi^oits and pleasantriea of
t^ knight Hud hia aquire will reoonmeuce, aad he entráu* then to '-

their attention onlv on the future achieretnents of the sreat adveit-
turer, which now begia upon the ra>d to Toboso, as did the foimet
in tiie plain of Monbel. Nor, indeed, ia this an; far; uureasouahle
nqnesl oonsidenng what great things he proauNo. And thua be

BooQui

Sampson Oiuiicu uieai wueu jumiuuiiv uoi^nu vj usi^a, ulu i/m^n

to mj, which both knight and s(|uiie retarded as a good omen. It
moat be eonfessed that the anorting and brajinR of Dapple exceeded
tJK ueighingB of the at«ed; whence Sancho gathered that his good
luck w

as the historj is silent in that paitiou , ^ . — —

to saj, when he happened to fall or stumble, that he wished he b:
not gone oat that da;, for nothing was to be got bj stumblinit or
falling bnt a torn shoe or a broken rib; wherein, although asimplctt»!,
be was not far out of the war,

" IViend Sancho " said Don Quixote to his squire, " the night
comes on apace, anu it will be dark before we reach Toboso, whither
I am resolved tt go before 1 undertake auj other adventure. There
will I receive the farewell benedictiou of the peerless Dulcinea, bf
which 1 shall secure the happy accomplishment of every perilom
enterprise; for nollung in this life inspires a knight -errant with so
much valour as the favour of his mistreas." " 1 believe it," answered
Sancho ; " but I am of opinion it will be difflcult for jour worship to
speak with her alone — at least in an; place where ;ou m&f receive her
benediction ; unless she tosses it over the pales of the ^ard where I
saw her last, when I carried her the letter that gave an account of the
pranks jour worship was playiuj; on the mountain." " Didst tbov
conceive Ihose to be pales. Sencho," qaolb Don Quiiote. " over
which thou didst behold that paragon of gentihty and beauty?
Impossible ! Thou timst mean gaUeries, arcades, or cloiaters, of some
rich and royal palace." "AUthatniay be," answered Sancho; "but,
it I do not loriKt, to me they seemed pales, or I have a very shallow
memory." "However, let us (to thither, Sancho," said Don Quixote ;
" for, so I but gaze on ner. be it through pales, the chinks lA a hut,
or lattice window, the smallest ray from the bright sun of her beauty
will Mon enlisten my understanding, and fortify my heart, tliat I

A.OOgIC

THE FOVXB at

shall remain without a riral either in nradeaoe or valtnit." " In
truth, sir," answered Sanolio, " when 1 saw this sun of the lady
Dolemea del Toboso, it was not bright enough to cxst forth anj
beams, owing, I take it, to the dust from the grain whieh, I told you,
her laayship was winnowing, and whicli overcast her face lite a
clond." "What, Sancho!" said Don Quixote, " dost thou persist in
Baying and believing that my bdy Dulcinea was winuowing wheat —
an Mnplojaient so unsuitable to persons of distinction, who are
devoted to other fiTercises and amosements more becoming their
elevated station f It seems thon dost not remember, Sancho, our
poet's ierses, in which he describes the Ubonrs of the four nvmplis in
iheir crystal niansions, when they raised their heads atore tha
dcüghtful Ta^, and seat«d themselves on the verdaut mead to
work those nch stuffs which, as described by the ingenious bard,
were all embroidered with gold, silk, and peería. And thus my lady
mast hare been employed whrá Ihon sawest her; but the envy ta
some willed enchanter changes and transforma everythiDg that should
gíreme pleasure; ajid, tlierefore, should the an thor of that history of
me which is said to be published, be some enemy of mine, he may, I
foar, bave been very inaccurate, minghng a thousand lies with a single
truth, and dii^ressmg into idle tales unworthy of true and (^entuna
bistory. O envy ! thou toot of infinite evib, and canker-worm of
Tittnes ! There is no other vice, Sancho, whidi has not some objeet
of pleaauTE to excuse it ; but envy is attended only with nothing but
íi(¿Tist, malice, and raneonr." " That is what I say, too," replied
Bancho: " and 1 take it for granted, in that same legend or history
which the bachelor Carraseo tells ns he has seen, my reputation is
tossed aboot like a tennis-ball. Now, as I am an honest man, I never
spoke ill of any enchanter, nor have I wealth enough to he envicd-
It may be true, indeed, what they say, that I am somewhat sly, and a
little inclined to roguish tricks ; but then I was always reckoned more
simple than knavish . Besides, these same bistorians ourIiI to spare mo
a little, if I liad notliing else in me bat my religion, for 1 am a true
Catholic, and hase » mortal hatred to the Jews. But let them say '
what they wiU ; naked I came, and naked must go. I neither lose
nor «in: and so my name be but in print, and go about the world
merrily from hand to hand, not a fig shall I cate ; they may say of me
wbaterer they list."

" You remind me, Sancho," said Don Qnixote, "of what happened to
a famons poet of our own times, who wrote an abusive satire upon the
ladies of tbe court ; but, not having expressly named a certain female
of rank, so that it was donbtfut whether she was included in it or not,
she took occasion to reproach him for the omission, and desired to
know what he had seen in her that she was to he excluded, and com-
manded bim, at his peril, to enlarge his satire, and introduce her in the
supplement. The poet acquiesced, and did not spare her character ;
but the lady, in order to be famous, was well content to be infamous.
^lie same kind of ambition was thai of the shepherd who set firs to
the temple of Diana, acconnted one of the seven wonders of the
worid, only that his name might Iits in ftiture ages ; and though, in
order to defeat his purpose, it was commanded by public edict that
his name should never oe mentioned either in sjieech or writing, yet
, it is known to have been Erostatus. A parallel instance is that whidi
happened to the great emperor Charles the i'ifth, when he vent to
, , . .A.OOgIC

SIS DON qCIXOTB.

look over ilie famons church of the Eolunda, vhidi. br the uuñent^
iras called the Fantiieon, or temple of all the goda. Init nov by »
better name —the church of all aainta. It ia the ooly entire edilioe
remainÍDg of heatben Home, acd one of the most considerable records
of the greatness imd miigiiihc«nceorthat citj. It is circukrio form,
spacious, and very light within, though it has bat one windoir. bong-
& circular opening at ihe top, tlirou^Thich the emperor looked down
'- -■ — ''-e iolerior of the struclure. He was attended by a Roman

knisht, wbo pointed out to him all the beauties of ttiat m
andiifler they bad dca(«nded from the skTiifrht, the kniglit said to
' Sacred sir, a tliousand times 1 felt indined to cUsp jODt

,..,' answered the enijieror, for not mdiügúig: your asibitioas
thoughts upon this oocaaion, aiid shall take care in future that year
loyalty be not exposed to so severe < trial, and therefore command
jou never to let tds see you i^jain.' He then diamiased him, bnt not
without a princely tokeaof hisfceiieroaity. Tiiia love of tame, Seochc^
b a very active principle within ns. What, Ihiokest tbou, cast
Horatius down from the bridge, armed at all points, into the 'Hber t
What burnt tbe arm and bond of Mutius P >Vbat ioipclled Cmrtiiu
to throw himself into the flaming gulf that opened itself in the midst
of RomeF What n^ade Ciesar pasa the !^bicon in opposition to
every presage? Whut made the valiant Spaniards, under the oonrte-
ous and intrepid Cortes, destroy tbeir ships on tbe shores of a new
world? These and a uiultitude of other great exploits, were tiw
effects of that nnquenclukblc thirst after distit)ctiaQ— that tame which
mortals aspire to, as the only meet recompense of great and gloiiooB
deeds. Though we, who are Catholic Christian kmghts-crrant, ought
to fix our hopes outbat higher reward placed in the celestial and eter-
nal regions, which is liappraeijs perfect and everlasting ; unlike that
Bhadow of glory which, oeing only of this world, most perish with it.
Since then we seek a Christian reward, O my Sancho, let our works
be conformable to thereligionwc profess. la skying gianta we most
destroy pride and arrogance ; we must vanquish envy oy generosity;

tance and vitnlaooe ; boeotionaneas, W <J>aBtity snd inviolable fiddly
tolheaoTcteignmistreasesof out hearts; indolence, by traveraing ths
W01I4. in aearoh of every b^ourable opportuiity of obtaining renown
aa knisbta and Christiús. Such, Sanebo, aie uie meuis by which we
mast gain that applaose which is the reward of exalted merit." "I
nnderstaud very weU what your worship has been saying," quotb
Sancho ; " but, for all tbat, I wish yon would be so kind as to diñolvs
roe one doubt which has just come into my bead." " ReHolve, thorn
wonldat say, Sancho," said Don Quixote: "declare 't, in Ueavsn'a
name, and I will satisfy thee as iar as I am able." "Pray tdl mc^
air," proceeded Sancho, " those Julys or Augusts, and all tkoM
mighty heroes you spoke of, who are dead — where ore they now t"
'"The Gentiles 'answered Bon Quixote, "are doubtless in bell ¡ the
Christians, if they were eood Christians, are either in pnrgatca? or in
heaven." "Very well, Quoth Sanchoj "but pray, sir, tell me
whether the sepiuohres in wbich the bodies of those great lords lie
interred have silver lamps burning before them, and whether the walls
of their chapels are adomed with crutches, windiog-slieeti, old

, , . .A.OOgIC

tíSCBtfa QQUHCniB.

Adríani, a -., ^ ^

her husband ilniísolua in a tomb which was numbered amoDfr the
•even wonders of tlie worid ; but neither these, nor any other of the
numerous sepulchres of the Q«ntiles, vere decorated with winding-
■beets, or an; otiier offering or .signs, intended to denote the holiuess
of the dccc^ed." " 'ri)at is what I am comtni; to," rephed Saucho-
"and now ptay tell me which b the most difficult, to raise a deaa
nan to life, or to slay a mantP" "The answer i* verj obvious,"
answered iW Quixote; to raise a dead man?' "There I have
cauglitjou I" quoth Sancho. "Then his fame who raises the dead,
gires si^lit to the blind, makes the lame walk, and curca the sick ;
who has lamps baming near his grave, and good Christians always ia
his chapels, adoring his relics upon their knees— his fame. I say, shall
be greater, both in this world and the next, than that which all the
heathen emperors and kni^hta-errant in the world e¥er had or evar
■hall haie. '' I ([rant it," «iswered Vkm Quiiote. " Then," replied
Sandro, "the bodies and relices of samts hare this power, and Rrace,
and these privilege*, or how do 70U call them, and with the license of
onr holy Bother church hare their lampe, winding-sheets, crutches,
liictnres, perukes, eyes^ and legs, wherebj' they increue people's dero-
tion, and spread abroad tiieir own Christian fame. Kinffs tfaemselTea
ovry the bodies or relics of saints upon their shooldera, kiss the frag-
ments of their bones, and adorn their cbapels and ¡aott favourite altars
with them." " GerUunly, but what wouldst tbou infer from all this,
Sancho?" qaothDoQ Quixote. "WhatlineMi,"aaidSaDcha, "is, that
we had better turn saints immediately, and we shall then soon get
that foraeweare seeking after. And pray take notioe, air, that it was
but yesterday — I mean very lately — a conple of poor barefooted frian
were ouanised, and people now reckon it a greater happmess t^i touch
or kiss the iron chains that boimd them, and which are now held in
neater veneration than Orkndo's sword in the annoury of our lord
the king, Heaven save him ; so that it is better to be a poor friar, of
the meanest order, than the bravest knight-errant ; beeansc four dozen
of good penitent lathes are more esteemed in the sight of Ood than
two thousand tilts with a lance, tJioush it be againsf giants, goblins,
<w dragons." "I confess," answered Don Quixote, "mi thb is true;
bat we cannot all be friar* ; and many and various are the ways by
which God conducts His elect to heaven. Chivalry is a kind of religi-
ous mofession ; and some knights are DOW saints in glorj." " True,"
qnotD Sancho ; " but I have heard sav there are mote fnm in heaven
than knigfats-errant." "It may wril be so," replied Don Quixote.
" because their number is much greater thui that of knights-errant.
"And yet," quoth Sancho, "there «re abundanoe of the errant sort."
"¿bandance, indeed," ansmted Don Quixote : " but few who deserve
the name of knighb.*'

Jd this aod Úie like oonversation tbey passed that night and the

tóüowiag dsf , without baring encountered mything worth letaünfb

, , . .A.OOgIC

su noa QTixorz.

to the no little mortiflcatdm of Don Quixote: but tbo unt dat tibcr
came in view of the great city of Toboso, at the sicrht of whieb Drai
Qiiixote's spirits were much elevated, and those of Sancho as much
dejected ; because he kuetr not tbe abode of Duleinea, nor bad he ever
seen her in his Hfe, any more than his mait«r. Thus both were ia a
state of suffering, the otie anxious to see her, and the other auxioua
becanae he had notasen her; for Sancho knew not what he should do
in case his master ahould despstoh him to the citv. Don QuiioM
having determined not to enter it until ni^tfatl, ne waited ia tbe
mean time nuder the shade of some oak-trees ; and then proceeded-
towards tbe city, where things befel them that were thi:^ mdecd I

CHAPTER II.
Wkieh rdalm niat itUt it fiwtd thrrei».

It was late at niditwfaeD I><m Quixote and Sancho left their Te>
treat and entered Toboeo. All the town was hndied in silence : fc»
its inhabitants wen sound asleep, stmtched out at their ease. The
nigbt was clear, though Sancho wished it were otherwise, having
ocoasi<Hi for its darkneaa te conoeal his prevaricatiocs. No noise
was heard in any part save the barkii^ of dogs, vhicb annoyed tbe
ears oi Don QuixiÁe, and dÍ94jaid«d Sancho's heart. Nov aud then,
it is true, asaes brayed, swine f;TOQted, and cats mewed— «ounds
which seemed lo be augmented by the absence of every other noise.
All these circumstances the enamoured knight re^carded as boding ilL
Nevertheless, he said to his squire: "Son Sandio, lead on toDul-
cinea's i>alace ; for it is possible we may ñnd her awale." " To triiat
palace? Bod^ of the sun I" answered Sancho, "that in which 1 eaw
her higliness was but a little mean house." "It was, 1 suppose,
some small apartment of her castle which she had retired to. saia
the knight, " to amuse herself with her damsels, as is usnal with great
ladies aad princesses." " Sinoe your worship, quoth Saucl», "will
needs have my lady DulciueH's house to be a castle, ia this an nonr to
find the unites open P and is it At that we should stand thundering at
them till ihcy open and let ns io, pnttintc the whole house in an up-
roar?" " i'irst, however, let ns find this castle," replied Dmi
Qoixote, " and then I will tell thee how it is proper to sot ; but look,
Sancho — either my eyes deceive me, or that huge dark pile we sea
yonder must be Dulcinea's palace." " Then, lead on yourself, sir,"
answered Sancho ; " perhaps it may be so ; though, if 1 were to see
it with my eyes, and touch it with my hands, 1 wdl believe it just as
much as that it is now day."

Don Quixote led the way, and, havñ^ gone about two huadred
pu^es, be came up to the edifioe which east the dark shade, and, per-
ceiving a largo tower, he soon found that the bnildii^ was do palace,
but the principal church of the place : whereupon he said, " We are
come to the church, Sancho." "1 see we are," answared Suicho;
" and pray Heaven we be not come to our graves ; for it is no very
good sign to be rambling about dmiohyaids at such hours, and e^e-

A.OOgIC

cñlly «nice I hate ■bead; told jonr Tonliih if I rMnember right,
that this Bsme lady's bouw stands in a blind alley." " God's curse
light on thee, blockhead ! " said the knight - " where hast thoa ever
fowid eaitles and royal palaoeaboik in blind alleys F" "Sir," replied
Sancho, "each counb? uas its custcHns; so perfaapa it is the fasliion,
boM in Toboso, to build jonr p^aoes and great edifices in aUeya : and,
therafope, 1 beseech your worship lo let me look about among these
lanea or allejs just before me ; and perhaps in one nook or other I
niaj^P*VOD this same psJace ; whuiit I wish I may seedevaiired.br
dgg^ for puixUiig and bewildering ns at this rate." "Speak wit¿
more leneot, Saacho, of what regard* my lady," said Don Quixote ;
" let as keep our holidaj» in peace, and not throw the rope after the
backet." Iwill oturb myself," amwered Sancho; "but I cannot .
bear to think, that though I have ween oar mistress's house but once,
TOOT worabip «ill needs have me find it at midnisht, irhea you cannot
find it yourself, though you nust have aeen it Uiousaads of times ! "
" Thou wilt make we desperate. Sancho," qaoth Don Quixote ; " owne
hither, heretic; have I not told thee a thousand times that I ncTer
■aw the peerless Dulcinea in the whole ooursa of mj life, nor ever
stepped over Üte threshold of her palace, and that I am enamoured
by report alone, and the great fame of her wit and beautyp" "I
hear it now," amwered Suieho; "aad to tell jod the truth, I have
seenhor just as much «a your worship." "How can that be?" cried
Don Quixote; "didst thou not l«ll me that thon sawest her win.
nowing wheat?" "lake no heed of that, sir," replied the squire;
"for the fact is, her messajfc, and the sight of her too, were both by
hearsay ; and I can no more tell who the lady Dulcinea is than I can
boSet the mooo," " Sanaho, Sancho," answered Don Quixote,
" there is a time to jest, and a time when jests are unseasonable.
TVhat, becanse I say th^ I nerer saw nor spoke to the mistress of
my BouL must tbou say. so likewise, when thou knowest it to be
untrue?

Their conversation was here mtemipted by tlie approach of a man
with two mules; and by the sound of a pboghshare which they
dragged along the ground, our travellen rigtitly guessed that he was
a husbandnuuL An be eame near, they heard him singing the ballad
of the defeat of the IVench at Bonocsralles ; upon wbicti Don Qmxote
obaerfed, "No good fortune to-niglit Sancho— dost iJiou not hear
what that peasant is singing?" "les, I do," answered Sancho;
"but what is the deleat of Boncesralles to ns? If ho had been
siagincr the halhd of Calaínos, it would have had ¡list as inuoh to do
with the good or bad ending of our businesa." The couutry fellow
having now come up to them, Don Quixote said to him, " Good-
morrow, honest frieud; oanat thoa direct me to the paloee of the
peerless princess, Douna Daloinea del Toboso t" " Sir," answered
the fellow, " I am a stranger here ; for I have been but a few days in
the service of a farmer of this town. But the parish priest, or the
sexton, who live in yonder house, across the roa^ can either of them

E'w) your worship an account of that same lady princess ; for ther
1^ a register of all the inhabitants of Toboso; not that Itliink
there is any princess Kring here, though there are several great
ladies, that may every one be a princess in her own house." "Among
Uioae, friend," said Don Quixote, "maybe her for whom lam inquir'
iag." " Mot unlikely," answered the ploughman, " aad so Heaven

A.OOgIC

S16 DOK QDaOTB.

speed rem; for it will soon bedsybreak." Then joickine on hi*

mules, ae waited for no more questions.

Sancho seeing bis muter perplexed and diwotisflad, said to him:
" Sir, the iiny comes on apace, aud we ftbaU go«i have the sun upoa
U9, which will not be very pleasant in the Btrcets : bo I think we had
better get out of this pLice, and, while your worship takes shelter io
some wood hereabouts, I will return and leaiievot a corner in all tbe
town imsearchad, fur this house, casUc, or palace of my lady ; and it
shall go liard with me but I find it; and as soon as I have done so, I
will speak to her ladyship, and l«ll W where ytmi worship ia waitiag
for ber orders and directions how you may sec her without damafra to
her honour and reputation." " Sancho, qsotli Don Quiiotc, " thou
hast uttered a tluMisaud seotenoes in the cocapnsa of a few words.
Thy counsel I relish much, and shall most willio^ly follow it. Come
on, son, and let us seek for some aheiter ; then ebait thou return and
seek out my lady, from whose discretion a&d courtesy I eipoct more
than miraculous favours." Sancho was impatient till he got bis
master out of the town, lest his lies should be detected : he tiierefom
hastened on as fast as possible, and when they had got about 1i»
distance of two miles, tlic luught retired into a shady ^ve, white
the squire returned in quest of the lady Dulcinea; on which embassy
things occurred well wortJiy «f credit wd lenevea atHation.

CHAPTER X.

EsrssssiKO- on appiehe&aion that tíie contents of the prasent
chapter would not be beUeved, the auUtor of this giaad history s^s
he felt much inclined to snppress it, because the knigbt's trensy
appears herein to be carried to an excess beyond all conoepticn. Not-
withstanding this diffidence be has, however, detailed the whole truth,
without addmg or diminishing, determined not to rt^ard any donbta
that might be entertained of nis Teracity : and he was in the righ^
for tralh will ever rise abeve .falsehood, hke oil abore water : ht
proceeds, therefore, as follows.

Don Quiiotc having retired ¡ato a grove near the city of Toboaiv
despatched Sancho, with orders not to return into his presence till bo
had spoken to his lady, beseeching her that she would be pleased to
grant her captive kmgbt permission to wait upon her, and that aha
would deign to bestow on him her beoedidion, whereby he might
secure complete success in all his encounters and arduous enteiprisDB.
Sancho promised to execute his commands, and to return with an
answer no less favourable than that which he had fonnerly brought
him. "Go, then, sou," repUed Don Quixote, "and be not inoonfo.-
sion when, thou standeet in the blaze of that sun of beauty. Hi^py
thou above all the squires in the world! Deeply impress on thy
memory the particulars of thy reception — whether she chanfles oohmr
while thou art deliyeriug thy embaaij, and betraya agitatiou «■
, , . .A.OOgIC

SAHCHO'S aOLILOqVT.

nwk whether she is jkA obli^ to sustain herself someliines upon
ooe foot and sometimes upon the other; whether she repeats Tier
«nswRT to thee three or four times ; whether she diaages it from soft
to hsrsh, from hnrsh to soft again ; whether she raises her hand to

■djuBt her hair, though it be not disordered— ^in short, obserre all her
" '" ' '' ' ' an aoeurate detail of them I shall be

B seeret recesses of her heart, toiiehtng

thesthiroj .. .._ ., ._

not already, tnat'witb lovers the external actions and (restur__ ....
cooriers, wliich bear authentic tidings of what is pasain;; in the inte-
rior of the Boul. Go, friend, and may better fortune thhn mino
conduct thee : be thou more successful than itit aniious heart will
bodo during the painful period of thy absence. "I will go, and
return quicklj- " qnoth Sancho. " In the mean time, good sir, cheer

y, andrememoertbe saying, that a good heart breaks bad luct ; and
there b no hook, there is no bacon, and where we least expect it,
U>e hare starts; this I say because, thouf^h we could not find the
CMtle nor palace of my lady Dulcinea in the dark, now that it is day-
li^t 1 recfcon I shall soon find it. and then— let me alone to deal
with her." " Verily, Sancho," qnoth Don Qniiote, " thou dost applj'
thy proverbs most happily : yet Heaveu grant me better kck in the
attainment of my hopes ! "

Sancho now switched his Dapple, and set off, leaving t>on Qniiote
on horseback, restini? on his stumps and leaninr on his lance, fall of
melancholy and confused fancies, where we will Icjive him. and attend
Sancho Panza, who departed no less perplexed and thoughtful ; inso-
much that, after he had üot out of the f^ve and looked behind him
to ascertain that his master was out of sight, he alighted, and. sitting
down at the foot of a tree he began to bold a parley with nimsel/.
" Tell me now, brother Sancho," quoth he, " whither is your worship
Ming? Are you going to seek some aaa that is lost?" No, verily.

Then what are yon goin? to seek?" "Why I m to look fora thins
of nothing — a princess, the sun of beantv, and bD heaven ln?ether ! "
"Well, Sancho, and wherethink you to and all this?" "Where? In
the great city of Toboso." "Very well; and pray who sent you on
this errand?" "Why, t!ie renowned knight Don Quixote de In
Mancha, who redresses wrongs, and gives drink to the hungry and
meet to tho thirsty." "All this is mighty well; and do you Know
her house, Sancho?" " My master says it mnst be some royal palace
c* stately castle," "And have yon ever seen her?" " Neither I nor
i»y master have ever seen lier'" "And do yon think it would be
r^t or advisable that the people of Toboso should know yon are
oomiag to kidnap their princesses and lead their ladies astray ! What
i^ for thi» offence, they sbocld come and grind ronr ribs to powder
with tnw dry basting, and not leave von a whole bone invonrskin?"
"^■lytherwouldbemnch intherigntof it, unlessthey please tocon-
■idar.tbat I, being only a messenger, am not in fault." "Trust not to
tiat^ Sancho ; for the Manchegans are very choleric, and their honour
Mbdilish that it will not beiir touching. "Gods my life] If we

81S noH quixoTZ.

shoald be scf nUd, woo be to tia. But why do I eo linking for a eat
witli three legs for aDolher man's pleasure? liesidca, to look for
]}ulcinea up aud down Toboso, is just aa if one sbouid look for little
Marj in Kabena, or a bachelor in Salamanca:— the deyii, and nobody
else, has put me upon such a business ! "

This was Sancho's soUloquv, the result of which wa» to return to
it ^ain. " Well," continucQ he, " there is a remedj for everythinR
but death, wbo in spite of our teetli, will hare us in his clutches.
This master of mine, I con plaiul; see, is mad enough for a strait-
waistcoat; and, in truth, I am not mucn better: na;, I am worse, in
following and serving him. if tjiere i» any truth in t)ie proverb, ' Show
me who tliou art with, antt I will tell tliee what tbon art;' or in the
other, ' Wot with whwn thou wert btcii. but with whom Ihon art fed.'
Ue, then, beinsrin truth a madman, ana so mad as frequently to mis-
take one ihinK tor another, and not know black from white ; us plajaly
appeared wben be called the windmills giants, mules diom^aries,
and the flock of sheep armies of ¿ghtbg men, with many more things
to the same tune ; this being the case, I say, it will not be very
difficult to make him believe that a country wench (the lirst I light
upon) is the lady Dulcinea; and, should lie not believe it, I will
swear to it ; and if he swear?, I « ill outswear him ; and if he persists,
I will persist the more, so that mine shall still be uppermost, come
what will of it. £y this phui I may, perhaps, tire hun of seudiDg me
on such errands ; or he may take it into bis bend that some WKked
enchanter has changed his lady's form, out of pure spite,"

This project set Sancho's spirit at rest, and he reckoned his
business as f^ood as half done ; so he stayed where he was till towards
evening, that Bon Quixote might suppose him travelling on his mieeion,
fortunately for him, just as ne was going to moant his Dapple, he
espied three country wenches comiiu from Toboso, each mounted on
a young ass ; but whether male or female, the author dedares not :
probably they were females, as the country-women Cfflnmonly rode
umu she-asses : however, that being a matter <rf no great imnoitanoe.
I unneeesaary to be at the teonble of ascertwning tl

^1 ^j. -J^Li. ^i Al •! 1 J^ I L _*

said, " Well, ñiend Sancho, am I tú mark this day with a white « •
black stone?" "Yoor worship," answered Sancho, "had better
mark it with red ochre, as they do the inscriptions on the professors'
chairs, tobe the more easily r¿d by the lookers-on," "Thoubringest
roe good news, theoP" oned Don Quixote. "So good," answered
Sancho, " that your worship has only to dap spurs to Hozdnante, and
get out upon the plain, to see the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, who.
with B cCQple of her damseb, is coming to pay your worship a visit.'
" Gracious Heaven ! " exclaimed Don Quixote, what dost thou say?
Take care that thon beguilest not mv real sorrow by a ooaotafeit
joy." " What should I get," answered Sancho, " by deceiving yonr
worship, only to be fonnd out the next moment f Come, sir. put on,
and you will see the prineeas onr mistress all arrayed and adorned —
in short, like herself. She and her damsels are one blase of fiaming
gold ; all strings of pearls, all diamonds, all rubies, all cloth of tissue
above ten hands deep; their hair loose about their shoulders, like so
many sunbeams blowing about in the wind; and what is more, they
,, .A.OOgIC

b, Google

I),,- Ki, Google

THE XEITIKG. 319

come mimnted upon Have pied belfrefs, tbe Guest 7011 «rer kid eyes
on." "FaJfreys, thou wouldst say, Sáncbo," quoth Don Quiiote.
" Well, trt;!!," answered Sancho, " beUreys and palfreys are much the
Kioe thiog ; but lei them be mounted bow they «ill. tbey are khto
the finest creatures one would «úh lo see ) eapecklfr mj mJatress
the princesa Duloinea, who dazile» one's sensca," " Let ns go, sod
Sancho," answered Don Quixote- "andas a reward for this welcome
news, 1 bequeath to thee the choicest spoila I shall gain in my next
adventure : and, if that will not aatisly thee, I bequeath lliee the
colla which my three mares will foal this year upon our rilUtte
common." " 1 stick to tbe cults," UQSwered Sancho : " for wc cannot
yet reckon up the worth of the apoils."

They were now got out of the wood, and saw the three wenches
very near. Don Quixote looked eagerly along the read towards
Toboso, and, seeing nobody but the three wenches, be asked Sancho,
in muca agitation, whether tbey were out of the city when he left
Üiem. "Out ot the city!" answered Sancho; "are your worship's
eyes in tbe nape of your aeck, tliat yon do not see them now before
you, shining like the sun at noonday?" " I see onlv three country

firia," answered Don Quiiote, "on three assea," Now, Ueaveo
eep me iiom the devil, answered Sancho ; " is it possible that thre«
Blfreys, or how do you call them, wliite as the driven snow, should
)k to you like asses F As Üie Ii^d liveth. you shaU pluck off this
beard ol mine if it be so." " I tell thee, friend Enancho/' answered
Don Quixote, " thaX it is as certain they are asses, as that X am Bon
Quixote and thou Sancho Pama;— at least, so tbey seem to me."
Sir," quoth Sancho, " say not such a thing ; but tanS those eyes of
yoiurs, and come and pay reverence to themistresB of yoar soul." So
sayin^he advanoed torward to meet tbe peaiantfiils, sod, alightiiw
from Dapple, he hkid hold of one of their asses W the halter, ani^

>B SM Bieotness oe plñisea
csptire knight, who stands

, . wiUumt any pnlse, to find

himself beioK your magnificent presence. I am Sancho Pama, his
squire, and be is that wtiywom knight Son Quixote de la Maittlu^
owerwise called the knight of the sorrowful fignrs."

Don Quiiote had now placed himself on his knees by Sancho, and,
with wild and staring eyes, surveyed her whom Sancho called his
queen ; and, seeing nothing but a peasant girl, with a broad face, flat
nose, coarse and homely, be was so confonnded that be could not open
his lips. The wcuches were also surprised to find themselves stopped
by two men so ditferent in aspect, and both on their knees ; but the
Isdy who was stopped, breaking silenoe, said in an «igry tonet " Get
oat ot the road, pl*gueoa ye! and let us pass by, for we are in haste."
" 0 princess, and universal lady of Tob<»o !" cried Sancho, " is not

C magnificent heart melting to see on his knees before tout sub-
ted presence, the pillar and prop of knight-errantry P "Hey
day! what's here to do f" cried another of tbe girls; "lookhowyour
snull sentry oome to jeer us poor oountry girls, as if we could not
give them as good as they bring : go ! get off about yoor busines^
and let us mind ours, and so speed you well." " Rise, Sancho," said
Don Qoiiot^ on hearing this : " for I now perceive that fortune, not
yet satisfied with peiseonting me, has boned evtxj avenue wherel^

A.OOgIC

360 pOH ^TJixvra.

relief miglit come to Hiis wretched soul I bear atout me in the flesh.
And thou, O extreme of all that is Taluable, summit of hunmn perfee-
tion, thou sole balm to this déconsolate heart Ibat adores thee, though
HOT some vicked enchanter spreads clouds and cataracta over my eyes,
changinf^ and to them onlj, thy peerless beauty info that of a poor
rustic ; il he his not converted mine siso into that of some eohlin, to
r«iider it horrible to thy view, bestow on me one kind and amoTona
look, aud let this aubmissÍTe posture, these bended knees, before thy
disguised beauty, declare the humility with wbicli my sonl adores
thee ! " " Man7 come up," qnoth the wench, " with your idle eib-
berish ; get on with yon, aod let us go, and we shall take it kbdiy."
Sancho DOW let go the lialter, delighted that he had come off so well
with his contrivance. The imaginary Dulcinea was no sooner set at
liberty than, pricking her beast with a sharp pointed stick, which she
held in her nanrl, she acoared along the field ; but the ass, smarting
more than usual under the goad, began to kick and wince in such a
manner that down came the lady Dulcmea to the ground. Don
QniKOte instantly ran to her asaistnnce, and Sancho to replace the
pannel that had got under the ass's belly. Don Quixote was then pro-
ceeding to raise his enchanted mistress, but thclndy saved him that
trouble ; for, immediately upon getting up from the ground, she
retired three or four steps back, took a litÜe ran, then, dappine both
hands npon the ass's crupper, jumped into the saddle lighter tlian a
faieon, and seated herself natnde like a man. "By Saint Hoque!"
cried Sancho, "our lady mistress is lighter than a bird, and could
teach the nimblest Cordovan or Meiiean how to mount : she springs
into the saddle at a jump, and without the help of spurs, makes her
palfrey run lite a wild ass ; and her damsels are not a whit short of
her, for they all fly lite the wind ! " And this was the trath ; fi»,
Dulcinea being remounted, the other two made after her, full speed,
without looking behind them for above half a league.

Bon Quixote followed them with his eyes as far as he was able, and
when they were out of sight, turoing to Sancho, be said ; " What dost
thou thmknow. 8anchor See how 1 am persecuted by enchanters!
Mark how far their malice extends, even to depriving me of the plea-
sure of seeing my mistress in her own proper form ! Surely I was
born to be an example of wretchedness, and the butt and mark at
which a)l the arrows of ill fortune are aimed ! And thou most have
observed, too, Sancho, that these traitors were not contented with
changing and traneforming the countenance of my Dulcinea, but they
must (^ve her the baae and uncouth figure of a country wcnoh ; at this
same time robbing her of that which u peculiar to laiiies of rank — the
fragrant scent which they imbibe from being always amoi^ flowers
and sweet perfumes j for, if thou wilt believe me, Sancho, when I
approached to help Dulcinea upon her palfrey (as thou savest, though
it appeared to me out an ass) slie gave me such a wliiff of undigested

grfick as almost poisoned mv very soul." " O base rabble ! " cried
ncho, " O barbarous and evil-minded enchanters ! 0 ! that I uu^ht
see yon all strung and hung np by the gills like smoked herrings !
Cunning ye are, much ye can, and much evil je do. One would have
tionght it might have satisfied ye, rogues as ye are ! to have changed
the pearis of my ladj^s eyes into cork galls, and hcrhairof the pnrwt
gold into brislfes of a red cow's tail, aod all her features from beauty
to nglineaa, without meddling with lier breath, by which we might
, , . .A.OOgIC

■jukoo'b uto. Sn

Lire gnneed at what was hid benealh her n^ mst— though, to aaj
the tfoth, to me «he did not appear in the east ngl;, but n¿her m
beaut;^ which waa raised to the highest pitch b; a mole ahe had on
hei lifiit lip, like a nhisko', with seven or eight red hain on it, like
threaoa of (old, and abore a spaD long I " " Aa to the mole," aoid
Don Qjiixote, "acoordiag to the ooirespondence lubiiatiug betveen
tAe moles of the face sod those of the bodf, DiUdnea should have
another on her peraon, on the same aide a* that on her face : but,
indeed, hairs of the length thoa aapest are somewhat of the kmgeat
for moles," "Yet I can assure 70ur worship," answoed Swioha
" that there th^ wer^ and looked as if the; had been born with her.
" I believe it friend, replied Don Quixote, " for Nature baa placed
nothioK about Dulcinea hut «hat ii oniahed and perfect: and thn«-
fore, had she an hundred moles, lit" those of which thoa apeakeat, in
bet tlte; would not be moles, but moons and resplendent stars. Bnt

ell me, Sancho^ that which to me a^ipeared to m a pannet w

-ide-saddle, or a pillion F " " It was a sid&«addle," answered SanohcL
" with a field covering, worth half a kiutcdom for the riahness of it.

"And that I should not see all thia!" exolahned Dun Quixote.
"Again I any, and athousand times «ill I repeat it, I am the moat
onfortniuite of men ! " The al; rogue Saneho had much difficultj to
forbear laughiog, to think how exquisitelv his master was eulled.
After more diiJoene of the same kind, Uiej; mounted their beaata
again, and followed the road to Sanwossa, still intending tobe present
at aaolemnfestivalanauallfhBhlin tWcitf 1 hat before tbej reached
it, evcuta befel them which for their importaiio^ Tsiie^ and ooveltj,
well deserre to be recorded and read.

CHAPTER XL

Don Quixutb proceeded on his way at a slow pao^ exceedingtj
pensive, musing on the base trick the enchanteia had pmed him, in
transforming his ladf Dnlciaea into the homel<r figure of a peasant-
wench ; nor could he devise any means of restoring her to her former
state. In these meditations his mind was so absorbed that, withont
perceiving it, the bridle dropped on Roslnante's neck, who, taking
ndiantage of the libertj thus given him, at every step tnmed aside to
take a mouthful of the fresh gnus with which tnose parts abounded,
Sancho endeavoured to ronse him: "Sorrow," said lie, "was made
for man, nut for beasts, air ; but if men give too much wav to it, the;
beoome beasts. Take heart, shr; recollect jonrself, ana gather np

* Thaae AuUMarednnialacBllegoriea,avmboUin1ofr«Iigiinumjst«4<a;
tlief WSTB repTCUDted an ths ieatinl ol ths Corpus Cfariati, and ths Ootavs,
bM onl7 at the tlieatiei, bnt balbre Ü» oouncUa ol state, and «van Út»
bibiine of the Holy Inquiaitjoo. Thaw aUegoiioal sbawi are now wisalf
prohibiCed.

' A.OOgIC

893 - DON quixoTB.

BozinanU's reiiiB : cheer up, avale, and aliow that 7011 have conn>^
beütting a kuight-errant ! Wliat, in Ibe devil's oaine, is the matter Í
Wliy are )ou so cast down ? Are wehere, orini'r»npeP Satan take
a]) tDe Dulcineas in tlie n'orld! 'flicnelfareofa single kniclit-emmt
is of more consequence than all tlie cnchactmcnta and transformations
on earth." " Peace, Sancho," cried Don Quixote, in no very faint
voice ; " peace, I say, and uller no hiasphemies a^inst that enc)iast«d
lad;, of whose disgrace and misfortune I am the sole canse, since tbef
proceed eotireiy from the envy that the wicked bear to me." " 80
Bay I," quoth Sancho, " for wlio saw her then and sees her now, hii
htárt must melt witli grief, I vow." " Well, indeed, mayat thou say
BO," replied Don Quiiote ; " thou who aawst ner in the full iurtre of
her beauty : as the enchantment affected not thy sight, nor concealed
ber peifectioiiH from thee. Against me alone, and against my eyes,
was the force of its poison directed. Nevertheless, Suncho, I auspiect
that thou didst not give me a true description of her beanty ; for, if I
Temember ri^ht, ibou saidst her eyes weie of pearl ; now, eyes that
look like pearl are ratherthoaeof afish than of a lady. I imagine the
eyes of Dulcinea must be of verdant emeralds, arched over with two
celestial bows, that serve for eiebrows. ThoH must, therefore, take
those pearls from her eyes, and apply them to her teeth ; for doubt-
less, Sancho, thou hast mistaken teeth tor eyes." "It may be so."
answered Sancho, "for her beauty confonnded me, asmueh as her ugli-
ness did your worship. But let us recommend all to God, who alone
knows what shall befal us in this vale of teats— this evil world of
OUTS, in which there is scarcely anything to he found without soma
miilure of wickedness, imposture, and knavery. One thing, dear sir,
troubles me more thui all the rest ; which is to think what most be
done when your worship shall overcome some giant or knisht^^rrant,
and send him to present himself before the beauty of the lady Dulcinea.
Where shall this poor giant, or miserable vanquished knight, be able
to find her? Alethinks I see them sauntering up and down Toboso,
and gaping about, like fools, for niy kdy Dulcinea ; and though they
should meet her in the middle of the street, they will know her no
more than tbev «ould my father." " Perhaps, Sanciio," answered
Don Quixote, ' the enchantment may not eiteud to the vision of van-
quished knights or giants;— however, we will make the eiiieriment
Upon one or two of the first I overcome, and send Iheni with orders U)
return and give me an account of their reception." " Your worship
is quite in the right," replied Sancho, " for bv this trial we shall
surely come at the knowledge : and if she is hia from your woiship
alone, the misfortune will be more yours than hers : and so that the
lady Dulcinea have health and contentment, we, for our parts, ought
to make shift and bear it as well as we can, seeking our adventutca,
and leaving it to time to do his work, who is the best doctor for these
and worae grievances."

Don Quixote would have answered Sancho, but was prevented by
the passing of a cart across the road, full of the strangest-lookinif
people imaginable ; it was without any awning above, or covering to
the sides, and the carter who drove the mules had the appearanne of
a fnghtful demon. The first figure that caught Don Quixole'a atten-
tion, was that of Deuth, with a human viiage ; close to him sat on
angel, with large painted wings : on the other side stood an emperor,
with a crown, seemingly of gold, ou bis head. At Death's feet sat

THÍ COBTM or DEATH. 338

the god Copid, Dot bundfold, but with his bow, niuTer, and airom;
a knttilit also apppart'd aman:; thcni, in compfete annoar; only
instil of a moriuu, or casijue. he, wore a hat with a large plume of
ieatlifcrs of divers colours ; uid there weve several other persona of
equAl diversity in appearance, Sueh a sight cominr thus abruptly
upon tbem, somewhat startled Don Qidxole^ and the hfart of Saaeho
Via struck with disma.v. But vich ihe kuiebt. surprise soon (tare
place to joy; for be anticipated some new ima perilous adrenture;
uid under tjiis impression, with a resolution prepared for my daomr,
he planted himself Just before the cart, and cried out u aloud
menacing voice, "Cavler, coachman, or devil, or whatever be thy
dcDomination, tell me instantly what thoit art, whither fcomg and
who are the persons thou couveyest in that vehicle, which, bv its
freight, looks Lke Charon's ferry-boat Í" To which the devil calmly
rephed: "Sir, we are travelling players, belon^ng to Ángulo el
Ualo's company. To-day, bein;; the Octave of Corpas Chrisli, we
have been performing a piece repreaentiu); the 'CorE«a of Death-'
this evening we are to play it again in the viihuje just before ns ; and,
aol havingfar to go, we travel in the dresses of our parts, to save
trouble. This young man represents Death; he an angel; that
woman, who is our author's wife, pUys a ¡lueen ; the other a soldier ;
this nno is an emperor, and I am the devil, one of the principal per-
a of the drama: for in tliis company 1 have all the chief parts.

If your worship desires any further information, I am ready to answer
your questions : for, being a devil, I know everything." ' Upon the
Lulli of a knight-errant,'" answered Don Quixote, "when I first
espied this cart, I imagined some great adventure offered itself; bat
appearanoea ¡tfe not always to be trusted. Heaven be with you, good

Kple ; go and perform your play, and if there be anything in which
ay l>e of service to you. command me, for 1 will do it most readily,
having been, from my youto, a great admirer of masques and theatrical

While they were speaking, one of the motley crew came op caper-
ing towards them, in an antic dress, friskine about with his morris-
beiU, and three full-blown ox-bladders tied to the end of a stick.
Approaching the kniifht, he flourished his bladders in the air, and
boouced them against the ground close under the nose of Kniinante,
who was so startled by the noise that Don Quixote lost all command
over him, and having got the curb between liis teeth, away he scam-
pered over the plain, with more speed than might have been expected
from such an assemblage of dry bones. Sancho, seeing his master's
danger, leaped fronL Dapple and ran to bis assistance ; but, before
his ¿quire could reach hiiu, he was upon the ground, and close by him
Bozinante, who fell with his master, the usual termination of Bozi-
oante's fiúlics. Sancho had no sooner dismounted to assist Don
t)uixote, than the bladder-dan [^ing devil jumped upon Dapple, and
thumping him with the bladders, fear at the noise, more than the
smart, set hiiu also flying over the field towaiils the village where
tbey were goins to act. , Thus, Sancho, beholding at one and the
same moment Dapple'a flight and his master's fall, was at a loss to
whichof the two duties he should first attend: but, like a good squire
and faithful servant, the love he bore to his master prevailed over his
affection for his ass ; though as often as he saw the bladders hoisted
in the air, andfallupontltebody of his Dimple, he felt the pangs and

T S

A.OOgIC

SM DOS (jnixoix.

lortures of death, and he would rather those bltnrs had AiIIgii on th«
apple of his owa efea than on the leut haii of bjs ssa's tail.
In this tribnJatioD he came Dp to Don Quixote, vbo was in a much

worse plight than he could have wished; and ^ as he helped him to

Et upon Roiinanle, be said, " Sir, the devil has run awaj with
»pple." "What devil P" demanded Don Quiiote. "He with the
bladdera," aiBwered Sancho. "I will recover him," replied Don
Quiiote, "thoug-h he should hide himself in the deepest and darkest
dungeon of the earth. Follow me, Sancho ; for the cart moves hnt
bIow^, and the mules shall make compensation for the loss of Dapple."
" Stay, sir," cried Sancho, " jou may cool your anper, for I see the
devil Das left Dapple, and gone his way." And so it was; for Dapple
and the devil bavins tumbled, aa well as Rozinante and bts maat«r,
the merry imp left nim and made off on foot to the village, while
Dapple turned back to hb rightful owner, "Nevertheless," said
Don Quiiote, " it will not be amiss to chastise the insolence of this
deril on some of his company, even anon the emperor himself."
" Good your worship," quotn Sancho : " do not tliink of such a thing,
but take mv advice and never meddle with players ; for thev ate a
people mightily beloved. I have seen a player taien up ior two
murders, and set off scot.ftfe. Aa they are merry folks and give
pleasure, everybody favours them, and is ready to stand their friend ;
putieulariy if they are of the kmg'a or some nobleman's company.
who kiok and dress like any princes." " That capering buffoon shall
not escape with impunity, though he were favoured by the whole
human race 1" cried Don Quixote, as he rode off in pursuit of the
cart, which was now very near the town, and be called aloud, " Halt
«little, merry sirs i stay and let me teach you how to treat cattle
belonging to the squires of knights-errant. Don Qaixote's worda
were loud enough to be heard by the phvyers, who, perceiving bia
adverse designs upon them, instantly jnmped out of the cart. Death
first, and after him the emperor, the carter-devil, and the angct ; nor
did the queen or the god Cupid stay behind ; and, all armed with
stones, wailed in battle-array, ready to receive Don Quiiote at the
points of their pebbles . Don Quixote, seeing the gallant squadron,
with arms ujilifted, ready to discliarge such a fearful volley, checked
Rozinante with the bridle, and began to consider how he might most
prudently attack them. While lie paused, Ssnciio came up, and
seeing hrni on the point of attacking tJiat well-formed brigade, remon-
Btraled uith him. " It is mere maduess, sit," said he, to attempt
such an cntciprise. Pray consider there is no armour proof against
stours and bnck, unless you could thrust yourself mto abell of oreas.
Besides it is not course, hut rashness, for one man singly to en-
counter an army, w here Death is present, and wbere emperors fight
in person, assisted br good and bad angels. But if that is not reason
enough, remember tuat, thotigb these people all look like princes and
emperors, tiiere is not a real knight among Ihem." " Now, indeed,"
said Don Quixote, " thou hast hit the point, Sancho, which can alone
shake my resolution ; I neither can nor ought to draw my sword, aa
I have often told thee, a^iaiiist those who are not dubbed knights. To
thee it bebngs, Sancho, to revenge the affront offered to thy Dapple:
and from tliis spot I wtU encourage and assist thee by mj voice and
salutary instructions." "Good Christiana should never revenge
iiyuries," answered Sancho ; and I dare say that Dapple it as Sae-

A.OOgIC

BUICHO'S CHRISTLUI BZ80LVX. 325

gmng u mytelf, and readr to sabmit his cue to mr «iU and plea-
•uie, which IS to live peaceably with all the world, u Ion? as heaven
ii pleased lo grant me life," "Since this ia thj reflolution, eood
Sancho, discreet Sancho, Christian Sancho, and honest Sanoho,"
repbed Don Qiiiiote, "let us leare these phantoms, and seek bettOT
and more substantial adventures ; for this oounty, I see, is likely to
afford us many and very extraordinary ones." Ho then wheeled
Rozinonte about, Sancho took his Dapple, and Death, with hia flying
ioufldnin, having returned to their cart, each pursued their way.
Thai happily terminated the awful adventure of Death's caravan^
thanks to the wholesome advice that Sancho Panza ^ve his master:
who, the ne:tt day, encountering an enamoured kmght-errant, met
with an ndventuie not a whit less importaot tbao the one just
related.

CHAPTER XH.

Don QviTOTB and his squire passed the night following their
encounter with Death nnder some tall, nmhraseous trees; and, as
they were refreshin» theinselves, by Sanclio's advice, from the store
of provisions carried by Dapple, he said to iiis master, " What a fooL
sir, rfiould I have been had I choaenj for my reward, the spoils of
jour worship's first adventure, instead of the three ass-oolts 1 It ia
a true saying, ' A sparrow in the hand is better than a vulture upon
the wing.' " "However, Sancho," answered Don Quiiote, "hadst
tiion suifered me to make the attack which I had premeditated, thy
idiare of the booty would have been at least the emperor's crown of
gold, and Cupid's painted win^ ; for I would have plucked them off
perforce, and dehvered themlnto Üiv hands." "The c ~~^

should bo otherwise than connterfeit, like the drama itself, which!
wonld have thee hold in due estimation, as well as the actors and
nthora, for they are aU instruments of much beneñt to the common-
wealth, continuaEy presenting a mirror before our eyes, in which wo
see lively representations of the actions of human Ide : nothine,
indeed, more truly portravs to us what we are, and what we should
be, than the drama. Tell me, hast thou never seen a play in which
kings, emperors, popes, lords, and ladies are introduced, with divots
other personages ; one acting the lufiiau, another the knave ; one the
merchant, another the soldier ; one a designing fool, another a foolish
lover; and observed that, when the plav ia done, and the autors
undressed, they are all a¿iin upon a level?" " Yes, marry have I,"
moth Sancho. "The verv same thing, then," said Don Qiuxol*.
h^peos on the stage of this world, on which, some play the part of
emperor», others (rf popes— in ^ort, every part that can be intro-
A.OOgIC

33S DON QUIXOTE.

duced m & comedy; but, Bit the conclusion of (his drama of life,
dpitth strips lis of the ruhes irhich make the dilTerence hctivccn man
and man, aud learea añ all on one It'vel in the grave." "A brave
compai'ison !" quolh Sancho; "tliouRh not so new but that 1 liave
beam it man; times, as veil as that of (be game at chess ; vhieh is
tiat, while the game is going, every piece has its office, and, when it
is ended, they are all huddled toselher, and put into a bait :^ust as
ire are put toseiber into the ground when we are dead." "Suncho,"
said Don Quiiote, " thou art daily improving in sfTise." " And so 1
ouffht," answered Sancho: "for some of your worship's wisdom must
needs aticic to me; as dry and barren soil, by well dun::ing e

dignins, comes at last to bear good fruit, li.^ mcanitigis, tbat your
worship's conversation bas been the dung laid upon the barren soQ
of my poorwit, and the tillape has been the time I have been in your

rny ; by «¡lich I hope to produce fruit like any
ts wilt nut disparase my teacher, nor let me stray
from the paths of good.brecdinic, wliicli your worship has made in my
shallow understanding," Don Quixote smiled at Sanehu's affected
style : but he really did think him iuiprovcd, and was frequently sur-
prised by hb observations, when he did not disi>lay his ¡¡.-iiorance bv
soaring too high. His chief strength lay in proverbs, of which he Lad
always abundance ready, thousb perlmps not always fill iiisr the occa-
sion, as may often have necn remarked m the course of this liiatory.

In this kind of conversation they spent (Treat part of th'^ lught, tul
Sancho felt disposed to let down the portcullises of his eyes, as he
used to say when he was inclined to sleep. So, havii^ unrigged his
Dapple, he turned him loose into pasture ; but be did not tiike off
the saddle from Kozinaute's back, it being the express command of
his master that he should continue saddled whilst they kept the field,
and were not sleeping under a roof, in conformity to an ancient esta-
blished cmtom reusiously observed among kn^hts-errant, which vaa
to take off the bridle, and ban" it on the pommel of the saddle, but
by no means to remove the anddle, Sanefio observed this rule, and
gave Eozinante the same liberty he ha:! given to Dapple, And here
it may be noticed that the fricudship subsisting between this pab: was
80 remarkable, that there is a tradition handed down from lather to
son, that the author of this faithful history compiled several chaptcia
expressly upon that aubiect; but, to maintain the decorum due to
an heroic work, he would not insert them. Nevertheless, he occo-
sionalty mentions these animals, and sa;~a, that when they came toge-
ther they always fell to scratching one another with their teeth, and,
when they were tired, or satisfied, Roiinante would stretch bis neck
at least half a vard across that of Dapple, and both fixing their eyes
attentively on the ground, would stanif three days in that pasture — at
least as long as they were undisturbed, or till hunger comi)elled them
to seek food. The autbor is said to have compared their friendship to
that of Nisus and Enryalos, or that of Pyhidea and Orestes. How
steady, then, must have been the friendship of these two peaceable
animals— to the shame of men, who are so regardless of its laws!
Hence the aayings, " A friend caimot find a friend ■" " Kerds becoma
darts ;" aud " From a friend to a friend, the bug," £c.* Nor let it be

"tea proverb applied to

THE KineHT op TH» WOOD. 327

laken amiss that any comparison shonid be made between the mutual
cordialit J of animab rmA that o( mea ; for much useful koowled,^
and many saluUrj precepts bavc been tauglit hj the brute crealino.
We are indebted, for examiiie, to the stork for the clyster, and for
emetics to the do<;; from whica animal we may also learn Rratitude,
reU as vigilance from cnuies, foresight from ants, modesty from

beforo be was disturbed by a ooise near him ; he started up, and
looking ia the direction whence the sounds proceeded, could discern
two men ou hor^back, one of whom dismountini, said to the other.
" Alight, friend, and mtbridle the horses ', for this nlace will afford
them pasture, and offers to me that sUcnoe and sofitude which my
amorous thouphls require." As he spoke, he threw himself on the
ground, and m this motion a rattling of armour was heard, which
convinced Don Quiiote that this was a knight^crrant; aod Koiog to
Saocbo, who was fast ahleep, he pulled him by the arm, and having
with some difficulty aroused him, he said in a law voice, " Friend
Sancho, we liave liot aq adventure liere." " Heaven send it be a good
one," answered Sancho ; and pray, sir, where may this same adven-
ture bef" "Where, sayeet thou, Sancho?" replied DonQuixote, "turn
tbiueeyes tliat way, and thou wilt aeeaknight-errantlym; extended,
who seems to me not over happy in hia mind ; for I just now saw
him dismount and throw himself upon the ground, as if much oppressed '
with grief, and his armour rattled as he fell," " But how do tou
know," quoth Sancho, " that tliis ia an adventure?" " Thougn I
cannot yet positively call it an adventure, it has the usnal signs of one
— but listen, he is tuning an inslrument, and seems to be preparing
to sing." By my trotli, so he is," cried Sancho, " and he must be
some Knight or otherin love." "AsaU knigbta-errant must be," quoth
Don Quiiote; "but liearken, and we shnll discover his thoughts by
hia song, for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth specdccth.
Sancho would have replied, but the knight of the wood, whose voice
was only moderately |;ood, began to sing, aad they both ftttentivelr
bstenea to the followmg words ; —

SONNET.

Bright Buthoren of my good or iQ,

Preeoribo tho law I must observe t
Mv heart, obortient to thy will.

Shall nevar froia its duty sHerre,
II you refuse my grlaie to know,

The «tJüod anguish s-^als my fate ;
But if your eara would drLak my woe.

Love sboU himsalf tho tale Mate,
Though coDtrarlea my heart compoee^

Hwd as the diamond's solid frame.
And Boft as yielding wax that flowa.

To thee, my fair, 'us still tlie come.
Take it, for ev'ry stamp prepared ;

Imprint what chaiactera you choose:

. I, Google

S3S sos QinzoTi.

With a deep sigh that «eemcd to be dnvn from the rerj bottom
of hia beart, the knisbt of Uie wood ended hia song ; and sfteT some
pause, in a plaintive and dolorous voice, he exclaimed, " 0 Iboa-
moat beautiful and most ongralefol of woman-kind! O divine
Cuildea de Vandalia! Wilt thoa then suffer tills tb;; entire
kni^t to consume and pine ¡¡vaj in continual peregrinations, and
in severest toils P Is it not enoogli that I have caused thee to be
acknowledged the most consummate beauty in the world, by all the
knighta of Navarre, of Leon, of Tartesia, of Caslile, and in fine,
by all the knights of La Mancha P " " Not so," said Don Quiiote,
" for I am of La Manclia, and never have made such an acknow-
ledgment, nor ever will admit an assertion so prejudicial to the beauty
of mj mistress. Thou seest, Sancho, how this knight raves — but
let OS listen; perhaps he will make some farther declaration."
" Ay, many will he, replied Sancho, " for he seems to be in &
humour to comphiin for a month to come." But they were ims-
taken ; for the knight hearing voices near them, proceeded do farther
in ids lamentations, but, rising up, said aloud in a courteous voice,
"Who goes thereP What ore yeF Of the number of the happy,
or of if "" ' ^'" '""■■' •»■-'"' , -r^... ^..■-...

will find sorrow and miser? itself !
. in so moving a tone that l)oa Quiii , .....

to the mournful knight, who, taking his hand, said to him. Sit down
here, sir knight, for to be assured that you profess the order oí chi-
vahy, it isBuScient that I find you here, encompassed bysolitudeand
the cold dews of nieht : the proper atútion for knights -errant." " A
knight 1 am," replied Don Quixote, "and of the order you namfc
and, altliough my heart ¡a the mansion of miaery and woe, yet can I
sympathise m the sorrows of others ; fromtbestrain I just nowheard
from you, I conclude that yours are of the amoroos kind—arisiDg, I
mean, from a passion for some ungrateful ítár."

Whilst thus discootsing, they were seated together on the ground,
peaceably and sociably, not as if , at daybreak, they were to fall upon each
other with mortal fury. " Perchance yoiL too, are in love, sir knight,"
said he of the wood to Don Quixote. Such is my cruet deatiny,"
answered Don Quixote; " thouzh the sorrowa that may arise from
well-placed affections ought rather to be accounted blessioga than
calamitiea." " That is true," replied the knight of the wootf " pro-
vided OUT reason and uuderatanding be not afiected by disdain, which
when carried to excess is more like vengeaitoe." " I never was dis-
dained by my mistress " answerd Don Quixote. " No, verify," ouolh
Sancho, who stood close by, "for my lady is as gentle as aumb,
and as soft as butter." "Is this your squire P" demanded the knight
of the wood. " He is," replied Don Quixote. " I never in my life
saw a squire," said the kuight of the wood, " who durst presume to
Speak, where hia lord was conversing : at least there stands mine, as
tall as his father, and it cannot be proved that be ever opeocd hU lips
when 1 was speaking." " 1' faith ! " quoth Sancho, " I have talked,
and can talk before one as good as— and perhaps, — but let that rest :
perhaps the less said the better." The Knight of the wood's squire
now took Sancho by the arm, and said, " Let US two go where we may
chat squire-like together, and leave these masters of ours to talk over
their lores to each other ; for I «Ntant they will not have done befora

A.OOgIC

THB two bqthkes. 339

to-norroT mornmg." " With all my heart," quoth Sancho, " and I
«ill tell 70U who I am, that 7011 mar judge vhether 1 am not fit to
make one among the talkii^ sqnires. The squires then withdrew,
and a dialojw paued between them as Uvelf as that of their masters

CHAPTER Xm.

Soontra and knights being thos separated, the latter were engaged
on the subject of their lores, while the former gave an account to each
other of their liyes. The histoiy first relates the conversntiou between
the3errants,aiii1aFtertFard3 proceeds to that of the masters. Having
ntired a little apart, the aquire of the vood said to Saocho, "This is
a toilsome life we aqoires to kuiglits-errant leadj in ffood truth, we
eat our bread by the sweat of our brows, which is one of the curses
laid upon our first parents." " You may say, too, that we eat it by
the frost of our boffles," addf d Sancho ; " for who has to bear more
«old, as well as heat, than your miserable sqnires to knights-errant ?
It would not be qoitesobad if we tnuld always get something; to eat ;
for good fare lessens care ; bnt how often we must pais whole days
withoat breaking our fast — unless it be upon air !" 'AH this may be
endured," quoth ha of the wood, " with the hopes of reward ; for that
knight-errant must be nnlacky indeed who does not speedily recom-
pense bia squire with, at least, a handsome government, or some pretty
earldom." " I," replied Sancho, " have already told my master that
1 shoidd be satisfied with the government of an island ; and he is so
nc^le and so cenerous that he has promised it me a thousand
times." " And I," aiúd he of the wood, " should think myself amply
rewarded for all my services with a eanonry, and I have my mastw'a
word for it too." " Why then," quoth Sancho, " belike your master
is some knipht of the cburch. and so can bestow rewards of that kind
on his sqnires ; mine is only a layman. Some of his wise friends
advised him once to be an archbishop, but he would be nothing bat
an emperor, and 1 trembled all the while, lest he shonld take a liking
to the church ; because yon must know I am not ptted that way— ta
say the truth, sir, though I look like a man. I am a very beast in such

matters." "Let metell you,friend," quoth heof thewood, "you are
qaite in the wrong ; for these isiana governments are often more
napie than profit. Some a.Te crabbed, some beir^rly, some— in short
le Oesl of them are sure to bring more care than they are worth, and

s

—■e mostly too heavy for the shoulders that have to bear them. I bb.-
pect it would be wiser in us to quit this thankless drudgery and stay
at home, where we may find easier work and better pastime ; for ho
must be a sorry squire who has not his nag, bis brace of greyhounds,
and an antfling-rod to enjoy himself with at home." " I am not with-
out these things," answered Sancho; "it is true Ihaveno horse, bnt
then I hare an ais whioh is wwüttvioe as much as my master's stoed.
,, .A.OOgIC

S90 SON QUIXOTE,

Heaven send me a bad Easter, and may it he the first that oomea, if 1
vould anap witb him, tliou^b lie should oSScc me four bushels of bar-
ley to boot ; no, faith, that would not I, though jou mav take for a
joke the price I set upon mj Dapple; for dapple, sir, b tliecoloorirf
my asa. Greybouads I cannot be in want oi, as our town is over*
stocked with them : besides, the rarest sporting ia that we find at
otber people's cost," " Really and truly, brother squire," answered
he of tlie wood, "I have resolved with myself to quit the frolics of
these kn^üts-errant, and get home again and look after my children ;
for I have three like Indian pearls." "And I have two," quoth
Sancho, "fltio be presented to the Popebimself in person; especially
m; girl that I am Dreeding up for a countess, if it please Heaven, in
spite of her mother." " And pray, what may be the age uf the young
lady you are breeding up for a countess F " demanded lie of tbe wood!
"fifteen years, or thereabouts," answered Sancho, "and she ia ai
tall as a lance, aa fresh as an April morning, and as strong as a por-
ter." "These are qualifications," said be of the wood, "not onl¿for
a countess, but for a wood-uvmph! Ah, the young slut! How
buxom must the jade be!" To this Saoclio answered, somewhat
anerily, " She is no slut, nor was her mother otie before her

u Ui T 1;..^ ^i...n _:i.L__ -r ^i i_^ _^ i-i. .1 _:n: _-. ..

whibt i live shall either of them be so, God willing : so pray speak
more civilly, for such language is unbecoming oue brought up líkeyou.
among km^hts«rrant, who are good-breeding itself." "Why!

brother squire, you don't understand what praismg is," qnoth he of
the wood. " What ! do you not know that, when some knight at a
bull-feast gives the bull a home thrust with his lance, or when a thing
b well bit off, it is common to say,—' Ah ! how cleverly the rascal did
itF' which, though it seems to bea slander, is in fact great commend-
ation! I would have you renounce every son or daughter whose
actions do not make them deserving of such compliments." " I do
renounce them," answered Sancho, and. since you mean so well by
it you may call mj wife and children all the sluts and jades you
please; for all they do or say is eicellcnt, and well worthy of such
praises ; and tliat I may return and see them a^in, I beseecn Heaven
to deliver me from mortal sin— that is, from this dangerous profession
of squireship into which I have run a second time, drawn and templed
by a purse of a hondred ducats which I found one day among the
mountains. In truth, the devil is continuallj setting before my eyes,
here, there, and everywhere, a bag full of gold pistoles, so that
methinks at every step I am laying my hand upon it, hugziog it, and
oarryiaeit home, bujmg lands, settling rents, and livmg liE'eaprince^
and while this runs m my head, I can bear all the toil which niusl be
suffered with this foolish master of mine, who, to my knowledge, is
more of the madman than the kniiiht,"

"Indeed, friend." said the squire of the wood, "you verify the pro-
Terb, which says, that covetousness bursts the ba^.' Truly, frieud,
now you talk of madmen, there is not a greater one m the world than
my master. The old saying may he applied to him, 'Other folks'
burdens break the ass's Ireick :' for he gives up his own wita to recover
those of another, and in searching after that which, when found, may
chance to hit him in the teeth." "By the way, he is in love, it
seemap" said Sancho. "Tes," qnoth ne of the wood, "with one
Casildea de Vandalia, one of the most whimsical dames in the world ;
but that is not the foot he baits oa at present : be has some other

Tim TTO S<1UIB£S. 831

crotclets in lib pste, which wr shall hear more of fuion." "There is
DO roatl aoeven Dut it has ilastumbliiis -places," replied Sancho; "in
other folks' houses tliey boil beans, but in mine, whole kettlcs-full.
Madness will have more followers toan discretion, but, if the common
flaying b true, that there ia some comfort in having partners in (frief,
I may comfort myself with yon, who serve as crack -braioed a master
•a mvown." "Crock-brained but valiant," answered he of the wood,
"ana more koarish than cither." "Mine," answered Sancho, "has
nothing of the knare in him ¡ so far from it, he has a soul as pure as
a pitcher, and would not harm a fly ; he bears no malice, and a child
may persuade him it is night at noonday : for which I love him aamj
life, and cannot find in mv heart to leave him, in spite of all his

E ranks." "For all thai, brother" quolh he of the wood, "if the
lind lead the bliud, botli may fall into the ditch. ■ Wc had better
tarn us fairly about, and go back to our homes : for they who seek
adventures end them sometimes to their cost."

Here the squire of the wood observing Sancho to spit varj often, as
if very thirsty, " Melhinks," said he, " we have talked till oni tongues
cleave to the roofs o( our months ; but I have got, han^ng at my
aaddle-how, that which will loosen them ;" when, rising np, he quickly
produced a lar^c bottle of wine, and a pastv half a yard long, without
any elaboration ; fur it wis made of so large a rabbit that Sancho
thought verily it must contain a whole goat, or at least a kid-, and,
after due examination, " How," said he, " do yon carry such things
abootwith yonf" Why, what did you thbki" answered the
Other ; " did you tote me for some starveling squire ? No, no, I have
• better cupboard behind me on my horse than a general carnes with
^'•a opon a march." Sancho fell to, without waiting for eutreatie».

d «nrnllnnrp[3 Hnwn hnoT. mnnthfnU in the dnrV "Ynnr wiirsbin."

said he, " is indeed a squire, trusty and loyal, round and sound, mag'-
nificent and great withal, as tliis banauet proves (if it did not come by
enchantmeut) J and not a poor wretch hke myself, with nothing in my

wallet but a piece of cheese, and tb^ so hard that yon may knock out
a gianf s brains with it : and four dozens of carobcs* to bear it coro-

fiany, with as many filberts — thanks to my master's stin^ness, and to
he fancy he has taken, that knifchts^errant ought to feed, like cattle,
upon roots «nd wild herbs." "Troth, brotber," replied he of the
wood, "I hove no stomach /or yoor wild pears, nor sweet thistles, nor
your mountain roots ; let our masters have them, with tlieir fancies
and their htws of chivalry, and let them eat what they commend. I
carry cold meats and thb bottle at the pommel of my saddle, happen
what will ; and such is my love and reverence for it, that I kiss and
hug it every moment ;" and as he spoke he put it into Sancho's hand,
who grasped it, and, applying it straightway to bis mouth, continued
gazing at the stars for a quarter of an nour ; then, having finished his
draught, he let his head fall on one side, and. fetching a deep sigh,
said, "O the rascal ! How catholic it is!" Yon see, now," quoth
he of the wood, " how properly yon commend this wine in rállinit it

pliment. But tell me, by all you love brat, is not this wine of Ciudad
, which green i
A.OOgK

* A pod lo called In La Mancha, with s Bat putee to it, which green oi
ilpe la hanb, but swest and pleMout after it <• dried.

S8S noH <tvnan.

Bealí" " Then srt a rare taster," answeted lie of tíiewood; "it it
indeed of no other growtb, and has. besides, some 7ear8 over ita
head." "Trnst me for that," quota Sancho: "depend upcm it I

always hit right, and can gness to a bair. And tMsisalliiatQnilmme;
let me but smell them, and I vill tell ;od the country, the lün± the
flaTonr, the age, atrené:th. and all about it ; for you moat know I bare
had in my family, by tne father's side, two of tne rarest tasters that
were ercr known in La Mancha; and I will oive you a proof of their
skill. Í certain hogshead was mycn to each of tbem to taste, and
their opinion asked as to the caudition, quality, goodness, or badness,
oí the wine. One tried it with the tip of his tongue ; the other only
put it to his nose. The £rst said the wine aavoured of iron ; the
second ¡aid it had rather a twang of goat's leather. The owner pro-
tested that the vessel was clean, and the wine neat, ao that it could
not taste either of iron or leather. Notwithstanding this, the two
famous tasters stood positively to what they had said. Tine went
01 ; the wine was sold off, and, on cteaninx the cask, a small key,
hanging to a leathern thong, was found at the bottom. Judge then,
sir, whether one of that race may not be wdl entitled to give bis
opinion in these matters," " That beios the case," quoth be of the
wood, "we should leave off seeking adventures, and, since we have
a good loaf, let us not look for cheesecakes, but make haste and set
home to our own cots, for there God will find us, if it be His wiU."
"I will serve my master till he reaches Saragossa," quoth Sancho;
"then mayhap we shall torn over a new leaf,"

Thus the good squires went on talking, and eating and drinking,
until it was full time that sleep should give their tonnes a respite,
andtíUytheir thirst, for to quench it seemedimpossihle; and both of
them, stiU keeping hold of the almost empty bottle, fell fast asleep :
in wuich ntoatioD wq will leave them at present.

CHAPTER XIV,

/■I vHúA Ú eotliniud tA« adeenbirt qf tht tntjrU itf tU wwJ.

PCACEABLT sjid amicably the two knights continued to converse;
and among other things the history informs us that he of the wood
said to Don Quiiote, '' In fact, sir knight, I must confess that by
destiny, or rather by choice, I became enamoured of the peerless
Casildeade Vandalia;— peerless I call her because she is without her
peer, either in rank, beauty or form. Casildea repaid my honourable
and virtuous passion by employing me as Hercnlcs was emploved by
his step-mother, in many and various perils : promising me, at the ^id
of each of them, that the next should crown mv hopes ; but, aiaa I
she still goes on, adding link after link to the cnain of my laooura,
insomDch that they are now countless; nor can I tell when the^ are
to cease, and my tender wishes be Btatiied. One time she commanded
me to go and challeDge Giralda,* the famous giantess of Seville, who

* A brut atatue on a it«eple at Senile wluoh wttm Sot a wsatheroock.
, , . .A.OOgIC

sucocsn oí THE TWO ksiohti. S33

is M stont and Btnmg u if she were made of brass, and, though
never stirring from one spot, is the most ch&nReahle and unsteaar
woman in the world. I came, I saw, I conquered— I made her stand
still, and fixed tei' t« a points for, during a whole week, no wind
blew but from the north. Another time she cummaoded me to wciph
those' ancient statues, the fierce bulls of Guisando,* au enterprise
better suited to a porter than a knight. Another time she com-
manded me to plunge headlong into Cabra's caye (direful mandate !)
Mid bring her a particular detail of all the lies enclosed within its
dark abvss. I stopped the motion of Giralda, 1 weiz-hcd the bulls of
Guiianaa, I plunged headlong into the carem of CaDra, and brought
to light its hidden secrets : jet stdl my hopes are dead— 0 how dead !
And her commands and difdains alive— 0 how alive I In short, she
has now commanded me to travel over all the provinces of Spain, and
compel every knight whom I meet to confess that, in beauty, she
excels all otaers now in existence i and that Í am the meat valiant
and the moi>t enamoured knight in the aniveise. lu obedience to
this cormnand I have already traversed the greatest part of Spain, and
have vanquished divers knights who have had the presumption to
eontisdict me. But what I value myself moat upon is having van-
quished, in single combat, that renowed knight J)on Quixot« de U
Slancha, and made him confess that my Casildea is more beautifo)
than his Dulcinea ; and I reckon that, in this conquest alone, X have
vanquished all the knights in the world; for th)s Don Quiiote has

and nis honour, Í.. , .. _. __ _. __ ._.

merahle exploits of the eaid Don Quixote 1 therefore consider as
already mine, and placed to my account."

Don Quixote was amazed at the assertions of the knight of the

wood, and had been every moment on the point of giving him the lie;

but he Tcstrained himself that he might convict him of ^Isehood from

his own mouth; and therefore he said, very calmly, "'that you may

have vanquished, sir knight, most of ttte knights- errant of Spain, or

even of the whole world, I will not dispute; out that yon have con-

gnered Don Quixote de la Mancha I have much reason to doubt.

Some one res<:mbling him, 1 allow, it might have been, though, in

trath, I believe there are not many like him." "How say you P"

cried he of the wood; "by the oanopvof heaven, I fought witn Don

Quixote, vanquished him, and made nim surrender to me ! He is a

ed face, long and meagre limbs, grizzle-

e black moustaches, and stales himself

I £gure.' The name of his squire is

the back, and governs the reins, of a

"" "~ " "Ford, the mistress of his

I now, if I have not sufficiently proved
y sword, which shall make incredulity
knight," said Don Quixote, " and hear
ust know that this Don Quixote you
._ 1 have in the world, insomuch that he

S34 soy QcixoTS.

is, as it were, soother self; and, notwithstanding the very BOcnrste
description you have gicen of him, I am convinceJ, by the evidence
of mv si^nscs, that you hare never subdued bim. It is, indeed,
possible that, aa he is continuBlly persecuted hj enehauters, some one
of these may have assumed his shape, aud suffered himself to be van-
quishtd, in order to defraud liim of tfie fame which his exalted feafs
of chivalry have acquired him over the whole face of the earth. A

firoof of tneir malice occurred bnt a few days since, when they trans-
omied the figure and face of the beautiful Dulcinea del Toboso into
the I'urin of a mean rustic weuch. And now if, aft«r all, you doubt
the truth of what 1 say, behold the true Don Quixote himself before
you, re*dy to oouvince you of your error, by force of amis, on foot,
or on horseback, or in whatever manner you please," He then rose
up, and, graspitiir his sword, awaited the determination of the knight
of tliB wood, who, very caWy, said in reply, " A good paymaster
wants no pledge : he who coula vanquish Signot Don Quixol*, under
trausformation, maywell hope to make him yield in his proper person.
£ut as kuiglits-erraut should by no means perform their feats in the
dark, like robbers and ruHiaas, let ua wait for daylisht, that the sob
may witness our exploits ; and let the condition of our combat b^
thai tiie conquered shall remain entirely at the merov and disposal of
the conqueror; provided that he require nothing of him but what a
knight may with houour submit to." Don Quixote having eipre.ssed
himself entirely satisfied with these conditions, they went to »eek
their squires, whom they found snorinj;, in the very same posture as
that in which sleep had first surprised them. They were soon
avraLened by their masters, anct ordered to prepare the steeds, so that
they might be ready, at sunrise, for a bloody single combat. At this
intelligence Sancho was thunderstruck, and ready to swoon away with
fear forhiu master, from what he had been told, by tbt squire of the
wood, of his knight's prowess. Both the squires, however, without
Baying a word, went to seek their cattle ; and the three horses and
Dapple, having smelt each other oat, were found all very sociabi;
toKether.

You mnst understand, biotber," said the squire of the wood to
Sanciio, " that it is not the custom in Andalusia for the seconds ti>
stand idle, with their arms folded, while their godsons* are eng^ed
in combat. So this is to give you notice that, wiiile our masters are
■t it, we mast light too, and make splinters of one another." " This
custom, signer squire," answered Sancho, "may pass among ruffians ;
but amoii^ the squires of kniuhts-erraut no such practice is thought
of — ill least I have not heard my master talk of any such custiiin;
aud he knows by heart all the laws of kni^ht-eiTonlrv. But, sop-
posing there is any such law, I shall not obey it. I would rather pay
the penalty iMd upon such peaceable squires, which, I dare say,
caimot be above a couple of pounds of wax ;t and that will cost ine
less money than plasters to cure a broken head. Besides, how can I
fight when I have got no sword, and never had one in my life t" "I

• In tilta and toumamento the second» ware a kind of godfetheri to (ha

t Smtill oSenuee, in Spuiu, t
for the tapera in ohunbea, &0

É

BAHCHD B FBUCEKTUL TIXOUB. 836

Inoiraremedjforthat," said he of the wood; " here are a conple of
linca bags of the same size ; fou sliall take one, and I the other, and
■0 irith eqaal weapons, we will have a bout at bair-blowa." " Wilt
all mj heaxt," auswered Sancho; "for such a buttle will enl; dust
our jackets. "It must not be quite so, either," replied the other-
" for, lest the wind should blow them aside, we must put in them half
a dozen clean and smooth pebbles, of equal weight; úid thus we may
brush one another without much harm or damage." " BoAv of nij
father ! " answered Sancho, " wliat sable fur, what bottoms of cardea
OOttou, forsootb, jDu would put into the bass, that we mav not break
our bones to powder! But I tell you what, master, though the?
ghoold be filled with balls of raw silk, I shall not tieht. Let out
masters fight, and take the consequences ; but let us arint Bud live,
for time takes care to rid ns of our hvea, without our seeking wajs
to go before our appointed term and season." " Nay," replied he of
the wood, "do let us fight, if it be but for half an hour," No, no,"
answered Sancho, " I shall not be so rude nor ungnitefnl as to hava
any auarrel with a gentleman after eatmz and drinking with him.
Besides, who the devil can set about dry nghting without being pro-
T(jted to it ?" " If that be all," quoth he of the wood, " I can easily
it : for, before we begin our fight, 1 will come up, and just
ivo /iia three or four handsome cuffs, which will lay you flat at my
_jet, and awaken your oholei, though it slept sounder than a dor-
mouse." "At^nst that trick," answered Sancho, "I have another
not a «hit bebmd it ; which is to take a good cudgel, and, before yon
can come near enough to waken my choler, I will bastinado youis
into so sound a sleep, that it stall never aw^e but in another world.
Let me teU you I am not a man to suffer my face to be handled, so let
every one look to the arrow; though the safest way would be to let
that same choler sleep on— for one man knows not what another can
iki, and some people go out for wool and come home shorn. In alt
times, God Messed the peacemakers and cursed thepeace-breakers. If
a bailed cat turns intjj a lion, Ueayen knows what I, that am a man,
may turn into : and therefore I warn you, master squire, that all the
damage and mischief that may follow from cur nuarrel must be pkced
to your account." "Agreed," replied iie of the wood. "God send
us daylight, and we shall sec what is to be done."

And now a thousand sorts of birds, glittering in their gav attire,
began to chirp and warble in the trees, and in a variety at joyous
DcAes seemed to hail the blushing Aurora, who now displayed her
rising beauties from the bright areades and balconies of the cast, and
gently shook from her looks a shower of liquid pearls, sprinkling that
reviving treasure over all vegetation. The willows distilled their
delicious manna, the fonntuns smiled, the brooks murmured, the
woods and meads rejoiced at ber approach. But scarcely had hill and
dale received the welcome light of day, and objects become visible,
when the first thing that pre.acnted itself to the eyes of Sancho Fanza
was the squire of the wood's nose, whioh was so large that it almost
oveisbadowed his whole body. Its magnitude was indeed extraordi-
nary ; it was moreover a hawk-nose, full of warts and carbuucles, of
tJie colour of a mulberry, and hanging two fingers' breadth bciow
his mouth. The size, the colour, the carbuncles, and the crookedEPss,

6 reduced such a countenance of horror, that Sancho, at the sight
lereof, began to tremble from head to toot, and he resolved wituia

A.OOgIC

helmet baing dons, hb face was concealed; it was eiideat, lioweTei^
that he n'as a £tri>ni;-made man, not very taJl, and thai over bis
annoor he wore a, kind of surtout or loose cont, apparently of the
finest gold cloth, bespriakled with little moons of pulbhól glass,
vhicbmade svet^f^- and shining appearance: a large plume of fea-
thers, green, yellow, and white, waved above hia helmet. His lance,
which was leaning a^nst a tree, was vei? large and thicl:^ and
headed with pointed si eel, above a suan long. All these circumstances
Con Quixote attentively marked, ana inferred, from sppearancee, that
he was B very potent knight, but he was not therefore daunted, like
Sancho Panzai on the eojitrary, with a gallant spirit, he said to the
knight of the mirrors, " Sir knight, if your et^mess for combat has
not exhausted your courtesy, I entreat you to lift up your beaver &
little, that I may see whrneryouT oouutenauce corresponds wiUi

Sor gallant demeanour." " Whether vanquiühed or victorious in
Is enterprise, sir knight," answered he of the mirrors, " you wiU
have time and leisure enough for seeing me ; and if 1 comply not now
with jour request, it is because I think it would bean indi^ty to the
beauteous Casildea de Vandalia t<i lose any tinie in forcing you to
make the confesión required." " However, while we are mounting
our horses," said Don Quixote, "you can ti^l me whether I resemble
that Don Quixote whom you said youhadTanqiiished." " As like aa
one egg is to another," replied he of the mirrors ; " though, as yoa
say you are persecuted by enchanters, I dare not affirm that you are
actimy the same person," " 1 am satisGed that yoa acknowledge

SDH may be deceived," said Don Quísote ; " however, to remove all
□ubt, let us to horse, and in less time than you would have spent in
raising your beaver, if God, my mistress, and my arm avail uie, I will
see your facf^ and you shall De ooncinced I am not the vanquished
Don Quixote.

They now mounted wilhout more words, and Don Quixote wheeled
Rozinaate about, to take sufficient ground for the encounter, while
the other knight did the same; but before Don Quixote had gone
twenty paces, he heard himself called by his opponent, who, meeting
him hall-way, said, " Remember, sir knight, our agreement ; which is,
that the conouered shall remain at the discretíoa of the conqueror.
" I know it, answered Don Quixote, "provided that which ia im-
posed shall not transgress the laws of chivalry." " Certainly,"
answered he of the mirrors. At this juncture the squire's strange
nose presented itself to Don Quixote's sight, who was no less struck
than Sancho, insomuch that he looked upon him as a monster, or
some creature of a new species. Sancho, seeing his master set forth
to take his career, would not stay alone with Long-nose, lest, per-
chance, be should get a filip from that dreadful suout, which would
level him to the ground, either by force or fright. So he ran after
bis maslcr, holdiug by Ine stirrup-leather, andwhenhethouiclit it was
nearly linie for him U> face about, " 1 beseech your worship " he
cried, " before you turn, to help me into yon cork-tree, where I can
see better and more to my liking the brave battle you are going
to have with that knight?' " I rather believe, Sncho," quota
Don Quixote, " that thou art for mounting a sc&flold to see the

A.OOgIC

COHBAT WITH THB KSieHt OF T

ImO-sportt ^thoat danger." " To t«D ;cra the trath, air," answered
SMicho, " that squire's monstrous nose fills me witb dread, &nd I
dare not stand near bim." "It is indeed a fearfol eight." said
Don Quixote, " to au7 other but uijrself; come, therefore, and I Kill
lielpthee np."

While Don Qoisote was engaged in helping Sanoho np into the
oork-tree, the knight of the mirrors took as lü^ a compass as he
thoi^t necessary, and. beliering that Don Quixote luuf done the
■ame, without waiting for sound of trumpet, or aaj other signo], he
turned about his horae, <vlio nas not a whit more active nor more
sightljr than Rozinante, and at his best speed, though not exceeding a
middling trot, he advanced to encounter the enemj ; but, seeing hun
employed with Sancho, he reieed in his steed and stopped in the
midst of his career; forwhieh his horse was most thantful, being
nnable to stir any farther. Don Quixote, thbkiufc his enemj was
coming full speed against him, clapped spurs to Sozinante's lean
flanks, and made him so bestir himself that, as the history relates,
this was the only time in hia life that h<f approached to Bomething
like a gallop ¡ and with this unprecedented fnry he soon came np to
where ois adveraarr stood, striking his apnra rowel-deep into the sidea
of his charger, without being able to make him stir a finger's length
from the place where he hao. been checked in his career. At thia
fortonate tuncture Don Quixote met his adversorr, embarrassed not
onlv with ma horse but his lance, which he either knew not how, or
had not time, to fix in its rest, and therefore our knight, who saw not
these perplexities, assailed liím with perfect security, and with such
force mat be soon brought him to the ground, over bis norse's crupper,
leaving him motionless and without aav signs of life, Sancho, on
teeing this, immediately shd down from toe cork-tree, and in ail haste
tan to hia master, who alighted from Bozinante and went up to the
TBnqoished knisht, when, unlacing his helmet to see whether he was
dead, or if yet alive, to give him air, ne beheld — but who can relate what
he beheld— without causing amaiement, wonder, and tenor, in all that
hear itP He saw, sava the history, the very face, the very figure, the
very aspect, the very pays iogno my, the very effigy and seiublanoe of the
bachelor Sampson Carrasco 1 " Come hitber, Suncho," cried he aloud,
" and see, hot beUeve not ; make haste, son, and mark what wizards
and enchanters can do '. " Sancho approached, and seeing the face of
the bachelor Sampson Carrasco, he beaan to cross and bless himself a
thoQsaud times over. All this time the OTerthrown cavalier showed
no signs of life. " My advice is," said Sancho, " that, at all events,
ynnr worship should thrust your sword down the throat of this man,
who is so like the bachelor Sampson Carrasco : for in despatching him
you ma^ destroy one of those enchanters, jonr enemies." Thou sayest
not amiss," qaoth Don Quixote, " for the fewer enemies the better."
He then drew his sword to put Sancho's advice into execution, when
the squire of the mirrore came running np, bnt without the fnghtfnl
nose, and cried aloud, " Have a care. Siguor Don Quixote, what yon
do ; for it is the bachelor Sampson Gamsoo, your mend, and I am
his sqmie." Sancho seeing Ms face now shorn of its deformity,
exclaimed, " The nose ! where is the nose ? " " Here it is," said the
other; taking from his right-hand oocket a pasteboard nose, formed
and painted m the manner already ascribed ; uid Sancho, now look-
ing eanieatly at ^"n, ""idi another ezolamation, " Blessed Virgin

A.OOgIC

, _— ,(1 sqnire; ,

friend Sancho Panza, and I will teU joq presentJy what tricks brought
Die hither ; but now, good Sancho, entreat, in the mean time, jrour
master not t« hurt the Knight of the mirroisathisfeet ¡ forheii tml;
Tío other than the rash and ill-odnaed bachelor Sampson Carrasco,
our townamon."

B^ this time the knight of the mirrors began to recover his sensct,
which Don Quixote pcrc«irÍD^ he clapped the point of his naked
sword to his throat and said, "You ore a dead man, sir knight, if ;oq
confess not that the peerle&s Dulcinea del Toboso excels m beauty
your Casildea de Vandalia ; you must promise also, on my sparing
your life, to po to the city of Toboso, and present vourself before her
from me, that she may dispose of tou as she shall think fit; ood, if
she leaves yon at liberty, then shall you retarn to me without delay —
the fame of mr exploits being yoni guide— to relate to me the cir-
cumstances or your interview ; these conditions being strictly con-
formable to the terms ^rAd on before our encounter, and also to the
mlcs DÍ kniffht-errantrv." " I confess," said the fallen kuight, "that
the kidt Dulcinea del Toboso's torn and dirty shoe is preferable to the
ill-co;iilied, though clean locks of Casildea ; and I promise to go and
return from her presence to yours, and give you the eiact ana parti-
cular account which you require of me,"

" Vou must likewise confess and belisTe," added Don Qiiiiote,
" (!iat the knight you vanquished was not Don Qidiotede la Mancha,
but some one resemblii^ biin ; as I do confess and believe that,
though resembling the bachelor Sampson Carrasco, you are not he,
but some other whom my enemies have purposely transformed into
his likeness to restrain the impetuosity of my rafe, and make me use
with moderation the glory of my conquest." "I confess, judge, and
believe everything, precisely as you do yourself," answered the dis-

("ointed knight; and now suffer me to rise, I beseech you, if my
iruises do not prerent me." Don Quixote raised him with the assist-
ance of his squire, on whom Sanclio still kept his eyes fixed; and
thouzh from some conversation that passed between them he had
much reason to believe it «as really his old friend Tom Cecial, he was
so preiiossesscd by all that his master had said about enchanlcrs, that
he would not trust his own eves. In short, both master and man
persisted in their error; and the knizht of the mirrors, with his
squire, much out of humour and in ill-pliirht, went in search of some
convenient place where he might seorcloth himself and splinter his
ribs. Don Qidsote and Sancho continued their jonmev to Saragossa,
where the historv leaves them to give some account ol the knight tí
the mirrors and his well-snouted squire.

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTER XT.

Í nf the hiifflit of lie min

-J, and from whose proniiae he hoped to leam whether his

adored mistress still ramainea in a state of encliantnient. But Don
Quixote cipecled one thiog, and he of the mirrors inteuded another ;
hia only care at present being to get, as sr>0D aa possible, piasters for
Ms bruiaes. The history then jirucccda to tell ns that whea the
bachelor Sampson Carrasco advised Don Quixote to rcaume his
functions of knight-ermntr)', be bad previously consulted with the
priest and the barber upon the best means of inducing Don Quisote
to stay peaceably and quietly at home ; and it was agreed by general
vote, as well as by the particular ndviee of Carrasco, that they should
let Don Qniiote make another sally (since it seemed impossible to
detain biin), and that the bachelor should then also sally forth lute a
kn^ht-errant, and take an opportunitv of engaffing him to fight ; lud
after vanquishing' him, which they held to be an easy matter, he
ahoald remain, according tfl a previous agreement, at the disposal <¿
the conqueror, who should command him to return home, and n(rt
quit it lor the space of two years, or till he had received further
orders from him. Thev doubted not out that he would readily cornel/,
rather than infringe tne laws of chivalry ; and they hoped that, during
this interval, he might forget his follies, or that some means might be
discovered of curing his malady. Carrasco enga;;ed in the enterprise,
and Tom Cecial. Sancho Paaia'a neighbour, a merry shallow-bcainea
fellow, proffered his service as squire. Sampson armed himself in
the manner already described, and Tom Cecial fitted the counterfeit
nose to bis face for the purpose of disguising himself ; and, following
tbe same road that Bon Quixote had taken, they were not for on
when the adventure of Death's car took place ; tjut it was in the
wood they overtook him, which was the scene of the late action, and
where, had it not been for Don Quixote's extraordinary conceit that
the bühelor was not the bachelor, that gentleman, not meeting even
80 much as neata, where he thought to find birds, would have been
incapacitated for ever from taking the degree of licentiate.

Tom Cecial, after the unlucky isst;e of their expedition, said to the
bachelor, " Most certainly, Signor Carrasco, we have been rightly
served. It is easy to plmi a thing, but very often difficidt to mt
tbronph with it. Don Quixote is mad, and we are in our senses; ne
gets off sound and laughing, and your worship remains sore and sor-
rowful: now, pray, which is the greater madman, lie who is so because
he cannot hdp it, or he w)io is so on purpose P" " Tlie difference
between these two sorts of madmen is," replied Sampson, "that he who
cannot help it will remain so, and he who diliberately plats the fool
may leave off when he thinks fit." "That being the case, said Tom
CecioL "I was mad when I desired to be your worship's sqaire,and

840 DOK quixon.

now I deslíelo be M no longer, but shall hasten borne agtun." "llwt
jon mt^ do," aosireTed Sampson, " but, for mrself, I cannot think of
returning to mine, till I have soondly liangeduiiB same Don Quixote.

It is not now with the hope of onñug him of his madness, that lahaU
seek him, but a desire for revenge: the pain of mj nbs will not
allow me to entertain a more ohantaole purpose." In this homour
the7 went on talking till tliej came to a village, where they liuUlf
met with a bone-setter, who undertook to cure the unlbrtunate
Sampson. Tom Cecial now returned home, leaving his master medi-
tating schemes of revenge ; and thoogh the historf will have occasion
to mention him again hereafter, it mnst now titead the moüont of
mr tóumphant Vnigtit,

CHAPTEE XVL
Of viof b^d Don Qnünf* mik a ««rUy gtnUema» qf Ia UoMcha,

Don Quixote pursued his joumef with pleasure, satisfaction, and
self-complacencf, as already described : imagminK, because of his late
victory, that he was the most valiant knight the world could then
boast of. He cored neither for enchantments nor enchanters, and
looked upon all the adventures which should henceforth beM him as
Klreadf achieved and broujrht to a happy conclasion. He no longer
remembered bis innumerable sufferings during; the progress of nis
chivalries : the stoning that demolished half hu nindets, the ingra-
titude of the galle^-alaves, nor the andooit; of the languesian camera
and their sbower of pack-staves : — in short, he inwordlr exclaimed
that, could be devise any means of disenchantiug his ladj- Diiicioea,
he should not envy the highest fortune that ever was, or could b^
attained by the most prosperous ksiglit-erraut of past ages !

He was wholly absorbed in these reflections, when Sancho said to
him, " la it not strange, sir, that I have still before my eyes the
monstrous nose of m; neighbour Tom CeciolF" "And dost thou
really beheve Sancho," said Don Quixote, " that the knight of the
mirrors was the bachelor Sampson Carrasco, and his squire thy friend
Tom CeciolF" "I know not what l<i say about it," answered
Sancho : " I Only know that the marks he gave me of my hous«^ wife,
and children, conld he given by nobody else ; and his face, when the
nose was o^ was Tom Cecial's, just as I have often seen it— for ha
Uvea in the next boose to my own ; the tone of his voii^ too, was
the very same." " Come, come, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, " let
ns reason upon tbis matter. Hotr can it be imagined that the bachelor
Sampson Carrasco should come as a knight-errant, aimed at all poii^a,
to fight with me F Was I ever his enem^ F Have I ever given bim
occasion to bear me ill-will F Am I his rival P Or has he embraced
the profession of arms, envying the feme I have acquired by themF"
" But, then, what are we to say, sir," answered Sancho, " to tie
likeness of ttiat knight, whoever he may be, to the hacbelur Sampson

r, _..it: ^—7 neighbour Tom Cecial f If it be

de like

BO EnCOmTBB VITH THE eXKTLZMA» IK OKKXR. SU

fbMe two abore all othersin theTorlHP" "Trust me. Sandio, the
whole ¡a an artifice," answered Don Quixote, " and ft Mck of the
iricked marciana who persecute me. Knowing that I might be TÍo-
torioQS, they cunninfrly contrived that my vanquished enemy should
assume the appearance of the worthy bachelor, in order that the
friendship which I bear him might interpose between the ed(^ of my
iword aod the vigour of my arm, and by checking my just indigntt-
tion, the wretch might escape with life, who, by fraud and yiolenoe^
sought mine. Indeed, already thou knowest by eiiierience, Sancho,
low easy a thing it is for encnanlers to change one face into another,
making the fair too), and the fool bit ; since not two dafs ago, then
sawest with thine own eyes the grace and heanty of the paerieta
Dulcinea in their hig-hest perfection, while to me she appeared under
the mean and disgusting extenor of a rude country-wench, with
cataracts on her eyes, and a bod smell in her mouth. If, then, the
wicked enchanter durst make so foul a transformation, no wonder at
this deception of his, in order to snatch the glory of victory out of
my hands ! However, I am gratified in knowing that, whatever was
the form he pleased to assume, mv triumph over oim was complete."
"Heaven knows the truth of all things," answered Sancho; who,
well knowing the transformation of Dulcinea to have been a device of
hia own, was not quite satisfied with his master's elucidations : hot
he would make no reply, lest he should betray himself.

While thus discnurang, they were overtaken by a gentleman,
mounted on a very fine ftcEi-bitteii mare, and dressed in a green cloth
riding-coat, faced with mnrry-ooloured velvety and a hunter's cap of
the same ; the mare's fnmiture corresponded in colour with his dress,
and was adapted to field sports ; a Moorish seimitar hung at his
shoulder-belt, which was green and gold ; his buskins -were wrought
like the belt, and his spurs were not gilt, but green, and noliahed go
neatly that, as they suited his clothes, they looked better than if they
' had been of pure gold. He saluted them courteously, and, spurring
'his mare, was passing on, wiien Don Quixote said to him. If yon
ait travelling our road, signor, and are not in haate, will you favour
us with your company?" "Indeed, signor," replied he, "I should
not have passed on, but I was afraid your horse might prove unruly
in the company of my mare." " Sir, answered Sancho, " if thai be
alL yon may safely trust your mare ; for ours is the noblest and beet-
behaved horse in the world ; and, at suoh a time, was never gnilty of
a njguish trick in his Ufe, but once, and then my master and I paid
for It sevenfold. I say, again, your worship need not fear ; for if she
were served up betwixt two dishes, I assure you, he would not so
much as look her in the face." The traveller checked his mare, his
cariosity being eicited by the appearance of Don Quixote, whu rode
without his helmet, which Sancno carried like a cloak-hag, at the
pommel of his ass's pannel ; but if he stared at Don Quixote, hewss
nnnself surveyed witb no less attention by Ihe knight, who conceived
him to be some person of consequence. His age seemed to be abont
fifty, though he oad but few grey hairs ; his face was of the aoniline
form, of a conntenance neither too gay, nor too grave, and by his
whole exterior it was evident that he was no ordinary person. It was
not less manifest that the traveller, as he contemplated Don Quixote,
thought he had never seen anj-one like him before. With wonder he
gated upon his tall person, his meagre, saUow visage, his lank hone,
,, A.iiOglC

tus nos ^ütiau.

in tb»l

like which nothing, for many oenturies past, h:
country.

Don Qaiiot« perceived that he had attracted the attention of the
traveller, and, being the pink of courtesy, and always desirous c^
pleasing, he antioipsted his i^uestions, bv sajing, "Tou are probably

ft knight in search of adventores. I left my country, mortgaged my
estate, quitted ease and pleasures, and threw myself mto the arma oÍF
fortune. I wished to rerive cliivalry, so long deceased ; aud for some '
time past, exposed to many viciasitudea, atumblios in one place, aud
tiaing again m another, I have prosecuted my design ; succouring
vidawa, protecting damacLs, aiding wives and orphans— all the natural
ftnd proper duties of knights-errant. And thus, by many Taloront
and Christian eiploita. I have aoqiiircd the deserved honour of being
in print tbroughont all or most (^ the nations in the world. Thirty
thouaand coriies are already published of niy liistory, and, heaven
permitting, tbírty thousand thousands more arc likely to be printed,
f inallv, to sum up all in a single word, know that I am Don Qoiiote
de la Mancha, otherwise called the Xnight of the Sorrowful Figure I
Though self-praise depreciates, I am compelled sometimes to pro-
noonce my own Bommendationa, but it is only when no friend b pre-
sent to perform that office for me. And now. my worthy sir, that
jou know my profession, and who I am, you will cease to wond£r at
my appearance."

After an int«rval of silence, the traveller in green said, in reply,
"You Me indeed right, signor. in conceiving me to be struck by your
iqtpewance ; but you have rather increased than lessened mv wonder
by the aoconnt yoa give of yourself! How ! Is it possible that there
ore knigbtB -errant now in the world, and that there are histories
Iffinted of real chivalries? I had no idea that there was anybody now
upon earth who relieved widows, succoured damsels, aided wives, <x
protected orphana: nor should yet have believed it, had I not been
now convinced with my own eyes. Thank Heaven ] the history 7011
mention of your exalted and true achievements must surely casi mto
oblivion all the fables of imaginary knights-errant which abound ao
much, to the detriment of good morals, and the prejudice and neglect
of ^nnine historv." "Tliere is much to be said," answered I><hi
Quixote, " apon tneqneation of the truth or fiction of the histories of
taúahtsirTant." "Why, is there any one," Miawered he in irreeai,
"who doubts the falsehood of those histories?" "I doubt it,
replied Don Quísote— "but no more of that at present; for, if we
travel together much farther, I hope to convince you, sir, that j]OB
liAve been wrong in auffering yourself to be carried in the stream with
those who cavil at their truth." The traveller now first began to
anspect the state of his companion's intellect, and watched for a
farther oonfirmation of hia suspicion: hut, before they entered into
any other discourse, Don Quixote said that, since he had so fre^
described himself, he hoped he might be permitted to ask who he waa.
To which the traveller answered, " 1, sir knigbt of the sorrowful
igaio, am agentleman, and native of a village where, if it picase
Heaven, we sfikll dine lo-day. My fortune is affluent, and m,v name
ú Don Dtego de Miranda, i spend my time with my wife, n^
A.OOgIC

THX SBKTLXKAH IN GBEEN. Si8

efiildren, and my frienda : m; diversioiu are hunting and flabtng; but
I keep neither hawks nor greyhounds, only same decoy partri^es,
and s stout ferret. I have about six dozen of books, S))auisb ana
Latin, soDiu of liistory, and some of deTotion : those of chivalry hnve
not come over ray threshold. I am more inoliued to tlie reailiiig of
profane than devout authors, provided they are well writTeu, iuge-
niouB, and harniless intlieirtenaeucv, lhougIi,in truth, there are very
few books of this kind in Spain. Soiiioiinies I eat vriili my ueigb-
bours and friends, and frequently I invite thetii ; my table is neat and
dean, and not púrsimoniouslj furnished. I slander no one, uoi do I
liiten to slander from others. 1 pry not into other men's lives, nor
acrutinÍM their actions. I hear mass every day; I share my aub-
BtanoB with the poor, making no parade of my Kood works, lest
hniocnsy and vain-glory, tbose insidioua enemies of the liumaa breast,
Bttould find access to mine. It ia always my endeavour to make
peace between tho^ who are at variance. I am devoted lo our
tilc«sed Lady, and ever trust in the infinite mercy of Uud our

Sandio was very attentive to the account of this aentleman's life,
which appeared to him to be food and holy; and. thinking that one
of such a character must needs work miracles, he flung himself off hii
D^ple, and, running up to him, he laid hold of his right stirrup ;
then, devoutly, and almost with tears, he kissed his feet more than
once. "What mean you bvthi», brother?" said the geuileman;
" why these embraces ?" " rra^ let me kiss on," answered Sancho ;
" for your worship is the first samt on horseback I ever saff in all mjr
life," "I am not a saint," answered the gentleman, "but a ereat
ainner : you, my frii^nd, must indeed be good, as your simijücity
proves." Sancho retired, and mounted his ase again ; having forced
a smile from the profound gravity of his niajter, and caused fresh
Mtonishment in Don Diego.

Don Quixote then asked him how many children he bad, at the
same time observing that the ancient philosophers, being without the
true knowledge of Giod, held supreme happmess to consist in the

§'fts of nature and fortune, in having many friends and many good
lildren. " I have one son," answered the gentleman ; " and if I
had him not, perhaps I should think mvself happier ; not that he is
bad, but because he is not ail tliat I woitld have nun. Ue is eighteen
rears old : six of which he has spent at Salamanca, learning the Latin
and Greek languages, snd, when I wished him to proceed to other
«tndiea, I found him infatuated with poetry, and could not prevail
upon mm to look into the law, which it was my desire he should
study ; nor into theology, the queeu of all sciences. I was desirous
that he should be an honour to his family, since «e live in an age in
which useful and virtuous hterature is rewarded by the sovei'eigu— I
■ay virtuous, for letters without virtue are pearls on a dunghill. He
puses whole days in cxaminiuz whether Homer expressed himself
well in such a verse of the Iliad; whether Martial, in such an
epnram, be obscene or not ; whether such a Une in Virgil should be
imderstood this or that way ;— in a word, all his conversation is with
these and other ancient poets, such as Horace, Persiua, Juvenal, and
Tihulliu ; for the modern Spanish authors he holds in no esteem. At
the same time, in spite of the contempt he seems to have for Spanish
poetrr, his tbooghta are at this time entirely engrossed by a para-
A.OOgIC

3H SOK QUIXOTE.

phrase on fotir Tenes, sent hini ¿«m Salainuicai, and vhicli, I believe,
u intended for a scholsstio priie."

" Children, mj good sir,'' replied Don Qnixote, " are He fieah and
blood of their párente, and, irfaether ^d or bad, tnnat be loved and
ohenshed as part of ifiemselTes, It is the Antj of parents to train
them np, from their infancy, in the paths of virtne and i^ood muinm,
and in Christian discipline, bo that the; ma; become the etaff of theb
ace, and an hononi to their poaterit j. Ab to foreine: them to this car
that pnrauit, 1 do not hold it to be rÍR;ht, thoag-h I think there is b
propriety in advising; them ; and, when the student is so fortunate as
to Have an inheritance, and therefore not compelled to study for his
subsistence, I should be for indulging him in the pursuit of that
science («which his eenius is most inchued; and, anhou^li that of
poetry be less useful than deliKhtfu), it does not usnalty reflect dis-
gntoe on its votaries Poetry I regard as a tender virgin, young and
eitremely beautifnl, whom divers other virgins— namely, all the oth«
sciences — are assidnone to enrich, to polish, and adorn. She is to be
served by them, and they are to be ennobled throagh her. But this
same virgin is not to be rudely bandied, nor dmsged through the
streets, nor exposed in the inarkct-ploce, nor posted on the comers of
gates of palaces. She is of soexquisite a nature that he who knows
how to treat her will convert her into gold of the most inestimable
value. He who posaeases her sbould guard her with vigilanoe.
neither suffering her to be polluted by obscene, nor degraded by dull ana
frivolous works. Although she must be in no wise venal, see is not,
therefore, to despise the fair reward of honourable labours, either in
heroic or dramatic composition. Buffoons must not come near her,
neither must she be approached by the ignorant vnlgnr, wbo hove no
sense of her channe ; and this term is equaLlr applicable to all ranks ;
for whoever is ignorant is vulgar. He, tnereforc, who, with tie
qnalificatioDS I nave named, devotes himself to poetij, will be
hononred and esteemed by all nations distinguished for intelleotnal
cultivation.

" With regard to your son's contempt for S^wniah poetry, I think
he is therein to blame. The neat Homer, being a Gredc, did not
write in Latin, nor did Vii^^ who was a Bximan, write in Greek. In
fact, aE the ancient poets wrote in the language of their native
country, and did not hunt after foreign tongues to exprees their own
sublime conceptions. This custom, therefore, shonla prevail among
all nations : the Gennan «oet should not be undervalued for writing
in his own tongue ; nor the Castilian— nor even the Biscsvnn— for
writing the longuo^ of his province. But yonr son, I should
imagine, does not dislike the Spanish poetry, bnt poets wbo are un-
acq^nunted with other languages, and deficient ill that knowledge
which mijrht enrich, embelTiah, and invigorate tbeir native powers:
althou(;h, indeed, it is generally said that the gift of poesy is innate
— that is, a post is bom a poet, and thus endowed by üeaven, Sfipa-
rentlv without study or art, composes things which vetify the sayins.
Jiit deta in noiii, &c. Thus the poet of natnr^ who improves hiioseU
hj art, rises far above him who is merely the cr^nie of stndy ; Ñi
may improve, but cannot surpass nature ; and therefore it is the nniau
of both which produces the perfect poet. Sufer, tben, your sou to
proceed in the career which the star of his genius points out ; for,
bung so good a scholar, and having alnod; bappilj mounted the first
,, .A.OOgIC

HIS KOftl TALOSOVS ADTENTUai. S4&

■tep of the adejwe»— that of the leuned Ian«ia«»— he may, by their
ai^ attain the sumniit of literary emmence, vhicu is no lesa ui hononjc

a ornameiit to a gentleman than a mitre to tbe ecclesiastic, <._

the lomt robe to the kwjtr. If your son write personal aatires, chide
him, and tear his perfomi anees ; but if he write like liorace, repre-
benoing vice in ^neral, commend him ; for it is laudable in a poet to
employ his pen m a TÍrtuons cause. Let him direct the shafts of satire
acMitst vice, in all its varions forms, but not level them at indiTiduals.
lue eoiBO who, rather than itot iudnl^ thtir mischievous wit, will
hacard a disgmoeful bBDishment to the Isles of Postas.* If the poet
be correct in his morals, his verse will partake of the same purity :
tbe pen is the tougne of the mind, and what his conceptions are, suoh
will De bis productions. The wise and virtoous subject who is gifted
vith a poelio genius is ever honoured and enriched by his sovereign,
and crowned with the leavea of the tree which the thunderbolt hurts
not, aa a token that all should respect those brows which are so
hoTWonbly adorned."

Here Don Quixote pansed, baring by his rational discoono made
his Dompanioa waret m tbe opioion be bad formed of his insanity.
Sancho, in tbe mean time, not finding tbe conversation to his taste,
bad Boue a short diatanoe out of the road to bc^r a little milk of some
shepherdB whom he saw milking their ewes : and just as the traveller,
b^hly satisfied with Don Qmiote's iugennit; and good sense, was
about to resume the conversation, Don Quixote perceived a eart with
n^al banners advancing on the tame road, and, believiui^ it to be
something that fell under his jurisdiction, he called aloud to Sancho
to bring him his helmet. 8andio immediately left the shepherds, and
pricking up Dapple, hastened to his master, who was about to be
engaged in a moat teixiflc and stupemdooa adveatore.

CHAPTEH XVn.

m«ri>» Ü ul fvA Ai txíTtmt and ktgk^ foixl at itkiiA Üu unhtaTd-'if
eomras* ¡if Don QuixuU tier did or totr anH arriv* ; •eisi. At hajipy
eendiuien of fiU advtriM/n qf lAi iioiu.

LiTTLB expecting a fresh adventure, Sancho, as the history care-
fully relates, was leisurely bnying some curds of the shepherds; and,
being summoned in sncb baste to his master, he knew not what to do
with tíiem, nor how to carry them ; so that, to prevent their being
WHrted, be pouted them into the helmet; and, satisfied with this ex-
cellent device, he harried away to receive the commands of his lord.
"Sancho," said the knight, " give me my helmet : for either I know
little of adventures, or that which I descry yonder is one that will
ohli^ me to have recourse to arms." He of the green riding-coat,
heanug this, looked on all sidee, and could see nothing but a cart
comiug towards them, with two or tbree small Bags, by wbicb he
thought it probable that it was conveying some of the king's money.

Id.

S16 DOS qmxoiB.

