DON QUIXOTE

 Volume II. 

 Part 27. 

 by Miguel de Cervantes

 Translated by John Ormsby

CHAPTER XXVI. 

WHEREIN IS CONTINUED THE DROLL ADVENTURE OF THE PUPPET-SHOWMAN, TOGETHERWITH OTHER THINGS IN TRUTH RIGHT GOOD

All were silent, Tyrians and Trojans; I mean all who were watching theshow were hanging on the lips of the interpreter of its wonders, whendrums and trumpets were heard to sound inside it and cannon to go off. The noise was soon over, and then the boy lifted up his voice and said, "This true story which is here represented to your worships is taken wordfor word from the French chronicles and from the Spanish ballads that arein everybody's mouth, and in the mouth of the boys about the streets. Itssubject is the release by Senor Don Gaiferos of his wife Melisendra, whena captive in Spain at the hands of the Moors in the city of Sansuena, forso they called then what is now called Saragossa; and there you may seehow Don Gaiferos is playing at the tables, just as they sing it--

At tables playing Don Gaiferos sits, For Melisendra is forgotten now. 

And that personage who appears there with a crown on his head and asceptre in his hand is the Emperor Charlemagne, the supposed father ofMelisendra, who, angered to see his son-in-law's inaction and unconcern, comes in to chide him; and observe with what vehemence and energy hechides him, so that you would fancy he was going to give him half a dozenraps with his sceptre; and indeed there are authors who say he did givethem, and sound ones too; and after having said a great deal to him aboutimperilling his honour by not effecting the release of his wife, he said, so the tale runs, Enough I've said, see to it now. 

Observe, too, how the emperor turns away, and leaves Don Gaiferos fuming;and you see now how in a burst of anger, he flings the table and theboard far from him and calls in haste for his armour, and asks his cousinDon Roland for the loan of his sword, Durindana, and how Don Rolandrefuses to lend it, offering him his company in the difficult enterprisehe is undertaking; but he, in his valour and anger, will not accept it, and says that he alone will suffice to rescue his wife, even though shewere imprisoned deep in the centre of the earth, and with this he retiresto arm himself and set out on his journey at once. Now let your worshipsturn your eyes to that tower that appears there, which is supposed to beone of the towers of the alcazar of Saragossa, now called the Aljaferia;that lady who appears on that balcony dressed in Moorish fashion is thepeerless Melisendra, for many a time she used to gaze from thence uponthe road to France, and seek consolation in her captivity by thinking ofParis and her husband. Observe, too, a new incident which now occurs, such as, perhaps, never was seen. Do you not see that Moor, who silentlyand stealthily, with his finger on his lip, approaches Melisendra frombehind? Observe now how he prints a kiss upon her lips, and what a hurryshe is in to spit, and wipe them with the white sleeve of her smock, andhow she bewails herself, and tears her fair hair as though it were toblame for the wrong. Observe, too, that the stately Moor who is in thatcorridor is King Marsilio of Sansuena, who, having seen the Moor'sinsolence, at once orders him (though his kinsman and a great favouriteof his) to be seized and given two hundred lashes, while carried throughthe streets of the city according to custom, with criers going before himand officers of justice behind; and here you see them come out to executethe sentence, although the offence has been scarcely committed; for amongthe Moors there are no indictments nor remands as with us. "

Here Don Quixote called out, "Child, child, go straight on with yourstory, and don't run into curves and slants, for to establish a factclearly there is need of a great deal of proof and confirmation;" andsaid Master Pedro from within, "Boy, stick to your text and do as thegentleman bids you; it's the best plan; keep to your plain song, anddon't attempt harmonies, for they are apt to break down from being overfine. "

"I will, " said the boy, and he went on to say, "This figure that you seehere on horseback, covered with a Gascon cloak, is Don Gaiferos himself, whom his wife, now avenged of the insult of the amorous Moor, and takingher stand on the balcony of the tower with a calmer and more tranquilcountenance, has perceived without recognising him; and she addresses herhusband, supposing him to be some traveller, and holds with him all thatconversation and colloquy in the ballad that runs--

