"Is it possible, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that thou dost stillthink that he yonder is a real lacquey? Apparently it has escapedthy memory that thou hast seen Dulcinea turned and transformed intoa peasant wench, and the Knight of the Mirrors into the bachelorCarrasco; all the work of the enchanters that persecute me. But tellme now, didst thou ask this Tosilos, as thou callest him, what hasbecome of Altisidora, did she weep over my absence, or has she alreadyconsigned to oblivion the love thoughts that used to afflict herwhen I was present?"

"The thoughts that I had," said Sancho, "were not such as to leavetime for asking fool's questions. Body o' me, senor! is your worshipin a condition now to inquire into other people's thoughts, aboveall love thoughts?"

"Look ye, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "there is a great differencebetween what is done out of love and what is done out of gratitude.A knight may very possibly he proof against love; but it isimpossible, strictly speaking, for him to be ungrateful. Altisidora,to all appearance, loved me truly; she gave me the three kerchiefsthou knowest of; she wept at my departure, she cursed me, she abusedme, casting shame to the winds she bewailed herself in public; allsigns that she adored me; for the wrath of lovers always ends incurses. I had no hopes to give her, nor treasures to offer her, formine are given to Dulcinea, and the treasures of knights-errant arelike those of the fairies,' illusory and deceptive; all I can give heris the place in my memory I keep for her, without prejudice,however, to that which I hold devoted to Dulcinea, whom thou artwronging by thy remissness in whipping thyself and scourging thatflesh- would that I saw it eaten by wolves- which would rather keepitself for the worms than for the relief of that poor lady."

"Senor," replied Sancho, "if the truth is to be told, I cannotpersuade myself that the whipping of my backside has anything to dowith the disenchantment of the enchanted; it is like saying, 'Ifyour head aches rub ointment on your knees;' at any rate I'll makebold to swear that in all the histories dealing with knight-errantrythat your worship has read you have never come across anybodydisenchanted by whipping; but whether or no I'll whip myself when Ihave a fancy for it, and the opportunity serves for scourging myselfcomfortably."

"God grant it," said Don Quixote; "and heaven give thee grace totake it to heart and own the obligation thou art under to help mylady, who is thine also, inasmuch as thou art mine."

As they pursued their journey talking in this way they came to thevery same spot where they had been trampled on by the bulls. DonQuixote recognised it, and said he to Sancho, "This is the meadowwhere we came upon those gay shepherdesses and gallant shepherds whowere trying to revive and imitate the pastoral Arcadia there, anidea as novel as it was happy, in emulation whereof, if so he thoudost approve of it, Sancho, I would have ourselves turn shepherds,at any rate for the time I have to live in retirement. I will buy someewes and everything else requisite for the pastoral calling; and, Iunder the name of the shepherd Quixotize and thou as the shepherdPanzino, we will roam the woods and groves and meadows singing songshere, lamenting in elegies there, drinking of the crystal waters ofthe springs or limpid brooks or flowing rivers. The oaks will yield ustheir sweet fruit with bountiful hand, the trunks of the hard corktrees a seat, the willows shade, the roses perfume, the widespreadmeadows carpets tinted with a thousand dyes; the clear pure air willgive us breath, the moon and stars lighten the darkness of the nightfor us, song shall be our delight, lamenting our joy, Apollo willsupply us with verses, and love with conceits whereby we shall makeourselves famed for ever, not only in this but in ages to come."

"Egad," said Sancho, "but that sort of life squares, nay corners,with my notions; and what is more the bachelor Samson Carrasco andMaster Nicholas the barber won't have well seen it before they'll wantto follow it and turn shepherds along with us; and God grant it maynot come into the curate's head to join the sheepfold too, he's sojovial and fond of enjoying himself."

"Thou art in the right of it, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "and thebachelor Samson Carrasco, if he enters the pastoral fraternity, asno doubt he will, may call himself the shepherd Samsonino, orperhaps the shepherd Carrascon; Nicholas the barber may call himselfNiculoso, as old Boscan formerly was called Nemoroso; as for thecurate I don't know what name we can fit to him unless it be somethingderived from his title, and we call him the shepherd Curiambro. Forthe shepherdesses whose lovers we shall be, we can pick names as wewould pears; and as my lady's name does just as well for ashepherdess's as for a princess's, I need not trouble myself to lookfor one that will suit her better; to thine, Sancho, thou canst givewhat name thou wilt."

