PART II - CHAPTER XVIII.

by Miguel de Cervantes

　　OF WHAT HAPPENED DON QUIXOTE IN THE CASTLE OR HOUSE OF THE KNIGHT OF THEGREEN GABAN, TOGETHER WITH OTHER MATTERS OUT OF THE COMMONDon Quixote found Don Diego de Miranda's house built in village style,with his arms in rough stone over the street door; in the patio was thestore-room, and at the entrance the cellar, with plenty of wine-jarsstanding round, which, coming from El Toboso, brought back to his memoryhis enchanted and transformed Dulcinea; and with a sigh, and not thinkingof what he was saying, or in whose presence he was, he exclaimed--"O ye sweet treasures, to my sorrow found!

　　Once sweet and welcome when 'twas heaven's good-will."O ye Tobosan jars, how ye bring back to my memory the

　　sweet object of my bitter regrets!"The student poet, Don Diego's son, who had come out with his mother toreceive him, heard this exclamation, and both mother and son were filledwith amazement at the extraordinary figure he presented; he, however,dismounting from Rocinante, advanced with great politeness to askpermission to kiss the lady's hand, while Don Diego said, "Senora, prayreceive with your wonted kindness Senor Don Quixote of La Mancha, whomyou see before you, a knight-errant, and the bravest and wisest in theworld."The lady, whose name was Dona Christina, received him with every sign ofgood-will and great courtesy, and Don Quixote placed himself at herservice with an abundance of well-chosen and polished phrases. Almost thesame civilities were exchanged between him and the student, who listeningto Don Quixote, took him to be a sensible, clear-headed person.Here the author describes minutely everything belonging to Don Diego'smansion, putting before us in his picture the whole contents of a richgentleman-farmer's house; but the translator of the history thought itbest to pass over these and other details of the same sort in silence, asthey are not in harmony with the main purpose of the story, the strongpoint of which is truth rather than dull digressions.They led Don Quixote into a room, and Sancho removed his armour, leavinghim in loose Walloon breeches and chamois-leather doublet, all stainedwith the rust of his armour; his collar was a falling one of scholasticcut, without starch or lace, his buskins buff-coloured, and his shoespolished. He wore his good sword, which hung in a baldric of sea-wolf'sskin, for he had suffered for many years, they say, from an ailment ofthe kidneys; and over all he threw a long cloak of good grey cloth. Butfirst of all, with five or six buckets of water (for as regard the numberof buckets there is some dispute), he washed his head and face, and stillthe water remained whey-coloured, thanks to Sancho's greediness andpurchase of those unlucky curds that turned his master so white. Thusarrayed, and with an easy, sprightly, and gallant air, Don Quixote passedout into another room, where the student was waiting to entertain himwhile the table was being laid; for on the arrival of so distinguished aguest, Dona Christina was anxious to show that she knew how and was ableto give a becoming reception to those who came to her house.While Don Quixote was taking off his armour, Don Lorenzo (for so DonDiego's son was called) took the opportunity to say to his father, "Whatare we to make of this gentleman you have brought home to us, sir? Forhis name, his appearance, and your describing him as a knight-errant havecompletely puzzled my mother and me.""I don't know what to say, my son," replied. Don Diego; "all I can tellthee is that I have seen him act the acts of the greatest madman in theworld, and heard him make observations so sensible that they efface andundo all he does; do thou talk to him and feel the pulse of his wits, andas thou art shrewd, form the most reasonable conclusion thou canst as tohis wisdom or folly; though, to tell the truth, I am more inclined totake him to be mad than sane."With this Don Lorenzo went away to entertain Don Quixote as has beensaid, and in the course of the conversation that passed between them DonQuixote said to Don Lorenzo, "Your father, Senor Don Diego de Miranda,has told me of the rare abilities and subtle intellect you possess, and,above all, that you are a great poet.""A poet, it may be," replied Don Lorenzo, "but a great one, by no means.It is true that I am somewhat given to poetry and to reading good poets,but not so much so as to justify the title of 'great' which my fathergives me.""I do not dislike that modesty," said Don Quixote; "for there is no poetwho is not conceited and does not think he is the best poet in theworld.""There is no rule without an exception," said Don Lorenzo; "there may besome who are poets and yet do not think they are.""Very few," said Don Quixote; "but tell me, what verses are those whichyou have now in hand, and which your father tells me keep you somewhatrestless and absorbed? If it be some gloss, I know something aboutglosses, and I should like to hear them; and if they are for a poeticaltournament, contrive to carry off the second prize; for the first alwaysgoes by favour or personal standing, the second by simple justice; and sothe third comes to be the second, and the first, reckoning in this way,will be third, in the same way as licentiate degrees are conferred at theuniversities; but, for all that, the title of first is a greatdistinction.""So far," said Don Lorenzo to himself, "I should not take you to be amadman; but let us go on." So he said to him, "Your worship hasapparently attended the schools; what sciences have you studied?""That of knight-errantry," said Don Quixote, "which is as good as that ofpoetry, and even a finger or two