PART I - CHAPTER IV.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　OF WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR KNIGHT WHEN HE LEFT THE INNDay was dawning when Don Quixote quitted the inn, so happy, so gay, soexhilarated at finding himself now dubbed a knight, that his joy was liketo burst his horse-girths. However, recalling the advice of his host asto the requisites he ought to carry with him, especially that referringto money and shirts, he determined to go home and provide himself withall, and also with a squire, for he reckoned upon securing afarm-labourer, a neighbour of his, a poor man with a family, but verywell qualified for the office of squire to a knight. With this object heturned his horse's head towards his village, and Rocinante, thus remindedof his old quarters, stepped out so briskly that he hardly seemed totread the earth.He had not gone far, when out of a thicket on his right there seemed tocome feeble cries as of some one in distress, and the instant he heardthem he exclaimed, "Thanks be to heaven for the favour it accords me,that it so soon offers me an opportunity of fulfilling the obligation Ihave undertaken, and gathering the fruit of my ambition. These cries, nodoubt, come from some man or woman in want of help, and needing my aidand protection;" and wheeling, he turned Rocinante in the directionwhence the cries seemed to proceed. He had gone but a few paces into thewood, when he saw a mare tied to an oak, and tied to another, andstripped from the waist upwards, a youth of about fifteen years of age,from whom the cries came. Nor were they without cause, for a lusty farmerwas flogging him with a belt and following up every blow with scoldingsand commands, repeating, "Your mouth shut and your eyes open!" while theyouth made answer, "I won't do it again, master mine; by God's passion Iwon't do it again, and I'll take more care of the flock another time."Seeing what was going on, Don Quixote said in an angry voice,"Discourteous knight, it ill becomes you to assail one who cannot defendhimself; mount your steed and take your lance" (for there was a lanceleaning against the oak to which the mare was tied), "and I will make youknow that you are behaving as a coward." The farmer, seeing before himthis figure in full armour brandishing a lance over his head, gavehimself up for dead, and made answer meekly, "Sir Knight, this youth thatI am chastising is my servant, employed by me to watch a flock of sheepthat I have hard by, and he is so careless that I lose one every day, andwhen I punish him for his carelessness and knavery he says I do it out ofniggardliness, to escape paying him the wages I owe him, and before God,and on my soul, he lies.""Lies before me, base clown!" said Don Quixote. "By the sun that shineson us I have a mind to run you through with this lance. Pay him at oncewithout another word; if not, by the God that rules us I will make an endof you, and annihilate you on the spot; release him instantly."The farmer hung his head, and without a word untied his servant, of whomDon Quixote asked how much his master owed him.He replied, nine months at seven reals a month. Don Quixote added it up,found that it came to sixty-three reals, and told the farmer to pay itdown immediately, if he did not want to die for it.The trembling clown replied that as he lived and by the oath he had sworn(though he had not sworn any) it was not so much; for there were to betaken into account and deducted three pairs of shoes he had given him,and a real for two blood-lettings when he was sick."All that is very well," said Don Quixote; "but let the shoes and theblood-lettings stand as a setoff against the blows you have given himwithout any cause; for if he spoiled the leather of the shoes you paidfor, you have damaged that of his body, and if the barber took blood fromhim when he was sick, you have drawn it when he was sound; so on thatscore he owes you nothing.""The difficulty is, Sir Knight, that I have no money here; let Andrescome home with me, and I will pay him all, real by real.""I go with him!" said the youth. "Nay, God forbid! No, senor, not for theworld; for once alone with me, he would ray me like a Saint Bartholomew.""He will do nothing of the kind," said Don Quixote; "I have only tocommand, and he will obey me; and as he has sworn to me by the order ofknighthood which he has received, I leave him free, and I guarantee thepayment.""Consider what you are saying, senor," said the youth; "this master ofmine is not a knight, nor has he received any order of knighthood; for heis Juan Haldudo the Rich, of Quintanar.""That matters little," replied Don Quixote; "there may be Haldudosknights; moreover, everyone is the son of his works.""That is true," said Andres; "but this master of mine--of what works ishe the son, when he refuses me the wages of my sweat and labour?""I do not refuse, brother Andres," said the farmer, "be good enough tocome along with me, and I swear by all the orders of knighthood there arein the world to pay you as I have agreed, real by real, and perfumed.""For the perfumery I excuse you," said Don Quixote; "give it to him inreals, and I shall be satisfied; and see that you do as you have sworn;if not, by the same oath I swear to come back and hunt you out and punishyou; and I shall find you though you should lie closer than a lizard. Andif you desire to know who it is lays this command upon you, that you bemore firmly bound to obey it, know that I am the valorous Don Quixote ofLa Mancha, the undoer of wrongs and injustices; and so, God be with you,and keep in mind what you have promised and sworn under those penaltiesthat have been already declared to you."So saying, he gave Rocinante the spur and was soon out of reach. Thefarmer followed him with his eyes, and when he saw that he had clearedthe wood and was no longer in sight, he turned to his boy Andres, andsaid, "Come here, my son, I want to pay you what I owe you, as thatundoer of wrongs has commanded me.""My oath on it," said Andres, "your worship will be well advised to obeythe command of that good knight--may he live a thousand years--for, as heis a valiant and just judge, by Roque, if you do not pay me, he will comeback and do as he said.""My oath on it, too," said the farmer; "but as I have a strong affectionfor you, I want to add to the debt in order to add to the payment;" andseizing him by the arm, he tied him up again, and gave him such aflogging that he left him for dead."Now, Master Andres," said the farmer, "call on the undoer of wrongs; youwill find he won't undo that, though I am not sure that I have quite donewith you, for I have a good mind to flay you alive." But at last heuntied him, and gave him leave to go look for his judge in order to putthe sentence pronounced into