PART I - CHAPTER III.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　WHEREIN IS RELATED THE DROLL WAY IN WHICH DON QUIXOTE HAD HIMSELF DUBBEDA KNIGHTHarassed by this reflection, he made haste with his scanty pothousesupper, and having finished it called the landlord, and shutting himselfinto the stable with him, fell on his knees before him, saying, "Fromthis spot I rise not, valiant knight, until your courtesy grants me theboon I seek, one that will redound to your praise and the benefit of thehuman race." The landlord, seeing his guest at his feet and hearing aspeech of this kind, stood staring at him in bewilderment, not knowingwhat to do or say, and entreating him to rise, but all to no purposeuntil he had agreed to grant the boon demanded of him. "I looked for noless, my lord, from your High Magnificence," replied Don Quixote, "and Ihave to tell you that the boon I have asked and your liberality hasgranted is that you shall dub me knight to-morrow morning, and thatto-night I shall watch my arms in the chapel of this your castle; thustomorrow, as I have said, will be accomplished what I so much desire,enabling me lawfully to roam through all the four quarters of the worldseeking adventures on behalf of those in distress, as is the duty ofchivalry and of knights-errant like myself, whose ambition is directed tosuch deeds."The landlord, who, as has been mentioned, was something of a wag, and hadalready some suspicion of his guest's want of wits, was quite convincedof it on hearing talk of this kind from him, and to make sport for thenight he determined to fall in with his humour. So he told him he wasquite right in pursuing the object he had in view, and that such a motivewas natural and becoming in cavaliers as distinguished as he seemed andhis gallant bearing showed him to be; and that he himself in his youngerdays had followed the same honourable calling, roaming in quest ofadventures in various parts of the world, among others the Curing-groundsof Malaga, the Isles of Riaran, the Precinct of Seville, the LittleMarket of Segovia, the Olivera of Valencia, the Rondilla of Granada, theStrand of San Lucar, the Colt of Cordova, the Taverns of Toledo, anddivers other quarters, where he had proved the nimbleness of his feet andthe lightness of his fingers, doing many wrongs, cheating many widows,ruining maids and swindling minors, and, in short, bringing himself underthe notice of almost every tribunal and court of justice in Spain; untilat last he had retired to this castle of his, where he was living uponhis property and upon that of others; and where he received allknights-errant of whatever rank or condition they might be, all for thegreat love he bore them and that they might share their substance withhim in return for his benevolence. He told him, moreover, that in thiscastle of his there was no chapel in which he could watch his armour, asit had been pulled down in order to be rebuilt, but that in a case ofnecessity it might, he knew, be watched anywhere, and he might watch itthat night in a courtyard of the castle, and in the morning, God willing,the requisite ceremonies might be performed so as to have him dubbed aknight, and so thoroughly dubbed that nobody could be more so. He askedif he had any money with him, to which Don Quixote replied that he hadnot a farthing, as in the histories of knights-errant he had never readof any of them carrying any. On this point the landlord told him he wasmistaken; for, though not recorded in the histories, because in theauthor's opinion there was no need to mention anything so obvious andnecessary as money and clean shirts, it was not to be supposed thereforethat they did not carry them, and he might regard it as certain andestablished that all knights-errant (about whom there were so many fulland unimpeachable books) carried well-furnished purses in case ofemergency, and likewise carried shirts and a little box of ointment tocure the wounds they received. For in those plains and deserts where theyengaged in combat and came out wounded, it was not always that there wassome one to cure them, unless indeed they had for a friend some sagemagician to succour them at once by fetching through the air upon a cloudsome damsel or dwarf with a vial of water of such virtue that by tastingone drop of it they were cured of their hurts and wounds in an instantand left as sound as if they had not received any damage whatever. But incase this should not occur, the knights of old took care to see thattheir squires were provided with money and other requisites, such as lintand ointments for healing purposes; and when it happened that knights hadno squires (which was rarely and seldom the case) they themselves carriedeverything in cunning saddle-bags that were hardly seen on the horse'scroup, as if it were something else of more importance, because, unlessfor some such reason, carrying saddle-bags was not very favourablyregarded among knights-errant. He therefore advised him (and, as hisgodson so soon to be, he might even command him) never from that timeforth to travel without money and the usual requirements, and he wouldfind the advantage of them when he least expected it.Don Quixote promised to follow his advice scrupulously, and it wasarranged forthwith that he should watch his armour in a large yard at oneside of the inn; so, collecting it all together, Don Quixote placed it ona trough that stood by the side of a well, and bracing his buckler on hisarm he grasped his lance and began with a stately air to march up anddown in front of the trough, and as he began his march night began tofall.The landlord told all the people who were in the inn about the craze ofhis guest, the watching of the armour, and the dubbing ceremony hecontemplated. Full of wonder at so strange a form of madness, theyflocked to see it from a distance, and observed with what composure hesometimes paced up and down, or sometimes, leaning on his lance, gazed onhis armour without taking his eyes off it for ever so long; and as thenight closed in with a light from the moon so brilliant that it might viewith his that lent it, everything the novice knight did was plainly seenby all.Meanwhile one of the carriers who were in the inn thought fit to waterhis team, and it was necessary to remove Don Quixote's armour as it layon the trough; but he seeing the other approach hailed him in a loudvoice, "O thou, whoever thou art, rash knight that comest to lay hands onthe armour of the most valorous errant that ever girt on sword, have acare what thou dost; touch it not unless thou wouldst lay down thy lifeas the penalty of thy rashness." The carrier gave no heed to these words(and he would have done better to heed them if he had been heedful