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VOLUME[ VOLUME 1  ]  

CHAPTER[ XVIII. IN WHICH IS RELATED THE DISCOURSE SANCHO PANZA HELD WITH HIS MASTER, DON

QUIXOTE, AND OTHER ADVENTURES WORTH RELATING

Sancho reached his master so limp and faint that he could not urge on his

beast. When Don Quixote saw the state he was in he said, "I have now come

to the conclusion, good Sancho, that this castle or inn is beyond a doubt

enchanted, because those who have so atrociously diverted themselves with

thee, what can they be but phantoms or beings of another world? and I

hold this confirmed by having noticed that when I was by the wall of the

yard witnessing the acts of thy sad tragedy, it was out of my power to

mount upon it, nor could I even dismount from Rocinante, because they no

doubt had me enchanted; for I swear to thee by the faith of what I am

that if I had been able to climb up or dismount, I would have avenged

thee in such a way that those braggart thieves would have remembered

their freak for ever, even though in so doing I knew that I contravened

the laws of chivalry, which, as I have often told thee, do not permit a

knight to lay hands on him who is not one, save in case of urgent and

great necessity in defence of his own life and person."

"I would have avenged myself too if I could," said Sancho, "whether I had

been dubbed knight or not, but I could not; though for my part I am

persuaded those who amused themselves with me were not phantoms or

enchanted men, as your worship says, but men of flesh and bone like

ourselves; and they all had their names, for I heard them name them when

they were tossing me, and one was called Pedro Martinez, and another

Tenorio Hernandez, and the innkeeper, I heard, was called Juan Palomeque

the Left-handed; so that, senor, your not being able to leap over the

wall of the yard or dismount from your horse came of something else

besides enchantments; and what I make out clearly from all this is, that

these adventures we go seeking will in the end lead us into such

misadventures that we shall not know which is our right foot; and that

the best and wisest thing, according to my small wits, would be for us to

return home, now that it is harvest-time, and attend to our business, and

give over wandering from Zeca to Mecca and from pail to bucket, as the

saying is."

"How little thou knowest about chivalry, Sancho," replied Don Quixote;

"hold thy peace and have patience; the day will come when thou shalt see

with thine own eyes what an honourable thing it is to wander in the

pursuit of this calling; nay, tell me, what greater pleasure can there be

in the world, or what delight can equal that of winning a battle, and

triumphing over one's enemy? None, beyond all doubt."

"Very likely," answered Sancho, "though I do not know it; all I know is

that since we have been knights-errant, or since your worship has been

one (for I have no right to reckon myself one of so honourable a number)

we have never won any battle except the one with the Biscayan, and even

out of that your worship came with half an ear and half a helmet the

less; and from that till now it has been all cudgellings and more

cudgellings, cuffs and more cuffs, I getting the blanketing over and

above, and falling in with enchanted persons on whom I cannot avenge

myself so as to know what the delight, as your worship calls it, of

conquering an enemy is like."

"That is what vexes me, and what ought to vex thee, Sancho," replied Don

Quixote; "but henceforward I will endeavour to have at hand some sword

made by such craft that no kind of enchantments can take effect upon him

who carries it, and it is even possible that fortune may procure for me

that which belonged to Amadis when he was called 'The Knight of the

Burning Sword,' which was one of the best swords that ever knight in the

world possessed, for, besides having the said virtue, it cut like a

razor, and there was no armour, however strong and enchanted it might be,

that could resist it."

"Such is my luck," said Sancho, "that even if that happened and your

worship found some such sword, it would, like the balsam, turn out

serviceable and good for dubbed knights only, and as for the squires,

they might sup sorrow."

"Fear not that, Sancho," said Don Quixote: "Heaven will deal better by

thee."

Thus talking, Don Quixote and his squire were going along, when, on the

road they were following, Don Quixote perceived approaching them a large

and thick cloud of dust, on seeing which he turned to Sancho and said:

"This is the day, Sancho, on which will be seen the boon my fortune is

reserving for me; this, I say, is the day on which as much as on any

other shall be displayed the might of my arm, and on which I shall do

deeds that shall remain written in the book of fame for all ages to come.

Seest thou that cloud of dust which rises yonder? Well, then, all that is

churned up by a vast army composed of various and countless nations that

comes marching there."

"According to that there must be two," said Sancho, "for on this opposite

side also there rises just such another cloud of dust."

Don Quixote turned to look and found that it was true, and rejoicing

exceedingly, he concluded that they were two armies about to engage and

encounter in the midst of that broad plain; for at all times and seasons

his fancy was full of the battles, enchantments, adventures, crazy feats,

loves, and defiances that are recorded in the books of chivalry, and

everything he said, thought, or did had reference to such things. Now the

cloud of dust he had seen was raised by two great droves of sheep coming

along the same road in opposite directions, which, because of the dust,

did not become visible until they drew near, but Don Quixote asserted so

positively that they were armies that Sancho was led to believe it and

say, "Well, and what are we to do, senor?"

