The Project Gutenberg EBook of The History of Don Quixote, Vol. II., Part
21, by Miguel de Cervantes
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Title: The History of Don Quixote, Vol. II., Part 21
Author: Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
Release Date: July 22, 2004 [EBook #5924]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DON QUIXOTE, PART 21 ***
Produced by David Widger
DON QUIXOTE
Volume II.
Part 21.
by Miguel de Cervantes
Translated by John Ormsby
CHAPTER XI.
OF THE STRANGE ADVENTURE WHICH THE VALIANT DON QUIXOTE HAD WITH THE CAR
OR CART OF "THE CORTES OF DEATH"
Dejected beyond measure did Don Quixote pursue his journey, turning over
in his mind the cruel trick the enchanters had played him in changing his
lady Dulcinea into the vile shape of the village lass, nor could he think
of any way of restoring her to her original form; and these reflections
so absorbed him, that without being aware of it he let go Rocinante's
bridle, and he, perceiving the liberty that was granted him, stopped at
every step to crop the fresh grass with which the plain abounded.
Sancho recalled him from his reverie. "Melancholy, senor," said he, "was
made, not for beasts, but for men; but if men give way to it overmuch
they turn to beasts; control yourself, your worship; be yourself again;
gather up Rocinante's reins; cheer up, rouse yourself and show that
gallant spirit that knights-errant ought to have. What the devil is this?
What weakness is this? Are we here or in France? The devil fly away with
all the Dulcineas in the world; for the well-being of a single
knight-errant is of more consequence than all the enchantments and
transformations on earth."
"Hush, Sancho," said Don Quixote in a weak and faint voice, "hush and
utter no blasphemies against that enchanted lady; for I alone am to blame
for her misfortune and hard fate; her calamity has come of the hatred the
wicked bear me."
"So say I," returned Sancho; "his heart rend in twain, I trow, who saw
her once, to see her now."
"Thou mayest well say that, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "as thou sawest
her in the full perfection of her beauty; for the enchantment does not go
so far as to pervert thy vision or hide her loveliness from thee; against
me alone and against my eyes is the strength of its venom directed.
Nevertheless, there is one thing which has occurred to me, and that is
that thou didst ill describe her beauty to me, for, as well as I
recollect, thou saidst that her eyes were pearls; but eyes that are like
pearls are rather the eyes of a sea-bream than of a lady, and I am
persuaded that Dulcinea's must be green emeralds, full and soft, with two
rainbows for eyebrows; take away those pearls from her eyes and transfer
them to her teeth; for beyond a doubt, Sancho, thou hast taken the one
for the other, the eyes for the teeth."
"Very likely," said Sancho; "for her beauty bewildered me as much as her
ugliness did your worship; but let us leave it all to God, who alone
knows what is to happen in this vale of tears, in this evil world of
ours, where there is hardly a thing to be found without some mixture of
wickedness, roguery, and rascality. But one thing, senor, troubles me
more than all the rest, and that is thinking what is to be done when your
worship conquers some giant, or some other knight, and orders him to go
and present himself before the beauty of the lady Dulcinea. Where is this
poor giant, or this poor wretch of a vanquished knight, to find her? I
think I can see them wandering all over El Toboso, looking like noddies,
and asking for my lady Dulcinea; and even if they meet her in the middle
of the street they won't know her any more than they would my father."
"Perhaps, Sancho," returned Don Quixote, "the enchantment does not go so
far as to deprive conquered and presented giants and knights of the power
of recognising Dulcinea; we will try by experiment with one or two of the
first I vanquish and send to her, whether they see her or not, by
commanding them to return and give me an account of what happened to them
in this respect."
"I declare, I think what your worship has proposed is excellent," said
Sancho; "and that by this plan we shall find out what we want to know;
and if it be that it is only from your worship she is hidden, the
misfortune will be more yours than hers; but so long as the lady Dulcinea
is well and happy, we on our part will make the best of it, and get on as
well as we can, seeking our adventures, and leaving Time to take his own
course; for he is the best physician for these and greater ailments."
Don Quixote was about to reply to Sancho Panza, but he was prevented by a
cart crossing the road full of the most diverse and strange personages
and figures that could be imagined. He who led the mules and acted as
carter was a hideous demon; the cart was open to the sky, without a tilt
or cane roof, and the first figure that presented itself to Don Quixote's
eyes was that of Death itself with a human face; next to it was an angel
with large painted wings, and at one side an emperor, with a crown, to
all appearance of gold, on his head. At the feet of Death was the god
called Cupid, without his bandage, but with his bow, quiver, and arrows;
there was also a knight in full armour, except that he had no morion or
helmet, but only a hat decked with plumes of divers colours; and along
with these there were others with a variety of costumes and faces. All
this, unexpectedly encountered, took Don Quixote somewhat aback, and
struck terror into the heart of Sancho; but the next instant Don Quixote
was glad of it, believing that some new perilous adventure was presenting
itself to him, and under this impression, and with a spirit prepared to
face any danger, he planted himself in front of the cart, and in a loud
and menacing tone, exclaimed, "Carter, or coachman, or devil, or whatever
thou art, tell me at once who thou art, whither thou art going, and who
these folk are thou carriest in thy wagon, which looks more like Charon's
boat than an ordinary cart."
To which the devil, stopping the cart, answered quietly, "Senor, we are
players of Angulo el Malo's company; we have been acting the play of 'The
Cortes of Death' this morning, which is the octave of Corpus Christi, in
a village behind that hill, and we have to act it this afternoon in that
village which you can see from this; and as it is so near, and to save
the trouble of undressing and dressing again, we go in the costumes in
which we perform. That lad there appears as Death, that other as an
angel, that woman, the manager's wife, plays the queen, this one the
soldier, that the emperor, and I the devil; and I am one of the principal
characters of the play, for in this company I take the leading parts. If
you want to know anything more about us, ask me and I will answer with
the utmost exactitude, for as I am a devil I am up to everything."
"By the faith of a knight-errant," replied Don Quixote, "when I saw this
cart I fancied some great adventure was presenting itself to me; but I
declare one must touch with the hand what appears to the eye, if
illusions are to be avoided. God speed you, good people; keep your
festival, and remember, if you demand of me ought wherein I can render
you a service, I will do it gladly and willingly, for from a child I was
fond of the play, and in my youth a keen lover of the actor's art."
While they were talking, fate so willed it that one of the company in a
mummers' dress with a great number of bells, and armed with three blown
ox-bladders at the end of a stick, joined them, and this merry-andrew
approaching Don Quixote, began flourishing his stick and banging the
ground with the bladders and cutting capers with great jingling of the
bells, which untoward apparition so startled Rocinante that, in spite of
Don Quixote's efforts to hold him in, taking the bit between his teeth he
set off across the plain with greater speed than the bones of his anatomy
ever gave any promise of.
