PART I - CHAPTER LII.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　OF THE QUARREL THAT DON QUIXOTE HAD WITH THE GOATHERD, TOGETHER WITH THERARE ADVENTURE OF THE PENITENTS, WHICH WITH AN EXPENDITURE OF SWEAT HEBROUGHT TO A HAPPY CONCLUSIONThe goatherd's tale gave great satisfaction to all the hearers, and thecanon especially enjoyed it, for he had remarked with particularattention the manner in which it had been told, which was as unlike themanner of a clownish goatherd as it was like that of a polished city wit;and he observed that the curate had been quite right in saying that thewoods bred men of learning. They all offered their services to Eugeniobut he who showed himself most liberal in this way was Don Quixote, whosaid to him, "Most assuredly, brother goatherd, if I found myself in aposition to attempt any adventure, I would, this very instant, set out onyour behalf, and would rescue Leandra from that convent (where no doubtshe is kept against her will), in spite of the abbess and all who mighttry to prevent me, and would place her in your hands to deal with heraccording to your will and pleasure, observing, however, the laws ofchivalry which lay down that no violence of any kind is to be offered toany damsel. But I trust in God our Lord that the might of one malignantenchanter may not prove so great but that the power of another betterdisposed may prove superior to it, and then I promise you my support andassistance, as I am bound to do by my profession, which is none otherthan to give aid to the weak and needy."The goatherd eyed him, and noticing Don Quixote's sorry appearance andlooks, he was filled with wonder, and asked the barber, who was next him,"Senor, who is this man who makes such a figure and talks in such astrain?""Who should it be," said the barber, "but the famous Don Quixote of LaMancha, the undoer of injustice, the righter of wrongs, the protector ofdamsels, the terror of giants, and the winner of battles?""That," said the goatherd, "sounds like what one reads in the books ofthe knights-errant, who did all that you say this man does; though it ismy belief that either you are joking, or else this gentleman has emptylodgings in his head.""You are a great scoundrel," said Don Quixote, "and it is you who areempty and a fool. I am fuller than ever was the whoreson bitch that boreyou;" and passing from words to deeds, he caught up a loaf that was nearhim and sent it full in the goatherd's face, with such force that heflattened his nose; but the goatherd, who did not understand jokes, andfound himself roughly handled in such good earnest, paying no respect tocarpet, tablecloth, or diners, sprang upon Don Quixote, and seizing himby the throat with both hands would no doubt have throttled him, had notSancho Panza that instant come to the rescue, and grasping him by theshoulders flung him down on the table, smashing plates, breaking glasses,and upsetting and scattering everything on it. Don Quixote, findinghimself free, strove to get on top of the goatherd, who, with his facecovered with blood, and soundly kicked by Sancho, was on all foursfeeling about for one of the table-knives to take a bloody revenge with.The canon and the curate, however, prevented him, but the barber socontrived it that he got Don Quixote under him, and rained down upon himsuch a shower of fisticuffs that the poor knight's face streamed withblood as freely as his own. The canon and the curate were bursting withlaughter, the officers were capering with delight, and both the one andthe other hissed them on as they do dogs that are worrying one another ina fight. Sancho alone was frantic, for he could not free himself from thegrasp of one of the canon's servants, who kept him from going to hismaster's assistance.At last, while they were all, with the exception of the two bruisers whowere mauling each other, in high glee and enjoyment, they heard a trumpetsound a note so doleful that it made them all look in the directionwhence the sound seemed to come. But the one that was most excited byhearing it was Don Quixote, who though sorely against his will he wasunder the goatherd, and something more than pretty well pummelled, saidto him, "Brother devil (for it is impossible but that thou must be onesince thou hast had might and strength enough to overcome mine), I askthee to agree to a truce for but one hour for the solemn note of yondertrumpet that falls on our ears seems to me to summon me to some newadventure." The goatherd, who was by this time tired of pummelling andbeing pummelled, released him at once, and Don Quixote rising to his feetand turning his eyes to the quarter where the sound had been heard,suddenly saw coming down the slope of a hill several men clad in whitelike penitents.The