He mentioned his conjectnre to DoDQoixote i bat he beeded lúm not
— his imagination wm too much possessed by ftdventures, and his
only reply was, "Fore-wamed, fore-ftriLied ; to be preimred is half
the viclorv. I know, by eipenence, that I We enemies both visible
and invisible, and I know not when, nor from irhat iguiirter, nor at
what time, nor in what shape, they may attack me." He then took
his helmet from Sancho's bond before he had discharged the curds.

terrible adventure. Gjve me soraetliing to wipe myself, Sancuo; for
thif copious sweat blinds me." Sancho said nuthii^, but gave him a
cloth ; at the same time, thanking Heaven that his master bad not
found out the truth. Don Quiiote wiped himself, and took off hÍ3
helmet to see what it was, so cool to bis head : and, observing some
white lumps in it, he put them to his nose, and sn^elliug them, "By
tjie lady oi my sovL he exclaimed, "these are curds which thou
bast put here, thou base unmannerly squire ! " Sancho replied with
much coolness and cunning, " If they ara curds, sir, ¿\e them to me
and Í will eat tliem— no, now I think of it, the devil may eat them
forme, for iie only could have put them there. What! lofiertofoul
your worship's helmet! Egad! it seems as if I had tny enchanters
tO(^ who persecute me as a creature and member of your worship,
and have put that tUthinesa there to protoke your wrath agidnst me.
But, truly this time they Imve missed their aim : for I trust to my
master's good judsment, who will consider that liave neither curd¿
nor cream, nor anything like it; and that if I had, I sliould sooner
have put them into my stomach than into your worship's helmet."
" Well," said Don Quiiote, " there may be something in that." The
gentleman, who had been observing all that had passed, was asto-
nished; and still more so at what followed; for Don Quixote, after
having wiped hia beai face, beaid, wid helmet, again put it on, and
filing himself firm in bis stirrups, adjusting bis sword, and grasping
his lance, be exclaimed, " Now, oome what may, I am prepared to
encounter Satan himself ! "

They were soon overtaken by the cart with fla^s, which was
attended only by the driver, who rode upon one of the mides, and a
sitting uDon the fore part of it. Don Quixote planted himself

just before thbm, and said, "Whither gp ye, brethren? What «
riage is this? Wliat does it contain, ana what are those banners i
"The cart is mine," answered the carter, "and in it are two fierce
lions, which the general of Oran is sendmg to court as a present to
bis mqesty ; the flags belong to our Uege the king, to show that what
is in the cart belongs to him." " And are the lions large ?" demanded
Don Quiiote, " Lwger never came from Africa to Spain," said tha
man on the front of the cart ; " I am their keeper, and in my time
have had charge of many lions, but never of any so large as these.
They are a mole and a female ; the male is in the first c;\^, and the
female is in that behind. Not having eaten to-day, they are now
hungry ; and therefore, sir, stand aside, for we must make haste to
the place where they are to be fed." " Wat '. " said Don Quixote,

■WrtR THI U05B.

of this field <iTÍll I iTiBke them know who Don Quixote de la Manclia
is, in spite ot the enchanters that sent them hither to nae," " So,
so," quoth the gentleniiin to himself, " our good knight has now given
M» a specimen of what he is ; doubtless the cards nave softened his
sknli, and made his brains mellow." Sancho now coming op to him,
"Por Hearen's sake, air," cried he, " hinder my mtiater from meddlina
with these liona ; for if he doea, they will tear ua all to pieces.
" What then, ia your master so mad," answered the gentleman, " that
you realty fear ne wil! attack such fleraa animals f" "He is not
mad," answered Sancho, "but daring." " I will make hiiu desist,"
rcphed the genllemm ; and, going np to Don QaJxote, who was im-
portuning the keeper to open the cages, "Sir," said he, "knights-
errant shotild engage in adventuTes that, at least, afford some pro-
spect of success, and not such as are altogether aeaperate ; for the
Talour which borders on temerity has in it more of madness than
courage. Besides, sir knight, these lions do not come t« assail you :
they are going to be preaented to his mnjeaty ; and it iSj therefore
improper to detain them or retard their journey." " Sweet sir,'
answered Don Quiiote, " go hence, and mmd your decoy partrid^
and your stout ferret, and leave erery one to his functions. This is
mine, and I shall see nhcthcr these gentlemen lions will come ^^nst
meornot." Then,tnTning to the keeper, he said, "I tow to Heaven,
Don Bascal, if Hiou dost not inatantly open the cages, with this lance
I will pin thee to the cart." The carter seeing that the armed Innstio

wasi ' • "" ' -' ' •■ • ■ ■ ■ ■"-

let»

■Tons _ ^ -w.. .^.«u. .... ^^^^^ .... «.v.^.» ^^ _—»» ... ».« .^^^^^^ .^.
ever, as I have no other means of living than by tüis cart and these
nulra." "Incredulous wretch!" crieíDon Qoiíotft "luyóte and
do as thoa wilt ; bnt thon sliajt soon see that thy tnmble might bar»
been spared."-

The carter aHghted and tmroked in groat haste. The keeper then
«Eud aloud, " Bear witness, all here present, that against my will, and
}sy compulsion, I open the cages and let the hoos loose. I protest
agunst what this gentleman is doing, and declare all the mischief
done by these beasts shall be placed to his account, with my salary
uid perqmsites over and above. Pray, gentlemen, talce care of your-
selves before I open the door; for, as to myself, I am sure they will
do me no hurt. Again the gentleman pressed Don Quixote to
desist from so mad an action ; oeclaring to him that he was thereby
provoking God'a wratL Don Quixote replied that he knew what he
was doing. The gentleman rgoined, and entreated him to consider
well of it. for he was certtanly deceived. "Nay, sir," replied Don
Quixote, if you will not be a spectator of what you think willproTe
a tragedy, spar yonr flea-bitten, and save yoorselí." Sancho too
besooght him, with tears in his eyes, to desist from an enterprise
compiu«d with which that of the windmills, the dreadful one of the
fulling-mills, and in short, all the exploits he had performed in the
whole conne of hi> lite, were mere tarta and oheeeecakea. "Q»-
, , . .A.OOgIC

HS iKiit Qirizon.

aider, ñr," added Sandio, " here Is no enohaDtmeiit, nor aiiTtlúi^ like
it ; for I taw, through the (pttes and chinks of the cage, the paw of
a true lion ; and 1 guess, by the size of its claw, that it is oi^er
than a mountain." "Thjltais," answered Don Quixote, "would
make it appear 1« thee Ur^r than half the world, fietire, Sanobtv
and leave me i and if I pensh bere, thou knovest our old t^reemait ;
repair to Diucinea— I saf no more." To theae he added other ex-
pressions, whioh showed the firmness of hia puivose, and that aU
usiiment would be fniitleas. The gentleman would fain hare oom?
pelled him 1o desist, but thought himself onequally matched in
weapons and armour, and that it would not be prudent to tagatg vith
a madman, whose violence and menaces against the ke«3)w wen MW
redoubled i the gentleman therefore spuned his mare, Sanofao ha
Dapple, and the carter Ma mules, and all endeavoured to get u fai
off as possible from the cart, before the lions were let looH. Sanc^
bewailed the death of his master; verily bebeving it would now
OTMtake him between the paws of the lions; ho cuiaed his hard for-
tone, and the unlucky hour when he again entered into his aenieeL
Bui, notwithstanding his tears and lamentations, he kept arging oo
his Dapple to get far enou^ from the oart. The keeper seeing that
the fo^tives were at a good distanoe, repeated his argumente and
entfeaUes. but to no purpose : Don Quixote answered that he heard
him, and desired he would trouble huoself no more, but immediataij
obey his commands, and open the door.

Whilst the keeper was unbarring the Ant nt<v Don Quixote
deliberated within himself whether it would be nest to engage on
horseback or not ; and finallj determined it should be on foot, at
Bozinante niiiifbt be terrified ¿t the si^t of the lions. He therefore
leaped &om his horse, flung aside his lance, braced on his shield, and
drew his sword ; then slowly advancing with marvellous intreinditf
and an undaunted heart, be planted himself before (he lion's oag^
devoutly ooniuiending himseU £rat to God, and then to hia mistrsai
Dulcinea

Here the author of this fiuthful history breaks out into the following
exolamation :— " 0 most magnaoimons, potent, and beyoad oU ei-

Ere«sion courageona, Don Quixote de la Mancha ! Thou mirror of
eroes, and grand exemplar of valonr 1 Thou new tod BMood Daa
Manuel de Leon— the glory and pride of Spanish knighta! In what
words shall I describe this tremendous exploit — how render it oredilds
to succeeding anaP What praise or pan^yiio can be imagjnect
though above all hyperbolea hnierbolical, that does not bekMw to
thee r Thou who, alone, firm, fearless, and intrepid, armed with a
single sword, and that none ol the sharpest, defended with a single
shield, and that neither broad nor bright, stoodest expecting and
braving two of the fiercest lions that ever roared in Libyan dcaert!
But let thine own unrivalled deeds speak thy praise, valoruw
Manchesan ! for I have no words equ^ to the lofty theme." Hem
the author ends his exclamation, uid resumes the thread of the
history.

The keeper seeing Don Quixote fixed in his posture, and that ha
oonld not avoid letting loose the lion without incuiring the resent-
ment of the angry and daring knight, set wide open the door of the
first cage, where the monster lay, which appeared to be of an extra-
ordinary size, and of a hideous and frightfkd aspect. The first thing

TBX MOST laeHTT COXtil TTTH TBE UOHS. 349

ttie omtiiTe did vu to tom himself roond in the cage, reach ont a
pav, and stiet^ himself at foil lei^th. Thed he opeued his mouth
and fawned itxj leisiirel;; after which he threw out some half-yaid
of tooTue, «heravith he ucked and washed hia face. This done, he
tímistnia head out of the etm, and stared round on all mdea with
CTM like ted-hot ooola: a sight to have etrock temerity itself with
tenrmrl Don Quixote obserred him with fixed attention, impatient
for him to ]e¡íp out of his den, that he might grapple with hjm and
ttar him to pieces ; to such a height of extravagance was he trans-
Sorted b; Us nnhewd'of freniy ! But the generouE iion, more gentie
mm anóganL taking no notice of his Taponring and bravadoes, ofler

poat«iiors to Don Quixote, o^mlT and qoietlr laid himself down again
m the cage. Upon which Don Quixote ordered the keeper to give
" a wme blows, and ■ ■■ ■ ' ■> ■""' . ^ -..

," auwered tne ki

mthecage. Upon wl _ ,. . „_ .

háa tome blows, and provoke him to come forth, " That J will not

js done, which is everything in point of courage, and do not

ttmi>t fortnne a seoond time. The hem has the door open to him and
tbe wMrtjr to come foi'th: and since he has not yet done so, he will
not eome ont to-day. l^e greatDesa of your worship's oonr^e ia
abtady sofieientty ahown : no brave combatant, as I take it, ia boond
to do more than to challenge bi* foe, and wait his coming in the field i
and if the antagonist does not meet him, the disgrace falls 01 ' '

irbile the challeaga: is entitled to the crown of victory." " ^at ia
" nawered Don Quixote ; " shot the door, and give me a ccr-
n the beet form yon can, of what you have Tien

serionn. It should be known that yoa opened the door to the tion ;
tiMt I waited for him; that he came not oat; aeoin I waited for him:
again be came not out; and again he laid himself down, lam bound
to BO more — enidkBntments, avaunt I 5o Heaven prosper right and
taatiM^ and trae chivalry I Shut the door, as I told thee, while I
make a swuid to the fugitive and absent, that from your own month
tfaer may have an acooDnt of this exploit."

"{ka keeper closed the door, and Don Quixote, having fixed the linen
dodi with which he had wiped the curds from his face npon the point
of hia lanoe, began to hail the troop in the distance, who, with the
gentlnnan in green at their head, were still retiring, but looking round
at ever; stent, when, suddenly Btuioho observed the signal of the white
áaÜt. Hay I be hanged, cried he, "if my master has not van-
qoii^ed the wild beaste, for he is csUiág to us ! " They all stopped,
■nd saw that it was Don Quixote that mde the sign; and, their fear
in anne d^ree abating tlúr ventured to return slowly, till thev could
diatincüy tear the wratls of Don Quixote, who continued calling to
thñi. When they had reaohedtiie cart again, Bon Quixote said to the
Ariver, " Now, friend, put on yonr moles again, and m Heaven's name
proceed; and, Sancho, give two crowns to hirn and the keeper, to
make them amends for this delay." "That I will, with all mv heut,"
answered Sancho : " but what is become of the imns P are they dead
or alirei" The Keeper then very minately, and with due muses,
nve an account of the conflict, eolaiving, to the best of his skill, on
UB valour of Don Quixote, at sight of whom the daunted lion would
not, or durst not, stir out of the cage, thoui^h he hod held open the
door a good while; and, upon his rei«esentmg lo the knight that it

850 SOX (IVUOTE.

«as tempting God t« jirovoke the lioa, and to forM him mtt, he had

M length, very reluctantly, permitted him to close it again, " What
aayest thoD to this, Sanano r" said Bon Qaixote ¡ "can any enchant»
ment prCTnil against true courage ? Enchanters may, indeed, de^ve
me of good fortune ; but of courage and resolution they nerer can."
Sancho gave the ^Id DTowusj thecarteryoked his males; thekeeper
thanked Don Qillxote for hia present, and promised to relate thk
valorous eiploit to the king himself, when he arrived at ooort. " ii,
perchance, nis majesty," said Don Quixot«, "should iuqidre who
performed it, tel! him the Knight of the Lions: for henoeforward I
resolve that the title I have Idtherto home, of the Knight of the
Sorrowful Figure, shall be thns dianged, converted, and allcTed ; and
herein 1 follow the ancient practice of knightB-enant, who ohanged
their names at pleasure."

The cart now went forward, and Don Qnixote, Sanoho, and Dob
"Dieso de Miranda (which was the name of the traveller in green) pur-
sued theirs. This gentleman had not spoken a word for some tisM^
his atlention haviu^ been totally engrossed hy the ainftnlar conduct
and Inneuage of Don Quixote, whom he accounted a sensible madman
or one whose madnrss w»s mingled witb good sense. He had new
Been the first part of our knight's history, or he would have felt \em
astonishment at what he had witnessed ; but now he knew not «hat
to think, seeing him, m his conversation, so intelligent and s«uibl^
and in his actions so foolish, wild, uid eitravagsnt, " What^
thought be, "couM be more ahaurd than to put a helmet full of cnrA
upon his head, and then believe that enchanters had softened his
skull P Or what could equal hia extravagance in seeking a contest
with lions r "

Don Quixote intermpted these reflections by saying " Doubtles^
signor, you set me down as extravagant and mad ; and no wonder if
such snould be your thoughts, formy actions indicate no less. Never-
tlieless, I would have you know that I am not quite so irrAtional as I
possibly may appear to you. It is a gallant si^ht to see a cavalier in
shining armour, prancing over tlie lists, at some gay tonmament, in
sigiit of the ladjes ; it is a gallant sight when, in the middle of a apa-
cions STjuare, a brave cavalier, befora the eyes of his prince, transfixes,
with his lance, a furious bull: and a gallant show do all those knighta
r otner exercises, entertain, enliven, ana At

make who, in military or other exercises, entertain, enliven, ana do
honour totheirprince's court; but far aboveall these isthekniglit-.erraat
who, through deseils and solitudes, through crossways, through woods,
and over mountains, go<?s in quest of perilous adventures, which he
undertakes and accompli shea, only to obtain a glorious and immortal
fame. It ¡s a nobler sight, I say, to behold a knighterrant in the act
of succouring a widow in some desert, than a courtier-knight corapli-
neni inga damsel in the citv. All knights have their peculiar functions.
Let the courtier serve the ladies, adorn his prince's court with rich live-
ries, entertain the poorer cavabers at his splendid table, order jousta,
manage tournaments, and show himself great, liberal, and niagniücent,
above all, ft good Christian, and thus will he fulfil his duties; hut let
the knight-errant search the remotest comers of the worid j enter the
most intricate labyrinths ; assail, at evei? step, impossibilities ; brave^
in wild uncultivated deserts, the buminig ravs of the aiunmer's sun
and the keen inclemency of the winter's wind and frost ; let not lions
daunt him, not spectres affright, nor dragons terrify him : for to seek,
A.OOgIC

HU POIXIIT DIBCOCBU. 351

to attack, to eonqnet them ftU, is his partioular dn^. Therefore, air
M it hu Tallen to m; lot to be one of the number of knights-errant, I
OBUnot decline nndertaking- whsKTer seems to me to come within my
departmeat : which vaa obviuusl; the case in regw^ to the lions,
slthough, ftt tbe same time, I knew it to be the excess of temeritj.
Weil I snow, that fortitude is a. virtne placed between the two
extremes of cowardice and rashness : hat it is better the valiant
should rise to the extreme of temerity than sink to that of cowardice :
for, as it is easier for the prodiiral timn the miser to became libera ;
SO it is much easier for the rash ihan the cowardlr to became trolf
brave. In enterprises of every kind, believe me, Signor Don Diego,
it is bett» to lose the g^e hj a card too much than one (oo little;
for it sounds better to oe called rash and daring thau timoions ana
cowardly."

" All that Tou have aald and done, Signor Don Qnixote," answered
Don Diego, is lerelkdbjr the Une of ntcht reason; and 1 think if tb«
laws and ordinances of kiufcht-errautry should be W, they might be
foond in your worship's breast, as their proper depository and rejtister.
Bat. as it inows late, let us quicken our pace, and we shall soon reach
mv nabilation, where tou may repose yourself after yonr late toiL
vnich, if not óC the botiy, must have beea a labour of the mind." " I
accept your kind offer with thanks," said the knight ; then, proceed-
ing a liitLe&ster than befm^ they reached, about two o'dock in ths
^moon, th« mansion of Don Diego, whom Don Quixote called the
iaigbt of the Oreen Biding-eoat

.UignieUb, Google

BOOK 11.

CHAPTER lYUL

Don Quixote, on approaching Con Dieiro'a house, observed it to
be s spaciooB mansion, EaTing, after the ooonti? fashiaii, the urns <d
the fiunilj roughly carved in stoae over the great Kates, the buttery
in the court-jard, the cellar nnder the pqroh, and likewise serenu
earthen wine-jars placed aroond it, which, beinfc of the ware of Toboac^
recalled to his memory his enchanted and metamorphosed Soloineti
whereupon, sighing deeply, he broke out into the following exdoma-

" O plecU^ ODoa my oomlbrt and rclief|
Though pJotuDg loU, diaooTorad now with giW I

0 ye Tobosian jars, that bring back to my remembranoe th« sweet
ple<^ of my most bitter sorrow ! " lliis was orerheard 1^ the poeti-
cal scholar, Don Diego's son : be having, with his mother, oome ont
to receive him ; and both mother and son were not a little astonished

Taj,'''!

., _,, bi(£ Don

Quiiote returned in expreaaions of the utmost politeness. The same
kind of coQipliments parsed between him and the stodent, with whom
Don Quiiote was mnch pleased, judging him, by bia ooarerBatbi^ to
be a young man of wit and good sense.

Here the original author gives a particular account of Don Diego's
bouse, describiog all that is nsually contained in the manaion ot a
wealthy country gentleman- but the traiulatorof the history thouf;ht
fit to pass over in silence tnese minute matters, as inconsistent with
the general tenonr of the work, which, while it carefully admits wbat-
ever, is essential to tznth, rejects all uninteresting and snperfluons

Don Qnixote was led into a halL and Sancho having unarmed hrni,
he remained in his wide Walloon breeches, and in a chamois doublet,
stained all over with the mst of his armoor; his band was of the
college cut, uiutarched, and without lace : his buskiui were dat«-

TSB KSIOHT COSVEESES TTITH DON LOKEISZO, 353

coloured, and his shoes waxed. He eirt on his Inistv sword, which
vas hun^ at a belt m^e of a sea-woU's skin, od account of a \Fe.ik-
ticss he was said to have been troubled with in his loins: and over the
whole he wore a cloak of good grey cloth, liut, first oi ail, with fire
or six kettles of water (for there are donhts as to ihe esact nismher)
he washed his head ana face. The water still continned of a wliey-
colonr— thanks to Sancho's yhiftony, and his foul curds, that had so
defiled his master's visasse. Thus accoutred, with a graeefol and gal-
lant air Don Qaisote walked into another hall, where the student was
waiting to eotcrtain him till the table was prepared; for the lady
Donna Christina wished to show her noble guest that she knew how
to resale such ^silon.

father concerning hitn : " fray, sir," said he, " who is this gentleman ?
for n^ mother and I are eomplctely puz/.led both by his strange figure
and the title you give him." " I scarcely know how t« answer you,
son," replied Don Die^o : "and can only say that, from what I have
witnessed, his tongue oelies hia actions ; for he converses like a man
of sense, and acta hke an outrageous madman. Talk you to hitn, and
feel the pulse of his understanding, and exercise all the discernment
you possess, to ascertain the real state of his intellects ; for my own
part I suspect them to be rather in a distracted condition."

Don Lorenzo accordm^ly addressed himself to Don Qoixote; and,
among other things, in the course of their conversation Don Quixote
said to Don Lorenzo, " Signor Don Diego de Miranda, your father,
sir, has informed me of the rate talents vou possess, and particularly,
that yon are a great poet." "Certainly not a great poet," renliea
Lorenzo ; "it is true I am fímd of poetry, and honour the works of
good poets; but have no claim to the title my father ia pleased to
couftr upon me." "I do not dislike this modesty," answered Don
Quixote ; " for poets are usually verj; arrogant, each thinkinft himself
tnc greatest in the world." "There is no rulo without an exception,"
answered Don Lorenzo ; "and snrelj there may be some who do not
appear loo conscious of their real merits." " Very few, I belieye," said
Don Quixote; "butlpray, sir, tell mewhatverses are those you liave
now in hand which your father says en™ss vour thouglits ; for if
they be some gloss or paraphrase, I should be glad to see them, as I
know something of that kind of writing. If tney are intended for a
poetical (irize, I would advise you to endcavoor t« obtain the second.
The first is always determined oy favour, orthe high rank of the can-
didate* but the second is bestowed according to merit: BO that the
fliird becomes the second, and the first no more than the third,
according to the usual practice in our universities. The first, how-
ever, I confess, makes a figtire in the list (rf honours." " Hitherto'*
aaid Don Lorenzo to himself, " I have no reason to judge thee to be
mad ;— but let ua proceed. I presume, air," said he, "you have fre-
quented the 6cho<Ss ¡—what science, pray, baa been your parficolat
study!"' "That of kmght-errantry, answered Don Quixote, "which
is equal to poetry, and even somewhat beyond it." " I am ignorant
lAai science that is," replied Bon Lorenzo, "never having heard of
it before." " It is a science," replied Don Qnixot^ " which compri-
bends ail, or most of the other sciences ; for he who professes it must
be learned in the lair, and understand distñbative and commotative
8* , .K..iMyg\C

304 DOH «OtXOIB.

justice, that he maj l:no7 not <m\f how to assign to each man «hat
IS truly his own, but wliat is proper for him to ptesesa ; he must be
COnTersant in divinit;, in order to be able to eiplaÍH, dearly and dis-
tiiictl}[, the Christiui faith which he professes ; he must be akilled in
medicine, especially in botany, that he may know both how to con
{he diseases with which he may be afSicted, and colleot ths varioui
remedies which Providence has scattered in the midst of the wilder<-
ness, nor be compelled on every emergency to he running in quest of
a physician to heal him ; he must be an astrontaner, that he may it
necessary asoertain by the stars the exact hour of the night, and what
part or climate of toe world he is in; he must uuderetaiid mathe-
matics, because he will have ocr^inn for themj and, taking it Sw
granted that he must be adorned with all tlie cardinal and th^lngiixJ
virtues, I descend to other more minute particulars, and sa^ that he
must know how to swim as well as it is reported of Fish ^Nicholas;*
he must know ¡low to shoe a horse and repair his saddle and bridle;
and to return to higher concerns, he must preserve his faith inviaUbla
towu-ds Heaven, and also to his mistress ; he must be chaste in
his thoughts, modest in his words, liberal ia good works, valiant in
exploits, patient in toils, charitable to the needy, and steadfastly
adhering to the truth, even at the hazard of his me. Of all these
^cal and small parts, a good knight-errant is composed. Ckinsidei,
then, Signer Don Lorenzo, whetlier the student of knight-errantry
hath an easy task to accomplish, and whether such a science may not
rank with the noblest that are taught in the schools," "II your
description be just, I maintain that it issui>erior toall others," replied
l>on Lorenzo, "How! if it be ¡ust?" cried Don Quitóte. "What
I mean, sir," said Don Lorenzo, is, that I question whether knights-
errant do, or ever did, exist ; and esiiecially adorned with so many
■virtues." "How many are therein the world," en claimed the knígh^
"who entertain such doubts; and I verily believe that, unless Heaven
would vouchsafe, by some miracle, to convince them, evct? exertion
of mine to that end would be fruitless ! I shall not, therefore, waste
time in useless endeavours, but will pray Heaven to enlighten you,
and lead you to know how nseiiil and necessary knight-errantry was
in times past, and how beneficial it would be now were it restored —

i'es, DOW, in these einful limes, when sloth, idleness, gluttony, and
oxury triumph." " Our guest iias broke loose^" quotli Don Lorenzo
to himself; ' still it must he acknowledged he is a most extraordinary
madman."

Their conversation was now interrupted, as they were summoned
to the diuing-hail ; but Bon Diego took an opportunity of asking his
son what opmion he had formed of bis guest. " His madness, tu, is
beyond the reach of all the doctors in the world," repliál Don
Lorenzo ; " yet it is full of lucid interv^." They now sat down to
the repast, which was such as Don Diego had said he usually gave to
his visitors : neat, plentiful, and savoury. Don Quiiot« was, more-
over, particulariy pleased with the maivelloua silraoe that prevailed

* A Kdlian, tuttlva of Cúrtanla, who iirsd in tha Uttar part of tba
■Ixteentji century. He was mmmonly oallod PMce-aoIa, or tlie Fiih-
Nkholaa, uid Is wid to hate lived to much in the water, ftóm Us inboey,
that be could cleave tha waves in the midjit of a wuán like a maiin*

í FBO»UHII cBtncuit. SGS

1 if it had been a conTent of Gar-

The cloth beins taken away, mce said, asd their hands crashed,
Don Quixote earnestly cntreatM Don Lorenzo to repeat the Tecsea
which he intended for the prize. " Iwill do is yon desire," replied
hCj "that I may not Beem like those poets wlio, when entreated,
refuse to prodnce their Terses ; hut, if unasked, often enforce them
apon unwilling hearers: mine, however, were not writttn with any
view to obtaiu a priie, but simply as an eieroise." " It is the opinioa
of an mj;e III ous friend of mine," said Uon Qaiiote, "that these kinds
of composition are not worih the troable they reiinire ; because th»
paraphraso can never equal the text; they seldom exactly a^ee in
aense, and often deviate widely. He saya that the rules for this spa-
des of poetry are much too strict : aonering no interrogations, nor
audi expreasions as ' said he,' ' I shall say,' and the like ; nor chang-
ilW verijs into nouns, nor altering the sense; with other restrictions
which, you well know, confine the writer. " Tmly, Signor Don
Qiiiiot«," 9Üd Don Lorenzo, " 1 would fain catch your worsbip
^pping in some false Latín, but I cannot: for you slide throng;a
my nniers like an eel." " I do not comprehend your meaning," aaid
Don Quixote. " 1 will «plain myself another time," replied Don
Jjottav), " and will now recite the text and its oomment."

THB TEXT,
Could I recall dsparted joy.

Though barr'd the bopea of greater gaiii.
Or now the future houn employ

That must Buecsed my preeent pain.

THE PAKAFHRASB.
All fertune'i Uesdag* dnaiqwar,

Bhe'a flokla b.i the wind ;
And now 1 find her u »iere

As once 1 thought her Itiiid.
How suun the fleetíncf pleuure* pan^d I
How long the liQgenng narrowa last t

UnoonstaQt guddesa in thy hsste.
Do not thy prostrate »1aTe dcstniy ;

'" - Ver oomplain, bat bisu my bte,

Could 1 Ttcall dipartedjoi.

With thought oF pleaBUre once powci'iL
I'm DOW « cunt u t WW blev'd :

Oh would the chonolng houn ntam^
How pleaa'd I'd live, bow int from pam I

I ne'er would irfne, I ne'er would mourn,
3^io«^A barr'd lit Aepa (^ grmttr gaia.

: oh, tbe blenfaig I bnpkna

Iflt&teitHdfouiBira!

ee time di^d eiuta no mora^

lo powar oaa bid it lira»

a A 8 ,- Í

n,, .,.,l,C:.OOglC

DON QUIXOTJ.

Our daji soon TanEih into oongfit.
And havs no boing biit id thau<;ht.

Wbate'er began must end at last.
In Tiun we twice would yontb enjoy.

In vain vould we recaitl the post,
Or ■*« Un/ature Aourt employ.

Since dwith so soon can tuuw,
Thia hour I'll dio— but, Icit loc pause—
A rising doubt my c»urag;o awes.

Assist, ye powen that rule my fate,
Aliinu my thoughts, my rago nslrain.

Convince my laul there's yet a state
Tiai niut nutted ny praent pain.

As BOOD as DonLoreiiEO had recited lusTeTses,I>onQiijiote started

up, and, grasiuug him bv tbe hand, exclaimed in a loud Toioe, " By
HeaFcn ! nowe youlh, fLere is not a better poet in the universe, aoa
you deserve to near the lanrel, not of Cvprus, nor of Gaúla, as a
certain poet said, Trhom, Heaven forgive^ bat of tlie universities of
Athena, did they noT exist, and those of Paris, Bdlogna, and ^la-
manca! If the judges deprive yon of the first priae, may they be
transliicd by the arroivs of Apollo, and ma^ the Muses never cross
tlie threshold of their doors! Be ¡ueased, sir, t« repeat some other
of yonr more lofty verses ; for I would fam have a turther taste of
your admirable genius."

Hov diverting that the joxaig poet should be gratified by the
praises of one whom he believed to be a madman ! 0 flattery, how
potent is tliy sway ! how wide are the bounds of thj pleasing jnris-
Üictton ! Tbb was verified in Boo. Lorenzo, who, yielding to the
request of Don Quixote, repeated the following sonnet on the aUny of
Pyramua and Thabe ;—

SONNET.
The oymph who Pyismos with lors inspired
Heroes the wall, With equal ^«iiiiion fir'd :
Cupid from distant Cypnu thither flica.
And views the werM breaoh with laughing eyos.

Here sDenee, vocal, mutoal rows conveys.
And, whiap'ritiff eloquent, their love betrays ;
Though clülii'd by tear, their roiow dare not pass,
Ttacdr seals, tnuismitted tluvngb tbe obink, embrace.

Ah woafiil story of disaatrons love I
Ill-fated haste tJiat did their rain prove I
One death, one grave, niiils tha ^tkñil pair.
And in one DammoD fama tluir mem'fiea shan.

"^107 Heaven be thanked," exclumed Don Quizóte, "that; amone
the infinite number of rhymers now in being, I nave at last met witE
one who is truly a poet, which you, ait, have proved yourself by the
composition of that sonnet."

Foin: dnya was Don Quixote nohlf regaled in Don Diego's bouse;

A.OOgIC

THB miOHT'fl SiGE ADYICE. 857

at the end of which he heajed leave to depart, espreasmg hia thanis
for the generous hospitality he had experienced; but 03 inactivit/
And repose, he said, were UQUeeonúo); knight s-eir^t, the duties of Ins
function required him to proceed in quest of adventures, which ha
was Uña might be expected in abundance in those parts, and sufG-
cient to occupy him until tlie time fiied for the tournament of Sara-
posaa, where it was liis intention to be present. Preriouslj-, however,
ne meant to visit the cave of Jlonteainos, concerning which so many
eitraordinarv things were reported, and at the same lime to discover,
if possibly tne true source of the seven lakes, commonly called tho
lakes of Rnydera. Don Diego and hia son applauded his honourable
resolution, desiring him to furnish himself with whatever their house
afforded for his accommodation ; since his personal merit and noble
profession instly claimed their services.

At length the day of hia departure came — a day of joy to Don
Quixote, Dut of lorrow to Sanclio Panz^who was too sensiole of the
WHnfbrts and abundance that reigned in Don Die^ro'a house not to feel
great unwillingness to return to the hunger of foresta and wilder-
neasea, and to the misery of ill-provided wallets. However, these he
filled and stuffed with what he thotigiht most necessary; and Don
Qnixote, on fakinff leave of Don Lorenzo^ wiii "I know not whether
1 have mentioned it to you before, but tf I have, I repeat it, that
whaiever you may feel disposed to shorten your way np Ihe rugged
ste^ that leads to the temple of fame, tou have only to turn aside
from the narrow path of poetry, and follow the still narrower one úl
knight-errantry, which may, nererthdess, raise yon in a trice to
imjierial dignity," With theae eipresaions Don Ou! jote completed,
as it were, the evidence of hia madness, especially when he added,
" Heaven knows how willingly 1 wonld take Signor Don Lorenio
with me to teach him how to spare the lowly wid trample the oppres-
sor under foot— virtues inseparable from my profession; bnt since
four laodaUe eiereises, as well as yoar jouth, render that impossible,
shall conteht myself with admonishing jon, in order to become

— ' ' ' '- "-- —'^-' >-- -"- ' — therthan

children,

of tbe mind." The father Mid son agam wondered at the dk

of extravagance and good aense which they observed in Don Qni) ,

and the unfortunate obatinacy with which he persevered in the dis-
astrous pnraoit that seem^ to occupy hia whole souL After
repeating complimenta and offers of service, and taking formal
leave of the Udy of the mansion, the knight and the squire — the one
moulted upon Soiinante, the othef upon D^ple — quitted their
friends and depaitod.

U.Bn:e.t.,G00^lc

CHAÍTER XIX.

Dou Quixote lad not Invellcd far, when he orertook two persona
bice ecdesiaatics or Bcholara, accompaiiied by two eomrtry fellows, tA
oí whom were rDoniited upon asses. One of the scholars carried
behind him a small bundle of linen and two pair of thread stocking^
wrapped up in green buckram likeaportmantean; the other appearca
to have nothing but apair of new black fcncingfoils, with their points
gnwrded. The countrymen carried other things, which showed that thef
hod been mating purchases in some large town, and were returning
with them to their own village. But the scholats and the countr/men
were astonished, as all others had been, on first seeing Don Qitixot^
and were carious to know what man tfiis was so difierent in appear-
ance from other men. Don. Quixote saluted them, and hearing they
were travelling the same road, he offered to bear them companj,
b^ging them to slaoien their pace, as their asses went faster than his
horse ; and, to obhge them, he orieflj told tbem who he was, and that
his empbyment and profession was that of a Imtght-errant, aeekins
adventures over the world. Ha told them his proper name was
Don Qoixote de la Manehs, and his appellative " tbe knight of the
lions.'''

All this to the cormtrymen was Greek or gibberish ; but not so to
the scholars, who soon discovered the soft part of Don Quixote's
skull; they nevertheless viewed him with respectful attention, and
one of them said, " If, sir knight, you are not fixed to one particular
road, as those in search of adventures seldom are, come with ds, and
Ton will see one of the greatest and richest weddings that has ever
Deen celebrated in La Mancha, or for many leagues ronnd." "Th«
nuptials of some prince. I presume?" said Don Quixote. "No,'*
replied the scholar^ "only that of a farmer and a coimti? maid : he
the wealthiest in this part of the country, and she the most beantifnl
that eyes ever beheld. The preparations are very nncommon : for
the wedding is to be celebiaied m a meadow near the village where
the bride lives, who is called Qoitena the Fair, and tbe bndegroom
Camacbo the Kich ; she is about the age of eignteen, and he twenty-
two, both equally matched ; though some nice folks, who have all the
pedigrees in the world in their heads, pretend tnat tbe family irf
(Juiteria the Fair has the advantage over that of Camacho ; hat that
is now little regarded, for riches arc able to solder up abundance of
flaws. In short, this same Camacho is as liberal as a prince; and^
intending to he at some cost in this wedding, has taken it into bit>
head to convert a whole meadow into a kind of arbour, shadmg it so
that tbe son itself will find some difficulty to visit the green grass
beneath. He will also have morris-dances, both with swords and
bells ¡ for then we people in the village who jingle and dattet then
,, .A.OOgIC

THE ENAHÚCRID SHEPHEBS. 8S9

with p-cat dextCTÍty. As to the nwnbfir of ahoe-clappers" inrited,
it is impossible to count them; but what will gire the greatest
interest to this wedding is the effect it is expeeted to h&ve on the
slifchted Baailius.

"This Basiljns isaswainof the same vill^OsOuiteriti; hiahouse
is next to that of her parents, and separated only by a wall, whence
Cnpid took occasion to rerive the ancient loves of Pyramus and
Tbisbe; for Basilius was in love with Quiteña from bis childiiood,
and she returned his affection with a tbousand modest favours, inso-
mucli that the Inves of the two children Basilius and Qititeria became
the common talk of the yillage. When they were grown np, the
father of Quiteña resolved to forbid Basilius the usual access to his
Éimily ; and to relieve himself of nil fears on his account, he deter-
minea to marrr his dangbter to the rich Camacho ; not choosing to
bestow her on Basilius, whose endowments are less the gifts of for-
tune than of nature : in truth, he is the most active youüi we know:
ft threat pitcher of the bar, an eicetleiit wrestler, a great player at
cricket, runs like a buck, leaps like a wild goat, and playa at ninepins
as if by witchcraft ; sings like a lark, and touches a guitar dchght-
fully ; and, above all, he bajidlp-s a sword like the moat skilful fencer."
"For this acoompUahment alone," said Don Quiiote, " the youth
deserves to marry not oiJy the fair Quiteria, but queen Genebra her-
self, were she now alive, in spite of Sir Launcelot and all opposers."
*■ To my wife with that, quoth Sancho, who had hitherto been sQent
and listening-, "for me will have everybody' manr their equal,
according to the proverb, 'Every sheep to its hke.' I shall take the
part, loo, of honest Baailius, and would have him marry the lady
y oiteria ; and Heaven send them sood luck, and a blesaing " — mean-
ing: the contrary — "light on all tbat would keep true tovers asunder."
"If Jove only were to be considered," said DonQuiiote, "parents
would no longer have the privilege of judiciously matching their
obfldren. Were daughters left tc choose for themselves, there are
those who would prefer their father's serving-man, or throw them-
selves away on some fellow they might chance to aee in tbe street :
aiisfaking, pcrliaps, au impostor and swaggering poltroon for a gen-
tleman : since passion too easily blinds the understanding, so indis-
pensably necessary in deciding on tbat must important point, matri-
mony, whieh is pecnltarly exposed to the danger of a mistaki;, and
therefore needs all the caution that human prudence can supply,
Steed by the particHiar favour of Heaven. A person who proposes to
take a long journey, if he is prudeot, before he sets forward will look
out for some safe and agreeable companion ; and should not he who
undertakes a journey for life use the same precaution, especially as
kis fi^w-tnveller is to be his companion at bed and Doard, and in
all other situations Í The wife is not a commoditj; which, when once
Ixiugbt, yon can exchange or return; the marriage bargain, once
stmck, is irrevocable. It is a noose which, (uice thrown about the
ned:, turns to a Gordian knot, and cannot be unloosed till out asunder
by the aeythe of death. I oottld sav muoh upon thia subject, were I
not prevented by my curiosity to. hear something more from signor
hceatiite, cooceñiing the Ustory of Basilius." To which the bache-

. * "ZapafeadoreK." DaoHn thatftrikathewlMof thnrtboeawithtb*
A.OOgIC

8G0 SON qmsoTS,

lor — or licentiate, as Don. Qniiote csUed hím— «ntwered, " I bare

nothing to add hut that from the moment Baailiiis hewd of the
intended morriage of Quiterii to Caiiiacho the Rich, he has never been
seen to smile, nor speak coherently: he is always pensive and sad,
and talking to himself— a certain ana clear proof that he is distracted.
He eats nolhin!; but a little fruit ; and if be sleeps, it is in the üchls,
like cattle upon the hard earth. SometiiDes he casta his eyes up to
heaven; and then fixes them on the ground, remainiop motionlesa
like a statue. In short, he gives such indications of a love-stricken
heart, tl)at we all expect that Qulteria's fatal ' Yes ' will be the sen-
tence of his death."

" Heaven will order it better," said Sancho : " for God, who gives
the wound, sends the cure. Nobody knows what is to come. A great
numy hours come in between thb and to-morrow ¡ and in one dout,
yea, in one minute, down falls the house. 1 have seen rain and sun-
shine at the same moment ; a man may go to bed well at ni^Lt, and
not be able to stir next morning ; and tell me who con boast oi having
driven a nail in fortune's wheel? Between the Yes and the So of a
woman I would not undertake to thrust the point of a pin. Grant
me only that Quiteria loves BasilJua with alT her he^t, and I will
promise him a bag-full of. good-fortune; for Love, as I have heard
say, wears spectacles, through which copper looks like gold, rags like
ricli apparel, and specks in the eye hke pearls." "A curse on ihee,
Sancho," said Don Quixote; "what would'st thou be atF When
once thy stringing of proverbs begins, Judas alooe — I wish he had
thee!— can have patience to the end. Tell me, animal! whatknowert
thou of nails and wheels, or oí anything elseP" "0, if I am not
itnderstood," replied Sancho, " no wonder that what I sav passes foi
nonsense.^ But no matter for that—I underatand myself: neither
have X said many fooLsh things, only your worship is such a cricket."
"Critic— not cncket, fooll— thou corrupter of good language," said
the knight. "Fray, sir, do not be so sharp upon me," answered
Sancho, "fori was not bred at court, nor studied, in Salamanca, to
know whether my words have a letter short, or one too many. As
Heaven shall save me, it is unreasonable to expect that b^garly
Savagues* should talk like Tbledans — nay, even some of them are
not over nicely spoken." " You are in the right, friend," quoth the
Kcentiate, " for how should they who live among the tanyards, or
stroll about the market oí 2^codover^ speak so weU as those who ore
all day walking up and down the cloisters of the great church P 1^^
they are all Toleiuns, Furitv, propriety, and eleguioe of style, will
always be found among polite, well-bred, and sensible men, tluiugh
bom in M^alahonda :— sensible, I say, because, though habit and
example do much, good sense is the ioimdation of good laoguage. I,
gentlemen, for m; sins, have studied the oanon law in Silüiui»,
and pique myself a little upon expresmg myself in clear, phiin, and
sigmficant terms." " If you had not piqued yourself still more upon
manazing those foils," said the other scholar, " you might by this
time have been at the head of your chtsa, where» bov yo« «re at its

* Tbs people about Zamora, the poorest in ^aln.

Coi

BA.T. 861

taken." " I do not odIt fane; so," replied Coreliaelo, " but, «hat ia
more, I am convinced of it, and, if ;cni please, wiU couvince yon also
by experience ; try jour foils against my nerves and bodily strength,
and you will soon confess that 1 am in the right. Alight, and make
use of your measnred steps, your circles, and angles, and science, yet
I hope to make yon see tlie stars at noonday witn my artless and
vulgar dexterity: for I trust, under Hearen, that the man is \tt
imbom who shall make me turn my back, or bo able to stand his
monod asainst me." "As to turning your back, or not, I say no-
ttiing," replied the adept, " though it may happen that, in the first
spot you fii your foot on, your grave may be opened, were it only for

or contempt of skill." "We shall see that presently," answered
_ jrchuelo ¡ and, hastily alighting, he snatched one of the foils, which
the licentiate carried upon bis ass. "Hold, gentlemen," cried Don
Quixote at this moment, "my interposition may be necessary here;
let me be judge of the field, and see that this loog-controveited ques*
tion ¡s decided fairly."

Then, diamounting from Kozinante, and grasping liis lance, he
pUnted himself in the midst of the road, just as the licentiate had

S laced himself in a graceful position to receive Lis antagonist, who
ew at him like a fury ; cut and thrust, back-strokes, and fore-strokes,
single and double: laying it on thicker than hail, and with all the
tage of a provoked lion. Sut the licentiate not only warded oS the
tempest, bnt checked its fury by making his adversarykiss the button
of bis fod, tboo^ not with quite so much devotion as if it had been a
felic. In short, the licentiate, bv dint of clean thrust, counted him
all the buttons of a bttle cassock he bad on, and tore the skirts so
that thev hung in raigs like the tails of the polypus. Twice he struck
oft hia bat, üd so worried and wearied him ihat, through sp¡t«,
cholee, and rag^ he flung away the foil into the air with such force
that one of the country -fellows present, who happened to be a notary,
and went himself to fetch it, made oath that it was thrown near three
miarters of a league ; which ieslimony has served, and still serves, to
snow and demonstrate that strength is overcome by art. Coicbuelo
sat down quite spent, and Sancho going np to him said, " Take my
advice, master bachelor, and henceforwoid let your challeoges be onlv
to irrrátle or pitch the bar i bnt as to fencing, meddle no mure witn
it: for I have beard it said of your fencers ttút tbev can thrust yon
the point of a sword through the eve of a needle." I am satisfied,"
Mjawered Corchaolo. " and have learned, by experience, a truth I
ooiold not otherwise have bebeved." He then got up. embraced the
licentiate, and they were better friends than ever. Being unwilling
to wait for the scnvener who was gone to fetch the toil, they deter-
xuned to go forward, that they might reach betimes tne village of
QnitCTa, whither tbev were all bound. On their way, the bcentiate
(Kplained to them too merits of the fencing art, which he so well
ddended by reason and by mathematical demonsttatton, that ^ were
convinced of the 'usefulness of the science, and Corchoeb wai com-
ipletely cored of his iDcredulitr.

It now began to grow dark, and as they approached the village,
there appeared beftm them a new heaven, blazing with innumerable
stars- At the same time they heard the sweet and mingled sounds
of various instruments —such as flutes, tambonrines, psalters, cym-
bal^ drums, and bellsj and, drawing stUl nearer, they perceived &
,, .A.OOgIC

MS wni qurxoTE.

Bpacknis nrbour, fonned near the entnnce into tie tovn, hiui;; nnnd
■with lif his. that shone uiidÍBtnrbed bv the breeze; for it was sn(»lm,
that not a ieaf WBS seen tfl move. The mnsiciaus, who arc thplife
and }□; of such festiiaJs, pariuled in bande up and down this delight-
ful place, Bome dancing, others sinking, and otiicrs plapng upon dif-
ferent instruments ; in sliort, nothing was there to be seen but mirth
and pleasure. Sereral were employed in raising scaffolds, from which
they miifht oommodiously behold the shows and entertainments of
, the following day, that were to be dedicated to the nuptial ceremonj
of the rich Camocho, and the obseiuies of poor Basilins. Don
Qniiote refused to enter Ihe town, though pressed b^ the eonntry-
men and the bachelor; pleading, what appeared to h:m a sufficient
eicuse, the practice of knishts-eirant to sleep in fields and forest»
nther than in towns, though imdcr gilded roow : he therefore turnea
ti little out of the road, much against Sancho's will, who had not yrt
fortcotten the good lodging he hiad met with in the hospitable mansion
(¿Don Diego.

CHAPTEE XX.

ScABCELT had the beautiftil Aurora appeared, and eivBn bright
^Hebus time, by the warmth of his eaily ravs, to exhale the liquid
pearls that hung glittering on his golden hair, when Don Qutint^,
ab^ing off sloth from his drowsy members, rose np, and proceeded to
call his squire Sancbo Penza-, hut, finding him still snoring, hepausnl
and said, " O happy thou above all that Eve on the face of the earth,
who, neither envying nor envied, canst talo thy needful rert with
tranqnillity of soul ; neither persecuted by enchanters, nor affrighted
by their machinations I Sleep on— -a hundred times I sav, sleep on!
No jÑdoasíes on thy lady's account keep thee in perpetual watcning<i,
nor do aaiiou thougiita of debta unpaid awake thee ; nor oat« hnir
on Ú6 nomnr thou and thy little straitened family slóU be provided
fat. Ambition disqaiets tiiee not, nor does the vain pomp of the
wotUdiatarb thee: forthydiief concern is the care of tny ass ; since
to ne is oommitted the comfort and protection of thine own person :
a biñthen imposed on the master by nature and custom. The servant
sleeps, and the master lies awake, considering how he is to nmintain,
assist, and do him kindness. The paiiiof seeing the heavens obdurate
in withholding the moisture neoessary to refresh the earth, touches
only the master, who is bound to provide in times of st^ñilitr and
fiuune, for tiiose who served him in the season of fertility and
abnnduioe."

To all this Saneho answered not a word for he was asleep ; not
would he have soon awaked had not Don Quixote jogged him with
tfae butt-end of bis lance. At last he awoke, drowsy and yawning ;
std after turning his face on all sides, he said, " From yonder bower,
if I mistake Dot, diera oomea a Bt«em and smell that seroors more fli

,, .A.OOgIC

BJLKCBO nOLU OOOD CHBBS. Stt

liroiled nthoa thui of herbs Mid nubei t—hf rav hith, ft weadinR

that amells so veil in the beginning must needs t» a aainly one!
"Peace, glattop," quoth Di» Quixote, "had let us ro and see tbi»
maiTÚge, sod what beoowea of the disdained Basilius." " Utag
him," quoth Suicho. " it matters not what becoaies of him : if he is
poor he cannot thint to wed Qaiteris. A pleasaat iancy, forBOotl^
lor a fellow «ho has not a groat in his pocket to look for s yoke-ioate
ftbore the donde. Faith, sir, in ay opinion * pool man should be
couteuled with what he finds, and not be seekiuc for truffles at the
boUom of the sea. I dare wager an ann that Camaoho can cover
Baailius with retds from brad to foot : and if so. Quiteña would be a
pretty jade, truly, to lca?e Ibe fine oiothes and jewels that Camacho
osB give her for the bar-pitching and fencioft of Jjssiliua ! Th«
bravest pitch of the bar or cleverest push of the foil will not fetch w«
a pint as wine from the vintner's ; such talents and graces are not
marketable wares— let Count Dirloe have them tor me ; but should
they light on a man that has wherewithal— may cij life show as well
as Uey do when so coupled ! Upon a good fonndation a good build-
ing may be raised ; and the best oottom and foundation in the world
is money." " For the love of Heaven. Sancho," quoth Don Quiiote,
"pnt an end to tby harangue. I veriij believe, wert thou suffered to
go on, thy prating would leave thee no tiaie either to eat or sleep."
Be pleased to remember, sir," said Sancho, "the articles of our
agreement before we sallied from home this iaat time ; one of which
WW Uiat yoQ were to let me talk as mnoh as I pleased, so it were not
anything against m; neighbour, nor against your worship's autboritv •
and, to my thinking, I have made no breach yet in the bargain," I
do K* remember any such article, Saocbo," answered Don Quixote ;
" and, though it were so, it is my pleasnre, that thou ahouldst nov
bold thy peace, and come aloni;; tor already the musical inatroments
which we hcúd htst night benn again to cheer the valleys, and,
doubtless, the espousals will De celebrated in the oool of tbo

tunmiTw"

Sanc£o obeyed his mastra's ctnmnandB ; and saddling and pannelüng
their steeds, ihej both mounted, and at a slow pace entered the arti-
ficial ihade. The first thiiw that presented itself to Sutcho's áght^
was a whole hnllock, spitted npon a large elm. The Gre by whicu it
was roasted was ootnposed of a mooutain of wood, and round it were
placed six hoge pot»— not east in oommon moolds, but each large
Mongh U> contain a whob shamble of flesh. Entire sheepwere awal-
lowed up in them, and floated like so Ruuy pigeons. The hvea ready
Bamd, and the fowls plaeked, that hong abbat the branefae^ in «der
to M buried in these canldrtma, were without number. Infinite was
lihe wildfowl and Tenisoii haaging about tbe tree* to reoeive the eool
air. Sancho oonnted above Ihree-soore skiae, each hrJding above
iwm^-fonr quarts, and all, as appeared afterwards, full of geoeious
vinea. Hillous, too, he saw, oi tDewhileat bread, NOifted like heaps
of wheat on tbe threáhing-floor. aivi dtoesea, [^lea u> m the manner
of bricks, formed a kind of wall. Two cauldnms otoil, larger than
dyer's vats, stood ready for fryBw all scrts of batter-ware ; and with
a oonple of stout peels, they shovelled them up, whan fried, and
fortíkwith inunersed them in a kettle of prepaiied honey that stood
sear. The men and women oooks were about fifty in nnmbw, all-
dew, all aotÍT^ and all in good bnmoar. In the bullock's distoied
,, .A.OOglC

VH tM» qvntotx.

bellr were iewed vp & dosen suckb^-piss, to make it SBTomy and

tender. The spices of various kinds, vhicli seemed to hara been
bought, not by t^ic pound, but b; the hundred-veight, were depo«tted
eat chest, and opeo to everf hand. In shott, the preparation

3 ali n '" ' ' ' "■ • ' ' ..... —

wedding waa sU nutic, but ia sufficient abundance to ham

£east«l an aimF.

Sancbo beheld all with wonder and delight. The first tbat capti-
vated and subdued liia inclinations were the ñesb-pota, oat of which
be would have been glad to have filled a moderate pipkin ; next the
wine-skins drew hia imections ; and, lastly, the productsof thefrTrns-
pana— if such capacious vessels misnt be so called ; and, being unable
any longer to abstain, he ventured to approach one of the busy cooks,
and, in persuasive and buugr; terms, b<^ired leave to sop a Hmcheoa
of bread in one of the pots. To which the cook answered, " This,
friend, is not a day for hunger to be abroad— thanks to rick Gamadio.
Alight, and look about you for a ladle to skim out a fowl or two, and
mucli Rood may they do you." " I see no ladle," answered Sancho.
" Stay," quoth the cook i " Heaven save me, what a helpless varlet ! "
So saving, he laid bold of a kctlle, and, sowsing it into one of tbe half
jars, he (¡shed out three pullets, and a couple of geese, and said to
Sancho "Eat, friend, and make a breakfast of thisscum, to stay your
stomncn till dinner-time." " I have nothiug to pnt it in," answered
Sancbo. " Then take ladle and all," quoth tlie cook ; " for Camacho's
riches and joy supply everything."

While Sancho was thus empbyed, Don Quixote stood observing tbe
entrance of a dozen peasants at one aide of the spacious arbour, eadi
mounted upon a beautiful nuce, in rich and ^y caparisons, hung
TOQud with little bells. They were clad in holiday apparel, and, in a
regular troop, made sundry careers abont the meadow, witn a joyful
Moorish cry of " Long live Comacho and Quiteria ! he as rich as she
isfair, aud she tlic fairest of the worid !" Don Quixote hearing this,
said to himself, " These people, it is plain, have never seen my Dul-
cinea del Toboso ; olherwiue they would nave been less extravagant
inthepraiseof their Quiteria." Soon after thereentered, on different
sides of the arbour, various sets of dancers, among which was one
consisting of four-and-twentv sword-dancers : handsome, sprightly
swains, all arrayed in fine white linen, and handkerchiefs wrought
with several colours of fine silt. One of those mounted on horseback
inquired of a young man who led the sword-dance, wjjetlier any of his
comrades were hurt. "No," replied tbe jonth; "thank Heaven as
yet we are all well ;" and instantly he twmed himself in amonghis
companions with so many turns, and so deiteroualy. that though Don
Quiiote had often seen snch dances before, none baa ever pleased him
■o well. Another dance, abo, delighted him mnch, performed by
twelve damsels, young and beautiful, all chid in green stuff of Cuenza,
baring their hair partly plaited and partly ñowing, all of golden hue,
rivallmg the sun itsdf, and oovered with garlands <rf jessamine, roses,
and woodbine. They wwe led up by a venerable old nun and wa
ancient matrcm, to whom the occasion had given more agili^ then

might have been expected from their years. A Zamora bagpipe r^a-
latJed their motions, which, bebg no less sprightly and gtaceiul than
thorbokfl were modeatanii maidenly, more lovely dancers were never

_ . . . Ji the world.

. A pantomimic dance sow neoeeded, b; ei^ nyrapha^ difided into-

VHFTUL PBBLlimílMES. MS

two Tanks — "Capid" leading the one, and "Interest" the other; the
fonucr equipped with winis, bow, qniTer, and arrows ■. the lntter gor-
geouslj apparelled with rich and TariouMy coloured silKSjCmbroidered
with gold. The njrmphs in Cupid's band displaced tlicir names, writ-
ten in hrge letters, on their backs. "Poetrjr' was the first; then
succeeded "Discretion," "Good Lmeai^e," and "Valonr." The
ftdlowera of "interest" were "Liberality." "Bounty," "Wealth,"
and " Seonrity." Tliia band was preceded by a wooden castle, drawn
by savages, clad so naturally in ivy, and green cloth coarse and shi^trj,
that Sanelio whs startled. On the front and sides of the edifice
waa written, " The Castle of Reserve." Four sicilful mnsieians played
on the tabor and pipe ; Cupid began the danoe, and, after two move-
meats, be raised his eyes, and, bending his bow, twinted an arrow
towards a damsel that stood on the battlements of tno castle j at the
same time addiessing; to her the following vanes : —

I am tlie sod vbose power extendi

Tbrough tbe wide ocean, earth, and aky ;

To my solt sway all nature bends.
Compelled by beauty to comply.

Penrle'a I rale, in eaim and atonn,
lailulge my plcnsure to the fiill;

Things doamea imp^saible perform.
Bestow, resume, onlain, umul.

Cnpid, haying Bnished hb address, shot an arrov over the castle,
and retired^ to his station ; upon which Interest stepped forth, anil
after two dmtlar movements, the music ceasing, he said —

DowoT eiooodi
jr Cupid bowa
Of all things framed by heaien aboce,

The mott respected, nHighl, aod known.
llr name b Interest ; mine aid

But fe«r obtain, though all desire :
Yet ihall thy virtue, baiuteoua m^d,
itj coiutAiit eervioea anquire.

Interest then withdrew, and Pocti; advanced ; and, iizing hei eyes
ontbedamaelof thecistle, she said —

Let Poetry, wboee ittaln divine

TtM woDd'roni power of song diaplayi^
Sia heart to tJiee, Eur nymph, etwngn,

Tnuiaported in melodious Isya :
If h^ly thou wilt not relbae

To grant my nippllcatad boon.
Thy none shaft, waned by the mnas,

Surmount the circle of the moon.

1^ name ia Liberality,
Alifae beiKfiwnt and iriae»

To shun wild prodigality,
And fordid tkrarioe «kqáae^

U.rireM.,G001^lc

Y«t, fbr tbj brour laiiih gniwii,

A prodigal 1 metal to proTe —
An hoDOurabls vic^ I oirn.

But giving ii the t«eC ol love.

In this manner each peraonoge of the two parties adranced and

retT«at«d, performing a morement aud reciting verses, some elegant
and sCHoe ridiculous ; of wbich Don Quixote, though he had a tot
good meDianr, onl; treasured up the foiegoing. Afterwaids tiw
STOvps mingled together in a lively and gracefuT dance; and whea
Cupid passed befoie the castle, he shot his arrows alofh but Interest
flung gilded balls aeaiust it. After having danced for aome tim^
Interest drew out a large purse of Bomao oatskin which seesked t»
be full of money, aad tiiiowing it at the castle, it separated and feU to

{ieces, leatii^ tlie damsel ciposed aud without defence. Whoeupon
aterest with his followers casting a laige golden chain about ner
neck, seemed to take her prisoner and lead her awav o^tive, while
Love and his partv endeavoured to rescue hex: all thoit motions
during this contest, being regulated by the musical acaompaniments.
The contending parties were at length separated hj the savages, who
with great deiterity repaired the shattered castle, wherein the damsel
was again enclosed as before ; and thus the piece ended, to the great
satis&ctLou of the spectators.

Don Quilate asked one of the nymphs. Who bad composed and
arranged the show 7 She told him that it was a i^rgyman of that
village, who had a notable headpiece for such kind of iuTentious. " I
would venture a wager^" said Don Quixote, "that tbis bachelor, or
de^rman, is more a &iend to Camacbo th»i to Baailius, and nnder-
■tanos satuv better than vespers j for in his dance he has ingenioiiBlr
^posed the talmts of Basilius to the riches of Camaoho." " I hold
vith Camaoho," quoth Sancho, who stood Ustening, " the king is mj
cock." "It is plain," said Dod Quixote, "that thou art an amot
bnn^ün, and one of those whoalwayscry, lona live the conqueror !"
"I know not who I am one of," answered oandio; "but this I know,
I shall never get such elegant acmn from BasiUus's pots as I have
done from Camacho's," And showing his kettle-full of geese aud
hens, he laid hold of ooe and began to eat with uotable eoou-will and
appetite ; " A fie for tbe talents of fiasilius ! " said he, for so much
thou art worth as thou hast, and so much thou hast as thoo art worth.
There are hut two Imeages in the world, as mf grandmother used to
say : ' the Have's and the Have^ot's,' and she stuck to the Have's.
TJow-a Jays, ifaater Don Quixote, people are more inclined to feel
the pulse of Have than of Know, An ass with golden fumitue
makes a better figure than a horse vith a pack-saddle : so that 1 1«11
joa again, I hola with Camacho, for the plentiful scum of his kettles
are geese azid hens, hares and ctmeysi while that of Basilios, if he
has aiur. mnst be mere dish-water."

"IsinyspeechSnished, SanchoP" quoth Don Quiiote. "I must hove
done," tested Sancho, " becanse I see jour worship is about to be angry
at what I am saying; were it notforthat, I have work cut out for three
days." "Heaven grant that I may see thcedumk before Idle!" said
BonQoixote. " M the ratewego on," quoth Sancho, "before yon
die, I diall be mumbling clay ; in which case I may not apeak a wold
till the end of the world, or at least till doomsday." "iSumgh it be
, , .-A.oo^iic

SASOHO S rUOOUBSB ON DEATH. S67

•0 ordered," wd Dim Qakot«, " thy ta1etic«, 0 Sancho, ttíU never

btilonce thj put, present, and futnre pratm;. Besides, according to
the course of nature, I must die before thee, end therefore it will
never be mj fate to see tliy ton^e at rest, not even when drinking or
alecpins-" " f üth, sir," qnoth Sancho, " there is no trusting to good'
man Drath, who devours lambs as well u sheep ', and I have heard
ourvicarsay, 'he tramples jutt the same upon the h¡!;h teweis of
TangSj and the low cattai;e« of the poor.' That samo gliMtl; gemtle-
man a oiofC powerful tban diiintv : far from being squeamish, he eota
of evcrj-thiiis, and snatches at all ; stuffing his wolWta with peopla of
«li a^ea and degrees, Ue is not a reaper that sleeps away tbo mid-
day beat, for he cuts down and mows at all hours, the dry grase a*
well as the green. Nor does he stand to chew, but derourj and
swallows down all that cornea in his way ; havine a wolfish a;q;ietit«
that ia never satisfied ; and, though he has no belly, he seema to have
a perpetual dropsy, and a raging thirst for the lif es of all that live,
whom be gulps down jost as one would drint a jug of cold water."
" Hold, Sancao," said Don Quixote, " while thou art well, and do not
spoil tbf worlc hi over-doing ; for, in truth, what thou bast said of
death, in tiiy nistic phrase, might become the mouth of a good
preacher. If thou hadst but discretion, Sancho, equal to tby natnnd
abilitiea, thou mightest take to the pulpit, and go preacliing aboat the
world." " A aood liver ¡a the best preacher, replied Saooho, "and
that ieall thedÍTJpjtylknow." "Or need know, said Don Q\uxotei
" but I can in no wise comprehend how, since the fear of Heaven is tha
beginning of wisdom, thon who art more afraid of a liiard than of
UtiD, shonldst know so much as thou dost." " GooiL voor worships
judie of your own chivalrieH, 1 beseech yon," answered Sandio, "and
meddle not with other men's fears or valours : for I am as ^tttj a
fearer of God as any of mv neighbours ; ao pray let me whip off this
scnm, for all besides is idu talk, which one day or other we must givn
an account of in the next world." Whereupon he began a freah
araonlt upon his kettle, with so long-winded an appetite as to swakca
that of Boa Quixote, who donbtlesa would have assisted him had ha
not been prerented bj that which must forthwith be related.

CHAPTBK XXL

. As Don Quixote uid Sancho were engaged in the convaaalioit
mentioned in tlie preceding chapter, they suddenly heard a greid ont-
ory and tioiBe raised by those mounted on the mans, shouting a* they
cooped to meet the bride and bridegroom, vho were entñiug the
bower, saluted by a thonaond musical matrumenti of all kinds and
faiventions, accompanied by 'the parish priest and kindred oa both
fides, and by a nomber td the better class of people from the Dei^>
bourmg towns, all in their holiday apparel. Vt hen Sancho espied the
bdde be said, In good ftith, she ú aot clad like a oouBtry-girl, but

b66 i>aii qiJixoTE.

IDte any court lady ! Bj tliB mass ! her brenst-piece seems to me at
this distance to be of rich coral and her Bown, instead of ¡jrcen stuff
of Cuenw, is no less than a tliitty pilea velvet ! Besides, the trim-
mtnp, I vow, is of satin ! Do but obaerve her bands— instead of rina
of je^ let me never thrive but they are of gold, ay, and of real roII
with pearls as white as a curd, every one of thera worth an eye or
one's bead. Ah, jade ! and what fine hair she has ! If ii be not lalse,
I neier saw lonjer nor fairer in all my life. Then her sprightlinesa
ftndmien, why, alie is a very movin;- palm-tree, laden with branches of
dates : for just so look the trinkels han^ngat her hair sad about her
neck ; by my soul, the girl b so covered witb plate that she miifht
pass the banks of the FlanderB."*

Don Quijtote smiled at Sanchtf s homelv iirwses ; at the same time
he thought that, excepting the mistress of his soul, he had never seen
amore beautiful woman. The fair Qaiteria looked a little pa!e,occ.v
aioned, perhaps, by a want of rest the preceding night, which brides
nsBallj employ in preparing their wedding finery.

The briaai pair proceeded towards a theatre on one side of the
nboor, decorated with tapestry and garlands, where the nuptial
ceremony was to be performed, and whence they were to view the
dances and shows prepared for tbe. occasion. Irnmediately on their
■nival at that place, a loud noise was heard at a distance, amidst
which a voice was distinguished calling alond, "Hold a Utile, rash
and thonehtless people I On turning their heads they saw that
these words were iitf ered by a man who was advancing; towards them,
clad in a black doublet, welted with flaming crimson. He was
OTowned with a garland of mournful cyiress, and held in his hand b
large trnnclieon; and, as he drew near, all recognised the gallant
Basiüus, and waited in fearful expectation of some disastrous result
from this unseasonable visit. At length he came up, tired and ont of
breath, and placed himself just before the betrothed couple; then,
pressing his staff, which was pointed with steel, into the ground, he
toed ills eyes on Quiteña, aní, in a broken and tremulous voice, thus
addressed tier ; — Ah, fslse and forgettal Quiteria, well thou kuowest
that, hv the laws of our holy religion, thou canst not marry another
man whilst I am living; neitiier art thon ignorant that, while wailing
till time and mine own industry should improve my fortune, I have
never failed in the respect due to tliv honour. But thou hast cast
aside every obligation due to my lawful love, and art going to make
another man master of what is mine : a man who is not on]y enriched,
but rendered eminentlyhappy by Ms wealth; and, in obedience toÜie
will of Heaven, the only impediment to his supreme felicity I will
remoive, by w^ndrawing this wretched being. Long live the rich
Camacho with the ungrateful jQuitcria I Long and happily may they
live, and let poor Basilins die, who would nave risen to good for-
tune h^ not poverty clipped bis wii^ and lud him in on early

80 saying, he plncked his staff from the gronnd, and, drawing ont
a short tuck, to which it had served as a scabbard, he fixed what
might be called the bilt into the ground, and, with a nimble spring

* To pass the bonk of Flanders ia a phrase oaounonly uoed ta sxpraM
the attempt or elocution ot an arduoua CDtcrp:-i«e. They «xe (Ungerou»
Band-bmka fomud by the wavca of the sea.

itantlr

Bj;^aiju^ UL ii*o ULUjk^ iiiii innjj vr;^iuu jrtj Miut^:iitu uii LUV (^tOUnd,

pierced tlirough aiid throug]), aud welleiiug in bis blood.

His friends, struck with horror acd giief, rushed forward to Iiel»
Him, aiid Don Quixote, diamouiitiag, hastened also to lend liis itii^
and, tukin^ the dfing man in his arms, found that he vrae Etill alive.
ITiey would bare drawn out the tuck, Ijut the priest who was present
thauffbt that it siiould not be done till hs haa made his couiegiion;
H, tbe moment it was taken out of his bodf, he would certainly
expire. But Basilius, not having quite lost tbe power of utterance,
in a faint and doleful voice said, "If, cruel Qiiiteria, in this mv hti
■nd fatal agony, thou wouldst pie ine thy hand, as m^ spouse, I
should hope my rashness uiigbt üud pardon in heaven, since it pro-
cured me the bleasing of being tbme." UiKin which tliu priest advised
hhn to attend rather to the salvation of nis soul than to his bodily
appetites, and seriously implore pardon of God for bis sins, especiaUy
for this last des¡ierate action. Basilius replied that he could not make
any confessjou till Quiteria had given luui bee hand in mocriage, aa
tíiat would be a so&ice to his mind, and enable liim to confess Ua
iina.

Don Quixote, hearing the Tounded man's request, said, in a loud
voice, that Basuius haiTmade a Tcry just and rcasonaole request uid,
moreover, a very praclicable one ; and that it would be equally hoa^
ourable for Signur Camacho, to take Qiiiteria a widow of the brava
Basilius. as if he received her at her father's liaud: nothing b^n;
required but the simple word, "Yea," which oould be of no con-
sequence, sjnctL in these espousals, the nuptial bed must be the grave.
Camacho heard all this, and was perplexed and undecided what to do
or say; but so much was he importuned by the friends of BosiliuB to
permit Qniteria to give him her hand, uid thereby save his soul from
perdition, that they at Itm^b moved, nay forced, him to say that, if it
pleased Quiteria to give it to him, he sliould not object, since it waa
onl^ delaying for a moment the acoomplishnient of ius wishes. They
all iuimcdmtely applied to Quitarla, and, wjth entreaties, tears, and

ersuasive arauments. pressi'd and importuned her to give bcr liana
Basilius ; out she, nardcr than marble, and more immovable than &
stetuc, returned no answer, until the priest told her tliat she must
decide promptly, as the soul of Basilius was already between his teetb,
and there was no time for hesitation.

Then the beautiful Quiteña, in silence, and to all appcaranoo
troubled and sad, approached Basilius, whose eyes were already
tamed in bis bead, and ho breathed short and quick, muttering the
name of Quiteria, and iñvin^tokensof dying marc like a heathen than
a Christian. At last, Quiteria, kneeling down by him, made signs to
1dm for his hand. Basilius unclosed bis eyes, and filing them stead-
festl^ npon her, said, " 0 Quiteria, thou relenteat at a tune when thy

e'ty ia asvrord to put a final period to this wretched lifer fornowl
ve not strength to bear tbe glory thou oouferrest upon me in making
me thine, nor will it suspend tbe pain which shortly will veil my eyes
with the dreadful shadow of death. What I beg of thee, O fatal star
of mise ! is that thou give not thy band ont of compliment, or again
to deceive me, but to declare that thou bestowest it upon me as thy
lawful husband, without any compulsion on thy will— for it would be
onel IB this extremity to jleal falsely or impose on him who has bera

" I , A.OOgIC

no I>OII QCIXOIK.

10 trae to thee " Here lie fainted, and the bfstandete thoogltt hii

801^ was just departing. Qiiiterift. all modesty and bashfuloem, taking
Sasilins's right baud in here, said, "No force would be infficientto
bias my wiU: and, therefore, with all the freedom I have^ I give thee
my hand to be thy lawful wife, and receive thine, if it be as freely
giren, and if tUe an^ah caused by thy rash act doth not tnrabJe and

Srevent thee." " i'ea, 1 give it ttiee." aoswered Üasilius, " neitliw
iscomposed nor conl'uaed, but with the deareat undetstandiog thai
Heaven wa* ever pleased to bestow on me ; and so I give üid engag*
myself to be thv husband." "And I to be thy wife," answered
Quiteria, "whether tbon livest many years, <» art earned from my
arms to the grave." "I'or one BO mudi wounded," obserred
Sancho, "this jionng man talks a great deal. Advise Irim to leave
off his courUhip, and niiud the business of hia soul: tjtough to
my thinking he has it more on his tongue than between his
taeth."

BasilioB and Quiteria being thos, with hands joined, the tender-
hearted priest, with tears in bis eyes, pronounced tbe benedictioD
upon them, and prayed to Heaves (or the repose of the bridegTOom'a
soul ; who, as soon as he had received the benediction, soddenly
started np. and nimbly drew out the tuck which was sheathed in his
body. AJÍ the spectators were astonislied, and some more simple
than the rest cried out, "A miracle, a miracle!" But Basilioa
replied, " Ho miracl^ no miracle, but a stratageni, a fitrat^wa ! "
The pnest, astonished and confounded, ran to fetl, with both his
bands, the wound, and found that the sword had passed, not thronrh
BasUius's flesh and ribs, but throng a hollow iron pipe, cuonin^f
fitted to the place, and filled with blood, so prepared as not to eon<
geal. In short, the priest, Camacho, and the rest of the spectators,
found they were imposed upon, and completely duped. The bride
showed no signs of regret at tbe artifice : on the contiarj, hearing it
stud tbe marriage, as being fraudulent, was not valid, she said that
she confirmed it anew ; it was, therefore, generally supposed that the
matter had been concerted with the privity and concurrence of both
parties ■ which so enraged Cunacho uid his friends that thcr imme-
bad recourse to venfreanoe, and, unsheathing abundanee of
iiui, they fell upon Basihus. in whose behalf as many more
...e instfmtly drawn, md Don Quixote, leading the van on ht^se-
back, his lance couched, and well covered with his ahield, made
them all give way. Sancho, who took no pleasure in such kind of
frsys, retired to the jars out of which he had gotten his ohnmiAi
skimming : regarding that phtce as a sanclnary which none voola
dare to violate.

Don Quixote cried aloud, " Hold, sirs, hold ! It is not right to
avenge the injuries committed j^ust us by love. Bemember thilt'
the ¿13 of warfare and courtship are in some points alike; in war,
Btrataeems are lawful, so likewise are they iu the confiicts and rival-
ships of love, if the means employed be not dwhonourablo. Quiteria
and Basilius were destined for <Mob other by the just and favonringr
will of Heaven. Camacho is rich, and may purchase his pleasurei
when, where, and how he pleases : Basilins has bnt this one ewe-
lamb, and no one, however powerful, has a right to take it from tuin;
for tWe whom God hath joined, let no man sunder; iiul vhoent
shall attempt it tnust first pass tbe point of this luioe." Thñ he

istely

CAIfACSO la SEGONCIIXD. 371

Von^ihed it vitli STiA Tigrmr and dexterity ttut he struck teiror
'mto all tliose who did not know him.

Quiteria's disdun loade Bach an impression npon Canueho. that he
mstantlf Innisbed her from hia heart. The perauasiona, therefore, of
the priest, irho was a prudent, welt-meaning nati, had their ctTeet ;
¡Camacho and hia partv sheatlicd their vcapons, nnd remained satis-
lied: blaming rather lue fickleness of Qnitcn'a than the counniKOt
Bosiliits. '\\ ith much retison Camocho thou)(ht within himself that,
if Quitaría bred Basihus when a vir^n, she wonldlove him also when
married ; and that he had more cause to thank Heaven for so fortu-
nate an ese^ie thaa to repine at the loss he had snstaiaed. Tha
disappomted bridegroom and his foliowera, being thns cooKoled end
appeased, tliose of Basihus were so likewise ; and the rich Camaohi^
to sliQw that hi» mind was free from rejentmcnt, would have the
dirersionB and entertnmments go on as if they had heen really mar*
ricd. 'ITie happy pair, however, not choosing to share in them, retired
to ihcir own dwellins, accompanied by their joyful adherents : for if
the rich man can draw after his attendants and flatterers, the poor
nan who is virtnons and deserrinc; is foDowed by friends who honour
and snpimrt him. I)on Quixote joined the party of Basilius, having
been invited by them as a person of worth and braverv ; while Saneho,
finding it imp(«sihle to remain and share the relishing: dehghts of
Gamacho's festival, whidi continued till night, with a heavy heart
accompanied his master, leaving behind the ñesh-pots of Yigypt, the
skimmings of which, tliou^h now almost consumed, still mminded
Inmof the clonóos Bbnndance he had lost; pensive and sorrowful,
therefore, thoagh not hungry, without nligntiiis from S^ple, ho
followed the track of Koiinante.

CHAPTEa XXIl

Wiirti» Ú rtUUed 1*4 ffrand adnnlvre ef lite tail cf Moalaimot, tU*-
altd in tA« heart of La JioacAa, isMtít Ikt vofotvu Don ^ixaU
iappSy acmtiplMtiL

LooKixa upon themselves as greatly obliged for the valour be had
shown in defending their cause, tlic newly-married couple made
much of Don Quixutc; and j adoring of his wisdom by his valour, they
accou^ied him a Cid in arnis and a Cicert) in eloquence ; and during
three days honest Sancho solaced himself at tiicir expense. The hridc-
);Toom explained to them his stratagem of the fei^ed wound, and
told them it was a device of hii own, and had been concerted with the
fair Quiteña. He confessed, too, that he had let some of his Iriends
into the secret, that they might sup^rt Ids deception. " That oiisht
not to be caJlcd deception whioli aims at a virtuous end," said Don
Quixote : and no end is more exosUeut than the mainage oi true
lovers ; though love," added he, " has its enemies, and none greater
tWnhungerand poverty, for love is all gaiety, joy, and content."

This he intended as a hint to Baaikus, whom he wished to draw
3b S

X78 sos qcixotx.

from the pursuit of his fuTourite eienases : for, thoupii they promired
liioi lainc, tlcy were unproGlable ; and it waa now his duty to esert
hjciisetr for the improvement of his circumatances, by Wful and
prAÍsenonliv meaos, which ore never iiantjne to the prudent and
BCtive. "liie poor, yet honourable, inan," said he, " adinitting that
bonmir and povertv can be united, in a beautiful wife possesses a

irecious jewel, and, whoever deprives him of her, despoils bim uf bis
ODouT. The chaste and beautiful wife of an indigeat man deserves
the palm aud lanrel crowna of victorf and triumpL Scauty of itself
attracts admiration and love, and the royal eagles and other towcrius
birds sloop to the tempting lure ; bat if it is found onprotetted and
exposed to poverty, kites and Tultures ore nontinualli hovering round
it, aud watching it as their natural pre;-, i^'ell, therefore, may she be
called the crown of her husband who maintains her ground in so

E:rilous a siluation. It was the opinion of a certain sage, Ü discreet
asilius, tliat the worhl con1ai[ii;d only one good woman, aud he
advised every man to persuade himself that sbc was fallen ¡a his lot,
and he would then Eve contented. Although nnmarricd myself, 1
would venture to offer my counsel to one who should requh-e it in tho
dioice of D wife. In Ihe fltst place I would advise bim to consider
the puritj' of her fame more tliaa her fortune: a virtuous wonan
seeks a fair reputaliou not only by being good, but by appearing to bo
GO ; for a woman suffers more in Ibe world's opinion by public inde-
cnruin than secret wanlouncss. If the wonian you bring to your
house he virtuous, it is an easy matter to keep her so, aud eveu
to improve her good qualities ; but if she be otherwise, yoiL wiil
bavc much trouble to correct uer ; for it is not easy to pass frou
one exti'cinc to the other ; it may not be impossible, but certainly
it bverv difficult."

To all this Sancho listened, and said to himself, " Tliis master of
"'"" *'"" -le when 1 speak ot things of marrow and substanct that
Í a pulpit mmv r ' ' ■ - ■■ ■<

..y 1 say to him the

„. _ _ it his advice, he ni_, , ^—^ , ,

two upon each finger, and stroll about your market-places, crying on.,
' Mouth, what wilT you have?' The devil take thee for a knight-
ernuit that knows everything! I verily thought tliat lie only knew what
belonged to his cbivalrjes, bnt he pecks at everything, and thrusts bis
spoon into cverv dish." Sancho muttered tbis so very loud that ho
was overheard oy bis master, who said, " Sancho, what art thou mut-
tering ? " " Nothmg at all, answered Sancho; " 1 was only saying
to myself that I wished 1 had heard your worship preach in this way
ilefore I was marrii'd : then perhaps I should have been able to aay
now, ' The at that is loose is Ijcat Ucked.' " " Is thy Teresa, tlien, so
bad, SanchoP" quoth Don Quixote. '" She is not veiy bad," answei^
Sancho' " neither is she very good, al least not quite so good as I
would nave her." " Thou art in the wrong, Sancho," said Don
Quijote, " to speak ill of thy wife, who is the mother of thy chil-
dren." " "We owe each other nolning upon that acore," answered
Sancho, " for she speaks as ill of me, whenever the fancy takes her
— especially when slio is jealous ; and then Satan himself cannot bear
with her."

Three davs they remained with the new-married couple, whore they
nere served and treated like kings ; ei the end of wlucli time, Don

A.OOgIC

tubi tboceed to tox cávb of uo^tcskob. 373

Qniiote requested the student, irlifi was so deiterons a feiicsr, to

nute him a pniide to the care of Montesinos ; for he liwl a great
■e to descend into it, in order to see vfith Ins owa eves iif the
wonders reported of it were really true. The student told liim he
would introduce iiini to a yo<ins tclation of his, a good scholar, and
much given to reading- books of chivalry, who would TCry pladly
oecompfinT him to the very mouth of the cave, and also show him tha
lakes of Itnvdem, bo famous in La Mancha, and even ail orer Spain ;
addinr that lie would find him a venr entertaining^ companion, as he
knew how to write boots and dedicate tliem to princes. In short, the
cousin apjieared, mounted on an ass with foel, whose pack-saJdle was
corered Milh a doubled piece of an old carpet or sackin;;-, Sancho
saddled Boiinnnte, patinellcd Dapple, and replenished his «allcts;
those of the scholar bciag also wcli nrocided ; and thus, after taking
leave of their friends, and commending themselves to Heaven, they
Bet oat,^ bending their course directly towards the bmous care of
Montesinos.

Upon the road, Don Qaixote asked the scholar wliat were his exer-
cises, his profession, and his studies. He replied that lila studies
and profession were literary, and his emplojTnent, composins Ixiofcs
for the prEM, on useful and entcrtainbg subjects. Aiiionji otliers, he
«aid he had pnblished one Ihat was entitled, " A Treatise ou Live-
ries," wherein he had described seven hundred and three liveries j
with their coioura, mottoes, and cyphers ; forminn a coilcclion from
which gentlemen^ without the trouble of ¡nvcutiii" might select
accordinK to their fancy; for, being adapted to all occasions, the
jealous, tlie disdained, the forsaken, and the absent, misht all there
be nnited. " I have, likewise," said he, " just produced another
book, which I intend to call, "The Metamorphoses; orSpani«)iOvid.'
The idea is perfectly novel ; for, in a burlesque imitation of Ovid, I
havpffiven the oricin andhistoryoftheQiraldaofSeville, the Anfrel of
lift Mliiidflleiia," tlie Conduit of Vecinsucrra at Cordova, the bulls of
Guisando, tne Sierra Morena, the fountains of Deuanitos, and the
Larapies in Miidrid, not forgetting the Piojo, the golden pipe, and thj
Prtoi7 ; and all these vrith tlieir several tranafonnations, aili'soriea.
and metaphors, in such a manner as at once to surprise, instnict, and
entertain. Another book of mine I call, ' A Supplement to \ irgil
Pdvdore,' t which treats of the inveniion of things ; a work of vast

matters omitted by Polydore, and enplnined them in a superior style.
Vitpl, (or instance, forgot to tell us who was the first in tlie world
that caught a cud, and vrho was first anointed for the French
diseaae. These points I settle with the utmost precision, on the
testimony of above five-and-twenty authors, whom 1 have cited:
«u that yoar worship may judge whether I bavo not laWurea
well, and whether the whole world is not likely to profit by such a
perfonnsnco."

* Tlie Augol of La Mi^daleaa is a shapelosa Hgnrn placed for n iccnther>
OMk oa tha steopla of io cbureh of St. Mafiílaleo U Solnmnnci. Th*
ooBiluit of Vecinguana carries the rain-water from iho atreela oí Cordova
to the Gundaliiuiver. Tha fountaina of Lecanitos, lot., arc nil «¡tuatod In
■ tha promami'loa and public placea of Madrid-

t Ha should hava aaid Polydore Virgil. Ho wns n leoniod Italian, who
pnUbbed, in 149V, ttas treatUa Da rerun Inrntoribm.

A.OOgIC

374 sos onxon.

Sandio, who had been attetttive to the Etadenf s diacoirTse, endl
"Tell me, air — bo may Hesren send jon food luck with jont book»—
tan yoo reaohe me— ont I know you cm. since von know eTsrytbing
— wno was the first man that scnitclied his head F I, for my part^ am
of opinion, it mnst have been our falhcr Adam." " Certainly," an-
Bwered the scholar ; " for there is no doubt bnt Adam had a head and
hairj ami, this being granted, he, being the first man in the worid,
musí needs have been the first who scratched bis head," " That ia
yihat 1 think," aaid Sancho ; " bat leU me now, who waa the Sret
tumbler in the worid?" "Trolyj brother," answered the lekilu;
" I cannot detenni '' ^ ■ • -" ^ i .■_... v -i

ation. which I wil
satisly yon when it

.r thrown headlong from heaven, and came tnmblii^ down to

the lowest ¿bjsa." " You are in the right^ friend," qwilh theachoW
" That question and answer are not thine, Sancho, said Don Quixote t
"thoabaatfaeanl them before." " Say no more, sir," replied Sancha
"for, in good faith, if we fall to questioning ana answennf . «e diall
not have done before to-morrow morning; beeidea, for fo^id qpen-
tions and foolish anawers I need not be obliged to any of my neigki-
bonis." " Sancho," quoth Don Quixote, " thon bait said more l&w
thou net aware of; for some there are who bestow much labour is
examining and explaining thinga which when known are not worth
recollecting."

In such conversation they pleasantly passed that day, and at lugbt
took np their lodging in a small village, which the señalar told Don
Quiiote was distant but two leagues from the cave of Montesinoa,
and that if he persevered in his resolution to enter into it, it waa
necessary to be provided with rope, hy which he might let himself
down. I)on Quixote declared that, it it reached to lh« abyaa. he
woidd see the oottom. They procured, therefore, near a hundred
faUiom of cord ; and about two in the afternoon of the following day
arrived at tbe mouth of the cave, which they found to be wide and
spacions, bnt so much overgrown with briar^ thorns, and wild ip-
trees, as to be almost concealed. On paroeiving the- cave, they
alighted, and the scholar and Sancho proceeded to bind the oord fast
round Don Quixote, and. while they were thus employed, Banobo
said, "Have scare, sir, dear eir. what yon are about; donot bury
3'onrself alive, nor han^ yourself dangling like a flask-oi wine let down
to «xil in a well ; for it is no bnsineas of your worship to pry into
that hole, which must needs be worse than anv dungeon. " Tie on,"
replied Don Quixote, "and bold thy peace ; for such an enterprise w
this, friend Sancho, was reserved for me alone." The guide then
said, " I beseech your worship, Signor Don Quixote, to be observant,
and HÍth a hundred eyes see, exiilorc, and examine, what is below;
perhaps many things maytherebediseovercdworthyof being inserted
m my book of Uetatiiorplioscs." "The drum." quoth Sancho, "is
in a hand that, knows fulfwell how to rattle it."

The knight being well bound— not over his armour, but his doublet,
he said, "We liave been careless in neglecting to provide a bell, to
be tied to me with this rope, by the tinkling of -whioi ynu nii^t IÚm
A.OOgIC

THE KNIGOT SESCXNIIS IStO THE CATS, 875

hmti me «till desomdin?, and therebv hare kncnm that 1 was alive :
but eicce that is now impossible, be Heaveit oír gruidc!" Kneeling
down, he fint supplicated Heaven for protection and success in an
adventure so new, Mnd seemingly so perilous ; then raisiris his voice,
BB said, "O mistress oí ever^ act aud movement ot my life, most
iUustrioos and peeriess Duicioea del Toboso! if the prayers uid
reijuests of this thy adventuroas lover reaeb thy ears, by the power OÍ
thy unparalleled beauty 1 coajaxe thee to listen to them, and grant
me thy favour and protecUon in this moment of iearful necessity,
when I am on the point of phingiug-, ingnlfing and precipitating
nya^ into the profooitd abyss helare me, solely to prove to the
world that, if thou favourest me, there is no impossibility I will not
Attempt axd overeóme."

So laying he drew near to the cavity, and observing; that the en-
bvBoe was so choked with vegeUtioa as to be almost mipeiietrablc,
ha drew his sword, aad began to cut and hew down the brambles and
buhes with which it was covered; whereupon, disturbed at the
noiso and rustiing wfaii^ he made, presently out rushed such a flight
oj itage daws uid ravens, as well as bats and other night birds, that
ke was thmwii down, aad had be been as eaperstitious a* he waa
aathtJio, he woald have taken it for an ill omei^ and relinquislied the
entarpnae. Rising agaia npon his legs, and seeing no more creatures
Sj out, the sehokir and Sancho let him down into the fearful cavern;
■od, as he entered, Siuicho^ve him his blessing, and making a tliou-
sand crooaea over bim, said. " God, and the rodt of France, together
with the Trioity ot Gaeta,* speed thee, thou flower, and cream, and
skimming of knights-eniint ! There thou goest, Hector of tlic world,
heart of stee! and arm of brass ! Once more, Heaven guide thee, and
■end thee back safe and sound to the light of this world which thou
art now forsaking for that horrible don of darkness," The scholar
^90 added his prayers ,ki those «f Sancho ^ot the knight's success
Bad happy return,

Don Qtiiiote went down, still calling as he descended for more
Tope, whkch they eave him by little and Uttlej and when the voice,
owing to the windings of the care, could be hrárd no longer, and the
huniurd fathom of cordage was all let down, they thouii^ht that they
should pull him up again, since they could give him no more rope.
iowever, after the lapse of about luüf an hour, they began to gathra
up the rope, which tiiey did so easily that it appeared to have no
weight attaehid to it) whence the^/wniecturea that Don Quiiote
remained in the cave ; Sancho, in this belief, wept bitlerl/, and pulled
up the-r^pe in great haste, to ksow the truth ; but having drawn it
to«little above eight fathoms, they had the satisfaction a;,^in to feel
the weight. In shorty after raising it up to about the tenth fathom,
ttey could SCO tbe knight very distinotly ; upon which Sancho imme-
diately called to him, saying. " Welooma back again to us, dear sir,
iaz ve began to feu yon meaat to stay below ! " But Don Quixote
■eawered not -a word ; and being now drawn entirely out, they per-
ceired that his eyta were shut, as if he were asleep. They then laid

D th» district of Alberoa.

879 DON QDixon.

bim alons; fíjt annua, and unbotmd limn ; but as he ilfll did noi
awake, tlii'j turned, imlled, and shook him so much, that at last he
came to himself, strrtcliing nud yawning just as if he had awaked ont
of a deep and heavy aloep ; and, looking wildly ahout liiin, he said.
Heaven fornre ye, my friends, for hayins bron^t ine away from the
most delicious and cliarming state that ever mortal cnj^ed! In
truth, I am now thorougljly satisflcd that all the pleasures of (his life
pass «way like a shadow or dream, or fade like a flower of the fieM.
O unhappy Montesinos! 0 desperately wounded Durandnrte! O
unhappy Ifelerma! O weeping Guadiana! And ye unfortunate
dau|;ht('rs Kuydera, whose '^aten show what floods of tears hare
(trcnnied from your fair eyes!"

Tlic scholar and Snneho listened to Don Quiiote's words, which he
ottered as if drawn with excessiie pain from his entrails. They en-
treated him to explain, and t« fell them what he had seen in that
bottomless pit. "Pit, do yon coll it P" aaid Don Qui:(ole ; " call it
so no [Rore, for it deserves not that name, as you sliall presently
hear." He then told them that he wanted food extremely, and
desired they would give hini something to eat The soholar's car^Mt
was aecord:ngly npread upon the irrass, and they immediately applied
to the pantry of his wallets, and being all three seated in loving and
Boeial fellowship, they made their dinner and supper at one me^.
When all were satislled, and the earpet removed, Don Quixote dc la
Mancha said, " Remain where 70U are, my aons, and listen lo nw
with attention."

CHAPTER XXnL

<y the renrlrrflil liingi «tieh lie aKcmpliihed Don Qotio/i *■ la Sfttnda
dfclared A* had mii ta, lAe enrt i>f Monlainoi, fivn lAe íiírnonfímiry
«BÍWí qf nAíeA, tkit adventure a held to bi apottyphal.

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, when the snn being
covered by clouds, its temperate rays gave Don Quixote an opportu-
nity, without heat or fatigue, of relating to his two illustrious hearer»
wli¿ he had seen in the cave of Montesinos ; and be began in the
following manner: —

" About twelve or fonrteen fathoms deep, in this dun;;eon, there is
on the right hand a hollow space, wide enough to con1*in a large
waggon, losether with its mutes, and faintly lighted by some distant
Kwrtures above. This cavity 1 happened to sec, as I joumevcd on
through the dark, witiiout knowing whither I was going : and, a» I
was just then be^naing to bo weary of haMing bv the rope, I deter-
mined to enter, m order to rest a little, t called out to yon akmd,
and desired yon not to let down more rope till I hid you ; but it seems
you heard me not. I then collected the cord yon had let down, and
coiling it up into a heap, or bundle, 1 sat down upon it, full of
tbouftbl, meditating how I might descend to the bottom, haying
nothing to support my weight. In this situation, pensive and emlnr-
laased, a deep alcep sudden!; cune over me, from which, I know not

A.OOgIC

ITHAT THE m&HT SAW IH TBE CATZ. 377

' hoT, I OS snddcnh awoke, and foond tliat I had been transported into
KTerdaut lawn, the most tlelishtful that Nature could create, ortlie
liteliest fancy imft^ne. 1 rubbed in; eyes, wiped tliem.and perceived
that I vaa not asleep, but really tmeie. Keverthclesa I felt my heiul
and breast, to he assured timt it was 1 myself, and cot pome empty
and counterfeit illusion ; but sensation, feeling, and the coherent dis-
course I held with myself, convinced me tiiat I was the identical
person which I am at this moment. 1 soon discofered a royal
and splendid palace or eaütle, whereof the walls and buttlements
seemiál to be composed of laigut nnd transparent crystal; and n^ '

orer his shoaWers and breast he wore a Kind t>t coUegiatu tipuet of
green satin ; he had a black Milan cap on his head, and his lioory
beard readied below his eirdle. He carried do weapons, but held &
msar^ of beads in his hand, as Urge as walnuts, and every tenth bead
the siec of an ordinary ostrich e^. Uis mien, bis gait, his !?ravity,
and his goodly presence, each sm^ly and conjointly, üUcd me witli
surprise and admiration. Ün coming up, he embraced me, and said,
"The day is at length arrÍTed, most renowned and valiant Don Quixote
de la Manclio, that we who are enclosed in this enchanted solitude
have long hoped would briraf thee hither, that thou mayest proclaim
to the world the things pmdigiousand incredible that lie concealed in
this subterranean place, commonlv called the cave of Montesinos — on
exploit reserved for your inTmcible heart and stupendous coun^^e ;
Come with me, illustrions sir, that I may show yon the wonders con-
tained in this transparent castle, of whicb I am warderand perpetoal
Buatd ; for I am Montesinos himself, from whom this cave derives it*
name.' He had no sooner told me that he was Montesinos than I
aslcd him whether it was trae wliat was rcnjorted in the world abore^
that with a little d^rger he had taken out the heart of his great friend
DuTondarte, and oonTCf ed it to the lodv lielerm^ ^reeable to his
dying request. He replied that the whole was true, excepting as to
the dagger ; for it was not a small dagger, hot a bright poniard,
ehatper than an awl."

"That poniard," intermpted Sancho, "must bsvs been ntade hj
Baymond do Hozes, of Seville." " I know unt who was the maker,"
0aia Don Quixote : " hut, on reflectioiL it could not have been Bay-
mond de Hozes, who lived but the other day, whereas the battle of
Bonoesvalles, where this misfortune happened, was fought some ages
ago. But that question is of no intportanoe, and does not affect the
Irsth and connection of the story." " Tme," answered the sdiolar ;
" piay go on, Signor Don Quixote, for I listen to your account with
the gicatest pleasure imaainable." " And 1 relate it with no less,"
answered Don Quixote : and so to ptooeed~the venerable Mónte-
nnos conducted me to the crystaEine palace, where, in a lower hall,
ibrmed of alebutet and extremely cool, there stood a morble tomb of
exquisite workmanahip, whereon I saw extended a knight, not of
brass, or marble^ or jasper, as is usual with other mouaments, but of
pure flesh and bonea. His ri^t hand, which seemed to me somewhat
hair; and nervous (a token of great sb^ngtih), was laid on the region
of ius heart ; and before I could ask any question^^ontesmos, per-
«iving ni; attention fixed on the aepnlchre, said, ' This ia m; itiesd

m SON vaaam.- - -

Durandute, tbe fiover md model of all the enamoiRKl Hitd vaJimt
luui^lils-crnuit of liia time. He is kept liers euchaoted, as «ell as
nwseli and maoy others of both sei^ca, by that I'rencb enchanter
Miirlia, said lo be the devil's son, vliich, however, 1 do not credit:
thougli indeed 1 believe he know» oue paist more than the devil bim-
sell. Hcvi, or «Lv, we nre tliua enehatiled no'one cau tell ; but tima
will toiikiD it, and tbat, t«o, I imaging al do distant period. What
aatoniEliesineis that 1 am as certain aa that it is now da.v, that Duras-
darte eipireii in mj arms, md that, after fac'was dead, with these
hands 1 puUed out bis heait, which could not have vei^hed less than
two pounds : confirming the opinion oi natuialiata that a man's vigour
is in oroportiim to the siaa of tils heaii. Yet, certaia as it is that thii
cavalier is really dead, bow comea -it to pass that, ever and anon, in
siihfl and moans as .if he were alive P '—Scarcely were these words
ottered, thaji the -wretohed Darandartc, cryinf oat akiad, said, ' O
V\J cousin Montesinos { at the moment my soul wa* departm?, mj
last request of yon was, that oEUr rippinjr my heart out ot my breast
witb eitlier a poniard or a daii»er, you should carry it to lielerroa.'
The rsaenUe Monteaioos hearinj; this, threw liimoelf on hia knees
before the complainiiiK knight, and witb t«ars in bis eyes, said to him,
* Long, bog since, 0 Durandartc, deaceat catuán ! loii^ since, did I
fulfil what yon ei^okied en that sad daf vhen <rou expired. I to<d:
out your lieart viUi aJl imaginable care, not kavin?- tlie smalleat par-

my hands and clean away the bbed with wfiioh t)iey wore smeared by
nudni; into your entrails.; and furtbermor«, dear cousin of my soul, at
tile ürst i)láce I stopped, after leavins KoncesvttUes, I sprinkled a
little salt over yonr heart,-and thereby kept it, if not fresh, at least
from emitting aat «apleaaant odour, until it was prescated to the
lady Belerma: who, together with you and myself, and your Squire
Guadiana, ana tiie duenna Ruydera, witli her seveu daii^hccrs, and
two nieces, as well as several otbera of your friends and actiuaintaae^
bave been long «oufiaed here, enchanted by the sage >Lerlin; and
though it b now above five hundred years since, we arestill alive. It
b true, Uuydera and ker daughter and nieces bave \ett us, having so
far moved the compassion of Merlin, bv their iuceasant weeping, that
be turned tiiem into at many lakes, which at this time, in tbe world
of the living, aad in the nrovmce of La Manchay are called tlio lakes
of Euydura. The seven sisters belong to tlio kings of Spain, and tbe
two neices to the most holyorderof Saint John. Guadianaalso, your
S<iuire, bewaihng your misfortune, was in like manner chained into a
liver, still retaining liis same : but when he reacbcd the sur&ee of
the earth, and saw the sun of another sky, he was so grieved at the
thought of forsaking you that he plunged again into the bowels of the
earth: nevertheless he was compelled bv the kwa of nature to rise
^ain, and occasionally show himself to the eyes of men and the lijtlit
cf heaven. Tlie lakea which I have mentioned supply bim with tbeir
waters, and with them, joined by several others, he nrnkes his majestic
entrance luto the kingdom of Portugal. Yet, wherever be flows, bis
grief and melancholy still continue, breeding only coarse and unsavourr
fish, very difiercnt from tliose of the golden 'lagus. ¿11 this, O mj
dearést cousin 1 I have often told you befoK, sod since you make me

A.OO'^lc

TH£ KHIGHT COHTBXRB WRH UOSTZBISOe. 370

■0 answer, I fmeTToa either donotbeKeve, ordonot hear me, which,
beavei JcBowi, alniets mu vetr much. Bnt now 1 h&ve other tidin;^
to cooiiwuücate, whicta if ther ilo not al)«T¡ate. will in aowtse bcresae,
yOBT BWTOw. (Jpeo yow eyes «ntl behold here, in your presence,
that giest bi^t, of whom the sage Meriin has foretold so many
«rondeiv— that same Don Quixota de ta Mmchft, 1 say, who hat
revivsd witli new splendour the loii^-negiected order of knight-
enanti'y, aod'by whoec prowess and fuTour, it may, perhaps, be oar
pood fortane to he releasi^d from the spelU by which we are here held
in oorcBnement ; for great exptoita are reserved for pre^t men,' 'And
though it ebcald not be so,' an»wered the wretched Durandarte in a
fakt and low voice— 'thoueji it should prove otherwiie, O «wain !
1 cuicailrsai — patience asashuSe the cards.' Thm taming himself
«D onasMe, W-relapsed into hia acouatomed sileuc».

" At that monent, heannK loud oríes and lamentations, with other
BODnds of distress, I tamed my head, and aaw,-4hrough the crystal
walli of tb« palaee, a proeesnon, in two lines, of beAotifu) cUmselai all
attired in mottming, aod'tcith white turbans, in the Turkish fashion.
Those were followed by a lady— for so she seemed by the ^vitv of
her air~-elad aUo in .black, with » white Yeil, so long that it readied
the giODcd. Her turban was twice the size «f the laraeflt of the
ftbera;'Bhe was boetled-hrowed, her HOoe sowewhat flattish, her
moDth widev but her lips red ; her te«tli, which she sometimes dis-
played, were thin-set and uneven, though as white as blanched
timónos. - She carried in her hscd a fine linen handkerchief, in which
I could dbcem ai human heart, withered and dry, like that of a
mnmmy. Montesinos told me that tlie dasisels whom I saw were
the attesdants-of Durandarte and Jielarraa— all enchanted like their
master and mistress— ajid that the female who closed the proeeiaion
was the bdy Belerma herself, wito four days in the week walked in
that mauier.with her damsels, singing, or-rather weeding, dirges oret
the body and piteous heart of his cousin; and that if Ghe appeared
to me less t>eautiful than fame reported, it was occasioned by the bad
nights -and worsa days she fiaosed in that -state of enehantmcnt : as
Wight be seen by ber sallow complexión, and the deep furrows in her
face. * Nor is the hollowness of her eyes and pallid skin to be attri-
bated t»aity disorders incident to women, since with these she has
Dot for months and years been visiicdj bat merely to that deep afflic*
tion whick incassantly preys on her heart tor the untimelv death of
ber htver, stflLimewed and kept alive by what she continUBlly carnes
in ber hsnds : indeed, had it not been for this, the great Dulcinea del
Toboso herself, so mncb celebrated here and over the whole world,
woold scarcely have eqiialled her in beaoty of person or ewcpiness of
manner.' 'Softly,' said I, 'good Signor Montesinos; comparisons
yon know are odious, and th<;refore let them be spared, I Ueseecli
TOO. The peerless Dulcinea is what she is, and the lady Donna
Belenna is what she is, and what she has heeu, and there let it rest.'
* Pardon me, Signer Don Quixote,' said Montesinos, ' 1 might hava
guessed that your worship wa* the kdy Dulcinea's kni^t, and ought
to have bit my tongue oif rather than it ahooid have compared her
to anything Irás than heaven itself.' This satisfaction being giTot
me by the great Montesinos, my heart recovered from the shook it
had sustained on hearing my mbtress compared with Belenna." " I
wonder," qaoth Sancho, " that your worship did not give the old

no BON QÜIXOTB.

feltoir a heaxij kiolin^, and pluck liis beard for liim tul jon }isd net

dBtfie

_n his chin. " No, friend Sanriio," (mswcpcd Don

Quixote, it did not become me to do 90; for we nre nil bnnnd to
respect tlie B^ed, alüiongh not of the order of knighthood ; still more
those ^¥ho are so, aiid who besides are euchantcd; but trust mc.
SoDcho, in other discourse wliich we held together, 1 fnirly matched

Here the scholar said, "I cannot imagine, St^or Don Qtiixot<^
hoff it was j)03sible, havin; been so short a space of time below, that
your worship should have seen so many thintca, and hare brara and
said so rauph." *' How lonir, then, may it be since I descended f "
quoth Don Qniiote. "A little ahovc an iiour," answered Sancho.

That cannot be," replied Don tjuixote, " for niirht came nn, and
was followed by morning tliree times Bucoessivcly ; so that I must
have sojourned three days in these remote nod hidden parts." " My
master, said Sancho, " most needs he in the ri^ht ; for, as ernTihiog
has happened to him in the waj; of enchantment, wliat seems to ns
but an hour may títere seem full three daj's and tbree nights "
" Doubtless it must be so," answered Don Qurrote. " I hope," said
(he sehohir, " your worship w»e not without food all this time?"
" Not one mouthful did I tast«," said the knight, " nor was I sensible
of hunger." "What, then, do not the enchanted eat?" said the
scholv. " No," answered Don Quixote, " although some think that
theirnails and beards still continue to BTow." "And prnv, air," said
Suncho, "do they never sleepf" "Cerlamly never/' said Doa

Siiixotej "at least, dnrina; tlie three days that I have been nnionfrst
em, not one of them has closed an eye, nor have I slept myself."
" Here," said Sancho, " the proverb is right ; 'tell me thy company,
and I will 1«ll thee what thou art.' If yonr worship keeps company
with those who fast and watch, no wonder that you neilW eat nor
sleep j'ourself. But pardon me, good master of mine, it I tell j-onf
worship that, of all you have been saying, Heaven— I was going to
sav the devil—take me if 1 believe one word." "Howl" said the
sonolar, "do you think thii Signor Don Quixote would lie? Dirt
were be bo disposed, he baa not had time to mvent and fabricate such
atale." " I do not think my master lies," answered Sancho. "Wha^
then, dost thou think P" said Don Quixote. "L think," ansn'erea
Sancho, " that the neorainancers, or that same Merlin who enchanted
all those whom your worship says you saw and talked with there
belbw, have crammed into your hewl all the stuff you have told ns,
aod all that you have yet to say."

"All that is pOBsioie/' said Don Quixote, "only that it happens
not to be so: forwhatlhave related I saw with my own eyes and
toncbedwith my own bands. But what wilt thou say when I tell
thee that, among an infinite number of wonderful and surprising
Ihingn shown to nK by Montesino*, whereof 1 will give an account
hereafter (for this is not the time or place to speak of tliem), he
pointed out to me thteo country trenches, dancinir and capering like
kids aboat those charming fields, and no sooner did I behold them
than I recognised in one of the three the peeriess Dnicinea herself,
and in the other two the very same wenchea that attended herv ana
with whom we hold some parley, on the road from Toboso ! Upon
my asking iUoRtesinos whether he knew them, he said they were

A.OOgIC

SULCUnA BKCEAXIfll. SSI

itrangen to hiin, thoojsli be believed them to be some ladici of qat^j
blely encbanted; bavmg made their appeamiae tlicre hut a few da;rs
bel'ore. Kor should that excite my wonder, he snid, for many dia-
tingutshed ladies, both of the past and present times, were ent^hanted
there under different forms ; among wnom he had oiacoTcred Queen
Ginebra, and her duenna Quintauuooa, cupbearer to Lancclut nhen
he came from Britain."

_ When Sunoho heard his mastet aay all this, he was ready to run
distracted, ur to die with laughter ; for, kDowin^ that he was himself
Dulcioea's cuchanter, he now made no doubt that his master had lost
his imses, and was ravin|; mad. '' Id an evil hour aud a woeful dar,
dear master of mine," said he, " did you ffo down U> the othor world ;
and in a luckless moment did you meet with Signor Montesinos, vho
baa seat you boclc to us in tins plight. Your worship left ni in yoar
ti^ht, senses, such as Ueaven had given you, speaking sentences, and
giviag advice at every tum;— but now— Lord bless us, how yon
talk!" "As I know thee, Sancho," answered Dod Qoixnle, "I
heed not thv words." "Nor 1 your worship's," rephed Sancho;
" you may kill or atrike roe, if yon please, for all tbosel have said or
shall say, without you correct and Dieod your own. But tell me, sir,
now we are at peace, bow, oc by what token, did you know the lady
your ni)strr.ss ; and. if you spoke to her, «bat said you, and what did
she answer?" "1 knew her," answered DonQuiiote, "because her
R{ipare] was the same that she wore wlien you showed hei to me. I
Bpukc to her, but she anawertd me not a word; on the contrary, she
turned her back upon me, and fled with the speed of an arrow. I
would have followed her, but Montesinos dissuaded me from the
attempt, as I should certainly lose my labour; and besides, ttio bonr
qiproachcd when I must auit the cave and return to the upper world ;
he assurer! me, however, that in due time I should be informed of the
means of discncbanlina himself, Belerma, Durandartc, and all the
rest vbo were there. While we were thus talking, a eircumstanoe
occurred that gave me much concern. Suddenly one of the two com-
panioDS of the unfortuna^ Dulcinea came up to my side, all in tears,
and, in a low and troubled voice, said to me, ' My Udv Duletnea del
Toboso kisses your worship's hands, and di'siies to Know how you
do : and being at litis time a little straitened for money, she earnestly
entreats your worship would be pleased to lend her, upon this new
cotton petticoat that I have brought here, six reals, or what yon can
spare, which she promises to return vo'y shortly.' This mc8»ag«
astomshed me, and, tunirng to Montesinos, I said to him, 'Is it
possible, Signor Moatesiuos, tbat persous of quality under enchant-
ment are exposed to necessity?' To which he answered, 'Believe,
Si^or Don Quixote de !a Mancha, that what is called necessity pre-
vajls ercrywhere, and extends to aíL, not sparing even tlu>sc who are
CBchantca : oud since the lady Dulcmea sends to request a loiui of six
reals, aud the pledge seems U> be unexceptionable, Rive them to her,
for without doubt she is in great need. ' I will take no pawn,
answej-cd I ; ' nor con I send her what she desires, for I have but
four reals in my pocket. I therefore send her those tour reals'^ bcius
the game thou gaveat me the other d:^, Sauoho, to bestow m alms
on the poor we should meet vnlli upon the road : and I said to the
rfamtpl, • Tell your lady, friend, that I am grieicd to the soul at her

A.OOgIC

dislresse8,aiidwíshIwereiiarickMaFiK»r,*toranicíythein. Bn*
pn^ let lier be told tbat I neither can, nor will, have healck while
Beprived of faet amiable pretence aod discreet cumersatian : and that
I earnestly beseech tbat she will voncbsofe to let lieraelf be seen sad
conversed wilji brthia her eaptive and H-ar*¿ni kitÍR:lit; t^ her,
also, that, \Fbeit she least e]qKcts it, she will hear timt I hare made a
vow like that made by the mattjuis of Jlaiitua, when ke foimd hit
nephew Valdovinos ready to espire on the moantain ; wliirfi *»», aot
to eat bread upon a tablecloth, and other matters oi (he sane kind,
till he hod rcvenjced Ms death. In hkc manner vUl I take no rest,
hnt traverse the Eeven vaiU oí the universe nitb more diligence thaa
did the infant Don Fedro of Portugal, outil her disendicmtmeot bo
acooraphshed.' 'All this, and more, your worsiiip owes my lady,'
answered the damsel ; «ad, taking the four reals, uatead of makiiM
Bie a curtsey, she cut a caper, tuU two yards high in the air, aoa
fled."

"Now Heaven defend nsl" cried Santbo; "is it possibia there
should be anythins like tliis in the world, and that euofaanters and
enchantments should so bewitch and chan^ my master's eood nnder-
■tandii^i O ht! sir! (or Heaven's sake, look toyaitrself, take cm
of your good name, and give no credit to Uiese vanities whjcb bave
robbed you of your Kensea." " Tliou lovest me, Sanclio, I know,"
said DonQuiiote, "and therefore lam induced to pardon thy prattle.

thee of some things wMeh I have se«i befcw, whereof the truth
cannot be doubted, and that will make thee give endit t« what I
bare ahready relatea."

CHAPTER SXIV.

CiB Ha»ete Benekqeli, the translator of this great work from
the original of its irst author, says that when he came to the chapter
that rttjords the adventure of the cave of Montesinos, he found oa the
nmrdn these words in Hamete's own handwritinft ; —

"1 cannot persuade myself that the whole of what is related ín this
chapter, as having happened to Don Quixote in the cave of Montesinos,
is really true : because the adventures in whíc^ he has hitherto been
enijaged are all natural and probable, whereas this ot the care is
neither one nor the other, hut exceeds all reasonable bounds, and
therefore cannot be credited. On the other hand, if we recollect the
honour and scrupulous veracity of the noble Don Quiiote, it seems
utterly impossible that he could be capable of telling a lie ; sooner,
indeea, woold he submit to be transfixed with arrows than be guütf

iBZ scaouii IS imxisHEC. 188

«f a deriatlon from truth. Bcsiilcs. if wc cousider the minrrte and
drcumstautial details tbat he entered into, it seems a stiil greater
mpnisibility that lie oonld id so short s tuna have iorcntrd ancb ft
Brae» of extrafannce. Should this adrenture, however, be considered
a> apocTjphal, let ¡I be reniembewd thai the fault is not mine. 1
vnt« it «itliout alTmoiag either its truth or fal^eboud ; therefore,
discerning and jodicioas reader, jndge for thyself, aa 1 neither can
Kor ought to do more — unless it be jut to apprise thee that Don
Quixote, on his death-hpd, is said tir hare acknoirbcdged tbat this
(wvcnture was all a fietion, invented only' because it accorded and
squared with the talcs he had been accustomed to read in bis favmuite
books." Üut to proeeed witti oar history.

The scholar was astonished no less at the boldness of Snitchn Panxa
tban at the patience of lin nmster, but attributed his present, mil^teu
to the MLisfoction he hod just received in beholdia;; his mbtresa
Jjukioea del Toboso, thou{;h enchanted ; for, had it not been so, he
conceived that Sancha's freedom of speech would have had what it
richly deserved— a manual cbaatisemeot. In truth he thoui-ht bim
much too presumtiw with the kntgbt, to whom now addressing him-
self, he sa^, "For my own part, Signor Don Quixote, 1 account
uyaelf most fiMlunttto in havmg nndcrtakea this jonmcy, as 1 tiave
thereby made four imjpoitant acquisitions. The first is tlie honour of
your worahip's aequambucc, which I esteem a great happiness; the
Moond is » knowlt^ge oí the secrets enclosed in tha wonderful cave,
tbe melamorphosM of Gnadiana, and the lakes of liujdeitL which will
be of notable nae in my Danish Ovid now in band : my third advan-
tage IB tke discovery of the antiqnitv of cards, which, it now appears,
were id nse at least in the days of the Emperor Charlemagne, ra may
be gathered from the words that fell from Duiaudarte, when, after
that Long sneech of Montesinos, he avaked, and said, 'Patience, and
shuffle the cards.' Now as be could not have learnt this phrase durinx
his enchantment, he must have learnt it in rrance, in the days út
Charlemagne; and this discovery also oomes in opportunely for my
^Supplement to Poljdore Vbgil on Antiqaities;' tor I beheva that
in his treatise he has wholly neglected the subject of cards — a defect
that will now he supplied or me, which will be of ^eat importance,
especially as I shall be able to quote an authontv so sniTe and
«itiientic as that of Signor Dnrandarte. And finai^, it has, in the
iburth place, been mr good fortnne tbns to come at the knowlcd^ of
the true source of tne livei Guadiana, which has hitherto remained
unknown."