Sancho, who thought his master was in danger of being thrown, jumped off
Dapple, and ran in all haste to help him; but by the time he reached him
he was already on the ground, and beside him was Rocinante, who had come
down with his master, the usual end and upshot of Rocinante's vivacity
and high spirits. But the moment Sancho quitted his beast to go and help
Don Quixote, the dancing devil with the bladders jumped up on Dapple, and
beating him with them, more by the fright and the noise than by the pain
of the blows, made him fly across the fields towards the village where
they were going to hold their festival. Sancho witnessed Dapple's career
and his master's fall, and did not know which of the two cases of need he
should attend to first; but in the end, like a good squire and good
servant, he let his love for his master prevail over his affection for
his ass; though every time he saw the bladders rise in the air and come
down on the hind quarters of his Dapple he felt the pains and terrors of
death, and he would have rather had the blows fall on the apples of his
own eyes than on the least hair of his ass's tail. In this trouble and
perplexity he came to where Don Quixote lay in a far sorrier plight than
he liked, and having helped him to mount Rocinante, he said to him,
"Senor, the devil has carried off my Dapple."
"What devil?" asked Don Quixote.
"The one with the bladders," said Sancho.
"Then I will recover him," said Don Quixote, "even if he be shut up with
him in the deepest and darkest dungeons of hell. Follow me, Sancho, for
the cart goes slowly, and with the mules of it I will make good the loss
of Dapple."
"You need not take the trouble, senor," said Sancho; "keep cool, for as I
now see, the devil has let Dapple go and he is coming back to his old
quarters;" and so it turned out, for, having come down with Dapple, in
imitation of Don Quixote and Rocinante, the devil made off on foot to the
town, and the ass came back to his master.
"For all that," said Don Quixote, "it will be well to visit the
discourtesy of that devil upon some of those in the cart, even if it were
the emperor himself."
"Don't think of it, your worship," returned Sancho; "take my advice and
never meddle with actors, for they are a favoured class; I myself have
known an actor taken up for two murders, and yet come off scot-free;
remember that, as they are merry folk who give pleasure, everyone favours
and protects them, and helps and makes much of them, above all when they
are those of the royal companies and under patent, all or most of whom in
dress and appearance look like princes."
"Still, for all that," said Don Quixote, "the player devil must not go
off boasting, even if the whole human race favours him."
So saying, he made for the cart, which was now very near the town,
shouting out as he went, "Stay! halt! ye merry, jovial crew! I want to
teach you how to treat asses and animals that serve the squires of
knights-errant for steeds."
So loud were the shouts of Don Quixote, that those in the cart heard and
understood them, and, guessing by the words what the speaker's intention
was, Death in an instant jumped out of the cart, and the emperor, the
devil carter and the angel after him, nor did the queen or the god Cupid
stay behind; and all armed themselves with stones and formed in line,
prepared to receive Don Quixote on the points of their pebbles. Don
Quixote, when he saw them drawn up in such a gallant array with uplifted
arms ready for a mighty discharge of stones, checked Rocinante and began
to consider in what way he could attack them with the least danger to
himself. As he halted Sancho came up, and seeing him disposed to attack
this well-ordered squadron, said to him, "It would be the height of
madness to attempt such an enterprise; remember, senor, that against sops
from the brook, and plenty of them, there is no defensive armour in the
world, except to stow oneself away under a brass bell; and besides, one
should remember that it is rashness, and not valour, for a single man to
attack an army that has Death in it, and where emperors fight in person,
with angels, good and bad, to help them; and if this reflection will not
make you keep quiet, perhaps it will to know for certain that among all
these, though they look like kings, princes, and emperors, there is not a
single knight-errant."
"Now indeed thou hast hit the point, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "which
may and should turn me from the resolution I had already formed. I cannot
and must not draw sword, as I have many a time before told thee, against
anyone who is not a dubbed knight; it is for thee, Sancho, if thou wilt,
to take vengeance for the wrong done to thy Dapple; and I will help thee
from here by shouts and salutary counsels."
"There is no occasion to take vengeance on anyone, senor," replied
Sancho; "for it is not the part of good Christians to revenge wrongs; and
besides, I will arrange it with my ass to leave his grievance to my
good-will and pleasure, and that is to live in peace as long as heaven
grants me life."
"Well," said Don Quixote, "if that be thy determination, good Sancho,
sensible Sancho, Christian Sancho, honest Sancho, let us leave these
phantoms alone and turn to the pursuit of better and worthier adventures;
for, from what I see of this country, we cannot fail to find plenty of
marvellous ones in it."
He at once wheeled about, Sancho ran to take possession of his Dapple,
Death and his flying squadron returned to their cart and pursued their
journey, and thus the dread adventure of the cart of Death ended happily,
thanks to the advice Sancho gave his master; who had, the following day,
a fresh adventure, of no less thrilling interest than the last, with an
enamoured knight-errant.
CHAPTER XII.
OF THE STRANGE ADVENTURE WHICH BEFELL THE VALIANT DON QUIXOTE WITH THE
BOLD KNIGHT OF THE MIRRORS
The night succeeding the day of the encounter with Death, Don Quixote and
his squire passed under some tall shady trees, and Don Quixote at
Sancho's persuasion ate a little from the store carried by Dapple, and
over their supper Sancho said to his master, "Senor, what a fool I should
have looked if I had chosen for my reward the spoils of the first
adventure your worship achieved, instead of the foals of the three mares.
After all, 'a sparrow in the hand is better than a vulture on the wing.'"
"At the same time, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "if thou hadst let me
attack them as I wanted, at the very least the emperor's gold crown and
Cupid's painted wings would have fallen to thee as spoils, for I should
have taken them by force and given them into thy hands."
"The sceptres and crowns of those play-actor emperors," said Sancho,
"were never yet pure gold, but only brass foil or tin."
"That is true," said Don Quixote, "for it would not be right that the
accessories of the drama should be real, instead of being mere fictions
and semblances, like the drama itself; towards which, Sancho-and, as a
necessary consequence, towards those who represent and produce it--I
would that thou wert favourably disposed, for they are all instruments of
great good to the State, placing before us at every step a mirror in
which we may see vividly displayed what goes on in human life; nor is
there any similitude that shows us more faithfully what we are and ought
to be than the play and the players. Come, tell me, hast thou not seen a
play acted in which kings, emperors, pontiffs, knights, ladies, and
divers other personages were introduced? One plays the villain, another
the knave, this one the merchant, that the soldier, one the sharp-witted
fool, another the foolish lover; and when the play is over, and they have
put off the dresses they wore in it, all the actors become equal."
"Yes, I have seen that," said Sancho.
