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diff --git a/old/55106-0.txt b/old/55106-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fcaf12f..0000000 --- a/old/55106-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7038 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Don Qvixote of the Mancha, by Judge Parry - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Don Qvixote of the Mancha - Retold by Judge Parry - -Author: Judge Parry - -Illustrator: Walter Crane - -Release Date: July 13, 2017 [EBook #55106] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DON QVIXOTE OF THE MANCHA *** - - - - -Produced by Chris Curnow, Nahum Maso i Carcases and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - Transcriber's Notes: - -Obvious punctuation errors and misprints have been corrected. - -Text in Italics is indicated between _underscores_. - -Text in Small Capitals has been replaced by regular uppercase text. - -Blank pages present in the printed original have been deleted in the -e-text version. - - * * * * * - - - - - DON QUIXOTE - OF THE MANCHA - - - - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE TESTING HIS HELMET] - - - - - [Illustration] - - DON QUIXOTE - OF THE MANCHA - - RETOLD - BY - JUDGE - PARRY - - ILLUSTRATED - BY - WALTER - CRANE - - NEW YORK - JOHN LANE COMPANY - 1919 - - - - - PREFACE - - -A version of _Don Quixote_ which is appended to Mr. Walter Crane's -illustrations needs perhaps no apology, but I desire to state briefly -what I have endeavoured to do. No existing abridgment of _Don Quixote_, -known to me, gives in simple narrative form the adventures of Knight -and Squire, with as much of the wisdom and humour of their discourse -as would be within the grasp of the younger generation of readers. -This—_The Story of Don Quixote_, as I call it—I have tried to -produce. In doing it I have made use of all the English translations, -but the basis of this book is Thomas Shelton's translation, the -language of which seems to me better to express the humour of Cervantes -than any other. Many will consider such a task in the nature of -sacrilege or, at the best, verging on the impertinent. With these views -I have much sympathy myself. But at least, let it be understood that -all I have attempted to do is to tell a well-known story in print, as -one who loves it would seek to tell it in words, to those around his -own fireside; in the hope that some may gather from this story that -there is a vast storehouse of humour and wisdom awaiting them in the -book itself. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAP. PAGE - - I. An Introduction to that famous gentleman, Don - Quixote of the Mancha, 1 - - II. Of the First Sally that Don Quixote made to - seek Adventures, 7 - - III. Of the Pleasant Manner of the Knighting of Don - Quixote, 14 - - IV. Of what befell our Knight when he left the Inn, 21 - - V. How Don Quixote returned home, and what happened - to his Library, and how he sallied - forth a second time to seek Adventures, 30 - - VI. Of the dreadful and never-to-be-imagined Adventure - of the Windmills, and of the fearful - Battle which the gallant Biscayan fought - with Don Quixote, 38 - - VII. Of what passed between Don Quixote and the - Goatherds, and of the unfortunate Adventure - with the Yanguesian Carriers, 48 - - VIII. How Don Quixote arrived at an Inn which he - imagined to be a Castle, and there cured - himself and Sancho with the Balsam of - Fierabras, 58 - - IX. How Sancho paid the Reckoning at the Inn - which Don Quixote supposed was a Castle, 68 - - X. Of the Adventure of the Two Armies, 75 - - XI. Of a wonderful Adventure which Don Quixote - went through without peril to himself or - Sancho, 83 - - XII. The great Adventure and rich Winning of the - Helmet of Mambrino, 92 - - XIII. How Don Quixote set at liberty many poor - Wretches who were being taken to a - Place to which they had no wish to go, 98 - - XIV. Of what befell Don Quixote in the Brown - Mountains, 108 - - XV. The Story of Cardenio, 118 - - XVI. Of the Strange Adventures that happened to - the Knight of the Mancha in the Brown - Mountains, and of the Penance he did - there in imitation of Beltenebros, 126 - - XVII. Of Sancho's Journey to the Lady Dulcinea, 136 - - XVIII. The Story of Cardenio continued, 143 - - XIX. The Story of Dorothea, who loved Don - Fernando, 152 - - XX. Of the pleasant Plan they carried out to persuade - Don Quixote not to continue his - Penance, 160 - - XXI. Of the Journey to the Inn, 168 - - XXII. The Story Sancho Panza told his Master of - his Visit to the Lady Dulcinea, 177 - - XXIII. What happened during their further Journey - towards the Inn, 184 - - XXIV. Of the extraordinary Battle which Don - Quixote waged with what he took to - be a Giant, 191 - - XXV. Which treats of other rare Adventures which - happened at the Inn, 198 - - XXVI. Wherein is continued the History of the - famous Princess Micomicona, 205 - - XXVII. Of the strange Enchantment of the Unfortunate - Knight, 212 - - XXVIII. Wherein is continued the wonderful Adventures - at the Inn, 220 - - XXIX. Wherein is finally decided the Dispute about - Mambrino's Helmet and the Pannel, 227 - - XXX. In which is finished the notable Adventures - of our good Knight, 236 - - - - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - FULL PAGES - - - TITLE-PAGE. - - DON QUIXOTE TESTING HIS VISOR, _Frontispiece_ - - DON QUIXOTE KNIGHTED BY THE INNKEEPER, _facing page_ 14 - - THE WINDMILLS, " 38 - - THE GOATHERDS, " 48 - - THE TOSSING OF SANCHO, " 68 - - THE HELMET OF MAMBRINO, " 92 - - MEETING CARDENIO, " 108 - - DON QUIXOTE'S PENANCE, " 126 - - MEETING DOROTHEA, " 160 - - THE WINE-SKINS, " 191 - - DON QUIXOTE'S ENCHANTMENT, " 212 - - - HALF PAGES - - PAGE - - DON QUIXOTE WATCHING HIS ARMOUR, 7 - - DON QUIXOTE TO THE RESCUE OF ANDREW, 21 - - THE DESTRUCTION OF DON QUIXOTE'S LIBRARY, 30 - - THE MANNER OF DON QUIXOTE'S TRAVEL TO THE INN, 58 - - OF THE ADVENTURE OF THE TWO ARMIES, 75 - - OF A WONDERFUL ADVENTURE, 83 - - DON QUIXOTE FREES THE GALLEY SLAVES, 98 - - THE STORY OF CARDENIO, 118 - - THE CURATE AND THE BARBER IN DISGUISE, 136 - - THE STORY OF CARDENIO CONTINUED, 143 - - THE DISCOVERY OF DOROTHEA, 152 - - SANCHO PANZA RECOVERS HIS DAPPLE, 168 - - SANCHO'S STORY OF HIS VISIT TO THE LADY - DULCINEA, 177 - - ANDREW SALUTES DON QUIXOTE, 184 - - OF THE RARE ADVENTURES AT THE INN, 198 - - DON QUIXOTE ADDRESSING DOROTHEA, 205 - - THE DISPUTED POMMEL, 220 - - DON QUIXOTE ARRESTED, 227 - - THE MANNER OF DON QUIXOTE'S RETURN HOME, 236 - - - - - CHAPTER I - - An Introduction to that famous gentleman, - Don Quixote of the Mancha - - -This is the story that Miguel de Cervantes, Spaniard, published in -1605, which the world has been reading again and again ever since. - -Once upon a time there lived in a certain village in a province of -Spain called the Mancha, a gentleman named Quixada or Queseda—for -indeed historians differ about this—whose house was full of old -lances, halberds, and such other armours and weapons. He was, besides, -the owner of an ancient target or shield, a raw-boned steed, and a -swift greyhound. His pot consisted daily of common meats, some lentils -on Fridays, and perhaps a roast pigeon for Sunday's dinner. His dress -was a black suit with velvet breeches, and slippers of the same colour, -which he kept for holidays, and a suit of homespun which he wore on -week-days. - -On the purchase of these few things he spent the small rents that came -to him every year. He had in his house a woman-servant of about some -forty years old, a Niece not yet twenty, and a lad that served him -both in field and at home, and could saddle his horse or manage a -pruning-hook. - -The master himself was about fifty years old, a strong, hard-featured -man with a withered face. He was an early riser, and had once been very -fond of hunting. But now for a great portion of the year he applied -himself wholly to reading the old books of Knighthood, and this with -such keen delight that he forgot all about the pleasures of the chase, -and neglected all household matters. His mania and folly grew to such a -pitch that he sold many acres of his lands to buy books of the exploits -and adventures of the Knights of old. These he took for true and -correct histories, and when his friends the Curate of the village, or -Mr. Nicholas the worthy Barber of the town, came to see him, he would -dispute with them as to which of the Knights of romance had done the -greatest deeds. - -So eagerly did he plunge into the reading of these books that he many -times spent whole days and nights poring over them; and in the end, -through little sleep and much reading, his brain became tired, and he -fairly lost his wits. His fancy was filled with those things that he -read, of enchantments, quarrels, battles, challenges, wounds, wooings, -loves, tempests, and other impossible follies, and those romantic tales -so firmly took hold of him that he believed no history to be so certain -and sincere as they were. - -Finally, his wit being extinguished, he was seized with one of the -strangest whims that ever madman stumbled on in this world, for it -seemed to him right and necessary that he himself should become a -Knight Errant, and ride through the world in arms to seek adventures -and practise in person all that he had read about the Knights of -old. Therefore he resolved that he would make a name for himself by -revenging the injuries of others, and courting all manner of dangers -and difficulties, until in the end he should be rewarded for his valour -in arms by the crown of some mighty Empire. And first of all he caused -certain old rusty arms that belonged to his great-grandfather, and -had lain for many years neglected and forgotten in a by-corner of his -house, to be brought out and well scoured. He trimmed them and dressed -them as well as he could, and then saw that they had something wanting, -for instead of a proper helmet they had only a morion or headpiece, -like a steel bonnet without any visor. This his industry supplied, for -he made a visor for his helmet by patching and pasting certain papers -together, and this pasteboard fitted to the morion gave it all the -appearance of a real helmet. Then, to make sure that it was strong -enough, he out with his sword and gave it a blow or two, and with the -very first did quite undo that which had cost him a week to make. He -did not at all approve the ease with which it was destroyed, and to -make things better he placed certain iron bars within it, in such a -manner that made him feel sure it was now sound and strong, without -putting it to a second trial. - -He next visited his horse, who though he had more corners than a -Spanish _real_ or shilling, which in those days was anything but -round, and had nothing on him but skin and bone, yet he seemed to -him a better steed than Bucephalus, the noble animal that carried -Alexander the Great when he went to battle. He spent four days -inventing a name for his horse, saying to himself that it was not fit -that so famous a Knight's horse, and so good a beast, should want a -known name. Therefore he tried to find a name that should both give -people some notion of what he had been before he was the steed of a -Knight Errant, and also what he now was; for, seeing that his lord and -master was going to change his calling, it was only right that his -horse should have a new name, famous and high-sounding, and worthy -of his new position in life. And after having chosen, made up, put -aside, and thrown over any number of names as not coming up to his -idea, he finally hit upon Rozinante, a name in his opinion sublime and -well-sounding, expressing in a word what he had been when he was a -simple carriage horse, and what was expected of him in his new dignity. - -The name being thus given to his horse, he made up his mind to give -himself a name also, and in that thought laboured another eight days. -Finally he determined to call himself Don Quixote, which has made -people think that his name was Quixada and not Queseda, as others -have said; and remembering that the great Knights of olden time were -not satisfied with a mere dry name, but added to it the name of their -kingdom or country, so he like a good Knight added to his own that also -of his province, and called himself Don Quixote of the Mancha, whereby -he declared his birthplace and did honour to his country by taking it -for his surname. - -His armour being scoured, his morion transformed into a helmet, his -horse named, and himself furnished with a new name, he considered that -now he wanted nothing but a lady on whom he might bestow his service -and affection. 'For,' he said to himself, remembering what he had -read in the books of knightly adventures, 'if I should by good hap -encounter with some Giant, as Knights Errant ordinarily do, and if I -should overthrow him with one blow to the ground, or cut him with a -stroke in two halves, or finally overcome and make him yield to me, it -would be only right and proper that I should have some lady to whom I -might present him. Then would he, entering my sweet lady's presence, -say unto her with a humble and submissive voice: "Madam, I am the -Giant Caraculiambro, Lord of the Island called Malindrania, whom the -never-too-much-praised Knight Don Quixote of the Mancha hath overcome -in single combat. He hath commanded me to present myself to your -greatness, that it may please your Highness to dispose of me according -to your liking."' - -You may believe that the heart of the Knight danced for joy when he -made that grand speech, and he was even more pleased when he had found -out one whom he might call his lady. For, they say, there lived in the -next village to his own a hale, buxom country wench with whom he was -sometime in love, though for the matter of that she had never known -of it or taken any notice of him whatever. She was called Aldonca -Lorenso, and her he thought fittest to honour as the lady of his fancy. -Then he began to search about in his mind for a name that should not -vary too much from her own, but should at the same time show people -that she was a Princess or lady of quality. Thus it was that he called -her Dulcinea of Toboso, a name sufficiently strange, romantic, and -musical for the lady of so brave a Knight. And now, having taken to -himself both armour, horse, and lady fair, he was ready to go forth and -seek adventures. - - - - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE WATCHING HIS ARMOUR] - - - - - CHAPTER II - - Of the First Sally that Don Quixote made to - seek Adventures - - -All his preparations being made, he could no longer resist the desire -of carrying out his plans, his head being full of the wrongs he -intended to put right, the errors he wished to amend, and the evil -deeds he felt himself called upon to punish. And, therefore, without -telling any living creature, and unseen of anybody, somewhat before -daybreak—it being one of the warmest days in July—he armed himself -from head to foot, mounted on Rozinante, laced on his strange helmet, -gathered up his target, seized his lance, and through the back door -of his yard sallied forth into the fields, marvellously cheerful -and content to see how easily he had started on his new career. But -scarcely was he clear of the village when he was struck by a terrible -thought, and one which did well-nigh overthrow all his plans. For he -recollected that he had never been knighted, and therefore, according -to the laws of Knighthood, neither could he nor ought he to combat with -any Knight. And even if he were a Knight, he remembered to have read -that as a new Knight he ought to wear white armour without any device -upon his shield until he should win it by force of arms. - -These thoughts made him waver a little in his plan; but more for the -reason that his head was full of his folly than for any other, he -determined to cause himself to be knighted by the first he met, as -others had done of whom he had read in the books which had so turned -his brain. As to the white armour, he resolved at the first opportunity -to scour his own until it should be whiter than ermine; and, having -satisfied himself with these intentions, he pursued his way without -following any other road than that which his horse was pleased to -choose, believing that to be the most correct way of meeting with -knightly adventures. And as he rode along he exclaimed to the empty -air as if he had been actually in love: 'O Princess Dulcinea, Lady of -this captive heart, much wrong hast thou done me by dismissing me and -reproaching me with thy cruel commandment not to appear before thy -beauty! I pray thee, sweet Lady, to remember this thy faithful slave, -who for thy love suffers so many tortures.' - -A thousand other ravings, after the style and manner that his books had -taught him, did he add to this as he travelled along, meeting with no -adventure worthy to be set down, whilst the sun mounted so swiftly and -with so great heat that it would have been sufficient to have melted -his brains if he had had any left. - -He journeyed all that day long, and at night both he and his horse -were tired and marvellously pressed by hunger, and looking about him -on every side to see whether he could discover any Castle to which he -might retire for the night, he saw an Inn near unto the highway on -which he travelled, which was as welcome a sight to him as if he had -seen a guiding star. Then spurring his horse he rode towards it as fast -as he might, and arrived there much about nightfall. - -There stood by chance at the Inn door two jolly peasant women who were -travelling towards Seville with some carriers, who happened to take up -their lodging in that Inn the same evening. And as our Knight Errant -believed all that he saw or heard to take place in the same manner as -he had read in his books, he no sooner saw the Inn than he fancied -it to be a Castle with four turrets and pinnacles of shining silver, -with a drawbridge, a deep moat, and all such things as belong to grand -Castles. Drawing slowly towards it, he checked Rozinante with the -bridle when he was close to the Inn, and rested awhile to see if any -dwarf would mount on the battlements to give warning with the sound -of a trumpet how some Knight did approach the Castle; but seeing they -stayed so long, and Rozinante was eager to get up to his stable, he -went to the Inn door, and there beheld the two wenches that stood at -it, whom he supposed to be two beautiful damsels or lovely ladies -that did solace themselves before the Castle gates. At that moment it -happened that a certain swineherd, as he gathered together his hogs, -blew the horn which was wont to bring them together, and at once Don -Quixote imagined it was some dwarf who gave notice of his arrival; -and he rode up to the Inn door with marvellous delight. The ladies, -when they beheld one armed in that manner with lance and target, made -haste to run into the Inn; but Don Quixote, seeing their fear by their -flight, lifted up his pasteboard visor, showed his withered and dusky -face, and spoke to them thus: 'Let not your ladyships fly nor fear any -harm, for it does not belong to the order of Knighthood which I profess -to wrong anybody, much less such high-born damsels as your appearance -shows you to be.' - -The wenches looked at him very earnestly, and sought with their eyes -for his face, which the ill-fashioned helmet concealed; but when they -heard themselves called high-born damsels, they could not contain -their laughter, which was so loud that Don Quixote was quite ashamed -of them and rebuked them, saying: 'Modesty is a comely ornament of the -beautiful, and too much laughter springing from trifles is great folly; -but I do not tell you this to make you the more ashamed, for my desire -is none other than to do you all the honour and service I may.' - -This speech merely increased their laughter, and with it his anger, -which would have passed all bounds if the Innkeeper had not come out at -this instant. Now this Innkeeper was a man of exceeding fatness, and -therefore, as some think, of a very peaceable disposition; and when he -saw that strange figure, armed in such fantastic armour, he was very -nearly keeping the two women company in their merriment and laughter. -But being afraid of the owner of such a lance and target, he resolved -to behave civilly for fear of what might happen, and thus addressed -him: 'Sir Knight! if your Worship do seek for lodging, we have no bed -at liberty, but you shall find all other things in abundance.' - -To which Don Quixote, noting the humility of the Constable of the -Castle—for such he took him to be—replied: 'Anything, Sir Constable, -may serve me, for my arms are my dress, and the battlefield is my bed.' - -While he was speaking, the Innkeeper laid hand on Don Quixote's stirrup -and helped him to alight. This he did with great difficulty and pain, -for he had not eaten a crumb all that day. He then bade the Innkeeper -have special care of his horse, saying he was one of the best animals -that ever ate bread. - -The Innkeeper looked at Rozinante again and again, but he did not seem -to him half so good as Don Quixote valued him. However, he led him -civilly to the stable, and returned to find his guest in the hands of -the high-born damsels, who were helping him off with his armour. They -had taken off his back and breast plates, but they could in no way get -his head and neck out of the strange, ill-fashioned helmet which he -had fastened on with green ribands. - -Now these knots were so impossible to untie that the wenches would -have cut them, but this Don Quixote would not agree to. Therefore he -remained all the night with his helmet on, and looked the drollest and -strangest figure you could imagine. And he was now so pleased with the -women, whom he still took to be ladies and dames of the Castle, that -he said to them: 'Never was Knight so well attended on and served by -ladies as was Don Quixote. When he departed from his village, damsels -attended on him and princesses on his horse. O ladies! Rozinante is the -name of my steed, and I am called Don Quixote, and the time shall come -when your ladyships may command me and I obey, and then the valour of -mine arm shall discover the desire I have to do you service.' - -The women could make nothing of his talk, but asked him if he would -eat, and Don Quixote replying that such was his desire, there was -straightway laid a table at the Inn door. The Host brought out a -portion of badly boiled haddocks, and a black, greasy loaf, which -was all the Inn could supply. But the manner of Don Quixote's eating -was the best sport in the world, for with his helmet on he could put -nothing into his mouth himself if others did not help him to find -his way, and therefore one of the wenches served his turn at that, -and helped to feed him. But they could not give him drink after that -manner, and he would have remained dry for ever if the Innkeeper had -not bored a cane, and putting one end in his mouth, poured the wine -down the other. And all this he suffered rather than cut the ribands of -his helmet. - -And as he sat at supper the swineherd again sounded his horn, and -Don Quixote was still firm in the belief that he was in some famous -Castle where he was served with music, and that the stale haddock was -fresh trout, the bread of the finest flour, the two wenches high-born -damsels, and the Innkeeper the Constable of the Castle. Thus he thought -his career of Knight Errant was well begun, but he was still greatly -troubled by the thought that he was not yet dubbed Knight, and could -not therefore rightly follow his adventures until he received the -honour of Knighthood. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - Of the Pleasant Manner of the Knighting of - Don Quixote - - -When he had finished his sorry supper, he took his host with him to -the stable, and shutting the door threw himself down upon his knees -before him, saying: 'I will never rise from this place where I am, Sir -Constable, until your courtesy shall grant unto me a boon that I mean -to demand of you, something which will add to your renown and to the -profit of all the human race.' - -The Innkeeper, seeing his guest at his feet, and hearing him speak -these words, stood confounded at the sight, not knowing what he would -say or do next, and tried to make him arise. But all was in vain until -he had promised him that he would grant him any gift that he sought at -his hands. - -'Signor,' said Don Quixote, rising from his knees, 'I did never expect -less from your great magnificence, and now I will tell you that the -boon which I demand of you, and which you have so generously granted, -is that to-morrow in the morning you will dub me Knight. This night -I will watch mine armour in the Chapel of your Castle, and in the -morning, as I have said, the rest of my desires shall be fulfilled, -that I may set out in a proper manner throughout the four parts of -the world to seek adventures to the benefit of the poor and needy, as -is the duty of Knighthood and of Knights Errant.' - - [Illustration: THE KNIGHTING OF DON QUIXOTE] - -The Innkeeper, who was a bit of a jester, and had before thought -that the wits of his guest were none of the best, was sure that his -suspicions were true when he heard him speak in this manner. And in -order to enjoy a joke at his expense, he resolved to fall in with his -humour, and told him that there was great reason in what he desired, -which was only natural and proper in a Knight of such worth as he -seemed to be. He added further that there was no Chapel in his Castle -where he might watch his arms, for he had broken it down to build it -up anew. But, nevertheless, he knew well that in a case of necessity -they might be watched in any other place, and therefore he might watch -them that night in the lower court of the Castle, where in the morning -he, the Innkeeper, would perform all the proper ceremonies, so that he -should be made not only a dubbed Knight, but such a one as should not -have a fellow in the whole universe. - -The Innkeeper now gave orders that Don Quixote should watch his armour -in a great yard that lay near unto one side of the Inn, wherefore he -gathered together all his arms, laid them on a cistern near to a well, -and buckling on his target he laid hold of his lance and walked up and -down before the cistern very demurely, until night came down upon the -scene. - -In the meantime the roguish Innkeeper told all the rest that lodged -in the Inn of the folly of his guest, the watching of his arms, and -the Knighthood which he expected to receive. They all wondered very -much at so strange a kind of folly, and going out to behold him from a -distance, they saw that sometimes he marched to and fro with a quiet -gesture, other times leaning upon his lance he looked upon his armour -for a good space of time without beholding any other thing save his -arms. - -Although it was now night, yet was the moon so clear that everything -which the Knight did was easily seen by all beholders. And now one of -the carriers that lodged in the Inn resolved to give his mules some -water, and for that purpose it was necessary to move Don Quixote's -armour that lay on the cistern. - -Seeing the carrier approach, Don Quixote called to him in a loud voice: -'O thou, whosoever thou art, bold Knight, who dares to touch the armour -of the bravest adventurer that ever girded sword, look well what thou -doest, and touch them not if thou meanest not to leave thy life in -payment for thy meddling!' - -The carrier took no notice of these words, though it were better for -him if he had, but laying hold of the armour threw it piece by piece -into the middle of the yard. - -When Don Quixote saw this, he lifted up his eyes towards heaven, and -addressing his thoughts, as it seemed, to his Lady Dulcinea, he said: -'Assist me, dear Lady, in this insult offered to thy vassal, and let -not thy favour and protection fail me in this my first adventure!' - -Uttering these and other such words, he let slip his target or shield, -and lifting up his lance with both hands he gave the carrier so round a -knock on his pate that it overthrew him on to the ground, and if he had -caught him a second he would not have needed any surgeon to cure him. -This done, he gathered up his armour again, and laying the pieces where -they had been before, he began walking up and down near them with as -much quietness as he did at first. - -But very soon afterwards another carrier, without knowing what had -happened, for his companion yet lay on the ground, came also to give -his mules water, and coming to take away the armour to get at the -cistern, Don Quixote let slip again his target, and lifting his lance -brought it down on the carrier's head, which he broke in several places. - -All the people in the Inn, and amongst them the Innkeeper, came running -out when they heard the noise, and Don Quixote seeing them seized his -target, and, drawing his sword, cried aloud: 'O Lady of all beauty, -now, if ever, is the time for thee to turn the eyes of thy greatness -on thy Captive Knight who is on the eve of so marvellous great an -adventure.' - -Saying this seemed to fill him with so great a courage, that if he had -been assaulted by all the carriers in the universe he would not have -retreated one step. - -The companions of the wounded men, seeing their fellows in so evil -a plight, began to rain stones on Don Quixote from a distance, who -defended himself as well as he might with his target, and durst not -leave the cistern lest he should appear to abandon his arms. - -The Innkeeper cried to them to let him alone, for he had already told -them that he was mad. But all the time Don Quixote cried out louder -than the Innkeeper, calling them all disloyal men and traitors, and -that the Lord of the Castle was a treacherous and bad Knight to allow -them to use a Knight Errant so basely; and if he had only received the -order of Knighthood he would have punished him soundly for his treason. -Then calling to the carriers he said: 'As for you base and rascally -ruffians, you are beneath my notice. Throw at me, approach, draw near -and do me all the hurt you may, for you shall ere long receive the -reward of your insolence.' - -These words, which he spoke with great spirit and boldness, struck -a terrible fear into all those who assaulted him, and, partly moved -by his threats and partly persuaded by the Innkeeper, they left off -throwing stones at him, and he allowed them to carry away the wounded -men, while he returned to his watch with great quietness and gravity. - -The Innkeeper did not very much like Don Quixote's pranks, and -therefore determined to shorten the ceremony and give him the order of -Knighthood at once before any one else was injured. Approaching him, -therefore, he made apologies for the insolence of the base fellows -who had thrown stones at him, and explained that it was not with his -consent, and that he thought them well punished for their impudence. -He added that it was not necessary for Don Quixote to watch his armour -any more, because the chief point of being knighted was to receive the -stroke of the sword on the neck and shoulder, and that ceremony he was -ready to perform at once. - -All this Don Quixote readily believed, and answered that he was most -eager to obey him, and requested him to finish everything as speedily -as possible. For, he said, as soon as he was knighted, if he was -assaulted again, he intended not to leave one person alive in all the -Castle, except those which the Constable should command, whom he would -spare for his sake. - -The Innkeeper, alarmed at what he said, and fearing lest he should -carry out his threat, set about the ceremony without delay. He brought -out his day-book, in which he wrote down the accounts of the hay and -straw which he sold to carriers who came to the Inn, and attended by -a small boy holding the end of a candle and walking before him, and -followed by the two women who were staying at the Inn, he approached -Don Quixote. He solemnly commanded him to kneel upon his knees, while -he mumbled something which he pretended to read out of the book that -he held in his hand. Then he gave him a good blow on the neck, and -after that another sound thwack over the shoulders with his own sword, -always as he did so continuing to mumble and murmur as though he were -reading something out of his book. This being done, he commanded one -of the damsels to gird on his sword, which she did with much grace and -cleverness. And it was with difficulty that they all kept from laughing -during this absurd ceremony, but what they had already seen of Don -Quixote's fury made them careful not to annoy him even by a smile. - -When she had girded on his sword, the damsel said: 'May you be a -fortunate Knight, and meet with good success in all your adventures.' - -Don Quixote asked her how she was called, that he might know to whom -he was obliged for the favours he had received. She answered with -great humility that she was named Tolosa, and was a butcher's daughter -of Toledo. Don Quixote replied requesting her to call herself from -henceforth the Lady Tolosa, which she promised to perform. The other -damsel buckled on his spurs, and when Don Quixote asked her name she -told him it was Molinera, and that she was daughter of an honest miller -of Antequera. Don Quixote entreated her also to call herself Lady -Molinera, and offered her new services and favours. - -These strange and never-before-seen ceremonies being ended, Don Quixote -could not rest until he was mounted on horseback that he might go to -seek adventures. He therefore caused Rozinante to be instantly saddled, -leaped on his back, and embracing the Innkeeper, thanked him in a -thousand wild and ridiculous ways for the great favour he had done him -in dubbing him Knight. The Innkeeper, who was only eager to be rid -of him without delay, answered him in the same fashion, and let him -march off without demanding from him a single farthing for his food or -lodging. - - - - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE TO THE RESCUE OF ANDREW] - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - Of what befell our Knight when he left - the Inn - - -It was dawn when Don Quixote went out from the Inn, so full of pleasure -to behold himself knighted that his very horse-girths were ready to -burst for joy. But calling to memory some advice that the Innkeeper had -given him, about the necessity of carrying with him money and clean -shirts when he went on his adventures, he determined to return to his -house and obtain these things, and also find for himself a Squire. For -this office he fixed in his own mind upon a ploughman, a neighbour of -his, a poor man who had many children, but yet a man who was very fit -as he thought to be his Squire. - -With this view he turned Rozinante towards his own village, who, -knowing that he was on his way home, began to trot along with so good a -will that he seemed not to touch the ground. - -He had not travelled far when he heard from a thicket hard by the -shrill cries of some weak and delicate mortal in grievous distress. - -No sooner did he hear them than he exclaimed: 'I am indeed thankful for -the favour done to me by giving me so soon an opportunity of performing -what is due to my profession, and gathering the fruits of my desires. -These cries doubtless come from some distressed man or woman who has -need of my protection and aid.' - -Then turning the reins, he guided Rozinante towards the place whence -the voice seemed to proceed. And within a few paces after he had -entered into the thicket, he saw a mare tied up to one oak, and to -another was tied a youth, all naked from the middle upward, of about -fifteen years of age. Now it was he that cried so pitifully, and not -without cause. For a sturdy fellow of a farmer was beating him soundly -with a girdle, accompanying each stroke with a reproof and piece of -advice, saying: 'The tongue must peace and the eyes be wary.' And the -boy, whose name was Andrew, answered: 'I will never do it again, good -master, I will never do it again. I promise to have more care of your -things from henceforth.' - -Seeing what passed, Don Quixote cried out with an angry voice: 'Ill it -beseems you, discourteous Knight, to deal thus with one that cannot -defend himself. Mount, therefore, on horseback and take thy lance (for -the Farmer had a lance leaning against the very same tree to which -his mare was tied), for I will make thee know that it is the act of a -coward to do that which thou dost.' - -The Farmer, beholding this strange figure buckled in armour, and -brandishing a lance over his head, gave himself up for a dead man, and -answered him with mild and submissive words, saying: 'Sir Knight, the -youth whom I am beating is mine own servant, and keepeth for me a flock -of sheep; but he is grown so negligent that he loseth one of them every -other day, and because I correct him for his carelessness and knavery, -he says I do it through covetousness and miserliness so as not to pay -him his due wages, but on my conscience I assure you he lies.' - -'What? The lie, in my presence, rascally clown!' cried Don Quixote. 'By -the sun that shines above us, I will run thee through and through with -my lance, base Carle! Pay him instantly, without another word, or I -will finish and destroy thee in a moment. Loose him forthwith!' - -The Farmer, hanging down his head, made no reply, but released poor -Andrew, of whom Don Quixote demanded how much his master owed him. -The boy answered that it was nine months' wages at seven _reals_ a -month. Casting it up, Don Quixote found that it amounted to sixty-three -_reals_, and commanded the Farmer to pay the money at once, unless he -had a mind to die for it. - -This the Farmer, who was in a terrible fright, promised to do, but -said he: 'The worst of it is, Sir Knight, that I have no money here. -Let Andrew come with me to my house, and I will pay him his wages to -the last _real_.' - -'I go with him?' said the boy, 'evil befall me if I do. No, Sir. I -don't intend to do that, for as soon as ever we were alone, he would -flay me alive.' - -'He will not dare to do it,' said Don Quixote, 'for my command is -sufficient to make him respect me. And on condition that he will swear -to me to carry out his promise, by the order of Knighthood which he -hath received, I will set him free and assure thee of the payment.' - -'Good your worship,' said the youth; 'mark well what you say, for -this man my master is no Knight, nor did he ever receive any order of -Knighthood. He is John Haldudo the rich, and lives at Quintanar.' - -'That is no matter,' said Don Quixote, 'for there may be Knights of the -Haldudos.' - -'The good Knight speaks well, friend Andrew,' said his master. 