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VOLUME[ PART 2  ]  


CHAPTER[ DEDICATION OF PART II DON QUIXOTE - PART II.


DEDICATION OF PART II.


TO THE COUNT OF LEMOS:


These days past, when sending Your Excellency my plays, that had appeared

in print before being shown on the stage, I said, if I remember well,

that Don Quixote was putting on his spurs to go and render homage to Your

Excellency. Now I say that "with his spurs, he is on his way." Should he

reach destination methinks I shall have rendered some service to Your

Excellency, as from many parts I am urged to send him off, so as to

dispel the loathing and disgust caused by another Don Quixote who, under

the name of Second Part, has run masquerading through the whole world.

And he who has shown the greatest longing for him has been the great

Emperor of China, who wrote me a letter in Chinese a month ago and sent

it by a special courier. He asked me, or to be truthful, he begged me to

send him Don Quixote, for he intended to found a college where the

Spanish tongue would be taught, and it was his wish that the book to be

read should be the History of Don Quixote. He also added that I should go

and be the rector of this college. I asked the bearer if His Majesty had

afforded a sum in aid of my travel expenses. He answered, "No, not even

in thought."


"Then, brother," I replied, "you can return to your China, post haste or

at whatever haste you are bound to go, as I am not fit for so long a

travel and, besides being ill, I am very much without money, while

Emperor for Emperor and Monarch for Monarch, I have at Naples the great

Count of Lemos, who, without so many petty titles of colleges and

rectorships, sustains me, protects me and does me more favour than I can

wish for."


Thus I gave him his leave and I beg mine from you, offering Your

Excellency the "Trabajos de Persiles y Sigismunda," a book I shall finish

within four months, Deo volente, and which will be either the worst or

the best that has been composed in our language, I mean of those intended

for entertainment; at which I repent of having called it the worst, for,

in the opinion of friends, it is bound to attain the summit of possible

quality. May Your Excellency return in such health that is wished you;

Persiles will be ready to kiss your hand and I your feet, being as I am,

Your Excellency's most humble servant.


From Madrid, this last day of October of the year one thousand six

hundred and fifteen.


At the service of Your Excellency:


MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA







VOLUME II.




THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE


God bless me, gentle (or it may be plebeian) reader, how eagerly must

thou be looking forward to this preface, expecting to find there

retaliation, scolding, and abuse against the author of the second Don

Quixote--I mean him who was, they say, begotten at Tordesillas and born

at Tarragona! Well then, the truth is, I am not going to give thee that

satisfaction; for, though injuries stir up anger in humbler breasts, in

mine the rule must admit of an exception. Thou wouldst have me call him

ass, fool, and malapert, but I have no such intention; let his offence be

his punishment, with his bread let him eat it, and there's an end of it.

What I cannot help taking amiss is that he charges me with being old and

one-handed, as if it had been in my power to keep time from passing over

me, or as if the loss of my hand had been brought about in some tavern,

and not on the grandest occasion the past or present has seen, or the

future can hope to see. If my wounds have no beauty to the beholder's

eye, they are, at least, honourable in the estimation of those who know

where they were received; for the soldier shows to greater advantage dead

in battle than alive in flight; and so strongly is this my feeling, that

if now it were proposed to perform an impossibility for me, I would

rather have had my share in that mighty action, than be free from my

wounds this minute without having been present at it. Those the soldier

shows on his face and breast are stars that direct others to the heaven

of honour and ambition of merited praise; and moreover it is to be

observed that it is not with grey hairs that one writes, but with the

understanding, and that commonly improves with years. I take it amiss,

too, that he calls me envious, and explains to me, as if I were ignorant,

what envy is; for really and truly, of the two kinds there are, I only

know that which is holy, noble, and high-minded; and if that be so, as it

is, I am not likely to attack a priest, above all if, in addition, he

holds the rank of familiar of the Holy Office. And if he said what he did

on account of him on whose behalf it seems he spoke, he is entirely

mistaken; for I worship the genius of that person, and admire his works

and his unceasing and strenuous industry. After all, I am grateful to

this gentleman, the author, for saying that my novels are more satirical

than exemplary, but that they are good; for they could not be that unless

there was a little of everything in them.


