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VOLUME[ VOLUME 1  ]  

CHAPTER[ XV. IN WHICH IS RELATED THE UNFORTUNATE ADVENTURE THAT DON QUIXOTE FELL IN

WITH WHEN HE FELL OUT WITH CERTAIN HEARTLESS YANGUESANS

The sage Cide Hamete Benengeli relates that as soon as Don Quixote took

leave of his hosts and all who had been present at the burial of

Chrysostom, he and his squire passed into the same wood which they had

seen the shepherdess Marcela enter, and after having wandered for more

than two hours in all directions in search of her without finding her,

they came to a halt in a glade covered with tender grass, beside which

ran a pleasant cool stream that invited and compelled them to pass there

the hours of the noontide heat, which by this time was beginning to come

on oppressively. Don Quixote and Sancho dismounted, and turning Rocinante

and the ass loose to feed on the grass that was there in abundance, they

ransacked the alforjas, and without any ceremony very peacefully and

sociably master and man made their repast on what they found in them.

Sancho had not thought it worth while to hobble Rocinante, feeling sure,

from what he knew of his staidness and freedom from incontinence, that

all the mares in the Cordova pastures would not lead him into an

impropriety. Chance, however, and the devil, who is not always asleep, so

ordained it that feeding in this valley there was a drove of Galician

ponies belonging to certain Yanguesan carriers, whose way it is to take

their midday rest with their teams in places and spots where grass and

water abound; and that where Don Quixote chanced to be suited the

Yanguesans' purpose very well. It so happened, then, that Rocinante took

a fancy to disport himself with their ladyships the ponies, and

abandoning his usual gait and demeanour as he scented them, he, without

asking leave of his master, got up a briskish little trot and hastened to

make known his wishes to them; they, however, it seemed, preferred their

pasture to him, and received him with their heels and teeth to such

effect that they soon broke his girths and left him naked without a

saddle to cover him; but what must have been worse to him was that the

carriers, seeing the violence he was offering to their mares, came

running up armed with stakes, and so belaboured him that they brought him

sorely battered to the ground.

By this time Don Quixote and Sancho, who had witnessed the drubbing of

Rocinante, came up panting, and said Don Quixote to Sancho:

"So far as I can see, friend Sancho, these are not knights but base folk

of low birth: I mention it because thou canst lawfully aid me in taking

due vengeance for the insult offered to Rocinante before our eyes."

"What the devil vengeance can we take," answered Sancho, "if they are

more than twenty, and we no more than two, or, indeed, perhaps not more

than one and a half?"

"I count for a hundred," replied Don Quixote, and without more words he

drew his sword and attacked the Yanguesans and excited and impelled by

the example of his master, Sancho did the same; and to begin with, Don

Quixote delivered a slash at one of them that laid open the leather

jerkin he wore, together with a great portion of his shoulder. The

Yanguesans, seeing themselves assaulted by only two men while they were

so many, betook themselves to their stakes, and driving the two into the

middle they began to lay on with great zeal and energy; in fact, at the

second blow they brought Sancho to the ground, and Don Quixote fared the

same way, all his skill and high mettle availing him nothing, and fate

willed it that he should fall at the feet of Rocinante, who had not yet

risen; whereby it may be seen how furiously stakes can pound in angry

boorish hands.

Then, seeing the mischief they had done, the Yanguesans with all the

haste they could loaded their team and pursued their journey, leaving the

two adventurers a sorry sight and in sorrier mood.

Sancho was the first to come to, and finding himself close to his master

he called to him in a weak and doleful voice, "Senor Don Quixote, ah,

Senor Don Quixote!"

"What wouldst thou, brother Sancho?" answered Don Quixote in the same

feeble suffering tone as Sancho.

"I would like, if it were possible," answered Sancho Panza, "your worship

to give me a couple of sups of that potion of the fiery Blas, if it be

that you have any to hand there; perhaps it will serve for broken bones

as well as for wounds."

"If I only had it here, wretch that I am, what more should we want?" said

Don Quixote; "but I swear to thee, Sancho Panza, on the faith of a

knight-errant, ere two days are over, unless fortune orders otherwise, I

mean to have it in my possession, or my hand will have lost its cunning."

"But in how many does your worship think we shall have the use of our

feet?" answered Sancho Panza.