"What?" said Don Quixote: "give aid and assistance to the weak and those

who need it; and thou must know, Sancho, that this which comes opposite

to us is conducted and led by the mighty emperor Alifanfaron, lord of the

great isle of Trapobana; this other that marches behind me is that of his

enemy the king of the Garamantas, Pentapolin of the Bare Arm, for he

always goes into battle with his right arm bare."

"But why are these two lords such enemies?"

"They are at enmity," replied Don Quixote, "because this Alifanfaron is a

furious pagan and is in love with the daughter of Pentapolin, who is a

very beautiful and moreover gracious lady, and a Christian, and her

father is unwilling to bestow her upon the pagan king unless he first

abandons the religion of his false prophet Mahomet, and adopts his own."

"By my beard," said Sancho, "but Pentapolin does quite right, and I will

help him as much as I can."

"In that thou wilt do what is thy duty, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for

to engage in battles of this sort it is not requisite to be a dubbed

knight."

"That I can well understand," answered Sancho; "but where shall we put

this ass where we may be sure to find him after the fray is over? for I

believe it has not been the custom so far to go into battle on a beast of

this kind."

"That is true," said Don Quixote, "and what you had best do with him is

to leave him to take his chance whether he be lost or not, for the horses

we shall have when we come out victors will be so many that even

Rocinante will run a risk of being changed for another. But attend to me

and observe, for I wish to give thee some account of the chief knights

who accompany these two armies; and that thou mayest the better see and

mark, let us withdraw to that hillock which rises yonder, whence both

armies may be seen."

They did so, and placed themselves on a rising ground from which the two

droves that Don Quixote made armies of might have been plainly seen if

the clouds of dust they raised had not obscured them and blinded the

sight; nevertheless, seeing in his imagination what he did not see and

what did not exist, he began thus in a loud voice:

"That knight whom thou seest yonder in yellow armour, who bears upon his

shield a lion crowned crouching at the feet of a damsel, is the valiant

Laurcalco, lord of the Silver Bridge; that one in armour with flowers of

gold, who bears on his shield three crowns argent on an azure field, is

the dreaded Micocolembo, grand duke of Quirocia; that other of gigantic

frame, on his right hand, is the ever dauntless Brandabarbaran de

Boliche, lord of the three Arabias, who for armour wears that serpent

skin, and has for shield a gate which, according to tradition, is one of

those of the temple that Samson brought to the ground when by his death

he revenged himself upon his enemies. But turn thine eyes to the other

side, and thou shalt see in front and in the van of this other army the

ever victorious and never vanquished Timonel of Carcajona, prince of New

Biscay, who comes in armour with arms quartered azure, vert, white, and

yellow, and bears on his shield a cat or on a field tawny with a motto

which says Miau, which is the beginning of the name of his lady, who

according to report is the peerless Miaulina, daughter of the duke

Alfeniquen of the Algarve; the other, who burdens and presses the loins

of that powerful charger and bears arms white as snow and a shield blank

and without any device, is a novice knight, a Frenchman by birth, Pierres

Papin by name, lord of the baronies of Utrique; that other, who with

iron-shod heels strikes the flanks of that nimble parti-coloured zebra,

and for arms bears azure vair, is the mighty duke of Nerbia,

Espartafilardo del Bosque, who bears for device on his shield an

asparagus plant with a motto in Castilian that says, Rastrea mi suerte."

And so he went on naming a number of knights of one squadron or the other

out of his imagination, and to all he assigned off-hand their arms,

colours, devices, and mottoes, carried away by the illusions of his

unheard-of craze; and without a pause, he continued, "People of divers

nations compose this squadron in front; here are those that drink of the

sweet waters of the famous Xanthus, those that scour the woody Massilian

plains, those that sift the pure fine gold of Arabia Felix, those that

enjoy the famed cool banks of the crystal Thermodon, those that in many

and various ways divert the streams of the golden Pactolus, the

Numidians, faithless in their promises, the Persians renowned in archery,

the Parthians and the Medes that fight as they fly, the Arabs that ever

shift their dwellings, the Scythians as cruel as they are fair, the

Ethiopians with pierced lips, and an infinity of other nations whose

features I recognise and descry, though I cannot recall their names. In

this other squadron there come those that drink of the crystal streams of

the olive-bearing Betis, those that make smooth their countenances with

the water of the ever rich and golden Tagus, those that rejoice in the

fertilising flow of the divine Genil, those that roam the Tartesian

plains abounding in pasture, those that take their pleasure in the

Elysian meadows of Jerez, the rich Manchegans crowned with ruddy ears of

corn, the wearers of iron, old relics of the Gothic race, those that

bathe in the Pisuerga renowned for its gentle current, those that feed

their herds along the spreading pastures of the winding Guadiana famed

for its hidden course, those that tremble with the cold of the pineclad

Pyrenees or the dazzling snows of the lofty Apennine; in a word, as many

as all Europe includes and contains."