"Well then," said Don Quixote, "the same thing happens in the comedy and
life of this world, where some play emperors, others popes, and, in
short, all the characters that can be brought into a play; but when it is
over, that is to say when life ends, death strips them all of the
garments that distinguish one from the other, and all are equal in the
grave."
"A fine comparison!" said Sancho; "though not so new but that I have
heard it many and many a time, as well as that other one of the game of
chess; how, so long as the game lasts, each piece has its own particular
office, and when the game is finished they are all mixed, jumbled up and
shaken together, and stowed away in the bag, which is much like ending
life in the grave."
"Thou art growing less doltish and more shrewd every day, Sancho," said
Don Quixote.
"Ay," said Sancho; "it must be that some of your worship's shrewdness
sticks to me; land that, of itself, is barren and dry, will come to yield
good fruit if you dung it and till it; what I mean is that your worship's
conversation has been the dung that has fallen on the barren soil of my
dry wit, and the time I have been in your service and society has been
the tillage; and with the help of this I hope to yield fruit in abundance
that will not fall away or slide from those paths of good breeding that
your worship has made in my parched understanding."
Don Quixote laughed at Sancho's affected phraseology, and perceived that
what he said about his improvement was true, for now and then he spoke in
a way that surprised him; though always, or mostly, when Sancho tried to
talk fine and attempted polite language, he wound up by toppling over
from the summit of his simplicity into the abyss of his ignorance; and
where he showed his culture and his memory to the greatest advantage was
in dragging in proverbs, no matter whether they had any bearing or not
upon the subject in hand, as may have been seen already and will be
noticed in the course of this history.
In conversation of this kind they passed a good part of the night, but
Sancho felt a desire to let down the curtains of his eyes, as he used to
say when he wanted to go to sleep; and stripping Dapple he left him at
liberty to graze his fill. He did not remove Rocinante's saddle, as his
master's express orders were, that so long as they were in the field or
not sleeping under a roof Rocinante was not to be stripped--the ancient
usage established and observed by knights-errant being to take off the
bridle and hang it on the saddle-bow, but to remove the saddle from the
horse--never! Sancho acted accordingly, and gave him the same liberty he
had given Dapple, between whom and Rocinante there was a friendship so
unequalled and so strong, that it is handed down by tradition from father
to son, that the author of this veracious history devoted some special
chapters to it, which, in order to preserve the propriety and decorum due
to a history so heroic, he did not insert therein; although at times he
forgets this resolution of his and describes how eagerly the two beasts
would scratch one another when they were together and how, when they were
tired or full, Rocinante would lay his neck across Dapple's, stretching
half a yard or more on the other side, and the pair would stand thus,
gazing thoughtfully on the ground, for three days, or at least so long as
they were left alone, or hunger did not drive them to go and look for
food. I may add that they say the author left it on record that he
likened their friendship to that of Nisus and Euryalus, and Pylades and
Orestes; and if that be so, it may be perceived, to the admiration of
mankind, how firm the friendship must have been between these two
peaceful animals, shaming men, who preserve friendships with one another
so badly. This was why it was said--
For friend no longer is there friend;
The reeds turn lances now.
And some one else has sung--
Friend to friend the bug, etc.
And let no one fancy that the author was at all astray when he compared
the friendship of these animals to that of men; for men have received
many lessons from beasts, and learned many important things, as, for
example, the clyster from the stork, vomit and gratitude from the dog,
watchfulness from the crane, foresight from the ant, modesty from the
elephant, and loyalty from the horse.
Sancho at last fell asleep at the foot of a cork tree, while Don Quixote
dozed at that of a sturdy oak; but a short time only had elapsed when a
noise he heard behind him awoke him, and rising up startled, he listened
and looked in the direction the noise came from, and perceived two men on
horseback, one of whom, letting himself drop from the saddle, said to the
other, "Dismount, my friend, and take the bridles off the horses, for, so
far as I can see, this place will furnish grass for them, and the
solitude and silence my love-sick thoughts need of." As he said this he
stretched himself upon the ground, and as he flung himself down, the
armour in which he was clad rattled, whereby Don Quixote perceived that
he must be a knight-errant; and going over to Sancho, who was asleep, he
shook him by the arm and with no small difficulty brought him back to his
senses, and said in a low voice to him, "Brother Sancho, we have got an
adventure."
"God send us a good one," said Sancho; "and where may her ladyship the
adventure be?"
"Where, Sancho?" replied Don Quixote; "turn thine eyes and look, and thou
wilt see stretched there a knight-errant, who, it strikes me, is not over
and above happy, for I saw him fling himself off his horse and throw
himself on the ground with a certain air of dejection, and his armour
rattled as he fell."
"Well," said Sancho, "how does your worship make out that to be an
adventure?"
"I do not mean to say," returned Don Quixote, "that it is a complete
adventure, but that it is the beginning of one, for it is in this way
adventures begin. But listen, for it seems he is tuning a lute or guitar,
and from the way he is spitting and clearing his chest he must be getting
ready to sing something."
"Faith, you are right," said Sancho, "and no doubt he is some enamoured
knight."
"There is no knight-errant that is not," said Don Quixote; "but let us
listen to him, for, if he sings, by that thread we shall extract the ball
of his thoughts; because out of the abundance of the heart the mouth
speaketh."
Sancho was about to reply to his master, but the Knight of the Grove's
voice, which was neither very bad nor very good, stopped him, and
listening attentively the pair heard him sing this
SONNET
Your pleasure, prithee, lady mine, unfold;
Declare the terms that I am to obey;
My will to yours submissively I mould,
And from your law my feet shall never stray.
Would you I die, to silent grief a prey?
Then count me even now as dead and cold;
Would you I tell my woes in some new way?
Then shall my tale by Love itself be told.
The unison of opposites to prove,
Of the soft wax and diamond hard am I;
But still, obedient to the laws of love,
Here, hard or soft, I offer you my breast,
Whate'er you grave or stamp thereon shall rest
Indelible for all eternity.
With an "Ah me!" that seemed to be drawn from the inmost recesses of his
heart, the Knight of the Grove brought his lay to an end, and shortly
afterwards exclaimed in a melancholy and piteous voice, "O fairest and
most ungrateful woman on earth! What! can it be, most serene Casildea de
Vandalia, that thou wilt suffer this thy captive knight to waste away and
perish in ceaseless wanderings and rude and arduous toils? It is not
enough that I have compelled all the knights of Navarre, all the Leonese,
all the Tartesians, all the Castilians, and finally all the knights of La
Mancha, to confess thee the most beautiful in the world?"
"Not so," said Don Quixote at this, "for I am of La Mancha, and I have
never confessed anything of the sort, nor could I nor should I confess a
thing so much to the prejudice of my lady's beauty; thou seest how this
knight is raving, Sancho. But let us listen, perhaps he will tell us more
about himself."