"For myself I must say I cannot guess how many," said the battered knight

Don Quixote; "but I take all the blame upon myself, for I had no business

to put hand to sword against men who where not dubbed knights like

myself, and so I believe that in punishment for having transgressed the

laws of chivalry the God of battles has permitted this chastisement to be

administered to me; for which reason, brother Sancho, it is well thou

shouldst receive a hint on the matter which I am now about to mention to

thee, for it is of much importance to the welfare of both of us. It is at

when thou shalt see rabble of this sort offering us insult thou art not

to wait till I draw sword against them, for I shall not do so at all; but

do thou draw sword and chastise them to thy heart's content, and if any

knights come to their aid and defence I will take care to defend thee and

assail them with all my might; and thou hast already seen by a thousand

signs and proofs what the might of this strong arm of mine is equal

to"--so uplifted had the poor gentleman become through the victory over

the stout Biscayan.

But Sancho did not so fully approve of his master's admonition as to let

it pass without saying in reply, "Senor, I am a man of peace, meek and

quiet, and I can put up with any affront because I have a wife and

children to support and bring up; so let it be likewise a hint to your

worship, as it cannot be a mandate, that on no account will I draw sword

either against clown or against knight, and that here before God I

forgive the insults that have been offered me, whether they have been,

are, or shall be offered me by high or low, rich or poor, noble or

commoner, not excepting any rank or condition whatsoever."

To all which his master said in reply, "I wish I had breath enough to

speak somewhat easily, and that the pain I feel on this side would abate

so as to let me explain to thee, Panza, the mistake thou makest. Come

now, sinner, suppose the wind of fortune, hitherto so adverse, should

turn in our favour, filling the sails of our desires so that safely and

without impediment we put into port in some one of those islands I have

promised thee, how would it be with thee if on winning it I made thee

lord of it? Why, thou wilt make it well-nigh impossible through not being

a knight nor having any desire to be one, nor possessing the courage nor

the will to avenge insults or defend thy lordship; for thou must know

that in newly conquered kingdoms and provinces the minds of the

inhabitants are never so quiet nor so well disposed to the new lord that

there is no fear of their making some move to change matters once more,

and try, as they say, what chance may do for them; so it is essential

that the new possessor should have good sense to enable him to govern,

and valour to attack and defend himself, whatever may befall him."

"In what has now befallen us," answered Sancho, "I'd have been well

pleased to have that good sense and that valour your worship speaks of,

but I swear on the faith of a poor man I am more fit for plasters than

for arguments. See if your worship can get up, and let us help Rocinante,

though he does not deserve it, for he was the main cause of all this

thrashing. I never thought it of Rocinante, for I took him to be a

virtuous person and as quiet as myself. After all, they say right that it

takes a long time to come to know people, and that there is nothing sure

in this life. Who would have said that, after such mighty slashes as your

worship gave that unlucky knight-errant, there was coming, travelling

post and at the very heels of them, such a great storm of sticks as has

fallen upon our shoulders?"

"And yet thine, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "ought to be used to such

squalls; but mine, reared in soft cloth and fine linen, it is plain they

must feel more keenly the pain of this mishap, and if it were not that I

imagine--why do I say imagine?--know of a certainty that all these

annoyances are very necessary accompaniments of the calling of arms, I

would lay me down here to die of pure vexation."

To this the squire replied, "Senor, as these mishaps are what one reaps

of chivalry, tell me if they happen very often, or if they have their own

fixed times for coming to pass; because it seems to me that after two

harvests we shall be no good for the third, unless God in his infinite

mercy helps us."

"Know, friend Sancho," answered Don Quixote, "that the life of

knights-errant is subject to a thousand dangers and reverses, and neither

more nor less is it within immediate possibility for knights-errant to

become kings and emperors, as experience has shown in the case of many

different knights with whose histories I am thoroughly acquainted; and I

could tell thee now, if the pain would let me, of some who simply by

might of arm have risen to the high stations I have mentioned; and those

same, both before and after, experienced divers misfortunes and miseries;

for the valiant Amadis of Gaul found himself in the power of his mortal

enemy Arcalaus the magician, who, it is positively asserted, holding him

captive, gave him more than two hundred lashes with the reins of his

horse while tied to one of the pillars of a court; and moreover there is

a certain recondite author of no small authority who says that the Knight

of Phoebus, being caught in a certain pitfall, which opened under his

feet in a certain castle, on falling found himself bound hand and foot in

a deep pit underground, where they administered to him one of those

things they call clysters, of sand and snow-water, that well-nigh

finished him; and if he had not been succoured in that sore extremity by

a sage, a great friend of his, it would have gone very hard with the poor

knight; so I may well suffer in company with such worthy folk, for

greater were the indignities which they had to suffer than those which we

suffer. For I would have thee know, Sancho, that wounds caused by any

instruments which happen by chance to be in hand inflict no indignity,

and this is laid down in the law of the duel in express words: if, for

instance, the cobbler strikes another with the last which he has in his

hand, though it be in fact a piece of wood, it cannot be said for that

reason that he whom he struck with it has been cudgelled. I say this lest

thou shouldst imagine that because we have been drubbed in this affray we

have therefore suffered any indignity; for the arms those men carried,

with which they pounded us, were nothing more than their stakes, and not

one of them, so far as I remember, carried rapier, sword, or dagger."