Good God! what a number of countries and nations he named! giving to each

its proper attributes with marvellous readiness; brimful and saturated

with what he had read in his lying books! Sancho Panza hung upon his

words without speaking, and from time to time turned to try if he could

see the knights and giants his master was describing, and as he could not

make out one of them he said to him:

"Senor, devil take it if there's a sign of any man you talk of, knight or

giant, in the whole thing; maybe it's all enchantment, like the phantoms

last night."

"How canst thou say that!" answered Don Quixote; "dost thou not hear the

neighing of the steeds, the braying of the trumpets, the roll of the

drums?"

"I hear nothing but a great bleating of ewes and sheep," said Sancho;

which was true, for by this time the two flocks had come close.

"The fear thou art in, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "prevents thee from

seeing or hearing correctly, for one of the effects of fear is to derange

the senses and make things appear different from what they are; if thou

art in such fear, withdraw to one side and leave me to myself, for alone

I suffice to bring victory to that side to which I shall give my aid;"

and so saying he gave Rocinante the spur, and putting the lance in rest,

shot down the slope like a thunderbolt. Sancho shouted after him, crying,

"Come back, Senor Don Quixote; I vow to God they are sheep and ewes you

are charging! Come back! Unlucky the father that begot me! what madness

is this! Look, there is no giant, nor knight, nor cats, nor arms, nor

shields quartered or whole, nor vair azure or bedevilled. What are you

about? Sinner that I am before God!" But not for all these entreaties did

Don Quixote turn back; on the contrary he went on shouting out, "Ho,

knights, ye who follow and fight under the banners of the valiant emperor

Pentapolin of the Bare Arm, follow me all; ye shall see how easily I

shall give him his revenge over his enemy Alifanfaron of the Trapobana."

So saying, he dashed into the midst of the squadron of ewes, and began

spearing them with as much spirit and intrepidity as if he were

transfixing mortal enemies in earnest. The shepherds and drovers

accompanying the flock shouted to him to desist; seeing it was no use,

they ungirt their slings and began to salute his ears with stones as big

as one's fist. Don Quixote gave no heed to the stones, but, letting drive

right and left kept saying:

"Where art thou, proud Alifanfaron? Come before me; I am a single knight

who would fain prove thy prowess hand to hand, and make thee yield thy

life a penalty for the wrong thou dost to the valiant Pentapolin

Garamanta." Here came a sugar-plum from the brook that struck him on the

side and buried a couple of ribs in his body. Feeling himself so smitten,

he imagined himself slain or badly wounded for certain, and recollecting

his liquor he drew out his flask, and putting it to his mouth began to

pour the contents into his stomach; but ere he had succeeded in

swallowing what seemed to him enough, there came another almond which

struck him on the hand and on the flask so fairly that it smashed it to

pieces, knocking three or four teeth and grinders out of his mouth in its

course, and sorely crushing two fingers of his hand. Such was the force

of the first blow and of the second, that the poor knight in spite of

himself came down backwards off his horse. The shepherds came up, and

felt sure they had killed him; so in all haste they collected their flock

together, took up the dead beasts, of which there were more than seven,

and made off without waiting to ascertain anything further.

All this time Sancho stood on the hill watching the crazy feats his

master was performing, and tearing his beard and cursing the hour and the

occasion when fortune had made him acquainted with him. Seeing him, then,

brought to the ground, and that the shepherds had taken themselves off,

he ran to him and found him in very bad case, though not unconscious; and

said he:

"Did I not tell you to come back, Senor Don Quixote; and that what you

were going to attack were not armies but droves of sheep?"

"That's how that thief of a sage, my enemy, can alter and falsify

things," answered Don Quixote; "thou must know, Sancho, that it is a very

easy matter for those of his sort to make us believe what they choose;

and this malignant being who persecutes me, envious of the glory he knew

I was to win in this battle, has turned the squadrons of the enemy into

droves of sheep. At any rate, do this much, I beg of thee, Sancho, to

undeceive thyself, and see that what I say is true; mount thy ass and

follow them quietly, and thou shalt see that when they have gone some

little distance from this they will return to their original shape and,

ceasing to be sheep, become men in all respects as I described them to

thee at first. But go not just yet, for I want thy help and assistance;

come hither, and see how many of my teeth and grinders are missing, for I

feel as if there was not one left in my mouth."

Sancho came so close that he almost put his eyes into his mouth; now just

at that moment the balsam had acted on the stomach of Don Quixote, so, at

the very instant when Sancho came to examine his mouth, he discharged all

its contents with more force than a musket, and full into the beard of

the compassionate squire.

