PART II - CHAPTER LXVII.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　OF THE RESOLUTION DON QUIXOTE FORMED TO TURN SHEPHERD AND TAKE TO A LIFEIN THE FIELDS WHILE THE YEAR FOR WHICH HE HAD GIVEN HIS WORD WAS RUNNINGITS COURSE; WITH OTHER EVENTS TRULY DELECTABLE AND HAPPYIf a multitude of reflections used to harass Don Quixote before he hadbeen overthrown, a great many more harassed him since his fall. He wasunder the shade of a tree, as has been said, and there, like flies onhoney, thoughts came crowding upon him and stinging him. Some of themturned upon the disenchantment of Dulcinea, others upon the life he wasabout to lead in his enforced retirement. Sancho came up and spoke inhigh praise of the generous disposition of the lacquey Tosilos."Is it possible, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that thou dost still thinkthat he yonder is a real lacquey? Apparently it has escaped thy memorythat thou hast seen Dulcinea turned and transformed into a peasant wench,and the Knight of the Mirrors into the bachelor Carrasco; all the work ofthe enchanters that persecute me. But tell me now, didst thou ask thisTosilos, as thou callest him, what has become of Altisidora, did she weepover my absence, or has she already consigned to oblivion the lovethoughts that used to afflict her when I was present?""The thoughts that I had," said Sancho, "were not such as to leave timefor asking fool's questions. Body o' me, senor! is your worship in acondition now to inquire into other people's thoughts, above all lovethoughts?""Look ye, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "there is a great difference betweenwhat is done out of love and what is done out of gratitude. A knight mayvery possibly be proof against love; but it is impossible, strictlyspeaking, for him to be ungrateful. Altisidora, to all appearance, lovedme truly; she gave me the three kerchiefs thou knowest of; she wept at mydeparture, she cursed me, she abused me, casting shame to the winds shebewailed herself in public; all signs that she adored me; for the wrathof lovers always ends in curses. I had no hopes to give her, nortreasures to offer her, for mine are given to Dulcinea, and the treasuresof knights-errant are like those of the fairies,' illusory and deceptive;all I can give her is the place in my memory I keep for her, withoutprejudice, however, to that which I hold devoted to Dulcinea, whom thouart wronging by thy remissness in whipping thyself and scourging thatflesh--would that I saw it eaten by wolves--which would rather keepitself for the worms than for the relief of that poor lady.""Senor," replied Sancho, "if the truth is to be told, I cannot persuademyself that the whipping of my backside has anything to do with thedisenchantment of the enchanted; it is like saying, 'If your head achesrub ointment on your knees;' at any rate I'll make bold to swear that inall the histories dealing with knight-errantry that your worship has readyou have never come across anybody disenchanted by whipping; but whetheror no I'll whip myself when I have a fancy for it, and the opportunityserves for scourging myself comfortably.""God grant it," said Don Quixote; "and heaven give thee grace to take itto heart and own the obligation thou art under to help my lady, who isthine also, inasmuch as thou art mine."As they pursued their journey talking in this way they came to the verysame spot where they had been trampled on by the bulls. Don Quixoterecognised it, and said he to Sancho, "This is the meadow where we cameupon those gay shepherdesses and gallant shepherds who were trying torevive and imitate the pastoral Arcadia there, an idea as novel as it washappy, in emulation whereof, if so be thou dost approve of it, Sancho, Iwould have ourselves turn shepherds, at any rate for the time I have tolive in retirement. I will buy some ewes and everything else requisitefor the pastoral calling; and, I under the name of the shepherd Quixotizeand thou as the shepherd Panzino, we will roam the woods and groves andmeadows singing songs here, lamenting in elegies there, drinking of thecrystal waters of the springs or limpid brooks or flowing rivers. Theoaks will yield us their sweet fruit with bountiful hand, the trunks ofthe hard cork trees a seat, the willows shade, the roses perfume, thewidespread meadows carpets tinted with a thousand dyes; the clear pureair will give us breath, the moon and stars lighten the darkness of thenight for us, song shall be our delight, lamenting our joy, Apollo willsupply us with verses, and love with conceits whereby we shall makeourselves famed for ever, not only in this but in ages to come.""Egad," said Sancho, "but that sort of life squares, nay corners, with mynotions; and what is more the bachelor Samson Carrasco and MasterNicholas the barber won't have well seen it before they'll want to followit and turn shepherds along with us; and God grant it may not come intothe curate's head to join the sheepfold too, he's so jovial and fond ofenjoying himself.""Thou art in the right of it, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "and thebachelor Samson Carrasco, if he enters the pastoral fraternity, as nodoubt he will, may call himself the shepherd Samsonino, or perhaps theshepherd