Contents    Prev    Next    Last

VOLUME[ PART 2  ]  

CHAPTER[ LVIII. WHICH TELLS HOW ADVENTURES CAME CROWDING ON DON QUIXOTE IN SUCH NUMBERS

THAT THEY GAVE ONE ANOTHER NO BREATHING-TIME

When Don Quixote saw himself in open country, free, and relieved from the

attentions of Altisidora, he felt at his ease, and in fresh spirits to

take up the pursuit of chivalry once more; and turning to Sancho he said,

"Freedom, Sancho, is one of the most precious gifts that heaven has

bestowed upon men; no treasures that the earth holds buried or the sea

conceals can compare with it; for freedom, as for honour, life may and

should be ventured; and on the other hand, captivity is the greatest evil

that can fall to the lot of man. I say this, Sancho, because thou hast

seen the good cheer, the abundance we have enjoyed in this castle we are

leaving; well then, amid those dainty banquets and snow-cooled beverages

I felt as though I were undergoing the straits of hunger, because I did

not enjoy them with the same freedom as if they had been mine own; for

the sense of being under an obligation to return benefits and favours

received is a restraint that checks the independence of the spirit. Happy

he, to whom heaven has given a piece of bread for which he is not bound

to give thanks to any but heaven itself!"

"For all your worship says," said Sancho, "it is not becoming that there

should be no thanks on our part for two hundred gold crowns that the

duke's majordomo has given me in a little purse which I carry next my

heart, like a warming plaster or comforter, to meet any chance calls; for

we shan't always find castles where they'll entertain us; now and then we

may light upon roadside inns where they'll cudgel us."

In conversation of this sort the knight and squire errant were pursuing

their journey, when, after they had gone a little more than half a

league, they perceived some dozen men dressed like labourers stretched

upon their cloaks on the grass of a green meadow eating their dinner.

They had beside them what seemed to be white sheets concealing some

objects under them, standing upright or lying flat, and arranged at

intervals. Don Quixote approached the diners, and, saluting them

courteously first, he asked them what it was those cloths covered.

"Senor," answered one of the party, "under these cloths are some images

carved in relief intended for a retablo we are putting up in our village;

we carry them covered up that they may not be soiled, and on our

shoulders that they may not be broken."

"With your good leave," said Don Quixote, "I should like to see them; for

images that are carried so carefully no doubt must be fine ones."

"I should think they were!" said the other; "let the money they cost

speak for that; for as a matter of fact there is not one of them that

does not stand us in more than fifty ducats; and that your worship may

judge; wait a moment, and you shall see with your own eyes;" and getting

up from his dinner he went and uncovered the first image, which proved to

be one of Saint George on horseback with a serpent writhing at his feet

and the lance thrust down its throat with all that fierceness that is

usually depicted. The whole group was one blaze of gold, as the saying

is. On seeing it Don Quixote said, "That knight was one of the best

knights-errant the army of heaven ever owned; he was called Don Saint

George, and he was moreover a defender of maidens. Let us see this next

one."

The man uncovered it, and it was seen to be that of Saint Martin on his

horse, dividing his cloak with the beggar. The instant Don Quixote saw it

he said, "This knight too was one of the Christian adventurers, but I

believe he was generous rather than valiant, as thou mayest perceive,

Sancho, by his dividing his cloak with the beggar and giving him half of

it; no doubt it was winter at the time, for otherwise he would have given

him the whole of it, so charitable was he."

"It was not that, most likely," said Sancho, "but that he held with the

proverb that says, 'For giving and keeping there's need of brains.'"

Don Quixote laughed, and asked them to take off the next cloth,

underneath which was seen the image of the patron saint of the Spains

seated on horseback, his sword stained with blood, trampling on Moors and

treading heads underfoot; and on seeing it Don Quixote exclaimed, "Ay,

this is a knight, and of the squadrons of Christ! This one is called Don

Saint James the Moorslayer, one of the bravest saints and knights the

world ever had or heaven has now."

