PART I - CHAPTER XLVIII.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　IN WHICH THE CANON PURSUES THE SUBJECT OF THE BOOKS OF CHIVALRY, WITHOTHER MATTERS WORTHY OF HIS WIT"It is as you say, senor canon," said the curate; "and for that reasonthose who have hitherto written books of the sort deserve all the morecensure for writing without paying any attention to good taste or therules of art, by which they might guide themselves and become as famousin prose as the two princes of Greek and Latin poetry are in verse.""I myself, at any rate," said the canon, "was once tempted to write abook of chivalry in which all the points I have mentioned were to beobserved; and if I must own the truth I have more than a hundred sheetswritten; and to try if it came up to my own opinion of it, I showed themto persons who were fond of this kind of reading, to learned andintelligent men as well as to ignorant people who cared for nothing butthe pleasure of listening to nonsense, and from all I obtained flatteringapproval; nevertheless I proceeded no farther with it, as well because itseemed to me an occupation inconsistent with my profession, as because Iperceived that the fools are more numerous than the wise; and, though itis better to be praised by the wise few than applauded by the foolishmany, I have no mind to submit myself to the stupid judgment of the sillypublic, to whom the reading of such books falls for the most part."But what most of all made me hold my hand and even abandon all idea offinishing it was an argument I put to myself taken from the plays thatare acted now-a-days, which was in this wise: if those that are now invogue, as well those that are pure invention as those founded on history,are, all or most of them, downright nonsense and things that have neitherhead nor tail, and yet the public listens to them with delight, andregards and cries them up as perfection when they are so far from it; andif the authors who write them, and the players who act them, say thatthis is what they must be, for the public wants this and will havenothing else; and that those that go by rule and work out a plotaccording to the laws of art will only find some half-dozen intelligentpeople to understand them, while all the rest remain blind to the meritof their composition; and that for themselves it is better to get breadfrom the many than praise from the few; then my book will fare the sameway, after I have burnt off my eyebrows in trying to observe theprinciples I have spoken of, and I shall be 'the tailor of the corner.'And though I have sometimes endeavoured to convince actors that they aremistaken in this notion they have adopted, and that they would attractmore people, and get more credit, by producing plays in accordance withthe rules of art, than by absurd ones, they are so thoroughly wedded totheir own opinion that no argument or evidence can wean them from it."I remember saying one day to one of these obstinate fellows, 'Tell me,do you not recollect that a few years ago, there were three tragediesacted in Spain, written by a famous poet of these kingdoms, which weresuch that they filled all who heard them with admiration, delight, andinterest, the ignorant as well as the wise, the masses as well as thehigher orders, and brought in more money to the performers, these threealone, than thirty of the best that have been since produced?'"'No doubt,' replied the actor in question, 'you mean the "Isabella," the"Phyllis," and the "Alexandra."'"'Those are the ones I mean,' said I; 'and see if they did not observethe principles of art, and if, by observing them, they failed to showtheir superiority and please all the world; so that the fault does notlie with the public that insists upon nonsense, but with those who don'tknow how to produce something else. "The Ingratitude Revenged" was notnonsense, nor was there any in "The Numantia," nor any to be found in"The Merchant Lover," nor yet in "The Friendly Fair Foe," nor in someothers that have been written by certain gifted poets, to their own fameand renown, and to the profit of those that brought them out;' somefurther remarks I added to these, with which, I think, I left him ratherdumbfoundered, but not so satisfied or convinced that I could disabusehim of his error.""You have touched upon a subject, senor canon," observed the curate here,"that has awakened an old enmity I have against the plays in vogue at thepresent day, quite as strong as that which I bear to the books ofchivalry; for while the drama, according to Tully, should be the mirrorof human life, the model of manners, and the image of the truth, thosewhich are presented now-a-days are mirrors of nonsense, models of folly,and images of lewdness. For what greater nonsense can there be inconnection with what we are now discussing than for an infant to appearin swaddling clothes in the first scene of the first act, and in thesecond a grown-up bearded man? Or what greater absurdity can there bethan putting before us an old man as a swashbuckler, a young man as apoltroon, a lackey using fine language, a page giving sage advice, a kingplying as a porter, a princess who is a kitchen-maid? And then what shallI say of their attention to the time in which the action they representmay or can take place, save that I have seen a play where the first actbegan in Europe, the second in Asia, the third finished in Africa, and nodoubt, had it been in four acts, the fourth would have ended in America,and so it would have been laid in all four quarters of the globe? And