fact was that the clouds had that year withheld their moisture fromthe earth, and in all the villages of the district they were organisingprocessions, rogations, and penances, imploring God to open the hands ofhis mercy and send the rain; and to this end the people of a village thatwas hard by were going in procession to a holy hermitage there was on oneside of that valley. Don Quixote when he saw the strange garb of thepenitents, without reflecting how often he had seen it before, took itinto his head that this was a case of adventure, and that it fell to himalone as a knight-errant to engage in it; and he was all the moreconfirmed in this notion, by the idea that an image draped in black theyhad with them was some illustrious lady that these villains anddiscourteous thieves were carrying off by force. As soon as this occurredto him he ran with all speed to Rocinante who was grazing at large, andtaking the bridle and the buckler from the saddle-bow, he had him bridledin an instant, and calling to Sancho for his sword he mounted Rocinante,braced his buckler on his arm, and in a loud voice exclaimed to those whostood by, "Now, noble company, ye shall see how important it is thatthere should be knights in the world professing the of knight-errantry;now, I say, ye shall see, by the deliverance of that worthy lady who isborne captive there, whether knights-errant deserve to be held inestimation," and so saying he brought his legs to bear on Rocinante--forhe had no spurs--and at a full canter (for in all this veracious historywe never read of Rocinante fairly galloping) set off to encounter thepenitents, though the curate, the canon, and the barber ran to preventhim. But it was out of their power, nor did he even stop for the shoutsof Sancho calling after him, "Where are you going, Senor Don Quixote?What devils have possessed you to set you on against our Catholic faith?Plague take me! mind, that is a procession of penitents, and the ladythey are carrying on that stand there is the blessed image of theimmaculate Virgin. Take care what you are doing, senor, for this time itmay be safely said you don't know what you are about." Sancho laboured invain, for his master was so bent on coming to quarters with these sheetedfigures and releasing the lady in black that he did not hear a word; andeven had he heard, he would not have turned back if the king had orderedhim. He came up with the procession and reined in Rocinante, who wasalready anxious enough to slacken speed a little, and in a hoarse,excited voice he exclaimed, "You who hide your faces, perhaps because youare not good subjects, pay attention and listen to what I am about to sayto you." The first to halt were those who were carrying the image, andone of the four ecclesiastics who were chanting the Litany, struck by thestrange figure of Don Quixote, the leanness of Rocinante, and the otherludicrous peculiarities he observed, said in reply to him, "Brother, ifyou have anything to say to us say it quickly, for these brethren arewhipping themselves, and we cannot stop, nor is it reasonable we shouldstop to hear anything, unless indeed it is short enough to be said in twowords.""I will say it in one," replied Don Quixote, "and it is this; that atonce, this very instant, ye release that fair lady whose tears and sadaspect show plainly that ye are carrying her off against her will, andthat ye have committed some scandalous outrage against her; and I, whowas born into the world to redress all such like wrongs, will not permityou to advance another step until you have restored to her the libertyshe pines for and deserves."From these words all the hearers concluded that he must be a madman, andbegan to laugh heartily, and their laughter acted like gunpowder on DonQuixote's fury, for drawing his sword without another word he made a rushat the stand. One of those who supported it, leaving the burden to hiscomrades, advanced to meet him, flourishing a forked stick that he hadfor propping up the stand when resting, and with this he caught a mightycut Don Quixote made at him that severed it in two; but with the portionthat remained in his hand he dealt such a thwack on the shoulder of DonQuixote's sword arm (which the buckler could not protect against theclownish assault) that poor Don Quixote came to the ground in a sadplight.Sancho Panza, who was coming on close behind puffing and blowing, seeinghim fall, cried out to his assailant not to strike him again, for he waspoor enchanted knight, who had never harmed anyone all the days of hislife; but what checked the clown was, not Sancho's shouting, but seeingthat Don Quixote did not stir hand or foot; and so, fancying he hadkilled him, he hastily hitched up his tunic under his girdle and took tohis