On hearing this Sancho, who had been listening with great attention,cried out
in a loud voice, "Is it possible there is anyone in theworld who will dare to say
and swear that this master of mine is amadman? Say, gentlemen shepherds, is there
a village priest, be heever so wise or learned, who could say what my master has
said; oris there knight-errant, whatever renown he may have as a man ofvalour, that
could offer what my master has offered now?"
Don Quixote turned upon Sancho, and with a countenance glowingwith anger said
to him, "Is it possible, Sancho, there is anyone inthe whole world who will say
thou art not a fool, with a lining tomatch, and I know not what trimmings of impertinence
and roguery?Who asked thee to meddle in my affairs, or to inquire whether I am awise
man or a blockhead? Hold thy peace; answer me not a word;saddle Rocinante if he
be unsaddled; and let us go to put my offerinto execution; for with the right that
I have on my side thoumayest reckon as vanquished all who shall venture to question
it;" andin a great rage, and showing his anger plainly, he rose from his seat,leaving
the company lost in wonder, and making them feel doubtfulwhether they ought to regard
him as a madman or a rational being. Inthe end, though they sought to dissuade him
from involving himselfin such a challenge, assuring him they admitted his gratitude
as fullyestablished, and needed no fresh proofs to be convinced of his valiantspirit,
as those related in the history of his exploits weresufficient, still Don Quixote
persisted in his resolve; and mounted onRocinante, bracing his buckler on his arm
and grasping his lance, heposted himself in the middle of a high road that was not
far fromthe green meadow. Sancho followed on Dapple, together with all themembers
of the pastoral gathering, eager to see what would be theupshot of his vainglorious
and extraordinary proposal.
Don Quixote, then, having, as has been said, planted himself inthe middle of
the road, made the welkin ring with words to thiseffect: "Ho ye travellers and wayfarers,
knights, squires, folk onfoot or on horseback, who pass this way or shall pass in
the course ofthe next two days! Know that Don Quixote of La Mancha,knight-errant,
is posted here to maintain by arms that the beautyand courtesy enshrined in the
nymphs that dwell in these meadows andgroves surpass all upon earth, putting aside
the lady of my heart,Dulcinea del Toboso. Wherefore, let him who is of the opposite
opinioncome on, for here I await him."
Twice he repeated the same words, and twice they fell unheard by anyadventurer;
but fate, that was guiding affairs for him from betterto better, so ordered it that
shortly afterwards there appeared on theroad a crowd of men on horseback, many of
them with lances in theirhands, all riding in a compact body and in great haste.
No soonerhad those who were with Don Quixote seen them than they turned aboutand
withdrew to some distance from the road, for they knew that ifthey stayed some harm
might come to them; but Don Quixote withintrepid heart stood his ground, and Sancho
Panza shielded himselfwith Rocinante's hind-quarters. The troop of lancers came
up, andone of them who was in advance began shouting to Don Quixote, "Get outof
the way, you son of the devil, or these bulls will knock you topieces!"
"Rabble!" returned Don Quixote, "I care nothing for bulls, be theythe fiercest
Jarama breeds on its banks. Confess at once,scoundrels, that what I have declared
is true; else ye have to dealwith me in combat."
The herdsman had no time to reply, nor Don Quixote to get out of theway even
if he wished; and so the drove of fierce bulls and tamebullocks, together with the
crowd of herdsmen and others who weretaking them to be penned up in a village where
they were to be run thenext day, passed over Don Quixote and over Sancho, Rocinante
andDapple, hurling them all to the earth and rolling them over on theground. Sancho
was left crushed, Don Quixote scared, Dapple belabouredand Rocinante in no very
sound condition. They all got up, however, atlength, and Don Quixote in great haste,
stumbling here and fallingthere, started off running after the drove, shouting out,
"Hold! stay!ye rascally rabble, a single knight awaits you, and he is not of thetemper
or opinion of those who say, 'For a flying enemy make abridge of silver.'" The retreating
party in their haste, however,did not stop for that, or heed his menaces any more
than last year'sclouds. Weariness brought Don Quixote to a halt, and more enraged
thanavenged he sat down on the road to wait until Sancho, Rocinante andDapple came
up. When they reached him master and man mounted oncemore, and without going back
to bid farewell to the mock orimitation Arcadia, and more in humiliation than contentment,
theycontinued their journey.