"That he will," returned Sancho, "for he seems in a mood to bewail
himself for a month at a stretch."
But this was not the case, for the Knight of the Grove, hearing voices
near him, instead of continuing his lamentation, stood up and exclaimed
in a distinct but courteous tone, "Who goes there? What are you? Do you
belong to the number of the happy or of the miserable?"
"Of the miserable," answered Don Quixote.
"Then come to me," said he of the Grove, "and rest assured that it is to
woe itself and affliction itself you come."
Don Quixote, finding himself answered in such a soft and courteous
manner, went over to him, and so did Sancho.
The doleful knight took Don Quixote by the arm, saying, "Sit down here,
sir knight; for, that you are one, and of those that profess
knight-errantry, it is to me a sufficient proof to have found you in this
place, where solitude and night, the natural couch and proper retreat of
knights-errant, keep you company." To which Don made answer, "A knight I
am of the profession you mention, and though sorrows, misfortunes, and
calamities have made my heart their abode, the compassion I feel for the
misfortunes of others has not been thereby banished from it. From what
you have just now sung I gather that yours spring from love, I mean from
the love you bear that fair ingrate you named in your lament."
In the meantime, they had seated themselves together on the hard ground
peaceably and sociably, just as if, as soon as day broke, they were not
going to break one another's heads.
"Are you, sir knight, in love perchance?" asked he of the Grove of Don
Quixote.
"By mischance I am," replied Don Quixote; "though the ills arising from
well-bestowed affections should be esteemed favours rather than
misfortunes."
"That is true," returned he of the Grove, "if scorn did not unsettle our
reason and understanding, for if it be excessive it looks like revenge."
"I was never scorned by my lady," said Don Quixote.
"Certainly not," said Sancho, who stood close by, "for my lady is as a
lamb, and softer than a roll of butter."
"Is this your squire?" asked he of the Grove.
"He is," said Don Quixote.
"I never yet saw a squire," said he of the Grove, "who ventured to speak
when his master was speaking; at least, there is mine, who is as big as
his father, and it cannot be proved that he has ever opened his lips when
I am speaking."
"By my faith then," said Sancho, "I have spoken, and am fit to speak, in
the presence of one as much, or even--but never mind--it only makes it
worse to stir it."
The squire of the Grove took Sancho by the arm, saying to him, "Let us
two go where we can talk in squire style as much as we please, and leave
these gentlemen our masters to fight it out over the story of their
loves; and, depend upon it, daybreak will find them at it without having
made an end of it."
"So be it by all means," said Sancho; "and I will tell your worship who I
am, that you may see whether I am to be reckoned among the number of the
most talkative squires."
With this the two squires withdrew to one side, and between them there
passed a conversation as droll as that which passed between their masters
was serious.
CHAPTER XIII.
IN WHICH IS CONTINUED THE ADVENTURE OF THE KNIGHT OF THE GROVE, TOGETHER
WITH THE SENSIBLE, ORIGINAL, AND TRANQUIL COLLOQUY THAT PASSED BETWEEN
THE TWO SQUIRES
The knights and the squires made two parties, these telling the story of
their lives, the others the story of their loves; but the history relates
first of all the conversation of the servants, and afterwards takes up
that of the masters; and it says that, withdrawing a little from the
others, he of the Grove said to Sancho, "A hard life it is we lead and
live, senor, we that are squires to knights-errant; verily, we eat our
bread in the sweat of our faces, which is one of the curses God laid on
our first parents."
"It may be said, too," added Sancho, "that we eat it in the chill of our
bodies; for who gets more heat and cold than the miserable squires of
knight-errantry? Even so it would not be so bad if we had something to
eat, for woes are lighter if there's bread; but sometimes we go a day or
two without breaking our fast, except with the wind that blows."
"All that," said he of the Grove, "may be endured and put up with when we
have hopes of reward; for, unless the knight-errant he serves is
excessively unlucky, after a few turns the squire will at least find
himself rewarded with a fine government of some island or some fair
county."
"I," said Sancho, "have already told my master that I shall be content
with the government of some island, and he is so noble and generous that
he has promised it to me ever so many times."
"I," said he of the Grove, "shall be satisfied with a canonry for my
services, and my master has already assigned me one."
"Your master," said Sancho, "no doubt is a knight in the Church line, and
can bestow rewards of that sort on his good squire; but mine is only a
layman; though I remember some clever, but, to my mind, designing people,
strove to persuade him to try and become an archbishop. He, however,
would not be anything but an emperor; but I was trembling all the time
lest he should take a fancy to go into the Church, not finding myself fit
to hold office in it; for I may tell you, though I seem a man, I am no
better than a beast for the Church."
"Well, then, you are wrong there," said he of the Grove; "for those
island governments are not all satisfactory; some are awkward, some are
poor, some are dull, and, in short, the highest and choicest brings with
it a heavy burden of cares and troubles which the unhappy wight to whose
lot it has fallen bears upon his shoulders. Far better would it be for us
who have adopted this accursed service to go back to our own houses, and
there employ ourselves in pleasanter occupations--in hunting or fishing,
for instance; for what squire in the world is there so poor as not to
have a hack and a couple of greyhounds and a fishingrod to amuse himself
with in his own village?"
"I am not in want of any of those things," said Sancho; "to be sure I
have no hack, but I have an ass that is worth my master's horse twice
over; God send me a bad Easter, and that the next one I am to see, if I
would swap, even if I got four bushels of barley to boot. You will laugh
at the value I put on my Dapple--for dapple is the colour of my beast. As
to greyhounds, I can't want for them, for there are enough and to spare
in my town; and, moreover, there is more pleasure in sport when it is at
other people's expense."
"In truth and earnest, sir squire," said he of the Grove, "I have made up
my mind and determined to have done with these drunken vagaries of these
knights, and go back to my village, and bring up my children; for I have
three, like three Oriental pearls."
"I have two," said Sancho, "that might be presented before the Pope
himself, especially a girl whom I am breeding up for a countess, please
God, though in spite of her mother."
"And how old is this lady that is being bred up for a countess?" asked he
of the Grove.
"Fifteen, a couple of years more or less," answered Sancho; "but she is
as tall as a lance, and as fresh as an April morning, and as strong as a
porter."
"Those are gifts to fit her to be not only a countess but a nymph of the
greenwood," said he of the Grove; "whoreson strumpet! what pith the rogue
must have!"
To which Sancho made answer, somewhat sulkily, "She's no strumpet, nor
was her mother, nor will either of them be, please God, while I live;
speak more civilly; for one bred up among knights-errant, who are
courtesy itself, your words don't seem to me to be very becoming."