'Do me -but the pleasure to come with me, and I swear by all the orders of -Knighthood that are in the world to pay thee, as I have said, to the -last _real_.' - -'With this,' said Don Quixote, 'I will rest satisfied; and see that -thou fulfillest it as thou hast sworn. If not, I swear again to thee by -the same oath to return and seek thee out once more and chastise thee. -And I will find thee out, though thou didst hide thyself closer than a -lizard. And if thou desirest to know who it is that commands thee thus, -know that I am the valiant Don Quixote of the Mancha, the righter of -wrongs and the scourge of injustice.' - -Saying this, the Knight clapt spurs to his Rozinante, and was quickly -gone from him. - -The Farmer followed him with his eyes, and seeing that he was beyond -the wood and quite out of sight, he returned to Andrew and said: 'Come -to me, child, for I will pay thee what I owe thee, as that righter of -wrongs hath commanded.' - -'Upon my word,' said Andrew, 'you do well to fulfil the good Knight's -commandments. And I pray that he may live a thousand years, for he is -so brave and so just a judge that, if you pay me not, he will come back -and do all he promised.' - -'I also do believe the same,' said the Farmer; 'but for the much love I -bear thee, I will increase the debt that I may add to the payment.' - -And seizing him by the arm, he tied him again to the oak, where he gave -him so many blows as to leave him for dead. - -'Call now, Master Andrew,' said he, 'for thy righter of wrongs; and -thou shalt see that he cannot undo this, though I think I have not -finished the doing of it, for I have yet a desire to flay thee alive as -thou didst fear.' - -But he untied him at last, and gave him leave to go and seek out his -Judge, to the end that he might execute the sentence he had pronounced. -Andrew departed somewhat discontented, swearing to search for the -valiant Don Quixote of the Mancha, and relate to him point for point -all that had passed, that the Farmer might be repaid sevenfold. -Nevertheless he wept as he went along, and his master remained behind -laughing, and thus did the valiant Don Quixote right this wrong. - -As for the Knight, it appeared to him that he had made a very happy -and noble beginning to his feats of arms. And as he rode towards his -village, he recited to himself in a low voice these words: 'Well mayest -thou call thyself happy above all other women of the earth, O! above -all beauties, beautiful Dulcinea of Toboso; since it has fallen to thy -lot to hold submissive to thy will a Knight so renowned and valorous as -is and ever shall be, Don Quixote of the Mancha, who, as all the world -knows, but yesterday received the order of Knighthood, and to-day hath -destroyed the greatest outrage and wrong that injustice and cruelty -could commit. To-day hath he wrested the scourge from the hand of the -pitiless foe who so cruelly beat the delicate infant.' - -Soon afterwards he came to a spot where the road branched into four, -and there came into his fancy the cross-ways he had read of, where the -Knights Errant used to ponder which of the roads they should take. -And that he might imitate them, he let slip the reins on Rozinante's -neck, submitting his will to that of his steed, who followed his first -intention, which was to return home to his own stable. And having -travelled some two miles, Don Quixote discovered a great troop of -people, who, as it was afterwards known, were certain merchants of -Toledo, that rode towards Murcia to buy silks. They were six in number, -and came with their parasols or sun umbrellas, and four serving-men -a-horseback, and three lackeys. - -Scarce had Don Quixote perceived them when he straight imagined them -to be a new adventure. And so that he might imitate as far as possible -the passages which he had read in his books, he settled himself with a -gallant air and resolute bearing firmly in his stirrups, grasped his -lance, brought his target over his breast, and stood, waiting, posted -in the middle of the road, for those whom he took to be Knights Errant -like himself. - -And when they were so near that they might hear and see him, he lifted -up his voice and said: 'Let all the world stand and pass no further, -if all the world will not confess that there is not in all the world -a more beautiful damsel than the Empress of the Mancha, the peerless -Dulcinea of Toboso.' - -The merchants stopped at the sound of these words to behold the -marvellous and ridiculous shape of him that spake them, and at once -suspected the madness of the speaker. - -Curious to know the meaning of the confession he demanded from them, -one of the merchants, who was a bit of a wag and very sharp-witted, -said to Don Quixote: 'Sir Knight, we know not who that good lady may be -you speak of. Show her therefore to us, and if she be as beautiful as -you report, we will with right good-will, and without further trouble, -confess the truth of what you demand.' - -'If I did show her to you,' replied Don Quixote, 'what merit would -there be in confessing a truth which is clear to all beholders? The -importance of my demand is that without seeing her you must believe -it, which if you refuse to do I challenge you all to battle, ye -proud preposterous crew. And now come on! One by one as the order of -Knighthood requires, or all at once as is the custom and base usage of -those of your breed. Here I await you, confiding in the right I have on -my side.' - -'Sir Knight,' replied the Merchant, 'I request you in the name of all -the Princes here present, that in order that we may not burden our -conscience by confessing a thing which we have never beheld nor heard, -you will be pleased to show us some portrait of the lady, although -it be no bigger than a grain of wheat. For I do believe that we are -already so much on your side, that though her portrait showed her to us -a-squint of one eye, and wearing a hump on her back, we should say all -that you wish in her favour.' - -'Infamous rabble,' replied Don Quixote, mightily enraged; 'she is -neither crook-eyed nor hump-backed, but is straighter than a spindle -of Guadamara. Dearly shall you pay for the foul words you have uttered -against so immense a beauty as my Lady.' So saying, he lowered his -lance against him who had spoken, with such wrath and fury, that if -Rozinante had not tripped and fallen in the midst of his career, it -would have fared ill with the rash Merchant. - -But, alas! Rozinante fell; his master went rolling some distance across -the field, and though he struggled to arise yet was he never able, so -encumbered was he by his lance, target, spurs, helmet, and the weight -of his old-fashioned armour. And while he strove to rise he shouted; -'Fly not, cowardly brood! Tarry a little, ye base caitiffs! for not by -any fault of mine, but of my horse, am I thus discomfited!' - -One of the lackeys with the company, hearing these saucy speeches of -the poor overthrown Knight, could not forbear returning him an answer -on his ribs, and coming up to him he seized his lance, and having -broken it into pieces, began with one of them to belabour him, so that -in spite of his armour he pounded him like wheat in a mill. His masters -called out to him to let the gentleman be, but the lackey was angry and -would not give up the game. And running for the other pieces of the -broken lance, he shivered them all over the poor fallen Knight, who -never closed his mouth, but cried out against them for brigands and -murderers, for such he took them to be. - -At last the lackey was tired out, and the merchants followed on their -way talking about the poor belaboured Knight, who when he saw himself -alone, again made trial to arise; but if he could not do so when -sound and well, how could he after being pounded and almost beaten -to a jelly? And yet he still considered himself fortunate, for he -persuaded himself that this disgrace was one of those things that must -of occasion happen to a Knight Errant. And though he could not rise on -account of being mauled and bruised from head to foot, he put it all -down to the carelessness of his steed Rozinante. - - - - - [Illustration: THE DESTRUCTION OF DON QUIXOTE'S LIBRARY] - - - - - CHAPTER V - - How Don Quixote returned home, and what - happened to his Library, and how he sallied - forth a second time to seek Adventures - - -Finding that he was unable to stir, the Knight pleased himself whilst -lying on the ground by remembering and repeating aloud passages from -his favourite books. - -He was reciting the ballad of the Marquess of Mantua, in which a noble -knight has an adventure similar to his own, when there chanced to pass -by a labouring man, a neighbour of Don Quixote's, who was going to take -a load of wheat to the mill. - -He, seeing a man stretched on the ground, came over to him and asked -who he was and what mishap had befallen him. - -Don Quixote at once believed that the labourer was no other than the -Marquess of Mantua himself, and went on with his ballad which gave an -account of his disgrace. - -The labourer was astonished at all these follies, and taking off the -Knight's visor, which was all broken to pieces with the beating, he -wiped his face, which was covered with dust; and when he had wiped -it he recognised him and cried: 'Senor Quixada (for so was he named -before he became a Knight Errant), who has brought your Worship to this -plight?' - -But the Knight only went on with his ballad, and made no answer. - -Seeing this, the good man took off as well as he could his breastplate -and corselet to see if he had any wound, but he found no blood nor sign -of any. He tried to raise him from the ground, which he did at last -with much ado. Then he mounted him upon his ass, which seemed a safer -carriage than the Knight's steed. Gathering up his arms, even to the -fragments of the lance, he fastened them upon Rozinante, whose bridle -he took hold of, as well as of the ass's halter; and so they journeyed -towards the village, Don Quixote continuing to mutter his nonsensical -stories. - -In this manner they arrived at last at their village about sunset, but -the labourer waited until it grew somewhat dusk, so that folk should -not see the Knight so simply mounted. - -When he entered the village and went to Don Quixote's house, he found -all in uproar there. For the Curate and the Barber—Don Quixote's great -friends—were there, and his Housekeeper was crying to them at the top -of her voice: 'What think ye has befallen my Master? For two days both -he and his horse, together with the target, lance, and armour, have -been missing. Woe is me! I am certain those horrid books of Knighthood -have turned his brain, for I have often heard him say that he would -become a Knight Errant and go and seek adventures throughout the world.' - -And Don Quixote's Niece, who was there also, said to Master Nicholas -the Barber: 'And indeed I have known my dear Uncle continue reading -these unhappy books of "disadventures" two days and two nights -together. At the end of which, throwing down the book, he would lay -hand on his sword and would fall a-slashing of the walls. And when he -was wearied he would say that he had slain four Giants as great as four -towers. And I take great blame to myself that I did not tell you all -this before, that you might have burned those wretched books which have -caused all the mischief.' - -'So I say, too,' said the Curate; 'and to-morrow they shall feed the -flames, so that they may do no further harm.' - -By this time the labourer and Don Quixote had come to the house, and -all the household hearing them arrive, ran to embrace him. And Don -Quixote—who had not yet dismounted from the ass, for he was not -able—said: 'Stand still and touch me not, for I return very sore -wounded and hurt through the fault of my steed. Carry me to bed, and -summon, if it be possible, the wise Urganda, that she may examine and -cure my wounds.' - -'Come, my dear Master,' said his Housekeeper, 'and welcome, for, -without sending for that Urganda, we shall know how to cure thee well -enough. Accursed, say I once again, and a hundred times accursed, may -those books of Knighthood be which have brought you to such a pass.' - -With that they bore him up to his bed, and searching for his wounds -could not find any. Then he said he was all one bruise, through having -a grievous fall with his horse Rozinante, in a fight with ten Giants, -the most enormous and the boldest that could be found on earth. - -'So ho!' said the Curate, 'there are Giants about, are there? By mine -honesty I will burn them all before to-morrow night.' - -The next day, while the Knight was asleep, the Curate asked the Niece -for the keys of the library, which she gave him with a very good will. -Then they all went in, the Housekeeper with them, and found more than a -hundred very large volumes well bound, besides other smaller ones. - -The Curate asked the Barber to hand him down the books from their -shelves one by one, that he might see whether any deserved to escape -the fire. - -'No, no!' cried the Niece, 'you ought not to pardon any of them, seeing -they have all been offenders. Better fling them all out of the window -into the yard and make a heap of them, and then make a bonfire of them -where the smoke will offend nobody.' - -With that the Housekeeper caught hold of some of the largest and flung -them out of the window. But the Curate took down several from the -shelves and began to examine them carefully, whilst the women cried out -for their destruction. - -Whilst they were thus busied, Don Quixote began to cry aloud, saying: -'This way, this way, valorous Knights! Show the force of your valiant -arms lest we lose the tournament.' - -Called away by this noise and clamour they left the books and ran to -Don Quixote, who had risen from his bed and was repeating his outcries -and ravings, cutting about with his sword all over the room with -slashes and back strokes, as wide awake as if he had never been asleep. -Wherefore, taking him up in their arms, they returned him by main force -into his bed. - -With some difficulty they persuaded him to rest where he was, and after -he had eaten his breakfast he fell asleep once again. - -That same night the Housekeeper set fire to and burned all the books -in the yard, and some went to the flames that had no harm in them; and -thus was fulfilled the old proverb, 'The Saint sometimes pays for the -Sinner.' - -Now one of the remedies which the Curate and the Barber suggested for -their friend's malady was to wall up and close his library, so that -when he rose he should not find the books, and they might tell him the -Enchanters had carried them off, room and all. - -This was done, and when two days afterwards Don Quixote rose from his -bed, the first thing he did was to go and visit his books. Not finding -the library where he had left it, he went from one corner of the house -to the other, looking for it. Sometimes he came to the place where the -door had been, and felt it with his hands, then would turn his eyes up -and down, here and there, to seek it, without speaking a word. - -But at last he asked the Housekeeper where his library was. She being -well schooled what she should answer, replied: 'What library? There -is neither library nor books in this house now, for an Enchanter has -carried them all away.' - -'Yes, dear Uncle,' said his Niece, 'while you were away, an Enchanter -came upon a cloud, and, alighting from a serpent on which he was -riding, entered the library, and what he did therein I know not. But -within a while after, he fled out at the roof of the house, and left -all the place full of smoke, and when we went to see what he had done -we found neither room nor books.' - -'This must be the work of the learned Enchanter Freston,' replied Don -Quixote seriously; 'a great enemy of mine who has a grudge against me, -for he knows through his arts and his learning that I am in course of -time to fight and vanquish in single combat a Knight whom he favours. -But I tell him it is useless to oppose what is decreed.' - -'Who doubts that, dear Uncle?' said his Niece. 'But why mix yourself -up in these quarrels? Better stay at home peacefully, for remember the -proverb says, "Many who go for wool come back shorn."' - -'O Niece of mine,' said Don Quixote, 'how little dost thou understand -the matter! Before I am shorn I will pluck the beards of all who think -to touch but a hair of me.' - -To these words the women made no reply because they saw his anger -increase. - -For fifteen days after this he remained quietly at home, without -showing any signs of repeating his follies, and during this time he had -many arguments with his friends the Curate and the Barber about his -favourite Knights Errant. At the same time he was persuading a certain -labourer, his neighbour, an honest man, but one of very shallow wit, -to go away with him and serve him as Squire. In the end he gave him -so many fair words and promises that the poor fellow determined to go -with him. Don Quixote, among other things, told him that he ought to be -very pleased to depart with him, for at some time or other an adventure -might befall which should in the twinkling of an eye win him an Island -and leave him Governor thereof. On the faith of these and other like -promises, Sancho Panza (for so he was called) forsook his wife and -children and took service as Squire to his neighbour. - -Don Quixote then set about to provide himself with money. This he did -by selling one thing, pawning another, and making bad bargains all -round. At last he got a pretty sum, and having patched up his broken -helmet as best he could, he told Sancho Panza the day and hour on -which he meant to start. He also charged him to provide himself with -a wallet, which Sancho promised to do, and said that he also meant to -take a very good Ass named Dapple along with him, which he had of his -own, because he was not used to travel much a-foot. - -In the matter of the Ass, Don Quixote hesitated a little, calling to -mind whether ever he had read that any Knight Errant was ever attended -by a Squire mounted on ass-back, but no such case occurred to his -memory. Nevertheless, he decided that the Ass should be taken, with the -intention of providing his Squire with a more dignified mount, when he -had a chance, by unhorsing the first discourteous Knight he met with. - -All this being arranged, Sancho Panza, without bidding his wife and -children farewell, and Don Quixote, without saying good-bye to his -Housekeeper and Niece, sallied forth from the village one night, -unknown to any person living. They travelled so far that night that at -daybreak they were safe against discovery, even if they were pursued. -And Sancho Panza rode along on his beast like a patriarch with his -wallet and bottle, full of a huge desire to see himself Governor of the -Island which his Master had promised him. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - Of the dreadful and never-to-be-imagined Adventure - of the Windmills, and of the fearful Battle - which the gallant Biscayan fought with - Don Quixote - - -Whilst they were journeying along, Sancho Panza said to his Master: -'I pray you have good care, Sir Knight, that you forget not that -government of the Island which you have promised me, for I shall be -able to govern it be it never so great.' - -And Don Quixote replied: 'Thou must understand, friend Sancho, that it -was a custom very much used by ancient Knights Errant, to make their -Squires Governors of the Islands and Kingdoms they conquered, and I -am resolved that so good a custom shall be kept up by me. And if thou -livest and I live, it may well be that I might conquer a Kingdom within -six days, and crown thee King of it.' - -'By the same token,' said Sancho Panza, 'if I were a King, then should -Joan my wife become a Queen and my children Princes?' - -'Who doubts of that?' said Don Quixote. - -'That do I,' replied Sancho Panza, 'for I am fully persuaded that -though it rained Kingdoms down upon the earth, none of them would sit -well on my wife Joan. She is not worth a farthing for a Queen. She -might scrape through as a Countess, but I have my doubts of that.' - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE AND THE WINDMILLS] - -As they were talking, they caught sight of some thirty or forty -windmills on a plain. As soon as Don Quixote saw them he said to his -Squire: 'Fortune is guiding our affairs better than we could desire. -For behold, friend Sancho, how there appear thirty or forty monstrous -Giants with whom I mean to do battle, and take all their lives. With -their spoils we will begin to be rich, for this is fair war, and it is -doing great service to clear away these evil fellows from off the face -of the earth.' - -'What Giants?' said Sancho amazed. - -'Those thou seest there,' replied his Master, 'with the long arms.' - -'Take care, Sir,' cried Sancho, 'for those we see yonder are not Giants -but windmills, and those things which seem to be arms are their sails, -which being whirled round by the wind make the mill go.' - -'It is clear,' answered Don Quixote, 'that thou art not yet experienced -in the matter of adventures. They are Giants, and if thou art afraid, -get thee away home, whilst I enter into cruel and unequal battle with -them.' - -So saying, he clapped spurs to Rozinante, without heeding the cries -by which Sancho Panza warned him that he was going to encounter not -Giants but windmills. For he would neither listen to Sancho's outcries, -nor mark what he said, but shouted to the windmills in a loud voice: -'Fly not, cowards and vile creatures, for it is only one Knight that -assaults you!' - -A slight breeze having sprung up at this moment, the great sail-arms -began to move, on seeing which Don Quixote shouted out again: 'Although -you should wield more arms than had the Giant Briareus, I shall make -you pay for your insolence!' - -Saying this, and commending himself most devoutly to his Lady Dulcinea, -whom he desired to aid him in this peril, covering himself with his -buckler, and setting his lance in rest, he charged at Rozinante's best -gallop, and attacked the first mill before him. Thrusting his lance -through the sail, the wind turned it with such violence that it broke -his weapon into shivers, carrying him and his horse after it, and -having whirled them round, finally tumbled the Knight a good way off, -and rolled him over the plain sorely damaged. - -Sancho Panza hastened to help him as fast as his Ass could go, and -when he came up he found the Knight unable to stir, such a shock had -Rozinante given him in the fall. - -'Bless me,' said Sancho, 'did I not tell you that you should look well -what you did, for they were none other than windmills, nor could any -think otherwise unless he had windmills in his brains?' - -'Peace, friend Sancho,' said Don Quixote, 'for the things of war are -constantly changing, and I think this must be the work of the same sage -Freston who robbed me of my library and books, and he hath changed -these Giants into windmills to take from me the glory of the victory. -But in the end his evil arts shall avail but little against the -goodness of my sword.' - -'May it prove so,' said Sancho, as he helped his Master to rise and -remount Rozinante, who, poor steed, was himself much bruised by the -fall. - -The next day they journeyed along towards the Pass of Lapice, a -romantic spot, at which they arrived about three o'clock in the -afternoon. - -'Here,' said Don Quixote to his Squire, 'we may hope to dip our hands -up to the elbows in what are called adventures. But take note of this, -that although thou seest me in the greatest dangers of the world, -thou art not to set hand to thy sword in my defence, unless those who -assault me be base or vulgar people. If they be Knights thou mayest not -help me.' - -'I do assure you, Sir,' said Sancho, 'that herein you shall be most -punctually obeyed, because I am by nature a quiet and peaceful man, and -have a strong dislike to thrusting myself into quarrels.' - -Whilst they spoke thus, two Friars of the order of St. Benedict, -mounted on large mules—big enough to be dromedaries—appeared coming -along the road. They wore travelling masks to keep the dust out of -their eyes and carried large sun umbrellas. After them came a coach -with four or five a-horseback travelling with it, and two lackeys ran -hard by it. In the coach was a Biscayan Lady who was going to Seville. -The Friars were not of her company, though all were going the same way. - -Scarcely had Don Quixote espied them than he exclaimed to his Squire: -'Either I much mistake, or this should be the most famous adventure -that hath ever been seen; for those dark forms that loom yonder are -doubtless Enchanters who are carrying off in that coach some Princess -they have stolen. Therefore I must with all my power undo this wrong.' - -'This will be worse than the adventure of the windmills,' said Sancho. -'Do you not see that they are Benedictine Friars, and the coach will -belong to some people travelling?' - -'I have told thee already, Sancho,' answered Don Quixote, 'that thou -art very ignorant in the matter of adventures. What I say is true, as -thou shalt see.' - -So saying he spurred on his horse, and posted himself in the middle -of the road along which the Friars were coming, and when they were -near enough to hear him he exclaimed in a loud voice: 'Monstrous and -horrible crew! Surrender this instant those exalted Princesses, whom -you are carrying away in that coach, or prepare to receive instant -death as a just punishment of your wicked deeds.' - -The Friars drew rein, and stood amazed at the figure and words of Don -Quixote, to whom they replied: 'Sir Knight, we are neither monstrous -nor wicked, but two religious men, Benedictines, travelling about our -business, and we know nothing about this coach or about any Princesses.' - -'No soft words for me,' cried Don Quixote, 'for I know you well, -treacherous knaves.' - -And without waiting for their reply he set spurs to Rozinante; and -laying his lance on his thigh, charged at the first Friar with such -fury and rage, that if he had not leaped from his mule he would have -been slain, or at least badly wounded. - -The second Friar, seeing the way his companion was treated, made no -words but fled across the country swifter than the wind itself. - -Sancho Panza, on seeing the Friar overthrown, dismounted very speedily -off his Ass and ran over to him, and would have stripped him of his -clothes. But two of the Friars' servants came up and asked him why he -was thus despoiling their master. Sancho replied that it was his due -by the law of arms, as lawful spoils gained in battle by his Lord and -Master, Don Quixote. - -The lackeys, who knew nothing of battles or spoils, seeing that Don -Quixote was now out of the way, speaking with those that were in the -coach, set both at once upon Sancho and threw him down, plucked every -hair out of his beard and kicked and mauled him without mercy, leaving -him at last stretched on the ground senseless and breathless. - -As for the Friar, he mounted again, trembling and terror-stricken, all -the colour having fled from his face, and spurring his mule, he joined -his companion, who was waiting for him hard by. - -While this was happening, Don Quixote was talking to the Lady in the -coach, to whom he said: 'Dear Lady, you may now dispose of yourself as -you best please. For the pride of your robbers is laid in the dust by -this my invincible arm. And that you may not pine to learn the name of -your deliverer, know that I am called Don Quixote of the Mancha, Knight -Errant, adventurer, and captive of the peerless and beauteous Lady -Dulcinea of Toboso. And in reward of the benefits you have received at -my hands, I demand nothing else but that you return to Toboso, there to -present yourself in my name before my Lady, and tell her what I have -done to obtain your liberty.' - -All this was listened to by a Biscayan Squire who accompanied the -coach. He hearing that the coach was not to pass on but was to return -to Toboso, went up to Don Quixote, and, laying hold of his lance, said -to him: 'Get away with thee, Sir Knight, for if thou leave not the -coach I will kill thee as sure as I am a Biscayan.' - -'If,' replied Don Quixote haughtily, 'thou wert a gentleman, as thou -art not, I would ere this have punished thy folly and insolence, -caitiff creature.' - -'I no gentleman?' cried the enraged Biscayan. 'Throw down thy lance and -draw thy sword, and thou shalt soon see that thou liest.' - -'That shall be seen presently,' replied Don Quixote; and flinging his -lance to the ground he drew his sword, grasped his buckler tight, and -rushed at the Biscayan. - -The Biscayan, seeing him come on in this manner, had nothing else to do -but to draw his sword. Luckily for him he was near the coach, whence he -snatched a cushion to serve him as a shield, and then they fell on one -another as if they had been mortal enemies. - -Those that were present tried to stop them, but the Biscayan shouted -out that if he were hindered from ending the battle he would put his -Lady and all who touched him to the sword. - -The Lady, amazed and terrified, made the coachman draw aside a little, -and sat watching the deadly combat from afar. - -The Biscayan, to begin with, dealt Don Quixote a mighty blow over the -target, which, if it had not been for his armour, would have cleft him -to the waist. Don Quixote, feeling the weight of this tremendous blow -which had destroyed his visor and carried away part of his ear, cried -out aloud: 'O Dulcinea, Lady of my soul, flower of all beauty, help thy -Knight, who finds himself in this great danger!' To say this, to raise -his sword, to cover himself with his buckler, and to rush upon the -Biscayan was the work of a moment. With his head full of rage he now -raised himself in his stirrups, and, gripping his sword more firmly in -his two hands, struck at the Biscayan with such violence that he caught -him a terrible blow on the cushion, knocking this shield against his -head with tremendous violence. It was as though a mountain had fallen -on the Biscayan and crushed him, and the blood spouted from his nose -and mouth and ears. He would have fallen straightway from his mule if -he had not clasped her round the neck; but he lost his stirrups, then -let go his arms, and the mule, frightened at the blow, began to gallop -across the fields, so that after two or three plunges it threw him to -the ground. - -Don Quixote leaped off his horse, ran towards him, and setting the -point of his sword between his eyes, bade him yield, or he would cut -off his head. - -The Lady of the coach now came forward in great grief and begged the -favour of her Squire's life. - -Don Quixote replied with great stateliness: 'Truly, fair Lady, I will -grant thy request, but it must be on one condition, that this Squire -shall go to Toboso and present himself in my name to the peerless Lady -Dulcinea, that she may deal with him as she thinks well.' - -The Lady, who was in great distress, without considering what Don -Quixote required, or asking who Dulcinea might be, promised that he -should certainly perform this command. - -'Then,' said Don Quixote, 'on the faith of that pledge I will do him no -more harm.' - -Seeing the contest was now over, and his Master about to remount -Rozinante, Sancho ran to hold his stirrups, and before he mounted, -taking him by his hand he kissed it and said: 'I desire that it will -please you, good my Lord Don Quixote, to bestow on me the government of -that Island which in this terrible battle you have won.' - -To which Don Quixote replied: 'Brother Sancho, these are not the -adventures of Islands, but of cross roads, wherein nothing is gained -but a broken pate or the loss of an ear. Have patience awhile, for the -adventures will come whereby I can make thee not only a Governor, but -something higher.' - -Sancho thanked him heartily, and kissed his hand again and the hem of -his mailed shirt. Then he helped him to get on Rozinante, and leaped -upon his Ass to follow him. - -And Don Quixote, without another word to the people of the coach, rode -away at a swift pace and turned into a wood that was hard by, leaving -Sancho to follow him as fast as his beast could trot. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - Of what passed between Don Quixote and the - Goatherds, and of the unfortunate Adventure - with the Yanguesian Carriers - - -As they rode along, Don Quixote turned to his Squire and said to him: -'Tell me now in very good earnest, didst thou ever see a more valorous -Knight than I am throughout the face of the earth? Didst thou ever -read in histories of any other that hath or ever had more courage in -fighting, more dexterity in wounding, or more skill in overthrowing?' - -'The truth is,' replied Sancho, 'that I have never read any history -whatever, for I can neither read nor write. But what I dare wager is, -that I never in my life served a bolder Master than you are, and I only -trust that all this boldness does not land us within the four walls of -the gaol.' - -'Peace, friend Sancho,' said Don Quixote; 'when didst thou read of a -Knight Errant that was brought before the Judge though he killed ever -so many people?' - -'I have read nothing, as you know, good Master; but a truce to all -this, let me attend to your wound, for you are losing a good deal of -blood in that ear, and I have got some lint and a little white ointment -in my wallet.' - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE AND THE GOATHERDS] - -'That,' said Don Quixote, 'would have been unnecessary if I had -remembered to make a bottleful of the Balsam of Fierabras, for with -only one drop of it both time and medicines are saved.' - -'What Balsam is that, then?' asked Sancho Panza. - -'It is a Balsam, the receipt of which I have in my memory, and whoever -possesses it need not fear death nor think to perish by any wound. -Therefore after I have made it and given it unto thee, thou hast -nothing else to do but when thou shalt see that in any battle I be -cloven in twain, than deftly to take up the portion of the body which -is fallen to the ground and put it up again on the half which remains -in the saddle, taking great care to fix it exactly in the right place. -Then thou shalt give me two draughts of the Balsam I have mentioned, -and I shall become as sound as an apple.' - -'If that be true,' said Sancho, 'I renounce from now the government -of the promised Island, and will demand nothing else in payment of my -services but only the receipt of this precious liquor. But tell me, is -it costly in making?' - -'With less than three _reals_,' said Don Quixote, 'a man may make three -gallons of it. But I mean to teach thee greater secrets than this, and -do thee greater favours also. And now let me dress my wound, for this -ear pains me more than I would wish.' - -Sancho took out of his wallet his lint and ointment to cure his -Master. But before he could use them Don Quixote saw that the visor of -his helmet was broken, and he had like to have lost his senses. Setting -his hand to his sword, he cried: 'I swear an oath to lead the life -which was led by the great Marquis of Mantua when he swore to revenge -the death of his nephew Baldwin, which was not to eat off a tablecloth, -nor to comb his hair, nor to change his clothes, nor to quit his -armour, and other things which, though I cannot now remember, I take -as said, until I have had complete revenge on him that hath done this -outrage.' - -'Look, your Worship, Sir Don Quixote,' said Sancho, when he heard these -strange words, 'you must note that if the Biscayan has done what you -told him, and presented himself before my Lady Dulcinea of Toboso, then -he has fully satisfied his debt, and deserves no other penalty unless -he commits a new fault.' - -'Thou hast spoken well and hit the mark truly,' answered Don Quixote; -'and, therefore, in respect of that, I set the oath aside. But I make -it and confirm it again, that I will lead the life I have said, until I -take by force another helmet as good as this from some other Knight.' - -'Such oaths are but mischief,' said Sancho discontentedly, 'for tell me -now, if by chance we do not come across a man armed with a helmet, what -are we to do? Do but consider that armed men travel not these roads, -but only carriers and waggoners, who not only wear no helmets, but -never heard them named all the days of their life.' - -'Thou art mistaken in this,' said Don Quixote, 'for we shall not have -been here two hours before we shall see more Knights than went up -against Albraca to win Angelica the Fair.' - -'So be it,' said Sancho, 'and may all turn out well for us, that the -time may come for the winning of that Island which is costing me so -dear.' - -'Have no fear for thine Island, Sancho Panza,' said Don Quixote; 'and -now look if thou hast aught to eat in thy wallet, for soon we should -go in search of some Castle where we may lodge the night and make the -Balsam of which I have spoken, for in truth this ear of mine pains me -greatly.' - -'I have got here an onion and a bit of cheese and a few crusts of -bread, but such coarse food is not fit for so valiant a Knight as your -Worship.' - -'How little dost thou understand the matter,' replied Don Quixote, 'for -it is an honour to Knights Errant not to eat more than once a month, -and if by chance they should eat, to eat only of that which is next at -hand! And all this thou mightest have known hadst thou read as many -books as I have done. For though I studied many, yet did I never find -that Knights Errant did ever eat but by mere chance, or at some costly -banquets that were made for them. And the remainder of their days -they lived on herbs and roots. Therefore, friend Sancho, let not that -trouble thee which is my pleasure, for to a Knight Errant that which -comes is good.' - -'Pardon me, Sir,' said Sancho, 'for since I can neither read nor write, -as I have already told you, I have not fallen in rightly with the laws -of Knighthood. But from henceforth my wallet shall be furnished with -all sorts of dried fruits for your Worship, because you are a Knight, -and for myself, seeing I am none, I will provide fowls and other -things, which are better eating.' - -So saying he pulled out what he had, and the two fell to dinner in good -peace and company. - -But being desirous to look out for a lodging for that night, they cut -short their meagre and sorry meal, mounted at once a-horseback, and -made haste to find out some dwellings before night did fall. - -But the sun and their hopes did fail them at the same time, they being -then near the cabins of some Goatherds. Therefore they determined to -pass the night there. And though Sancho's grief was great to lie out of -a village, yet Don Quixote was more joyful than ever, for he thought -that as often as he slept under the open heaven, so often did he -perform an act worthy of a true Knight Errant. - -They were welcomed by the Goatherds very cordially, and Sancho, -having put up Rozinante and his Ass the best way he could, made his -way towards the smell given out by certain pieces of goat's flesh -which were boiling in a pot on the fire. And though he longed that -very instant to see if they were ready, he did not do so, for he saw -the Goatherds were themselves taking them off the fire and spreading -some sheep-skins on the ground, and were laying their rustic table -as quickly as might be. Then with many expressions of good will they -invited the two to share in what they had. Those who belonged to the -fold, being six in number, sat round on the skins, having first with -rough compliments asked Don Quixote to seat himself upon a trough which -they placed for him turned upside down. - -Don Quixote sat down, but Sancho remained on foot to serve him with -the cup which was made of horn. Seeing him standing, his Master said: -'That thou mayest see, Sancho, the good which is in Knight Errantry, -and how fair a chance they have who exercise it to arrive at honour and -position in the world, I desire that here by my side, and in company of -these good people, thou dost seat thyself, and be one and the same with -me that am thy Master and natural Lord. That thou dost eat in my dish -and drink in the same cup wherein I drink. For the same may be said of -Knight Errantry as is said of Love, that it makes all things equal.' - -'Thanks for your favour,' replied Sancho, 'but I may tell your Worship -that provided I have plenty to eat, I can eat it as well, and better, -standing and by myself, than if I were seated on a level with an -Emperor. And, indeed, if I speak the truth, what I eat in my corner -without ceremony, though it be but a bread and onion, smacks much -better than turkeycocks at other tables, where I must chaw my meat -leisurely, drink but little, wipe my hands often, nor do other things -that solitude and liberty allow.' - -'For all that,' said Don Quixote, 'here shalt thou sit, for the humble -shall be exalted,' and taking him by the arm, he forced his Squire to -sit down near himself. - -The Goatherds did not understand the gibberish of Squires and Knights -Errant, and did nothing but eat, hold their peace, and stare at their -guests, who with great relish were gorging themselves with pieces as -big as their fists. The course of flesh being over, the Goatherds -spread on the skins a great number of parched acorns and half a cheese, -harder than if it had been made of mortar. The horn in the meantime -was not idle, but came full from the wine-skins and returned empty, as -though it had been a bucket sent to the well. - -After Don Quixote had satisfied his appetite, he took up a fistful of -acorns, and beholding them earnestly, began in this manner: 'Happy time -and fortunate ages were those which our ancestors called Golden, not -because Gold—so much prized in this our Iron Age—was gotten in that -happy time without any labours, but because those who lived in that -time knew not these two words, _Thine_ and _Mine_. In that holy age all -things were in common. No man needed to do aught but lift up his hand -and take his food from the strong oak, which did liberally invite them -to gather his sweet and savoury fruit. The clear fountains and running -rivers did offer them transparent water in magnificent abundance, -and in the hollow trees did careful bees erect their commonwealth, -offering to every hand without interest the fertile crop of their -sweet labours.' Thus did the eloquent Knight describe the Golden Age, -when all was peace, friendship, and concord, and then he showed the -astonished Goatherds how an evil world had taken its place, and made -it necessary for Knights Errant like himself to come forward for -the protection of widows and orphans, and the defence of distressed -damsels. All this he did because the acorns that were given him called -to his mind the Golden Age. The Goatherds sat and listened with grave -attention, and Sancho made frequent visits to the second wine-skin -during his discourse. At length it was ended, and they sat round -the fire, drinking their wine and listening to one of the Goatherds -singing, and towards night, Don Quixote's ear becoming very painful, -one of his hosts made a dressing of rosemary leaves and salt, and bound -up his wound. By this means being eased of his pain, he was able to lie -down in one of the huts and sleep soundly after his day's adventures. - -Don Quixote spent several days among the Goatherds, and at length, when -his wound was better, he thanked them for their hospitality, and rode -away in search of new adventures, followed by the faithful Sancho. - -They came to a halt in a pleasant meadow rich with beautiful grass, by -the side of a delightful and refreshing stream, which seemed to invite -them to stop and spend there the sultry hours of noon, which were -already becoming oppressive. - -Don Quixote and Sancho dismounted, and leaving Rozinante and Dapple -loose, to feed on the grass that was there in plenty, they ransacked -the wallet, and without any ceremony fell to eating what they found in -it. - -Sancho had neglected to tie up Rozinante, and, as luck would have it, -a troop of Galician ponies belonging to some Yanguesian carriers, whose -custom it is to rest at noon with their teams in spots and places where -grass and water abound, were feeding in the same valley. - -It must be believed that Rozinante supposed that the grass the ponies -were feeding on was better than his own; but be that as it may, he -started off at a little swift trot to feed among them. They resented -his appearance, and, as he sought to enter their ranks and feed among -them, they received him with their heels and teeth, with such vigour -that in a trice he had burst his girth, and his saddle was stripped -from his back. But the worst of all was that the carriers, taking part -with their own ponies, ran up with stakes and so belaboured him that -they brought him to the ground in a sore plight. - -Upon this Don Quixote and Sancho, who witnessed the basting of -Rozinante, came running up all out of breath, and Don Quixote said -to Sancho: 'From what I see, friend Sancho, these be no Knights, but -base, rascally fellows of low breeding. I say this, that thou mayest -freely aid me in taking vengeance for the wrong which they have done to -Rozinante before our eyes.' - -'What vengeance can we take,' replied Sancho, 'when there are more than -twenty, and we are but two—nay, perhaps but one and a half?' - -'I