Carrascon; Nicholas the barber may call himself Niculoso, as oldBoscan formerly was called Nemoroso; as for the curate I don't know whatname we can fit to him unless it be something derived from his title, andwe call him the shepherd Curiambro. For the shepherdesses whose lovers weshall be, we can pick names as we would pears; and as my lady's name doesjust as well for a shepherdess's as for a princess's, I need not troublemyself to look for one that will suit her better; to thine, Sancho, thoucanst give what name thou wilt.""I don't mean to give her any but Teresona," said Sancho, "which will gowell with her stoutness and with her own right name, as she is calledTeresa; and then when I sing her praises in my verses I'll show howchaste my passion is, for I'm not going to look 'for better bread thanever came from wheat' in other men's houses. It won't do for the curateto have a shepherdess, for the sake of good example; and if the bachelorchooses to have one, that is his look-out.""God bless me, Sancho my friend!" said Don Quixote, "what a life we shalllead! What hautboys and Zamora bagpipes we shall hear, what tabors,timbrels, and rebecks! And then if among all these different sorts ofmusic that of the albogues is heard, almost all the pastoral instrumentswill be there.""What are albogues?" asked Sancho, "for I never in my life heard tell ofthem or saw them.""Albogues," said Don Quixote, "are brass plates like candlesticks thatstruck against one another on the hollow side make a noise which, if notvery pleasing or harmonious, is not disagreeable and accords very wellwith the rude notes of the bagpipe and tabor. The word albogue isMorisco, as are all those in our Spanish tongue that begin with al; forexample, almohaza, almorzar, alhombra, alguacil, alhucema, almacen,alcancia, and others of the same sort, of which there are not many more;our language has only three that are Morisco and end in i, which areborcegui, zaquizami, and maravedi. Alheli and alfaqui are seen to beArabic, as well by the al at the beginning as by the they end with. Imention this incidentally, the chance allusion to albogues havingreminded me of it; and it will be of great assistance to us in theperfect practice of this calling that I am something of a poet, as thouknowest, and that besides the bachelor Samson Carrasco is an accomplishedone. Of the curate I say nothing; but I will wager he has some spice ofthe poet in him, and no doubt Master Nicholas too, for all barbers, ormost of them, are guitar players and stringers of verses. I will bewailmy separation; thou shalt glorify thyself as a constant lover; theshepherd Carrascon will figure as a rejected one, and the curateCuriambro as whatever may please him best; and so all will go as gaily asheart could wish."To this Sancho made answer, "I am so unlucky, senor, that I'm afraid theday will never come when I'll see myself at such a calling. O what neatspoons I'll make when I'm a shepherd! What messes, creams, garlands,pastoral odds and ends! And if they don't get me a name for wisdom,they'll not fail to get me one for ingenuity. My daughter Sanchica willbring us our dinner to the pasture. But stay-she's good-looking, andshepherds there are with more mischief than simplicity in them; I wouldnot have her 'come for wool and go back shorn;' love-making and lawlessdesires are just as common in the fields as in the cities, and inshepherds' shanties as in royal palaces; 'do away with the cause, you doaway with the sin;' 'if eyes don't see hearts don't break' and 'better aclear escape than good men's prayers.'""A truce to thy proverbs, Sancho," exclaimed Don Quixote; "any one ofthose thou hast uttered would suffice to explain thy meaning; many a timehave I recommended thee not to be so lavish with proverbs and to exercisesome moderation in delivering them; but it seems to me it is only'preaching in the desert;' 'my mother beats me and I go on with mytricks.""It seems to me," said Sancho, "that your worship is like the commonsaying, 'Said the frying-pan to the kettle, Get away, blackbreech.' Youchide me for uttering proverbs, and you string them in couples yourself.""Observe, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "I bring in proverbs to thepurpose, and when I quote them they fit like a ring to the finger; thoubringest them in by the head and shoulders, in such a way that thou dostdrag them in, rather than introduce them; if I am not mistaken, I havetold thee already that proverbs are short maxims drawn from theexperience and observation of our wise men of old; but the proverb thatis not to the purpose is a piece of nonsense and not a maxim. But enoughof this; as nightfall is drawing on let us retire some little distancefrom the high road to pass the night; what is in store for us to-morrowGod knoweth."They turned aside, and supped late and poorly, very much against Sancho'swill, who turned over in his mind the hardships attendant uponknight-errantry in woods and forests, even though at times plentypresented itself in castles and houses, as at Don Diego de Miranda's, atthe wedding of Camacho the Rich, and at Don Antonio Moreno's; hereflected, however, that it could not be always day, nor always night;and so that night he passed in sleeping, and his master in waking.