They then raised another cloth which it appeared covered Saint Paul

falling from his horse, with all the details that are usually given in

representations of his conversion. When Don Quixote saw it, rendered in

such lifelike style that one would have said Christ was speaking and Paul

answering, "This," he said, "was in his time the greatest enemy that the

Church of God our Lord had, and the greatest champion it will ever have;

a knight-errant in life, a steadfast saint in death, an untiring labourer

in the Lord's vineyard, a teacher of the Gentiles, whose school was

heaven, and whose instructor and master was Jesus Christ himself."

There were no more images, so Don Quixote bade them cover them up again,

and said to those who had brought them, "I take it as a happy omen,

brothers, to have seen what I have; for these saints and knights were of

the same profession as myself, which is the calling of arms; only there

is this difference between them and me, that they were saints, and fought

with divine weapons, and I am a sinner and fight with human ones. They

won heaven by force of arms, for heaven suffereth violence; and I, so

far, know not what I have won by dint of my sufferings; but if my

Dulcinea del Toboso were to be released from hers, perhaps with mended

fortunes and a mind restored to itself I might direct my steps in a

better path than I am following at present."

"May God hear and sin be deaf," said Sancho to this.

The men were filled with wonder, as well at the figure as at the words of

Don Quixote, though they did not understand one half of what he meant by

them. They finished their dinner, took their images on their backs, and

bidding farewell to Don Quixote resumed their journey.

Sancho was amazed afresh at the extent of his master's knowledge, as much

as if he had never known him, for it seemed to him that there was no

story or event in the world that he had not at his fingers' ends and

fixed in his memory, and he said to him, "In truth, master mine, if this

that has happened to us to-day is to be called an adventure, it has been

one of the sweetest and pleasantest that have befallen us in the whole

course of our travels; we have come out of it unbelaboured and

undismayed, neither have we drawn sword nor have we smitten the earth

with our bodies, nor have we been left famishing; blessed be God that he

has let me see such a thing with my own eyes!"

"Thou sayest well, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "but remember all times are

not alike nor do they always run the same way; and these things the

vulgar commonly call omens, which are not based upon any natural reason,

will by him who is wise be esteemed and reckoned happy accidents merely.

One of these believers in omens will get up of a morning, leave his

house, and meet a friar of the order of the blessed Saint Francis, and,

as if he had met a griffin, he will turn about and go home. With another

Mendoza the salt is spilt on his table, and gloom is spilt over his

heart, as if nature was obliged to give warning of coming misfortunes by

means of such trivial things as these. The wise man and the Christian

should not trifle with what it may please heaven to do. Scipio on coming

to Africa stumbled as he leaped on shore; his soldiers took it as a bad

omen; but he, clasping the soil with his arms, exclaimed, 'Thou canst not

escape me, Africa, for I hold thee tight between my arms.' Thus, Sancho,

meeting those images has been to me a most happy occurrence."

"I can well believe it," said Sancho; "but I wish your worship would tell

me what is the reason that the Spaniards, when they are about to give

battle, in calling on that Saint James the Moorslayer, say 'Santiago and

close Spain!' Is Spain, then, open, so that it is needful to close it; or

what is the meaning of this form?"

"Thou art very simple, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "God, look you, gave

that great knight of the Red Cross to Spain as her patron saint and

protector, especially in those hard struggles the Spaniards had with the

Moors; and therefore they invoke and call upon him as their defender in

all their battles; and in these he has been many a time seen beating

down, trampling under foot, destroying and slaughtering the Hagarene

squadrons in the sight of all; of which fact I could give thee many

examples recorded in truthful Spanish histories."

Sancho changed the subject, and said to his master, "I marvel, senor, at

the boldness of Altisidora, the duchess's handmaid; he whom they call

Love must have cruelly pierced and wounded her; they say he is a little

blind urchin who, though blear-eyed, or more properly speaking sightless,

if he aims at a heart, be it ever so small, hits it and pierces it

through and through with his arrows. I have heard it said too that the

arrows of Love are blunted and robbed of their points by maidenly modesty

and reserve; but with this Altisidora it seems they are sharpened rather

than blunted."

"Bear in mind, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that love is influenced by no

consideration, recognises no restraints of reason, and is of the same

nature as death, that assails alike the lofty palaces of kings and the

humble cabins of shepherds; and when it takes entire possession of a

heart, the first thing it does is to banish fear and shame from it; and

so without shame Altisidora declared her passion, which excited in my

mind embarrassment rather than commiseration."