CHAPTER LIX
WHEREIN IS RELATED THE STRANGE THING, WHICH MAY BE REGARDED AS ANADVENTURE, THAT
HAPPENED DON QUIXOTE
A clear limpid spring which they discovered in a cool grove relievedDon Quixote
and Sancho of the dust and fatigue due to the unpolitebehaviour of the bulls, and
by the side of this, having turnedDapple and Rocinante loose without headstall or
bridle, the forlornpair, master and man, seated themselves. Sancho had recourse
to thelarder of his alforjas and took out of them what he called the prog;Don Quixote
rinsed his mouth and bathed his face, by which coolingprocess his flagging energies
were revived. Out of pure vexation heremained without eating, and out of pure politeness
Sancho did notventure to touch a morsel of what was before him, but waited for hismaster
to act as taster. Seeing, however, that, absorbed in thought,he was forgetting to
carry the bread to his mouth, he said never aword, and trampling every sort of good
breeding under foot, began tostow away in his paunch the bread and cheese that came
to his hand.
"Eat, Sancho my friend," said Don Quixote; "support life, which isof more consequence
to thee than to me, and leave me to die underthe pain of my thoughts and pressure
of my misfortunes. I was born,Sancho, to live dying, and thou to die eating; and
to prove thetruth of what I say, look at me, printed in histories, famed inarms,
courteous in behaviour, honoured by princes, courted by maidens;and after all, when
I looked forward to palms, triumphs, and crowns,won and earned by my valiant deeds,
I have this morning seen myselftrampled on, kicked, and crushed by the feet of unclean
and filthyanimals. This thought blunts my teeth, paralyses my jaws, cramps myhands,
and robs me of all appetite for food; so much so that I havea mind to let myself
die of hunger, the cruelest death of all deaths."
"So then," said Sancho, munching hard all the time, "your worshipdoes not agree
with the proverb that says, 'Let Martha die, but lether die with a full belly.'
I, at any rate, have no mind to killmyself; so far from that, I mean to do as the
cobbler does, whostretches the leather with his teeth until he makes it reach as
far ashe wants. I'll stretch out my life by eating until it reaches theend heaven
has fixed for it; and let me tell you, senor, there's nogreater folly than to think
of dying of despair as your worshipdoes; take my advice, and after eating lie down
and sleep a bit onthis green grass-mattress, and you will see that when you awake
you'llfeel something better."
Don Quixote did as he recommended, for it struck him that Sancho'sreasoning was
more like a philosopher's than a blockhead's, and saidhe, "Sancho, if thou wilt
do for me what I am going to tell thee myease of mind would be more assured and
my heaviness of heart not sogreat; and it is this; to go aside a little while I
am sleeping inaccordance with thy advice, and, making bare thy carcase to the air,to
give thyself three or four hundred lashes with Rocinante's reins,on account of the
three thousand and odd thou art to give thyselffor the disenchantment of Dulcinea;
for it is a great pity that thepoor lady should be left enchanted through thy carelessness
andnegligence."
"There is a good deal to be said on that point," said Sancho; "letus both go
to sleep now, and after that, God has decreed what willhappen. Let me tell your
worship that for a man to whip himself incold blood is a hard thing, especially
if the stripes fall upon anill-nourished and worse-fed body. Let my lady Dulcinea
havepatience, and when she is least expecting it, she will see me made ariddle of
with whipping, and 'until death it's all life;' I meanthat I have still life in
me, and the desire to make good what Ihave promised."
Don Quixote thanked him, and ate a little, and Sancho a good deal,and then they
both lay down to sleep, leaving those two inseparablefriends and comrades, Rocinante
and Dapple, to their own devices andto feed unrestrained upon the abundant grass
with which the meadow wasfurnished. They woke up rather late, mounted once more
and resumedtheir journey, pushing on to reach an inn which was in sight,apparently
a league off. I say an inn, because Don Quixote called itso, contrary to his usual
practice of calling all inns castles. Theyreached it, and asked the landlord if
they could put up there. He saidyes, with as much comfort and as good fare as they
could find inSaragossa. They dismounted, and Sancho stowed away his larder in aroom
of which the landlord gave him the key. He took the beasts to thestable, fed them,
and came back to see what orders Don Quixote, whowas seated on a bench at the door,
had for him, giving specialthanks to heaven that this inn had not been taken for
a castle byhis master. Supper-time came, and they repaired to their room, andSancho
asked the landlord what he had to give them for supper. To thisthe landlord replied
that his mouth should be the measure; he had onlyto ask what he would; for that
inn was provided with the birds ofthe air and the fowls of the earth and the fish
of the sea.