" There is much reason in what you say," quoth the knight; "bnt
ii, by Heaven's «ill, you should obtain a license for printing your
hooks, wliioh I much doubt, to whom would you inscribe them?"
" 0, sir," said the scholar, " wc have brda and grandees in abundance,
•nd are therefore in no want of patrons." " Not bo many aa yon may
imagine," said Don Qniiole ; "lor all those who are worthy of suca
a token of respect are not equally disposed to make that generóos
return which seems dne to the labour, as well as the politeness, of tbe
author. It is my happiness to know of one exalted personage^ who
makes ample amends {or what is wantii^ in the rest, and with so
liberal a measure that, if I might presóme to make it known, I ahould

• The Count ds Leaos, Don Podro Fsmand» de Castro,

A.OOgIC

184 DON QHtXOXE.

infallibly stir up eiiv; ¡n manf a noble brcaat. But let tills raat till a
more convenieiit Reason ; for it is novr time to consider where we eIibII
lodge to-night." "Not far hence." saidtlte scholar, "is a hermitage,
the dwelling of a recluse, wiio, tliey say, was once a soldier, and is
row accounted a oious Christian, wise and cliaritalle. Near bis
hetmitaKe be has built, at his own cost, a small honse, vhicfa, liow-
«Ter, ia large enough lo accommodate the strangers who visit biB."
" Docs ihatsame hermitkeep poultry F" said Sancho. "Fewhannits
»te without tbem," answeted Don Quixote ; " for such holy men now
are not lie the hcnnils of old ¡n the deserts of Egypt, who were clad
witb leaves of the palm-tree, and fed on roots of tbe earth, £y com-
meuding tliese, however, I do not mean io reflect upon tbe hennils of
OUT times ; I would only infer tliat the penancea oi these days do not
equal the austerities and strictness u former tinica; but this is no
icasoD why tlicy may not be good ; at least I account them so : and,
at the worst, he who only wears tbe garb of piety does less harm than
the andocLons and open sinner."

'VVIkilc tbey were thus discoursing; they perceived a man coming
towards them, walking very fast, and switching on a mule Laden with
lances and halberds. 'iVben he came up to tiicm he saluted tbem,
and passed on. "Hold, honest friend, súd Don Quixote to him,
" met Links you go faster tlian is convenient for tiiut mule." "I
cannot stay," answered the man ; " as the wca^ions which I an
carrying are to be made use of to-morrow; 1 have no time to hise, and
so adieu. But, if you would know for wbat use tbey arc btended.
I shall lodge to-nigbt at the inn beyond the bermitage, and sbould

fou be travelling on the same road, you will find me there, where
will tell yon wonders; and, once more. Heaven be With yon."
He then pricked on his mule at such a rate that Don Quixote had
no time to inquire after the wonders which he had to tell; but,
as he was not a little curions, aud ea^^er for anything new, ha
detcrmiucd iaimedjal«!y to Kaatcn forwards to the inn, and pass the
night there, without touchiag at the hermitage. Tliey accordit^ty
mounted, and took the direct road to the inn, at which they artived
a little before nigbt-fatl. The scholar proposed railing at fho
hermitage just to allay their thirst ; upon which ISoncho Panza
instunüy steered Dapple in that directior:, end Pon Quixote and the
sciiolar followed his example : but, as Sancbo'a ill-luck would hava
it, the hospitable sa^e was not at bome, as they were told by the
uuder-bermit, of whom they requested some wine. He l^ild them
that bis master had no wine, but, if they would like water, he would
give them some with great pleasure. "HI had wanted water,"
quoth Sanch^ " there are wells in abundance on the road— 0 the
wedding of Camacho, and the plenty of Uoa Diego's hcHtse I When
shall I meet with your like again ! "

Quitting the hermitage, they spurred on towards the inn, and flocm
overtook a lad who was walking leisurely before them. He carried ft
sword upon his shoulder aud upon it a roll or bundle that seemed to
contain bis apparel, such as breeches, a cloak, and a shirt or two ; fot
be liad on an old velvet jerkm, witn some tattera of a satin lining;;
below which his shirt bung out at lar^, his stockings were silk, aud hia
shoes square-toed, after the court fashion. He seemed to be about
eighteen or nineteen years of age, his countenance was livelj', and bis
body active. He went on gaily singing, tochecrhim on hia way; and

A.OOgIC

BIB ASVICB TO THB FAOZ. S63

jnst u th^ overtook him, they heard the foQoffing lines, vhich the
scholar failed not to commit to caeiaoTj:

" Yon trorel very airily, air," said Don Qoixot» to him. " pray,
may I ask Thither you are bound P" "Heat and poverty, reiiliéa
the youth, " make me travel in this way ; and my intention, air, is to
join the army." " IVom heat it may well be ; but why poverty F"
«aid Don Quixote, "Sir," replied the yonth "I carry in this
bundle a pair of velvet trowsera, fellowa to my jacket ; if I wear them
out upon the road, they will do me no credit m the city, and I hare
no money to buy otbers ; for this reason, ai^ as well as tot coohess,
I go thus till I overtake some companies of infantry, which are not
twelve leagues henee, where I mean to enlist myscu, and then shall
be Bore t« meet with some baggage-waggon to codvet me to the place
of embarkation, which, thev say, ia Carthagena: for I bad rather
serve the king m his wars anroad than be the lacquey of an^ beggarly
courtier at home." "And pray, sir, have you no apporatment?

E'A the scholar. "Had I served some grandee or other pcreonof
tioction," answered the youth. " possibly 1 might have been so
rewarded : for in the service of such masters it is no uncommon thbg
to rise into ensigns or captains, from the servants'-ball- but it was
always my scurvy fate to be dangling upon foreigners or fellows with-
out a home, who allow so pitiful a aalary that luilf of it goes in starch-
ing a ruff; and it would be a miracle indeed for a poor page lo meet
with preferment in such situations." "But tell me, finend," quoth
Dou Quixote, " ia it possible that, during all the time you have eccn
in service, jou could not procure yourself a livery ?" " I have had
two," answered the pase ; " but as he who quits a monastery before
he confesses, is stripped of his habit and his old clothea are returned
him, just so did my masters treat me, for when the business for
which theyoamc to court was don^ they hurried back into the conn-
try, taking away the liveries which they had only given to make a
flourish in the town."

"A notable espilorcheria,* as the Italians say," quoth Don
Quiiole: "however, consider yourself as fortunate in havmg quitted
your former life, with so landable an intention ; for there is nothing
more honourable, next to the service which you owe to God, than to
serve your king and natural lord, especially in the profession of arms,
which, if less profitable than learning, far exceeds it in p;lory. More
^reat families, it is true, have been established by learning, yet there
IS in the martial character a certain splendour, which seems to exalt
it for above all other purauits. But allow me, sir. to offer you a

R'ece of advice, which, believe mc, yon will find worth your attention,
ever suffer yonr mind to dwell on the adverse events of your life ;
foe the worse that can bcfai you is death, and when attended with
honour there is no event so glorious. Julius Ctesar, that valorous
Eoman, being asked which was the kind of death to benreferred,
'That,' said he, 'which is sodden and onforcseeu!' Tlioughhe
aniwered like a heathen, who knew not tie true God, yet considering

* A msui nnil sordid ncüon.

386 no» qctzoTE.

humim infinnitj, it WW «ell said. For, sopposin;; you should be cut off
in the very first encounter, eillier by cannon-sliot or the sprinsiiig of ft
mine, vbat dues it signify F it is bnt dying, which is inevitable, and,
being over, thete it ends. Terence observes that the corpse of the
man whoisaltiin in battle looks better than the living soldier who has
saved himself by flight ; and the good soldier rises in estimation
according to the measure of Lis obedience to whose who comniand
him. Obserre, moreover, my son, that a soldier had better smell of
gunpowder than of musk ; and if ' old age overtakes you in this noble
profession, though lame and maimed, and covered with wounds, it
will find yon also covered with honour ; and of snch hononr as poverty
itself cannot deprive yon. From poverty, indeed, yon tie secure ;
foe care is now taken that veteran and disabled soldiers sh^ not
be exposed to want, nor be treated, as many do. their nefrro slaves,
when old and past service, turning them out of their houses, sod,
nnder pretence of giving them freedom, leave them slaves to hunget,
from wLich they can have no relief Irut iu death. I will not say
more to yon at present : — but get up behind me and go with us to
the ipn, where you snail sup with me, and to-morrow morning
purane your jonmey: and may Heaven prosper and reward your
good intentians." Tbe page declined Boa Quixote's offer of riding
Dehbd him, but readily accepted lúa invitation to supper. Sancho
now muttered to himself. "The Lord bless Ihee for a master!"
said he : " who would believe that one who can say so many good
things, should tell us such nonsense and riddles about thktoara!
"ffelT, we shall see what will como of it."
Tliey reached the inn just at t^e close of day, and Sancho was

{leased that his master did not, as usual, mistake it for a castJe.
>Dn Quixote immediatclv inquired for the man with tbe lances and
halberds, and was told oy tne landlord that he was in the stable
attending his mule. There also tbe scholar and Sancho disposed of
their beasts, foiling not to iKSour HoaáusDte with the best numget
and best aláll in Uie sttble.

CHAPTER XIV.

Don Quecotb being all impatience to hear the wonders which h>A
bem promised him hvtbe arms-carrier, immediately went in aewch
of him, and havinx found him in tbe stable, he begged Um to
relate without delay what he had promised on the mad. " My
wonders " said the man, " must bo told at leisure, and not on the
wing. Wait, good sir, till I have done with mv mule, and then I wiB
tell yon things that will amaze you." " It shall not bo delayed <m
tint account,'' answeredDon Qmsotej " for I will help you." And
so in trutb he did, winnowing the barley and cleauii^ tbe manirer;
which condescension induced tbe man the more willingly to telFhm
tale. Seating himsclf> therefore, on a atone bench at the outside of
A.OOgIC

TUB BIUTRIO AUteilllEB. SS7

the door, and having Don Qiikots (who snt nert io MmJ, »nd the
scholar, Úie pag& Suiclio Panza, tuid the innkeeper, for iua senate
ud auditora, he bogan in the following munner :

" You must know, gentlemen, Ihat in a town fonr leagaea and ft
half from this place, a certnin alderman happened to lose his ass,
all throngh the artful contrivance (too long to be told) of a wenoh,
his maid-servant; and though he tried ever? means to recorcr his
beaut, it was to do purpose. Fifteen days passed, as oablic fame
reports, after the asa nos missing, and while the unlucky aldermui
was staJuUni in the iDarkGt;^lace, another alderman of the same town
came up to him and Baid, ' Pay me for my pood news, gossip, for your
ass has made its apneuanoe.' ' Moat williuscly, neiijnoour, answered
the dthw; 'but tclJ roe — where has he been seen?' ' On the moon-
tain,' answered the other; 'Isaw fairo there this mominir, with no
pannel ox furniture npon him of any kind, and so lank that it «as
rrierous to behold him. I wonld have driven him before me and
bionght him to yon, hnt he is already become so shy that when I
went near him he took to his heels and fled to a distance from me.
Kow, if you like it, we will both go seek him; bntfirst let me put up
this of mine at home, and I will return instantly.' * You will do me
a great favour,' said the owner of the hist ass, 'and 1 shall be
happy at anr time to do as much for ^ou.'

With all these partícula™ and m these very words is the stoty
told by bH who are thoroughly acquainted with the (ruth of the afTair.
In short, the two aldermen, band in band and side by side, tmdged
together up the hill ; and on coming to the place where they expected
to find the ass, they ftiund him not, nor was ho anywhere to be seen,
though thev made diUgent search. Bein^ thus disappointed, the
alderman who had seen him said to the other, ' Hark you, friend, I
lutve thought of a stratagem by which we shall certainly discover this
■niraal, even though he had or^t into the bowels of the earth, instead
of the moontain ; and it is this : I can bray marvellously welt, and if
yon can do a little in that way the bosincss is done.' A little, say
yon, neighbour P' quoth the other, 'before Heaven, in braying, I

a 'eld to none — no, not to asses themselves.' ' We shall soon see
lat,* answered the second alderman ; ' go you on one aide of the
monntain, while I lake the other, and let us walk round it, and every
now and then you shall hr^, and I will bray; and the ass will cer-
tainly hear andanswerus^ if he still remains in these parts.' 'Verily,
neightKMr, yonr device is excellent, and worthy your good parts,
sua the owner of the ass. They then separated, according to agree-
meat, and both began braving at the same mstant, with such marvel-
Ions truth of imitntion that, mutually deceived, each ran towards
theoUier, not doubting hot that the ass was found; and, on meeting
the loser saii ' la it possible, friend, that it was not my ass that
braved f 'No, it was I,' answered the other. 'I declare, then,'
and the owner, ' that, as far as regards braying, there is not the
least difference between you and an ass ; for m my life I never
hewd anything more natural.' ' These nraisea and compliments,*
answered the author of the stratagem, 'lielong rather to you than
to me, friend ; for, by Him that made me. you could ^ve the odds
rf two brays to the greatest and most akilfiil bniyer in the world;
yonr Iones are rich, yonr time cwrroet, tout notes well sustfüneí
1 odencea ahmpt and beantíful ; in slioit, I own myself Tan-

S88 iM»t Qinion.

qnishei], ftnd yield to you Üie palm in this rare tftlent,' "Trolyi
answered the ass owner, ' I shall value and esteem myself the more
henceforth, since I am not ndtbont some endowment. It is tme, I
fancy that I brayed indifferently well, yet never flattered myself that
I excelled so much as you are pleased to say.' ' I tell yon,' answered
the secood, 'there are rare abilities often lost to the world, and they
are ill-bestowed on those who know not how to employ them to advan-
tage.' 'Right, brother,' quotii the owner, 'though, except in cases
like the present, onrs may not turu to much acoount; and even, ia
this business. Heaven grant it may prove of service.'

"This sain, they separated again, to resame their braying; and
each time were deceived as before, and met ^ain, tiU Üiey at length
agreed, as a si[¡nial, to distinguish their own voices from that of the
MS, that they should bray twice together, one immediately after tha
other. Thns,doublÍQgtheirbrayingB, they made the tour of the vhoie
mountain, without having any answer from the stray asa, not even by
signs. How, indeed, could the poor creature answer, whom at last
they found in a thicket, half devoured bv wolves P On seeing the
body, the owner said, ' Truly, I wondered at bis silence ; for, had ho
not Deen dead, he certainly «ould have answered us, or he were no
true ass ; nevertheless, neiglibour, though I have found him dead, my
tronbleintlie search has been well repaid in Listenin2 to your eiqusita
brayiar.* ' It is in good hands, friend,' answered the other ; ' for, if
the abbot sings well, the novice comes not fai behind him.'

" HerenpOD they relumed home hoarse and disconsolate, and UM
their friends and neighboun all that had happened to tbem in tiwir
search after the ass : each of them extolling toe other for his excel-
lence in braving. The story spread all over the adjacent villages, and
the devil, who sleeps not, as he ioves to sow discord wherever be can.
raising a bustle in tlie wind, and mischief out of nothing, so ordered
it that all the neighbouring villagers, at the sight of any of our towns-
people, would immediately begin to bray, as it wer^ hitting us in the
teein with the notable talent of our aldermen. The hctja fell to it,
which was Ihe same as falling into the hands and mouths of a legion
of devils : end thos braying spread far and wide, insomuch that tha
natives of the town of Bray are as well known and distinguished as
the negroes ore from whito men. And this unhappy jeat has betat
carried so far that our people have often sallied out m arms a^ninst
tbeir scoffers, and given them battle ; neither king nor rook, nor fear
nor shamo.beingabletori'strain tijem, To-niorroNv, 1 bebeve, or next
dav, those uf our town will take the lield airainst thcpeopleof antib»
village about two leagues from us, bemg one of those which perseaut«
us most : and I have Drought the lances and halberds which you saw,
that we may be well i>iepareil for ihcm. Now these are Ibe wmdeis
1 promised you ; and if you do not think them such, 1 have no better
for you.'.' And here the honest man ended his story.

At this juncture a man entered Ihe inn, clad from head to foot in
chamois -skin, hose, doublet, and breeches,'and calling with a loud voice,
"Master Host, have sou any lodeimtf for liere come the divining
ape aud Ihe puppct-sbow of 'Meliseiidra's deliverance.'" "What
Master Peter!" quoth Ihe innkeeper, *' Body of me! then we shall
have a rare nif ht of it." This same Master Peter, it should bo
observed, had his left eye, and almost half his cheek, covered with a
patch of green taffeta, a sign that something was wrong on that sida

A.OOgIC

THE WOMDZSPCI. in. 189

of his face. "Weloome. Mister Peter," contÍDoed the Itmdlord»
"where is the ape and the puppet^howP I do not see ihem."
" They are hard by," auswerea the man in leather ; " I came beibrft^
to see if we could find lodíjing here." "I would tnrn out tlie duke of
Alva himticlf to make room for Master Peter," answered tha inn-
keeper— "let the ape and the puppets come; for there are guests this
erening in the inn who will be good cnstomer» to you, I warrant."
" Be it BO, ia God's name," answered he of tbe patch ; " and 1 will
lowOT the priee. and reckon myself well paid with only bearing rr"

friee. and reckon myself well paid with only bearing mr
shnll now i^ beck and brim^ on the cart with B17 apa ana

' f kj.i, 1.. ; — "■'■-*-'■• hastened away.

oooceming thia Master

pets;" forwhich purpose be immediatcivhasteoed away.
"o Quixote now iniiuired of the landlord — — ■ — ''-■

Peter. He is," said the landlord, '
has been some time nist travelling ah

the delivennoe of Meliseodra by the famous Don Gayferos:

the best stories and the best performuice Hiat has been seen for man;
s day. He has also an ape whose talents so beyond all other apes,
utd even tlioee of men ; for if a question he put to him be listens
■ttentiTely, then leaps upon bis master's shoulders, and putting his
noutb to his ear, whispers the answer to the question he has r>eea
asked, which Master Peter repeals alond. He can tell both wliat ia
to come and what is past, and tbouch in foretelling things to come ho
does not always hit the mark exaclly, jet tor the most part he is not
M mncb out ; so that we are inclined to believe the devil must he in
him. His fee is two reals for everv question the ape answers, or his
master answers for hbn^hicb is all the same ; so that Master Peter
is tbou^t to he rich. He is a rare fellow, too, and hvcs the merriest
Kfe in the world ; talka more tiian six, ana drinks more than a dozei^
üd BÜ by the belp of his tongue, bis ape, and his puppets."

B)? this time Master Peter nad returned with his cart, in which ha
tamed his puppets, and also his ape, which was large and without %
tail, with posteriors as bare as felt, and a countenance most ugly.
Son Quixote immediately bc^n to question him, saying, "Signor
diviner, pray tell me what hsb do we catch, and what will be out
fortune ? See, here are my two reals," bidding Sancho to ^ve then
to Master Peter, who, answering for the ape, said, "My ape, signor,
iriyes no reply, nor information regarding the future : he knows some*
vbiug of tbe past, and a little of the present." " Bodikins," quoth
Sancho, " I would not give a brass farthing to be told what has bap-
paned tome: for who can tell that better than myself ; and lam not
moh a fool as to pay for hearing wliat I already know. But since
be knows what is now passing, here are my two reals—and now, good
tna^er ape, tell me what my wife Teresa is doing at this moment — I
say, what is she busied about ? " Master Peter would not take ttie
money, saying, " I will not be paid beforehand, nor take your reward
before the service is performed." Then giving with his right hand
two or three claps upon his left shoulder, at one spring the ape
inmped upon it, and laying its mouth to his ear, chattered and grated
nis teeth. Having made these grimaces for the space of a credo, at
another skip down it jumped on the ground, and straightway Master
PetOT ran aad threw himself on his knees before Don Quiiott and
Nnbracinif hb legs.said, "These le^ I embrace, jnst as I would embrace
the two pillars of Hercules, O illustrious reviver of the long-forgotten
ord(T of cbivaliy ! 0,Devei-sufficientlyestolledk?iight,DonQnixata
A.OOgIC

S90 DOM qinzon.

déla Manola! Thou reviver of drooping lie»ri^ the prop and st»^
•f tlie faUing, the raiser of the fallen, the staff and comfort to tH trbo
no nnfortuuate 1"

Don Ouiiote vraa thanderstmck, Sancho confounded, the scholar
«urprisea, — in short, the page, tiio brajinjf-inan, tlie iunteeper, ttod
ever; one present, were estouished at this haraimie of tbe puppet-
player, who proceded, sayiap, " And thoiL 0 pood Sancho Pama, tha
best squire to the best knight in tbe world, rejoice, for thy good wife
Tercaa is well, and at this instant is dressing a pound of flax. More-
over, by her left side stands a broken- mouthed pitcher, which holds a,
very pretty scantling of wine, with which ever and anon she cheera
her spirits at her work." Egad, I verily believe it!" answered
SanolH). " for she is a blessed one ; and, were she not a Uttle jealous,
I would not swap her for tbe giantess Audandona, who, in my master's

opinion, was a b '"■ '"" '- ''- — "■ — *"

I wanant, is on
whistle for it."

" VVeU," quoth Don Quiiot^ " he who rends and travels much, sees
■nd learns much. What testimony but that of inr own eyes could
have persuaded me that there are apea in the world which have tbe
power of divmatioQ F Ye:!, I am indeed Don Quixote de la Manch^
S3 this good animal has decUred, though he has rather exa^eratcd
in regard to my merits; but, whatever I may be, I thank Heaven for
endowing me with a tender and compassionate heart, mclincd to do
xood to all, and harm to none." " If I had money, said the page,

1 would ask maater ape what is to befal me in my mtcnded expedi-
tion." To which Master Peter, who had now risen from Don Quixote's
feet, answered, " I have already told you tbat this httlc b¿st eivos
no answers concemimf things to come ; otherwise, your being wiliiout
money should have been no hindrance: for to serve Signer Bon
Quixote here present I willingly give up alt views of profit. And
now, as in duty boond to give pleasure, I intend to put my puppet-
show in order, and entertain all the company in the inn gratis. ' The

innkeeper rejoiced at hearing this, and pointed out a oonvenient place
for setting up the show— wbicli was done in an instant.

Don Quixote was not entirely satisfied with tbe ape's divination^
thinking it very improbable tliat such a creature should, of itself,
know anything either of future or past : therefore, whilst Master
Peter was preparing his show, he drew Sancho aside to a corner of
tbe stable, where, in a low voice, he said to him, " I have been con-
sidering, Sancho, the strange power of this ape, and am convtoced
that Master Peter, bis owner, must have made a tacit or express pact
with tlie devil." "Nay," quoth Sancho, "if the pack be expreas
from the devil, it must needs be a very sooty pack : Ijut what advan-
twB would it be to this same Master Peter to have such a pack F"
"Thou dost not comprehend me, Sancho," said Don Quixote: "I
only mean that he must certainly have made some agreemeut with the
devil to infuse this power into the ape, whereby he gains much worldly
wealth, and in return for the favour, he gives up his soul, which is the
chief aim uf that mreut enemy of mankind. What induces me to this
beiitf is finding that the ape answers oidy questions relative to thin^
past or present, which is exactly what is known by the devil, who
knows nothing of the future except by conjecture^ wherein be must
be often mistaken; for it is the preioEative of God alone truly to

, , . .A.OOgIC

HIB ASTXKTITBX IX THE OAVZ DISPUTEII. 391

oomiseheiul all tiling ; to Him uothinx ta past or future, erervthing
i> pretent. ThU bemg Uie faoL it is plain ibe ape ia inspired bj the
devil : and I nuurvel much he has not been questioned oj onr hulf
Ipqaiaition, and eiamincd br torture till he acknowledges the autbo-
rit^ under which lie acts. It is certain that this ape is no astrologer :
neither he nui Iiis master know huw to mi»; one of those Gj^urcs called
judical, lutltougti Duw so much in fasbiou that there is scarce!; a maid-
servant, page, or labouring mechanic, vho dues not pretend to raise a
figure, and draw conclusions from the stars as if it were no more than
k tiick at cards ; thus degrading, hi ignorance and imposture, a
wieuce no less wonderful toan true. I know a lady who asked one
of these pretenders whether her little lap-doj would Dreed, and, if so,
vhat would be the number and colour of its oSíi]irin2. To which,
master astrologer, after reusing hb figure, answered that the bitch
would certainly have three whelps, one preen, one carnation, and tbe
otber mottled. It happened tftot tbe bitch died some two days after,
of a «nrfeit ; yet was master Bgnre-roiaer still accounted, like the rest
of bis brethren, an infallible astrologer."

"But for all that," qnoth Sancho, "'I should like your worship to
desire Master Peter to ask his ape whether all that was true which
Tou toLi about the cave of Montesinos ; because, for my own part,
beggiiiK your worship's pardon, I take it to bo all fibs and nonsense.
or at le^t only a dream." " Thou mayst think what thou wilt,
answered Don Quixote: "however, I will do as thou advisest,
although I feel some scruples on the subject."

Here they were interrupted by Master Peter, who came to inform
Don Quixote that the show was readv, and lo request he would eome
to see it, assuring him that he would find it worthy of his attention.
The knight told him that he had a question to put to the ape first, as
he desired to be informed by it whether the things which hopjiencd to
him in the cave of Montesinos were realities, or only sleeping fnncies ;
though be had a suspicion himself that they were a mixture of both.
Master Peter immediately brought his ape, and phiclng him before
Don Quixote and Saneho. said. Look you, master ape. this worthy
knight would know whetlier certain thimrs which befel him in the
cave of Montesinos were real or visionary. Then making the osnol
signal, the ape leaped upon his left shoulder, and. after seeming to
wuiaper in his ear. Master Peter said, " The ape tells me that some of
the things your worship saw, or which befel you in the said cave, are
not true, and some probable ¡ which is all be now knows concerning
this matter— for his virtue has jnst left him ; but if your worship
desires to hear more, on Friday next, when bis faculty will return, he
will answer to your heart's content. "There now," quoth Sancho,
"did I not say you would never make me believe all yon told us about
that same cave r — no, nor half of it." " That will hereafter appear,"
answered Don Quixote j " for time brings all things to hght, thouni
bidden within the bowels of the earth ; and now we will drop the snb-
ject for the present, and see the pnppet-play, for I am of opinion there
mnst be some novelty in it." "Some!" exclaimed Master Peler:
"sixty thousand novelties shall you see in this play of mine! I
assure you, Signor Don Quixote, it is one of the rarest sights that the
world affiirda this day ; Operibu» erediit ei noit nerbit: soUet na to wf^k,
for it grows late, and we have a great deal to do, to say, and to
dtow."

A.OOgIC

Don Qahote and Sancho complied with Ua reqiiest, taA repaired
to tlie place where the show was set out, filled m every part with
small wax candles, so that it made a gay and brílliaot appearauce.
Mast«T Peler, who was to ninnage the figures, placed himself behind
theshow, and in the front of the BCCQC stood bis boT, whose oSoeit wis
to relate the stor; and eipoond the mvBtery of toe piece; balding &
wand in his hand to point to the several figures as they entered.

All the people of the inn being fixed, some stanmns oppoiñte to
tbe show, and Don Quixote, Sancho, the page, and the scdoLbt, seated
in the bÚA phices, Ine young inteipreter began to say what will be

CHAPTEIR XXTL

ftim behind the s

drums and trumpets, and discharges of artillery. These flounsbes
being over, the boy raised his voice and said, " Gentlemen, we here
present yon with a true story, taken out of the Trench ehroniclea and
Spanish ballads, which are in everybody's mouth, and sung by Ibe
hoys about the streets. It tells you bow Don Gsyferos delivers his
spouse Melisendra, who was imprisoned by the Moors, in the city of
Sansuenna, now called Saragossa; and there you may see hov Don
Gayferos is playing at tables, according to the baltad, —

That personage whom yon see with a crown on hia head and a sceptre
in his bands is the emperor Charlemagne, the fair Melisendrs's
reputed father, vrbo, vexed at the idleness and negligence of his son-
in-law, comes forth to chide him ; and pray mark with what passion
and vehemence he rates him — one would thmV he had a mind to giva
him half a dozen raps over the pate with his sceptre; indeed tliere
are some authors who say he actually pave tliem, and sound ones too,
and, after having laid it on roundly about the injury his honour sus-
tained in not deliveriog his spouse, it is reported thid he made use of
these very words — ' I have said enough— look to it.' Pr»y observe,
gentlemen, how the emperor turns his DBck, and leaves Don Gayferos
in a fret.

" See him now in a rage, tossing the table-board one way, and
pieces another! Now calling hastily for his armonr, and now askinv
Don Orlando, his oousiu, to lend him his sword Darindans, which
Don Orlando refuses, though he offers to hew him company in his
perilous undertaking; but the furious knight will not accept of his

s

TBB PUim-fiHOT. 383

help, taTÍDg that lie is &ble alone to deliver his spanBc, thoogb she
-were tbiust dovn to tJie centre of the earth. Hereupon he goes out
to arm himself, in order to Bet forward immediately. Nov, gentle-
men, tnm your eyes towards that tower which appears yonder, which
you are to suppose to be one of the Moorish towers of Saragíissa,
now ctklled the Aljaferia; and that lady in a Moorish bnbit, who
agpeais in the balcony is the peerless Mchsendia, who. from that
window has cast mnny a wistful look towards the road that leads to
france, and soothed her captivity by thinking of the city of Paris and
her dear husband. Now t^hold a strange incident, the like perhaps
yon never heard of before. Do you not see that Moor stealing along
softly, and how, step by step, with his finger on his month, he comes
behind Melisendra ? Hear what a smack ne gives on ber sweet lips,
and see how she spits and wipes her mouth with her white smock-
sleeves, and how sne frets, and tears her beauteous hair Irom pure
vexation !— as if that was to bUme for the indignity. Observe, also,
the grave Moor who stands in that open gallerv— he is Marsilins,
king of Sansnenna, who seeing the insolence of the Moor, though he
is a kinsman, and a great favonritc, orders him to be seized immedi-
ately, and two hundred stripes given him, and to be led through the
irincipal streets of the city, with criers before, to proclaim his crime,
lollowed by the public whippers with their rods ' andsee now how
all this is pnt in execution, almost as soon as the fault is committed;
for among the Moors there areno dtatioos, nor indictments, nor
delays of the bw as amoiw us."

"Boy. boy," said Don Cjuiiote, "on with your atorv in a straight
line, ana leave vour curves and transversals : I can tell you there is
often much need of formal process and deliberate trial to come at the

Master Peter also, from behind, said, "None of your flourishes,
boy, but do what the gentleman bids you, and then yon cannot be
wrong i sing your song plainly and meddle not with counterpoint^
for thev will only put yoaout. "Very well," quoth the boyj and
proceeded, saying ; —

" The ^ore you see there on horseback, muffled up in a Gascoigne
cloak, is Don Gayferos himself whom his lady (after being revenged
on the impertinence of the Moor) sees from the battlements of the
tower, and, t^ing him for a stranger, holds that discourse with him
which is recordeain the ballad: —

If towards France your oonrBB yon bmd.
Let me entreat yen, gentle friaod,
Hnka diligent inquiry Uiere
For Qaylaniii, my hüstmad dear.

The rest I omit, because tentrth begets loathing. It is sufficient that
Hon Gayferos mokes himself known to her. as you may perceive by
the signs of joy she discovers, and especially now that you see how
nimbly she lets herself down from the haloonv, to get on hoKeback
behind her loving spouse. But alas, poor lady I the border of her
under-petticoat has caught one of the iron rails of the balcony, and
tiiere she hangs danglingin the air, without being able to _reBch the
ground. But see how Heaveu is merciful and sends relief m the
greatest distress 1 Toi now ccanes Don Gayferos, and, without carmg

A.OOgIC

for the lichneaa of lier petticoat, see bav he lays hold of her, taA.
tearing her from the hooks, hrings her at once to the grouii^ tnd
then, at a spring, sets her beliiod him dd the crupper, astride like a
man, bidding her bold verr fast, and clup her arms about him till
the; cross and meet over nts breast, tbot she may not fall; because
the lady Melisendra vas not accostomed to that wa; of ridinf.

" Not, gcDtlemen, observe: hear bow Uie horse neighs and
shows hov proud be is of tlie bortheu of bis valiant master and his
fair mistress. See how the^ now wheel about, and, iuming their
backs upon the city, scamper away merrily and joyfully to Paris.
Peace he with ye, 0 ye matchless pair of faithful loTera I Safe and
sound may you reach your desbred country, without impediment,
accident, or ul-lnck on your journey ! May you live as long as Nestor,
among- friends and relatione rejoicing in yonr happiness, and "

"¡Stay, atay, boTj" said Master Peter, "none of yonr flights, I
beseech you : foe affectation is the deviL" The boy, making no repy,
went on with his story,

" Now, sin," said he, " quickly as this was done, idle and evO e;e^
that pry mto evu^hiiú, are not wanting to mark the descent ana
mounting of the fair Meiisendra, and to give notice to King Msrsilius
who immediately ordered an alarm to be sounded ; and now observe
the hurry and tumult which follow ! Sec how tlie whole city shakes
with the ringing of bells in the steeples of the moaiiues "

"Not so."qnoth Don. Quixote, Master Peter is very muchont aa
to tberinpngothelK which were not used by the Moors, but ketlle-
drums and a kind of dulcimer, like our waits; and, therefore, to
iutrodncG the riaeing of bells in Sansuenna is a gross absurdity."

Upon which. Master Peter left off ringing, and said: " SignorBoa

Suixote, if you stand upoa these trifled've shall never please you ¡
I not he so severe a critic. Have we not thousands of comedies
fuQ of such mistiikes and blunders, and yet are tiiey not everywhere
listened to, not only with applause, b<¿ admiration F— Go on, bo^,
and let these folks talk : for, so that my bags are filled, I oare not if
there be as many absurdities as there are motes in the sun." " You
are in the right," quoth Doc Quixote ; and the hoy piooeeded :

" See, gentlemen, the squadrons of gbttering cavalry that now msh
out of the city, in p^r^uit of the two Catholic ¡overs ! How manr
trumpets soond, bow many dulcimers play, and how many druios aua
kettle-drums rattle I Alack. I fear the fugitives will be overtaken
and brou°:bt back tied to their own horse's toil, which would be a
lamentable spectacle."

Don Quixote, roused at the din, and seeing such a number of
Moors, thought it incumbent on him to snccour the flying pair : and,
rising up, said in a loud voice, " It shall never be siud while I live
that I suffered such a wrung to be committed against so famous a
knight and so daring a lover as Don Gayferos. Hold, base-born
tabble! — follow him not^ or expect to feel the fury of m;
tesentmeut ! "

'Twos no sooner said than done ; be unsheathed his sword, and, at
one spring, he planted himself close to tiie show, and with the utmost
fury began to rain hacks and slashes on the Moorish puppet^ over-
throwing some, and beheading others, laming this, and demoushiug
that ; and among other mighty strokes one fell with mortal force in
>uch a direction thot^ had not Master Peter dexterously slipped aaidc^
, , . .A.OOgIC

HIS DESTRttCnOS Dt TU rCFFEtS. 8QS

he would bare taken off tiis bead as clennas if it had been made of
suxir-pute.

Hold, Signor Don Quixote !"oried out the shownuiQ, "hold, for

pily'a sake i—these are not real Moors that jou are cutting and destro;-
mic, but puppets oF pasteboard. Thinkof what you are doing; siiutet
that I am ! joa will ruin me for ever," These remonstraiices vers
lost upon the eiaspecated knight, who still laid about h¿n, showeriM
down ajid redoubling his blows, fore-stroke and baok-stroke, with suc£
fury, that in less than the saying of two credos he demolished the
whole machine, hacking to pieces all the tacklmg and Sgnres. King
Marsilius was in a grievous condition, and the Emperor Charte-
magnu'B head, as well as crown, olefC in twain ! The whole audieaca
Tas in a consternation ; the ape flew lo the top of the house, tbe
scholar and the ^am were panic-stmek. and Sancno trembled eioeed-
iiiglf; fur, as he afterwards declared when the etonn was over, he had
oerer seea liis master in such a race before.

After this chastisement of the Moors, and the general destruction
which accompanied it, Don Quixote's ftuy b^an to abate, and lie
calmly said, I wish all thosewero at this moment present who obsti-
nately refuse to beooDvinoed of the ioúnitc benefit that km^hls-enaut
are to tbe world : for. bad 1 not been fortunately at liand, what would
have become of good Don Gavieros and the lair MelJsendraf No
doubt these inñdel áags, would have ovcrtokea them by this time, and
treated them with their wonted cruelty.— Long life icnight-erranb'y.
above all things in the worhl 1 " " In Heaven s name let it hve, aaa
let me die ! " replied Master Peter, in « dobrous tone, " for anoh ie
my wretched fate that I can say with King Uodertgo, ' Yesterday I
was a sovereign of Spain, and to-day I have not a foot of hmd to call
my own.' It is not half an hoar ago, nor scarcely half a mmute, since
I was master of kings and emperoin, my stalls fidl (á horses, and my
trunks and sacks full of fine tbinga; now, I am destitute and wreUihet^
poor and a beggar ; and to ag^^avate my grief, I have lost my ape,
who, in truth, will make me sweat for it before I catch him again ;
and all this through the rash lury of this doughty knight, who is said
to protect orphans^ redress wrongs, and do other charitable deeds;
but Heaven be praised; he has failed in all these ^ood offices towards
mv wretched sen. Well may he be called the Knight of the Sorrow-
ful Figore, for, alas ! 1 am undone for ever by the sorrowful disG^re-
ment I see before me."

Sancho Panza was moved to compaasioa by Master Peter's lament-
ations, and said to him, " Come, do not weep. Master Peter i for it
breaks my heart to see you grieve and take on so. I can assure you
my master Don Quixote is too catholic and sorupulous a Christian to
let any poor man come to loss by him : when be Qnds out that he has
done yon wrong he will certainly make you amends with interest."
"Tnify,"said Master Peter, "if his worship would but make good
part of the damage he has done mc I should be satisfied, and he would
Bcouit his conscience : for he that takes from his neighbour, and does
not make restitution, can never be saved, that's certain." " I allow
it," said Don Quiiote; "but as vet I am not aware that I have any-
thing of yours. Master Peter," How ! " answered Peter ; " see the
rehcs that lie on the hard and barren ground ! How were they s<»t.
tered and winihilated but by the invincibie force of your powerful
wm? To whom did their bodies belong but to mer Uow did I
A.OOgIC

89o nos QinxoTB.

muntain mysdf but by them?" "Here," said Son Qniiot^v "ú s
fresh CDufirmatíon of what I tiare often thought, and can now no
bneer doubt, that those enchanters who persecute me ore contiuuftUj
leading me into error hy first albn-big me to see things as they really
are, and then transforming them to my ej^ea into wliateier shape they

e' tase. I protest to you, gentlemen, that the spectacle ve have ¡vet
held seemed to me a real occurrence, and I doubted not the idenjity
of Meltsendra, Don Gayferos, MLirsiUus, and Charlemagne. I was
therefore moved with indignation at what I conceived to be injustice,
and, in compliance with the duty of my profession as a knight-ertantl
1 wished to assist and succour the fugitives ; and with this ^ood
intention I did what you have witnessW. If I have been dectived
and tbinge have fallen out unhappily, it is not I wbo am to blame, hot
my wicked persecutora, nevertheless, though this errorof iBÍnej>n>-,
cceded not from malice, yet I will condemn myself in costs — oonsido'.
Master Peter, your demand for the damaged figures, and I will
pav it you down in cmreot and lawful motiey of Castile."

master Peter made him a low bow, saying, " I expected no leas from
the unexampled Christianity of the valorous Don Quixote de U
Mancha, the true protector of all needy and distressed wanderers, and
let master innkeeper and the great Sancho be umpires and appraisers
between your worship and me, of what tho demohahed figures are, or
mkht be, worth."

The innkeeper and Sancho consented, whereupon Master Peter,
taking up JIarailius, tíng of Saragossa, without a head, " You see,
said he, how impossible it ¡s to restore this tíng to his former statt^
uid therefore I tinnk, with submission to better judgment, that yoa
must award me for his death and destruction four reals and a half."
" Proceed," quoth Don Quiiote. " Then for this gi^h from top to
bottom," continued Master Peter, taking up the Emperor Charle-
magne. "I think five reab and a ouartillo would not be loo much."
"Nor too little," quoth 3aucho. Nor yet loo much," added the inn-
keeper; "but split the dilTerenceand set him down five real»." "Give
bim the whole of his demand," iiuotb Don Quiiote ; "fora quartillo
more or less is immaterial on this disastrous occasion : but, be qnidc;
Master Peter, for supper-time approaches, and I fee! symptoms of
hunger." " Por this figure," nuoth Master Peter, " wanting a nose
and an ey^ which is the fair Melisendra, I must have and can abate
nothing of two reals and twelve maravedia," "Nay," said Don
Quixote, " the devil is in it if Melisendra, with her husband, be not
by this time, at least, upon the borders of Ptanoe ; for the horse they
rode seemed to me to fiy rather than gallop; and therefore do not pre-
tend to sell me a cat for a coney, showing me here Meiisendra without
a nose, whereas at this very instant, the happy pair are probably
Bolaciag themselves at their ease, far out of the r«aoh of their enemies.
Heaven help every oue to what is their just due: nrooeed Master
Peter, but let us have phun dealing." Master Peter Ending liat Don
Quixote began to waver, and was retumini; to his old theme, and not
CDoosing that he should escape, he changed his ground and said, "No,
now I recollect, this cannot be Melisendra, but one of her waiting-
maids, and so with sixty maravedís 1 shall be content and well euou¿a
paid."

Thus he went on, setting his price upon the dead and wounded,
which the arbitrators moderated to the satisfactioa of both parties [

A.OOgIC

BISTOKT OV lUBTBK FETBB. 89f

and the whole amonnUd to forty reals and three quartillos; which
Sancho having paid down. Master Peter demanded two reata more for
the trouble he should haTe in catching his ape. " Gire him the two
reals, Sancho," said Don Quiiote ; " and now would I iire two him-
dred more to be assured that the ladv Melisendra ana Signor Bon
Garferos are at this time in France and amonp their friends." " No-
body can tell ns that hettertban m; ape," said Master Peter ; "but
the devil himself cannot catch him now ; though, perhaps, either his
love for me, or hnnger, will force him to letum at night. However,
to-morrow is a new day, and we shall then see each other a
The ■ ■ - ■ - - ■

ti^thi . .. „ __,,... , ^

whose liberaht; was boundless. The man who carried the lances ai
halberte left the inn before daybreak, and after the son had risen the
scholar and the page came to take leave of Don Quixote ; the fonner
to return home, and the latter to pursue bis intended journey : Bon
Qniiole having given him a dozen reals to assist in defraying his
expenses. Master Peter had no mind for any fnrther intercourse with
Don Quixote, whom he knew perfectly well, and therefore he also
«ose before the sun, and, collecting the fragments of bis show, he set
off with hia ape in quest of adventures of his own ; while the inn-
keeper, who was not so well acquainted with Don Quiiote, waa
equally sni^rised at his madness and liberality. In short, Simcho, hf
tmer of his master, paid bim wetL and about eight in tne mormng,
having taken leave of him, they left the inn and proceeded on their
jonniey, where we will leave them, to relate other things necessuy to
the eiaoidation of this famous history.

CHAPTER XXVn.

Whtrtin it Ttlaiid wAe Miutrr Ptttr and Ml apt rtri ; wilA Don Quimli'l
iU-raam *» Ut brayi'xg adtmt*n, *kiÁ Urainattd neiAtr at M
WHinf nor intendtd.

Cn> Eauetb, the author of this great work, begins the present
chapter with these words, " I swear as a catholic ChristiaiL" On
which his translator observes that Cid Hamete's swearing as a catho-
lic Cliristian. sJlhough he was a Moor, meant ouly that as a catholic
Christian, when he swears, utters ootiiing but the troth, so he, with
eauai veracity, will set down nothing iu writing; of Don Quixote but
wiiat is strictly tnje ; especially in the account that is now to be given
of the person hitherto called blaster Peter, and of the divining ape,
whose answers freated such amazement throughout all that part of
the country. He says, then, tliat whoever has read the former part
of this hisbary mnst well remember Gines de Pnasamonte, who among
other galley-slaves was liberated by Don Quixote iu the Siciru
Morena;— a benefit for which he was but ill requited by that mis-
chievous and disorderly crew. This Gines de I'assaiuonle. whom
Don Quiiote called Ginesillo de Parapiila, was the person who stole
gancho Fansa's Dapple ^ and the time and manner of that theft not

sos son (jDixon.

having been inserted in tlie fonnei part of this faiatoiy, thimigl) Uie
neglect of the printers, man; have ascribed the onuission to want of
memoir in the anthor. But in foct Gines stole the animal wh3e
Sancho Fania was asleep upon his back, b/ the same artifice which
Bmnello practised when ne carried off Sacripaute's horse from between
his leja, ai the aiese of Albraea ; althongh Sancho afterwards recovered
his IJuiipie, as hath already been related.

This Gines then (whose rorueries and crimes were so nnmerons and
flagrant as to fill a large voiumc, vhich he compiled himself), being
afraid of falling into the hands of justice, passed over into the kingdom
of Armgon, and there, after coverini; his left e;e, he set up the trade
of showman, in which, as well as tlie art of legerdemain, he was a
skilful practitioner. From a party of Ciiriatiana JQSt redeemed from
slavery, whom he chanced to meet with, he purchased his ape, which
he forthwith instructed to leap npon his shoulder and mutter in his
ear, as before described. Thns prepared, he commenced his aToca-
tion -J and his practice was, before he entered say town, to make
inquiries in the neighbourhood concerning its inhabitants and passing
evenly, and, bearing them carefully in hu memory, he first euibited
his show, which represented sometimes one story and sometime*
another, but all plesMnt, gay, and popular. After this he propounded .
to his auditor tJie tare talents of nis ^e, assuring them of his know-
ledge of the pest and present, at the same time confessing his igno-
rance of the niture. Though liis regular fee was two reals, he was
•IwavB disposed to accommodate his customers; and it he fonnd

¡leople unwilling to' pay the expense of his oracle, he BOmetimes poured
orth bis knowledge gratuitously, which gained bun unspe^able credit
and numerous followers. Even when perfectly ignorant of the queries
proposed to him, he contrived so to adapt his answers, that aa people
were seldom troublesome in their scmptea, be was able to deceive all,
and fill his pockets.

No sooner bad Master Pefer Passamonte entered the inn than he
recognised the knight and squire, and therefore had no difficulty
in eiciting their astonishment : but the adventure would have coat
him dear nad he not been so mcky as to elude tbe sword of Don
Quixote, when he sliced off the head of King Maralina and demolished
his cavalry, as rdsAed in the foregoing cnapter. This may snffioe
concerning Master Peter and his ape.

Let us now return to our illnstriois knight of La Mancha, who,
after qnittiner the inn, determined to visit the banks of the river Ehro
and the neianbouring country : finding that he would have time suf-
ficient for that purpose before the toumamenia at Saragosxa began.
"With this intention he pursued his joumev, and travelled two days
without encountering anvthing worthrecording, till, on the third day,
as ha was ascending a hill, he neard a distant sound of drams, tnun-
pets, and other martial instruments, which at first he imagmed to
proceed from a body of mihtary on the march ; and, spurring Bori-
nante. he ascended a rising gmund, whenoe he perceived, as be
thought, in the valley beneath, above two hundred men, umed with
varions weapons, as spears, cross-bows, partisans, halberds, and spike^
with some flre^irms. He then deacended, and advanced so near the
troop, that he oould distinguish their banners with the devices they
bore : especially one upon a banner or pennant of white satin, on
which an ass was painted to the life, of the small Sardinian bñe^

r , A.OO'^IC

HIS ADSBIBS TD THX XIUTnO TOTXSlfXN.

Train thb motto Bon Quixote craiolnded that time were tbe iába-
bitant* of the brayiiiR town, vhioh apinian he commnnicatcd to
Sandio, rmd told hiin also what was written on the banner. He like-
wise said that the person «ho had given them an account of this affur,
was mistaken in calling the two bniyere aldermen, since, according
to the mutto, it appeared Ihej were not aldermen, but bailiffs. " That
breaks no squwes, sir," answered Sancho Pwim, " for it might
happen that the aldermen who brayed have in process of time
become bailiffe of their town, and therefore may properly be called
by both titles ; thongh it signifies nothins to the truth of the history
whether they were bailiffs or ahlermen : for one is aa likely to bray aa
the other."

They soon ascertained that it was the derided town sallying forth
to attack another, whi(4) bad ridiculed tbem more than was reasonable
or becomii» in good ndghbonrs. Don Quixot« advanced towards
tíiem, tA the no small concern of Sancho, who nerer had any liking
to meddle in such matters, and he was presentljr snrronndea by the
motley hand, who sopposcd him to be some fnend to their eanse.
Don Quinóte then raising his vizor, with an easy and graoeful deport-
ment, approsobed tbe ass-banner, and all the ohieH of the army
collected around him, being struck with the same astonishment
which the first sight of him usn^ty excited. Don Qniiote, seeing

them gaze so earnestly at him, without being spoken to by any of the
party, took advantage of this silence, and addressed them in the
following manner :-^

" It IS my intention, worthy gentlemeiL to address yon, and I
earnestly entreat yon not to interrupt my disoonreo, unless joa find
it offensive or tiresome ; for, in that case, upon the least sign from
yon, I will ^nt a seal on my hpa and a bridle on my tongne. T^ej
all aesired him to say what he pleased, and promised to hear him witb
attention. With this license, Don Quixote proceeded. "Gentlemen,"
eaid he, " I am a knight-errant ; arms are my exercise and my pro-
fession is that of relieving the distressed, and giving aid to the weak.
I am no atranger to the cause of your agitation, nor to the events
which have provoked your resentment and impelled tod. to arms. I
have therefore often teñected on your ease, and flna that, according
to the laws of duel, yoa are mistaken in thinking youiselves insulted;
for no one person can insnlt a whole dtr. nnless, when treason has
been comnutted within it, not knowing ibe guilty person, he should
accuse the whole body. Of this we have an example in Don Diego
Ordbnnef de Lara, who challenged the whole people of Zamora,
because he did not know that Vellido Dnlfos alone had murdered bis
kiogi and therefore every individual being chajged witb that crime,
^ belonged to the whole to answer and to revenge the imputation.
It is true that Signer Don Diego went somewhat too far, and exceeded
the just limits of challenge ; for certainly it was not necessary to
include in it the dead and the unborn, tbe waters, the breed, and
KTcral othex particulars therein mentioned. But let that pass, for
,, .A.OCglC

400 COK qmoTX.

when diol

then, it is ~.r a

dom, jrorince, or city, it ia clear that there is no reason for jour
marciimg out to take rereiige upon vhat cannot be considered as an
offence worthy of your resentment. It would be a fine business,
truly, if all those towns which, hy the vulgar, are nicknanied from
their tnides, and called the cheesemongers, the coat^rmoosers. the
flslimongers, the soapboilers, and other such appellations,* should be
BO absurd as to think theniselvea insulted, and to seek vengeance
with their swords upon this and every slight provocation I No, no ;
such doings Heaven neither wills nor permits. In well-ordered states,
men are required to nnsheatb their swords and hazard Ifaeir lives and

eroperty upon four different accounts : first, to defend tiie holy
atnolic Faith ; secondly, in self-defence, which is agreeable to nata-
ral and Divine law ; thirdly, in defence of personal hononr, familf,
reputation, and worldly wealth ; foorthly, in obedience to the com-
mands of their sovereign, in a just war; to these may be added aflfA
Í which, indeed, will properly rank with the second) and that is, the
efenoe of our country. These are the nrincipal occasions upon
which an appeal to the sword is justifiable; out to have recourse to
it for trines, and things rather to excite mirth than anger, is equall;
wicked and senseless. Besides, l« take unjust revenge (and no
reven^ can be jnst) is acting in direct opposition to oar holy rehgion,
by which we are enjoined to foi^re our enemies, and do good to
those who hate us—a precept which, though it seems difficult to obey,
vet is it only so to the worlmy-niinded, who have more of the flesh thui
the spirit ; for the Redeemer of mankind, wjiose words conld uetet
deceive, said that bis yoke was easy and his burden light ; and there-
fore be would not require from us what was impossible to be per>
formed. So that, gentlemen, by every law, human and divme,
you are bound to sheathe your swords, and let your resentment

"The devil fetch me," quoth Sancho to himself. " if this master of
mine be not a perfecttniest ; or, if not, he is as lilce one as one egg ia
like another." Don Quixote took breath a little, and perceiving his
anditora were still attuitive, he would have continued nis harangue,
had he not been prevented by the zeal of his squire, who seizea the
opportunity offered him by a pause, to moke a speech in his turn.

Gentlemen," said he, " my master Don Quiiote de la Mancha,
once called the ' Knight of the Sorrowful iigure,' and now the
' Knight ot the Lions,' is a choice scholar, and understands Lstin,
and lalks the vnlgar tongue like auy bachelor of arts ; and in all he
meddles or advises, proceeds like an old soldier; havmg all the laws
and statutes of what is called duelling at his fingers' ends ; and so you
have nothing to do but to foOow his advice, and while yon abide bv
that, let the blame be mine if ever you make a false step. And,
indeed, as you have already been told, it is mighty foolish in yoo to
be offended at hearing anyone bray; wlien I was aboy Í well remem-
ber nobody ever hindered me from braving as often as I pleased ; and
I could do it so rarclj' that all the asses in the town answered me;
;et for oil that was I still the son of my parents, wlio were very honcet

* The cities lo Onlled am Valliidulid, Toledo, Madrid, and prolrablf

í THE BBZTIK PAKT Oí TAWUB. 101

moi^ : tai tkoBoti I tnntt lay & few of the proudest of mj neigh-
oonis enTied me tCe rift, yet I cared nota rush; and, to convince ;ou
tiut I speak the tnUh, do but listea to oie ; for thii ait, like that of
svimmiuf;, once teamed, is never forsotteu.

Then, putting his hands to his nostrils, Ite bejfon to braj so stienu-
onalj that the adjactot raJley s resouoded again ¡ Thereupon a man
who stood near him, supposing tbat he was mocking them, raised his
pole, and gave bim auon a blow that it brougiit the unlucky squire to
the ground. Don Quixote, seeing him so ill-treated, made at the
striker with hi* lanoe, but wi* iostantl; oppoced by so nuui; of his
comrade*, that he saw it was impossible foi him to oe revenged : on
the oontrary, feeliug a shower of stones come thick apon íum, and
•eeini a thousand crossbows presented, and as many guns levelled at
kun, be tumed Rotitumto about, and, as fast as he could sallop, got
out ñrom among them, heuiilf recommending himself to Iléaven, and
pnfing, as he fled, to be delÍTered from so imminent a danger ; at the
same tune expecting, at cvctj step, to be piereed through and through
with bullets, ne went aa drawing his breath at eyerj moment, to trj
whether or not it failed blnu The rustic battalion, however, seeing
bim Üy, were contented to save iJieir ammunition. As for Sancho,
they Áét him again upon his aas, though scarcely recovered from the
blow, and suffered him to follow his matter— not that he hod jKiwer
to guide him, but Dappie, unwuling- to be separated from Rozmaot^
naturally (oUowed his steps. Don Quixote hafiog got to a conñ-
derahle distance, at lengli ventured to look back, and, seeing only
Sancho slowly following he stooped, and waited till he came up.
The anny kept the field tiU mgatUl, when no enemy coming forth
to battle, thej joyfully returned home : and had they known the
pntctice of the ancient Oreeks, they would have erected a trophy in
iLst plaoe.

CHAPTER XXIX

Wh»b the Taliant man flies he must have discovered foul ploy ; nnd
it is then the part of the wise to reserve themselves for a belter occa-
sion. This truth «as verified in Don Quixote, who, not choosing to
expose himself to the fury of an incensed and evü-disposed mtilti-
tude, prudently retired out of their reach, without otu!o recollecting
bis faithful squire, or the perilous situation in which he left Iilm ; nor
did he stop till be got as far off as he deemed sufScicnt for his safety.
Sancho foEowed the track of his master, lianging, as before described,
athwart his asa, and. having reoovered his senses, at length came up
to him ; when^ unable to support himself, he dropped from liis pack.
saddle at Boiinsnte'g feet, overcome with the pam of the bruises and
blows be bad received.

' Don Quixote dismounted to examine the state of Swcho's body :

bnt, finding no bones broken, and the skin whole bom head to foot,

*" n , ,. A.OO^ilC

408 DOH qtnxois.

be said augrilr, " In an evil hour, Sancho, mast thou needs show tiijr
skill in braymg : where didst thou learn that it was proper to name m
halter in the house of a man that was hanged P To thy brayiusniusio

what counterpoint couldst thou expect but that of a cudgd f Betum
thanks to H^ven, Sancho, that, instead of crossing tlif back with ft
eudirel, they did not make the sign of the cross on thee witli a scimi-
tar. " I am not now in a condition t« answer," replied Sancho, " for
nietliinks I speak through my shoulders. Let us mount, sjjd be gone
from this place. As for braving, I will have done mlhit for ever;— hut
not with telling that knignts-emint can fly, and leave their faithful
squires to be beaten to powder in the tnidst of their enemies." " To
retira is not to fly," answered Don Quiiote ; " for thou must know.
Sancho, that the valour which has not prudence for ¡ta basis ¡stennea
rashness, and the successful exploits of the rash are rather to be
ascribed to good fortune than to courage. I coufess 1 did retire, but
not fly : and herein I imitated Hundi7 valiant persons who have
reserved themselves for belter purposes, whereof history furnishes
abundance of examples : but being of no proflt to thee, or pleasure to
m^elf, I shall not now mention them."

By this time Suncho had mounted again, with the assistance of his
master, who likewise got upon Rozinantc, and they proceeded slowly
towards a grove of poplars which they discovered about a quarter of
a league oa, Sancho ever; now and thcu heaving moat profound sighs,
accompanied by dolorous groans: and, when asked the cause of his
distress, he said that, from the nape of his neck ta the lowest point
of his back-bone, he was so bruised and sore that the pain made him
mad. "Doubtless," said Don Quixote, " this pain must have been
caused by the pole with which thcv struck thee, and which, being-
Ion^, extended over the whole of thy back, including all the parts
which now grieve thee so much ; and, had tlie weapon been still
larger, thy pain would have been increased." "Before Heaven,"
quoth SancJio, " your worship has reheved me from a mighty doubt,
and explained it, forsootL, in notable terms ! Body o' me ! was the
cause of my pain so hidden that it was necessary to tell me that 1 felt
pain in all those parts which the pole reached P If my ancles had
ached, then might you have tried to unriddle the cause ; but to flud
out that I am pained because I was beaten is, truly, no great matter.
In faith, master of mine, other men's harms are easily borne; I
descry land more and more every day, and see plainly how little I am
to expect from following your worship ; for, il this time you could
suffer me to be basted, I may reckon upon returning, again and again,
to our old blanketing, and other pranks. My back bcua the mischieT
now, hut next it may fall on my eves. It would be much better foe
me, only that I am a beast, and siiall never in my life do anything
that ¡a right— betler, 1 saj, would it he for me to return home to my
wife and childreo, and strive to maintain and bring them up with tba
little Heaven stuul be pleased to give me, and not be following S9V^
worship through roads without a read, and pathless paths, drmling
ill and eating worse. And as foi sleeping— (rood squire, measure ¿in
seven feet of earth, and, if that he not suflicient, pnthee take as
man.v more and welcome, and stretch out to your heart's content ! I
Blioidd like to sec the first who set on foot knight^rrantr)' burnt to
ashes ; or, at least, the first that would needs be squire to such idiota
as all the knight s^errant of former times must nave been— of the

A.OOgIC

UKCSO'S COKPLAINT. 408

present I sa; notbins, for, toot norship bein^ one of them, I am
boDnd to pajr them respect, and because 1 know that, in re^-ard to
talLiiw uá nnderataiidmg, your woiship knowa a point befoud the
devil himself."

" I would lay a good wager with thee, Sancho," qnotb Don Quixote,
"that now thoa art talking, and without interruption, thou f eeleat no
pain in thy body. Go on, my son, and say all that cones into thr
head, or to thy t^m^e: for, so thou art relicTed from pain, I sboU
take pleasure even m the vexation thy impertinence occasions me —
nay more, if thou has really bo great a desire to return home to thy
wife and children, God forbid I should hinder thee. Thou haat
money of mine in thy bands ; see how long it is since we made this
tbird sally from our town, and bow much thou couldst hare earned
monthly, and par thyself." "When I served Thomas Carrasco,"
replied Sancho, father of the bachelor Sampson Carrasco, whom
your worship Knows fall well, I jfot two dncata a month, besides my
victuals ; with your worship I cannot tell what I may get ; but I am
sure it is greater drudgery to besquire to a knight-errant than servant
to a farmer ; for, if wo work for husbandmen, though we labour bard
in the day, at n^ht we are sore of supper from the pot, and a bed to
sleep on, which is more than I have fonnd since I have been in your
worship 8 service — the scnm of Camacho'a pots eicepted, a^d the
short time we were at the houses of Don Diego and Basilios : all the
rest of the time I have bad no other bed than the hard ^und, and
no other covering than the sky, whether foul or fair ; living upon
scraps of bad bread, and worse cheese, and drinking such water as
diance put in our way."

"Icraifess, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that all thon sayestia
true — how much dost thou think I ought lo iiav thee more tbitn what
thouhadst from Thomas Carrasco F" "I think," quoth Sancho, "if
yonr worship adds two reals a month, I slioold reckon myself weQ
paid. This IS for the wages due for my labour j but as to the promije
' ■ 1 ' •' nraent of an island, ii wouldbe fair

..... . laking thirty in all." "Very well,"

replied Don Quixote, "it is flve-and-lwenty days since we sallied
from our village, and, according to the wages thon hast allotted thy-
self, calculate the proportion and see what I owe thee, and par
thyself, as I said before, with thine own hand." "Body o' me,
quoth Sancho, "your worship is clean out of the reckoning, for,
as to the promised island, we must reckon from the day you pro-
mised me to the present boor." " Uow long tbcn is it since I
promised it to theei" said Don Quixote. "If I remember right,"
answered Sancho, "it is about twenty years and three daj-s, more
or less."

Here Don Qoixote, dapping his forehead with the palm of his hand,
began to laugh heartily, and said, " Why, all my sallies, including the
time 1 sojourned in the Sierra Morena, nave scarcely taken up more
than two months, and dost thou say, Sancho, it is twenty years since
I promised thee an island F I perceive that thou art determined to
Iflv claim to all the money thou hast of mine ; if such be thy wisb,
talte it, and much good raav it do thee ; for to rid myself of so worth-
less a squire I will gladly oe left poor and penn; less. But tell me,
tliou perverter of the souircly ordinances of knighl -errantry ! where
hast thou seen oc read that any squire to knight-enaut e^*cr presumed
S s S r . .. A-OO^^IC

4M MM tffiaaa.

to twrgain with his masttr, and bbv, bo mncb pet month yon must pre
me to seire you ? Latmco, launch out, thou base reptile ! thou hob-
goblin !— for such thou »rt— launch oat, I say, into the ware magtatm
of their histories, and if thou canst find that any squire has ever said,
or thought, as tbou hast dooe^ 1 will give thee leave to nail it on my
forehead, and write fool upon my face in capitals. Turn about the
bridle, or halter, of Dapple, and Ket home ! for not one single step
forther shalt thou go with me. O bread ill-bestowed ! O promise»
ill-placed ! 0 man, that hast more of the beast than of the human
creature ! Now, when I thought of establistini? thee, and in such a
way that, in spite of thy wife, thou shouldst have been styled ' your
lordship, now dost thou leave mef now, when I had just taken a firm
and effectual tesolation to make thee lord of tiie best island in the
world F But, as thou thyself hast ofton said, ' honey is not for the
month of an ass.' An asa thon art, an fus thou wilt continue to be,
and an ass thou wilt die ; for I verilf beliere thou nilt never acquire
even sense enough to know that thou art a beast !"

Sancho looked at his master with a sad aud sorrowful countenance,
all the time Le thus reproached aud rated him ; and when the storm
was passed, with tears m his eyes and in a faint and doleful voice, he
said : — " I confess, dear sir, that to be a complete ass I want nothine
but a tail, and if your warship will be pleased to put me on one, I
shall deem it well placed, and will then serve fou as your Mthfnl ass
all the days I have yet to hve. Pardon me, sir, I entreat you: have
pity on my ignorance, and consider that, if my ton^e runs too rast, it
IS more from folly thau evil-meaning : ' he who errs and mends, himself
to Heaven commends.' " " 1 should have wondered much, Sancho,"
quoth Don Quiiote, "if thy proverbs had been wanting on such an
occasion. Well, I forgive thee, on the promise of thy amendment.
Bud in the hope that henceforth thou mayest prove less craving anil
selfish. I would hope also to see thy mind prepared to wait with
becommg patience the due accomplisnment of my promises, which,
though deferred^ are not on that account the less certain." Sancho
promised compliance, thoi^h, to do it, he should have to draw strength
out of weakness.

They now entered the poplar-giove, and Don Qniioto seated himself
at the foot of an elm, and SaneLo under a beech : — for it is admitted
that such trees are always pro^-ided with feet, but never with hands.
In that situation they passed the night : Sancho suffering from the
pain of bis bruises, and his master indulging his wonted meditations ;
nevertheless they both slept, and in the morning pursued their w»
towards the banks of the iamoua Ehro, where tlut befel them whioA
shall be related in the ensuing chapter.

UignieUb, Google

CHAPIER XXX

OS lié /amov* adrtatuu r¡f U« tt,A«Kt*d hark.

Apter travelliDg leiaurelf (or two Axn, Don Quixote and hi* k)bík
THiobed the banks of ibe river Sbro, and the knif ht experienced mach
pleasure irhile lie oontempUt«d the Teidure of iu margin, the sniooth-
ueu of its current, and the abtiudanoe of its crystal watcra. Cheered
and deliglited witn the soene, a thousand tender reooUectioni rushed
npoa hie mind, and particularly wüat he had witnessed in the cave of
Montesbos ; for although master Peter's ape had pronoooced a part
odI; of those wooders to be true, he rather inclined to beliere the
whole than allow any paii to be doubtful : quite the rererse of Sandio,
«ho held them all to be bise.

Thus mnsizig and sauntering along, the7 obserred a smaH vessel
without tarn or an; kind of tackle, fastened by a rope to the shore.
Don Quixote looked round him on all sides, and, seeing nobody, tie
alighted, and ordered Saneho to do the same, and make fast both their
beasts to the trunk of a poplar or willow that grew b; the side of
the river. On Sancho's reqnesting to know why he was to do »cl
"Thou must know," said Don Quixote, "that tnis Teasel is placed
here expressly for my reception, and in order that I mif ht proceed
Üterein to the succour of some knieht or other person of nigh degree
who is in extreme distress : fur such is the practice of enchanter^ as
we learn in the books of chivalry, when some knight happens to be
involved in a situation of extraoroiniiry peril, from which he can ouljr
be delivered by the hand of another kiught. Then, although distant
from each other two or three thousand leagea, sud even more, they
either auatch him up in a cloud, or, as thus, provide him with a boat,
and in less than the twinkling of an eye convey him tlirough the air.
or over the surfaoe of the oceao, wherever they list, or where his aid
is required. This bark, therefore, 0 Sancho, must be placed here for
that sole puipose, aa certainly as it is now day ¡ haste then, before it
is spent, tie Dapple and Kozinante together, and the hand of Provi-
dence be our guide! for embark I vnlL although holy friars them'
selves should entreat me to desist." 'Since it must be so," said
Sancho, "and that your worship is delermined to be always ninning
into these vasaries, thereisnothuucleft formebut toobey: following
the proverl^ do your master's bidding, and sit down with him at his
table.' But for all that, to discharge m^ conscience, I am bound to
tell your worabip that, to my mind, this same boat belongs to no
enchanter, but to some fisherman on this part of the rirer ; for here,
"' " laid, they catch the best shads in the world."

This caution Sancho ventured to give, while, with mnoh nief of
sout, he was tyinf the cattle, where they were to be left under the
protection of enchanters. Don Quixote told him to be under no oon-

ceniabout forsaking those anima&; for he, by whom they were them-
selvea to be transported to far distant longitudes, would take care
that they should not want food. " I do not undeiBtand youi togi>

¥K DON qtnxoTs.

trades," said Sancho, " nor have I erer heard of such a word in all my
life." " Longitude," replied Don Qiiiioie, " means length ;— but no
wonder thou dost not understand it, for thon art not bound to know-
Latin : though some there are who preiend to know it, and are as

ignorant as thyself." " Now thej are ticdj'' quoth Sancho, " what is
neit to be done?" "What?" answered Don Quixote ; "why.erosa
ourselves and «ci^h anchor— I mean en^Wk^ and cut tiie rope with
which the Tefwel la now tied." Then, leapmfc into it, followed by

is ffltdeaTonnng to get loose, that he mav plunge into the river «nd
foUow ns. O, dearest friends I abide wnere ;ou ore in peace, and

nr theauul freak which is the canse of OUT doleful parting, M qoickly
awed by a repentance that will bring as back again to vonr sweet
ooowanrl'*

Here he be™ to weep so bitterly that Don Qniiote lost all
patience, "Of what art thou afraid, oowardlj wretch!" cried he,
heart of butter I Why weepest thou ! Who pursues, who annojs
thee — sold of a bouse-rat P Of what dost thou want, poor wretch^ m
the very bowels of abnadanceF Peradventurc, thou art trudgu^
barefoot over the Riphean mountains ? No, seated like an archduke,
thon art gently gliding down tbe stream of this churning river, whence
in a short space we shall issne out int« the boandless oceúi, which
doubtless we have already entered, and most have gone at least seven
or eight hundred leagues. If I had but an astrolabe here to take the
elevM^on of the pole, I would tell thee what distance we have gone ;
thongh, if I sin not mnch mistaken, we are already past, or shall pre-
aentív pass, the equinoctial line, which divides and cuts the worli in

anal halves," "And when we come to that line vour worship speaks
," quoth Sancho '' how far shall we have travelled P" "A mighty
distance," replied Don Quixote, " for, of the three hundred and suty
degrees into which the terraqueous globe is divided, according to tbe
system and computation of inxilemy, the greatest of all geogranhers,
we shall at least have travelled one naif when we come to that line.
"By the Lord," qnotb Sancho, "your worship has brought a pretty
fellow to witness, that same Tolmy— how d'ye call him t with hm
ampatation^ to vouch for the truth of what you sav."

Don Quixote smiled at Soncho's blunders, and said, '"Hioa muat
know, Súicho, that one of the signs by which the Spaniards and those
who travel by sea to the East Indies, discover they have passed tbe
line of which! told thee, is that all the vermin upon every man in the
ship die; nor after passing it, is one to be found m the vessel, though
they would give its weight in gold for it; and, therefore. Sancho, pass
thy hand over thy body, and if thou findcst any hvc thior, we shall
have no doubts upon that score, and if not, we shall then know that
we have certainly passed the line," "Not a word of that do I
believe," quoth Sancho; "however, I will do as your worship bids me,
though I know not what occasion there is for muring this experiment,
"~ " " ' " ie with mine own eyes that we have not got five yards from

TEZ TALOSOnS ÁTIICK OK THS COSH-HILLS. 4W

Heaven ve do oot more an ant's pace." "Bttncho," said Don
Quixote, " make the trial I bid thee, and take no further care ; thou
knoirest not what colours are, nor the linea, parallels, zodiacs, eclip-
tics, poles, solfttices, equinocliuls, pknets, sigps, and other poiats and
measures of which the celestial and terrestrial globes are eoniposed,
for, if thou koewest all these thinirs, or but a port uf them, tlioa
wouldst plainly perceive wliat paralleb wc have cut, what siijns we
hate seen, aun what constellations wo have left behind us, and are
just now leavii^. Once more, then, I bid thee feel thyself all over,
and fish ; for 1. for lay part, am of opimon that tboo ait as clean as a
sheet of smoota white paper." Aocordinj^l; Sancho passed his hand
Uffhtly over his left ham, then liftiui; up hia head and looking signiñ-
cantly at his master, he said, " Either the experiment is false, or we
are not yet arnved where four worship sa^s,— ^no, not by many
feaguea." " Why," said Don Qoiiote, "hast thou met with some-
thing then'" Aye, sir, several somethinsrs," replied Sancho, and,
shaking his linKer^ ne washed his wiiole baad m the river, on the sur-
face of which ino boat was trcntly sliding— not moved by the secret
ittflaence of enchantment, but by the current, whídi was then gentle,
and the whole surface smooth and calm.

At this time several com-milla appeared before them in the midst of
the stream, which Don Quixote no sooner espied thwi be exclaimed in
a lond voice, " Beholi Ü Sancho ! aeest thou yon city, castle, or tor-
tress f — there lies some knittht under oppression, or some queen,
infanta, or princess, confined in evil pliant ; to whose relief I am
brought hither." "What the devil of a city, fortress, or castle do j;oa
talk of, sir i' " quoth Sancho ; " do you not see that they are mills
Standing in the river for the Brinding of comF" "Peace. Sancho,"
qnotb Don Quixote; "for though they seem to be mills, they are not
so. How often must I tell thee that enchanters have the power to
transform whatever they please f I do not say that things are totally
changed by them, bat to our eyes they are made to appear so ; whereof
ve have had a woeful proof in the tránafonoatíon of Dulcinea, the sole
refuge of my hopes."

The boat having now got into the current of the river, was carried
on with more celerit]^ thiut before ; and, as it approached the null, the
labourers within, seeing it drifting towards them, and just entering
tJie mill-stream, several of them ran out in haste with long poles to
sUip it ; and, their faces and clothes being all covered with meal-dust,
they hod a ghostly appearance. " Devils of men ! " said they, bawl-
ing aloud, what do von there F Are you mad, or do yon intend to
drown vourselves, or Sc torn to nieces by the wheels?"

"Didlnotteli thee, Sancho ''said Don Qniiote, " that we shonld
oertainly arrive where it would be necessary for me to display the
TaloDT of my arm ? Look, what assassins and holwohlina eume out
to oppose na I See their horrid visages witli which they think to
scare us I Now, rascals, have at yoii '," Then standinj^ up in the
boat, be b^:au to threaten the millers aloud. " Ill-advised scoun-
dreb ! " said he, " set at liberty the person ye keep under oppression
in that castle or fortress of yours, whether he be of high or low
degree ; for I am Don Qaixot« de la Mancha, otherwise called the
I^ght of the Uons, for whom, hy Heaven's high destiny, the liapyy
Rccompliahment of this adventure is reserved.'' So saying, he «rcw
his sword and began to Sourish with it in the air, as if be would smile
, , . .A.OOgIC

the mfllen, nho, not andenUndinK Us metiMes, endesvonred to (top

^ed nude

voutly to , p J

. e agiMj and adroitoess of tLe millen vitli ibeii pdlei, — but not
vithout ovenftiing tbe boat, whereby the kmt^ht and atpnn wera
plunged into the -water. Although Don Quijtote could swim like m
goose, the weight of his armour now carried him twioe to the bottom :
and, had it not been for the millers who le&ped into the iítot, and
hauled them both out, ihcj must haré iuevitablf perished.

After htmng beeu dnizged oa shore, much more wet tlum thirsty,
Sancho again fell on his koees, and long and devontl; prajed that
Heaven would thenceforward protect him from the dangers to which
be was likel j to be exposed thróugh the rash enterpriaea of his master.
Now came the fishermen, owoera of the boat which had been entirely
destroyed by the mill-iríieels, and loudly demanded leparatiou for the
loes they had sustained, and for that ptirpoee bt^ran to strip SaiM^,
Then Don Quiiote, with na much unooncem as if nothine had hap-
jwued, grayel; told the millers and fishermen that he would wiilioglj
pay for the boat on condition of their deliTering np, free and without
tansom, the person, or peisona, whom they unmstly detained in their
castle. "What persons, or what castles, madman ! do youmeanP"
said one of the rnuUri ; would voaoarrroff those who come to haro
their com ground at our millsr" "There let it rest," thoojtht
Don Quixote to himself: "it is(»)ly preaching to the desert to endea-
vour, either by argument or entreaty, to incite these dr^ of humau
kind to a generous action ! In this adventure it is manifest that two
powerful enchanters must have engaged, the one frustrating what the
other attempts ; the one providing me a bark and the othv overset-
ting it. Heaven help me I in this world there is nothing but plots
and counter-plots, mmes and counter-mines !— 1 can do no more.
Then, casting a look of melancholy towards the mills, " Friends, he
said, " whoever ye are that live immured in that prison, pardon me, I
beseech you, for not having delivered vou from affliction ; by your ill
bte and mine it is ordained that this adventure should be reserved for
some more fortunate knight! " He then compounded with tbefiaher-
men, and agreed to give them fifty reals for the boat, which som
Sancho, with much refuctance. paid down, saying, " A conpte more of
snch embarkations as this will sink our vhole oapittd." The fisher-
men and laillers stood gazing with astonishment at two figuiea so far
< out of the fashion and semblance of other men, and were quite at a
loss to find out the meaning of Don Quixote's speeches ; ímt, con-
ceiving their inteUeots to be disordered, they left them; the millers
retiring to their mills, and the fishermen to their cabins; whereupon
Don Onixote and Sancho, bke a pair of senseless animals themselves,
returned to the animals they had left ; and thus ended the adventure
of the enchanted bark.

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTER XXXI.
Of Mihal bifa Den Quixote nU a fair kuntrta.

Low-aPiKiTZD, wet, mid ont of hnmonr, the kniglit and squire
teoched their cattle ; Sancho more especially ma grieved lo the very
Knil to htm encroiicned bo mucli upon their stock of money : oU that
vaa taken thenoe teeming to him u so much tolien from ttie applet
of his eyes. In short, they mounted, without exchuiging a word, and
silaitly quitted the banks of that famoua river : Don Quiiote buried
in amorouB meditationt, and Sancho in those of liis preferraeot. which
■Mmed at that moment to be vnn dim and remote ; for, dull as he
was, he saw deafly enoagh that hie master's actions were for the
most part little better than craEy, and he only waited for an oppor-
tuuitT, without comiufc to accounts and reckonings, to steal off and
tuaicn home. But fortune was kinder to him than he expected.

It happened on the fcdlowing day. near ausset, as they were issuing
from a forest, tb&t Dog Quixote espied sundry persons at a distance,
who, it appeared, as he drew nearer to them, were taking the diversion
of hawking ; aiul among them he remarked a gay lady monnted on a
palfrey, or milk-white pad, with green furniture and a side-saddle of
cloth of silver. Her own attire was ¿so green, and so rich and
beautifol that she was elegance itself. On her left hand she carried
a hawk ; whence Don Quixote conjectured that she must be a lady of
high rank, and mistress of the banting-party (aa in troth she waa),
and theretorehe said to hissqitire, "Hasten, Sancho, and make known
to the lady of the palfrey and the hawk, that I, ' tne Knight of the
Inons,' humbly salute her highnees, and with her gracioos leave, would
be prond to kias her fair lünds, «iid serre her to the utmost of niy

power
ttowtl

iwer and her higlinesa's commands : but take especial care, Sancho,
_jw thon deliferest my measage, and be mindful not to interlard th;
embassy with ai« of thy piOTerbs." "So, then," quoth Sancho,
"yonmust twit the interfardw!— but why this to me? as if this, for-
sooth, were the first time I had carried messages lo high and mighty
ladies!" "Excepting that to the lady Dulcinea," replied Don
Qaiiote, "I know of none thou hast carried— at least, none from me."
''That IS true," answered Sancho ; "but a good paymaster nreds no
surety : and where there is plenty, dinner is soon dressed : I mean,
títere is no need of schooling me ; for I am prepared for all, and know
something of everything," "I believe it, Sanche^" quoth Don
Quixote ; " go, then, and Heaven direct thee."

Sancho set cA at a good rate, forcing Dapple out of his usual pace,
ud went up to the fair huntress; then alighting, and kneeling before
her, he said, "Beauteous lady, that knight yonder, called 'the Knight
of the Lions,' it my master, and I am his squire. Sancho Pansa by
name. That same Knight of the Lions, lately callea the Knight of the
SorrowñU Figure, sends me to beg yonr grandeur would be pleased
to me leave that, with your liking and good-will, he may approach
and accomplish his wishes, which, as be says, and I believe, are no
oUier titan to terve your euJted beanty, whiieli if your ladj-ship grant,
,, .A.OOgIC

no DDK qUIXOTE.

Ton «ill do It thiD^ that mil redonsd to the great benefit of toot
oighness ; and to tum it will be a mightf farour and satisfaction.

Truly, food aquire," answered the lady. " jrou hare delivered yonr
message with all tlie circumstances which such embassies require;
rise up. 1 pray i for it isnot fit die aqnire of bo renowned a knight as
he of tlie Sorrowful Figure, of whom we have already heard much in
these parts, should remain upon his knees— rise, fnoud, and desire
Toor mast^, by all meanSj to honour us with his company, that my
lord duke and I may pay tmn oar respects at a rural mauaiDn we have
here, hard by." Sancho rose up, no less amazed at tbe lady's beauty
tb«) at her affabilitv and coar1«ouB deportment, and yet more thnt
her ladyship should have anr knowledge oí bis masler, the Knicbt of
the Sorrowful Figure 1 And if she did not give him his true title, he
concloded it was because he had assumed it so lately. "Pray," said
the duchess (whose titie is vet unknown), "is not yonr master the
person of whom there is a oistory in print, called, "The ingenions
gentleman Don Quixote de la Mancha^ and who baa for the mistreat
of his affections a certain htdy named Dulcinea del Toboso ?" " The
very same," answered Sancho ; "and that squire of his, called Sancho
Panza, who is, or ought to be, spoken of in the same history, am I,
unless I was changed m the cradle— I mean in tlie printing." " I am
much delighted bv what you tell me." quoth the duchess ; " go to
your master, good Panza, and ^ve aim my mvitaiion and hearty
welcome to my house ; and tell him that nothing could happen to me
which would afford me greater pleasure."

Sancho, overjoyed at this gracious answer, hastened back to bis
master, and repeated to tiim all that the great lady had said to him ;
eitolling to the skies, in his rustic phrase, ber eitraordinary beauty
and courteous behaviour. Don Quixote seated himself handsomely
in bis saddle, adjusted his Tisor, enlivened Rozinante's mettle, and
assuming a polite and stately deportment, advanced to kiss the hand
of the duchess. Her grace m tbe mean time having called the doke
her husband, had already given him an account of the embassy she
had just received ; and, as they had read the first part of this history,
and were, therefore, aware of the eitravagant humour of Don Quiiote,
they waited for him with infinite pleasure and the most eager desire
to be acquainted with hiin : determined to indulge his hnmonr to the
utmost, and, while be remained with them, treat him as a knight^
errant, with all the ceremonies described in books of chivalry, midti
they took pleasure in reading.

Don Quixote now arrived, with his beaver up ; and ¿gnifying his
intention to alight, Sancho was baslening to bold his stirrup, hot
nnfortuaately in dismonntiiig from Dapple, hia foot caught in one of
the rope-stirrups, in such a manner that it was impossible for him to
disentangle himself; and he hung by it, with his face and breast on
the ground. Don Quii;ote, who was not accustomed to alight with-
out havinf his stirrup held, thinking that Sancho was airead}' there to
do his office, threw his body off with a swing of hia rl^ht leg, that
brought down llozinante's saddle ; and the girth giving way, both he
and the saddle, to his great shame and mortification, came to the
ground, where he lay, muttermg between his teetb many a heavy
eiecrataon against the unfortunate Sancho, who was still hanging by
the leg. The duke having commanded some of his attendante to
relieve the knight and squue, they raised Don Quixote, who, thmigh

A.OOgIC

BIS KEZTINO WITH TBt DüKZ iXD SÜCHEGS. 411

nnch disoompiwed br his fnll, and Iñnpins, made an eft>rt to approach
and kneel before the lord and lad7. The duke, however, would by
no means suffer it; on the contrary, alighting from his horse, he
inunediateiy went np and embraced him, saying ; "I am very sorry,
air knight, that auca a mischance should happen to yon on yosT tint
arrÍTal on my domains ; bnt the n^ligenoe of squires is often the
occasion of even greater disasters." "The moment cannot be unfor-
tim^ that introduces me to your higlmesfl," replied Don Qniiot^
" and, had n^ tall heen to the centre of the deep abyss, tlie glory <A
seeingyourhighnesawonld have raised mc thence. My squire, whom
Heaven coafannd, is better at letting loose his tongue to utter imper-
tinence than at securing a saddle ; but whether down or np, on
horseback or on foot, I ahati always be at the service of your highness,
and that of my lady duchess jonr worthy consort — the sovereign lady
of beaaty, and universal princess of ali conrtesy." " Softlv, dear
Kgnor Don Quixote de hi Mancha," qnoth the duEti, "for, vnile the
peerless Dulomea del Toboso exists, no other beauty can be named."
Sancho li'anu had now got &eea from the noose, and beii» near,
before his roaster could answer, he said ; " It cannot be denied— nay,
it must be declared, that my Dulcinea del Toboso is a rare beauty :
but, ' wjiere we are least aware, there starts the hare,' I have heard
say that what they cad nature is like a potter who makes earthen
vessels, and he who makes one handsome vessel may also moke two,
and three, and a hondred. This 1 say because, bv my faith, her high-
ness there comes not a whit behind my mistress the lady Dulcinea del
Toboeo." Don Quixote here tomed to the duchess, and said: "I
Bsmre yoor grace, never any knight -errant in the world had a more
conceited am troublesome prater for bis sqoíre than I have; of this
he will «ve ample proof, if it please year nighness to accept of my
iervioe for some days." "I am glad to hear that my friend Sancho
ia conceited," replied the dncheas, "it is a sign he has good sense;
f» wit and gay conceits, as yon well know, Signor Don Quixote,

— "And a prater." added Don Quixote. "Bo much the better,"
Mid the duke. " tor many good thmgs cannot be expressed in a few
words ; and, that we may not throw away all our time uinn tbem,
come on, Sir Knight of the Soirowfnl Figm«." " Of the Lions, your
lighness shonld say," qnoth Sancho; 'Hhe Sorrowful Figure is no
more." " Of the Lions then let it be," continued the duke ; " I say,
oome OIL Sir Knight of the Lions, to a castle of mine hard by, where
yon shall be received in a manner soitable to a person of yonr dis-
tinction, and as the duchess and I are accustomed to receiTe «U
knitrhta^rrant who honour us with their society,"

Bt this time, Sancho havmg adjusted and well-girthed Rozinanle's
ladole, Don Quixote remonnted, and thus he and the duke, who rode
a stately oomser, with the duoheas between them, proceeded towards
the mstle. The duchess leqneated Sancho to be near her, being
mightily pleased vith his arch observations ; nor did Sancho reqoire
much entreaty, but, joining the other three, made a fourth in the
conversation, to the great satisfaction of the dnke and duoheas, who
looked upon themselves as highly fortnnate in having to introduce
■och guest» to their castle, and the prospect of enjoying the company
of snch k knigiitcinutt, and snolt an enaot-aqnire.

CHAPTER IXXn.

TTiicA lr«iUi ^ Many aid grtst Ikingt.

Sascbo's ioy was <^oessÍTe on seeii^ himself, u he tboDRht, a
favourite váih. the daehess : not donhting bat that lie should nod in
her castle the uuoe abnndaaee that prcrailed in the mansion of Don
Diego and Basilins ; for eood cheer vas the delight of hia heAit, and
therefore he alwaTs toot care to soiae by the forelock every op-

KrttmitT to indul^ that passion. Now the histotv relates that,
fore they came to the rural maiuioD, or castle, ol the duke, his
highness rode on before and gave directions to his servante in what
manner tliey were to behave to Don Quixote; therefore, when be
airived with the dnchess at the castle-gate, there imntediatelv issued ont
two lacquers or grooms, clad in a kind of robe or gown of uie orimson
satin reaching to their feet; and, taking Don Quixote in their arms,
thef priyal«iy said to him, " Go, great sir, and assist our lady the
dueliess to alight,"

The knight accordingly hastened to offer his services, which, after
much ceremony and many complimeots, her grace positively declined,
saying that she would not alight from her pufrey, ont into the dulce's
arms, as she did not think herself worthy to chaive so great a knigii
with so unprofitable a burthen, hi length thedoke cune out and
lifted lier from her horse ; and on their entering into a large inner-
oourt of the castle, two beautiful damsels advanced and threw over
Don Quixote's shoulders alarge mantle of the finest scarlet, and in an
instant all tiie fcoUeries of the courtyard were crowded with men and
women— the domestic household of lus grace, (Tying aloud, "Welcome
the ftowerand cream of knighta-errant!" Then they spnnkled whole
bottles of sweet-scented waters npon the knight, and also on the duke
and duchess ; oU which Don Quixote observed with surprise tuid
pleasure : being now, for the first time, thoroughly oonviBoed that he
was a true kuRnt,and no imajrinaTyone,sinoene was treatedjost like
the knizhts-eiTant of former times.

Sancho, abandoning Dapple, attached himself closely to the
duchess, and entered with ner into the castle : bat his consdenoe
soon reproached him with having left his asa alone, and unprovided
for. He therefore approached a •reverend duenna, who amongst
others came out to receive the duchess, and said to her in a tow voioe,
"Mistress Gonzalez, or pray madam, what may your name beF
" Dom» Rodrignei de Grnaiva," answered the duenna; " whatwould
you have with me, friend?" " I wish, madam Donna Kodriguei,"
replied Sancho, " you wonid be so good as to step to the castlc-^ate,
where you will find a daptile ass of mine ¡ and be so kind as to order
him to oe put into the stable, or put him there yooiaelf ; for the poor
thing is a little timorous, and cannot abide to he ajooe," " li the
master be of the some web as the man," answered tjie duenna, " wa
are finely thriven ! Go, brother, it was an evil hour for y*a and him
that brought yon hitlier, and look after yonr beast ytmnalLior ÜM

■'"«r'

BAHCEO's KXASONIBLI DElUltla. OS

dnenoas of this house are not aoonstomed to do such offices," "Hov
now!" Huvered Sancho; "Ihare heard mf master say — and he Ú
a notable hatid at histor; — that when Iiancelot came irom Britain
liuiiea took care of his persoiL and duennas of his horse : and, as for
niy ass, whatever foa ma; tnink, &ith, I would not swap him for
SignoT Lancelot's ft«ed." " Hark ;e, frieod, if you are a de&ler in
jests, take yoQT «area to another market, here they will not pass — a
fifc, sair, 1 for jour whole budfetl" "I thank ^n fur that, quoth
Sancho, "fori am sore it will De a ripe one :— if ■iity's the game, joa
will not lose it for want of a trick."

" Yon beast 1 " cried the dnenna, foaming with rage ; " whether I
am old or not, to Heaven I account, and not to thee— rascal, (rarljc-
eatingatinkanH" This she uttered so loud that thedachess turned
towards them, and, seeine the dueim» in such agitation, and her face
and ejes in a flame, asked her with wbcm she was so augrj. " With
this man here," answered the dnenna, " who has desired ine, in good
earnest, to go and put into the stable an ass of his that stands at the
castle-gate ; raking up, as an example, the tale of oue Lancelot,
whose steed was attended hf ladies; and, to complete his imper-
tinence, he coolly tells me that I am old!" "That, mdeed,"said Üte
duchess. " is an affrtrnt which cannot be endured." Then, turning to
Sancho, " Be assured, friend Sancho," said she, " jod are mistaken
on that point ; the veil which Doona Hodriguei wears is more for
uthoritj and fsehion than on account of her ;ears," " Maj I never
R^in know a prosperous oue," quoth Sancho, "if I meant hei aor
oiSence ! I on^ spoke because of^the great love I bear to my ass, ana
1 thought that I could not do better than recommend hmi to the
charitable care of the good Signora Donna Kodriguei." DooQniiole,
bearing this altercation, now interfered. " Sancho," said he, is thil
a fit place for sucb discourse f" " Sir," answered Sancho, "everyone
must speak of his wants, let bim be where he will. Here I bethought
me of Dappl^ and here 1 spoke of bim ; and if I had tbougiit of him
in the stable I should have spoken of him there." To which the duk«
«aid, " Sancho is veTf much in the right, and deserves no censure.
Dapple «ball have piovender to his hurt s content ; snd let Sancho
take no further care, for he shall be treated like his own person."

With Ün% conversation — pleasing to all but Dou Quiiote—ther
ascended the great stairs, and oondncted the knight into a spacious
hall, sumptuouslv hung with cloth of gold and rich brocade. Six
damsels attended to take off his armours^ serve as pa(^, all tutored
by the duke and duchess in their behavioor towards hmi, in order to
confirm Lis delusion. Bon Qutiote, being now unarmed- remained
in his straight breeches and chamáis doublet, lean, talL and stiff, with
his cheeks shrunk mU> his bead ; making such a figure that the
damsels who waited on him had much dif&culty to restrain their mirth,
and observe in bis presence that decorum which had been strictly
enjoined by their lord and lady. They besged he would suiFer him-
eelr to be undressed, for the purpose of chan^ng his linen ; but he
would by no means consent, saying that modesty was as becoming a
■knfeht.errant as courage. However, he bade them give the shirt to
'' ahucho ; and, retiring with him to an apartment where there was a
tich bed, be pHll|dpff his clothes, and there put it on.

Being thus oIoSg with Sancho, he said to him, "Tell mc^ buffoon
«ndbloclihmdl dost thouimagme Ua beocnning thing to abuse and

4U vas qcixoTE.

insolt a dneDna so venerable and so irorthy of respectF Wu that
a time to tbink of Dapple f Or ia it probable tbat these noble penona
would anffer our beasta to faia pooiw, when the; treat their ownen
so honourably ? Pot the iove of Heaven, Sancho, restnun thyself,
and discover not the grain, leat it should be seen how ooarse the web
is of which thon art spun. Ramemb», sinner, the master is esteemed
in proportion as his servante are respectable and well-hehaved ; and
one of the (neatest advantages which the great enjoy over other men
ia that they are served by domestics of a snperior mould. Dost tbon
not consider— plague to thyself, and torment to mel^that if it ia
perceived that thou art a rade clown or a conceited fool, they will be
apt to think that I am an impostor, or some knight of the sharpms
order? Avoid, friend Sancho, pray avoid, these inipcrticences, for
whoever sets np for a talker and a wit sinks, at the first trip, into a
contemptible buffoon. Bridle thy t«^iie: consider and deliberate
upon thy words before they quit thy bpa ¡ and recollect that we are
now in a place whence, by the help of Heaven and the valour of my
arm, we ma^ depart bettered by three, or perlisps flve-fotd, in forlwie
and rcpntation. Sancho promiseá him faithfaU; to sew up his
mouth, or bite his tongue heíote be spoke a word that was not duly
considered, and to the purpose ¡ and assnred him that he need be
under no fear of his saying anything that would tend to his worabip's
discredit.

Don Quixote then dreosed himSdf, girt on bis sword, threw the
scarlet mantle over his shoolders, put on a gnea aatin m^ which the
damseb had given him, and thus equipped marched out into the great
saloon, where he found the damsels drawn up on each side in two
equal ranks, and all of them provided with an equipage for washing
hiB hands, wtiicb they administered with many reverences and much
ceremony. Then came twelve pages, with the major-domo, to con-
dact bim to dinner, the lord and lady being now waiting for him :
and, having placed him in the midst of them with great pomp and
ceremony, they proceeded to another ball, where a rich table was
spread with four covers only. The duke and duchess came to the
door to receive him, accompanied by a grave ecclesiastic — one of
those who govern great men s houses ; one of those who, not being
nobly bom themselves, are unable to direct the conduct of those who
are so ; who would have the Itberahty of the great measured by the
narrowness of their own souls : mdcing those whom they govern
penurious, under the pretence of teaching them to be prudent. One
of this species was the grave ecclesiastic who came out with the duke
to receive Don Quijote. After a thousand courtly compUmenta
mutually interchanged, Don Quixote advanced towards the tabl^
between the duke and duchess, and, on preparing to seat themselves,
they offered the upi>er end to Don Quixote, who would have declined
it but for the pressing importunities of the duke. Ilic ecclesiastic
seated himself opposite to the knigbt, and the duke and duchess on
each side.

Sancho was present all the while, in amazement to see the bonoui
paid by those great people to his master, imd, whilst the numerous
entreaties and ceremomes were passing k'tween the duke and Don
Quietóte, before he would sit down at Uie head of the table, he said,
" With your honour's leave I will tell you a story of what bappened
in OUT town about seats." Don Quixote immediately began to trem-
A.OOgIC

UBOHO's KKtAZIOir. 115

ble, not doubting thit he waa aoing to saj tomethine «bsnrd. Sancho
oWerved him, and, onderstaiidiii^ liis looks, he taia, "Be not afraid,
sir, of m; breaking loose, or saying anything that is not p«t to the
purpose. I hare not ftirgotten the advice your worship gave me
«while ago, about talking mnch or little, well or ill." /'Iremember
nothing, Sancho," answered Don Quiiote; "say what thou wilt, m>
iaj*st it quickly." "What I wonJd say," qaoth Sanoho, "is very
true, for my master Don Quixote, who ia present, will not suffer me
to lie." "Lie as much as thou wilt for me, Sancho," repUed Don
Quiiote; "I shall not hinder thee; but take heed what thou art
going to say." " I hare heeded it over and over arain, so that it ia
as s^e aa if I bad the game in mvhand. as you shall presently see."
" Your graces will do well," aaid Don Quiiote, "to order this block-
bead to retire, that you niay get rid of his troublesome folly." " Bf
the life of the duke, quoth tae dnchess, " Sancho shall not stir * i(rt
from me : I have a great regard for him, and am assnicd of his lus-
oretion." "Many happy jears may your holiness live," quoth
Sancho, " for the good ooimon yon have of me, little as 1 deserve it.
Bnt the tale I would tell la this :—

"Acertain gentleman of our town, very rich, and of a Rood fomilr
— for he was aeacended from the Alamos of Medina del Campo, and
married Dontia Mencia de Quinnones, who was danghter to Don
Alonzo de ilaranon, knight of the order of St. James, the same that
VIS drowned in the Herradura, about whom that quarrel happened
incur town, in which it was saidmr master Don Qniiote bad a hand,
sud Tommy the mad^cap, son of Balvastio the blacksmith. wa« hurt —
pray, good master of mine, ia not all this true i Speak, I beaeech
Tou, tbat their worships maf not take me for some lying prater."

As yet," said the ecclesiastic, " 1 take you rather for a prater than
fwalür: but I know not what I shall next take yon for." "Thou
hast produced so many witnesses and so many proofs," said Don
Quixote, " that I caunot but sav thou mayst prooably be speaking
truth ; but, for Heaven's sake, shorten thy storv, or it will last thwe
two days." " He shall shorten nothing," quoth the ducbess ; " and,
to please me, he shall t«ll it hia ovm way, althoQgh he were not to
finish these six days ; and, should it last so loi%, they would be to me
days of delight,"

I most tell yon, then," proceeded Sanoho, " ibat this same gen-
tleman— whom I know as well as Í do my rigbt hand from my left,
for it is not a bowshot from my house to nis— invited a husbandman
to dine with him— a poor man, but mainly honest." " On, friend,"
said the chaplain, " for, at the rate you proceed, yoar tale will not
reach ita end till yon reach the other world." " I sball stop," re^ed
Sancho, " before I get half-way thither, if it please Heaven I Tba
same farmer, coming to tiie house of the gentleman hia inviter — God
rest hia soul, for he is dead and gone; and, moreover, died bke an
angel, as it is said— for I was not by myself, ireing, at that time, gone
a reaping to Tembleque." "Prithee, son," said the eccieaiaatic,
" come back quickly from Tembleoue, and stay not to bury the gen-
tleman, unless you ace determined upon more burials:— pray make
an end of your tale." " The business, then," quotb Sandio, " was
this, that, they being ready to sit down to table — raethinks I seelhcm
plainer thai) ever." The duke and duchess were highlv diverted nt
the impatience of the good eooLeaitwttc, and at the length and pansee
A.OOgIC

ana Texaiion. i taj. wen, quow sancDO, wm, u ineywere
both Btaudins before toe dioner-table, just reulv to sit doñi, tbe
farmer insístiül tlmt the gentleman should take tCe npper end of the

„ o __ , , s upon the

farmer's shoulders, and made him sit down by main force, saying,
' Sit thee down, clod-pole ! for in whatever place I am seated, that u
the upper end to thee.' This ia my tale, aiul truly I think it comes
in here prettj much to the parpóse.

The nalurá] brown of Don Quiiote'a face vas flashed irith anger
and shame at Sancho's inainuationa, bo that the duke and duehess,
seeing his distress, endeavoureil to restrain their IsuRhter; and, to
prevent further impertinence from Sancho, the duohese a«od Don
Vuixote what newa he had last received of the lady Dulcinea, mi
whether he had ktely sent her anj presents of giants or caitiffs, sinoe
he must certainty have vanquished mimy. " Alas, madam ! " answered
be, "m; misfortunes have had a beginnintr, but thejwill never have
ail end. Giants I have conquered, and robbers, and wicked caitifh:
and numv have I sent to the mistress of my soul ; but where shonld
tliey find her, transformed as she now is into the homeliest nutk
wench that the imagination ever oooceivedP" "I know not, «1%
how that can be," cpioth Sancho, " for to me she appeared the SKxt
beautiful creature in the world : at least f<» nimbleneas, orín » kind
of a spring she htis with ber, I am sure no stage tumbler can go be-
yond her. In good futh, mjr lady duchess, she springs from tlie
ground upon an ass as if she were a cat." " Have you seen her
enchanted, Sancho F" quoth the duke. "Seen herl" ansveied
Sancho ¡ " who the devil was it but I thdt first hit upon the boñ-
ness of her enchantment i Yes, she is as much enchanted as my
father."

The eecleaiMtic, when he heard talk of giants, odtifs, and endksxt-
tnenls, b^an to suspect that this most be the Don Quixote de la
Manena «hose history the duke was often reading; and he had ■«
freciuently reproved him for so doing ; telling bim it was idls to ivaA
sucn fooleries. Being assured of tne truth of his suspicion, w^
mucli indignation he said to the duke, "Your excellency will be
accountable lo Heaven for tfie actions of this poor man — this Don
Quixote, or Don Coxcomb, or whatever yon are pleased to call him,
cannot be quite so mad as your exceUeney would make him by thus
enoouraging his eitravagant f)moies." Then turning to Bon Quiioto,
he said—" And yon, signor addle-pate, who has thrust it into yoar
brain that you are a knight-errant, and that you vanquish giants and
robbers f (Jo, get you home in a good hour, and in such are you now
admonished ¡ return to your family, and look to your children, ifyo»
have uiy : mind your aliairs. and cease to be a vagabond about the
world, sucking the wind, ana drawinz on yourself the derisiim of all
that know yoo, or know you not. Where, with a murrain, have JM
ever found that there are, or ever were, in the world such creatures
as knights-errant? Where are there giants in Spain, or caitilis in
La Mancha, or enchanted Dulcineas, or all the rabble rout of follies
that tm told of yooF" Don Quixote was very attentive to the

A.OOgIC

THE knight's axstzb id his sefhoteb. 417

«ords of Ibe KTerend genllemaD, and, findinv tb*t hems now silent^
r^^ardless of the respect doe to the dulce ana duchess, up he started,

with indignntion and Tnrr in hu looks, and said biá his answer

deserves a chapter to itseu.

CHAPTER XXXin.
0/iAi oMwfl" Don ^iioU gant to hit r/prover; rüh olier ¡ravi ana

Spbin&iho to his feet, Don Quiiote, trembling like qnicksilver
from head to foot, in an agitated voice said, " The pUoe where I
un, and the presence of the noble pcrsonofrcs before whom I staikd,
as well aa the respect which 1 have ever entertained for jour

C'ission, restrain m; just indiniation; for thes« reasons, and
use 1 know, as all the world knows, that the weapons ij
gownsmen, like those of women, are their tongues, with the same
weapon, in equal oombat, I will engage your reverence, from whom
good counsel mieht have been expected, rather than seurrilit;.
Charitable and WQolesome reproof requires a different language ¡
at least it must be owned that reproach so public, as well as rud&
exceeds the bounds of decent reprehension. Mildness, sir, would
have been better than asperit* \ but was it either jost or decent, at
once, and without knowledge of the fault, plainly to proclaim the
offender madman and idiot Í Tell roe, I beseech jour reverence,
for which of the foUies jou have observed in me do jouthns condemn
and revue me, desiring me to go home and take care of my house,
and of mv wife and children, without knowmg whether I have eitlierr
What 1 tnere is nothing more to do, then, but boldly enter into other
men's houses, and govern the masters, for a poor pedagogue, who
never saw more of the world than twenty' or thirty leagues around
hun, lashlv topresume to give laws to chivalry, aod pass jiidgments
npon knigota-Niant I Is it, forsooth, idleness, or time mis-spent, to
niWQ the world, not seeking its pleasures, but its hordahipa, through
vbich good men aspire to the seat of immortality F IT men, high
bom, and t£ liberal minds, were to proclaim me a madman, I shotud
rward it as an irreparable aiFront : but to be esteemed a fool by
n^lanta who never trod the path of chivalry, I value it not a msli,
\ knight I am, and a knight I will die, if it be Heaven's good will.
Some choose the spacioos field of proud ambition ; othets the meaii
path of servile and base flattery ; some seek the way of deceitful
nypocrisy, and others that of true religion : but I, directed by Uie
star that rules mvfate, take the narrow path of knight-enantryi
despisiof wealth, bat thirsting for honour. I have redressed griev-
ances, rwlited wrongs, chastised insolence, vanqnislied giants, and
tramplett upon hobgoblins: I am enamoured— for knights-enant
must be so ; but I am conscious of no licentious passion— my love is
of the chaste Plfrtonio kind. Mv intentions are always directed to
Tirtnoua ends — to do good to aU. and injury to none. Whether he

A.OOgIC

Ai BOK QUTXCm.

vtio tbiU means, ibas acts, and thni K<res, deflerveR t

let ¡roflr hii^esGes )udge, mort «icellent dnke ttnd dudieBs."

"Well said, i' futh ! " quotb Sancho. " 8ay no mon for Toimelt
good lord «na master : for tbere n ootlitBf more ú tbe wrmi t« be
said, thooBbt or done. And, besides, tiiis gentleraan denjing', m he
bas deiiied, that there neitber are, nor erer were, kni^rta-eitoDt, M
wonder if be knows nothing of what he has been talking ^ont." " 8»
tbeo," said the ecclesiastic, " you, 1 suppose, are the same Ssaofao
" ■' ' " ' ■ ' ■ ' J,Jf^1 nuijter has promised an

_ , _.^ le squire, " (Bid desorre it to(^

IS anr other be «batever. Uf sncb as me, it is said, ' Ket^
«DBipany vitn the good, and thoa vih be one of them ;' and, ' Not
with whom tbou wert bred, but with whom thou bast fed ;' aoá,
' He that leuieth against a good tree, a good shelter findeth he.'
X bava leaned anii stuck close to a good master these man; nM»tlil,
and shall be sudi another as he. if it be God's good pleasure; ana
if he lÍTes, and I lÍTe, neither shidl he want kingdoms to role, nor
I islands to goreni."

" That yon shall not, Iriend Sancho," said tbe 1be duke, " for in
the name of Signor Dim CJniscrte, I promise yon tbe goiC" ~* '
one of mine now Tacont, and of no ineonsiderablc TaJoe."

" Kneel SamAo," said Don Quixote, " and kiss his eiceitency's
feet for the faTour he has done tbee." Banoho did so ¡ npon whwb
the eeclesiastío got up from the table in great wrath, sapny, " By
the habit I wear, I could find in my heart to say that jonr escelleiKT'
is as simple as these sinners - no wonder Ürey are mad, stnee woe
men authcnie their follies ! Your eicellencr mav stay with them, if
jou please ; bnt while they are in this boose I will remain in myows,
and save myself the trouble of reproving where 1 cannot amend.
Then, without saying another word, and leaving- bis meal vnfinishei^
away he went, in spite of the entreaties of the duke and duchess:
though, indeed, the doke could not say much, through laughter at ha
fooUsh petulance.

As soon as his 1aught«r would allow him, tbe duke said \a Don
Quixote, " Sir Knijcht of tbe Lions, ydb have answered so well fee
yoorself and your profession, that yon can require no farther satis-
nctiau of the angry dergymon ; especislly if yon oonsider that, wbsi-
vrer he might say, it was impossible for him, as yoa well know, t«
■fitont apersonof yonrebaractcr." "It is true, my lord," answered
Don Quiiote, " wboerer cannot receire an ai&ont cannot give oi

'" ' '" ... .. . (efend themseli _

, . ... __ . , , _s yoar ^cdlmoy

Mtter knows, there is thi» difference between as injury and an
«ffitjnt : an affront most come from a person wbo not only gires it,
but who can maintain it when it is given ; an injury may come from
any band. A man, for example, walking in the street, 18 unet
pectedly set upon by ten umed men, wbo heat him : be draws his
eword to avenge the injary, but tbe assailants overpowering him
by numbers, he is compelled to forego the satisfaction he desired:
this person is injured, but not affnmted. Aeain, let ns suppose
~.~ — _ Í- , secretly behind another and strike him with a

escapes: he who _ ._, , .. „ ,

received no affront, bceanse tiie violenoe offend is not maintained.

A.OOgIC

1i he vho gan Ü¡e blow, though it vas dc«B buelj', stands \ae
ground to ansirer fur tlie detd, tJieii he wlio vas struck ii botk

Stiai«d and •Sronled: iajured mcousb he was struck in a secret
and oowardlf mawer, ana affronted because he who gave the blov
■toed his grouid to maintain what lis had done. According to the
lawa of d«el, thecelure, I ma; be iiyured, but not affronted j for,
as womui and ehildrea can neither resent nor maintaiii opposition,
W» it b with the elercn'i "ho cait; no weapons, either ouensive or
defeasive ; and, though they have a right to ward off all violence
offered ta theuwelies, they can offer no affront that demandr honour-
able satisfacttoo. Upon oonsideration, therefore, although I bof«e
said I was injured, I now affirm that it could not !«; for he who can
reoeive ne amoot can give none ; and, consequently, 1 neither ou^ht,
nor do, feel any reoentiuent for what that good man said to me — only
I oould have wished be had stayed a little longer, that I luight hare
«onvineed him of his error in snpposinx that knighta-erraut ti
existed in the world. Indeed, had A madia, or any of his nume. _
descendants, heard so strange an assertion^ I am persuaded it would
have gone nard with his reverence." " That I will swear," quoth
Sancho; "at oneslaah they would have cleft him from top to bottom
likcapomcgnuiate; theyweranotfolkfitubesojeatrdwith. Ods, bfe!
had Keynaldoe de Montalvsu heard the little gentleiiiHn talk at that
rat«, be would havE given him such a gag aa wonld have stopped his
mouth for (hree veare at leaat. Ay, ay, let him fall into their
clutches, uid see now he will get out again!" The duchess was
overoDme with laugliter at Sancho'a leaL and thought him more
diverting and mad than his mast» ; indeed many others at that time
were oí the same opinion.

At lengthy Don Quixote being pacified and calm, and the dinner
coded, the doth was removed; whersupim four damsels entered, one
with a silver ewer, another with a basin, also of silver, a third with
two fine clean towels over her shoulder, and the fourth with her
sleeves tucked up (oherellxiw9.and in her wliite hands |fot doubtless
.they were white) a «aah-ball of Naples soap. The damsel who held
the basin now respectfully approached the knight, and placed k
nnder his beard, while he wondering at the ceremony, yet believing
it to be the onstom of that country to wash beards instead of hands,
obediently thrust out his chin as far as he cculd ; whereupon the
ewer began to rain upon his face, while the damsel of the wash-ball
lathered his beard with great dexterity, covering with a snow-white
¿roth, not only the beard, but the whole face of the submissíve
knight, even over his eyes, which he was compelled to close. The
duke and duchess, who were not in the secret were eager to know
the issue of this extraorditiary ablation. The barber-damsel haviiw
raised a lather a s))an hi^h, pretended that the watn was all used,
and ordered the girl with the ewer to fetch more, telling her that
Stt^HOi; Don Quixote would stsjr till she came back. Thus he was
ieft, the straogeat and most ridiculous %are imsi^inoblc^ to the gaze
of ail that were present ; and, seeins him with his neck half an ell
len^, more than moderately swartliy, hia eyes hnll'-shut. and his
whole visage under a eovering of white foam, it was mnrvellons, and
a siffn of great disoretioD, that they were able to preserve their

'Die danuela oonoBnied in the jest hong down their eyes, not

3*3 , , „ .x.OO¡^\C

489 DO» qüisOTB.

dnrins to look »t tlieir lord or lady, who were dWided betwtpn anger
(iiid mirth. Not knnsrinst whether to cliaatise the (jirls for theie
boldness, or reward them fur the amusement their device had afforded.
The wBtcr-nfinph returned, una the beard-washini^ was Snished,
when site who wu ciiro^d with the towele performod the office of
wiping and drying with much dehberation; sndlhus the cerenKmr
iKiDg concluded, the four damsels at once, nulcini; tim a profound
reverence, were retiring, when the doWe, to prevent Don Quixote
froni suspectine the jest, culled the damael with the basin, and said,
"Cotne and do jour clnty, and take core that you have water
enough." The ¿tri, who was shrewd and active, went up, and
applied the basin to the duke'a chin in the aamc manner she hi^ done
to ttiat of Don Quixote ; and with eqnal adroitness, tint more
celerity, r^eated the ceremony of lathering, washing, andiripiD^;
ftnd the whole being done, they made tbeir cúrtales, and retired. The
duke, however, had declarca, as it afterwards appeared, that he
would have chastised them for their pertness, if they had refused ta
serve him in the same manner.