of hishealth), but seizing it by the straps flung the armour some distance fromhim. Seeing this, Don Quixote raised his eyes to heaven, and fixing histhoughts, apparently, upon his lady Dulcinea, exclaimed, "Aid me, ladymine, in this the first encounter that presents itself to this breastwhich thou holdest in subjection; let not thy favour and protection failme in this first jeopardy;" and, with these words and others to the samepurpose, dropping his buckler he lifted his lance with both hands andwith it smote such a blow on the carrier's head that he stretched him onthe ground, so stunned that had he followed it up with a second therewould have been no need of a surgeon to cure him. This done, he picked uphis armour and returned to his beat with the same serenity as before.Shortly after this, another, not knowing what had happened (for thecarrier still lay senseless), came with the same object of giving waterto his mules, and was proceeding to remove the armour in order to clearthe trough, when Don Quixote, without uttering a word or imploring aidfrom anyone, once more dropped his buckler and once more lifted hislance, and without actually breaking the second carrier's head intopieces, made more than three of it, for he laid it open in four. At thenoise all the people of the inn ran to the spot, and among them thelandlord. Seeing this, Don Quixote braced his buckler on his arm, andwith his hand on his sword exclaimed, "O Lady of Beauty, strength andsupport of my faint heart, it is time for thee to turn the eyes of thygreatness on this thy captive knight on the brink of so mighty anadventure." By this he felt himself so inspired that he would not haveflinched if all the carriers in the world had assailed him. The comradesof the wounded perceiving the plight they were in began from a distanceto shower stones on Don Quixote, who screened himself as best he couldwith his buckler, not daring to quit the trough and leave his armourunprotected. The landlord shouted to them to leave him alone, for he hadalready told them that he was mad, and as a madman he would not beaccountable even if he killed them all. Still louder shouted Don Quixote,calling them knaves and traitors, and the lord of the castle, who allowedknights-errant to be treated in this fashion, a villain and a low-bornknight whom, had he received the order of knighthood, he would call toaccount for his treachery. "But of you," he cried, "base and vile rabble,I make no account; fling, strike, come on, do all ye can against me, yeshall see what the reward of your folly and insolence will be." This heuttered with so much spirit and boldness that he filled his assailantswith a terrible fear, and as much for this reason as at the persuasion ofthe landlord they left off stoning him, and he allowed them to carry offthe wounded, and with the same calmness and composure as before resumedthe watch over his armour.But these freaks of his guest were not much to the liking of thelandlord, so he determined to cut matters short and confer upon him atonce the unlucky order of knighthood before any further misadventurecould occur; so, going up to him, he apologised for the rudeness which,without his knowledge, had been offered to him by these low people, who,however, had been well punished for their audacity. As he had alreadytold him, he said, there was no chapel in the castle, nor was it neededfor what remained to be done, for, as he understood the ceremonial of theorder, the whole point of being dubbed a knight lay in the accolade andin the slap on the shoulder, and that could be administered in the middleof a field; and that he had now done all that was needful as to watchingthe armour, for all requirements were satisfied by a watch of two hoursonly, while he had been more than four about it. Don Quixote believed itall, and told him he stood there ready to obey him, and to make an end ofit with as much despatch as possible; for, if he were again attacked, andfelt himself to be dubbed knight, he would not, he thought, leave a soulalive in the castle, except such as out of respect he might spare at hisbidding.Thus warned and menaced, the castellan forthwith brought out a book inwhich he used to enter the straw and barley he served out to thecarriers, and, with a lad carrying a candle-end, and the two damselsalready mentioned, he returned to where Don Quixote stood, and bade himkneel down. Then, reading from his account-book as if he were repeatingsome devout prayer, in the middle of his delivery he raised his hand andgave him a sturdy blow on the neck, and then, with his own sword, a smartslap on the shoulder, all the while muttering between his teeth as if hewas saying his prayers. Having done this, he directed one of the ladiesto gird on his sword, which she did with great self-possession andgravity, and not a little was required to prevent a burst of laughter ateach stage of the ceremony; but what they had already seen of the noviceknight's prowess kept their laughter within bounds. On girding him withthe sword the worthy lady said to him, "May God make your worship a veryfortunate knight, and grant you success in battle." Don Quixote asked hername in order that he might from that time forward know to whom he wasbeholden for the favour he had received, as he meant to confer upon hersome portion of the honour he acquired by the might of his arm. Sheanswered with great humility that she was called La Tolosa, and that shewas the daughter of a cobbler of Toledo who lived in the stalls ofSanchobienaya, and that wherever she might be she would serve and esteemhim as her lord. Don Quixote said in reply that she would do him a favourif thenceforward she assumed the "Don" and called herself Dona Tolosa.She promised she would, and then the other buckled on his spur, and withher followed almost the same conversation as with the lady of the sword.He asked her name, and she said it was La Molinera, and that she was thedaughter of a respectable miller of Antequera; and of her likewise DonQuixote requested that she would adopt the "Don" and call herself DonaMolinera, making offers to her further services and favours.Having thus, with hot haste and speed, brought to a conclusion thesenever-till-now-seen ceremonies, Don Quixote was on thorns until he sawhimself on horseback sallying forth in quest of adventures; and saddlingRocinante at once he mounted, and embracing his host, as he returnedthanks for his kindness in knighting him, he addressed him in language soextraordinary that it is impossible to convey an idea of it or report it.The landlord, to get him out of the inn, replied with no less rhetoricthough with shorter words, and without calling upon him to pay thereckoning let him go with a Godspeed.