count for a hundred,' said Don Quixote, and without further parley -he drew his sword and flew upon the Yanguesians, boldly followed by -Sancho Panza. With his first blow Don Quixote pierced a buff coat that -one of them wore, wounding him grievously in the shoulder. Then the -Yanguesians, finding themselves so rudely handled by two men only, they -being so many, betook themselves to their stakes, and hemming in their -adversaries in the midst of them, they laid on with great fury. In fact -the second thwack brought Sancho to the ground, and the same fate soon -befell Don Quixote, whose dexterity and courage availed him nothing, -for he fell at the feet of his unfortunate steed, who had not yet been -able to arise. - -Then seeing the mischief they had done, the Yanguesians loaded their -team with as much haste as possible, and went their way, leaving the -adventurers in a doleful plight and a worse humour. - - - - - [Illustration: THE MANNER OF DON QUIXOTE'S TRAVEL TO THE INN] - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - How Don Quixote arrived at an Inn which he - imagined to be a Castle, and there cured himself - and Sancho with the Balsam of Fierabras - - -For some time after the Yanguesian Carriers had gone on their way Don -Quixote and Sancho Panza lay on the ground groaning and saying nothing. - -The first that came to himself was Sancho Panza, who cried in a weak -and pitiful voice: 'Sir Don Quixote! O Sir Don Quixote!' - -'What wouldst thou, brother Sancho?' answered Don Quixote in the same -faint and grievous tone as Sancho. - -'I would, if it were possible,' said Sancho Panza, 'that your Worship -should give me a couple of mouthfuls of that Balsam of Fierabras, if -so be that your Worship has it at hand. Perhaps it will be as good for -broken bones as for wounds.' - -'If I had it here,' sighed Don Quixote, 'we should lack nothing. But -I swear to thee, Sancho Panza, on the faith of a Knight Errant, that -before two days pass, unless fortune forbids, I will have it in my -possession.' - -'I pray you,' asked Sancho, 'in how many days do you think we shall be -able to move our feet?' - -'I cannot say,' said the battered Knight; 'but I take on myself the -blame of all, for I should not have drawn my sword against men that are -not Knights. Therefore, brother Sancho, take heed of what I tell thee, -for it mightily concerns the welfare of us both; and it is this, that -when thou seest such rabble offer us any wrong, wait not for me to draw -sword upon them, for I will not do it in any wise, but put thou thy -hand to thy sword and chastise them at thy pleasure.' - -But Sancho Panza did not much relish his Master's advice, and replied: -'Sir, I am a peaceable, sober, and quiet man, and can let pass any -injury whatever, for I have a wife and children to take care of. -Therefore, let me also say a word to your Worship, that by no manner of -means shall I put hand to sword either against Clown or against Knight. -And from this time forth I forgive whatever insults are paid to me, -whether they are or shall be paid by persons high or low, rich or poor, -gentle or simple.' - -On hearing this his Master said: 'Would that I had breath enough to be -able to speak easily, and that the pain I feel in this rib were less, -that I might make thee understand, Sancho, the mistake thou art making! -How can I appoint thee Governor of an Island when thou wouldst make an -end of all by having neither valour nor will to defend thy lands or -revenge thine injuries?' - -'Alas!' groaned Sancho, 'I would that I had the courage and -understanding of which your Worship speaks, but in truth at this moment -I am more fit for plasters than preachments. See if your Worship can -rise, and we will help Rozinante, although he deserves it not, for he -was the chief cause of all this mauling.' - -'Fortune always leaves one door open in disasters, and your Dapple will -now be able to supply the want of Rozinante and carry me hence to some -Castle where I may be healed of my wounds. Nor shall I esteem such -riding a dishonour, for I remember to have read that old Silenus, tutor -and guide of the merry God of Laughter, when he entered the City of a -hundred gates, rode very pleasantly, mounted on a handsome ass.' - -'That may be,' replied Sancho, 'but there is a difference between -riding a-horseback and being laid athwart like a sack of rubbish.' - -'Have done with your replies,' exclaimed Don Quixote, 'and rise as well -as thou art able and sit me on top of thine Ass, and let us depart -hence before the night comes and overtakes us in this wilderness.' - -Then Sancho, with thirty groans and sixty sighs and a hundred and -twenty curses, lifted up Rozinante—who if he had had a tongue would -have complained louder than Sancho himself—and after much trouble set -Don Quixote on the Ass. Then tying Rozinante to his tail, he led the -Ass by the halter, and proceeded as best he could to where the highroad -seemed to lie. - -And Fortune, which had guided their affairs from good to better, led -him on to a road on which he spied an Inn, which to his annoyance and -Don Quixote's joy must needs be a Castle. Sancho protested that it was -an Inn, and his Master that it was a Castle; and their dispute lasted -so long that they had time to arrive there before it was finished; and -into this Inn or Castle Sancho entered without more parley with all his -team. - -The Innkeeper, seeing Don Quixote laid athwart of the Ass, asked -Sancho what ailed him. Sancho answered that it was nothing, only that -he had fallen down from a rock, and had bruised his ribs somewhat. -The Innkeeper's wife was by nature charitable, and she felt for the -sufferings of others, so she hastened at once to attend to Don Quixote, -and made her daughter, a comely young maiden, help her in taking care -of her guest. There was also serving in the Inn an Asturian wench, -broad-cheeked, flat-pated, with a snub nose, blind of one eye and the -other not very sound. This young woman, who was called Maritornes, -assisted the daughter, and the two made up a bed for Don Quixote in -a garret which had served for many years as a straw-loft. The bed on -which they placed him was made of four roughly planed boards on two -unequal trestles; a mattress which, in thinness, might have been a -quilt, so full of pellets that if they had not through the holes shown -themselves to be wool, they would to the touch seem to be pebbles. -There was a pair of sheets made of target leather; and as for the -coverlet, if any one had chosen to count the threads of it he could not -have missed one in the reckoning. - -On this miserable bed did Don Quixote lie, and presently the Hostess -and her daughter plastered him over from head to foot, Maritornes -holding the candle for them. - -While she was plastering him, the Hostess, seeing that he was in places -black and blue, said that it looked more like blows than a fall. -Sancho, however, declared they were not blows, but that the rock had -many sharp points, and each one had left a mark; and he added: - -'Pray, good Mistress, spare some of that tow, as my back pains are not -a little.' - -'In that case,' said the Hostess, 'you must have fallen too.' - -'I did not fall,' said Sancho Panza, 'but with the sudden fright I -took on seeing my Master fall, my body aches as if they had given me a -thousand blows, and I now find myself with only a few bruises less than -my Master, Don Quixote.' - -'What is this gentleman's name?' asked Maritornes. - -'Don Quixote of the Mancha,' answered Sancho Panza; 'and he is a Knight -Errant, and one of the best and strongest that have been seen in the -world these many ages.' - -'What is a Knight Errant?' asked the wench. - -'Art thou so young in the world that thou knowest it not?' answered -Sancho Panza. 'Know then, Sister mine, that a Knight Errant is a thing -which in two words is found cudgelled and an Emperor. To-day he is the -most miserable creature in the world, and the most needy; to-morrow he -will have two or three crowns of Kingdoms to give to his Squire.' - -'How is it, then,' said the Hostess, 'that thou hast not gotten at -least an Earldom, seeing thou art Squire to this good Knight?' - -'It is early yet,' replied Sancho, 'for it is but a month since we set -out on our adventures. But believe me, if my Master, Don Quixote, gets -well of his wounds—or his fall, I should say—I would not sell my -hopes for the best title in Spain.' - -To all this Don Quixote listened very attentively, and sitting up in -his bed as well as he could, he took the Hostess's hand and said: -'Believe me, beautiful Lady, that you may count yourself fortunate in -having entertained me in this your Castle. My Squire will inform you -who I am, for self-praise is no recommendation; only this I say, that I -will keep eternally written in memory the service you have done to me, -and I will be grateful to you as long as my life shall endure.' - -The Hostess, her daughter, and the good Maritornes remained confounded -on hearing the words of the Knight Errant, which they understood as -well as if he had spoken in Greek, but yet they believed they were -words of compliment, and so they thanked him for his courtesy and -departed, leaving Sancho and his Master for the night. - -There happened to be lodging in the Inn that night one of the Officers -of the Holy Brotherhood of Toledo, whose duty it was to travel the -roads and inquire into cases of highway robbery. He hearing some time -later that a man was lying in the house sorely wounded must needs go -and make an examination of the matter. He therefore lighted his lamp -and made his way to Don Quixote's garret. - -As soon as Sancho Panza saw him enter arrayed in a shirt and a nightcap -with the lamp in his hand, which showed him to be a very ugly man, he -asked his Master: 'Will this by chance be some Wizard Moor come to -torment us?' - -'A Wizard it cannot be,' said Don Quixote, 'for those under enchantment -never let themselves be seen.' - -The Officer could make nothing of their talk, and came up to Don -Quixote, who lay face upwards encased in his plasters. 'Well,' said the -Officer roughly, 'how goes it, my good fellow?' - -'I would speak more politely if I were you,' answered Don Quixote. 'Is -it the custom in this country, lout, to speak in that way to a Knight -Errant?' - -The Officer, finding himself thus rudely addressed, could not endure -it, and, lifting up the lamp, oil and all, gave Don Quixote such a blow -on the pate with it that he broke his head in one or two places, and, -leaving all in darkness, left the room. - -'Ah!' groaned Sancho, 'this is indeed the Wizard Moor, and he must be -keeping his treasures for others, and for us nothing but blows.' - -'It is ever so,' replied Don Quixote; 'and we must take no notice -of these things of enchantment, nor must we be angry or vexed with -them, for since they are invisible, there is no one on whom to take -vengeance. Rise, Sancho, if thou canst, and call the Constable of this -fortress, and try to get him to give me a little wine, oil, salt, and -rosemary to prepare the health-giving Balsam, of which I have grievous -need, for there comes much blood from the wound which the phantom hath -given me.' - -Sancho arose, not without aching bones, and crept in the dark to where -the Innkeeper was, and said to him: - -'My Lord Constable, do us the favour and courtesy to give me a little -rosemary, oil, wine, and salt to cure one of the best Knights Errant -in the world, who lies yonder in bed sorely wounded at the hands of a -Moorish Enchanter.' - -When the Innkeeper heard this he took Sancho Panza for a man out of -his wits, but nevertheless gave him what he wanted, and Sancho carried -it to Don Quixote. His Master was lying with his hands to his head, -groaning with pain from the blows of the lamp, which, however, had -only raised two big lumps; what he thought was blood being only the -perspiration running down his face. - -He now took the things Sancho had brought, of which he made a compound, -mixing them together and boiling them a good while until they came to -perfection. - -Then he asked for a phial into which to pour this precious liquor, but -as there was not one to be had in the Inn, he decided to pour it into a -tin oil-vessel which the Innkeeper had given him. - -This being done, he at once made an experiment on himself of the virtue -of this precious Balsam, as he imagined it to be, and drank off a whole -quart of what was left in the boiling-pot. - -The only result of this was that it made him very sick indeed, as -well it might, and, what with the sickness and the bruising and the -weariness of body, he fell fast asleep for several hours, and at the -end of his sleep awoke so refreshed and so much the better of his -bruises that he took himself to be cured, and verily believed he had -hit upon the Balsam of Fierabras. - -Sancho Panza, to whom his Master's recovery seemed little short of a -miracle, begged that he might have what was left in the boiling-pot, -which was no small quantity. Don Quixote consenting, he took the pot in -both hands, and tossed it down, swallowing very little less than his -Master had done. - -It happened, however, that Sancho's stomach was not so delicate as his -Master's, and he suffered such terrible pains and misery before he was -sick that he thought his last hour was come, and cursed the Balsam and -the thief who had given it to him. - -Don Quixote, seeing him in this bad way, said: 'I believe, Sancho, that -all this evil befalleth thee because thou art not dubbed Knight, for I -am persuaded that this Balsam may not benefit any one that is not.' - -'If your Worship knew that,' replied poor Sancho, 'bad luck to me and -mine, why did you let me taste it?' - -Before Don Quixote could reply to this, Sancho became so terribly sick -that he could only lie groaning and moaning for two hours, at the end -of which he felt so shaken and shattered that he could scarcely stand, -and sadly wished that he had never become Squire to a Knight Errant. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - How Sancho paid the Reckoning at the Inn which - Don Quixote supposed was a Castle - - -Now whilst Sancho Panza lay groaning in his bed, Don Quixote, who, as -we have said, felt somewhat eased and cured, made up his mind to set -off in search of new adventures. And full of this desire he himself -saddled Rozinante and put the pack-saddle on his Squire's beast, and -helped Sancho to dress and to mount his Ass. Then getting a-horseback -he rode over to the corner of the Inn and seized hold of a pike which -stood there, to make it serve him instead of a lance. - -All the people that were staying at the Inn, some twenty in number, -stood staring at him, and among these was the Innkeeper's daughter. Don -Quixote kept turning his eyes towards her and sighing dolefully, which -every one, or at least all who had seen him the night before, thought -must be caused by the pain he was in from his bruises. - - [Illustration: HOW SANCHO PAID THE RECKONING] - -When they were both mounted and standing by the Inn gate, he called -to the Innkeeper and said in a grave voice: 'Many and great are the -favours, Sir Constable, which I have received in this your Castle, and -I shall remain deeply grateful for them all the days of my life. If -I am able to repay you by avenging you on some proud miscreant that -hath done you any wrong, know that it is my office to help the weak, -to revenge the wronged, and to punish traitors. Ransack your memory, -and if you find anything of this sort for me to do, you have but to -utter it, and I promise you, by the Order of Knighthood which I have -received, to procure you satisfaction to your heart's content.' - -'Sir Knight,' replied the Innkeeper with equal gravity, 'I have no need -that your Worship should avenge me any wrong, for I know how to take -what revenge I think good when an injury is done. All I want is that -your Worship should pay me the score you have run up this night in mine -Inn, both for the straw and barley of your two beasts, and your suppers -and your beds.' - -'This then is an Inn?' exclaimed Don Quixote. - -'Ay, that it is, and a very respectable one, too,' replied the -Innkeeper. - -'All this time then I have been deceived,' said Don Quixote, 'for -in truth I thought it was a Castle and no mean one. But since it is -indeed an Inn and no Castle, all that can be done now is to ask you to -forgive me any payment, for I cannot break the laws of Knights Errant, -of whom I know for certain that they never paid for lodging or aught -else in the Inns where they stayed. For the good entertainment that -is given them is their due reward for the sufferings they endure, -seeking adventures both day and night, winter and summer, a-foot and -a-horseback, in thirst and hunger, in heat and cold, being exposed to -all the storms of heaven and the hardships of earth.' - -'All that is no business of mine,' retorted the Innkeeper. 'Pay me what -you owe me, and keep your tales of Knights Errant for those who want -them. My business is to earn my living.' - -'You are a fool and a saucy fellow,' said Don Quixote angrily, and, -spurring Rozinante and brandishing his lance, he swept out of the Inn -yard before any one could stop him, and rode on a good distance without -waiting to see if his Squire was following. - -The Innkeeper, when he saw him go without paying, ran up to get his -due from Sancho Panza, who also refused to pay, and said to him: 'Sir, -seeing I am Squire to a Knight Errant, the same rule and reason for not -paying at inns and taverns hold as good for me as for my Master.' - -The Innkeeper grew angry at these words, and threatened that if he did -not pay speedily he would get it from him in a way he would not like. - -Sancho replied that by the Order of Knighthood which his Lord and -Master had received, he would not pay a penny though it cost him his -life. - -But his bad fortune so managed it, that there happened to be at the -Inn at this time four wool-combers of Segovia, and three needlemakers -of Cordova, and two neighbours from Seville, all merry fellows, very -mischievous and playsome. And as if they were all moved with one idea, -they came up to Sancho, and pulling him down off his Ass, one of them -ran in for the Innkeeper's blanket, and they flung him into it. But -looking up and seeing that the ceiling was somewhat lower than they -needed for their business, they determined to go out into the yard, -which had no roof but the sky, and there placing Sancho in the middle -of the blanket, they began to toss him aloft and to make sport with him -by throwing him up and down. The outcries of the miserable be-tossed -Squire were so many and so loud that they reached the ears of his -Master, who, standing awhile to listen what it was, believed that some -new adventure was at hand, until he clearly recognised the shrieks to -come from poor Sancho. Immediately turning his horse, he rode back at a -gallop to the Inn gate, and finding it closed, rode round the wall to -see if he could find any place at which he might enter. But he scarcely -got to the wall of the Inn yard, which was not very high, when he -beheld the wicked sport they were making with his Squire. He saw him go -up and down with such grace and agility, that, had his anger allowed -him, I make no doubt he would have burst with laughter. He tried to -climb the wall from his horse, but he was so bruised and broken that he -could by no means alight from his saddle, and therefore from on top of -his horse he used such terrible threats against those that were tossing -Sancho that one could not set them down in writing. - -But in spite of his reproaches they did not cease from their laughter -or labour, nor did the flying Sancho stop his lamentations, mingled now -with threats and now with prayers. Thus they carried on their merry -game, until at last from sheer weariness they stopped and let him be. -And then they brought him his Ass, and, helping him to mount it, -wrapped him in his coat, and the kind-hearted Maritornes, seeing him -so exhausted, gave him a pitcher of water, which, that it might be the -cooler, she fetched from the well. - -Just as he was going to drink he heard his Master's voice calling to -him, saying: 'Son Sancho, drink not water, drink it not, my son, for -it will kill thee. Behold, here I have that most holy Balsam,'—and he -showed him the can of liquor,—'two drops of which if thou drinkest -thou wilt undoubtedly be cured.' - -At these words Sancho shuddered, and replied to his Master: 'You forget -surely that I am no Knight, or else you do not remember the pains I -suffered last evening. Keep your liquor to yourself, and let me be in -peace.' - -At the conclusion of this speech he began to drink, but finding it was -only water he would not taste it, and called for wine, which Maritornes -very kindly fetched for him, and likewise paid for it out of her own -purse. - -As soon as Sancho had finished drinking, he stuck his heels into his -Ass, and the Inn gate being thrown wide open he rode out, highly -pleased at having paid for nothing, even at the price of a tossing. The -Innkeeper, however, had kept his wallet, but Sancho was so distracted -when he departed that he never missed it. - -When Sancho reached his Master, he was almost too jaded and faint to -ride his beast. Don Quixote, seeing him in this plight, said to him: -'Now I am certain that yon Castle or Inn is without doubt enchanted, -for those who made sport with thee so cruelly, what else could they be -but phantoms, and beings of another world? And I am the more sure of -this, because when I was by the wall of the Inn yard I was not able to -mount it, or to alight from Rozinante, and therefore I must have been -enchanted. For if I could have moved, I would have avenged thee in a -way to make those scoundrels remember the jest for ever, even although -to do it I should have had to disobey the rules of Knighthood.' - -'So would I also have avenged myself,' said Sancho, 'Knight or no -Knight, but I could not. And yet I believe that those who amused -themselves with me were no phantoms or enchanted beings, but men of -flesh and bones as we are, for one was called Pedro, and another -Tenorio, and the Innkeeper called a third Juan. But what I make out of -all this, is that those adventures which we go in search of, will bring -us at last so many misadventures that we shall not know our right foot -from our left. And the best thing for us to do, in my humble opinion, -is to return us again to our village and look after our own affairs, -and not go jumping, as the saying is, "out of the frying-pan into the -fire."' - -'How little dost thou know of Knighthood, friend Sancho,' replied Don -Quixote. 'Peace, and have patience, for a day will come when thou shalt -see with thine own eyes how fine a thing it is to follow this calling. -What pleasure can equal that of winning a battle or triumphing over an -enemy?' - -'I cannot tell,' answered Sancho; 'but this I know, that since we are -Knights Errant, we have never won any battle, unless it was that with -the Biscayan, and even then your Worship lost half an ear. And ever -after that time it has been nothing but cudgels and more cudgels, -blows and more blows,—I getting the tossing in the blanket to boot. -And all this happens to me from enchanted people on whom I cannot take -vengeance.' - -'That grieves me,' replied Don Quixote; 'but who knows what may happen? -Fortune may bring me a sword like that of Amadis, which did not only -cut like a razor, but there was no armour however strong or enchanted -which could stand before it.' - -'It will be like my luck,' said Sancho, 'that when your Worship finds -such a sword it will, like the Balsam, be of use only to those who are -Knights, whilst poor Squires will still have to sup sorrow.' - -'Fear not that, Sancho,' replied his Master; and he rode ahead, his -mind full of adventures, followed at a little distance by his unhappy -Squire. - - - - - [Illustration: OF THE ADVENTURE OF THE TWO ARMIES] - - - - - CHAPTER X - - Of the Adventure of the Two Armies - - -Whilst they were riding on their way, Don Quixote saw a large, dense -cloud of dust rolling towards them, and turning to Sancho said: 'This -is the day on which shall be shown the might of my arm and on which -I am to do deeds which shall be written in the books of fame. Dost -thou see the dust which arises there? Know then that it is caused by -a mighty army composed of various and numberless nations that are -marching this way.' - -'If that be so,' replied Sancho, 'then must there be two armies, for on -this other side there is as great a dust.' - -Don Quixote turned round to behold it, and seeing that it was so, he -was marvellous glad, for he imagined that there were indeed two armies -coming to fight each other in the midst of that spacious plain. For at -every hour and moment his fancy was full of battles, enchantments, and -adventures, such as are related in the books of Knighthood, and all his -thoughts and wishes were turned towards such things. - -As for the clouds he had seen, they were raised by two large flocks of -sheep which were being driven along the same road from two opposite -sides, and this by reason of the dust could not be seen until they came -near. - -Don Quixote was so much in earnest when he called them armies that -Sancho at once believed it, asking: 'What then shall we do, good -Master?' - -'What!' cried Don Quixote. 'Why, favour and help those who are in -distress and need. Thou must know, Sancho, that this which comes on -our front is led by the mighty Emperor Alifamfaron, Lord of the great -Island of Trapobana. This other which is marching at our back is the -army of his foe, the King of the Garamantes, Pentapolin of the Naked -Arm, for he always goes into battle with his right arm bare.' - -'But why do these two Princes hate each other so much?' asked Sancho. - -'They are enemies,' replied Don Quixote, 'because Alifamfaron is a -furious pagan and is deeply in love with Pentapolin's daughter, who is -a beautiful and gracious Princess and a Christian. Her father refuses -to give her to the pagan King until he abandons Mahomet's false -religion and becomes a convert to his own.' - -'By my beard,' said Sancho, 'Pentapolin does right well, and I will -help him all I can.' - -'Then thou wilt but do thy duty,' said Don Quixote, 'for it is not -necessary to be a dubbed Knight to engage in battles such as these.' - -'Right!' replied Sancho, 'but where shall we stow this Ass that we may -be sure of finding him after the fight is over, for I think it is not -the custom to enter into battle mounted on such a beast.' - -'That is true,' said Don Quixote; 'but thou mayest safely leave it to -chance whether he be lost or found, for after this battle we shall have -so many horses that even Rozinante runs a risk of being changed for -another. And now let us withdraw to that hillock yonder that we may get -a better view of both those great armies.' - -They did so, and standing on the top of a hill gazed at the two great -clouds of dust which the imagination of Don Quixote had turned into -armies. And then Don Quixote, with all the eloquence he could muster, -described to Sancho the names of the different Knights in the two -armies, with their colours and devices and mottoes, and the numbers of -their squadrons, and the countries and provinces from which they came. - -But though Sancho stood and listened in wonder he could see nothing -as yet of Knights or armies, and at last he cried out: 'Where are all -these grand Knights, good my Master? For myself, I can see none of -them. But perhaps it is all enchantment, as so many things have been.' - -'How! Sayest thou so?' said Don Quixote. 'Dost thou not hear the horses -neigh and the trumpets sound and the noise of the drums?' - -'I hear nothing else,' said Sancho, 'but the great bleating of sheep.' - -And so it was, indeed, for by this time the two flocks were approaching -very near to them. - -'The fear thou art in,' said Don Quixote, 'permits thee neither to -see nor hear aright, for one of the effects of fear is to disturb the -senses and make things seem different from what they are. If thou art -afraid, stand to one side and leave me to myself, for I alone can give -the victory to the side which I assist.' - -So saying he clapped spurs to Rozinante, and, setting his lance in -rest, rode down the hillside like a thunderbolt. - -Sancho shouted after him as loud as he could: 'Return, good Sir Don -Quixote! Return! For verily all those you go to charge are but sheep -and muttons. Return, I say! Alas that ever I was born! What madness -is this? Look, there are neither Knights, nor arms, nor shields, nor -soldiers, nor Emperors, but only sheep. What is it you do, wretch that -I am?' - -For all this Don Quixote did not turn back, but rode on, shouting in a -loud voice: 'So ho! Knights! Ye that serve and fight under the banner -of Pentapolin of the Naked Arm, follow me, all of you. Ye shall see how -easily I will revenge him on his enemy Alifamfaron of Trapobana!' - -With these words he dashed into the midst of the flock of sheep, -and began to spear them with as much courage and fury as if he were -fighting his mortal enemies. - -The Shepherds that came with the flock cried to him to leave off, but -seeing their words had no effect, they unloosed their slings and began -to salute his pate with stones as big as one's fist. - -But Don Quixote made no account of their stones, and galloping to and -fro everywhere cried out: 'Where art thou, proud Alifamfaron? Where art -thou? Come to me, for I am but one Knight alone, who desires to prove -my strength with thee, man to man, and make thee yield thy life for the -wrong thou hast done to the valorous Pentapolin.' - -At that instant a stone gave him such a blow that it buried two of his -ribs in his body. Finding himself so ill-treated he thought for certain -that he was killed or sorely wounded, and recollecting his Balsam, he -drew out his oil pot and set it to his mouth to drink. But before he -could take as much as he wanted, another stone struck him full on the -hand, broke the oil pot into pieces, and carried away with it three -or four teeth and grinders out of his mouth, and sorely crushed two -fingers of his hand. So badly was he wounded by these two blows that he -now fell off his horse on to the ground. - -The Shepherds ran up, and believing that they had killed him, they -collected their flocks in great haste, and carrying away their dead -muttons, of which there were seven, they went away without caring to -inquire into things any further. - -Sancho was all this time standing on the hill looking at the mad pranks -his Master was performing, and tearing his beard and cursing the hour -when they had first met. Seeing, however, that he was fallen on the -ground, and the Shepherds had gone away, he came down the hill and went -up to his Master, and found him in a very bad way, although not quite -insensible. - -'Did I not tell you, Sir Don Quixote,' said Sancho mournfully, 'did I -not tell you to come back, for those you went to attack were not armies -but sheep?' - -'That thief of an Enchanter, my enemy, can alter things and make men -vanish away as he pleases. Know, Sancho, that it is very easy for those -kind of men to make us seem what they please, and this malicious being -who persecutes me, envious of the glory that I was to reap from this -battle, hath changed the Squadrons of the foe into flocks of sheep. -If thou dost not believe me, Sancho, get on thine Ass and follow them -fair and softly, and thou shalt see that when they have gone a little -way off they will return to their original shapes, and, ceasing to be -sheep, become men as right and straight as I painted them to you at -first.' - -At this moment the Balsam that Don Quixote had swallowed began to make -him very sick, and Sancho Panza ran off to search in his wallet for -something that might cure him. But when he found that his wallet was -not upon his Ass, and remembered for the first time that it was left -at the Inn, he was on the point of losing his wits. He cursed himself -anew, and resolved in his heart to leave his Master and return to his -house, even though he should lose his wages and the government of the -promised Island. - -Don Quixote had now risen, and with his left hand to his mouth that the -rest of his teeth might not fall out, with the other he took Rozinante -by the bridle, and went up to where his Squire stood leaning against -his Ass with his head in his hand, looking the picture of misery. - -Don Quixote, seeing him look so miserable, said to him: 'Learn, Sancho, -not to be so easily downcast, for these storms that befall us are signs -that the weather will soon be fair. Therefore thou shouldst not vex -thyself about my misfortunes, for sure thou dost not share in them.' - -'How not?' replied Sancho; 'mayhap he they tossed in a blanket -yesterday was not my father's son? And the wallet which is missing -to-day with all my chattels, is not that my misfortune?' - -'What, is the wallet missing, Sancho?' said Don Quixote. - -'Yes, it is missing,' answered Sancho. - -'In that case we have nothing to eat to-day,' said Don Quixote. - -'It would be so,' said Sancho, 'should the herbs of the field fail us, -which your Worship says you know of, and with which you have told me -Knights Errant must supply their wants.' - -'Nevertheless,' answered Don Quixote, 'I would rather just now have a -hunch of bread, or a cottage loaf and a couple of pilchards' heads, -than all the herbs that Dioscorides has described. But before thou -mountest thine Ass, lend me here thy hand and see how many teeth and -grinders are lacking on this right side of my upper jaw, for there I -feel the pain.' - -Sancho put his fingers in, and, feeling about, asked: 'How many -grinders did your Worship have before, on this side?' - -'Four,' replied Don Quixote, 'besides the wisdom tooth, all whole and -sound.' - -'Mind well what you say, Sir,' answered Sancho. - -'Four, say I, if not five,' said Don Quixote, 'for in all my life I -never had tooth or grinder drawn from my mouth, nor has any fallen out -or been destroyed by decay.' - -'Well, then, in this lower part,' said Sancho, 'your Worship has but -two grinders and a half, and in the upper, neither a half nor any, for -all is as smooth as the palm of my hand.' - -'Unfortunate I!' exclaimed Don Quixote, 'for I would rather they -had deprived me of my arm, as long as it were not my sword arm. -Know, Sancho, that a mouth without grinders is like a mill without a -grindstone, and a tooth is more to be prized than a millstone. But -all this must we suffer who profess the stern rule of Knights Errant. -Mount, friend, and lead the way, for I will follow thee what pace thou -pleasest.' - - - - - [Illustration: OF A WONDERFUL ADVENTURE—] - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - Of a wonderful Adventure which Don Quixote - went through without peril to himself - or Sancho - - -'Methinks, my Master,' said Sancho, 'that all the mishaps that have -befallen us in these days are without doubt in punishment for the sin -you committed against the rules of Knighthood, in not keeping your vow -which you made, not to eat bread, and all the other things you vowed to -do, until you got the helmet of Malandrino, or whatever his name was.' - -'Thou art very right, Sancho,' said Don Quixote; 'but to tell the truth -it had passed from my memory; but I will make amends as may be done by -the rules of Knighthood.' - -'And doubtless,' replied Sancho, 'all will then be well, and I shall -live to see none so great as Don Quixote of the Mancha, the Knight of -the Rueful Countenance.' - -'Why do you give me that name, good Sancho?' asked his Master. - -'Because truly,' replied his Squire, 'your Worship has now the most -ill-favoured face that any man ever saw, and it must be, I think, -because you are tired out after the battle, or on account of the loss -of your grinders.' - -'I fancy,' said Don Quixote, 'that some sage must have put it into -thy head to give me such a name, for now I remember that all Knights -took a name of that kind, and there was "The Knight of the Flaming -Sword," and "The Knight of the Griffin," and many another. And from -this day forward I shall call myself by no other name than "The Knight -of the Rueful Countenance"; and that the name may become me better, I -will upon the first occasion cause to be painted on my shield a most -ill-favoured and sorrowful face.' - -'There is no need,' said Sancho, 'to waste time and money in having -the countenance painted. All that has to be done is that your Worship -should discover your own, and show your face to those that look at you, -when without doubt they will name you "He of the Rueful Countenance." -Hunger and the loss of teeth have given your Worship so evil a face -that you may spare yourself the painting.' - -Don Quixote laughed at his Squire's pleasantry, but determined -nevertheless to have the painting made on his shield according to his -fancy. - -They had now arrived at a wide but hidden valley between two mountains, -where they alighted; and seeing a meadow on the side of the hill thick -with green and tender grass, they entered it and marched along, feeling -their way, for the night was so dark they could not see a jot. - -They had scarcely gone two hundred paces when they heard a great noise -of water, as if it fell headlong from some great and steep rock, and -being by this time very thirsty, the sound cheered them greatly. - -Stopping to listen whence it came, they heard another loud noise, which -drowned all their joy, especially Sancho's, who, as I have said, was by -nature timid and easily frightened. - -They heard, I say, certain blows, louder than the sound of the rushing -water, and struck in regular beats, accompanied by the ugly sounds of -rattling irons and chains. These, with the furious sounds of the water, -and the surrounding darkness, were enough to strike terror into any -heart less brave than Don Quixote's. - -The night, as I said, was dark, and they were now among some tall -trees, whose leaves, moved by a gentle breeze, made a low whispering -sound, so that the loneliness of the place, the darkness, the noise -of the water, the strange sounds of the heavy beating and rattling -chains, all caused horror and fright, the more so when they found that -the blows never ceased, and morning seemed as though it would never -come. - -But Don Quixote was not disturbed by these things, and leaping on -Rozinante, he seized his shield, brandished his lance, and said: -'Friend Sancho, I am he for whom are reserved all dangerous, great, and -valorous feats. I am he who shall cause the feats of the Knights of -the Round Table to be forgotten. Mark well, trusty and loyal Squire, -the darkness of this night, the strange stillness, the dull, confused -trembling of the leaves, the dreadful noise of the water, which seems -as though it were leaping down from the steep mountains of the moon, -the constant thumping of the blows which wounds and pains our ears, -which all together and each by itself are enough to strike terror, -fear, and amazement into the mind of Mars, how much more in his that is -not accustomed to such adventures. But with me it causeth my heart to -almost burst in my bosom with joy to try this peril, however great it -may be. Therefore tighten Rozinante's girths a little, and may all be -well with thee. Wait for me here three days and no more. And if I do -not return in the end of that time, go back to our village, and from -thence, for my sake, to Toboso, where thou shalt say to my incomparable -Lady Dulcinea that her captive Knight died attempting things that might -make him worthy to be called hers.' - -When Sancho heard his Master say these things he began to weep -piteously, and said to him: 'Sir, I see no reason why you should -undertake this fearful adventure. It is now night, there is no one -sees us, we can easily turn aside and go away from the danger, and -since no one sees us no one can set us down as cowards. Remember that -I left my country, wife, and children to come and serve you, and to -obtain that unlucky and accursed Island you have promised me so often, -and now you mean to forsake me here in this desert. Put it off at least -until the morning, for it can want but little from this to daybreak.' - -'Let it want what it may,' answered Don Quixote, 'it shall never be -said of me that tears or prayers hindered my doing my duty as a Knight.' - -Sancho, seeing that his Master's mind was made up, and that his tears, -entreaties, and prayers were of no avail, determined to use his wits, -and see if by trickery he could make him wait until daybreak. And so, -when he was tightening the horse's girths, he softly and without being -felt tied his Ass's halter to both Rozinante's legs, so fast that when -Don Quixote thought to depart he could not, for his horse was not able -to go a step except by little jumps. - -Sancho, seeing the success of his trick, exclaimed: 'Behold, Sir, how -Heaven, moved by my tears and prayers, has ruled that Rozinante shall -not be able to go a step; and if you persist in urging, spurring, and -striking him, it will be to anger Fortune, and kick, as the saying is, -against the pricks.' - -Don Quixote grew angry at this, and yet the more he spurred Rozinante -the less would he move. But at last he became convinced that it was no -further use attempting to make him go, and resolved to remain quiet -until the morning came, or until Rozinante would please to depart. -And having no idea that Sancho was the cause of this, he said to him: -'Since it is so, Sancho, that Rozinante is not able to move, I am -content to wait here until morning smiles, although I weep to think it -may be so long in coming.' - -'You shall have no cause to weep,' replied Sancho; 'for I will tell you -stories from now till daylight, unless you would like to dismount and -snatch a little sleep upon the green grass, after the custom of Knights -Errant, that you may be the fresher the morrow to finish this terrible -adventure.' - -'Who talks of sleeping?' said Don Quixote angrily. 