Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
CHAPTER L.
2647 words | Chapter 159
OF THE SHREWD CONTROVERSY WHICH DON QUIXOTE AND THE CANON HELD,
TOGETHER WITH OTHER INCIDENTS
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“A good joke, that!” returned Don Quixote. “Books that have been
printed with the king’s licence, and with the approbation of those to
whom they have been submitted, and read with universal delight, and
extolled by great and small, rich and poor, learned and ignorant,
gentle and simple, in a word by people of every sort, of whatever rank
or condition they may be—that these should be lies! And above all when
they carry such an appearance of truth with them; for they tell us the
father, mother, country, kindred, age, place, and the achievements,
step by step, and day by day, performed by such a knight or knights!
Hush, sir; utter not such blasphemy; trust me I am advising you now to
act as a sensible man should; only read them, and you will see the
pleasure you will derive from them. For, come, tell me, can there be
anything more delightful than to see, as it were, here now displayed
before us a vast lake of bubbling pitch with a host of snakes and
serpents and lizards, and ferocious and terrible creatures of all sorts
swimming about in it, while from the middle of the lake there comes a
plaintive voice saying: ‘Knight, whosoever thou art who beholdest this
dread lake, if thou wouldst win the prize that lies hidden beneath
these dusky waves, prove the valour of thy stout heart and cast thyself
into the midst of its dark burning waters, else thou shalt not be
worthy to see the mighty wonders contained in the seven castles of the
seven Fays that lie beneath this black expanse;’ and then the knight,
almost ere the awful voice has ceased, without stopping to consider,
without pausing to reflect upon the danger to which he is exposing
himself, without even relieving himself of the weight of his massive
armour, commending himself to God and to his lady, plunges into the
midst of the boiling lake, and when he little looks for it, or knows
what his fate is to be, he finds himself among flowery meadows, with
which the Elysian fields are not to be compared.
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“The sky seems more transparent there, and the sun shines with a
strange brilliancy, and a delightful grove of green leafy trees
presents itself to the eyes and charms the sight with its verdure,
while the ear is soothed by the sweet untutored melody of the countless
birds of gay plumage that flit to and fro among the interlacing
branches. Here he sees a brook whose limpid waters, like liquid
crystal, ripple over fine sands and white pebbles that look like sifted
gold and purest pearls. There he perceives a cunningly wrought fountain
of many-coloured jasper and polished marble; here another of rustic
fashion where the little mussel-shells and the spiral white and yellow
mansions of the snail disposed in studious disorder, mingled with
fragments of glittering crystal and mock emeralds, make up a work of
varied aspect, where art, imitating nature, seems to have outdone it.
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“Suddenly there is presented to his sight a strong castle or gorgeous
palace with walls of massy gold, turrets of diamond and gates of
jacinth; in short, so marvellous is its structure that though the
materials of which it is built are nothing less than diamonds,
carbuncles, rubies, pearls, gold, and emeralds, the workmanship is
still more rare. And after having seen all this, what can be more
charming than to see how a bevy of damsels comes forth from the gate of
the castle in gay and gorgeous attire, such that, were I to set myself
now to depict it as the histories describe it to us, I should never
have done; and then how she who seems to be the first among them all
takes the bold knight who plunged into the boiling lake by the hand,
and without addressing a word to him leads him into the rich palace or
castle, and strips him as naked as when his mother bore him, and bathes
him in lukewarm water, and anoints him all over with sweet-smelling
unguents, and clothes him in a shirt of the softest sendal, all scented
and perfumed, while another damsel comes and throws over his shoulders
a mantle which is said to be worth at the very least a city, and even
more? How charming it is, then, when they tell us how, after all this,
they lead him to another chamber where he finds the tables set out in
such style that he is filled with amazement and wonder; to see how they
pour out water for his hands distilled from amber and sweet-scented
flowers; how they seat him on an ivory chair; to see how the damsels
wait on him all in profound silence; how they bring him such a variety
of dainties so temptingly prepared that the appetite is at a loss which
to select; to hear the music that resounds while he is at table, by
whom or whence produced he knows not. And then when the repast is over
and the tables removed, for the knight to recline in the chair, picking
his teeth perhaps as usual, and a damsel, much lovelier than any of the
others, to enter unexpectedly by the chamber door, and herself by his
side, and begin to tell him what the castle is, and how she is held
enchanted there, and other things that amaze the knight and astonish
the readers who are perusing his history.
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“But I will not expatiate any further upon this, as it may be gathered
from it that whatever part of whatever history of a knight-errant one
reads, it will fill the reader, whoever he be, with delight and wonder;
and take my advice, sir, and, as I said before, read these books and
you will see how they will banish any melancholy you may feel and raise
your spirits should they be depressed. For myself I can say that since
I have been a knight-errant I have become valiant, polite, generous,
well-bred, magnanimous, courteous, dauntless, gentle, patient, and have
learned to bear hardships, imprisonments, and enchantments; and though
it be such a short time since I have seen myself shut up in a cage like
a madman, I hope by the might of my arm, if heaven aid me and fortune
thwart me not, to see myself king of some kingdom where I may be able
to show the gratitude and generosity that dwell in my heart; for by my
faith, señor, the poor man is incapacitated from showing the virtue of
generosity to anyone, though he may possess it in the highest degree;
and gratitude that consists of disposition only is a dead thing, just
as faith without works is dead. For this reason I should be glad were
fortune soon to offer me some opportunity of making myself an emperor,
so as to show my heart in doing good to my friends, particularly to
this poor Sancho Panza, my squire, who is the best fellow in the world;
and I would gladly give him a county I have promised him this ever so
long, only that I am afraid he has not the capacity to govern his
realm.”