If you, sir knight, to France are bound, Oh! for Gaiferos ask--

which I do not repeat here because prolixity begets disgust; suffice itto observe how Don Gaiferos discovers himself, and that by her joyfulgestures Melisendra shows us she has recognised him; and what is more, wenow see she lowers herself from the balcony to place herself on thehaunches of her good husband's horse. But ah! unhappy lady, the edge ofher petticoat has caught on one of the bars of the balcony and she isleft hanging in the air, unable to reach the ground. But you see howcompassionate heaven sends aid in our sorest need; Don Gaiferos advances, and without minding whether the rich petticoat is torn or not, he seizesher and by force brings her to the ground, and then with one jerk placesher on the haunches of his horse, astraddle like a man, and bids her holdon tight and clasp her arms round his neck, crossing them on his breastso as not to fall, for the lady Melisendra was not used to that style ofriding. You see, too, how the neighing of the horse shows hissatisfaction with the gallant and beautiful burden he bears in his lordand lady. You see how they wheel round and quit the city, and in joy andgladness take the road to Paris. Go in peace, O peerless pair of truelovers! May you reach your longed-for fatherland in safety, and mayfortune interpose no impediment to your prosperous journey; may the eyesof your friends and kinsmen behold you enjoying in peace and tranquillitythe remaining days of your life--and that they may be as many as those ofNestor!"

Here Master Pedro called out again and said, "Simplicity, boy! None ofyour high flights; all affectation is bad. "

The interpreter made no answer, but went on to say, "There was no want ofidle eyes, that see everything, to see Melisendra come down and mount, and word was brought to King Marsilio, who at once gave orders to soundthe alarm; and see what a stir there is, and how the city is drowned withthe sound of the bells pealing in the towers of all the mosques. "

"Nay, nay, " said Don Quixote at this; "on that point of the bells MasterPedro is very inaccurate, for bells are not in use among the Moors; onlykettledrums, and a kind of small trumpet somewhat like our clarion; toring bells this way in Sansuena is unquestionably a great absurdity. "

On hearing this, Master Pedro stopped ringing, and said, "Don't look intotrifles, Senor Don Quixote, or want to have things up to a pitch ofperfection that is out of reach. Are there not almost every day athousand comedies represented all round us full of thousands ofinaccuracies and absurdities, and, for all that, they have a successfulrun, and are listened to not only with applause, but with admiration andall the rest of it? Go on, boy, and don't mind; for so long as I fill mypouch, no matter if I show as many inaccuracies as there are motes in asunbeam. "

"True enough, " said Don Quixote; and the boy went on: "See what anumerous and glittering crowd of horsemen issues from the city in pursuitof the two faithful lovers, what a blowing of trumpets there is, whatsounding of horns, what beating of drums and tabors; I fear me they willovertake them and bring them back tied to the tail of their own horse, which would be a dreadful sight. "

Don Quixote, however, seeing such a swarm of Moors and hearing such adin, thought it would be right to aid the fugitives, and standing up heexclaimed in a loud voice, "Never, while I live, will I permit foul playto be practised in my presence on such a famous knight and fearless loveras Don Gaiferos. Halt! ill-born rabble, follow him not nor pursue him, orye will have to reckon with me in battle!" and suiting the action to theword, he drew his sword, and with one bound placed himself close to theshow, and with unexampled rapidity and fury began to shower down blows onthe puppet troop of Moors, knocking over some, decapitating others, maiming this one and demolishing that; and among many more he deliveredone down stroke which, if Master Pedro had not ducked, made himselfsmall, and got out of the way, would have sliced off his head as easilyas if it had been made of almond-paste. Master Pedro kept shouting, "Holdhard! Senor Don Quixote! can't you see they're not real Moors you'reknocking down and killing and destroying, but only little pasteboardfigures! Look--sinner that I am!--how you're wrecking and ruining allthat I'm worth!" But in spite of this, Don Quixote did not leave offdischarging a continuous rain of cuts, slashes, downstrokes, andbackstrokes, and at length, in less than the space of two credos, hebrought the whole show to the ground, with all its fittings and figuresshivered and knocked to pieces, King Marsilio badly wounded, and theEmperor Charlemagne with his crown and head split in two. The wholeaudience was thrown into confusion, the ape fled to the roof of the inn, the cousin was frightened, and even Sancho Panza himself was in mightyfear, for, as he swore after the storm was over, he had never seen hismaster in such a furious passion. 

The complete destruction of the show being thus accomplished, Don Quixotebecame a little calmer, said, "I wish I had here before me now all thosewho do not or will not believe how useful knights-errant are in theworld; just think, if I had not been here present, what would have becomeof the brave Don Gaiferos and the fair Melisendra! Depend upon it, bythis time those dogs would have overtaken them and inflicted some outrageupon them. So, then, long live knight-errantry beyond everything livingon earth this day!"

"Let it live, and welcome, " said Master Pedro at this in a feeble voice, "and let me die, for I am so unfortunate that I can say with King DonRodrigo--

Yesterday was I lord of SpainTo-day I've not a turret leftThat I may call mine own. 