'Am I one of those -Knights that repose in time of danger? Sleep thou, who wast born to -sleep, or do what thou please, for I shall do what I think right.' - -'Good Sir, be not angry,' said Sancho, 'for I did not mean that'; and -coming as near to his Master as he durst, he placed one hand on the -pommel of his saddle and crept as near as he could, so great was the -fear he had of those blows, which all the while did sound without -ceasing. - -After many hours spent in conversation the dawn approached, and Sancho, -seeing this, unloosed Rozinante very carefully. As soon as the horse -felt himself free, though he was never very mettlesome, he began to paw -with his hoofs, and Don Quixote, noticing that he moved, took it for a -good sign, and believed that it was now time to attempt this fearful -adventure. - -And now the sun had risen, and everything appeared distinctly, and Don -Quixote saw that he was among some tall chestnut-trees that cast a very -dark shadow. He perceived that the hammering did not cease, but could -not discover what caused it, and so without delay he spurred Rozinante, -and turning back again to Sancho to bid him farewell, commanded him to -stay for him there three days at the longest, and that if he returned -not then, to take it for certain that he had ended his days in that -perilous adventure. He again repeated to him the message which he had -to carry to Lady Dulcinea, and assured him that if he came safe out of -this dreadful peril, the Squire might hold the promised Island as more -than certain. - -Here Sancho began to weep afresh at the pitiful words of his good -Master, and determined not to abandon him until the last end of this -adventure. And thereupon Don Quixote rode forward towards the terrible -noises, Sancho following him on foot, leading by the halter his good -Dapple, who was the constant companion of his good or evil fortune. - -Having gone a good distance among those chestnuts and shady trees, they -came to a little meadow which lay at the foot of some high rocks, down -which a mighty rush of water descended. At the foot of the rocks were -some houses, so roughly built that they seemed more like ruins than -houses, from whence came the din and clatter of the strokes which still -never ceased. - -Rozinante started at the noise of the water and the hammering, and -being made quiet by Don Quixote, drew near little by little to the -houses. Don Quixote murmured devoutly the name of his beloved Lady -Dulcinea, and Sancho, never apart from his Master's side, stretched out -his neck and eyes as far as he could, to see if he could make out what -it was that caused them so much terror and dismay. - -And when they had gone about another hundred paces they turned a -corner, and there before their eyes was the cause of that hideous -and terrible noise that had kept them all the night so miserable and -frightened. This was nothing worse than a mill for fulling cloth, whose -six great iron maces or pestles, driven by the water-wheels, kept on -day and night falling and rising from their troughs with successive -hammering blows. And this had caused the terrible noise which had so -terrified the adventurers. - -When Don Quixote saw what it was, he stood mute and ashamed. Sancho -beheld him, and saw that he hung his head on his breast. Don Quixote -looked also at his Squire, and saw that his cheeks were swollen with -laughter, with evident signs that he was in danger of bursting. Don -Quixote's melancholy was not so great that he could help smiling a -little at seeing Sancho, and Sancho, when he saw his Master beginning -to laugh, burst out loud and long, with such force that he had to put -his hands to his sides to prevent them splitting. - -Four times he ended and four times he started again; but what chiefly -enraged Don Quixote was that he began to repeat in a jesting manner, -imitating his Master: 'Friend Sancho, I am he for whom are reserved -all dangerous, great, and valorous feats.' And he went on repeating the -greater part of what Don Quixote had said when they first heard the -fearsome sounds. - -This was more than Don Quixote could bear, and lifting up the end of -his lance, he gave him two such blows on the back, that if he had -caught them on his pate they would have freed his Master from paying -him any more wages. - -Sancho, seeing that he had carried the jest too far, said very humbly: -'Please, good Master, I did but jest.' - -'But why dost thou jest? I tell thee I do not jest,' replied Don -Quixote. 'Come here, Master Merryman, and tell me, am I, being as I am -a Knight, to distinguish noises, and to know which are those of mills -and which are of Giants? Turn me those six hammers into Giants and cast -them at me, one by one, or all together, and if I do not turn all their -heels up, then mock me as much as thou pleasest.' - -'No more, good Sir,' said Sancho, 'for I confess I have been somewhat -too laughsome, but henceforth you may be sure that I will not once -unfold my lips to jest at your doings, but only to honour you as my -Master and Lord.' - -'By doing so thou shalt live on the face of the earth, for next to -our parents we are bound to respect our Masters as if they were our -fathers.' - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - The great Adventure and rich Winning of the - Helmet of Mambrino - - -It now began to rain, and Sancho would have entered one of the -fulling-mills for shelter, but Don Quixote had taken such a dislike to -them, on account of the jest of which he had been the victim, that he -would not go near them. - -Turning to the right, he made away into a highroad not unlike the one -on which they had travelled the day before. Very shortly Don Quixote -espied a man a-horseback who wore on his head something that glittered -like gold. Scarce had he seen him when he turned to Sancho and said: -'Methinks, Sancho, that there is no proverb that is not true, for all -proverbs are sentences taken out of experience itself, which is the -universal mother of all sciences. And there is a proverb which says, -"When one door shuts another opens." I say this because if Fortune -closed the door for us last night, deceiving us in the adventure of -the fulling-mills, to-day it opens wide the door to a better and more -certain adventure. For here, if I be not deceived, there comes one -towards us that wears on his head the helmet of Mambrino, about -which I made the oath thou knowest of.' - - [Illustration: THE RICH WINNING OF THE HELMET OF MAMBRINO] - -'See well what you say, Sir, and better what you do,' said Sancho, -'for I would not meet with more fulling-mills to hammer us out of our -senses.' - -'Peace, fellow!' cried Don Quixote; 'what has a helmet to do with -fulling-mills?' - -'I know not,' replied Sancho; 'but if I might speak as I used to, I -would give you such reasons that your Worship should see that you were -mistaken in what you say.' - -'How can I be mistaken in what I say?' cried Don Quixote. 'Tell me, -seest thou not that Knight who comes riding towards us on a dapple grey -horse, with a helmet of gold on his head?' - -'That which I see and make out,' replied Sancho, 'is nothing but a man -on a grey ass like mine carrying on his head something which shines.' - -'Why that is Mambrino's helmet,' said Don Quixote. 'Stand aside and -leave me alone with him, and thou shalt see how, without a word, this -adventure shall be ended and the helmet I have longed for be mine.' - -'As to standing aside,' muttered Sancho, 'that I will take care to do, -but I trust this is not another case of fulling-mills.' - -'I have already told thee,' said Don Quixote angrily, 'to make no -mention of the mills, and if thou dost not obey me, I vow that I will -batter the soul out of thy body.' - -At this Sancho, fearing lest his Master should carry out his threat, -held his peace. - -Now the truth of the matter as to the helmet, the horse, and the Knight -which Don Quixote saw, was this. There were in that neighbourhood two -villages, the one so small that it had neither shop nor barber, but the -larger one had; and the barber, therefore, served the smaller village -on any occasion when any one wanted his beard trimmed. It so happened -that he was now journeying to the smaller village, bringing with him a -brazen basin, and as he rode along it chanced to rain, and therefore, -to save his hat, which was a new one, he clapped the basin on his -head, and the basin being clean scoured, glittered half a league off. -He rode upon a grey ass, as Sancho said, and that was the reason why -Don Quixote took him to be a Knight with a helmet of gold riding on a -dapple grey steed, for everything he came across he made to fit in with -the things he had read of in the books of Knighthood. - -And when he saw the unfortunate rider draw near, without stopping to -speak a word, he ran at him with his lance, putting Rozinante at full -gallop, and intending to pierce him through and through. And as he -came up to him, without stopping his horse, he shouted to him: 'Defend -thyself, caitiff wretch, or else render to me of thine own will what is -mine by all the rights of war.' - -The barber, who saw this wild figure bearing down on him as he was -riding along without thought or fear of attack, had no other way to -avoid the thrust of the lance than to fall off his ass on to the -ground. And no sooner did he touch the earth than he sprang up more -nimbly than a deer and raced away across the plain faster than the -wind, leaving behind him on the ground the coveted basin. With this Don -Quixote was well content, and said that the Pagan was a wise man in -leaving behind him that for which he was attacked. - -Then he commanded Sancho to take up the helmet, who lifting it said: -'The basin is a good one, and is worth eight _reals_ if it is worth a -farthing.' - -He gave it to his Master, who placed it upon his head, turning it about -from side to side in search of the visor, and seeing he could not find -it, said: 'Doubtless the Pagan for whom this helmet was first forged -had a very great head, and the worst of it is that half of the helmet -is wanting.' - -When Sancho heard him call the basin a helmet he could not contain his -laughter, but presently remembering his Master's anger, he checked -himself in the midst of it. - -'Why dost thou laugh, Sancho?' said Don Quixote. - -'I laugh,' said he, 'to think of the great head the Pagan owner of this -helmet had. For it is all the world like a barber's basin.' - -'Know, Sancho, that I imagine,' replied Don Quixote, 'that this famous -piece of the enchanted helmet must by some strange accident have fallen -into some one's hands that knew not its great worth, and seeing that it -was of pure gold, he hath melted down one half and made of the other -half this, which seems, as thou sayest, to be a barber's basin. But be -that as it may, to me, who know its value, its transformation makes no -matter. I will have it altered at the first village where I can find a -smith, and meanwhile I will wear it as well as I can, for something is -better than nothing, all the more as it will do to protect me against -any blow from a stone.' - -'That is,' said Sancho, 'if they do not shoot from a sling, as they -shot in the battle of the two armies, when they made their mark on -your Worship's grinders and broke the oil-pot wherein you carried that -blessed Balsam.' - -'I do not much care for the loss of the Balsam,' replied Don Quixote, -'for as thou knowest, Sancho, I have the receipt for it in my memory.' - -'So have I too,' groaned Sancho; 'but if ever I make it or try it again -as long as I live may this be my last hour. But letting that pass, what -shall we do with this dapple grey steed that looks so like a grey ass, -that Martino, or whatever his name was, has left behind him? For from -the haste he made to get away I do not think he intends to come back, -and by my beard the beast is a good one.' - -'I am not accustomed to ransack and spoil those whom I overcome, nor is -it the practice of Knighthood to take the horses of others unless the -victor chance in combat to lose his own. Therefore, Sancho, leave the -horse or ass, or what else thou pleasest to call it, for when his owner -sees us departed he will return again for it.' - -'Truly,' said Sancho, 'the laws of Knighthood are strict, and if I may -not change one ass for another, may I at least change the harness?' - -'Of that I am not very sure,' said Don Quixote, 'and as it is a matter -of doubt, you must not change them unless thy need is extreme.' - -'So extreme,' said Sancho, 'that if they were for mine own person I -could not need them more.' - -So saying he decked out his Ass with a thousand fineries robbed from -the other, and made him look vastly better. Then, having taken a drink -at the stream, they turned their backs on the hateful fulling-mills, -and rode along the highroad, Don Quixote all the way describing to -Sancho the successes in store for them, until he was interrupted by an -adventure that must be told in another chapter. - - - - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE FREES THE GALLEY SLAVES] - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - How Don Quixote set at liberty many poor - Wretches who were being taken to a Place - to which they had no wish to go - - -As they rode onwards, Don Quixote lifted up his eyes and saw coming -along the road about a dozen men on foot, strung together on a great -wire chain like beads. The chain was fastened round their necks, -and they had manacles on their hands. There rode with them two men -a-horseback, and two others followed on foot. The horsemen had -firelocks, and those on foot javelins and swords. - -As soon as Sancho saw them he said: 'This is a chain of galley slaves, -people forced by the King to go to the galleys.' - -'How! People forced?' asked Don Quixote. 'Is it possible that the King -will force anybody?' - -'I say not so,' answered Sancho, 'but they are people condemned for -their offences to serve the King in the galleys.' - -'In fact,' replied Don Quixote, 'however you put it, these folk are -being taken where they go by force and not of their own free will.' - -'That is so,' said Sancho. - -'Then if it be so,' continued his Master, 'here I see before me my duty -to redress outrages and to give help to the poor and the afflicted.' - -'I pray you, Sir,' said Sancho, 'consider that Justice, representing -the King himself, does wrong or violence to nobody, but only punishes -those who have committed crimes.' - -By this time the chain of galley slaves came up, and Don Quixote in -very courteous words asked those in charge of them to be good enough to -inform him why they carried people away in that manner. - -One of the guardians a-horseback answered that they were slaves -condemned by his Majesty to the galleys, and that there was no more to -be said, nor ought Don Quixote to desire any further information. - -'For all that,' replied Don Quixote very politely, 'I would fain learn -from every one of them the cause of his disgrace.' - -To this the guardian a-horseback answered: 'Although we carry here the -register of the crimes of all these wretches, yet if you wish to do so, -ask it from themselves; and no doubt they will tell you their stories, -for they are men who take delight in boasting of their rascalities.' - -With this permission, which Don Quixote would have taken for himself if -they had not given it, he went up to the chain and asked of the first -one for what sins he had found himself in such straits. - -He answered that his offence was no other than for being in love. - -'For that and no more?' cried Don Quixote; 'but if folk are sent there -for being in love, I should have been pulling an oar there long ago.' - -'My love was not of the kind your Worship imagines,' replied the galley -slave, 'for mine was that I loved overmuch a basket stuffed with fine -linen, which I embraced so lovingly, that if the law had not taken it -from me by violence, I should not of my own free will have forsaken -it till now. I was taken in the act and sent for three years to the -galleys.' - -Don Quixote now inquired of the second his cause of offence, but he -answered him not a word, seeming too downcast and melancholy to speak. - -But the first one spoke for him, and said: 'Sir, this man goes for -being a Canary bird—I mean a musician or singer.' - -'Is it possible,' said Don Quixote, 'that musicians and singers are -sent to the galleys?' - -'Yes, indeed,' said the slave, 'there is nothing worse than to sing in -anguish.' - -'I do not understand it,' said Don Quixote, 'but I have heard say that -he who sings scares away sorrow.' - -But one of the guards interrupted him and said: 'Sir Knight, among -these wretches "to sing in anguish" means to confess on the rack. They -put this poor wretch to the torture, and he confessed that he was a -stealer of beasts. And because he has confessed he is condemned to the -galleys for six years. And he is sad and pensive because the other -thieves maltreat, abuse, and despise him. For, as they say, a _nay_ has -as many letters as a _yea_, and it is good luck for a criminal when -there are no witnesses and proofs, and his fate depends on his own -tongue, and in my opinion there is much reason in that.' - -'I think so likewise,' said Don Quixote, and he passed on to where the -third slave stood, and put to him the same question as to the others. - -The man replied very coolly, saying: 'I go to the galleys because I -wanted ten ducats.' - -'I will give thee twenty with all my heart to free thee from that -misfortune,' said Don Quixote. - -'That,' replied the Slave, 'would be like one that hath money in the -midst of the sea, and yet is dying of hunger because he can get no meat -to buy with it. If I had had the twenty ducats your Worship offers me -at the right time, I would have greased the lawyer's pen with them, and -so sharpened the advocate's wit, that instead of being trailed along -here like a greyhound, I should now have been walking about in the -market-place of Toledo. But patience. What must be must be!' - -Don Quixote went from one to another, receiving different answers, -until he came to the last, who was a man about thirty years old, of -very comely looks, except that he had a squint. He was differently tied -from the rest, for he wore a chain to his leg, so long that it wound -round his whole body. He had besides round his neck two iron rings, -from one of which two wires came down to his waist, on which were -fastened two manacles. These held his hands fast locked with a great -hanging lock, so that he could neither put his hand to his mouth nor -bend down his head to his hands. - -Don Quixote asked why he was so loaded with iron more than the rest. - -The Guard answered that it was because he had committed more crimes -than all the rest put together, and that he was such a desperate -scoundrel that although they carried him tied up in that fashion, they -were not sure of him, but feared that he might make an escape. 'He -goes,' continued the Guard, 'to the galleys for ten years; and when -I tell you he is the infamous Gines of Passamonte, you will need, I -think, to know no more about him.' - -At this, Gines, who seemed very impatient at the Guard's history, broke -out into a torrent of abuse, and then, turning to Don Quixote, said: -'Sir Knight, if you have anything to bestow on us, give it us now, and -begone, for you do but weary us by wanting to know the stories of -other men's lives; and if you want to learn more, know that I am Gines -of Passamonte, whose life has been written by his own hand.' - -'He speaks truly,' said the Guard, 'for he himself hath penned his own -history.' - -'And how is the book called?' asked Don Quixote. - -'It is called the _Life of Gines of Passamonte_,' replied the Slave. - -'And is it yet ended?' inquired the Knight. - -'How can it be finished,' replied Gines, 'seeing my life is not yet -finished? I intend to finish it in the galleys.' - -'You seem to be a clever fellow,' said Don Quixote. - -'And an unlucky one,' replied Gines, 'for bad luck always pursues -genius.' - -'It pursues knaves,' interrupted the Guard; and at this Gines burst out -again into abuse and bad language, which ended in the Guard threatening -to beat him with his rod if he did not hold his peace. - -At this Don Quixote put himself between them, and entreated the Guard -not to use him hardly, seeing that it was not much that one who carried -his hands so tied should have his tongue free. - -Then turning himself towards the slaves he said: 'I have gathered from -all you have said, dear brethren, that although they punish you for -your faults, yet the pains you suffer do not please you, and that you -march towards them with a very ill will. All this prompts me to do that -for you, for which I was sent into the world, and for which I became a -Knight Errant, and to which end I vowed at all times to succour the -poor and help those that are oppressed. But as it is prudent not to do -by foul means what can be done by fair, I will entreat these gentlemen -your guardians that they will unloose you and let you depart in peace, -for it seems to me a harsh thing to make slaves of those who are born -free.' And turning to the guards he continued: 'These things I ask of -you in a peaceable and quiet manner, and if you grant my request I -shall give you my thanks; but if you will not do it willingly, then -shall this lance and sword of mine, guided by the invincible valour of -mine arm, force you to do my will.' - -'This is pretty fooling,' replied the Guard. 'Would you have us release -to you those the King has imprisoned? Go your way, good Sir, settle the -basin on your head more straightly, and study to find out, if you have -wits enough, how many feet a cat has.' - -'You are a cat and a rat and a knave!' said Don Quixote in a rage. -And without a word he set on him so fiercely, and without giving him -time to defend himself, that he struck him to the earth badly wounded -with his lance. Luckily for the Knight this was the Guard that had the -firelock. - -At first the other guards stood astounded at this unexpected event. -Then they recovered themselves, and the horsemen drew their swords, the -footmen grasped their javelins, and all of them attacked Don Quixote, -who quietly prepared to receive them. No doubt he would have been in -some danger, but the slaves, seeing a chance of liberty, broke the -chain by which they were linked together. The hurly-burly was such that -the guards first ran to prevent the slaves getting free, then to defend -themselves from Don Quixote who attacked them, so that they could do -nothing to any purpose to keep their prisoners. Sancho, for his part, -helped to loose Gines of Passamonte, who was the first to leap into -the field free from all fetters, and setting upon the other overthrown -guard, he took his sword and firelock from him. With the latter in his -hand, by pointing it at one and aiming it at the other, he cleared the -field of all the guards, who were the more easily got rid of because -the galley slaves were now all at liberty, and showered at their late -keepers volleys of stones. - -When their victory was complete, Don Quixote called all the slaves -together, and they gathered round to hear what he commanded, when he -spoke to them as follows: 'It is the duty of well-bred people to be -grateful for benefits received, and ingratitude is one of the worst of -sins. I say this, Sirs, because you know what good you have received -at my hand, and the only reward I ask, is that you all go from here -laden with the chains from which I have just freed your necks to the -City of Toboso, and there present yourselves before the Lady Dulcinea -of Toboso, and tell her that her Knight of the Rueful Countenance sends -you there to do her service. Relate unto her the way in which I won -your freedom; and this being done, you may then go your ways.' - -Gines answered for all the rest, saying: 'That which you demand is -impossible to perform, because we must not travel the roads together, -but go alone and divided, to the end that we be not captured again -by the guards of the Holy Brotherhood, who will make search for us. -To tell us to go to Toboso is as absurd as to seek for pears on an -elm-tree, and we shall not do it.' - -At this Don Quixote was mightily enraged, and said: 'I tell thee, Don -Gines, or whatever thy name is, that after what thou hast said thou -shalt go thyself alone, with thy tail between thy legs and bearing the -whole length of the chains with thee.' - -Gines, who was a violent fellow, and quite understood that Don Quixote -was not very wise, seeing the foolish way in which he had set them at -liberty, would not stand this abuse, and winked at his companions, who, -stepping aside, sent such a shower of stones against Don Quixote that -he had not time to cover himself with his shield, and poor Rozinante -was in such terror that he would not move forward to the attack. Sancho -ran behind his Ass, and by this means sheltered himself from the -tempest of stones that rained on both of them. Several stones struck -Don Quixote on the body with such force that at last he fell from his -horse and on to the ground, and no sooner was he fallen than Gines -leaped upon him, and, taking the basin from his head, gave him three -or four blows with it on the shoulders, and afterwards struck it on -the ground so as to break it into pieces. They then stripped him of a -tunic he wore over his armour, and would have taken his stockings if -they could have got them from under his armour. From Sancho they took -his coat, leaving him in his shirt sleeves, and, dividing the spoils of -battle among themselves, they made the best of their way off, each one -as it pleased him, with no further thought of their benefactor or his -Lady Dulcinea of Toboso. - -The Ass, Rozinante, Sancho, and Don Quixote remained alone. The Ass, -with drooping head, stood shaking his ears every now and then as if he -thought the storm of stones was not yet over, Rozinante lay overthrown -by his Master, who was lying on the ground, Sancho stood trembling at -the thought of the bullets of the Holy Brotherhood, and Don Quixote was -amazed to see himself so wickedly used by those to whom he had done so -great a service. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - Of what befell Don Quixote in the - Brown Mountains - - -Don Quixote, finding himself in such a bad plight, said to his Squire: -'I have often heard it said that to do good to ungrateful men, is to -cast water into the sea. If I had listened to your advice, I might have -avoided this trouble. But, now that it is over, there is nothing for it -but to be patient and to be wise another time.' - -'If you take warning by this or anything else,' replied Sancho, 'call -me a Turk. But, as you say, you might have avoided this trouble by -taking my advice. Listen to what I say now, and you will avoid a -greater danger. For let me tell you that it is no use talking about -Knighthood and its customs to the Holy Brotherhood, for it cares not -two farthings for all the Knights Errant in the world, and for myself, -I seem to hear their arrows buzzing round my ears already.' - -'Thou art by nature a coward, Sancho,' replied Don Quixote; 'but that -thou mayest not say that I am obstinate, and that I never follow thine -advice, I will take thy counsel this time, and hide myself from the -attacks thou fearest so greatly. But it must be on one condition, -that thou never tell to any mortal creature that I withdrew myself out -of this danger for fear, but only to humour thy wishes. For if thou -sayest anything else thou liest.' - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE MEETING CARDENIO] - -'Sir,' answered Sancho Panza, 'to retreat is not to run away, nor is it -wise to wait where there is more danger than hope, and it is the part -of a wise man to spend to-day in keeping himself safe for to-morrow. -Therefore, rude clown as I am, take my advice, and mount Rozinante and -follow me as quickly as you are able.' - -Don Quixote mounted Rozinante without another word, and, Sancho leading -the way on his Ass, they entered that part of the Brown Mountains that -was near them, a favourite haunt for outlaws and robbers in those days, -and a spot where they would be safe from pursuit. For it was Sancho's -plan to hide themselves for some days among the crags, so as not to be -found even if the Holy Brotherhood should come and look for them. - -They arrived that night in the very midst of the mountains, and there -Sancho thought it best to spend the night, and, indeed, as many days -as their food lasted; and with this intention they took up their abode -among a number of tall trees that grew between two rocks. - -It happened, however, that Gines of Passamonte, the famous cheat and -robber whom Don Quixote by his valour and folly had released from his -chains, resolved to hide himself also among the same mountains, and -destiny led him to the very spot where Don Quixote and his Squire -were hiding, and at the very moment that they had fallen asleep, tired -out with the day's toil. And as the wicked are always ungrateful, and -necessity forces them to evil deeds, Gines, who was neither grateful -nor good natured, resolved to rob Sancho Panza of his Ass, not caring -for Rozinante, as he thought he was not worth riding or selling. Sancho -Panza slept soundly, and, while he slept, Gines stole his Ass, and -before morning he was so far off as to be past finding. - -The morning sun arose bringing joy to the earth, but only grief to poor -Sancho, for he missed his Dapple, and, finding himself deprived of -him, he began the saddest and most doleful lamentation possible, and -when Don Quixote awoke he heard him mourning in a most melancholy way, -crying out: 'O my beloved Ass, born in mine own house, the sport of my -children, the comfort of my wife, the envy of my neighbours, the ease -of my burdens, and, beyond all, the support of my household, for with -what I gained daily by thee did I pay half of mine expenses!' - -Don Quixote, who heard this lament, and knew the cause of it, comforted -Sancho as best he could, and desired him to have patience, promising -to give him a letter to command those at his house to hand over to him -three out of five ass foals that he had at home. Sancho was comforted -by this, dried his tears, moderated his sobs, and thanked Don Quixote -for the favours he had done him. - -And as they entered farther among the mountains the Knight felt glad -at heart that he had come to a place so suitable for the adventures he -was in search of. They reminded him of marvellous stories he had read -of what had happened to Knights Errant in similar wild places, and -his mind was so full of these things that he thought of nothing else -whatever. As for Sancho, he trudged behind his Master, loaded with the -things that his Ass should have carried. - -While Sancho was thus walking along, he raised his eyes and saw that -his Master had come to a stop, and was trying with the point of his -lance to lift what seemed like a bundle that was lying on the ground. -Upon which he ran to see whether his Master wanted his aid, and came up -to him just as he was lifting up a saddle cushion with a portmanteau -fast to it. These were half rotten and falling to pieces, yet they -weighed so much that Sancho's help was required to lift them up. His -Master ordered him to see what was in the portmanteau, and Sancho -obeyed him as quickly as might be. And although it was shut with a -chain and a padlock, yet Sancho could see through the rents and tears -what was inside it, namely, four fine Holland shirts and other linen -clothes, both curious and delicate, besides a handkerchief containing a -good quantity of gold. - -'At last,' cried Sancho, 'we have met with an adventure worth -something,' and searching on he came across a little memorandum book -very richly bound. - -Don Quixote asked him for this, but bade him keep the money for himself. - -For this rich favour Sancho kissed his hands, and taking all the -linen, he crammed it into their provision-bag. - -Don Quixote, having considered awhile, said: 'Methinks, Sancho, that -some traveller having lost his way must have passed over the mountains, -and being met by thieves, they slew him and buried him in this secret -place.' - -'It cannot be so,' answered Sancho, 'for if they had been thieves they -would not have left the money behind them.' - -'Thou sayest true,' said Don Quixote, 'and therefore I cannot guess -what can have happened. But stay, we will look at the pocket-book, and -see whether there is anything written in it by which we may discover -what we want to know.' - -He opened it, and the first thing he found in it was a poem, which was -all about the author's love for some fair Chloe who would not care for -him. Don Quixote read this aloud to Sancho. - -'Nothing can be learned from these verses,' said the Squire, 'unless by -that clue which is there we may get some help.' - -'What clue is there here?' said Don Quixote. - -'I thought your Lordship mentioned a clue there.' - -'I did not say _clue_, but _Chloe_,' replied Don Quixote, 'which -no doubt is the name of the lady of whom the author of this poem -complains.' - -After looking through the book again, Don Quixote found a despairing -love-letter, and several other verses and letters full of laments and -misery, from which he came to the conclusion that the owner of the -book was some sad rejected lover. - -The Knight of the Rueful Countenance was very desirous to know who was -the owner of the portmanteau, believing from what he had seen that he -must be a man of some position, whom the disdain and cruelty of a fair -lady had driven to desperate courses. But as there was no one in this -remote and solitary place to satisfy his curiosity, he rode on, taking -any road that Rozinante chose, in the firm belief that he would find -some strange adventure among the mountains. - -And as he rode he saw a man on top of a little mountain, leaping from -rock to rock and tuft to tuft with marvellous agility. He made him out -to be half-naked, with a black and matted beard, his hair long and -tangled, his feet unshod, and his legs bare. He wore some breeches of -tawny velvet, but these appeared so torn to rags that his skin showed -in many places. His head, too, was bare, and although he ran by with -all haste, yet was the Knight able to mark all these things. But he -could not follow him, because it was not in Rozinante's power, being -in a weak state and naturally very slow and steady-going, to travel -over these rough places at any speed. Don Quixote at once came to the -conclusion that he was the owner of the portmanteau, and resolved to go -in search of him, even if he should have to spend a whole year in the -mountains till he found him. So he commanded Sancho to go on one side -of the mountain, while he went the other, and, said he, 'one of us -may thus come across this man who has vanished so suddenly out of our -sight.' - -'I dare not do so,' replied Sancho, 'for on parting one step from -you, fear seizes me and fills me with a thousand kinds of terror and -affright. Let me say, once for all, that henceforth I do not stir a -finger's-breadth from your presence.' - -'Well,' replied Don Quixote, 'I am glad that thou dost build upon my -valour, which shall not fail thee even though everything else fails -thee. Follow me, then, and keep thine eyes open, so that we may find -this strange man, who is no doubt the owner of the portmanteau.' - -'Surely,' said Sancho, 'it were better not to find him, for if we -should meet him, and he turned out to be the owner of the money, we -should have to return it to him. Let us rather keep it faithfully until -some one turns up to claim it, when perhaps I shall have spent it all, -and in that case I shall be free from blame.' - -'In that thou art mistaken, Sancho,' replied Don Quixote, 'for now that -we have a suspicion who the owner is, we are bound to search him out -and restore him his money.' - -So saying Don Quixote led the way, and in a little time they came upon -a dead mule, half devoured by dogs and crows; and as they were looking -at it they heard a whistle, such as shepherds use, and there appeared -at their left hand a great number of goats, and behind them on the top -of the mountain was the Goatherd, who was quite an old man. - -Don Quixote called to him, and begged him to come down to where they -stood; and the Goatherd, after looking at them for a few minutes, in -surprise at seeing them in this lonely spot, descended to where they -stood. - -'I wager,' he said, as he came towards them, 'that you are wondering -how the mule came there that lies dead in that bottom. Well, it has -been lying there these six months. Tell me, have you come across his -master as yet?' - -'We have fallen in with nobody,' replied Don Quixote, 'but a saddle -cushion and a portmanteau, which we found not far from here.' - -'I have also found the same portmanteau,' said the Goatherd, 'but I -would never take it up nor approach it for fear some ill-luck should -come upon me, or lest some one should accuse me of theft.' - -'Tell me, my good fellow,' said Don Quixote, 'do you know who is the -owner of these things?' - -'All I can tell you is this,' said the Goatherd, 'that some six months -ago, more or less, there arrived at one of our sheepfolds, some three -leagues off, a young gentleman of comely presence mounted on that mule -which lies dead there, and with the same saddle cushion and portmanteau -that you have seen. He asked us which was the most hidden part of the -mountain, and we told him that this was, which is certainly true, for -if you go a league further on perhaps you might not find your way out, -and indeed I marvel how you found your way in so readily. As soon as -the young man had heard our answer he turned his bridle and went -towards the place we showed him, and made towards these mountains. -After that we did not see him for a good many days, until one day, when -one of our shepherds came by with provisions, he attacked him and beat -him, and carried off all the bread and cheese that he carried, and then -fled away back again to the mountains. When we heard of this, some of -us goatherds went to look for him, and spent almost two days in the -most solitary places in the mountains, and in the end found him lurking -in the hollow part of a large cork-tree. He came out to us very meekly, -his clothes torn and his face burned by the sun, so that we hardly knew -him again. He saluted us courteously, and in a few civil words told -us not to wonder at his condition, for he was working out a penance -placed upon him for the sins he had committed. We begged him to tell -us who he was, but he would not do so. We begged him also that when -he had need of food he would tell us where we might find him, and we -would willingly bring it to him, and told him there was no need to take -it by force. He thanked us very much for our offer, and asked pardon -for his violence, and promised in future to ask food of our shepherds -without giving annoyance to any one. But even while he was speaking to -us, he bit his lips and bent his brows, and it was clear some fit of -madness was upon him, for he cried out: "O treacherous Fernando, here -thou shalt pay me the injury thou didst me; these hands shall rend thy -heart!" and many other wild and whirring words which he addressed to -some Fernando. But at the same time he fell upon one of our goatherds, -and we had no little trouble to get him away. Then without another word -he fled to the briars and the brambles, where we could not follow him. -By this we think that he has a madness which comes upon him at times, -for sometimes he will take his food from our shepherds with courtesy -and humanity, at others he seizes it by force, though they are ever -willing to give it. We have thought to take him by force to the town -of Almodavar, to see if he can be cured, or to find out if he has any -relatives to whom we can restore him. This, Sirs, is all that I can -tell you of what you have asked me, and for certain he it is who is the -owner of the things you have found.' - -Don Quixote was greatly amazed by what he had heard, and determined to -search for him through the mountains, without leaving a corner or cave -unsought until he had found him. - - - - - [Illustration: THE STORY OF CARDENIO] - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - The Story of Cardenio - - -Fortune favoured Don Quixote in his search for the strange owner -of the portmanteau, for, even as he was speaking to the Goatherd, -he appeared at that very instant through a gorge of the mountain, -murmuring to himself words which one could not have understood near at -hand, much less afar off. His clothes were such as have been described, -only differing in this, that when he drew near, Don Quixote noticed -that he wore a leather jerkin, which, though tattered and torn, was -perfumed with amber. From this he guessed that the man who wore such -garments was a person of quality. On coming towards them, the youth -addressed them in a hoarse tone but with great courtesy, and Don -Quixote returned his greetings with equal kindness, and, alighting from -Rozinante, went to meet him, and clasping him in his arms, embraced him -as though he had known him for a very long time. - -Then the stranger, whom we may call the Tattered One, addressed the -Knight of the Rueful Countenance in the following words: 'Truly, good -Sir, whoever you may be, for I know you not, I thank you with all my -heart for your grace and courtesy towards me, and wish only that I -could repay you some of the kindness you shower on me.' - -'So great is my desire to serve you,' replied Don Quixote, 'that I was -fully resolved never to part out of these mountains until I had found -you, and heard from your own lips whether there was any remedy for your -grief. For it is a consolation in sorrow to have some one to condole -with you. And I entreat you, Sir, tell me who you are, and what has -brought you to live and die in these solitudes like a brute beast. For -I swear by the high honour of Knighthood which I have received, that if -you will tell me