execution.Andres went off rather down in the mouth, swearing he would go to lookfor the valiant Don Quixote of La Mancha and tell him exactly what hadhappened, and that all would have to be repaid him sevenfold; but for allthat, he went off weeping, while his master stood laughing.Thus did the valiant Don Quixote right that wrong, and, thoroughlysatisfied with what had taken place, as he considered he had made a veryhappy and noble beginning with his knighthood, he took the road towardshis village in perfect self-content, saying in a low voice, "Well mayestthou this day call thyself fortunate above all on earth, O Dulcinea delToboso, fairest of the fair! since it has fallen to thy lot to holdsubject and submissive to thy full will and pleasure a knight so renownedas is and will be Don Quixote of La Mancha, who, as all the world knows,yesterday received the order of knighthood, and hath to-day righted thegreatest wrong and grievance that ever injustice conceived and crueltyperpetrated: who hath to-day plucked the rod from the hand of yonderruthless oppressor so wantonly lashing that tender child."He now came to a road branching in four directions, and immediately hewas reminded of those cross-roads where knights-errant used to stop toconsider which road they should take. In imitation of them he halted fora while, and after having deeply considered it, he gave Rocinante hishead, submitting his own will to that of his hack, who followed out hisfirst intention, which was to make straight for his own stable. After hehad gone about two miles Don Quixote perceived a large party of people,who, as afterwards appeared, were some Toledo traders, on their way tobuy silk at Murcia. There were six of them coming along under theirsunshades, with four servants mounted, and three muleteers on foot.Scarcely had Don Quixote descried them when the fancy possessed him thatthis must be some new adventure; and to help him to imitate as far as hecould those passages he had read of in his books, here seemed to come onemade on purpose, which he resolved to attempt. So with a lofty bearingand determination he fixed himself firmly in his stirrups, got his lanceready, brought his buckler before his breast, and planting himself in themiddle of the road, stood waiting the approach of these knights-errant,for such he now considered and held them to be; and when they had comenear enough to see and hear, he exclaimed with a haughty gesture, "Allthe world stand, unless all the world confess that in all the world thereis no maiden fairer than the Empress of La Mancha, the peerless Dulcineadel Toboso."The traders halted at the sound of this language and the sight of thestrange figure that uttered it, and from both figure and language at onceguessed the craze of their owner; they wished, however, to learn quietlywhat was the object of this confession that was demanded of them, and oneof them, who was rather fond of a joke and was very sharp-witted, said tohim, "Sir Knight, we do not know who this good lady is that you speak of;show her to us, for, if she be of such beauty as you suggest, with allour hearts and without any pressure we will confess the truth that is onyour part required of us.""If I were to show her to you," replied Don Quixote, "what merit wouldyou have in confessing a truth so manifest? The essential point is thatwithout seeing her you must believe, confess, affirm, swear, and defendit; else ye have to do with me in battle, ill-conditioned, arrogantrabble that ye are; and come ye on, one by one as the order of knighthoodrequires, or all together as is the custom and vile usage of your breed,here do I bide and await you relying on the justice of the cause Imaintain.""Sir Knight," replied the trader, "I entreat your worship in the name ofthis present company of princes, that, to save us from charging ourconsciences with the confession of a thing we have never seen or heardof, and one moreover so much to the prejudice of the Empresses and Queensof the Alcarria and Estremadura, your worship will be pleased to show ussome portrait of this lady, though it be no bigger than a grain of wheat;for by the thread one gets at the ball, and in this way we shall besatisfied and easy, and you will be content and pleased; nay, I believewe are already so far agreed with you that even though her portraitshould show her blind of one eye, and distilling vermilion and sulphurfrom the other, we would nevertheless, to gratify your worship, say allin her favour that you desire.""She distils nothing of the kind, vile rabble," said Don Quixote, burningwith rage, "nothing of the kind, I say, only ambergris and civet incotton; nor is she one-eyed or humpbacked, but straighter than aGuadarrama spindle: but ye must pay for the blasphemy ye have utteredagainst beauty like that of my lady."And so saying, he charged with levelled lance against the one who hadspoken, with such fury and fierceness that, if luck had not contrivedthat Rocinante should stumble midway and come down, it would have gonehard with the rash trader. Down went Rocinante, and over went his master,rolling along the ground for some distance; and when he tried to rise hewas unable, so encumbered was he with lance, buckler, spurs, helmet, andthe weight of his old armour; and all the while he was struggling to getup he kept saying, "Fly not, cowards and caitiffs! stay, for not by myfault, but my horse's, am I stretched here."One of the muleteers in attendance, who could not have had much goodnature in him, hearing the poor prostrate man blustering in this style,was unable to refrain from giving him an answer on his ribs; and comingup to him he seized his lance, and having broken it in pieces, with oneof them he began so to belabour our Don Quixote that, notwithstanding andin spite of his armour, he milled him like a measure of wheat. Hismasters called out not to lay on so hard and to leave him alone, but themuleteers blood was up, and he did not care to drop the game until he hadvented the rest of his wrath, and gathering up the remaining fragments ofthe lance he finished with a discharge upon the unhappy victim, who allthrough the storm of sticks that rained on him never ceased threateningheaven, and earth, and the brigands, for such they seemed to him. At lastthe muleteer was tired, and the traders continued their journey, takingwith them matter for talk about the poor fellow who had been cudgelled.He when he found himself alone made another effort to rise; but if he wasunable when whole and sound, how was he to rise after having beenthrashed and well-nigh knocked to pieces? And yet he esteemed himselffortunate, as it seemed to him that this was a regular knight-errant'smishap, and entirely, he considered, the fault of his horse. However,battered in body as he was, to rise was beyond his power.