Sanoho was very attentive to this washing ceremonv. " Heovea
ffnide me!" said he, muttering to himself "ia it the castom, I
wonder, of this place to wash the beards of squires, as well as of
knights? Un my conscience and soul, I need it much; and if
they would give me a stroke of a razor, I. should take it for a still
greater favour." " What ore jou enying to yonrself, Sancho 1*"
quoth the duchess. " 1 say, madam," answered Sanoho, " that in
other bouses of the great, 1 nave always heard that, when the cloth
is taken atray, the custom is to brii^ water to wash hands, but not
suds to scour beards ¡ and therefore one must live long to sec mtteh.
It is also said he who lives long must suffer mnch ; thoogh, if 1 am
not mistaken, to be so sooor^l must be rather a pleasure than a
pain." " Be under no concern, friend Sancho," ((uoth the duchcas ¡

for I will order my damsels to see to your washing, and to lay j'ou
a bucking too, if needful." " For the present, if my beard get a
scouring I shall be content," said Sancho; "for the rest. Heaven
■will provide hereafter." " Here, stewúd," said the ducliesi
" attend to the wishes of good Sancho, and do precisely as he would
have joo." He answered that Signor Sanoho should in all thinea
be punctually obeyed; and he then went todiunec, and took Sancho
aloiur with him.

Aieantime, Don Quixote remained wilk the duke and duchess,
discoursing on divers matters relatmg to arms and knight-errantry.
The duchess entreated Don Quixote, since he seemed to have so
ha^py a memory, that he would delineate and describe the beauty
»mplÍ3hmeul« of the lady Du' ' • ■ >" ■

., jhe truth, she must needa be tl

and, oonsequeotly, in ha Mancha,
heaving a deep si(!h, "if I could pi

before you on this table, your hig _.

painted to the life, and I might save my tongue the fruitless laboui
of dcscribii^that which can scarcely be conceived : for how am I to
delinea or describe the perfections of that paragon of excellence t
My diouldere are unequal to so mighty a burthen; it is a t«ak
worthy of the pencíla of Farrhasius, limantes, end Apelles, and the
chisel of Lysqipiis, to produce, in speaking factures, w st*tnes ai
" A.OOgIC

* SHOWS HBK H

Vome, oc muUe, s oopf of her beauHet, and Ciceroniui and

9 the

tlie twu jTicatesC orators and rlcloricians in the ^orld." " That i»
true," said the duke, " and ;dq betrayed jonr i^oraiice in asking
Eucli a queation ; neTertheless, Si^oor Don Quixote rould ñvc lU
great pleasure by endeaTonriug to paint her to us : for. though it be
«aly tt rough sketch, doubtless she 'vill appear such as the most beas'
tifulmaf envy." Ah! my lord, so she eertainij would," answered
Don Qaixote, " had not the misfortune nhieh lately befel her, blnrr«d
and defaced the lovel<f idea, and razed it from my memory : — aueh a
miafurtono, that I ought rather to bewail what she suffers than
describe what she b ; for jour eicellcncies must know that, ^ing,
Bot many days since, to k»a her hands and receive lier benediction,
with her commands and license for this third sally. I foiind her quite
Miotbcr person tlian her I soug-ht for. I found fier enchanted and
transformed from a princess into a country wcnoh, from beautiful to
Bgly, &om an angol to a ñcnd, from fr^rant to pestift-mus, from
courtly to rustic, from light to darkness, from a di^iSed ladf to a

{'an>piii^JoBn— in fine, from Dulcinea del Toboso to an unsizhtly
mmpkm of Sámago." " Heaven defend me ! " exclaimed the duke,
elevating his voice, " what villain con have done t)ie world so much
injury P who bas depriyed it of the beauty that delightfd it, the grace
that chaniied, and the mOHfcatythat did it honour?" "Whof"
answered Don Quixote, " who could it be but some malicious
enehanter, of the many that persecute me ;^-that wicked brood that
was sent mto the world only to obscure and annihilate the exploits of
the Kood, and to blazon fortn andm^^ify the actions of the wicked ?
Üoeliantérs have hitherto persecuted me; enchanters now persecute
me, and so they; will oontinue to do, until they have overwhelmed me
and my lofty chivalries bto the profoundabyM of oblivion. Yes, even
in the most sensible part they injure and wound me : well knowinff
that to deprive a knight-errant of his mistress, is to deprita him of
tiie e^ he sees with, the sun that enlightens nim, and the food that
inntanTB him ; for, as I have often said, and now repeat it, a knijtht-
errant, without a mistress, is like a tree withont leaves, an edifice
without cement, and a shadow without the material substance by
which it should be east."

" All this," said the duchess, " is not to be denied r yet if the pub-
üshed historyof Don Quixote, so much applauded by all nations, be
worthy oE credit, we are bound by that authority, it I am not mis'
taken, to think that there is no such lady in the world, she being only
•s ioaidnary lady, begotten and bom of vour own brain, and dressed
out with all the ¡traces and perfections of your fancy ! " " There is
much to be said upon this point," answered Don Quixote : " Ueavea
knows whether there b« a Dulcinea in the world or not ; and wbetber
■he lie imaginary i» not imaginary ; these are thinas not to be too
nicdy inquired into. I neither begot, nnr brou^lit forth my mistress,
tkongh I contemplate her as a lady endowed with all those qualiflot-
tions which may spread the glory of her name over the whole world :
' i beaut; witDoat blemish, dlgnit; without pndt^
A.OOgIC

4!2 DON qUIZOTB.

love with modesty, politeness springing' from eonrtesy, «nd ctmrtesy
from Rood -breed in;, and, finally, of Dlustrions descent ; for tLe beairty
that is of a noble race, shines with more splendour thnn that whieh is
meanli' bom." " Tliat cannot be doubted," qnoth the duke ; " hot
Si^or Don Quixote must here pve me hxi^e to apeak on the anlbo-
litji of the history of his exploits ; for there, althcmgh it be alloved
tliat, either in or out of Toboso, there is actnatly * Dulcinea, and
that she is no leas beautiful and accomplished than your worehip has
described her, it does nut appear tliat, in respect to hieh descent,
she is upon a level with the Urianas, the Alastrnjarcas, Madasimas,
and many others ivhoae names, as yoa well know, are celebrated in

" The lady Dulcinea," replied Don Quixote, " is the danghter ef
her ovn works; and your grace will acknowledj^ that virtue ennobles
blood, and that a virtuous person of humble birlb is more estimable
than a vicious person of rank. Besides, that incomparable lady has
endowments which may raise her to a crown and sceptre : for still
greater miracles are within the power of a beautifoi and virtuous

~ J ii - < I j,(j(^ ¿jj form, possess the advantage yon

! than compensated V that mine of intrinsio
f inheritance." " Certainly, Sic;nor Don
Qaiiote," cried the duchess, "you tread with great caution, and,
as the sayiny is, with the plummet in hand ; nevertheless, I am
determined to believe, and make all my family, and even my lord
duke, it necf ssaiT, believe, that there is a Dulcinea del Toboso, and
that she is at this moment livins, beautiful, highly-born, and well
deserving that such a knight as Signer Don Quísote should be her
servant, which is the highest commendation 1 can bestow upon her.
But tl)ere yet remains a small matter on my mind, coueeming which
I cannot entirely excuse my friend Sancho, and it is this ; in the his-
tory of TOUT deeds we are told that, when Sancho Panza took your
worship s letter to the bdy Dulcinea, he (bond her winnowing a saA
of wheat, and that, too, of the coarsest kind — a ciioumstance tlfflt
seems incompatible with her high birth."

To this Don Quixote replied. " íour graoe must know that, whe-
ther directed by the inscrutable will of fate, or eontrived by the
malice of envious eachanters, it is certain that all, or the greater part,
of wliat has befallen me, is of a more eitraordináy nature than whrt
osnally happens to other knights-errant ; and it is weQ known that the
moat famous of that order had their privileges : one was exempt (rem
the power of enchantment ; the flesü of another was impenetrable to
wonnds, as was the case with the renowned Orbndo, one of the
twelve peers of France, who, it is said, was invulnerable eieept in
the heel of the left foot, and that, too, accessible to no weapon bnt
the point of a lai^ pin ; so that Bernardo del Carpió 'who killed him
at Honcesvalles), perceiving tiiat he could not woond him with steel,
snatohed him from the ground, and squeeied him to death betwixt
his armsi recollecting, probably, that the giant Antasus was ra
destroyed by Hi;rcu]e3. It may fairly be presumed, therefore, that I
have some of those privileges— not that of being invulnerable, for
experience has often shown oie that I am made m tender fiesfa, and
by no means impenetrable ; nor that of being exempt from Ihe pown'
of cnchautmen^ for I have alreadv been confined in a cage, into
which, but for that power, tíie irtiols world ooold never hare forvcd

A.OOgIC

THE KXIGHT XCLOOIZEa HUICHO. Ü3

toB. Howerei, ásoe I freed mjieii thence, I un mchned to believa
no other can reach me ; aud therefore these enchanters, *eeiiig the^
caimot ptvctúa their wicked artifices a|>on mr p^.f^^n.^trrcak their
vengeance «pon the object of my affections; nopinz, ny their evil
treatmeot other in whom I exift, to take that life which was, other*
vise, proof against their incantations. 1 am conrince^ therefore,
that, wnen Sancho delivered m; message to the ladr Dulcinea, tbef
presented her lo him in the fonn of a conntrr w < ' .< .
' ■ ' ■ ' ■ BnLa;

the palace of Dulcinea;— naj more, not many dafi ago she wai
bj my snuirC; in her proper fii^ure, the most beaatiful that c
imagued, «hileat Uie same moment she appeared tome acoarse.ug^
country wench, aud her laognagc, instead of heing discretion itseS
— - ^o less oifeiiiSLTe. 'ITins, then ' - ■'--' ^-- ^ - -'

the e

in he ^ — B— ■

ahoU live in perpetual tears till I see her restored to her pristine
•tat«.

" All this I say, that Dothing injnrioos to my lady m^y be inferred
from what Sancho has related af^ her aifting and winnowing ; for, if
she speared aa dunged to me at one time, no wonder that she should
•eeni transformed to nim at another. Assuredly, the peeileaa Doloi-
nea is highlv-bom, and alUed in blood to the best and most ancient
familiea of Toboso, which town will, IVomhernune, be nolessfatnons
in after-ages, than Troy is for its Helen, and 8piin for its Cava ;
though on a more honourable account. And in rej^ard to my sqoirs
Sancho Panza, I beg tout highnesses will do him the justice to
belíBíe that ne»er was tnighl-errant served by A squire of more plea-
•antn. His shrewdness and ainpiicity appear at times so curiously
mingled, that it is «musing to oooaider which of the two prevails : he
has ekusning enoagh to be snspeoted of knavery, and absurdity enon^
to be thought a fooL He doubts everythiog. yet he believes every'
tiling; and, when I imagine hím about to liai into a downright idiot,
«nt eomee some observMioa so pithy and sogaeioas that 1 liaow not
where to stop in my admiration. In short, I woold not exchange him
for aoy other iqnire, thou^ a city were offered me in addition' and,
there^m, I am in doubt whether I «hall do well to send faira to the

Svenunént yonr highness has conferred on him, though I perceive in
n a capacity so well suited to aneh an office, that, with but a mode-
ate addilKnt of polish to hi* ondentandiag, he will be a perfect mas-
ter in tke art of goreming. Besidea we Dtow, by sundry proofs, that
■uiither great talents not mnch learning are neceñaij to soehappoint-
nwat* ; foe there are hundreds oí govonon who, thongh they mb
MaceeJy read, yet in their du^ ai« a* sharp as hawks. The diief

anisite is a piod iatentian: uioae who have no other desire than to
^iciditty, will alwaye find able and virtvoos couns^ois to instroet

_ t to bo radv with advice., »y counsel

to Saatdio wonld be, ' AH bribes to refase, bnt insist on his dues : with
#oiue other little ipattnt Thick lie in my bieas^ and which shall coma

4Si JH» qtmo».

forth in proper time for Sancho's benefit, and the welfare of the island

he Í3 to goyem."

In this manner were the dule, the duchess, and Don Quixote con-
Tersing, when suddenly a preat noise of many voices was heard in
another ^art of the palace, and presently Sancho rnshed into the
saloon, with a terrifled countcnanee, and a dishclout under his chra,
follon-ed by a nmnber of kitchen-helpers, and other inferior servants ;
one of whom carried a troueh full of something that seemed to be
dish-water, with which he followed close opon Saneho, nod made many
eiforta to place it under bis chin, while another scullion seemed equally
eager to wash his beaid with it.

What is the matter, fellowsP" quoth the duchess; "what would
yon do with this gm>d man ? do you not know that be is a Roreniot
elect?" "This gentleman," said the roguish beard-washer, williKit
suffer himself to be washed, aonotding to custom, and aa our lord tba
duke and his master have been." " Yes, I will," answered Sancho, in
great wrath, " but I would have cleaner towels and clearer snds, and
not such filthy bauds ; for there is no such difference betweec me and
jay master, that be should be washed with angcl-water and I with
deril'a lev. The customs of countries or of «reat men's houses ars
good as tar as they are agreeable ; but this of beard-sconring, here, is
worse than the friar's scourge. My beard is clean, and I have no need
of such refreshings - and he who uoers to scour me, or touch a hair of
my head— my beard 1 should say — with due reverence be it spoken,
shall feel the full weight of my flst upon his skull : for ench ceremo-
nies and soapings to my thinking look more like jokes and jibes than
a civil welcome."

The duchess was convulsed with laoghler at Sancho'a remonstruices
and ra^, but Don Quixote could not endure to behold his squire so
accoutred with a fi!th;towel,Hnd baited byskitchenrabble. Making,
therefore, a low bow to the dnke and duchess, as if reqaesting tlieir
permission to speak, he said to the greasy trioe, in a solemn voice.

Hark ye, good people, be pleased to !et the young man alone, ana
lelum wbence ye came, or whither ye list ; for my squiie is as clean
as another man, and these troughs are as odious to him as a narrow-
necked jug. Take my advice, and leave him- for neither he nor I
understand this kind of jesting." " No, no, qaoth Sancho (inter-
rnpting his master), "let them gp on with Iheirsport, and see whether
I will bear it orno! Let them oring hither acomb, or what else they
please, and curry this beard, and it they find anything there thu
should not be there, I will give them ieave to shear me cross-wise."

" Sancho Panza is perfectlv right" said the duchess, " and will be
so in whatever he shell say : he is clean, and, as he truly says, needs no
washing ; and, if he be not pleased witb our custom, he is master of
his own will. Besides, unmauDcrly scourers^ you who are so forward
to purify others, are yonrselvea shamefully icUe— in truth, 1 should
say impudent, to bring your trooghs and greasy dish-clouts to such a
personage and such a beard, instead of ewers and basins of pure gold,
and towels of Dutch diaper. Out of my sight, barbarians ! low-bom
wretches, who cannot help showing the spite and enfy you bear to the
•quires 01 knights-errant f "

The roguish orew, and even the major-domo, who acoODipanied them,
tboi^ht the duchess was in earnest, and, hastily removing the fonl
cloth from Stucho's neck, they slunk away in oonfusioo. The sqoiMi

A.OOgIC

THE DUCnCSS COWIJIUXTS SANCHO. 4S&

<m bein^ thtis delivered from what he tbongbt imniineiit dtoiger,

threw liimself oa his knees befoie the duchess, — " Heareii blesa )'our
highness," quoth he; "great persons are able to do sre^ kindnesses.
For my part, I know not how to repay your ladyship for that jou haya

I'ust done pie, and can onlj wish myself dubbed a KDi^ht-emtnt, that
'. rMy employ all the da^ of my life in the serrice ofso high a lady.
A peasant I am, Sancho Panza my name ; I am married, I nave chil-
dren, and I serve as a squire ; if with any one of tiese I can bo ser-
TÍceablo to yoor gruidenr, I shall be mmbter in obeying than your
ladyship in commanding."

"It plainly appears, Sancho," answered the duohess, "that you
have learned to De courteous in the school of courtesy itself— I mean,
it 19 evident that you have been bred under the win; of Signer Udd
Quiiote, who is toe very cream of complaisance, and the flower of
oeretoony. Well may it fare .with such a master and such a man ! —
the one the poloi súi of knight-errantry, and the other the hrigbt
luminary of squire-like fidelity 1 Bise up, friend Sancho, and t)e
assured I will reword your courtesy by prevailing wilh my lord duke
to hasten the performanoe of the promise lie has made you of a govern-
Here the conversation ceased, and Don Quixote went to reposa
duiing the beat of the day ; and the duchess acsircd Sancho, if he hod
no ¡ncDoation to sleep, to pass the afternoon with her aiid her damsels
in a very cool apartment. Sancho said, in reply, that though he was
wont to sleep four or five hours a day, during the aTtemoon heats of
the summer, yet to wait npon her Jiiglinesa, he would endeavour, wilh
all his might, not to sleep at all that day, and would be at her Bervice.
He accordingly retired with the duchess ; while tlie duke made fui-
tber anangements conccminK the treatment of Don Quixote : being
desirous that it should, in ail things, be strictlv conformable to the
style in which it is recorded the knights of former times were

UignieUb, Google

BOOK III.

CHAPTEB, XXXIV.

The histoj then relates that Sancho Panut did not take his an«T-
noon elecp, but, in compliance with his promise, went immediately
after his dinner b) see the duchess, who, beins delighted to hear him
talk, deaiied him to sit down by her on a stool, althouzh Sancho, out
of pure (rood manners, would nave declined it ; but the duchess told
him that tie must be Heated as a govemor, and talk as a squire, since
in both those capacities he deserved the very seat of the famous cham-
pion Cid Ruy Días. Sancho therefore submitted, and placed hims^
dose by the duchess, while al) her damseb and dueonaS drew near
and stood in silent attention to bear the conversation. "Now that
wo «re alone," said the dnohess, "where nobody can overhear
US, I wish si^or governor would satisfy me as to certain donbta
that have arisen from the printed history of the great Bern Qniiote;
one of which is that, as houest Sancho never saw Dulcinea — I mean
the lady Dulcinea del Tobo60— nor dehrered to her the letter of Don
Quixote, which was left in the pocket-book in the Sierra Morraia, I
would be glad to know how he could presume to fei^ an answer to
that letter, or assert that he found her winnowing wheat, which he
must have known to be altogether &lse, and much to the prejudice ot
the peerless Dulcinea's chwacter, as well as inconsistent with the
dnty and fldelitr of a trusty sqaire,"

At these words, withost nuking any reply, Sancho got up from his
stooL and with his body bent, and the tip of his fore-fln^r on his
lips, he stepped softly round the room, lifting np the hangings : and
tfia done, he sat himself down again and Bajd, "Now, madam, that I
am sure that nobody but the company present caa bear us, I will
answer, without fear, to all yon ask of me : and the first thing I teU
}^>u is that I take my master Don Quixote for a downright madman;
and though sometimes he will talk in a way which, to my thinking,
and in the opinion of all who hear him, is so much to the purpose that
Satan himaelf could not speak better, yet for all that, I believe him to
be really and truly mad. Now this being so. as in my mind it ia,
nothmg is more easy than to make him believe anything, though it has
neither head nor tail : like that affair of the answer to the letter, and
another matter of some six or eight days' standing, which is not yet in
print— I mean the cnohantment of my mistiew Donna Dulcinea ; fw

id Ihf Díiiifli.-P. 4

n , .... I.,C001^|C

Uigniaüb, Google

MOllB OP SiKCHO's rEOYERBS. 4SÍI

joa most knoir I made bim beliere ^e was enchanted, thoDgli it ma
no more tnie than tbat the moon is a horn lantern."

The duchess desired him to teil her the porticiiiarB of that endiant-
ment or jest; and Sandio recounted the whole, exact); as it had
passed, very much to the entertainment of bis hearers. From what
ionest Sancho has told me," said the duchess, "a certain Bcrnplo
troubles me. and something whispers in mv ear, sajdng, ' Since Don
Quixote de la Mancha is such a liinatio and simpleton, surely Sanebo
Tansa, hia si^uire, «ho knows it, and yet follows and serves him,
relying □□ hia Tarn, promises, mnst be more mad than his master I
Now this being the case, it will anrely tura to l»d account, lady
duchess, if to such a Sancho Panza thou givest an island to gorern ;
for how should be who roles himself so ill, be able to goTcm
others ? ' "

" Faith, madam," qnoth Sancho. " tbat same scruple is an honest
scruple, and need not apeak in a wnisper, bat plain out, or as it lists ;
for 1 know it says true, and had I been wise, I should loni? since have
left my master;— bnt auch is my lot, or such my eril-errantry. I
cannot help it— follow him I most : we are botli of the same town, I
have eaten bis bread, I love him, and he returns my love ; he gave me
hia ass-oolts : — above all, I am faithful, so that nothine in the world
can part us bnt the sexton's spade and shoyel; and if yourhighnessdoes
not choose to give me the govcmment you promised, God made me with-
out it, and perhapa it may be all the better for my conscience it I do
not get it ; for fool as I am, I nnderatand the proverl^ ' The pismire had
winps to her sorrow ;' and perhaps it may be easier for Sancho the
aguire to get to heaven than for Sancho the governor. They make as
good bread here as in France ; and by night all cats are grey ; na-
uappy is he who has not breakfasted at three ; and no stomach is a
apan nigger than another, and may be filled, aa they say, with straw
or with Day. Of the little birds in the air, God himself takes the care :
■nd four yards of coarse cloth of Cuensa are warmer than as many oi
fino Segovia serge ; and in travelling from this world to the next th«
road is no wider for the priuco tlian tbe peasant. The pope's body
takes np no more room than that of the sexton, though a loftiet

B>rson : for in the grave we must pack close together, whether ws
te it or not : so good night to tXi. And let tne tell you agfain that,
if your highness wUl not give me the island becaaae I am a tool, I will
be wise enough not to care a Sg for it. I have heard say the devil
lorks behind the cross ; all is not gcdd that flitters. From tne plongh-
tail Bamba was raisedto the throne of Spam, and from his ricnes and
Rveia was Roderjgo cast down to he devoured by serpents— if ancient
ballads teU the truth."
"JLnd how should they lieF" said tbe duenna Bodrignet, who waa
- among the attendants. " I remember one tbat relates to a king
named Boderigo, who was shut np all alive in a tomb fnll of toads,
anakes, and lizards ; and how, after two days' imprisonment, his voice
was beaxd from the tomb, crying in a dolorous tone, ' Now liiey gnaw
me, now they gnaw me, in the part by which I sinned the most ! and
Bcrórding to this, the gentleman has much reason to say he wonld
lather be a poor labourer tJisn a king, to be devoured by sudi

Tbe dnchess was higUy unused with Baneho's proverbs and philo-
«ophy, aa well aa the siinpliaity of her dneuna. "My good Sancho

A.OOgIC

MS DOS QUtZOIX,

knows full well," t»id she " that tfae promiie of a kniifat i» heH so
sacred by him Urat he will perform it even at the expenae of lifo.
The dttke, my lord and husbaud, thongh he is not of the errant order,
is nevertheless a knight, and therefore will iníallibly keep his word b>
to tlie promised govcruiiient. Let Sancho then be of t;ood cheer; for,
in spile of the cnvv and malice of the world, bdbre be is aware of it,
he DiaySnd himself seated in the sfate chair of his island and tetTÍtor;,
and in full possession of a govermiient for which he would refuse one
of brocade three stories high. What I charge him is, to take hoed
how he governs his vassals, andforget not that they are well-bom wiá
of approved loyaltv." " As to the matter of govemina" aosweied
Sancho, "let me alone for that. lam natorall; charituile and good
to the poor, and ' None shall dare the loaf to st^ frotn him that sifts
andkoeadstlicincal;'— bymy beads! they shall put no false dieenptm
me. An eld dog is not to be coaied with a crust, and I koov bow
to snuff mt eyes and keep the cobwebs from them; for I con tell
where the shoe pinches. AH this I say to assure your hishoess that
tlie good shall have me hand and heart, while the bad shall nod neither
the one nor t'otber. And, as to governing well, the main point, in my
mind, is to make a good beginning: and, that being done, who knows
but tlutt by Iho time I have been fifteen davs a governor, my ñneens
may get so nimble in the office that they will tickle it off belter tliaa
the drudgery I was bred to in the Geld !

" You are in the right, Sancho." quoth the duchess, " for evHrythinj
wants time: men are not scholars at their birth, and bishops are
made of men, not of stoues. But, to relum to the subiect we were

i'ust now upon, concerning the tiansformation of the Uay Dulcinea;
, have reason to think that Ssnclio's artiSce to deceive hia master,
and make him believe the peasant-girl to be Dulcinea «tchanted, was,
in fact, all a contrivance of some one of the magicians who persecute
Don Quixote; for really, and in tmtli, I know fr "" — •■--

e doubt of this than of an; other things that we
never saw. i or Signor Sancho Panza must know that here also we
have oitr enclianters, who favour us and tell us faithfully all that
passes in the world : and believe me, Sancho, the jumping vench wu
really Dulcinea, and is as certainly charroed as the iriother that bore
her; and, when we least expcd, it, we sliall see her again in her own
true shape : then will Sancho discover that it was he who hai been
imposed upon, and not his master."

All that mif^ht well be," quoth Sancho; "and now I begin to
believe what my master tola of Montesinos' oave, where he saw my
lady Dulcinea del loboso in exactly the same figureand drees as whnt
it eanic into my head to enchant her, with mj own will, as I fancied,
though, as your ladjship says, it must have been quite otherwise.
Lord bless us ! How can it be supposed that my poor het^pieee
could, in an instant, have contrived so cunning a device^ or whooould
think my master such a goose as to believe so anlikely a matter, upon
no better vondier than myself! But, madam, your goodness will
know better tlum to think the worse <d me for all that. Lack-a-day 1
it cannot be expected that an ignorant lout, oa I am, should be able
to smell out the tricks and wiles of wicked magioiaus. 1 oontriTed

SAXCnO AKDSES THS DCCDE2S, 439

the tliinir with no intention to oifend my niasler, but (m\v to escape
kit cliidmg ; and, if it baa faappcncd otherwise, God is in heaven, and
He is the indge of hearts." " That is honestly spoken," quoth the
dnoheas; but, Sancho, did you not mention eomething of Monte*
sinos' caTe F I should be glad to knov what you meant." Sancho
then gate her highness an account of that adventure, 'with its ciicum*
nances, and «hen he had done, "8ee now," quoth the duchess ''if
this does not confirm what I have just said ! for, since the great Don
Quixote affirms that he saw the very same country wench «hom
Sancho met coming from Toboso, ^e eertsinly must be Dulcinea,
ftnd it shows that tbe enchanters hereabouts are very bnsy and exceB-
«vely officions."

" Well," qooth Saneho Panza, "if my lady be enchanted, w) much
tbe worse for her ; I do not ihmk. myself bound to quarrel with my
inastcf's enemies, for they must needs he many and very wicked ones
too. Still, I must say, and it cannot be denied that she I saw was a
coaetiy weneb ; acountry wench, at least, 1 took herto he, and suchl
thought her ; and, if that same lass really happened to be Dulcinea, I
am not to be called to account for it, nor ought it to be kid at my
door. Sancho, truly, would bare cnoui-h to do if he must answer for
»U, end at every turn to he told that Sancho said it, Sascho did it,
Sancho came back, Sancho returned : as if Sancho were anybody ther
pleased, and not that very Saneho Panza handed about in print aU
the world over, as Sampson Carrasco lotd me, who, at least, has been
bochelorÍEed at Salamanca ; and such persons cannot lie. unJess when
they have a mind to do so, or when it may turn to good account ; so
that there is no reason to meddle nor make with me, since 1 have a
good name, and, as 1 have heard my master say, a good name is better
thau hags uf )!oid. Case me but in that same government, and yoa
shall see wonders : for a good squire will make a good governor."

''Sancho speaks like an oracle," quoth tbe duchess; "all that ha
luis now said are so manj; sentences of Cato, or at least extracted
from tiie very morrow of Michael Verino himself— 'florentibus oeeidit
aunts:' in short, to speak in his own way, a bad cloak often covers a
¡rood drinker," " Truly, madam," answered Saneho, " 1 never in my
life drank for any bad porposej for thirst, perhaps, I have, as I am
no hypocrite. I drink when 1 want it, and if it is offered to me,
rather than be liionght ill-mannered ; for when a friend drinki one's
health, who csn be so hard-henrteci as not to pledge himf But
though J put on the shoes, they are no dirtier for me. And tmly,
there is no fear of that, for water is you common drint of squires-
errant, who are always wandering about woods, forests, meadows,
moontains, and craggy rocks, where no one meicifal drop of wine ia
lobe ^t, though tbey would give an eye for it." "In truth I believe
it," said the duchess : " bnl as it grows lute, go. Sancho, and repose
yourself, and we will talk of these matters ^un nereafter, and orders
shall speMlily be given about casing yon, oa you c^ it, m the
government.'*

Saneho again kissed the dnchess's hand, and begged of her, as a
favoiT, that good care might be token of his Dapple, for he was the
liitlit of hiseyes. " What m««n you by Dapple F '' quoth the dnchess.
" I mean my ass, please your highness," replied Sancho; " for not to
give him that name, J commonly call him Dapple ; and I desired this
good nustreaa bert^ when I first Game into the castle, to take caie of hin^

€H BOS QDIZOTB.

«triehmade her m anstr as if I had oal^ed her old and ag\j; rHia
my mind it would be more cniDer and natural for diiennas to take
ebai^of asses tbao strut about like ladies intoomsof state. Heavm
UTe me ! what k deadly grudoe « cedaia geuUsmta in our town had
for these madams." "Some Dithyclowu,! make no question," quoth
Boniift Rodhgnei, "for, hiui he beco a gentleman aad known «hat
good broediiv waa, he wonld hare plaoed ttien under the horns of the

":^<ra)th>"<inoththedocbess,"letns hare no more of this;- píaos»
Soiina Rodríguex; and rou, Sicnor Pauia, be quiet, uid leave th«
core of raakinar much of your Dapple to me ; for, beioK a jewel of
Sanclio'a, I will lay him upon the appie of my eve." " Let him lie
in the atable, my good lady," answered Sancho, for iin« the apple
of your grandeur's eye neither he nor I are wortlij to ue one aiii^
moment,— 'shfe ! they slwald stick me like a sheep aooaec than I
would ooDsent to such a thing; for thousb my master says that, in
respect to good mannen, we slioukl rather lose the game by a card too
much tban too little, yet, when the buainess in hand is about asaea
and eyes, we should atfip n-arily with compiiss in hand." "Carry
him, cancho," quoth the duohess. "to your jcorerranent, and there

Eu may reraie him as you please, and set him free ütim further
wur." " Think not, »y lady duchess," quoth Sancho, " that you
hare said much ; for I hare seen more asses than one go to goTemiuent^
and therefore, if I should carry mine, it would be nothing new." The
relish of Saucho's conversation was not lost upon the duchess, who,
after dismissins him to his repose, went to giie tlie duke an aooount
of all that had passed between them. They afterwards consulted
toeether how they ahoold practise amne jest upon Don Quisal«, 1«
humour hia knÍKht.ermntry; and indeed they densed many of that
kind, so ingenióos and appropriate aa to be accounted among the
pnoie adrentures that ocoor in this great history.

CHAPTER XXXV.

Wting an aceoml qf lit mttiitd pmcribtd ftr dUtudiaiUiiig Ue pttrUa
Dntleinta dtl Toboto / vhick it oitt qf Ikt most fanmu adttiitunt -ta
UÚ boot.

Tbe duke and dnchess were extremely direrted with the hniMais
•f their two guests; and lesojiing to improve their sport fay prao-
tising some pieasantries that ahonld have the appearance of a romantic
adventure, they contrived to dress up a vei? choice entertaininetrt
from Don Quixote's account of the cave of Montesinos ; taking that
subject, because the duchess had observed, with astonishment- Utat
Siuicho now believed his bdyDukineawes really enchanted, altAou^
be himself had been her sole enchanter ! Accordingly, aft«r the aer-
vants had been well instructed as to their deportment towards Don
Quixote, a boar-hont was pro|>oaed, and it was determined to set out
in Ave or aii days with a princely train of huntsmen. The kni^
was presented with a htuitiDg suit proper for the ocoasbn, wWolt

A.OOgIC

TBS KiÁB-Hinn. m

bewever, he dediaed, njim; tbst lie ranat Boon retnni to the sere»
dnties of ins pTofession, «roen, baniw no sumptera nm vaidcobea,
aach things would be Baperflnoos. But Siaudio readib aecepted m
Mut of fine i<i««n doth which waa cffered to him, iulenuug to sell it
tiie first opimrtiuiitT.

The appomted iter being confc Don Qiniote araed hinuelf, ud
Sancho ro húi new «nit mavnied Dapple (wbiib he prebcied to •
horse that «as offered biin) and joined the troop oí liunters. Tha
dnehess israed forth nii^oaoenli;^ attiied, and Lion Quixote, ont of
pore politeness, would hold the retns of the pallVcy, though tbe duke
TBS unwilling to aUow it. HaTing arriied at the proposed suene of
their diversicin, which was ia a wood between two loflf moontain»,
they posted theaiaelTea in places where the toils weie to be pitched j
iñd ul the part J harÍBgtnken their different stationa, the sport began
irith prodigions Doiseand olamonr, ineomochtliat, between tiesíiout»
of the hmitsmen, the cry of tbe honuda, oud the soHud of the hom^
the; eonld not hear eaok other. The dttehess aliabted, and with a
boar-spear in her hand, took her stand in a place where she expected
the boitrs would pass. The duke oad Don Quisoto disntountea abc^
and placed themselvea hj her aide; while Sancho took his station
behisd them all, with his Dapple, whoni he would not quit, lest some
mischance should befal him. Scarcely had tber ranged themselves
in order, when a hideons boar of nvmstrous siae rushed out of Eover,
pursaed b^ the dogs and hnntera, and made diiectl; towards them,
email mg his teeUi and tosaiof foam with liis motiih. Don Quiiot^
on seflinff him appraBoh, liraeed Ilia ahield, and drawing his sword,
stepped Wore the rest to meet him. The doke joined him with bis
boar-epcAT ; and the duchess would have been the foremost, had not
tbe doke prerented h^. Sancho alone stood aghast, and, at the Bisht
of the fierce aMnwl, leaving even hb Dapple, ran in terror towoida a
lofty oak, in which lie hoped to be aeoure ; but hia hopes were in
TÜn, for, as he waa struggling to reach the top, and hod got half-way
np, Dnfortonatelf a branch to which he clung gave way, and, falling
with it, he was caught b; the stamp of another, and here left sus>
pended in the air, so that he could neither get up nor down, find-
ing himself in this situation, with his new green coat tearing, and
almoet in reach of the terrible creature, should it chance to come that
way, he began to bawl so loud and to coll for help so vehemently,
that all who beatd him and did not aee him thought verilv Ite waa
betwetai tfas teeth of some wild beast. The tusked boar, however,
was aoon laid at length by the numerous spears that were levelled at
him from all sides ; at which tiioc Sanoho's cries and lamentations
mailed the cars of Don Quixote, who, tumina round, beheld blm
baDfdag from the oak with his Itnid downwards, and close by him
Btood Dapple, who never forsook iiim in adversitj ; — indeed it was
nmaiked by Cid üaraeto, that be s^om saw Sancho Panza without
Dapple, or Dapple without Sanobo Chuica : such was ilte amity and
eoniial hxre that subsisted between them I Don Quixote hastened to
theaaMstaoea of his aquiie, who was no sooner releaaed, than lie began
1o examine the lent in his banting suit, whioli grieved him to tbe
■onl ; fc« he looked npon that suit as a rich inheritance,

The huge animal they bad slain was kid across a aampter-mnlo,

nd after corering it with brauchea of rosemary and myrtle, they

.fHoried it, as the spoils of viotory, to a bige fiahlrteiit, encted in the

, , . .A.OOgIC

midst of the wood, where a íomptaoiu entertainment iras iH'cpared,
worthr of the maigiiifloeiiee oi the donor, gaucho, showing the
wonads of the torn garments to the ducheas, saiii Hod h&res or
birds been our same, I should not bsTe bad this misfortune. For m^
part, I cannot tiiiuk what pleasure tbere con be in beating about for
B monster that, if it reaches yon vith a tusk, majbetbedeathof fon.
There is an oM ballad which says, —

M>7 tate of Fablk b« thine,

And maJte the* food for bean or swine."

"That lE^bita." said Don Qniiote, " was a king of the Qoths, who,
ftoinKto the cDsse, was devoured by a bear." "What I mean," quotn
Sancho, " is, that I would not have kings and other great folks nm
into such dangers merdi for pleasure ; and indeed, methinks it onabt
to be none to kill poor treasta that never meant anj harm," " Yon
are mistaken, Sancho," said the duke ; " huntini wild beasts is the
moat proper exercise for knights and princea. The chase ia an im^
of war; tbere you have slr^agems, artifices, and ambnscadcs io M
employed, in order to overcome your enemy with safety to yoursetf ;
there, too, you are often exposed to the extremes of cold and heat;
idleness and ease are despised; the body acquires b^th and vigo-
rous activity :— in short, it is an eietcise which may be beneficial to
many and injurious to none. Besides, it is not a vnlgsr amusement^
but, like hawking, is the peculiar sport of the great. Ttierefnrti
Sancho, chanfte your opinion before yon become a governor ; for then
you will find your account in these diversions." "Not so, i' faith,"
replied Sancho ; " the good governor and tiie broken 1m should keep
at home. It would be fine indeed for people to come aflcr him ahoni
businprSS, and find him gadding in the mountains for his pleasure. At
tbat rate what would Mcomc of his governments In good truth,
sir, bunting, and such like vastimes, are rather for your idh com-
panions than for govemon. Tbe way I mean to divert myself
shall be with bra; at Easter, and at bowls on Sundays and holidaysl
aa for your hunting, it befits neither my condition nor conscience."
" Heaven grant you prove as good as yon promise," said the dnke;
" but saving and doing are oftrai vnde apart." " Be tbat as it will,
replied Sancho; "the good paymaster wants no iMwn: and God's
help is better than early rising : and the belly carries the legs, and
not the legs the belly :— I mean that, with tbe help of Heaven and a
good intention, I warrant I shall govern better uian a ^osa-hawk.
Ay, ay. let them put their fingers in my month and try whether or not
lean bite." "Acutse upon thy proverbs I" said Quixote, "when
will the day come that I shall hear thee ntter one coherent sentence
without that base intermixture P Let this blockhead alone, I beseech
your excelleucies ; he will grind your souls to death, not between
two, but two thousand proverbs — all timed as well, and as much to
the purpose, as I wish God may grant him health, or me, if I desire
tobeartbem." " Sancho Panza's proTerbs" said the duchess, "though
more numerous than those of the Greu commentator, are nqnaUy
admirable for their sententious brevity. For my own part, I mn^
confess, they give me more pleasore than many others, more iqttjy
suited and better timed."
Afl«r this and sodi-like ideasant convenation, they left the tai,

" A.OOgIC

ITHAT HAPFBKED IK TUB WOOD. OS

■nd retired into the yrooá to examine tbeir nets and marea. The daf
passed, and night came od, not clear and «dm, like the osual evening
in summer, but in ■ kind of murky twihght, extremely favourable to
the projecto of the diike and dnehess. Soon after tne close of day
the wood suddenly seemed to be in flamea on all sides, and from every
Quarter vas heard the Bound of numerous trumpets, and other mor-
tiid instruments, as if great bodies of cavalry were pwaing through
the wood. All present seemed petrified with astonisbmcnt at what
they heard and saw. To these muses others succeeded, like the
Moorish yells at the onset of battle. Tmmpets, clarioos, drums, and
fifes, were heard, all at onoe, so lond and incessant, that he must have
bees without sense who did not lose it in the midst of so discordant
and horrible a din. The duke end dncheis were alarmed, Don Quucotfl
ÍD amaeement, and Sanoho Fsjun trembled :— in short, even those
wlto were in the seeret were terrified, and eonstemation held them
all ¡D ailenee. A post-boy, habited like a fiend, now made his appear-
anee, blowing, as be passed onward, a m^mstrona born, whicu pro-
duced a hoarse and frii^htful sound.

"Ho, courier!" cried the dnke, " who are yon f Whither go yonP
And what ioJdien are those who seem to be crossing this wood F"
To which tke conriw answered in a terrific voice, " 1 am the devil,
and ND going in quest of Ben Qoiiote de la Mancha. Those vou
Úqnira about are RI troops of enchanters, conducting the peerless
Dulcinea del Toboso, accompanied by the gallant Frenohman Mon>
tesiitoSi who cornea to inform her knight by what means she is to be
rekaaed from the power of cnohantment." "If you were the devil,
as yon say, and, indeed, appear to be," quoth the fcnight, " jou woula
have known that I who now stand before yon am that same Don
Quixote de la Mancha." " Befare Heaven, and on my conscience,"
replied the devil, "in my hurry and distraction I did not see him."
"This devil," quoth Sancho, "must needs be an honest fellow, and
a good Christian, else be would not have iwora by Heaven and his
oonsotence : for my part, I verily believe there are aome good people
even in heil." The devil now, without alighting, direoted hie eye» to
Dob Quixole, ai>d said, " To thee, KjHgfat of the Lione— and msv I
see thee between their paws !— I Mn sent by the valiant bnt unfor-
tunate Montesinos, by whom I am (Brected to command thee to wait
hia «rival on the very spot wherever I should find thee. With hira
Kimea the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, in order to inform thee by what
piMiM tbon mavst dcUver her from the thraldom of enchantment.
13)on hast heara my message; Inow return; — devils like myself havo
Jbee in their keeping! and good angels that noble pair!" Al! wat)
in perplexity, but especially the uight and sgnire: Sancho to see
how Dulcinea must be enohanted in spite of plain truth, and Don
Quixote from eertun qualms respecting the truth of his adventures in
Me cave of Montesinos. Wliile he stood mosing on this subject, tbo
dnke stud to faim, "Do roa mean to wait, sjj^or Don Quixote?"
" Wbv noti" answered ne; "here wiU I wait, intrepid and finn,
thougnall hell should eome to assault me." "Dy my faith!" quoth
Sancho, " if I should see another devil, and hear another nich hom, I
will no mora stay here than in Tlandeis,"

The ni^ht now grew darker, and nnmerona lights were seen
glancing through the wood, like those exhalations which in the air
qpeailikB sbcxitíDff abu*. A dreadful noise waa likewise hegid, like

o... , xaüy away in

terrar. Tbe tunnoil, hovrever, Btill increased, for at the four quarters
of tbe wood, liostile armies seemed to be engiitged ;~here was heard
the dreadful thunder of artillery ; there volleys of innumciable mus-
<)neteers ; the ckshiuK of anus, and shouts of nearer oombatants,
joined with the MoorisE Tsr-vhoop atadistanoe; — in short, the boms,
darions. trumpets, dnuoa, cannon, niimketa, and, above all, tbe
fiÍKhtful crealuiiK of the waggons, lonned altogether, bo Iremeodous
a mn, that Don Quixote had need c^ all his oourage to stand firm, and
wait the issue. Bat Saneho's heart quite failed him, and he fell
down in a swoon at the duchess's feet. Cold water beinfr brought at
lier grace's command, it waa Eptiokled upon his faec, and his senses
returned just in time to witsefa the arrival of one of t^ ereoldn;
wamona. It waa lirawn by fooi heavy oxen, all covered with blac¿
palls, havinjc aUo a large naming torch faatend to eacb bom. ün
the floor of the wa«gon was plaeed a leaU much elevated, on whioh
aot a venerable ola man, with a beard whiter than snow, that
Rudied below his )nrdle. His vestment was a long gowu of black
booktam (for tbe carriage was so illuminated tliat everjthing mi«bt
be easily distiuiniished), and the drivers were two demons, clothed
also in btaok, and of such hideous aspect that Sancho, having
tnce seen tbem, shut bia eyea, and would not venture uptu a
■eeond look.

When the va^on bad arrived oppoát« the partj, the venerable
person within it arose from hia seat, and, stráding erect, with a
■olemn voice, he aaid, " X am the sage Lirgandeo." He then sat
down, and the wa^on went forward. After that another wag^oii
passed in tbe same manner, with another old man aithroned, who,
when the carriaire atopped. arose, and, in a voice no less solemn, said.
" I am the sage Alqiufe, the great friend of Uiiiflnda tbe unknown.
He passed on, and a third waggon advanced at the sarae pace ; but
llie person seated on the throne was not an old man, like tlie two
former, bnt a man of robust form and ill-favoured countenance, who^
when he came near, stood up as the others bad done, and said, nith a
voice boaise and ¿iabohcal, " I am Arcolaus. tbe enchanter, mortal
enemy of Amodis de Gaul, and all his race, and immediately pro-
ceeded onward. The three waggons halting at a little distance, the
painful noise of tbeir wheels ceased, and it v&s followed by the sweet
and harmonious sounds of music, delightful to Sancbo's ears, who
taking it for a favourable omen, said to the duchess (from whose side
be had not stirred on inch), " Where there is music, madam, there
can be no mischief." " Ño, nor where there is hght and splendour,"
answered the duchess. " Flame may give light." replied Sancho^
" and bonfires may illuminate ; yet we may easily be burnt bv them ;
but music is alwoys a sign of feasting and mcmmeut." " Ihat will
be seen presently," quoth Don Quiiote, who was listening; and be
said right, for it will be found in the next chapter.

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTER XXIVL

.D white, ind holding a lighted torch u.

than double the size of tne othcra which had jiBssed, and twelve
ponitestB were ranged in order within it, all canyuig lighted torohea :
a sight which at ooce cansed surpriie and terror. Upon an elevated
throne sat a nvinpli, covered with a thousand veils of silver tisane,
bespangled with innumerable ñowera of gold, so that her dress, if not
rich, WHB gaf and glittering. Over her head was thrown a traitsparent
gatúe, so thm that throngn ita folds might be seen a most beaotifid
face ¡ and from the nmltitude of lights, it was easy to disoem that she
was Tonng aa well »s beantiíul ; for she was evidently under twenty
jearsof age, thoogh not less than seventeen. Close byner sat afigora
clad in a magninoent robe, reaching to the feet, having his nead
covered with a black veil Tbe moment this vast machuie arrived
opposite to where tiie dnke and duchess and Don Qniiote stood, the
attending music ceased, as well as the harps and Intes within the car.
The fignre in the gown then stood up, and throwing open the robe
and unoQverii^ his face, dispkved the ghastly conntenance of death,
looking so terrific that Don Qniiote started, Sancho was stmcE
with terror, and even the dnke and daehess seemed to betrajr some
""* " * ' ■ * a dull and

1, miscalled üie dovil'a i

iUvBl at eniiaiiB ague, that tumÚ hide
Tba gloriooa deeds of arrant otivaliera,
Favonr'd bj ma and mj peculiar charge,
Though Vila enclianton, lull on misoluef bent.

la bad^'a cbamhers, «here mj bnided ghost
Was forming spella and TU'ptia eharacterfl.

• In England also to be olothod in a white sheot, and bear a candle 01
torch in tha hand, ia a penance ; and in the «amo manner the ' ' amandi
bononble" iaperibnoed InFranoa.

DON QVIXQTB.

From high-barn bauity íd a palaM graoed.

To the loathed teoturee of a eottago wcnih :
With s;mpatfaÍBÍDg grief I straight revolved
The numeroiu tomes of my detested art,
And in tha hollolr of this skeleton
M]P aoiil inclosing, hither am 1 coma,
To teUthoeureoirocfaur ""-

¡shod Bteel aad fcnceful adaiiuuit I
ght, beacon, polar star, and glorious glúde
fall «ho, starting from the laty down,

' 'gnoble sleep fiir tlie rude loll

ish ignol

Spain 'b
Whose

Lnp pun

X

Th' enchanted dame, ^ncho, thy laithful «qnire,

Three thousand and three hundred atripee a^ly.
Such as may slJng and give him smarting pam :
The anchors of her change have thus dei^esd.
And (his is Uerlin's errand from the shades."

"What!" quoth Sancho, "three thousand Iwhes! Odd's-fleih!
I tviU as soon give myself three stabs aa three siuale lashea— mnch
leu three thonaasd ! The devil take this way of dtsencbafitiog ! I
cnmiot see what my buttocks have to do with euchaittments. Before
HeaTen ! if siguor Merlin can find out no other way to disendiant
the lad^ Dulcinea dei Toboso, encbanted she may go to her gave
for me!" "Not lash thyaeli! thou girlio-ealing wretch!" quoth
DoD Quixote ; " I shall take thee to a tree, and tie thee naked as
thoQ wert born, and there, not three thouisand and three hundred, bat
six thousand six hundred kshes will 1 give thee, and tbose so well
laid on tbat three thousand three hundred hard tugs shall not tug
them off. So answer me not a word, scoundrel ! for I will t«ar tbf
very sold out!" "It must not be so," said Merlin; "the lashes
that honest Sancho is to receive must not be apphed by force, but
with his good will, and at whatever time he pleases, for no term is
Oied : and furthermore, be is ellawcil, if he please, to save himself
half tbe trouble of applying so many Lishes, by having half the num-
ber laid on by another hand, provided that hand he somewhat heavier
tban his own." " Ncilbcr another hand nor my own," i^oth Soncbo,
" no hani either heavy or light, shall touch my Be^. Was the lady
Dulcinea brought forth by me, that my posteriort must pay for
the transgressions of her e/es? Mv master, indeed, who is part of
her. since at ever^ step he ¡s calling tier his life, his soul, his snpport,
ana stay — he it is who ought to lash himself for bcr, and do all
that is needful for her dehvery ; but for me to «b¡p myself— no, I
pronounce it ! "

No sooner had Sancho thus declared bimsclA than the spangled
nymph who sat by the side of Merlin nroac, and throwing asideher
veil, discovered a face of extraordinary beauty ; and with a masculine
ab-, and no very amiable voice, addressed herself to Saudio: "O
wiftchod squire — with no more soul tlian a pit^eri Ihou heart of
cork and bonds of Hint! budst thou been required, uoM-slittiuf

A.OOgIC

USTBOD rOB SISEKCHAXTIKG SDIX^IIIBA. 437

tbief! to thnnr tb^wlf from some high tower ^ hadst thon been
desired, enemj of hnnrnn kind ! to eat a dozen of toads, tvo dozen of
lizards, and three dozen of snakes ; badst thou hecD requested to kUl
thjwifeaud cliildren vitlisomebloodj^andshaipscimitw— no wonder
if thoa hadst betrayed some squeamislmess ; but to hesitate about
three thousand three hundred kshes, which there is not a wretched
school-boy but receives every month, it amazes, stupifies, and affrighta
the tender bowels of ail who hear it, and even of aU who shall here-
after be told it. Cast, thon marble -hearted wretch !— cast, 1 say,
tfaose hnge go^le eyes upon these lovely balls of mintL that shine
like sLttering stars, and thou wilt see them weep, drop by drop, and
stream after stream, making furrows, tracks, and paths down these
beautiful cheeks! Relent, malicious and evil-minded monster! be
moved by my bloominii youth, which, though yet in its teens, is pining
and withenn;; beneath the vile bark of a peasant -wench ; and if at
this moment I appear otherwise, it is by the special fovour of Sifpoe
Merlin, here present, hoping that these charms may soften that mm
heart ; for the team of afflicted beauty turn rocks into cotton, and
timers into lambs. Lash, untamed beast ! lash away on that brawny
flesh of thine, and rouse from that base sloth which only inclines thee
to eat and eat again ; and restore to me the delicacy oi my skin, the
sweetness of my temper, and all the charms of beañty ■ and if for my
sake thou wiU not be molliRed into reasonable compliance, let the
asgnish of that miserable knight stir thee to compassion— thy master
I mean, whose soul I see sticking crosswise in his throat, not ten
indies from his lips, waiting only thy cruel or kind answer either to
fly ont of his month, or return jovfuUy into his bosom."

Don Quixote here putting his finger to his throat, " Before
Heaven ! " said he^ " Dulcinea is n^ht, for 1 here feel my soul stick-
ing in my throat, hke the stopper of a cross-bow!" "What say you
to that, Sajicho?" qnoth the duchess. "I say, madam," answered
Sancho, "what I have already said, that, as to the kshes, I pronounce
them." " Renounce, yon should say, Sancho," qnoth the duke, and
not 'prononnce,' " Please vour grandeur to let me alone," replied
Sancho, " for I cannot stana now to a letter more or less : these
lashes so torment me that I know not what I say or do. But I
would fain know one thing from the ladv Dulcinea del Toboso, and
that is¡ where she lesmt her manner of asking a favour ? She comes
to desire me to tear my flesh with stripes, and at the sanie time
lays opon me snch a bead-roll of ill names that the devil may
bev them for me. What! does she think my flesh is made of brass?
OF that I care a rush whether she is enchanted oi not I Where are
the orients she has brought to soften me!* Instead of abasketof
fine linen shirts, night-eaps and soeks (though I wear none), here is
nothing hut abuse. Every one knows that 'the gohien load is a
burthen light ;' that ' gifts will make their way through stone walls ! '
'pray devontlyandh^meron stoutly ;' andone 'take' isnorthtwo
'I'll (rive thee's.' There's his worship my master, too, instead of
wheedling and coaxing me to make myself wool and corded cotlon.
threatens to tie me stark naked to a tree and doable the dose oi
stripes. These tender-hearted gentlefolks ought to remember too
that they not only desire to have a sqnire whipped, hut apovemor,
making no more of it than saying, ' drink with your cherncs.' Let
tiuaa leam— plague take theml let them kant how to ask and
A.OOgIC

1S8 "DO" QUnOTE.

entreat, and mind their breeding. All times are not alike, nor are
men alwaya in a butnonr for all tbin^. At this moment my heart is
ready to onret with irie! to see tha rent in my jacket, and people
«ome to desire that I would &bo tear in][ flesh, and that, liw, of my
own itood'Will : I have just as much mind to the thing as lo torn
Turk*

" In truth, friend SancbOj" said the duke, "if yon do not rdent
and become softer than a npe fig, yon finger no govermnent of mine.
It would be a fine thing, inaeed, were 1 to send my good islanders a
cruel, flintr-heaited tyrant, whom neither the tears of afBieted damsels
nor the aJmonitions of wise, reverend, and ancient enebanlers can
move to compassion ! Realit Sancho, 1 am compelled to say — no
stripes no government." "May I not be allowed two days, my
lori" qnoth Sancho, "tooonsiderwhat is best for método?" In
no wise can that be," cried Merim; "on this s^t and at this
instant ^u most determine; for Dulcinea must either return to
Monteamos" cave and to her rustic sliape, or in her present form bo
carried to the Elysian fields, there to watt until the penance be com-
pleted." "Come, friend Sanciio," said the duchess, "be of good
cbeer, and show yoorself grateful to your master, wiwse bread you
have eaten, and to whose generous nature and noble feats ttf chivalry
we are all so much beholden. Come, my son, give your consent, and
let tbe devil go to the devil; leave fear to the cowardly; a good
heart breaks bad fortune, as you well know."

" Hark jon. Signer Merlin," quoth Sancho, addressing himself to
the sage: "pray will you tell me one tbin^^how comes it about
that the devil courier just now brought a message to my master from
Signor Montesinos, saying that he would be here anon, to give direc-
tions about this discncliantment ; and yet we have seen nothing (^
them all this while P" "Pshaw! replied Merlin, "the devil is an ass
and a lying rascal; he was sent from me and not from Montesinos,
who is still in his cave contrii-ing, or rather awaiting, the cud of his
enijiantmeat, for the tail is yet nnflayed. If he owes you money,
or you have any other business with him, he shall be fortheeming in
a trice, when and where yon think fit ; and theiefom come to a
decision, and consent to this small penance, from which both yiwr
soul and body will receive marvellous benefit ; your soul by an act
of charitv, and your body by a wholesome and timely blood-letting."
" How the world swarms with dootots," quoth Sancho, " the very
enchanters seem to be of the trade ! Well, since everjibody tells me
so, though the thing is out of all reason, I promise to give niyself the
three thousand three hundred lashes, upon condititm that Imay lay
them on whenever 1 please, without being tied to days or times;
and I will endeavour to get out of debt as soon as I jiossibly can,
that the beauty of my la^ Dulcinea del Toboso may shine forth to
all the world; as it seems she is really beautiful, which ] much
doubted. Anotherconditionis.thatl will not be bound to draw blood,
and if some lashes happen only to fiy-flap, they shall all po into the
account. Moreover, if I should mistake in the reckon mg. Signer
Herlin here, who knows everj'thing, shall give mo notice how many I
want, or have exceeded."

" As for the execedings, there is no need of keeping accosnt of
them," answered Merlin ; " for when the number is completed, that
instant will the lady Dnldnea del ToboM be diseadumfaea,' and aome
A.OOgIC

autcHo coximns to do nstxcm. tsa

foL <á gratitude in geardi of good Sanclio, to thimi and eren
nwud nim for the generoua deed. So that no scruples are neces-
B«r7 abont surpLua «ad deficiency; and Hettren forbid tbaC I sbould
allow anj bodj to be chested of a ungle hair of their head." " Go to.
then, in Gods name," quotli Sancho, "I must snbnit to mr ill
forttme : 1 say I consent to the penaace upon the conditions I Wo
mentioned."

No sooaer had Sanobo prononnoed liia eonsent than the innnmer»-
able instruments poureii forth tbár miuic, the volleys of muaquetry
were disehaiged, vhiie Uon Quísote clung abont Saucbo's necl^

SVing bim, oa his forehead and brawny «jieeks, a thousand kisses:
e duke and duchess, and all who were presen^ likewise testified
their saiitraction. The car notr moved on, and in departing the fair
Dulcinea bowed her head to the duke and dnobess, and made a low
curtsey to Sancho.

By this time the ebeeifol and jqyoos dawn began to appear, the
flowreU of the field ezponikd their frogmat beauties to toe )tg;lit,
and brooks and stream^ in gentle murmura, ran to ])ay «pectins
rivers in their crystal tribute. The earth rejoiced, the sky was clear,
and the úr serene and calm ; all, combmñl and separately, nving
manifest tokens that the day, whicn. followed fast upon Aurora sueel^
would he bright and fair. The duke and duchesa, having h^pily
eiecuted their in^nious project, retnmed hiphly gratified to tbeir
castle, and determined on the ooiitianation of uotiODS which afforded

CHAPTER XlXVn.

W&trtin tt rajonlat li< tímn^ and tneonciivaiU adMtUun qf A^ ill-uttd

dttenna, er lU toimieii <tf Tritaldíí and iHttriie SaiuAo Paitta'i USer
lo iHt igi/» XtntOtPmiwi.

Tub whole contrivance of the last adventure was the work of
the duke's. steward: a man of a humoreux and Sections 'turn of
mind. He it was who composed the verses, instructed a page to

Serform the part of Suldnea, and personated himself the shade of
lerlin. Assisted by the dukasnd duchess, he now prepared another
scene still more entertaining than the fonner.

penance for the r^ef of his unhappy lady. " By my faith, Ihave,"
said he, " for last night I. nave myself five lashes. The duchess
desired to know how he had criven them. "With the palm of mj
hand," said he. "That," replied the duchess, "is rather clappiiiK
tbu vhipping, and I am of opimon Signer Merlin will not be so
easily satined. My good Sancho must get a rod of briars or of whip-
cord, that_ the stroses majf be followed by sufficient smarting; for
letteis written in blood cdñiiot be disputed, and the deliverance of a
great lady like Dulcinea is not to be purchased with a gone."
*' Give me then, madam, some rod or bough," quoth Sancho, " and
I will use it, if it does not smart too much i for I wouhl hare yoni

Isdysh^) know that, though I am a clavm, mj flesli hss more of the
cotton than of the rush, and there ia no reason vhv I should fiajr
myself for other folks' gain." " Fear not," anawered the dachess,
" it shall be ¡nj care to provide voa vith a whip that shall suit fou
eiactl;, and igme with the tenaemeas of vour flesh as if it were its
own brother." "But now, my dear lady," quoth Sancho, "yon
must know that I have written a letter to my wife Teresa Fanza,

g'ving her an account of all that has befallen me linee I parted from
¡T : — liere it ia in my bosom, and it wants nothing hut the name on
the outside. I wish joai discretion would rend it, for methinks it is
written like a governor— I mean in tlie manner that governors oodit
to write." "And who indited it?" demanded the duchess. "Who
should indite it but 1 myself, sinner as I am?" replied Sancho,
"And did jou write it too? said the duchess. "No, indeed,"
answered Sancho, "fot I can neither read nor write though I caa
set my mart." " Let ns see it," said the dnchesa, for 1 dare say
it shows the quality and extent of your genius," Sancho took the
letter out of his bráom, unsealed it, and tlie duchess having taken it,
read as foilows ; —

BAHCHO ííSZí'b LnTEB TO HIH WIFE TCBESA FAKZA.

tíiou wilt. Thou must know, Teresa, that f am determined that
thou shalt ride in thy coach, which is samewliat to the purpose ; for
all other wai^ of goina are no better than creeping upon all fours,
like a cat. Thou shalt be a eovcmor's wife ; see then whether Buy.

body wui dare to tread on tny heeü. I here send thee a ereen
bunting-suit, which my lady duchess gave me : fit it up so that it
e our daughter for a jarket and petticoat. They s

thj^ countiT that my master Bon Quiiote is a sensible madman and
a pleasant fool, anduiatlamnota whit behind him. We have been in
llontesinoa' cave, and the sage Merlin, the wizard, has pitched upon
me to disenchant the lady Dulcinea del Toboso, wiio among jou is
c^ed Aldonza JjOrenzo. When I have given myself three thousand
and three hundred lashes, lacking five, she will be as free from
enchantment as the mother that bora her. Say nothing of this to
anybody; for, bring your affairs into council, and one will cry it is
white, another, it is bkck. A few days hence I shall go to the
government, whither I go with a huge desire to get money ; and I
am told it is the same with all new governors. I wilJ first see
how matters stand, and send thee word whether or not thou shalt
oome \o me. D^pb is well, and sends thee his hearty scrrioe ; mirt
with him I will not, though I were to be made the ^eat Turk. The
duchess, mj miatres^ kisses thy hands a thousand times over ; return
her two thousand ; for, as my master sajs, nothing is cheaper than
civil words, God nas not been pleased to throw in my way another
portmanteau, and another hundred crowns, as once before ; but take
no heed, my dear Teresa, for he that has the game in his hand need
not mind the losa of a trick— the government wiQ make up for all.
One thing onlv troubles me ; I am told if I once try it I shall eat my
very fingers aKer it ¡ and if so, it will not be mnch of a baigain:

A.OOgIC

TSaiLDTS'Ot TUB -WHITE BXl&D. Ml

though indeed, the crippled and maimed enjer a petty-canonry in the
alms they receive ; so that, one way or another, thou art aure to be
rich and nappf. God send it may be so — as ho easily oui, and keep
me foi thy sake.

" Thy hosband, the ggvenwr,

" From this Costls^ the 30Ü1 of Jnly, 1614"

The duchess having read the letter, said to Sancho, " In two things
the good governor is a little out of the wav : the one in saying, or
insinuating, that this oovemmeut is coDferred on him on account (J
the lashes lie is to give tiimself ; 'whereas h^oasnot deny, for he knows
it well, that, vhenmykrd duke promised it to him, nobody dreamtof
lasbes : the other is, that he appears to be covetous, and I hope no
harm may come of it ; for avance bursts the bag, and the covetous
governor doeth angovemed justice," " Truly, madam, tliat is not my
meaning," repUed Sancho ; " and, if your highness does not like this
letter, it is but tearing it, and writing a new one, which, mayhap, may
prove worse, if left to thy mendbg-." " No, no," repli¿l the duchess,
this is a very good one, and the duke shall see it."
They then repaired toagKden, where they were to lünefhat day¡
and there Sancno's letter was shown to the duke, who read it ivith
great pleasure. After dinner, as Sancho was entertaining the oom-
pany with some of his relishing conversation, they suddenly heard the
dismal sound uf an unbraced arum, aecompanied by a flfe. Ail were
surprised at this martial and doleful harmony, especially Don Quixote,
who was so agitated that he could scarcely keep his seat. As for
Sancho, it is enougli to say that íear carried him to his usual refuge
which was the duchess's side, or the skirts of hei petticoat ; for the
sounds which they heard were truly dismal and melancholy. Whilo
they were thus held in suspense, two yonng men, clad in mourning
Tobes trailing upon the ground, entered tne gió^üen, each of them beat-
ing a great wuni. covered also with black ; and with these a third,
«laying on the file, in mouming hke the rest. These were followed
y a person of gigantic stature, not dressed, but rather enveloped, in
arobeof the blackest dye, the train whereofwasof immoderate length,
and over it ho wore a broad bbck belt, in which was slung a mighty
scimitar, enclosed within a sable scabbard. His face was covered
by a thin blaok veil, through whicli mieht be discovered a long beard,
white as snow. He marched forward, regulating his steps to the
sound of the drums, with much gravity aod stateliness. In short, his
dark roba his enormous bulk, his solemn deportment, and the funeral

gloom of his figure, together with his attendants, might well produoe
le surprise that appeared ctD every countenance.
With all imaginable respect and formality he approached and knelt
down before the duke, who received him standing, and would in no
wise sulTer him to speak till he rose up. The monstrous apparition,
then rising, lifted up his veil, and exposed to view his fearful length
of beard— tie bngest. whitest, and most luxuriant that ever human
eyes beheld ; when, fixing his eyes' on the duke, in a voice grave and
sonorous,^ he said, "Most high and potent lord, my name is TriTaldin
of the White Beard, and I am squire to the Countess Trifaldi, other-

A.OOgIC

148 jxm «nxoiE. '

trise called the Afflicted Doenua, from iriioni I bear a messan to jonr
])i^lmess, teqnesttng that you inll be pleased to give her ladVship per-
mission to a;^nMcli, aad lelate to jom magnificence the unHsppy and
wonderful circumstBuces of her niisfortunc. Eut, first, she desires to
know whether t^e valorous and- invincible Rnight Don. Quixote de la
Mancha resides at tbis time in jour oastle ; lor in quest of him she
has travelled on foot, sjid fasting, &om the kingdom of Gandaya to
this your territory ; an exertdoa miraoubo» uid inorediblfi, were it
not wrought by enchantment. Slie is nowr at tlie outward gate of this
OBstle, and only waits your higboess's imitation to enier."

Havingsaid tMe, he nelamea, stroked his beard Front top to bottom,
and with much grsTity and composure stood «ipoctiDg t^ dufce's
answer, whiob was to tliis effect ; " Worthy aWaidin of- the White
Beard, long since lisve we been apprised of the aiBietiotu of my lady
the Countess Trifnidi, who, tbrouga the malice of eachanters, is too
truly callea the Doloreue Duenna r tell iier, therefore' stupendous
squire, that she may enter, and that the valiant- knight Don Quixote
deUManchaiB here present, from whose generous assistance ^ nay
safely promise herself all tlis redress she requires. Tell her also that,
if mr aid be ueccBsarj, she majr command my serrices, since, as n
kni^ght, I am bound to protect all women, more especially iiyuced and
afflicted matrons like her ladyship" Trifaldin, on receirina the
duke's tuiawer, bent one Imee to the ground, then giving a signal to
bis musical attendants, he retired with the same sdemnity as he
entered, leaving tii in ast«mshment at the majesty of his figure and
deportaent.

The duke then toming to Don Quixote, said,- "It is evident, sir
knight, that neither the clouds of malice nor of ignorance can obacore
the light of your valour and virtue ; six days We scaroelv elapsed
sinee yon have boooned this castle with your presence, ana, behold,
the afoicted and oppressed fiock hither in quest of you from far dis-
tcmt countries ; sot in coaches, or upon dmmedaries, but on foot, and
fasting I — such is their confidence inthe strength of that arm the fame
whereof spreads over the whole face of the earth!" "I wish, my
lord duke, answered Don Quixote, " that holy pereon, who but a few
days since expressed hüneell witjl so mnidi acrimoHy against knigjita-
erran^ were now here, that he might have ascertained, with his own
eyes, whether or not suoh knights were necessary in the world; si
least be would be forced to ackiiowledge tliat the afflicted and discon-
solate, in eitraordinu'y cases and ia overwhelming calamities, fly not
for relief to the houses of scholars, nor to village priests, nor to the
country gentleman, who never travels out of siaht of his own domain,
nor to the lazy oourtier, who rather inouires after news to tell again
than endeavours to perform deeds wortliy of being related by others.
No — remedy for the iiyured, support for the distroased, protection for
damsels, and consolatioD for widows, are nowhere so readily to be
found as among knights-errant; and, that J amone,! give infinite
thanks to Ueaven, and shall not repine at any hardships or evils that
I may endure in so honourable a vocation. Let the afflicted lad;
come forward and make known her request, and be it whatever it may,
she mav rely on the strength of this arm, and the resolute courage of
my souL"

CHAPTER XXIVm.

I» vhitK a «ButiiHmt the fiaumt advmtitrt of the afflieted ¿nomo.

Ths duke and dnchc» were ertremelir delighted to find Don
Quixote wToi^t op isto a inood bo favonriMe to ibeir desi^ ; but
SaKchowas not so well satisfied. "IshoutóbeBony^" said iie, "that
thii madflm duenna should lay anv stnm Wing-Hock in- the way at my
promiaed govenunent ; foi I hace heard an apothecai? of Toledo, who
talked like an? giddfindi, saj' that no good - ever nomes of meddlbg
with dnmias. Odds 'say life J what an enemy to them was that npo-
tJiecaiy f 1^ tbwi, dueiina»«f evetr quality and-condition are trouble-
■omeind-imiieTtinentjWhatinuirt tnoaebewhocomeinthe dolánunsf
which seems to be tJM case with this same Coutiteas Three-skirts, ot
ITiree^ails — ft» ekitts and t^s, in my conntT?, are all one," " Hold
tiiy peM», Sanfaw,"' said Don Quiiote ; " for as this lady duemia
comet in qnsctof BMfMm toiemote a eotmtrr, she cannot be one of
those who fall nnder that apothecary's diapleasiire. Besides, thou
must have noticed that this lady is a countess ; and when countesses
serve asdnennas, it mnst be as (tttendants upon queens and empresses;
haying houses of their own, where thej command, and are seized by
other duennas." "Yes, in sooth, so it is,"jaid Donna Bodrignes
(who was present) ; " and my lady dachess has duennas in her service
who might have been countesses themselves had it pleased fortune ;
but 'ÍÍBMa go OB -kings' errands -,' and let no one sped: iU of duennas,
espedaU; of ancient maiden ones ) for, ^oi^h I am not of that num-
"" T, yet I can easily conceive the advantage B maiden duenna has over

B that ie a -widow,- liDt tet them tcke heed, for be who attempts to

ip OB wiB be left with the shears in his hand,"
ior all that," replied-Sanriio, "bereis atill so mnclr to be sheared
tibont ytnu dncnnas, as my barber tells me, that it is better not to stir
the rice thongh it mim to the pot." "These sqaires," quoth Donna
Eodrifuei, "are our sworn enemies; and being, as-it were, erilmirita
that prowl about ante-chambers, continually watching ns the honrs
tiiey arenot at their bead»— which sire not a few— they can find no
other pastime thanrerilins us: and wiU dtguponrbonesoDly lo give
anoth»' deathUow to our reputations, But let me tell these jesters
that, in nite of their flouts, -we shall live in the world— ay, and in the
best fanuliea I'M, though we starve for it, and cover our delicate, or not
delicate bodies, with black weeds, as don gh^ are sometimes covered
witii tapestry on a procession day. Foul simderers ! — by myfaitli, if I
were aiwwed, and the occasion required it, I would prove to all here
present, and to the wh<Je world besides, that there is no virtue that is
wA contained in a duenna." " I am ot opinion," quoth the duchess,
" that my good Donna Rodrignez is very much in the right ¡ but she
must wait for a more proper opportunity to finish the debate, and con-
fute and confound the calumnies of that wicked apothecary, and also
to root out the ill opinion which (he great Sancho fosters in his
breast." "I care not to dispute with her," qooth Sancho, "for, ever

^'V,

«i SOK «IttZOTE.

BÜtce the fnBiea of gormment havegot ¡uto mv head, I hare gívm
up all m.v squúesbip uotiona, and oare not a 6s tor all the daeimaa m

the world."

This dialogue about duetmaa would hare continiied, had not the
sound of the drum and fife announced the approach of the afflicted
lady. The duchess asked llic duke whether it «ould not beproperfor
him to go and meet tier, sioeeahe was a eotmtess^ and a person of
qoalitjr. "Look you," quoth 8ancho before the duke codm answer.

in n^ard to her being a countess, it is fitting jonr highness should
go to receive her i but, ioasmueh as she is a duenna, I am of c^inioa
joa should not stir a step." "Who desires thee to intermedio
in tilia matter, Sancho P" said Don Quixote. "Who, sir," answered
Sancho, " but I in^Bclf F hare I not a right to inteimeddlc, being ft
«quire, n'lio has Icamed the rales of good manners in the achooi of
jour worship F Have I not had the flower of courtesy for my master,
who has often told me that one may as well lose the game by a card
too much as~a card too little ; and a wonl is enough to the wúe."
"Sancho is right," quoth the duke; "but let ns see what kind of a
conntess this is, and then we shall judge what courtesy is due to her."
The drums and fife now -advanced as before— but here the author
ended tliia short chapter, and began another with the continnation of
the sfune adrcntuic, whun is one ^ the moat remai^aUa ki the history.

CHAPTER XXXII.

WkiA eomaiiu A* ammtnt i/iven bf [At afild)¿ dunita iif ker

The doleful nmsiciaiis were followed bj; tirelvo daennaa, in two
ranks, clad in huge moutninK robes, seemingly of milled seiite, and
covered with white veils of thin muslin that almost reaobed to their
feet. Then came the Countess Trifkldi herself, led by ber squire
Trifaldin of tha white beard. She was clad in a robe of the finest
serge, which, had it been oapped, eaoh grain would have been of the
size of a good ronceval pea. The tcain, or tail (call it by either name),
was divided into three separate portions. Mid supported by three
pages, and spread out, making a regular malhematical figure with
t!v^ ^"S'esi whence it was comectured ^e obtained the name of
Tnfaldi^ or Three-skills. Indeed Beneageli say* that wae the fact ;
lier real name being countess of Lobuna* or Wolfland, fnmi tbe mul-
titude of wolves produced in that earldom : asd, had they been foiea
instead of wolves, she would have been styled Countess Zorruna,
according to the custom of those nations for the great to take their
titles from the things with which the country most abounded. This
great countess, however, was induced, from the singular form of her
pirmenU, to eicliange her oriftinal title (rf Lobnna for that of Tri-
laldi. The twelve duennas, with the ladv, advanced slowly in pro-
cession, having their faces covered with black reils— not transparent,
like that of the sijuiie Tri^din, but so thick that nothing could be
seen tluongh them

í BATT&UON Oí DTFEHVAS. 44&

Ontbe spprottch of fías battalion. oC daennas, the dnle, dncliess,
Don Qiiiiote, and all the other speotaton, rose mm their seats ; ana
now the attendant duennas halted, and, separatini^, opened a passa^
through which their afflicted lady, atilt led by the squire Trifaldin,
advanned towards the noble partj, who stepped some doien paces
forward to receive her. She tnea cast horaelf on her knees, and, with
a voice rather harsh and coarse, than clear and delicate, «aid, " I
«itreat jour graces will not coadcscend to so much coartes^ to this
your valet — I meui your handmaid; for my mind, already bewildered
with affliction- will only be still more oonfounded. AJas ! my un-
paralleled misfortnne has seizeti and carried off my nnderstandmg, I
know not whither ; bat surely it mnst be to a great distance, for the
more I seek it the further it seems from me." " He must be wholly
destitute of onderstandinit, ladj countess," qooth the duke, "who
could not discera your merit by your person, which alone claims all
the cream of courtesy asd all ttic flower of well-bred ceremony."
Then t^ing her by the hand, he led her to a chair close by the
duchess, who also received her with much politeness.

During the oeremony Don Qaiiote was silent, and Sancho dying
with impatience to see the face of the Trifaldi, or of some one of her
many duennas ; but it was impossible, till the^ chose to nnveil them-
selves. All was expectation, and not a whisper was heard, til! at
length, the afflicted lady bcfran in these worifa: " Confident I am,
most potent lord, most beautiful lady, and most discreet spectators,
that my most unfortunate miseraUeness will find, in yonr generous
and compassionate bowels, a most merciful sanctuary ; for so doleful
and dolorous is my wretched state that it is sufficient to mollify mar-
ble, to soften adamant, and melt down the steel of the.hardest hearts.
But, before the rehearsal of ay misfortunes is commenced on the

f labile stag« of vonr hearing faculties, I earnestly desire to be in-
ormed whether uiis noble circle bo adorned by that renownedissimo

knight, Don Quixote de h Wancliiasima, and his aqnirissimo Panza."
" That same tama," said Sancho, before any other could answer,
" stands here before j;ou_, and abo Don Quiiotissioio; and therefore,
most dolorous duennisaiina, say what you willissima ; for we are all
reiidy to be your most bumble scrvantissimos."

Upon this Bou Quixote stood up, and, addressing himself to the
doleful eonstesa, he said ; " If yonr misfortunes, aiRicted lady, can
admit of remedy from the valour or fortitude rf a knight-errant^he
little all that I possess shall be employed in your service. I am Don
Quinóte de hi Mancha, whose function it is to relieve every species of
distress; yon. need not, therefore, madam, implore benevolence, nor
have recourse tJD preambles, but plainly, and without circumlocution,
decUre jour grievances, for you liave auditors who will bestow com-
miseration if not redress." On hearing this the afflicted duenna
attempted to throw herself at Don Quixote's feet — in truth she did
so, and, strugglii^ to kiss them, said : " I prostrate myselt O invin-
cible kniffht, Defore those feet and legs, which arc the bases and
pillars of Inight-errautryj and will kiss these feet, whose steps lead
to the end and termination of my misfortunes! 0 valorons knight-
errant, whose true exploits surpass and obscure the fabulous feats of
the Amadises, Hsplandians, end Belianises of old ! "

Then, leaving Don Quixote, she turned to Sancho Panza, end taking

him by the hand, said : " 0 thou, the most trust; squire that ever

, , . .A.OOgIC

servEd knig1it-«TTant in praaent or ■past ages, irliow goodness is of
greater extent tban that beard of my usher Trífeldis; well m^eet
thou bonst that, in aerving Don Quixote, tlioa doat «cne, in cpitotD^
all the kniglits-errast that erer shone m the aDnaU of dihalpr 1 1
conjure tliee. by thy natural benevolence and invicJable fidelity, to
intercede witn toy lord in my behalf, that tbc light of his &Toai may
forthwith shine upon the humblest acd unhappicst of countesses.
To which Sancho answered : " ^V'heiher my goodness, madam coun-
tess, be, or be Dot, as long and as broad m youi squire's heard, is no
coucem of niine ; so that my soul be well bearded and whiakoed
when it departs this life, I care little or nothing for beards here
below : but, without all this coaxin? and beseeching, I will iiut ¡a a
word for you to my master, who I tnow has a Jundaeasfor me;
hesidea, just now he stands in need of me about a certain butiuess —
80 take my word for it, he shall do what he can for joti. Kow pmy
unload your griefs, madam ; let us bear all yOH have (o a^, and leave
us to manage the matter."

The duke and duchess could scarcely praserre tbeir gnmtr on
seeing this adventure take so pleassQt a turá, and were highly pleucd
with the ingenuity and good management of the Countess TriEald^
who retnmmg la her seat, thus began her tale of sorrow : " The
famous kingdom of Candava, which Ilea between the great Taprobaua
and the South Sea, two leagues hevond Cape Comorin, had for its
qaeen the lady Donna Maguncia, widow of king Ardiipiela, who died
leaving the Infanta Antonomasia, tbeir only child, heireu to the
crown. This princess was biouKht np and educatea nnder m^ care
and instruction ; I being the eldest and chief of the duennas in the
household of her roval mother. Now, in process of time the yonnx
Antoaoniasia arrived at the age of fourteen, with such perfection m
beauty tliat nature could not raise it a pitch higher; and, what ia
more, discretion itself was bnt a child to her; for she was as discreet
as fair, and she was the fairest creature living ; and so she still
remains, if the envious fates and hard-hearted destinies have not cut
short hei thread of life. But sure they have not done it ; for Heaven

would never permit that so much injury sliould be done to the earth
as to lop off prematurely the lovehest branch tliat ever adorned the
garden of the world. íler wondrous beauty, which my feeble tongue

ST suSlci en tly extol, attracted innnmerahle adorers ; and princes

of her.own, and ever; other natioi^ became her slaves. Among the
rest a private cavalier of the court nad the audacity to aspire to that
earthly heaven; confiding in his youth, his gallantrr, his sprightly
and h^y wit, with numerous other graces and qualifications. In-
deed, Imust confess to yonr highnesses— though with reverence be it
spoken— he could touch the guitar to a miracle. He was, besides, a
poet and a fine dancer, and had so rare a talent for making biid-cages
that he might have gamed his living by it, in case of need. So many
parts and elegant endowments were sufficient to have moved a moun-
tain, much more the tender heart of a viririn. But all his graces and
accomplishments would have proved inefiWtnal against the virtue of
m^ beautiful charge, had not the robber and rulhan first artfdll; coo-
tnved to make a conquest of ne. The assassin and bwhaioua vaga-
bond b^an with endeavouring to obtain my good will and suborn my
inclinatioQ, thst I might betray my trust, and deliver up to him the
keys of the fortress 1 guarded. Inshoil^he so pUed me vith ti^

A.OOgIC

8T0ST at WM COEBTIU TBUALDI.

_, _ , „ B do«Ti,'aiid levelled

Die with the ground, was a oopi ol verses which I heard him ^ng
one uight ondei my wiitdow ; Boa if I lememhei right the vorda veie
thcM>:—

ThB tirnnt fair whoso beauty «ont
The throbbtcg mlacblej to my heart.

The moro mj arguieh to nogmont,
Fattíáe ma to rexal tbs iniut.

"Tho words of hiaaoni^Tere tome so man; pearls, satd his voice
vrns sweeter than hone^ ; and man;' a time since have I thonght,
irflprtinff on the evils I incnrred, tbit poets— at least, yonr amorous
poets — should be banished from all good and well-regulated eommon-
irealths ; for, insteftd of composing pathetic verses uke those of the
marquis of Manto^ which make women and children weep, thej
exercise their skill tn soft strokes and tender tonches, irhich pierce
the gonl, and entering the hody like lightning, consume all within,
while the garment is left nnsinged. Another t&ne be sang :

Coeds, d«fttli, witJi gentlr-stasling pas^

And tako me unperocivod nwny.
Mot let me tee thj wiBh'd-for fiu».

Last jo; my floating life ahooltl ataf.

Thus was I assaQed with these sjid snch like couplets that astooish,
and when chaunted are bewitching. Bnt when our poeta deign to
compose a kind uf verses raoch in fashion with us, called roundelaj;B —
good heaven ! the; are do sooner heard than the whole frame is in a
slate of emotion; the soul is seized with a kind of quaking, a titilk-
titin of the fane;, a pleasing delirium of all the senses ! I therefore
say again, most noble auditors, that sach vcrsiñers deserve to be
banished to the isle of Lizards; though in truth the blame lies chiefly
u'ith the simpletons who commend, aud the idiots who suffer them-
selves to be deluded by such things ¡ and had 1 been a wise and dis-
creet duenna, the nightly chanting of his filthy verses would not bava
moved me, nor should I have lent an ear to such expressions as
' Dying I live ; in ice I bum ; I shiver in fiamcs ; in desnair I hope ;
Illy, yet stay;' with otherflim-flams of the like stamp, of which such
kmd of writings are fulL Then again, when thev promise to bestow
on us the pkenii of Arabia, the crown of Ariaone, the ringlets of
Apollo, the pearls of the South-sea, the gold of Tiber, and the balsam
of i'cueaya, how bountiful are their pens I how liberal in promises
■«liich they cannot perform ! But, woe is me, unhappy wretch !
AVhitherdoI stray? What madness impels me to dwell on the &ults
oC others, who have so many of mine own 1« answer for ? Woe is me
again, miserable creature ! No, it was not his verses that vanquished
mc, but my own weakness ; music did not subdue me ; no, it was my
own levity, my ignorance ana lack of caution that melted me down,
that opened the wav mid smoothed the passage for Don Ckvijo;— for
that ia the name of the treacherous cavalier. Thus being made the

K -between, the wicked man was often in ttie chamber of lhe~not by
a, hut by me, betrayed Antonomasia, as bor lawful spouse; for,
sinner as I am, never would I have consented unless he had been her

M8 DOM qnxsn.

trae busband that be shoaM have come «itbin the ahuioir cA btr

shoe-string ! No, no, m&rriage must be the rorerunner of anf biisineas
of this kiod QudertaKeD bf me; the ool^ miscbief in the affair wia
that tbey irere iil-sorted, Don Clarijo beiug but a priTaU ^entlemao,
and tbe infanta Antooomasia, aa I have airead; sud, beiresa of tba
kinedom.

For some time this interooBrse, enveloped in tbe sacaoit; of mj
citen msjiection, was ocmcealed from every eye. At length I pereeived
a certain change in tbe bodilj shape of tlie princess, ana, i^iprft-
hending it might lead to a discoverj. we laid our three heads together
and deiennined that, before tlie unnappj' slip should oome to ligb^
Don Clavijo should demand Antonomasia m marriage before tbe vicar,
in virtue of a contmct signed and given him by tba inEanta henolf to
be bis wife, imd so worded by my wit, that the foioe of Saiupsai
could not have broken through it. Our plan was immediatciv oarried
into execution ; the rioar examined tbe contract, look tbe Udj's ooo-
fessioD, and she was placed in tlie custody of an honest alguazil-"
"EJe&s me!" said Sancbo, "alguoeilj too. and poets, and songs, and
wundelaya, in Cuidaja ! I swear tbe world is the same everywhere 1
But praj; set on, good madam Trifaidi, for it grows lat^ aud I am on
thonu till 1 know the end of this long story." " 1 shall be biiel^"
Answered the countess.

*<tpentliritt and tutwralit

Etebt word ntfered by Sancbo was the cause of ranch delieht to
the duchesa, and disgust to Don Quixote, who having commanded bim
to hold his peace, tbe afflieled lady went on. " After many questions
and answers," said she, " the infanta stood fírm to her ei^agemen^
without varying a tittle from her first dcckration ; the vicar, there-
fore, confirmedtheir union as lawful man and wife, which so affected
the queen Donna Maguncia, mother to the infanta AntunomasiB,
that three days after we buried her." " She died then, I suppose ?

Snoth Sancbo. "Assuredly" replied the squire Trifaldin; m C«n-
sya we do not bury the living, but the dead." " Neverthelws,
master Saujre," said Sancho, "it has happened before sow, that
people only in a swoon have been buried lor dead ; and mcthinka
queen Maguncia ought rather to have swooned than died in good
earnest; for while there is life tbere ia hope: and the young lady's
offence was not so much out of the way that her mother should have
taken it so to heart. Had she married one of her pagea, or some
serving-man of the family, as I have been told many lüve done, it
would have been a bad business and past cure ; but as ahe made
choice of a well-bred young cavalier of sucb good parís, faith and troth,
though mayhap it was foolish, it was no sucb mighty matter : for, as
my master says, who is here present and will not let me lie, bbbops
aie made ont of learned men, and why may not kings and empeioia m

A.OOgIC

pmcisHunrr or Tmt soeotias. 4tt

BiftdeotrtofMTalie»— «peeiiliyiftheybeemuitf" "llKnartiiitiie
right, Sancho," said Bon Qaixote ; ''forskuigfat-erraiit withbnttwo

eraiaB of good lock is next in the order of promotion to the grtvieat
ford in the worid. But let the afflicted lady proceed ; for I faacy the
bitter put of this hitherto sweet story ia still behúid." " Bitter 1 "
snaweréd the coimtess— " ay, and bo bitter that, in companaos,
wormwood b sweet and me saTonry !

"The queen being really dead, and not in aiwoon, ve buried ber:
and scarcely had we covered her with earth and pronoonced the last
fereweil, when, ' (¿uU taiiafaitdo femptret a laerymit ?' — lo, npon the
queen's sepolchra whu shonld w>ear, mounted on a wooden horse.
Oat her coosin-germaa the giant Mdambnmo ! Yes, that cmel necro-
mancer came expreaal; to revere the death of his couán, and to
chastise the presumptuona Duu Clavijo and the foolish Antonomasia,
both of whom, by his cnraed art, he instantly transformed— ahe into
A monker of brass, and him into a fngbtful crocodile of some straags
netBl: mii^ npon them, at the SAme time, a plate of metal, enmren
wirti Syriac characters ; which being firet rendered into the Candaba,
and now into the Castilian laogoage, hwe this mconiag: 'These two
presnmptaous lorers shall nw regain their pristiiie form till the
valorous Uanehegan enmes with me in single combot ; ainee for his
mighty arm atone have the destinies leserred the acbiereaaent of timt
atapendons adveutore.' No sooner was the wicked deed performed,
than out he drew ¿om its scabbard a dreadful scimitar, and tdcing me
by the hair of my head, he seemed preparing to cot my throat, or
wnip off my head at a blow ! Though stiuck with horror and almost
apeechleaa, trembling and weeping I oegged for mercy in such moving
tones and meltinic words that I at last prevailed on him to stop tho
cmel eiecutioQ which he meditated. In short, he ordered into his
preseDoe all the duramos of the palace, being those yon see here
present— and, after having expatiated on onr niintt, inyeighed aminat
duennas, their wicked plots, and worse intrigues, and reviled all for
tbe crime of which I idone was guilty, be said, thongb be would
TOttchsafe to qiare our Uves, he would inflict on os a pmushmfait that
■bonld be a lasting shame. At the same instant, we all felt the pom
of oDT tsMs open, and a sharp pain all over theio, Uke the pricking of
needle-points ; upon which we dapped our hands to out fices, and
found tbem in the condition you shall now b^dd."

Hereupon the afflicted lai^ and the rest of the duennas lifted 'Vp
t^e veils which had hitherto concealed them, and discovered tbor
faces planted with beards of all colours, black, brawn, white, and [ne-
bdd ! The duke and duchess viewed the spectacle with surprise, and
DonQiDxote, Sancho, and the rest were all lost in aniaiement.

" Tins," continued the TrifiJdi, " hath that wicked and evil-minded
fekra Malambruno punished us !— covering our soft and delicate faces
with these rugged hrisllea— wonld to heaven he hod struck off onr
heads with his nuge scimitar, rather than have obscured the Kght of
our countenances with such ¡m odious cloud 1 Whither, noble lord»
and lady,— O, that I oould utter what I have now to say with river»
of tear» ! but alas, the torrent is spent, and excess of grief has left
our eye» without moisture, and dry as beards of corn !— Whither, I
•ay, can a duenna go whose chin is covered vnth a beard F What
relation will own her? What charitable person will show her com-
passion, or affwdherteliefi ErenattbeWtiWhenthegTaiuof ha

460 soir QimoTB.

skin is the smoothest, and her fnce tortured and set off with n thonsond
different vashea and ointments — with all this, liow seldom docs she
meet with good-will from either man or woman! What then will
becvme of lier when her face ¡a become a forest ? O dneiinas ! — my
dear partners in misfortune and companions in grief!— in an evU
hour were we befrotten ! in an evil honr were we brought into the
world ! Oh ! "—tere being overcome with the strong sense of her
calamit;, she fell into a swoon.

CHAPTER XLl.

ViBT p«teful ought alL who delight in histories of thia kind, to be
to the original author of toe present work. Cid Hamele, for his puno-
tilions regard for truth, in allowing no circumstance to escape his pai :
and the onrions exactness with whicli he notes and sets or —

0 hspm Don Quixote! Obimoas Dulcinea! O faoetions Sancho
Pama r jointlf and severally may ye live through endless agea for the
ddight and recnaijon of mankind I

The hiatory then proceeds to relate that when Sancho taw the
afflicted hub &int awar, he said, " Upon the word of an honest mrai,
and by the blood of all my ancestors, the Panzas, I swear. I never
heard or saw, nor has my master ever told me. nor did such an adven-
ture as this ever enter into his thoughts ! A thousand devils take
thee — not tosaf curse thee, Malarabruoo, for an enchanter and giant!
Conldst thou, beast ! hit upon no other punishment for those poor
sinners than clapjiing beards upon them ? Had it not been belter (for
then) I am sure it would) to have whipt off half their noses, though
they had snuffled for it, tnan to have covered their faces with serob-
bing'brushes ? And what is worse. I'll wager a trifle tjiev have not
wherewithal to pay for shaving. "That is true, indeed, si^"
answeredoneoftne twelve : "we havenot wherewithal to satisiy the
barber, and therefore, as a shaving shift, some of os lay on plasters of
pitch, which being pulled off with a jerk, lake uproots and all, and
thereby free us of this stubble for a while. As for the women who,
in Gandaya, go about from house to house to take off the superfloons
hain of the body, and trim the evebrows; end do other privalc jobs
for ladies, wo, the duennas of her ladyship, would never have anything
to do wit!) them ; for they are most of them no better than thev shoola
be ; and therefore, if we are not relieved by Si^rnor Don Quixote,
with beards we shall live, and with beards he carried to our graves.
"I would pinek off my own in the land of the' Moors," sud Don
Quixote, " if 1 failed to deliver yon from yours."

" Ah. TahnouB knight! "cried the TriMdi, at that moment teconr-

A.OO'^lc

THB UIRACÜLOVS HOBSE. 451

ing from bcr faintii^ fit, " the sweet tinklinK of that promise naohed
my henring faculty aiid restored me to lite. Once again then, illustri-
ous knislit-errant and invincible hero ! let me beseech tliat your era-
cious promises may he cooverled into deeds." "The boainesa shall
not sleep with me," answered Dim Quiiote ¡ "therefore say. madam,
v'hat I am to da and you shall soon be convinced of my TeádineN to
serve yoiL" "lie it kaowa then to you, sir," replied the afflicted
dame, "that from this place to the kingdon m Gandaya by laud is
computed to be about tive thousand leagues, one or two more or less;
but, through the air in a direct line, it is three thousand two hundred
and twenty-seven. You are likewise to understand that MalambmuQ
told me that, whenever fortune should direct me to the knight who
was to be our deliverer, he would send him a steed— not like the
vicious iades let oat for hire, for it should be that very wooden horse
upon which Peter of Provence carried off the fair Magalona. This
horse is governed by a pcft in hb forehead, which serves instead of a
bridle, and he ñies as swiftly through the air, as if the devil himself
was switching him. This famous steed, tradition reports to have been
formed by the cmmint; hand of Merlin the enchanter, who sometimes
allowed him to be used by his particular friends, or those who paid
him handsomely ; and he it was who lent him to his friend the vaCant
Peter, wjien, as I said before, be stale the fair Magalona ; whisking
her through the air, behind Him on the crupper, and leaving all that
beheld him from the earth, gaping with astonishment, Smce the time
of Peter, to the present moment, we know of none that mounted him;
bat this we know, that Malambruno, by his art, has now got posses*
sioQof him^ and by this means piists about to every part ot the world.
To-day he la here, to-morrow in France, and the nejt day in Potosi ;
and the best of it It, that this same horse neither eats nor sleeps, nor
wants shoeing ; and, without wings, he unbles so smoothly that, in
his most rapid flight the rider may oa—" ■" '■'" '"""' - """ *"" -'
water without spuling a drcm ! No wi
lona took such delight in riiñng him."

" As for easy going," quoth sancho, " commend me to my Dapple,
thoughheisno nighflyer; but bylaiialwill match him úainst all
the amblers in the world." The gravity of the company was disturbed
for a moment by Santio's observation ; but the unhappy ladj; pro-
ceeded: "Now this horse," said she, "il it be Malambruno's inten-
tion that our misfortune should have an end. will be here this very
evening : for he told me that the sign by which I should be assured of
my having arrived in the presence of mj deliverer, would be hisaend-
ingme the horse thither with all convement despatch." "And pray,"
quolh Sancho, "how many will that same horse carry P" "Two per-
sons," answered the lady, " one in the saddle and the other on the
crupper; and genetolly these two persons are the knight and his
squire, when there is no stolen damsel in the case." " I would fain
know, quoth Sancho, " by what name he is called," " Bis name,"
answered the Trifaldi, " is not the same as the horse of Belteiophon,
which was called Pegasus ; nor is he called Bucephalus, like that of
Alexander the Great ; nor Brilkdore, like that of Orlando Funoso;
nor is it BavEirte, which belonged to Reynaldos of Monlalvan ; nor
Frontino, which was the steed of Rogero ; nor to it Bootes, r—

its DO» «OtSOIZ.

king of tbe Gollis in Spain, mounted inihat battle vherainbe lost his
kingdom and his life."

'T nil! venture a wager," quoth Sancho, ' since they have pvea
him none of these famous and well-knoim Dames, neither liave they
Kiven liim tliat of my master's horse Hozioante, which in fitness goes
beyond all the names you have mentioned." " It is very true,"
answered the bearded ladv;");et the name he bears is eorreet and
Bigiuflcant, for he is called CUvileno el Altera ;• wliereby his niitsco-
lous peg, Ilia wooden frame, and citraordinary sneed, are all curioostj
eiprcsscd: so that, in respect of his nanie, he may ria with the
renoimed Boeinante." " I dislike not bis name," replied Sancho ;
"but with what bridle or what halter is he guidedP" "I ham
already told_ vou," ai««ered the Trifaldi, " tliat he is guidedhy a pf^
which the rider tumug this way and that, makes him ^, either mm
in the air, or else sweeping, and, as it were, brualung the earth;
or in the middle region : — a course which, the discreel and wise gene-
rally endeavour to seep." " I have a miphty desire to see nim,"
quoth Sancho ¡ " but to think I will get upon htm, either in the saddle
or behind upon the crupper, is to look for pears upon an elm-tree. It
were a jest, indeed, for me, who can haidly sit mj own Dapple, though
upon a pannel softer than silk, to think of bestndiiig a W[H>den cnip>
per, witiiout either pillow or cushion! lu faith, I do not intend to
Bay myself to unheard the best lady in the land. Let every one shave
or shear as he likes best ¡ I have no mind for so long a journey : niy
master may travel by himself. Besides, I have nothmg to do with n
— I am uot wanted for the takins off these beards, as well as the busi-
ness of mr lady Dulcinea." " Indeed, my friend, vou are," said the
Trifaldi ; and so much need is there of your kind lielp, that without
it nothing can be done." " In the name of all the saints in heaven ! "
quoth Saucho, "what have squires to do with their masters' adven*
tures ? Are we always to share the trouble, and they to reap all the
¿lory? Body o' me! it might be somethii^ if the writers who recount
their adventures would hut set down in their books, ' such a knight
achieved such an adventure, with the help of such a one, bis squire.
without whom the devil a hit could he have done it.' I say it would
be something if we had our due ; but^inatead of this, they coolly tell
us that ' Don Paralipomenon of the Three Stars finished the notable
adventure of the six goblins,' and the like, without once mentioning his
squire any more than if he had been a thousand niiles off: though
mayhap he, uoor devil, was in the thick of it all the while I In truth,
my good lord undkdj', I say again, my master may man^c this adven-
ture by himself; and much good may it do him, I will stay with my
lady duchess here, and pcrhaiis when he comes back he mar find
Madam Dulcinea's business pretty forward : for X intend at my feisuie
whiles to by it on to some purpose, so that I shall not have a hair to
shelter ni

IS to entreat vou: for piU.'ous, truly,
" ''cie poor ladies

ifc I ' cxchiimed

B12(CH0's DBTKSUITI&TIOK. 463

Sanclio, "irere Ihis piece of charity nndertaien for modest maidens,
or poor cfiarit.v-girls, a man might eng^e to undergo something ; but
to take all Ihi^ trouble to rid duennas of their beards !— ¡ilasuc Uke
them ! I tutd r«thcrsee the irhole finical and snueumishtnbe bearded,
from the hipheat to the lowest of them!" " lou seem to be upon
bad terms with duennas, friend Sancho," said the duchess, " and are
of tbe same mind as the Toledan apothecary ; but in truth, jrou are in
the wrong : for I liave duennas in mj family who might serve aa modela
to all duennas ; and here is my Donna Rodriimez, ivho will not allow
me to SBT otketwise." " Your eiceilencT maj say what yoii please,'*
■aid BodrineE ; " but Heaven knows tbe truth of everything, and,
good or bad, bearded or «nooth, such as ve are, our mothers brought
■B forth like other women: and, since God has cast us into the world.
He knows whv and wherefore ; and upon His mercy I rely, and not
upon anybody^ beard whatever."

" Enough, Signora Eodriguei," qoofh Don Quixote; "aa foryoo,
Lady Triialui and your persecuted friends, I trust that Heaven wQl
speedily lo<J: with a pitjing eye upon your sorrows, and that Saneho
will do his duty, in obedience to mj wishes. Would Ihat Qavileiio
were here, and on his back Malamoruno himself! for I am cnofldent
no razor would more easily Bbave your ladyships' beards than my
sword shall shave off Mahunbrunos head from hia shoulders. U
Heaven in ita wisdom pennits the wicked to prosper, it is but for a
time," "Ah, valorous knight!" eiolaimed the afllieted lady, "may
JI the stars of the celestial regions regard your excellency with eyes
of binignity, and impart streugih to your arm and courage to your
heart, to be the shield aud refuse of the reviled and oppressed duen-
nian order, abominated by apolhccarics, calumniated by squires, and
scoffed at by pages I Scorn betake the «retch who, ¡a the ñower of
her 1^, doth not rather profess heraelf a nun than a duenaa ! For*
]am and despised as we are, althongh onr descent were to be traced
in a direct line from Hector of 'iSoy himself, our ladies would not
cease to ' thee' and 'thou' us, were thty to be made queens foe their
Condescension. O giant Malambnino! who, tboui>h enchanter, art
punctu^ in thy promises, tend ua the iucomparable Cbviteno, that
onr miaforlane may cca.se ; . for if the heats come on, aud these bearda
of onrs remain, woe be to us!" The Trifiddi uttered this with BO
much pathai that she drew tears from the eyes of ail present ; and so
much was the heart of Sancho moved, that he secretly resolved to

UignieUb, Google

CnáPTER XLU.

Of ttí arñvaX <tf CUuíUm, tníA At cmíÍmÚi» qf fhii proíix adrtnture.

Dtenino now came on, which was the time when tlic íunoua
horse Clavileno was expected to arrÍTe, whose dela; troubled Don
Quixote much, being apprehensive that, by its not arririiw, either
be was not the knight for whom this adventure was reserved, or that
Ualambmno had not the conrage to meet him in siiitcle combat. But
lo, ou a sudden, four savages entered the garden, aJl ckd in green
ivj, and bearing on their shouJders a ki^ wooden horse ! They set
bim ui>on iiis legs on the gronnd, and one of the savi^es said, Let
the knight mount who has the courage to bestride this wondrous
machine." "Not I," quoth Sancho ¡ "for neither have I courage,
nor am I knight." " And let the squire, if he has one," continued .
the savage, " moont the crupper, and trust to valorous MaLini-
bruno; for no other shall do him harm. Turn but the pin on bu
forehead and he will rush through the air to the spot where
Malambruno waits ; and lo shun the danger of a lofty flight, let
the eyes of the riders be covered till the neiehing of the horse shall

S've the signal of his completed journey. Having thus spoken, be
ft Clavileno, and with courteoufi denieanour departed with his
companions.

The afflicted lady no sooner perceived the horse, than, aímost
with tears, addressing herself to Don Qoíxote, " Valorous tnigbt,"
said she, "Malambruno lias kept his word; here is Ibe horse; oar
beards are increasing, and every one of us, with every hair of them,
entreat and conjure you to shave and shear us. Mount, therefor^
with yonr squire behind you. and give a happy beginning to your

t'oumey." " Madam," said Don Quixote, "I will do it with all my
leart, without waiting for either cushioa or spurs : so great is my
desire to see your ladyship and these your unfortunate friends sliaven
and clean." " That will not I," quotn Sancho, "either with a bad or
goodwill, or anywise; and, if this shaving cannot be done without
my mounting that crupper, let my master seek some other sanire, or
these madams some other barber: for, being no wizard, I have no
stomach for these journeys. 'ViTiat wiU my islanders say when they
here that their governor goes riding upon the wind ? Besides, it is
three thousand leagues from here to Cauda va,— what it the horse
should tire upon the road, or the giant be fickle and change his mind ?
Seven years, at least, it would take ua to travel home, and by that
time I should hare neither island nor islanders (hat would own me !
Mo. no, I know better things; I kirow, too, that delay breeds danger;
and when they bring you a heifer, be ready with a rope. Tliese gentle-
women's beards must excuse me ; — faith ! St. Peter is well at lióme:
and so am I too, in this house, where I am made much of; ana
Uuough the noble master tbereot, hope to see myself a ^vemor."

" Riend Sancho," said the duke, " your islimd neither floats nor

■tin, and therefore it will keep till your return ; indeed, so fast is it

A.OOgIC

PBXÍlKATtOH TOS THB ASVBDTUBfl. 455

rooted ¡n the earth, that three (rood pulls would not tear it from its
place ; and, as ;ou know that all offices of an>' ralue are obtained bj
some service or other consideration, what I eipcct in return for this
goTenunent I have conferred upon jmi, is onl; that yon attend your
master on this memorable occasion ; aod, whether you return upon
Clavileno with the expedition hia speed pronuses, or be it your fortune
to return on foot, like a pilgrim from house to house, and from inn to
inn,— however it may be, you will find your island where yon left it,
and your islanders wiib the same desire to receive yon for their
goveraot. My goodwill is ennaUymchaugeahle; and to doqbt that
truth, Si^noT Stmcho. would be a notorious injary to the inclination I
have to aerre joo. " Good yonr worship, say no more," qnoth
Sancho ; " I am a poor squire, and my shoulders cannot Dear the
weight of so much kindness. Let my master mount, let my eyea bo
covered, and good luck go with ns. But tell me, when we are aloft,
may I not aay my praters and entreat the saints and angels to help
meP" "Yes. snrelyj answered the Trifalrii, " yon rnay invoke wtioin-
Boever yon please : for Malambmno is a Christian, and performs his
enchantments with preat discretion and mneh preeautíon," " Well,
let ns away," qnotn Sandio, " and Heaven prosper us ! " " Since
the memoraue Dusiness of the fulling-mill," said Don Quixote, " I
hare never seen thee, Sanobo, in such trepidation; and were I
aaperstitioQS, as some people, this extraordtnai? fear of thine would
a little discourage me. Bnt come hither, friena ; for, with the leave
o( these nobles, 1 would speak a word or two with thee in private."

Don Quixote then drew aside Sancho among some trees out of
hearing, and taking hold of both his hands said to him, " Thou seest,
my good Sancho, the long joumej' we are about to undertake ; the

ieriud of out return is mieerlwn, and Heaven alone knows what
;isare or convenience oar affairs may admit during onr absence ^ I
eamestiv beg, therefore, now that opportunity ierres, thou wilt retuQ
to thy cQambM', as if to fetch something neoessary for the journey,
and there, in a trice, give thyself, if it be bnt five tmndred lashes, m
part of the three thousand and three hundred for wliich thou art
vledeed : for work well begun is half ended." " By m/ soul," quoth
Sancho, " your worship is stark mad I 1 am just gomg to Kall<^ a
tboitsand leagues upon a hare board, and yon would nave me ftrst flay
my posteriors 1— verily, verily, yourworahip is out of dl reason. Letns
gc and shave these doennas, and on my return I promise to make such
despatch in getting out of aebt, that your worshiji shall be contented,
— can I say more f " " With that promise," said Don Quiiote, " I
feel somewhat comforted, and beheve thon wilt perform it; for,
though thou art not over wise, thou tat trae bine in thy integrity.
" I am not blue but brown " quoth Sancho ¡ " bnt though I were a
mixture of both, I would make good my proi "

"File knight and scjuire now returned to the company;
they were preparing to monnt Clavileoo, Don Quiiote said : "
wink thyself, Sancho, and get up : he that sendH for us from countries

BO remote cannot snrely intend to betray us, for ha would gain little
glory by deceiving those who confide in him. And supposing the suc-
cess of the adventure should not be eqna! tO our hopes, yet of tlia
glory of so brave an attempt no malice can deprive us. " Let ua
be gone, sir," quoth Sancho, " for the beards and tears of these ladies
hare pierced my heart, and I shall not eat to do me good till I see

456 T>ov i^nxoTB.

them imootli a^in. Mount, sir, and boodwink first for if I un to
have the crupper, your worship, too sits in the saddle, mnst Ret up
first." " That b trne," replied Don Qnixote ; and, pulling a uand-
kercbief out of hia pocket, he requested the afflicted ladv to pbce tbe
bandage over his ejes : bnt it was no sooner doat thou ne uncovered
them agiiin, saving;, " 1 remember to have read in the ,£aeid of
Virgil, fiiat the fatal wooden horse dedicated by the Greeks to their
tiiteWj goddess Minerva, was filled with armed knights, who by thai
stratagem got admittance into Tro;', and wrought its dowoTall. Will
it not, thetefore, be prudent, before 1 tnist myself upon darüeno.
to examine what may be in his beliy P " " There is no ueed (A that,
said the TrifaJdi ; " for I am confident Mahtmbnmo has nothing ut
tum of the traitor; jourworahip may mount him without fear, and
should any harm ensue, let the bhune fall on me alone."

Don Quixote, no» eonsideiing that to betray any furthw doubts
would be a reflection on his courage, vaulted at once into his saddle.
He then tried the pin, wliich he found would turn Tery easily : stir-
rups he had none, so that, with his legs dangling, he looked like a
figure in some Roman triumph woven in Flemish tapestry.

Very slowlv, and much against his will, Bsncho then got up behind,
fixing nimseli as well as he could upon the crupper ; and finding it
very deficient in softness, he humbly be^ed tbe diike to scooramodatB
him, if possible, with some pillow or cushion, though it were from
the duchess's state sofa, or from one of the page's beds, as the hotse's
crupper seemed rather to be of marble than of wood : but the Trj-
fatm, interfering, assured him that Clavílcno would not endure any
more furniture upon him ; but that, by sitting sideways, as womeD
ride^ he would find himself greatly rebered. Sancho followed her
advice ; and, after taking leave of the company, he suffered hia eyes
to be covered. But soon after he raised the bajidage, and, lookup
sorrowfully at his fiends, begged them, with a eountenaace of woe,
to assist him at that perilous crisis with a few Prier-nosters and Ave-
marias, as they hoped for the same charity from others when in the
like extremity. What, then!" said Don Quixote, "art thou a
thief in the hands of the execationer, and at the point of death, that
thou hast recourse to such prayetsF Dsstardly wretch, without a
soul! dost thou not know that the fairMagalona sat in the same
place, and, if there be truth in history alighted from it, not into the

Sve, but into the throne of France f And do not I sit by thee— I
t may vie wiih the valorous Peter, who pressed this very seat that
I nowpress ? Cover, cover, thine eyes, heartless animjd. and publish

not thy shame — at least in my preseeoe." " Hoodwink me, then,"
answered Sancho ; " but, since I must neither pray myself, nor big
atben to do it for me, no wonder if I am aFraid that we may be fol-

lowed by a legion of devils, who may watch their opportumt; to fly
«war with us."

They were now blindfolded, and Don Quixote feeling himself firmly
seated,>put his hand to the peg, upon which all the duennas, and the
whole company, raised their voices at once, calling out. " Speed you
well, valorous knight ! Heaven guide thee, undannted squire I now
you fiv aloft ! — see how they cut the air more swiftly than an airow 1
now tliey mount and soar, and astomsh t¿e world below ! fiteaij^.