"O how little you know about compliments, sir squire," returned he of the
Grove. "What! don't you know that when a horseman delivers a good lance
thrust at the bull in the plaza, or when anyone does anything very well,
the people are wont to say, 'Ha, whoreson rip! how well he has done it!'
and that what seems to be abuse in the expression is high praise? Disown
sons and daughters, senor, who don't do what deserves that compliments of
this sort should be paid to their parents."
"I do disown them," replied Sancho, "and in this way, and by the same
reasoning, you might call me and my children and my wife all the
strumpets in the world, for all they do and say is of a kind that in the
highest degree deserves the same praise; and to see them again I pray God
to deliver me from mortal sin, or, what comes to the same thing, to
deliver me from this perilous calling of squire into which I have fallen
a second time, decayed and beguiled by a purse with a hundred ducats that
I found one day in the heart of the Sierra Morena; and the devil is
always putting a bag full of doubloons before my eyes, here, there,
everywhere, until I fancy at every stop I am putting my hand on it, and
hugging it, and carrying it home with me, and making investments, and
getting interest, and living like a prince; and so long as I think of
this I make light of all the hardships I endure with this simpleton of a
master of mine, who, I well know, is more of a madman than a knight."
"There's why they say that 'covetousness bursts the bag,'" said he of the
Grove; "but if you come to talk of that sort, there is not a greater one
in the world than my master, for he is one of those of whom they say,
'the cares of others kill the ass;' for, in order that another knight may
recover the senses he has lost, he makes a madman of himself and goes
looking for what, when found, may, for all I know, fly in his own face."
"And is he in love perchance?" asked Sancho.
"He is," said of the Grove, "with one Casildea de Vandalia, the rawest
and best roasted lady the whole world could produce; but that rawness is
not the only foot he limps on, for he has greater schemes rumbling in his
bowels, as will be seen before many hours are over."
"There's no road so smooth but it has some hole or hindrance in it," said
Sancho; "in other houses they cook beans, but in mine it's by the potful;
madness will have more followers and hangers-on than sound sense; but if
there be any truth in the common saying, that to have companions in
trouble gives some relief, I may take consolation from you, inasmuch as
you serve a master as crazy as my own."
"Crazy but valiant," replied he of the Grove, "and more roguish than
crazy or valiant."
"Mine is not that," said Sancho; "I mean he has nothing of the rogue in
him; on the contrary, he has the soul of a pitcher; he has no thought of
doing harm to anyone, only good to all, nor has he any malice whatever in
him; a child might persuade him that it is night at noonday; and for this
simplicity I love him as the core of my heart, and I can't bring myself
to leave him, let him do ever such foolish things."
"For all that, brother and senor," said he of the Grove, "if the blind
lead the blind, both are in danger of falling into the pit. It is better
for us to beat a quiet retreat and get back to our own quarters; for
those who seek adventures don't always find good ones."
Sancho kept spitting from time to time, and his spittle seemed somewhat
ropy and dry, observing which the compassionate squire of the Grove said,
"It seems to me that with all this talk of ours our tongues are sticking
to the roofs of our mouths; but I have a pretty good loosener hanging
from the saddle-bow of my horse," and getting up he came back the next
minute with a large bota of wine and a pasty half a yard across; and this
is no exaggeration, for it was made of a house rabbit so big that Sancho,
as he handled it, took it to be made of a goat, not to say a kid, and
looking at it he said, "And do you carry this with you, senor?"
"Why, what are you thinking about?" said the other; "do you take me for
some paltry squire? I carry a better larder on my horse's croup than a
general takes with him when he goes on a march."
Sancho ate without requiring to be pressed, and in the dark bolted
mouthfuls like the knots on a tether, and said he, "You are a proper
trusty squire, one of the right sort, sumptuous and grand, as this
banquet shows, which, if it has not come here by magic art, at any rate
has the look of it; not like me, unlucky beggar, that have nothing more
in my alforjas than a scrap of cheese, so hard that one might brain a
giant with it, and, to keep it company, a few dozen carobs and as many
more filberts and walnuts; thanks to the austerity of my master, and the
idea he has and the rule he follows, that knights-errant must not live or
sustain themselves on anything except dried fruits and the herbs of the
field."
"By my faith, brother," said he of the Grove, "my stomach is not made for
thistles, or wild pears, or roots of the woods; let our masters do as
they like, with their chivalry notions and laws, and eat what those
enjoin; I carry my prog-basket and this bota hanging to the saddle-bow,
whatever they may say; and it is such an object of worship with me, and I
love it so, that there is hardly a moment but I am kissing and embracing
it over and over again;" and so saying he thrust it into Sancho's hands,
who raising it aloft pointed to his mouth, gazed at the stars for a
quarter of an hour; and when he had done drinking let his head fall on
one side, and giving a deep sigh, exclaimed, "Ah, whoreson rogue, how
catholic it is!"
"There, you see," said he of the Grove, hearing Sancho's exclamation,
"how you have called this wine whoreson by way of praise."
"Well," said Sancho, "I own it, and I grant it is no dishonour to call
anyone whoreson when it is to be understood as praise. But tell me,
senor, by what you love best, is this Ciudad Real wine?"
"O rare wine-taster!" said he of the Grove; "nowhere else indeed does it
come from, and it has some years' age too."
"Leave me alone for that," said Sancho; "never fear but I'll hit upon the
place it came from somehow. What would you say, sir squire, to my having
such a great natural instinct in judging wines that you have only to let
me smell one and I can tell positively its country, its kind, its flavour
and soundness, the changes it will undergo, and everything that
appertains to a wine? But it is no wonder, for I have had in my family,
on my father's side, the two best wine-tasters that have been known in La
Mancha for many a long year, and to prove it I'll tell you now a thing
that happened them. They gave the two of them some wine out of a cask, to
try, asking their opinion as to the condition, quality, goodness or
badness of the wine. One of them tried it with the tip of his tongue, the
other did no more than bring it to his nose. The first said the wine had
a flavour of iron, the second said it had a stronger flavour of cordovan.
The owner said the cask was clean, and that nothing had been added to the
wine from which it could have got a flavour of either iron or leather.
Nevertheless, these two great wine-tasters held to what they had said.
Time went by, the wine was sold, and when they came to clean out the
cask, they found in it a small key hanging to a thong of cordovan; see
now if one who comes of the same stock has not a right to give his
opinion in such like cases."
"Therefore, I say," said he of the Grove, "let us give up going in quest
of adventures, and as we have loaves let us not go looking for cakes, but
return to our cribs, for God will find us there if it be his will."
"Until my master reaches Saragossa," said Sancho, "I'll remain in his
service; after that we'll see."
The end of it was that the two squires talked so much and drank so much
that sleep had to tie their tongues and moderate their thirst, for to
quench it was impossible; and so the pair of them fell asleep clinging to
the now nearly empty bota and with half-chewed morsels in their mouths;
and there we will leave them for the present, to relate what passed
between the Knight of the Grove and him of the Rueful Countenance.