everything, I will either help you in all good earnest -to overcome your troubles, or, if that cannot be, then I will assist in -lamenting them.' - -The Tattered One looked at Don Quixote from head to foot, and stared -at him in amazement for a long time. At length he said: 'If you have -anything to eat, give it to me, and after I have eaten I will do all -that you ask in return for the kindness you show me.' - -Sancho and the Goatherd then gave him what food they had, and this -he devoured with the eagerness of a wild beast, so that he seemed to -swallow the food rather than chew it, and whilst he ate the others left -him in peace. Having ended his dinner, he made signs to them to follow -him, which they did, and he took them to a little meadow hard by that -place at the back of the mountain. - -Arriving there he laid himself down on the grass, the others doing the -same, and he began as follows:— - -'If it is your pleasure, Sirs, to hear of my misfortunes, you must -promise me that you will not interrupt the thread of my sad story by -questions or anything else, for directly you do I shall stop telling -it.' - -Don Quixote promised in the name of them all, and the Tattered One -commenced his story. - -'My name is Cardenio; the place of my birth one of the best cities in -Andalusia; my lineage noble, my parents rich, and my misfortunes so -great that I think no one was ever to be pitied as I am. There dwelt -in the same city wherein I was born a damsel as noble and rich as I -was, whose name was Lucinda. I loved, honoured, and adored Lucinda -from earliest childhood, and she loved me with all the earnestness of -youth. Our parents knew of our love, and were not sorry to see it, and -so we grew up in mutual esteem and affection. Ah! how many letters have -I written, and how many verses have I penned, and how many songs has -she inspired! At length the time came when I could wait no longer, and -I went to ask her of her father for my lawful wife. He answered that -he thanked me for the desire I showed to honour him and to honour -myself with his loved treasure, but that my father being alive, it was -by strict right his business to make that demand. For if it were not -done with his good will and pleasure, Lucinda was not the woman to be -taken or given by stealth. I thanked him for his kindness, and, feeling -there was reason in what he said, I hurried to my father to tell him -my desires. At the moment I entered his room he was standing with a -letter open in his hand, and before I could speak to him he gave it to -me, saying as he did so: "By that letter, Cardenio, you may learn the -desire that the Duke Ricardo has to do you favour." This Duke Ricardo, -you must know, gentlemen, is a Grandee of Spain, whose dukedom is -situated in the best part of all Andalusia. I took the letter and read -it, and it was so very kind that it seemed to me wrong that my father -should not do what he asked. For he wanted me as a companion—not as -a servant—to his eldest son, and offered to advance me in life if he -should find me worthy. I read the letter, and could see that it was no -time now to speak to my father, who said to me: "Cardenio, thou must be -ready in two days to depart, and to do all that the Duke desires, and -be thankful that such a future lies open before thee." - -'The time for my departure arrived. I spoke to my dear Lucinda and also -to her father, and begged him to wait for a while until I knew what the -Duke Ricardo wanted of me, and until my future was certain. He promised -not to bestow his daughter elsewhere, and she vowed to be always -faithful to me, and so I left. - -'I was indeed well received by the Duke Ricardo and nobly treated. His -elder son liked me well, and was kind to me, but the one who rejoiced -most at my coming was Fernando, his second son, a young man who was -both noble, gallant, and very comely. In a short time he had so made me -his friend that there were no secrets between us, and he told me all -his thoughts and desires, and confided to me a love affair of his own -which caused him much anxiety. - -'He had fallen in love with the daughter of a farmer, his father's -vassal, whose parents were rich, and she herself was beautiful, modest, -and virtuous. But he did not dare to tell his father of his love -because of their difference in rank, and though he had promised to -marry this farmer's daughter, he had come to fear that the Duke would -never consent to let him carry out his desire. He told me that he could -find no better mode of keeping the remembrance of her beauty out of his -mind, than by leaving home for some months; and he suggested that we -should both depart for awhile to my father's house, under the pretence -of going to buy horses, for the city where I was born was a place where -they bred the best horses in the world. - -'When I heard of his wishes I did all I could to strengthen them, and -urged him to carry out his plan, which offered me a chance of seeing -once more my dear Lucinda. - -'At last the Duke gave him leave, and ordered me to go with him. We -arrived at my native city, and my father gave him the reception due -to his rank. I again saw Lucinda. My love for her increased, though -indeed it had never grown cold, and to my sorrow I told Don Fernando -all about it, for I thought by the laws of friendship it was not right -to hide anything from him. I described her beauty, her grace, and her -wit, with such eloquence, that my praises stirred in him a desire -to see a damsel enriched by such rare virtues. To my misfortune I -yielded to his wish, and took him with me one night to a window where -Lucinda and I were wont to speak together. He stood mute, as one beside -himself, and from that moment he could speak nothing but praises of -my Lucinda. Yet I confess that I took no pleasure in hearing her thus -praised, because it roused in me a strange feeling of jealousy. I -did not fear the faith and honour of Lucinda, but at the same time I -felt a hidden terror of the future. Now Don Fernando continued, as my -friend, to read all the letters I sent to Lucinda, or she to me, under -the pretence that he took great delight in the wit of both of us, and -it fell out that Lucinda asked me to send her a book of the Knightly -Adventures of Amadis of Gaul.' - -No sooner did Don Quixote hear the name of one of his favourite heroes -than he interrupted the story, saying: 'If, my good Sir, you had told -me that your Lady Lucinda was a reader of knightly adventures, you -need not have said anything else to make me acknowledge her wit. Waste -no further words on her beauty and worth, for now I assert that from -her devotion to books of Knighthood, the Lady Lucinda is the fairest -and most accomplished woman in all the world. Pardon my interruption, -but when I hear anything said of the books of Knights Errant, I can no -more keep from speaking of them than the sunbeams can help giving forth -warmth. Therefore forgive me, and proceed.' - -While Don Quixote was speaking, Cardenio held his head down, his face -grew sullen, and he bit his lip. When he looked up, he seemed to have -forgotten all about his story, and in a burst of rage said: 'A plague -on all your books of Knighthood! Amadis was a fool, and the Queen -Madasima was a wicked woman.' - -'By all that is good,' replied Don Quixote, in great anger—for this -Queen was a favourite heroine of his—'it is a villainy to say such a -thing. The Queen Madasima was a very noble lady, and whoever says or -thinks the contrary lies like an arrant coward, and this I will make -him know a-horseback or a-foot, armed or disarmed, by night or day, as -he liketh best.' - -Cardenio stood gazing at Don Quixote strangely—for now the mad fit -was on him—and hearing himself called liar and coward, he caught up -a stone that was near him, and gave the Knight such a blow with it -that he threw him backwards on the ground. Sancho Panza, seeing his -Master so roughly handled, set upon the madman with his fists, but the -Tattered One overthrew him with one blow and trampled him under his -feet like dough. After this he departed into the wood very quietly. - -Sancho got up and wanted to take vengeance on the Goatherd, who, he -said, should have warned them about the madman. The Goatherd declared -he had done so, and Sancho retorted that he had not; and from words -they got to blows, and had seized each other by the beards, when Don -Quixote parted them, saying that the Goatherd was in no way to blame -for what had happened. He then again inquired where Cardenio was likely -to be found, and the Goatherd repeated what he had said at first, that -his abode was uncertain, but that if they went much about in those -parts they would be sure to meet with him either mad or sane. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - Of the Strange Adventures that happened to the - Knight of the Mancha in the Brown Mountains, - and of the Penance he did there in - imitation of Beltenebros - - -Don Quixote took leave of the Goatherd, and, mounting once again on -Rozinante, he commanded Sancho to follow him, who obeyed, but with -a very ill will. They travelled slowly, entering the thickest and -roughest part of the mountains, and at last Sancho Panza, who was -growing very impatient, burst out: 'Good Sir Don Quixote, let me speak -what is on my mind, for it is a hard thing to go about looking for -adventures all one's life, and find nothing but tramplings under the -feet, and tossings in blankets, and stoning, and blows, and buffets.' - -'Speak on,' replied his Master, 'for I will hear what thou hast to say.' - -'Then,' replied Sancho, 'I would know what benefit your Worship could -reap by taking the part of the Queen Magimasas, or whatever you call -her. For if you had let it pass, I believe the madman would have -finished his tale, and I should have escaped a beating.' - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE DOING PENANCE] - -'In faith, Sancho,' replied Don Quixote, 'if thou knewest as well as I -do, how honourable a lady was Queen Madasima, thou wouldst rather say -I behaved with great patience. Cardenio knew not what he was saying to -call her wicked, and must have been out of his senses.' - -'So say I,' said Sancho, 'and you ought not to take notice of the words -of a madman.' - -'Against sane and mad,' replied Don Quixote, 'is every Knight Errant -bound to stand up for the honour of women, whoever they may be. Be -silent, therefore, and meddle not with what does not concern thee. -Understand that all I do is guided by the rules of Knighthood, which -are better known to me than to any Knight that ever lived.' - -'Sir!' replied Sancho, 'is there any rule of Knighthood which obliges -us to wander among the mountains looking for a madman, who, if he is -found, will probably break our heads again?' - -'Peace, I say, Sancho, once again!' exclaimed Don Quixote, 'for thou -must know that it is not only the desire of finding the madman that -brings me into these wilds, but because I have in mind to carry out an -adventure that shall bring me eternal fame and renown over the whole -face of the earth.' - -'Is it a dangerous adventure?' asked Sancho. - -'That is according as it turns out,' replied Don Quixote. 'But I will -keep you no longer in the dark about it. You must know that Amadis -of Gaul was the most perfect of all the Knights Errant. And as he -was the morning star and the sun of all valiant Knights, so am I wise -in imitating all he did. And I remember that when his Lady Oriana -disdained his love, he showed his wisdom, virtue, and manhood by -changing his name to Beltenebros and retiring to a wild country, there -to perform a penance. And as I may more easily imitate him in this than -in slaying giants, beheading serpents, killing monsters, destroying -armies, and putting navies to flight, and because this mountain seems -to fit for the purpose, I intend myself to do penance here.' - -'But what is it that your Worship intends to do in this out of the way -spot?' asked Sancho. - -'Have not I told thee already,' replied his Master, 'that I mean to -copy Amadis of Gaul, by acting here the part of a despairing, mad, and -furious lover?' - -'I believe,' continued Sancho, 'that the Knights who went through these -penances must have had some reason for so doing, but what cause has -your Worship for going mad? What Lady hath disdained you? How has the -Lady Dulcinea of Toboso ever treated you unkindly?' - -'That is just the point of it,' said Don Quixote: 'for a Knight Errant -to go mad for good reason has no merit in it, but the whole kernel of -the matter is to go mad without a cause. Therefore, Sancho, waste no -more time, for mad I am, and mad I shall remain, until thou return -again with the answer to a letter which I mean to send with thee to my -Lady Dulcinea. If the answer is such as I deserve, my penance will end, -but if the contrary, I shall run mad in good earnest. But tell me, -Sancho, hast thou kept safely the helmet of Mambrino?' - -'Really, Sir Knight,' answered Sancho, 'I cannot listen patiently to -some things your Worship says, and I sometimes think all you tell me of -Knighthood is nothing but a pack of lies. For to hear your Worship say -that a barber's basin is Mambrino's helmet, and not to find out your -mistake in four days, makes one wonder whether one is standing on one's -head or one's heels. I carry the basin right enough in my baggage, all -battered and dented, and intend to take it home and put it to rights, -and soap my beard in it when I return to my wife and children.' - -'Ah, Sancho,' replied Don Quixote, 'I think that thou hast the -shallowest pate that ever any Squire had or hath in this world. Is it -possible thou hast so long travelled with me and not found out that all -the adventures of Knights Errant appear illusions, follies, and dreams, -and turn out all contrariwise? So this that thou callest a barber's -basin is to me Mambrino's helmet, and to another person has some -other shape altogether. Not that it has all these shapes, but these -things are the work of wicked enchanters or magicians, who transform -everything, making things seem what they please in order to annoy us.' - -By this time they had arrived at the foot of a lofty mountain, which -stood like a huge rock apart from all the rest. Close by glided a -smooth river, hemmed in on every side by a green and fertile meadow. -Around were many fine trees and plants and flowers, which made the -spot a most delightful one. - -'Here!' cried Don Quixote in a loud voice, 'I elect to do my penance. -Here shall the tears from my eyes swell the limpid streams, and here -shall the sighs of my heart stir the leaves of every mountain tree. O -Dulcinea of Toboso, day of my night and star of my fortunes, consider -the pass to which I am come, and return a favourable answer to my -wishes!' - -With this he alighted from Rozinante, and, taking off his saddle and -bridle, gave him a slap on his haunches, and said: 'He gives thee -liberty that wants it himself, O steed, famous for thy swiftness and -the great works thou hast done!' - -When Sancho heard all this he could not help saying: 'I wish Dapple -were here, for he deserves at least as long a speech in his praise; but -truly, Sir Knight, if my journey with your letter, and your penance -here, are really to take place, it would be better to saddle Rozinante -again, that he may supply the want of mine Ass.' - -'As thou likest about that,' said Don Quixote; 'but thou must not -depart for three days as yet, during which time thou shalt see what I -will say and do for my Lady's sake, that thou mayest tell her all about -it.' - -'But what more can I see,' asked Sancho, 'than what I have already -seen?' - -'Thou art well up in the matter, certainly,' replied his Master, 'for -as yet I have done nothing, and if I am to be a despairing lover, I -must tear my clothes, and throw away mine armour, and beat my head -against these rocks, with many other things that shall make thee -marvel.' - -'For goodness' sake,' cried Sancho, 'take care how you go knocking -your head against rocks, for you might happen to come up against so -ungracious a rock that it would put an end to the penance altogether. -If the knocks on the head are necessary, I should content yourself, -seeing that this madness is all make-believe, with striking your head -on some softer thing, and leave the rest to me, for I will tell your -Lady that I saw you strike your head on the point of a rock that was -harder than a diamond.' - -'I thank thee, Sancho, for thy good will,' replied the Knight, 'but the -rules of Knighthood forbid me to act or to speak a lie, and therefore -the knocks of the head must be real solid knocks, and it will be -necessary for thee to leave me some lint to cure them, seeing that -fortune has deprived us of that precious Balsam.' - -'It was worse to lose the Ass,' said Sancho, 'seeing that with him we -lost lint and everything; but pray, your Worship, never mention that -horrible Balsam again, for the very name of it nearly turns me inside -out. And now write your letter, and let me saddle Rozinante and begone, -for I warrant when I once get to Toboso I will tell the Lady Dulcinea -such strange things of your follies and madness, that I shall make her -as soft as a glove even though I find her harder than a cork-tree. And -with her sweet and honied answer I will return as speedily as a witch -on a broomstick, and release you from your penance.' - -'But how shall we write a letter here?' said Don Quixote. - -'And how can you write the order for the handing over to me of the -ass-colts?' asked Sancho. - -'Seeing there is no paper,' said the Knight, 'we might, like the -ancients, write on waxen tablets, but that wax is as hard to find -as paper. But now that I come to think of it, there is Cardenio's -pocket-book. I will write on that, and thou shalt have the matter of -it written out in a good round hand at the first village wherein thou -shalt find a schoolmaster.' - -'But what is to be done about the signature?' asked Sancho. - -'The letters of Amadis were never signed,' replied Don Quixote. - -'That is all very well,' said Sancho, 'but the paper for the three -asses must be signed, for if it be copied out they shall say it is -false, and then I shall not get the ass-colts.' - -'Well, then, the order for the ass-colts shall be signed in the book,' -said Don Quixote; 'and as for the love-letter, thou shalt put this -ending to it, "Yours till death, the Knight of the Rueful Countenance." -And it will be no great matter that it goes in a strange hand, for as -well as I remember Dulcinea can neither read nor write, nor has she -ever seen my handwriting. For indeed, during the twelve years I have -been loving her more dearly than the light of my eyes, I have only -seen her four times, and I doubt if she hath ever noticed me at all, -so closely have her father Lorenzo Corchuelo, and her mother Aldonza -brought her up.' - -'Ha! ha!' cried Sancho, 'then the Lady Dulcinea of Toboso is the -daughter of Lorenzo Corchuelo, and is called Aldonza Corchuelo?' - -'That is she,' said Don Quixote, 'and a lady worthy to be the Empress -of this wide universe.' - -'I know her very well,' replied Sancho, 'and can tell you that she -can throw an iron bar with the strongest lad in our village. She is a -girl of mettle, tall and stout, and a sturdy lass that can hold her -own with any Knight Errant in the world. Out upon her, what an arm she -hath! Why, I saw her one day stand on top of the church belfry, to call -her father's servants from the fields, and, though they were half a -league off, they heard her as though she were in the next field; and -the best of her is there is nothing coy about her, but she jokes with -all and makes game and jest of everybody. To be frank with you, Sir -Don Quixote, I have been living under a great mistake, for, really and -truly, I thought all this while that the Lady Dulcinea was some great -Princess with whom your Worship was in love.' - -'I have told thee, Sancho, many times before now,' said Don Quixote, -'that thou art a very great babbler. Understand, then, that my Lady -Dulcinea is to me as good and beautiful as any Princess in the world, -and that is enough.' - -With these words he took out the pocket-book, and, going aside, began -to write with great gravity. When he had ended, he called Sancho to him -and read him the following letter:— - - 'SOVEREIGN LADY, - - 'The sore wounded one, O sweetest Dulcinea of Toboso, sends thee the - health which he wants himself. If thy beauty disdain me, I cannot - live. My good Squire Sancho will give thee ample account, O ungrateful - fair one, of the penance I do for love of thee. Should it be thy - pleasure to favour me, I am thine. If not, by ending my life I shall - satisfy both thy cruelty and my desires. - - 'Thine until death, - 'THE KNIGHT OF THE RUEFUL COUNTENANCE.' - -'By my fathers life,' said Sancho, 'it is the noblest thing that ever -I heard in my life; and now will your Worship write the order for the -three ass-colts?' - -'With pleasure,' answered Don Quixote, and he did as he was desired. - -'And now,' said Sancho, 'let me saddle Rozinante and be off. For I -intend to start without waiting to see those mad pranks your Worship is -going to play. There is one thing I am afraid of, though, and that is, -that on my return I shall not be able to find the place where I leave -you, it is so wild and difficult.' - -'Take the marks well, and when thou shouldst return I will mount to the -tops of the highest rocks. Also it will be well to cut down some boughs -and strew them after you as you go, that they may serve as marks to -find your way back, like the clue in Theseus' labyrinth.' - -Sancho did this, and, not heeding his Master's request to stay and see -him go through some mad tricks in order that he might describe them to -Dulcinea, he mounted Rozinante and rode away. - -He had not got more than a hundred paces when he returned and said: -'Sir, what you said was true, and it would be better for my conscience -if I saw the follies you are about to do before I describe them to your -Lady.' - -'Did I not tell thee so?' said Don Quixote; 'wait but a minute.' - -Then stripping himself in all haste of most of his clothes, Don Quixote -began cutting capers and turning somersaults in his shirt tails, until -even Sancho was satisfied that he might truthfully tell the Lady -Dulcinea that her lover was mad, and so, turning away, he started in -good earnest upon his journey. - - - - - [Illustration: THE CURATE & THE BARBER IN DISGUISE] - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - Of Sancho's Journey to the Lady Dulcinea - - -Don Quixote, left to himself, climbed to the top of a high mountain, -and spent his days making poems about the beautiful Dulcinea, which he -recited to the rocks and trees around him. In this, and in calling upon -the nymphs of the streams, and the satyrs of the woods, to hear his -cries, did he pass his time while Sancho was away. - -As for his Squire, turning out on the highway, he took the road which -led to Toboso, and arrived the next day at the Inn where he had been -tossed in a blanket. He no sooner saw it than he imagined that he was -once again flying through the air, and he half made up his mind that he -would not enter the Inn, although it was now dinner-hour and he felt -a marvellous longing to taste some cooked meat again, as he had eaten -nothing but cold fare for a good many days. - -This longing made him draw near to the Inn, remaining still in some -doubt as to whether he should enter it or not. - -As he stood musing, there came out of the Inn two persons who -recognised him at once, and the one said to the other: 'Tell me, Sir -Curate, is not that horseman riding there Sancho Panza, who departed -with Don Quixote to be his Squire?' - -'It is,' said the Curate, 'and that is Don Quixote's horse.' - -They knew him well enough, for they were Don Quixote's friends, the -Curate and the Barber, who not so long ago had helped to burn his books -and wall up his library; so, wanting to learn news of Don Quixote, they -went up to him and said: 'Friend Sancho Panza, where have you left your -Master?' - -Sancho Panza knew them instantly, but wanted to conceal the place and -manner in which the Knight remained, and answered that his Master was -kept in a certain place by affairs of the greatest importance of which -he must say nothing. - -'That will not do, friend Sancho,' said the Barber. 'If thou dost not -tell us where he is, we shall believe that thou hast robbed and slain -him, seeing that thou art riding his horse. Verily thou must find us -the owner of the steed, or it will be the worse for thee.' - -'Your threats do not trouble me, for I am not one who would rob or -murder anybody, and, for my Master, he is enjoying himself doing -penance in the Brown Mountains, where I have just left him.' - -Then Sancho told them from beginning to end how his Master was carrying -out his penance, and of the mad pranks he intended to perform, and how -he, Sancho, was bearing a letter to the Lady Dulcinea of Toboso, who -was none other than the daughter of Lorenzo Corchuelo, with whom the -Knight was head and ears in love. - -Both of them were amazed at what they heard, although they knew -something of Don Quixote's madness already. They asked Sancho to show -them the letter he was carrying to the Lady Dulcinea. Sancho told them -it was written in the pocket-book, and that he was ordered to get it -copied out at the first village he came to. - -The Curate told him that if he would show it to them, he would make a -fair copy of it for him. Then Sancho thrust his hand into his bosom -to search for the little book, but he could not find it, nor would he -have found it if he had hunted until Doomsday, for he had left it with -Don Quixote, who had quite forgotten to give it to him, nor had he -remembered to ask for it when he came away. When Sancho discovered that -the book was lost, his face grew as pale as death, and feeling all over -his body he saw clearly that it was not to be found. Without more ado -he laid hold of his beard, and with both his fists plucked out half his -hair and gave himself half a dozen blows about his face and nose, so -that he was soon bathed in his own blood. - -Seeing this, the Curate and the Barber asked him what was the matter, -that he should treat himself so ill. - -'What is the matter?' cried poor Sancho. 'Why, I have let slip through -my fingers three of the finest ass-colts you ever saw.' - -'How so?' asked the Barber. - -'Why, I have lost the pocket-book,' replied Sancho, 'which had in it -not only the letter for Dulcinea, but also a note of hand signed by my -Master addressed to his Niece, ordering her to give me three ass-colts -of the four or five that were left at his house.' So saying, he told -them the story of his lost Dapple. - -The Curate comforted him by telling him that as soon as they had found -his Master they would get him to write out the paper again in proper -form. With this Sancho took courage, and said if that could be done all -would be right, for he cared not much for the loss of Dulcinea's letter -as he knew it by heart. - -'Say it then, Sancho,' said the Barber, 'and we will write it out.' - -Then Sancho stood still and began to scratch his head and try to call -the letter to memory. He stood first on one leg and then on the other, -and looked first to heaven and then to earth, while he gnawed off half -his nails, and at the end of a long pause said: 'I doubt if I can -remember all, but it began, "High and unsavoury Lady."' - -'I warrant you,' interrupted the Barber, 'it was not "unsavoury" but -"sovereign Lady."' - -'So it was,' cried Sancho; 'and then there was something about the -wounded one sending health and sickness and what not to the ungrateful -fair, and so it scrambled along until it ended in "Yours till death, -the Knight of the Rueful Countenance."' - -They were both much amused at Sancho's good memory, and praised it -highly, asking him to repeat the letter once or twice more to them, so -that they might be able to write it down when they got a chance. Three -times did Sancho repeat it, and each time he made as many new mistakes. -Then he told them other things about his Master, but never a word about -being tossed in a blanket, although he refused, without giving any -reason, to enter the Inn, though he begged them to bring him something -nice and hot to eat, and some barley for Rozinante, when they had -finished their own repast. - -With that they went into the Inn, and after a while the Curate brought -him some meat, which Sancho was very glad to see. - -Now whilst the Curate and the Barber were in the Inn they discussed -together the best means of bringing Don Quixote back to his home, and -the Curate hit upon a plan which fitted in well with Don Quixote's -humour, and seemed likely to be successful. This plan was, as he -told the Barber, to dress himself like a wandering damsel, while the -Barber took the part of her Squire, and in this disguise they were to -go to where Don Quixote was undergoing his penance, and the Curate, -pretending that he was an afflicted and sorely distressed damsel, was -to demand of him a boon, which as a valiant Knight Errant he could not -refuse. - -The service which the damsel was to ask was that Don Quixote would -follow her where she should lead him, to right a wrong which some -wicked Knight had done her. Besides this, she was to pray him not to -command her to unveil herself or inquire as to her condition, until he -had done her right against the wicked Knight. And thus they hoped to -lead Don Quixote back to his own village, and afterwards to cure him of -his mad ideas. - -The Curate's notion pleased the Barber well, and they resolved to carry -it out. They borrowed of the Innkeeper's wife a gown and a head-dress, -leaving with her in exchange the Curate's new cassock. The Barber made -for himself a great beard of a red ox's tail in which the Innkeeper -used to hang his horse-comb. - -The Innkeeper's wife asked them what they wanted these things for, and -the Curate told her shortly all about Don Quixote's madness, and how -this disguise was necessary to bring him away from the mountains where -he had taken up his abode. - -The Innkeeper and his wife then remembered all about their strange -guest, and told the Barber and the Curate all about him and his Balsam, -and how Sancho had fared with the blanket. Then the Innkeeper's wife -dressed up the Curate so cleverly that it could not have been better -done. She attired him in a stuff gown with bands of black velvet -several inches broad, and a bodice and sleeves of green velvet trimmed -with white satin, both of which might have been made in the days of -the Flood. The Curate would not consent to wear a head-dress like a -woman's, but put on a white quilted linen nightcap, which he carried to -sleep in. Then with two strips of black stuff he made himself a mask -and fixed it on, and this covered his face and beard very neatly. He -then put on his large hat, and, wrapping himself in his cloak, seated -himself like a woman sideways on his mule, whilst the Barber mounted -his, with a beard reaching down to his girdle, made, as was said, from -a red ox's tail. - -They now took their leave, and all at the Inn wished them a good -success; but they had not gone very far when the Curate began to dread -that he was not doing right in dressing up as a woman and gadding about -in such a costume, even on so good an errand. He therefore proposed to -the Barber that he should be the distressed damsel, and he, the Curate, -would take the part of the Squire and teach him what to say and how to -behave. Sancho now came up to them, and, seeing them in their strange -dresses, could not contain his laughter. - -The Curate soon threw off his disguise, and the Barber did the same, -and both resolved not to dress up any more until they should come -nearer to Don Quixote, when the Barber should be the distressed damsel -and the Curate should be the Squire. - -Then they pursued their journey towards the Brown Mountains, guided by -Sancho, to whom they explained that it was necessary that his Master -should be led away from his penance, if he was ever to become an -Emperor and be in a position to give Sancho his desired Island. - - - - - [Illustration: THE STORY OF CARDENIO CONTINUED] - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - The Story of Cardenio continued - - -The next day they arrived at the place where Sancho had left the boughs -strewn along his path, and there he told them they were near to Don -Quixote, and that they had better get dressed. For they had told Sancho -part of their plan to take away his Master from this wretched penance -he was performing, and warned him not to tell the Knight who they were. -They also said that if Don Quixote asked, as they were sure he would, -whether he had delivered his letter to Dulcinea, he was to say that he -had done so; but as his Lady could not read, she had sent a message -that he was to return to her. Sancho listened to all this talk, and -said he would remember everything, for he was anxious that his Master -should give up penances and go forth again in search of Islands. He -also suggested that it were best he should go on in advance, as perhaps -the message from Dulcinea would of itself be enough to bring Don -Quixote away from the mountains. - -With that, Sancho went off into the mountain gorges, leaving the other -two behind by a stream overhung with pleasant trees and rocks. - -It was one of the hottest days of August, when in those parts the heat -is very great, and it was about three in the afternoon when Sancho left -them. The two were resting in the shade at their ease when they heard -the sound of a voice, not accompanied by any instrument, but singing -very sweetly and melodiously. The song surprised them not a little, for -this did not seem the place in which to find so good a singer. - -The singer finished his song, and the Barber and Curate, in wonder and -delight, listened for more. But as silence continued, they agreed to go -in search of this strange musician. As they were moving away he again -burst into song, and at the end of this, uttered a deep sigh, and the -music was changed into sobs and heart-rending moans. - -They had not gone far in their search when, in turning the corner of -a rock, they saw a man of the same figure that Sancho had described -to them when he had told them the story of Cardenio. The Curate at -once went up to him, and in a kindly manner begged him to quit this -wretched, wandering life, lest he should perish among the mountains. - -Cardenio, who was in his right mind at this time, and quite free from -his mad fit, replied: 'Whoever you may be, good Sirs, I see clearly -that, unworthy as I am, there are yet human beings who would show -me kindness by persuading me to live in some better place; and I -know myself how this terrible madness masters me, and many blame my -outrageous conduct rather than pity my misfortunes. But if you will -listen to my story, you will know why I have been driven here, what has -made me mad, and will understand how far I ought to be blamed, and how -much I may be pitied.' - -The Curate and the Barber, who wanted nothing better than to learn the -cause of his woe from his own lips, asked him to tell his story, and -promised they would do all they could for his consolation. - -Upon this Cardenio began his story, and told them all that he had told -Don Quixote, until he came to the book that Lucinda had borrowed about -Amadis of Gaul. There was no interruption from Don Quixote on this -occasion, so Cardenio went on to tell them how, when Lucinda returned -the book he found in it a letter full of the most tender wishes -beautifully expressed. - -'It was this letter,' continued Cardenio, 'that moved me to again ask -Lucinda for wife; it was this letter also which made Don Fernando -determine to ruin me before my happiness could be complete. I told Don -Fernando how matters stood with me, and how her father expected mine to -ask for Lucinda, and how I dared not speak to my father about it for -fear he should refuse his consent; not because he was ignorant of the -beauty and worth of Lucinda, but because he did not wish me to marry -so soon, or at least not until he had seen what the Duke Ricardo would -do for me. I told Don Fernando that I could not venture to speak to my -father about it, and he offered to speak on my behalf, and persuade my -father to ask for Lucinda's hand. - -'How could I imagine that with a gentleman like Fernando, my own -friend, such a thing as treachery was possible? But so it was! -And my friend, as I thought him, knowing that my presence was a -stumbling-block to his plans, asked me to go to his elder brother's -to borrow some money from him to pay for six horses which Fernando -had bought in the city. It never entered my thoughts to imagine his -villainy, and I went with a right good will to do his errand. That -night I spoke with Lucinda, and told her what had been arranged between -me and Fernando, telling her to hope that all would turn out well. As -I left her, tears filled her eyes, and we both seemed full of misery -and alarm, tokens, as I now think, of the dark fate that awaited me. -I reached the town to which I was sent, and delivered my letters to -Don Fernando's brother. I was well received, but there seemed no haste -to send me back again, and I was put off with many excuses about the -difficulty of raising the money that Don Fernando needed. In this way I -rested several days, much to my disgust, and it seemed to me impossible -to live apart from Lucinda for so long a time. - -'But on the fourth day after I had arrived, there came a man in -search of me with a letter, which, by the handwriting, I knew to be -Lucinda's. I opened it, not without fear, knowing that it must be some -serious matter which would lead her to write to me, seeing she did it -so rarely. I asked the bearer, before I read the letter, who had given -it to him, and how long it had been on the way. He answered that, -passing by chance at midday through a street in my native city, a very -beautiful lady had called to him from a window. "Poor thing," said he, -"her eyes were all bedewed with tears, and she spoke hurriedly, saying: -'Brother, if thou art a good man, as thou seemest to be, I pray thee -take this letter to the person named in the address, and in so doing -thou shalt do me a great service. And that thou mayest not want money -to do it, take what thou shalt find wrapped in that handkerchief."' - -'"So saying she threw out of the window a handkerchief in which was -wrapped a hundred _reals_, this ring of gold which I carry here, and -this letter which I have given you. I made signs to her that I would -do what she bade, and as I knew you very well I made up my mind not to -trust any other messenger, but to come myself, and so I have travelled -this journey, which you know is some eighteen leagues, in but sixteen -hours." - -'Whilst the kind messenger was telling his story, I remained trembling -with the letter in my hand, until at last I took courage and opened it, -when these words caught my eyes:— - -'"The promise Don Fernando made to you to persuade your father to speak -to mine, he has kept after his own fashion. Know, then, that he has -himself asked me for wife, and my father, carried away by his rank -and position, has agreed to his wishes, so that in two days we are to -be privately married. Imagine how I feel, and consider if you should -not come at once. Let me hope that this reaches your hand ere mine be -joined to his who keeps his promised faith so ill." - -'Such were the words of her letter, and they caused me at once to set -out on my journey without waiting for the despatch of Don Fernando's -business, for now I knew that it was not a matter of buying horses, -but the pursuit of his own wretched pleasure, that had led to my being -sent to his brother. The rage which I felt for Don Fernando, joined -to the fear I had of losing the jewel I had won by so many years of -patient love, seemed to lend me wings, and I arrived at my native city -as swiftly as though I had flown, just in time to see and speak with -Lucinda. I entered the city secretly, and left my mule at the house -of the honest man who had brought my letter, and went straight to the -little iron gate where I had so often met Lucinda. - -'There I found her, and as soon as she saw me she said in deep -distress: "Cardenio, I am attired in wedding garments, and in the hall -there waits for me the traitor, Don Fernando, and my covetous father, -with other witnesses, who shall see my death rather than my wedding. Be -not troubled, dear friend, for if I cannot persuade them to give me my -freedom, I can at least end my life with this dagger." - -'I answered her in great distress, saying: "Sweet lady, if thou -carriest a dagger, I also carry a sword to defend thy life, or to kill -myself, should fortune be against us." - -'I believe she did not hear all I said, for she was hastily called -away, and I aroused myself from my grief, as best I could, and went -into the house, for I knew well all the entrances and exits. Then, -without being seen, I managed to place myself in a hollow formed by the -window of the great hall, which was covered by two pieces of tapestry -drawn together, whence I could see all that went on in the hall without -any one seeing me. - -'The bridegroom entered the hall, wearing his ordinary dress. His -groomsman was a first cousin of Lucinda's, and no one else was in the -room but the servants of the house. In a little while Lucinda came out -of her dressing-room with her mother and two of her maids. My anxiety -gave me no time to note what she wore. I was only able to mark the -colours, which were crimson and white; and I remember the glimmer with -which the jewels and precious stones shone in her head-dress. But all -this was as nothing to the singular beauty of her fair golden hair. - -'When they were all stood in the hall, the Priest of the parish -entered, and, taking each by the hand, asked: "Will you, Lady Lucinda, -take the Lord Don Fernando for your lawful husband?" I thrust