PART I - CHAPTER V.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　IN WHICH THE NARRATIVE OF OUR KNIGHT'S MISHAP IS CONTINUEDFinding, then, that, in fact he could not move, he thought himself ofhaving recourse to his usual remedy, which was to think of some passagein his books, and his craze brought to his mind that about Baldwin andthe Marquis of Mantua, when Carloto left him wounded on the mountainside, a story known by heart by the children, not forgotten by the youngmen, and lauded and even believed by the old folk; and for all that not awhit truer than the miracles of Mahomet. This seemed to him to fitexactly the case in which he found himself, so, making a show of severesuffering, he began to roll on the ground and with feeble breath repeatthe very words which the wounded knight of the wood is said to haveuttered: Where art thou, lady mine, that thou My sorrow dost not rue? Thou canst not know it, lady mine, Or else thou art untrue. And so he went on with the ballad as far as the lines: O noble Marquis of Mantua, My Uncle and liege lord! As chance would have it, when he had got to this line there happened tocome by a peasant from his own village, a neighbour of his, who had beenwith a load of wheat to the mill, and he, seeing the man stretched there,came up to him and asked him who he was and what was the matter with himthat he complained so dolefully.Don Quixote was firmly persuaded that this was the Marquis of Mantua, hisuncle, so the only answer he made was to go on with his ballad, in whichhe told the tale of his misfortune, and of the loves of the Emperor's sonand his wife all exactly as the ballad sings it.The peasant stood amazed at hearing such nonsense, and relieving him ofthe visor, already battered to pieces by blows, he wiped his face, whichwas covered with dust, and as soon as he had done so he recognised himand said, "Senor Quixada" (for so he appears to have been called when hewas in his senses and had not yet changed from a quiet country gentlemaninto a knight-errant), "who has brought your worship to this pass?" Butto all questions the other only went on with his ballad.Seeing this, the good man removed as well as he could his breastplate andbackpiece to see if he had any wound, but he could perceive no blood norany mark whatever. He then contrived to raise him from the ground, andwith no little difficulty hoisted him upon his ass, which seemed to himto be the easiest mount for him; and collecting the arms, even to thesplinters of the lance, he tied them on Rocinante, and leading him by thebridle and the ass by the halter he took the road for the village, verysad to hear what absurd stuff Don Quixote was talking.Nor was Don Quixote less so, for what with blows and bruises he could notsit upright on the ass, and from time to time he sent up sighs to heaven,so that once more he drove the peasant to ask what ailed him. And itcould have been only the devil himself that put into his head tales tomatch his own adventures, for now, forgetting Baldwin, he bethoughthimself of the Moor Abindarraez, when the Alcaide of Antequera, Rodrigode Narvaez, took him prisoner and carried him away to his castle; so thatwhen the peasant again asked him how he was and what ailed him, he gavehim for reply the same words and phrases that the captive Abindarraezgave to Rodrigo de Narvaez, just as he had read the story in the "Diana"of Jorge de Montemayor where it is written, applying it to his own caseso aptly that the peasant went along cursing his fate that he had tolisten to such a lot of nonsense; from which, however, he came to theconclusion that his neighbour was mad, and so made all haste to reach thevillage to escape the wearisomeness of this harangue of Don Quixote's;who, at the end of it, said, "Senor Don Rodrigo de Narvaez, your worshipmust know that this fair Xarifa I have mentioned is now the lovelyDulcinea del Toboso, for whom I have done, am doing, and will do the mostfamous deeds of chivalry that in this world have been seen, are to beseen, or ever shall be seen."To this the peasant answered, "Senor--sinner that I am!--cannot yourworship see that I am not Don Rodrigo de Narvaez nor the Marquis ofMantua, but Pedro Alonso your neighbour, and that your worship is neitherBaldwin nor Abindarraez, but the worthy gentleman Senor Quixada?""I know who I am," replied Don Quixote, "and I know that I may be notonly those I have named, but all the Twelve Peers of France and even allthe Nine Worthies, since my achievements surpass all that they have doneall together and each of them on his own account."With this talk and more of the same kind they reached the village just asnight was beginning to fall, but the peasant waited until it was a littlelater that the belaboured gentleman might not be seen riding in such amiserable trim. When it was what seemed to him the proper time he enteredthe village and went to Don Quixote's house, which he found all inconfusion, and there were the curate and the village barber, who weregreat friends of Don Quixote, and his housekeeper was saying to them in aloud voice, "What does your worship think can have befallen my master,Senor Licentiate Pero Perez?" for so the curate was called; "it is threedays now since anything has been seen of him, or the hack, or thebuckler, lance, or armour. Miserable me! I am certain of it, and it is astrue as that I was born to die, that these accursed books of chivalry hehas, and has got into the way of reading so constantly, have upset hisreason; for now I remember having often heard him saying to himself thathe would turn knight-errant and go all over the world in quest ofadventures. To the devil and Barabbas with such books, that have broughtto ruin in this way the finest understanding there was in all La Mancha!"The niece said the same, and, more: "You must know, Master Nicholas"--forthat was the name of the barber--"it was often my uncle's way to stay twodays and nights together poring over these unholy books of misventures,after which he would fling the book away and snatch up his sword and fallto slashing the walls; and when he was tired out he would say he hadkilled four giants like four towers; and the sweat that flowed from himwhen he was weary he said was the blood of the wounds he had received inbattle; and then he would drink a great jug of cold water and become calmand quiet, saying that this water was a most precious potion which thesage Esquife, a great magician and friend of his, had brought him. But Itake all the blame upon myself for never having told your worships of myuncle's vagaries, that you might put a stop to them before things hadcome to this pass, and burn all these accursed books--for he has a greatnumber--that richly deserve to be burned like heretics.""So say I too," said the curate, "and by my faith to-morrow shall notpass without public judgment upon them, and may they be condemned to theflames lest they lead those that read to behave as my good friend seemsto have behaved."All this the peasant heard, and from it he understood at last what wasthe matter with his neighbour, so he began calling aloud, "Open, yourworships, to Senor Baldwin and to Senor the Marquis of Mantua, who comesbadly wounded, and to Senor Abindarraez, the Moor, whom the valiantRodrigo de Narvaez, the Alcaide of Antequera, brings captive."At these words they all hurried out, and when they recognised theirfriend, master, and uncle, who had not yet dismounted from the assbecause he could not, they ran to embrace him."Hold!" said he, "for I am badly wounded through my horse's fault; carryme to bed, and if possible send for the wise Urganda to cure and see tomy wounds.""See there! plague on it!" cried the housekeeper at this: "did not myheart tell the truth as to which foot my master went lame of? To bed withyour worship at once, and we will contrive to cure you here withoutfetching that Hurgada. A curse I say once more, and a hundred times more,on those books of chivalry that have brought your worship to such apass."They carried him to bed at once, and after searching for his wounds couldfind none, but he said they were all bruises from having had a severefall with his horse Rocinante when in combat with ten giants, the biggestand the boldest to be found on earth."So, so!" said the curate, "are there giants in the dance? By the sign ofthe Cross I will burn them to-morrow before the day over."They put a host of questions to Don Quixote, but his only answer to allwas--give him something to eat, and leave him to sleep, for that was whathe needed most. They did so, and the curate questioned the peasant atgreat length as to how he had found Don Quixote. He told him, and thenonsense he had talked when found and on the way home, all which made thelicentiate the more eager to do what he did the next day, which was tosummon his friend the barber, Master Nicholas, and go with him to DonQuixote's house.