iftruth to life is the main thing the drama should keep in view, how is itpossible for any average understanding to be satisfied when the action issupposed to pass in the time of King Pepin or Charlemagne, and theprincipal personage in it they represent to be the Emperor Heraclius whoentered Jerusalem with the cross and won the Holy Sepulchre, like Godfreyof Bouillon, there being years innumerable between the one and the other?or, if the play is based on fiction and historical facts are introduced,or bits of what occurred to different people and at different times mixedup with it, all, not only without any semblance of probability, but withobvious errors that from every point of view are inexcusable? And theworst of it is, there are ignorant people who say that this isperfection, and that anything beyond this is affected refinement. Andthen if we turn to sacred dramas--what miracles they invent in them! Whatapocryphal, ill-devised incidents, attributing to one saint the miraclesof another! And even in secular plays they venture to introduce miracleswithout any reason or object except that they think some such miracle, ortransformation as they call it, will come in well to astonish stupidpeople and draw them to the play. All this tends to the prejudice of thetruth and the corruption of history, nay more, to the reproach of thewits of Spain; for foreigners who scrupulously observe the laws of thedrama look upon us as barbarous and ignorant, when they see the absurdityand nonsense of the plays we produce. Nor will it be a sufficient excuseto say that the chief object well-ordered governments have in view whenthey permit plays to be performed in public is to entertain the peoplewith some harmless amusement occasionally, and keep it from those evilhumours which idleness is apt to engender; and that, as this may beattained by any sort of play, good or bad, there is no need to lay downlaws, or bind those who write or act them to make them as they ought tobe made, since, as I say, the object sought for may be secured by anysort. To this I would reply that the same end would be, beyond allcomparison, better attained by means of good plays than by those that arenot so; for after listening to an artistic and properly constructed play,the hearer will come away enlivened by the jests, instructed by theserious parts, full of admiration at the incidents, his wits sharpened bythe arguments, warned by the tricks, all the wiser for the examples,inflamed against vice, and in love with virtue; for in all these ways agood play will stimulate the mind of the hearer be he ever so boorish ordull; and of all impossibilities the greatest is that a play endowed withall these qualities will not entertain, satisfy, and please much morethan one wanting in them, like the greater number of those which arecommonly acted now-a-days. Nor are the poets who write them to be blamedfor this; for some there are among them who are perfectly well aware oftheir faults, and know what they ought to do; but as plays have become asalable commodity, they say, and with truth, that the actors will not buythem unless they are after this fashion; and so the poet tries to adapthimself to the requirements of the actor who is to pay him for his work.And that this is the truth may be seen by the countless plays that a mostfertile wit of these kingdoms has written, with so much brilliancy, somuch grace and gaiety, such polished versification, such choice language,such profound reflections, and in a word, so rich in eloquence andelevation of style, that he has filled the world with his fame; and yet,in consequence of his desire to suit the taste of the actors, they havenot all, as some of them have, come as near perfection as they ought.Others write plays with such heedlessness that, after they have beenacted, the actors have to fly and abscond, afraid of being punished, asthey often have been, for having acted something offensive to some kingor other, or insulting to some noble family. All which evils, and manymore that I say nothing of, would be removed if there were someintelligent and sensible person at the capital to examine all playsbefore they were acted, not only those produced in the capital itself,but all that were intended to be acted in Spain; without whose approval,seal, and signature, no local magistracy should allow any play to beacted. In that case actors would take care to send their plays to thecapital, and could act them in safety, and those who write them would bemore careful and take more pains with their work, standing in awe ofhaving to submit it to the strict examination of one who understood thematter; and so good plays would be produced and the objects they aim athappily attained; as well the amusement of the people, as the credit ofthe wits of Spain, the interest and safety of the actors, and the savingof trouble in inflicting punishment on them. And if the same or someother person were authorised to examine the newly written books ofchivalry, no doubt some would appear with all the perfections you havedescribed, enriching our language with the gracious and precious treasureof eloquence, and driving the old books into obscurity before the lightof the new ones that would come out for the harmless entertainment, notmerely of the idle but of the very busiest; for the bow cannot be alwaysbent, nor can weak human nature exist without some lawful amusement."The canon and the curate had proceeded thus far with their conversation,when the barber, coming forward, joined them, and