They now came in sight of some large water mills that stood in themiddle of the
river, and the instant Don Quixote saw them he criedout, "Seest thou there, my friend?
there stands the castle orfortress, where there is, no doubt, some knight in durance,
orill-used queen, or infanta, or princess, in whose aid I am broughthither."
"What the devil city, fortress, or castle is your worship talkingabout, senor?"
said Sancho; "don't you see that those are mills thatstand in the river to grind
"Hold thy peace, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "though they look likemills they
are not so; I have already told thee that enchantmentstransform things and change
their proper shapes; I do not mean tosay they really change them from one form into
another, but that itseems as though they did, as experience proved in the transformationof
Dulcinea, sole refuge of my hopes."
By this time, the boat, having reached the middle of the stream,began to move
less slowly than hitherto. The millers belonging tothe mills, when they saw the
boat coming down the river, and on thepoint of being sucked in by the draught of
the wheels, ran out inhaste, several of them, with long poles to stop it, and being
allmealy, with faces and garments covered with flour, they presented asinister appearance.
They raised loud shouts, crying, "Devils ofmen, where are you going to? Are you
mad? Do you want to drownyourselves, or dash yourselves to pieces among these wheels?"
"Did I not tell thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote at this, "that wehad reached
the place where I am to show what the might of my armcan do? See what ruffians and
villains come out against me; see whatmonsters oppose me; see what hideous countenances
come to frighten us!You shall soon see, scoundrels!" And then standing up in the
boat hebegan in a loud voice to hurl threats at the millers, exclaiming,"Ill-conditioned
and worse-counselled rabble, restore to liberty andfreedom the person ye hold in
durance in this your fortress or prison,high or low or of whatever rank or quality
he be, for I am Don Quixoteof La Mancha, otherwise called the Knight of the Lions,
for whom, bythe disposition of heaven above, it is reserved to give a happyissue
to this adventure;" and so saying he drew his sword and beganmaking passes in the
air at the millers, who, hearing but notunderstanding all this nonsense, strove
to stop the boat, which wasnow getting into the rushing channel of the wheels. Sancho
fell uponhis knees devoutly appealing to heaven to deliver him from suchimminent
peril; which it did by the activity and quickness of themillers, who, pushing against
the boat with their poles, stopped it,not, however, without upsetting and throwing
Don Quixote and Sanchointo the water; and lucky it was for Don Quixote that he could
swimlike a goose, though the weight of his armour carried him twice to thebottom;
and had it not been for the millers, who plunged in andhoisted them both out, it
would have been Troy town with the pair ofthem. As soon as, more drenched than thirsty,
they were landed, Sanchowent down on his knees and with clasped hands and eyes raised
toheaven, prayed a long and fervent prayer to God to deliver himevermore from the
rash projects and attempts of his master. Thefishermen, the owners of the boat,
which the mill-wheels had knockedto pieces, now came up, and seeing it smashed they
proceeded tostrip Sancho and to demand payment for it from Don Quixote; but hewith
great calmness, just as if nothing had happened him, told themillers and fishermen
that he would pay for the bark mostcheerfully, on condition that they delivered
up to him, free andunhurt, the person or persons that were in durance in that castle
"What persons or what castle art thou talking of, madman? Art thoufor carrying
off the people who come to grind corn in these mills?"
"That's enough," said Don Quixote to himself, "it would be preachingin the desert
to attempt by entreaties to induce this rabble to do anyvirtuous action. In this
adventure two mighty enchanters must haveencountered one another, and one frustrates
what the other attempts;one provided the bark for me, and the other upset me; God
help us,this world is all machinations and schemes at cross purposes onewith the
other. I can do no more." And then turning towards themills he said aloud, "Friends,
whoe'er ye be that are immured inthat prison, forgive me that, to my misfortune
and yours, I cannotdeliver you from your misery; this adventure is doubtless reserved
anddestined for some other knight."
So saying he settled with the fishermen, and paid fifty reals forthe boat, which
Sancho handed to them very much against the grain,saying, "With a couple more bark
businesses like this we shall havesunk our whole capital."