CHAPTER XIV.
WHEREIN IS CONTINUED THE ADVENTURE OF THE KNIGHT OF THE GROVE
Among the things that passed between Don Quixote and the Knight of the
Wood, the history tells us he of the Grove said to Don Quixote, "In fine,
sir knight, I would have you know that my destiny, or, more properly
speaking, my choice led me to fall in love with the peerless Casildea de
Vandalia. I call her peerless because she has no peer, whether it be in
bodily stature or in the supremacy of rank and beauty. This same
Casildea, then, that I speak of, requited my honourable passion and
gentle aspirations by compelling me, as his stepmother did Hercules, to
engage in many perils of various sorts, at the end of each promising me
that, with the end of the next, the object of my hopes should be
attained; but my labours have gone on increasing link by link until they
are past counting, nor do I know what will be the last one that is to be
the beginning of the accomplishment of my chaste desires. On one occasion
she bade me go and challenge the famous giantess of Seville, La Giralda
by name, who is as mighty and strong as if made of brass, and though
never stirring from one spot, is the most restless and changeable woman
in the world. I came, I saw, I conquered, and I made her stay quiet and
behave herself, for nothing but north winds blew for more than a week.
Another time I was ordered to lift those ancient stones, the mighty bulls
of Guisando, an enterprise that might more fitly be entrusted to porters
than to knights. Again, she bade me fling myself into the cavern of
Cabra--an unparalleled and awful peril--and bring her a minute account of
all that is concealed in those gloomy depths. I stopped the motion of the
Giralda, I lifted the bulls of Guisando, I flung myself into the cavern
and brought to light the secrets of its abyss; and my hopes are as dead
as dead can be, and her scorn and her commands as lively as ever. To be
brief, last of all she has commanded me to go through all the provinces
of Spain and compel all the knights-errant wandering therein to confess
that she surpasses all women alive to-day in beauty, and that I am the
most valiant and the most deeply enamoured knight on earth; in support of
which claim I have already travelled over the greater part of Spain, and
have there vanquished several knights who have dared to contradict me;
but what I most plume and pride myself upon is having vanquished in
single combat that so famous knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, and made
him confess that my Casildea is more beautiful than his Dulcinea; and in
this one victory I hold myself to have conquered all the knights in the
world; for this Don Quixote that I speak of has vanquished them all, and
I having vanquished him, his glory, his fame, and his honour have passed
and are transferred to my person; for
The more the vanquished hath of fair renown,
The greater glory gilds the victor's crown.
Thus the innumerable achievements of the said Don Quixote are now set
down to my account and have become mine."
Don Quixote was amazed when he heard the Knight of the Grove, and was a
thousand times on the point of telling him he lied, and had the lie
direct already on the tip of his tongue; but he restrained himself as
well as he could, in order to force him to confess the lie with his own
lips; so he said to him quietly, "As to what you say, sir knight, about
having vanquished most of the knights of Spain, or even of the whole
world, I say nothing; but that you have vanquished Don Quixote of La
Mancha I consider doubtful; it may have been some other that resembled
him, although there are few like him."
"How! not vanquished?" said he of the Grove; "by the heaven that is above
us I fought Don Quixote and overcame him and made him yield; and he is a
man of tall stature, gaunt features, long, lank limbs, with hair turning
grey, an aquiline nose rather hooked, and large black drooping
moustaches; he does battle under the name of 'The Countenance,' and he
has for squire a peasant called Sancho Panza; he presses the loins and
rules the reins of a famous steed called Rocinante; and lastly, he has
for the mistress of his will a certain Dulcinea del Toboso, once upon a
time called Aldonza Lorenzo, just as I call mine Casildea de Vandalia
because her name is Casilda and she is of Andalusia. If all these tokens
are not enough to vindicate the truth of what I say, here is my sword,
that will compel incredulity itself to give credence to it."
"Calm yourself, sir knight," said Don Quixote, "and give ear to what I am
about to say to you. I would have you know that this Don Quixote you
speak of is the greatest friend I have in the world; so much so that I
may say I regard him in the same light as my own person; and from the
precise and clear indications you have given I cannot but think that he
must be the very one you have vanquished. On the other hand, I see with
my eyes and feel with my hands that it is impossible it can have been the
same; unless indeed it be that, as he has many enemies who are
enchanters, and one in particular who is always persecuting him, some one
of these may have taken his shape in order to allow himself to be
vanquished, so as to defraud him of the fame that his exalted
achievements as a knight have earned and acquired for him throughout the
known world. And in confirmation of this, I must tell you, too, that it
is but ten hours since these said enchanters his enemies transformed the
shape and person of the fair Dulcinea del Toboso into a foul and mean
village lass, and in the same way they must have transformed Don Quixote;
and if all this does not suffice to convince you of the truth of what I
say, here is Don Quixote himself, who will maintain it by arms, on foot
or on horseback or in any way you please."
And so saying he stood up and laid his hand on his sword, waiting to see
what the Knight of the Grove would do, who in an equally calm voice said
in reply, "Pledges don't distress a good payer; he who has succeeded in
vanquishing you once when transformed, Sir Don Quixote, may fairly hope
to subdue you in your own proper shape; but as it is not becoming for
knights to perform their feats of arms in the dark, like highwaymen and
bullies, let us wait till daylight, that the sun may behold our deeds;
and the conditions of our combat shall be that the vanquished shall be at
the victor's disposal, to do all that he may enjoin, provided the
injunction be such as shall be becoming a knight."
"I am more than satisfied with these conditions and terms," replied Don
Quixote; and so saying, they betook themselves to where their squires
lay, and found them snoring, and in the same posture they were in when
sleep fell upon them. They roused them up, and bade them get the horses
ready, as at sunrise they were to engage in a bloody and arduous single
combat; at which intelligence Sancho was aghast and thunderstruck,
trembling for the safety of his master because of the mighty deeds he had
heard the squire of the Grove ascribe to his; but without a word the two
squires went in quest of their cattle; for by this time the three horses
and the ass had smelt one another out, and were all together.
On the way, he of the Grove said to Sancho, "You must know, brother, that
it is the custom with the fighting men of Andalusia, when they are
godfathers in any quarrel, not to stand idle with folded arms while their
godsons fight; I say so to remind you that while our masters are
fighting, we, too, have to fight, and knock one another to shivers."