said to the curate,"This is the spot, senor licentiate, that I said was a good one for freshand plentiful pasture for the oxen, while we take our noontide rest.""And so it seems," returned the curate, and he told the canon what heproposed to do, on which he too made up his mind to halt with them,attracted by the aspect of the fair valley that lay before their eyes;and to enjoy it as well as the conversation of the curate, to whom he hadbegun to take a fancy, and also to learn more particulars about thedoings of Don Quixote, he desired some of his servants to go on to theinn, which was not far distant, and fetch from it what eatables theremight be for the whole party, as he meant to rest for the afternoon wherehe was; to which one of his servants replied that the sumpter mule, whichby this time ought to have reached the inn, carried provisions enough tomake it unnecessary to get anything from the inn except barley."In that case," said the canon, "take all the beasts there, and bring thesumpter mule back."While this was going on, Sancho, perceiving that he could speak to hismaster without having the curate and the barber, of whom he had hissuspicions, present all the time, approached the cage in which DonQuixote was placed, and said, "Senor, to ease my conscience I want totell you the state of the case as to your enchantment, and that is thatthese two here, with their faces covered, are the curate of our villageand the barber; and I suspect they have hit upon this plan of carryingyou off in this fashion, out of pure envy because your worship surpassesthem in doing famous deeds; and if this be the truth it follows that youare not enchanted, but hoodwinked and made a fool of. And to prove this Iwant to ask you one thing; and if you answer me as I believe you willanswer, you will be able to lay your finger on the trick, and you willsee that you are not enchanted but gone wrong in your wits.""Ask what thou wilt, Sancho my son," returned Don Quixote, "for I willsatisfy thee and answer all thou requirest. As to what thou sayest, thatthese who accompany us yonder are the curate and the barber, ourneighbours and acquaintances, it is very possible that they may seem tobe those same persons; but that they are so in reality and in fact,believe it not on any account; what thou art to believe and think isthat, if they look like them, as thou sayest, it must be that those whohave enchanted me have taken this shape and likeness; for it is easy forenchanters to take any form they please, and they may have taken those ofour friends in order to make thee think as thou dost, and lead thee intoa labyrinth of fancies from which thou wilt find no escape though thouhadst the cord of Theseus; and they may also have done it to make meuncertain in my mind, and unable to conjecture whence this evil comes tome; for if on the one hand thou dost tell me that the barber and curateof our village are here in company with us, and on the other I findmyself shut up in a cage, and know in my heart that no power on earththat was not supernatural would have been able to shut me in, whatwouldst thou have me say or think, but that my enchantment is of a sortthat transcends all I have ever read of in all the histories that dealwith knights-errant that have been enchanted? So thou mayest set thy mindat rest as to the idea that they are what thou sayest, for they are asmuch so as I am a Turk. But touching thy desire to ask me something, sayon, and I will answer thee, though thou shouldst ask questions from thistill to-morrow morning.""May Our Lady be good to me!" said Sancho, lifting up his voice; "and isit possible that your worship is so thick of skull and so short of brainsthat you cannot see that what I say is the simple truth, and that malicehas more to do with your imprisonment and misfortune than enchantment?But as it is so, I will prove plainly to you that you are not enchanted.Now tell me, so may God deliver you from this affliction, and so may youfind yourself when you least expect it in the arms of my lady Dulcinea-""Leave off conjuring me," said Don Quixote, "and ask what thou wouldstknow; I have already told thee I will answer with all possibleprecision.""That is what I want," said Sancho; "and what I would know, and have youtell me, without adding or leaving out anything, but telling the wholetruth as one expects it to be told, and as it is told, by all who professarms, as your worship professes them, under the title of knights-errant-""I tell thee I will not lie in any particular," said Don Quixote; "finishthy question; for in truth thou weariest me with all these asseverations,requirements, and precautions, Sancho.""Well, I rely on the goodness and truth of my master," said Sancho; "andso, because it bears upon what we are talking about, I would ask,speaking with all reverence, whether since your worship has been shut upand, as you think, enchanted in this cage, you have felt any desire orinclination to go anywhere, as the saying is?""I do not understand 'going anywhere,'" said Don Quixote; "explainthyself more clearly, Sancho, if thou wouldst have me give an answer tothe point.""Is it possible," said Sancho, "that your worship does not understand'going anywhere'? Why, the schoolboys know that from the time they werebabes. Well then, you must know I mean have you had any desire to do whatcannot be avoided?""Ah! now I understand thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "yes, often, andeven this minute; get me out of this strait, or all will not go right."