"I don't mean to give her any but Teresona," said Sancho, "whichwill go well with her stoutness and with her own right name, as she iscalled Teresa; and then when I sing her praises in my verses I'll showhow chaste my passion is, for I'm not going to look 'for betterbread than ever came from wheat' in other men's houses. It won't dofor the curate to have a shepherdess, for the sake of good example;and if the bachelor chooses to have one, that is his look-out."

"God bless me, Sancho my friend!" said Don Quixote, "what a lifewe shall lead! What hautboys and Zamora bagpipes we shall hear, whattabors, timbrels, and rebecks! And then if among all these differentsorts of music that of the albogues is heard, almost all thepastoral instruments will be there."

"What are albogues?" asked Sancho, "for I never in my life heardtell of them or saw them."

"Albogues," said Don Quixote, "are brass plates like candlesticksthat struck against one another on the hollow side make a noise which,if not very pleasing or harmonious, is not disagreeable and accordsvery well with the rude notes of the bagpipe and tabor. The wordalbogue is Morisco, as are all those in our Spanish tongue thatbegin with al; for example, almohaza, almorzar, alhombra, alguacil,alhucema, almacen, alcancia, and others of the same sort, of whichthere are not many more; our language has only three that areMorisco and end in i, which are borcegui, zaquizami, and maravedi.Alheli and alfaqui are seen to be Arabic, as well by the al at thebeginning as by the they end with. I mention this incidentally, thechance allusion to albogues having reminded me of it; and it will beof great assistance to us in the perfect practice of this calling thatI am something of a poet, as thou knowest, and that besides thebachelor Samson Carrasco is an accomplished one. Of the curate I saynothing; but I will wager he has some spice of the poet in him, and nodoubt Master Nicholas too, for all barbers, or most of them, areguitar players and stringers of verses. I will bewail my separation;thou shalt glorify thyself as a constant lover; the shepherd Carrasconwill figure as a rejected one, and the curate Curiambro as whatevermay please him best; and so all will go as gaily as heart could wish."

To this Sancho made answer, "I am so unlucky, senor, that I'm afraidthe day will never come when I'll see myself at such a calling. O whatneat spoons I'll make when I'm a shepherd! What messes, creams,garlands, pastoral odds and ends! And if they don't get me a namefor wisdom, they'll not fail to get me one for ingenuity. Mydaughter Sanchica will bring us our dinner to the pasture. But stay-she's good-looking, and shepherds there are with more mischief thansimplicity in them; I would not have her 'come for wool and go backshorn;' love-making and lawless desires are just as common in thefields as in the cities, and in shepherds' shanties as in royalpalaces; 'do away with the cause, you do away with the sin;' 'ifeyes don't see hearts don't break' and 'better a clear escape thangood men's prayers.'"

"A truce to thy proverbs, Sancho," exclaimed Don Quixote; "any oneof those thou hast uttered would suffice to explain thy meaning;many a time have I recommended thee not to be so lavish withproverbs and to exercise some moderation in delivering them; but itseems to me it is only 'preaching in the desert;' 'my mother beatsme and I go on with my tricks."

"It seems to me," said Sancho, "that your worship is like the commonsaying, 'Said the frying-pan to the kettle, Get away, blackbreech.'You chide me for uttering proverbs, and you string them in couplesyourself."

"Observe, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "I bring in proverbs tothe purpose, and when I quote them they fit like a ring to the finger;thou bringest them in by the head and shoulders, in such a way thatthou dost drag them in, rather than introduce them; if I am notmistaken, I have told thee already that proverbs are short maximsdrawn from the experience and observation of our wise men of old;but the proverb that is not to the purpose is a piece of nonsenseand not a maxim. But enough of this; as nightfall is drawing on let usretire some little distance from the high road to pass the night; whatis in store for us to-morrow God knoweth."

They turned aside, and supped late and poorly, very much againstSancho's will, who turned over in his mind the hardships attendantupon knight-errantry in woods and forests, even though at times plentypresented itself in castles and houses, as at Don Diego deMiranda's, at the wedding of Camacho the Rich, and at Don AntonioMoreno's; he reflected, however, that it could not be always day,nor always night; and so that night he passed in sleeping, and hismaster in waking.