Not half an hour, nay, barely a minute ago, I saw myself lord of kingsand emperors, with my stables filled with countless horses, and my trunksand bags with gay dresses unnumbered; and now I find myself ruined andlaid low, destitute and a beggar, and above all without my ape, for, bymy faith, my teeth will have to sweat for it before I have him caught;and all through the reckless fury of sir knight here, who, they say, protects the fatherless, and rights wrongs, and does other charitabledeeds; but whose generous intentions have been found wanting in my caseonly, blessed and praised be the highest heavens! Verily, knight of therueful figure he must be to have disfigured mine. "

Sancho Panza was touched by Master Pedro's words, and said to him, "Don'tweep and lament, Master Pedro; you break my heart; let me tell you mymaster, Don Quixote, is so catholic and scrupulous a Christian that, ifhe can make out that he has done you any wrong, he will own it, and bewilling to pay for it and make it good, and something over and above. "

"Only let Senor Don Quixote pay me for some part of the work he hasdestroyed, " said Master Pedro, "and I would be content, and his worshipwould ease his conscience, for he cannot be saved who keeps what isanother's against the owner's will, and makes no restitution. "

"That is true, " said Don Quixote; "but at present I am not aware that Ihave got anything of yours, Master Pedro. "

"What!" returned Master Pedro; "and these relics lying here on the barehard ground--what scattered and shattered them but the invinciblestrength of that mighty arm? And whose were the bodies they belonged tobut mine? And what did I get my living by but by them?"

"Now am I fully convinced, " said Don Quixote, "of what I had many a timebefore believed; that the enchanters who persecute me do nothing morethan put figures like these before my eyes, and then change and turn theminto what they please. In truth and earnest, I assure you gentlemen whonow hear me, that to me everything that has taken place here seemed totake place literally, that Melisendra was Melisendra, Don Gaiferos DonGaiferos, Marsilio Marsilio, and Charlemagne Charlemagne. That was why myanger was roused; and to be faithful to my calling as a knight-errant Isought to give aid and protection to those who fled, and with this goodintention I did what you have seen. If the result has been the oppositeof what I intended, it is no fault of mine, but of those wicked beingsthat persecute me; but, for all that, I am willing to condemn myself incosts for this error of mine, though it did not proceed from malice; letMaster Pedro see what he wants for the spoiled figures, for I agree topay it at once in good and current money of Castile. "

Master Pedro made him a bow, saying, "I expected no less of the rareChristianity of the valiant Don Quixote of La Mancha, true helper andprotector of all destitute and needy vagabonds; master landlord here andthe great Sancho Panza shall be the arbitrators and appraisers betweenyour worship and me of what these dilapidated figures are worth or may beworth. "

The landlord and Sancho consented, and then Master Pedro picked up fromthe ground King Marsilio of Saragossa with his head off, and said, "Hereyou see how impossible it is to restore this king to his former state, soI think, saving your better judgments, that for his death, decease, anddemise, four reals and a half may be given me. "

"Proceed, " said Don Quixote. 

"Well then, for this cleavage from top to bottom, " continued MasterPedro, taking up the split Emperor Charlemagne, "it would not be much ifI were to ask five reals and a quarter. "

"It's not little, " said Sancho. 

"Nor is it much, " said the landlord; "make it even, and say five reals. "

"Let him have the whole five and a quarter, " said Don Quixote; "for thesum total of this notable disaster does not stand on a quarter more orless; and make an end of it quickly, Master Pedro, for it's getting on tosupper-time, and I have some hints of hunger. "

"For this figure, " said Master Pedro, "that is without a nose, and wantsan eye, and is the fair Melisendra, I ask, and I am reasonable in mycharge, two reals and twelve maravedis. "

"The very devil must be in it, " said Don Quixote, "if Melisendra and herhusband are not by this time at least on the French border, for the horsethey rode on seemed to me to fly rather than gallop; so you needn't tryto sell me the cat for the hare, showing me here a noseless Melisendrawhen she is now, may be, enjoying herself at her ease with her husband inFrance. God help every one to his own, Master Pedro, and let us allproceed fairly and honestly; and now go on. "

Master Pedro, perceiving that Don Quixote was beginning to wander, andreturn to his original fancy, was not disposed to let him escape, so hesaid to him, "This cannot be Melisendra, but must be one of the damselsthat waited on her; so if I'm given sixty maravedis for her, I'll becontent and sufficiently paid. "

And so he went on, putting values on ever so many more smashed figures, which, after the two arbitrators had adjusted them to the satisfaction ofboth parties, came to forty reals and three-quarters; and over and abovethis sum, which Sancho at once disbursed, Master Pedro asked for tworeals for his trouble in catching the ape. 