my -head and neck out of the tapestry to hear what Lucinda answered. The -Priest stood waiting for a long time before she gave it, and then, -when I expected, nay, almost hoped, that she would take out the dagger -to stab herself, or unloose her tongue to speak the truth, or make -some confession of her love for me, I heard her say in a faint and -languishing voice, "I will." - -'Then Don Fernando said the same, and, giving her the ring, the knot -was tied. But when the Bridegroom approached to embrace her, she put -her hand to her heart and fell fainting in her mother's arms. - -'It remains only for me to tell in what a state I was, when in that -"Yes!" I saw all my hopes at an end. I burned with rage and jealousy. -All the house was in a tumult when Lucinda fainted, and, her mother -unclasping her dress to give her air, found in her bosom a paper, which -Fernando seized and went aside to read by the light of a torch. Whilst -he read it he fell into a chair and covered his face with his hands in -melancholy discontent. - -'Seeing every one was in confusion I ventured forth, not caring where I -went, not having even a desire to take vengeance on my enemies. I left -the house, and came to where I had left my mule, which I caused to be -saddled. Then without a word of farewell to any one I rode out of the -city, and never turned my head to look back at it again. - -'All night I travelled, and about dawn I came to one of the entrances -to these mountains, through which I wandered three days at random. I -then left my mule, and such things as I had, and took to living in -these wilds. My most ordinary dwelling is in the hollow of a cork-tree, -which is large enough to shelter this wretched body. The goatherds who -live among these mountains give me food out of charity. They tell me, -when they meet me in my wits, that at other times I rush out at them -and seize with violence the food they would offer me in kindness. - -'I know that I do a thousand mad things, but without Lucinda I shall -never recover my reason, and I feel certain that my misery can only be -ended by death.' - - - - - [Illustration: THE DISCOVERY OF DOROTHEA] - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - The Story of Dorothea, who loved Don - Fernando - - -As soon as Cardenio had finished his melancholy story, the Curate was -about to offer him some consolation, when he was stopped by hearing a -mournful voice calling out: 'Oh that I could find an end to this life -of misery! Alas, how much more agreeable to me is the company of these -rocks and thickets than the society of faithless man! Would that I had -any one to advise me in difficulty, to comfort me in distress, or to -avenge my wrongs!' - -This was overheard by the Curate and all who were with him, and -thinking that the person who spoke must be hard by, they went to -search, and had not gone twenty paces when they saw behind a large rock -a boy sitting under an ash-tree. He wore a peasant's dress, but as he -was bending down to wash his feet in the brook, his head was turned -from them. They approached softly and without speaking, while his whole -attention was employed in bathing his legs in the stream. They wondered -at the whiteness and beauty of his feet, that did not seem formed to -tread the furrows, or follow the cattle or the plough, as his dress -seemed to suggest. The Curate, who was ahead of the rest, made signs -to them to crouch down, or hide themselves behind a rock. This done, -they all gazed at the beautiful youth, who was clad in a grey jacket, -and wore breeches and hose of the same cloth, with a grey hunting-cap -on his head. Having washed his delicate feet, he wiped them with a -handkerchief which he took out of his cap, and in doing so he raised -his head, showing to those who were looking at him a face of such -exquisite beauty that Cardenio murmured: 'Since this is not Lucinda, it -can be no earthly but some celestial being.' - -The youth took off his cap, and, shaking his head, a wealth of hair, -that Apollo might have envied, fell down upon his shoulders, and -discovered to them all that the peasant was not only a woman, but -one of the most delicate and handsome women they had ever seen. Even -Cardenio had to admit to himself that only Lucinda could rival her in -beauty. Her golden locks fell down in such length and quantity that -they not only covered her shoulders, but concealed everything except -her feet, and the bystanders more than ever desired to know who this -mysterious beauty might be. Some one advanced, and at the noise the -beauteous phantasy raised her head, and thrust aside her locks with -both hands, to see what it was that had startled her. No sooner did she -perceive them than she started up, and, without staying to put on her -shoes or tie up her hair, seized her bundle, and took to flight full -of alarm, but she had not run six yards when her delicate feet, unable -to bear the roughness of the stones, failed her, and she fell to the -ground. - -They all ran to her assistance, and the Curate, who was first, said: -'Stay, Madam, whosoever you are; those you see here have no desire to -harm you, and there is therefore no necessity whatever for flight.' - -To this she made no reply, being ashamed and confused, but the Curate, -taking her hand, continued in a kindly manner: 'Madam, it can be no -slight cause that has hidden your beauty in such an unworthy disguise, -and brought you to this lonely place where we have found you. Let us at -least offer you our advice and counsel in your distress, for no sorrow -can be so great that kind words may not be of service. Therefore, -Madam, tell us something of your good or evil fortune, that we may help -you in your troubles as best we can.' - -At first, while the Curate spoke, the disguised damsel stood rapt in -attention, and gaped and gazed at them all as if she were some stupid -villager, who did not understand what was said; but finding that the -Curate understood something of her secret, she sighed deeply, and -said: 'Since these mountains cannot conceal me, and my poor hair -betrays my secret, it would be vain for me to pretend things which you -could not be expected to believe. Therefore I thank you all, gentlemen, -for your kindness and courtesy, and I will tell you something of my -misfortunes, not to win your pity, but that you may know why it is I -wander here alone and in this strange disguise.' - -All this was said in such a sweet voice, and in so sensible a manner, -that they again assured her of their wish to serve her, and begged that -she would tell them her story. - -To this she replied by putting on her shoes and binding up her hair, -and seating herself upon a rock in the midst of her three hearers. -Then, brushing away a few tears from her eyes, she began in a clear -voice the story of her life. - -'In the Province of Andalusia there is a certain town from which a -great Duke takes his name, which makes him one of our Grandees, as they -are called in Spain. He has two sons. The elder is heir to his estates, -the younger is heir to I know not what, unless it be his father's evil -qualities. To this nobleman my parents are vassals, of humble and low -degree, but still so rich that if nature had gifted them with birth -equal to their wealth, I should have been nobly born, nor should I -now have suffered these strange misfortunes. They are but farmers and -plain people, and what they mostly prized was their daughter, whom they -thought to be the best treasure they had. As they had no other child, -they were almost too affectionate and indulgent, and I was their spoilt -child. And as I was the mistress of their affection, so also was I -mistress of all their goods. I kept the reckoning of their oil-mills, -their wine-presses, their cattle and sheep, their beehives—in a word, -of all that a rich farmer like my father could possess. I engaged and -dismissed the servants, and was the stewardess of the estate. The spare -hours that were left from the management of the farm I spent with the -needle, the lace cushion, and the distaff, or else I would read some -good book or practise upon my harp. - -'This was the life that I led in my father's house. And though I seldom -went abroad except to church, yet it seems I had attracted the eyes of -the Duke's younger son, Don Fernando, for so he was called.' - -No sooner did she mention the name of Don Fernando than Cardenio's face -changed colour, and the Curate and Barber noticing it, feared that -he would burst out into one of his mad fits. But he did nothing but -tremble and remain silent, and the girl continued her story. - -'No sooner, then, had Don Fernando seen me than he was smitten with -love for me, and from that moment I had no peace. I could not sleep for -his serenades. I had numerous letters from him, full of declarations -of love, and at last at his earnest entreaty we had many meetings. -But though he talked much of love, yet I knew that his father would -not allow him to marry the daughter of one of his own vassals, and -my parents both assured me that the Duke would never consent to our -marriage. - -'One evening Don Fernando gave me a beautiful ring, and promised that -he would always be true to me, and from that moment I felt that I was -betrothed to him, and that he really intended, in spite of the Duke's -opposition, to make me his wife. For some days I lived in the greatest -joy, and Don Fernando came constantly to see me, but after a while his -visits grew less frequent, and at last ceased altogether, and I heard -that he had gone on a visit to another city. - -'I waited in hopes of receiving a letter from him, but none came. Ah, -how sad and bitter those days and hours were to me, when I first began -to doubt and even to disbelieve in my lover's faith! I had to keep -watch on my tears, and wear a happy face for fear my parents should -find out the reason of my unhappiness. All this time of doubt, however, -came to an end at an instant. For at last it was announced in the town -that Don Fernando had married, in the city where he was visiting, a -damsel of exceeding beauty and of very noble birth called Lucinda, and -there were many strange tales told of their wedding.' - -Cardenio, hearing the name of Lucinda, did nothing but shrug his -shoulders, bow his head, and shed bitter tears. But yet, for all that, -Dorothea, for such was the maiden's name, did not interrupt the thread -of her story, but continued. - -'When this doleful news reached my ears, I was inflamed with rage -and fury. I ordered one of my father's shepherds to attend me, and -without saying a word to my parents, I packed up some dresses and some -money and jewels, and set off on foot for the city where Don Fernando -had gone, that I might get from him at least some explanation of his -wickedness. In two days and a half I arrived at my journey's end, and -the first person I asked told me the whole story of Don Fernando's -wedding. He told me that at the time of the wedding, after Lucinda had -uttered her consent to be Fernando's wife, she had fainted, and there -fell from her bosom a letter written in her own hand, in which she -said that she could not be the wife of Don Fernando, because she was -betrothed to Cardenio, a gentleman of that city. The letter went on to -say that she intended to kill herself at the end of the ceremony, and -upon her was found a dagger, which seemed to bear out what she said. -Don Fernando seeing this, and thinking that Lucinda had mocked him, -would have stabbed her with the dagger had her parents not prevented -him. After this, I was told, Don Fernando fled, and I learned that this -Cardenio had been present at the wedding, and, hearing her words, had -vanished from the city in despair, leaving a letter behind, declaring -the wrongs Lucinda had done to him. The whole city were talking of -these terrible things, and they talked the more when it was known that -Lucinda was missing from her father's house, and that her parents -had almost lost their reason in their distress. When I heard all -these things I made up my mind I would find Don Fernando, married or -unmarried. But before I left the city on my search, I was told there -was a proclamation made by the public crier, offering a large reward -for any one who should bring me back to my parents. Fearing that this -might tempt the shepherd to betray my whereabouts, I made my escape -from the city, and in this disguise came to the Brown Mountains, where -I have lived for some months with an old Goatherd, and I help him to -tend his goats. Here I have managed to pass as a peasant lad until -my hair betrayed me to you gentlemen as what I am, a distressed and -unfortunate maiden. This is indeed the true story of my tragedy, for -which consolation is in vain, and relief, I fear me, impossible.' - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - Of the pleasant Plan they carried out to persuade - Don Quixote not to continue his Penance - - -When the unfortunate Dorothea had finished her story, she remained -silent, her face flushed with sorrow; and as the Priest was about to -comfort her, Cardenio took her by the hand and said: 'Lady, thou art -the beautiful Dorothea, daughter unto rich Cleonardo.' - -Dorothea was amazed when she heard her father's name spoken by a -person of such wretched appearance as Cardenio, and answered: 'Who art -thou, friend, that knowest so well my father's name? For, unless I am -mistaken, I did not once name him throughout all my story.' - -'I am,' said Cardenio, 'the unlucky one to whom Lucinda was betrothed; -and I, too, had thought that I was without hope of comfort. But now -I hear that Lucinda will not marry Fernando because she is mine, and -Fernando cannot marry Lucinda because he is yours, it seems to me that -there is yet some consolation for both of us. And I vow, on the faith -of a gentleman, not to forsake you until I see you in the possession of -Don Fernando.' - - [Illustration: THE MEETING OF DOROTHEA & DON QUIXOTE] - -The Curate now told them both the nature of his errand, and begged that -they would join him in his travels, and stay as long as they pleased at -his village. By this time they heard the voice of Sancho Panza, who, -not finding them where he had left them, was calling out as loudly as -he might. - -They went to meet him, and asked for Don Quixote. Sancho told them that -he had found him almost naked to his shirt, lean and yellow, half dead -with hunger, and sighing for the Lady Dulcinea; and although he had -told him that she commanded him to journey to Toboso, yet he declared -that he had made up his mind not to appear before her until he had done -feats worthy of her great beauty. - -The Curate now returned and told Dorothea of their plan, and she at -once offered to act the part of the distressed damsel, for she had a -lady's dress in the bundle which she carried. - -'The sooner, then, we set about our work the better,' said the Barber. - -Dorothea retired to put on her robe of a fine rich woollen cloth, a -short mantle of another green stuff, and a collar and many rich jewels -which she took from a little casket. With these things she adorned -herself so gorgeously that she appeared to be a Princess at least. When -Sancho saw her he was amazed, and asked the Curate with great eagerness -to tell him who the lady was, and what she was doing in these out of -the way places. - -'This beautiful lady, brother Sancho,' replied the Curate, 'is the -heiress in direct line of the mighty Kingdom of Micomicon, who has come -in search of thy Master, to ask of him a boon, which is to avenge her -of a wrong done by a wicked Giant. And, owing to the great fame of thy -Master which has spread through all lands, this beautiful Princess has -come to find him out.' - -'A happy searcher and a happy finding,' cried Sancho; 'my Master shall -soon slay the great lubber of a Giant, unless he turn out to be a -phantom, for he has no power over those things. And when this is done, -my Lord shall marry the Princess, whose name, by the bye, you have not -yet told me, and by this means shall he become an Emperor, and have -Islands to give away.' - -'Her name,' replied the Curate, 'is the Princess Micomicona, and as to -your Master's marriage, I will do what I can to help.' - -Sancho was quite satisfied with these answers, and, when Dorothea had -mounted the mule, he guided them towards the spot where Don Quixote was -to be found. And as they went along, the Barber told Sancho he must in -no way pretend to know who he was, for if he did, Don Quixote would -never leave the mountains and would never become an Emperor. The Curate -and Cardenio remained behind, promising to join them again on the first -opportunity. - -Having travelled about three-quarters of a league, they found Don -Quixote clothed, though still unarmed, sitting amidst the rocks. No -sooner did Sancho tell Dorothea that this was his Master than she -whipped up her palfrey, closely followed by the well-bearded Barber, -who jumped from his mule, and ran to help his lady alight. - -Quickly dismounting, she threw herself on her knees before Don Quixote, -and refusing his efforts to raise her, spoke as follows: 'Never will I -rise from this position, most valiant and invincible Knight, until you -grant me a boon which will not only add to your honour and renown, but -also assist the most injured and unfortunate damsel that ever the sun -beheld. And if the valour of your mighty arm be equal to what I have -heard of your immortal fame, you can indeed render aid to a miserable -being who comes from a far-distant land to seek your help.' - -'Beauteous lady,' replied Don Quixote, 'I will not answer one word, nor -hear a jot of your affairs, until you rise from the ground.' - -'I will not rise, my Lord,' answered the unfortunate maiden, 'until I -have obtained from you the boon I beg.' - -'Dear Lady,' replied Don Quixote, 'it is granted, so that it be not -anything that touches my duty to my King, my country, or the chosen -Queen of my heart.' - -'Your kindness shall in no way affect them,' replied Dorothea. - -At this moment Sancho came up and whispered softly in his Master's ear: -'Sir, you may very well grant the request she asketh, for it is a mere -nothing; it is only to kill a monstrous Giant, and she that demands it -is the Princess Micomicona, Queen of the great Kingdom of Micomicon in -Ethiopia.' - -'Let her be what she will,' said Don Quixote, 'I will do my duty -towards her.' And then turning to the damsel, he said: 'Rise, most -beautiful Lady, for I grant you any boon you shall please to ask of me.' - -'Why, then,' said Dorothea, 'what I ask of you is, that you will at -once come away with me to the place where I shall guide you, and that -you promise me not to undertake any new adventure, until you have -revenged me on a traitor who has driven me out of my Kingdom.' - -'I grant your request,' said Don Quixote, 'and therefore, Lady, you may -cast away from this day forward all the melancholy that troubles you, -for this mighty arm shall restore you to your Kingdom.' - -The distressed damsel strove with much ado to kiss his hand, but Don -Quixote, who was a most courteous Knight, would not permit it, and, -making her arise, treated her with the greatest respect. - -He now commanded Sancho to saddle Rozinante and help him to arm -himself, and this done the Knight was ready to depart. The Barber, who -had been kneeling all the while, had great difficulty to stop laughing -aloud at all this, and his beard was in danger of falling off. He -was glad to get up and help his Lady to mount the mule, and when Don -Quixote was mounted, and the Barber himself had got upon his beast, -they were ready to start. As for Sancho, who trudged along on foot, -he could not help grieving for the loss of his Dapple; but he bore it -all with patience, for now he saw his Master on the way to marry a -Princess, and so become at least King of Micomicon, though it grieved -him to think that that country was peopled by blackamoors, and that -when he became a ruler his vassals would all be black. - -While this was going on, the Curate and Cardenio had not been idle. -For the Curate was a cunning plotter, and had hit on a bright idea. He -took from his pocket a pair of scissors, and cut off Cardenio's rugged -beard and trimmed his hair very cleverly. And when he had thrown his -riding-cloak over Cardenio's shoulders, he was so unlike what he was -before, that he would not have known himself in a looking-glass. This -finished, they went out to meet Don Quixote and the others. - -When they came towards them, the Curate looked earnestly at the Knight -for some time, and then ran towards him with open arms, saying: 'In -a good hour is this meeting with my worthy countryman, the mirror of -Knighthood, Don Quixote of the Mancha, the Champion of the distressed.' - -Don Quixote did not at first know him, but when he remembered the -Curate he wanted to alight, saying: 'It is not seemly, reverend Sir, -that I should ride whilst you travel on foot.' - -But the Curate would not allow him to dismount and give him his horse, -but suggested that he might ride behind the lady's Squire on his mule. - -'I did not think of that, good Master Curate,' said Don Quixote; 'but I -know my Lady the Princess will for my sake order her Squire to lend you -the use of his saddle.' - -'That I will,' said the Princess; 'and I know my Squire is the last man -to grudge a share of his beast to this reverend Father.' - -'That is most certain,' said the Barber, and got off his steed at once. - -The Curate now mounted, but the misfortune was that when the Barber -tried to get up behind, the mule, which was a hired one, lifted up her -legs and kicked out with such fury that she knocked Mr. Nicholas to the -ground, and, as he rolled over, his beard fell off and lay upon the -earth. Don Quixote, seeing that huge mass of beard torn from the jaw -without blood, and lying at a distance from the Squire's face, said: -'This, I vow, is one of the greatest miracles I ever saw in my life. -The beard is taken off as clean by the heel of the mule as if it had -been done by the hand of a barber.' - -The Curate, seeing the risk they ran of their plan being found out, -came to where Master Nicholas was lying, and with one jerk clapped it -on again, muttering as he did so some Latin words, which he said were a -charm for fixing on beards. - -By this means, to Don Quixote's amazement, the Squire was cured again, -and he asked the Curate to tell him this charm, which, he said, since -it could heal a wound of this kind, must be good for even more -dangerous injuries. - -The Curate agreed to tell him the secret some other day, and, having -mounted the mule, the party rode slowly away towards the Inn. - - - - - [Illustration: SANCHO PANZA RECOVERS HIS DAPPLE] - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - Of the Journey to the Inn - - -The Curate rode first on the mule, and with him rode Don Quixote and -the Princess. The others, Cardenio, the Barber, and Sancho Panza, -followed on foot. - -And as they rode, Don Quixote said to the damsel: 'Madam, let me -entreat your Highness to lead the way that most pleaseth you.' - -Before she could answer, the Curate said: 'Towards what Kingdoms would -you travel? Are you for your native land of Micomicon?' - -She, who knew very well what to answer, being no babe, replied: 'Yes, -Sir, my way lies towards that Kingdom.' - -'If it be so,' said the Curate, 'you must pass through the village -where I dwell, and from thence your Ladyship must take the road to -Carthagena, where you may embark. And, if you have a prosperous -journey, you may come within the space of nine years to the Lake Meona, -I mean Meolidas, which stands on this side of your Highness's Kingdom -some hundred days' journey or more.' - -'You are mistaken, good Sir,' said she, 'for it is not yet fully two -years since I left there, and, though I never had fair weather, I -have arrived in time to see what I so longed for, the presence of the -renowned Don Quixote of the Mancha, whose glory was known to me as soon -as my foot touched the shores of Spain.' - -'No more,' cried Don Quixote. 'I cannot abide to hear myself praised, -for I am a sworn enemy to flattery. And though I know what you speak is -but truth, yet it offends mine ears. And I can tell you this, at least, -that whether I have valour or not, I will use it in your service, -even to the loss of my life. But let me know, Master Curate, what has -brought you here?' - -'You must know, then,' replied the Curate, 'that Master Nicholas, the -Barber, and myself travelled towards Seville to recover certain sums of -money which a kinsman of mine in the Indies had sent me. And passing -yesterday through this way we were set upon by four robbers, who took -everything that we had. And it is said about here, that those who -robbed us were certain galley slaves, who they say were set at liberty, -almost on this very spot, by a man so valiant that in spite of the -guard he released them all. And doubtless he must be out of his wits, -or else he must be as great a knave as they, to loose the wolf among -the sheep, and rebel against his King by taking from the galleys their -lawful prey.' - -Sancho had told the Curate of the adventure with the galley slaves, and -the Curate spoke of it to see what Don Quixote would say. The Knight, -however, durst not confess his part in the adventure, but rode on, -changing colour at every word the Curate spoke. - -When the Curate had finished, Sancho burst out: 'By my father, Master -Curate, he that did that deed was my Master, and that not for want of -warning, for I told him beforehand that it was a sin to deliver them, -and that they were great rogues who had been sent to the galleys to -punish them for their crimes.' - -'You bottlehead!' replied Don Quixote. 'It is not the duty of Knights -Errant to examine whether the afflicted, enslaved, and oppressed whom -they meet by the way are in sorrow for their own default; they must -relieve them because they are needy and in distress, looking at their -sorrow and not at their crimes. And if any but the holy Master Curate -shall find fault with me on this account, I will tell him that he knows -nought of Knighthood, and that he lies in his throat, and this I will -make him know by the power of my sword.' - -Dorothea, who was discreet enough to see they were carrying the jest -too far, now said: 'Remember, Sir Knight, the boon you promised me, -never to engage in any other adventure, be it ever so urgent, until -you have seen me righted. And had Master Curate known that it was the -mighty arm of Don Quixote that freed the galley slaves, I feel sure he -would have bit his tongue through ere he spoke words which might cause -you anger.' - -'That I dare swear,' said the Curate. - -'Madam,' replied Don Quixote, 'I will hold my peace and keep my anger -to myself, and will ride on peaceably and quietly until I have done -the thing I promised. Tell me, therefore, without delay, what are your -troubles and on whom am I to take revenge.' - -To this Dorothea replied: 'Willingly will I do what you ask, so you -will give me your attention.' - -At this Cardenio and the Barber drew near to hear the witty Dorothea -tell her tale, and Sancho, who was as much deceived as his Master, was -the most eager of all to listen. - -She, after settling herself in her saddle, began with a lively air -to speak as follows: 'In the first place, I would have you know, -gentlemen, that my name is ——' Here she stopped a moment, for she had -forgotten what name the Curate had given her. - -He, seeing her trouble, said quickly: 'It is no wonder, great Lady, -that you hesitate to tell your misfortunes. Great sufferers often lose -their memory, so that they even forget their own names, as seems to -have happened to your Ladyship, who has forgotten that she is called -the Princess Micomicona, heiress of the great Kingdom of Micomicon.' - -'True,' said the damsel, 'but let me proceed. The King, my father, was -called Tinacrio the Sage, and was learned in the magic art. By this -he discovered that my mother, the Queen Xaramilla, would die before -him, and that I should soon afterwards be left an orphan. This did -not trouble him so much as the knowledge that a certain Giant, called -Pandafilando of the Sour Face, Lord of a great Island near our border, -when he should hear that I was an orphan, would pass over with a mighty -force into my Kingdom and take it from me. My father warned me that -when this came to pass I should not stay to defend myself, and so cause -the slaughter of my people, but should at once set out for Spain, where -I should meet with a Knight whose fame would then extend through all -that Kingdom. His name, he said, should be Don Quixote, and he would be -tall of stature, have a withered face, and on his right side, a little -under his left shoulder, he should have a tawny spot with certain hairs -like bristles.' - -On hearing this, Don Quixote said: 'Hold my horse, son Sancho, and help -me to strip, for I would know if I am the Knight of whom the sage King -spoke.' - -'There is no need,' said Sancho, 'for I know that your Worship has such -a mark near your backbone.' - -'It is enough,' said Dorothea, 'for among friends we must not be too -particular, and whether it is on your shoulder or your backbone is of -no importance. And, indeed, no sooner did I land in Osuna than I heard -of Don Quixote's fame, and felt sure that he was the man.' - -'But how did you land in Osuna, Madam,' asked Don Quixote, 'seeing that -it is not a sea town?' - -'Sir,' said the Curate, 'the Princess would say that she landed at -Malaga, and that Osuna was the first place wherein she heard tidings of -your Worship.' - -'That is so,' said Dorothea; 'and now nothing remains but to guide you -to Pandafilando of the Sour Face, that I may see you slay him, and once -again enter into my Kingdom. For all must succeed as the wise Tinacrio, -my father, has foretold, and if the Knight of the prophecy, when he -has killed the Giant, so desires, then it will be my lot to become his -wife, and he will at once possess both me and my Kingdom.' - -'What thinkest thou of this, friend Sancho? Did I not tell thee this -would come about? Here we have a Kingdom to command and a Queen to -marry.' - -When Sancho heard all this he jumped for joy, and running to Dorothea -stopped her mule, and asking her very humbly to give him her hand to -kiss, he kneeled down as a sign that he accepted her as his Queen and -Lady. - -All around could scarcely hide their laughter at the Knight's madness -and the Squire's simplicity, and when Dorothea promised Sancho to make -him a great lord, and Sancho gave her thanks, it roused their mirth -anew. - -'Madam,' continued Don Quixote, who appeared to be full of thought, 'I -repeat all I have said, and make my vow anew, and when I have cut off -the head of Pandafilando I will put you in peaceable possession of your -Kingdom, but since my memory and will are captive to another, it is not -possible for me to marry.' - -So disgusted was Sancho with what he heard that he cried out in a -great rage: 'Surely, Sir Don Quixote, your Worship is not in your right -senses. Is it possible your Worship can refuse to marry a Princess like -this? A poor chance have I of getting a Countship if your Worship goes -on like this, searching for mushrooms at the bottom of the sea. Is my -Lady Dulcinea more beautiful? She cannot hold a candle to her. Marry -her! Marry at once, and when you are King make me a Governor.' - -Don Quixote, who heard such evil things spoken of his Lady Dulcinea, -could not bear them any longer, and therefore, lifting up his lance, -without speaking a word to Sancho, gave him two blows that brought him -to the earth, and if Dorothea had not called to the Knight to spare -him, without doubt he would have taken his Squire's life. - -'Think you, miserable villain,' cried Don Quixote, 'that it is to be -all sinning on thy side and pardoning on mine? Say, scoffer with the -viper's tongue, who dost thou think hath gained this Kingdom and cut -off the head of this Giant and made thee Marquis—for all this I take -to be a thing as good as completed—unless it be the worth and valour -of Dulcinea using my arm as her instrument? She fights in my person, -and I live and breathe in her. From her I hold my life and being. O -villain, how ungrateful art thou that seest thyself raised from the -dust of the earth to be a nobleman, and speakest evil of her who gives -thee such honours!' - -Sancho was not too much hurt to hear what his Master said. He jumped -up nimbly and ran behind Dorothea's palfrey, and from there said to -his Master: 'Tell me, your Worship, if you are not going to marry this -great Princess, how this Kingdom will become yours, and how you can -do me any favours. Pray marry this Queen now we have her here. I say -nothing against Lady Dulcinea's beauty, for I have never seen her.' - -'How, thou wicked traitor, thou hast not seen her!' cried Don Quixote. -'Didst thou not but now bring me a message from her?' - -'I mean,' replied Sancho, 'not seen her for long enough to judge of her -beauty, though, from what I did see, she appeared very lovely.' - -'Ah!' said Don Quixote, 'then I do excuse thee, but have a care what -thou sayest, for, remember, the pitcher may go once too often to the -well.' - -'No more of this,' said Dorothea. 'Run, Sancho, kiss your Master's -hand, and ask his pardon. Henceforth speak no evil of the Lady -Dulcinea, and trust that fortune may find you an estate where you may -live like a Prince.' - -Sancho went up hanging his head and asked his Lord's hand, which he -gave him with a grave air, and, after he had kissed it, the Knight gave -him his blessing, and no more was said about it. - -While this was passing, they saw coming along the road on which they -were a man riding upon an Ass, and when he drew near he seemed to be a -gipsy. But Sancho Panza, whenever he met with any asses, followed them -with his eyes and his heart, and he had hardly caught sight of the man -when he knew him to be the escaped robber, Gines of Passamonte, and the -Ass to be none other than his beloved Dapple. - -Gines had disguised himself as a gipsy, but Sancho knew him, and called -out in a loud voice: 'Ah! thief Gines, give up my jewel, let go my -life, give up mine Ass, give up the comfort of my home. Fly, scoundrel! -Begone, thief! Give back what is none of thine.' - -He need not have used so many words, for Gines leaped off at the first -and raced away from them all as fast as his legs could carry him. - -Sancho then ran up to Dapple, and, embracing him, cried: 'How hast thou -been cared for, my darling and treasure, Dapple of mine eyes, my sweet -companion?' With this he stroked and kissed him as if he had been a -human being. But the Ass held his peace, and allowed Sancho to kiss and -cherish him without answering a word. - - - - - [Illustration: SANCHO'S STORY OF HIS VISIT TO THE LADY DULCINEA] - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - The Story Sancho Panza told his Master of his - Visit to the Lady Dulcinea - - -When the rest came up they all congratulated Sancho on finding his -ass, and Don Quixote promised that he would still give him the three -ass-colts, for which Sancho thanked him heartily. - -While the Knight and his Squire rode on ahead, the Curate said to -Cardenio: 'Is it not marvellous to see the strange way in which this -good gentleman believes all these inventions, and this only because -they wear the style and fashion of the follies he is so fond of -reading?' - -'It is so,' said Cardenio, 'and indeed, if he were a character in a -story-book no one would believe in him.' - -'There is another thing, too,' said the Curate, 'that apart from his -folly about Knighthood, no one would esteem him to be other than a man -of excellent judgment.' - -Don Quixote at the same time was saying to Sancho: 'Friend Sancho, let -us bury all injuries, and tell me when, how, and where didst thou find -Dulcinea. What was she doing? What saidst thou to her? What answer -made she? How did she look when she read my letter? Who copied it for -thee? Tell me all, without adding to it or lying, for I would know -everything.' - -'Master,' replied Sancho, 'if I must speak the truth, nobody copied out -the letter, for I carried no letter at all.' - -'Thou sayest true,' said Don Quixote, 'for I found the pocket-book, -wherein it was written, two days after thy departure, and I did expect -that thou wouldst return for it.' - -'I had done so,' said Sancho, 'if I had not carried it in my memory -when you read it to me, so that I could say it to a parish clerk, who -copied it out of my head, word for word, so exactly that he said that -in all the days of his life he had never read such a pretty letter.' - -'And hast thou it still by heart, Sancho?' asked Don Quixote. - -'No, Sir, for after I gave it, seeing that it was to be of no more -use, I let myself forget it. If I remember, it began, _Scrubby Queen, -Sovereign Lady_, and the ending—_yours till death, the Knight of the -Rueful Countenance_—but between these things I put in three hundred -_hearts_, and _loves_, and _dear eyes_.' - -'All this I like to hear, therefore say on,' said Don Quixote. 'Thou -didst arrive; and what was the Queen of Beauty doing then? I daresay -thou foundest her threading pearls or embroidering some curious device -with golden threads for this her captive Knight.' - -'No, that I did not,' said Sancho, 'but winnowing two bushels of wheat -in the yard of her house.' - -'Why, then,' said Don Quixote, 'thou mayest reckon that each grain of -wheat was a pearl, seeing they were touched by her hands. But tell me, -when thou didst deliver my letter, did she kiss it? Did she use any -ceremony worthy of such a letter? Or what did she?' - -'When I went to give it to her,' said Sancho, 'she was all in a bustle -with a good lot of wheat in her sieve, and said to me: "Lay down that -letter there on the sack, for I cannot read it until I have winnowed -all that is here."' - -'O discreet Lady!' said Don Quixote; 'she must have done that, so that -she might read and enjoy it at leisure. Go on, then, Sancho, and tell -all she said about me, and what thou saidst to her.' - -'She asked me nothing,' replied the Squire, 'but I told her the state -which I left you in for her sake, doing penance all naked from the -girdle up among these rocks like a brute beast, and I told her how you -slept on the ground and never combed your beard, but spent your time -weeping and cursing your fortune.' - -'There thou saidst ill,' said Don Quixote, 'for I do not curse my -fortune, but rather bless it, seeing that it hath made me worthy to -merit the love of so beautiful a lady as Dulcinea of Toboso. But tell -me, after she had sifted her corn and sent it to the mill, did she then -read my letter?' - -'The letter,' replied Sancho, 'she did never read, for she said she -could neither read nor write, and therefore she tore it into small -pieces, and would allow no one to read it lest the whole village might -know her secrets. Lastly, she told me that I was to say to your Worship -that she kissed your hands, and that she had a greater desire to see -you than to write to you. Therefore she begged, as you loved her, that -you should quit these bushes and brambles, and leave off these mad -pranks, and set out for Toboso, for she had a great longing to see -your Worship. She laughed a good deal when I told her they called your -Worship the Knight of the Rueful Countenance. I asked her whether the -beaten Biscayan came there. She said yes, and that he was a very good -fellow. I asked also after the galley slaves; but she told me that she -had seen none of them as yet.' - -'All goes well, then,' said Don Quixote; 'but tell me, what jewel did -she bestow on thee at thy departure for reward of the tidings thou -hadst brought? For it is a usual and ancient custom among Knights -Errant and their Ladies to give to their Squires, damsels, or dwarfs -who bring good tidings, some rich jewel as a reward for their welcome -news.' - -'It may well be,' replied Sancho; 'and I think it was a most excellent -custom, but I doubt if it exists nowadays, for it would seem to be the -manner of our age only to give a piece of bread and cheese; for this -was all that my Lady Dulcinea bestowed on me when I took my leave, and, -by the way, the cheese was made of sheep's milk.' - -'She is marvellous liberal,' said the Knight; 'and if she gave thee -not a jewel of gold, it was doubtless because she had none then about -her. But that will be put right some day. Knowest thou, Sancho, at what -I am astonished? It is at thy sudden return, for it seems to me thou -wast gone and hast come back again in the air, for thou hast been away -but a little more than three days, although Toboso is more than thirty -leagues from hence. Therefore I do believe that the wise Enchanter, -who takes care of my affairs and is my friend, must have helped thee -to travel without thy being aware of it. For there are sages that take -up a Knight Errant sleeping in his bed, and, without knowing how or -in what manner, he awakes the next day more than a thousand leagues -from the place where he fell asleep. For otherwise Knights Errant -could not help one another in perils as they do now. For it may be -that one is fighting in the mountains of Armenia with some dragon or -fierce serpent, and is at the point of death, and, just when he least -expects it, he sees on a cloud, or in a chariot of fire, some other -Knight, his friend, who a little before was in England, who helps him -and delivers him from danger. And all this is done by the craft and -wisdom of those sage Enchanters who take care of valorous Knights. -But, leaving all this apart, what dost thou think I should do about my -Lady's commands to go and see her?' - -'Tell me, good your Worship,' replied Sancho, 'do you intend to journey -to Toboso and lose so rich and noble a prize as this Princess? Peace! -take my advice and marry her in the first village that hath a parish -priest, or let the Curate do it, for he is here, and remember the old -saying, "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."' - -'Look you, Sancho,' said his Master, 'if you counsel me to marry, to -the end that I may be King when I have slain the Giant and be able to -give you an Island, know that I can do that without marrying, for I -will make it a condition that upon conquering this monster they shall -give me a portion of the Kingdom, although I marry not the Princess, -and this I will bestow upon thee.' - -'Let it be so, then,' said Sancho. 