"Notable cruelty!" exclaimed Sancho; "unheard-of ingratitude! I can only

say for myself that the very smallest loving word of hers would have

subdued me and made a slave of me. The devil! What a heart of marble,

what bowels of brass, what a soul of mortar! But I can't imagine what it

is that this damsel saw in your worship that could have conquered and

captivated her so. What gallant figure was it, what bold bearing, what

sprightly grace, what comeliness of feature, which of these things by

itself, or what all together, could have made her fall in love with you?

For indeed and in truth many a time I stop to look at your worship from

the sole of your foot to the topmost hair of your head, and I see more to

frighten one than to make one fall in love; moreover I have heard say

that beauty is the first and main thing that excites love, and as your

worship has none at all, I don't know what the poor creature fell in love

with."

"Recollect, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "there are two sorts of beauty,

one of the mind, the other of the body; that of the mind displays and

exhibits itself in intelligence, in modesty, in honourable conduct, in

generosity, in good breeding; and all these qualities are possible and

may exist in an ugly man; and when it is this sort of beauty and not that

of the body that is the attraction, love is apt to spring up suddenly and

violently. I, Sancho, perceive clearly enough that I am not beautiful,

but at the same time I know I am not hideous; and it is enough for an

honest man not to be a monster to be an object of love, if only he

possesses the endowments of mind I have mentioned."

While engaged in this discourse they were making their way through a wood

that lay beyond the road, when suddenly, without expecting anything of

the kind, Don Quixote found himself caught in some nets of green cord

stretched from one tree to another; and unable to conceive what it could

be, he said to Sancho, "Sancho, it strikes me this affair of these nets

will prove one of the strangest adventures imaginable. May I die if the

enchanters that persecute me are not trying to entangle me in them and

delay my journey, by way of revenge for my obduracy towards Altisidora.

Well then let me tell them that if these nets, instead of being green

cord, were made of the hardest diamonds, or stronger than that wherewith

the jealous god of blacksmiths enmeshed Venus and Mars, I would break

them as easily as if they were made of rushes or cotton threads." But

just as he was about to press forward and break through all, suddenly

from among some trees two shepherdesses of surpassing beauty presented

themselves to his sight--or at least damsels dressed like shepherdesses,

save that their jerkins and sayas were of fine brocade; that is to say,

the sayas were rich farthingales of gold embroidered tabby. Their hair,

that in its golden brightness vied with the beams of the sun itself, fell

loose upon their shoulders and was crowned with garlands twined with

green laurel and red everlasting; and their years to all appearance were

not under fifteen nor above eighteen.

Such was the spectacle that filled Sancho with amazement, fascinated Don

Quixote, made the sun halt in his course to behold them, and held all

four in a strange silence. One of the shepherdesses, at length, was the

first to speak and said to Don Quixote, "Hold, sir knight, and do not

break these nets; for they are not spread here to do you any harm, but

only for our amusement; and as I know you will ask why they have been put

up, and who we are, I will tell you in a few words. In a village some two

leagues from this, where there are many people of quality and rich

gentlefolk, it was agreed upon by a number of friends and relations to

come with their wives, sons and daughters, neighbours, friends and

kinsmen, and make holiday in this spot, which is one of the pleasantest

in the whole neighbourhood, setting up a new pastoral Arcadia among

ourselves, we maidens dressing ourselves as shepherdesses and the youths

as shepherds. We have prepared two eclogues, one by the famous poet

Garcilasso, the other by the most excellent Camoens, in its own

Portuguese tongue, but we have not as yet acted them. Yesterday was the

first day of our coming here; we have a few of what they say are called

field-tents pitched among the trees on the bank of an ample brook that

fertilises all these meadows; last night we spread these nets in the

trees here to snare the silly little birds that startled by the noise we

make may fly into them. If you please to be our guest, senor, you will be

welcomed heartily and courteously, for here just now neither care nor

sorrow shall enter."