"Let him have them, Sancho, " said Don Quixote; "not to catch the ape, butto get drunk; and two hundred would I give this minute for the good news, to anyone who could tell me positively, that the lady Dona Melisandra andSenor Don Gaiferos were now in France and with their own people. "

"No one could tell us that better than my ape, " said Master Pedro; "butthere's no devil that could catch him now; I suspect, however, thataffection and hunger will drive him to come looking for me to-night; butto-morrow will soon be here and we shall see. "

In short, the puppet-show storm passed off, and all supped in peace andgood fellowship at Don Quixote's expense, for he was the height ofgenerosity. Before it was daylight the man with the lances and halberdstook his departure, and soon after daybreak the cousin and the page cameto bid Don Quixote farewell, the former returning home, the latterresuming his journey, towards which, to help him, Don Quixote gave himtwelve reals. Master Pedro did not care to engage in any more palaverwith Don Quixote, whom he knew right well; so he rose before the sun, andhaving got together the remains of his show and caught his ape, he toowent off to seek his adventures. The landlord, who did not know DonQuixote, was as much astonished at his mad freaks as at his generosity. To conclude, Sancho, by his master's orders, paid him very liberally, andtaking leave of him they quitted the inn at about eight in the morningand took to the road, where we will leave them to pursue their journey, for this is necessary in order to allow certain other matters to be setforth, which are required to clear up this famous history. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

WHEREIN IT IS SHOWN WHO MASTER PEDRO AND HIS APE WERE, TOGETHER WITH THEMISHAP DON QUIXOTE HAD IN THE BRAYING ADVENTURE, WHICH HE DID NOTCONCLUDE AS HE WOULD HAVE LIKED OR AS HE HAD EXPECTED

Cide Hamete, the chronicler of this great history, begins this chapterwith these words, "I swear as a Catholic Christian;" with regard to whichhis translator says that Cide Hamete's swearing as a Catholic Christian, he being--as no doubt he was--a Moor, only meant that, just as a CatholicChristian taking an oath swears, or ought to swear, what is true, andtell the truth in what he avers, so he was telling the truth, as much asif he swore as a Catholic Christian, in all he chose to write aboutQuixote, especially in declaring who Master Pedro was and what was thedivining ape that astonished all the villages with his divinations. Hesays, then, that he who has read the First Part of this history willremember well enough the Gines de Pasamonte whom, with other galleyslaves, Don Quixote set free in the Sierra Morena: a kindness for whichhe afterwards got poor thanks and worse payment from that evil-minded, ill-conditioned set. This Gines de Pasamonte--Don Ginesillo de Parapilla, Don Quixote called him--it was that stole Dapple from Sancho Panza;which, because by the fault of the printers neither the how nor the whenwas stated in the First Part, has been a puzzle to a good many people, who attribute to the bad memory of the author what was the error of thepress. In fact, however, Gines stole him while Sancho Panza was asleep onhis back, adopting the plan and device that Brunello had recourse to whenhe stole Sacripante's horse from between his legs at the siege ofAlbracca; and, as has been told, Sancho afterwards recovered him. ThisGines, then, afraid of being caught by the officers of justice, who werelooking for him to punish him for his numberless rascalities and offences(which were so many and so great that he himself wrote a big book givingan account of them), resolved to shift his quarters into the kingdom ofAragon, and cover up his left eye, and take up the trade of apuppet-showman; for this, as well as juggling, he knew how to practise toperfection. From some released Christians returning from Barbary, it sohappened, he bought the ape, which he taught to mount upon his shoulderon his making a certain sign, and to whisper, or seem to do so, in hisear. Thus prepared, before entering any village whither he was bound withhis show and his ape, he used to inform himself at the nearest village, or from the most likely person he could find, as to what particularthings had happened there, and to whom; and bearing them well in mind, the first thing he did was to exhibit his show, sometimes one story, sometimes another, but all lively, amusing, and familiar. As soon as theexhibition was over he brought forward the accomplishments of his ape, assuring the public that he divined all the past and the present, but asto the future he had no skill. For each question answered he asked tworeals, and for some he made a reduction, just as he happened to feel thepulse of the questioners; and when now and then he came to houses wherethings that he knew of had happened to the people living there, even ifthey did not ask him a question, not caring to pay for it, he would makethe sign to the ape and then declare that it had said so and so, whichfitted the case exactly. In this way he acquired a prodigious name andall ran after him; on other occasions, being very crafty, he would answerin such a way that the answers suited the questions; and as no onecross-questioned him or pressed him to tell how his ape divined, he madefools of them all and filled his pouch. The instant he entered the inn heknew Don Quixote and Sancho, and with that knowledge it was easy for himto astonish them and all who were there; but it would have cost him dearhad Don Quixote brought down his hand a little lower when he cut off KingMarsilio's head and destroyed all his horsemen, as related in thepreceeding chapter. 