IHB AIBUL USX. 157

7iDar&tlvD<iIdbemoTetemb1eth»nthatofFliaetoiiI"_ Sancho, hear-
Uisalitlu3,pre3Bedcloserto his master, and, KraEpina him fast, be said,
" How can they say, sir, that we are got so EíRh, when wo iiear them
S3 plain as if thejr were close hywi" " Take no heed of that,
SaiMjho," said Don Quixote, " fcr in these eitraordinary flights, to
see or hear a thonaand leagues is nothing— but aiiueeze me not
quite bo bard, good Sancho, or tboa wilt unhorse me. In truth, I
see not why t£ou shuuldst be so alarmed, for I can safely swear,
an easier-paced steed I never rode in all mr lire--íait]i, it goes as

flibly as if it did not move at all ! Banisn fear, taj friend ; the
nsiness goes OD swlinmingly, with a gale fresh and fair behind us."
" Gad, I think so too ! " qnoth Sanc&i, " for I feel Üie wind here,
Upon my hinder quarter, as if athoosand paira of bellows were puffing
at my tail." And, indeed, this was tbe fact, na sundry krge bellows
▼ere just then poucing ppon tbcni an artmcial stnnn; in truth, so
well WAS this adventure managed and contrived, that nothii^ was
wanting to make it complete. Don Quiiote now feeling the wind,
" Without doubt," said he. " we Lave bow reached the second
region of the air, where the hail and snow are formed : thimder and
ligntning are engendered in the third region j and, if we go on
Btouttting at this rate, we shall soon be in the region of Sre ; and how
to manage this peg I edow Bot, so as to avoid mounting to where wa
sball be burnt alive"

Just at that time some flax, set on Sre, at the end of a long cane,
was held near their faces % lot warmth of which being felt, "May I
be hangcii" said Sancho, " if we are not already there, or very near
it, for half mv beard is singed off— I have a huie mind, sir, to peep
out and see whereabouts we are," " Heaven forbid such rashness!
said Don Quixote : " remember the true story of the licentiate Tor-
latvo, who was carried by devils, hood-winked, riding on a cane, witi
his eyes shut, and in twelve hours reached Rome, where, lighting on
the tower of Nona, be saw the tumnlt. witnessed the assault and
death of the oonstabLe of Bourbon, and the nest morning retumed_ to
Madrid, where he gave an account of all that he had seen. During
his passage throi^b the air, he said that a devil told him to open his
eyes, which he did, and found himself, as he thought, so near the
body of the moon that he could have laid hold of it with his hand ;
but that be durst not look downwards to the earth, lest his brain
should turn. Therefore, Sancho, let us not rnn the risk of uncover-
ing iu such a place, but rather trust to him who has taken chai^
of us, as he will be responsible: perhaps we are just now soaring
aloft to a certain height, in order to come souse down upon the
kingdom c^ Gandaya, like a hawk upon a heron: and, though it
seems not more than half an hour since we left the garden, doubt-
less we have travelled through an amaring apace." " As to that
lean say nothing," quoth Bwicho Panza; lean only say, that if
Idadam Magalcna was content to ride upon this ompner withont a
Coshion, her flesh could not have been the tenderest in tne world."

This conversation between the two heroes was overheard by the
duke and ducheas, and all who were in the garden, to their great
diversion ; and, being now disposed to flnish the adventure, ther
appUed some lifted flax to Clavileno's tail ; upon which, bra body
being full of combustibles, he instantly blew ¿p with a prodigious
npüt, and threw his riders to the grñutd. The Trifaldi, with tba

whole bearded squadion of dneiiiiB3,Taiiished, ftod all that n.

in the garden were laid stretched on the ground u if in a traooe.
I>on Quixote and Sancho got apon their legs in bat an iodifferent
plight^ and looking tonnd, were amazed to find tbenuehes in the
same gaiden with Boch a aumber of people strewed about tbem
on ulT aides ¡ but their wonder was increased when, on a ham
lanoe sticking in the earth, the; beheld a sheet of white paren-
ment attached to it by silken striogg, wtiercoa was written, in lelten
of gold, the following words :

'ñie renowned knight Don Quixote de la Mancha has achieved tho
stupendous adrenture of Tnfaldi the afflicted, and her companions in
grief, only by attempting it. Malambmno is satisfied, his wnith is
appeased, the beards of the unhappy have vanished, and Don ClaTijo
imd Antonomasia have recotereo tJieir pristme state. When the
squirely penance shall be completed, then shall the white dare,
delivered from the cruel talons oT the ^ursoinic hawks, be enfohied in
the arms of her beloved turtle :— snch is the wUl of Merlin, prince of
enchanters."

Don Quizot« having read the piophetio decree, and oetceiving at
once that it referred to tbe disenchantment of Duldnea, ne expressed
his gratitude to Heaven for having, with si '

great an exploit, whereby manj venerable females had oeen happily
rescued from disgrace. He then went to the spot where the duke and
duchess lay on the ground, and, taking tbe duxe by the arm, he said,

damage to the bars, as you will find by that record." The duke gra-
daallv, as if awaking from a sound sleep, seemed to recover his senses,
as dia the duchess and the rest of the party ; axpressii^, at the same
time, so much wonder and affright tliat what they feigned so well
seemed almost reality to themselves,

liiou^h scarcely awake, the duke eagerlv looked for the scroll,
and, having read i¿ with open arms embraced Don Qaiioto, declaring
him to be tbe bravest of knights. Sancho looked all about for tna
afflicted dame, to see what kind of face she had when beardless, and
whether she was now as goodly to the sight as her stately presence
seemed to promise: bat he was told that, when Clavileno came
tumbling down in tne flames through the air, the Trifaldi, with her
whole train, vanished, with not a beard to be seea among them— everf
hair was gone, root and branch !

The duchess inquired of Sancho bow he had fared daring that
kmg voyage? "Why truly, madam," answered be, " I have seen
wonders ; for, as we were passing through the region of fire, as mjr
master rálled it, I had, you most know, a mighty mind to take a
peep ; and though my master wonld not consent to it, I, who have
an itch to know evervthing, and a hankering after whatever is for-
bidden, could not help, softly and unperceived, shoving the cbth a
little aside, when through a crevice I looked down ana there I saw
(Heaven bless us !) the earth so far olf that it looked to me no bigger
tlian a grain of mustard -seed, and the men that walked apon it
little bigger than hazel-nuts ! — only think, then, what a height we
must have been!" "Take oare what you say, friend," said Uie
duchess; " had it been so, you oou]d not have seen the earth nor
the people upon it ; — a hazel-nut, good man, would have oovered
'be whole earth." " Like enough, said Sancho, " but for all thatr

A.OOgIC

s

WBÍ1 SANCHO SAW. 4S9

I had a aide-view of it, and saw it all." " Take heed, Sancho,"
said tíie duchess ; " for one cannot see the whole of anything b; a
•ide-view." "I know nothing about views," replied Sancho; I
oniy know that your ladyship should remember that, ainee we flew
' enchantment, hy enchantment I might see the whole earth, and
_ the men upon it, in whatever way I looked ; and, if your lady-
ship will not credit that, neither wiQ you beheve me when I tell
you that, thrusting up the kerchief close to my eyebrows, I found
myself so near tolieaven that it was not above a span and a half
from me (blees us atll what a place it is for bigness !) and it so
fell out that we passed close by the place where the seven little
she-eoats * are kept ; and, by my faith, having been a fpDatherd in my
fontn, I no sooner saw them but I loneed to plav with tijem awhile ;
and lud I nut done it, I verily think X should have died ; so what
did I, bnt without saymg a word, softly slide down from Clavilcno,
and play with the sweet little creatures, which are like so many
violets, lor almost three-4iuarters of on hour ; and all the while Cta-
vileno seemed not to move from the place, nor stir a jot,"

" And while honest Sancho was dwertinx himself with the goats,"
grioth the doke, " how did Signor Don Quixote amnse himself?"
To which the knight answered; "As these and such-hke coneemj
are out of the order of nature, I do not wouder at Sancho's asser-
tions; for my own part, I can truly say I neither looked np nor
down, and saw neither heaven nor earth, nor sea nor sands. It is
neveithelesB certain, that 1 was sensible of our passing through the
region of the air, and even touched upon that ot ñre ^ bat that we
pasi^ beyond it, I cannot beheve í fiw, the fiery region lying be-
tween the sphere of the moon and the uppermost region of the air,
we could not reach that heaven where the seven goats are which

dream," answered Sancho : " only ask n

goats, and by them vou may guess wheiner i speaz ine trutn or
not." " TeQ us what they were, Saioho," qnoth the duchess.
" Two of them," replied Srácho, are green, two carnation, two
bine, and one motleyKmlonred." " A new kind of goats are those,"
said the dnke : " in our reifion of the earth we have none of such
colours." "The reason is plain," qnoth Sancho; "your highness
will allow that there must be some diíTerence between the goats of
heaven and those of earth." "Pr'ythee, Sancho," said the duke,
"was there a he-goat t among them?" "Not one, sir," answerca
Saaeho ; " and 1 was told that none are suffered to pass beyond the
horns of the moon."

They did not choose to question Sancho any more ooDceming his

i'oumey, perceiving him tobe in the humour to ramble all over the
leavens, and tell them of all that was passing there without having

stirred a foot from the place where he m

Thus concladed the adventure of the afflicted duenna, which fur-
nished the duke and duchess with a subject of mirth, not only at the

Tbs Pinada ore valsaily coiled, in Spain, "the tevm litlls ahe-

t " Cabrón. "—A jest on the double me»iiing of that word, which algnifie*

both he-goat and cuokoM,

A.OOgIC

time but for the rest of their lives, and Sancho sotnefhing to relate
had be lived for ages. " Saneho," said Don Quixote (whispering
" " ■' ■ " if thon wonldst haye us credit all thou hast toli

CHAPTER XLin.

Thf, áake and dnohess hang so well pleased with the afflicted
dnenna, were enconraped to proceed with other projects, seeínir that
there was nothing too eitravagant for the orednlity of the knight nnd
sqmre. The necessary orders were accordingly issoed to their ser-
vants and vassals with regard to their behaviour towards Sancho in
his government of the promised island. The dav after the fli^t of
Clavileno, the dnke bid Sancho prepare and g«t himself in readiness
to assume his office, for his islanders were aircady wishing for hini as
for rain in May. Sancho made a low bow, and aaid, " Ever since mj
jonntey to heaven, when I looked down and saw the earth so very
small, my desire to be a governor has partly cooled ; for what mij^ity
matter is it to command on a spot do bi^er than a grain of nins-
tard-seed : Where is the majesty and pomp of goveminz half a dosen
creatnres no bigger tlian haEel-nats? If your lordship will be
pleased to offer me some amall portion of heaven, thoagh it be but
naif a leaarue, I wonld jump at it sooner than for tho largest island in
the world."

" Look you, friend Saneho," answered Ihe duke, " I can give away
no part of heaven, not even a nail's breadth ; for God has tesetved to
himself Hit disposal of such favours ; but what it is in my powEf to
give, I give you with all my heart ; and the island I now present lo
you is ready made, round and sound, well-proportioned, and above
measure fruitful, and where, by good management¡ yon may vonrsclf.
with the riches of the earth, purchase an inheritance in heaVFu.'
" Widl, then," answered Sancho, " let this island be forthcoming, and
it shall go hard with me but I will be sneh a governor that, in spite
of rogues, heaven vrill take me in. Nor is it out of covetousness ttiat
I forsake my bumble cottaiie, and aspire to greater things, but the
desire I have to taste what il is to be a governor." " IÍ once you taste
it, Saneho," quotii theduke, "yon will hckyonr fingers after it: — ao
sweet it is to command and he obeyed. And ecrtajn I am, when your
n?aster becomes an omncror, of which there is no^ doubt, as matt«n
proceed so well, it would be impossible to wrest his power from him,
and his cmlv regret will be that he had it not sooner." " Faith, air,
yon are in the right," quolh Saneho, "it b pleasant to govern, though
A be imt a flock of sheep." " Let me be buried with you, Saneho,"
replied the duke, " if you know not something of everything, and I
dotibt not you will prove a pearl of a governor. But enough of this
fcr the present ; to-morrow you surely depart for your island, ani

A.OOgIC

sa ISTICB TO autcBo. ul

this evening yon sLaU be fitted with suitable apparel and «ilh all
tijnga neCESSai7 fot tout appointment." " Clotne me as you wiD,"
said Sancho, "i Ehall still be Sancho Panza." "That is true," said
the dulce ; but the garb should always be suitable to the office and
rank of the wearer ; for a lawyer to be habited lite a soldier, or a
soldier like a priest, would be preposterous ; and yon, Sancho, must
be clad partly like a scholar, and piutly like a soldier ; as, in the office
you will hold, arms and learning are united," "Aa for learning,"
replied Sancho, " I We not much of that, for I hardly know my
A B C : but to be a good governor it will be enough that I am able
to make my Christ-cross : and as to arms. I shall handle sach aa are
given me till I fall, and so God help me. " With so good an inten-
tion," quoth the duke, " Sancho cannot do wrong." At this time
Don Quijote came up to them, and hearing how soon Suncho was to
depart to his govenunent, he took him by the hand, and with the
duke's leave, led him to his dumber, in order to give him aocat advice
respecting his conduct in office: and, having entered, he shat the
door, anC almost by force, made SiuLcho sit down by him, ud wi^
much solemnity addressed him in those words ; —

" I am thankful to Heaven, friend Sancho, that, even before fortiUM
has crowned my hopes, prosperity has gone forth to meet thee. I,
who had trusted in my own success for the reward of thy «ervioea,
am still but on the road to advancement, whilst thon, prematurelj
And before all reasonable eipectation, art come into full possession
of thy wishes. Some must bribe, importune, solicit, attend early,
pray, persist, and yet do not obtain wlút they desire ; whilst another
comes, and, without knowinf; how, jumps at once into the preferment
for which so many had sued in vain. It is truly said that merit does
much, but fortune more.' Thou, who in reapeot to me, are but a
very ámpleton, without either early rising orlat* watchbg, without
labour oi body or mind, by the ur alone ot knight-errantry oreathiug
on thee, ündcst thyself the governor of an island, as if it were a trifle,
a tiling of no account !

" All this I say, friend Sancho, Uiat thou mayst not ascribe the
favour done thee to thine own merit, but give thanks, first to Heaven,
which disposeth things so kindly ; and in the next place, acknowledge
with gratitude the inherent grandeur of the profession of knight-
errantry. Thy heart being disposed to believe what I have now said
to thee, be attentive, son, to me thy Cato, who will he thy counsellor,
thy north star and guide, to conduct and steer thee safe into port.
out of that tcmutstuous sea on which thou art going to embark, and
where thou wilt be in danger of being swallowed up in a gulf of
confusion.

" First, my son, fear God : for, to fear him is wisdom ; and being
wise, thou cúbt not en.

" Secondly, consider what thou art, and endeavour to know thy-
self, which 13 the most difficult study of tdl others. Tlie knowledge
of thyself will preserve thee from vanity, and the fate of the frog that
foolishly vied with the oi, will serve thee as a caution : the recol-
lection, too, of having been formerly a swineherd in thine own country
will be to thee, in the loitincsi of thy pride, like the ugly feet of the
peacock." " It is true," said Sancho, " that I once kept swine, but

463 DO» «ÜDOTB.

Boveniore are not descended from kinga," "That I grant," Teplied
Don Quixote : " and therefore those who We not the advantage of
noble descent, should fail not to grace the dipiit; of the office ther
bear with gentleness and modesty, which, wliea Bocompanied witn
discretion, will silence those murmura which few situationa in life
can escape.

" Conoeal not the meanness of thy famil/, nor think it disgracefol
to be descended from peasants ; for, when it is seen that thou art not
thyself ashamed, none will endeavour to make thee so ; and deem it
more merítoríous tu )je a Ttrtuous humble man than a lofty sinner.
Infinite ia the number of those «ho, born of low extraction, have
risen to the highest digmties, both in chureh and state ; and <^ this
truth I oould tiie thee with examples.

" Remember, Sancho, if thou takest virtue for the rule of life, and
valuest thyself upon acting in all tilings conformabiy thereto, thou
wilt have no cause to envy lords and princes ; for blood is inherited,
but virtue is a common propcrtv and mav be acquired by all ; it has,
moreover, an intrinsic woith which blood has not. This being eo, if
peradventure any one of thy Idn^d visit thee in thy government, do
not slight nor affront him ; but receive, cherish, and make nnon of
him ¡ for in so doing thou wiJt please God, who allows none of his
creatures to be despised; and thou wilt also manifest thereinawell-
disposed nature.

If thou takest thy wife with thee (and it is not well for those wiio
are appointed to governments to be long separated from their families),
teach, instruct, and polish her from her natural rudeness : for It oftiai
hapnens that all the consideration a wise governor can acquire ia
lostoy an ill-bred and foolish woman.

" If thon shooidst become a widower (an event which is possible),
and thy station entitles thee to a better match, seek not one to serve
thee for a hook and angling-rod, or a friar's hood to receive alms
in : " fot, believe me, whatever the jadge's wife receives, the hua-
band must account for at the general judgment, and shall be made to

Cfoui-fdd for all that of wMch he has rendered no acooont dining
hfe.
"Benotnnder the dominion of thine own will; il ¡a the vice of the
ignorant, nho vainly presume on their own understandii^.

" Let the tears of ttie poor find more compassion, but not nuwB
justice, from thee than the applications of the wealthy,

"Be equally solicitous to sift out the truth amidst the presents and
promises of the rich and the sighs and entreaties of the poor.

" Whenever equity may justly temper the rigour of the law, let not
the whole force of it bear upon the delinquent : for it is better that a
judge should lean on the aide of compassion than severitv.

If perchance the scales of justice be not oonectlf Wlaneed, let
the error be imputable to pity, not to gold.

" If, perchance, the cause of tldne enemy come before thee, foi^
tbv iiguries, and think onl¡f on the merits of the case.

Let not private affection blind thee in another man's cause ; for

• An Blloaion to the proverb, " No qnioro, m»a echadmslo an mi capflla,"
that ia. "I will not, buC throw it into mv bood." It ii appliod to ths
beggnig friars who refuM to take money, but suffer it to tw throwD into
their hooda.

tile errors thoa Bhalt thei«by eommit are often withoat remedy, and
at the expense both of thj reputation and fortune.

" When a beautiful woman comes before ihee to demand justice,
conaider inatiuelj the nature of her claim, withont regarding either
ber tears or her aigtis, unless thou wouldst expose thy judgment to
the dangt^r of beinz lost in the one, and thf integritf in the other.

" Itevile not nitli words him whom thon hast to correct vith deeda :
the jjunishment which the unhappy wretch ia doomed to suffer ia
snfficieat, -without the addition of abusive language.

"When the criminal stands before thee, recollect the frail and
deprared nature of man, and, as much as thon canst, withoat iiüiutíce
to the Buffering party, show pity and clemency^ for, though the
attributes of God are all equally adorable, yet his mercy is mora
ahining and attractive in our eyes than his justice.

by aU roen, thy days shall pass in peace and tranquiliity ; and when
the inevitable period comes, death shall steal on tnee in a j^ood and
venerable old age, and thy grandchildren's children, with their tender

«' ma hand^ shall cdose thine eyes,
e advice I have iust given thee, Sancho, regards the good and
unent of thy mina; now listen to the dúectiom I have to give

eotuxruiiig tJiy person and deportment."

CHAPTER XUV.
Of tt« (MMd teria qf iiutracliom Don QiiúoM gan to iSoacAo Paiua.

Who that has duly considered Don Qaiiote's instructions to his
squire would not have taken him for a person of singular intelligence
and discretion f But, in truth, as it hiu often bc<'n said in the pro-
gress of this great history, he raved only on the subject of chivalry ;
on all othere he manifested a sound and discriminating understanding ;
wherefore his judgment and his actions appearea continually at
TKriance. But, in these second instructions given to Sancho, which
showed much ingenoity, his wisdom and frenzy are both singularly
conspicuous.

Daring the whole of this private oonferenoe, Sancho listened to his
master with great BttentioD, and endeavoured so to register bis counsel
in his mind, that he might thereby be enabled to bear the bnrdeu of
government, and acquit himself bonoutably. Don Quixote now

As to the regulation of thine own peraon and domestic concerns,"
said he, " in the first place, Sancho, 1 enjoin thee to bo cleanly in all
things. Keep the nails of thy fingers oonstantl.v and neatly pared, nor
suffer them to grow as some do, who ignoratitly imagine that long
nails beautifythe hand, and account ihk excess of tíÁt excrement
, , . .A.OOgIC

4U BOX Qinxon.

■implr ft flnper-tudl, whereas it ia rslJieT the talon of the IL
kestrel — a fool and unsightif object.

" Go not loose and unbuttoned. Sancho ; for a sloveiilj dresa
betokens a cbkIcss mind; or, aa in the oaae of Julius Ceeear, it may be
iMribated to cmmiiiK.

"EiamÍDe pnidently the ineome of íbj office, and if it will ittord
thee to give liveries to tiiy serrants, dtc tbem sacii asare decent and
lasting, rather than gaud; and modiah; and what thou (halt thua sbtb
in ihj servants bestow on the poor ; lo shalt thou hare attendanla
both in he&Ten and earth, — a ptoviaioa vhich our Tajn-gkxioaa great
never think of .

" Eat neither garlic nor onioBB. lest tlie tmell betr«7 thr nuticity.
Walk with giavit;, and speak deliberately, but not so as to seem to
be listenior to thyself ; for affectation is odious.

"EatUtueatdmnerandleasat anpperi for the health of tiievhole
bodris tempered in the laborat^i^ of the stomaeh.

"Drink with moderation; íac mabaelj neTctt keffga % seeret nor

"Take heed, Sandra, not to chew on both sides of thy mouth «t
once, and hj no means to eroot before oompanr." " I know ttot what
Tou mean bj enict," quoth Sancho, " To eruot," «aid Don Qiiiiot^
■'meanstobelch:— afilthT, thoojjk rery signifioMrt word; and there-
fore the polite, instead of saying belch, make use of the woid enict,
whioh b borrowed from the Waii; Kid for belchinge they say 'enui>
tations ¡ ' and though it is tme that some do not yet understand Uieoo
terms, it matters not much, for in time, by use and custom, tlujr
meamng will be known to all ; and it is by such inuovations that
languages are enriched." " By mjfaith^ sir qnoth Sancho, "Í shall
bear in mind this counsel abont not oelomog, for, in truth, I am
hugely given to it." "Eructing, Sancho, and not belchin " "'
Bon Quixote. " Enicting it shall be, henceforward," qooth
"and eead, 1 shall nerer forget it."

" In tne neit phice, Sancho, do not intermix in thy discomse sneh
a multitude of proverbs as thou wert wmt to do ; for tbon^ proycrba
are concise and pithv sentences, thon dost so often drag than in by
the head and slioulaers, that tbey seem rather the maxims of I6ÜJ
than of wisdom." " Heaven alone oan mnedy that," quoth Baacho ;
"for 1 know more than a handful of prorerbs, and when I talk, ther
crowd so thick into my mouth, that they quairel whidi shall get out
first; so out they come hap-hazaid, and no wonder if they shouU
sometimes not be very pat to the purpose. But I will take heed in
fatare to utter only aucn as become the gravity of my place ; ' for in
a plentiful house supper is soon dressed;' 'he that cuts doesnot deal;'
and, 'frith the repique in hand the game is sure;' 'he is no fool who
can both spend and spare.' " " So, so, there, out with them, Sancho,"
quoth Don Quixote, ' spue them not ;— my modier whips me and I
still tear on. While I am warning thee from the prodigal use of pro-
verbs, thou pourest upon me a whole litany of them, as fitting to the
present purpose asif tliouhodstsung, 'Hey down derry! ' Attaid to
me, Sancho ; I du not say a provorb is amiss when aptly nnd seasouably
applied ; but to be for ever dischargiiig them, right or wron£ hit or
m^s, renders conversation insipid and vulgar.

" When thou art on horseback, do not throw thy body badEward
over the crupper, nor stretch thy lega out stiff and etniadiing bom

ntsTXCcnoirs comniiBD. 46S

the bOTse's bellT ; neitW let them hang daii^g, as if thou vert «till
upon Dapple i for hj their ¿epralment and air on borsebaolc gentle»
mea are dtstingnishita &om groomt.

" Let th; sle«ep be modOTats • for he who mea not with the son
enjoTs Dot the dar; and remember, Sancho, tbat diligence is the
mather of good fortune, and tbat ami, her advenarf, neTer. arrived
at the attainment of a good wiah.

" At this time I have bat one more admonition to give thee, whiek
thongh it concerns not thj person, is well worthy of thy carefai
remombraiice. It is this,— Bever undertake to decide contesta con-
cerning lineage, or the pre-eminence of families ; since, in the com-
parison, one must of necessity have the advmnttue, and be whom thou
B&st hombled will hate thee, and he who it preierred will not reward
thee.

" As fi>r thy dress, «ear breeohes and hose, a hug ooat, and a cloak
somewhat longer ; but for trowsais or Inmk-hoae, think not of them !
they are not becoining either gentlemen or goremoTs.

Thisia all the advice, friend Sancho, that occurs tome at present :
hereafter, aa oooaaiona ofler, my instructions will be ready, provided
thon art mindful to inform me of the state of thy affairs. " Sir,"
answered Sancha " I >ee very well that all your worship has fold me
is whoissome and profitable ; bat what shall I be the better for it if I
oanoot keep it in my head F It is tnie 1 shall not easily forget what
yon said about paring my nails, and mairying again it the opportunity
offered ; but for your other quirks and qnillete, I protest they hava
^eady gone oat of mj- head sa clean as last year's clouda ; and there-
fore let me have them in ------ ■■— "- — '- ' • —-' "--

myself, I will give them II —^ —
drive them into me in time of need."

"Heaven defend mel" said Don Qnixot^ "how scnrvr doth it
look in a zoveruor to be unable to read or wnte I Indeed, Sancho, I
mnst needs tell thee that when a man has not been taught to read, or
b left-handed, it argues that his parentage was very low, or that in
early life he waa so indocile and perverse that Ina teachers oould beat
nothing good into him. Truly tbis is a great defect in thee, and'
therefore I would have tbee learn to write, if it were only thy name."
" That I can do already," quoth Sancho ; for when I waa steward of
the Brotherhood in our viQafre, I learned to make certain marks like
those npon wool-paeka, which, they told me, stood for my name.
But, at the worst, I oan feign a lameness in my right hand, and get
another to sign for me : there is a remedy for everything but death ;
Bid, having the staff in my hand, I can do what I please. Besides,
as your worship knows, he whoae father is mayor* — and I, being
KOTemor, am, 1 trow, something more than mayor. Ay. ay, let
them come that list, and play at bo-peep,— ay, fleer and backbite me;
bnt th^ may come for wool, andgo baok shorn : ' His home is savoury
whom God loves ;' — besides, ' Tho rich man's blunders pass corrent
for wise maxims i ' eo that I being a govemor, and therefore wealthy,
and bountiful to boot — as I mtend to De— nobody will see any blemisa
in me. No, no, let the clown daub himself with honey, and he will
nerer want flies. As much as yon have, just so much yon arc worth.

ipM the rich «lio «ml" "Hmiui

.ynixoto; "lixty thuasMiddeTilsUka

tfaee and thf proverlia ! Thia hoot, or mora, tlion hast beea ubitmag
tiiy nnst; wane, jfwaomae ud toituhng me vithuit nenr- Imb
II17 wi^ for it, uiMC piowba viU oiw d^r brbi UkM to tke gallowa ;
—^v «ill ■arel7piOTOkath7peGf)le to rebellion! Wbeneaortthaa
find tDein ? Hov Bhonldst tiKin apply them—idiat F for I toil and
svsat ai if I wen delving the grouM to ittet bsl one, and •nij it

oaaplains of very tnie». Why, u the devil * aame, an joo. ai«i
ttut I make use of lar own good» f for other atodc I have aaaa, n
tm stock but lEoveitia iip(Ht piovefiis ; Mid jut sovr I b«e foi_
leadv to pop oat, all pat and fittiiwu pean in a pannier— bat I am
imo i ^dtoe is my name."* "Then art thou vildf imacalled,"
quoth Dcm Quixote, " being an ^cnuJ babblei. Ne*«rUteleM, I
voald bia know theeefour proverbs that oooie to nat to the puipoeet
tar I have been nuunagiDig m; own memory, whidi is nooati one,
Init forUiesoolof iae,CBauidnone." "Oan thera be better," qootit
Bancbo, " thao — 'NeverTentore yonr fingers between two qre-teeth ;'
and «iUi ' Get out oi my house— what «oald joa have wikh ny infer
there is no Honing ; aticl, 'Whether the pitchw hita tteslODe, or the
■tone hite the pitcher, it goes ill with the pitcher.* Al! these, your
worship must aee, ñt to n hair. Let no one meddle with tbe governor
or his deputy, or he will oiHDe off the worat, like him who ol^n hie
finger between two eye-teeth, and though wey were not ey»leeth,
'tu enough if they be but teeth. To what a governor eaya theie is
no le^úying, any iaoi« than to ' Get out of my ttouee — «hat biwines*
have you with my wife ?' 73ien aa to the ebme and Hie pitcher—»
blind man may see that. So he who pomta to the mote in anodier
mac'aeye ihould fint hx¿ to thebcun inhia own, that it may not be
said of him, the dead woman was ^raid of her that was flayed.
Besides your worship knows well that the fool knows more in hia own
boose tluuL the wise in that of another."

"Not so. Sancbo," answered Bcm Qnixote; "the ío¡A knows
nothing, either in his own or any otber house : for knowledge is not
to be erecl«d upcat so bad a foundatioa as folly. But hece let it
Teat, Sancho, for, if thou govemeet ill, though the fault will be tbine,
the ahame will be mine. However, I am comforted in having given
f hec the beet counsel in my power ; end therein having done my dnty.
I am aoquitted both of my obUgation and promise : so God speed
thee, Sancho, and govern thee m thy government and deliva- me
from the fears 1 entertmn that thou wilt, turn the whole island topsy-
turvy ¡—which, indeed, I might prevent by letting the doke know
what thou art, and teUing him tbat all that paunch-gut and little
carcase of thine is nothing but a sack full of provertú and imper-
tinence."

" Look yoo, m" replied Sancho, " if yonr worship thinks I am not
lit for thia government, 1 renoonoe it from this time ; for I have more

Sandio upon capon and partridge. Besides, sleep a

* The proverb is,- "To ke«p nlence well i» called i^

THE HiBTcnus'a UTLASATioN. its

gnat and amall, ricli and poor. Call to mind, too, irtio fint put this
'wUst of gtrttiaoit nto m7 need — who waa it but vanrself F for, alack,
I knov no more about gOTcming ishnda than a inuUid ; ua if 7011
bacr that in case I shcnld be a gorcmor, the deril will hare me — in
GodS nanw, let me lathw m to hearen plain SmhJio, tlhu a goTenwr

gofentot of It tlwosMid udaiidf. iW hut a good díeposÜon, fhl&r
out wfaich knowledge is of no raloe. Ftay to God, and ^aaoKiam
not to err iotb; intention ¡ Z mean, let it eter be \^j ur-^-'

CHAPTEa ILV.

Wx hsre beea told Uiat thwe ú a manifest differenoe between the
banilation and tbe oriñsü, in tíie bf^inninc of *1*^ cluster; t^^*
inntlator having entize!; omitted what the Qstoiian, Cid Huoete,
ta«to(Aooca»oatoM*Df himielf, ' '

«Dgaged in ftw<n'k like toe preaent,

«henos he was oonfioed to a dull i_

«rBi7 knigl^ and bia sqnire ; not danns to lannoh ont into episodH
and dipáñODS, that would flave Tidded both pleasore and prt^t in
abundance. To hare hia isTentiui, bis bond, and bis pen, thus tied
down to a tingle soliieet, and oonfined toso scantraliatof diacactera,
he thought an insupportable hardship, as it mre nim endless trouble,
and promised him nothing for his pains. In the first part he had
endeaniDred, he said, to make amends for the defeot here cvmplained
of, b; intioducinK aaiu tales as " The Gañóos Impertbent," and " The
CaptÍTe ;" and though these, it is tme, did not, strictly, make a put
of the historj, tike same objeetion could not applr to other stories
which are there brought in, and appear bo nattirélly connected with
Don Quixote'saffiíirtkatÜMfooulanat be well omitted. But Boding,
he said, the attention of his readers so engrossed by the exploits of
hie maa hero, that tiiey haré none to bestow on his it!>velK, and that
bang run over in haste, their reception is not proportionca to their
merit, which wonid have been sufficiently obvious if they had been
publiébed separately, and nnmiscd with the extravagnnces of Don
Quixote, and the simplieities of his aqaire ; finding this to be the case,
he has, in the Second J'art, aiiinittea no nncomiected tales, and unly
such episodes as arose out of the events that actually occuircd -. and
even tbese with all possible brevity. But olthoogh tie has thus con
sented to restrain his genius, and to keep within the narrow limits 01
a simple narrative— thereby suppressing knowlet^je and tuleuts suffi
cient to treat of the whole universe, he hopes his book will not do him
any discredit, but that he may be applaaded for what he has written,
3 H 8

46S DOH qDixoTB.

and yet more for irbat he has omitted in obedíenee to the restric-
tions impoMd vpaa him. He then goes an vita his history, «here

the translate bas taken it up, as folbvs :

Don Quixote, in the evening of the dar in whii^ Sancho had
receÍTed his admonitionj, Rare hjni a copy of them in writin^f, that he
might get them read to aim occasiaaally ; but ther were no sooner
deuveredto Sancho than be dropped them, and tliey fell into the
dnJce's hands, who commimicated them to the duchess, and both were
again surprised at the good sense snd msdness of Don Quiiote. That
very eTenini, in prosecution of their merry project, tliey deapatdied
SoDoho, whn a lai^ retinue, to the place which, to him, was to be an
ishmd. The person who bad the management of the business was
steward to the duke ; a man of mudi bamour, and who bad, besides, a
good understanding — indeed, without that there can be no true plea-
santry. He it was who had already personated the Lkiuatesa TnfaJdi
in the manner befwe related: and being so well qualified, and likewise
so well tutored by his lora and lady as to his behaviour towards
Sancho, no wonder be performed his part to admiratioo. Now it so
happened that the moment Sancho cast his eves upon this same
steward, he fancied he saw the very face of the Trifaldi; and, turning'
to his master, "The devil fetch me for an hmeat man asd a true
belierer," said he, " if your worship will not own that the faoe of this
steward is the very some as that of the afflicted hidy!"

Don Quiiote looked at the steward very earnestly, and, harinff
viewed mm from head to foot, he said, " There is no need, Sanebo, of

firing thyself to the devil either for toy honesty or faith ; for, though
know not thy meaning, I pkinlr see the steward's face is similar to
that of the afflicted lady : yet is tue steward not the afflicted lady, foe
that wonld imply a palpable contradiction, which, were we now to
examine and inqnire into, would only involve us in uoubte and diffi-
culties that might be stiil more ineiphcftblc. BeUeve mc, friend, it
is onr duty earnestly to pray that we may be protected from the
wicked wizards and enchanters that infest us." "Egad, sir, it is
no iestiug matter" quoth Sancho, " for I heard him speak just now,
ana methought the very voice of Madam Trifaldi sounded in my ears !
But I say nothing— only I shall keep my eye upon him and time
will show whether I am right or wrcing. Do so. Sonaho," quoth
Don Quixote; " and feil not to give me advice of all thou mayst dis-
cover in this afbir, and of all that ht^pens to thee in tby govern-

¿t length Sancho set out with a numerous train. He was dressed
like one a the Ions' robe, wearing a loose gown of sad-oobured cam-
let, and a oati of the same. He was mounted upon a mule, whidi ha
rode Ktneta fashion, and behind him, by the duke's order, was led his
Dapple, adorned with shining trappings of silk ; which so delighted
Sanebo that every now aud then be turned his heiwl to look npoi him,
and tbonght himself so happy that he would not have changed coo-
diiions with tbe emperor of Germany. On taking leave of toe duke
and duchess, he kissed their hands : at the same time be reodved hia
master's blessing, not without tears cm both sides.

Now, loving reader, let honest Sancho depart in peace, and in a
happy hour : the acoonnts hereafter given of ins condact in office mw.
perchance^ exdte thy mirth; but at the same time, let ns attend to
what befel his master oo tbe same night, at which, if thou doet not

HIB SASSES8 AT SANCHO's DEFABTCBS. 469

Imgli outri^t, Kt leait tlioQ wilt show th; teeth, &nd ^riii like a moit'
kef; forit la thepropertjof all the noble knight'sadvetitiires to pro-
duce either Burpriae or meniment.

It ia related, then, that immediBtely after Sancho's depflrtnre. Don
Quixote 'began to feel the solitary state in wHcii he vu now left, ajtd
lutd it been possihie for him to have revoked the coninmsian, and
deprived Sancho of hii goreroment, he would certainly have done it.
The duchess, perceiving this change, inqmred the cause of hissadness;
ftddinx that, if it was on account of Sancho's absence. Iier home oon-
tainea abundance of squires, duennas and damsels, all read; to serve
him to his heart's desire. " It is true, madam," answered Don.
Quixote, " that Sanclio's absence somewhat wewhs upoa my heart-
but that is not the principal cause of my appareoE sadness ; and of all
your excellency's kind offers I accept only of the (jood-will with which
they are tendered : saving that I humbly entreat that yonr eicellency
«ill be pleased to permit me to wait upon myself iu my on'u apart-
ment," "By my faith. Signer Don Quiiote," quoth the ducness.
" that must not be : you shall be serv^ by fonr of my damsels, al(
bmutífol M roses, "To me," answered Don Quixote, "they will
not be rosea, but even as thorns pricking me to the sont ; — they must
in nowise enter my chamber. If your graoe would continue vour
favours to me, unmerited as they are, suffer me to be alone, and leave
me without attendants in my chamber, that I may still keep a wall
betwixt my ]>BSBÍon3 and my modesty : a practice I would not forego
fbrallyour highness's liberality towards me;— in truth I would rather
sleep in my garments than consent that others should undress me."

"Enough, enougt Sijinor Don Quixote." rephed the duchess : " I
will surely give orders that not bo much as a fly shall enter your
chunber, much less a damsel. I would bf no means be acceúory
to the violatiou of Signor Don Quixote's dehoacy ; for, by what I can
perceive, the most conspicuous of his virtues is modesty. You shall
undress and dress by yourself, yonr own way, when and how yon
pleMe ; for no intruders sball invade the privacy of your chamber, in
whii¿ vou wiiJ find all the accommodation proper for those who sleep
with their doors closed, that there may he no necessity for opening
than. May the great Dulcinea del Toboso live a thousand ages, and
may her name be extended over the whole circumference of the earth,
for meriting the love of so valiant and so chaste a knight ! And may
indulgent Heaven infuse into the heart of Sancho Fanza, our govemor,
a disposition to ñnish his penance speedily, tliat the world may attain
enjoy the bettutv of so exalted a lady. "Madam," returned Don
Qaizote, " your highness luis spoken like yourself. From the mouth of
soexcelfcnt a ladv nothing but what is good and generous can proceed ;
and Dulcinea will be more happy and more renowned hj the praises
your grace bestows upon her tlian by all the applause lavished ov the
most eloquent orators upon earth," " Sir knight," said the duchess,
" I must now remind you tliat the hour of refreshment draws neaP;—
let us to supper, for the duke perhaps, is waiting for us, and we will
Mtire early, for you must needs be weary after your long jouruMves-
terday to Cimdaya." "Not in the least, madam." answered Don
Quixote ; " I can assure your (¡race that in all my life I never bestfode
a horae of an easier or better pace than Clavileno ; and I aumot imagine
what should induce Malambmno to deprive himself of so swift and m
genUe a steed, and without scruple thus rashly to destroy him. ' It
' A.OOgIC

470 non Qcrrcrri.

is not impossible," swd (he dnchess, "that repentina of the tmechieT
he had done to the Trifaldi and her attendúits, as well as to manv
other persons, and of the iniijoities he had commttted as a viiard and
an enchanter, he was determined to destroy all the implements of his
art, and accOTdiosV be hnmt Clavileno, ts the titincipal ; being tho
engine which enabled him to rove all over the world ; and thus by his
memorable destruction, and the record which he has caosed to be set
op, has eternized the memory of ¡rreat Don Quiiote de la Mancha."

Don Qiiixote repeated his thanlLS to the duchess ; and after sapper
he retired to his chamber, where, conformably to his determination, bo
remained alone ; Buffering no attendants to ^prooeh him, lest he
sfaonld be moved to transgress those bounds of virtuous decomm
which he had ever observed towards his lady Dolciiiea, and always
bearing in mind the cbastitv of Amadis. that flower and mirror of
kniehts-errsnt. He cimied his door after him, and undiesaed hims^
hj the Ught of two wax candles : bat on pulltog off his aUtckings — O
direful mishap, unworthy of mch a personage ! forth bursts— not
sighs, nor anything else unbeoomii^ the purity of his mannra^, but
some two dozen stitches in one of his stockings, giving it the resem-
btanceof a lattice window! The good kn^ht was extremely afflicted,
and wonld have ^ven an ounce of surer to have had just then a
^ — "■ — ' "- *■ saj green, because his stocldngs were of that

IS, " 0 poverty, poverty ! I cannot imagine

he great Cordovan poet to <sll thee ' a holy.

h a Moor, have learnt by the interoourse 1

istians, that holiness consists in charity,

and poverty. Yet I maintain that a man

to Qod's grace who can be contented in

it be of that kind to whidi one <rf their

ying, 'possess all things as not possessing

than poverty in spirit. But thou, I mean,

O second poverty ! accursed indigence ! it is of thee I would now

speak — wl^ dost thon intrude npon gentlemen, and delight in perse-

cuting the well-boni in preference to all otheta ? Why dost thon

force them to cobble their own shoes ; and im the same threadbare

garments wear buttons of everv kind and colour F Why must their

rufb be, for the moat put, ill-plated and worse starchedP" {Byths

way, this shows tbe antimiity ooth of starch and ruffs.) " Wretched

is the poor gentleman wW while he pampers his honour, starves his

body ; dining scurvUy or fasting unseen with liis door locked : then

out in the street he marches maiing a hypocrite of his toothpick, and

picking where, alas ! there was nothing to pick ! Wretched he, I

say, wbcoe honour is in a state of continual alarm ; who thinks that,

at the distance of a league, every one discovers the patch upon his

shoe, the greasiness of his bat, the threadbareness d his cirak, and

even the cravings of his stomach !"

All these melancholy reflections must hare passed through Dcm
Quixote's mind as be surveyed the fracture in his stocking ; nerothe-
less, he was much comforted on finding that Sancho had left him a
pair of travelling-boota, in which he immediately resolved to make his
appearance the next day. He now laid himself down, pensive and
beavy-hcarted, not more for lat^ of Sancho than fur the miafdrtune of
his stocking, which he wouhl gladly have darned, eren iríth silk of
, , . .A.OOgIC

anptW colour ¡—that most expressÍTe token of BentlemaiilT porertr 1
His lights were uow eitinsoúned, bnt tbc weatbcr was sultry, and no
could Dot compose himself to sleep ; he therefore got out of bi '

opened ft casement vhicb looked into the garden, which he h^ no
sooner done thau be heard the voices of some persons walking on the
terrace below. lie listened and could distinctly hear these words :
" Press me not to sing, dear Emerenci», fw yon know ever since this
stranger entered our castle and my eyes beheld him, I cannot sing, I
can only weep. Besides, mr hdv does not sleep sound, and I would
not for the world she should find ns here. Ent though she sboold
not awake, what wlU my singing avail, if this new .£uca3. who comes
bither onlv to leave me forlorn, awakes not to hear it ? "Do not
fancy so, dear Altisidora," answered the other, " for I doubt not bat
the duchess is asleep, and everybody else in the house except the
master of your heart, and disturber of yonr repooe: he, I am sure is
awake, for even now I heard his casement open. Sing, my unhappy
friend, in a low and sweet voice to the sound of your lute, and if my
lady should hearur - - " ' ' " "- -_■_. i... _* .1.-

answered Altisutora, " bat I fear lest my song ahoud betray my heart,
and that, by those who know not the nughtv force of love, I mishl be
taken for a light and wanton damsel; out come what may. I will

venture : better a blush in the face than a blot in the heart. And

Sreiently she began to touch a lute so sweetly that Doa Quixote was
siighled and surprised ; at the same time an infinite number of úmi-
lar adventures rusned into his mind, of casements, f^tes, and gardens,
serenades, courtships, and Hwoonings, with which his memory was well
stored, and he forthwith imagined that some damsel belonging to tlie
duchess had become enamoured oí him : though somewhat fearful of
the beautiful foe, be resolved to fortify his heart, and on no account
to yield ; so, commending tdms^ with fervent devotion to his mistress
Dulcinea del Toboso, he determined to listen to the mnsic; and,_to
let the damsel know he was there, he gave a fekued sneeze, at whicb
they were not a littlepleaaed, as the; desired above all things that he
shonld bear them. The hai; being now tonoi, ¿Itisidon began the
following —

BONO.
Wake, air Imlgfat, now love '■ iova^n^

Sleep in Uulliuid «beeW no more ;
Whm a nymph ii ■eranuling,

Tis Ru errant nhame U> «lors.
Hear a doiniel tall and tmder.
Moiuitiig in most rueful ¡cune.
With bean almott biim'd Lo cinilar.

By the Buubeama at tlij eyta.
To <rea dsmeeli Trom diaaater

la, they «ay, your daily care ;
Can you then deny a pinatar
To K wounded virgin here t
Tell me, deufb

With such IiL_

Was't BMne sullok bear dry-Duned ^¡m.
Or Bhe.disgti(i gave time «uek I

i: , .,..i,Googlc

Dov qfnxoa.

DnlnlTn^ that virago,

Well IIU7 brag ofBuib ft eid.
Now her btue is up. Bad Duy go

From Tol«do to Madrid.

Woold ibfl bat her pri» nmndar,
(Jadge boo on Hit foce I dot« '.)

In eichuigB I'd f^ul; «end her
Hj best gown and petticoat.

Hwipyl,

y I, «onld fartone doom me

: tfl hare me near thy bed,

Btroke tbe«, pat thse, cmrycomb ihoe,

And hunt o'er thy knighUy head.

But I aik too much, mncCTalj,

Aod I doubt I De'er miiM dot,
Pd but Urn joor toe, and fiirly

Oet the iñgth Ih» of yoor foot.

Hot Pd rig thae, and vhat riches

Should be heap'd opon thy bones !
Caaa and socks, and cloaks and breecboi,

Hatdhleai peorli and pnxnous itoaes.

Do not bom abare, like Kero,

gee me bun and slight mv voe.
But to quench my fires, my hero,

Cast a pitying eye bekiir.

I'm a Tirgin-puUet, truly;

One more tender ne'er wai seen :
A more chicken fledged but newly : —

Hang me ü I'm yet ñ/ieen.
Wind and limb, bH'b tigfat about me,

Hy hair dangiea to my bet ;
I am atraii^ Uo : — U you duubt mo,

Tnut your «yea, come down and seo't.
Pre n bob nose has no fellow.

And a sparrow's month as rare ;
Tooth like bright topatee, yellow;

Yet I'm deemed a beauty here.
You know what a rare inuñoiaD

(If jou hearken) oourts your choice ¡
I dare ny my disposition

li aa tokiiig «a my voice.

Here ended the song of the amorous Altísidora, «id b^aa the
sunn of theconrtedBoDQaixote; who, fetching a deep sigh, said
within himielf; "Why am I so unhappy a kmght-errant that no
damsel osn see bnt she must presently fall in lore with me ? Why is
the peerless Dulcinea so unlucky that she must not be suffered singly
to enjoy this my incomparable constancy f Qoeens, what would ye
harewithherp Empresses, why do ye persecute her F Damsels from
lonrteen to fifteen, why do ye plague herP Leave, leaTC the poor
creature ; let her trinmph and glory in the lot which love bestowed
upoD hei in the conquest of my heart, and the autiender of my oouL

A.OOgIC

«IBCHO IKSIAXUD flOYE&tlOR. 473

Take notice, enamoured multitude, that to Daloinea alone I am pasle
and sugar, and to all otbers flint. To her I am honey, sud to the rest
of ye, aloes. To me, Da)dnea atone is beautiful, discreet, liTely.
modest, and well-boni ; all the rest of her sex foul, loolish, ñclde, ana
base-liom. To be hers, and hers aloae, nature sent me into the world.
Let Altisidora weep or sinR, let the lady despair on whose account I
was buffeted in the castle of the enchanted Jloor j boiled or roasted,
Dulcinea's I must be, clean, well-bred, and diaste, in spile of all the
necromoutie powers on earth."

Having so said, he clap^ed-to the casement, and, in despite and
sorrow^ as if some great misfortune had befallen bim, threw himself
upon his bed, where we will leave him for the present, to attend the
great Sancho Fansa, «ho is desirous of De^uming his famous

CHAPTER XLVI.

noK tht greal SaneTiv Pana
nanner <¡f i

O THon ceaseless discoreret of the Antipodes, torcli of the world,
eje of Heaven, and sweet cause of earthen wine-coolers," here
Tbymbrius, tJiere Pbwbus ; here archer, there physician, father of
poesy, inventor of music ; thou who always risest, and, though thou
seemest to do so, never settest ; to thee, I speak, O sun ! by whose
assistance man begets man: thee I invoke to favour and enlighten
the obscnrity of mj genius, that I may be able punctually to describe
the goveroment of the great Sancho Panw; without thee I find myself
indolent, dispirited, and confused I

Sancho, then, with all his attendants, arrived at a town contaiiu'ng
about a thousand inhabitants, which was one of tlie largest and best
the duke bad. They (rave him to understand that it was called the
island of Barataría, either because Barataría was really the name of
the place, or because he obtained the government of it at so cheap »
rate. On his arrival near the gatea of the town, which whs walled
about, the municipal officers came out to receive hiro. The bellsrung,
and, with all the demonstrations of a general jov and a great deal of
pomp, the people condacted him to tlie great church to give thanks
. to God. Presently after, with certain ridiculoas ceremonies, they
presented him the keys of the town, and constituted him pei^-
toal governor of the island of Saratana. The garb, the beard, the
thickness, and shortness of the new governor, surprised all that were
not in the secret, and, indeed, those that were, wbo were not a few. ^
In fine, as soon as they had brought him out of the church, they car-
ried híni to the tribunal of justice, and placed him in the chair. The
duke's steward then said to him : — " It is an ancient custom here,
my lord govemor, that be who comes to take possession of this

* In S^ain they etS eaniimplomi rubII glam decántete or very nnsll
earUien pitchors, which, to oool tlie water ut the Eummar, m hung in a
ournototair. H«acs the odd epithet OarvantM apldies to t^ son.

A.OOgIC

474 DON 4OIZOTI.

fornona úland is obli;^ to amwer a qnesUon put to him, viuch
¡B to be Mimenhat intricate and diffitnlt. £7 liÍ3 anawer, the people
are enabled to feel the pulse of their new fto^entor'a imaeratfúdiug,
ani aceordii^ly, are eitTier glad or «wry for his coining."

While the sleword was saying this, Sancho was staring at some
capital letters mritten on the wall opposite to his chair, and, beii^
mufale to read, he asked what that writing was on the wall. He was
answered: " Sir^ it is there written on what diT yoor honour took
possession of this island. The inscriptíon rum tDus : ' litis da;, ísaA
a dar of the month and ;ear, Signor Don Sancho Panza tocdc possea-
sioQof this island. Long may heewof it.'" "Pt»» who is it thw
eall Don Sancho Pama ? " demanaed Sancho. " Toar lordship,
answered the stewaml; " for no other Panza, bcsidoB him now in the
chair, ever came mto this island." "Take notice, then, brother,"
letnrned Saocbo, " that the Dok does not belong to me, nor erei did
to any of mj famuy. I am called ]^n Sancho Panza ; my father was
a Sancho, and mr f^-andfather was a Saiicho, and they were all PanzAS,
withoDt any adaitioa of Doiit, 01 any other title whatever. I fsuey
there aro more Doiu than stoDea in this island. But enough, Qod
knows mj meanin?! and, perhaps, if my government lasts four da;»,
X map weed out these Dfñu that DveTTOii the coontry, and, t? their
numbers, are as troublesome sa mosquitoee and cousins.* On wiÜi
yonr question, master steward, and I will answer the beat I can, let
the people be taaj or rqoice.

About thiB time two men came into the ooort, the one clad like ■
conntry-fellow, sod the Other like a tailor, witha pair of shea» in his
hand ; and the tailor said : " My lord goveroM^ I and this oonntij-
mon come before yoor wcHrship by reason this honest man cama
yesterday to my abap (saving yoar presence, I am a tailor, and have
passed my examination, God be thanked), and putting a ¡Áece of
doth into my hands, aslúd ne ; ' Sir, is there enongb of this to make
me a cap ? ' I, measoring the piece, answered yea. Now be, think-
ing, thai dovlÁless I bad a mind to cabbage some of the clotb,
Kroonding his conceit upon his own knavery, and upon the oonuncn
ul opinioQ of taikira, bade me view it ag^ and see if there was not
enough for two. 1 guessed bis drift, sud told him there wu. Fet-
aisting in his knavish intentions, my ouatomet went on inoteMÍng the
number of cape, and I atiU sa^ng yes, till we came to five caps. A
little time ago he came to claim them. lofoedthemtohim, outhc
refuses to pay me for the making, and insists I aball either return him
his cloth, or pay him for it." Is all this so, brother F " demanded
Sancho. " Yea," answered the man ; " but pray, mv lord, make him
be five caps he has made me." " Wiui all m; he«i^"
' ¡r his cloak, M
nb, sayingi

_™ — „t.„ ,.„„„^. — „™. — _„ lake, andan

my soul and ooiucicnoe, not a shred of the cloth is left, and I sabmit .
me work to be viewed by any inspectors <^ the trade. All present
laughed at the number of the caps and tlie novel^ of Üie suit
Baoeho reflected a ni(»nent, and then said : " I am of opinion then
needs no great delay in this suit, and it m^ be decided very equitaUj

off hand. Therefore I pronomice, that the tailnr ]ose the making, and
the conntrTDian the stuff, uid that the c&ps be confiacatt!<l to the om
irf the poor ; and there ia an end of that."

If the sentence Sancho aftenrards passed on the porse of the
Lerdsman caoaed the adrairation of all the bjatanders, this excited
theür langhter. Howerer, what the ROTemor oonimanded was exe-
cuted, and two olA men next presented themselvea before him, Oiifl
of them carried a cane in his band for a sta^i the other, who had do
staff, said to 3an<^ : " M; lord, some time ago I lent this man ten
erowDs of gold to obliRe and serve him, upon condition that he should
ietura them on demand. I let some time pass witliout asking tor
tbem_, being loth to pnt him to a ¡rreater strait to pay me thiui he
Was m when I lent them. But at length, thinking it full time to be
repaid, I askedhimformy money more than once, hnt tono pnrpose:
tie not onlT refuses pajnneDt, but denies the debt, and says I nerer
lent him any audi sam, or, if 1 did, that he had already p¿d me. I
hare no witnesses to the loan, nor has he of the payment which he
pretends to have made, bnt which I deny ; yet if he will swear before
yonr worship that be has returned the moner, I from this minute
aequit him before God and the world." " What say you to this,
old gentleman P " quoth Sancho. " I confess, my lord," replied the
old teUow, "thatbedid lend me the money, and if your worship
^CMes to hdd down your wand of rnstice, since he leares it to my
oath, 1 will swear I have really and tndr returned it to him." The
goTemor accordingly held down his wand, and the old fellow, seeming
anonmbered with his staff, rave it to his creditor to hold whue he was
swearing ; and then taking notd of the cross of the wand, he aaid it
was true indeed the other had lent him ten crowns, bnt that he had
restored them to him into his own hand ; but having, he supposed,
forgotten it, he was continual!? dnnninr him for them. Upon which
hia lordship the governor deiminded of the creditor what be had to
say in reply to the solemn declaration he had beard. Be said that be
aanmittea, and oonld not doabt bnt that his debtor had sworn the
troth ; for he believed him to be an honest man and a good Chiis-
tian; and that, as the fault mnsrt have been in his own memory,
bo wonid thenceforward ask him no more for hia money. The
debtor now took his staff again, and bowing to the governor, went
ont of court.

3anoho having observed the defendant take his staff and walk
away, and noticmg abo the resignation of the plaintiff, he began to
meditate, and layíng the fore-nnger of his nght hand upon tía
lorehead, be continued a short time apparently fall of thought ; and
then raising his head, he ordered the old man with the staff to bo
called beck : and when he had returned, " Honest friend," said the
governor, give me that staff, for I have occasion for it." " With
all my himrt," answered the old fellow ; and delivered it into his
I hand. Sancho took it, and immediately giving it to the other old
man, he aaid, " "Hiere, take that, and go about yonr business in
Gods name, ftir yon are now iMiid." "I paid, my lord!" an.
■wered the old man, "what! is this cane worth ten golden
crowns ? " " Yes," quoth the governor, " or I am the greatest dnnce
in the world : and it shall now appear whether or not I have a head
to govern a whole kingdom." He then ordered the cane to be broken
m ctnut i which being done, ten crowns of giAá were found within it.

4/0 DOK qUIZOTB.

All the spedatois were stniok with admiration, imd began to look
upon ttieir new Kovemor as a second Solomon, lley asked bim )ioir
lie had discoverea that the ten crowns were in the cane F He told

n bands, aod that bebg done he took his staff ^ain, it came

into tiis lead that the mone^ in dispute must be inclined within it.
From this, he added, tbef might sec that it sometimes pleased God
to direct tne judemeuts of those who govern, thoi^h otherwise little
better than olockiieads. Besides, he bad heard the curate of his
parish tell of sucb another bnaiuess, which was still in his mind j
indeed he had so special a memoryj that, were it not that be was so
unlucky as to forget all that be cniefly wanted to remember, there
would not have been a better b the whole island. The cause being
ended, the two old men went away, the one abashed and tbe other
satisfied ; and the secretory, who minut«d down the words, actions,
&ml behaviour of Sancho Panza, could not yet determine in hit
own mind wbetb^ he shonld set him down for wise or simple.

This cause was no sooner ended, than there came into court a
woman keepiue fast hold of a man clad like a rich herdsman. She
came, c:^g aloud : " Justice, my lord goTemor, justice ! If I can-
not find it on earth, I will seek it in heaven ! Lord governor of my
soul, this wicked man surprised me in the middle of a field, and made
use of my person as if it nodbern a dish-clout. Woe is niel he lias
robbed me of what I have kept aJxire these three-and-twenty years,
defending it against Moors and Christians, natives and focei^ers.
Have I been as bard aa a cork-tree, and preserved myself as entire
as a salamander in the fire, or as wool among bncrs, that this
honest man should come with his clean bands to handle me ! "
" That remains to be inquired into," said Sancho ; " let us now
proceed to see whether this gallant's bauds are clean or not ;" and,
turning to the man, he asked him what he had to say in answer
to this woman's complaint. The man all b confusion, replied:
" Sir, I am a poor herdsman, and deal in swbe ; and this morning I
went out of this town, after having sold, nnder correction be it
spoken, four hogs - and, what between dues and exactions, tbe officers
took from me httle less than they were worth. As I was returning
homt, by the way I lighted upon this good dame, and the devil, the
author of all mischief, yoked us ttwetner. I pajd her handsomely :
but, she, not contented, laid bold of me, and has never let me go tUl
she has dragged me to tbls place. Shi ^ ' ' ' ■ ■ >

the oath I have taken, or am to take, i
truth."

Then the governor asked him if he had any silver money abont
him. The man answered that he had about twenty ducats in a
leathern purse in his bosom. Sancho ordered him to produce it, and
deliver it just as it was to the plamtiff. He did so, trembling ; tbe
woman took tbe purse, and making a thousand curtsies, and prayiiw
to God for the life and health of the lord governor, who took such
care of poor orphans and maidens, out of the court she went, holding
the purse withVith bands, taking care first to see if the money that
was m it was silver.

She had no sooner left the room, than Sancho said to the herdsman,
whowasin tears, and whose eyes úd heart were gone «fterhispnrse:

A.OOgIC

THX GOTXXKOB'B «tSDOII. 477

" Honeet mail, ¡oUow tbnt woman, and take ava; the parse frotn
lier, vhether she will or not, and come back hither with it." This
was not said to one deaf or stupid, for the man instantW flew after
her like lightning, and vent about doing what he wns bidden.

All present were in great suapenae, eipecting the issue of this anit.
In a few miuutps canie b the man and tne woman, clinping together
closer than the first time, she with her petticoat tucked \ip and the
pone lapped np in it, and the maa strolling to take it from her, but
m Taii^ she defended it so stmitlj'. Justice from God and the
world! cried she at the top of her lungs: "See, ni;^ lord governor,
the impudence and «ant of fear of this rarlet, who, in the midst of
the town and of the street, would take from me the purse ^our
worship commanded to be given to roe." " Ajid has he got it f "
denuuoed the goveraor. Got it!" answered the woman; "I
would sooner let him lake away my life thsio mj pnrse. A prettT
babf I should be, indeed ! Other-guise cata miüt ckw m/ beard,
and not such pitiful, sneaking tools as this. Pincers and hammers,
crows and chisels, shall not ^t it oat of my cintiles, nor eren the
paws_ofahon. Mj soul
the right," added the man -,
confess IbaTe not Strength ei
be left her.

Then aúd the governor to tbe woman ; " Give me that purse, chaste
and raliant heroine." She presently delivered it, and tbe govenior
returned it to the man, and said to the Tiolent but not violated
damsel : " Sister of mbe, had you shown the same, or but half as
much, courage and resolution in defending your ohastitv, as you have
done in defending your purse, the strei^^ of Hercules could not
have forced you. Begone, in God's name, and in in ill hour, and b«
not found in all this island, nor in six leagues round about it, upm
pain of two hundred stripes. Begone, instantly, 1 say, thou pnUmg.
shameless, cheating hussey ! " The woman was confounded and
wentana?, hanging down her head and not very well pleased. " Now,
friend," said the governor to the man, " m Heaven's name, get
you home with yoor nioney, and henceforward, if you would avoid
worse luck, joke not with such cattle." The countryman thanked
bim in the best manner be could, and went his way, leaving all
the court in admiration at tbe aout«ness and wisdom of their new

Kvemor: all of whose sentences and deorees, being noted down
the appointed historiographer, were immediately transmitted to
the duke, who waited for these acoounta with the utmost impa-
timce. Here let us leave honest Sonobo and return to his master,
Tirho earnestly requires our attendance — Altisidora's serenade having
strangely discomposed his mind.

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTEE XLVII.

Wx left thetp^at l>niQaiiote Jnbed.lianMeilwiUiit&ctioiisDii
ihe conduct ot tbe love-^ricken Akúidora; not to mention othns,
whicb arose from Uie disaster of Us «tockinc. He earned tbem with
Um to hii ooiich, and had Uu? been fieas, tlie} ecnld not men effec-
tnallf have distvbed hi* icat. Bat Time ii encmonns; ncAhini;
«an impede his oonree, ftT^r^ on hfi came prancing it«Ámg m^ ^t ft
brisk pace, the wdoosie momi vhich was no sooon peieeived far
Don Quixote than-fonakioc hiisiUow, bebaatily put «i hisebomat
óod>iet, and aboiiis tRveQing-Dooti^ to conoeal the miafortnne of
his stodÓDK He tba thnw o>ver ma shonUen hia acailet mantle,
■ndpntouhisheadagren*elTet«^)bÍBimedwitli aAverlace: hit
sh&rp and tnisty blade he oeit slnng over his ehonlder bf its belt,
and now, taking up a large rosarf, which he alwa;8 earned aboat
him, he matehea with neat stide and solenmit? towards the ant»-
obajnber. when the duke and duchess euMcted him ; and, aa he
rnssed tbroDBh the gaUei?, he aicounteied Xltitidon aiLd her dsmsd
friend, who bad placed thñoselves in bb tnj.

The moment ¿Itisidont caught sight of lum, she pretended to fall
into a swoon, and dromed into the aims <¿ her eoiapankm, who in haste
began (o unclasp her bosom. Don ÚnÍiote,abaemng this, qtpsoached
thein, and tumiDS to Uie damsel, "I well know the meanmg of this,"
Mid he, " and whence these famtings proceed." " It is more than 1
do," replied her friend, " for this I am sore o^ that no damsel in ali this
family had better health than Altisidora ; 1 have never heard so much
as a High from her since I have kuown her ; — ill betide all the knighto-
errant in the world, say I, if they are all ao angrateful. Pray, my
lord Don Quixote, for pity's sake leave this place ; for this poor
voung creature will not ocHoe to herself while yoa are near."

Madani," said tbe knight, " be pleased to order a Inte to be left
in my chamW to-uÍfht, ana I «ill oomfinrt this noor damsel aa bra*
I am able ; for love m the beginning is moet easfly cured."

He then retreated^ to avoid observation ; and ¿Itiaidon, inune-
diatelf recovering m>m her swoon, said to her oompanion, " By
all nieana let him have the lute; for donbUesa he intends to give ua
some music, vhich being his, cannot but be precious." When they
gave the duchess an account of their jest, and of Don Quixote's
desire to hate a lute in his apartment, she was ejceedinaly diverted,
and seized the occosioo, in concert witii tbe duke and Jier women,
to plot neff schemes of harmless merriment ; with great glee, there-
fore, tiiey waited for night, which, notwithstándioK their mipatienos,
did not secin tard}^ in its ^proach, since the day wsa spent in
relisliiug conversaliou with Don Quixote. On tbe same day the
duchess bad also des)>atched a p^e of bers (one who had personated
Dulcinea in the wood} to Teresa I'anza, with her husband's letter

A.OOgIC

DOK <)UIX0TB'B aOKG. <79

aad'tliebiuuDebeluulkfttolw wnt; cliwging him to bring back an
tXMt toooDnt oT eU that shoaM [«ss.

At the hour of eleven Don Quixote retired to Itia láuunber, wliere
be found & lut«^ ua he hod deaired. After toudiing the iw^nient
lightlf, he opened hia casement, and, on liitenin^ heard footsteps in
the garden; «bereiq^on he again nmoftc the strings of his inttru-
meni, and, aflwr tuning it as nicely as he ooold, he hemmed, cleared
his utroaL and then, vilh a boiao, tbouh not uimwiiinal voice,
sung the following loag, « hioh he hurí tiiiTm-T/ composed that daf : —

Lons wUh idhBM iti fritod,

But let biuincea tmi eroploymaot
im up ev'iy coivful momeat j
These ao antidote will prore
■Qaiiut the pois'iiDui arts of love.
Maidena thnt upin to marry,
Ib thdr looks rsMrre should oany ;
iloimllij thtlr prioB should ralM,
Aim! be tks Wiald of Oi^ pnin.

ijrluñliuid

inly i£ooM

ia iha nuptial oooae.
Lata tbat rues with the sun,
Witli hie Betting beams is gona :
Love that ^est'tibe visita boart^

Whera a aoverai^ bswitf ragns,
FruitlflSE are a ncal'a pains —
O'er a flnbh'd picture wbo
E'er a sacoud ^cture dr^'W !
Ttir Dulcinea, qu^sn of beauty,
Rules my heart, and dajuu its duty,
Kothing Uier« Dan take her plaoa,
NoDght her image oan arase.
IVliMbar tetmie amils or frown.

Thus fat had Don Quixote proceeded in hia gong, which was heard
by the duke and dachess, ATtisidora, and almost all the inmates of
the castle ; when Bnddenly from an opeo gallery direetlj over Don
Quixote's window, a rope was let down, to which above a hundred
little tinkling bells were iastened ; and immediately after, a huee
sackful of cats, each fumished with siioilar bells, tied to tiieir toiTs,
was also let down to the window. The noise mode by Ihrsc cats
and bells was so great and strange that the duke and duchess,
though the inventors of thejest, were alamied, and Dun Quixote
himself was panic-struck. Two or three of tbe cats made theit
way into his room, where, scouring about from side to side, it
seemed as if a legion of devils hod brdua loose, and were flying

r , . A.OO'^IC

«o DON QUITÓTE.

about tbe room, Tbey soon extinguished the lights in the chamber,
and endeavoured to miÜEC their escape; in the mean time the rope
to which the bella were fustened nas plarii^ its part, and ftdded.
U> the discord, insomuch that all those who «ere not iu the secret
of the plot were amazed and confounded.

Don Quixote seized bis sword, and made tlimats at the caaement,
ctj'ing out alond, "Avannf, ye malicióos enchanters; anont, je
wizard tribe ! for I am Don Quixote de la Mancha, against wtuÑn
;om wicked arts avail not." Then, assailing the oats m the rooio,
they fled to the window, where they all escaped eioept one, whicb,
bebg hard pressed by ihe knight, spnin? at bis face, and, fixing hta
cIaws in bis nose, made him roar so loud that tbe duke and duehess,
faeañng and guessing the canse, ran up in baste to his chamber, which
they opened with a master-key, and there tbey foimd tbe poor gen-
tleman endearouring to disengage the creature from his faoe. On
observing the nnequal combat, the duie hastened to relien Dou
Quixote; but he cned out, " Let no one take him off! leave me to
battle with Ibis demon, this wisard, this enchanter! I will teach him
what it is to deal with Don Quixote de la Mancha ! '* The cat, how.
ever, not regaidiof^ tbese menaces, kept her bold till the duke bappilr
disengaged the furious animal, and put bim out of the window.

Don Quixote's face was hideously scratched all over, not eioeptñig
his nose, which had fared but ill • nevertheless, he was mnch dissttia-
fied by the interference which had prevented him from chastising
that vilknous enchanter. Oii of Aparicio was brought for him, and

o whip himself, that your darliog Doi-
from her enchantment, nor yon «verbs

blest with her emWoes— at least, so long as I, your unhappy adorer,
aball live!" To all this Don Quixote answered only with a profoniid
sigh, and then stretched himself at full length upon his bed. thanUng
the duke and dnchess, nut for their assistance against toat catiah,
bell-rín^ng, crew of rascally enchanters, which be despised, bol for
their kmd intention in coming to his sucoonr. His noble ñieuda
then left him to repose, not a Eltle eoncemed at the event of their
jest, on which thev had not calculated: (or it was far frfaa tbesr
intention that it should prove so severe to tbe worthy knight as to
cost him Bve days' confinement to his chamber. During that period,
however, an adventure befel him more reliahing than the former, bat
which caimot, in this plac& be recorded, as t£e histmian mast nov
turn to Sancho Panza, who bad, hitherto, proceeded very smooth!; in
bis govenuueat.

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTER SLYUI.

Giving a fUTthrr accmnt qf SamAo'i iehatiaur in hit gontrameii I.

The history relates that Sanclio Punza was condacted from the
court of justice to a sumptuona yidsce. where iu a great hall he found
a maitiincent entertainment prepared. He bad no sooner entered,
than his e»is Tcere sahited by tlie sotind of many instrumenta, ana
lour pages served him with water to wash hb bands, whieh the
(tovemor receited with becoming granty. Tlie music havini ceased,
Sancho now sat down to dinner in a cliair of state placed at the nppef
end of the table ; for there was but one seat, and only one plate and
napkin. A personáis who, as it afterwards appeared, was a phvaioian,
took his stand at one aide of his chair with a whalebone rod in his
hand. They then remo»ed the beaatiful white cloth which covered a
Taricty of fruits and other eatables. Grace was said by one in a
stndeñt's dress, and a laoed bib was placed by a page under Kimcho's
chin. Another, who performed the office of sewer, now set a plate of
fruit before him; but he liadacaroelytastedit, when, on being touched
by the wand-bearer, it was snatched away^ and another containing
meat instantly supplied its place. Yet, bóore Sancho oonld make a
' ¡finning, it vanished, like tlie former, on a sipial of the wand.

besinnin
'I'hep

" My lord," said the wand-bearer, " your lordshiji's food must here be
watched with the same care as is customary with the governors of
Other islands. I am a doctor of physic, sir, and my duty, for which I
receive a salarr, is to watch over the gwernor's health, whereof I am
more careful tnan of my own. I study his constitution niaht and
day, that I may know how to restore him when sick ; and fberefore
think it ÍDcumbent on me to pay especial regard to bis meals, at which
1 constantly preside, to see that he eats wliat is good and salntary,
and prevent his touching whatever I imagine may be prejudicial to
bis health, or offensive to his stomach. It was for that reason, my
lord," continued he, " I ordered the dish of fruit to be taken away, aa
bebg loo watery, and tbat other dish as being too hot, and oreN
seasoned with spices, wfaich are apt to provoke thirst ; and he that
drinks much destroys and consumes the ñdical moiature, iríúcfa is the
fuel of life."

" Well, then," qnofli Sancho, "that plate of roasted partridge*
which seem to me to be verv well seasoned, I suppose will do me ná
manner of harmp" "Hola," said the doctor; "¡y lord governor
shall not eat them while I five to prevent it." "Pc/, why notP"

iuotli Sancho. " Because," answered the doctor, " onr great master
iippocrates, the north-star and luminary of meáÍBine, says in one of
his aphorisms, Omni» latitratiú mala, perdieit autem pemaa ; which
means, 'All repletion is bad, bnt that from partridges the worst.'"
"If it be so,"^ quoth Sancho, "pray cast your eye, si-nior doctor,
over all theae dishee here on the tables and see wbidi will do me the

meet good, or tbe leatt bum, and let me «at of it, villioat vliisUis
it awK¡ with TOUT aH^mine-ittck : for, bj mj toot, and as UeATca
ehall gire me ufe to entoy tlu» fOTenunent, I am dnng with huogtr :
and to den; me food— let aigiior docto- mj wiwt be will— it out the
vur to lengthen mj Ufé, but to cut it short."

Your worship i3 in the right, nj lord goveraor," anawered Uh
pfajucim, " and therefore I am of opinion you should not eat of these
slewed ru)bits, is being a food that is ton^ aud acute ; of that vmI,
indeed, ;on might lure taken a little, tiad it been neither roasted dot
atewed; but as it ie, not a motacl." " What lliink you, tlien," said
Sancho, "of that huge dish there, smoking-hot, which I take to be an
oUB-podrida? — fur, among the man; things contained in it, laurel; ma;
light upon something both wholesome and toolhsoioe." "Ahsit!"
quoth the doctor ; " fai be Buch a thought from lu. Olla-podrida !
tbeie is no worse diih in the world ;— Éafe them U> prebends aud
rectors of colleges, or luBt; feeders at country wcddiiusi but let them
not be seen on the tables of govemoiB, where unthii^ contrat; to
health and delicacy shoold be tolerated. Simple medicines are always
more estimable and safe, (or in them there can be no mistake ;
whereas, in such as are oompounded, all is hazard and uncertainty'.
Therefore, what I would at present advise my lord f^rentor to eat, la
order to coTToborate and preserve his besltb, is about a hundred small
roUed-up wafers, with aonx thin slices of marmalade that ma; sit
npoD the stomach, and help diction."

SanchOghcortng tbis,threw hmiEcIf backward in his chair,aDd,!ooking
at I he doctor from head to foot ver; seriously, asked him his name,,
and where he had studied. To which he answered, "My lord aovemor
my name is Doctor I'edro Bezio dc i^ero ¡ I am a native of a place
«died Tirteafuera, lying between Catwiucl and Almoddobar del
Campo, on the right hand, and I have taken my doctor's degrees in
the umvereit; of Ossona." " Then hark you," said Sancho, in a n^,
" SÍRnor Doctor Pedro Eezio de Agnero. native of TirteaJfueni, lymg
on lliG right liand as we go from Cü^uel to AJmoddobar del üampo.
graduate m Ossnn^ get out of my sight this instant I — or, by the light
of heaven, 1 will take a cudgel, and, oeginnins with your carcase, will
so belabour all the physic-mongets in the isloud. that not one of the
tribe shull be left !— 1 mean of those hke youiself, who ar« ignorant
quncks ; for those who are lesjned and wise 1 shall make mndi o^
and honour as so man; angels. I say again, Signor Pedro Biak^
bcgoue ; or I shall Uke the chair I sit on, aikd comb jom head U>
some tunc; and, if I am called to an account fw it when Ig^ve up my
oBkf^ I shall piore that I have done a good service, in ridding the
world of a badjihysidan, who is a public executioner. Body of me !
five me aomelhing to eat, or let them take back their government :
Im an^ office that will not find a man in victuals ia not worth two

On seeing the governor in such a fury, the doctw would have fled
out in the ball, had not the sound of a courier's horn at that instant
been heard in the street. " A courier from my Itn^ dijce," swd the
«ewer (who hud looked out of the windowl "and he must certainly
have brought despatches of importance." The courier cntored haalily,
loamiiig with sweat, aud in great agitation, and, pulling a packet out
of his bosom, he delivered it into the governor's hands, and by him it
nas given to the steward, teltmg him to read the supenKription, which

*as thia ; " To Don Sancho Panza, governor of the island of Bara-
taría, to be delivered only to bimself, or to bb secretary." "Who is
my secreUry P" &aid Sancho. "It la I, my lord " anfrwered one who
was present, " for I can read and write, ana am, besides, a Biscayan."
"Wilh that addition," quoth Sancho, "you may ícrjwellbeaecrétaiT
to the emperor himself ;— open the packet, and see what it holds,''
The new secretary did so, and having run his eye over the contents,
be said it was a business wuieh rcQuired privacv. Accordingly, Sancho
commanded all to retire excepting the steward and sewer ; and when '
the hall was cleared, the secretary read the following letter :

"It has jnst come to my knowledge, Sigcor Bon Sancho Panza,
that certain enemies of mmc intend very soon t« make a desperate
attadi, by night, npon the island under your oommand ; it is nece9>
aai7, therefore, to tie vigilant and alert, that you m^ not be taken by
surprise. I have also received intelligence, from trusty spies, that
four persons in disguise are now in your town, sent thither by the
enemy, who, fearfulofyonr great talents, have aoesign npon your life.
Keep a strict watch ; be careful who are admitted to you, and eat
mothmg sent you as a present. I will not fail to send yon assistance
if you are in want of it. Whatever nmy be attempted, I have full
relumce on your activity and judgment.

" Your friend, the Ddkb.

" From this phice, the ) 6th of Augnst, at four in the morning."

Sancho was astonished at this information, and the others appeared
tobe no less so. Atlength, turning to the steward, "Iwill tfllyou,"
said he, " the first thing to be done, which is, to clap Doctor Rerio into
a dungeon ; for if anybody has a destzn to kill me, it is he, and that
by the most lingering and the worst of all deaUis—starvation." " Be
that as it may," said the steward, "it is my opinion your honour
would do well to eat none of the meat here upon the table, for it was
presented by some nuns, and it ia a saying, fhe devil lurks behind
the cross.'" "You are in the right," qaoth Sancho, "and forthe
present, give me only a piece of bread and some four pounds of grapes ;
— there can be bo poison in them ; for, in truth, I cannot live without
food, and if we must keep in readiness for these battles that threaten,
ns, it ia fit that we should be well fed ; for the stomach upholds the
Wrt, and the heart the man. Do you, Mr, Secretary answer the
letter of my lord duke, and tell him his oomroands sh^l be obeyed
throughout most faithfully; and present my dutiful respects to my
ladv duchess, and b^ her not to tbr^t to send a special mesaenger
witn my letter and bundle to my wife Teresa Panz^ which I shíJl
take as a particular favour, and will be her humble servant to tíie
utmost of my power. And, by the way. you may put in my hearty
service to my master Don Quixote de fa Mancha, that be may set
that I am neither forgetfol nor m^rateful ; and as to the rest, I leave
it to Tou, as a good secretary anda trua Biscayan, to add whatever
you please, or that may turn to the best account. Now away with
this cloth, and bring me something that may be eaten, and then let
these spies, murderers, and enchanters, see how they meddle with me
or my island."

A page now entered, saying, " Hera ia a countryman who would
■peak with your lordship on husmeas, os lie says, of great impratance,"

484 DOS QDIXOTX.

"It is very atraoge," quoth Sandio, "tiiat these n.

ehould be so sxliy as not to sec l^ftt this is uot a time for such mattcis.
"What ! we who govern and are judges, iielike, are not loade of flesli
and bone like otuer men ? "tt'e are made of marble-atone, fonoolb,
and have no need of rest or refreshment ! Before Heareo, and upoD
my conscience, if my government last», aa I have a glimmeriiig it will
not, I shall hamper moic than one of these men of busbess ! Well,
ht this once, tell the fellow to come in ; but first see thnt he is no
spy, nor one of my murderers." " He loulis, my lord," answered <h#
page, " like a simple fellow : and I ara much nibtakcn if he be not a»
notmless as a crust of bread." '' Your worship iteed not fear," quolh
the steward, "since we arenith you." "But now that Doctor Pedro
KezLO is gone," quoth Banclm may I not have something to eat of
sabstaiice and weight, though it ncre but a luncheon of bread and aii
onion f" "At night your honour shall hare no caúselo compliuu,"
quotli the sewer; "supper aliall m^e up for the want of dumer.'*

Hearen grant it maj, replied Sancho,

The countryman, «'ho was of ^odlr presence, Uien came in, and it
might be seen a thousand leagues off tnat be was an honest, good souL
"Wliich among you here is the lord goveinorF" said he. "Wh»
should it he," answered the secretary, " but he who is sealed in ths
chair ?" " I humble myself in his presence," quoth the countryman :
and kneeling down, he beg^d for his hand to kiss, Sancho refused
it, and commanded him to rise and tell his bnainess. The countrymua
did so, and said, " My brd, I am a husbandman, a native of Miguel
Terra, tivo leapies iroin Ciudad Keal." "What! another Tirtea-
fnerar' ouoth Sancho — "say on, brother; for let mc tell yon,lknQW
Miguel Terra very well ; it is not very far from my own village."
"The business is this, sir," continued thepcaaant: " by the mercy of
Heaven, 1 was married in peace and in the face of the holy Roiuaa
Catholic CImrch. I have two sons, bred scholar?; the younger
studies for bachelor, and the elder for licentiate. I am a widower —
for my wife died, or rather a wicked physician killed her by improiici
medicines when she was preanant; and if it hod been Gods will that
the child had been bom, and had proved a son, I would bare put him
to study for doctor, that he mivht not enry his two brotbers, the
bachelor and the Uccntiate." " So tjiat, if your wife," quoth Sauchot
" had not died, or had not been killed, you would not now be »
widower ! " " No, certainly, my lord," answered the peasant. " We
aro much the nearer," replied Sancho—" go on, friend ; for thia is an
hour rather for bed ihan business."

" 1 say, then," quoth the countiyman, " that my son wlio is to bo
the bachelor, fell in love with a damsel in tiie same village, called
Clara Perlorino. daushter of Andres Perlerino, a vcrv rich farmer j
which name of Perlerino came to them not by lineal or any other
descent, but because all of that race arc paralytic ; and lo mend the
name, they call them Petlerinos: — indeed, tos^the truth, the damsel

is like any oriental pearl, and looked at on the nght side, f

flower of the held; "" ' — •'--'-'' --' ---' — '-■- ■■--

she wants an eye, t , , „.. „_

fits in her face are mauvaud deep, her admirers say they ai:e not pits,
ut graves wherein the hearts of nor lovers are buried. So clean ana
delire, too, is she, that, to prevent dcGliug her face, she carries her
nose so hcokfd np that ¡t seems to fly from her mouth: jet for all

A.OOgIC

ajiScso'B JUST isDiasATioN. tS5

Hiftt she looks diarminglr : for she has a lari^e moutli ; and did she
not Uck half a score or a dozen fVont tet^tli, s)ie might pass and make
a Si^ure among the Cairest. I saf nothing of her hps, for they are so
thin that Tcre it the ^hion to reel lips, one miglit make a skein of
tliem ; but, being of a different colour from what is usnal in lips, they
have a marvclious appearanoe; for thev are streaked nithhlue, gri^n,
and orangc-lomiy. Pardon nje, good my lord govemor, if I pamt so
minutely the parts of her who is aboat to become my danahter ; for
in truth I love and admire her more than I can tell." " faint what
yon will," quoth Bancho, " for I am miijhtily token with the picture ;
and had I out dined, I would have desired no better dessert," " It
shall be always at your service," replied the peasant, " and the time
raaT come when we may be noimaintcd. though we are not so nowi
ana I assure wi, my lord, if I could out paint her genteel air, ana
the tatlness of her person, jou would be ammed; but that cannot be,
because she is donoled and folded up together in such wise that her
knees touch her mouth ; yet you may see plainly that, could she but
stand upright, her head for certain would touch the ceilin?. In line.
Ion? ere now would she have ¡Hven her hand to my bachelor in mar-
riage, but that she cannot stretch it out, it is so snrunk ; neverthe-
less, her long guttered naüs show the goodness of its make."

" So far, 50 ?oo(l," quoth Sancho ; " and now, brother, that you

liave painted her from head to foot, what is it you woidd be at? come

to the point, without so many windings and turnings." " What I

desire, my lord," answered the countryman, "is, that your lordship

would do me the favour to give mo a letter of reoommendation to her

fether, be^gin; his consent to the match, since we are pretty equal

in the gifts of fortune and of nature : for, to say the trutii, my lord

governor, my son is possessed, and scarcely a day {lasses in which tha

evil spirits do not torment bin three or four times- and havinfc

thereby once fallen into the fire, his face is as shriveilea as a piece of

scorched parchment, and his eyes are somewhat bleared and mnuitiz:

bot, bless him ! he has the temper of an an^l ; and ilid he not buSet

and belaboQT himself, he would be a very saint for seutleness."

"VFould vou have anvthine else, honest friend?" said Sancho.

qnoth the peasant, " but that I dora

rhat may, it shall uot rot my breaat,

h your worship to (tive me three or

iding the fortuuc of my bachelor — I

house ; fco- it is agreed tlicy sliall live

ibject to the ini pertinences of their

1 Sancho, "see if there is anything

it aqneamish in asking," " No, no-

lant. The governor then rising, and

id been seated, exelaiined, " I vow to

iimpkin, ifjoudo not instantly get

lur head with this chaii ! Son oi a

awn painter ! At this time of day to

bed ducata ! 'Where should I have

niL idiot ! why should I give them to

Turra, or for the whole race of tha

■ by the Ufe of my lord duke, I will

art no native of Miguel Tuira, but

_ to tempt me. Impudent scoundrel!

A.OOgIC

4S6 DON QDtSOTB.

I have not yet hid the goremment b diiy and a half, and ytm expeot
I should have sU hundred dacats!" The sewpr mada iipia to tha
countrjmaii to go ont of the hall, which he did, hanirinR down liis
head, and scemmj^ly nrnch afraid lest the gortmor should put fan
threat into execution ; for the knave knew Tery well how to play his

But kt us leave Sancho in his paasion— peace be with him 1 and
turn to Don Qniiotc, whom we left with his face boimd np, and imder
cure of his catish wounds, which were eight days in nealaig ; in
the course of that time, circumstances occnrred to him which Cid
Hamctc promised to relate with the same truth and pTecision which
he has observed in everything, however minuCe, appertaining to this
history.

CHAPTER XLIX.

Thk soTe-wonnded Don Qnixote was exceedingly discontested and
melancholy, with his face bound np and maiked, not by the hand of

God, but d; the claws ofacat: guipare the misfortiines incidegnt to
knielit-enanhy ! During sii days he appeared not in pubhc. One
nignt, in the conrse of that time, lying stretched on hia bed, awak*
and nediUting on his misfortnnes, ana the persecution he bad tnf-
fered from Altisidors, he heard a key applied to his chamber-door,
and immeriiately coDclnded that the enamoured damsel herself was
coning, with a determinntion to assanlt his chastitv and OTOTOome by
temptation the fidelity he owed to his htdy Dulcinea del Toboso.
"No," sod he, not doubting the truth of what he fancied, and speak'
ing so loud as to be overheard, " no, not the greatest beauty npoa
eajrth shall prevail npon me to cease adoring her whose image is
engraven ana stamped in the bottom of my soul, and in the inmost
recesses of my heart ! Whether, my dearest lady 1 thou be now tnus-
formed into a garlic-eating wench, or into one of the nymphs of the
goldeo Tagaa, who weave in sdk and gold their ^tteiing webs i or
whether thou art detained by Merlin or Monteiino :— wherever Uxiu
art, mine thou shalt be, and wherever I am, thine I have been and
thine I will remain ! "

As he conclude these words, the door tqtened. and he rose np ia
the bed. wrapped from top to toe in a qnilt of yellow satin, a woukn
cap on nis head, and his hice and his muatadiios bound up : Ins faoe,
on account of its scratches, and his mustachios to keep them Cram
flagging: in which ^ise a more eitraordinary pbaatwn imaginatiMt
never conceived. He riveted his eyes cm the door, and when be
expected to see the captivnlcil and sorrowfnl AUisidora enter, he per-
ceived something that resembled a most reverend doenna gliding in.

THB DUEHNA AUB THE KKIGHT. 48?

liriited csndle, tmd held her riiht over it to keep the glare from her
eyes, which were hidden behind a huze pair of spectacles. She advanced
very slowly and wit L eautious tread, and as Don Quixote gazed at her
form and faoo from his watch-tower, he was coovinced tbnt some
witoh or BOroecBss WHS comein that dispraise to do him sceret misclurfi
and therefore be^n to cross liimsclf with much diligenee.

The apparition kept moving forward, and having reached the middle
of the room, it paused and raised its eyes, aaif remarking how dcvontlj
the knislit was crossing himself ; and if he was alarmed at seeing
sueb a figure, she was no less dismayed at the sight of him— io lan^
so yellow ! enveloped in the quilt^ and disfigured with bandages !
"Jesu! wbatdolsee?" she o;(elaimed—ondm her fright the candle
fell out of her hand. Finding herself in the dark, she endeavoured
to regain the door, but her feet becoming entangled in the skirts of
her garment, she stumbled and fell. Don QuLtote was in the utmost
consternation. "Phantom!" he cried, "or whatever thoa art, sav,
I conjnre thee ; what art Ilion and what reqnirest then of me P If
thou art a soul in torment, tell me, and I will do all I can to help
thee, for I am a Catholic Christian, and love to do good to all man-
kind. It was for that purpose I took npon me the profession of
knight-errantr;, 'riiich engages rae to relieve even the soula in
pnrgalorv."

The Men dnemia hearing herself thus eiorcised, gnessed at Don
Quixote's fear hy her own, and in a low and dokful voice answer^

Bignor Don Qniiote (if peradventure your worship be Don Quiiote),
I am no phantom, nor apparition, nor soul in purgntorj, ss yoor
wotshit) seems to think, but Donna Bodriguei, duenna of honour to
my lady duchess, and am come to ^rour worship with one of those
CBsea of distress which your worship is wont to remedy." " Tell me,
then, Signora Donna Rodr^ues," (juoth Don QnLtote, " if it happens
that your ladyship comes in quality of love-measeiwer ? because, if
so, I would have you understand tliat your labour will be fruitless : —
thanks to the peerless beauty of my mistress, Dulcinea del Toboso.

To he plain, Signora Doana Rodriguez, on condition yi

wnoroua messages, yon may go and hght your candle

hither, and we will discourse on whatever you please to command-

with tliat eiception." " I bring messages, good sir !" answered the
dnenna; "yourworship mistakes Tne raneb: it is not so late in life
ivith me yet as to be compelled to take such base employment : for.
Heaven be praised I my soul is still in my body, and all my teeth in
my head, exeept a few snatched from me by this coH province of
Arragon. But wait, sir, till I have lighted my candle, when I will
tetnm and comrannieate my griefs to your worship, who are the
redresser of all the grievances in the world." Thereupon she quitted
the loom without waiting for a reply from the knight, whom she left
m a state of rrest suspense.

A thonsana thooghte now crowded into hb mind touching thú
sew adventure, and ne was of opinion that he had judged and acted
improperly, to expose himself to the hazard of breakme his iilightea
troth to his lady, and he said to himself, " Who knows oat the devil,
that father lA misehier means to deceive me now with a daenn&
thongh he covld not efieet it with empresses, queens, duchesses, and
ladies of high degree P For I have often heard wise men say, 'the
Aeril finds a better bait in a fiat-nosed than a hawk-nosed woman ;'
A.OOgIC

«3 BOK fgCIXOTX.

aod who con tell bat this solitvde, thb oppottnmty, ttxA thii ailenc^

may awcuten m<r desires, and mate ma nov, at these jeata, fall where
XuercT jret stumHIeil? In such cases, better it were to üj tbuk
hazard a battle. But why do I talk so idl; ? Surely I hare lost my
senses to imagine that an antiqnnted, white-veiled, lank, and spee-
tscled dnmna should awaken a sinde tmchaate thought in the most
abandoned libertine in the world. Is there a duenna upon earth who
canbc«st of wholesome flesh and bloodf la there aduennaupon tba
globe who is not impertinent, affected, and loathsome ? Arauut then,

;e rabble of duennas ! usclebs, disEUstioi, and unprofitable I 'tVisetr
id that good lady act who placed near her sofa a couple of painted
images, accontred like those ancient waiting-women, as if at tfaeir
work : finding the stale and decomni of her rank quite as well sup-
ported by these dumb imitations."

So saying, he jamped off the bed, intending to lock the door so as to
praTent the duenna's return ; but fcefore he could effect his purpose.
Si^ora BodrigucK entered with a lighted taper of white wax ; ana.
coming at once upon Don Quixote, vrappcd ap in his quilt, with
bandages ajid nightcap, she was again alamicd, and, retreating two or
three steps, she said. Sir knight, am I safe F for I take it to be no
sign of modesty that your worship has got out of bed." " I dioitld
rather ask you that question, madam," answered Don Quixote, " and
therefore tell me if I am secure from assault and raTismnent." " Of
whom, or from whom, sir knight, do you demand that security ? "
answered the duenna, "from you, madam, " replied Don Quixote:
"fori am not made of marble, nor are you, I suppose, of brass: nor
i> it noonday, hut midnight, and even later, if I am not mistsJwn;
Mid, moreover, we are in a room retired, and more secret than the
cave in which the bold and tmitorous miteta egjoyed tlie beantáñil
and tender-hearted Dido, fiut, madam, give me your hand; fori
desire no greater security than my own continence and reserve, and
'wliat that most reverend veil inspires," So aaying.be kissed hisrighb
hand, and took hold of hers, which she gave him with the same oeremODv,
Here Cid Hamete makes a earenthesis, and swears by Uahomet ho
would have given the better of his two vests to have seen the kniriit
and matron walking from the chamber-door to the bedside. Ho then
proceeds to inform us that Don Quixote resumed hissituaUcu in bed,
and Donna Bodrignez sat down in a cbair at some Lttle dÍB(«nce from
it, without taking off hcrspectaclcsorscttingdownheroandte. Don
Quixote coverea himself up close, all but hts face ; and after a short

pause, the first who broke silence was the knight. " Now, Í
Donna Eodriguci," said he, " jon may unbosom ell that is in yonr
oppressed and alEioted heart; for you shall be listened to by
me with chaste ears, and assisted with oompassiouate deeds.
"That 1 verily believe," said the duenna; "and no other than
so Christian an answer could be expected from a person of
yonr worship's courtly uid seemly prasence. The ease, then, is
this, noble signor, that thougrb vou see me stttiiw in tliis diair,
and in the midst of the kingdom otArrason, and in toe garb of a poor

Srsecuted duenna, I was Dom in the Astorias oí Oviedo, and of «
nilv allied to some of Lbe beet of that prortnce. But toy bard fata
and the neglect of my parents, who fell, I kjaow not bow, into a atato
of poverty, carried me to Madrid, where from pmdcnoe and the umt
of what might be woiie, they placed me in the terrtoe of a court kdy ;

' A.OOgIC

THE vcbxka's 8AI> KBUnOK. 4S9

tai I can assnie jonr worship that, in matiiif needle-cun and piafa
work, 1 «as neret in m; life outdone. My parents left me in service,
and retumeil to their own conntry, wliere, m a few yeitrs «fler, thef
died, and, 1 doobt oot^eat to heaten ; for the; were very good and
Catholic Christians. Tfaea v/aa I left an orphan and reduced to the
iorrowfnl condition of soch court servants— wretched wages, and
alendcr allowance. About the same time— Heaven knows, without
my rítídk him the least cause for it !— the gentlemen usher of the
family foil in love viUi me. He was somewhat stricken in years, with
a fine beard, a comely peraonj and, what is more, as good a gentleman
as the long himself, for he was a mountaineer. We did not carry on
our amour so secretly but that it came to the notice of my lady^ who
without more ado, and to prevent slander, had ns duly married m the
face of our holy mother the Roman Catholic Church; from whicli
marriaJ^ sprang a daughter, to complete mj good fortune, if fortune
had been mine :— not that I died in childoed, for in due time I was
gafelv delivered ; but alas ! my husband died soon after of fright ;
and had I but time to tell you how it was, your worship, I am sure,
would be all astonishment."

Here Donna Uodriguez shed many tearsof tender recollection. " Far-
don me, good Signer Don Quixote," said sha, "for I cannot command
myself: as often as I call to mind my poor ill-fated spouse, these tea»
Till flow. Heaven be mv aid ! With what st&teliness was he wont
to carry my lady behind Wi on a princely mule as black as jet itself:
for in those times coaches sod side-saddles were not in fashion, as it is
said they now are— ladies rode beliiod their scjuires. I'ardon me, for
I oannot help telling vou st least this one circumstance, because it
proves the good breeding and pQuctiiio of my worth); hnsbuid. It
happened that, on enteriug the street of Santia^, which is very nar-
row, a judge of one of the courts, with two of his officers before him,
appeared, and as soon as my good squire saw him. he turned his mule
ttbout, as if he would follow him. My lady, who was behind him,
said to him in a low voice. ' What are yoa domg, blockhead P am not
I here P' The judge civilly stopped his horse, and said, ' Proceed on
wmx way, sir; for it is rather my duty to attend my lady Donna
Casilda,'— my mistress's neme ; but my husband persisted, cap inhand,
in his intention to follow the jndge. On which my lady, full of ra^
and indignation, pulled out a great pin, or rather, 1 believe, a bodkm,
and stuck it into nis back : whereupon my hosbúid bawled out, and,
writhii^ with the smart, down he came, with his lady to the grosnd.
Two <rf ner footmen ran to assist her, as well as the judge and his
officers, and the gate of Gnadalnjara — I mean the idle people that

stood there — were aJl in an aproar. My mistres» was forced to walk
home oa foot, and my husband repaired to a barber surgeon's, declar-
ing he was quite run through and through. The courtesy and good
iKeeding of my spouse was soon in everybody's mouth, so that the
very bovs in the street gathered about him and teued him with their
gibes when he walked abroad. On this account, and because he was
a little shortsighted, my lady dismissed him from her service ; which
he took so to heart, poor man ! that I verily beheve it broo^t him to
"" sir, Ii ''-■>'' ■. - -J — -.1- -

imoftl

ji excellent workwoman

DOV qmxOTX.

uciD III n.Ei-a^vrUj aivi ouu in/ uougjiicr, nuv glow uii vribii a nuriu m

accomptúhinentá. She sings like aitf lark, dance* like a fairy, oapeis
like aaj wild thing, reads and writ¿ like a schoolmaater, and casia
aocounts as exact as a tniaer. I my nothing of her cleanlinesa, fw
inrely the rnnning brook is not more pnre ; and she is now, if Í
rememba right, just siiteen jeois of a^-, five months and three da;^
one more or less. To make short, sir, the sou of a very rich fnrm^,
vho lives here on my lord duke's land, «as smitten with m^ daughter;
and how he mañanea mattera I cannot tell, but the truth is, they got
together, and, undiT promise of being her husband, he has fooled my
daughter, and now refnsea t« make good his word. The duke is do
atniDger to this business, for I have complained to him a^n and
again, and begged he would be so gracious as to command this youns
man to wed my daughter: bnt he tumsadeaf ear tomy complainta,
and will hardly Toachsafe to listen to me: and the reason is, tlul the
CDzening knave's father is rich, and lends his grace money, and is
boond fir him on raí occasion» : therefore he would not in any way dis-
oblige him. How, good sir, my humble desire is, that your worship
would kindly take upon you to redress this wrong, either by entreaty
or by frarce of arms ; siace all the world says your worship was bora
to redress grievances, to right the injured^ and succour the wretch^
Be pleased, sir, I entreat yon, to tslcc pity on a fatherless danghtov
and let her yontli, her beanty, and all her other good parts, move yoa
to compassion : for, on my conscience, among ail my Isdy's damsels,
there is not one that comes up to the sole of her shoe— no, not she
who is cried np as the liveliest and finest of thum all, whom they csD
Altisidora— she is not to be named with my daughter; for, let me tell
you, dear sir that all is not gold that glitters, and t^at that same littk
Altisidora, after all, has more self-conceit than beauty ; besides, she is
none of the soundest, for her breath is » foul that nobody can stwid
near her for a moment. Nay, indeed, as for that, even my lady
duchess — but, mum, for they say walls have ears."

"What of my lady dueaessP" ouoth Don QuÍxot«; "tell m^
Hsdain Rodriguen, I ctmjnre yon." " Your entreaties," wid the dnenn^
" cannot be resisted ; and 1 must tell yon the truth. Has not your
worship observed tie beauty of my ladj; dnchess ?— that aoftneas, that
clearness of complexion, smooth üd shining like any polished sword;
those cheeks of milk and crimson, with the sou in the one, and the
n the other ; and that stateuness with which she treads, ai

she disdained the verv grround she w^ks on, that one would think ber

n the next, two issnes, one in each le», that cany off ¿I tbe hiad

! verv grround ,

the goddess of healui dispmstne the biessing wherever she goes P
Let me tell yon, sir, she may thank Qod for it, in tite first p'

J ;« »L _*-* t,-.^ ; - : L i__ íL-í 1 jp -n ti.\

humonra in which, the phj^icians say, ber ladvship abounds." "Holy
Virgin ! " quoth Don Qonote, " is it possible that, my lady duoheas
should have such drains ! I should never have credited sacli a thing,
though barefooted friars themselves had sworn it' bat, since Madam
Donna Rodriguez savs it, so it most needs be. let, assuredly, ñom
snch perfection no ul humours can flow, bat rather liquid amber.
Well, 1 am now convinced that such conduits may be of importairae
to health."

Scsroely had Don Ooiiote said this, when the obamberjoor sod-
deal; bant open, whioti so startled Doima RodnBoei that the candis

A.OOgIC

TBZ goteibob's ib&tb discoükse. 4JA

felt out of hei hand, )eannff the room ea dtvk as a voU'a mouth ;
wben iastaiitlr the poor doenna f«lt her throat jniped by two haods,
and BO hajá that ahe had not pover to cry oat, vhile other two banda
ao nnmercifnll; beatepped with a slipper, as it seemed, her scantilf-
nrotected n^ennost parts, that she vas presently in a woeful plisht.
let, DOMthstandiof the oompaasion which Don Quixote feK for her,
he remained qnñtbm bed: being at agn*t loss what to think of the
matter, and donbtfol whether the aataeealMnitymigrht itot fall on him-
aelf. Nor irere hia apprehensions gKnindles.t. for, after havin^well
corned the duenna, wbo durst not cry oot, the silent exeoutionen
then oame to Don Qotiote, and, tomÍDr up the bedclothes, they so
pinched and tweaked him all orer, that he could not forbear layine
^x)itt him with his fists, in his own defence ; till at last, after a seuHe
of elmoet half an hoar, the silent and invisible pbantoms vaniabed.
Donna Rodrignei then adjusted herdisordered (iarmenta, and, bewail-
ing her misfiRtane, hastened out of the chamber without speaking K
word to the knii^ht ; who, vexed with the pinching he had reecired,
remained in deep thought, utterlv- at a losa to eoaoeive who tha mali-
eions endiantcr conid be that bad treated him so rudely. This will be
explained in its proper place ; at present the order of the histoiy
nqoiiea that cnr. attention ahoold be tomed to Sanoho Fanza.

Of vha Ifftl Sandio Peana •• goimg At iwmii •/ Ixi itland.

Never was the gr«at goremor more out of hnmonr than when we
left him, from the proTOcation he bad reodred from the knave of a
peasant, who was one of the steward's instraments for executing the
ank^s pn^eots npon Sancho. NevertMesa, simple, rough, and
round as he was, neheldonttonghly against them all ; and, addreas-
inr himself to those aboot him, amone others the doctor Pedro Recio
(who bad tetomed aftn' the private despateh bad been read), "Inow
pWniy perceive," said he, " that JBdg«s and govemora must or oogfat

and peck at him, rake up the aahes oi Us ((raadfither, awl gi _

very flesh from their bones. Men ci bnainess S- out upon than !—
meddlinr, troublesome fools ! t^e the proper times and seasons foir
foot amurs, and come not when men should eat and ajesp ; IfX
}ndges are made of leah and blood, and mnat give to their natinv
what nature reqoires ; except, indeed, miserable I, who am forbidden
to do so itf mine-— thanks to Signor Pedro Rezio Tirteafaera, here
present who wonid hare me die of bonger, and swear that this kind
of dying is the onlv way to live. Qod grant the some hfe to him,
and aU those of his tribe!— I mean qnadts and impostora ; for good
physiciBna deserve palms and huwela." All who knew Sanohw
, , . .A.OOgIC

IBH Doa qoixoTB.

Panza «ne in admirolaoD at bia improved oratory, n-hich thcf
could not ftccouttt for, unless it be tliat offices sud weighty eipplo;.
nents quicken and poiiab some men's minds, an tbey perplex Mid
stupifv others.

At length the boweUof Doctor Pedro Reiio deTirteafnerareientwi,
«nd he promÍBed the ^temM he should sup that night, altbonich it
were in direct opposition to all the B(>horisms of H¡i)pocrates. Wilh
this promise his excellency was aatisüed, and looked forward wilh
(Treat impatience to tlie lionr of supper ; and though time, as bo
thought, stood stock-still, yet the wisned-for moment came at last,
when messes of cow -beef, hashed with onions, end boiled calves' feet
somewhat of the stalest, were set before him- Nevertheless, he Uta
about him with more relish than if they had given him Milan godwits,
Koman pheasants, veal of Scrento, partridges of Moron, or geese of
Laviyos ; and, in the midst of supper, turning to the doctor, " Look
JOH, master doctor," said he, "never trouble yourself again to provide
me your delieacic», or your tit-bits ; for they will only unhinge my
&tom<u;b, which is accustomed to goats' -flesh, cov-beei. and bacon,
with turnips and onions ; and if you plv me with court kickshaws, it

luiu cut together hi peace Uid good friendship: for when Ood
sends daylight, it is morning to all. 1 will govern this island without
ciilier waivins riaht or pocüetíng bribe. So let evny one keep agood
look-out, and eaeli mind his own business ; for 1 would have them to
know the devil is in the wind, and if they put me upm it, they shall
see woaders- Ay, ay ; make yoorselvus hooey, and the waspe will
devonr jou-"

" Indeed, my lord govwnor," oDoth the sewer, " your kodship ü
rouoh in the right m all yon have said and I dan anease, in
the name of all the inhabitants of this ieiaBd, that they wiU sore
your worship with all punctuality, love, and good-wili; for your
gentle «ay tí governing, from the very Qrst, lenves us no room to do,
or think, anythiuz to ibe disadvantage of your worship." " I believe
as mucli." replied Sancho, "and they would be litile bettor than foola
if they did, or thought, otherwise ; thcrelbre 1 tcU yon once again, it
ia my pleature that you look well to rae and my Dapple in the article
of food; for that is toe main point : and when the hour oomes, we will
go the round, as my intention is to eieat this island of all manner of
nlth and ruhbisli ; especially vorabonda, idlers, and abarpers : for 1
voukl have tou know, friends, that your idle and laiy people in a
commraweatth ace like drorkes in a beehive, whidi devour the hoa^
that the labouring bees gather. My design is to pratoct the peasants,
maintain the iinntry in their privUeges, reward viriiio, and above aH,
to have a S|jecial regard to rntigbn, and the revereaoe doe to ,boiy
men. What thiuk you of this, n^ good friends F I>o I say som».

«aunt vegelAblaB,

oompnad of b»f. mutton, pork, with aomctinm poolCiy o
ublaB, and a variaty ol other lagrodieiiM.

TBB goveks'ok's kuukd op ikspeciioh. iOS

thii^, or do I crsck my brain* to no purpose?" "My lord
governor speaks so well," replied the steward, thftt I am all sdmi-
ratioB to ¿ear one devoid ot learninir, like your worsliip, utter so
msDj notable things, so iai beyond the expectation of your sab-
jects, or those wlio appointed you. But every dk>* produces
something new iu the world; jests turn into earnest, and toe biters
MT bit."

The governor having supped by license of Si^nor Doctor Rerio,
Ihey prepared for going the round, and he set out with the secrptary,
the steward, the sewer, and the historio^niLpher, who had the charge
of recording hts actions, together with seircants and notari<>s: slto-
gether forming a little bsttaiion. Sancho, with bis rod of office,
marobed in the midst of them, niakiiw a goodly show. After tra.
versing a few streets, they heard the clashing of swords, vid,
hasteninjt to the place, they found two men iigiiting. On seeing
the oSicers coming they drainted, and one of them said, "Help in the
name of Heaven and the king! Are people to be attacked here,
and robbed in the open streets ? " Hold, honest man," qootli
Sancho, " and tail me «hat is the occasion of this fray ; for I am úo
governor."

His antagonist, interposing, said, " My lord governor, I will
briefly relate the n»atter ;— Vnur iiononr must know that this gent}».
man is jost come from the (mming-bouie over the way, where ne has
been winning above a thousand reals, and Heaven knows how, except
that I, happening to be present, was induced, even asainit my con*
science, to gire judgment in his favour in many a doubtfal point;
and when I expected he would have given me somethii^, though it
vrere but the unull matter of a crown, by way of present, as it is usoal
with gentlemen of character like myself, who stand by, ready to Iradt
nnreaoonable demands, and to prevent quarrels, up he got, with his
pockets fíUcd, and marclied ont of the house. Surprised and vexed
at sucli conduct, I followed him, civilly reminded him that he could
not refuse me the small sum of eight reals, as he knew me to be A
man of bononr, without either office or pension ; my parents having
brought me up to nothing : yet this knave, who is as great a tliief Ut
Csmis, and as arrant a sharper as Andindilla, wonid give me but fonr
reals ! Tliink, my lord governor, what a shameless and unconscion-
able feUow he is ! But, as 1 live, had it not been for your worship
coming, I would have made him disgorge his winnings, and tanght
him how to balaaoe aeconnts."

" What say yon to this, friend f " quoth Sancho to the otber.
He BOfcnowledged that what his adversary had said was true : "be
tneant to give Dim no more than four reds, for he was coutinnallT
giving him something: and tbeywho expect snacks shonld bemodes^
and tAke oheerfnlly whatever a given tlieni, and not hai^le with the
winners; unless tkey know them to be sharpers, ana their g«ins
nnfairly gotten ; and that he was no sncli person, was evident from
his Teaistnw an nnnasonable demand : for cheats are always at the
mer^ of their aecompbccs." " That is true," guoth the steward :
" be jpleflsed, my lord governor, to ley what shall be done with these
men."

"What shall be done," Teplicd Sancho, "is this; yon, master

winner, whether by fair plav or foul^ instantly give yonr hackster here

K hnndred reals, and pay down thirty more for the poor prisoners ;

A.OOgIC

4ñi sos QVIXOTt.

and yon sir, vho have Beither oGBoe nor pauira,

ment. take the hundred reals, and, some úme to-u ... .

r set toot (n it agsia these ten year», u
. _._. , . . nishment in the neit life ; fo" ■' '
B, I will moke you swing on a. gibbet-^t least the

you. would finish yonr banishment in the neit life ; for if 1 find yo«

here, I will make you swing on a gibbet — at least the haiwman shall

!p]j, or he shall repent it." The dec

waa immediately' executed: the one disbursed, the other recetTed;
the one quitted the island, the otber went home : and the gorenior
said, " Either my power is miBll, or 1 will demiuisb ibma gaaiing-
bouaea ; for I strongly suspect that much haim oodms of them."
" The house here before us," «oíd one of tlia officers, " I faar your
honour cannot put down ; being- kept by a peraon of quality, whoM
loases ftec exceed his sains. Your «orsbip may exert yoiu' authority
Bffainst pet'y gnminx-tionees, vhich do mote Barm and shelter ntoie
abuses than those oí the sent)?, where notorious cheats daiie not show
their &oes ; and since the vice of play is become so oomiDon, it is
beñer that it should be pennitted in the bouiea of the frreat than in
those of low condition, where night after night unfortunate gulls am
taken in, and stripped of their very skins." " Well, master uatary,"
quoth Sancho, " 1 know Uiere is much to be said on the suljject."

Just at that moment a setjcant came up to him holding &it a yuuag
man : " My lord governor," said he, " this youUi was oominr towuds
us, but as soon as he peroeived us to be ofiieers of jnstioo, he turned
about and not off like a deer— -a sure bíi^ti he is after tone miachieC
I pursued him ; and had he not stumbled and fallen, 1 should nenr
have overtaken him." " Why did you fly &cai the oSoer, yoms
manf" qwAb Sancho. "My lord," said the youth, "itwu toan^
the many questions that officers of JDstioe usnally aslc" " What is
vour tilde?" asked Sancho. "A weaver," aMwered the youth.

And what do you weave P" mioth Sanebo. "iron heads forspenn,
an it please your worship." So, then," returned Sancho, " you are
pleased to be joooee witn me, and set up for a wit 1 'tis might* weiL
And prsT may I ask whither you «ere Boing f " "To take the air,
sir," repfied the lad. " And pruy where do people tike the atr in this
bnnd P said Sancho. " Whers it blows," aBswered the youth.
"Q<»od,"quoth SsniAoj "youaBewertothe;nrpo3e;-~anotablei>outh,
truly ! but hari vou, sir ; I am the air ^ríllch you seek, and wiU blow
in your poop, and drive you into safecostody. Here, seonre him, aad
carry hi in straight to prison. Ivrill make him sleep there to-nwht,
without air." " Not so, by my faith," said the youth ; " yourworwiq)
shall as soon make the king, as make n>e sleep iiiere." "I not
make you sleep in iwon I " cried 9«iicbo — " have I not power to
confine or release you as I please?" "IVhatevcr yoior wonhip's
power may be, you shall not force me to sleep in priaou."