above it.""I do not know what science that is," said Don Lorenzo, "and until now Ihave never heard of it.""It is a science," said Don Quixote, "that comprehends in itself all ormost of the sciences in the world, for he who professes it must be ajurist, and must know the rules of justice, distributive and equitable,so as to give to each one what belongs to him and is due to him. He mustbe a theologian, so as to be able to give a clear and distinctive reasonfor the Christian faith he professes, wherever it may be asked of him. Hemust be a physician, and above all a herbalist, so as in wastes andsolitudes to know the herbs that have the property of healing wounds, fora knight-errant must not go looking for some one to cure him at everystep. He must be an astronomer, so as to know by the stars how many hoursof the night have passed, and what clime and quarter of the world he isin. He must know mathematics, for at every turn some occasion for themwill present itself to him; and, putting it aside that he must be adornedwith all the virtues, cardinal and theological, to come down to minorparticulars, he must, I say, be able to swim as well as Nicholas orNicolao the Fish could, as the story goes; he must know how to shoe ahorse, and repair his saddle and bridle; and, to return to highermatters, he must be faithful to God and to his lady; he must be pure inthought, decorous in words, generous in works, valiant in deeds, patientin suffering, compassionate towards the needy, and, lastly, an upholderof the truth though its defence should cost him his life. Of all thesequalities, great and small, is a true knight-errant made up; judge then,Senor Don Lorenzo, whether it be a contemptible science which the knightwho studies and professes it has to learn, and whether it may not comparewith the very loftiest that are taught in the schools.""If that be so," replied Don Lorenzo, "this science, I protest, surpassesall.""How, if that be so?" said Don Quixote."What I mean to say," said Don Lorenzo, "is, that I doubt whether thereare now, or ever were, any knights-errant, and adorned with suchvirtues.""Many a time," replied Don Quixote, "have I said what I now say oncemore, that the majority of the world are of opinion that there never wereany knights-errant in it; and as it is my opinion that, unless heaven bysome miracle brings home to them the truth that there were and are, allthe pains one takes will be in vain (as experience has often proved tome), I will not now stop to disabuse you of the error you share with themultitude. All I shall do is to pray to heaven to deliver you from it,and show you how beneficial and necessary knights-errant were in days ofyore, and how useful they would be in these days were they but in vogue;but now, for the sins of the people, sloth and indolence, gluttony andluxury are triumphant.""Our guest has broken out on our hands," said Don Lorenzo to himself atthis point; "but, for all that, he is a glorious madman, and I should bea dull blockhead to doubt it."Here, being summoned to dinner, they brought their colloquy to a close.Don Diego asked his son what he had been able to make out as to the witsof their guest. To which he replied, "All the doctors and clever scribesin the world will not make sense of the scrawl of his madness; he is amadman full of streaks, full of lucid intervals."They went in to dinner, and the repast was such as Don Diego said on theroad he was in the habit of giving to his guests, neat, plentiful, andtasty; but what pleased Don Quixote most was the marvellous silence thatreigned throughout the house, for it was like a Carthusian monastery.When the cloth had been removed, grace said and their hands washed, DonQuixote earnestly pressed Don Lorenzo to repeat to him his verses for thepoetical tournament, to which he replied, "Not to be like those poetswho, when they are asked to recite their verses, refuse, and when theyare not asked for them vomit them up, I will repeat my gloss, for which Ido not expect any prize, having composed it merely as an exercise ofingenuity.""A discerning friend of mine," said Don Quixote, "was of opinion that noone ought to waste labour in glossing verses; and the reason he gave wasthat the gloss can never come up to the text, and that often or mostfrequently it wanders away from the meaning and purpose aimed at in theglossed lines; and besides, that the laws of the gloss were too strict,as they did not allow interrogations, nor 'said he,' nor 'I say,' norturning verbs into nouns, or altering the construction, not to speak ofother restrictions and limitations that fetter gloss-writers, as you nodoubt know.""Verily, Senor Don Quixote," said Don Lorenzo, "I wish I could catch yourworship tripping at a stretch, but I cannot, for you slip through myfingers like an eel.""I don't understand what you say, or mean by slipping," said Don Quixote."I will explain myself another time," said Don Lorenzo; "for the presentpray attend to the glossed verses and the gloss, which run thus: Could 'was' become an 'is' for me, Then would I ask no more than this; Or could, for me, the time that is Become the time that is to be!