So much for Master Pedro and his ape; and now to return to Don Quixote ofLa Mancha. After he had left the inn he determined to visit, first ofall, the banks of the Ebro and that neighbourhood, before entering thecity of Saragossa, for the ample time there was still to spare before thejousts left him enough for all. With this object in view he followed theroad and travelled along it for two days, without meeting any adventureworth committing to writing until on the third day, as he was ascending ahill, he heard a great noise of drums, trumpets, and musket-shots. Atfirst he imagined some regiment of soldiers was passing that way, and tosee them he spurred Rocinante and mounted the hill. On reaching the tophe saw at the foot of it over two hundred men, as it seemed to him, armedwith weapons of various sorts, lances, crossbows, partisans, halberds, and pikes, and a few muskets and a great many bucklers. He descended theslope and approached the band near enough to see distinctly the flags, make out the colours and distinguish the devices they bore, especiallyone on a standard or ensign of white satin, on which there was painted ina very life-like style an ass like a little sard, with its head up, itsmouth open and its tongue out, as if it were in the act and attitude ofbraying; and round it were inscribed in large characters these two lines--

They did not bray in vain, Our alcaldes twain. 

From this device Don Quixote concluded that these people must be from thebraying town, and he said so to Sancho, explaining to him what waswritten on the standard. At the same time he observed that the man whohad told them about the matter was wrong in saying that the two whobrayed were regidors, for according to the lines of the standard theywere alcaldes. To which Sancho replied, "Senor, there's nothing to stickat in that, for maybe the regidors who brayed then came to be alcaldes oftheir town afterwards, and so they may go by both titles; moreover, ithas nothing to do with the truth of the story whether the brayers werealcaldes or regidors, provided at any rate they did bray; for an alcaldeis just as likely to bray as a regidor. " They perceived, in short, clearly that the town which had been twitted had turned out to do battlewith some other that had jeered it more than was fair or neighbourly. 

Don Quixote proceeded to join them, not a little to Sancho's uneasiness, for he never relished mixing himself up in expeditions of that sort. Themembers of the troop received him into the midst of them, taking him tobe some one who was on their side. Don Quixote, putting up his visor, advanced with an easy bearing and demeanour to the standard with the ass, and all the chief men of the army gathered round him to look at him, staring at him with the usual amazement that everybody felt on seeing himfor the first time. Don Quixote, seeing them examining him soattentively, and that none of them spoke to him or put any question tohim, determined to take advantage of their silence; so, breaking his own, he lifted up his voice and said, "Worthy sirs, I entreat you as earnestlyas I can not to interrupt an argument I wish to address to you, until youfind it displeases or wearies you; and if that come to pass, on theslightest hint you give me I will put a seal upon my lips and a gag uponmy tongue. "

They all bade him say what he liked, for they would listen to himwillingly. 