She held her peace and said no more, and Don Quixote made answer, "Of a

truth, fairest lady, Actaeon when he unexpectedly beheld Diana bathing in

the stream could not have been more fascinated and wonderstruck than I at

the sight of your beauty. I commend your mode of entertainment, and thank

you for the kindness of your invitation; and if I can serve you, you may

command me with full confidence of being obeyed, for my profession is

none other than to show myself grateful, and ready to serve persons of

all conditions, but especially persons of quality such as your appearance

indicates; and if, instead of taking up, as they probably do, but a small

space, these nets took up the whole surface of the globe, I would seek

out new worlds through which to pass, so as not to break them; and that

ye may give some degree of credence to this exaggerated language of mine,

know that it is no less than Don Quixote of La Mancha that makes this

declaration to you, if indeed it be that such a name has reached your

ears."

"Ah! friend of my soul," instantly exclaimed the other shepherdess, "what

great good fortune has befallen us! Seest thou this gentleman we have

before us? Well then let me tell thee he is the most valiant and the most

devoted and the most courteous gentleman in all the world, unless a

history of his achievements that has been printed and I have read is

telling lies and deceiving us. I will lay a wager that this good fellow

who is with him is one Sancho Panza his squire, whose drolleries none can

equal."

"That's true," said Sancho; "I am that same droll and squire you speak

of, and this gentleman is my master Don Quixote of La Mancha, the same

that's in the history and that they talk about."

"Oh, my friend," said the other, "let us entreat him to stay; for it will

give our fathers and brothers infinite pleasure; I too have heard just

what thou hast told me of the valour of the one and the drolleries of the

other; and what is more, of him they say that he is the most constant and

loyal lover that was ever heard of, and that his lady is one Dulcinea del

Toboso, to whom all over Spain the palm of beauty is awarded."

"And justly awarded," said Don Quixote, "unless, indeed, your unequalled

beauty makes it a matter of doubt. But spare yourselves the trouble,

ladies, of pressing me to stay, for the urgent calls of my profession do

not allow me to take rest under any circumstances."

At this instant there came up to the spot where the four stood a brother

of one of the two shepherdesses, like them in shepherd costume, and as

richly and gaily dressed as they were. They told him that their companion

was the valiant Don Quixote of La Mancha, and the other Sancho his

squire, of whom he knew already from having read their history. The gay

shepherd offered him his services and begged that he would accompany him

to their tents, and Don Quixote had to give way and comply. And now the

gave was started, and the nets were filled with a variety of birds that

deceived by the colour fell into the danger they were flying from.

Upwards of thirty persons, all gaily attired as shepherds and

shepherdesses, assembled on the spot, and were at once informed who Don

Quixote and his squire were, whereat they were not a little delighted, as

they knew of him already through his history. They repaired to the tents,

where they found tables laid out, and choicely, plentifully, and neatly

furnished. They treated Don Quixote as a person of distinction, giving

him the place of honour, and all observed him, and were full of

astonishment at the spectacle. At last the cloth being removed, Don

Quixote with great composure lifted up his voice and said:

"One of the greatest sins that men are guilty of is--some will say

pride--but I say ingratitude, going by the common saying that hell is

full of ingrates. This sin, so far as it has lain in my power, I have

endeavoured to avoid ever since I have enjoyed the faculty of reason; and

if I am unable to requite good deeds that have been done me by other

deeds, I substitute the desire to do so; and if that be not enough I make

them known publicly; for he who declares and makes known the good deeds

done to him would repay them by others if it were in his power, and for

the most part those who receive are the inferiors of those who give.

Thus, God is superior to all because he is the supreme giver, and the

offerings of man fall short by an infinite distance of being a full

return for the gifts of God; but gratitude in some degree makes up for

this deficiency and shortcoming. I therefore, grateful for the favour

that has been extended to me here, and unable to make a return in the

same measure, restricted as I am by the narrow limits of my power, offer

what I can and what I have to offer in my own way; and so I declare that

for two full days I will maintain in the middle of this highway leading

to Saragossa, that these ladies disguised as shepherdesses, who are here

present, are the fairest and most courteous maidens in the world,

excepting only the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, sole mistress of my

thoughts, be it said without offence to those who hear me, ladies and

gentlemen."