" We shall see that," replied Sancho — " away with him imm»
distely, and let him be convmced to his ooat ; and should the gaoler
be found l« practise in his favour, and allow him to sleep out of lus
enstody, I will sconce him ia the penalty of two thousand duoata."
" All tlus is very pleasant," aiiswercd the youth ; " but uo man Üráw
shall make me sleep to-night in prison : — m that I am fixed." " Tefl
me, devil incunatc," quoth Sancho, "ha5t thou some angel at thy
hock, to come and break the fettera with which I mean to tether
thee?" "Good, my lord," said the youngster, with a smile, "letaa
not trifle, but ocHne to the pgiut. yaurwenhip,Iowo,iiug'ola^>>ieiit«

TTTBTHZS ACGOmT Of THB OWUT OOTESDOB. 4M

dssget», kod loed me with ohaiiu and fetters, and laj what commanda
yod ukoáe upon the gwler; fet if I ciiooee not to sleep, can jour
wor^p, with all youi: power, farce me to sleep ?" " No, certainly,"
Hud tlie secretary, "and tlie young man haa made out his meamng."
" Well, then," qnolh Sancho, " if yoa keep awake, it ia from yaat own
lilciuf.aDd not to cross mywul?" " Cartainly not, mv lord, said the
youtL "Hicn go, get thee home and sleep," quoth Sancho, "and
Ueaven send tkee a good night'e rest, for I will not be thy hindrance.
But have 3 oare another time bow you sport with justice; fwyoD may
chance to mtet with some man in office who will not reliab your jokes,
but crock your noddle in return." 'I'be youth went his wfty, and the
governor continued bis round.

Socxn after two serjeuits came up. saying, " We have brought yon,
my lord governor, one in disguise who seeuis to be a man, but is, in
lact, a wtnoan, and no t^l; one either." Two or three lanterns
yere immediately held op to her tace, by the light of which tixej
indeed perceived it (o be tbat of a female seemingly about sixteen

Eears of age ; she was beautiful as at bcusand pearls, with he*
air inoloaed under a net of gold and green silk. They viewed hot
from head to fooL utd observed that ber stotáinn were flesb-ooloured,
bee garters of white taSeta, with tassels of gold and seed pearl; hw
Iveechcs were of green and gold tissuej her cloak of the same, under
which she wore a very fine waistcoat of white and gold stu^ and her
shoes were white like tJiese worn by men. She had no sword, but a
very i^ch dagitec; and on ber fingen were many valuable rings. All
Tere struck witli admiration of Ibe maiden, but nohodv knew ber, not
«<en the inhabitants of the town. Indeed, those who were in the
secret of these jests were as much interested as the rest, for this
oircurosUnce was not of their contriving, and being, therefore, unes.
pected, their surprise and curiosity were more strn^ly excited.

The governor admired the ^'oung lady's beauty, uid asked her who
slie woB^ whitber she was eomj;, and what had induced her to dress
beiseif m tbat habit. With downcast eyes, she modestly answered,
"I hope, sir, jou will eiouse my a&swenng so publicly what I wish
somocbto bekept secret ;— of one thing be assured, gentlemen, I am
no thief, Doi a oniuinal, bnt an unbai^y maiden, who, from a jcaloua
and rigorous confinement, has been temiited to transgress the rules of
decorum." The steward, on hearing this, said, " Be pleased, my lord
goremoT, to order your attendaut* to retire, that tbis lady may speak
more freely."

The govern

fhe steward, the si , ^ , ,r~ ~~ — —

proceeded tbQs : " I am the daughter, geutlemen, of Pedro Peru
Uazorca, who farms the wool <^ tbis town, and went, comes to my
bther'sloase."

"This will not pass, madam," said the steward ; "fori know Pedro
Perez very welL and I am sore he has neither sons nor dangbters ;
besidea, Mtor tdling ns be is your father, you imsiediBtely si^ that he
comes often to your father's bouse." "1 took notice irf that," quoth
Sancho. "Indeed, gentlemen," said sh^ "I am in such confusion
that I know not what I say ; but the truth is, I am daughter to Diego
de la Uan^ whom you aU must know." "Tbat may be tru^'

406 Don QUixoTX

he has heeii a widower, nobody in this town cui saj fhej hare seen
the face of his daughter, for lie keeps her so confined that he hardly
Buffers the snn to look upon her; the common report, too, is, that ^e
is entre mely handsome.

" What you saj ia true, sir," aaid the damsel, " and whether fame
lies or not, as to my beauty, yon, genllemen, who have seen me, maj
judge." She then b^an to weep most bitteriy; upon which tt¿
secretary whispered the sewer, " SomethiDg of impurtAnce, sorely,
must have caused a person of so much consequence as thia young
lady to leave ber own house in such a dress, ana at this unseasonable
hour." "No doubt of that," replied the sewer ; " besides, this lusm-
aou is oonRrmed by her tears." ííonclio comforted her aa veil as hs
iould. and desired her to tell the whole matter without fear, for they
would be her friends, and serve her in the beet manner they were able.

"The truth is, pentlemen," replied she, "that since my nmther
died, which is now ten years ago, my father has kept me otoseoonfined.
We nave a chapel in the house, where we hear mass ; and in all th»t
time I have seen nothing hut the sun in the heavens by day, and üm
moon and stars byaight; nor do I know what streets, squares, or
churches are ; nor even men, excepting my father and brother, and
Pedro PercK the wool-farmer, whose constant visits to our bouse led
me to say he was my father, to conceal the truth. This close ow-
fincroent, and being forbidden to set my foot out of doors, thon^ it
were but to church, iias for many days and months past disquieted me
Tery much, and gave me a constant longing to see the world, or at
least tlie town where I was bom ; and I persuaded mvself that this
desire was neither unlawful nor unbecommg. When I heard talk of
buU-Gghts, running at the ring, and theatrical shows, I asked my
brother, who is a year younger than myself, to tell me what those
things were, and several others that I have never tKCn. He described
them all as well as he could, but it only inflamed my curiovty to see
them myself. In a word, to shorten the story of my rain, I prayed
and entreated my brother— Ü that 1 bad never so pnqed □« en-
treated !"— and hereaflood of tears interrupted her narrative. "PiM,
madam," said the steward, "be comforted, and proceed; for your words
and tears keep us all in anxious suspense." " I have bnt few inoie
words," answered the damsel, "though many tears to shed: tor
misplaced desires like mine can be atoned for no otiber way."

The beauty of the damsel had made an imprsssiooon the soul of
the sewer, and again he held up his lantern to have another view of
her, when he verily thought her tears were orient peark and dew-
drops of the morning, and ne heartily wished hw misfortune iniffat not
be so great as her tears and signs seemed to iiulioate. Hut the
Kovemor v>as out of all patience at the length of her story, aad there-
fore bid her make an end and keep tb^n do looger, as ]t grew late,
and they had much ground yet to pass over. As well as the frequent
interruption of sobs and sighs would let her, she continued, uying,
"Mv misfortune and misery is no other than this, that Ideaiieaaiy
brotner to let me put on Ills clothes, and take me out straie night
when my father was asleep, to see the town, yielding to my fregnent
entreaties, he at length gave me this habit, and dressed himself in &
suit of rnine, which fits him exactly, and he looks like a beautiful girl
— for he has yet no beard ; and thia night, about an hour ago, we
contrived i» get out of the house, and with no otbu guide tluui a fooU

A.OOgIC

THB GOTCKMOK S POLITENESS. t07

bof and our own nnral; faod^ we bave walked throngb tbe whole
town ; and as we wero retnrninK home, we saw a great companj of
people before ns, whicb mj brother said was the roun^ and that «e
must run, or rather &j, for if we should be discoTerea it would be
worse for ns. Upoa which he set oEF at full speed, leaving mc to
follow him ; but I had oot got mauy paces before I stumbled and fell,
and that instant a man seized me uid brought me hither, whore my
indiscreet kinarinfr has covered me with shame." "Has nothing,
then," quoth Sanono, " befallen yuu but this P — jou roeationed at first
something of jealonsf, 1 think, which had brot^ht yon from home."
"Nothing," said she, "has befallen me bnt what I have said^ nor has
anything brought me out but a desire to sec the world, which went
no farther than seeing the streets of this town."

The truth of tbe damsel" s story was now confirmed by the arrival
of two other Serjeants, who had overtaken and seized the brother as
he fled from the sist«r. The female dress of the ^ontb was only a rieb
petticoat and a blue damask mantle bordered with gold ; on his head
be had no other omament or cover than his own hair, which appeared
like so man^ waves of gold. The governor, the steward, aud the
sewer, exammed him aiwit, and, out of the beariog of his sister, asked
him why he had disguised himself in that maimer. With no less
bashfulncss and distress, he repeated the same stot? they had heard
from his sister, to the great satiafaotion of the enamoured sewer.
"Betdb, yoang gentlefolKs," said the governor, " this seems only»
jneoe of cnildisn lolly, and all these sobs tuid teats might well have been
qnred in giving an accoont of your frolic. Hod you bnt told as your
names, and said yon had got out of your father's house only to satis^
your curiosity, there would have been an end oí the story." "That is
true," answered the damsel ; " but my confusion wis so groat, that I
knew not what I said, or how to behave myself." " W31, madam,"
said Sancho, "there is no harm done ; we «ill see yon safe to yonr
Gather's honso, who, perhaps, has not missed yon ; and henceforward
be not so ohilmsh nor so eager to get abroad ; for the modest maiden
and the broken leg should keep at home;' 'the woman aod the hen
ore lost by gadding;' and 'she who wishes to see, wishes no less to
be seen '—I say no more."

The yoDn; man thanked the goremor fix tbe fikTonr be intended
them, in seeing them safe home, whither they all nmt ; ud, having
teai^ed the hous^ the yontb threw a pebble up at ajgrsted window,
which immediately brought down one of the domestios, who opened
Ae door, and tímf went in, leavinK eveir one m admiration or their
beauty and graoefnl demeanonr, ana mnch entertained by their desire
of seeing the world by night. Tbe sewer finding that his heart was
pierced throngh and tnrongh, seccetly resolved to demand the yoong
lady in marriage of her father the next dar, and he Battered hunsen
th^ bemg a aerraot of the dnke, he should not be lefosed. Sancb^
too, bod some thoughts of matching the yoong man with his danghter
Sanchioa, and detannined to bring it abont the first opportunity ;
feeling assnred that no man's son wonM think himself too good for a
froveinor's danghter. Thos ended the night's round of the great
Sancho : two days after ^so ended bis government, which pat an end
to all his great designs and eipeetatioosi as shall hereafter M shown.

CHAPTER U.

irítfS dfclam aha vtre the ndUailm md txtculionert AM uki'pptd rt*
(bacina, and pinehtd and tcratiAfd Don Qaiziitt ; and alto the aiereiir/
the page i^o mrriid Saneho't litter lo kit K'/e, Ttrtn Paiua.

CiD HiMETR, the most laborions and carrfulinveitisaUirinlolIie
minutest particles of this true bistory, mjs ibat when Donna Kodii-

5uez went out of lier cliamber to go to that of Dot) Quiiote, anolher
uenoa, who had slept with }ier, obeened licr.and lu all dosBiis» are
Bddioled toliBteniuR, pryinj into, and amelfingont eTtrjtliing', bIw
followed her, tad with so light a foot that the good llodnguei did
not hew it; and no Eooncr liad sho entered Don (Juaot«'s ctaiuber,
than the othfr, that she might not be do-ficieiit in the laudable prac-
tice of tale-bearing, iu wliirh duennas usually exeel, hastened t«
Rcqoeint the duchess that Donna liodriguei was then artuaUy ia
Don Quiwte's ciiamber. The duchosa iiu mediately toW the dukei,
and hüvimí gained hm jerraisr.ion to to with Altisidora to aalisf j her
curiosity respecting this nigbt-visit of her duenna, they silently posted
themselves at the door of the knight'a apartment, w^ete thej- stood
listening to all thotwoa saidwitlun; but «hen the duche» heard
her aeorct imperfectiouB esposed, neither she nor Altisidom could
bear it, scd so, brimful of rags and eager for revenge, they bounced
into the rhamoer, and seiain^ the offemler», ¡nflictea the whipping-
and pineiiing before mentioned, and in the manner already related —
for nothing aw^iens the wrath of women and inflamee them with k
desire of vengeance more efl'eetually than aJfronta le¥eUed at tbeir
beauty, or otlier objects of their vanity.

The duke waa much diverted with his lady's account of this night-
adventure: and the duchess being stiU merrily disposed, now
desputched a messenger CKtraordineiy to Teresa Panu with her
husband's letter (for Sancho, having his head so full of the great
conoems of his govcnunent, had ouite forgotlen it), and witli
another from heraelf, to which she added as a present a large string
of rich cortd heada.

Now the history tcUa us that the messenger employed on tifia
occasion was a shrewd fellow, and the same pani who pers<»nated
Dulcinea in the wood, and, hixng desirous to please bia lord and
lady, he set off with much glee to Sancho's village. Havinf^ arrived
near it, he inquired of some worsen whom be saw waslmig in a
brook if there lived not in that town one Teresa Panu^ wife «f
one Sancho Pania, squire to a knight called Don Quuote de
la Mancha. " That Teresa Pania is my mother," said a young
lass who was washing among the rest, " aad that Sancho my own
father, and that knight our master." "Are they so?" qnotli tha

fage : " come, then, my good girl, and lead me to your mother ; for
have a letter and a token for her from tliat same father of yours."
" That 1 will, with all my heart, sir," answered the arirl (who seemed
to be about fourteen years of age), and, leaving toe linen she was

A.OOgIC

THE DTJCTIISa Wfillia TO TEBESi P

liorse, bare ie;:;jed, and her hair dishevelled.

" Come along, sir, an 't please you," quoth she, " for our house
etauds hard bj, and you nill £nd mf mother in trouble enoa^gh for
being so long without tidings o£ mj; father." " Well," satd the
DBse, " I now briap: her news that will cheer her heart, I warrant
Iier." 8a on he went, with bis Ruide running, sldppinj;, and capering
befoi'e him, tJI they reached the village, and, DcforcElie got up to the '
house, slio culled out aloud, " Mother, mother, conic out ! here's a
geutlerran who brings letters and other things from m; good father."

At these words out came her mother Teresa I'aiiza with a distaff
in her hand— for she was apinnin? flai. She was clad b a niaset ijct-
ticoat, so short tlist it looked as if it l)ad \ifi:a docked at the placket,
with a jacket of the same, and the sleeves of her unilcr garment hang-
ing about il. She appeared to be about forty years of age, and was
airona, hale, sinewy, and hard as a haiel-nut.

" What is the matter, girl?" quoth she, seeing her daughter with
the p^re ; " what gentJenian is that f" " It is an bumble aen-ant of
my Ladf Donna Teresa I'ania," answered the page ; and, llirowing
himsi^lf irom his hoiBc, with great resnect ho went and kneeled before
tlie Lady Teresa, sayinii, " Be pleaseo, Signora Uonna Teresa, to five
me your lady<ibip's baud lo kis.s, as the lawful wife of Signor Don
Sancho Panal, sole governor of the island of liaralaria." "Alack-
a-day, good sir, how you talk!" she replied: "1 au no court-dauK;
but a poor countrywoman, daughter of a plougliman, and wife io-
deed of a squire-errant, but no governor." " Your ladyship,"
answered the page. " is the most worthy wife of a thrice-worthr
governor, and to conUroi the truth of what I say. be please^
maduo, to receive what I here bring you." Ue iliea drew the
letter irom his pocket, and a string of corals^ each bead set ¡a gold,
and, putting it about her neek, he said, " This letter in from my luro

Evemor, and another that I have here, and those corals are from my
ly duchess, who sends me to yonr ladysliip."

Teresa and her daughf ei were all astouishment. " May Idle," said
the girl, " if our master Don Quixote he not at the bottom of fliís —
as sure as day he has KJven my father the government or earldom he
has so often promised him.'* It is even so," answered the page;
" and for Signor Don Quixote's sake, my Lord Sancbo is now governor
of the island of BaratariiL as the letter will inform yoa." " Pray,

ioang gentleman," quoth Tereaa, "be pleased to read it : forthongh
can spin, I cannot read a jot." ">or I neither, i' faith," cried
Sauohica; " but stay a little, and I will fetcli one who can, either
the bachelor Samson Carrasco or the priest himself, who will come
with all their hearts lo hear news of my father," " You need not
take tliat trouble," said tbe page; "for I can read, though I
Giumot spin, and will read it io you. Which ho accordingly did :
but, as its contenta have already been given, it is not here
repeated. Ue then produced the letter from the duchess, and read
aa foUovs :

" Friend Teresa, —
" Findini your husband Sancho worthy of my esteem for hia
hooesty and good uaderstandini, I prevailed upon the duk^ mj
3 K 3

600 I>Oti qniiOTE.

spouse, to mnke bim goYcrnor of oae of the man; uluds in hit
possession. I am iofonncd he governs like an¡r hawk; at which I
and my lord duke are mighlijy pliaBed, and give many thanks to
Heaven ttiat I have not been (¡eceived in my choiee, for Madam
Teresa may be assured that it is no easy matter to find a good

fveraor^aod Gud make me aa good as Sancho governs well
have sent you, my dear friend, a string of corals set in gold
— I wish they were oriental pearls ; but, whoever gives thee a bone has
no mind to see thee dead: ttie time trill come it hen ne shall be better
acquainted, and converse witli each other, and then lleavcD knows
-what may happen. Commend me to yoar dauf;hter Sunchica, and
tell her from me to get herself ready; for I mean to have her highly
married when she least espeeta it. I am told the acorns near yoiir
town are very large — pray send me some two dozen of tliem ; for 1 shaU
value them the more aa coming from your hand. Write to me imnie-
difttcly, to inform me of your health and welfare ; and. if you want
anythnig, you need but open your tnoutb, and it shall be measured.
So God Iceep you.

" Tour loving Friend.
" From this place. " The Duchebs."

" Ah!" quoth Teresa, at hearing the letter, "how good, how plain,

how humble a kdy! let me be buried with suchUdiesas thiBsaTl, aw
not with such proud madams as this town affords, who think, becsaist
they are gentfefolka, the wind mast not blow upon them; aodgp
flaunting to church as if they were queens ! they seem t« tJiink it
a disgrace to look upon a peasant woman ; and yet yon see how
this good lady, though she he a duchess, ealls me friend, andtteiM
me as if I were her equal !^and equal may 1 see her to the highest
stfeple in La Mancha! As to the acorns, sir( I will send her lady-
ship a peck of them, and such as, for their size, people shall cwne
from far and near to see and admire. But for the present, Sanciiic*^
let us miike much of tills gentleman. I>o thou take care of liis hone,
child, and bring some new-laid eggs out of the stable, and slice bobm
rashers of bacon^ and let us entertain him iike any prince; for lits
good news and his own good looks deserve no less, ^leanwhile I will
Step and cwry my neighbows the iojful tidings, especiidlT our good
priest and Master Nicholas the baroer, wboare and have always been
such friends t« your father." "Yes, I will," answered Sanchim;
" but hark you. mother, half that atnng of corals comes to me ; for
sure the great Indy knows better than to send them all to you." " It
is all for thee, daughter," answered Teresa, " hot let me wear it a few
days about my neck, for truly, metbinks it cheers my very heart."
" Ion will be no less clieered," quoth the page, " whpn you see
the bundle I have in this portmanteau : it is a habit uf miperfine
cloth, which the governor wore onlv one dar at a hunting-matcQ, and
he ha» sent it all to Signora Sancnica." May he live a thoosand
years 1 " answered Sanenica ; " and the bearer neither more or leas —
aye. and two thousand, if need be '."

Teresa now went out of the house with tjie letters, and the beads
about her neck, and playing, as she went along, with her finger
upon the letters, as if they nad been a timbrel, when, accidentally

Ttn pbiest's astokisuxent. GOl

no poor relalions now: — we have eot a government! Ay, ay, let
tlie proudest she amonint tliem all mcdate witli mc ; I will make
her know her distance." " What is the matter, Teresa Ponía f
What madness is tliis?" qnotli the priest ; " and what papers have
TOORotthpre?" "Noothermadness, quothslie, "but that these are
letters from durhesses and RDvemors. and these about mj neck arc true
eoral: and the Ave-marias and the Pater-nosters are of beaten sold,
«nd I am a ¡tovernor's ladj— that's all." " HeaTCQ be our a¡d!
thev exclaimed ; " we tnow not what you mean, Teresn." " Here,"
said she, firing them the letters, "taVe these, rejiii, and believe jour
own eyes." 'iTie priest having read them so that Samson Carrasco
heard the contents, they both stared at each other in astonishmeat.
The bachelor asked who had brouglit those letters. Teresa said if
they would come home with her they should see the messenser.who was
«youth like aoy^ldcn pine-tree; andthatbehadbiDu^thcranother

Esent worth twice as mach. Thepriesttook the strinf- of corals fram
neck, and examined them a^ain and ai^ain ; and being sati»lied
that they were ¡jcnuine, his wonder increased, and he snid, " By the
habit 1 wear, I know not what to say nor what to think of these letters
and these presents ! On the one nand I see and feci the fineness of
these corals, and on Ihe other I read that a duchess sends to desire a
A»cn or two of acorns!" "Make these things tally, it you can,"
oDoth Carrasco ; " let «a go and see the messenger, who may explain
toe difficulties which puzzle ui,"

They then returned with Teresa, and fonnd the page sifting a
little Kirley for his horse, and Sanchica cutting a rasher to fry with
eg«s for the page's dinner, whose appearance and bebavionr they
both liked ; and, after the nsunl compliments, Samson requested him
to give them some intelUsence of Dos QdítoU and Sancho Panza ; for
thoíigh they hod read a letter from Sancho to his wifo. and another
from a dnchess, still they were confounded, and could not divine
.what Sancho's p^vcmment could mean, and especially of an island;
well knowinK that tu, or most, of those in the Mediterwnean be-
Jraiged to bis majesty. "Gentlemen" answered the page, "that
Sisitor Sancho Panza u a governor, b beyond all doubt; but whether
it ^ SQ island or not that he governs, I cannot say ; I only know
Uiat it is ft place oontaining anove a thmisand inhanitauts. And
S3 to [ny lady duchess sendiiig t« beg a few acorns, if you Itnew,
bow humble and affable she is, it would give no surprise; she wilL
even send to borrow a comb of one of her neighbours. The ladiea
*f Arrian, gentlemen, I would have jou to know. tlio«o:h as hizh
in Tank, are not so proud and ceremomous as the ladies of Castile;
- — tíiey are much more condescending."

Banchica now came in with her Jap full of eggs. " Pray, sir," said
■he to the pase, " does my father, now he is a govetTior, wear tnink-
hosel'"" "f never observed," answered the pagti "but doubtless
he does." "God's my life!" replied Sanchica, "what a sight tosca
my father m long breeches ! Is it not strange that, ever since I was
boroj 1 liave longed to see my father with breeches of that fashion,
iMea to hisgirdlef" " I warrant you will have that pleasure if you
live," answered the page ; " before Heaven, if his goiemment lasts

502 BON QriiOTE.

bnt two tuontlis, )ie Is litply to travel with a eapc to his cag."* The
priest and Ihc baclielor clenrlv saw that the page sjyike jeslinjrly ; but
the finraesa of the corals, ana also the honting-snit srnt hy Sancho,
■whieh Teresa bmJ already shown them, afrain pcrplcsed tliem eireeH-
iog]y. Tliey could not forbear smilinst at Sanchica's lonpiii^, and sliU
more irhen they heard Teresa say, " Master priest, do look about, and
see if anybody be goin^ to Madrid or Toledo, who may bny me a
farthinjale, right and fight, and fashionable, ana one of toe beat that
is to be had ; for, tmly, I am resolved not to shame my hosband's
government ; and, if they vex m^ I will ect to that same court my-
self, ftnd ride in my coach as wcli as the best of them there : for sna
■who haa a povemor for her husband may verr well have a coach, and
afford it too, i' faith ! " " Aye, marry," qnotn Sanchioa, " and wonld
to Heaven it were to-day, rather than to-morrow, though foils that
saw me conehedwith my lady mother, should say, 'Do but sec tbe
bumpkin there, daughter of such an one, stuffed with garlic!— how
she ftamita it about, and lolls in her coach like any she-pope ! ' But
let them jeer, ao tlicy trudce in the dirt, and I ride in my coach, with
my feet above the ground. A bad year and a worse mouth to all
the murmurcrs in the world ! While I go warm, let 'em laugh that
like it. Say I well, motherP" "Ay, mighty well, dauglitcr," an-
swered Terpsa ; " and, indeed, my good man Sancho foretold mc all
this, and Slill irrenter luck ; ana, thou shalt see, daughter, it will
never stop till it has made me a countess; for luck only wants n
beginning: and, aal have often heard your father say — who, as lie is
yours, so ¡she the father of proverbs— Mí hen they give you a heifer,
make basic with the halter: when thor offer Ihee a governorship, by
hold of it ; when an earldom is put before thee, lay your claws on
it ; and when they wliistic to thee with a good gilt, snap at it ¡ if not,
sleep on, and give no answer to the good luck that raps at yonr
door.'" " Ay, indeed." quoth Sanchica, "what care I, though thgr
be spitefnl, and say, when they see me step it stalely, and bridle i^
' Look, loolt there at tbe dog in a doublet ! the higher it mounts, tbe
more it shows.' "

" Surely," said the priest "tbe whole race of Pamas were bom
with their bellies stuffed with proverba, for I never knew one of them
that did not throw them out at ever)' turn." "I believe so too,"
quoth the page; "even his honour, the governor Sancho, utters them
very thick ; and, though often not mnch to the purpose, they are
mightily relished, and my litdy duchesa and tbe duie commend them
hidily." " You persist then in affirming, sir," quoth the bachelor,
"tnai Sancho is really a governor, and that these presents and letters
are in truth seni. by a duchess P Ai for os, though wo touch the pre-
aenb and have read the letters, we have no faith, and arc inelined to
think it one of the adventures of our eountrymsn Don Quixote, and
take it all for enchantment ¡—indeed, friend, I would fain touch yon,
to be certain vou are a messenger of üesh and bbod, and not aa
illosion." "All I know of myself, gentlemen," answered the pago,
" is, that I am really a messei^er and tliat Swiwr Sancho Panza is
actually a govemoT ; and that my lord duke ana his duchess can givcv

• Itw

}( qmility to 1
ha htiad, in o

THE FBIEST EXTEBTAIKB THE HESSENOEB. 503

and hare (iiren, bim thit gorerament ; in wliich I have heard that lie
behaves liiiiiself in a notable manner. Now, whether there be en-
cliantment in this or not, 1 leave to you to d^tennine ; for, by the fife
of my parents,* who are liviQir, and whom 1 dearly love, 1 know
nolhing more of the matter." It raav be so." replied tlio baehelor,
but Dabitat Atigtttliaat" "Douht who will," auawcred the page,
"the truth is what I tell jon, and truth will alwavs rise uppermost,
as the oil does above water; hut if you will not believe me, Operibui
crtdiie, e( «on t^rbti :—come one of you ecutlemcn along with me,
and be satisfied with your eyes of what your ears will not convince
you."_ "Thatjannt is forme," quoth Sanchiea: "take me bcliind
jou, sir. upon your nag, for I have a huge mind to see hia worship my
fetiier. The daughters of governors," said the pose, "must not
travel unattended, but in coaches and litters, and with a handsome
train of servants." "Bjthe masa," quoth Sanchiea, "I can groa
journey as wcil upon an ass's colt as in a eoach ; I am none of yonx
tender squeamish thiuss, not I." " Peace, wench," quoth Teresa,
" thou know'st not what thou say'st: the gentleman ism the right,
for, 'accordinj to reason, each thing in its season.' When it was
Sancho, it was Sancha; and when (fovemor, my lady. Say I not
right, air ?" " My Lad j Teresa aai a more than she imawnes, enoth
the page; "but pray give me something to eat, and despaten me
quickly ; for I intend to return home tiiis night." " Bo pleased then,
air," said the priest, "to take a humble meal with mé, for Madam
Teresa has more Roodwill than good cheer to welcome so wortliy &
guest." The page refused at first, bat at length thought it best to
comply and the priest very wiLlinijly took him Iiomo with him, that
tie might have an opportunity to inform himself more at larpc con-
oemin; Don Quixote and his eznloits. The bachelor oifercd Teresa
to write anawera to her letters ; nut, as she looked upon him to be
somewhat oí a was, she would not let him meddle in her coneems ;
so she cave a couple of eggs and a modicum of hread to a noviciate
friar wlio was a penman, and he wrote two letters for her, one to her
husband and the other to the duchess, both of her own ioditing ; and
they are none of the worst thinga teconled in tüia great histoiy, as
«ill be seen hereafter.

CHAPTER UL
tif tii profreu if Sandia Paiua'i ¡foternmnt, «M othtr tnUrtaiiiiiiff

Vow the tBOtning dawned that sncceeded the nigfat of the gover-
nor's TOnndi the remainder of which the sewer passed, not in aleep,
but in piMung tJioughts of the lovely face and charming air of
the disguised damsel ¡ and the steward in writing an account to
his lord and My of the words and actions of the new governor, who
Appeared to bim a narrelloas mixture of ignorance and sagacity. Hia

a common mods of odjuratiot

BU SON qnixoTB.

lordsliip Iwing risen, thov gave him, by onier of Dr. Fedi« Kezia, a
little conserve, sni! four draughts of clear spring water, which, ha-sr-

. — ', he would gladly have exchanged for a luncheon of bread ami
a few Éfrapes. But, seeing it was ratbiur a matter of compulsicm lian
choice, he submitted, although with mnch grief of lieart and nuvtifi-
cation of appetite : bcmg assured by his doctor that spore uid dctinte
food sharpened that acute judgment which was so necessary far
persons in authority and hish employment, where a brawny stroigth
of body is much less needful than a vigorous uoderstonding. By this
sophistry Sancho was induced to Btruggle with hunger, while he
inwardly cursed the eovf mment, and even him that gate it.

Nevertheless, on this fasting fare did the worth^r magistraU ajtend
to the administration of justice ; and the first business that oocaned
on timt day was an appeal to his judgment in & case which vsa thus
stated by a stranger— the appellant ; My lord," said he, " there is b
river which passes througb tne domains of a certain lord, dividing it
inlo two parts— I beseech your honour to give me your attention, for
it is a case of great imporianoe and some difficulty. I say, then, that
upon this nvcr there was a bridge, and at one end of it a gallows,
and a kind of court-house, where four judges sit to try, and pass sen-
tence upon those who are found to transgress a certin law enacted
by the proprietor, which runs thus : ' ^Vhocver would pass over this
bridge mast nest declare upon oath whence be comes, and apon whit
business he is going; and, if be swears the truth, he shalL pass over;
but, if he swears to a falsehood, he shall certainly die upon the gibbet
there provided.' After this law was made known, many persons
ventured over it, and the truth of what they swore beiug admitted,
ibcy were allowed freely to pass. But a man now comes demanding
a passage over the bridge: and, on taking the required oath, he
sn'cars tliat he is going to bo executed upon the gibbet before him,
and that he has no other business. Tlie judges debberated, but would
not decide. ' If we let this nian pass freely,' said they, ' he wil! bare
awom falsely, and, by the law, he ought to die ; and, ¿ we hang him,
he win verify his oath, and he, having sworn the truth, ot^fat to h&Te
passed unmolested, as the law ordains.' The case, my lord, is yet
suspended, for the judges know not bow to act: and, therefore,
havmg heard of your lordship's great wisdom and acuu ness, they
have sent me humbly tu beseech your lordship on their behalf, to ¡rive
your opinion in so intricate and perplexing a case." " To deaJ
plainly with yOQ," said Sancho, "these gentlemen judges who sent you
to me might have saved themselves and you the labour; for I have
more of the blunt than the acute in me. llowever, let me hear your

Snestion once more, that I may understand it the better, and maj'hap
may chance to bit the right nail on the head." The man accordingly
told his tale once or twice more, and when he bad done, the governor
thus delivered bis opinisn : " To my thinking," said he, " thi» matter
may soon be settled; and I will tdl you how. The man you sa;,
swears he is going to die upon the gallows, and if he is banfed, rt
would be against the law, because he swore the truth : and if they do
not hong him, why then he swore a lie, and ou^t to have sufferid."
" It is just as you say, my lord ptvemor," said the messenger, " and
nothing more is wanting to tbe right undenuuding of the cue."
" I say, then," continued Saneho, that thev must let that part of
the man pass that swore the truth, and bang tnat put tíoM swore tin

A.OOgIC

IHE KHIGBT*» LMtTÍB TO SANCHO. E06

lie. End thetcliy the law will be obeved." " If so, my lord," replied
tiie stnuiger, tbe man must be divided info two parta ; and thereb?
be will certaioly die, and thus the kw, wliich we ore bound to
observe, is in no respent complied with." " Harkee, honest man,"
Baid Sancho, " either 1 have no brains, or there ia as much r

for, if tbe truth si , , — , „

so, yon may tell those gentlemen who sent jon to me, that sinoe the
reasons for condemninR and acquitting bim are eqaai, they should let
the mao pasa fieelv : for it is always more commendable to do good
than to do haim; akd this adrice I would give yon under my band,
if I oonld write. Nor do 1 speak thus of my own head, bnt on tbe
antbonty of my master Don Quixote, who, on the night before tbe
day 1 came to govern this island, told me, amona many other sood
thrngs, that when justice was doubtful, I should lean t¿ the aide of
mercy ; and God bos been pleased to bring it to my mind in the
present case, in which it comea pat to the purpose." " It does so,"
answered the steward; and. for my part, I think Lycurgus himaelf,
who gave laws to the LaocaEemonians. could not have decided more
wisely than the great Panza bus just oone. And sow let the business
□f the court cease for this morning, and I will give orders tliat my
lord governor shall dine to-day mucb to his satisfaction." " That,"
quoth Sancho, " is what I desire ; give «a fair piay, feed ns well, and
then let cases and questions rain upon me ever so thick I will despatch
them in a trice."

The steward was as good as his word, for it would have gone much
s^amst his conscience to starve so excellent a governor ; besides, he
intended to come to a conclusion witb him that ver? night, and to
play off the last trict he bad in commission.

Now Sancho, having dined to his heart.'B content, tbongh agunst all
the rules and aphorisius of Doctor Tirteatuera, when the cloth was
removed, a couner arrived with a letter from Don Quixote to the
frovemor. Sancho desired tbe secretary to read it first to himself, and
then, if it contained nothing that required secrecv to read it aloud.
The seeretftiy having done as he was commanded. My lord," said he,
" well may it be read aloud, for what Bifrnor Don Quixote writes to
Tonr lordship deserves to be engraven in letters of gold. Fray listen

tiit

DON QUnOTE DB Li MAMCHA TO SANCno TAHZA, GOVEfiSOB OF
TH£ ISXAKD OF BAXAIASIA.

** When I expected, friend Sancho, to have beard only of thy care-
lessness and blunders, I have had accounts of thy vigilance and discrc-
ti<m ; for which I return particular thanks to Heaven, that can raise
up the lowest from their poverty, and convert the fool into a wise man.
I am told, that as a governor thou art a man ; yet, as a man thoa art
scarcely above the brute creature — such is the humility of thy demean-
our. But I would observe to thee, Sancho, that it is often eipedient
and necessary, for the due support of authority, to act in contradic-
tion to the homihty of the heart. The personal adornments of one
that is raised to ahigh situation must correspond with his present
ereatuesB, and not with hia former lowliness : let tby apparel, there-
ton, be good and becoming; ftw the hedgestake when deoorated no

BOS DON Qvixon.

longer, appean what it reallr is. I do oot mean that thou shonldst
wear jeweb, ot finery ; nor beiny a judgi, wmild I bare Ihee dreso
like a soldier ; but adom (nyself in a namier euil^le to thy eraploy-
mcüA. To gain the soodwill of thy people, two tliinits, ainonp othera,
thou must not fail to observe, one is to be courteous to aU— that,
indeed, 1 have already told thoe ; tbe other is to take («pecial caie
that the people be exposed to no scarcity of food ; for, with the poor,
iiDiigeris, of allafflicliüna, tbemost insupportalile. Ptiblish few edicts,
but let those he good; and, above all, see (hat they are well obserted ;
for edicts that are not kept itrc tlio same us not made, and serve only
toshow that the prince, thoU|[h he had wisdom and authoritv to make
them, liELd not the courn^e to insist upon thcii execution. Laws tlk*t
threaten, and are not enforced, become like Kins' Lo?, whose cnnünne
snt^ecCs first feared, then despised bim. fie a father to virtue, and
a stepfather to vice. Be not always severe, nor always mild: but
(ÍOOSB the h^T mean between them, which is the true point of dis-
oretlon. Visit tna prisons, the shambles, and the marked ; for there
the presence of the governor is bighly necessary ; such attention is &
comfort to the prisoner hoping for release ; it is a firror to the but^
ehers, who then dare not make use of false weights ; and the samo
effect is produced on all other dealers. Shouldst thon unhappily be
secretly inclined to avarice, to (rluttony, or women, whirh I hope tLoa
art not, avoid showing thyself cuilty of these vices : for, when thcoe
who are concerned with thee discover thy ruling passion, they will
assault theeon tbat quarter, nor leave thee till they have effected Ihf
destruction. View and review, consider and reconsider, the coun-
sels and documents I gave thee in writing' before thy departure henoo
to thy govemnrent : and in them tiion wilt find a choice supply to sus-
tain thee throu^b tae toils and difbculties which governors must con-
tinmdly encounter. Write to thy patrona, the duke and duchess, and
show thyself grateful ; for ingratitude is the daughter of pride, and
one of ibe greatest sins ; whereas be who is grateful to those that
have done him service, thereby testifies tbat he will be grateful also to
God, his craistant benefactor.

" My Indy duchess baa despatched a, messenger to thywifo l^resft
with tny hunting-suit, and alsoapresent from herself. Weeipectan.
aolwer every moment. 1 have been a little out of order with a certai»
catclawiug which befcl me, not much to the advant!^ of my nme ;
W it was nothing ; for, if there are enchanters who persecute me,
there are others who defend me. Let me know if the steward who ia
with thee bad any hand in the actions of the Trifaldi, as thou hast sus-
pected : and give me advice, from time to time, of all that happens
fo thee, since the distance between ns is so short. I think of quilting
this idle life very soon ; for I was not born for tnxnry and ease. A
circumstance has occurred which n»r, I beKeve, tend to deprive ara
of the favour of the duke and duchess; out, thongh it afllictsmemndi,
it affects not my determination, for I must comply with the duties of
my profession in urefcrence to any other claim ; aa it is often said,
Amteut Flato, tea magit arnica VerifoM. I write tliis in Latin, bang
persuaded that thou hast learned that language shice thy cromotion.
farewell, and God have thee in Hia keepii^ : so mayest toon escape
the pity of the world.

"Tby friend,

" DoM Qmxon db ia. Kaxoha." '
A.OOgIC

GAXCno'S AX9WEK TO THE ESIGHT. G07

Sancho listened with great sttention to the letter, which wa» praised
for ira wisdom hy nil who tieard it ; and, rising from table, be tool his
secretary with him into his private chamber, beine desirous tosendmi
iinmcdinte ansffer to liis master; and he orderea htm to nritc, with-
out adding or diminishios a little, «bat be should dictate to him.
lie WIS obeyed, and the answer was as follows : —

"SAXcno risZA to boíi QirrcoTE de l¿ mancha.

"I am so talccn up with business, that I have scarcelr time either
to scratoh my head or even to pare my nails, and therefore, HeaTen
help me ! 1 wearthem vCTy long-. I tell your worship this, tliat you
m»y not wonder why I haio (tiven yon no account before of my weii
or ill being io tliis (^vemment, where I anffer more hunger than when.
WB both wandered about throush woods and deserta.

" Mr lord duko wrote to me the other dar, to tell me oí certain
spies that were come into this iajand to take away my life - but, as
yet, I bave been able to find none, cieept a certain doctor, nircd by
the islanders to kill their coyemors. He calls himself Doctor Veám
Beño, and is a native of Tirleafuera ; so your worship may see by hie
name that one is in danger of dying under his hands. The same doc-
tor owns that he does not cure distempers, but prevents tbera, for
which he prescribes nothing but fasting and fasting, till he reduces
his patient to bare bones ; as if a consumption was not worse tban a
fever. In short, by this man'a help, I am in a fair way to perish by
hunger and venation ; and, instead of ooming hither, as I expected, to
eat not, md drink cool, and ley my body at night between Holjand
sheets, npon soft beds of down, I am come to do penance, like a her-
mit ; and this goes so much against me, that I do believe tlie devil
will have me at last.

" Hitherto, I have neither touched fee nor bribe ; and how I am to
fare hereafter, I know not ; but I have been told that it was the cus-
tom with the governors of tins island, on taking possession, toreoeive
a good round sum h}[ wny of gift or loan from the townspeople, and
furthermore, that it is the same in all other governments.

" One nignt, as 1 was going the round, I met a very comely damsel
IB man's clothes, and a brother of hers in those of a woman, i/fy
sewer fell in love vritb the girl, and bas thoagbts of making her his
wife, and I have pitched upon the yonth for mj son-in-law. To-daf
VB Mth intend t« disclose our minds to thoir father, who is one
i>iego de la Liana, a gentleman, and as good a Chriation as one cam

" I visit the markets, as your wonhip tdvised me, and yesterday I
ftrand a huckster-woman pretending to sell new hasel-nuts, and, finding
tlist ahe had mixed them with such as were old and rotten, I eondemnea
them all to the use of the hospital boys, who well knew he to pick
ilie good from the bad, and forbade her to appear in the market again
fbr fifteen da;rs. The people say I did well in this matter, for it w a
commcm opinion in this town that there is not a worse sort of peoplo
than your market women ; for they are all sfaameless, hard-heartcd,
and impudcnti and I veiily believe it is so, by those I have seen m
other places.

" I am miriitily pleased that my lady duchess bas written to my

wife Teresa Pama, and soit her toe present your worship mentions ;

A.OOgIC

sos DON qOlXOTE.

1 hope one time or other to requite her goodness; pray kiss her
hoiioui*a hands in mj name, and tell her slie has not tbrown her
faTours into a rent sack, as she will find.

"i should be gricTed to hear that jou had an; cross rcckoninss
with m; lord and lad}' ; for if vour worship quarrels wi(h them, 'tis I
must come 1o llie ground ; and, smce you irani me, of all things, not
to be ungrateful, it would ill become jonr worsiiip to be so towards
those who have done you so maay kin^iesses, and entertained yoa so
nobly in tlieir castle.

" The cal business I don't understand— one of the tricks, majhap,
of your wotship'sold enemies, the enohanters ; but I sh^ know more
about it when we meet.

"I would fain send j-onr worship atoken, but I eaniwt tell what,
nnJess it be some little clj;ster-pipes which they make hero verx aaü
ously ; but, if I coutinue in office, 1 shall get fees aod other {Mokin^
worth sending yon. If my wife Teresa Pama wiites to me^ be lO kind
as to pay the postee and send me the letter ; for I have a mighty
desire t« know how fares it with her, and my jiouse and children. So
Heaven protect your worship bom evii-minded cnehanters, aitd hñúg
me safe and sonnd out of this goverament : which I very much douU,
seeing how I am treated by Doctor Fedro Sesio.
" Your worship's servant,

" Sahcho Paüea, the governor."

The secretary sealed the letter, and it was forthwith daspatchod hj
tbo courier ; and, as it was now indged expedient t« ralease tlie gmec-
nor from the troubles of office, measures were concerted by those who
had the management of tliess jests. Sancho passed that afttmoon in
making divers rcgulatioos for the beneTit of bis people. Among

others, he strictly prohibited the monoply and forestalling of pro-
viáons ; wines he allowed to be imported from all parta, requiring
only the mercliant to declare of wiiat erowth it was, that a just price

might beset upon it; and whoever adulterated it, or gave it a

name, should be punished with death. Uo modcraied the prtcss of
all sorts of hose and shoes, especially the latter, the cuirent price of

-^ day or by night; and prohibited the vagrant btind from.

gtüng about singing their mirades in rhyme, antess tncyconld produce
unquestionable evidence of their tr\ith : being pcivuaded that swh,
conntcrfcit t^ilos brought discrediC upon those which were geaidne.
He appointed an overseer of iht poor,-'not to persecute them, bat to
exanuno their true claims ; for under the disguise of pietendea lame-
ness and oonnterfeit sores are often fonnd sturdy thieves and ha^
dronkards. In short, he made many good and wholesome -wdinanees,
wjiich are still observed in that town; and, brarmg bis name, are
called, " The Regnlations of the great Gorenior Sancho I'anta." ,

UignieUbyGoOglc

CHAÍTERLUI.

Cid Hahbtz relates that Ikín Quixote, beinc now properl; healed
of bis -wounds, began to think the ufe he led in that casttewusgaiiHt
all the niles oif bis profesión, and therefore he detennined to tequest
his noble host and hostess to grant him their penniasion to depart for
Saragossa, as the approochinft toarnament drew near, wherein he
proposed to win the suit of armour whioh vas the priui at that
&Btival.

But as he was diiriiw one day with their highnesses, and preparing
to nnfoid his pnrpoee. To ! two women, nlad in deep monrning, enterea
the great hall, and one of them, advancing towards the tame, threw
herself at Don Quixote's feet, whidt she embraeed, at the same time
pouring forth so many groans that all present were astonished, and
the duke and duchesa suspected it to he some jest of their domestics :

Jet the groans and sobs of the female appeared so much like real
istreas that they were in doubt, until the eorapasaionate Don
Quixote raised her from the ground, and prerai led with her to remove
the veil from her weeping visage, wnen, to their surprise, thej beheld
the duenna Donna Rodrigue^ accomiMinied by her unfortonate
daughter, who bad been deluded by the rioh farmer's son. This dis-
covery was a fresh cause of amazement, especially to the duke and
duchess, for, though they knew the good woman's simplicity and
folly, they had not thought her quite so absurd. At length Donna
B¿cri^ee, turning to her lord and lady, " May it )>lease your excel-
lencies," said she, " to permit me to speak with this gentleman, hj
whom I hope to be relieved from a pmileiity in which we am
invt^ved by a cruel, impudent vilUin" The dnke told her that she
had hia pwmiasion to say whatever she pleased to Don Quixote.
WhereupoD, addressing herself to the knight, she said, " It ia not
long, valorouB kni^t, since I gave you an account how basely and
treacberouBly a «H^ed peasant had used my poor dear child, Hii»
nufortuDate ^1 here present, and yon promisra me to stand np in
her defence and see her righted ; and now I understand that you ho
about to leave this castle in search of good adventures— whioh Heaven
send you — my desire is that, before yon go forth into the wide world,
jDu would challenge that moeleas villam, and force him to wed my
dau^ter, as be promised oeTore he overcame her BUtiden acruples ;
foi to expect jnstice in this a&ir Irom my lord duke would, for the
leasons I mentioned to yon, he to look (or pears on an elm-tree ; so
Heaven preserve your worsiiip, and still be our defence."

" Worthy madam," replied Don Quixote, with much gravity and
trtateliness, " moderate yonr tears — or rather dry them up, and spare
your sighs : for I take upon me the charge of seeing your daughter's
wrongs redressed : though it had berai better if she had not been so
ready to believe the piomiMs of lovers, who, for the most part, are

510 SON quizoTZ.

forward to make promises, and very sIot to perfonu them. Hov-
erer, I will, wilh my lord duke'a leace, depart immediAtelv ia aeat«k
of tliis ungracious youth, nod will chaUenae and ala; him if he lefnaa
to perform liia contract : for the chief end and piupoae of mjr pra-
feasion is, to apare the bumble, and chastise the proud ;— I mean, to
succour the wretched, and destroy the oppressor." Sir knight,"
said the dul;e, "you need not trouble yourself to seek the rustic
of whom this good duenna compkina ; nor need you aak my permb-
aion to chaUenije him: regard him as ^ready cliullengcd, and leare
it to mc to ol]li::e him to answer it, and meet you in person here in
this casde, ititliin the lists, where all the usn^ ceremooies shall be
observed, and impartial jastice distribnted ; crnifomiabl'i to the prae~
tice of all princes, who grant the lists to combatants within the bounds
of their territories," '" Upon that assurance," said Don Quixote
" with your grace's leave, I waive on this occasion the punctilios of
my gentility, and de^itde myself to the level of the offender, that he
may be qualified to meet mc in equal combat. Thu!, then, thoogh
absent, I challenge and defy him, upon account of the iiijurv he Us
done in deceiving ibis poor girl, who through his fault, is no longer a
maiden ; end he shall eilher perform his promise of becoming h^
lawful husband, or die iu the contest." Thereiipoa pulling off his
glove, he cost it into the middle of the ball, and the dnke immedi-
ately took it up, decleriiijr, as he bod done before, tiiat he accepted
the challenge in the name of his vassal, and that the combat ahoald
teke place six days alter, in the inner court of his castle: the
arms to be those customary among knights — nainely, a lance, shield,
and Iftccd suit of armour, and all the other pieces, without deceit,
fraud, or any superstition whatever, to be first viewed and examined
by the judges of the Geld. " But first it will be necessary," he fui^
liier said, "that this good dueona here, and this naughty damsel,
shoulil commit the justice of their cause to the hand of their cham-
pion Don Quixote ; for otherwise the challenge would become loiá,
and nothing be done," "I do commit it," answered the duenna.
" And I too," added the daughter, all in tears, ashamed and oon-
fosed.

The day being fixed, and the duke determined within himself what
should be done., the mourning supplicants retired ; at the same time,
the duchess gave orders that they should not bo regarded as domes-
tics, but as ladies-errant, who came to seek justice in her castle, A
separat« apartment was therefore allotted to tlicm, and they were
served as strang^ers — to the amusement of the rest of the household,
who could not imagine what tvos to be the end of the folly and pre-
sumption on the part of tlie duenna and her forsaten daugliter,

A choice dessert lo their entertoinment now succeeded, and to give
it a happy completion, in camo the page who had carried the letten
uid presents to Governor Sancho a wife Teresa. The duke and
duchess were much pleased at his return, and eagcrto learn the par-
ticulars of bis journey. He said, in reply to their inquiries, that be
could not give bis report so publicly, oor m few words, and therefore
entreated their graces would be pleased to hear it in private, and in
" .n time accept of what amusement the IKters he had nought

TEXBU FAHZA'B LBITES IO ia£ DUCHESS.

fetter, which she eagerly opened, and, after hastily ruaning her eye
over It, iinding nothing Ijiit reqnireU secreci', she read it aloud to tbe
dnke and the rest of the compauj, ana the following were its
contents:—

TEBzaL tíszil's letttb to the duchess.

" lly lady,

" The letter yoox freiUness sent (o me made me right glad, and,

ia faiili, I longed for it i>iii;lilily. The atriiiR of corals is very good,

and my hushaiid'a huntiug-auit comes not sliurt of it. All the people

iu our toiTutiiik; of yoiir ladyship's groodncss in making my husbaoa a

EveruoFf though nobody Believes it ;~pspeciiilly the priest and
ister Nicholas the barber, and the bachelor Samson Cnnasco. liut
vhat care IP for so long as the thing is so as it is, they may say wliat
they list; tlioiwh, to own the truth, I should not have oelieved it
Diyaelf but for the corals and tlie habit ; for.in this village everybody
takes my husband for a dolt, and cannot tliink what govemmeiit he
can be good for, but over a herd of goats. Heaven be his guide, and
speed Jiim. in what ia best for his diildxen. Aa for me, dear honej-
sweet madam, I am bent upon mating hay while the sun shines, and
lúe me to court, to loll ¡n my coach, though it makes» thousand that
1 could name store their eyes out to see mo. So pray hid wy hus-
band to send me a little money — and let it be enough : for I reckon
it ia dear living at court, where bread sells for sixpence, and meat for
thirty maraTecua the pound, which ia a judgment ; and if he ia not
for my going, let him send me word in time, for mv feet tingJe to be
on the tramp ; and besides, my neighbours all tell me that if I and
my daughter go stately and tine at court, my husband will be better
known by mo than I by him ; and to he sure, many will ask, what
ladies are those in that coach F and will he told by a footman of ours
that 'tis the wife and daughter of Sancho Panza, governor of the
island of Barataría; and so shall my husband be known, and I much
looked upon— to Rome fw everythingt

" 1 am as sorry as sorry can be, that hereabouts there has been no
gatherins of acorns this } car of any account ; but, for all that, 1 send
your bighncsa about half a peck, which I went to the lulls lor, and
with my own hands picked them one by (me, and oould find no bettor
—I wish they had been na big as ostrich eggs.

"Pray let not your mightiness forget to write to me, and I will
take care to answer, and send you tidings of m^ healtli, and all the
news of the village whei-e 1 now reniaiu, praying our Lord to nre-
aerve your greatness, and not to furget me. My daughter Sauchica
jud my Bon kiss your ladyship's hands.

"abe who is more minded to see than to write to your ladyship,
" Your sfflrant,

" Teeeba, Pajiza."

Teresa's letter gave great pleasure to all who beard it, especiaUy
ibe dnke and duchess, insomuch that her grace asked Don Quixote
ii he thought her letter to the sovetnor might with propriety be
opensil, as it muat needa be admirable : to wiiicU he lepUed that^ to

A.OOgIC

SIS DON qUIXOtS.

satisr^ Iier hkhness's cntiosity, be would open it. Accordioglf lie did

■o, and found it to contain what foilows i —

TBBEZA FANU's LETTBE TO HEE HDaBAHV EAXCHO TAKZi.

" I received thy letter, dear husband of mj; soul, and I tow
and swear to thee, aa I am a Catbolio Christian, that I was
withb two flngera' breadth of rmming mad with jov. Yes, iodeed.
when I came to hear that thon wast a goiernor, metnousht 1 ahonld
hare dropped down dead for mere sladness j for 'tis said, thou know'st,
that auddcujof kills as soon as great sorrow. Andas forour daugh-
ter Sanchica, verily she could not contain ¡lersclf, for pure pleasure.
There I had before mj eyes thy suit, and the coraJs sent by tny
lady duchess about my neck, aud the letters in my hands, and the
youne man that brought them standing by ; yet, for all that, I
thoD^t it could be nothing bat a dream : for who could think
that a cüBtherd should ever come to be a governor of islands!
My mother nsed to say that ' he who would see mnch must liTO
long." I say this because, if I live longer, I hope to see more ; —
DO, faith, I shall not rest tilt I see thee a tax-fancier, or a collector
of the customs : for, though they be afacea that send many to the
devil, there is much money to be touched aud turned. My ladf duchess

--" *-" 'hee how I have a huge lot" -- ■"' " '* ' .1—1- _? -.

le know thy mind ; for I w

riding in a coach.

" Neither the priest, the barber, the bachelor, nor even the sexton,
can yet believe thon art a governor, and will nave it that it is sU a
cheat, or a matter of enchantment, like the rest of thy master Don
Quixote's affairs ; and Samson says he will liod thee out, and drive
tñis goverumeot out of thy pate, and scour thy master's brains. But
I only laugh at them, and look upon my string of corals, and think
how to make thy suit of green into a haoit for our daughter. I sent
my lady duchess a parcel of acorns :-~I wish they haa been of gold.
Frythce send me some strings of pearl, if they are in fashion in that
same island. The news of our town is that Bermeca has married her
daughter to a sorry painter, who came here and undertook any sort of
work. The corporation employed him to paiot the king's arms over
the gate of the town-house. He asked them two ducata for the
job, which they paid beforehand; so he fell to it, and worked ei^t
days, at the end of which he had made nothing of it, and said he
could not bring his hand to paint such trumpery, and returned the

yet ' '■ ■' ' ■

_.__._ this ._ ...._ ___ _ _._ , ,

to the field like a gentleman. Fedro de Lobo's son has token 01 ,

and shaven his crown, meaning to be a priest. Mingnilla, Mingo
Stivato's niece, hearing of it, is suing him upon apromise of marriage;
— evil tongues do not stick to say she is with child by him ; hut oe
denies it stifflv. We have had no olives this year, nor is there a drop
of vbeeaj' to be had in all the town. A company of foot-soldiers passed
through here, and carried off with them three girls — I will not say who
they are ; mayhap they will return, and somel^dy or other marry them,
with all their foulta. Sanchica makes bone-iace, and gets eight
maravedís a day, which she drops into a saving-box, to help her
towards honsehold stuff; but now that she ia a governor's daugk-

money ; vet, for all that, he married in the name of a good workman.
The trutn ii he lias left his brushes and taken np the spade, and
■ ■■ "ddlikea ■' ^ .....*'. ^V-

UBXT itmci or TCRESA'a uttzs. 613

tet she tuts no need to woil^, for tliou vilt ^ve hex a portioB
withoat it. The fountain in our market-place is drieá ap. A thun-
derbolt fell upon the pilloi?. and there may they all light ! I
eipect an anawer to this, and about m; going to court. And ao God
gnmt thee more jears than mjrsel^ or u man;, for I would not
Tillingljr leare thee behind m

"Thyirifa

Pakzá."

TÍm letter caused much meriiment, applause, and admiration ; and
to complete all, the courier nov arrived, who broueht the letter sent
in Sancho to ma master, which was also read aloao, and occasioned
the govemor'a tollj to be much questioned. The dachess retired to
hev from the page tbe particulars of bia joumc; to Sauoho's villt^
all of which he related very minutely, without omitting a single cir-
cumstance. He deliTercd the acorns, also a cheese^ which Teresa
presented as an excellent one, and better than those of Tronchon.
These the duchess received with gieat satisfaction ; and here we will
leave them, to record how the govenunent ended of the gnat Sancho
TausB, the flower and mirror lU all island goremon.

UignieUb, Google

BOOK IV.

CHAPTER IJV.

Of tAt ioHtotu MÍ md coidiaion of SanAo Pioua'i parer^mnL

It ii in Tiin to expect timforniity in the Etffurs of this life ; the
whole Keema nther to be in a course of perpetual chftn^. Tha
seasons from fear to year ran in their appointed eircle, spring is
succeeded hj summer, snnimer b; autumn, and autumn qv winter,
which is u:BLn follows by the season of renoration : uid thus thej
perform tlieir everlasting round. But man's mortal career has no
such renewal : from infancy to a^e it hastens onward to its end, and
to the beginning of that atat^ which has ueilhcr change nor termina-
tion. Such aro the rrflections of Cid Haiiiete, the Mahomedan
philosopher ; for many, by a natural sense, without the light of faith,
bave diacovered the changeful uncertainty of our present conditioa,
and the eternal duration of that vhirh is to come. In this plac^
however, onr anthor alindes only to the instability of Saucho's for-
tune, end the brief duration of his govenunent, which so suddenly
expired, dissolved, and vanished like a dream.

The governor being in bed on the seventh night of hia adminÍEtia-
tion, not sated with bread nor wine, but with sitting in judgment,
deciding causes, and making statutes and prodamatious ; and just at
the moment when sleep, in despite of hunger, vras closing liis evelids,
he heard such a noise of bells and voices that he verily tbon^nt the
whole island had been sinking. lie started up in hia bed, and listened
with great attentinu, to find out, if posaible, the cause of so alarming
an uproar ; but far frotn discovering it, his confusion and terror went
only augmented by the din of an infinite number of trumpets and
drums being added to the former noises. Quitting hia bed, he put on
his alippers, on account of the damp floor ; but, without uight-gown,
or other apparel, he opened his chamber-door, and saw more than
twenty persona cominz along a gallery with lighted torches in their
hands, and their swords drawn, all et.ving aloud. " Arm, arm. my lord
goveraor, arm!— a world of enemies arc t^t into the island, and wo
are undone for ever, if your conduct and valour do not save ua."
Thus advancing, with noise and disorder, they came up to where
Sancho stood, astonished and stiipified with what he heard and saw.

" Arm >ourself qnicklj, my lord," said one of them, " unless yon
would be ruined, and (lie whole island wilh you." " What have Ito
' ing of arms ot
m; master Dou
A.OOgIC

.._ _.li anniug, replied Sancho, " who know nothing of arms o.
fighting t it were belter to leave these umtiers to m; master Dou

s

SAÜCHO CALLED TO BAITUE. G15

Quixote, vlio will despatch them and secure us in a trice : for as I am
B sinner to Heaven, t understand nothing at all of these burly-borljs."
" How ! sienor gorernor P " said another ; " what faint-he&rtedneas
is Diis f Here we hring you arms and weapons — harness yonrself, my
lord, and come furth to the market-place, and be our leader and our
captain, which, as governor, yon onght to be." " Why then arm me,
in God's name," replied Sancho ; and instantly they brought two largo
old targets, which toey had provided tor the occasion, and, without
allowing hiin to put on otbcrgarinentSjcUiiiped them over his shirt, the
one before and the other behind. They thrust his anna through boles
they had made in them, and bound them so fast together with eords
that the poor commander remained cased and b<»rded up as stiff and
straight as a spindle, without power to bend hi» knees, or stir a single
step. They then put a hmce mto hia hand, upon which he leaned to
keep himself up ; and thus accoutred, they desired him to lead oa
and animate his people ; for he being taeir nortb-pole, their l^thom,
and their morning star, their affairs oould not fail to have aproe-
pemus issue. " How should I march— wretch that I am ! " said the
goremor, " when 1 cannot stir a Joint between these boards, that
mto my flesh * Your only way is to cany me in your arms, and
: athwart, or set me upright, at some gate, wliich I willmamtun

with my iance or my body." " Fie, signer governor ! " said

another, " it is more fear than the targets that hinders your marebing.
Hasten and exert yourself, for time advances, the enemy pours m
upon us, and every moment incceaaes oar danger."

The unfortunate governor, thus urged and upbraided, mode efforts
to more, and down ne fell, with such violence that he thought everr
bone baa been broken; and there he lay, like a tortoise in nis shell,
or like a flitch of bacon packed between two boards, or like a boat on
the sands keel upwards. Though they saw his disaster, those jesting
rogues had no compassion ; on the contrary, putting out their torches,
they renewed the alarm, and. with terrible noise and precipitation,
trampled over his body; ana bestowed numerous blows upon the
targets, insomuch that^ if he had not contrived to shelter ms head
between the bucklers, it had gone hard with tlie poor governor, who,
pent up within his narrow lodging, and sweating with few, pro,j;ed,
from the bottom of his heart, fur dehvcranoe from that horrible
situation. Some kicked him, others stumbled, and felt over him, and
one among them jumped upon bis body, and there stood as ou a
watcli-tower, issuing his orders to the troops. " Tliero, hoys, there I
that way the enemy charges thickest; defend that breacn; secure
yon gate ; down with those scabng ladders ; this way with your
Kettles of melted pitch, rcsiu, and flaming oil ; quick ! fly !— get wool-
packs and barricade the streets ! " In short, he called for all the
instruments of death, and evcrjthing employed in the defence of a
city besieged and stormed. All this while Sancho, pressed and bat-
tered, lay and heard what was passing, and often said to himself, " O
that it would pipase the Lord that tins island were but taken, and I
conld see mvself either dead or delivered out o( this devil's den!"
Heaven at last heard his prayers, and, when least c^pectinK it. he
was cheered with shouts of triumph. "Victory! victory!" they
cried, "the enemy is routed, llisc, sipior governor, enjoy the con-
quest, and divide the spoils taken from the foe by the valour of that
invincible arm ! " " Baise me up," quoth Sancho, in a woeful tone ;
3 L 3 I- 1 ■■ ■ A.OO'^IC

and vhen the; had placed him upon his legs, he said, " AH the enemiea
I have routed may be UBÜed to tnj forehead. I wtU divide no spoils;
hut 1 beg and entreat some fneud, if I have any, to give me a
draught of wine to keep me from choking with thirst, and help me
to dry up thia sweat j for I am aknoat turned into water." Thej
untied the tar^t^ mpcd him. and brouglit him wine; aod, vhen
seakd ujion his bed, such baa been hia fatigue, agony, and terror,
that he fainted away. Those concerned in the joke were now sony
they had laid it on so heavily ; but were consoled on seeing him
recover. He asked tlietn what tune it was, and thej told him it was
duybreaL He said no more, but proceeded, in silence, to put on his
clutlies ; while the rest looked on, curioDs to know what were his
intentions.

M length, having put on his clothes, which he did slowly, and witb
much difficulty, froia his bruises, he bent Jiisway to the stable, fol-
lowed by all present, and going straight to Dapple, he embraced nim.
and gave liijii a kiss of peace on his forehead. " Come hither," said
he, with tears in hia eyes, " my friend, and the partner of my fatigoes
and miseries. ^I'ben I consorted nilh thee, and hod no other care
but mending thv furniture, and feeding thai little carcase of tlum,
happy were my nours, my days, and my years ; hut since I forsook
thee, and moimted the towers ot ambition and pride, a thousand toils,
a thousand torments, and ten thousand tribulations, have seized and
worried my sauL" While he thus spoke, he hxed the pamiel upon
his ass without interruption from anybody, and when he had done,
with great difficulty and pain he got ujxm him, and said to the
steward, the secretair. the doctor, Pedro Rezio, and many others
who were present, "Makew^, gentlemen, make way, and let me
return to my ancient liberty ; let me seek the life I have left, that I

nrise a^uin from thia grave. I was not bom to be a governor, noi
efend islands nor cities from enemies that breuk in upon them. I
understand better how to plough and dig, to plant and prune vines,
than to make laws, and take care of provinces or kingdoms. Saint
Peter is well at Rome : — I mean to say, that nothing becomes a man
so well as the etaployment be was bom for. In mv band a sickle is
better than a sceptre. I had rather have my bellyful of mv own poor
porridge, than to be mocked with dainties by an officious doctor, who
would kill me with hunger ; I had rather lay under the shade of ao
oak in summer, and wrap myself in a jerkin of double sheep's-skin in
winter, at mr hberty, than lay nie down, under the slavery of a

Kvcrnmeut, between Holland sheets, and be robed m fine sables.
»Yen be with yon, gentlefolks ; tcU my lord duke that naked was I
horn, and naked I am; I neither win nor lose; for without a penny
came I to tills government, and without a peony do I leave it— all

fovemors camiot say the like. Make way, gentlemen, I beseech you,
liut I niay go and phuster myself, for I venij believe all my ribs are
broken— ttiEuiks to the enemies who have been trampling over me all
night long."

' It must not be so, signor governor," eaid the doctor, "for I will

e your loidsldp a b^mic draugnt, good against all kinds of
bruises, that abal! presently restore you to your former health and
vigour; and as to your food, my lord, I promise to amend tliat, and
let you eat abundantly of whatever you desire," " Your promises
come too lat<^ Mr. Doctra," quoth Sancho ; " I will as «wo turn
, , . .A.OOgIC

8U(CB0 EES1QI18 BIS GOTZENlfSItT, S17

Tnrk »a remiin here. These tricks are not to be utafcd twice ; —
'fore Heaven, I will do more hold this nor an^ oilier goTPrnment,
thouffli it were served up to me in & covered dish, than I will fly to
heaven withont wings. I am of the rnce of the Piinza.i, who are
made of atubbom stnff ; and if the? once cry. Odd !— odds, it shall
hcj come of it what will. Here will I leave the pismire's winzs that
nused me aloft to he peeked at by martlets and other small birds ¡
ajid be content to walk upon plain ground, with a plain foot ¡ for
thoueh it be not adorned with pinked Cordovan shoes, it wül not
wait for hempen sandals. Every sheep with its like ; alretch not yonr
feet beyond yon r jieet ; so let mebegone, for it grows late." "Signor

Svcmor," said the steward, "we would not presume to hrader your
parture, although we are grieved to lose you, hecause of jour wise
and Christian conduct ; but your lordship knows that ever; governor
b^ore he lays down hb authority is hound to render an accoant of
Ilia administration. Be pleased, my lord, to do so for the time wiiich
you have been among as ¡ then peace be with yon." " Nobody can
require that of me," replied Sancho, " but my lord dute; toJiim I
Ko, and to him I shall give a fair and square account; though, in

{oing away naked, as I do, there needs nothing more to show that I
ave governed hke an angcL" " Before Heaven " said Doctor Pedro
Rezio, "the great Sancho is m the rijht, and I am of opinion we
should let him go; for without doubt, liia highness will be dad to see
bim." They all agreed, therefore, that he should be allowed to
depart, and also offered to attend him and provide him with wliatcver
was necessary, or convenient, for his journey, Snnoho told them he
wanted only a little barley for Dapple, and half a cheese and half a
loaf for himseK; that having so snort a distance to travel, nothing
more would be needful, liereupon they aU embraced him, which
kindness Lc returned with tears in his eyes, and he left them in
admiratioQ both oí bis good sense and unalterable firmness.

CHAPTER LT.

o íí£i particular hUWry ana li

Tr£ duVe and
their vassal shoiU
fled into Fhinder
in-law, they mad<
supply his place,
perforin his part ;
ncnt would in fc
knight, and prer
beard, and even I
a promise of i

n Quiwtt^ wh.
an opportunity of
fortunate that be

UignieUb, Google

618 DO» qcixon.

talon to «¡Teproob of the raloor of hia heart uid the strenstli of hü
arm ; ana 30 irith infiuite content he waited the four days, which his
eager impatience made him think were so many ages.

Now lettbg tiiem pass, as we hive douc inimy other iniitlera, we
■will turn to our friend Sancho, who partly alad and partly sorroaful,
was hasteninj; as fast as bis Dapple would carry him to his master,
whose society he loved better than beiug governor uf all the isluuds
in the world. He had not, however, proceeded far fiom this islaud,
city, or town (for which of these it was, he had never ziren hiuisdl
the trouble to determine), when he saw on the high roai^ six pilgrims
with their staves, bebg foreigners of that class who were wont to
sing their supplications for alms. As they drew nc^, they uUiced
themselves in order, and began their song in the language of their
country : but Sancho understood nothing except the word signifyüig
alms : whence he concluded that alms wus the object of their chant-
ing; and he being, as Cid Hametc says, extremely charitable, he toojc
the half loaf and half cheese out of his wallet and gave it then,
makipg signs, at tbe same time, that be had nothing else to give.

Tliey received his donation eagerly, saying, "GnSte, quelle."* "I
do not understand you," answered Sandio i "what is it you would
liave, good peoplef One of them then drew out of his bosom a
purse, and, showijig it to Sancho, iutbuttcd that it was money thejr
wanted, u^n which Sancho placing liis thumb to his tluxml, and et-
tending his hand upward, gave tuem to understand he had not a
penny m the world. Then clapping heels to Dapple^ he uutde way
through them; but as he passed, oy, one of theui, looking at him vilh

£uticular attention, caught hold of him, and ttirowing his arms about
is waist, "God be my aid!" said he, m good Castilian, "what bit
I see? Is it possible I hold in my arms my dear friend and ^ood
seighbouT, Sancho Panza ? Yes, truly, it must be so, fur 1 am ncitliei
dnmk nor sleeping." Sancho, much surprised to hear himself called
by his name, and to he embraced by the stranger pilgrim, stared at
him for some time, without speakhig a word, but I hough he viewed
him earnestly, he eould not recollect him. " How ! " said the pilgrim,
ohserving his amazement, " have you forgotten your neighbour Ricole,
the Morisco shopkeeper of your town ?" Sancho, at length, after a
fresh examination, recognised the face of an old acquaintance, and,
without alighting from his beast, he embraced him, and said. Who
in the devil's name, Bicote, would know you in this coveringF Tell
me bow you came to be tlius I'renchified, and how you dare venture
to come again into Spain, where, if you are found out, egad, that coat
of yours will not save vou?" If you do not discover me, Sancho,"
answered the pilgrim, I am safe enough : for in this habit nobody
can Imow me. lint go with us to yonder poplar-grove, where nur
comrades mean to dine and rest themselves, and you shiül eat with
US. They are honest souls. I can assure you ; there I shall have aa
opportnmty to tell you what has befallen me since I was obliged to
leave the town by the king's edict, which, «s you know, caused so
much misery to our people."

Sancho consented, ana after Bicote had conferred with his eomradce,
they all retired together to the poplar giove, which was far enou)^
out of the bigb-iood. There they fiung down their staves, and putting

" A Dutch word, ilgnilying "monay."

S&KCBO ItEBIa ATI OLI> PSIXXD. S19

off tbdr pilgrim's attire, rrei? man appeared in his doublet, excepting
Bicote, who vas somewhat adraneea m years. The; were all good-
looking Toimg fellows; eachhad hisirallet, which, as it soon appeared,
was well stored, at least with relishing incentives to tliirst, and such
as provoke it at two leagues' distance. The; laid themselves along on
the ground, and, making the gross their table-cloth, tJiere was
presently a comfortahle diaplaj of bread, salt, nuts, and cheese, witi.
some bacon-bones, which, though they icoiild not bear picting, were
to be sacked with adrantage. Caviére too was prodaced. a kind
of black eatable made of the toes of fish : — a notable awakener of
thirst. Even olives were not wanting, and though somewhat dry,
they were Eavoory and in good keeping. Bat the glory of the feast
was six bottles of wine : each wallet being charged with one, even
honest BJcote, who from a Moor had become a German, or Hulmnder,
■ and like the rest, drew forth his bottle, which in aiie mi^t vie with
the other five. They now began their feast, dwelling npon each
morsel with great relish and satisfaction, and as if t)iey were det^-
mined to mal^e the most of them; then pausing, they altogether raised
their arms and bottles aloft into the air, mouth to mouth, and with
eyes fixed upwards, as if taking aim at the heavens' and, in this
posture, waving their heads from aide to side in token of the plcasura
ihey received, they continued a long time, transfusing the precious
flnidinto their stomachs. Sancho beheld all this, and, nothing grieved
thereat, but rather in compliance with a proverb he weU knew, '^When
in Rome, do as Home does:" he asked Kicote for his bottle, and took
bis aim as the other? had done, and with equal delight. Four times
the bottles were tilted with effect, but the fifth was to no purpose, for
alas ! they were now all empty, and as dry as a rush, which struck a
damp on Che spirits of the party. Nevertheless, one or other of tliem
wavSd ever and anon take Sancho by the hand, saying;, " Spaniard and
Dutchman, all one, goot companion." "Well said i'faith !" replied
Sancho, " goot companion I vow to gad ! " — then burst into a fit c€
laughing which held hiiri an hour, Icemg at the tin» all recollection
erf the events of his government ; — for care has no control over tbJe
time that is spent in eating and drinking. In short, the finishing <d
the wine was the beginning of a sound sleep, wbich seized them all,
upon their very board and Uble-cloth, — Kicote and Sancho excepted ;
—they having drunk less and eaten moi-e, remained awake, and
leaving their companions in a deep sleep, wait a little aside and sat
down under the shade of a beech tree, where Kicote, in pure
Caatilian, without once stumbling into his Morisco jargon, spoke as
follows:

" You Tvell know, friend Sancho, the dread and terror which his
U^esty*! proclamation everywhere produced among our people ;" at

* WhiD tha Hoon wen in ¡xmes^n of Spain, Ihey uUowed the Chrii-
tiana to r^aain in Om country, with the free eiereiao ol thalr holy religioi^
but nd^sot to oartaln impoaU. On the reator&tioD of the ChnsUau powor,
the Moon were likewlie suSered to reside in aevaniJB quarten, pajiog
tribute, at wall ■■ the Jewa, to our king uid uoUes. In tlie foor lEiSS,
Chariei tha Fifth ordered, on pain ol death, all tha Uoor* in Spain either
t« embrace the Christian &ith or laate the country. Kumben were thua
lany renuunad and received baptúm, though not aü with
Their Iui(uase, tJudr natk»»! dances, song^ ftten,
n prolübÍt«d. lliew deaoendauta of th«

A.OOgIC

MO soK QüTXon.

kart it bad ikai elfeot npon me, and to snA * decree that I ahurt
imigíned its dread^il penalty had already fallen opon id; own famili-
beforethe tinte limited for oar departure from Spain. 1 endesTonrec^
howeTer, to provide for our aafetv, i^ the prudent man does, 'who^
eneoting to be depritcd of his üabilatioii, looks ont for anoüter
before he is turned oat of doora. 1 c|iiitted the Unra alone, in ae»ték
of some place where I migbt couTeniently remove mj famiiy, williont
that htury and oonfnsion which generally prerBilea; its' the wisest
among ua clearl^r saw that the procbunations of liis Majesty wete no
empty threats, but would eertaraly be carried into effect at the time
which had been fixed. In this belief I was the more oonGrmed from
knowing the dimgerons designs of onr people, bo that I could not hot
think that the king was inspired by Heaven to adopt so wise a measare.
Not that we were culpable : some of ns were steady and tmo Chris-
tisns, but their number was so small as to bear no proportion to thoae
who were otherwise. In abort, the country coula no longer sbelter
the serpent in its bosom, and onr expulsion was inst and cecessarr;
a ponishment which, though some imght treat ughtly, to us is tne
moat terrible that can be inflicted. In whatever part of the world we
«re driven, our affections are centred here ; this alone is our conntry ;
here alone we find the compassion which our misery and misfortune»
demand; forin Barbary, and other parts of Africa, where we expected
to be received and cherished, it is there we are most neglected and
maltreated. We knew not our happiness till we lost it ; and so great
is the desire that we feel to return to Spain, that the moat of those
vho, like myself, can speak the language, and they are not a few,
forsake even their wives and children to revisit the oonntry thej love
M much. Now it is we feel the truth of the saying, ' Sweet la oar
native land!'

" After quitting onr Tillase, I made thebest of my way toFnnoe;
but there, thongh I was well received, my stay was short, as I wished
to examine other oonntries. From France, therefore, I went to Italy,
and thenoe to Germany, where I thought we might Uve withoat
restraint ; the inhabitantj being not over scrupulous, and almost in
every part of the oonntry, enjoy liberty of conscience. There I
engaged a house aituated in a village near Augsbnrgh, and soon after
joined these adventurers in an excursion to Spam, whither great
numbers come erery year to visit the usual resorts of devotees:
regarding it as their Indies, to which they are certain of making a
profitable visage. They traverse the whole kingdom, and there ii not

conqnerors of Spoin vera called Horiicoi, or the new pmwlytai, to dk-
tmgpHh them iroiQ the old ChrffitiaiiB.

Tbeaa Horiiooe were detected in n conspiracy with the Orond Signor and
some ol the chieft of Barbary. On thoducoceryuf this plot, tarioiu ODUU-
dk of prelatca and ministerB were held, in which ojiinlons were divided oa
to the quogtioD ol expulsion ; a moaaure which, ns the only security fur
religion and the country, was, in the end, wiBely adopted. JSdict* wotb
isHuod fbr general banishment, with the exception only of children of eight
years ol age ; ordering likewise that the property they «are allowed to carry
away with them, oonaisting of their good» and chattel», or the money they
might derive from the sale of them, should be all regi<tered at the ports.
On pain of death, no treasurea were to be conceolod, no Horisoo bar-
bound, nor wiBered to return to Spiün ; whioh onleri were. oaveitbriM^

■ TÍBageirlMTe t^tefreiot cetttdn toget mefttaii(tdriDl,and dleart
a real in moner : geMrallr matuigiiu mattera so well m to nhsbs
above a hundred croirns olear nm, which the; dmnge into sold, «od
Mde either in tíis hollow of weic staTes, the patohea of tbeii gar-
ments, 01 some other private way; and thus, in apit« at the
nuBUxona aearclten and other officers, conver it ufdy into theii
own ooontry.

"}í-¡ object, hoverer, in coming hither, ia not to collect alms, bot,
if pouible^ to c&iry off the treoBure I left behind «ben I went awar,
which, bemg bori^ in a place without the town, I can do with little
danger. That being done, I intend to write or ^ to my wife and
daaghter, who, I know, are in Alziers, and contnve means far their
reaching some port of France, ana thence carry them into Gemianf,
wbnv we will wait, and see how Providence will dispose of ub, Fna-
oiaca. mf wife, I Icnow ¡a a good Catholic Ciiristian, and also 017
dau^ter lUcohi ; and, thoogh I am not ectirel; so, ;et 1 am more oif
the Christian thúi the Mahometan, and make it ray constant pra;er
to the Almightjr to open the eyes 01 mv nnderstanding, and make me
know how best to serve Him. But wbat surprises me moch is that
mj wife and dangiiter should have preferred Koing to fiarbaiy, rather
tun FiBoce, where thej mi^ht have lived as Christians."

" Mafhap, neighbonr," said Sancho, " that was not their choice, for
John iSt^yo, your wife's Wther, who oarried them away, being»
Ewok Hoor, w<»ild certainly go where he liked beet to stav; and I can
tell yon another thing, which is, that it may be lost labour now to
seek for your hidden treasore, for the nport was that a power of
jewels and money had been taken from ^or wife and brother-in-law,
whicji they were carrying oft without being registered." "That may
be," replied Ricote : " bat I am sure, Sancho, they did not touch n^
ho«rd ■ for being a^d of some mischance, I never told tliem where
I had hidden it ; and therefore if yon will go with me, and help me to
canty it off, and oooceai it, I «ill give you two hundred crowns, with
which yon may relieve :rour wants; forlknow. friend, that they areuot
a few." " I wonid do it," answered Sandio, but that I am not at aE
covetous. Had it been so with me, it was bnt this motning I quitted
an employment out of which I conW have covered the widla of mj
house with beaten gold, and, in sk months, have eaten my viotwÜB
out of silver plates. And so, for that reason, and because, to ray
thinking, it would be treason against the king to favour his enemies,
I wili not go with you, though, instead of two hundred crowns, yon
shonld lay me down twice as mnch." " And pray what employment
is it you have quitted, Sancho ?" demanded Bicote. " I have been
governor of an island, answered Sancbo, " and such n one, in faith,
as yon would not easily matcL" " Where might this island be F
said Bicote. " Where P" replied Sancho; "why about two leagues
off, and it is called Barataria. " Prythec, not so fast, friend Seoclio,"
qnoth Ricote : " islands are in the sea : there can be no islands here
on land." "No, any yonP" quoth Sancho; "1 tell you, neighbour,
it was bat this vei7 morning that I left it ; yesterday I was there,
governing at my pleasure, like any dragon ;^yet for all that, I turned
my ba<Jc upon it, for that same office of governor, as I take it, b a
ticldisb and dangerous thing." "And what have yon pot by your
governorship F" demanded Kioote. " I have got," rephed Sancho,
.experience enough to knowthatlam Gt to gorem nothing but a
A.OOgIC

raS DOV QtíIZOTI.

herd of cattl^ and Uut the riches to be gained in sach ^orenrntenta
must be paid for in hard labour, and tóU, md watching, a;, and
bunger too; for 3^uc iaUad Kovenuns eat neit to uoOiing, eapedaJlf
if thef hare phyaiciaca to look after tout health." " The meaning a
all this," said Ricote, " I (aimot cocaprehend ; bat it seems t4) me
fOQ talk wildly, for who should ^Te 70U isUods lo govern ? Are wise
men. now so scarce that they must needs make )'ou a goremor? Sa;
so more, man, but come altmg with me, as I said before, and help me
dig up in; treasure — for, in' truth, I may give it that came — and you
shall nave wherewithal to banish care. "Hark jou, friend," «aid
Sancho, " I have airead; told you my mind upon the [wint ; be satisfied
that I will not betray voa, and so in God's name go your way, and tet
me go mine; for I We heard that 'Well-got wealth may meet
disaster, but ill-got wealth destroys its master.

" Well, Sancho," said jRicote, " I will not press Ton farther ; but
tell me «ere you in the tiII^^ when my wife and danshter, and mr
hrother-iu-law, went away ?" '"IValyl was," replied Sancho ; "and
I can teli you too that your daughter looked bo comely uiat all
the town weot out to see her, and evervbody said that there was
none to be compared with her. Poor oamsel! she wept bilteriy
on leaving us, and embraced all her friends and acqaaintances, and
all that came to see her, and desired them to recommend her to
God and to oar Lady his mother ; and so piteously tiat even I
could not help shedding tears, though not much of a weeper; in
faith, many thought of stoppii^ her on the road, and carrying her
off, but the king's proclamation kept them in awe. Boa Pedro
Gregorio, the rich heir, was more moved than all, for they say he was
mightily in love with her ; and, since she went awav he has never
bewi seen in oar town, so that we all thonght he followed to steal
her away; but as yet we have heard notbiug more of the matter."
"Ilonglúd a suspicion," quoth Ricote, " that this gentleman wai
•mitten with my daughter, but, trusting to her virtue, it gave me no
nneaaineaB: for you must have hcaid, Sancho, that the Moorish
vomen seldom or never hold amoroos inlercoutw with old Christians ;
ami my daughter, who, as I believe, minded religion more than lovt
thonght but little of his courtship." " Heaven grant it," replied
Sancho, " for otherwise it would go ill with them both; and now let
me begone, friend, for to-night I intend to join m¿ master Don
Quixote." " God be with you, brother Sancho, saidRieote; "my
comrades ore stirring, and it is time for ns also to be on our tny.
They then embrace each other; Sandio mounted his Dapplt^ and
Bioote leaned on his pilgrim's stuF, and so they parted.

UignieUb, Google

CTIAPTEE LVL

It was so late before Sancbo parted with bis friend Bicote, ÜaA be
could not reuch the duke's caatle that day, altkouRh he was within
baif-o-leogue of it, when tugbt, aoroewhat darker thaD uaua], over-
took him ; but as it was sunttner-time, tliis gave him little concern.
Hud therefore be turned out of tlie road, intending to proceed no
farther till the moruiug. But in seekioi? a convenient shelter for
the night, his ilt-luck so ordered it that he end Dapple fell toge-
ther intu a cavity, amoo^ the ruins of an old buildini{. The bole
was deep, and Sant^ho, in the course of bis descent, (^evoutlf
recomnieudcd himself to Heaven, not eipecting to stop tili he
cajne to the ntmost depth of the abyss: hut therein he was mis-
taken, fur he had not much exceeded three fathoms before Dapple
felt the ground, with Sancho still upon bis back, without hanng
received the smallest danisi^. lie forthwith eiamined the condition
of his body, bcld bis breath, and felt all about him, and, finding him-
self whule, and in cal hollo health, ho thought he coold never be snffi-
cicntly grateful to Heaven for his wonderful prcservatioa ; for be
verily believed he had been dashed into a thonsand pieces, lie liken
groped about the pit, in llie hope of discovwing some means of
getting out, but found that the aides were ^lerpendioolar, smooth,
and without either hold or footing, which gneved him much, espe-
cially when he heard Dapple GToan most niteonsl^; nor did he
lament without a good cause, tor in truth he was m a bad' plight.
"Woeismel" exchtimed Sancho, "wliat sudden and unlooked-for
mischances perpetually befal us poor wretehes who live in this
miserable world ! Who could have thought that he who but yester-
day saw himself on a throne, a governiH' of an island, with officen
and servants at his coll, should, to-do;^, find himself hurled in a pit,
alone, beliilcss, and cut off from all reuef '■ Here most I and my asB
periab with hunger, nnless we die first, he with hruisea, and I with
erief ; for I cannot reckon npon my master's luck in the cave of Mon-
tesinos, where, it seems, be met with bett«r entertainment than in his
own house, and where he found the cloth ready laid^ and tbe bed
ready made. There he saw beautiful and pleasant visions, and her&
if I see anything it will be toads and snakes. TJnfortnnate that I
am! what are nyfollies and myfanciescome to F Whenever it shall
please Heaven that I shall be found, here will my bones be taken up,
deM^ white, and bare, and those of my tiastv Dapple with them : by
whidn, peradventure, it will be guessed who we are — at least by
those who know that Sancho Panza never left his ass, nor did his ass
ever leave Sancbo Fani*. Wretches that we are ! not to have the
comfort of dying among onr ñiends, where at least there would be
some to grieve for us, and, at onr last gasp, tc close our «íes. O my
dear companion and friena 1 how ill have I requited lliy faithful ser-
A.OOgIC

iH» avtson.

lanreat."

Thus did Sancho Panza bewail bis misfortane, and thongli tía asa
Ustened to all be said, yet not a vord did be answer : sucniras the
poOT beut's ajignbh and distress ! At lengtli, after having ntssed
»Si tbat night in lad complaints and bittet troiliugs, day-ltght ocgan
to appear, wlierebf Sancho was soon confinned in what be so muck
leared— tntt it \raa utterly impossible to eieape from that dungeon
iritbout hdp. He therefore had recourse to his voice, and set no &
vigorons outcrr, in the hope of making somebody bear him; bat
tlasi it was all in rain, for not a humun creature ivas within hearing;
and after manytriala he gave himself up as dead and buried. Seeing
that his deaf Uwple iras ;et lying upon his hack, with his month
upwards, be endeavoured to set oim upon his legs, which, with
much ado, he aocomplislied, thoogh the poor aoiinal could scarceir
■tandi he then took a luncheon of bread out of his wallet (whicD
had snared in the disaster) and gave it to his beasL saving to hira,
"Bcead ia relief for all kind of grief;" all of which the ass
appeared to take very kindly. At laat, however, Sancho peroeived a
crevice on one side of tlie pit large enough to admit the body of «
man. He immediately thrust biinsetr into the hole, and creepinj^
upon all-fours, he found it to enlarge as he proceeded, and that it
led into uiothec cavity, which, by a ray of light that glanced throu^
some ciBnny above, he saw was laree and spacious. He saw also
that it led into another vault equally capacious j and haviu" made
thisdiscovery heretnrued for hisass.andbyremovmg the earth ahont
the hola, he soon made it large enough for Dapple to puss. Then
laying tú>ld of his halter, be led him along through the sevenl cavi-
ties, to try if he could not find a way out on the other side. Thus he
vent on, somatimcs in the dusk, sometiinea in the dark, but always
in feai and trembling. " Heavens defend me ! " said he, " what ft
chioken-bearted fcUow am I ! This now, wliicb to me b a sad mis-
]uip, to mj master Don Quixote would have been a olioice adventure.
These oaves and dungeons, belike, he would have taken for beautiful
gardens and stately palaces of Galiana, and would have reckoned
upon their ending in some pleasant; flowery meadow; while 1,
poor, helpless, heartless wrefeh that I am, espeta some other pit
■till deeper 1o open suddenly under my feet and swallow me up.
O welcome the ül-luel! that comes alone!" Thus he went ca,
lamenting aod despairing ; and when he had gone, as he supposed,
•omewhat more than half a league, he perceived a kind of glimmering
light, like that of day, breaking through some aperture above that
seemed to him an entrance to the other worla ; in which Bitoft-
tion Cid Hamete leaves him for awhile, and rctams to Don Quixote,
who. with great pleasure, looked fiarward to the dav appointed for the
combat, by which he boned to revenge the injury done to. the honoar
of Donna HodrigueE's daughter.

One morning as the kniglit was riding out t« exercise and prepare
himself for the approacliing conflict, now urging, now checking the
metüo of his deed, it happened that Roiinante, in one of his cur-
vettitigs, pitched his feet m near the brink of a deep cav^ tbat hod

A.OOgIC

not Don Qoüote nsed lúa reins vith all bia akill, he must ineritttlilr
have falleD into it. £nt, tmring escaped that dsogcr, be was curious
to examine the chasm, and as he was eamesllf surveying it, still
sitting OQ his boise, he thouplit be heard a noise issuing irom below,
like a human voice: and listening more atteutivelj, he distinctly
heard these words ; Ho! abore there! is there anf Christian that
heara mc, or any charitable geatlemaa to lake pit^ on a sinner buried
alive i a poor FOFemor without a government F" Don Qoizote
thought it was tie voice of Sancho Panza ; at which he was greatly
amazed, and, inising his voice as high an he could, he cried, Who
are vou below there! Who is it tEat complains ?" "WIh> abonid
be here, and^who complain," answered the voioe. " but the most
wretched ai ' " " ■ ■" j,^ governor, for his ains uid evil-
errantry, ol tana, and late sqnira to the famoui
kn^bt Den la."

On heari I's wonder and alarm increased : for

be_concúve< waa dead, and that hia soulwaa there

doing penal snaaion, he aaii " I conjure thee, aa

for as a Cal ,1» tell me who thou art ; and if

thon art a soul in pni^toi^, let me know what I can do for thee ;
for since my profesaion oblicpes me to aid and succour all that are
afflicted in this world. I snail also he ready to aid and assist the
distressed in the world below, where tbey cannot help themaelvea."
" Surely," answered the voice from below, "it ia my master, Don
(¿uiiote de la Mancha, who apeaka to me— by the aonnd of the voice
' D otherl" "Don (iuiiote I am," replied the knii^ht.

Panza, and art dead, ^ „_. ,

through God's mercy thon art KtUl in pnrgatory, out holy mother
the Roman Catholic church has power by her supplications to deliver
thcc from the pains which afflict thee ; and 1 will myself solicit bei in
thy behalf, as far as my estate and pur^e wil! go : speak, therefore,
and tell nje quickly who tbonart F" Why then, I vow to Heaven,"
said the voice, " and will awear by whatever your worship pleasea,
Signor Don Quixote de la Mancha, that I am your squnt Sancho
Panza, and that I never died in the whole courae of my life ; but
that, having left my government for reasons and csuaes that require
more leisure to be told. 1 fell last night into this cavern, where I
now am and Dapnlc with uie, who will not let me lie ; and, as a fur-
ther preof, here the good creature stands by me."

Now it would seem the asa understood what Sancho said, and
willing to add liis testimooy, at that instant bef[an to bray so lustily
that tbe whole cave resounded. " A credible witness I " mioth Don
Quixote ; " that bray I know as well as if I niyself bad brought it
forth; and thy voice, too, 1 knew, my dear Sancbo^wait a little, and
I wilt go to the duke's castle and bnng some people to get thee out
of this pit, into which thou hast certainly been cast for thy sina."
"Pray go, for tbe Lord's sake," quoth Sancho, " and return speedily ;
for I cannot bear any longer to be buried ahve, and am dying with
iear." Don Quixote left him, and hastened to the caatle to tell the
duke and duchess what had happened to Sancho Panza; at which
they were not a little surprised, tlKmgb they readily accounted for his

B8> DOK QUUCFtB.

beiiK there, and conceived tbat be mi^bt ea^y bare fallen donn fba

fit, which was well known, and bad been there time out of mind ; but
her could not imagine how he sbonld have left his gocemment
wilnoat their hanne been apprised of it. Ropes and pullies were,
however, ¡mmediatel; sent ; and, with mncb JAboor. and nany hands,
Dm>lds and hia master were drawn ont of that gloom; den, to the
welcoms light of the mm.

A certain scholar, who was present at Sancho's deliverance, eali,
"Thus should nil bad governors quit their sovernments; eren as this
sinner comes out of the dejith of this abps ; pale, hungry, and pen-
niless ! " " Harkye, brother," said Sancho, who bad overheard hiou
"it is now eight or ten days since I began to govern the ialam
tint was given to me, and in all that time I never had my beUyfut
but once. Doctors persecnted me, enemies trampled over me Mid
bruised my bones, but no leisure had I eithv to touch a bribe or
receive my dues ; and this being the fact, methinka I deserve not to
come out of it in this fashion. But, man proposes and God disposes;
and He knows what is best and fittest for everybody : and, as is the
reason, such is the season ; and, let nobody say. I will not diink of
this cup : fur where one expected to find a flih^, there m^ not be
even a pin to hai^ it on ! Heaven knows m; mind, and that is
enough, I oould say much, but I say nothing." "Be not angry,
Sancho, nor concerned at what may be said," quotb Don Quixote
" otherwise thou wilt never he at peace. Keep but a safe conscience
and let people say what they wiD ; for as well mayst thou think to
barri(»de the plain, as to tie up the tflngne of slander. If a fpiicmor
oomes ricli from his government, they say he has plundered it ; and.
if he leaves it poor, that he has occn a fooL" " I warrant," anawerea
Sancho, "that, for this boot, they will rather take me for a fool thu
a thief.''

In such disoonrse, amidst a rabblement of bovs and other followera,
tbe; arrived at the castle, where the dnke and duchess were already
in a gallery Vaiting for them. Sancho would not go up to see the
duke till he had firat taken the necessary care of Dapple in the stable,
because the poor creature, he said, had had but an indifferent nigkt'a
lodging ; and, that done, he went no to the duke and duchass, and
kneeling before them, he said, "My lord and lady, yoa madie me
governor of your island of Baratarla- and not from any desert of
mine, but because your grandeurs would have it so. Naked I entered
it, and naked have I left it. I neither win nor lose; whether I have

rivemcdwcU or ill, there are witnesses, who may say what tbev please,
have cleared up doubts, and pronounced sctitencea, and all tlie while
famished with hunger ; so far it was ordered by Pedro Itcaio, native
of Tirteafiiera, doctor in ordinary to the bland and its governor.
Enemies attacked us by night; and, though tbeyput us iu great
danacr, I heard many say that the íshnd was dcUvereil : and according
as they speak the truth, so help them Heaven. In short, I have by
this time been able to reckon up the cares and burthens the trade OÍ
goveruing brings with it, and find them, by my account, too heavy for
my shoulders or ribs to hear, — they are not arrows for mv quiver;
aod so, before the govemmeut left mc, I e'en resolved to leave the

fivemment ; and yesterday morning, tuming my bock on the island,
left it just as I found it, with the same sireefs, llic same houses,
with the selfsame roofs to them as they had when I Jirst entered it.

" A.OOgIC

sAHCEo'a JTWAL aSDkktiov, 537

I ti&ve neither borroived nor hoardei) ; snd though I intended to make
some wholesome laws, I made none, fearing tbej Tould not be
observed, which is the same as if thej were not nuide. 1 came av»,
as I said, from the island witbout ai^ company but mj Dapple. In
the dark, I feU headlong into a pit, and crept along imdeT gromid,
till this morning by the l^ht of the aun I discorered a way out,
though not so cosy a one but that if Heaxeu had not sent my master
Don Quixote, there 1 might have stayed till the end of the world.
So that, my lord dnke and my lady duchess, behold here your gover-
nor Sancho I'lmza, who in the ten days that he held his office, found
out by experience that he would not gire a single farthing to be
goremor, not of an island only, but even of the whole worlcC This
then being the case, kissing your honours' feet, and iniitutiny the boys
at nUy, who cry, leap and away,_I gi»e a tea^ont of the gDrenunent,
and pass over to the service ' ^ - . - ..

h with him I eat my

and, for my p '

! whetherit De

Hera Sancho ended hi „

while a thousand absurdities, t
gave thanks to Hearen in tus
and said that it grieved him tc
so soon ; but that he would ta
ployment in his territories, (
auchess was no less kind, and
care of; for he seemed to be n

CHAPTER LVIL

Of lJ¡4 prodigiam and unparalleled battli iitwem Don Qnúcolt ái tit
MaaeMa and Iht latquig Taiilci, tn di/ence of Ua duenna iMiniia
Badñgtixí áaugKUr.

The dnke and dnchesa repented not of the jest they had practised
n^n Sancho Panza, when toe steward, on his return, gave them a
minute rvlatiou of almost every word and action of tlie governor
during that time; and he failed not to enUrge upon the assault of
the island, with his terror and final abdication, which gave them not a
little entertainment. The history then tells us that the appointed
day of combat arrived; nor had the duke neglected to give liia
laó^oeyTosilos all the necessary instructions how ü> vanquish liia anta-
gonist, and yet neither kill nor wound him; for which purpose he gave
orders that the iron heads of their hinces should be taken off. because,
as he told Don Quixote, that Christianity upon which he valued him-
self forbade tlint in this battle their lives should 'or-- exposed to
dansfr ; and though contrary to the decree of the holy council, which
prohibí' s such encounters, he should allow them free neld-room iuhia
territories ; but he did noi. wish the affair pushed ti) the utmost ex-
tremity. Don Quixote begged his excellency would arrange all
A.OOgIC

tlaagi u lie deemed best ; auid usnred biin that he vonld acqniesca
in ererr psrticular.

On tne dreadfui daj, the doie baiiiiB; commanded & spsdcms scaf-
fold to be erected before the court of the castle for the judges of tbo
field, and the two dueniuis, mother and daughter, appeUant^ aa
infinite number of people, from sJl the neighbouring Iotds and tü-
lage^ flocked to see the novel spectacle, for, in Utter times, nothing
like it bad ever been seen or beaid of in that counti? either by the
living or the dead.

The first who entered the lists was the master of the oeremoníeau
who walked over the gronud, and examined it in ever; part, to guara
agunst fool play and see that there waa nothing on tne suriace to
occauon stnmbluig or falling. The dnennas now entered, and took
■eata, covered with veils even to their breasta, and betrajing much
emotion. Don Quiiote next presented himsell in the lists, ud soon
after the sound of trumpets announced ttie entrance of the great
Tosiloa, mounted on a stately steed, making the earth shake bene&tli
him : with vicor down, and stiffly cased within a suit of strong and
ahining armour. The horse seemed to be a Frieslonder, broad-buih,
and flea-bitten, with abuodanoe of hair upon each fetlock. Tbo
courageous Tosüos came well inatructed by flie duke his lord how to
behave towards the valorous Don Quiiote de la Mancha, and cautioned
in nowise to hurt him, and also to be careful to elnde his adversair
at the first onset, leat he should himself be alaic, which would w
inevitable, if he met him in fnll career. He traversed the endosnr^
and, advancing toward the duennas, he surveyed the lady who de-
manded him for her huaband. The morahal of the field, attended })j
Don Quiiote and Tosilos, now fonnoily demanded of the duennas
whether they consented that Don Qniiote de la Mancha shonki main-
tun their right. They answered, that they did, and that whatever
he should do in their behalf they sbonld confirm, and hold ^ be
ti^, firm, and valid.

The dote and duchess now took their seats, in a balcony over tbo
barriers, which were crowded by an infinite number of people, all ia
fail expectatioD of beholding this terrible and extraordinary conflirt.
It was stipuúted, between Don Quixote and Tosilos, that if the
fonner should conquer his adversary, the latter should be obliged to
marry Donna Eodriniei' daughter j and if he sbonld be overcome,
his aarcrsary should De release from his engagement with the lady,
and ever^ other clnim on her account. And now the master of the
ceremomes divided the sun equally between them, and fixed each at
his post. The drum* beat; the sound of trumpets filled the air,
earth shook beneath the steeds of the combatants ; the hearts of the
gazmg tnuiUtude palpitated, some with feai, some with hope, for the
issue oí this affair; finally Don Quixote, recommending himself to
Heaven, and to bb lady Dulcinea del Toboso, stood waiting the signal
for the onset. But our lacquev's thoughts were differently emplcye»^
for it so happened that, white no st<x>d looking at his female enem^,
she appeared to him the most beautiful woman he had ever seen m
his lire, and the little blind boy colled Cupid seized the opportunitr
of adding a lacquey's heart to the list of his trophies. Softly ana
nnperceived, therefore, be approached his victim, and, taking aim at
the left side cJ the devoted youlh, with an arrow two yards long hie
pierced his heart through and thiongh ; and this the aoioroas archei

IHB VASQUISH2D LICQUET. G9B

could do with perfect safety, for he is iimaible, and goes and comes
wliea and where he pleaaes, and to none ia he accoimtable. So that
when the sijpukl was jnvea for tho oaset, our lacquey stood trans-
ported, contcm plating- the beauty of her who was now tuc mistress of
tus libcrtf, oud thfreiare attended not to tlie trumpet's sound. It
was not so with Don Quiiote, who iostanUy spurrmg forward, ad-
Toooed tow»rda his eiiemy at Rozinaot^'s best speed ; while his trusty
squire Sancho cried aloud, "God guide you, cream and flower ÓT
knights'errant ! Heaven ^ve ;ou victot;, for the r^ht ia on your
aide!"
Though Tosilos saw Don Quixote making towards hiio, he stirred

. ¡led, and am ready to Biarry that gentlewoman this m.

The marshal was surprised at what Tosilos said, and, beiogprivj to
the contrivance, he was at a loss how to answer him. Bun Quixote,
parceiviuK that liis adversary was not advancing, stopped short in the
midst of his career. The duke could not conceive why the combat
was retarded: and, when the marshal eiiplained the cause, he was
angry at the diwppüintnient. In the mean time, however^, Tosilos
Approached Donna Rodriguez, and said aloud, "I am willmg, good
madam, to marry your daughter, and would not seek, by atnfe and
bloodshed, what i may have peaceably, and without dauger." "Since
that is the case," sud the valorous Don Quixote, "lam absolved
from my promise ; let them be married, in God'» name, and, at God
hMgiven ner, Saint Peter bless her."

The duke now came down into the court of the castle, and, going
np to Tosilos, he said, " la it tnie, knight, that you yield yourself
yantjuished, and tliat, instigated by your timorous conscience, you
intend to marry this damsel ■ " " Yes, an't please your grace," replied
Toailos. "Am, faith, 'tis tbe wisest course," quoth Sancho Pama,
" What you would give to the mouse give to the cat, and you will
save trouble," Tosilos was, ia the mean time, uolacing his heiniet,
to do which he be^d for prompt aaaiatancc, as his spirits and breath
were just failing him, unable to lEmain any longer pent up in so strait
a lodging. They presently unarmed him, and, the face of the lacquey
being exposed to view, Donna Rodriguex and her daughter cried
aloud, "A cheat ! a cheat ! TosQos, my lord duke's lacquey, is put
Upon UB instead of our true spouse ! Justice from Heaven and the
king against so much deceit, not to say viltany ! " " Afflict not your-
selves, ladiea," quoth Don Quixote, for this is neither deceit nor
villauy, or, if it be so, the duke is not to blame, but the wicked en-
chanters, my persecutors, who, envying me tlie glory I should have
aciiuLred by this conquest, have transformed the countenance of your
husband into tliat of another, who, you say, is a lacouey belonging to
my lord duke. Take my advice, and, in suite of the malice of my
enemies, marry him; for, without doubt, ne is tbe very man you
desire for your husband."

The duke, hearing this, angry as he was, could not forbear leughing.

the great Don Quixote tt

fi30 DOTS qUIXOTZ.

lacquer ; but, for oar better wtisfBctioD.and to detect the utifiee, let
X13, if f ou please, defer the nianiage for fifteen days, imd, in the mean
time, keep this doubtful ]^>uth in safo ciutodf - bv that lime, periiaps,
he may return to hia own proper form : for doubtless the malice of
those wicked magiciana against tile noble Don Quixote cannot last so
long : especially when the; find these tricks and trausformatiúus avail
theoi so little. "0, sir," quoth Sancho, the wicked wretchesare ior
ever at this woric, clianging from one shape to another whatever mj
master has to do with. It was but lately the^ turned a famous
knight he had beaten, called the Enígbt of the Murrors, into the ver;
shape of the bachelor Samson Carrasco, a fcliow-townaman aiid special
friend of ours ; aad more than that, tbey changed my ladv Dulcinea del
Toboso from a princess into a downright country bumpiin : so that I
verily believe this lacciuey here will live and die a lacquey all the da^
of his life," " Let him be who be will," said the duenna's dauglitér,
"as he demanda me to wife I take it kindly of him; fori had rather
be lawful nifc to a lacquey than the cast mistress of a gentlemai^
though indeed he who deluded me ¡a not one."

All these events, in short, ended in the imprisonment of TosQoa,
where it wan determined he should remain till it was seen in what hi»
Iransformation wonld end ; and althousb the victory was adjudged to
Don Quixote by general acclamation, the greater part of the s[»ecta-
toTS were disaopointed and out of humour that the long-expected
combatants had not hacked each other to pieces : as the rabble are
wont to repine when the criminal is pardoned whom they expected
to see hanged. The crowd now dispersed; the dnkeand Don Quixote
returned to the castle, after ordering the lacquey into close keeping;
Donna Rodriguez and her daughter were extremely well pleased to
see that, one way or other, this Dusiness was likely to end in matri-
mony ; and Tostlos was consoled with the like azpectation.

CHAPTER LTHI.

Which reliUi Aow Do» QmxoU tool hi
brftl him witi Uu riag and wa*tei
daniitli,

EvEH Don Quixote now thought it fuU time to quit so inactive a
life as that which he had ted in the castle, deeming himself culpable
in liviog thus in indolenoe, amidst the luxuries prepared for him, as a
kuight-crrant, by the duke and duchess ; and he believed he should
bavc to account to Heaven for this neglect of the dutiesof his profes-
sion. He therefore requested permisainn of their graces to depart,
which tbey granted him, but with eveir expression of regret. The
duchess gave Sancho Panza his wife's letters, which he wept over,
sayinif ' Who could have thought that all the mighty hopes which
my wife puffed herself up with on the news of my government should
come at fast to this, and that it should again be mv lot to follow my
master Don Quixote in search of liungrj- and toilsome adventures !
I am thankful, however, that my Teresa has behaved like herself in

A.OOgIC

ALTISIDORa'S A.DVBZ8S.

comfort is that the preseot could not be called a bribe, for they wets
not sent till I ma r goremoi ; and, indeed, it ¡a ¿ttins that all who
receive » benefit shonld shoT themselres gruiefol, thoogh it be 011I7
a trifle. Naked I went into the gomeramente and naked came I oat
of it : so I can say irith a clear conscience, which is no small matter,
naked I came into the world, ud naked 1 am; I neither win nor

^ Li this manner Sancho communed with himself while preparina for
his departure. That same evening Don Qiiixote took leave of the
duke and duchess, and earl; the neit moming he sallied forth, com-

pletelyan"^ -■-.- .1 - - ^i j-_.. _ii__-_. _i_i.:,i.

were cro^

Sancho was mounted npon Dapple, h^ waJIete well furnished, and
himself much plenaed; lor the duke's steward, who had played the
part of the Trilaldi, had giren him, unknown to Don Quiiote, a little

le with two hundred ci " ' ' ' ■ - '

journey. And now, w]
arch and witt; Altisidora, who waa with the daennas and damsels of
the duchess, come forward, and, m a doleful tooie, addressed herself to
him in the foUowing rhymes ;—

Staj, miel knight.

Take not tb; %Iit,
Kor «pur tby batter'djada ;

Thyhaatarmtniia,

Draw in the refai.
And bear a loTe-akik maid.

Why doitthouayJ

That poiaon thcoe I lore :

QeDtls I lua

Am any lamb.
And hannlsUM adora.

Thy omel ecom

Hu left fbrlora
A Dymph vboM channa may ile

With thwn wbc sport

In Cyntlda'a cnuii,
Tho' Venus' salf were by.
Sua*. puitiTe knight, to no purpoae I woo IhM^
^•^' bte itlU pursue and undo tliae I

Uke ravenous kite,

That takw Its fligl>t
Boon aa't hat atoi'n a chlcksD,

Thou liear'rt away

My heart, thy prey,
And leav'st me tie» to aukeu.

Throe nigit-oepa, too.

And garters blue,
líbítt did to logs boloDg

Smooth to the aight

Ai marble white.

. I, Google

CON qVIXOTB.

Two thousuid grooni.
As many moBnB,
And ttiffbB enough to fire
Old Priam'B town.
And bum it down.
Did iC unia anpire.
B, fugitiva ItDight, to no purpo» I woo the^
ibbof 1 late «tiU punue and undo ibee !
May Sanoho no'ar
Bii buttoclu boie
Fl^-flap, as ia his dui; ¡
And thou still mut
To d^wncbiuit
Duloinea'B injur'd baauty.
Hay still tnmstónu'd.
And still datonn'd, .
Toboso'a oymph remain.
In rooompaoBo
OtthyoOanoa,
Thr BOOTD and cold disdun.
Wlun thon dost wield
Tby sword in fleld.

May thy disffraoe

Fill BT'ry place,
Thy falsehood ne'er b« hid.

But round the world

Be toes'd and hurl'd,
From Sevilla to Madrid.

If. briak and gay,

Thou litt'at to play
At Ombre, or at Chess,

May ne'er BpadiÜ

Attend thy will,
Nor luck Ihy moraments bless.

Though thou with care

Thy ooroB dost para,
Hay blood the pan-knifa IbTlow ;

May thy guma mge.

And nought assuage
The pain ot tooth that'ahnUow.
Bbice, foritire fcnlght, to no piuposo I woo tbe«,
Barahbaa ■ &te stJU punue and undo thee !