"There's no need of all that," said Sancho; "if they'll roast us acouple of chickens
we'll be satisfied, for my master is delicate andeats little, and I'm not over and
above gluttonous."
The landlord replied he had no chickens, for the kites had stolenthem.
"Well then," said Sancho, "let senor landlord tell them to roast apullet, so
that it is a tender one."
"Pullet! My father!" said the landlord; "indeed and in truth it'sonly yesterday
I sent over fifty to the city to sell; but savingpullets ask what you will."
"In that case," said Sancho, "you will not be without veal or kid."
"Just now," said the landlord, "there's none in the house, forit's all finished;
but next week there will he enough and to spare."
"Much good that does us," said Sancho; "I'll lay a bet that allthese short-comings
are going to wind up in plenty of bacon and eggs."
"By God," said the landlord, "my guest's wits must he precious dull;I tell him
I have neither pullets nor hens, and he wants me to haveeggs! Talk of other dainties,
if you please, and don't ask for hensagain."
"Body o' me!" said Sancho, "let's settle the matter; say at oncewhat you have
got, and let us have no more words about it."
"In truth and earnest, senor guest," said the landlord, "all Ihave is a couple
of cow-heels like calves' feet, or a couple ofcalves' feet like cowheels; they are
boiled with chick-peas, onions,and bacon, and at this moment they are crying 'Come
eat me, come eatme."
"I mark them for mine on the spot," said Sancho; "let nobody touchthem; I'll
pay better for them than anyone else, for I could notwish for anything more to my
taste; and I don't care a pin whetherthey are feet or heels."
"Nobody shall touch them," said the landlord; "for the otherguests I have, being
persons of high quality, bring their own cook andcaterer and larder with them."
"If you come to people of quality," said Sancho, "there's nobodymore so than
my master; but the calling he follows does not allow oflarders or store-rooms; we
lay ourselves down in the middle of ameadow, and fill ourselves with acorns or medlars."
Here ended Sancho's conversation with the landlord, Sancho notcaring to carry
it any farther by answering him; for he had alreadyasked him what calling or what
profession it was his master was of.
Supper-time having come, then, Don Quixote betook himself to hisroom, the landlord
brought in the stew-pan just as it was, and hesat himself down to sup very resolutely.
It seems that in anotherroom, which was next to Don Quixote's, with nothing but
a thinpartition to separate it, he overheard these words, "As you live,Senor Don
Jeronimo, while they are bringing supper, let us readanother chapter of the Second
Part of 'Don Quixote of La Mancha.'"
The instant Don Quixote heard his own name be started to his feetand listened
with open ears to catch what they said about him, andheard the Don Jeronimo who
had been addressed say in reply, "Why wouldyou have us read that absurd stuff, Don
Juan, when it is impossiblefor anyone who has read the First Part of the history
of 'DonQuixote of La Mancha' to take any pleasure in reading this SecondPart?"
"For all that," said he who was addressed as Don Juan, "we shalldo well to read
it, for there is no book so bad but it has somethinggood in it. What displeases
me most in it is that it represents DonQuixote as now cured of his love for Dulcinea
del Toboso."
On hearing this Don Quixote, full of wrath and indignation, liftedup his voice
and said, "Whoever he may be who says that Don Quixote ofLa Mancha has forgotten
or can forget Dulcinea del Toboso, I willteach him with equal arms that what he
says is very far from thetruth; for neither can the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso
beforgotten, nor can forgetfulness have a place in Don Quixote; hismotto is constancy,
and his profession to maintain the same with hislife and never wrong it."
"Who is this that answers us?" said they in the next room.
"Who should it be," said Sancho, "but Don Quixote of La Manchahimself, who will
make good all he has said and all he will say; forpledges don't trouble a good payer."