heels across the country like a deer.By this time all Don Quixote's companions had come up to where he lay;but the processionists seeing them come running, and with them theofficers of the Brotherhood with their crossbows, apprehended mischief,and clustering round the image, raised their hoods, and grasped theirscourges, as the priests did their tapers, and awaited the attack,resolved to defend themselves and even to take the offensive againsttheir assailants if they could. Fortune, however, arranged the matterbetter than they expected, for all Sancho did was to fling himself on hismaster's body, raising over him the most doleful and laughablelamentation that ever was heard, for he believed he was dead. The curatewas known to another curate who walked in the procession, and theirrecognition of one another set at rest the apprehensions of both parties;the first then told the other in two words who Don Quixote was, and heand the whole troop of penitents went to see if the poor gentleman wasdead, and heard Sancho Panza saying, with tears in his eyes, "Oh flowerof chivalry, that with one blow of a stick hast ended the course of thywell-spent life! Oh pride of thy race, honour and glory of all La Mancha,nay, of all the world, that for want of thee will be full of evil-doers,no longer in fear of punishment for their misdeeds! Oh thou, generousabove all the Alexanders, since for only eight months of service thouhast given me the best island the sea girds or surrounds! Humble with theproud, haughty with the humble, encounterer of dangers, endurer ofoutrages, enamoured without reason, imitator of the good, scourge of thewicked, enemy of the mean, in short, knight-errant, which is all that canbe said!"At the cries and moans of Sancho, Don Quixote came to himself, and thefirst word he said was, "He who lives separated from you, sweetestDulcinea, has greater miseries to endure than these. Aid me, friendSancho, to mount the enchanted cart, for I am not in a condition to pressthe saddle of Rocinante, as this shoulder is all knocked to pieces.""That I will do with all my heart, senor," said Sancho; "and let usreturn to our village with these gentlemen, who seek your good, and therewe will prepare for making another sally, which may turn out moreprofitable and creditable to us.""Thou art right, Sancho," returned Don Quixote; "It will be wise to letthe malign influence of the stars which now prevails pass off."The canon, the curate, and the barber told him he would act very wiselyin doing as he said; and so, highly amused at Sancho Panza'ssimplicities, they placed Don Quixote in the cart as before. Theprocession once more formed itself in order and proceeded on its road;the goatherd took his leave of the party; the officers of the Brotherhooddeclined to go any farther, and the curate paid them what was due tothem; the canon begged the curate to let him know how Don Quixote did,whether he was cured of his madness or still suffered from it, and thenbegged leave to continue his journey; in short, they all separated andwent their ways, leaving to themselves the curate and the barber, DonQuixote, Sancho Panza, and the good Rocinante, who regarded everythingwith as great resignation as his master. The carter yoked his oxen andmade Don Quixote comfortable on a truss of hay, and at his usualdeliberate pace took the road the curate directed, and at the end of sixdays they reached Don Quixote's village, and entered it about the middleof the day, which it so happened was a Sunday, and the people were all inthe plaza, through which Don Quixote's cart passed. They all flocked tosee what was in the cart, and when they recognised their townsman theywere filled with amazement, and a boy ran off to bring the news to hishousekeeper and his niece that their master and uncle had come back alllean and yellow and stretched on a truss of hay on an ox-cart. It waspiteous to hear the cries the two good ladies raised, how they beat theirbreasts and poured out fresh maledictions on those accursed books ofchivalry; all which was renewed when they saw Don Quixote coming in atthe gate.At the news of Don Quixote's arrival Sancho Panza's wife came running,for she by this time knew that her husband had gone away with him as hissquire, and on seeing Sancho, the first thing she asked him was if theass was well. Sancho replied that he was, better than his master was."Thanks be to God," said she, "for being so good to me; but now tell me,my friend, what have you made by your squirings? What gown have youbrought me back? What shoes for your children?""I bring nothing of that sort, wife," said Sancho; "though I bring otherthings of more consequence and value.""I am very glad of that," returned his wife; "show me these things ofmore value