-- GLOSS Dame Fortune once upon a day To me was bountiful and kind; But all things change; she changed her mind, And what she gave she took away. O Fortune, long I've sued to thee; The gifts thou gavest me restore, For, trust me, I would ask no more, Could 'was' become an 'is' for me. No other prize I seek to gain, No triumph, glory, or success, Only the long-lost happiness, The memory whereof is pain. One taste, methinks, of bygone bliss The heart-consuming fire might stay; And, so it come without delay, Then would I ask no more than this. I ask what cannot be, alas! That time should ever be, and then Come back to us, and be again, No power on earth can bring to pass; For fleet of foot is he, I wis, And idly, therefore, do we pray That what for aye hath left us may Become for us the time that is. Perplexed, uncertain, to remain 'Twixt hope and fear, is death, not life; 'Twere better, sure, to end the strife, And dying, seek release from pain. And yet, thought were the best for me. Anon the thought aside I fling, And to the present fondly cling, And dread the time that is to be." When Don Lorenzo had finished reciting his gloss, Don Quixote stood up,and in a loud voice, almost a shout, exclaimed as he grasped DonLorenzo's right hand in his, "By the highest heavens, noble youth, butyou are the best poet on earth, and deserve to be crowned with laurel,not by Cyprus or by Gaeta--as a certain poet, God forgive him, said--butby the Academies of Athens, if they still flourished, and by those thatflourish now, Paris, Bologna, Salamanca. Heaven grant that the judges whorob you of the first prize--that Phoebus may pierce them with his arrows,and the Muses never cross the thresholds of their doors. Repeat me someof your long-measure verses, senor, if you will be so good, for I wantthoroughly to feel the pulse of your rare genius."Is there any need to say that Don Lorenzo enjoyed hearing himself praisedby Don Quixote, albeit he looked upon him as a madman? power of flattery,how far-reaching art thou, and how wide are the bounds of thy pleasantjurisdiction! Don Lorenzo gave a proof of it, for he complied with DonQuixote's request and entreaty, and repeated to him this sonnet on thefable or story of Pyramus and Thisbe.SONNET The lovely maid, she pierces now the wall; Heart-pierced by her young Pyramus doth lie; And Love spreads wing from Cyprus isle to fly, A chink to view so wondrous great and small. There silence speaketh, for no voice at all Can pass so strait a strait; but love will ply Where to all other power 'twere vain to try; For love will find a way whate'er befall. Impatient of delay, with reckless pace The rash maid wins the fatal spot where she Sinks not in lover's arms but death's embrace. So runs the strange tale, how the lovers twain One sword, one sepulchre, one memory, Slays, and entombs, and brings to life again. "Blessed be God," said Don Quixote when he had heard Don Lorenzo'ssonnet, "that among the hosts there are of irritable poets I have foundone consummate one, which, senor, the art of this sonnet proves to methat you are!"For four days was Don Quixote most sumptuously entertained in Don Diego'shouse, at the end of which time he asked his permission to depart,telling him he thanked him for the kindness and hospitality he hadreceived in his house, but that, as it did not become knights-errant togive themselves up for long to idleness and luxury, he was anxious tofulfill the duties of his calling in seeking adventures, of which he wasinformed there was an abundance in that neighbourhood, where he hoped toemploy his time until the day came round for the jousts at Saragossa, forthat was his proper destination; and that, first of all, he meant toenter the cave of Montesinos, of which so many marvellous things werereported all through the country, and at the same time to investigate andexplore the origin and true source of the seven lakes commonly called thelakes of Ruidera.Don Diego and his son commended his laudable resolution, and bade himfurnish himself with all he wanted from their house and belongings, asthey would most gladly be of service to him; which, indeed, his personalworth and his honourable profession made incumbent upon them.The day of his departure came at length, as welcome to Don Quixote as itwas sad and sorrowful to Sancho Panza, who was very well satisfied withthe abundance of Don Diego's house, and objected to return to thestarvation of the woods and wilds and the short-commons of hisill-stocked alforjas; these, however, he filled and packed with what heconsidered needful. On taking leave, Don Quixote said to Don Lorenzo, "Iknow not whether I have told you already, but if I have I tell you oncemore, that if you wish to spare yourself fatigue and toil in reaching theinaccessible summit of the temple of fame, you have nothing to do but toturn aside out of the somewhat narrow path of poetry and take the stillnarrower one of knight-errantry, wide enough, however, to make you anemperor in the twinkling of an eye."In this speech Don Quixote wound up the evidence of his madness, butstill better in what he added when he said, "God knows, I would gladlytake Don Lorenzo with me to teach him how to spare the humble, andtrample the proud under foot, virtues that are part and parcel of theprofession I belong to; but since his tender age does not allow of it,nor his praiseworthy pursuits permit it, I will simply content myselfwith impressing it upon your worship that you will become famous as apoet if you are guided by the opinion of others rather than by your own;because no fathers or mothers ever think their own children ill-favoured,and this sort of deception prevails still more strongly in the case ofthe children of the brain."Both father and son were amazed afresh at the strange medley Don Quixotetalked, at one moment sense, at another nonsense, and at the pertinacityand persistence he displayed in going through thick and thin in quest ofhis unlucky adventures, which he made the end and aim of his desires.There was a renewal of offers of service and civilities, and then, withthe gracious permission of the lady of the castle, they took theirdeparture, Don Quixote on Rocinante, and Sancho on Dapple.