"Holy Mary!" cried Sancho, "what is this that has happened me? Clearly

this sinner is mortally wounded, as he vomits blood from the mouth;" but

considering the matter a little more closely he perceived by the colour,

taste, and smell, that it was not blood but the balsam from the flask

which he had seen him drink; and he was taken with such a loathing that

his stomach turned, and he vomited up his inside over his very master,

and both were left in a precious state. Sancho ran to his ass to get

something wherewith to clean himself, and relieve his master, out of his

alforjas; but not finding them, he well-nigh took leave of his senses,

and cursed himself anew, and in his heart resolved to quit his master and

return home, even though he forfeited the wages of his service and all

hopes of the promised island.

Don Quixote now rose, and putting his left hand to his mouth to keep his

teeth from falling out altogether, with the other he laid hold of the

bridle of Rocinante, who had never stirred from his master's side--so

loyal and well-behaved was he--and betook himself to where the squire

stood leaning over his ass with his hand to his cheek, like one in deep

dejection. Seeing him in this mood, looking so sad, Don Quixote said to

him:

"Bear in mind, Sancho, that one man is no more than another, unless he

does more than another; all these tempests that fall upon us are signs

that fair weather is coming shortly, and that things will go well with

us, for it is impossible for good or evil to last for ever; and hence it

follows that the evil having lasted long, the good must be now nigh at

hand; so thou must not distress thyself at the misfortunes which happen

to me, since thou hast no share in them."

"How have I not?" replied Sancho; "was he whom they blanketed yesterday

perchance any other than my father's son? and the alforjas that are

missing to-day with all my treasures, did they belong to any other but

myself?"

"What! are the alforjas missing, Sancho?" said Don Quixote.

"Yes, they are missing," answered Sancho.

"In that case we have nothing to eat to-day," replied Don Quixote.

"It would be so," answered Sancho, "if there were none of the herbs your

worship says you know in these meadows, those with which knights-errant

as unlucky as your worship are wont to supply such-like shortcomings."

"For all that," answered Don Quixote, "I would rather have just now a

quarter of bread, or a loaf and a couple of pilchards' heads, than all

the herbs described by Dioscorides, even with Doctor Laguna's notes.

Nevertheless, Sancho the Good, mount thy beast and come along with me,

for God, who provides for all things, will not fail us (more especially

when we are so active in his service as we are), since he fails not the

midges of the air, nor the grubs of the earth, nor the tadpoles of the

water, and is so merciful that he maketh his sun to rise on the good and

on the evil, and sendeth rain on the unjust and on the just."

"Your worship would make a better preacher than knight-errant," said

Sancho.

"Knights-errant knew and ought to know everything, Sancho," said Don

Quixote; "for there were knights-errant in former times as well qualified

to deliver a sermon or discourse in the middle of an encampment, as if

they had graduated in the University of Paris; whereby we may see that

the lance has never blunted the pen, nor the pen the lance."

"Well, be it as your worship says," replied Sancho; "let us be off now

and find some place of shelter for the night, and God grant it may be

somewhere where there are no blankets, nor blanketeers, nor phantoms, nor

enchanted Moors; for if there are, may the devil take the whole concern."

"Ask that of God, my son," said Don Quixote; "and do thou lead on where

thou wilt, for this time I leave our lodging to thy choice; but reach me

here thy hand, and feel with thy finger, and find out how many of my

teeth and grinders are missing from this right side of the upper jaw, for

it is there I feel the pain."

Sancho put in his fingers, and feeling about asked him, "How many

grinders used your worship have on this side?"

"Four," replied Don Quixote, "besides the back-tooth, all whole and quite

sound."

"Mind what you are saying, senor."

"I say four, if not five," answered Don Quixote, "for never in my life

have I had tooth or grinder drawn, nor has any fallen out or been

destroyed by any decay or rheum."

"Well, then," said Sancho, "in this lower side your worship has no more

than two grinders and a half, and in the upper neither a half nor any at

all, for it is all as smooth as the palm of my hand."

"Luckless that I am!" said Don Quixote, hearing the sad news his squire

gave him; "I had rather they despoiled me of an arm, so it were not the

sword-arm; for I tell thee, Sancho, a mouth without teeth is like a mill

without a millstone, and a tooth is much more to be prized than a

diamond; but we who profess the austere order of chivalry are liable to

all this. Mount, friend, and lead the way, and I will follow thee at

whatever pace thou wilt."

Sancho did as he bade him, and proceeded in the direction in which he

thought he might find refuge without quitting the high road, which was

there very much frequented. As they went along, then, at a slow pace--for

the pain in Don Quixote's jaws kept him uneasy and ill-disposed for

speed--Sancho thought it well to amuse and divert him by talk of some

kind, and among the things he said to him was that which will be told in

the following chapter.

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