The fishermen and the millers stood staring in amazement at thetwo figures, so
very different to all appearance from ordinary men,and were wholly unable to make
out the drift of the observations andquestions Don Quixote addressed to them; and
coming to theconclusion that they were madmen, they left them and betookthemselves,
the millers to their mills, and the fishermen to theirhuts. Don Quixote and Sancho
returned to their beasts, and to theirlife of beasts, and so ended the adventure
of the enchanted bark.
OF DON QUIXOTE'S ADVENTURE WITH A FAIR HUNTRESS
They reached their beasts in low spirits and bad humour enough,knight and squire,
Sancho particularly, for with him what touchedthe stock of money touched his heart,
and when any was taken fromhim he felt as if he was robbed of the apples of his
eyes. In fine,without exchanging a word, they mounted and quitted the famousriver,
Don Quixote absorbed in thoughts of his love, Sancho inthinking of his advancement,
which just then, it seemed to him, he wasvery far from securing; for, fool as he
was, he saw clearly enoughthat his master's acts were all or most of them utterly
senseless; andhe began to cast about for an opportunity of retiring from his serviceand
going home some day, without entering into any explanations ortaking any farewell
of him. Fortune, however, ordered matters aftera fashion very much the opposite
of what he contemplated.
It so happened that the next day towards sunset, on coming out ofa wood, Don
Quixote cast his eyes over a green meadow, and at thefar end of it observed some
people, and as he drew nearer saw thatit was a hawking party. Coming closer, he
distinguished among them alady of graceful mien, on a pure white palfrey or hackneycaparisoned
with green trappings and a silver-mounted side-saddle. Thelady was also in green,
and so richly and splendidly dressed thatsplendour itself seemed personified in
her. On her left hand shebore a hawk, a proof to Don Quixote's mind that she must
be some greatlady and the mistress of the whole hunting party, which was thefact;
so he said to Sancho, "Run Sancho, my son, and say to thatlady on the palfrey with
the hawk that I, the Knight of the Lions,kiss the hands of her exalted beauty, and
if her excellence will grantme leave I will go and kiss them in person and place
myself at herservice for aught that may be in my power and her highness maycommand;
and mind, Sancho, how thou speakest, and take care not tothrust in any of thy proverbs
into thy message."
"You've got a likely one here to thrust any in!" said Sancho; "leaveme alone
for that! Why, this is not the first time in my life I havecarried messages to high
and exalted ladies."
"Except that thou didst carry to the lady Dulcinea," said DonQuixote, "I know
not that thou hast carried any other, at least inmy service."
"That is true," replied Sancho; "but pledges don't distress a goodpayer, and
in a house where there's plenty supper is soon cooked; Imean there's no need of
telling or warning me about anything; forI'm ready for everything and know a little
"That I believe, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "go and good luck tothee, and God
Sancho went off at top speed, forcing Dapple out of his regularpace, and came
to where the fair huntress was standing, anddismounting knelt before her and said,
"Fair lady, that knight thatyou see there, the Knight of the Lions by name, is my
master, and I ama squire of his, and at home they call me Sancho Panza. This sameKnight
of the Lions, who was called not long since the Knight of theRueful Countenance,
sends by me to say may it please your highnessto give him leave that, with your
permission, approbation, andconsent, he may come and carry out his wishes, which
are, as he saysand I believe, to serve your exalted loftiness and beauty; and ifyou
give it, your ladyship will do a thing which will redound toyour honour, and he
will receive a most distinguished favour andhappiness."
"You have indeed, squire," said the lady, "delivered your messagewith all the
formalities such messages require; rise up, for it is notright that the squire of
a knight so great as he of the RuefulCountenance, of whom we have heard a great
deal here, should remain onhis knees; rise, my friend, and bid your master welcome
to theservices of myself and the duke my husband, in a country house we havehere."