'And trouble not your mind, I pray -you, to go and see the Lady Dulcinea at this moment, but go away and -kill the Giant and let us finish off this job, for I believe it will -prove of great honour and greater profit.' - -'I believe, Sancho,' said Don Quixote, 'that thou art in the right, and -I will follow thy advice in going first with the Princess rather than -visiting Dulcinea.' - -At this moment Master Nicholas the Barber called out to them to stay -awhile, for they wished to halt and drink at a small spring hard by. -Don Quixote stopped, to Sancho's very great content, as he was already -tired of telling so many lies, and feared that his Master would entrap -him in his own words. For although he knew that Dulcinea was a peasant -lass of Toboso, yet he had never seen her in all his life. - - - - - [Illustration: ANDREW SALUTES DON QUIXOTE] - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - What happened during their further Journey - towards the Inn - - -They all dismounted at the spring, and by this time Cardenio had -dressed himself in the boy's clothes that Dorothea had worn, which, -though by no means good, were better than those he cast off. The Curate -had brought some scanty provisions from the Inn, and they sat down near -the spring to satisfy, as well as they could, the hunger they all felt. - -Whilst they took their ease, a young lad passed by, who looked very -earnestly at all those who sat round the spring, and after a moment ran -up to Don Quixote, and embracing his legs, burst into tears, crying: -'Ah, my Lord, do not you know me? Look well upon me. I am the boy -Andrew whom you unloosed from the oak-tree to which I was tied.' - -Don Quixote knew him at once, and, taking him by the hand, turned to -those who were present and said: 'That you may see how important it -is to have Knights Errant in the world to set right the wrongs and -injuries which are done by insolent and wicked men, you must know that -a few days ago, as I rode through a wood, I heard piteous screams and -cries as of some person in sore distress. I hastened instantly to the -place, and there I found tied to an oak this boy whom you see here, -and I am glad that he is here, because if I shall not say the truth, -he may check me. He was tied to an oak-tree, stark naked from the -waist upward, and a certain clown, whom I afterwards learned to be his -master, was beating him with a horse's bridle. As soon as I saw him I -asked the master the reason of his cruelty. The Farmer replied that he -was beating him because he was his servant, and that he had been guilty -of carelessness due rather to knavery than stupidity. At which the -lad said, "Sir, he beats me only because I ask him for my wages." The -Farmer answered with many excuses, which I heard but did not believe. I -made him at once untie the boy, and forced him to swear me an oath that -he would take him home with him and pay him every _real_ upon the nail. -Is not all this true, son Andrew? Answer, nor hesitate in anything. -Tell these gentlemen what passed, that they may learn how necessary it -is to have Knights Errant up and down the highways.' - -'All that your Worship says is very true,' replied the lad;' but the -end of the business was very contrary to what you imagine.' - -'How contrary?' asked Don Quixote. 'Did not the clown pay thee, then?' - -'He not only did not pay me,' answered the boy, 'but as soon as you -had passed out of the wood, and we were alone again, he tied me to -the same tree and gave me afresh so many blows that I had like to be -flayed alive. And at each blow he uttered some jest to make a mock of -your Lordship, and if I had not felt so much pain, I could have found -it in my heart to have laughed very merrily. In fact, he left me in -such a wretched plight that I have been in hospital ever since. And -you are at fault in all this, for if you had ridden on your way, and -not come meddling in other folk's affairs, perhaps my master would -have contented himself with giving me a dozen blows or so, and would -presently have let me loose and paid me my wages. But, because you -abused him so harshly, his anger was aroused, and as he could not -revenge himself on you, as soon as he was alone he let loose the storm -of his wrath upon me, in such a manner that I fear I shall never be a -man again as long as I live.' - -'The mischief was,' said Don Quixote, 'in my going away, for I should -not have departed until I had seen thee paid. For I might well have -known that no churl will keep his word if he finds that it does not -suit him to keep it. But yet, Andrew, thou dost remember how I swore -that if he paid thee not, I would return and seek him out, and find -him though he should hide himself in the belly of a whale.' - -'That is true,' replied Andrew, 'but it is all of no use.' - -'Thou shalt see whether it is of use or no presently,' said Don -Quixote, and so saying he got up hastily and commanded Sancho to bridle -Rozinante, who was feeding whilst they did eat. - -Dorothea asked him what it was he meant to do. He answered that he -meant to go in search of the Farmer and punish him for his bad conduct, -and make him pay Andrew to the last farthing, in spite of all the -churls in the world. To which she answered, entreating him to remember -that he could not deal with any other adventure, according to his -promise, until he had finished hers; and as he knew this better than -any one else, he must restrain his anger until he returned from her -Kingdom. - -'That is true,' answered Don Quixote; 'and Andrew must have patience -until my return, for I once more vow and promise anew never to rest -until he be satisfied and paid.' - -'I do not believe these vows,' said Andrew; 'I would rather just now -have as much money as would help me on my way to Seville than all the -revenge in the world. Give me something to eat, and let me go, and may -all Knights Errant be as erring to themselves as they have been with -me.' - -Sancho took out of his bag a piece of bread and cheese, and, giving it -to the lad, said: 'Take it, brother Andrew, for each of us has a share -in your misfortune.' - -'What share have you in it?' asked Andrew. - -'This piece of bread and cheese which I give thee,' said Sancho, 'for -no one knows whether I shall have need of it again or not. For you must -know, my friend, that we Squires to Knights Errant suffer great hunger -and ill-luck, and many things which are better felt than told.' - -Andrew laid hold of his bread and cheese, and, seeing that no one gave -him anything else, bowed his head and went on his way. And as he went -he turned to Don Quixote and said: 'I pray you, Sir Knight Errant, if -you meet me again, although you should see me being cut to pieces, do -not come to my aid, but leave me to my ill fate. For it cannot be so -great but that greater will result from your help, and may you and all -the Knights Errant that ever were born in the world keep your paths -away from mine.' - -Don Quixote started up to chastise him, but he set off running so fast -that no one tried to pursue him. The Knight was greatly ashamed at -Andrew's story, and the others had much ado not to laugh outright, and -so put him to utter confusion. - -When they had finished their dinner, they saddled and went to horse -once more, and travelled all that day and the next without any -adventure of note, until they arrived at the Inn, which was the dread -and terror of Sancho Panza, and though he would rather not have entered -it, yet he could not avoid doing so. The Innkeeper, the Hostess, -her daughter, and Maritornes, seeing Don Quixote and Sancho return, -went out to meet them with tokens of great love and joy. The Knight -returned their compliments with grave courtesy, and bade them prepare a -better bed than they gave him the last time. - -'Sir,' said the Hostess, 'if you would pay us better than the last -time, we would give you one fit for a Prince.' - -Don Quixote answered that he would, and they prepared a reasonable good -bed for him in the same room where he lay before. Then he went off to -bed at once, because he was tired and weary, both in body and mind. - -He had scarcely locked himself in, when the Hostess ran at the Barber, -seizing him by the beard, and cried: 'By my troth, but my tail shall no -longer be used for a beard, for the comb which used to be kept in the -tail gets tossed about the floor, and it is a shame.' - -But the Barber would not give it up for all her tugging, until the -Curate told him to let her have it, for there was no longer any need -of a disguise, as the Barber might now appear in his own shape, and -tell Don Quixote that after he had been robbed by the galley slaves he -had fled for refuge to that Inn. As for the Princess's Squire, if the -Knight should ask after him, they could say he had been sent on before -to her Kingdom, to announce to her subjects that she was returning, -bringing with her one who should give them all their freedom. On this -the Barber gave up the tail to the landlady, together with the other -things they had borrowed. - -All the people of the Inn were struck with Dorothea's beauty and the -comeliness of the shepherd Cardenio. The Curate made them get ready a -dinner of the best the Inn could produce, and the Innkeeper, in hope -of better payment, prepared them very speedily a good dinner. All this -was done whilst Don Quixote slept, and they agreed not to wake him, for -they thought it would do him more good to sleep than to eat. - - - - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE'S EXTRAORDINARY BATTLE] - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - Of the extraordinary Battle which Don Quixote - waged with what he took to be a Giant - - -Don Quixote was still asleep when the dinner was served, and during -dinner—the Innkeeper, his wife, his daughter, and Maritornes being -there, as well as all the travellers—they talked of Don Quixote's -strange craze, and of the state in which they had found him. The -Hostess told them of what had happened between him and the Carrier, and -glancing round to see if Sancho were present, and not seeing him, she -told them the story of his being tossed in the blanket, to the no small -entertainment of all the company. - -The Curate told him it was the books of Knighthood that Don Quixote had -read that had turned his head. - -'I know not how that can be,' said the Innkeeper, 'for to my thinking -there is no finer reading in the world; and when it is harvest-time, -the reapers here often collect during the midday heat, and one who can -read takes one of these books in hand, while some thirty of us get -round him, and sit listening with so much delight that I could find it -in my heart to be hearing such stories day and night.' - -'And I think well of them, too,' said the Hostess, 'for when the -reading is going on, you are so full of it that you forget to scold me, -and I have a good time of it.' - -'Ah,' said her daughter, 'I too listen, and though I like not the -fights which please my father, yet the lamentations which the Knights -make when they are away from their Ladies make me weep for pity, and I -enjoy that.' - -'We have need here,' said the Curate, 'of our friends, the old woman -and the Niece. Beware, my good Host, of these books, and take care that -they carry you not on the road they have taken Don Quixote.' - -'Not so,' said the Innkeeper, 'I shall not be such a fool as to turn -Knight Errant; for I see well enough that it is not the fashion now to -do as they used to do in the times when these famous Knights roamed -about the world. All that is of no use nowadays.' - -Sancho came in in the midst of this, and was amazed to hear them say -that Knights Errant now were of no use, and that books of Knighthood -were full of follies and lies, and he made up his mind to see the end -of this voyage of his Master, and if that did not turn out as happily -as he expected, to return home to his wife and children and to his -former labours. - -At this moment a noise came from the room where Don Quixote was lying, -and Sancho went hastily to see if his Master wanted anything. - -In a few moments he returned, rushing wildly back, and shouting at the -top of his voice: 'Come, good Sirs, quickly, and help my Master, who is -engaged in one of the most terrible battles my eyes have ever seen. -I swear he has given the Giant, the enemy of my Lady, the Princess -Micomicona, such a cut, that he has sliced his head clean off like a -turnip.' - -'What sayest thou, friend?' said the Curate. 'Art thou in thy wits, -Sancho? How can it be as you say, when the Giant is at least two -thousand leagues from here?' - -By this time they heard a marvellous great noise within the chamber, -and Don Quixote shouting out: 'Hold, thief, scoundrel, rogue! now I -have thee, and thy scimitar shall not avail thee!' - -And it seemed as if he were striking a number of mighty blows on the -walls. - -'Do not stand there listening,' cried Sancho, 'but go in and part the -fray, or aid my Master. Though I think it will not now be necessary, -for doubtless the Giant is dead by now, and giving an account of the -ill life he led; for I saw his blood was all about the house and his -head cut off, which is as big as a great wine-bag.' - -'May I be hewed in pieces,' cried the Innkeeper on hearing this, 'if -Don Quixote has not been slashing at one of the skins of red wine that -are standing filled at his bed head, and the wine that is spilt must be -what this fellow takes for blood.' - -So saying he ran into the room, and the rest followed him, and found -Don Quixote in the strangest guise imaginable. He was in his shirt, -which did not reach to his knees. His legs were very long and lean, -covered with hair, and not over clean. On his head he wore a greasy -red nightcap which belonged to the Innkeeper. Round his left arm he had -folded the blanket from off his bed, at which Sancho gazed angrily, for -he owed that blanket a grudge. In his right hand he gripped his naked -sword, with which he laid round about him with many a thwack, shouting -out as if indeed he was at battle with some terrible Giant. The best -sport of all was that his eyes were not open, for he was indeed asleep, -and dreaming that he was fighting a Giant. For his imagination was -so full of the adventure in front of him that he dreamed that he had -already arrived at Micomicon, and was there in combat with his enemy; -and he had given so many blows to the wine-bags, supposing them to be -the Giant, that the whole chamber flowed with wine. - -When the Innkeeper saw this, he flew into such a rage that he set upon -Don Quixote with his clenched fist, and began to pummel him, so that if -Cardenio and the Curate had not pulled him off, he would have finished -the battle of the Giant altogether. In spite of this, the poor Knight -did not awake until the Barber got a great kettleful of cold water from -the well, and threw it right over him, when Don Quixote woke up, but -even then did not understand where he was. - -As for Sancho, he went up and down the floor, searching for the -Giant's head, and seeing he could not find it, said: 'Now I know that -everything I see in this house is enchanted, for this head is not to be -seen here, though I myself saw it cut off with my own eyes, and the -blood running from the body as from a fountain.' - -'What blood or what fountain dost thou cackle of here?' cried the -Innkeeper. 'Thou thief! dost thou not see that the blood and the -fountain is no other thing but the wine-bags which are ripped open, and -the red wine which swims up and down the room?' - -'I know nothing but this,' replied Sancho, 'that if I cannot find the -Giant's head, my Earldom will dissolve like salt cast into water.' For -indeed Sancho awake was worse than his Master asleep, so greatly had -his Master's promises turned his brain. - -The Innkeeper was at his wits' end at seeing the stupidity of the -Squire and the mischief done by his Master, but he determined that they -should not as before go away without paying; that Knighthood should be -no excuse for this, and he would make them pay for the very patches in -the wine-skins that had been ruined. - -All this time the Curate was holding Don Quixote's hands, who, -believing that he had finished the adventure and was in the presence of -the Princess Micomicona herself, fell on his knees before the Curate, -and said: 'Your Highness, exalted and beautiful Lady, may live from -henceforth secure from any danger that this wretched Giant might have -done to you; and I am also freed this day from the promise I made to -you, seeing that I have, with the assistance of her through whose -favour I live and breathe, so happily completed my labour.' - -'Did I not say so?' cried Sancho, hearing his Master. 'I was not -drunk. My Master has salted the Giant down this time, and my Earldom is -secure.' - -Who could help laughing at the follies of the two, Master and man? All -of them laughed except the Innkeeper, who burst out into fits of anger -ten times worse than before. - -At length the Barber, Cardenio, and the Curate managed, not without -much ado, to get Don Quixote to bed again, and presently left him -sleeping, with every sign of being worn out. They let him sleep, and -went out to comfort Sancho Panza, whose grief was great at not finding -the Giant's head. But they had more to do to pacify the Innkeeper, who -was almost out of his wits at the sudden death of his wine-skins. - -His wife, too, was running up and down, scolding and crying out: 'Alas, -the unlucky hour when this Knight Errant came to my house! Would that -mine eyes had never seen him, for he has cost me dear. The last time he -was here he went away scot free for his supper, bed, straw, and barley -for himself, his man, his horse, and his ass, because he said he was -a Knight Errant. Then for his sake the other gentlemen came and took -away my good tail, and have returned it damaged, and now he breaks -my wine-skins and spills the wine. I wish I may see as much of his -blood spilt.' And backed up by Maritornes, the good Innkeeper's wife -continued her lamentations with great fury. - -At length the Curate quelled the storm, promising to satisfy them for -the wine and the skins, and also for the damage to the tail, about -which there was so much fuss. Dorothea comforted Sancho, telling him -that as soon as ever it was made certain that his Master had slain the -Giant, and placed her safely in her Kingdom, she would give him the -best Earldom she had. - -With this he was consoled, and told her that he himself had seen the -Giant's head cut off, and that it had a beard which reached down to his -girdle, and that if the beard could not now be found it was because the -affairs of this house were all guided by enchantment, as he knew to his -cost by what had happened to himself in his last visit. - -Dorothea replied that she was of the same opinion, and bade him be of -good cheer, since all would be well ended to his heart's desire. - - - - - [Illustration: OF THE RARE ADVENTURES AT THE INN] - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - - Which treats of other rare Adventures which - happened at the Inn - - -Later in the day the Innkeeper, who was standing at the door, cried -out: 'Here is a fine troop of guests coming. If they stop here, we may -sing and rejoice.' - -'Who are they?' asked Cardenio. - -'Four men on horseback,' answered the Innkeeper, 'with lances and -targets, and all with black masks on their faces. With them comes a -woman dressed in white, on a side-saddle, and her face also masked, and -two lackeys that run with them on foot.' - -'Are they near?' asked the Curate. - -'So near,' replied the Innkeeper, 'that they are now arriving.' - -Hearing this, Dorothea veiled her face, and Cardenio went into Don -Quixote's room; and they had hardly time to do this when the whole -party, of whom the Innkeeper had spoken, entered the Inn. The four -who were on horseback were of comely and gallant bearing, and, having -dismounted, went to help down the Lady on the side-saddle; and one of -them, taking her in his arms, placed her upon a chair that stood at -the door of the room into which Cardenio had entered. All this while -neither she nor they took off their masks, or said a word, only the -Lady, as she sank into the chair, breathed a deep sigh, and let fall -her arms as one who was sick and faint. The lackeys led away the horses -to the stable. - -The Curate, seeing and noting all this, and curious to know who they -were that came to the Inn in such strange attire and keeping so close a -silence, went after one of the lackeys, and asked of him what he wanted -to learn. - -'Faith, Sir, I cannot tell you who these are, but they seem to be -persons of good quality, especially he who went to help the Lady -dismount. The rest obey him in all things.' - -'And the Lady—who is she?' asked the Curate. - -'I cannot tell you that neither,' replied the lackey, 'for I have not -once seen her face during all the journey, though I have often heard -her groan and utter deep sighs.' - -'And have you heard the name of any of them?' asked the Curate. - -'Not I, indeed,' replied the man; 'they travel in silence, and nothing -is heard but the sighs and sobs of the poor Lady, and it is our firm -belief that, wherever she is going, she is going against her will.' - -'May be it is so,' said the Curate, and he returned to the Inn. - -Dorothea, who heard the disguised Lady sigh so mournfully, moved by -pity, drew near to her and asked: 'What ails you, good Madam, for I -offer you my service and good-will, and would help you as much as lies -in my power?' - -To this the unhappy Lady made no reply; and though Dorothea again spoke -kindly to her, yet she sat silent and spoke not a word. - -At length the masked gentleman came across and said to Dorothea: 'Lady, -do not trouble yourself to offer anything to that woman; she is of a -most ungrateful nature, and not wont to return any courtesy.' - -'I have never spoken,' said the silent Lady, 'since I am too unhappy to -do so, and am almost drowned in my misfortunes.' - -Cardenio overheard these words very clearly and distinctly, for he was -close to her who uttered them, the door of Don Quixote's room being the -only thing that separated them, and he cried aloud: 'What is this I -hear? What voice is this that hath touched mine ear?' - -The Lady, moved with a sudden passion, turned her head at these cries, -and as she could not see who uttered them, she rose to her feet and -would have entered the room, but the gentleman stopped her and would -not let her move a step. - -This sudden movement loosened the mask, which fell from her face, -discovering her marvellous beauty. But her countenance was wan and -pale, and she turned her eyes from place to place as one distracted, -which caused Dorothea and the rest to behold her with a vast pity. - -The gentleman held her fast by the shoulders, and was so busied that he -could not hold up his own mask, which fell from his face, and, as it -did so, Dorothea looked up and discovered that it was her lover, Don -Fernando. - -Scarce had she known him than, breathing out a long and most pitiful -'Alas!' from the bottom of her heart, she fell backward in a swoon. -And if the Barber had not been by good chance at hand, she would have -fallen on the ground with all the weight of her body. - -The Curate removed the veil from her face, and cast water thereon, and -Don Fernando, as soon as he looked upon her, turned as pale as death. -Cardenio, who had heard the moan which Dorothea uttered, as she fell -fainting on the floor, came out of the room, and saw Don Fernando -holding his beloved Lucinda. - -All of them held their peace and beheld one another; Dorothea looking -on Don Fernando, Don Fernando on Cardenio, Cardenio on Lucinda, and -Lucinda on Cardenio, all stood dumb and amazed, as folk that knew not -what had befallen them. - -Lucinda was the first to break the silence. 'Leave me, Don Fernando,' -she cried, 'for the sake of what is due to yourself. Let me cleave to -the wall whose ivy I am, to his support from whom neither your threats -nor your promises could part me.' - -By this time Dorothea had come to herself, and seeing that Don Fernando -did not release Lucinda, she arose, and casting herself at his feet, -shed a flood of crystal tears as she thus addressed him: 'If the sun -of Lucinda's beauty hath not blinded thine eyes, know that she who -is kneeling at thy feet is the hapless and miserable Dorothea. I am -that lowly country girl to whom thou didst promise marriage. Know, my -dear Lord, that the matchless love I bear thee may make amends for the -beauty and nobility of her for whom thou dost abandon me. Thou canst -not be the beautiful Lucinda's, because thou art mine; nor she thine, -for she belongs to Cardenio. And all this being so, as in truth it is, -and seeing that thou art as good as thou art noble, wherefore put off -making me once more happy again? Do not vex the declining years of -my parents, who have ever been loyal vassals to thine. For remember, -whether thou wilt or no, thou must ever remain my promised husband.' - -These and many other reasons did the grieved Dorothea use, with so -much feeling and so many tears, that all who were present, even those -who had come with Don Fernando, could not help from giving her their -sympathy. - -As for Don Fernando, he stood gazing fixedly at Dorothea for some -time, and at last, overwhelmed with remorse and admiration, he took her -to his arms, saying: 'Thou hast vanquished, O beautiful Dorothea. Thou -hast vanquished!' - -At the same moment, Cardenio, who had stood close to Don Fernando, -started forward to catch the fainting Lucinda, who threw both her arms -around his neck, crying: 'Thou, and thou only, art my Lord and Master.' - -Thus were the true lovers all united, and the good Curate, the Barber, -and even Sancho Panza joined in their tears, delighted that so much -joy had taken the place of so much misery. As for Sancho, he excused -himself afterwards for his tears, saying he wept only because he saw -that Dorothea was not the Queen of Micomicona as he had imagined, from -whom he hoped to have received such mighty gifts and favours. - -Each in turn told his or her story, and Don Fernando gave an account of -all that had befallen him in the city, after he had found the scroll -that Lucinda had written in which she declared her love for Cardenio. - -And it appeared that, the day after the interruption of the wedding, -Lucinda had secretly departed from her father's house, and had fled no -one knew whither; but within a few months Don Fernando had learned that -she was in a certain convent, intending to remain there all the days -of her life, if she could not pass them with Cardenio. As soon as he -had learned that, choosing three gentlemen to aid him, he went to the -place where she was. One day he surprised her walking with one of the -nuns in the cloisters, and carried her off without giving her a chance -to resist. From there they brought her to a certain village, where -they disguised themselves, and so rode on until they came to the Inn. -But Lucinda, after she was in his power, did nothing but weep and sigh -without speaking a word. - -Thus in silence and tears had they reached this Inn, which to him and -all of them would always remain the most beautiful place in the world, -since it had seen the end of so many troubles, and brought him back to -his own true love. - - - - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE ADDRESSING DOROTHEA] - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - - Wherein is continued the History of the - famous Princess Micomicona - - -Sancho gave ear to what he heard with no small grief of mind, seeing -that all hopes of his Earldom vanished away like smoke, and the fair -Princess Micomicona was turned into Dorothea, whilst his Master was -sound asleep, careless of all that happened. Dorothea could not believe -that the happiness she enjoyed was not a dream. Cardenio and Lucinda -were of a similar mind, and Don Fernando was truly thankful that he was -free from the dangerous path he had taken, which must have ended in -loss of all honour and credit. - -In a word, all were contented and happy. The Curate, like a man of -sense, congratulated every one on his good fortune; but she that kept -greatest Jubilee and joy was the Hostess, because Cardenio and the -Curate had promised to pay all the damages done by Don Quixote. - -Only Sancho, as has been said, was unhappy and sorrowful. And thus he -went with a melancholy face to his Master, who was then just awaking, -and said: 'Your Worship, Sir Knight of the Rueful Countenance, may well -sleep on as long as you please, without troubling yourself to kill any -Giant, or restore to the Princess her Kingdom, for all that is done and -finished already.' - -'That I well believe,' replied Don Quixote, 'for I have had the most -monstrous and terrible battle with that Giant that ever I had all the -days of my life; and yet with one back stroke, swish, I tumbled his -head to the ground, and his blood gushed forth, so that streams of it -ran along the earth as if it had been water.' - -'As if it had been red wine, your Worship might have said,' replied -Sancho, 'for I would have you know, if you do not know already, that -the dead Giant is no other than a ruined wine-bag, and the blood -six-and-twenty gallons of red wine.' - -'What sayest thou, madman?' cried Don Quixote. 'Art thou in thy right -wits?' - -'Get up, Sir,' said Sancho, 'and you shall see yourself the fine piece -of work you have done, and what we have to pay. You shall behold the -Queen turned into a private Lady, called Dorothea, with many other -things that may well astonish you.' - -'I should marvel at nothing,' replied Don Quixote, 'for if thou -rememberest right, I told thee, the other time that we were here, how -all that happened here was done by enchantment, and it would be no -wonder if it were the same now.' - -'I should believe it all,' replied Sancho, 'if my tossing in the -blanket had been a thing of that sort. Only it was not so, but very -real and certain. And I saw the Innkeeper, who is here to this day, -hold one end of the blanket and toss me up to the sky with very good -grace and strength, and as much mirth as muscle. And where it comes to -knowing persons, I hold, though I may be a simpleton and a sinner, that -there is no enchantment, but only bruising and bad luck.' - -'Well,' cried Don Quixote, 'time will show; but give me my clothes, for -I would see these wonders that thou speakest of for myself.' - -Sancho gave him his clothes, and, whilst he was making him ready, the -Curate told Don Fernando and the rest, of Don Quixote's mad pranks, and -the plan he had used to get him away from the Brown Mountains, where he -imagined he was exiled through the disdain of his Lady. - -The Curate told them further, that since the good fortune of the Lady -Dorothea prevented them carrying out their scheme, they must invent -some other way of taking him home to his village. - -Cardenio offered to continue the adventure, and let Lucinda take -Dorothea's part. - -'No,' cried Don Fernando. 'It shall not be so, for I will have -Dorothea herself carry out her plan, and if the good Knight's home is -not far from here, I shall be very glad to help in his cure.' - -'It is not more than two days' journey,' said the Curate. - -'Even if it were more,' replied Don Fernando, 'I should be happy to -make the journey in so good a cause.' - -At this moment Don Quixote sallied out, completely armed with -Mambrino's helmet, which had a great hole in it, on his head, his -shield on his arm, and leaning on his lance. His grotesque appearance -amazed Don Fernando and his companions very much, who wondered at his -gaunt face so withered and yellow, the strangeness of his arms, and his -grave manner of proceeding. - -All stood silent to see what he would do, whilst the Knight, casting -his eyes on the beautiful Dorothea, with great gravity and calmness -spoke as follows: 'I am informed, beautiful Lady, by this my Squire, -that your greatness has come to an end, and your condition is -destroyed. For, instead of being a Queen and a mighty Princess, you -are now become a private damsel. If this has been done by the special -order of that sage magician, the King your Father, because he dreaded -that I could not give you all necessary help, I say that he does not -know half his art, and has never understood the histories of knightly -adventures. For if he had read them with the attention that I have, he -would have found how many Knights of less fame than myself have ended -far more desperate adventures than this, for it is no great matter to -kill a Giant, be he ever so proud. For in truth it is not so many hours -since I myself fought with one; but I will be silent, lest they tell me -I lie. Time, the detecter of all things, will disclose it when we least -expect.' - -'Thou foughtest with two wine-bags, not with a Giant,' cried the -Innkeeper. - -Don Fernando told him to be silent and not to interrupt Don Quixote, -who continued his speech thus: 'In fine, I say, high and disinherited -Lady, do not trouble if your Father has made this change in you, for -there is no peril so great on earth but my sword shall open a way -through it, and by overthrowing your enemies' head to the ground I -shall set your crown on your own head within a few days.' - -Don Quixote said no more, but waited for the Princess's answer. She -knowing Don Fernando's wish that she should continue to carry out -their plan, answered with a good grace and pleasant manner, saying: -'Whosoever informed you, valorous Knight of the Rueful Countenance, -that I have altered and transformed my being, hath not told you the -truth, for I am the very same to-day as I was yesterday. True it is -that my fortunes have somewhat changed, and given me more than I -hoped for or could wish for, but for all that I have not ceased to be -what I was before, and I still hope to have the aid of your valorous -and invincible arm. Therefore, good my Lord, restore to my Father -his honour, and believe him to be both wise and sagacious, for by -his magic he has found me a remedy for all my misfortunes. For I -believe that had it not been for you, I should never have attained the -happiness I now enjoy, and that I speak the truth these good gentlemen -will bear witness. All that is now wanted is that to-morrow morning we -set out on our journey. As for the conclusion of the good success I -hourly expect, that I leave to the valour of your invincible arm.' - -Thus spoke the witty Dorothea, and Don Quixote, having heard her, -turned to Sancho with an air of great indignation, and said: 'Now, I -say unto thee, Sancho, thou art the veriest little rascal in all Spain. -Tell me, thief and vagabond, didst thou not tell me that this Princess -was turned into a damsel, and that she was called Dorothea? And that -the head that I slashed from a Giant's shoulders, was a wine-skin, with -a thousand other follies, that threw me into the greatest confusion I -was ever in in my life? I vow,' he continued, looking up to the heavens -and crashing his teeth together, 'I vow that I am about to make such a -havoc of thee, as shall beat some wit into the pates of all the lying -Squires that shall hereafter ever serve Knights Errant in this world.' - -'I pray you have patience, good my Lord,' answered Sancho, 'for it -may well befall me to be deceived touching the change of the Lady and -Princess Micomicona. But in what touches the Giant's head, or at least -the cutting of the wine-bags, and that the blood was but red wine, -I am not deceived, I swear. For the bags lie wounded there at your -own bed-head, and the red wine hath made a lake in your room: and all -this you will know, when his honour the Landlord asks you to pay the -damages.' - -'I tell thee, Sancho, thou art a blockhead,' said Don Quixote. 'Pardon -me, we have had enough of it.' - -'Enough, indeed,' said Don Fernando, 'and let me entreat you to say -no more of it. Seeing my Lady the Princess says she will go away -to-morrow, as it is too late to depart to-day, let us agree to spend -this evening in pleasant discourse, and to-morrow we will attend the -worthy Knight, Don Quixote, and be eye-witnesses of the valorous feats -of arms he shall do in carrying out this adventure.' - -It was now time for supper, and they all sat down at a long table, for -there was not a square or round one in the whole house. And they gave -the principal end to Don Quixote, though he did all he could to refuse -it; but when he had taken it, he commanded that the Lady Micomicona -should sit at his elbow, as he was her champion. The others being -placed in due order, they all enjoyed a pleasant supper, listening to -the wise, strange discourse that Don Quixote held upon his favourite -subject of knightly adventures. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - - Of the strange Enchantment of the Unfortunate - Knight - - -After supper it appeared that there were not sufficient rooms in -the house for all the company, so the ladies retired to the best -apartments, whilst the gentlemen sought rest where they could get -it with the least discomfort. Sancho Panza found a bed on his Ass's -harness, where he was soon fast asleep, and Don Quixote satisfied his -sense of duty by arming himself, mounting Rozinante, and riding round -the Inn, that he might act as sentinel of this imaginary Castle. - -In a short time all the Inn was drowned in a deep silence. Only the -Innkeeper's daughter and Maritornes were not asleep, but knowing very -well Don Quixote's humour, and that he was armed on horseback outside -the Inn keeping guard, the two agreed to play him some trick, or at -least to pass a little time listening to his nonsense. - - [Illustration: THE ENCHANTMENT OF DON QUIXOTE] - -It so happened that there was not any window in all the Inn which -looked out into the fields, but only a hole in the barn, out of which -they were used to throw the straw. To this hole came the two damsels, -and saw Don Quixote mounted and leaning on his lance, breathing -forth ever and anon such doleful and deep sighs, that it seemed as if -each one of them would tear his very soul. They noted besides how he -said in a soft and amorous voice: 'O my Lady Dulcinea of Toboso, the -perfection of all beauty, the sum-total of discretion, the treasury -of grace, the storehouse of virtue, the ideal of all that is worthy, -modest, or delightful in all the world! What might thy Ladyship be -doing at this present? Art thou perhaps thinking of thy captive Knight -who most readily exposeth himself to so many dangers for thy sake? Give -me tidings of her, O thou Moon! Mayhap thou dost now look down upon her -pacing some gallery of her sumptuous palace, or leaning against some -balcony thinking what glory she shall give me for my pains, what quiet -to my cares, what life to my death, and what reward for my services. -And thou, O Sun, who art even now busy saddling thy horses to set off -betimes and go forth and see my Lady, I beseech thee when thou seest -her to salute her on my behalf, but take care that thou dost not kiss -her on her face lest thou provokest my jealousy.' - -So far the Knight had proceeded when the Innkeeper's daughter began to -call him softly to her, saying: 'Sir Knight, approach a little way, if -you please.' - -At this signal Don Quixote turned his head and saw by the light of the -moon, which shined then very clearly, that they beckoned him from the -hole in the barn, which he imagined to be a fair window full of iron -bars gilded in costly fashion with gold, fit for so rich a Castle as -he imagined that Inn to be. In a moment he believed, in his strange -fancy, that the beautiful damsel, daughter to the Lord of the Castle, -conquered by love of him, was come to have speech with him. - -In this fancy, and because he would not show himself discourteous and -ungrateful, he turned Rozinante about and came over to the hole, and -then, having beheld the two damsels, he said: 'I take pity on you, -beautiful Lady, that you have fixed your love where it is not possible -to find another's in return. Nor must you blame this miserable Knight -Errant, whom love hath wholly disabled from paying his addresses to any -other than to her who at first sight became the Lady of his choice. -Pardon me, therefore, good Lady, and retire yourself to your room, and -be pleased to say no more to me, that I may not appear ungrateful to -you. And if, of the love you bear me, you can find me any other way -wherein I may serve you, demand it boldly, for I swear to pleasure you -in this, even though my task be to bring you a lock of Medusa's hairs, -which are all of snakes, or to capture the beams of the sun in a phial -of glass.' - -'My Lady needs none of these things, Sir Knight,' answered Maritornes. - -'What doth she then want, discreet dame?' asked Don Quixote. - -'Only one of your fair hands,' said Maritornes, 'that she may fulfil -the desire that brought her to this window with so great danger to -herself, that if her Lord and Father knew of it, the least he would do -would be to slice off her ear.' - -'He had best beware of what he does,' answered Don Quixote, 'unless he -would make the most disastrous end that ever father made in this world, -for having laid violent hands on the delicate limbs of his amorous -daughter.' - -Maritornes had no doubt but that Don Quixote would give up his hand as -he was requested, and, having made up her mind what she would do, she -went down into the stable, and fetched out Sancho Panza's Ass's halter. -With this she returned again as quickly as possible, and came to the -hole just as Don Quixote had set his feet upon Rozinante's saddle that -he might the better reach the barred windows at which he thought the -lovesick damsel was standing. - -And as he stretched forth his hand to her he cried: 'Hold, Lady, this -hand, or, as I may better say, this scourge of evildoers. Hold, I say, -this hand, which no other woman ever touched before, not even she -herself who holds entire possession of my whole body. Nor do I give -it to you to the end that you should kiss it, but that you may behold -the strength of the sinews, the knitting of the muscles, the large and -swelling veins, whereby you may learn how mighty is the force of that -arm to which such a hand is knit.' - -'We shall see that presently,' said Maritornes. - -And then, making a running knot in the halter, she cast it on the wrist -of his hand, and, coming down from the hole, she tied the other end of -the halter very fast to the bolt of the hay-loft door. - -Don Quixote, feeling the roughness of the halter about his wrist, -said: 'It seems that you rather rasp than clasp my hand, but yet I pray -you not to handle it so roughly, seeing it is in no fault for what you -suffer from my inclinations. Remember that those who love well do not -take so cruel revenge on those who love elsewhere.' - -But nobody gave ear to those words of Don Quixote. For, as soon as -Maritornes had tied him fast, she and the other, almost bursting with -laughter, ran away and left him fastened in such a manner that it was -not possible for him to loose himself. He was standing, as has been -said, on Rozinante's saddle, with his whole arm thrust within the hole, -and fastened to the bolt of the door, and was in great fear that if -Rozinante budged never so little on either side he should fall and hang -by the arm. Therefore he durst not make the least movement, though he -might have expected, from Rozinante's patience and mild spirit, that if -he were allowed, he would stand without stirring for a whole century. - -In fine, Don Quixote, finding that he was tied up and that the ladies -were gone, began at once to imagine that all this had been done by way -of enchantment, as the time before when he and Sancho had suffered such -strange adventures. Then he was wroth with himself for his want of -judgment and discretion in venturing to enter the Castle a second time, -seeing that he had come off so badly the first. For it was a maxim with -the Knights Errant, that when they had attempted an adventure and had -not come well out of it, it was a token that it was not reserved for -them but for some other. - -Yet for all this he drew forward his arm to see if he might deliver -himself, but he was so well bound that all his efforts proved vain. It -is true that he drew his arm cautiously, lest Rozinante should stir, -and though he longed to get into the seat of his saddle again, yet he -could do no other but stand upright or wrench off his arm. Many times -did he wish for the sword of Amadis against which no enchantment had -power. Then he fell to cursing his stars, or again called upon the Lady -Dulcinea to remember him anew. Now he would call on his good Squire -Sancho Panza, who, buried in sleep, stretched out upon his pack-saddle, -heard him not, and then he called in vain on the Sage Urganda to -release him. - -Finally, the morning found him so full of despair and confusion, that -he roared like a bull, for he had no hope that daylight would bring him -any cure, as he fully believed his enchantment would prove everlasting. -This belief was strengthened inasmuch as Rozinante had not budged ever -so little, and he came to the conclusion that both he and his horse -should abide in that state without eating, drinking, or sleeping, until -either the evil influences of the stars were passed, or some great -Enchanter had disenchanted him. - -In this he was deceived, for scarce did day begin to peep than there -arrived four horsemen at the Inn door, with firelocks on their -saddle-bows, who were officers of the Holy Brotherhood. They called out -at the Inn door, which was still shut, giving loud knocks, which, being -heard by Don Quixote from the place where he stood sentinel, he cried -out in a loud and arrogant voice: 'Knights or Squires, or whatsoever -else ye be, you are not to knock any more at the gates of this Castle, -seeing that at such an hour as this either those who are within are -sleeping, or else are not wont to open their fortress until Phœbus hath -spread his beams over the earth. Therefore stand back and wait until it -be clear day, and then we will see whether it be just or no, that they -should open their gates unto you.' - -'What Castle or Fortress is this,' cried one of them, 'that we should -observe these ceremonies? If thou beest the Innkeeper, command that the -door be opened, for we are travellers that will tarry no longer than to -bait our horses and away, for we ride post-haste.' - -'Doth it seem to you, gentlemen,' said Don Quixote, 'that I look like -an Innkeeper?' - -'I know not what thou lookest like,' answered the other, 'but well I -know that thou speakest madly in calling this Inn a Castle.' - -'It is a Castle,' replied Don Quixote, 'and one of the best in this -Province, and it hath people in it who have had a sceptre in hand and a -Crown on their head.' - -'They be some company of strolling players, then,' replied the man, -laughing, 'for no others hold sceptres or wear crowns in such a paltry -Inn as this is.' - -'Thou knowest but little of the world,' answered Don Quixote, 'seeing -thou art ignorant of the chances that are wont to happen in Knight -Errantry.' - -The man's companions wearied of this discourse, and turned again to -knock with great fury at the door, and this time they not only waked -the Innkeeper but also all the guests, and the former arose to demand -their pleasure. - -In the meantime it happened that one of the horses on which they rode -came sniffing round Rozinante, who stood melancholy and sad, with his -ears down, bearing up his outstretched Master. But being after all an -animal of a friendly disposition to his own kind, he could not refrain -from turning round to sniff at him who came towards him. - -Scarce had he moved one step, when Don Quixote's two feet, which were -close together, slipped, and, sliding from the saddle, the Knight would -have fallen to the ground had he not remained hanging by the arm. This -caused him so much pain that he felt that his wrist was being cut -off or his arm torn away. For he hung so near to the ground that he -touched it with the tips of his toes; and this increased his misery, -for, feeling the little that was wanted to set his feet wholly on the -ground, he struggled all he could to reach it, deceived by the hope -that he could indeed touch it if he only stretched himself a little -further. - - - - - [Illustration: THE DISPUTED POMMEL] - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - Wherein is continued the wonderful Adventures - at the Inn - - -While Don Quixote hung suspended between heaven and earth, his outcries -were so terrible that the Innkeeper ran to the door, and opened it -hastily and in great fright, to see who it was that roared so loud. - -Maritornes, whom the cries had also awakened, guessing what it was, ran -to the hay-loft, and, unseen by any one, loosed the halter that held -up Don Quixote, and he fell at once to the ground in the sight of the -Innkeeper and the four travellers, who, coming up to him, asked him -what ailed him. - -He, without any answer slipped the halter from his wrist, and, rising -to his feet, leaped on Rozinante, braced on his shield, couched his -lance, and, wheeling round the field, rode back at a hard-gallop, -crying out: 'Whosoever shall dare to say that I have been with just -title enchanted, if my Lady, the Princess Micomicona, will give me -leave to do it, I say that he lies, and I challenge him to single -combat.' - -The travellers were amazed at his words, but the Host told them that -they must not mind him, for he was out of his wits. - -When Don Quixote saw that none of the four travellers made any account -of him or answered his challenge, he was ready to burst with wrath -and fury; and could he have found that a Knight Errant might lawfully -accept and undertake another enterprise, having plighted his word and -faith not to attempt any until he had finished that which he had first -promised, he would have fallen upon them all, and made them give him an -answer in spite of themselves. - -Those in the Inn were now fully aroused, and had come with the -Innkeeper to see the new arrivals. Whilst they were talking to the -four travellers, in the big room where they had supped, they heard a -noise outside, the cause of which was that some dishonest guests, who -had stayed there that night, seeing all the people busy to know the -cause of the four horsemen coming, had thought to escape scot free -without paying their reckoning. But the Innkeeper, who attended his own -affairs with more diligence than other men's, stopped them going out -and demanded his money, upbraiding their dishonest conduct with such -words, that they returned him an answer with their fists; and this they -did so roundly that the poor Innkeeper was compelled to cry for help. - -His wife and his daughter, seeing Don Quixote standing by, cried out to -him: 'Help, Sir Knight! help my poor father, whom two wicked men are -thrashing like a bundle of corn.' - -To this Don Quixote answered leisurely and with great gravity: -'Beautiful damsel, your prayer cannot at the present time be granted, -for I am not permitted to engage in any new adventure until I have -finished the one I have promised to carry through. And all that I can -now do in your service is what I now say to you. Run unto your father -and bid him continue and maintain his battle manfully until I demand -leave of the Princess Micomicona to help him out of his distress. For -if she will give me leave, you may make sure that he will be delivered.' - -'As I am a sinner,' cried Maritornes, who was standing by, 'before you -get that leave you speak of my Master will be in the other world.' - -'Permit me but to get the leave I speak of,' replied Don Quixote, 'and -it matters not whether he be in the other world or no. For I would -bring him back again in spite of the other world itself, or at least, I -will take such a revenge on those that sent him there that you shall be -well content.' - -Without saying more he went in and fell on his knees before Dorothea, -demanding her in knightly and courtly phrases that she would give him -leave to go and aid the Constable of the Castle who was then plunged in -deep distress. - -The Princess granted him leave very willingly, and instantly buckling -on his shield, and laying hands on his sword, he ran to the Inn door -where the two guests were still fighting with the Innkeeper. But as -soon as he arrived he stopped and stood still, although Maritornes -and the Hostess asked him twice or thrice the cause of his delay in -assisting their master and husband. - -'I delay,' said Don Quixote, 'because it is not permitted me to lay -hands to my sword against Squire-like men who are not dubbed Knights. -But call me here my Squire Sancho, for this defence and revenge belong -to him as his duty.' - -All this took place outside the Inn door, where fists and blows were -given and taken much to the Innkeeper's cost, and to the rage and grief -of Maritornes and the Hostess and her daughter, who were like to run -mad on seeing Don Quixote's cowardice and the mischief their master, -husband, and father was enduring. - -However, though the laws of Knighthood hindered Don Quixote from -fighting, he soon persuaded the guests, by his wise reproofs of their -conduct, to leave the Innkeeper alone, and pay him what was owing by -them; and all would have been at peace in the Inn if another traveller -had not arrived there at this moment. This was none other than the -Barber from whom Don Quixote took away the helmet of Mambrino, and -Sancho Panza the harness or furniture of the ass, whereof he made an -exchange of his own. And while the Barber was leading his beast to -the stable, he caught sight of Sancho Panza mending some part of the -pack-saddle, or pannel, as it was called. - -As soon as he had eyed him he knew him, and at once set upon Sancho, -saying: 'Ah, Sir thief, here I have you! Give up my basin and my -pannel, with all the trappings you stole from me.' - -Sancho, finding himself attacked so suddenly, laying fast hold of the -pannel with one hand, with the other gave the Barber such a buffet that -he bathed his teeth in blood. But for all that the Barber held fast his -grip of the pannel, and cried out so loud that all within the house -came to the noise and scuffle. - -'Help, here, in the name of the King and justice,' shouted the Barber. -'For this thief and robber by the highways goeth about to kill me -because I seek to get back my own goods.' - -'Thou liest,' cried Sancho, 'for I am not a robber of the highways. And -my Lord Don Quixote won these spoils in a fair battle.' - -By this time Don Quixote himself had come to the spot, not a little -proud to see how his Squire defended himself and attacked his enemy, -and he took him from that moment to be a man of valour, and resolved in -his own mind to dub him Knight on the first occasion that should offer, -because he thought that the order of Knighthood would be well bestowed -on him. - -'Sirs,' said the puzzled and angry Barber, 'this pannel is as -certainly mine, and I know it as well as if I had bred it, and there is -my ass in the stable who will not let me lie; so do but try it on him, -and if it fit him not to a hair, I am willing to be called infamous. -And I can say more, that on the very day on which they took my pannel -from me, they robbed me likewise of a new brazen basin which had never -been used, and cost me a crown.' - -Here Don Quixote could no longer contain himself from speaking, and, -thrusting himself between the two, to part them asunder, he caused the -pannel to be placed publicly upon the ground until the dispute should -be decided, and said: 'To the end that you may understand the clear -mistake which this good Squire labours under, see how he calls that a -basin, which was, and is, and always shall be, the helmet of Mambrino, -which I took from him by force in fair battle, and made myself lord -thereof in a lawful and warlike manner. In regard to the pannel I -meddle not; but I can say that my Squire Sancho asked leave of me to -take away the trappings of this vanquished coward's horse, that he -might adorn his own withal. I gave him leave to do it, and he took -them. As for these being turned from a horse's furniture to an ass's -pannel, I can give no other reason than the common one in affairs of -Knighthood, that this is done by enchantment. And to confirm the truth -of all I say, run, friend Sancho, speedily, and bring me out the helmet -which this good fellow declares to be a basin.' - -'By my faith, Sir,' said Sancho, 'if we have no better proof of our -story than what you say, the helmet of Mambrino is as arrant a basin as -this fellow's trappings are a pack-saddle.' - -'Do what I command,' replied Don Quixote, 'for I cannot believe that -all things in this Castle are governed by enchantment.' - -Sancho went for the basin and brought it, and as soon as Don Quixote -saw it, he took it in his hands and said: 'See, Sirs, with what face -can this impudent Squire declare that this is a basin, and not the -helmet that I have mentioned. I swear to you by the order of Knighthood -which I profess, that this is the very same helmet which I won from -him, without having added or taken anything from it.' - -'There is no doubt of that,' said Sancho, 'for, since the time my -Lord won it until now, he never fought but one battle with it, when -he delivered the unlucky chained men. And but for his basin, I mean -helmet, he had not escaped so free as he did, so thick a shower of -stones rained all the time of that battle.' - - - - - [Illustration: DON QUIXOTE ARRESTED] - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - - Wherein is finally decided the Dispute about - Mambrino's Helmet and the Pannel - - -'Good Sirs,' cried the Barber, 'what do you think of those who will -contend that this is not a basin but a helmet?' - -'He that shall say the contrary,' said Don Quixote, 'I will make him -know that he lies, if he be a Knight; and if he be but a Squire, that -he lies and lies again a thousand times.' - -The Barber Nicholas, Don Quixote's friend, who was then with the rest, -had a mind to carry the jest further, and make them all laugh, so, -speaking to the other Barber, he said: 'Sir Barber, or whoever you are, -know that I am also of your profession, and have held a certificate -for more than twenty years, and I know all the instruments of a -Barber's art well. Moreover, in my youth I was a soldier, and I know -what a helmet is like, and a morion, and a casque, and other kinds of -soldiers' arms. And therefore I say, always subject to better opinion, -that this good piece which is laid here before us, and which this good -Knight holds in his hand, not only is not a Barber's basin, but is as -far from being one as white is from black. It is a helmet, though, as I -think, not a complete helmet.' - -'No, truly,' said Don Quixote, 'for it wants the half, namely the lower -part and the visor.' - -'That is true,' said the Curate, who understood his friend's intention. -And Cardenio, Fernando, and his companions fell in with this design. - -'Lord a' mercy!' cried the poor Barber, half beside himself. 'Is -it possible that so many honourable men should say that this is no -basin but a helmet? It is a thing to strike with amazement a whole -University, be they never so wise. Enough; if this basin is a helmet, -then must the pack-saddle be a horse's trappings.' - -'To me it looks like a pack-saddle,' said Don Quixote, 'but I have -already said I do not meddle with that matter.' - -'Whether it be a pannel or not,' said the Curate, 'it is but for Don -Quixote to say, for in these matters of Knighthood, all these gentlemen -and myself bow to his knowledge.' - -'Sirs,' said Don Quixote, 'so many and strange are the things that -have befallen me in this Castle these two times I have lodged here, -that it would be rash in me to pronounce a judgment in the matter. To -those who say this is a basin and no helmet I have made my answer, but -whether this be a pannel or the furniture of a horse I will leave it to -others to decide.' - -To those who knew Don Quixote's madness this was a matter of much -laughter and good sport, but to the four travellers who had arrived -that morning, and who were officers of justice, and soldiers of the -Holy Brotherhood, it seemed the greatest folly in the world. - -But he that was most of all beside himself with wrath was the Barber, -whose basin they had transformed before his face into the helmet of -Mambrino, and whose pannel, he felt sure, would now be turned into the -rich furniture and equipage of a great horse. - -Those who were in the secret laughed heartily to see Don Fernando go up -and down taking the opinion of this man and that, whispering in their -ear that they might give their verdict to him in secret. - -And after he had gone round to all those who knew Don Quixote, he said -to the Barber in a loud voice: 'The truth is, good fellow, that I grow -weary of asking so many opinions, for I no sooner ask what I want to -know than they answer me that it is mere madness to say that this is -the pannel of an ass, but rather is it the furniture of a horse, yes -and of a chief horse of service.' - -'May I never go to heaven,' said the poor distracted Barber, 'if you be -not all deceived! It is a pannel and no horse's trappings. But the law -takes it from me, and so farewell to it.' - -The Barber's simplicity caused no less laughter than the follies of Don -Quixote, who said: 'There is now no more to be done than for every one -to take his own.' - -But at that moment one of the four officers of justice, who had -listened to the dispute, full of anger to hear such nonsense seriously -spoken, cried out: 'If this be not a planned jest, I cannot understand -why men of such intelligence as all these seem to be, should dare to -say that this is not a basin nor this a pannel. For indeed it is as -very a pannel as my father is my father, and he that hath said or will -say anything else must be drunk.' - -'Thou liest like a clownish knave,' said Don Quixote. And lifting up -his lance, which he always held in his hand, he aimed such a blow at -the trooper's pate, that if he had not avoided it, it would have thrown -him to the ground. - -The lance was broken into splinters by the fall of the blow, and the -other troopers, seeing their comrade so misused, cried out for help -in the name of the Holy Brotherhood. The Innkeeper, whose duty it was -to help all officers of justice, ran for his sword, and stood by to -help them. The Barber laid hold of his pannel, and Sancho Panza did -the same. Don Quixote set hand to his sword and attacked the troopers, -and Cardenio and Don Fernando took his part. The Curate cried out, -the Hostess shrieked, the daughter screamed, Maritornes howled, while -Dorothea and Lucinda stood frightened and amazed. The Barber battered -Sancho, and Sancho pounded him back again, while Don Fernando got one -of the troopers at his feet, and belaboured him soundly. The Innkeeper -cried aloud for help for the Holy Brotherhood, and all the Inn seemed -full of wails, cries, screeches, confusion, fears, terrors, disasters, -slashes, buffets, cudgellings, kicks, and the shedding of blood. - -In the midst of this chaos, Don Quixote began to imagine that he was -plunged up to the ears in the battle of the King Agramante, and he -cried aloud in a voice that thundered through the Inn, 'Hold all your -hands, put up your swords, and keep the peace, if you wish to continue -alive.' - -That great and monstrous voice made them all stand still; on which he -continued: 'Did I not tell you, Sirs, that this Castle was enchanted, -and that some legion of magicians did inhabit it? Note how the discord -of King Agramante's Camp is among us, so that we all of us fight, and -none know for what. Come, therefore, Master Curate, and make you peace -and atonement between us, for I swear that it is a great wrong and pity -that so many noblemen as we are here should be slain for so slight -causes.' - -The Barber was well content that this should be so, by reason that both -his beard and his pannel had been torn to pieces, and Sancho was at -once obedient to his Master's voice, as became a dutiful servant. As -for the troopers, when they learned Don Fernando's rank and position, -they were quieted, but they retired from the brawl grumbling, and by -no means satisfied with the turn things had taken. - -Now it happened that one of these officers—the very one who was so -buffeted by Don Fernando—had with him a warrant to take into custody -one Don Quixote, who was charged with setting free certain galley -slaves. As soon as he remembered this, he must needs try whether the -description of Don Quixote tallied with the person before him. - -He took from his bosom a scroll of parchment, and reading it very -leisurely, for he was no great scholar, at every other word he stared -at Don Quixote, and compared the marks of his warrant with those in the -Knight's face, and found that without doubt he was the man that was -wanted. - -No sooner had he made up his mind about this than, holding the warrant -in his left hand, he laid hold of Don Quixote's collar with his right -so strongly that he could hardly breathe, and cried aloud: 'Aid for the -Holy Brotherhood. And that you may see that I am in good earnest, read -that warrant, wherein you shall find that this robber of the highways -is to be taken into custody.' - -The Curate took the warrant, and saw that what the trooper said was -true, and that the marks described Don Quixote very nearly. - -As for the Knight, when he found himself abused by so base a rascal—as -he considered him—his anger was roused to its height, and he caught -the trooper by the throat with both hands, in such a way that if he -had not been speedily rescued by his companions, he would have given -up his life there and then, before Don Quixote would have released his -hold. - -The Innkeeper was forced to assist his fellow-officer, and his wife, -seeing her husband engaged anew in battle, raised a fresh cry, which -was caught up by her daughter and Maritornes, who called for help from -all the company. - -Sancho, seeing all that passed, called out: 'By my faith, all that my -Master hath said of the enchantments of this Castle is true, for it is -not possible for a man to live quietly in it for an hour together.' - -Don Fernando soon parted the trooper and Don Quixote, but the officers -did not cease to demand their prisoner, and called on the others to -help them to bind him and deliver him up to their pleasure, for so the -service of the King and the Holy Brotherhood required, in whose name -they demanded help in arresting this robber and brigand of the public -paths and highways. - -Don Quixote laughed to hear them speak so idly, and said with great -calmness: 'Come hither, filthy and baseborn crew. Dare you call the -loosing of the enchained, the freeing of prisoners, the assisting of -the wretched, the raising of such as are fallen, the giving to those -in want,—dare you, I say, call these things robbing on the highway? -O infamous brood, how little do you know of the virtue which lies -in Knight Errantry! We give you to understand the sin and error in -which you lie, in not adoring the very shadow, much more the actual -presence of a Knight Errant. Come hither, I say, and tell me who was -the blockhead who signed a warrant of arrest against such a Knight as -I am? Who was he, that knows not that Knights Errant are free from all -tribunals; their sword is their law, their valour their court, and -their own will and pleasure their statutes? I say again, What madman -was he that knows not the privileges that belong to a Knight Errant, -from the day he is dubbed a Knight and devotes himself to a Knightly -calling? What Knight Errant did ever pay tax or custom? What tailor -ever had of him money for a suit of clothes? What Constable ever lodged -him in his Castle, and made him pay his shot? What King hath not placed -him at his own table? And, finally, what Knight Errant was there ever, -is, or shall be in the world, who hath not the courage himself alone to -give four hundred cudgellings to four hundred officers if they stand in -his way?' - -Whilst Don Quixote raved in this way, the Curate was trying to persuade -the troopers that Don Quixote was out of his wits, and that even if -they did arrest him they would have to release him afterwards, as he -was a madman. - -'Indeed,' said the Curate, 'you must not take him, nor do I believe -that he will let himself be taken.' - -The officers were with difficulty persuaded to this view, but they had -seen enough of Don Quixote to convince them of his madness, and in the -end they agreed that it was better the Curate should endeavour, as he -proposed, to take him to his home, than that they should arrest him at -the risk of their lives. - -The dispute between Sancho and the Barber was now easily settled, for -there was very little left of the pannel for Sancho to keep; and the -Curate, without Don Quixote knowing anything of it, gave the Barber -eight _reals_ for the price of his basin, so that they should hear -nothing further of the dispute of Mambrino's helmet. - - - - - [Illustration: THE MANNER OF DON QUIXOTE'S RETURN HOME] - - - - - CHAPTER XXX - - In which is finished the notable Adventures - of our good Knight - - -The Curate and Don Fernando now took the Innkeeper aside and settled -all his claims against Don Quixote, for he had sworn that neither -Rozinante nor Sancho's Ass should stir from the Inn until he was paid -to the last farthing. As for Don Quixote, as soon as he found himself -free from all the quarrels by which he had been surrounded, he held it -high time to begin his voyage and bring to an end the great adventure -unto which he was called and chosen. - -Therefore, having made up his mind to depart, he went and cast himself -upon his knees before Dorothea and said: 'I cannot but think, high and -worthy Lady, that our abode in this Castle is nothing profitable, and -may turn out to our disadvantage. For who knows but that your enemy -the Giant hath learned by spies or other secret means how I intend to -come and destroy him, and he may by now have fortified himself in some -impregnable Castle or Fortress, against the strength of which even the -force of mine invincible arm will be of little use. Therefore, dear -Lady, let us by our diligence hinder his plans, and let us depart to -the place where fortune calls us.' - -Don Quixote said no more but awaited the answer of the beautiful -Princess, who, with a lordly air and in a style not unworthy of Don -Quixote himself, replied as follows: 'I thank you, Sir Knight, for the -desire you show to assist me in this my great need, and I trust your -desires and mine may succeed, that I may show you that there are some -thankful women on earth. As for my departure, let it be as you wish, -for I have no other will than that which is yours. Therefore dispose of -me at your own pleasure, for she that hath once given the defence of -her person unto you, and hath put into your hand the recovery of her -estate, ought not to seek to do any other thing but that which your -wisdom shall suggest.' - -'Let our departure, then,' said Don Quixote, 'be immediate. Saddle me -Rozinante, Sancho, and get ready your Ass and the Queen's palfrey, and -let us take leave of the Constable and these other lords and depart -instantly.' - -Sancho, who was present at all this, stood wagging his head from side -to side, and said: 'O my Lord, my Lord, how much more knavery is there -in the little village than is talked of!' - -'What can be noised abroad in any village or in any of the cities of -the world to my discredit, villain?' asked his Master angrily. - -'If you are angry,' said Sancho, 'I will hold my tongue and omit to say -that which by the duty of a good Squire, and an honest servant, I am -bound to tell you.' - -'Say what thou wilt,' said Don Quixote, and he waited to hear what his -Squire had to say. - -'What I mean,' continued Sancho, 'and what I hold for most sure and -certain is, that this Lady, who calls herself Queen of the great -Kingdom of Micomicona, is no more a Queen than my mother. For if she -were what she says, she would not at every corner be billing and cooing -with one that is in this good company.' - -Dorothea blushed at Sancho's words, for it was true indeed that her -lover Don Fernando had sometimes on the sly gathered from her lips the -reward of his affections. She was neither able nor willing to answer -Sancho a word, but let him go on with his speech, which he did as -follows:— - -'This I say, good my Lord, to this end, that if after we have travelled -highways and byways and endured bad nights and worse days, he that is -in this Inn,' and Sancho looked knowingly at Don Fernando, 'shall marry -our Princess and get the fruits of your labours, there is no need to -hasten, methinks, to saddle Rozinante or harness Dapple, or make ready -the palfrey seeing it would be better that we stayed still and looked -after our dinner.' - -You may imagine how great was the fury that inflamed Don Quixote when -he heard his Squire speak so rudely. It was so great that, with a -shaking voice, a faltering tongue, and the fire sparking out of his -eyes, he said: 'O villainous peasant, rash, unmannerly, ignorant, rude, -foul-mouthed backbiter and slanderer! Darest thou utter such words -in my presence and in that of these noble Ladies? Hast thou dared to -entertain such rash and stupid fancies in thy muddled imagination? -Out of my sight, monster of nature, storehouse of untruth, armoury of -falsehood, sink of roguery, inventor of villainy, publisher of ravings, -enemy of the respect due to Royal persons. Away, villain, and never -more appear before me on pain of my wrath.' - -So saying, he bent his brows and glared around on every side as he -struck a mighty blow upon the ground with his right foot. And at these -words and furious gestures, poor Sancho was so greatly frightened, that -he could have wished in that instant that the earth opening under his -feet would swallow him up. - -But the witty Dorothea, who now understood Don Quixote's humour -perfectly, to appease his anger spoke to him thus: 'Be not offended, -good Sir Knight of the Rueful Countenance, at the idle words your good -Squire hath spoken. For perhaps he hath not said them without some -ground, and we cannot suspect from a man of his good understanding that -he would knowingly slander or accuse any one falsely. And therefore -we must believe that without doubt, as you have yourself said, Sir -Knight, in this Castle all things are subject to enchantment, and it -might well happen that Sancho may have been deceived by some wicked -illusion.' - -'I vow,' cried Don Quixote, 'that your Highness has hit the truth, and -that some evil vision appeared to this sinner, my man Sancho, that made -him see things that he could not have seen unless by enchantment. For -I also know very well, that the great goodness and simplicity of the -poor wretch is such, that he knows not how to invent a lie on anybody -living.' - -'It is even so,' said Don Fernando; 'and therefore, good Sir Don -Quixote, you must pardon him and take him once more to the bosom of -your grace.' - -Don Quixote answered that he did willingly pardon him; and Sancho, -kneeling down on his knees, humbly asked his Lord's hand, which he -gave to him. And after he had permitted him to kiss it, he gave him -his blessing, saying: 'Now thou shalt finally know, Sancho, that which -I have told thee many times, how that all things in this Castle come -about by means of enchantment.' - -And this Sancho was ready to believe of everything except the tossing -they had given him in the blanket, for he well knew that he had been -tossed by persons of flesh and blood and bone, and not by visionary and -unreal phantoms and shadows, as his Master was always telling him. - -Two days passed, when it seemed to all the noble company at the Inn -that it was time to depart, and they considered how, without putting -Dorothea and Don Fernando to the pain of turning back with Don Quixote -to his village, the Curate and the Barber could carry him home as they -desired, and leave him cured of his folly in his own home. - -This was the plan they decided on. They made a bargain with a wagoner, -who chanced to pass by that way with a team of oxen, to carry him in -the following manner:— - -They made a thing like a cage of timber, so big that Don Quixote might -sit or lie in it at his ease, and presently Don Fernando, Cardenio, -their companions, and the Innkeeper did all, by Master Curate's -directions, cover their faces and disguise themselves as well as they -could, so that they might seem to Don Quixote to be different persons -to any he had seen in the Castle. This being done, they entered -silently into the place where he slept, reposing after his recent -battles. They went up to him as he was sleeping peacefully, not fearing -any such accident, and, laying hold of him forcibly, they tied his -hands and feet very strongly, so that when he started out of his sleep -he could not move, nor do anything else but stare and wonder at the -strange faces that he saw before him. - -And immediately he fell into the idea, which his wild imagination had -at once suggested to him, that all these strange figures were spirits -and phantoms of that enchanted Castle, and he believed that he himself -was without doubt enchanted, seeing that he could neither move nor -defend himself. - -All happened as the Curate who plotted the jest expected; and after -they had brought him to the cage, they shut him within, and afterwards -nailed the bars thereof so well that they could not easily be broken. -Sancho all this time looked on in wonder to see what would happen to -his Master. - -Then the phantoms mounted him upon their shoulders, and as he was -carried out of his chamber door the Barber called out in as terrible a -voice as he could muster: 'O Knight of the Rueful Countenance, be not -grieved at thine imprisonment, for so it must be that thine adventures -be more speedily ended. And thou, O most noble and obedient Squire that -ever had sword at girdle, beard on a face, or dent in a nose, let it -not dismay thee to see carried away thus the flower of all Knighthood. -For I assure thee that all thy wages shall be paid to thee, if thou -wilt follow in the steps of this valorous and enchanted Knight. And as -I am not allowed to say more, farewell!' - -Don Quixote listened attentively to all this prophecy, and said: 'O -thou, whatsoever thou beest, I desire thee to request in my name -that I may not perish in this prison before my work is ended. And as -concerns my Squire Sancho Panza, I trust in his goodness that he will -not abandon me in good or bad fortune. For, though it should fall out -through his or my hard lot that I shall not be able to bestow on him an -Island, as I have promised, his wages cannot be lost to him, for in my -Will, which is made already, I have set down what he is to have for his -many good services.' - -Sancho Panza bowed his head with great reverence when he heard this, -and kissed both his Master's hands, which were bound tightly together. -Then the phantoms lifted up the cage and hoisted it on to the wagon -that was drawn by the team of oxen. - -After bidding farewell to all their friends, the procession started. -First went the cart guided by the carter, then the troopers, then -followed Sancho upon his Ass leading Rozinante by the bridle, and last -of all the Curate and the Barber, riding their mighty mules, with masks -on their faces. - -Don Quixote sat with his hands tied and his legs stretched out, leaning -against a bar of the cage, with such a silence and such patience -that he seemed rather to be a statue than a man. And thus at an -Alderman-like pace, such as suited the slow steps of the heavy oxen, -they journeyed home. - -At the end of two days they arrived at Don Quixote's village, into -which they entered about noon. This was on a Sunday, when all the -people were in the market-place, through the midst of which Don -Quixote's cart passed. All drew near to see what was in it, and when -they knew their neighbour they were greatly astounded. A little boy ran -home before, to tell the old woman and the Niece that their Lord and -Uncle was returned. It would have moved one to pity to have heard the -cries and lamentations the two good women made, and the curses they -poured out against all Books of Knighthood, when they saw Don Quixote -enter the gates of his own house again in so strange a carriage. - -Sancho Panza's wife, when she heard of his return, ran forward to meet -her husband, and the first question she asked was whether the Ass were -in health or no. - -Sancho answered that he was come in better health than his master. - -'Tell me, then,' cried his wife, 'what profit hast thou reaped by this -Squireship? What petticoat hast thou brought me home? What shoes for -the little boys?' - -'I bring none of these things, good wife,' replied Sancho, 'though I -bring things better thought of and of greater moment.' - -'I am glad of that,' said his wife, 'for I should like to see them, -to the end that my heart may be cheered, which hath been swollen and -sorrowful for so long, all the time of thine absence.' - -'Thou shalt see them at home,' said Sancho, 'therefore rest satisfied. -For when we travel once again to seek adventures, thou shalt see me -shortly afterwards an Earl or Governor of an Island, one of the best in -the world.' - -'I pray that it may be so,' replied his wife; 'but what means that -Island, for I understand not the word?' - -'Honey is not made for the ass's mouth,' said Sancho, 'but thou shalt -know all in good time. Do not busy thyself, Joan, to know all things -in a sudden. It is enough that I will tell thee all the truth, and -therefore close thy mouth. I will only say this much unto thee as yet, -that there is nothing in the world so pleasant as for an honest man to -be the Squire of a Knight that seeks adventures.' - - * * * * * - -Now, if I were to tell you that Don Quixote got quite well and lived -quietly at home after all these adventures, and never went abroad -again, I should tell you what is not true. For some day, and I hope at -no great distance of time, you may read what the great Cervantes has -written, not only of the adventures of which I have told you the story, -but of the second part of Don Quixote's adventures, some of which are -even more wonderful than the first. There you will learn how Sancho -Panza became at last Governor of an Island for a short space, and may -read of the great wisdom and shrewdness with which he ruled. - -All these good things will be yours to read some day, as they have -been mine and are every one's. For, like all the really great stories -of the world, this of Don Quixote belongs to no nation or people, but -is the property of each and all of us, given us freely to enjoy it how -and where we will. And from the humour and wisdom of such books we may -become brighter and better ourselves. So that when I wish that you -may be able to love and honour all such books, and to read this one -as Cervantes wrote it, and with the care it deserves to be read, it -is the best wish I can give you. And, indeed, to wish you the gift of -understanding it, is the same thing as wishing you a happy life. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Don Qvixote of the Mancha, by Judge Parry - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DON QVIXOTE OF THE MANCHA *** - -***** This file should be named 55106-0.txt or 55106-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/1/0/55106/ - -Produced by Chris Curnow, Nahum Maso i Carcases and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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