With this permission Don Quixote went on to say, "I, sirs, am aknight-errant whose calling is that of arms, and whose profession is toprotect those who require protection, and give help to such as stand inneed of it. Some days ago I became acquainted with your misfortune andthe cause which impels you to take up arms again and again to revengeyourselves upon your enemies; and having many times thought over yourbusiness in my mind, I find that, according to the laws of combat, youare mistaken in holding yourselves insulted; for a private individualcannot insult an entire community; unless it be by defying itcollectively as a traitor, because he cannot tell who in particular isguilty of the treason for which he defies it. Of this we have an examplein Don Diego Ordonez de Lara, who defied the whole town of Zamora, because he did not know that Vellido Dolfos alone had committed thetreachery of slaying his king; and therefore he defied them all, and thevengeance and the reply concerned all; though, to be sure, Senor DonDiego went rather too far, indeed very much beyond the limits of adefiance; for he had no occasion to defy the dead, or the waters, or thefishes, or those yet unborn, and all the rest of it as set forth; but letthat pass, for when anger breaks out there's no father, governor, orbridle to check the tongue. The case being, then, that no one person caninsult a kingdom, province, city, state, or entire community, it is clearthere is no reason for going out to avenge the defiance of such aninsult, inasmuch as it is not one. A fine thing it would be if the peopleof the clock town were to be at loggerheads every moment with everyonewho called them by that name, --or the Cazoleros, Berengeneros, Ballenatos, Jaboneros, or the bearers of all the other names and titlesthat are always in the mouth of the boys and common people! It would be anice business indeed if all these illustrious cities were to take huffand revenge themselves and go about perpetually making trombones of theirswords in every petty quarrel! No, no; God forbid! There are four thingsfor which sensible men and well-ordered States ought to take up arms, draw their swords, and risk their persons, lives, and properties. Thefirst is to defend the Catholic faith; the second, to defend one's life, which is in accordance with natural and divine law; the third, in defenceof one's honour, family, and property; the fourth, in the service ofone's king in a just war; and if to these we choose to add a fifth (whichmay be included in the second), in defence of one's country. To thesefive, as it were capital causes, there may be added some others that maybe just and reasonable, and make it a duty to take up arms; but to takethem up for trifles and things to laugh at and he amused by rather thanoffended, looks as though he who did so was altogether wanting in commonsense. Moreover, to take an unjust revenge (and there cannot be any justone) is directly opposed to the sacred law that we acknowledge, whereinwe are commanded to do good to our enemies and to love them that hate us;a command which, though it seems somewhat difficult to obey, is only soto those who have in them less of God than of the world, and more of theflesh than of the spirit; for Jesus Christ, God and true man, who neverlied, and could not and cannot lie, said, as our law-giver, that his yokewas easy and his burden light; he would not, therefore, have laid anycommand upon us that it was impossible to obey. Thus, sirs, you are boundto keep quiet by human and divine law. "

"The devil take me, " said Sancho to himself at this, "but this master ofmine is a tologian; or, if not, faith, he's as like one as one egg islike another. "

Don Quixote stopped to take breath, and, observing that silence was stillpreserved, had a mind to continue his discourse, and would have done sohad not Sancho interposed with his smartness; for he, seeing his masterpause, took the lead, saying, "My lord Don Quixote of La Mancha, who oncewas called the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, but now is called theKnight of the Lions, is a gentleman of great discretion who knows Latinand his mother tongue like a bachelor, and in everything that he dealswith or advises proceeds like a good soldier, and has all the laws andordinances of what they call combat at his fingers' ends; so you havenothing to do but to let yourselves be guided by what he says, and on myhead be it if it is wrong. Besides which, you have been told that it isfolly to take offence at merely hearing a bray. I remember when I was aboy I brayed as often as I had a fancy, without anyone hindering me, andso elegantly and naturally that when I brayed all the asses in the townwould bray; but I was none the less for that the son of my parents whowere greatly respected; and though I was envied because of the gift bymore than one of the high and mighty ones of the town, I did not care twofarthings for it; and that you may see I am telling the truth, wait a bitand listen, for this art, like swimming, once learnt is never forgotten;"and then, taking hold of his nose, he began to bray so vigorously thatall the valleys around rang again. 

One of those, however, that stood near him, fancying he was mocking them, lifted up a long staff he had in his hand and smote him such a blow withit that Sancho dropped helpless to the ground. Don Quixote, seeing him soroughly handled, attacked the man who had struck him lance in hand, butso many thrust themselves between them that he could not avenge him. Farfrom it, finding a shower of stones rained upon him, and crossbows andmuskets unnumbered levelled at him, he wheeled Rocinante round and, asfast as his best gallop could take him, fled from the midst of them, commending himself to God with all his heart to deliver him out of thisperil, in dread every step of some ball coming in at his back and comingout at his breast, and every minute drawing his breath to see whether ithad gone from him. The members of the band, however, were satisfied withseeing him take to flight, and did not fire on him. They put up Sancho, scarcely restored to his senses, on his ass, and let him go after hismaster; not that he was sufficiently in his wits to guide the beast, butDapple followed the footsteps of Rocinante, from whom he could not remaina moment separated. Don Quixote having got some way off looked back, andseeing Sancho coming, waited for him, as he perceived that no onefollowed him. The men of the troop stood their ground till night, and asthe enemy did not come out to battle, they returned to their townexulting; and had they been aware of the ancient custom of the Greeks, they would have erected a trophy on the spot. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