Sancho got up, charmed as much by the beauty of the good lady asby her high-bred
air and her courtesy, but, above all, by what she hadsaid about having heard of
his master, the Knight of the RuefulCountenance; for if she did not call him Knight
of the Lions it was nodoubt because he had so lately taken the name. "Tell me, brothersquire,"
asked the duchess (whose title, however, is not known), "thismaster of yours, is
he not one of whom there is a history extant inprint, called 'The Ingenious Gentleman,
Don Quixote of La Mancha,' whohas for the lady of his heart a certain Dulcinea del
"He is the same, senora," replied Sancho; "and that squire of hiswho figures,
or ought to figure, in the said history under the name ofSancho Panza, is myself,
unless they have changed me in the cradle,I mean in the press."
"I am rejoiced at all this," said the duchess; "go, brother Panza,and tell your
master that he is welcome to my estate, and that nothingcould happen me that could
give me greater pleasure."
Sancho returned to his master mightily pleased with thisgratifying answer, and
told him all the great lady had said to him,lauding to the skies, in his rustic
phrase, her rare beauty, hergraceful gaiety, and her courtesy. Don Quixote drew
himself up brisklyin his saddle, fixed himself in his stirrups, settled his visor,gave
Rocinante the spur, and with an easy bearing advanced to kiss thehands of the duchess,
who, having sent to summon the duke her husband,told him while Don Quixote was approaching
all about the message;and as both of them had read the First Part of this history,
andfrom it were aware of Don Quixote's crazy turn, they awaited himwith the greatest
delight and anxiety to make his acquaintance,meaning to fall in with his humour
and agree with everything hesaid, and, so long as he stayed with them, to treat
him as aknight-errant, with all the ceremonies usual in the books ofchivalry they
had read, for they themselves were very fond of them.
Don Quixote now came up with his visor raised, and as he seemedabout to dismount
Sancho made haste to go and hold his stirrup forhim; but in getting down off Dapple
he was so unlucky as to hitchhis foot in one of the ropes of the pack-saddle in
such a way thathe was unable to free it, and was left hanging by it with his face
andbreast on the ground. Don Quixote, who was not used to dismountwithout having
the stirrup held, fancying that Sancho had by this timecome to hold it for him,
threw himself off with a lurch and broughtRocinante's saddle after him, which was
no doubt badly girthed, andsaddle and he both came to the ground; not without discomfiture
to himand abundant curses muttered between his teeth against the unluckySancho,
who had his foot still in the shackles. The duke ordered hishuntsmen to go to the
help of knight and squire, and they raised DonQuixote, sorely shaken by his fall;
and he, limping, advanced asbest he could to kneel before the noble pair. This,
however, theduke would by no means permit; on the contrary, dismounting from hishorse,
he went and embraced Don Quixote, saying, "I am grieved, SirKnight of the Rueful
Countenance, that your first experience on myground should have been such an unfortunate
one as we have seen; butthe carelessness of squires is often the cause of worse
"That which has happened me in meeting you, mighty prince,"replied Don Quixote,
"cannot be unfortunate, even if my fall had notstopped short of the depths of the
bottomless pit, for the glory ofhaving seen you would have lifted me up and delivered
me from it. Mysquire, God's curse upon him, is better at unloosing his tongue intalking
impertinence than in tightening the girths of a saddle to keepit steady; but however
I may be, allen or raised up, on foot or onhorseback, I shall always be at your
service and that of my lady theduchess, your worthy consort, worthy queen of beauty
and paramountprincess of courtesy."
"Gently, Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha," said the duke; "where mylady Dona Dulcinea
del Toboso is, it is not right that otherbeauties should he praised."
Sancho, by this time released from his entanglement, was standingby, and before
his master could answer he said, "There is nodenying, and it must be maintained,
that my lady Dulcinea del Tobosois very beautiful; but the hare jumps up where one
least expects it;and I have heard say that what we call nature is like a potter
thatmakes vessels of clay, and he who makes one fair vessel can as wellmake two,
or three, or a hundred; I say so because, by my faith, mylady the duchess is in
no way behind my mistress the lady Dulcinea delToboso."
Don Quixote turned to the duchess and said, "Your highness mayconceive that never
had knight-errant in this world a more talkativeor a droller squire than I have,
and he will prove the truth of what Isay, if your highness is pleased to accept
of my services for a fewdays."