WHst Altisidora thus poured fortli her tuneful oompluDU, Don
yaXioXe stood looking at her attentively, and when she hid done,
without making her any answer he turned to Sancho and said. By
the memory of tbj forefathers, dear Sancho, I conjure thee to uuver
me truly— W thon the nightcaps and garters which this love-sick
damsel speaks of F" "I confess to the three mghtiaps, sir, quoth
Sancho, '' but as to the garters, 1 know nothing about tbem

The dncheu was astonisbed at Aitisidora's lentj, for thongii ue

ÁSVBNTUIUEB IHCBXUB.

tnew her to he gay, easT, and free, yet she did not thint she wonld
venture so far ; and not being in the secret of this jest, her surprise
was the greater. "I think, air knight." said the aoke (meanincto
cany on the joke), "that it does not well beseem your worBhip, after
the nospitable entertainment yon have received in this castle, to ean7
off three nightcaps, at least, if not my damsel's garters ¡ these arc
indications of a disposition that Ü1 becomes your character, B^turn
her the gartera ; if not, I defy you to mortal combat, and fear not
that your knavish enchanters should change my face, as they have
donethat of mv lacquey." "HeaTen forbid," answered Don (Juiiote,
" that 1 should nnsneath my sword against yonr illustrious person,
from whom I have received so many favoore. The nightcaps sLall be
restored ; for Sancho says that he has them - but as for the garters, it
is impossible, for neither he nor I ever had Ihem ; if your damsel look
«ell to ber hiding-comers, I muke no question but she will find them.
L my lord duke, was never a pilferer, nor, if Heaven forsiake me not,
shall I ever become one. This damsel tails (as she owns) Hke one in
love, which is no fault of mine ; and, therefore, 1 have no reason to
ask pardon either of her or of your exoeltenc7, whom I entreat to think
better of me. and again desire your permission to depart,"

" Farewell, Signor Don Quisote, said the duchess, " and Heaven
tend you so prosperous a pnmey that we may always hear happy
tidinsts of yonr exploits. Go, and Heaven be with yon ; for the lon^

ÍOU slay, the more you stir up the fiomes that scorch the hearts of
hese tender damsels while tbe^ gaze oa you. As tor this warrton,
take mjf word. I will so deal with her that she shall not astun offend
either m worn or deed." " Hear me but one word more, O valoroua
I>on Quiiote!" qnoth áltisidora; "pardon me for having charged
you with stealing my garters, for, on my soul and conacience, tlicy are
on my legs ! ana I have blundered like the man who looked about for
the ass he was riding." "Did I not tell jou," quoth Sancho, "that I
am a rare hider of stolen goods f Had I been that wa^ givcn^y
BOvemment would have offered many a fair opportunity." Don
Quixote made his obeisance to the duke and duchess, and to all the
spectaton : then, taming Rozinaute's head, he sallied out at the castle
pite, and, followed by Sancho npon Dapple, took the road leading to

CHAPTER LII.

intry, unrea^ained and fr^
uuiu uio u.uuu»w,»v .u...„»^ „. ^w^Jora, Don Qnixote felt aU hu
eÜvahic ardour revive within him, and turning to nia sqvúe, he Mid,
" Liberty, friend Sancho, is one of the chdoeat gifts that Heaven hrth
bestowed upon man, and exceeds in value ail the treasures which the
earth contams within its biBom, or the sea covers JUbertTj as well
u honour, man ought to preserve at the hazard of his life ; for with-
,, .A.OOgIC

fiSft no» qnixoiE.

out it life is insnpportable. Thou kuoirest, Suioho, llie loiurr and
abundaoce we enjoyed in the hospitable manaioa tre have jiut lefl ¡

fet, Bmidst those seasoned banqoetd, those cool and delidooa liquors,
felt as if I had suffered the extcemltf of hunger and thirst<, became
I did not enjoj them with the same freedom as if they bad been my
own. The mmd is oppressed and euthraUed bf faToura and beoefita
to which it can malee no retiim. Eapp; the man to whom Heaven
hath given a morsel of bread without hsiag hint under an obligation
to any but Heaven itself!" "for all that," qouth Sancho, "wo
ought to feel ourselves much bonnd to the duke's steward for toe two
hundred crowns in gold which he gave me in a purse I carry here,
next my heart, aa a cordial and comfort ia case of need ; for we an
not likely to find many castles where we ihall be mad« BO moch of,
but more likely inns, where we shall be rib-roasted."

1^118 disoonisiug, the kuisht and squtre-enant proceeded on their
■ny, when having travelled a little more than naif a leagoe, they
(teecved a dosen men, who looked like peasants, seated on a littla
patch of green near the road, with their cloaks spread under them,
eating their dinner on the srasa. Cloie to where they sat werespreaa
smidiV pieces of white cloth, like sheets, separate &om each otbo*.
and wnich seemed to be cover? to somethmg on the ground beneath
them. Don Quixote approached the eating party, and, after oovrte-
onsly talating them, asked what they had under those sheeta?
" They are fi^urefl carved in wood, sir," add one of them, " intended
for an iJtar-pieee we are erecting in onr village, and we can? tbem
oDvend that Üxj may not be soiled or broken." " With tout per-
mission," said Don Quixote, "I should be glad tn see uiem: for
things of thet kind, carried with so much care, mnat doubtlcaa be
Rood." "Ay, iiuieed. are they, sir," answered one of the mea, " as
their price will testify; for, in truth, there is not one of tbem but
(tands us in above fifty duoats ; and of the truth of what I sa/ jour
worship shall presently be satisned. Then rising up and leaving hia
repast, he took off the covering bom the first ngnrcv which was gilt,
ana appeared to be St. George on horseback, piercong with his laioee
a serpent coiled at the feet of hia horse, and representad with itananal
fierceness. "That figure," said Son Quixote, "represents one c¿ the
greatest kni^ta-errant that ever served the bolr cause. He was,
besides, the champion of the fiur, and was called Don St. Georga.
Now 1^ us see what is beneath that other cloth."

On being uiiooTered, it appeared to be St. Hartin, mounted om
horseback also, and in the act of dividing his cloak with the beggar.
"St. Martin! exclaimed Don Quiiote, "he also was one (Hlhe
Christian adventurers : a knight, I believ^ more liberal than valiant,
as thou mavst perceive, Sancho, by his giving half his cloak t« thxt
wretch [ ana doubtless it was then winter, otherwise he would have
given the whole : so great was his charity." " That was not Üw
reason," qnoth Sancho ; " but he had a mmd to follow the proverb,
Ibat says, ' What to giv^ and what to keep, Te<iaires a hrád-]üece
wide and deep,' " Ucu Quixote smiled, and deured to see another
of their figuras. The palron of Spain was now preMnted to him,
mounted on a fierce charger: he appeared grasping a bloody swonL
and trampling on the bodies of sianghtered Moors. ' Ther^"
said Don Quixote, "was a knight indeed! one cÁ Chiisfs own
•qnadron. He was called Don St. Diegc^ the Uoor-killor^ one of the

,, .A.OOgIC

THE K^GRt'S DaCDVBn ON OHEKS.

as at the moment of Lis coaversion, irheii ttirown ^m his horse,
and with otlier attending circumstances. Seeing that event repre-
sented with, so much aniraation that St. Paul appeared to be actually
answering the voioe from heaven, Don Quixote said, " This hoir
personase was at one time the Kreat«st encm; to the church o(
tiod, and af terw^tta the greatest uefeoder it will ever have ; a knighU
errant in his life, aad an unshaken mai;t7r st his death ; an un-
wearied labourer in Christ's vinejard ; an instructor of the Gentiles :
hesTen was his school, and bis great t«acber and master our Lord
bimself!" Don Quixote now desired tlie fl^nres mizlit be again
covered, having seen all. "I regard the sight of these things,"
said he, " as a farouiable omen ; for these samts and knights pro-
fessed what I profess, with this only difference, that, being saints,
they fonght after a heavenly manner, whereas I, a ainner, dght in tbs
way of this warid. Bj the exercise of am» they gained heaven— for
heaven must be won by exertion, snd I cannot yet tell what will be
the event of my labours j but coold my Biilemea dei Toboso be
relieved from her sutfenii^, my condition being in that case im-
proved, and my understanding wisely directed, I might, perliaps,
lake a better course than I now do." " Heaven hear him," quoth
Sancho, " and let sin be deaf ! " The men wondered no leas at the
figure than at the words of Don Quixote, without Tinderstanding half
What he meant by them. They Snished their repast, packed up their
images, and, taking their leave of Dun Quixote, pursued their jonmey.
Sancho was more than ever astouiaheii at his master's knowledeCL
and fnlly convinced 1hat tliere was no history nor event in the WorJd
which he had not at his fingers' ends and noile^d OD his memory.

" Trnly, master of mine," quoth Suioho, "if what boa happened to
US t(Hlay may be called an adventur^ it has been one of the sweetest
and moat pleasant that has ever befallen us in the whole oourae of onr
rambles; foith, we are clear of it without either blows or bodily fearl
We have neither laid our hands to our weuions, nor beaten the earth
with our bodies ; neither are we famished ior want of food ! Heaven
be praised that 1 have seen all this with my own eyw!" "Thon
sayest well, Sancho," qooth Don Qnixote, but I must M thee
that times are wont to vary and change their ooncae ; and what ore
commonly accoimted omens by the vulnur, thon^ not within the
Boope of reason, the wise wil^ nevertheltas, regard as incidents of
lucky aspect. Yonr watcher of omens rises betimes, and, going abroad,
meets alTranciscan friar, whereupon be hurries back again as if a
fiuioua dragon had croúed his way. Another happens to spill the
salt upon the table, and straightway his soul is overcast with the
di«Hl of coming evil : as if nataie bad willed that such trivial
Modenta shoold give notice of e&sning luiscbaiioes ¡ The wise man
and good Christiaii will not, however, pry too coriooslv into the
counsels of heaven. Scipio, on arriving in Africa, stumbled as he
levied on shore ; has aokuers took it for an ill omen, but he, embrae-
ing the ground, said, 'Afrtoa, tboo canst not escape me—I have
thee fast.' For my own part, Sancho. I cannot but consider sa a
favourable prognostic onr meeting those holy sculptures." " I
ntiit believe A," answered Sanche^ " and I ahoold be glad if your
A.OOgIC

SS6 «n quixoTX.

worahip «oaU ttill me vhj the Spaniards, vben titej nish into bottie
cali npou that saint Diego, the Moor>kil)er, and 07, ' Saint l^m, ud
ck)M, Spain !' Is Spain, then, so open as to vaut dosing? what do
yon make of that ceremony P " Banoho, thon art terr shalkjw ia
tíiese matters," said Don Quijote; " thou must know tAat Ueavoi
gt,ye the mlg-btf champion of the red cross to Spain, to be its patron
and protector, especially in iU despente conmot* with the Moor* :
■nd trierefore it is Ihef invoke him in all their battles ; and oft, at
such times, has be been seen oTerthn>wing,tramt)li&gdeira,deftn>ni>B>
«nd slaughtering tbe infidel siinadroDa : of which 1 could tecomt to
thee many exunples recorded in the true bistoriea of our ooantir."

" I am amazed, sir," said Sancho, snddenl; dianging the sanioot,
" at the impndence of Altisidora^ Uie dudiess's waiting-wnman. I
Tarrant yon that same mischtef-maker they call Love must bare
mauled and mangled her fnll soiei;. Thev ss^ be is a boy, ^ort-
sighted, or rather, blind ; jet set a heart beioni him, and, te sue as
death, ue'll whip an arrow through it. 1 hare beaid aay, too^ that
tiie veaptns he makes use of, though sharp, are btnnlcd aiid turned
•mde hj the aimoar of modest; and maidenl}' coyness ; but with that
•ame AUisidon metbinks thev are rather whetted than blunted."
"Lookfoo. Sancho," quoüi Don Quixote, "Lote has no respect of
{)eTwns,aitl laughs at the admonitions of reason; likeDeath, Bepnr-
■neshis game both in the stately palaces of kings and tbe hnmblenols
"'"'""'" '' '"hen he bss got a soul fairly into bb 0' ------ '^-

__ . n derive it of all shame and fear; a .
remarked in Altisidora, who, being witbout either, made an open
deolaration of ber desires, wbicb prodnced in my breast embanaat-
ment instead of compassion."

" Shocking craelty ! Honstroosingiatitade!" cried Smh^o. "I
can Bay, for myself, that the least kmd word from her would have
■nbdued me, and mode me her slave. O whoreson I what a heart
of marble, what bowels of brass, and what a sonl of plaister I Bnt
I wonder much what the damsd saw in vonr worship that ao took
' " ■' ' atry, the gaiety, and the

, , __. ,, __,j „ .-, made her fsfl in lore

with you ? for, in plam trñtb, if I look at your warship from the tip
of your toe to the top of yonr head. 1 see more to be frightened at
than to lore. Beauty, they say, is the chief thing in lote matten ;
but, your wonhip having none, I cannot guess what tbe poor thing
was so taken witn." " Hearken to dm, Smicho," said Don Quixote ;
" there are two kinds of beanty, tbe cue of tbe mind, tbe otbñ trf the
body. That of the mind shines forth in good sense and good oondnot ;
in modesty, lilierality, and ooortesy ; end all theoe quaLtiea may
be found m one who has no personal attractions ; and when that
apeoiee of beautr captivates, it produces a vehement and superior
passion. I well know, Sancho, that 1 am not bandoome ; but 1 Iuhiw
also that I am not deformed ; and a man of worth, if be be not
hideous, may inspire love, provided he has thoae qoaUtiea of the miad
which I have mentioned."

While iJie knight and sqnire were conversing in this manner, ܻey
entered a wood that was near the rood side, but uad not penetrated fú
when DonQuiiotefbundhimself entangled among some nets of green
threadwhicn were eitended from tree to tree; and, sorprised at the
incident, he aaid. " These nets, Sancho, surely promise scone new and

THE TWO EOraiT SaiTHSSDEUEa. 637

txtnordüurjadrtntnre — nujldietliiatnoment if it be not some neir
device citbeenchanten.niJ'eiieiDieR, to stop my «a;, out of revenge,
for Winft xlighied tbc wanton Áltisidora ', hik I would have them
know that, if these neto were chains of adamant, or stronger than that
in which the jealons god of hiackaniitha entangled Mars and Venus,
to me tbar would be neta of niBhes and ;am!" Just aa be was
about to breat throu|;h the frail enclosure, two lore!; shepherdessee,
issuing from the covert, saddenlv presented themselves before bim ;
at least their dreai resembled that of shepherdt'sses, eioeptini that
it was of fine brocade, and rich gold tabby. Their haij, Bright as
sunbeams, flowed over their shoniders : and chaplets composed of
lanrd and interwoven with the pnrple amaiantb, adonied their
heads ; and they appeared lo be maa fifteen to eighteen years of

admite. " Hold I sii^ior cavalier," said one of them, " pray do not
break the nets we have placed here, not to offend you, biit to divert
OQtselree ; and as yon may wish to know why we spread them, sad
who we eñ, I wilL in a few words, tell you. About two legues off,
sir, there ts a village «here many persons of qnalitj ana wealth
lesid^ several of whom lately made up a company, of friends, neigh-
boara, and relations, to oome and take their diversion at this place,
which is accounted the moat delightful in these parts. Here we liave
formed among onrselves a new Arcadia ; the young men have put on
the dress of shepherds, and the maidens that of sbcpherdesses. We
have Icamt by neart two eclogues, <hk by our admired OaroOaso,
and the other by the ezccllent Camoens, in his own fortuguese
tongne; wht^ however, we have not yet recited, as it was only yes-
tcvcuy that we came hither. Our tents are pitched among the trees,
neat the aide of a beautiful stream. last nitfit we B])reaa these nets
tocatdi such simi^ bicds as our calls could allure into the snare:
and DOW, air, if you please to be oui guest, you shall be entertained
liberally and courteonsly ; for we dlow neither care nor sorrow to be

" Truly, fair lady," answered Don Quixote, " Aeteon was not
more lost in admiriiticai and surprise when unawares he saw Diana
'"''"'ag, than I am in beholding your beauty. I approve and admire
._.:.... ._j _.. . _ .1.. 1 . 1- J, jjijj invitation, and, if I

of being obeyed; for Dy my profession I am enjomed to be grateful
■od useful to all, but espedail; to persons of your condition : and
were these nets, which probably cover but a small space, extended
over the whole sut&kw of the earth, I would seek new worlds, by
which I might pass, rather' than injure them. And, that you maj
nBord some credit to a declaration which may seem extravannt,
know, ladies, that he wbo makes it is no other than Don Quixote de la
Mancha— if, perchance, that name has ever reached your ears."

"Bless me!" exclaimed the other shepherdess, addressing her
companion, " what good fortune, my dear friend, has befallen us !
See yon this gentleman here before us P Believe me, he is the most
valiant, the moat enamonred, and the moat courteous knigiit in the
whole world, if the histon of his exploits, which is in print, does not
deodve na. I have read it, my áeai, Üuoogh and tnrou^ ; and I

588 von Qsixon.

Till lay a wager that tlie good man vbo attendg him is thatTen
Sancho Fanzft, his squire, «hoee pleasantries none can equaL
" I'faith, madam, it is very trae," qnMh Sancho, " I am, indeed, that
«une jocular persoiy and squire, and this gentleman is my miMer, Üio
vei7 Don Quiiote de la Mancha you have resd oí in print" " Prny.
my dear," said the other, " let us entreat him to stay, for onr fatlxñ
and brothers will be infinitely pleased to hare him here. I also bsv«
heaid what you say of his TsJour and gieat merit, «ad, above all, tfaat
he is Uie most true and constant of ktvers, and that his nüstress, wba
is called Dulcinea del Toboso, b«ars awa; the palm from all the beantiea
in Spaia" " And with p-eat justice," qnout Don Quixote, " «rdeBS
vosr wondrous charms should malee it qoestion^le. But do not £
beseech Tou, ladies, endeavour todetam me: for the indispensfuil»
duties of my profeasinn allow me no intermission of labour."

At this moment a brother of one of the fair damsels came up to
them, dressed as a shepherd, and with the same richnass and «uety.
They instantly told liim that the persons he saw were the vaiorona
Don Quixote de la Mancha and his sqaire Sancho Panza, whian he
also knew by their history. The gay shepherd saluted tha knight,
and ao urgently importuned him to noaour their party with his pro-
■ence, thtt, unable to refuse^ he at length accepted tneir invitatKO.
Just at that time the neta were drawn, and a great number of small birdL
deceived by their artifices, were takn. The g^lant paity aaaemUea
on that aoeaaioQ,being not leas than thirty in nomber, all in pastoral

haWe, teoeavedDoBOBizate ami his sqmte in a manner ven mneh
to their satisfaction : for none were strangers to the knight'a hinary.
They all now remiied together to the tents, iriiere tbev finnd Sba
table spread with elegance and plenty. The place of nononr was
given to Don Quixote, and all gated on him with admiration.

When the doth was removed, the knight, with much gravity, and
in an audible voioe, thus addressed the company : " Of all the mm
that men commit, though tome say pride, in my opinion, ingiatitiida
ia the worst ; it is truly said that hell is lull of the nngrstsful. From
that fonl crime I have endeavoured to abstain ever since I enjoyed
the use of reason ; and if I cannot return the good offices done ne
by equal benefits, I substitute my desire to repay them ; and if thia
be Dot enoogh, I publish them : for he who procuima the &vonrs h«
has receivei^ would return them if he could : and genarBllythepowv
of tbe receiver ia unequal to that of the giver : like the botrnty f^
Heaven, to which no mail can make an equal tetum. But, tíuñidi
utterly unable to repay the onspeakahle boieflcence of Qod, gratitnoe
affords a bumble compensation suited to our limited powers. This, I
fear, is my present situation ; and, my ability not reachii^ the mea-
sure of your kindness, I can only show my gratitude by doing that
little which is in my power. I tlierefore engage to maintain, fgr two
wbcJe days in the middle of the king's highway, leading to Sar^roasiL
that these lady-ahephardeasea in disguise are the most beantiftd and
the most courteous damsels in the world -. exoepting oolv the peerkaa
Dulcinea del Toboso, the aole mistress of my thougbts— without
offence to anv present be it spoken."

Here San^o, who had been listeoiiw to him with great attention.

could no kmser bridle his tongue. " Is it possible," crud be, " that

any one should have the boldness to say and swear that this mast

of mine is a nuwiffi^ f Tell me, gentlemen shepherd^ ia then a i

, , . .A.OOgK

THB raiOBT ■ViXqmgBXD HI THE BTTLLS. 689

loM pnest living, thoneji ever so wise, or erer so good a schotar,
irho could speak as he has spoken P Or is there n knieht-enrant,
though erer so renowned tor vslonr, who could make sacii m offer
as he has done F" Don Quixote tumed to Sancho, and, idth a wrath-
ful counteimnce, said : " la it possible, O Sancho, that there should
be a sinsle person on the globe who would not eaj that all over thou
art an idiOC, lined with the same, and bordered with X know not what
of mischief and knaverj ? "Who gave thee authority to meddle with
what belongs to me, or to busy thyself wilii my folly or my discre-
tion ! Be silent, brute : make oo reply, but go and saddle Rozinante,
if he be nnasddied, and let us depart, that I may perfonn what I have
engaged : for, relying on the joatiEe of my canse, 1 consider all those
who shall nraanme to dispute the point with me aa already »an-
(jnished." Then in great haste, and with marks of fuiioua indisnatian
m his countenance, he arose from bis seat and rushed forth, leanng
the company in amazement, and doubtinl whether to regard hiin as
a lunatic or a man of sense.

They nevertheless endeavoured to disanade him from his challenge,
telling him that they were enfficiently aaaured of bis ffrateful nature
as well as his valour, by the true histoiy of hia exploits. Resolute,
however, in his purpose, the knight was not to be moved ; and, being
now mounted upon Rozinsnte, bracing his shield, and graspmR his
lance, he planted himself in the middle of the highway, not far mm
■' ' ^ ■ ■ - • '" ed opon his Dapple, with aU the
s t« see the event of so arrogant

Don Quixote, being thus posted, he made the Mr resound with rach
words as these : " 0 je passengers, whoever ye are, knights, squire»,
travellers on foot and on horseback, who now pass this way, or shall

pass, in the course of these two successive days I know that Don
Quixote de la Mancha, knigbt^rrant is posted here, ready to main-
tain that the nymphs who inhabit tnese meadows and groves eieel
in beauty and court^ all the rest of the world, eieeptmg only the
mistress of mv soul, Dulcinea del Toboso ! Let him, therefore, who
dares to uphold the oontrary, forthwith show himself, for here X stnnd
ready to receive him."

Twice he repeated the same words, and twice thev were repeated

in vain. Bnt better fortune soon followed, for it so happened that a

number of horsemen ^ipeared, several of them armed with lances,

hastily advancing in a body. Those who had accompanied Don

Qoiiote no sooner saw them than they retired to a distance, thinking

■emain. Don Quiiote aione, with an

I Sancho Panza sheltered himself dose

When the tro

lud to Don C^ , _—

licse bulls win trample vou to dust."
Ote, " I fear not your bulle, though they
lowed on the banks of Xarama. Coa-
nnseen, that what I here proclaimed is
. battle."

to an«wer, nor Don Quixote to get out
ling: and now a lierd of fierce bulls,
, hurried past with a multitnde of herds-
to a neighbouritig tcnni iriierB th^ were
,, ..A.OOgIC

._! left sprawling on tbe CToimd. After the whole had passed,
here lay Sanclio mauled, there Don Quiiote stnnned, Dappie bruised,
«nd Rorinaute in no enviable plight ! Nevertheless, they dl coatriTea
to recover the use of their legs, and the knight, in great haste, stum-
bling and reeling, be^ to pursue the herd, cnnr.g alnnd. Hold!
Btop ! scoundrels ! n single knight defies ye all, who scorns the oowaid
maiim, 'Mate a bridge of silver (or a ^ing enemy.' " But the dro-
vers had no time to attend to him, and made no mora account of his
threats than of last year's donds. Fatigue obliged Don Quixote to
desist from tbe pursuit ; and, more enraged than revenged, he sat
down in the roai to wait for Sancho, Hozinante, and Dapple. *"*-
tbeircomingnpj the knight and sqnire mounted again, and, with

itisfaction, pnrsaed their jonmey, without taking leave
' ' Arcadia.

of the shepherds of

CHAPTER LI.

Wiertin it rtledid an tximotdinary ateidtnt vh'th tffd Den Qtiinle,
and whñA «oy pau/or a» adeentHrt.

Don QrmoTC and Sancho removed, by immersion in the waters of
a clear fountain, «hidi they found in a cool and shady grove, the
lirt^e. tbe dust, and other effects caused bv the rude encounter of
the bulls. Here the way-worn pair seated themselves ; and after
giving liberty to Hozinante and I>apple, Sancho had recourse to the
«tore of his wallet, and speedQy drew out what he was wont to call
bis sanee. He ríiüed his month, and Don Quixote washed his face,
by which they were in some degree refreshed i bnt the knight, &om
pure chagrin, refused to eat, and Sancho abstained from pure good
ntannera; thongh waiting and wishing for his master to begin. At
length, seeing his master so wrapped in thought as to foi^t to «mrer
A morsel to his mouth, be opened bis own, and, banishing all kind
of ceremony, made a fierce attack npon tbe bread and cheese before

"£at[ftiend Sancho," said DonQoisote, "and support life, which
to thee IS of more importance than t« m^ and leave me to eipire
tinder mj reflections, and the severity of my misfortunes. I.
Sancho, was bom to live dying, and thon to die eating; and
thoa mlt allow that I speak truth when thon considerest that I,
who am recorded in history, renowned in arms, courteoua in deeds,
respected byjprinceg, and courted by damsel^ should, after all, instead
of psalms, úiumphs, and crowns, earned and merited by my valorous
exploits, have tbis momin^seen myself trod uponj kicked, and bruised
under the feet of filthy and impure beasts !— the tbought thereof dulls
the edge of my teeth, unhinges my jaws, sickens my appetite, and
benumbs my hands, ao that 1 am now awaiting death in ita cruellest
form— hunger."

"If so," quoth San^ (still eating as be spoke), "your worship

A.OOgIC

THE KmSET XBJUVZS AT AH IK1T, 5U

does oot sppitne the proverb, vhidi taja, 'Let Mirtlia die, so Uiat
^e die veil Ted.' Tor m; part, I hare no mind to kill mrself ; but
rather, like the alioemaker, wbo «ith. hia teeth stretclke» nia leathei
to make it fit for Ha purpoae, I will bj eaiing trj all I can to stretch
out my life, till it reaches &a lar as it maf pleaae Hearen : and let me
tell you, air, that there ¡a oo greater foil; tnan to give war to despair.
Believe what I say, and when f on hare eaten, try to sleep a uttle
upon this green mattress, and I warrant on waking yon will nnd your-
sdi aoothet man."

Don Quixote fuEowed Sancho'a adriee, thinking he reasoned more
like a phibsopher than a fool: at the same time, he said: "Ah,
Sancho, if thou iroiildit do for me what I am going to propose, m j
sorrow would be diminished, and my relief more certain ; it is onlj
this : whilst I endearour by th; advice to compose myself to sleep,
do thou step aside a little, and exposing thy hinder parts to the open
air, give thyself, with toe reins of Hoiinante's bridle, some three
or fonr hundred smart lashes, in part of the three thousand and odd
vhioh thou art bound to give thyself for the diaenchantmeot of Dul-
cinea; for, in truth, it ¡a a great pity the poor ladj ahould continue
under enohantaient through thy carelessnesa and neglect."

"There is a great deal tobe said as to that," quoth Sancho ¡ "bat
for the present let na both sleep, and afterwaitis Heaven kuo\rs what
mar happen. Besides, I would have you remember, sir, that this
lashing one's self in cold blood is no easT matter : e3i>ecially when the
strokes light upon a hod)' so tender without, and so ill-atored within,
as mine ia. Let my lady Dulcinea have a little patience, and mayhq>,
when she least thinks of it, she shall see my body a peifeot sieve 07
dint of lashing. Until death all is life ; I sm still alive, and with %
full intention to make good mj promise." Don Quixote thanked
him, ate a little, and Sancho much ; and both of them kid themaelves
down to sleep, leaving Rozinante and D^ple, those msepuable cooi-
paniona and friends, at their own discretion, eitlier to repose or feed
upon the tender grass, of which they here had abundance.

They awoke somewnat late in the day, mounted again, and punued
their journey ; hastening to reach what aeemed to be an inn, about »
league before them. ¿1 inn it ia here called, because Don Quixote
himself gave it that name ; not happening, as usual, to mistake it for
a castle. Having arrived there, they inquired of the host if he could
provide them with lodging and he promised as good accommudation
and entertainment as could be found in Saiacossa. On alighting.
Sancho's fiiat care was to deposit his travoUins larder in a chamber of
which the landlord gave him the key. He then led Rozinante and
X)appte to the atable, and, after acelng them well provided for, he
went to receive the further commanda of his master, whom be found
img bimself that the knight

3 retired to Lis apartment,
ey could have to eat. The
JB suited— for whatever the
sasts, or fisb, that inn was
10 need of all that," quoth
a, and we shall be satisfied;
id 1 am no glutton." "As
we have none, for the kites

A.OOgIC

"ontjsoe tL . _, _,

host; "fiith and troth, 1 sent above fifty reaterda? to the o^; tc ..
sold; but, excepting pullets, aak for whatever you TnJL" "Why
then," quoth Smoho, " e'en «jte ob a ^ood joint of yal or kid, for
ttey cannot be iranttiig," "Veai or fid?" replied the host, "ah,
■0W 1 remember we have none in the hoose at present, for it is afl
eaten ; bat next week there will be enough, and to apaie. " We ate
much the better for that," answered Sanoho; "but I dare say a8
these dedoieMies will be made up with plenty (A eggs and bamn."
"'7ore UcaveiL" asswend the liost, my «utomer is a choice
puaser! Itdd him I had neitJier pullets nor hens, and heespeott
me to have egfs ; talk of other delinuaes, hnt ask no more for hens'

"Body of me !" quoth Sancho, "let na come to something — tdl
me, in uiort, what yon have, aa«ter host, and let us hare done with
yooi fionrishea." Then," quoth the innkeeper, "what I really and
tmly have is a pur of cow-heela, that may be taken for calves' feet j
or a pair of calves' feet, that are like cow-heels. They are stowed
with peas, onions, and baom, and at this vet^ miuate are crying out,
'Come eat me, eome eat me,'" "From this moment, I mark them
for my own," quoth Sancho J "sadlet nobodylay Sngeroo them. I
will pay you well, for there is nothine like them — give me but cow-
keeLandloare not a fig for calves' Teet." "They aie yours," nid
the hint, " nobody ahall t«mch them ; for my other K^ate. merdy for
»entility sake, brmg thmr cook, their sewer, and provuions ahmg with
tnem." " Aa to tM matter of gentility," qnotii Sancho, " nobody a
BOie a Mstleman than my master ; bnt his c^ng allows of no cook-
ing nor batlerin; as we travel. No, futh : we clap us down in the midst
of a green field, wid fill our bellies with aoonis, or medlars." Bach
wae the converaation Sanoho held with the innkeeper, and he now chose
to break it off, without answering the inquiries whKJi the host made
respecting his master's calling.

Supper being prepared, ana I>on Qnixote in his ehamber, the host
tarried in his dish of oow-heel, and, without ceremony, sat himself

down to supper. The adjoining r — '^"- ■■' '" "^""

occupied by Don Qmxole wily by a 1

hear the voices of persons wiudo. " Dos Jerónimo," i

Ding room bein^ s^>araléd fixnn that
rby athinpartifami,Iie oould distinctly
nudo. " Dos Jerónimo," smd (me a
DCr is brooj^t in, to let us have anoC

__.... , Uandia." 3iie kni^t bearing him

named, sot op, and, listening attattively, he heud another pei
answer, Why, Signer Dm John, would yon have us read s
absurdities F Whoever has read the first put of the history of ]

beanng himself
:raoa

___ , ._ Dob

Quixote de 1b Mancha cannot be pleased with llie second." " But for
aU that," said Don John, " let na read it ^ for there is no book so bad
as not to have somethinic good in it. M'hat displeases me the most in
this second part is, that the author describes Don Quixote as nolonga
enamoured of Dulcinea del Toboso."

On hearing this^ Don Quixote, full of wratb and indignation, raised
his voice, and said, "Wcoever shall say that Don Quixote de la
Mancha nas forgotten, or ever am for(»et, Dulcinea del Toboso.
I will make him know, with eaual mhis, that he asserts what is not
true; for neither can the peerless Dulcinea be forgotten, nor Don
Quixote ever cease to remembiT her. His motto is Constancy : and
to maintain it hii pleasure and his dnty." " Who is it that speaks to

them throning hU wms about Don Quixote's neck, nid, "¥oar
person bcUea not your name, nor can jour name do oUierwisQ thui
give oredit to your person. I CMinot donbt, sipior, of jaar bein^ tbe
Bxie Don Quixote de la Mancha, the north túdmomiiiK-etar of knqdtl-
errsmtiy, ia despite of him who «onld usurp toot name, and Mmihimtft
vour Gxploita. oa the anthorof thia book has Tunlr attonpted." Don
Quiiot^ without making tear ttnij, took np the book; and, after

uxcEO «sn (St cow-REEi. 648

naF" replied one in the other room. "Who should it be," qnoth
Baueho, but Dod Quixote de la Mancha hünielf f — who will make
good all he says and all he shall b^ ; for a good paymaster is in no

want of a pawn."
At these words two gentlemen rushed into the room, and one of
■ '■ ms aboo' ^ " ■ • ' ■' ""

Ú ,

_ , ^ ]i revlf, took np ti _ .,

turning over some of the leares, he laid it down a^nin, s^ing', " lit
the little I have seen of this Tolume, three things 1 have noticH for
which the anthor deservee reprehension. The first is some expres-
úons in the preface : the next that his language is ATTBgomBD, for
he sometimes omits the articles ; and tlie third is a much more senoua
objectioa, inasi ' irt his ^oorance and disregard of truth

in a material ] toir : for he aaya that the wife of mj

squire Sancho I Mar; Gutierrez, whereas her name is

Teresa Fanza ; n in a oircaniatanco of such importanoe

Btav well be su ^uracr in the rest of the historr."

Here Sanchi ■d : "^Pretty work, indeed, of that same

hlshB7-maker I rsmnehof our oonoens to call m][ wife.

Teresa Fama, ec! Pray, your wcsrship, look into it

wain, and see ihere, and if my nane be changed too."

"By what you oth Don Jeromma " I ptesnine yon are

Sancho Pama, _,. .. . jnor Don Quixote?" "That I am,"
replied Sancho, " and value myself upon it." " In &úth, then," said
the gKitleman, " this last author tre^ yon but scurrily, and not as
yon seem to deserve. He describee you as a dull fool, and a glutton,
without pleaaantry— in short, quite a diSerent Sancho from him trpt^
eentod in the first part of fonr maater'a historv." "Heaven fomva
hun!" quothSanohOi " he might aa well hare left me alone ; fbr He
who knows the instrument should play on iV and ' Saint Peter is wdl
atÜome.'" The two gentlemen entreated Don Quixote to n> to their
chamber and snp with them, as they well knew the inn had nothiag
fit for bis entertainment. Don Quixote, who was idwurs coarteon^
consented to their request, and Sancho remained with (he fltah-pot^
cadi mero mixto imptrio :* idadng himself at the head of Uie tai^
with the innkeeper for his meeraiate, whoae k>ve for oow-heel wae
equal to that of toe squire.

While they were at supper, Don John asked Don Quixote when he
had heard from the lady Diiloinea del Toboso; nether she was
married; whetlier she was vet a mother, or Lkely to be bo ; or
whetbH', if still a virgin, sue retained, with modest reserve and
maidenl^ decorum^ gn^tul sense of the love and constancy of Signor
Don Quixote. "Dulcinea," said the knight, "is still a maiden, and
iny devotion to her more fixed than ever; our correspondence as here-
tofore ; but alas I her own beautiful person is transfumied into that
of a coarae country. wench." He then related etpry pnrticular oon-
earning the eucliaatment of the Udy Dulcinea. He also gave them

• That U, «rich a deputed or «ubordinata poirar,

A.OOgIC

54i DoK quixon,

to. accoimt of hit descenb iuto tbe cave of Moatesboa, and informed
them of the instructiona given hy the sage iterlin for the delivenioce
of his mistress. Great waa the satisfaction the two gentlemen received
at hearing Don Quixote relate his strange adrentures, and thej were
equally surprised at his extrava^eea, and the elegance of his nana-
tire. One momenttbeythougliiuini a man of extraordinary judgnient.
and the next that be was totally bereaved of liis senses i nor ooubi
^'hey decide what degree to assign him between wisdom and folly.
Sancho, having finished his supper, left the innkeeper fully dosed

irith liquor, and joined his master's party in the next chamber.
' ediatalj ou entering, he said, " Maj 1 die, gentlemen, if the
tr of ttaat book whicn yon have got has any mind that he and I

should eat a friendly meal together; he ¿¿la me glutton, tou asi; —
egad ! I wish be may not set me doivn a drunkard too." In faith,
he does," quoth Don Jerónimo; "though I do not remember his
vords; only this I know, that they are scandaJoos, and false into
the bargain, as I see plainly by the countenance of honest Bancho here
before me. "Take my word for it, gentlemen," quoth the sqnire,
" the Sancho and Don Quixote of that history are in nowise like the
men that are so called b the book made by Cid Hamete Beaengdi ;
for they are truly we two ;— my master, valiant, discreet, and a true
lover ; and I, a plain, merry-eonceitad fellow ; but oeithw a glutton
nor a drunkard. " I hehere it," quoth Don John ; " and, were such
a thing possible, I would have it ordered that none should dai« to
reoord the deeds of the great Don Quixote hut Cid Hnmete Tiim^lf^
bia first historian ; as Alexander commanded that none bnt Apelles
sbonld presume to draw his portrait : bebg a subject too loft; to be
treated bv one of inferior talent." Treat me who will," sakd Dob
Quixote, so that they do not maltreat me ; for patience Itself will not
Bubmit to be overladen with bjuríes," "No injury," qnoth Don
John, "can be offered to Signer Don Quixote that he is not able to
revenge, should be fail to ward it off witn the buckler of his potiemcc^
which seems to me both ample and strong."

In such conversation thejr passed the greater port of the night; and
though Don John would fam have had Dou Quixot« read more of the
book, be declined it, saying he deemed it read; and, by the aaropie be
had seen, he pronounced it foolish throughout. He was nnwiUiag,
obu. to iudulge the scribbler's vanitv so far as t« let him think he hod
read his book, should he h^pen to learn that it Iiad been put into hia
hands ; " and, besides, it is proper," he added, " tbat tne eyes, as
well as the thoughts, should be turned from everything filthy and
obscene."

They then asked him which way he waa travelling, and he told
tíicm that be should go to Soragossa, to be pteseot at the jousts i^
that city for the annual prize of a suit of arnoiir. Don John told
him tbat, m the new history, Don Quixote is said to have been there,
running at the rbg, of which the author gives a wreiohed account:
dull m the contrivance, mean m style, miserably poor in devices, ana
rieh only b absurdity. " For tbat very reason," answered Don
Quixote, " I will not set foot b Soragossa, and thus I shall expose the
falsity of this new historian, uid all the world will be convinced that
I am not the Don Quixote of whom he speaks." " In that you will
do wisel.v," said Don Jerónimo ; " and at Barcelona there are other
jousts, where Signor Dcm Quixota may have a full ojpportnni^ to dii-

A.OOgIC

HIS HOST rOTBMT SOLILOqiTT. 645

play his niani." " To Barcelona I iriH go, pentlemen," replied the
Km^ht J " and now permit me to take mj leave, for it is time to retire
to rest, and be pleased to rank me among tbe number of Tonr beat
friends and futnful serrante." "And me too," qnoth Sancfio ¡ "for,
marliap, ;ou mar And me good for something:."

Don Quixote and Sancno then retired to their chamber, leaving
the two stmnsers surprised at the medley of sense and madnees they
had witnessed, and with a fall coaTÍetion that these were the genuine
Don Quixote and Sancho, and those of the Arra^onese author certAinlr

rioiis. Don Quixote arose early, and, (appm^ at the partition en
other room, he afratn bid bis new friends adieu. Sancho paid the

"'""'" ' " i'- - 1 gj the same time advised him '' "

is inn, or to supply it better.

CHAPTER LXL

Qr KhtU h^tl Dvn QniiBit tn hit va¡/ to Baralena.

Ik the morning, which was oool, and promised a temperate day,
Don Quixote left toe inn, having first informed himself which was the
most mrect road to Barcelona, avoiding Saragossa: for be was deter-
mined to prove the falsehood of tbe new history, wltidi he understood
had so grossly misrepresented him. Six days be pursued his course
without meeting «ita an^ advontare worth recording; at the end of
which time, leaving the tugh-road, night overtook them among some
abady trees, but whether of corle or oak, it doea not appew ; Cid
Hamete, in this instance, not observing his wonted nunuteuesa of
description. Master and man having abgbted, tbey laid themeelves
down at the foot of these trees. Sancho nad slready taken his after-
noon's collation, and therefore he ruahed at once mto tbe arms of
sleep i but Don Quixote, not from hunzer, but his restless imagina-
tion, could not close his eyes. Agitated by a thousand fiuicies, now
he tbonght himself in the cave of Montesinos: now he saw his
Doloinct in her odiona disguise, ipring opon her ass ; the next
moment ne heard the words of the sage MerDn, declaring the means
of her deliverance: then again he was in despair when he recollected
Üie unfeeling negligence of his «quire, who, he believed, had giren
himself only five lashes ! a number so small compared with those yet
remaining-, that, overwhelmed with grief and indignation, he thus
argued with himself: — "If Alexander the Great cut the Ooraiankno^
saying, 'To cut is the same as to untie,' and becwne thereby the
universal lord of all Asia, exactly the same may happen now m tbe
disenchautmeut of Dulcinea, if the lashes be apfiUM by force; for if
the virtue of this remedy consist in ftmcbo's receiving three thousand
lashes, what is it to me whether they are applied by liimsetf or another,
since the efficacy lies in his receiving thñn, from whatever hand they

Under this conviction Don Quixote approached his sleeping squire,
having first taken EoEinante's reins and adjusted them so that ho
might use them with effect. He then b^au lo untross his points—
tbmii^ it Ú genenlly thongfat that he had only that one in the boat

Who is nntrussing raeF" "It « I,

, ^._. , who am come to atone for thy neglect, and

to remedy taj own troahlea. I am come to whip Iheo, Sancho, aod
to ¿schaiye, at least in part, the debt for which thou art bonncL
Dulcinea is perishing; thon lirest Diioonoenied ; I am dying with
ileaire ; and therefore untnisa of thine own accord ; for it is my i&l«ii-
tioD to give thee, in this conTenicnt solitude, at least two thouMnd
laahea." "No, indeed," nuolh Sancho; "body o' me! keep off, or
the d^ Bhall hear of itl The strokes I am bound to gire myself
must be with my own will and when I please. At present I am itot
in the hnmoitr. Let your worship be content that 1 promise to ñag
and flay myself as soon as ever I am so inclined." " There b bd
tmstiui to tby courtesy, Sancho," said Don Quiiole i " for thon ait
hard-hearted^ and, though a peasant, of vcrv tender flesh," He tben
struggled with ^cho, and endeavoured, tiy force, to uncover him.
Upon which Sancho jumped up, then closing with his master, he
threw his arms about him, tripped up his heels, and laid him flat on
his back ; whereupon, setting his right knee upon his breast, he held
his hands down so fast that he could not stir, and soarcely could
breathe. " How, traitor ! " eiclaimed the knight, " dost thon rebel

«gainat thy master and natural lord? Dost rhou raise thy hand
Rgainst him who feeds thee?" "Ineither raise np nor pull down/*
answered Sancho : " I only defend myself, who am my own lord. If

your worship will promise me to let me alone, and not talk i^nt
whipping at present, I will set yon at liberty ; if not, ' Here ttxm
diest, traitor, enemy to Donna SandiK.' "* Don Quixote gave him
the promise he desired, and swore, by the hfe of his best thoughts, be
would not touch a hair of bis garment, but leave the whipping entirdj
to his own discretion,

Sancho now removed to another place, and, as he was going to 1»
himself nnder another tree, he thought something touched lus head;
and, reaching up his hands, he felt a couple of dangling feet, with
hose and shoes. Trembling with fear, he moved on a little farther,
but was incommoded by other legs; npoo which he called to bis
mast«r for help, Don Quitóte went up to bim, and asked him whsit
was the matter : when Saocho told him that all the trees were full of

the legs of robbers and banditti, who have been pooished for their
crimes : for here the officers of justice hang them by scores at a tine,
when they can lay hold of them, and from this eircumatanee I ow-
clude we are not far from Barcelona," In truth, Don Quiiote waa
right in his couiecture, for when day began to dawn, they plainly saw
that the l^s they had felt in the dark belonged to the bodies of

But if the^v were alarmed at these dead banditti, how mudi mor»
were thef disturbed at being suddenly surrounded by more than fortf
of tbdr bvin^ oomrades, who commanded them to stand, and not to
move till their captain came up. Don Quixote was on foot, his horwn
nnbridled, his lance leaning against a tree at some distance ; in short,
being defenceless, he thought it best to cross his hands, lung down

* Banotio her* quotea the laat Una of an old baUuL

ádtzntubb wna tnm boxbebs. W

bis held, and reMire himself Tor better ooeanona. The mbbeiB,
however, were not idle, but immediately fell to work opon Dapple,
and in a tric« emptied both wallet and closk-bag. FortmatelT (ot
Smicho, ho had secitred the orowua given him b; the duke, witn lua
other money, in a belt wliicb he wore about his waist ; nevertheless,
they would not have escaped tbe searching eyesVf these good people,
who apare not even what is hid between the fleeh and the skm, Hm
they not been checked by tbe arrival of their captaio. His age
seemed to be about four-and -thirty, his body was robost, his stature
tall, his visage austere, and his complexion swarthy; he was mounted
upon a powerful steed, olad in a coat of steel, and his belt was stui^
round with pistols. Observing that his squires (for so they call men
of their vocation) were about to ride iSancho, he commanded tiiem to
forbear, and was instantly obeyed, and thus the girdle escaped. He
wandered to see a lance standing against a tree, a target on the
ground, and Don Quixote in armour, and pensive, with the most sad
Mod melancholy countenance that sadness itself could frame.

Going up to the knight, he said, " Be not so deeded, pood sir, for
you are not fallen into the hands of a cruel Osins, bat mto those of
Roque Gumort, who has more of eompassion in his nature than
cruelty," "My deiectioB," answered Don Ouiiote, "is not on
account of having fallen into your hands, 0 valorons Hoqne, whose
fame «tends over the whole earth, but for my negligence in having
suffered myself to be surprised by your soldiers, contrary to the
bounden duty of a kn^ht-errant, which requires that I should be
continually on the alert, and, at all hours, ray own sentinel: for, let
me tell yon, illustrious Rxique, bad they met me on horseback, with
my lance and niy tarset, they would have found it no veir essy task
to, make me yield. Know sir, I am Don Quixote de la Mancha, he
with whose exploits the whole globe resounds."

Roqne Qniuart presently perceived Don Quixote's inlirmitv, and
that it had in it more of madness than valonr ; and, though he had
sometimes heard his name mentioned, he alwavs thousbt that what
had been said of him was a Action, conceiving that such a character
could not exist : he was therefore dehghtcd with this meeting, as he
might BOW know, from his own observations, what degree of credit
was really due to the rc^iorts in circulation. " Be not concerned,"
said Boque, addressing himself to Don Quixote. " nor tax Fortune
with unkindness ; by thus stumbling, you may cnance to stand more
firmly than ever : for Heaven, by strange and cirouitous ways,
incomprehensible to men, is went to raise the fallen, and enrich toe
needy.

Don Quixote was about to return his thanks for this courteous
suddenly a noise was heard near them, like the

trampling of monv horses-, but it was oansed by one only, upon
which came, at full speed, a youth, seemingly about twenty years of
1^, clod in green damask edged with gold laóe, tronsers, and a loose
coat; his bat cociied in the Walloon fashion, with strait woxed-ieathw
boots, spurs, dagger, and gold-bilted sword ; a small carbine in his
hand, and a brace of pistols by his side. Roque, hearing the noise of
a hoiee, turned his head, »id observed this baudaome youth advancing
towards him : " Yaliant Hoque," said the cavalier, " yon are the
person X have been seeking ; for with you I hone to find some com-
Imt, though not a remedy, in my etSiotiMis. Not to keep yon in
3"=i , , . ■x.oog\c

St8 DOH qmzoTB.

suspense, beoanse I perceive that ;ou do not know me, I «ill tell
jrou irho I am. I am Clamlia Jeromma, daughter of Simon Porte,
jour intimate friend, and the particnlar enem; of Claqnel Torellas,
who is abo youre. being of the faction which is adverae to ytm. You
know, too, that Torellaa ha^ a son, called Bon Vincente de Toiellu,
at least so he was called not two hours &i;o. That son of hia — to
ahorten the story of m» mirfortane — ah, what sorrow he has bronilit
upon me ¡—that son, I sav, saw me, and courted me ; I listeneo to
him, and loTed him, ankaawn to my father : for there is no woman,
however retired or secluded, but finds opportmuty to mtify her
unmiy desires. In short he promised to be mj spouse, and I pledged
msjrelf to become his, without jjroceeding any farther. Yeaieedaj I
was informed that, foi^tting his engagement to me, he rras going to
he married to another, and that this morning the ceremony was to be
nformed. The news confonnded me, and I lost all psbenoe. Iff
T being out of town, I took the opportunity of eqoipping mTseu
BS you now see me : and by the speed of this faorse, I OTWtook Don
Vincenle about a leasue hence, and, without stoppineto reproach
*■■— -IT hear his eicuscs, I fired at him not only with this pieoe, bat

^ler

his servants, who eitlier dared not, ( . . . _

execution of my purpose ; and am come to seek vonr

get to France, «here 1 have reUtiouB, with whom I may livei iwlto
entreat you likewise to protect my father from any cruel lerenge t»
the part of Don Vincente's numerous kindred."

Boque was struck with the gRllantry, bravery, flgur^ and also the
adventure of the beautiful Claudia ; ana said to ber, " Come, madun,
and let ns first be assured of your enemy's death, and then we will
consider what is proper to be done for you." Don Quixote, «ho had
listened attentively to Claudia's narration, and the replf of Roque
Guinart, now interposed, sayine, " Xiet no one trouble Dtmtelf with
the defence of this lady, for I t^e it upon myself. Give me my horse
and my arms, and wait for me here while I go inqnest ofthepeijured
knight, and, whether living or dead, make him fulfil his promise to 80
much beauty." " Ay, ay, let nobody doubt that/' quoth Sancho : " my
master is a special iiaud at mateh-making. 'Twas but the other d^
he made a voung n^ue consent to marry a damsel ho would fain have
left in the Inrch, after he had given ber his word ; and, had not the
enchanters who always tormeut nis worship, changed the bridegroom
into a lacquey, that same maid by this rime would have been a

Roqne, who was more intent upon Claudia's business than the dis-
course of master and man, heudthem not: and, after commandins
his situires to restore to Sancho all they had taken from Dapple, and
likewise to retire to the place where they had lodged the night before,
he went off immediately with Claudin, at full speed, in quest of the
wonnded, or dead, Don Vmcente. They presently arrived at ܻe ^^aoe
where Claudia had overtaken him, and found nothing there except
the blood which had been newly spilt; but, looking round, at a con-
siderable distance they saw some persons ascending a hill, and con-
cluded (as indeed it proved) that it was Don Vincente being conveyed
by his servants either to a doctor or his crave. They instantly
pnshed forward to overlake them, whic^ they soon effected, and
, , . .A.OOgIC

TKX tíTÍL KIBXi-EB, US

found Don Vitiaente in the btidb of his «errmts, entreating them
in a loir and feeble Toioe to let him die in that place, for lie could no
loiurer endure the pain of his woanda.

Clandia and Roque, throtriog themselTea from theic horaes, drev
near: the servants were startled at the upearance of Boque, and
Clandia trsa troixbled at the sight of Don Vinoente : when, divided
lietween tenderness and resentment, she approached him, and, taking
hold of his hand, said, " Had jou but given me this hand, according
to oar contract, yon vould not have been reduoed to this extretuitf.
The wounded cavalier opened his ainiost closed eyes, and, reco^sing
Claudia, he said, " I perceive, fair and mistaken lady, that it is to
yonr hand 1 owe my death:— a punishment unmerited by me, for
neitber in tbouftbt nor deed could I offend you." " It is not true,
then," said Claudia, " that, this verr moruiaff, yon were ^iog to be
married to Leonora, daughter of tne rich Kdvaatro?" "No, cer-
tainly," answered Don Vinoente ; " my evil fortune must have Wne
jou tnat news, to excite your jealoosy to bereave me of life; bot
since I leave it in your arms, 1 esteem myself happy ■ and, to assure
von of this truth, take my hand, and, if you are wilfing, receive me
for jour hosband; for I can now give you no other aaiisfactioD for
the injury which jou imagme you have received."

Claudia pressed his hand, and such was the aognish of her heart
that ahe swooned away upon the bloodv boeom of Don Vincente, ana
at the same moment he was seized witn a mortal paroxysm. Koaue
was confounded, and knew not what to do; the servants ran for

conviaccd that her beloved husband no longer breathed, she rent the
air with her groans, and ;iierced tlie skies with her lamentolions. She
tore her hair, scattered it in the wind, and with her own merciless
hands wounaed and disfigured her face, with every other demonstra-
tion of grief, distraction, and despair. " O rash imd cruel woman ! "
she exclaimed, " with what facility wert thoo moved to this evil deed !
O maddening sting of jealousy, how deadiv tby effects ! O mv dear
hnsbaud ! whose love Kir me hath given tnee, for thy bridal bed, a
oold grave ! " ,

So pitcons, indeed, were the lamentations of Claudia, that they
forced tears even from the eyes of Uoquc, wlieie they were seldom or

never seen before. The servants wept aj ' ' " ' ' '^' - -*'

recovered from one fainting-flt, only to .
around was a scene of sorrow. At length '
attendants Ui take up the body of Don Viu
town wbere bis father dwelt, which was nc
be there interred. Claudia told Boque ths
to retire to a nunnery, of wliich her aunt i
what remained of ber wretched life, lookin
an eternal spouse. Roque applauded hei
condudr her wherever it was her desire to g
i^ainst the relatives of Don Vincente, or
violence to bim. Claudia expressed her t
she could, but declined bis company, anc
tion, took her leave of bim. At the sami
Tanta oanied off his dead body, and Roqne i
Thaa ended the amour of Claudia Jeronii

I!,, Ki, Google

850 DOS QTmoTB.

wu so caUnútoiu, since it was tsoagbt about b; the eniel and
irreaiatible power of jeBlousr.

Eoque Guinait found his band of desperadoes in tbe place he bad
•ppobted to meet them, and Don Quixote in the midst of them, ea-
deaTOuring, in a fonnal speech, to persuado them to quit that kind of
life, so prejudicial both to eouI and body. But his auditors «er«
dii^ Gascons, a wild and ungovernable race, and therefore his
harangue made out little impression upon Ihem. Roque hating asked
Sancho Panza whether they had restored to him all the property
which had been taken from Dapple, he said they had retnmtñl m biri
tJiree nightcaps, which were worth three cities. "What does the
fellow say?" quoth one of the party: "I have got them, and they
are not worth three reala." "That i» true," qnoth Don Quixote:
"but mr squire justly yalues tbe gift for the sake of the giver.
Hoque Guinart insisted npon their bein^ immediately restored; then,
after commanding his men to draw np m a line before him, he cadsea
all tbe clothes, jewels, and money, and, in short, all they had plnn-
deied since the last divisiou, to be brought oat and spread before
them; which being done, he made a short appraisement, reducios
into money what could not be divided, and shared tbe whole among
his company with the utmost exactness and impartiality.

After sharing the booty in this manner, by which all were satisikd,
Itoque said to Don Quixote, " K I were not thos exact in detdinfr
with these fellowa, there would be no living with them." " Weil,
qnoth Sancho, "justice rauat needs be a pood thing, for it is neces-
sary, 1 see, even among thieves." On heanng this, one of the squires
raised the butt-end of his niece, and would surely have split poor
Sancho's head, if Eoque had not called out to him to forbear. Ter-
rified at bis narrow escape, Sancho resolved to seal up his lips while
be remained in such company.

Just at this time intelbgence was brought by the scouts that, not
fat distant, on the Barcelona road, a large boov of people were seen
coming that way. "Can yon discover, said Hoque, "whether thev
are such as we Cook for, or such as look for us F" "Snch as we loot
for, sir." "Away, then," said Hoques "and bring them hither
straight— and see that none escape." The command was instantly
obeyed; the hand sallied forth, while Don Quixote and Sancho
1 with the chief, anxious to see what would follow. In the

1 time Roaue conversed with the knight on his own wav <rf
g. " This life of ours must appear strange to yon. Sienor Don
Ouiiote— new accidents, new adventures, in constant su

living. " This life of ours must appear strange to y

Ouiiote— new accidents, new adventures, in constant , —

all full of danger and disqoiet : it is a state, I confess, in which there
is no repose either for body or mind. Injuries wbch I could not
brook, and a thirst of revenge, first led me into itj contrary to my
nature ; for the savage aspenty of my present behaviour is a disuse
to my heart, which is gentle and humane. Yet, unnatural as it is,
having plunged intoit^I persevere; and, as one sin is followed by
another, and mischief is added to mischief, my own resentments are
now so linked with those of others, and I am so involved in wrongs,
«d factions, and engagements, th^ nothing hut the hand of Provi-
dence can snatch me out of this entangled mate. Nevertheless, 1
deepair not of combg, at last, into a s^e and qniet harbour."

Don Quixote was surprised at these sober reiSections, so different
m>m whiú he should have expected from a banditti chief, whose oooa-

BOQUE amUílíT AMD THB FILGBIV3. SSl

pation wu mbbery and murder. " Signor Roque," uid he, " tlie
begiimiiií; of » care consists in the knowledge of tbe distemper, and
in the patient's villiogness to take Uie medicines prescribed to htm
hy his physician. Ifou are sick : };ou knov jrour malady, and God,
our physician, is read; with medicinea that, m time, wul ceriainlr
effete a cure. Besides, siimera of good imilerstandiiig are nearer to
amendment than those nho are devoid of itj and, as your auperior
sense is tnanifcat, be of (rood cheer, and hope lor your entire recovery.
If in this deairaole wo» you would take the shortest wav, and at
once enter that of your saltation, come with me, and I will teach you
to be a knight-errant— a profession, it is trae, fuil of labours and
disasters, but which, bemg pUced to the account of penance, will not
fail to lead you to honour and felicity." Roque smiled at Don
Quixote's counsel, but, changing the discouiae, he related to him the
tragical adventure of Clandia Jeronima, which eriered Sancho to the
heat; for he had been much captivated by the beauty, grace, and
sprightliness of the young lady.

The party which had b^n despatched by Soque now returned with
their captives, who consisted of two gentlemen on horseback, two
pilgrims ou foot, and a coacb full of women, attended by six servants,
some on foot, and some ou horseback, and also two muleteers be-
longing to the gentlemea They were surrounded by the victors,
who, as «ell as the vanquished, waited in profound silence lili the
great Roque should declare his wiU. He flm asked the gentlemen
who they were, whither they were going, and what money they had f
"We are captains of infantry, sir," said one of them, "andaré going
to join our oanpanies, whicli are at Naples, and, for that purpose,
intend to embark at Barcelona, where, it is said, four galleys are
i^ut to sad! for Sicily. Two or three hundred crowns is somewhere
about the amount of our cash, and with that sum we accounted our-
selves rich, considering that we are soldiers, whose purses are seldom
OTerkden." The jnlgrinia beimi questioned in the same manner,
Bsid their intention was to embark for Rome, and that they had about
them some threescore reals. The coach now came under examina-
tion, and Roque was informed, by one of the attendants, that tbe
perrjons within were the lady Donna Guiomar de Quiñones, wife of
the Regent of the vioarahip of Naples, her younger dau^ter, a
waiting-maid, and a duenna ; that six servants accompanied them, and
their money amounted to six hundred crowns. " It appears, then,"
said Roque Guinart, " that we have hei« nine hondred crowns, and
aixty reals ; my soliere are sixty in number ; see how much falls to
the share of each ; for I am myself but an indifferent accomptant."

His armed ruffians, on heanne this, cried out, "Long live Roquo
Guinart ! in spite of the dogs tiiat seek his rain." But tbe officers
looked chapfallen, the lady-regent much dejected, and tbe pilvrims
nothing pleased at witnessing this confiscation of their enecta.
Rogue held them awhile in suspense, but would not long protract
their suffering, which was viaitile a bow-shot off, and therefore,
turoing to the captains, he said, " Pray, gentlemen, do me the farom-
to lend me sixty crowns ; and yon, lady-regent, fourscore, as a slight
perquisite which these honest ^ntlemcn of mine expect: for 'the
abbot must eat that sings for his meat ;' aud joa may then depart,
and prosecute your journey without molestation; being secured bj»
pMi which I will give you, in case of your meetmg with any other of

66£ jKíx i^jnarm.

foj people, vho are dispened about this part of the catmt^ : tar H
is not a practice vith me to molest soldiers, and 1 should be toath,
inadam, to be found wanting in respect to the imi sex— especiallj to
ladies of four quality."

The captains vera liberal in their acknovledpnenta to Roqiie for
hia courtesy and moderation in lutring renerously left them a part of
their money ; and Uonoa Qoiomar de Quiñones wonld have uirown
herself out of the coach to kiss the feet and hands of the gnat
Boque, but he would not suffer it, and entreated her pardon for the
iniujy be was forced to do them, m compttanoe with the duties of an
oirce which his evil fortune had imposed upon him. The tad; llien
ordered the foBiBcore crowns to be immediately paid to him, aa her
share of the aasessment ; the captains had alreadj; diabnrsai their
quota, and the pilgrims were proceeding to offer their little all, when
noque told thera to wait; then, turning to his men, he said, "Of
these crowns two fait to each man's share, and twenty remain : "let
ten be given to these pilffrims, and the other ten to this honest squirt
that, in relating his travels, he may have cause to sneak well of us.
Then, producing his writing-implements, with whicn he was always
provided, he gave them a pass, directed to the chie^ of his severél
parties; and, taking his leave, he dismissed them, all admiring his
Bcnerosity, his gailautry, and extraordinary conduct^ and lookinit upon
nim rather as an Alciander the Great, than » notortons robber.*

On the departure of the travellers, one of Rogue's men senned
disposed to mormur, saying-, in his Catdonlan dialect, " This captain
of ours is wondrous charitable, nnd would do better among triaia
than with those of our trade; but if he must be giving, let it be with
his own," The wretch spoke not so low but that Roque overheard
hiiiL and, drawing his sword, he almost cleft bis head in two, saying-,
"Thus I chastise the mutinous." The rest were silent laiá orer-
awed; such was their obedience to his authority. Roque then with-
drew a little, and wrote a letter to a friend at Barcelona, to inform
him that he had with him the famous Don Qniiot« de la Mancha, of
whom so much had been reported, and that, being on his way to Bar-
celona, he might be snre to see him there on the approaching festival
of St. John the Baptist, parading the strand, armed at all pointy
moQnt«d on bis steed HoEinante, and attended by his squire oancbo
Panza, upon on assj addina;, that be bad found him wnnderfully saga-
cious and entertaining. He also desired him to give notice of this to
his friends the Niarra, that they might be diverted with the knight,
and enjoy a pleasure, which he thonirlit ton good for his enemies the
Cadells, though he feared it was impoasiblc to prevent their coming
in for a share of what all the world mnst know and be del^hted
Willi. He despatched this epistle b; one of hia troop, who, changing
the habit of his vocntion for that OT ft peasant, ent¿«d the city, ud
delivered it aa directed

* PellicflT proves tliatthh robber Onlnart,i)ra»rirnBnwdP»dToBoeha
Qumsrda, «bb & |>em>ii actually oiisting in ths Lime afCerTuiMs, and tks

oaptoin of a bud ot b-eebooten. About the Mm* period Ibera w«rt^ lOce-
wise, other Andalusian robbers In Sierra Cabrilla, «bo were do leaa equi-
table, unci even mora «onipuloua, (ban the great Roque himseir. Tbeir
nrb nan tbat of good retbrnied people, and they took li-om traiellen tut
half thoir property.

A.OOgIC

CHAPTER T.yn

vatiou and wimdez. Here thej sleep, there tbey eat, sometimea
Sjiag from tlief know not wbat, at otliera ijihg in wait for they
know not whom ; often forced to rteol tfaeir nap standing, and every
moment liabb to beroiued. Now the; appear on this eide of the
conntr;, now on that ; always on the watch, sending out spies, poat-
iog sentinels, blowinsthe matches of their maskets—thougb the}[ had
but few, being chiefij armed with pistols. Koquo passea tho lughts
apart from his followers^ making no maa privy to ais Jodaings ; for
tno nnmerons proclamatioos which the viccror of Barcelona had pnb-
lished against aim, setting a price upon his Lead, kept him in con-
tinual apprehension of surprise, and even of the treachery of Ms own
followeia i making his life irksome and wre( ched beyond meaanre.

Boque, Don Quiiote, and Sancho, atteaded by sii sqoires, set out
for Búcelona. and taking the most secret end unfrequented waya, at
night reacbea the strand on the eve of St, John. Roque now em-
braced the knight and 3<|uirc, ^ling tj> Sancho the promised tea
crowns ; and thus they parted, with taaaj frien^ expressions and a
thousand offers of service on both sides.

Boque returned back, and Don Quixote remained there oo horse-
back, waiting for daybreak : and it was not long before the beautiful
Aurora appeared in the golden balconies of tne east, cheering the
ffowery fields, while at the same time the ears were regaled with the
sound of numeroas kettle-drums and jingiing morrice-bells, mixed
with the noise of horsemen ooming out of the city, ¿.urora now
retired, and the glorious sun gradually rising, at length trapeared
broad as an ample shield on the verge of the horizon. I)on Quixote
and Sancho now beheld the se^ which to them was a woudrona
:lty, and seemed so boundless and so vaat, that the lakes of
■■ — . which tbey had seen in La Mancha, conid not be compared
hey saw ttie ^leys loo, lying at anchor near the shore.

RnydenL

which, on removing- their awnings, speared covered with flags ana
pennants all flickering in the wind, and kissing the surface of the
water, Within tlicm was heard the sound of trumpets, hautboys, and
other martial instruments, that filled the air with sweet and cheering
hannony. Presently the vessels were put in motion, and on the calm
sea began a counterfeit engagement; at the same time a numerous
body of cavaliers, in gorgeous liveries and nobly mounted, issued from
the city, and performed corresponding movements on shore. Cannon
were discharged on board the galleys, which were answered by those
on the ramparts ; and thas the air was rent by mimic thunder. The
obeerfnl se*, the serene sky, only now and then obscured by the

A.OOgIC

654 DON qoixoTE,

Binoke of the artjller;, Beemed to exhilarate and ^addeD evetf

Sancho iroiulered that the buUc; monsters which he saw motinKt»!
the irater should have bo many legs ; and while his master slood in
silent astoQJshment at the msrrelloua scene before him, the bodf of
gay cavaliers come eallopioguptowWshim. shootic^ in tlie Moorish
maimer ; and one cf them— t he person to whom Hoque had written —
came forward, and said, "Welcome to our city, thou mirror and
beacon, and polar-star oi knight-errantry 1 Welcome, I sa^, 0 valo-
rona Don Qmxote dc la Mancha, not the spurious, 'he fictitious, the
apocryphal one, lately sent amongst us in ^ine histories, but the true,
toe l^itimate, the genuine Quixote of Cid Hamete Benengcli, the
flower of historians !" Don Quixote answered not a word, nor did
the oayaliers wait for any answer, but, wheeling round with aU thár
followers, they began to curvet in a circle ^ut Don Quixote, who,
turning tÁ Sancho, said, " These people seem to know us well, Sancho ;
I dare engace they have read our history, and even that of the Arra-
goneae, lately printed."

The gentleman who spoke to Don Quixote again addressed liim.
Baying, "Be pleased, Sigoor Don Quixote, to accompany us. for we
are all the intimate and devoted friends of Roque Guiuart." To which
Don Quixote rephed, " If courtesy beget courtesy, yours, good sir,
springs from that of the great Hoque ; conduct me whither yon
please, for I am wholly at your disposal." The gentlemen answered
in expressions no less polite, and, enclosing him in the midst of them,
they all proceeded, to the sound of martial music, towards the city ;
at the entrance of which the father of mischief so ordered it that,
amon^ the boys, all of w'

audacious than the rest, c_

crowd of horsemen, and one lifting Dapple'a tail, and the other that
of Biainante, they lodged under each a handful of briers, the stings
whereof being soon felt by the poor animals, they clapped their tails
only tlie closer, wbtch so augmeoted their suffering that, plunging
ana kicking from excess of pain, thev quickly brought thcii riders to
the ground. Don ^ijote, abashed ajid indigiiant at the sfiTront,
hastened to relieve bis tormented steed, while Sancho performed the
same kind office for Dapple. Their caraher escort would have cbas-
tised the offenders, but the young rogues presently found shelter in
the rabble that followed. The knight and the squire then mounted
again, and, accompanied by the same rausio and acclamations, pro-
oeedea until they reached the conductor's house, which was large and
handsome, declaring the owner t« be a maoof wealth and consider-
ation ; and there wc will leave them ¡—for such is the will and plea-
sure of the author of this history. Cid Hamete BenengeU.

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTEE LXIIL

LBiBtTBD, ricli, Knatbte, aod eood-hamonTed, wu Don Antonio

Moreno, the present host of Don Qniiote ; and, Wng cheerfully dis-
posed, with iuch an inmate, he soon began to consider how he might
extract amusement from hia whimsical inflrmitj; ; but without offenoe
to his guest— for the jest that giies pwn is no jeat, nor is that lawful

gstime which inflicts an injury. Having prevailed npon the knight
take off his armoor, he led him t« a balcony at the front of nis
house, and there, in his strait chamois doublet (which has already
been mentioned), exposed him to the populace, wbo stood j^azing at
hhn ai if he had oeen some strange babomi. The gsy eavahers again
appeared, and paraded before him as in compliment to him alone, and
not in honour of that dav's festiyal. Sancho was highly delighted to
find oneipeetedly what te fancied tobe another Camacho'a -wedding;
another house like that of Bon Diego de Miranda, and another doke's

On that day sereial of Don Antonio's friends dined with him, all
paying homaf^ and respect to Don Quixote as a knight-errant ; with
which his vanity was so flattered that he oould scarcely conc<«l the
delight which it gave him. And such was the power of Sancho'a wit,
that erery servant of the hoone, and indeed all who heard him, hnnft

— " ;, upon his lips. While sitting at table, Don Antonio said

. _. , We are told here, honest Sanoho, that you r" " ^ "

lover of capons and sausages, that, when you have c

" We are told here, honest San^o, that you are so great a
lover of capons and sausages, that, when you have crammed vour
beUy, you stuff your pockets with the framnenta for another day."
" "Tis not true, an't please your worHhip ; I am not so filthy, nor am
I glutton, as my master Don Quixote here present can bear witness :
for he knows we have often lived day after day, ay, a whole week
together, apon a handful of acorns or hazel-nnts. It is true, I own,
that if they give me a heifer, I make haste with a halter ;— my way ¡a
to take thinzB as I find them, and eat what comes to hand ; and who-
ever has said that I am given to greediness, take my word for it, he is
very much out ; and I would tellmy mind in another manner, but for
the respect due to the honourable beards here at table,"

"hi truth, gentlemen," said Don Quixote, "the frugality of my
■qnire and his cleanliness in eating deserve to be recorded on platrá
of brass, to remain an eternal memorial for ages to come. I oonfeis
that, when in great want of food, he may appear somewhat ravenous,
eating fast and chewing on both sides of his mouth; hut, as for clean-
liness, he is therein most punctilious ; and when he was a guvemor,
socb was his nicety in eating, that he would take up graphs, and even
the grain» of a pomegranate, with the point of a fork. ' "How!"

Suotn Don Antonio, "has Sancho been a governor f" "Yes, i' faith,
have," replied Sancho, " and of an island called Barafaria. Ten days
I govenked it at my own wül and pleasure ; but I paid foi it in aleep-

5H son qcTzcns.

lets nigbts, and learned to bate with all mj beut the tade (J govtn-
ing, and made snch hast« to Icstc it that I fell into a pit, which I
tliDusht woold be m^grixc, but I escaped alive oat of it, bj a mirade."
Hereupon Don Quiiote related niinutd; all the ctic(un8taiic«B of
Sancbo'i govemment, to ttie ereat entertainment of the hearers.

The dinner being[ ended, Don Qniiote waa led by his host into a
diatant apartment, m which there was no other fuinitnre than a anaU
t«ble, qipare&tl; of jaaper, snpported hj a pillar c^ tie same : and
upon it was placed a hast, aeenunsl; of bnmze, tlieeffigjc^aoiiiehi^
penonage. After taking a turn or two in the room, Bon Antntio
said, " Signor Den Quixote now that we are akme, I will maka
known to yon one of Iub moat extraordinary dnmnutanoes, or rather;
I sbould sar, one ot the freatest wondera, imaginable, upon condition
thatwhat I shall communicate be d ■'■■'* - - -'

seoreo7." " It diall be there bnried, answered Don Qniiote: "ancL
to be more secure, I will cover it wjtji a tomlatone; besides, I woiüa
have you know, Signer Don Antonio" (for bv tula time he hadleamed
his name), " tliat you are addressing one who, though he has ears to
hear, has no tongne tobetra;: so that if it please vou to deposit itia
m]' breast, beasanred it ispliuued into theabfgsof aiienoe. "lam
satisfied," said Don Antomo, and, confiding in your promise, I wul
at once raise vour astonishment, and disburthén mv own breast of «
secret which I have long borne with pain, from tne want of somo
penon worthy to be made a confidant m matters which are not to be
revealed to eveirbody."

Thus having, 07 his long preamble, stnngly excited Don Qoixote's
curiosity, Don Antonio made him examine carefully the brazen head,
the table, and the jasper pedestal npon which it stood ; he tbeo said,
" Know, Signer Don Quiiote, that this extraordinary bust b the pro-
duction of one of the greatest enchanters or wizards that ever existed.
He was, I believe, a FoUnder, and a disciple of the famoos Eacotillo,*
of whom so manywooders are related. He was here in myhoose,
and, for the reward of a thousand crowns, fabricated this head for
me, which has thevirtae and praperty of answering to evray queatica
that is put to it. After much study and labonr, drawing fignic^
erecting schemes, and frequent observation of the stars, he completed
his work. To-day being Friday, it is mute, but to-morrow, signor,
jou shall sorely witness its raarveUons powers. In the mean timo
yon may prepare your guestions, for yon may rely on hearing the
Izuth."

Don Qaixote was much astonished at what he heard, and coold
scarcely credit Don Antonio's relation: but, considering bow boob
he should be satisfied, he was content to suspend his opinion, and
express hb acknowledgments to Don Antonio for so great a proof
of his favour. Then leaving the chamber, and carefully lodging
the door, they both retnmed to the saloon, where the rest of the com-
pany were diverting tjiemselves with Sancno's account of his master's
adventares.

The same evenbg they carried Don Quiiote abroad, to take tlie air,
mounted on a large easy-paced mule, with handsome furniture, him-
self unarmed, and with a long wrapping.ooat of tawny-coloured
clout, so warm that it would nave put even frost into a sweat

ais vaxuMrmx kkbowk.

The; fatd gifcn print» oiden to the Mmots to flitd annusnettt
for Sancho, bo as to ünrrent his learing ttw house, u they had
secretly fixed cm the hack of Don Quixote's cost a parchment on
vhich was written in capital ietteis : — " Ttus is Don Quixote <w la

They had no soonsr set ont, than the parohnent attnicted tbt eyes
of the ^asaengers, and the inacriptioi) being read aloud, Don Quixote
beard üa name so frequently n^Mei that, tarninff to Don Antonio
-■"■ ' - 1 - - 1 . .-■1 « rr gia* tne p *

kmght-emuitry, aince its roofesaors aie known utd renownedoTer the
whole earth ! ObserTO, Signer Don Anhaiio, eren the verr boys oí
tbb city know roe, altho^h they never conld nave seen me Defoie ! "

- . - reiT true, Signor Don Qoixote," answered Oon Antcnia ; " for,
as &e is diseoTereií by its omi light so is nrtoe W its own esoel-
lenoe ; and do renown eqoals in spTenaoor that which ia acqaired by
Dte profession of arms."

As Don Quixote thus rode alonz amidst the applause of the people,
a Caatilian who had read the labu on his tiaok, eichiimed, "What I
Don Quixote de la Mancha I Now the devil take thee ! How hast
thoQ ^t here alive after the many dmbbinga and bastbga thou hast
receiredP Mad indeed tbon art I Had thy folly been confined to
thyself, the mischief bad been less ; but then haat the property of
oonyerting into fools and madmen all that keep thee oompany^wit-
ness these gentlemen here, thy present associates. Oct bome, block-
head, to thy wife and children ; look after thy house, and leave these
fooleries that eat into tby biain and skim off the oresm of tbf
understandios ! "

" Go, friend," said Don Antamo, " look after your own business,
and give your advice where it is required ; Signor Don Quixote is
wise, and we, hie friends, know what wc are doing. Virtue demands
our homage wherevor it is found ; b«fon& therefore, in an eril honiv
nor meddle where jon «re not called. Truly," answered the Cas-
tilinnj "your worship is in the right ; for to give that limaiic adrice,
is to kick against the pricks. Yet am 1 grieved that the good aense
-which he is said to have, should run to waste and be loet in the mire
of kniffht-errantiT. And may the evil hour, as your wonhip said,
overtake me and all my generation, if ever you catch me giving
advice again to anybody, asked or not asked, though I were to live
to the age of Methnsslem." So saying, the adviser went his way ¡
but the rabble still pressing upon them to read the inscription, Don
Antonio contrived to have it removed, that they might proceed
without interruption.

On the approach of night the cavalcade returned home, where
preparations were made for a ball by the wife of Don Antonio, an
accoumlished and beautiful lady, who had invited other friends, both
to do honODT to her guest, and to entertain them with his singular
humour, f ■ ■• ■ ■ ■ ■ ' ■ . ■■ . . >

about ten o

LID more iree^tom toan usual ; ana, u> oivert tnemseivea ana tat resi,

flicd Don Quixote with daw'ing that Uier worried both his soot
bodv. A siijht it was inde^ to' behold his figure, long, lank,
lean, ana swarthy, straitened in his clothes, so awkward, and with so
little agility.

SSs DOS Quixon.

These roguish ladisa took oocasúm privBtel7 to pn tiieir conrt to
him, Mid he aa often repelled them ; tiil, at last, fiomng himself m
pressed by their Mnoions attentiiHu — " A^|!«, parta* advenai.'"
cried he aumd : " avaiuit, ladies ! your desires arepoiaon to mrnnil!
Leave me to repose, ye uoweloorae thoughta, for the poerieas l>nl-
cinea del Toboso is the sole queen of my heart ! " He then threw
himself on the floor, where he lay quite shattered by the violence of
his exertions. Don Antonio ordered that the wearied knig-ht should
be taken up and carried to bed. Sancho vas among the first to lend
a helpii^ hand ; and as he raised him up, " What, in Heaven's nam^
sir," said he, " put you upon this business P Think «ra that all who
are vahant iniist be caperers, or all knights-emut dancing-masters?
If so, yoQ are much mistaken, I can tell you. Body of me ! some
that I know wonld rather cut a gfiant's weasand than a caper.
Had yoo been for the shoe-jig,* I could have done your basinen
for yon, for I can frisk it avay like anv jer-falcoo; but as for
yotir fine dancinz, I cannot work a stitch at i(." The company
vere much diverted by Sancho's remarks, who now led hia master
to bed, where he left him well covered up, to aveat away the Ql
effects of his dancing.

The next day, Don Antonio determined to make experiment of the
enchanted head : and for that purpose the knight and squire, the two
mischievous ladies (who had been invited by Don Antonio's lady to
Bleep there that night), and two other friends, were conducted to tho
chamber in which the cend was placed. After lockituir the door, Don
Antonio prooeeded to explain to them the properties of the miracnloas
bust, of which, he saiiL he shodd now for the first time, make trial,
but laid them all unaer an injunction of secrecy. The arti&ee was
known only t<j the two gentlemen, who, had they not been apprised oí
it, would have been nolcss astonished than the rest at so inaenioos
a contrivance. The first who approached the head was Don Antonio
himself, who whispered in its ear, not so low hut ha was oreibeard
by all, " Tell n3e,"^said he, " tliou wondrous head, by the rirtne inhe-
rent in thee, what are my present thoughts P " In a clear and distinet
voice, without any perceptible motion of itsKps, the head replied, "I
have no know)cd|K of thoogiits."

All were astonished to heorarticnlatesonnds proceed from the head,
being convinced that no human creature present had uttered them.
"Then tell me," said Don Anlwiio, "how many persons are here asBem-
bled i" " Thou and thv wife, with two of thy friends, and two of
hers ; and also a famous Vníght, called Don Quixote de la M»tu-Iwj
with his sqaire, Sancho Panza,"

At these words, the hair on every bead stood erect with amazement
and fear, " Miraculoos head ! " exchumed Don Antonio (retirins a
little from the host), " I am now oo&vinced he was no impostor from
whose hands I received thee, 0 wise, oraonlar, and doqacnt head !
Let the experiment be now repeated by some other."

As women are commonly impatient and inquisitive, one of the two
ladies next approached the oracle, " Tel) me, head," said Bh& " what
mean* shall I take to improve mv beauty Í" "Be modeat," replied
the head. " I liave done, said the lady.

palm of ui

iHE taftiCüLoni HUD. 6C9

Her companion then vent ap And sud, " I wonld be giad to knoir,
woDitrous bead, whether lam beloved bv my busband." "Tbatthon
maj'st discover by hü conduct towardi tnee, .said the oracle. " That
is true," said tbe married lady, " and the question was needless j for
sorely by a man's aotiona may be seen the true disposition of his

One of tbe gentlemcD now approached the bust, and said, " Who
ami?" " Thou knowest," was the answer. "That is not an answer
to mj question— tell me, bead, knowest thon who I amf" "Don
Pedro Noriz," replied the head. "'Tis enou eh— amazing bust I"
exclaimed the geutlemsu, " thou knowest everything/'

The other cenlleman then put his question. "Tell me, bead, I
beseech thee, said he, '' what are the chief wishes of my son and
heir!" "Thoohaat already heard that I speak not of thoughts,"
answened the head, "jet be aaaored thy son wishes to sec thee
entombed." "Truly, I believe it," said the gentleman; "it is but
too plain, I bave done,"

Then came the lady of Don Antonio, and said, " I know not what
to ask thee, yet I woald fain know if I shall eivoy my dear husband
manj yeari. Then listcnine, she heard these words ; " Yes, surely,
from temperance and a aouod body thou mayst expect no less."

Now came the newer of chiralry : " Tell me, tW)u oracle of truth,"
said the knight, " was it a reality or only an illusion that I beheld m
the cave of Montesinos f WiU the penance imjioscd on my squire,
BancliQ Pansa, ever be performed P Will Dulcinea ever be disen-
chanted?" " Wbat thousawest in the cave," replied the bust, "pai-
takes both of truth and falsehood ; Sanchu's prawnce will be slow in
performunoe: and in due time thedisenchantmcnt of Dulcinea will be
accomplished." " I am satisfied," said Don Qoixote ; " when 1 shall
sec the lady of my soul released from her present thraldom, fortune
will have nothing: more to give me."

The last euenst was Sancho, "Shall I," quoth he, "have another
govenmtent ? Sball 1 quit this hunzry life of squireship t Shall 1
see again my wife and children?" If thou retumeat home," said
tbe oracle,'"there shalt thou be a governor, and see ^ain thy wife
and children ; and shouldat thou quit service, thoa wilt cease to be 4
squire." " Odds mv life I" quoth Sancho Pama, " I could have told
as much mywlf, ana the prophet Ferogrullo* could have told me no
more," " Beast I " quoth Don Quixote, " wbat answer wouldst thou
haver la it not enough that tbe answers ^vcn thee should corre-
sjwnd with the questions t " " Yes, truly, sir, quite enough ; only I
wish it bad not been so sparing of its knowledge."

Thus ended the examination of the enchanted head, which left the
whole compim; in amaiement, excepting Don Antonio's two friends.
Cid Hamete Benengeli, however, was determined to divulge the secret
of this mysterions bead, that the world might not ascribe its extraordi-
nary properties to witcncraft or necromancy. He declares, therefore,
that Don Antonio caused it to be made in imitation of one wliich he
had seen at Mudrid, intending it for his own amusement, and to sur-
prise the i^orant ; and he thus describes the machine : Tbe tabl&
tncluding its legs and four eagle^lawa, was made of wood, and

• The Spaniah «ying, "The prophecia of Psrognino" Is of almilar
latiría»] maaoiug as til» "VJñt^daH. ds la Falúua," of the Frotob.

A.OOgIC

560 SON qi^aoTi.

coloured in imitatioD of jasper. The head, bebg a resemblaum of one
of the Ceesare, and paioted hke bronze, was hollow, wiih an opeDing
below eorrespondiiiK with another in tne middle of the table, wbicn
Dssaed through the Ic?, iuid was continued, bf means of a metal tube,
uroagh the floor of the chamber into another beneallt, where a per-
son stood ready to receive the questions, and retnru answers to the
Bune : the Toice ascending and deacending as clear and articnlate as
throQgh a speaking- trumpet ; and, as no marks of the passage of com-
munication were ráible, it waa iaiposaible to detect the cbeat, A
shrewd, sensible youth, nephew to Don Antonio, was on this occasion
tbe respondent, baying been previously instructed b; his uncle in
what concerned the screra! persons with whom he was to communi-
cate. Tbe first question he readily answered, and to the rest he
replied as his judgment directed.

Cid Hamete further observes that this oncolar machine oontimied
to afford amusement to its owner during «gbt davs ; when it cot
abroad that Don Antonio was in possession oían enchanted head that
oould speak and give answen to all questions ; and, apnrehemsÍTe
that it might come to the ean of the watchful scntiueb of ourfaiih,
he thought it pradent to acqnaint tbe officers of tbe Inquisition with
the pEirticulMS; uponwhichlbeycommandedhim to destroy the bust,
in order to avert the rage of tbe ignorant populace, who might think
the possession of it scandalous and profane. Nevertheless, in the
opinion of Don Quiiute and Sancho tt remúned still an enchanted
head,* and a true solver of quest'
tion of tbe ksigbt than of bis squii
of complaisance to Don Antonio,
Quiiote — or, rather, for their owi
running at the ring, which shouh
were duiappointed by an accident I

Don Quixote, being novr desii
aboold be able to do it on foot wit
than if he rode ; he therefore set
the streets, attended by two servai
Mow it happened that^ as they pE
Quixote saw, in large letters, wri
printed;" at which he was mucb^i

operation of printing, he was curious to know how it was performed.
He entered it, with his followers, and saw workmen drawing off the
sheets in one place, correcting in another, composing in this, rcvisiug
in that— in siiort, aii that was to be seen in a great printing-noase.

The knight inquired successively of several workmen what thcj
were empjojed upon, and was gratified by tbcir ready information.
Making tlie same inquiry of one man, he answered, " I am composing
for the press, sir, a work which that gentleman there" — pointing to a
person of grave appearance— "has translated from the ItaUan into our

■ By tbe Importance g^Ten to tbs Gndiastod Boad, it would aeem that io
the Uma of Cenantes it wu a noielty in Spun, whgrs thepeopis, being aooa-
tomcd to hearmuoh of miracles wroi^t by the aid of good orbadagata.
were likciy to view it with extrnordioory iotereat, and porhape give fttU
ereriit to its oracular powen ; for whiati reuoii. Do doulit, the grare ht*-
toriu] Cid Hunete bus here Ihougbt it necesaary to set tlio world right,
and ahow that it wm all a trick, having rsaUy ootbing in it aitber nugic*]
or luperaatural,

A.OOgIC

í PmSTlNB-OTPICE.

" And n hat answers to Eagatt'llein our language?" said Don Quijote.
"Le Bagatelle," said the author, "sisnines triiica; but though its
title pronuses little, it contains much good and substantial malter."

"iknowalittie," quoth Don Quixote, " of the Tuscan kuguage, and
pique myself upon mj recitation of some of Ariosto's stauzss ; but-,
BooUsir, tell me, I beseech jou (and I asknot to ascertain your skill.
But merely out of curiosity), have you evpr, in the course of your
studies, met with the word pigmlal"' " Yes. fretiuently," replied
the author. "Andhowdoyouiianshite itintoCastilianf'qnolliDon
Quixote. "IIow bhould I trouslate it," replied the author, "but by
the votdoUai"'

"Budjof mc,"6a;d Don Quijote, "what a progress you haye made,
(¡Mior, 10 the Tuscan language I 1 would Tenture a good wager that
where the Tuscan says piiicc, you say, in Castiliau, plaze ; aiw where
he says pia, you say, mas ; and ¡u, you transhite by tlie word arriba ;
and ffiuDy aiaxo," "I do so, most ccrtainlr," quoth tlio author, "for
such are the corresponding words." " And yet I dare say, sir," quoth
Don Quixote. " that you are scarcely known in the world :— but it is
the fate of all in^nious men. What abilities arc lost, irhat genius
obscured, and what talents despised! Nerertheless, I cannot but think
that transía! ion from one language into another, unless it be from the
noblest of all languages, Greek and Latin, is like presenting the back
of a piece of tapestry, where, though the figures arc seen, Ibey are
obscured by innumerable knots aud ends of thread ; very different
from the smoothand agreeable testureottbc proper face of the work;
and to translate easy languages of a similar construction requires no
more talent than transcribing one paper from another. But I would
not henee infer that transWing is not a laudable exercise : for. a man
may be «orse and raore unprofitably employed. Korean mjoDserra-
fion apply to the two celebrated translators, Doctor Christopher de
Figueroa, in his Pastor Fido, and Don John de Xaurigui, in his
Aminta; who, with sinjrnUr felicity, have made it difGcult to decide
which is the translation and which Ihc original. Sut tell me, signer,
is this book printed at your eharge, or have you sold the copyright to
some bookseller F"

"I print it, air. on my own account," answered the anthor,"and
expect a thousana ducats V this first Jmpression of two thousand
copies; at - - , trice." "'Tis

mizbty wel yon know but

litUe of th( here is amongst

them. Tal I two thousand

Tolumes np if the book be

deficient in author, " would

jon have m e paid me three

maravedís was favoured P

No, sir, fan ecnre ; profit is

irtiat I now

"Weill irho,pB»8mgOD

observed a "The Light of

the Soul." kiiid,niuLerouB

as they alw r nnmerpus are

the benight lo went forward

" A.oogic

SSS son qs^aoTE.

and Mw anotber book oDder the oonector's band, ani!, on iufmáitg

the title, the; told him it wasUie second part of tneiD^nioau gentk-
man Bon QuiioU de la Idimcha, written oj audi a one, of Tordeiillos.
"I know somethiog of that book," qaoth Bon QuiLOte; "and, on
Wf conscience, I thought it bad been burnt long before now fur ka
Stupidity J but its Martiomas* will come, as it doea to erery box.
Works 01 inrentioD are aaly so far good as the; come near to trutn
and probability : as general liistory is valuable in prqwrtion as it is
authentic."

So su) ing be went out of the printtoi^-bouse, apparently in disgust.
On the same day Bon Antonio proposed to sliow liim the galleys at
that time lyingin the road ; which delighted Huacho, as the sight was
new to hini. Bon Antonia gave notice to the cotnmodors t¿ the four
galleys of his intention to Tisit him that afternoon, vith bis gu&st, the
renowned Don Quiicote de k Mancha, whose name br this time was
vrell known in the city ; and what beCel him there shall be told in tbe
following chapter.

CHAPTER liXrV.

DoH QcKoTE made profonnd refiectiona en the ansmn of tbe
enchanted head, none giving him the sli^test bint of any imDOsition
practised npoa binL and all centering m tbe promise on wnioh be
lelied, of tbe disencbantment of Dulcinea i and he einlt«d at tbe pio-
apect of its speed; aooompliahmenL Aa for Sanobo, tbovgli he
abhorred being a governor, be atill feit some desire to wmmand again,
and be obeyed: — aucb, nnfortiuialEly, is the effect of power OBce
ennyed, tbcFugh it were only the shadow of it !

In tbe aftenioon, Bon Antonio Moreno and his two friends, witb
Don Quixote and Saooho, salhed forth, with an intention to go On
boeid the galleys; and the oommodore, wbo was alnad* ifiinJKd of
their coming, no sooner perceived them appioadi tbe Aon than he
ordered all the galleys to strike tbeir awnmgs, and lie tnuiaans to
play ; at the same time he sent out the ptmaoe, spread «itb rieb car-
pets and oimson velvet eusbini^ to canny tbtm on botrd. lie
moment Don Qnixoie cntczed tbe boat, he was saluted by a disrjiatge
of artillery from tbe fbreoaetle snns of tbe oqitain gdley, whicb wns
repeated by the rest ; and u he ascended the aide cí the vessel, Ibe
crew gave him throe cheers, agreeable to tbe custom of veoeivtagptr-
Mws of rank and distinction. When on deck, the commander, wbo
was a noblcmtn of Valencia,t gave him bis hand, and embneing him,
aaid, " This day, sir knight, will 1 mark with wbita. ae one of the mcu
fortunate of my life, in having been introduced to Bignor Don Quixote

* The f'ast of St. Martio vu tlie time Ibr kiUing hogt far baoon.
t Don Podra Colomn. Count d'Elda, cominaiulod tha «quadron <3Í Bai>
caloña, in 1011, wbon tbo Moon vera eipellad fhim Spain.

smcRO IN rTTBOAioiir. G83

de 1ft Manclia, in whom is combined and centered oU that is ToloaUe
in kniffht-emmtrr."

Puu Quixote replied to Mm in terms no less courteous ; eieeed-
inzly elated to find himself so bonniired. Tlis visitor? were then
Coñduet«d to the quarter-deck, vhich iras richlf adorned, and tbíre
seated themselvea. Presently the signal was iriven for tbe rowers
to strip, Vhen instantly a vast range of naked bodies were exposed
to view, that Med Sancho with terror; and when, in a moment
after, the whole deck was covered with its awning, he thoujrbt lii
flie devils were let loose. Bat this prelude was sngar-cake and
hooey compared with what followed.

Sancho had seated himself on the ñiirht eide of the deck, and close
to the stemniost rower, who, being instrueted what he was to do,
seiied upon the sqnire, and, lifting bim up, tossed him to the next
man, ana he to a third, and so on, passjn" from bank to batdc
throush the whole ran^ of slares, with such astotusbing celerity
that be lost his sight with the motion, and fancied that the devils
themselves were currving him away; nor did he stop till he bad
made the circuit of tne vessel ami «as again replaced on the qnar-
ter-deck, where they left the poor man, bruised, breathless, and in a
cold sweat, scarcely knowing what had befallen him.

Don Quixote, who beheld Sancbo's flight without wings, asked
the general ii that was a careiiony commonly practised urán per-
sons first coming aboard the galieys: for if so, added he, ne must
cbiim an exemption, having no incunation to perforo the like exer-
cise ; then, rising op, and «mispiug his sword, be vowed to Ood that
if anyone presumed to lay hold of Mm to toss him in that maimer, he
would bew their sonla oot.

At that instant tbey struck the awning, and, with a great no™>
lowered the main-janl from the top of tho nast to the botb
Sancho thonght the sk; was filing off its hia^ and tnmhlii^ n]

... , lq>ped It m terror between lus

l^t. Noc was Don Quixote without alarm, ai plainly appeared by
liLS ooontenanoe and manner. With tiie same awiftuess and noise^ the
yard was again hoisted, and during all these iqwcaticats not a wotd
was heard. The boatswain now made the signal for weighing
anchor, and, at the same time, with his whip, be laid aboat him

anpeared to him) in motion all at once, said to himadf, " Af,
tneae indeed are teal enchantments I and not the thia^ we faaie
seen befmi ! — I wonder what those unhappy wretches have done
to be ñoggei at this rate. And bow does Uiat whisthng fellow ¿mo
to whip so many ? Surely, this must be ponatoiy at lecót."

Dtm Quixote seeing with what attention Sancho ofaecrved all that
pasted. Ah, &iead Sanche^" said he, " if thou wouldat now but
strip tothe waist, and place thyself among these gentlonen, bow
«auv and ez^ieditioaalj mi^test thou put an end to the enchant-
' iMoT of Dulcinea ! Vot, having so many corapanious in pidu, theu
WDuldat feel bat little of thine own; besidea, the sage Merlin wrnild
perhaps reckon every lash of theirs, coming irom so (rood a hani^ for

.. ^.1 i,;.L sooner or later, tbon must give thyself."

wonld have asked what lashes he spoke of, and

by the disenchantment of Dnlciuea, but was prevented

by inforiniition that a sipial waa perceivpd on the fort of Monljnidt,
Ola vcssi'l with oars beine in aJsht to the weitwird. On bearint^ this,
he leaped npon the middle )nngwa; and cheered the rovera, savin?,
" FmII awnv, mr lads, let her not escape ns; she must be some
Moorish ihief ! 'i'lic other galleynow coming up tolhc commodore
for orders, two were commanded to push out to sea imnicdiaWly,
while lie altackcd them on the knd i^ide, and tbas tbeTwould be moro
certain of their prei. The crew of the different paDej-s plied their
oara with snch diligence that they seemed to flv. A. ressel was
soon descried about two miles off. which thej judged lo be one of
fourteen or fifteen banks of oars; hot on discoiering the ^dlejs in
efaaec, she immediately made off, in the hope of escapint; hj her
Bwiftnpss. Unfortunately, howerer, for her, the captain galley was a
remarkably fast sailer, and i^ined npon her so quickly that the cor-
•sirs seeing they could cot escupe a superior force, dropped their
' oan, in order to yield thcmseWes prisoners, and not exasperate the
eonimBnder<^ the galley by their obstinacy. Bat fortune ordained
otherwise, for, jnst as the eaptain-galley Imd nearly eloaed with hir,
and she w.is summoned to funf nder, two dmnkeii Turks, who wilh
twelve others were on board, discharged their muskets, with which
they killed two of our soldiers upon tlie prow ; whereupon the com-
monder snore he would not leave a man of tliem alive ; and, coming
np with all fury to board her, she supped ivay under the oars <rf the
gnlle^. The ¿alhy ran ^cad some distance : in the mean time the
ctnaairs, aa their ease -vas deapemte, endeavoured to make oS; bnt
their presumption only aggrav^'d their misfortune : for the captain-
Bailey presently overtooli ihem again, when, cUpping her oars on
uie vessel, she was instantly taken poseesaion of, without more
Uoodihed.

7 this time the tvro otíier gaUcvs bad come np, and tu fonr

imed, with the captured vessel, to their former station near

the shore, where a multitude of people had assembled to see what

had been taken. On ooming to anchor, the commander sent the
pinnaeo on shore for the viceroy, whom he saw waiting to he con-
veyed on board, and at. the some time ordered the main.yard to be
lowered, intending, without delay, to \iaiia the Taaster of the vessel
and the rest of the Turks he had token in fier, abont six-onri -thirty in
number, all stout fcUows, and most of them mnsketeeis. The com-
numder ingnircd which was their master, when one of the captives

iwho was afterwards discovered to be a Spanish renefcado), answerins
lim in Castilian, " That yonng man, sir, is oar captain," said he,
pointing- to a youth of singnlü grace and bcatttv, secmuigly under
twenty years of age. " T^l me, ill-advised dog. said the commo-
dcare, " what moved yon t» kill my soldiers, when yon saw it was
impossible to escape r Is this the respect due tocmtiriu-galleys?
Know you not that temerity is not valonr, aud that doubtful hopes
sboiUd make men bold, bnt not rash F"

The youth wonld have replied, bnt the commodore left him to
reoeive the viceroy, who was at that moment enteiing the ratley, with
a numerous train of servants and otben. "Yon have bad a fine
chase, commodore," said the viceroy. "So fine," answered the
ot^, " that the sport is not yM over, ae yow «oellcncy shall see."
'HoweoP" replied the viceroy. "Becwie,'' itplied the oommo-
dore, ' these dogs, against all law and reason, BDd the custom (ff war,

A.OOgIC

TBB pbisoner's btort. 666

li)iT)Ds IdHed two of my best aoldiera. I h&ve aworn to'lians every
wan I took prisoner, especially tliat bcardlesa roi^ue tíiere, master
o£ the brigantiiie j" pointing to one who had liis hands tied, and
» rope about wa oeck, standiug in expcctotioD of immediate
death.

Tike viceroy was much struck with hts youth, his handsome peraoo,
and rcdt^ed bebaviour, and felt a great desire to save him. " Tdl
me, corsair," said he, "what art thou? aTnric, Moor, oc tcnegadop"
"lam neither Turlc, Moor, nor renegado," replied the youth, in Üift
Castilian toQinie, "What, then, art thou F" aemaudedtbe viceroy.
" A Ctiristian womaiL sir," answered the vouth. "A woman and a
Christian, in this garb, and in such apost!" said the viceroy : "this
i» indeed more wondenuL than credible."

" Gentleiiien," said the youth, "allow me to tell you the brief
story of my life : it will not long delay your retcngc." The request
was urged so piteously, that it was unpossihle to deny it, and the
commodore told litm to proceed, but not to expect pardon for hÍ3
oQeQCC. The youth then spoke as follows ; —

" I am of that anhappy nation whose miseries are fresh in j;our
memaries. My parents being of Moorish race, I was hurried into
Barbarj by the current oí tbeir misfortune», but more especially by
the obstinacy of two of my uncles, with whom I in vain pleaded tliat
I was a Christian. Traeas my dcelarutioaHas, it bad no iuHueiioe
^tlier DD tliem or tho officers charged wit!i our eipulsiou, wbo
believed it to be only a pretext for remaining m the eountr/ where
IwM bom. My father, a prudent man, was a true Qlirislian, aud
my mother also, from wham, with a mother's esriy oounshment, I
imbibed the Catholic faith.

"I was virtuously reared and educated, and neither in langu^e
nor behaviour gave indication of my Uoorisli desceot. With these
endowments, as I grew up what little beauty I bave be^^an to appear,
aiid, iu spite cf my reserve and seclusioii, I «as seen by a youth
cuUed Bod GaspEkr Gre^ria eldest son of a gentleman whoso estate
was close to the town in which we lived. How we met. and con-
versed together, how he was distracted for me, and how I was little
leas «0 for him, would be todious to relate, eapeciallr ai a time whea
I amunderapprehensioDS that thecmel cord whidi threatens me may
cut short my narrative. I will therefore only say that Don Gremio
lOBoLved to bear me eompaoj in our bfuilsbment; and acoordmgty
bo joined the Moorieh e£ile^ whose lan.;uage he nnderstood, tuid
getting aci^uainted with my two uncle^ who had the char(;e or me,
wo ^went together to fiarbaí/, and took up our residence at
Algiers, or, I should rather say, purgatory itself. My fatiior, on
the ficst notice of our banishment, bad prudently retired to a place
of refuge in same other Christian country, leavmür mucb valuóle

r^rty in pearls end Jewels secreted in a certain phwx, which he
covered to mealone, with strict orders not to touch it until his

" On airiving at Algiera, the H»g, understanding that I was beau-
tiful and rich— A report which afterwards turned to my advantage
— sent for me, aud asked me many questions coacemiug my country
and the wealth I had braoght with me. I told him where we bid
resided^ and aleo what money and jewels had been left concealed.
fiid said that if I might be permitted to retunv the tieasores could

,, .A.OOgIC

EG6 SOTi Qimcon.

be easily bronsht n^iiy. This I told liini in Ibe hope that ha arnica
would protect me from iu'a violence.

" WTiÜe the king was making these I'nnniries, infinnration «-as
broiij-ht to him tliat a youth of extrsordinarj-beanfy had a(i?onipaiucd
iiicfrom Spain. IkncwthattheycouJd mean noothcr than Don Gaspar
GrcKorio, Tor he indeed is most beaulifnl, and I was alarmed to think
oCtlie danger to wliich he was eiposed among' barbarians, wherp, a*
1 was told, a handsome jonlh is more valued iJian the most beaut ifnl
woman. The king ordered him to be bronght into his presence,
asking me, at Üic same time, if what had been said of him was tme'.
Inspired, as I believe, by some (tood angel, I told him that the per-
lón they so commended was not a voong man, bnt one of my own
MX, Bfldbcgtted his permission to nave Tier dressed in her proper
Bttire, whereby ber full beauty would be seen, and she vroold be
qiared the confusion of appeanne before his majesty in that nnhe-
comirg habit. He consented, and said that the nest day be wonld
flpeak with me abont my returning to Spain for the treasnre which,
hod been left behind. I then repaired to Don Ga-spar, and faavint;
informed liim of his dan?icr, dressed liim like a Moorwh lady, and the
same day introduced him as a female to the kmg. His majestv «as
Btrack with admiration, and determined to reserve the supposed lady
as a present to the Gruid Signor; and in the mean time, to aToid tb«
temptation of so (rrcat a beauty among his own women, he gave him
in chaise to a Moorish lad; of distinction, to whose lionse be was
immediately convcved.

"The gnef which this separation cansed— for I win not deny that
I love him—can only be imagined by those who have felt the pants
of parting love. By the king's order, 1 pr«scn1ly embarked in this
vessel, accompanied by the two Torks — tlie same that killed jonr
soldiers ; and this man also, who spoke to fou flnit, and whom, thon^
a renegado, I know to he a Ciiristian in his heart, and more indined
to slay in Spain than retnm to Barbary. The rest are Moors and
Turks employed as rowers ; their orders were to set me and the
renegado on shore, in the habits of Christians, on the nearest coast of
Spain ; but these insolent Turks, regardless of their duty, mnst needs
cruise along the coa^t, in the hope of taking some prize before tber
had landed us ; fearing, if we had been first set on shore, we nngjlt
be induced to give imormation that snch s vessel wns at se^ and
thereby expose her to be taken. Last night we made this snoie,
not suspecting that any galleys were so near ns ; but, being disco-
vered, we are now in jonr hands. Don Gregorio remains aaiaps the
Moors as a woman, and in danger oF his life ; and here am I, with mf
Iiands bound, expecting, or rather featingj' to lose that life wlil^
indeed, is now scarcely worth preserving. Tliis, air, is my lamentable
storv : equally true and wretched. All I entreat of yon is to let me
die like a Christian, since, as 1 have told yon, I have no share in the
gnilt of my nation.

Here she ceased, and the tears that filled her lorely eyes drew
many bom those of her auditors. The viceroy himself was mucJi
affected, being a bnmane and compassionate man, and he went
np to ber to nntie the cord with which her beantifol hands were
ffufened.

While the Christian Moor was relatii^ her story, an oM jnlcTint,
who came a-board the galley with the noetoy's idtcndanli^ ued Us
A.OOgIC

THE FlIB CUTtVE lixaomzD. 667

e^ts on her, uid scarcclr bt>d she ñnished wlieo, rushins towards ber,
be cried, " 0. Anua Feltx ! m; dear, unfortuiuite ¿SMf^itet ! I am
thy father Eicote, and was retuming to seek thee, being nimble to
live without thee, who ftrt my verj; soul."

At these words Sancho raised his head, which he had hitherto held
dowii, ruminating on what he had ktelj safFered, and, staring at the

Silgrim, recognised the same Ricote whom he bad met with npon the
aj he had quitted his goTernment ; be was also satisfied that the
dajosel was indeed bis daughter, who, now being unbound, was em-
bracing her father, mingline bet tears with his. " This, gentlcmei^"
said ]i¿, " is mf daaghter, happy in her name alone ; AJina Felix sne
it colled, with the surname of Ricote, as famous for her own beautf
as for her father's riclies. I left my native country to seek in foreign
kingdoms a sate retreat: and haviug found one in Germany, I
retnrocd in this pilKrim'a habit to seek my daughter, and take awar
the propert; 1 bad left. M; daughter was gone, but the treasure I
liavo in my possession ¡ and now, oy a strange turn of fortune, I have
found her, who is my greatest treasQie. If our innocence and our
nnited tears, throng the uprightness of your justice, can open tfae
gates of mercy, let it he extended to us, who nerer in thought offended
7on,nor in anywise conspired with those of our nation who have been
joally banished,"

Saacho now putfmp in bis word, said, "I know Eicote welL and
answer for the truth of what he says of Anna Felix bein^ bis daughter:
but, as for the story of going and coming, and of his good or bod
intentions, I meddle not with them."

An incident bo remarkahlc couhi not fail to make a atron? impres-
non upon all who were present ; so that the commodore, sharing in
the common feeling said to the {air captive ; " My oatL mndam, ia
«ashed away witn your tears; lire, fair Anna Felix, all the years
Heaven has allotted Von, and let punishment fall on tne llaves who
alone are gniitv ." Upon which he gave orders that the two Tnrks
who bad kiUed his soldiers should he hanged at the yard-arm. Bat
the vieeroT earnestly pleaded for their pardon, aa the crime they had
committed was rather the effect of frenzy than design ; and the com-
mander, whose rage had now subsided, yielded, not unwillingly, to bis
leanest.

They now consulted on the means of Don Gregorio's delivemnoe.
Kicote of ered jewels, then in his poasession, to the amount of more
(¿an two thoosand ducats, towards effecting it ; but the expedient
most approved was the proposal of the renegado, who oSercd to
return io Algiers » s small bark of six hanks, manned with Chris-
tians, for be knew when and where be might land, and was, moreover,
aoqnainled wUh the house in which Don Gregorio was kept. Some
doubts were expressed whether the Christian sailors coula be safely
tnsted with the Kuegado ; b ' ■■ .■ Q^ggj^Qge

¡B him expressed by Asna I r father to

nasoH theB in eass they abo

The TJeeroy then returned i no Moreno

with the ewe of Sicote and t : uie same

ém^ ^ command anything th conduce to

their entertainment : such wai nqiired hj

benty and misfortniie,

„„„„,.A.oogic

CHAPTER LXV.

It is relñted in this histerj tbat the wife of Don Antonio Wottan
Teceived Anna Felix with extreme pleasure, tutdwueqnallf delizliini

wilh hex beauty and good sense: for the young lad; excelled in Doth;
and from all parts of the city people came ia crowds to se« her, bi if
thev bad been brou);ht togelher by ihe sound of bell, lioa Quixote
took occasion to inform Don Aninnio tli&t lie conid by no meam
approve of tho expedient they bad adopted for the redemption of Don
Gregorio, as being more dangerous than promising: a much smtT
vny, he added, would be t« land him, with his horse and aims, in
Barbary, and they would see that he would fetch the vounff gentJeam
off, in spite of the whole Moorish race— aa Don Gayleiv» bsd do*e bf
his spouse Meliaendra.

"Remember, air," qnolh Sancho, "that when Sísnor Don G^rferae
reacaed hia wife, and carried her into Trance, it was all done on dry
land ; but here, if we ohanee to rescue Bon Grei^rio, our roul lias
directly over the sea." "ii'or all things except death there iaa
remedy," replied Don Quixote : " let a veesel be ready on sfaore to
receive ns, and the whole world shall not prevent our emhartation."
" 0 master of mine, you are a rare contriver," said Sancho, " but
Eaying is one thing, and doin^ another; for my part.lotiek to tl»
rene^do, who seems an honest, good sort of man. "If the reaegmdo
Bhonld fail " said Den Antonio, " it will then be time for « to accept
the offer of the great Don Qnixote." Two days after, the renefraao
sailed in a small bark of twelve oars, \rith a cmw of stout mid resMute
fellows, and in two days after tbat, the gnlleys departed for the Levant,
the viceroy having promised the oommodore in account of the fbrtimes
of Don Gre^rio and Anna Felix.

One moming, Don Quixote having sallied forth to take the air cm
the strand, anned at all pointe— his jávourite costume, for arms, be

said, were his ornament, and fighting bis recreation~ne aba ...
knigfat advancing towards him. armed also like himself, and beaiiaf »
shield, on which was portraved a reif lendent moon : and wton aear
enough to be bend, m an elev ated voice he addrtssea tdmself t« Don
Quixote^ saying ; " lUiHtñoas knigbt, and neveT.«(ioii^4«iowned
Don Qtniota de la Mancha, I am tíie knight of the White Mocn, */
wfaow incKdible aahierefflents, peradventure, vuv have hswd. I
oome to eng^e in combat with jon. nod to try the stteagth of year
arm, in order to mate you confess that mv mfstress, whoerer she mty
be, is beyond comparison more beautiiul than yont DnIeinM £t
Toboso : — a truth, which if vou fairly oonfess, you will spore yonr own
life, and me the trouble of taking it. The terms of the emubat 1
require are, that if the liiMtaj be mme, yon rdinqnish anna and the
aearoh of adventures for the apace of one year, and tbat, rMorainr
forthwith to yonr own dwelling, you there live during tut pcbod

XKCOUKTEft VTTH A frr&áHGB ENIGET. 669

in B state of profonnd qniet, vbich ivill tend both to toot tem-
poral and epiriiual welfare ; but if, on the coEtmry, my head shall
lie al yiiur mercy, Iben shall the apoila of my horse and anus be
jonrs, and Ibe fame of my exploits transferred to you. Consider
which is best for you, and aetenmne quickly, for this very day most
decide onr fate."

Don Qaixote w«s no leas snrpnsed at the arroi^nce of the faiig:ht
of the W lute Moon than the reason he gave for ctiallenjiin^ him -, and,
with much gravity and composure, he answered, " Kiiight of the
White Moon, whose achieyements have not as yet reached niyeara, I
dare anear you bare never seen the illustrious Uuldnaa ; for, if so, X
Dm confident voa would have taken care not to engine in this trial,
since the sigot of her most hare convinced you that there never
was, nor ever oen be, beauty eomparable to hers ; and, tWtforo,
without giving yon the lie, I only afflrm that you are mistaken,
and accept yoni challenge ; and that too upon the spot, even now,
this very day, as you desire. Of vonr conditions, I accept all bnt
the transfer of vour exploits, whicn being unknown to me. I shall
remain contented with my own, such as they are. Choose then your
«ound, and expect to meet me ; and he whom Hearen favoura may
St. Peter bless!"