OF MATTERS THAT BENENGELI SAYS HE WHO READS THEM WILL KNOW, IF HE READSTHEM WITH ATTENTION

When the brave man flees, treachery is manifest and it is for wise men toreserve themselves for better occasions. This proved to be the case withDon Quixote, who, giving way before the fury of the townsfolk and thehostile intentions of the angry troop, took to flight and, without athought of Sancho or the danger in which he was leaving him, retreated tosuch a distance as he thought made him safe. Sancho, lying across hisass, followed him, as has been said, and at length came up, having bythis time recovered his senses, and on joining him let himself drop offDapple at Rocinante's feet, sore, bruised, and belaboured. Don Quixotedismounted to examine his wounds, but finding him whole from head tofoot, he said to him, angrily enough, "In an evil hour didst thou take tobraying, Sancho! Where hast thou learned that it is well done to mentionthe rope in the house of the man that has been hanged? To the music ofbrays what harmonies couldst thou expect to get but cudgels? Give thanksto God, Sancho, that they signed the cross on thee just now with a stick, and did not mark thee per signum crucis with a cutlass. "

"I'm not equal to answering, " said Sancho, "for I feel as if I wasspeaking through my shoulders; let us mount and get away from this; I'llkeep from braying, but not from saying that knights-errant fly and leavetheir good squires to be pounded like privet, or made meal of at thehands of their enemies. "

"He does not fly who retires, " returned Don Quixote; "for I would havethee know, Sancho, that the valour which is not based upon a foundationof prudence is called rashness, and the exploits of the rash man are tobe attributed rather to good fortune than to courage; and so I own that Iretired, but not that I fled; and therein I have followed the example ofmany valiant men who have reserved themselves for better times; thehistories are full of instances of this, but as it would not be any goodto thee or pleasure to me, I will not recount them to thee now. "

Sancho was by this time mounted with the help of Don Quixote, who thenhimself mounted Rocinante, and at a leisurely pace they proceeded to takeshelter in a grove which was in sight about a quarter of a league off. Every now and then Sancho gave vent to deep sighs and dismal groans, andon Don Quixote asking him what caused such acute suffering, he repliedthat, from the end of his back-bone up to the nape of his neck, he was sosore that it nearly drove him out of his senses. 

"The cause of that soreness, " said Don Quixote, "will be, no doubt, thatthe staff wherewith they smote thee being a very long one, it caught theeall down the back, where all the parts that are sore are situated, andhad it reached any further thou wouldst be sorer still. "

"By God, " said Sancho, "your worship has relieved me of a great doubt, and cleared up the point for me in elegant style! Body o' me! is thecause of my soreness such a mystery that there's any need to tell me I amsore everywhere the staff hit me? If it was my ankles that pained methere might be something in going divining why they did, but it is notmuch to divine that I'm sore where they thrashed me. By my faith, mastermine, the ills of others hang by a hair; every day I am discovering moreand more how little I have to hope for from keeping company with yourworship; for if this time you have allowed me to be drubbed, the nexttime, or a hundred times more, we'll have the blanketings of the otherday over again, and all the other pranks which, if they have fallen on myshoulders now, will be thrown in my teeth by-and-by. I would do a greatdeal better (if I was not an ignorant brute that will never do any goodall my life), I would do a great deal better, I say, to go home to mywife and children and support them and bring them up on what God mayplease to give me, instead of following your worship along roads thatlead nowhere and paths that are none at all, with little to drink andless to eat. And then when it comes to sleeping! Measure out seven feeton the earth, brother squire, and if that's not enough for you, take asmany more, for you may have it all your own way and stretch yourself toyour heart's content. Oh that I could see burnt and turned to ashes thefirst man that meddled with knight-errantry or at any rate the first whochose to be squire to such fools as all the knights-errant of past timesmust have been! Of those of the present day I say nothing, because, asyour worship is one of them, I respect them, and because I know yourworship knows a point more than the devil in all you say and think. "

"I would lay a good wager with you, Sancho, " said Don Quixote, "that nowthat you are talking on without anyone to stop you, you don't feel a painin your whole body. Talk away, my son, say whatever comes into your heador mouth, for so long as you feel no pain, the irritation yourimpertinences give me will be a pleasure to me; and if you are so anxiousto go home to your wife and children, God forbid that I should preventyou; you have money of mine; see how long it is since we left our villagethis third time, and how much you can and ought to earn every month, andpay yourself out of your own hand. "