On hearing this Sancho, who had been listening with great attention,

cried out in a loud voice, "Is it possible there is anyone in the world

who will dare to say and swear that this master of mine is a madman? Say,

gentlemen shepherds, is there a village priest, be he ever so wise or

learned, who could say what my master has said; or is there

knight-errant, whatever renown he may have as a man of valour, that could

offer what my master has offered now?"

Don Quixote turned upon Sancho, and with a countenance glowing with anger

said to him, "Is it possible, Sancho, there is anyone in the whole world

who will say thou art not a fool, with a lining to match, and I know not

what trimmings of impertinence and roguery? Who asked thee to meddle in

my affairs, or to inquire whether I am a wise 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 offer into execution; for with the right that I have

on my side thou mayest reckon as vanquished all who shall venture to

question it;" and in a great rage, and showing his anger plainly, he rose

from his seat, leaving the company lost in wonder, and making them feel

doubtful whether they ought to regard him as a madman or a rational

being. In the end, though they sought to dissuade him from involving

himself in such a challenge, assuring him they admitted his gratitude as

fully established, and needed no fresh proofs to be convinced of his

valiant spirit, as those related in the history of his exploits were

sufficient, still Don Quixote persisted in his resolve; and mounted on

Rocinante, bracing his buckler on his arm and grasping his lance, he

posted himself in the middle of a high road that was not far from the

green meadow. Sancho followed on Dapple, together with all the members of

the pastoral gathering, eager to see what would be the upshot of his

vainglorious and extraordinary proposal.

Don Quixote, then, having, as has been said, planted himself in the

middle of the road, made the welkin ring with words to this effect: "Ho

ye travellers and wayfarers, knights, squires, folk on foot or on

horseback, who pass this way or shall pass in the course of the next two

days! Know that Don Quixote of La Mancha, knight-errant, is posted here

to maintain by arms that the beauty and courtesy enshrined in the nymphs

that dwell in these meadows and groves surpass all upon earth, putting

aside the lady of my heart, Dulcinea del Toboso. Wherefore, let him who

is of the opposite opinion come on, for here I await him."

Twice he repeated the same words, and twice they fell unheard by any

adventurer; but fate, that was guiding affairs for him from better to

better, so ordered it that shortly afterwards there appeared on the road

a crowd of men on horseback, many of them with lances in their hands, all

riding in a compact body and in great haste. No sooner had those who were

with Don Quixote seen them than they turned about and withdrew to some

distance from the road, for they knew that if they stayed some harm might

come to them; but Don Quixote with intrepid heart stood his ground, and

Sancho Panza shielded himself with Rocinante's hind-quarters. The troop

of lancers came up, and one of them who was in advance began shouting to

Don Quixote, "Get out of the way, you son of the devil, or these bulls

will knock you to pieces!"

"Rabble!" returned Don Quixote, "I care nothing for bulls, be they the

fiercest Jarama breeds on its banks. Confess at once, scoundrels, that

what I have declared is true; else ye have to deal with me in combat."

The herdsman had no time to reply, nor Don Quixote to get out of the way

even if he wished; and so the drove of fierce bulls and tame bullocks,

together with the crowd of herdsmen and others who were taking them to be

penned up in a village where they were to be run the next day, passed

over Don Quixote and over Sancho, Rocinante and Dapple, hurling them all

to the earth and rolling them over on the ground. Sancho was left

crushed, Don Quixote scared, Dapple belaboured and Rocinante in no very

sound condition.

They all got up, however, at length, and Don Quixote in great haste,

stumbling here and falling there, started off running after the drove,

shouting out, "Hold! stay! ye rascally rabble, a single knight awaits

you, and he is not of the temper or opinion of those who say, 'For a

flying enemy make a bridge of silver.'" The retreating party in their

haste, however, did not stop for that, or heed his menaces any more than

last year's clouds. Weariness brought Don Quixote to a halt, and more

enraged than avenged he sat down on the road to wait until Sancho,

Rocinante and Dapple came up. When they reached him master and man

mounted once more, and without going back to bid farewell to the mock or

imitation Arcadia, and more in humiliation than contentment, they

continued their journey.

	Contents    Prev    Next    Last