"They gave me no time to see that much," answered Sancho, "for hardly had

I laid hand on my tizona when they signed the cross on my shoulders with

their sticks in such style that they took the sight out of my eyes and

the strength out of my feet, stretching me where I now lie, and where

thinking of whether all those stake-strokes were an indignity or not

gives me no uneasiness, which the pain of the blows does, for they will

remain as deeply impressed on my memory as on my shoulders."

"For all that let me tell thee, brother Panza," said Don Quixote, "that

there is no recollection which time does not put an end to, and no pain

which death does not remove."

"And what greater misfortune can there be," replied Panza, "than the one

that waits for time to put an end to it and death to remove it? If our

mishap were one of those that are cured with a couple of plasters, it

would not be so bad; but I am beginning to think that all the plasters in

a hospital almost won't be enough to put us right."

"No more of that: pluck strength out of weakness, Sancho, as I mean to

do," returned Don Quixote, "and let us see how Rocinante is, for it seems

to me that not the least share of this mishap has fallen to the lot of

the poor beast."

"There is nothing wonderful in that," replied Sancho, "since he is a

knight-errant too; what I wonder at is that my beast should have come off

scot-free where we come out scotched."

"Fortune always leaves a door open in adversity in order to bring relief

to it," said Don Quixote; "I say so because this little beast may now

supply the want of Rocinante, carrying me hence to some castle where I

may be cured of my wounds. And moreover I shall not hold it any dishonour

to be so mounted, for I remember having read how the good old Silenus,

the tutor and instructor of the gay god of laughter, when he entered the

city of the hundred gates, went very contentedly mounted on a handsome

ass."

"It may be true that he went mounted as your worship says," answered

Sancho, "but there is a great difference between going mounted and going

slung like a sack of manure."

To which Don Quixote replied, "Wounds received in battle confer honour

instead of taking it away; and so, friend Panza, say no more, but, as I

told thee before, get up as well as thou canst and put me on top of thy

beast in whatever fashion pleases thee best, and let us go hence ere

night come on and surprise us in these wilds."

"And yet I have heard your worship say," observed Panza, "that it is very

meet for knights-errant to sleep in wastes and deserts, and that they

esteem it very good fortune."

"That is," said Don Quixote, "when they cannot help it, or when they are

in love; and so true is this that there have been knights who have

remained two years on rocks, in sunshine and shade and all the

inclemencies of heaven, without their ladies knowing anything of it; and

one of these was Amadis, when, under the name of Beltenebros, he took up

his abode on the Pena Pobre for--I know not if it was eight years or

eight months, for I am not very sure of the reckoning; at any rate he

stayed there doing penance for I know not what pique the Princess Oriana

had against him; but no more of this now, Sancho, and make haste before a

mishap like Rocinante's befalls the ass."

"The very devil would be in it in that case," said Sancho; and letting

off thirty "ohs," and sixty sighs, and a hundred and twenty maledictions

and execrations on whomsoever it was that had brought him there, he

raised himself, stopping half-way bent like a Turkish bow without power

to bring himself upright, but with all his pains he saddled his ass, who

too had gone astray somewhat, yielding to the excessive licence of the

day; he next raised up Rocinante, and as for him, had he possessed a

tongue to complain with, most assuredly neither Sancho nor his master

would have been behind him.

To be brief, Sancho fixed Don Quixote on the ass and secured Rocinante

with a leading rein, and taking the ass by the halter, he proceeded more

or less in the direction in which it seemed to him the high road might

be; and, as chance was conducting their affairs for them from good to

better, he had not gone a short league when the road came in sight, and

on it he perceived an inn, which to his annoyance and to the delight of

Don Quixote must needs be a castle. Sancho insisted that it was an inn,

and his master that it was not one, but a castle, and the dispute lasted

so long that before the point was settled they had time to reach it, and

into it Sancho entered with all his team without any further controversy.

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