"When I worked for Tom Carrasco, the father of the bachelor SamsonCarrasco that your worship knows, " replied Sancho, "I used to earn twoducats a month besides my food; I can't tell what I can earn with yourworship, though I know a knight-errant's squire has harder times of itthan he who works for a farmer; for after all, we who work for farmers, however much we toil all day, at the worst, at night, we have our ollasupper and sleep in a bed, which I have not slept in since I have been inyour worship's service, if it wasn't the short time we were in Don Diegode Miranda's house, and the feast I had with the skimmings I took offCamacho's pots, and what I ate, drank, and slept in Basilio's house; allthe rest of the time I have been sleeping on the hard ground under theopen sky, exposed to what they call the inclemencies of heaven, keepinglife in me with scraps of cheese and crusts of bread, and drinking watereither from the brooks or from the springs we come to on these by-pathswe travel. "

"I own, Sancho, " said Don Quixote, "that all thou sayest is true; howmuch, thinkest thou, ought I to give thee over and above what TomCarrasco gave thee?"

"I think, " said Sancho, "that if your worship was to add on two reals amonth I'd consider myself well paid; that is, as far as the wages of mylabour go; but to make up to me for your worship's pledge and promise tome to give me the government of an island, it would be fair to add sixreals more, making thirty in all. "

"Very good, " said Don Quixote; "it is twenty-five days since we left ourvillage, so reckon up, Sancho, according to the wages you have made outfor yourself, and see how much I owe you in proportion, and pay yourself, as I said before, out of your own hand. "

"O body o' me!" said Sancho, "but your worship is very much out in thatreckoning; for when it comes to the promise of the island we must countfrom the day your worship promised it to me to this present hour we areat now. "

"Well, how long is it, Sancho, since I promised it to you?" said DonQuixote. 

"If I remember rightly, " said Sancho, "it must be over twenty years, three days more or less. "

Don Quixote gave himself a great slap on the forehead and began to laughheartily, and said he, "Why, I have not been wandering, either in theSierra Morena or in the whole course of our sallies, but barely twomonths, and thou sayest, Sancho, that it is twenty years since I promisedthee the island. I believe now thou wouldst have all the money thou hastof mine go in thy wages. If so, and if that be thy pleasure, I give it tothee now, once and for all, and much good may it do thee, for so long asI see myself rid of such a good-for-nothing squire I'll be glad to beleft a pauper without a rap. But tell me, thou perverter of the squirelyrules of knight-errantry, where hast thou ever seen or read that anyknight-errant's squire made terms with his lord, 'you must give me somuch a month for serving you'? Plunge, scoundrel, rogue, monster--forsuch I take thee to be--plunge, I say, into the mare magnum of theirhistories; and if thou shalt find that any squire ever said or thoughtwhat thou hast said now, I will let thee nail it on my forehead, and giveme, over and above, four sound slaps in the face. Turn the rein, or thehalter, of thy Dapple, and begone home; for one single step further thoushalt not make in my company. O bread thanklessly received! O promisesill-bestowed! O man more beast than human being! Now, when I was about toraise thee to such a position, that, in spite of thy wife, they wouldcall thee 'my lord, ' thou art leaving me? Thou art going now when I had afirm and fixed intention of making thee lord of the best island in theworld? Well, as thou thyself hast said before now, honey is not for themouth of the ass. Ass thou art, ass thou wilt be, and ass thou wilt endwhen the course of thy life is run; for I know it will come to its closebefore thou dost perceive or discern that thou art a beast. "

Sancho regarded Don Quixote earnestly while he was giving him thisrating, and was so touched by remorse that the tears came to his eyes, and in a piteous and broken voice he said to him, "Master mine, I confessthat, to be a complete ass, all I want is a tail; if your worship willonly fix one on to me, I'll look on it as rightly placed, and I'll serveyou as an ass all the remaining days of my life. Forgive me and have pityon my folly, and remember I know but little, and, if I talk much, it'smore from infirmity than malice; but he who sins and mends commendshimself to God. "

"I should have been surprised, Sancho, " said Don Quixote, "if thou hadstnot introduced some bit of a proverb into thy speech. Well, well, Iforgive thee, provided thou dost mend and not show thyself in future sofond of thine own interest, but try to be of good cheer and take heart, and encourage thyself to look forward to the fulfillment of my promises, which, by being delayed, does not become impossible. "

Sancho said he would do so, and keep up his heart as best he could. Theythen entered the grove, and Don Quixote settled himself at the foot of anelm, and Sancho at that of a beech, for trees of this kind and otherslike them always have feet but no hands. Sancho passed the night in pain, for with the evening dews the blow of the staff made itself felt all themore. Don Quixote passed it in his never-failing meditations; but, forall that, they had some winks of sleep, and with the appearance ofdaylight they pursued their journey in quest of the banks of the famousEbro, where that befell them which will be told in the following chapter.