I suspect thou wilt say that I am taking a very humble line, and keeping

myself too much within the bounds of my moderation, from a feeling that

additional suffering should not be inflicted upon a sufferer, and that

what this gentleman has to endure must doubtless be very great, as he

does not dare to come out into the open field and broad daylight, but

hides his name and disguises his country as if he had been guilty of some

lese majesty. If perchance thou shouldst come to know him, tell him from

me that I do not hold myself aggrieved; for I know well what the

temptations of the devil are, and that one of the greatest is putting it

into a man's head that he can write and print a book by which he will get

as much fame as money, and as much money as fame; and to prove it I will

beg of you, in your own sprightly, pleasant way, to tell him this story.


There was a madman in Seville who took to one of the drollest absurdities

and vagaries that ever madman in the world gave way to. It was this: he

made a tube of reed sharp at one end, and catching a dog in the street,

or wherever it might be, he with his foot held one of its legs fast, and

with his hand lifted up the other, and as best he could fixed the tube

where, by blowing, he made the dog as round as a ball; then holding it in

this position, he gave it a couple of slaps on the belly, and let it go,

saying to the bystanders (and there were always plenty of them): "Do your

worships think, now, that it is an easy thing to blow up a dog?"--Does

your worship think now, that it is an easy thing to write a book?


And if this story does not suit him, you may, dear reader, tell him this

one, which is likewise of a madman and a dog.


In Cordova there was another madman, whose way it was to carry a piece of

marble slab or a stone, not of the lightest, on his head, and when he

came upon any unwary dog he used to draw close to him and let the weight

fall right on top of him; on which the dog in a rage, barking and

howling, would run three streets without stopping. It so happened,

however, that one of the dogs he discharged his load upon was a

cap-maker's dog, of which his master was very fond. The stone came down

hitting it on the head, the dog raised a yell at the blow, the master saw

the affair and was wroth, and snatching up a measuring-yard rushed out at

the madman and did not leave a sound bone in his body, and at every

stroke he gave him he said, "You dog, you thief! my lurcher! Don't you

see, you brute, that my dog is a lurcher?" and so, repeating the word

"lurcher" again and again, he sent the madman away beaten to a jelly. The

madman took the lesson to heart, and vanished, and for more than a month

never once showed himself in public; but after that he came out again

with his old trick and a heavier load than ever. He came up to where

there was a dog, and examining it very carefully without venturing to let

the stone fall, he said: "This is a lurcher; ware!" In short, all the

dogs he came across, be they mastiffs or terriers, he said were lurchers;

and he discharged no more stones. Maybe it will be the same with this

historian; that he will not venture another time to discharge the weight

of his wit in books, which, being bad, are harder than stones. Tell him,

too, that I do not care a farthing for the threat he holds out to me of

depriving me of my profit by means of his book; for, to borrow from the

famous interlude of "The Perendenga," I say in answer to him, "Long life

to my lord the Veintiquatro, and Christ be with us all." Long life to the

great Conde de Lemos, whose Christian charity and well-known generosity

support me against all the strokes of my curst fortune; and long life to

the supreme benevolence of His Eminence of Toledo, Don Bernardo de

Sandoval y Rojas; and what matter if there be no printing-presses in the

world, or if they print more books against me than there are letters in

the verses of Mingo Revulgo! These two princes, unsought by any adulation

or flattery of mine, of their own goodness alone, have taken it upon them

to show me kindness and protect me, and in this I consider myself happier

and richer than if Fortune had raised me to her greatest height in the

ordinary way. The poor man may retain honour, but not the vicious;

poverty may cast a cloud over nobility, but cannot hide it altogether;

and as virtue of itself sheds a certain light, even though it be through

the straits and chinks of penury, it wins the esteem of lofty and noble

spirits, and in consequence their protection. Thou needst say no more to

him, nor will I say anything more to thee, save to tell thee to bear in

mind that this Second Part of "Don Quixote" which I offer thee is cut by

the same craftsman and from the same cloth as the First, and that in it I

present thee Don Quixote continued, and at length dead and buried, so

that no one may dare to bring forward any further evidence against him,

for that already produced is sufficient; and suffice it, too, that some

reputable person should have given an account of all these shrewd

lunacies of his without going into the matter again; for abundance, even

of good things, prevents them from being valued; and scarcity, even in

the case of what is bad, confers a certain value. I was forgetting to

tell thee that thou mayest expect the "Persiles," which I am now

finishing, and also the Second Part of "Galatea."






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