CHAPTER LXVIII

OF THE BRISTLY ADVENTURE THAT BEFELL DON QUIXOTE

The night was somewhat dark, for though there was a moon in thesky it was not in a quarter where she could be seen; for sometimes thelady Diana goes on a stroll to the antipodes, and leaves the mountainsall black and the valleys in darkness. Don Quixote obeyed nature sofar as to sleep his first sleep, but did not give way to the second,very different from Sancho, who never had any second, because with himsleep lasted from night till morning, wherein he showed what a soundconstitution and few cares he had. Don Quixote's cares kept himrestless, so much so that he awoke Sancho and said to him, "I amamazed, Sancho, at the unconcern of thy temperament. I believe thouart made of marble or hard brass, incapable of any emotion orfeeling whatever. I lie awake while thou sleepest, I weep while thousingest, I am faint with fasting while thou art sluggish and torpidfrom pure repletion. It is the duty of good servants to share thesufferings and feel the sorrows of their masters, if it be only forthe sake of appearances. See the calmness of the night, the solitudeof the spot, inviting us to break our slumbers by a vigil of somesort. Rise as thou livest, and retire a little distance, and with agood heart and cheerful courage give thyself three or four hundredlashes on account of Dulcinea's disenchantment score; and this Ientreat of thee, making it a request, for I have no desire to cometo grips with thee a second time, as I know thou hast a heavy hand. Assoon as thou hast laid them on we will pass the rest of the night, Isinging my separation, thou thy constancy, making a beginning atonce with the pastoral life we are to follow at our village."

"Senor," replied Sancho, "I'm no monk to get up out of the middle ofmy sleep and scourge myself, nor does it seem to me that one canpass from one extreme of the pain of whipping to the other of music.Will your worship let me sleep, and not worry me about whippingmyself? or you'll make me swear never to touch a hair of my doublet,not to say my flesh."

"O hard heart!" said Don Quixote, "O pitiless squire! O breadill-bestowed and favours ill-acknowledged, both those I have done theeand those I mean to do thee! Through me hast thou seen thyself agovernor, and through me thou seest thyself in immediate expectationof being a count, or obtaining some other equivalent title, for I-post tenebras spero lucem."

"I don't know what that is," said Sancho; "all I know is that solong as I am asleep I have neither fear nor hope, trouble nor glory;and good luck betide him that invented sleep, the cloak that coversover all a man's thoughts, the food that removes hunger, the drinkthat drives away thirst, the fire that warms the cold, the cold thattempers the heat, and, to wind up with, the universal coin wherewitheverything is bought, the weight and balance that makes the shepherdequal with the king and the fool with the wise man. Sleep, I haveheard say, has only one fault, that it is like death; for between asleeping man and a dead man there is very little difference."

"Never have I heard thee speak so elegantly as now, Sancho," saidDon Quixote; "and here I begin to see the truth of the proverb thoudost sometimes quote, 'Not with whom thou art bred, but with whom thouart fed.'"

"Ha, by my life, master mine," said Sancho, "it's not I that amstringing proverbs now, for they drop in pairs from your worship'smouth faster than from mine; only there is this difference betweenmine and yours, that yours are well-timed and mine are untimely; butanyhow, they are all proverbs."

At this point they became aware of a harsh indistinct noise thatseemed to spread through all the valleys around. Don Quixote stoodup and laid his hand upon his sword, and Sancho ensconced himselfunder Dapple and put the bundle of armour on one side of him and theass's pack-saddle on the other, in fear and trembling as great asDon Quixote's perturbation. Each instant the noise increased andcame nearer to the two terrified men, or at least to one, for as tothe other, his courage is known to all. The fact of the matter wasthat some men were taking above six hundred pigs to sell at a fair,and were on their way with them at that hour, and so great was thenoise they made and their grunting and blowing, that they deafened theears of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, and they could not make out whatit was. The wide-spread grunting drove came on in a surging mass,and without showing any respect for Don Quixote's dignity or Sancho's,passed right over the pair of them, demolishing Sancho'sentrenchments, and not only upsetting Don Quixote but sweepingRocinante off his feet into the bargain; and what with the tramplingand the grunting, and the pace at which the unclean beasts went,pack-saddle, armour, Dapple and Rocinante were left scattered on theground and Sancho and Don Quixote at their wits' end.

Title: Don Quixote
Author: Miqeul de Cervantes
Viewed 406990 times

...
...	127	128	129	130	131	132	133	134	135	136	137	138	139	140	141	142	143	144	145	146	147	148	149	150	151	152	153	154	155