and consequence, my friend; for I want to see them to cheer myheart that has been so sad and heavy all these ages that you have beenaway.""I will show them to you at home, wife," said Sancho; "be content for thepresent; for if it please God that we should again go on our travels insearch of adventures, you will soon see me a count, or governor of anisland, and that not one of those everyday ones, but the best that is tobe had.""Heaven grant it, husband," said she, "for indeed we have need of it. Buttell me, what's this about islands, for I don't understand it?""Honey is not for the mouth of the ass," returned Sancho; "all in goodtime thou shalt see, wife--nay, thou wilt be surprised to hear thyselfcalled 'your ladyship' by all thy vassals.""What are you talking about, Sancho, with your ladyships, islands, andvassals?" returned Teresa Panza--for so Sancho's wife was called, thoughthey were not relations, for in La Mancha it is customary for wives totake their husbands' surnames."Don't be in such a hurry to know all this, Teresa," said Sancho; "it isenough that I am telling you the truth, so shut your mouth. But I maytell you this much by the way, that there is nothing in the world moredelightful than to be a person of consideration, squire to aknight-errant, and a seeker of adventures. To be sure most of those onefinds do not end as pleasantly as one could wish, for out of a hundred,ninety-nine will turn out cross and contrary. I know it by experience,for out of some I came blanketed, and out of others belaboured. Still,for all that, it is a fine thing to be on the look-out for what mayhappen, crossing mountains, searching woods, climbing rocks, visitingcastles, putting up at inns, all at free quarters, and devil take themaravedi to pay."While this conversation passed between Sancho Panza and his wife, DonQuixote's housekeeper and niece took him in and undressed him and laidhim in his old bed. He eyed them askance, and could not make out where hewas. The curate charged his niece to be very careful to make her unclecomfortable and to keep a watch over him lest he should make his escapefrom them again, telling her what they had been obliged to do to bringhim home. On this the pair once more lifted up their voices and renewedtheir maledictions upon the books of chivalry, and implored heaven toplunge the authors of such lies and nonsense into the midst of thebottomless pit. They were, in short, kept in anxiety and dread lest theiruncle and master should give them the slip the moment he found himselfsomewhat better, and as they feared so it fell out.But the author of this history, though he has devoted research andindustry to the discovery of the deeds achieved by Don Quixote in histhird sally, has been unable to obtain any information respecting them,at any rate derived from authentic documents; tradition has merelypreserved in the memory of La Mancha the fact that Don Quixote, the thirdtime he sallied forth from his home, betook himself to Saragossa, wherehe was present at some famous jousts which came off in that city, andthat he had adventures there worthy of his valour and high intelligence.Of his end and death he could learn no particulars, nor would he haveascertained it or known of it, if good fortune had not produced an oldphysician for him who had in his possession a leaden box, which,according to his account, had been discovered among the crumblingfoundations of an ancient hermitage that was being rebuilt; in which boxwere found certain parchment manuscripts in Gothic character, but inCastilian verse, containing many of his achievements, and setting forththe beauty of Dulcinea, the form of Rocinante, the fidelity of SanchoPanza, and the burial of Don Quixote himself, together with sundryepitaphs and eulogies on his life and character; but all that could beread and deciphered were those which the trustworthy author of this newand unparalleled history here presents. And the said author asks of thosethat shall read it nothing in return for the vast toil which it has costhim in examining and searching the Manchegan archives in order to bringit to light, save that they give him the same credit that people of sensegive to the books of chivalry that pervade the world and are so popular;for with this he will consider himself amply paid and fully satisfied,and will be encouraged to seek out and produce other histories, if not astruthful, at least equal in invention and not less entertaining. Thefirst words written on the parchment found in the leaden box were these: THE ACADEMICIANS OF ARGAMASILLA, A VILLAGE OF LA MANCHA, ON THE LIFE AND DEATH OF DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA, HOC SCRIPSERUNT MONICONGO, ACADEMICIAN OF ARGAMASILLA, ON THE TOMB OF DON QUIXOTE