In the mean time, the viceroy, who had been informed of the
ai)peaTance of the stranger knight, and that he was holding parley
with Don Quixote, hastened to the scene of aoliou, accompanied by
Don Antonio and several others ; not doubting but that it was some
new device of theirs to amnse themselves with the knight. He
arrived jost as Don Quixote had wheeled Rozinante about to take
the necessary ground tor his career, and perceiving that they were
ready for the onset, he went up and mrjuired the canse of so sudden
BD enoonnter. The knight of the ^Vhite ILoou tokt him it iras a
question of pre-eminence in beauty, and tlieo briefly repeated what
he had add to Don Quixote, mentioning the ooriditioRS of the oombat.
The viceroy ,'in a whisper to Don Antonio, asked him if he knew the
airanger knight, and whether it was some jest upon Don Quixote.
Don Antonio assured Mm, in reply, that he neither knew who he was,
EOT whether this ohallei¿0 was m jest or earnest. Puszled with
this answer, the viceroy was in doubt whether or not be should
interpose, and pierent the encounter ; but being assured it could
only De some pleasantry, be withdrew, saying, " valorous kni^lita,
if there be no choice between confession and death : if Si.mor Don
Quixote peiaists in denying, and you, Sir Knight of tbe Wlute Moon,
in aiBnning, to it, gentlemen, b Heaven's name ! "

Tbe knights made their acknowlcdgmenta to the viceroy for his
graotons permission ; and now Don Quixote, TeconuQendiiw himself
to Heaven, aad (as wual on such occasions) to bis lady Duloincs,
retired again to take n lamer compass, seeiag his adversary do the
Hke ; and without sound m bnmpet or other warlike instmmeut, to
gtre signd forthe mseti, tbay both tnnted their horaes ^ut at tite
same uutant- but he oF the White Ifoon being mmnted on the
detest steeiL met Don Quixote before he had run haU his career,
and then, without touching him with his lance, which he seemed pur-

Cty to raise, he encountered him with such impetuosity that both
a and rider came to the ground j he ttien sprang open him, and.
ahq>ping his lukoe to his viaor, he said, " iüiigbt, you are vanquisuad

STO

and ft áttá man, if ;ou oraifcss not, acooiding to tlw conditions of an
challen^."

ÜOD Quixote, bniÍMd and stunned, without lifting up hii ncor,
and as if speakine from a tomb, said in a feeble and low voiee,
" Dulcinea del Toboao is the most beautiful iroman in the world,
and I am the most unfortunate knigbt on earth, nor is it jnat
lliat mj weakneHS should discredit tbis truth ¡ knight, push on todt
lance, and take ava; mj Ufe, aince 70D have despoiled ne of mj
honour."

" Not 80, by my life! " quoth he of the WliiteMooni " long may
the beavtj and faine of the ladr Dulcinea del Toboao flourish ! All I
demand of the great Don Qaiiote is, that be submit to one year's
domeatio repose and respite from the exereise of urns."

liie *ieer07, Don Antonio, with raaaj others, wen witnesses to
all tiiat passea, and now keud Don Qaiiote promise that, since he
reqnired iKitliing of him to the prejudice of his lad; Buleine^ he
should i'alfil the t«rms of their engagemoit with the punctualitf of a
tms kniifht.

^Thisdeelaration betna: made, be of the White Moon turned about
his hiMse. sad bowing to the Ticeroy, at a half-oaUop, entered the
city, wjiitner the rioeroj ordered Don Antonio to follow him, and by
idl means to learn who he waa. They now raised Don Quixote from
tbe gronnd, and, nnoovering his face, found him pale, and bedewed
with oold sweat, and Koidniiate in súoh a pli^t tnat lie was unable
toatír.

Sanoho, <]aite sorrowfal and cast down, knew not what to do or
say; sometimes he fancied he was dreaming; at others, that Uie whole
1 affair of witchcraft and enahantment. Ue saw his master

and his hopes of (greatness scattered, Hke amokei to the wind. IndÑd

be was afraid that both horse and rider were crippled, ud hoped that

it wouhi prove no worae.

Finally, ths vanotüahed knight was cooTcyed to the d^ in

whifii had been ortt" " " ■" "■ — ' j-.i.:.ii— v

impatient for some

Doa Quixote in snoh evil pli^.

lüahéd knight was cooTcyed to the dty in Aohut
ired by the viMroy, who returned thither himself,
information ooBoeming the kni^ who had kft

CHAPTER LXVL

Don Ahtoiiio Mokebo rode into the city after the kni^t of th«
White Moon, who waa also pursued to his um by a swarm of boys:
and he had no sooner entered the chamber where his squire waiteo,
to disarm him, thaji he was greeted by the inquisitive Dbn Antonio.
CoiqoctDTing the object of His visit, be said, " 1 donbt not, eignor,
but that your daipi is to leant who I am ; and as there is no caoie
Kir eoneñlment, while my servant is nnarminv me, I will inform you,
▼itlioat reserve. K7 nan^ signor, ii the baeh^r Satoson CarraMW^

A.OO'^K

SAHCEO ctmmi» sn master. 571

and I an) of the Bsme b>ini with Dob Quixote de la UancIuL «hoaa
madness and fotly have excited the pit; of all who knew him. Í
have felt for my own part, partaenlarly oonccrsed, and, believiiDc faú
recoTenry to depend upon his remaining quietly at home, my prtgects
bare been solely directed to that end. About three montliB ago 1
saUied forth on the highway hke a knight-errant, styling myself
Knight <¿ the Mirrors, inteadinK to flglit and congner my fnend,
^nthont dpinj^ him bann, and matintr his sabmission to my will the
condition of onr combat. Never doubting of success, I expected to
send him home for twelve months, and hoped that, dnring Inat time,
he nñg:ht be testoied to his senses. But fortune ordained it other-
wise, for ha was the yictor: he tombled me from my horse, and
thereby defeated mydesign. He purmed his ionmey, and I returned
borne Tinqnished, abashed, and hnrt by my fail. HoweTer, I did not
relinquish my project, as you haxe seen this dav ; and, na be is bo
esftct and punctual in obsctvinff the laws of knight-eTraiitry, he will
doubtless obterre my hijunetions. And now, sir, I have only to beg
that yon will not discover me to Don Quixote, that my good inten-
tions mar take effect, and his understanding be restÁrcd to him,
whieh, when freed from the follies of chivalry, is excellent."

"0. sir!" eiclaimed Don Antonio, "what nave yon to a^iawet for
in Tohbin); the world of so divcrtini^ a madman ? Is it not plain, air,
that no benefit to be derived from his recovery can be set against Ijia
pieasare which his exttavaganoM afford? But I fancy, sir, his case
18 beyond the reach of your art ; and. Heaven forgive me ! I cannot
fcrbearwiihinif yon may fail inyonr endeavonra: tor by his core wo
dwnid kwe not only the pleasantries of the knight but those of hia
sguire, which are emongh to transform Melandwly herself into mirth.
^Bvertheicss, I will be silent, sod wait in the fill expectation that
S^nor Carrasco will lose hú labour." " Yet, all things considered,"
said the bachelor, "(Jw bttsmeas is is a promising way — I have oo
dmht of anooess."

Don Antonio then politely took his leave ; and that same day tbe
bachelor after having his armonr tied upon the back of a mule,
monnted his ohar^er, and (pitted the city, directing his course home-
wards, whue he amved without meeting with any adventniie on the
road worthy of a place in this faithful history. Don Antonio reBorted
his conversation with the bachelor Carrasoo to the viceroy, woo re-
gtetted that such conditions should have been imposed upon Don
Qoisote, as they might put an end to that diversion which he had so
liberally supplied to all who were acquainted with bis whimsical torn
of mind.

Dmingr six days Don Quixote kept his bed, melancholy, thonghtfol.

np a good neart, sir, and be thancfol you have come
okenm. Bemember, sir, 'they tint^tretnDsttaka,'
k hasDot its ^Usti' Ccnne, come, air— afigfortha
ve no need of faim. Let ns mck ap, and be jogging

said he, "pluck np a good heart, sir, and be thankful you have come

off wltiloai a broken rt' - ' ' -.^t- .

■nd ' every hook ha

dootorl faa have n ,, . ,

tioaiemtd, and leave this rambling up and down to seek adventmres
ihe Lord knows where—odds bodikins I after all, 1 am the greatest
loser, thongh me^hap voor worship snjfers the most ; for thoogfa,
after a taato of governing, I now loathe it, I have never hat my-
iaa^ag for im omdoni or «nrntsbip, i^cb I may whiatie for if jam

sn vas quixonc

wonhipTefiues tobeftldog, b^givmsnpkni^t-etTantrr." "Feacc^
friend Sancho," qootli Don Quixote, and lemember that mj retire-
ment íb not to exceed & yew, and then I will resume my honooraUs
profesaion, and shall not want a kLii;;dom fot myself, nor ut eaHdou
for thee." "HeaTen Brant it, andsmbedeaf!" quotASanoho; "for
I have alwajrs beea told that food ezpoctation is better than bad

Here their coaTersatiou vas intemipted b; Bon Antonio, who
entered the chamber with aigna of great joy. " Uewaid jao, Sipxr
Dob Qnitol«," said he, " fov my good news — Don Gie«orio and the
renegado are safe in the harbour— in the harbour, said 1 P — by tbis
time they are at the viceroy's palace, and will be here presentiy."
DonQuiiote seemed to revive bythis intelligence, '"firaly," said
he. " I am «linoat soiry at what yon tell me, ft»-, had it happened
otiierwise, I sliould have gone over to Barbary, where, by the fore»
of mv omi, I should have given liberty not only to Don Gregorio, but
to all the Christian captives in that land of alavov. Bat what do I
say P wrel«h that I am I Am I not vangniahed P Am I not over-
thrown? Ara I not f:»biddea to unsheaMie my sword for twelve
whole months? Why. tlien, do I promise and vaunt? A distaff
better beeomee my hand thoa a sworti ! "

"No more, sir," qnotb Sancho; "let the lien live, Ihough abe hare
the pip ; to-di^ for you, and to-morrow for me ; and, as for these
matters of encounters and bai^ nevar trouble your bead aboit
them : he that ñtUs to-day Bay rise to-nM»row ; unless he chooses to
lie in l>ed and groan, instead ra getting into hrárt and spirits, ready
for freah enconnters. Rise, dear air, aad weloome Dob Gr^orio;
for, by the bustle in tbe boose, I reokon be ia come."

And this was the faoi. Don Gregorio, aftn pjiog tbe vioeroy u
accoiait of tlie expedition, impatient to se» bis Anna Felix, hsal«Bed
with his deliverer, the renegado, toDouAmtoiuo'a house. Thefonale
dress, in which he iiad escaped, he had exchanged fbr that of a cap-
tive who had oome off with tbetn ; yet even in that disguise bis hand-
SOBU citerior eoramanded reopect and admiratioa He was yooK
too, for he seemed to be not more tkan seventeen or eighteen years of
age. Ricote and his daughter went ont to meet hkn— the father with
tears, and the daughter with modest ioj;. The youn^ couple did not
embrace; for true and ardent love ¿rinks from public freedom of
behaviour. Their beauty was universally admired, and, tbpugb tbey
spoke cot to each other, their eyes modestly revealed their joyful aad
pure emotions. The runeíraáo gave a short account of Ms voyage,
and the means be had employed to acoompiish the purpose of the
expedition ; and Dm Gre^Mño told the story of his diSouilies and
emDanassmenta, daring his cenSnemcmt, with good sense and diacre-
ti<m above hia years. Ricote fully satisDed the boatmen, as w«U as
the renegado, who was forthwith restored to the bosem of the dianb,
and from a rotten membw boeame, through penanoe and trae reprait-
tttkce, c^ean sod sound.

A few days after, the TÍoero:r and Don Antfmio consulted tceethcc
faow pemiasion mi^t be ohtaiiwd for Anna Felix and her fatW to
reside in Spain ; hemg convinced there was nothing improper in such
aa indoloenoe to so Christian a daesbter and so well-iiisposed a
jxtber. Doft Antonio offered to negotiate the aSiúr biinseU at eovrt,
having Mcasion to go Üúther npon other business; and inttmaMd

TBI BBtüSX HOUVASSS. 578

that ranch might be done there by faronr or ffold. "No," Mid
Kicote, T»ho waa present ; " there is nothinp to be CKpected from rack
means ; neither prayers, promises, nor gola, Bvail witb the great Bcr-
nardbo de "VoIbsoo, count of Salacar, vbo was charged b; the kiiw
vitli onr expulsion; and, though disposed to temper iuslicc with
mercv, yet, seeing tlie whole body o£ onr nation corrupt, instewJ of
emoUients be has applied caustica as the only remedy; thus, by his
prudence, sagacity, and vigilance, as well ns by his threats, he has
ancceasfully aoooniplished tlie great work, ia spite of the numerous
artitices of our people to evaue bis commands, or elnde his Argus
eyes, which are ever on the iratch lest anynoxious roots should Etill
lurk in the soil, to shoot up again, and poison the wholesome vege-
tation of the country : a hooic detenuination of the great f hilip lU.,
and only to be ci^ualled by his wisdom in placing the mighty iaak. in
sodi hwids."

"í)eTtTtheIes»,"KddDonAiitonio," when I arrive at court, I will
make every exertion pcwsible, and leave tlie rest to Providence. Don
Gregorio shall go with me, to console his parents for the affliction
Ihey must have suffered in bis absence ; Anna Felix shall stay at my
house with my wife, or in a monastery; and I know my lord the
viceroy wiE be pleased to entertain honest Ricote until the soccesa of
myncgotiatioube seen." The viceroy oonsented to all that was pit)-
poaed; but Bon Gregorio, on heiug informed of what bad passed,
expressed great imwíílingness to leave his fair mistress. At lengtl),
however, considering that he might return to her after be had seen
bis parents, he acquiesced; so Anna li'elix remained with Bon
Antonio's lady, and Iticote in the mansion of the viceroy.

The time fixed for Don Antonio's departure now arrived, and many
■ghs, tears, and other expressions of passionate sorrow, attended the
separation of the lovers. Bicote offered Bon Gregorio a thousand
crowns, bnt he declined them, and aci^pted only the loan of five from
Bon Antonio. Two days afterwards, Don Quixote, who had hitherto
been unable to travel, <»i acoouot of his bniises, set forward on bis
ionmeyhome, Sani^ trudging after him on foot— because B^ple
ires now employedm btaiuig his nastcr's aciBour.

CHAPTEB LXVU.

As Don Quixote was ieaving the city of Barceboa, he cast his eyes
to the spot whereon he bad been defeated ■. and pansing, he cried :
—"There stood Troy! There my evil destiny, not cowardice,
despoiled me of my glory ; there I experietioea the Scklenesa oi
forüine : there the lustre of my exploits was obscured ; and, lastly.
Fell my happiness, never more torisel" Upon which Sancho
., him, "' Great hearts, dear sir, should be ™ii™t nnder misfor-
), as well as joyful when all goes well ; a

said to him. Great hearts, dear sir, should be palii

tmies, as well as joyful when all goes well ; and in that I jndge by

myaeu : for wiien I was made a governor, I «as blitbe and merry, and

A.OOgK

ix»F fpiaaa.

ñor that I ant a poor sqain on foot, I kin ni .

that she ther call Fortune is a dcnnken, freakiili danuL and -mtiai m
blind t]ut she doea not see what she ú aboati neitner whom ifae
raÜM, nor tvhom she pulls down."

"Tdou art nucfa of a t^ilosopher, Sancho." said I>im Qaixole,
" and hast spnkeu TCr;r judicúousl]'. Whoe thou hast learned it, I
know not ; but one thing I muat lell tiiee, which ia, that there i* bo
auch thin^ in the world as fortune, nor do the érenla which bik oat,
whether fim)d or evil, proceed from chance, bnt br the partioalar
apptHntment of Heaven; sndhence comes Uiesarin^UMtereryBiaBis
themaker of his own fortune. 1 have been so of mine; but, not aetOfr
with all the prudence oecesaary, my presumption baa undone aie. I
ovgbt to have lecolleeted that the tEeble RÓeioante was sot « ontcfa
for the powerful steed of the knight of the White Uoon. Howvkt,
I ventured ; 1 did my be»t : I was overthrown ; and. tbonsfa I loit
mj iiwr, 1 still retain ni? inte^ty, and therefore iliaU not fail in tdj
promise. AVhcn I was a knight, darinir and valisnt, mr arma gmre
credit to mf exploits -. and, now that I am eoly a diamonated aqniB,
mr word at least shall be respected. Maroh on thea, friesd Saaeb),
and let ue jnca at home the year of ooi noviciate : hf whiiA reteeai ve
sball acquire fresh vigour to retuni to the narer-by-me-to-be-iargiitteB
exercise of arma."

"Sir," replied Sancho, as he trotted bj his side, "tbia w^ of
marohing is not so pleasant that I mnal needs be in snch baatei let
us hang l^is annour npon some tree, like the thieves we ses ante
dangling, and, when 1 am mounted again npon Dapfjle, with mf feet
from the ground, we will trovel at any pace year woi^p p'

bnt to think that I can foot it all the way at this mte is to expact
' ' " " 1 appnive thy advice, Sanclio," answered Duo
I ahall be auspended as a trophy ; and beanutí)

or round it. we will carve on the tree that whidi was written oo tbe
trophy of Orlando's anna : —

, ncua praaum*

tliiy daie not prora."

"'IWisjnstB3l'iroitldliaTeit,"(MiothSaacbo; "an^wenitnot
for a» irant of BAzinante on the road, it would not be amisa to bare
bim dangling too." "Mowl think of it," said Son Quixote, "neater
bim nor the amour wilt I suffertobe han|ffid,that it aay not beaaicL
' For good aervioe, bad recompense.' " " ítóth, that is well too," aiád
Sancho, " for 'tis a eayina among the wise, that the fault of tbe ass
ahoold not be laid on the pock-saddle ; and, since yotu: worAip-is
alone to blame in this bnsiaeee, pnnish vourself, and let not your rage
bll upon the poor annour, battered ana bruised in your aervioe ; nor
npwL jmur meek and gentle beast tbst oaniea yoa, nor yet iqwn my
tendu feet ; makii^ tbem svSbr more tbaii feet eaa bear."

In Bueb like disoonrse they }>ossed all that day, and even fbnr notv,
wirhout meetiiK enytbing to impede thdr joamey : bat on tbe fifth,
it being a hoUday, ai thef entered a village, tbey obeerved a i^cat
nnmber of people regaling themselves at the door of an inn. When
Don Quixote and Smcho drew new to them, a peasant said aiood to
the rest, " One of theee two gentlemen wba are comtng this war, and
who know not the patties, slüU deoiiit o«tr wxgec." " That I mU do

TEK vauaxaef taobe. Gf5

vith kll mr heart," msirered Don Quixote "and meet imputiatt/,
when I am made acquainted with it. " Wny the bosinesa, good sir,
is thu," qnotii tlie peaaant ; " an inhabitant of our rilla^, vho i« so
eorpalent that hs weighs eleven arrobas, has challenged a neishboor,
who weighs not above five, to run nilh bim a hnndred jams, Tipoii
oondition of canrins equal weight. Now, he that gare the challenge,
being askca how theweight should he made equal, saysthat the other,
who weighs bat five arrobas, rfiould carry a weight of six mote, and
then both lean and fat vili be equal." "Not so^" qnoth Sancho,
before Don Quixote could return an answer; "and it is tn? business,
who was so kteij a governor and judge, as all the world knows, to
set this matter right, and give my opinion in all disputes." In
Heaven's name, do so," said Don Quixote ; " for I am unfit to throw
ormnbs to a oat^ mj brain is so troubled and oot of order."

With tbis license, Sancho addressed the conntrj^fellows who
crowded about him : " ürothets," said he, " I must tell yon the fat
man is wron^ ; there is no manner of reason in what he asks ; for, if
tile custom is fair for him that is challenged to dioose his we&pons, it
nnst be unjust for the other to make him take such as will tre sure
to hinder him from gniningthevictorj; and therefore mj sentence is
that the fat man, who gave the challenge, should cot, pare, slice, and
shave away the flesh from such parts of bis body as can best spare it,
and when he has broe^t it down to the weight of five arroba, then
will be be a &ir matoh for the other, and they may race it apon eren
tcTDis." "I vow," quoth one of the peasants, "this gentleman has
Bpokenliteasaint,Bn(l^ven sentenoelike a cauon; but 1 warrant Üie
At fellow loves his flesh too well to part with a sliver of it, much less
wUh the weight of sii arrobas." " Then the beat way," qooth another
c^ the countrymen. " will be not to ran at all ' for then neither )e«n
will break ha back with the weight, not fat loose flesh ; but let ns
Bi>end half the wager in wine, and take these gentlemen to share it
with us in the tavern that hae the best ; so ' Give me the cloak when
it rains.' " " I mtum yon thanks, gentlemen, for your kind proposaL"
answered Don Quixote, "hut I cannot accept it; for melancholy
thoughts, and disastrous events, oblige me to travel in haste, and to
appear thus uncivil."

Whereupon, clappng ^nrs to Roainante, lie departed, leaving
them in surprise botu at the strangeness of bis figure, and tne acute-
■ nesB of bira whom they took to be his servant. " If the man be so
wise," said oneof theni, " heavem bless us! what mnet liis master be?
If they go to study at Salamanca, my life for it, they will become judjres
at a court in a tncs. Nothing mon easy — it wants only hard atudv,
good luck, and favour, and when a man least thinks of it, he flius
lumieif with a white tod in nis hand, or a mitre on his head."

That ni^t tbe master and man t«>k up their kideing in the mid(Be
of a field, nnder títe spangled roof of heaven ; and the next day, while
pursuing thñrjonmey, they saw a roan coming towards tbem on foot,
with awallet about his neck, and a iavdin, or half-pike, in his hand —
the proper equimnent of a foot-post; who, when be had got near .
them, quickened liis pace, and, running up to Don Qnixote, embraoed
his ngnt thjfth— for he could reach no higher, — and, testifying great
jc^, he said, " Oh ! Signor Don Quiote de la Manoha I how r^oiced
will my lord diie be when he hears that your worship is retatmug to
his oa^ where he still lemaiaa with, my lady duchess I "

,, .A.OOgIC

676 DOS qtmoTE.

"I know you not, friend," answered Don Qiuiot«; "nor can I
conceive who you are, unless jou tell me." " Signer Don Quixote,"
answered the courier, " 1 am Tosilos, the date's larquey ; the some
who would not fight with vour worship about Donna Itodrigucz'
daughter." "Heaven dcfena me!" eiclaimcd Don Quixote, are
vou he whom the enobanteri my enemies, transformed into the
lacquey, to defraud nie of the glory of that combat ?" " SoCilj, good
sir, rcphed the messenser; "there was neither enchantment nor
change m the case. Tosilos, the lacquey, I entered the lists, and the
same I came out. 1 refused fighting, because I had a mind to marry
the girl ; bat it turned out quite otherwise : for your worship had no
sooner left the castle than, instead of a wife, 1 got a sound banging,
by mj lord duke's order, tor not doing as he wouhl have had me in
that affair; and the end of it all is, that the fnrl is turned nun, and
Donna Bodrierucz packed ofT to Castile; and 1 am now goin^ to
Barcelona witli a packet of letters from my hird to the viceroy ; and if

£Dur worship will please to tale a little of the dear creature, I have
ere a calabash full at your service, with a slice of good cheese that
will awaken thirst, if it he sleeping." " I take you at your word,"
(luoth Sancho ; "and. without more ado, let ns be at it, good Tosiloat
in agite of all the encnanters in Ibe Indies."
ruth, Sancho," qaoth Don Quixote,
treover, the greatest simpleton on «uui, lu uuuul hu

is enchanted, and a counterfeit Tosih». But, if thou ai

upon it^ stay, in Heaven's name, and cat thy fill, while I go on slowly,
and wait ihy coming." The lacquey laughed, unsheathed his calabasa,
and uawalleted his cheese ; and takmg out a little loaf, he nnd Stncbo
sat down upon the grase, and in peace and good-fellowsiiip quickly
despatched the coatents, and got to the bottom of the provislon-bag,
with so good an appetite that they licked the very paccet of letten
because it smelt of clieese.

While they were thus employed, " Hang me, friend Sancho," md
Tosilos " if I know what to make of that master of yoiin — he mnst
needs be a madman," "Need ! " quoth Sancho; "faith, he has no
need! for, if madness pass cnrrent, he ha? plenty to pay every man bis
own. That I can see full well, and full often I teU him of it; bntwhai
boots it !— especially now that it is all over with him ; for he hu been
worsted by the knight of the IVhite Moon."

Tosilos begged nim to relate what had happened to him ; but
Sancho excused himself, saying it would be niunumerly to ke^ his
master waiting ; hut that, another time, if they should meet again, iñ
would tell him the whole affair. He then rose up, shook the cmmht
from his beard and apparel, and took leave of Tosilos, then driving
Dapple before him, he set off U> overtake his master, wttotn he towi
waitmg for him under the shade of a tree.

UignieUb, Google

CHAPTER LXVIH.

Qf til rttolntia», lehiA Don QuixrtU toot to dim ihtphtrd, amd Uad a
jxutOTol lift, tilt tkt pTomiitd (m Aould bt txpind; «iM vtier
HCÚjnUí bWjr divériiiif aitd goad.

If the mind of Don QniKote had been alSicted and disturbed befon
his defM^liow gnstly wnc his sufferings iacnwed after Uut misfor-
tSDel WbilswwtínK for Sancho, « befóte raratioued, a thoasaad
tíuvghts rnstied mto nis head, bouing aboat like fliee in a hm^-pot ;
oome dweUing' on the (ÜBenchantDieQt ot Dokánea. sod oUien on the
life he shotdd lead duriiw his forced cetirement. On Saaobo'a oomins
np,a)idooinmendÍBgToal«sS9 the chnlestlAOqoey in the world, "bn
poaaU^ Saacbo," said he, " that Uion shooMn still persist in his being
reaUj a iheqaey f It seems to bare quite escaped th; memory that than
hast seen Xhildni ~ ' ' o a oount^ wench, and the Kiught

(á the Minors ii iamsoa Cúrasco :— all the work of

■nsn tooohtDK til mF Doth she still bewail m; ab-

sence ; at hatb sh id to oblirion the amwoua thoughts

that tormented li resent ? "

" Troth, sir," < w» too well emplofed to think i^

such foolóies. . OUT worship now in a condition to

be inqniring afte ¡Bhts— enpecially on lore matters F "

"Observe, Sane! . . Siüxote, there is a neat d«al of

difference between love and gratitude. It is verf possible for a gen-
ÜBman not to be in love : bnt, strictlr speaking, it is imposaible be
^oold be ongrateñil. Altisidora, to all appearance, loved me ; she
gave me three nightcaps, as thou knowrait : she also wept at my
departnre : she oiuaed me, vilified me. and, in ^iite of shame, com-
plained public^ of me : certain proofs that she adored me; for in
such maledictions the anger of lovers asuallf tcdÍs itaelf. I had
neither hopes to give her, nor treasures to offer her ; for mine are all
eaxa^d to Doicinea ; and the treasuree of knights-errant, like tbose
of Tairiea, aie delusorr,nat real, and, tberefore, to retain her in remem-
brance is all I can do for her, without i^ejudice to the Gdelitr I owe t«
the mistress of mj soul, wbo ever; moment suffers under thf cruelty
in neglecting to discipline that flesh of tbine — would to Heaven
the wolves had it ! since thoo wouldat tsthtv keep it for the worms,
than appl; it to the relief of tbat poor lodf ."

" Sir, answered Sancho, " to deal nlamlv with jou, I cannot see
what the lashing of my body has to do with disenchanting the en-
chanted; it is just as if yon should say, 'When your head acbes,
anoint yonr knee-pans ; ' at least, I dare oe sworn that, of all the his-
tories yonr worship has ever read of knight-errantry, ni
— -i- — L-j^ being unbewitched by flogging. Howevi

be humour takes me, and time fits, I'll -_. -^-- -.
0 some tune." "Heaven grant," said Don Quixote,

A.OOgIC

GTS DOR qtnxoTE.

" Emd grte tliee gnoe to imdent&nd bov much it is tb^ dnty to
relieve my lady, who is also thine, since Ihoa belongest U ne."

'Thus conversing, they traTelled on till th^ anived at the rer; spot
where the; had been trampled ujion by the bulb. Don Qniñrfa
recoüecting it, " There, Suncho." said he, " is the meadow where we
met the gay sbepherdeases and gallant ^epberda who proposed to
revift-, in this ^ace, another pastoral Arcadia. The project was
equally new and ingenious, and if thou thinkeat well of it, Sancho, we
will follow their eiample. and turn shepherds : at least tor the tenn
of my retirement. I will buy sheep, and whatever is necessary for a
pastoral life ; and I, assiimine the name of the shqjherd Qaixoti^
and Ihou that of the shepherd Panzino. we will range the wood^ (be
lulls, and the valleys, singing here, aita sigbii^ Ihere ; drinking m>m
the dear springs, or Kmpid brooks, or the mighty rivers ; while tke
oaka, with libera! hand, shall give us their sweetest fruit— the boHow
cork-trees, lod™^— wiÜowa, tlieir shade— and the roses, their ddigfat-
fol perfume. The spacious meads shall be our cw^et» of a tboosuMl
colours ; and, ever breathing' the clear, pore air, the moon and stan
shall be our ta^iers of the nig-ht, ana light our evening wstk : and
thus, while singing will be oar nleasure, and complaining our doigbt,
the god of song will provide baraiouioos verse, and We a new-
failins theme— so shall our fame be eternal as our song ! "

"lore gad \ " quoth Sancho, "that kind of life squares and oca'nera
with me exactly; and 1 warrant if once the bachelor SamM» Car-
rasca and Uoster Nicholas the barber, catch a ghmpse of it, tber
will follow us, and turn shepherds too : and Heaven grant that the
priest have not an inclination to make one in the fold— bo b so gay
and merrily inclined." "Thou sayest well," quoth Don Quitóte;
" and if the bachelor Samson Carrasco will make one amongst us, as
I doubt not he will, he may call himself the shepherd Samaonino, or
Carrascon. Master Nicholas the barber may be called Nicnloso, aa
old Boscan called himself Nomcroso, As fat the curate, I know not
what name to bestow upon him, unless it can be one denved from bis
profession, calling him the shepherd Curiambro, As to the shephod-
esses, who are to be the objects of our love, we mav pick md choOM
their names, as we do pears ; and, smce that of mv lady accords alike
with a shepherdess and a princess, 1 need not be at the pains of
eeleetiug one to suit her better. Thon, Sancho, mayest give to Oaat
whatever name pleaseth Tliee best." "Ido not int«ii" answeitd
Saucbo, " to give mine any other than Teresona, which will fit her
fat sides well ; and is so near her own, too, that, when I come to pat
it in my verses, everybody will know her to be mv own wife, and ecsn-
mend me for not coveting other men's goods, ana seeking for better
bread than wheaten. As for the priest, he most be content withont
a mistress, for good example's sake ; and, if the bachelor Samsoa
wants one, his soul is his own."

" Heaven defend me ! " quoth Don Quixote. " what a Ufe shall we
lead, friend Sancho ! irhat a melody we shall have of b^pipe« and
rebecks, and pipes of Zamora ! And, if to all this we add the alboenes,
our pastoral uand will be nearly complete." "Allx^uee!" qooth
Sancho, " what may that be P I never heard of such a thing."
"Albc^ues," answered Don Quixote, "are concave plates of brass,
like candlesticks, which, beinf- struct against each other, prodace a
sound, not rery agreeable, it is true, yet not offenuve, and it aocoids

" A.OOgIC

BIS FLXISANT SUOOOBO WITH UITCBO. 670

mU «whibIi with the rosticit; of the pipe «nd tab... __ . .
Sancho, ii a Mooriih iron], as are bU those which in Spaniah dÍ_„^
vithai: uAhDoau,Alinonar,AlhombT^ Alguacil, Aliueina,Akifteeii,
Alcaucia, with some others j out language has anlj three Moorish
words eóding- in i, which are, Borzcgaj, Zaquizamo, and Maravedí ;
Alheli and Alfaqui, both by their besinoing and ending, aro known to
be Arabic. Thl9 I just observe by the way, as the mention ij
Albognea brought it to my mind. One circumstance will contribute
much bi make us perfect m our new profession, which is niy being, as
Ihoo well knowest, somewhat of a poet, and the bachelor Samson
Cairaaco an exoeflent one. Of the pnest I will say nothing ; jet
will I ventnte a wager that he too has the pointa of a poet : and
Uaster fjicbolaa the barber, alio, I make no doubt ; for most or all
of tbat Eaoulty are playera on the guitar, and song-makera. I wiU
oomnlain of absence ; thou «halt extol thyself for constancy ; the
ihepberdCarrascon ehallcomplainofdisdainj and the priest Cunúnbio
may say or sing whatever he pleaseth : and eo we sball go on to our
hearts' content."

" Alas I air," qnoth Sancho, " I am bo nnlaokr that I ihall nerer
see those ble«sed days ! 0 what neat wooden spoons shall I make
when I am B shepherd ! 'Whatcurdaandcream! wnatgarlandsj what

6 retty nick-nacks 1 An olddoglam at these trinkum8,wliicLtbougíi
ley may not set me up for one of the seven wiae men, will get me
the name of a dever fellow. My daughter Sanchina shall bring
ova dinner to lu in the field— but hold there : she's a sightly wenob,
■nd shepherds are sometimes roguishly given ; and I would not have
taj girl go oat for wool and come back soom. Your love-doinge and
wanton tricks are as common in the open fields as in crowded dtáes ;
in the shepherd's cot as in the palacea of lords and princes. Take
away the opportunity, and yon tue Awaf the Bin ¡ what the eye views
not, the heart rues not; aleap&om behind a buiui may do more thou
the ^ycr of a good man."

"Enough, Sancho, no more proverbs," quoth Don Quixote, "for
any one of those thou bast cited woiUd bave been sufiicient to express
thy meaning. 1 have often advised tbee not to be so prodigal of these
sentenoes, and to keep a strict hand over them ¡ but it is preacliing in
the desert: 'the more my mother whips me, the more I rend and
tear.'"

is not that the pot calljng

. , jg proverbs, andyoustring

tbem TOureelf by scores."

"Observe, Swicho," answered Don Quixote, "this important dif-
ference between thy proverbs and mine : when I make use of tbem

,:jet

_.___ _, ._. . ^ :ti

proverb which is not aptly applied, instead of being wisdom is staA
nonsense. But enough of this at present ; as niglit approache^let
us retire a little way out of the high-road to pass the night, and God
knows wiiat to-morrow may bring us."

ITiey accordingly retired, and made a Ute and scanty supper, much
against Sanclio's inolination, for it brought the hardships of knight-
erraotí; fresh upon his thoughts, and lie grieved to think how seldom

S80 Don qtuxotb.

be enommtered Üie pleoty that reined in th« house of Don Diego ds
Miranda, ftt the iNdditu; of the ndi Camadio, and at Don AntOM»
Moreuo's ; bnt again rraecting that it oookl not be alvajs daj, sor
always night, he Betook hiuMdi to sleep, leaving hia mastec UtougÉit
falúdaWAhe.

. CHAPTER LXIX. ,

Of H« írúC^y a>J«wlwit vkiA tffM Da» (imixoU.

The night wm rather dark, for thongh the moon ■
heaTens, it ms not visible : Madam Diana is wont sometíi

a trip to the antipodes, aod leave the mountaina and vallefs in the
daik.

Don Quixote foUowed nature, lod being satiafled with his flnt
sleep, did not s(diint more. As for Sancho, he never wanted a second,
(br toe first lasted him from night to mominic: isdieatñw asoiiiM
bod; and mind free from care ; bat bis master, oeiiig unable to rie«)i
hnnsdf, awakened bim, saTÍng, " I am amazed, Sancho, at the toipor
of thy soul; it seems as if than wert made of marble or brass, insen-
sible of emotion or sentiment ! I wake whilst thou sleepeat, 1 mo«ra
whilst thou art singing, I faint with long bating, whilst thoa aont
hanUr move or breathe ftom pure gluttony 1 It ib the part of a good
servant to share his master's pains, and, were it but for deoeiuy, to
be tondied with what affieots him. Behold the serenity of the night
and the solitude of the place, inviting us to intermingle some watch-
ing with our sleep ; get np, good Sancho, I oofyure thee, and retire a
short dtstanoe from bence, and, with a willing heart and gnilefnl
ooung& inflict on thyself tbree or four hundred lashes, upon the
score 01 Dulciuea's disenchantment; and this I aak as a favour. I
will not oome to wresUing with thee again, for I know thou hast m
heav7 hand ; and that bei^ done, we will ¡utss the remainder of tba
night in singing — I d absenoe, thoa of oonstanoy ; commenoing from
this moment tbe pastil occupation which we are henoeforth to
iWlow."

" Sir," answered SaniAo^ " I am neither monk nor ftiar, to atvt
npin the middle of the night and discipline myself at vaA nrte;
neither do I think it would bo an easy matter to be under the rod one
moment, and the next to b^in singing. T^ not of whipping, I
beseech you, sir, and let me Bleep, or you will make me swear nerer
lo touch a luir of my coat, much less of my flesh." " Ü thon soul el
fliut ! " cried Don Quixote ; " O remorseless stiuire I O bread ill-
bestowed I A poor requital for favours already conferred and those
intended 1 Through me thou hast been a governor; through me art
thou in a fair way to have the title of an earl, or some otiier equally
honourable, and which will be delayed no longer than this year «
obscurity ; for Pott tenebrat tpero ¡ueea."

" 1 know not what that means/' replied Sancho ; " I ody know that
while I am asleep I have neither fear nor hope, nor trouble nor
llory. Bdessiugs G^t on him who flnt invented sleep l-Mt oovet* a

THE VICTOKIOHa SWIVE. ESI

mas aU over, body and mind, like a cloak ; it is meat to the hungry,
dnnk to the thiñty, heat to the cold, and coM to the hot : it is the
ccdn thftt can irarchaw all thiiun : the balanoe that makes the ehep-
herd eqoal with the kiim, the fool with the wise man. It has only
one faolt as I have heard say, which is, that it looks like death ; for
between the sleeper and the corpse there is bat little to choose."

"Inerer heard thee talk so eloqneotly, Sancho," qnoth Don
Qoiiote, " which prorea to me the truth of that )inivcrh thon often
luist cited : ' Not with whom thon art bred, but with whom thoa art
fed.' " " Odds my life, air !" replied Sancho, " it is not 1 alone that
am a stringer ot prorerbs— the joome pourmg from your worship's
mouth faster than from mine. lonr worship's, 1 own, may be more
pat than mine, which tumble ont at random : yet no matter — they are
aUproverhe."

'Thos were they eDgap^ when they heard a strange, doll hind of
noise, with harsh sounds, ¡saning from every part of the Talley. Don
Quixote started op, and laid his hand to his sword ; and Sandio

Soatted down nnder Dapple, and fortified himself with the bundle
armoor on one side of bim, and the ass's panuel on the other,
tremhlingr no less with fear thúi Don Qoiiote with stuprise. Bveir
moment the noise inoreased as the causeof it approached, to the great
terror of oue at least — for the ootuage of the other is too well known
to be suspected. Now the oaose of this feaifnl din was this ¡—some
hoB-dealers, eaxer to reach the market, ha^wned at that early hour
to oe driving above six hnndred of these creatam ahnw the road to
a fur, where they were to be sold; whidi filthy herd, with their
grunting and squeaking, made such a horrible noise that both the
bught and aqoira were stunned and confoonded, and uttetly at a loss
how to account for it.

The wide-spreadinir host of gnint«n eame crowding on, and, with-
out showing the ■maHeat decree of reelect for the lofty diariót«r of
Don Quixote or of Sanobo his squire, threw down both master «nd
man, demolishing Sancho's entrenohment. and laying- eren Ilozinant«
in the dust ! On they went, and bore all before them, overthrowiog
paek^addle, armour, knight, squire, horse, aiid all; treading and
(tampling over everything withont remoree. Sancho with some dif-
&ulty reoovered his legs, and desired bis nuater to lend him his
BTOrd, that he might slay half a dozen at least of those unmannerly
■wine— for he haa now Moovered what they were ; but Don Qnixote
admoni^d him not to hurt them. "Heaven," said he, "hat
* "' ' ' 'his disgrace upon my guilty head: it is no more than a jost
it that do^ should derour, hornets sting, and hogs trample
liahod knight-errnnt."

o a vanoauhM km
"And Heaven, I
nd bite, and fannf

bite, «id hunger £) Aumsh us poor sqniree, for keejnng si

knighta company. If wo squires were the sons of the knights we
serve, or their kinsmen, it woold be no wonder that we shoidd share
in their punishments, even to the third and fontth generation : but
what have the Panzas to do with the Quixotes P Well, let us to our
litter a^in, and try to sleep ont the little that is left of the nitht,
«id Qod will send daylight, and m^rhap better busk." " Sleep thou,
Bancho," said Don Quixote, " who wert bom to daep, whilst I, who
was bora to watdi, aUow my thoughts, till aajistefk, to range, and
gire a tuneful rent to tny soiiow in alittle madrigal which I have just
A.OOgIC

composed." "MetUnks," quoth Sancho, "tliat « mmi emiijot be
suffering much when he can turn his hrain to verse-miikinsr. How-
efer, madriifal it m mnch aa yo\a worship pleases, and I will sleep as
much OS I can." Then measoring off what ground be wanted, he
rolled himself up and fell into a sound sleep ; neither debt», bails, w»
tTooblca of any kind, disturbed him. Don Qniiote, leaning against
a beech or corle tree (for Cid Hamete Benenieli does not specif the
tree), to the music of nis own sighs sang as lollows : —

O, lore, wbBO, liok of Iwutftlt gilef^
I li^, and drag thy omsl (diain.

To death I flv, the nam relief
OC tboM who groao in ling'ring pain.

Bo^ Cominz to tbe fatal gat«,

llie port ID this mr lea of woa>
Thei(>7 I feel new lift ureaCei^

And bids mj spiriU briikar flow.

Thus dying erery hour I live.

And liriiig I reiign my breath :
Strange poirsr of Iots, Uiat tlnn san gire

A D^K life and Uiing deaUi I

sighs md tears that accompanied this timefiil lamestft-

' ' ' the knight was affected by his Ute disaster

lady. Daylight now appfáied, and the saa

PR Sancho'» face, at last awoke him ; where-

.emain

darting his beams foil on Bancho's face, at last awoke him ; where-
upon mbbing his eyes, yawning, and stretching his limbs, he per-
ceived the swinish hkvoo made m his cnpboard, and heartinr wished
the droTS at the devil, and even went further than thu in hii

The knight and squire now started «gain, and joumejed on through
the whole of that day, when towards evening they saw about half a
n horseWk, and four or five on foot, makmg directly
Don Quixote was muoh agitated bj the sigb'

, ho trembled with few; for thev were aimed w

andshields, and other warhke implements. Ah, Bsncho,"

Qoixote, " had I my hands at bberty, 1 would make n

hostile squadron than if it w~ ' ' ~ '—

matt«rsmay nr" " ' '
came up, and
Et threatening

pn»oneTs._ Ol__. ^ „ „„ ._ r-.

commanding Don Qiiiiote to be mute, seiied on Roiinante's bridle,
and drew him ont of the road ; while the others, in like manner, took
possession of Dapple and his rider, and the whole then moved on in
ailence. Don Qniiote several times would have inquired whither
they meant to tue him, but soveely had he moved his lips to speak,
when they were ready to close them with the points of their ^)ean.
And so it was with Sancho : no sooner did he show nn inclination to
Speak than one of those on foot pricked him with a goad, driving
Dapple in the same manner, as if he also wished to speak.

Kigbt advancing tbey qoickened their pace, and the fearof the
pruonen likewise uKTeued^ eapedally when they heard tbe Mlowi

sandaiimMijtotfaBB, "Oa.on.reTro^odytaal fCMe,

nba

HIS HOST TBBIUBU ADTBKTTIBE. GSS

bviao alares ! Par, jre Anthiopoptu^ñ ! Complaionot, yeScfthians!
Open not your eyea, tc uurderous PolypTienmses— ye bntcherlr

lioua!" ffithtiiese and other such names Uie.v torincnlcd the ears
of the uuhanjiy master wid man. Sancho weut alon; muHcring to
himself—" TV hat I call us ortolana! harbcra ! slaves! Andrew popin-

efS ! and Polly fiunouses !— I don't like the sound of such names— a
id wind this to winnow our com; miicliief has been lowt^ring- upon
us of late, and noir it falls thick, like kicks t« a cur. It looks ill,
God seud it may not end worse ! " Don Qaiiote proceeded onwards,
quite confoaaded at the reproachful nainea that «ere given to hiim
and he conld only CKinclnae that yp aood was to be expected, and
much harm to be feared. In this perplcxiiiK sitnatioii, about an hour
after nightfall, they arrired at a caatle, which Don Quixote presently
recollected to be that belouging to the duke, where he had laWly
been. " Hearen defend me ! said he, as soon as he knew the plaoe,
" what cao this mean F In this house all is courtesy and kindness 1 —
but, Ui the vanqnished, good is cooverted into bad. bad into worse."
On entering the principal court, theT saw it decorated and set ont in
» manner tW added still more to tteir fears, as well as th^ asto-
nishment, as will be seen in the following chaptei.

CHAPTER LXX.

No sooner had the horsemen a%hted than, assisted by those on
foot, they seized Don Quixote and Sancho in their anus, and placed
them in the midst of the court ; where a himdred torches, an J above
£va hnndred other lights, dispersed in the galleries around, set the
whole in a blaze; insomuch that, m snite of the darkness of the
night, it appeared like day. In the middle of the court was erected
a tomb, sa feet from the ground, aitd over it was spread a large
cnnopy of black velvet ; round which, upon its steps, were burning
above a hnndred wax tapers in silver canaiesÜcks. On the tomb was
visible the corpse of a damscL so beautiful as to make death itself
appear lovely. Her head was laid upon a cushion of gold brocade,
crowned with a garland of flagrant flowers, and in her hands, wLicn
were laid crosswise upon her breast, was placed a green branch of
victorious paJm. On one side of the court was erected a theatre,
where two personwcs were seated, «hose ctowns on their he«ds ana
aceptes in their Wds denoted them to be kings, either real or
fei^ied. On the side of Ihe theab«, which was ascended by steps,
were two otíier seat^ upon which Don Quixote and Sancbo were
placed. This was perionued in profoond silence, and by signs thev
were botíi given to aBderetand tbiiy were to bold their peace : though
the caution was needless for sstMushtnent hod tied ui> ihúr tongues.

Two gieat persons now ascended the theatre with a numerous
retinue, and srát«d themselves in two chairs oF state, close to thos«
who seemed to be numarob*. These Dcm Quixote immediately knew

684 DON QÜTXOTB.

to be the dnke and dnohesB who had so noblj entertaned Imn.
Kyetjttíag he saw filled Mm with wonder, and nothing; more thaa
his discorerf that the cone lying extauled on the tomb was that tí
the fair Altiaidora I When the duke and dacbess bad taken tbeir
places, Don Quixote and Sancho rose up, and made them a profound
reverence, which their hi^-hnesses returned hj a slight iudinalioD of
the bead, Imniediatelr after, an officer crossed the area, and, Bíáag
up to Sancho, threw over him a robe of U»iA buckrun, paintea orer
with fiames, and, tAkinc^ off his cap, he put on bis bead a pasteboanl
mitre, three feet high, like those used hj the penitenta of the Iniuisi-
ttoui btddins hini, in a whisper, not to open his lipa, otherwise be
vouU be either KagKed or slam. Bsnoho viewed himsof fimn top to
toe, and saw his body covered with flames : but, finding tbe^ did not
buni Tiitn he cared sot two straws. He took off Ids mitre, and a«v
it paintM all over with devils ; but be replaced it again od his bead,
saying within himself, " All is well enough vet j these flames do mat
bum, nor do these imps fly away with me. Don Quixote aleo snr-
ve^ him, und in spite of his perturbation he eodd not Ibrbw
iDulinx at hia strange appearance.

And now, is the midst of that profound silence (fot not a beatli
was heard), a soft and pleasing sound of flutes stiue upon the ear,

seeaibg to proceed from the tomb. Then, o" - —■'■'-- "—

couch of the dead body, ^)peHed a beautiful yo
who, in a sweet and clear voice, to the sound u
toncbed himself, sang the two following stanzas

Till HeaVn in pity to tho weeping wtnld.
Shall give Altiudora bock to dav.
By QuiiDte's worn Co realiua of Pinto burrd,
Bor every cliarm to cruel death a prey ;
While macrons Uirov their gnrnom robes away.
To moum ■ nyrnpb by ooJd disdain betray'd ;
To the oempLniijiiig lyre's enohantzi^ lay,
I'll ung the praisas of Chi* liaplae maid,
In iweeUr noteH than Thractan Oipbaiu « v play'd.

Nor shall my numbors with my lifb eipire.
Or thia world's light oonflnu Che bumidless song ;
To thee, bright maid, in death 111 touch Che lyre.
And to my son) tlie theme ahnll still belong.
When, freed Irom olay, the flitting ghtala among,

My Bjdrit glidi— ''■- "' — ' ' '

Though the a.

— ^ead, S3 the ignorant world believes, but still living in the breath
of fame, and through the penance which Sancho Panza, here present,
must undergo, in order to restore her to light: and therefore, 0
Bbadajnaothus ! who. with mt, ^udeest in the dark caverns of Pluto^
smce Ibou knowest all that destiny nus decreed touching the restora-
tion of this damsel, speak — declare it immediately ¡ dot ddi^ the
promised felicity of ber return to the world."
Soarceiy bad Minos cease^ when BJudauanlbus, Blaiting up, crie^

A.OOgIC

SAKCHO'a TEXAXCB. S8B

" Ho, there ! ;e mimsters and offioen of the hoiuehold, high and bw,
neat and small I Froceedre,oi]eafter another,aadmarkmeSaDeho's
&ce with four-aud'tireDL/ twit^es, and let his arms and sides Wve
twelve, aad thrust therem ait times the pin's sharp point : for in the
doe perfoimance of this ceiemon; dependa the reatoration of that

Banoho, hearing this, could hold ont no lonfier. " I tow to
Heaven," cried he, '' I will sooner turn Turk than let mj Qeab be so
handled ! Both of me ! how is the mauling of mj visage to give life
to the dead t 'The old woman haa had a taste, and now her mouth
waters.' Dulcinea is enchanted, and to nnbewiteh her I mnst he
whipped ! and now here Altisidora dice of soine disease ttiat Ciod haa
sent W, and, to hrin^ her Ut life again, loj flesh must he tweaked
and pinched, and coma^-piua thrust into my bod; I No, pni these
tri^ uptm a brothers-law : I am an old dog, aad am not to be
coaxed with a crust."

"Belentl" said Rhadamanthna, in a lond voice, "relent, tiger, or
thou dieet ! Submit, ptood Nimrod ! sufTer, and be silent, monat«r !
Impossibilities arc not requiied of thee : then talk not ai difficnltiea.
Twitched thou shalt be ; pricked thou BOalt feel thyself, and piiu^ed
even to groaning. Ho, there ! offioers do your duty— or, cm the word
of an himeat mail, thy destiny shall be fulfilled !"

Immediately six duennai wen seen adraocing in proceasbn aloi^
the court, four of tliem with spectades, and all of them with their
right hands raised, and four fingers' breadth of their wrist bared, to
make their hands seem the longer, according to the fashion. No
sooner had Sancho got a glimpse of his exccationers than, bellowing
aloud, he cried, " Do with me whatever you please : pour over me a
sackful of mad cats to bite and claw me, as my master was served in
this castle; pierce and drill me throusb with sliarp dag^rs; tear off
my ñesh with red-hot pincers, and 1 wQl bear it all vnth patience ta
oblige your worships : but the devil nmy flv away with me at once
before a dnenna shall put a, finger upon my nesh 1"

Don Quixote could no longer kee^ ailenoe. " Have patience, my
aon," said he; "yield to the command of these noble persons, and
give thanks to Heaven for having imparted to thy body a virtue so
wonderful that, by a little torture, thou siioaJdsl be ^le l4> break the
spells of enchanters, and restore tnc dead to life."

By this time Sancho was surrounded by the duennas, and, being
softened and persuaded by his master's entreaties, he sxed nimseu
firmly in his chsir, and held out his face and beard to the execu-
tioners. The first gave him a dexterous twitch, and then made ham
a low curtsey. " Spare me your complaisance, good madam, and
give less of jonr slabber-sauce : for. Heaven taKe me ! your (u^rs
stink of vinegar." In short, aUthedaeunos successively performed
their office, and after them divers other persons repeated the same
ceremony of tweaking and pinching, tii all of which he submitted :
but when they came to pierce iiis flesh with pins, he could contain
himself no longer, and starting np in a fury, he caoght hold of a
lij^hted torch and began to lay about him witJi such agility that all
hia tormentors were put to flight. "Away!" he cried; "scamper,
ye imps of the devil I do yon take me to be made of brass, and sup-
pose I cannot feel your cursed torments P"

At this moment Altisidora (who mnst have been tired with lying m
" A.OOgIC

686 Dox qnixoTX.

Imií upoa her bank), timed benelf on one side ; upon whioli the
whole ssaembl; criea out with one roice, "She livee! she tires!
Altisidora lives ! " Riiadsinuithas then told Sancho to caJm his rag^
for the work was accomplisbed. The moment DoiiQuixot«perceivea
Altisidora move, ibe went to Saoctao, and, kneeling before him, said,
" Now is the time, dear son of my bowels, ratlier ibsn my sqnire, t«
inflict on thyself some of those lashes for which thou art pledged in
Older to effect tlie diaeochoutrnent of Dulcinea- this, 1 say, ii the
time, DOW that thy lirtne ii seasooed, and of efficacy to operate the
good expected froin thee." " Why this," replied Sucho, ii tangle
I^x>n tangle, and not hone; upon fritten I A ftvxL ¡est, indeed, t£at
puwfa<s uid pncltings must be foUoved by laues ! Do, .sir, t^ aC
once a great stone and tie it about my neok. and tumble me into •
well ; better kill me ontright than, break ray oaok with other men's
burtuens. Look je, if yoa meddle any more with me, aa I hare a
liviiw soul, all shall out !

Altiaidon had now raised herself and «at mm^t on her tomb,
iriiereupon the mnsio immediately adruek np, snd the oourt teaouuded
withUiecrieactf "ljÍTe,lin,AltKÍdonl AltÍMdora.lÍTe!" Thednke
snd dochesa aroH, and with Minos, Khadamanthna, Don Quixote, and
SaaelKi went to KWtre the restoied damsel, and assist her to descend
&om the tomb. Apparsntljr near famtinf, she bowed to the dnke
and dni^eaa and the two kings; then easting a side-f^auoe at Son
Quixote, she said, " HeaTen fo^ve thee^ nmelenti^ knight 1 bj
whose oraelty I have been imprisoned in the othear world abote a
tiiousand years, as it seems to me, and irh ' ~ ' ' for ercr
remained had it not hoea for thee, 0 Sanob kindest

and best of squire^ for the life X now enjo; ense ba

thy goodness. lii of mj smocks are at thy t > into as

many shirts for thyself; and, if they ore n< ast they

are all dean." Suicho, with his mitre in knee at

the etoimd, kissed her liand. The dnke oi disrobed

and his own garmeutfl returned to him; bat lis giaee

to allow him to keep the Crock and the i jfat cany

tiiem to his own village, in tcAea and memory of this Qnhe*rd.<ii[
adventare. Whereupon the duchess assured him of her renid, sad
momised him that the frock and the mitre should cedünly he his.
The court was now cleared by tjie duke's oommand ; all the company
rtAired, and Don Qnixote and Sanoho «ere oondacted to the Bpwtments
which they bad befcnie oocupted.

CHAPTER T.TTfT
f iitdiiptiuatU to tU fnpioHiji ^ Aii kitlorf.
Sancho sleptthatnight ona tmckle-bed,Ín the same chamber with

PBoczsDinos or rea ucsxtoK cabbasco. 5S7

lather Lave lun in nhorel alone than in that rich apartmentiSoaocom-
panied. His fears were well fonnded, for no sooner was hie master
m bed than he opened upon the sqaire, " What thiakcst thoa, Banolio,"
Mid he, " of this night's adventnro t Great and terrible are the effects
frf loio Kgeded, h thine own ejes can teatify, which beheld Altisido»
dead. Dot by sword «r dagger, or other mortal weapon; no, not
pOJsonoQS dranght, but simply my disregard of her passion !

"She might have died how and when she pieased," answered
Sancho, "sothat she had left me alone, for 1 neither lorecf nor slighted
her. In troth, 1 cannot see what the recoTeryof Altisidora, a damsel
more light-headed than discreet, should bare to do with the tweaking
and pinching of Sancho Paina's flesh ! Now, indeed, 1 plainly see that
there are enchaoten and eDchantmenta in the world, from which
good Lord deUrer me I since I know not how to deliver myself. But
■II I wish for DOW is that your worsliip wonld let roe sleep, and wA
talk to me, unless yon would hare me jump ont of the window."
"Ble(^, friend Sancho," answered Don Quixote: "if the pnckings
and pincbinfa thoa hast endured «ill give thee leave." "No smart,
sh-," replied Bancho, " is equal to the disgraoe of being fingered by
dnennas — confound them ! Bnt I would fain sleep it off, if voor
worship wooW let me ; for sfeep is the best cure for waking troables."
'"Hiendo so," quoth Ikm Quiiote, "and Heevonbe with thee!"

Both master and man wer« soon asleep, and Cid Hamete, tits
anther of this grand history, took the opportunity to inform the world
what had moved the duke and dnehess to think of contriving the
solemn farce which bad just been enacted. Accordingly he says that
the bachelor Samson Carrasco, not forgetting his overthrow when
Xnight of the Mirrors, by whica all his aeoigns had been baffled, was
inckned to try his band again, in the bope of better fbrtune ; and
gsiniiiK intelligence of Don Qnixote's Rmce, from the page who was
raarged with the tetter and presents to Teresa Panza, ne procured a
better steed and fresh armour, with a shield displaying a White
Uocn. Then placing his anus aprai a mnle, whiái «as led hj a
peasant (not enooeing to trnst his former squire, lest he shonld be
OBCOvered by Sancho Pan»), he set off, and arrrved at the duke's
castle, where he was informed bj his graoe of the knight's departor^
the nmd he had taken^and his mtention to be present at the touma-
nente of Saragossa. Me related to him also the jests which had been
pnt upon hhn, with the prefect for disenchantnig Dulcinea, at the
expense of Simcbo's posteriors. The bachelor «as also tola of the
impositiou which Sancho practised apon his msster, in making him
bcHeve that the ladv Siucraea was trwtsformed into a country wench ;
and also that the duchess afterwards made Sancho believe his own
lie. The badielor was maoh diverted at «hat he heard, and wondered
afresh at the extraordinary madness of the knight, and the shrewdness
and simplicity of his eqture. The duke requested him, whether he
was victorious or not, to call at the castle on his return, to acquaint
him with the event. This the bachelor promised : and, departing, he
proceeded straight to Saragossa, where not finding the knight, he
continned the pnrsait, and at length overtook him ; the result of
which meetina: has been ajreadytold.

On the bachelor's retorri, he stopped at the castle, ^reeable to his

momise, and informed the duke of what had passed, and also that

Don Qoizote, inteoding honoarabl; to fnUl the eonditiine of the

A.OOgIC

combat, wasnoviotnaUyonliis return Imme, where he was hound to
lemaiu twelve mouths, in which time he hc^d tlie poor guktlemau
would recocer his senses - declariug, moreover, that aothing but the
concern he felt on seeing the distiscted state of ao excellent an uiiikr-
standicE could have induced him to make the attempt. Be Ihen took
leave of the duke, expecting to be shortlr folbwedhy the TBoqaiched

The duke, who was never tired with the humonrs of Con Qnixota
and his souire, had been tempted to amuse himself in tho manner
which has been described; aod to make sureof meeting them on their
return, he despatched servants on horseback, in dUTcrcot directions,
with orders to convey them, whether willing or not, to the custle ; uid
the part; wbose chance it was to bill in with tbcm, having given the
doke timely notice of their succe^ before the; appeared, everjtbhia
was prepared so as to give tbe best e^ect [x^sible to the fiction. Ana
here Cid Hunete observes that, in his opinion, the deceivers and the
deceived, in tliese jests, were all mad ouke, and that even tbe duke
and ducüess themselves were within two fln^^ers' breadth of appeariug
90, for takmg such pains to make sport witli these two wanderioK
lunatics ; one of wliom was then happily sleeping at fuU swing, aid
the other, as usual, indulging bis wokitig fancies : in wliicli slate thej
were found when day first peeped into their chamber, giving Bou
Quixote an inclination to rise : foe whether vanquished or victonout,
he took CO pleasure in Üic bed of sloth.

_ About this time Altisidora— so lately, in Don Quixote's opinioiL
risen from the dead —entered his chamber ; her head still «axiwDea
with tho fuuereal gvlaiid, her hair dishevelled, cjad in arobe of wbite
taffeta, ¿owered with gold, and supporting herself by s staff of
polished ebony, she stood before Lim. The knight was so amozedand
confounded at this unexpected sight that he vras struck dumb : but
being detcnuincd to show her no courlcüy, hu covered himself well
over with the sheets. AlCísídoia then sat down in a chair at his bed-
side, and, heaving a profound sigh, in a suit and feeble voice she said :
"When women of virtue, and of a superior order, in contempt of all
the rules of honour and virgiu decency, can allow their tongues opeolr
to decbre the secret wishes of their htirt, Ihej must indeed be teduoed
to great extremities. I, Si^or Don Quixote de la Mancha, am one
of Uiosc unliappv persons, distressed, vanquished, and enamoured, hut
withal, patient, long-sufEerin^ and modest, to such a degree that my
heart burst in silence, and sueatlj I quitted tliis life. It is now two
(hkys sbce, 0 Biuty knight, harder than marble to my compkinta 1 that

' "-"-" -' — f— '■ " - ')rouKhl death upon nie, or «ome-

e concluded my soul was fied to
■kuuiupi "uiiu ;_ Bjiu iiau nut luvB, itt pity, placed my rocoverj in the
sufferings of this goodsquir^ there it must for over have remained!"
"Truly," quoth Suncho; if love had mven that business to my
Dapple, I should have taken it as kindly. But pray tell me, Signiwa,
—so may Heaven provide you with a more tender-hearted lovw thu
my master,— what saw you k the other world Í What did you fiwl
m purgatory— for whoever dies in despair must needs go thiUu*,
whether thev like it or not." "To tell you the troth," quoth Altisi-
dora, "I did not quite die, and therefore! did not go aoLx; for, had
I once set foot therein, nothing could have got me out tigüa, however
mach I might have wished it. The fact isl got to the gate, whew I

THE AKCSEMEHIB 01 PUKOATOET. 589

observed about a doMa derils plajing ai tennis, in their waistcoats
and draweTB, tbetr ahirt-collftis oraamenied «ith Fknders lace, and
ruffles of the same, with fonr inches of their wrista bare, to mftke their
hands seem the larger, in which thej held rackets of fire ; find what
still more surprisea me was, that instead of the common balls they
made nse of books, that seemed to be Bti:ffed with wind and wool— a
marvellona thin^, you will allow ; but what added to my wonder was
to see, that insteadof tbe winners rejoicing, and the losers comjilaimng.
as it is nsnal with ^mesters, the; alt erumbled alike, cursing aiui
hatioBone another with all their hearts!

" Tnere is nothing stranfie in that," quoth Sancho ; "for devils, pkv
or not play, win or not win, can never bo contented." " That is true,
quoth Altisidora: "bnt there is another thine I wonder at— I meant
wondered at it then— which was, that a single toss seemed always to
demolish the heU; so ÜieX not being able to use it a second time, the
T(diunes were whipped np in an astonishing manner. To one in par-
tjcnlitr that I noticed, which was spick and span new, and neatly
bonnd, ther gave such a «mart stnike that ont flew the contents, in
leaves fairly printed, which were scattered aboot in all directions.
'Look' said one dcnl to the other ' how íl flies! see what book it
ii.' ' Tis the second part of Don Quiiote de U Mancha,' cried the
other: 'not that by Cid Hamete, its first antbor, but by an Arra-
gonese, who calls himself a native of Tordesillas." ' Away with it^'
qooth the other devil, ' and down with it to the bottomless pit, that it
mav nerer be seen more.' 'Is it so bad thenl" said tbe otner. '80
bad,' replied tbe first, 'that had I endeavoured to make it worse I
ahonld bave found it beyond my skill.' So they went on tossing
about their books : but bating heard the name of Don Quixote, whom
I love and adore, Í retained this vision in my memory,"

" A vision, doubtless, it moat have been," ouotn Don Quixote,
" for I am the only person of that name eiiating. either dead or alive, ana
jnst so the book you speak of is here tossed aoout from hand to baniL
nmaining m none :~every one has a kick at it. Nor am I concerned
to hear tnat any phantom, assnming my name, should be wandering
in darkness or in light, since I am not the person mentioned in the
book yon saw shattered to pieces. The history that is good, faithfuJ,
tmd true, will survive for ages; but should it have none of these
qnalidea. its passage vrill be short between the cradle and tbe grave."

Altisidora was then about to renew her complaint against tbe
obdurate knight, when he interrnpted her ; " Madam," said he, " I
have often cautioned vou against fidog your affections on a man who
is utterly incapable of making you a suitable return. I was bora for
Dulcinea del Toboso : to her the fates, if any there be, have devoted
me ; and, being the sole mistress and tenant of my soul, it is impas-
sible for any other beauty to dispossess her. This, I hope, may suMce
to show the fallacy of your hopes, and recall you to virtue and
maidenly decomm ; for it is wild I0 expect from man what is impose
sibte." "Ood's my life!" exclaimed Altisidonk in a furious tone,
" thou stock-flah ! sonl of marble 1 stone of date 1 more stubborn and
insensible than a courted clown ! Monster I I'd tear yonr eves out
if I eouid come at yon ! Have you the impudcuce, Don Cudgelled,
Don Beaten-and-battered, to suppose that I died for love ot rout
lantcniawsf No, no such matter, believe me; oE that you We
leen to-night has been sheer cotmterieit ; I am not the woman to let

A.OOgIC

BSO txm VJaaa.

the tíaác of mr nail ache, nmoh les» to dw, for nid a dromednr m
thoaart!" "By my faith, I beliere thee," omoth Sandio; "for a»
to dyin^ for love, it u all a jest; folks may talt oCit, but aifordoins

it,— believe it^ Judas."

At this time the nmsiaJ poet }oiued them, whohadmnfthestaima
compoied for the aoleiimitiee of the night; and, approachiog Don
Quixote, with a profound rerereooe, heaaid: "loome, air knight, to
request yoa will Touchsafe to miinbet me among toot most hamUe
serrants: an lionoor whiclil have Iwen long amoitious to lecehr^
botli on account of your famo and your wooderful achierementa.
" Prav, air," replied Don Qniioto, " infonn me who yon are, that I
may duly acknowledge your mente." The yonns man said tJiat be
vas the musician and pan^^ynst of the preceoing nigfat. "Truly,
sir," Quotb Dun Quixote, your voice is excellent; bat what yo«
aang did not seem to me applicable to the oocaaion: for what uve
the stanzaa of Oarcilasso to do vith the death of this ladyF"
" Wonder not at that, air," anawered the mnsidan ; " ior, unon^ the
green poets of our times, it is comnum to «itto aa tba «him gwdet,
whether to the purpose or not: picking md stealing whera*er it
suits; and ev^ senseleea thing aung or said ia sure to find its
apolo^ in poetical license."

Don Quixote would bare replied, but was ^OTCnted bv the entnuH»
of the duke and duobess, who had come to visit him. Much reÜshiiK
conversation then passed between them, in the eovrse cf which
Sancho extorted fr^b admiration from tneir graeea, by his wonted
ahrewdncBs and pleasantly. In oonclosion, Don Quixote beaou^
them to grant him leave to depart that same day; fot a vanqoiabed
knight like himaelf should ratba dwell in a s^ with hogs tkaa in a
royal palace. His regnest was granted, and Uie dnchesa desired to
know whether Altiaidora had attained any ahaie in hia favour.
"Madam," said be, " your ladyahip ^onld kiwwthat Ae chief came
of this good damsel's ■offenng is idleneaa, the nmedy whereof ia
honest and constant employment. Lace, she teUs ma, is nmch won
in purgatory ; and since she cannot but know how to make it, let har
stick to that j for while her fingers are assiduously empkrved with her
bobbins, the images that now haunt her imagiMation will keep alqa^
and leave her mind tranqiil and happy. Thia madam, ia my opinkn
andadvioe." "And mine, too," added Sancho, "for 1 nevar in ■■;

« my care to see that Altiaidora ia well emrfoyed ; she knows
I make use of her needle, and it shall not m idle." " Then
is no need, madam," answered Altisidora, " of any such remedy; ihe
cruel treatment 1 have received from that monster is quite ai^uiait
to blot him out of my memoiy, without any other hdp ¡ and, with
your grace's leave, I will wiliidniw, that I may no loueer nave Mdbie
my eves, I will not say that rueful, but that abominable, hideona, and
horrible figure." " I wish," quotn the duke, " thia may not ooniim
thesai-ing, 'A bver railing is not far from forgiving.' "
Altisidota, then, pretenohig to wipe the tears (rom het ^es, and

A.OOgIC

uxca&ñ BAKftUK. S9I

making a loir cnrtaer to her lord and Udj, went out of tbe room.
" Poor daniMl ! " quotb fianeho, " I forbode thee ill-luck, dsoe tlion
bast to do TÍtb » BOvl of nuhu, end a heart as tongh as c«k~i' bitk
had it been me thou hadst looked on with kindneH, thf pigs would
bare been broa^ht to & better nuu-ket." Here the conversation
sensed : Don Qouote uose and dressed himself, diaed with Üm duke
and ducheas, and departed the sane afternoon.

CHAPTER LXXn.

Thb Tanqnisbed knight punned his jonrncT' homeward, iomatimes
overcome with grief, and sometimes joyñil : feo: if his spirits were
dejnesaed b; the recollection of bis orertbrow. thej were again
raised b/ the sinimlar virtue that seemed to be loa$^ in the hodj of
bi> squuc, stdl gtring him fresh hopes of his lady's restoration; at
the aato6 time, he was not withont some quahns respecting A Hin-
dcm's reiurrectiaiL £ven fionaho'B thoughts were impleaaant and
gtoomj, for be was not at all jileased that Altiaidora should have paid
no regard to her solemn promise oonceming the smocks. Full of his
diiappointment, be said to his maeter, " Faith sad troth, or, there
nerer was a more uulacky phvsician than I am. Other doctors kill
tíxtíi patienta and an well paid for it.thou^ their trouble be nothing
but scrawling a piece of paper, with diiections to the apotbeoaij, who
doeaidlUie woK; wbiMIgire life to the dead ai the eipeuse of mj
bkiod, and the scarification of my flesh to hoot : yet the devil a fee
do I touch. Bnt I vow to Heaven, t^e next time they eatch me curing
people in this way, it shall not be for nothing. ' Tlie abbot must eat
that sings for his meat ;' besides. Heaven, I am anre, never gave thia
voudernil trick d onring, without meanmg that 1 should get some-

bnt a little bdSily pain. For myself, 1 can sav, if tíion wouídat be

Kid for disendiantmg Dulcinea, I sboold readüj satisfy thee. Yet I
ow not whether payment be allowed in the conditions of the cure,
and I shonld be grieved to cause any obstruction to the efiect* of the
m^cine. However, I think there can he no risk in making a trial ;
therefore, Sancho, consider of it, and Gz thy demand, so that no time
m»; be loat. Set about the work immediately, and pay thyself in
ready money, since thou host cash of mine in thy hands.

\t these offers Sancho opened his eyes and ears a sptm wider, resolv-
ió strike the bargain without delay. " Sic," said he. "lam ready

nw to strike the bargam wiltiput delay. an, said be. J.amn
ana willing to give you satisfaction, since your worsnip apeaki
■ .. .L . ir._. ■ — Ti T id emidre

maincbai
A.OOgI

rnui^h to the purpose. You know, sir, I have a We and children to
maintain, and Ihelore I bear tbem makes me look to the main chance :

su SOK QQixon.

how mocil, then, wüt ;<rar worehip paj for eoclt laahT" " Won
I to pa; tliee, ^ndio, uuirered Doa Qociote, " in proportioii to
the magnitode of tbs service, tiie treasure of Venice, uul tbe mine*
of Potosí vould be too amiHi a recompense ; bat eiamine and feel tlie
Strength of mj purse, and then set thine own price npon eadi luL"
" The laihes to Ik givea^" quotíi Sancho, " are Ibrae thousand three
hundred and odd ; five of that number I bare airead; giTen mjBdf
— the rest remains. Setting the five against the odd ones, let ns t«ke
the three ihooaand three hundred, and reckon them at a qnaitü *
each — and, for the world, I would not take less—the «hole amount
would be three thousa;id three hundred auartils. Now tbe three
thoasaud quartUs make une tUouaaud five hundred half-real^ whkk
oomea to seven hundred and fifty reals, and the three hundred qun-
tils make a hundred and fifty half-reals, or seveutjr-five reals- micb,
added to the seven hundred and fifty, make, in all, eight hundred ana
twentf-five reals. That sum, then, I «ill take from your worahip'a
monev in my hands, and with it I shall return home rich and con-
teuted. though soundly whipped ; but trouts are not to be caogfatf
with aiy breeclie»." "0 ble«8od Sancho! O amiable Saactíir
replied ikm Quixote, " how nach shall Dulcinea and I be bound la
serve thee as koig as Heaven sbaU be pleased to f^re ns life ! Should
•he be restored to her former state, as she certaialy will, her mis-
fortune uill prove a blessing — my defeat a most happy tdumph!
and wbeiL good Sancha dost thoa propose to begin the discipliáe?
I Will add another hundred reals for greater despatch." " When t"
replied Sancho ; " even this very night, without fail: do you take owe
to give me room enough, and open &id, and 1 will take care to 1^ mf
flesh open."

So impatient was Don Quixote for night; and so slowly it seemed to
approach, that he concluded the wheels of Apollo's chariot had bcea
broken, and the day thereby extended beyond its usual length; ns it
is with expecting lovers, who always fancy time lo be itatiouary. At
length, however, it grew dark ; when, qmtting the road, they seated
themselves on the grass under some trees, and took their ereiuiig'a
repast on such provisions as the sqoire's wallet afforded. Supper
being ended, Sancho made himself a powerfol whip out of Dapple'a
halter, with which be retired about twenty paces &om bis master.
Don Quixote, seeing him proceed to business with such resolution
and spirit, said to him, "Se careful, friend, not to lash thyself to
pieces ; take time, and pause between each stroke ■, hairy not thy-
selT so as lo be overcome in the midst of thy task. _ I mean, I «oold
not nave thee lay it on so nnmercifuUy as to deprive thyself of life
before the required number be completed. And, that thou maj-stnat
lose by a card too much or too little, 1 wilt stand aloof, and ke^
reckoning upon my beads tbe lashes thoa shalt give thyself : so
Heaven prosper thy pioas undertaking ! " " The good pajmarter
needs no pledge," qaoth Sancho ; " I mean to lay it on so that it
may smart, without killing me ; for therein, as I take it, lies the
secret of the cure."

He then stripped himself naked from the waist npwards, «luiL
snatching up the whip, began to lash it a.-nj with great ftiry, and

Don Quixote to ke^ aocoimt of BtroLet. But Sancho had not giren
himseu above six or eight, vheo, feeling the^t a little loo hexrj, he
n to think bia terms too low, and stopping his haiuL be tola hi

muter that be bad bcñi deceived, and must appeal, lor erery lash
ms veil worth half a real, instead of a qnartiL " Prooeet^ friend
Smu^" quoth Don Quhote, " and be not faint-hearted ; th; pa;
■ball be doubled." " ¡i so," quoth Sancho, " awa; vrith it, in Qod's

»." Bat tbfl alj knave, instead of laying

tbem on the trees, feloliiiiK ever aiul anon.

.__... . .. " Hold, fi__.__

rest there, I oonjore thee ; for this rasdioiaB

rhen eo administered ; take it, friend, more

not gained in one hour. Thou hast alreadr

n rigbl^ above a thousand lashes : let thiá

the OSS (to speak in btn&ely phiwe) wiU

cany the load, bat not a donbb load. " No, no," answered 8an<

dio, " it shall never be said d am, ' the money paid, the work

delaved.' Pray, air, get a littb farther of^ and let me give myself

another thousand lashes at least ; for a couple of audi bouts will

finish the job, and otnff to ^tare." " Siuoe thou art in so good a

disposition," ()uoth Don Qoixott^ " go on, and Heaven assist thee¡ I

will retire a little."

Sauoho returned to his task with the same fnrv as before, and with

n the body of a beech, be

_ .... __ _,...._ _.._ jnd all that are with thee I"

The triftbtiul exclamation and blow were too much lor the kni^t's
tenderness, and he ran immediately, and, seizing hold of the twisted
hah«f, said "Heaven forbid, friend Siucbo, that thy death, and
the mis of thy helplew family, should be bid at my door!— let
Doloinea wait (or anotbw opportunity, and I will myself restrain
. my ea^temess for her dsUverance within reasonable hounds, and
stay till thou hast recovered freah strength, so as to be able to
finish thy task with aafety." " ^ir^w ii: in vnnr wnnthin'd nl^w.
Bure that I should leave off, be'

fiing your cloak ovm my shoulders, for lai ,

loth to catch cold, as new disraplinants are apt to do." Don
Quixote took off his cloak, and did as Sancho desired, leaving him-
self in his doublet ; and the crafty squire, bemg oovered up warm,
fell fast asleep, and never stbrred until the snn waked htm.

The knigbt and squire now pursued their journey, and having trs-
yáied about three leagues, they alighted at the door of an iiu>
which, it is to be remarked, Don Quixote did not take for a tu.>
reted castle, with its moat and drawbridge ; indeed, siuoe hia
defeat, he was observed at times to discourse with B more steady
judgment than uatwl. He was introduced into a room on the
ground-ñoor, which, instead of tapestry, was bung with painted

ingdom of Leon, a long wbilo di^putod for by

9M DOH qinxon.

serge, as is common kcoimtiTplao». Inonepartof these banoiigs
Via represented, hj some wretdied dauber, tlie stoiy of BeWa
elopement with Paris ; and in another vta painted the anfortimate
Dido, tipac a high tower, making signals, with her bed-sheet, to her
fugibve loTer, wuo was out at sea, crowding all the sail he could to get
away from her. Of the ñrat the loight lematked that Helen seemed
not mach avene t« be taken off, for she had a ro^sh smile on her
coantenBiioe; but the beanteoua Dido seemed to let hH from her
ejes tears as big as wiJnnta. " These two ladies," said he. " were
most nnfortmtate in not being bom in ibis age, and I above all
men nnhi^ipf that I was not bom in theirs ; for, had I encout-
tered those gallants, neither bad Tro; been burnt, nor Carthage
destrojed: — all these calainities had been preroited simply hjmj
killing Paria."

" I will li^ a wager," qnoth Sancho, " thai, before long, Üiere
will not be either Tiotnalting-honse, taTem, inn, or barber's ahop,
in which the history of onr ezpk>its will not be paint«d ; bat I hope

painter is like Ort^nej^ of Übeda, who, when he was asked what fa
was painting, answerñl, ' As it roa; happen ;' and if it ohaoced to be a
cock, he nrudently wrote under it, ' This is a oock,' lest it should tw

or writer ^or it is all one), must be, who wT(¿e the history of this
new Don Quixote, lately publisbed : whatever be painted, or wrote,
was just as it happened. Or he is like a poet some years about
theoourt, called the Alauleou, who answered allqtiestionaestfliDpon;
and, a person asking him the meaning of Beiut at Deo, he answered.
Dé donde diere * But setting all this aside, t«ll me, Sancho, hast
thou any thoughts of ^ving thvself the other bm^ to-night r and
wouldst thou rather it should be onder a vxi, or in. tbe open
air?"

" Fait ir the whipping, I intend to give

myself, i her it be in a house or in a field;

though D re among trees, for they seem to

have a fc ere, and help me to bev my suf-

fering m. low I think of i^ &iend Sancho,"

sud Don le to leoover yonr strength, we

will defe :h home, whidi will ba the day

" That shall be as your worship pleases," quoth Sancho : " for my
own part 1 am for miücing an end of the job, out of hand, now I am
hot npon it, and while the mill is going, for delay breeds danger.
Pray to God devoutly, and hammer aw^ stoutly ; one ' take^ is
worth two ' I'll give thee's ¡' and a spwrow in hand is better Iban a
vulture than on the wing." " No more proverbs, tor God's sake,"
qnoth Don Quixot« ; " for methinks, Sancho, tbon art losing nonnd,
and returning to Sieut eral. Speak plainly, as 1 have often told thee,
and thou wilt find it worth a loaf per cent, to thee." " 1 know not hoT

* "WlismwitUta." CervantM, In his " Ualogm batwMtt two Degi,"
quuMa tbeee words Irom tlie ums Mauleoa, Dalling him " FoolUh PMt,'
ftlthoagh beloii^piig to the AoBdemy of Imitaton,

THE RETURN HOME.

I cante Itj this nnliick; trick," replied Suiobo ; " I canaot bring yon
in three irorda to the purpose wittiout a proverb, nor give ;ou apro
verb i*hicli, to mrthinking, is not to the purpose :— but I «Ul tiy to
mend." AJd here the ooarersatioa ended for this time.

CHAPTER LXXm.

Sav DoA Qdrxato antí SaiieKo arnetd at IMr viBagt.

That da; Don Quixote ani Sutcho remuned at the inn, waiting

for night ; the one to finiah his ^nauce in the open air, aod ths other
to iritness an event which promised the foil aoeompiisbnieDtof all his
wishes. While the; were thus waiting, a tiaTeUer on hnseback,
attended by three or four servants, stopped at the inn. " Here,
Si^or Don Alvaro Tarfe," said one of the attendaats to ids master,
" ;oa ma; pass the heat of the da; ; the lodging seems to be
cool and cleanly." " If I remember right. Saocfao," said Don
Quixote, on hearing the gentleman's name, when 1 was turning
over the book called the second p^ of m; histor;, I noticed the
name of Don Alvaro Tarfe." _" It may be so," answered Sancho ¡
" let him alight, and then we will pnt the qiiestion to him."

The gentleman alighted, and the landlady showed him into a nxnn
on the ground-fioor adjoining to that of Don Quixote, and, tike hta,
also hung with painted se^e. This newl;-airived cavuier undressed
and equipped himself for coolneas, and stepping oat to the poroh. which
was air; and spacious, where Don Quixote was walking backwards
and forwards, he said to him, "Pray, sir, whither are yon bound F"
" To m; native village, sir," nmlied Don Qniiote, " which is not far
distant. Allow me, sir, to ask ;ou the same qneetioo." " I an

Rbg.sir," answered the gentleman, "toGrenflda,the oountiywhere
rasDom." "And a fine country it is," replied Don Quixote. "But
pray, sir, will you favour me with vour name F for I believe it parti-
cularly imports me to know it." My nanie is Don Alvaro Tarfe,"
answered the new guest. "Then, I presume," said Don Qnixo(«,
" you are that Don Alvaro Tarfe mentioned in the second part of the
history of Don Quixote de la Mancha, lately printed and mibluhed Í"
" The very same," answered the gentleman, " and that Don Quixote
the hero of the said history, was an intimate acqoaintanoe of mine :
and it was I indeed who drew him from his home — I mean, I prevaiiod
upon him to aceompany me to Sara, ' t aÁ tne jousta

and toumameots held in that pU( while we were

there, I did him much service, in rom being well

stroked by the hangman for being tut pray, sir,"

«aid Don Quixote, am I anything ute vou speak

ofF" "No, tmly," answered the test Ironi itin

the world." " And had he," sale squire named

Sancho Paneaf" "Yes, truly," a tro, "one who

had the reputation of being a witty t for mv part I

thoo^t htm a very dull blockhead.' :ht so," quoth

Sancho, abraptly, " for it is not can say good

848

DOH QUIXOTE.

.—'tis I am the meny-coiiceit«d squire, thrt have afwajs ■

budget fall of wit and vasgerv. Do bat ti7 me, sir— keep ise coa-
panj bat for a twelTcmontli, and you wiil bless f ourself at the notable
thii)|ts that drop from me at every step ;— 4hey are so nian;, and so
gnoa too, that Imake everv beard wag without meMiins it, or Vnowiag
why or wherefore. And tnere, sir, you have the trne Don Quixote <k
la Majicha, the stanch, the aunóos, the Ttdiant, the wise, Uie loriiw
Bon Quixote de la Mancha ; the nghter of wroi^, the defends of
the weak, the father of the fatherless, the safegmird of 'widows, the
murderer of damsels ; he whose sole sweetheart and Biistreas is Üe
peerless Bnlcinea del Toboso ; here he is, and here an I, hda aqim« ;
all other Don Qoiiotes and all other Sucho FanmB bk downi^U
phantoms and Mieata,"

" Now, by St. ]Bjr> '■ honest friend, I bdien it," said Don Ahm,
" for the little thou hast now said has more of the spice c€ boinoor
than all I ever heard from the other, thoush it was much. Ite
fellow seemed to carry his brains in hia stomach, for bis belly •anidied
all his wit, which was too dull and stupid to be divertini; ; iniked, 1
am convinced that the enchanters, who persecuted the good Din
Quixote, have ont of spite sent the bad one to persecute me. Yi* I
know not what to make of this matter, for 1 can take my oath that I
left one Don Qoixote onder the snrgeon's hands, at the honse iA the
muicio in Toledo, and now here starts op another that has no
resemblance to him ! "

" I know not," said Don Quixote, " whether I ongbt to stow myidf
die good one, Imt I dare venture to assert that I am not the bad one ;
and, as a proof of what 1 aay, yon mnat know, dear Signor AlTtra
Tarfe, that I never in my Ufe saw the city of Saragossa ; w far from
it., that having been informed this utorper of mj name woa at the
tonnmments of that city, I resolved not to go thither, that all Üw
world might see and be convinced he was an impostor. Instead
therefore of going to Saragoesa, X directed my course to Baradona—
that seat of urbanity, that asylnm of strangers, the refuge of the
distressed, birthplace of the brave, avenger of the injured, the abode
of tme friendship, and moreover the queen of cities for beauty sod
situation. And tuough certain events occurred to me there that are
far from grateful to my thoughts — indeed such as excite painfal
recollections,- yet I bear them the better for haiinir had the satisfac-
tion of seeing; that city. In phkin truth, Signor Don Alvani Talk,
I am Don Quixote de la Mancho : it is I whom feme has oetebrated.
and not the miserable wretch who has taken my name, and would
arrogate to himself the hononr of my exploits. I therefore hope, air,
that you, as a gentlpumn, will not refuse to make a deposition before
the inasistrate of this town, that you never saw me oefore in yoai
life till this day ; and that I am not the Don Quixote nientkini<d ia
the second part which has been published, oor this Sancho Panza my
Bqnire the same you formerl.v knew."

"That I will with all my heart," answered Don Alvaro; "thoueh
I own it perplexes me to see two Don Quixotes and two Sanoio
Panzas, a.s different in their nnlure as alike in name, insomuch that I
am inclined to bciicvc tb.it I have not seen what I have seen, nor has
that happened to me vhich 1 thought had happened." " fast all
" A.OOgIC

SANCHO UQÜItlATES BIS DEBT. 697

doubt," quoth Sancho, " j'our wonhip is enclunícii, like m; Ladr
Duloioea del Toboao; and «ould to Heaven jour diEeoohantmcDt
dejiended upon my giving mjgelf another such tlirce thoosaod and
odd Insliej, as L do (or her!— I would do your businesa, tmd Uf then
un, without fee or reward." " I do not underst«id what you mean
b; lashes," quoth Don Alvaro. Sancho said it was a tale too long to
t¿ll at that tame, but he should hear it if ihey happened to travel the
sameroad.

Don Quixot« and Don Alvaro dined toxetlker ; and aa it chancea
that a n^Jstratfl of the town called at the ¡on, Bccompanied hj a
notary. Pon Quixote requested they wonld take the deposition o! a
Keiitlewui there present, Bon Alvajv) Tarfe, who proposed to Diake
oath that he did not know another gentleman tlien before theoo,
namely, Don Quixote de Is ManchiL and that he was not the man

riten of in a certain book ci^led " The Secuad Fart of Don Quixote
la Mancha, written by such a one De Avelkneda, a natire of Tor-
desiUas." In short, the mng-istrate complied, and a deposition was
produced according to the re<(utar form, and expressed m t he strongeet
terms, to the great satisfaction of Don Quixote and Sündio— asif
the difference between them and their spurious imitators bad not
been suffidently nuuiifeet without any such attestation. Mui; com-
pliments and offtrs of service passed between Don Alvaro and Don
Quixote, in which the great Maiiciu:gan showed so much good sense,
that Don Alvaro Tarfe was oonvinced he bad been deceived, and also
that there was certainly some enchantment in the ease, since be
had touched with his own hand two such opposite Dna Quixotes,

In the erenicK they all quitted the inn, and after proceeding
together about half a lea^e, the road branched into two ; the one led
to Don Quixote's village, and the other was taken by Don Alvaro.
During the short distance they had travelled together, Don Quixote
infonued him of bis unfortunate defeat, the encbantment of Dulcinea,
and the remedy prescribed by Merlin, to the gre^t amusement of Don
Alvaro, who, after embracing Don Quixote and.&anclio, took ins leav^
each pursninf his own way.

Don Quixote passed that night among trees, to give Sancho an
opportnmt; to resume his penance, in the performance of which the
ennning rogue took special care, as on the preceding night, that the
beech-trees should be tbe sufferers ; for the hkshes be gave his back
wonld not have brushed offaily from it, llie cheated kniiht counted
the strokes with great exactjiess, and reckoning those which had been
given him before, he found the whole amount to three thousand and
twenty-nine. The sun seemed to rise ettrlier than nsusl to witness
the important sacrifice, and to enable them to continue iheir journey.
They travelled onward, discoursing together on the mistake of Don
Alvaro, and their prudence in having obtained bis deposition before a
iiiagistntte, and in so full and authentic a form. All that day and tbe
following night they proceeded without meeting with any occurrenoe
worth recording, unless it be that when it was dark Sancho tiuished
his task, to the sreat joy of Don Quixote, who when all was over,
anxiously waited the return of day, in the hope of meeting hia disen-
chanted h«dy; and for that purpose, as he pursued his journey, be
looked narrowly at every woman he came near to recognise Dulcinea
del Toboso ; fully relying on the promisca of the sage Merlin.

Thus hoping and expectina the knight and squire ascended a lit'le

DOK qCIXOTE.

jnce, whence they discovered their village; which Sancho no
. — !r beheld thwi, kneeling down, he said: "Open thine ejes, O mj
beloved country ! and behold thy son, Sancho Panza, tetunung to
thee again, if not rich, ^ct well whipped ! Open tiiine anns, and
receive thy son Don Quixoto too ! who, though woretid by another,
has conquered hinisclf, which, as I have hcarif say, is (he best kind of
victory ! Money I have gotten, and thougb 1 have been soundly
banged, I hiie come off like a eentieman." "Leave these fooleries,
Sancho," quoth Don Guisote, and let ns go direellv to our homes,
where we will give ftUl scope to our imagination, ana seitle our in-
tended scheme of a psatord life." They now descended the hill, and
went straight to the village.

CHAPTER LXXIV.

At the entrance of the village, as Cid Hamete reports, Don Qniiote
observed two boys Btundúig on a thresh i n^-fioor. dispu^ng vñüi each
other. " You need not trouble yourself, Pcrquillo," said one of them,
"for yon shall never see it again." Doo Quiiote hearing these
words, said : " Dost thoa mark that, Sancho ? Hearest ihou what he
saysP 'you shall never aee it again!'" "Well, and what then?"
Baid Sancho. "What!" replied Don Quixote, "dost thou not per-
ceive that, applying these words to myself, I am to understand that
I shaU never more behold my Dalcinca f "

Sancho would have answered, but was prevented by seeing a hare
come running across the field, which, pursued by a number of dogs
and sportsmen, took refuge between Dapple's feet. Sancho took up
the fugitive animal and presented it to Don Quixote, who immediately
cried out, " IlahmtigHum .' Mulumti^uiit .'^^hait flies, dogs pursue
her, and Dulcinea appears not!" " Your wonhip," qnoth Sancho,
" is a itrange man : let us suppose now that this hare is the lady
Dulcinea, bnd the aogs that pursue her those wicked enchanters, who
transformed her into a scurry wench ; she flies, I catch her, and put
her into your worship's hands, who have her in your arms, and pray
make much of her. Now where is the harm of all Ihisf"

The two boys who had been quarrelling now came up to look nt
Ihe hare, when Sancho aaked one of them the canse of their dispute,
an<l was told by htm who said " you ahüU never ace it again," that he
had taken a cage full of crickets from the other boy, whicliheintended
to keep. Sancho drew four maravedís out of his pocket and gave them
to the boy for his cage, which he also detii'cred to Don Quiiote, and
"Look here,( sir, all your omens and signs of ill lock are come to
'- "-->--- ^ ' they have nomore todbwith

said : " Look here,( sir, all yi
nothing; tomythiukmg, di
our affiÚTS than hist year's

ince OS 1 am, they have nomore toaowim
_.,. — _._ ,..„„ ™.. _.^. u clouds ; and if I remember right, I have
heard our priest say tiiut good Clinstiane and wise people ought not
to regard these trumperies ; and it was but a few days since I hat your
vorship told oc yourself that people who aundea mh sisu ,«od

Uigniaüb, Google

m )h«lr naliic villain.— 1>. ¡

TBI WBLCOMK BOMK. G09

tokens «ere little better tban fools. So let us leave diese mnttera as
ve found Ihem, &nd get home as hat as ve can."

The hunters tlien came up, and demanded their hare, vbich Sou
Quiiote gave them, and passed on; and in a field adjoining the vil-
lage, they met the curate and the bachelor Samson Carrssco, repeal-
ing Üieir breviary. It must here be mentioned that Sancho Panza,
by waj of aiimpter-clotb, had thrown the buckram robe paiiiled with
flames, which he had worn on tlie night of Altisidora's revival, npon
his ass. Ue likewise clapped the mitre on Bapple's bead,— in short,
never was an ass so honoured and bedizened. The pncst and ba-
clielor, immediately recognising their friends, ran tovams them witli
open arms. Don Quiiote alighted, andcmbmced them cordially. In
the mean time, the boya, whose keen eyea nothing cob escape, came
flocking from bU parU. "Ho!" erics one, "here comes S«icho
Fhdzb's bus. as gay as a parrot, and Don Quixote's old horse, leaner

"- ST I"

at Don Quixote's house, where, at the door, thev found the house-
keeper and the niece, who had already heard of nia arrival It had
likewise reached the ears of Saocho s wife Terfsa, who, hnlf-oaked,
with her hair abont her ears, and dragging Sanchica after her, ran to
meet her hosband ; and seeing him not so well equipped as abe thought
a governor onght to be, she said ; " What makes yon come thus, dear
husbftod ? methinks you come afoot, and foundered ! This, I trow,
is not as a governor should look." "Peace, wife," anoth Sancho,
"for t)iB bacon is not so easily found as the pin to nang it on. Iiet
us so home, and there von ahatl hear woDifers. I have got money,
and honestly, too, without wronging anybody." "Haat thou got
money, good husband F— nay, then, íia well, however it be gotten,
for, well or ill, it will have brought up no new custom m the
world."

Sanchica clung to her father, and asked him what he had brought
her home, for she had been wishing for him as they do for showeis in
May. Teresa then taking him by the hand on one side, and Sanchica
laying hold of his belt on the other, and at the same time pulling
Dapple b^ the halter, they went home, leaving Don Quixote to th«
care of his niece aiul nonsekeeper, and in the company of the priest
and the bachelor,

Don Quiiote, without w^ting for a more fit occasion, immediately
took the priest and bachelor aside, and briefly told them of his having
been vanquished, and the obligation he bad conse<iuently been laid
under to abstain from the eietoise of arms for the space of twelve
months, and which he said it was his intention strictly to observe, as
became a true knight-errant. Uealso told them of hisdetennination
to turn shepherd, aod during the period of his recess t« pass his time
in the rural occupations appertaining to that mode of life; thatwhUe
thus iuttoccntlv and virtuously employed, he might give free scope to
his amorous tnoughts. He then beso uglit them, if they were free
from engagements of greater moment, to follow his eiample, and bear
him company ; adding that it should be his care to provide tbem with
sheep, and wlmtcTcr was necessary to equip them as shepherds : and,
moreover, that his project had been sofarmatored, that he had already
chosen names that would suit them eiactl/. The priest having
,, .A.OOgIC

600 son «UTXOTE.

inqnired wlut tbej were, he informed him that the name he proposed
to take himself vas (he sliepherd Quixotic : the bachelor ahonld ba
the shepherd CwTHscon ; and he, the cnrate, the aliepherdCimambro:
and Sancho Panza, the shepherd Fanzine.

This oew madness of Don Quixote astonished his friends ; bat, to
prevent his rambling as before, and bopinK also that a cure mifh^ ia
the mean time, be found for his malady, they entered into hu new

n'ect, and expressed their entire ^probation of it ; consentinp also
e companions of his rural life. "This is eicellent!" said the
bachelor ; it will suit me to a hair, for, as everybody knows, I am a
choice poet, and shall be continually composing amorous ditties and
pastorals, tji divert us as we ranee the flowery fields. But there is
one important thing to be done, wblch is, that each of us should choose
the name of the shepherdess be intends to celebrate in hi» verses, and
inscribe it on the bark of everv tree he comes near, according- 1Á the
custom of enamoored swains. " Certainly," said the knight, "that
should be done : — not that I have occasion to look out for a name,
having the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, the glory of these banks, the
ornament of these meads, the dower of beauty, the cream of gen-
tleness, and, lastly, the worthy subject of all praise, howerer

É

That is true," said the priest ; " but as for ns, we must look out
shepherdesses <h an inferior stamp, and be content ; if they square
not vríth oor wishes, they may comer with them ; and, wtien our
invention fails us in the choice of names, we have only to apply to
books, and there we may be accommodated with Fhillises, Amardlmes,
Dianas, Floridas, Gakteas, and Belisardas in abundance, which, as
they are goods for any man a penny, we may pick and choose. ]f my
mistress, or, rather my shepherdess, should be called Anna, I wiH
celebrate her under the name of Anarda ; and if Frances, I will call
her Francesilla; and if Luey, Lucinda; and so on; and if Sancha
I'luiza make one of our fraternity, he may celebrate his wife Tere»
Fanza, by the name of Teresona." Don Quixote smiled at the turn
1 to the names ; the priest again commended his laudable resoln-

, and repeated his offer to join the party whenever the duties of his

function would permit. Tbey then took their leave, entreating him
to tie eare of his health by cveir means in his power.

No sooner had his frienite left nim than the honaekeeper and niece,
■who bad been listening to their conversation, came to him. " Bless
me, nncle!" cried the niece, "what has now got into yout head?
When we thought you were coming to stay at home, aod live a quiet
and deceiit life, von are about to entangle yourself in new mazes, and
turn liepberd, forsooth !— in tmfh, uncle, ' the straw is too hard to
make pipes of.' " Here the housekeeper put in her word : "Lord,
sir! how is your worship to bear the Bummer's heat and vrint^r*»

gnchiugcold, in the open fields f And the howling of the wolves —
eaven bless us ! Ko, good sir, don't think of it ; tías is the business
of stout men who are born and bred to it ;— whv, as I live, jonr wor-
ship would find it worse even than being a knight -errant. Look you,
sir, take my advice — which is not given oy one full of bread and wine,
but fasting, and wilh fifty years over my head— stay at home, lo<A

after vour estate, eo often to confession, and relieve tne poor ; and, if
-"" 'II come of it, let it lie at my door."

"mxote,*'forIfcDOwmr

.511

ill come of it, let it lie at my door."

Peace, daughters," answered Don Quixote, " for I know ws duty ¡

na FATU nCKKEU.

aij help me to bed, for metliinkB I am not Twy veil : and oMure
TonnelTGi that whether ft külght-enant or & Bhepherd-emnt, I wQl
.._.,.... .,., v_„=..jL ■ — ,„ -fljetr-

CHAPTER LXXV.
ffcn D»» QmíxoU ftU tiet, rnadi kit kUI, and died.

Aa I>U hanum things, espeoiaUy the IÍtfs of men, are tranaitcnx ever
adraacing from their bi-^iming to their decline and ñnal termination,
and as Iran QuJx.ote \fb9 favoored by no privilege of exemption fniin
the common fate^ the period of his dissolution came — and when he
least thought of it. Whether that event was hastened by the melan-
choly occasioned by the lecolleotinn of his defeat, or that his destined
hour was oome, tme it is that he was seized with a fever, which, after
six days' conünement to his bed, terminated his mortal conise.
Dnriiu; that time he «as often visited b; his friends the priest, the
bachelor, and the barber ; and his tmsty squire Sancho Panza never
quitted bis bedside.

Supposing that the mortification of being vanonísheá, and the dis-
appointment of his hopes as to the restoration of Dulcinea, were the
causes of hie pnsent malady, they endeavoured by all possible means
to revive his spirits. The bachelor bid him be of good courage and to
think soon of Manning their pastoral bfe ; telling him that he had
idready oomposM an eclogne on the oocaiion, which would eclipse all
that Sannaz.ariiu had writtea and that he had also bought of a shep-
herd of Quintanar two excellent dogs, to guard the nock, the one
called Butñno and the other £ntron, Neverlheless, Don Quixote's
dejection still continued : it was therefore thought necessary to send
for a physician, who, perceiving some unfavourable symptoms in his

a' <e, advised bis patient to look to his soul's health, for that of his
y was is danger. Don Quixote heard this admonition with more
tranquillity than those about him : for his housekeeper, bis niece, and
bissqnire, Degantoweepas bitterly as if he were already dead and laid
out befoi« their eyes. Grief and other troublesome cares, the doctor
told them, had brought him to this raiss,

Don Quiitote now feeling an inclination to sleep, desired that he
might be left alone. They complied, and he slept Cnll six hour? at a
stretch (as it is termed), so that the niece and housekeeper thought
he would never awake more. At the end of that time, however, he
awaked, and immediately exclaimed in an audible voice — "Praiaedbe
Almightv Giod, who has vouchsafed me so great a blessing !— Bound-
less are His meifiies ; nor cam tiie sins of men either lessen or ohatnuA

~ ■ »liílen(>dattent¡TeIy_tohernncle'8_words¡ forshe thonght

thing eitnordinu; happened P What mercies and «hot siiu do jdd
speak <¿F" "Mf Rood niece." replied Don Quixote, " Üie mercies I
metuiara those vnion God bsui, in this iuslAiioe, been pleased to show
me, though mjr bíus are so manj. Mf jad^rueiit is now clear, and
freed from the dark clouds of ignorance with which the ooutiuual rend-
ing of those detestable books of chivalry had obscured it. I now see
their extravagance and folly, and am only grieved that this discovery
happens so late as to leave me no time to profit by such books as

t mr deatL Go, therefore, dear child, and call hither mv good
niencU the priest, the baoheior Samson Carrasctk and Uiister
Kicholaa the oarber j for I would &in make m; <x»ifesBÍon and my
will."

rortnnately, at that moment, his three friends entered. As socm
as Don Quixote saw them, he exclaimed, " Give me k>y, good gen-
tlemen, tnat 1 am no longer Don Quixote de la Hanohá, but Alaoio
Quizano, the same whom tbe world, for his fair and honetí life, wu
pleased to súmame the Good. I am now an utter enemy to *"™4Í¡H
de óaul and all his generation. Now the senseless and proCaoe Us-
tories of knight-erruntry are to me disgusting and odious j I now
Boknowledge my folly, imd perceive the danger into which I was led
by reading them ; ana now. through the merej of God, and my own
dear-bought experience, I abhor them."

When nis three friends heard him speak thus, they imagined that
some new frenzy had seized him. " «"hat! Signor Don Quixote,"
said the bachebr, "now that we have news of the lady Dulcinea
being disenchantea, do you talk at this rate F And now that we «re
just Qponthepoint of becoming shepherds, to sing and live tike princes
WDula vou turn hermit P Think not of it — be yourself again^ ana
leave toese idle stories." " Such, indeed," replied Don Quixote^
"were the stories that to me have proved so baneful: but my death,
«ilh Heaven's assistance, shall oonvert them to my good. I feel,
good sirs, that death advaaoes fast upon me ; let a» then be senouki
and bring me A confessor, and ft notai^ to draw np my wiU: for a man

7 state must not idfle with his souL Ijet the notary be emit
beseech yon, while my friend her^ the priest, is taking my

for.YlS

They looked at each other in surprise at Us expresmons, and
thongh still dubious, they were indined to believe him, and ooold not
but regard as a fatal ajmptum this sudden change from modneas to
sanity. He then conversed again in so raliiinal and Christian a
manner, that no doubt renmned of the perfect restoration of hia intel-
lects. The priest desired all lie rest to leave the room, and when
alone, he received his confession. The bachelor went for the notary,
and presently retoroed with him. followed by Sancho Pansa, who
having learned from the bachelor Ihe hopeless situation of his master,
and seeing the niece and housekeeper in tears, he also began to weep
like the rest. The priest, having taken his dying friend's confession,
came oat of the room, and told them that the good Alomo Quixano
was near his end, and certainly in his right senses; he therefore
advised them to go in, as it was full time that his will should be made.
A.c.OglC

BIS uurr HOUERts. 603

This sad intell^ence q)«ned stiD wider tb« tduicea of grief, ud tor-
Knts of tears isnued from the awoUeD eyes of the housekeeper, hie
niece, and Sancbo Faoza his traatj; squire, and from the bottom of
tbeir a^^rieTed hearts a thousand siRhs aad groans ; for, in tmth, as
it halh been said before, both while he was plain Alonzo Quiumo
and while he was Son Qunote de la Mancha, he was ever of an ami-
able disposition, and kind and Bffid)le in his behsvioar; so that he
was bejared, not onl; bj those of faia own family, bnt b; all that
knew him.

The notary now entered the room with the others, and after the
preamble oF the will had been written, and Don Quixote had disposed
of his soul in the nsn^ Christian forma, coming to the diatnbntinn of
his worldly goods he directed the notary to write as follows ;
namely^" Item, it is my will that, in regard to certain monies which
Sancho Panza, whom in the wildnesa of my follyl cdled mj sqnire,
has iú his custody, there being between him and me some rectonings,
receipts, and disoursements, he shall not be charged with them, nor
called to an J account for them; hut if, after he haa paid himself, there
should be ¿ay orerplua, which will be bnt littJe, it shall be his own,
and much good may it do him ; and if, as in my distracted state I
procured hun the goremment of an island, I ooold, now that I am
in my senses, jnooore him that of a kingdom, I would readily do it :
for the simphcity of his heart, and the fldehty of hia dealings, well

deserve it." Then turning to Sanch^ he said: "ForgiTC me, friend,
for perverting thy nnderatanding, ana peranading thee to believe tl
there were, and stiE are, knighta-erranl in the world."

"Alaa! good air," replied Sancho, "do not die, Ipray yon; but
take my advice, uid live many years : for the greet^t folly a man can
commit in this wcn-ld, is to give himself np to death, without any
good cause for it, btit only from meiancholy. Good yoor worship, be
not idle, hut rise and let na be going to the field, dreesed like shep-
herds, as we agreed to do : and who knows but bebiud some bush or
other wo may find the ladv Dulcinea disenchanted as fine as heart;
can wish F 1? yon pine at being vanqoiahed, lay the blame upon me,
and say yon were nnhorsed because I had not duly girthed Rozmantc's
saddle ; and your worship must have seen in your books of chiv^7
Ütai nothing is more common than for one knight to unhorse another,
and that he who is vanqnishcd to^y may be the conqueror to-
morrow."

" It is so, indeed," quoth the bachelor ; " honest Sancho is very
much in the right. '"Gentlemen," gnoth Don Quiiote, "let us
proceed fair ano softly ; look not for this year's birds in last year's
nests. I was mad ; I am now sane : I was Don Quixote de la
Mancha ; I am now, as formerly, styled Alonzo Quiiano the Good,
and may my repentance end sincerity restore ne to the esteem you
once bad for rae !— now Jet the notary proceed."

" Item, I bequeath to Antonia Quuano, my niece, here present, all
my estate, real and personal after the payment of all my debts and
legacies ; and the first to be dischai^ed anail be the wages due to my
bonsekeeper for the time she boa been in my service, and twenty
dneats besides for a suit of mourning.

..i.^u.. Item, it is also my will that, u
e should be inclined to manv, it shall be

6M von ijtnioTE.

only yñÜi a man vbo, upon the strictest iniiniiy, úitR be fonnd tv
know notluQg of bocuo of chiTslry ; and, in mae ¡1 aball .qipMr that
he U acquainted with euct books, uid that my niece, notwithstaniling.
Till and doth many him, then bíIbII she fuieit all I ha¥e beqoeotliea
her, vhich my eiecut^rs may dispcae of in pioui uim as they think
proper. And fin&lly, I beseech the s&id gentlemen, m; eKCoian, that
if hapl; tbe; should come to the kaon'ledKe of the author of k «erUin
history, distraed abioad, entitled, ' The Seeond Part of the BifloiU
of Don Quixote de la Mancha,' they will, in my name, most earmeatly
estreat hZm to pardon the oocawon I have nnwittwgly ^ven him of
writing so many Etnd snch noas absurdities as are contamed m that
book ; for I dcpact this life with a burden upon ny consciBnoe, for
having caused the pabUcatton of bo mnch foUj,"

Tbe «ill Tas then dosed ; and beiiu; seizeu with a faiutinc-fit. ha
Btretchcd himself out at length in tbe lied, at wbioh all «ere auuñed
and hastened to hia assíiitaiice i yet he anrvived th^'ee days: often
fabting donag that time in the same manner, which never failed to
cause mueb coofusion in the house : uerertlieJeEa, the niece ate, the
Iioiuekeeoer drank, and Soncbo Panza consoled bimaelf—for leñcñe*
tend mucn to modérale grief thatnatore cloimsforthe deoeesed. &t
last, after receiving tbe sacrament, and making all snch pioufi prqui-
rations, as well as e^ressing his abborrenoe. in slftmg and pathwo
terms, of the wicked books bv which be baa been lad astrVi Oofi
Qnixote's last moment arrivea. The notary was ptesei^ and pro-
tested he had never read in any book of chivalry i^ a knigbt-ermnt
dting in his bed in so composed and Cliristian a muiner as Dor
Quixote, who, amidst the plaints and tears of all present, resigned his
breath— I mean to say, bodied. Whentbepnest saw that he wasno
more, he desired the notary t« draw up a certificate, slating that
Alunzo Qujxano, commonly called Don Quixote de la Mancha, had
diluted tbis life and died a natural doith; which testimonial he
rninired, lest any other author besides Cid Bainete Benenseli, shonld
raise him from the dead, and impose t^on the world wilh their
fabulous stories of his exploits.

This was the end of ttiat extraordinary genÜ^nan of La Maocba,
whose birthplace Cid Hémete was careful to oonceal, that all the towns
and Tillases of that province mi^ht contend for the honour of bavinf

froduced him, as did the seven cities of Greece for the glory of giving
irth to Homer. The lamentations of Sancho, the nieee, and the
housekeeper, are not here given, nor the new epitaphs on the tomb
of the deceased knight, except tbe following one, oomposed bj
Samson Carrasco : —

Here lies the valiant caTnliar

Who never had a nnua of íéar :

So high hia matcUea oonrage roM,
Ha reckon'd death sjnong bis vuii|máh'd (boi.

Wrongs to radress, bii swonl be drew.

And muiy a cutiff giant slew ;

HÍ9 days of life, though madnefli ataio'd»
In death his sober senses he rogain'd.

The Sanctons Cid Hamet«. now addressing himself to his pen, said,
"Here, 0 my slender quill! whether well or ill out — here, by thia
brass wire suspended, sbalt tboa hang upon this qat-rack, ana live foe

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cm BAliíTt'B f ÁBZVELL. 60G

aaxij long ages yet to come, anless presampluous or wicked soribblen
take tbee down to profute thee. £ot, before tbey laf their vile h&nda
apon thee, tell them, m well ts thou ut able, to beware of what thejr
do ; Mjr to them, ' Of— ofF, ye caiti& ! Approach me not ! for this
enterprise, good iing, was reserved for me alone.' Tot me alone was
Don Quiiote bom, and I for him: he knew how to act, end I to
record ; we were destined for each other, in despite of that bungling
impostor of INirdeaillas, who has dared, with his dams); and ill-shapea
OBtrich-quill, to describé the eiploitsof my valorous knigbt — a burden
much too wragfaly for his shoolders— an undertaking too bold for his
impotent and m»en genius. Warn him, if perchance occasion offers,
not to disturb the wearied and mouldering bones of Don Quiiote; nor
vainly endearour, in opposition to all the ancient laws nod coatonis of
deatb, to show him again in Old Castile, impiously raking him Out of
the grave, wherein he lies really and tmly interredj utterly unable ever
to make another sally, or attempt another expedition ; tor enough has
been done to eipoae the follies of knight-errantry by those Be has
already happily accomplished, and which in this and other countries
have gained lum so much applause. Iliua shalt tlioa have fulfilled thy
Christian dutr in giving salntary admonition to those who wish thee
ill; and I shall rest satisfied, and proud also, to have been the first
author who enjoyed the felicity of witnessing the full effects of his
honest labonra ; for the sole object of mine was to emose to the con-
tempt they deserred the extravagant and sillvtricksofcluTalTy. which
this of my true and geooine Don Quiiote has nearly accomplished;
their credit in the world being now aetnally tottering: and will doobUeu
soon sink ahogether, never to rise again. Farewell."

A.OOi^lc

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