"That custom, sir squire," replied Sancho, "may hold good among those
bullies and fighting men you talk of, but certainly not among the squires
of knights-errant; at least, I have never heard my master speak of any
custom of the sort, and he knows all the laws of knight-errantry by
heart; but granting it true that there is an express law that squires are
to fight while their masters are fighting, I don't mean to obey it, but
to pay the penalty that may be laid on peacefully minded squires like
myself; for I am sure it cannot be more than two pounds of wax, and I
would rather pay that, for I know it will cost me less than the lint I
shall be at the expense of to mend my head, which I look upon as broken
and split already; there's another thing that makes it impossible for me
to fight, that I have no sword, for I never carried one in my life."
"I know a good remedy for that," said he of the Grove; "I have here two
linen bags of the same size; you shall take one, and I the other, and we
will fight at bag blows with equal arms."
"If that's the way, so be it with all my heart," said Sancho, "for that
sort of battle will serve to knock the dust out of us instead of hurting
us."
"That will not do," said the other, "for we must put into the bags, to
keep the wind from blowing them away, half a dozen nice smooth pebbles,
all of the same weight; and in this way we shall be able to baste one
another without doing ourselves any harm or mischief."
"Body of my father!" said Sancho, "see what marten and sable, and pads of
carded cotton he is putting into the bags, that our heads may not be
broken and our bones beaten to jelly! But even if they are filled with
toss silk, I can tell you, senor, I am not going to fight; let our
masters fight, that's their lookout, and let us drink and live; for time
will take care to ease us of our lives, without our going to look for
fillips so that they may be finished off before their proper time comes
and they drop from ripeness."
"Still," returned he of the Grove, "we must fight, if it be only for half
an hour."
"By no means," said Sancho; "I am not going to be so discourteous or so
ungrateful as to have any quarrel, be it ever so small, with one I have
eaten and drunk with; besides, who the devil could bring himself to fight
in cold blood, without anger or provocation?"
"I can remedy that entirely," said he of the Grove, "and in this way:
before we begin the battle, I will come up to your worship fair and
softly, and give you three or four buffets, with which I shall stretch
you at my feet and rouse your anger, though it were sleeping sounder than
a dormouse."
"To match that plan," said Sancho, "I have another that is not a whit
behind it; I will take a cudgel, and before your worship comes near
enough to waken my anger I will send yours so sound to sleep with whacks,
that it won't waken unless it be in the other world, where it is known
that I am not a man to let my face be handled by anyone; let each look
out for the arrow--though the surer way would be to let everyone's anger
sleep, for nobody knows the heart of anyone, and a man may come for wool
and go back shorn; God gave his blessing to peace and his curse to
quarrels; if a hunted cat, surrounded and hard pressed, turns into a
lion, God knows what I, who am a man, may turn into; and so from this
time forth I warn you, sir squire, that all the harm and mischief that
may come of our quarrel will be put down to your account."
"Very good," said he of the Grove; "God will send the dawn and we shall
be all right."
And now gay-plumaged birds of all sorts began to warble in the trees, and
with their varied and gladsome notes seemed to welcome and salute the
fresh morn that was beginning to show the beauty of her countenance at
the gates and balconies of the east, shaking from her locks a profusion
of liquid pearls; in which dulcet moisture bathed, the plants, too,
seemed to shed and shower down a pearly spray, the willows distilled
sweet manna, the fountains laughed, the brooks babbled, the woods
rejoiced, and the meadows arrayed themselves in all their glory at her
coming. But hardly had the light of day made it possible to see and
distinguish things, when the first object that presented itself to the
eyes of Sancho Panza was the squire of the Grove's nose, which was so big
that it almost overshadowed his whole body. It is, in fact, stated, that
it was of enormous size, hooked in the middle, covered with warts, and of
a mulberry colour like an egg-plant; it hung down two fingers' length
below his mouth, and the size, the colour, the warts, and the bend of it,
made his face so hideous, that Sancho, as he looked at him, began to
tremble hand and foot like a child in convulsions, and he vowed in his
heart to let himself be given two hundred buffets, sooner than be
provoked to fight that monster. Don Quixote examined his adversary, and
found that he already had his helmet on and visor lowered, so that he
could not see his face; he observed, however, that he was a sturdily
built man, but not very tall in stature. Over his armour he wore a
surcoat or cassock of what seemed to be the finest cloth of gold, all
bespangled with glittering mirrors like little moons, which gave him an
extremely gallant and splendid appearance; above his helmet fluttered a
great quantity of plumes, green, yellow, and white, and his lance, which
was leaning against a tree, was very long and stout, and had a steel
point more than a palm in length.
Don Quixote observed all, and took note of all, and from what he saw and
observed he concluded that the said knight must be a man of great
strength, but he did not for all that give way to fear, like Sancho
Panza; on the contrary, with a composed and dauntless air, he said to the
Knight of the Mirrors, "If, sir knight, your great eagerness to fight has
not banished your courtesy, by it I would entreat you to raise your visor
a little, in order that I may see if the comeliness of your countenance
corresponds with that of your equipment."
"Whether you come victorious or vanquished out of this emprise, sir
knight," replied he of the Mirrors, "you will have more than enough time
and leisure to see me; and if now I do not comply with your request, it
is because it seems to me I should do a serious wrong to the fair
Casildea de Vandalia in wasting time while I stopped to raise my visor
before compelling you to confess what you are already aware I maintain."
"Well then," said Don Quixote, "while we are mounting you can at least
tell me if I am that Don Quixote whom you said you vanquished."
"To that we answer you," said he of the Mirrors, "that you are as like
the very knight I vanquished as one egg is like another, but as you say
enchanters persecute you, I will not venture to say positively whether
you are the said person or not."
"That," said Don Quixote, "is enough to convince me that you are under a
deception; however, entirely to relieve you of it, let our horses be
brought, and in less time than it would take you to raise your visor, if
God, my lady, and my arm stand me in good stead, I shall see your face,
and you shall see that I am not the vanquished Don Quixote you take me to
be."
With this, cutting short the colloquy, they mounted, and Don Quixote
wheeled Rocinante round in order to take a proper distance to charge back
upon his adversary, and he of the Mirrors did the same; but Don Quixote
had not moved away twenty paces when he heard himself called by the
other, and, each returning half-way, he of the Mirrors said to him,
"Remember, sir knight, that the terms of our combat are, that the
vanquished, as I said before, shall be at the victor's disposal."
"I am aware of it already," said Don Quixote; "provided what is commanded
and imposed upon the vanquished be things that do not transgress the
limits of chivalry."
"That is understood," replied he of the Mirrors.
At this moment the extraordinary nose of the squire presented itself to
Don Quixote's view, and he was no less amazed than Sancho at the sight;
insomuch that he set him down as a monster of some kind, or a human being
of some new species or unearthly breed. Sancho, seeing his master
retiring to run his course, did not like to be left alone with the nosy
man, fearing that with one flap of that nose on his own the battle would
be all over for him and he would be left stretched on the ground, either
by the blow or with fright; so he ran after his master, holding on to
Rocinante's stirrup-leather, and when it seemed to him time to turn
about, he said, "I implore of your worship, senor, before you turn to
charge, to help me up into this cork tree, from which I will be able to
witness the gallant encounter your worship is going to have with this
knight, more to my taste and better than from the ground."
"It seems to me rather, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that thou wouldst
mount a scaffold in order to see the bulls without danger."
"To tell the truth," returned Sancho, "the monstrous nose of that squire
has filled me with fear and terror, and I dare not stay near him."
"It is," said Don Quixote, "such a one that were I not what I am it would
terrify me too; so, come, I will help thee up where thou wilt."
While Don Quixote waited for Sancho to mount into the cork tree he of the
Mirrors took as much ground as he considered requisite, and, supposing
Don Quixote to have done the same, without waiting for any sound of
trumpet or other signal to direct them, he wheeled his horse, which was
not more agile or better-looking than Rocinante, and at his top speed,
which was an easy trot, he proceeded to charge his enemy; seeing him,
however, engaged in putting Sancho up, he drew rein, and halted in mid
career, for which his horse was very grateful, as he was already unable
to go. Don Quixote, fancying that his foe was coming down upon him
flying, drove his spurs vigorously into Rocinante's lean flanks and made
him scud along in such style that the history tells us that on this
occasion only was he known to make something like running, for on all
others it was a simple trot with him; and with this unparalleled fury he
bore down where he of the Mirrors stood digging his spurs into his horse
up to buttons, without being able to make him stir a finger's length from
the spot where he had come to a standstill in his course. At this lucky
moment and crisis, Don Quixote came upon his adversary, in trouble with
his horse, and embarrassed with his lance, which he either could not
manage, or had no time to lay in rest. Don Quixote, however, paid no
attention to these difficulties, and in perfect safety to himself and
without any risk encountered him of the Mirrors with such force that he
brought him to the ground in spite of himself over the haunches of his
horse, and with so heavy a fall that he lay to all appearance dead, not
stirring hand or foot. The instant Sancho saw him fall he slid down from
the cork tree, and made all haste to where his master was, who,
dismounting from Rocinante, went and stood over him of the Mirrors, and
unlacing his helmet to see if he was dead, and to give him air if he
should happen to be alive, he saw--who can say what he saw, without
filling all who hear it with astonishment, wonder, and awe? He saw, the
history says, the very countenance, the very face, the very look, the
very physiognomy, the very effigy, the very image of the bachelor Samson
Carrasco! As soon as he saw it he called out in a loud voice, "Make haste
here, Sancho, and behold what thou art to see but not to believe; quick,
my son, and learn what magic can do, and wizards and enchanters are
capable of."
Sancho came up, and when he saw the countenance of the bachelor Carrasco,
he fell to crossing himself a thousand times, and blessing himself as
many more. All this time the prostrate knight showed no signs of life,
and Sancho said to Don Quixote, "It is my opinion, senor, that in any
case your worship should take and thrust your sword into the mouth of
this one here that looks like the bachelor Samson Carrasco; perhaps in
him you will kill one of your enemies, the enchanters."
"Thy advice is not bad," said Don Quixote, "for of enemies the fewer the
better;" and he was drawing his sword to carry into effect Sancho's
counsel and suggestion, when the squire of the Mirrors came up, now
without the nose which had made him so hideous, and cried out in a loud
voice, "Mind what you are about, Senor Don Quixote; that is your friend,
the bachelor Samson Carrasco, you have at your feet, and I am his
squire."
"And the nose?" said Sancho, seeing him without the hideous feature he
had before; to which he replied, "I have it here in my pocket," and
putting his hand into his right pocket, he pulled out a masquerade nose
of varnished pasteboard of the make already described; and Sancho,
examining him more and more closely, exclaimed aloud in a voice of
amazement, "Holy Mary be good to me! Isn't it Tom Cecial, my neighbour
and gossip?"
"Why, to be sure I am!" returned the now unnosed squire; "Tom Cecial I
am, gossip and friend Sancho Panza; and I'll tell you presently the means
and tricks and falsehoods by which I have been brought here; but in the
meantime, beg and entreat of your master not to touch, maltreat, wound,
or slay the Knight of the Mirrors whom he has at his feet; because,
beyond all dispute, it is the rash and ill-advised bachelor Samson
Carrasco, our fellow townsman."
At this moment he of the Mirrors came to himself, and Don Quixote
perceiving it, held the naked point of his sword over his face, and said
to him, "You are a dead man, knight, unless you confess that the peerless
Dulcinea del Toboso excels your Casildea de Vandalia in beauty; and in
addition to this you must promise, if you should survive this encounter
and fall, to go to the city of El Toboso and present yourself before her
on my behalf, that she deal with you according to her good pleasure; and
if she leaves you free to do yours, you are in like manner to return and
seek me out (for the trail of my mighty deeds will serve you as a guide
to lead you to where I may be), and tell me what may have passed between
you and her-conditions which, in accordance with what we stipulated
before our combat, do not transgress the just limits of knight-errantry."
"I confess," said the fallen knight, "that the dirty tattered shoe of the
lady Dulcinea del Toboso is better than the ill-combed though clean beard
of Casildea; and I promise to go and to return from her presence to
yours, and to give you a full and particular account of all you demand of
me."
"You must also confess and believe," added Don Quixote, "that the knight
you vanquished was not and could not be Don Quixote of La Mancha, but
some one else in his likeness, just as I confess and believe that you,
though you seem to be the bachelor Samson Carrasco, are not so, but some
other resembling him, whom my enemies have here put before me in his
shape, in order that I may restrain and moderate the vehemence of my
wrath, and make a gentle use of the glory of my victory."
"I confess, hold, and think everything to be as you believe, hold, and
think it," the crippled knight; "let me rise, I entreat you; if, indeed,
the shock of my fall will allow me, for it has left me in a sorry plight
enough."
Don Quixote helped him to rise, with the assistance of his squire Tom
Cecial; from whom Sancho never took his eyes, and to whom he put
questions, the replies to which furnished clear proof that he was really
and truly the Tom Cecial he said; but the impression made on Sancho's
mind by what his master said about the enchanters having changed the face
of the Knight of the Mirrors into that of the bachelor Samson Carrasco,
would not permit him to believe what he saw with his eyes. In fine, both
master and man remained under the delusion; and, down in the mouth, and
out of luck, he of the Mirrors and his squire parted from Don Quixote and
Sancho, he meaning to go look for some village where he could plaster and
strap his ribs. Don Quixote and Sancho resumed their journey to
Saragossa, and on it the history leaves them in order that it may tell
who the Knight of the Mirrors and his long-nosed squire were.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The History of Don Quixote, Vol. II.,
Part 21, by Miguel de Cervantes
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