Sancho partly heard these last words of his master, and said to him,
“Strive hard you, Señor Don Quixote, to give me that county so often
promised by you and so long looked for by me, for I promise you there
will be no want of capacity in me to govern it; and even if there is, I
have heard say there are men in the world who farm seigniories, paying
so much a year, and they themselves taking charge of the government,
while the lord, with his legs stretched out, enjoys the revenue they
pay him, without troubling himself about anything else. That’s what
I’ll do, and not stand haggling over trifles, but wash my hands at once
of the whole business, and enjoy my rents like a duke, and let things
go their own way.”
“That, brother Sancho,” said the canon, “only holds good as far as the
enjoyment of the revenue goes; but the lord of the seigniory must
attend to the administration of justice, and here capacity and sound
judgment come in, and above all a firm determination to find out the
truth; for if this be wanting in the beginning, the middle and the end
will always go wrong; and God as commonly aids the honest intentions of
the simple as he frustrates the evil designs of the crafty.”
“I don’t understand those philosophies,” returned Sancho Panza; “all I
know is I would I had the county as soon as I shall know how to govern
it; for I have as much soul as another, and as much body as anyone, and
I shall be as much king of my realm as any other of his; and being so I
should do as I liked, and doing as I liked I should please myself, and
pleasing myself I should be content, and when one is content he has
nothing more to desire, and when one has nothing more to desire there
is an end of it; so let the county come, and God be with you, and let
us see one another, as one blind man said to the other.”
“That is not bad philosophy thou art talking, Sancho,” said the canon;
“but for all that there is a good deal to be said on this matter of
counties.”
To which Don Quixote returned, “I know not what more there is to be
said; I only guide myself by the example set me by the great Amadis of
Gaul, when he made his squire count of the Insula Firme; and so,
without any scruples of conscience, I can make a count of Sancho Panza,
for he is one of the best squires that ever knight-errant had.”
The canon was astonished at the methodical nonsense (if nonsense be
capable of method) that Don Quixote uttered, at the way in which he had
described the adventure of the knight of the lake, at the impression
that the deliberate lies of the books he read had made upon him, and
lastly he marvelled at the simplicity of Sancho, who desired so eagerly
to obtain the county his master had promised him.
By this time the canon’s servants, who had gone to the inn to fetch the
sumpter mule, had returned, and making a carpet and the green grass of
the meadow serve as a table, they seated themselves in the shade of
some trees and made their repast there, that the carter might not be
deprived of the advantage of the spot, as has been already said. As
they were eating they suddenly heard a loud noise and the sound of a
bell that seemed to come from among some brambles and thick bushes that
were close by, and the same instant they observed a beautiful goat,
spotted all over black, white, and brown, spring out of the thicket
with a goatherd after it, calling to it and uttering the usual cries to
make it stop or turn back to the fold. The fugitive goat, scared and
frightened, ran towards the company as if seeking their protection and
then stood still, and the goatherd coming up seized it by the horns and
began to talk to it as if it were possessed of reason and
understanding: “Ah wanderer, wanderer, Spotty, Spotty; how have you
gone limping all this time? What wolves have frightened you, my
daughter? Won’t you tell me what is the matter, my beauty? But what
else can it be except that you are a she, and cannot keep quiet? A
plague on your humours and the humours of those you take after! Come
back, come back, my darling; and if you will not be so happy, at any
rate you will be safe in the fold or with your companions; for if you
who ought to keep and lead them, go wandering astray, what will become
of them?”
The goatherd’s talk amused all who heard it, but especially the canon,
who said to him, “As you live, brother, take it easy, and be not in
such a hurry to drive this goat back to the fold; for, being a female,
as you say, she will follow her natural instinct in spite of all you
can do to prevent it. Take this morsel and drink a sup, and that will
soothe your irritation, and in the meantime the goat will rest
herself,” and so saying, he handed him the loins of a cold rabbit on a
fork.
The goatherd took it with thanks, and drank and calmed himself, and
then said, “I should be sorry if your worships were to take me for a
simpleton for having spoken so seriously as I did to this animal; but
the truth is there is a certain mystery in the words I used. I am a
clown, but not so much of one but that I know how to behave to men and
to beasts.”
“That I can well believe,” said the curate, “for I know already by
experience that the woods breed men of learning, and shepherds’ huts
harbour philosophers.”
“At all events, señor,” returned the goatherd, “they shelter men of
experience; and that you may see the truth of this and grasp it, though
I may seem to put myself forward without being asked, I will, if it
will not tire you, gentlemen, and you will give me your attention for a
little, tell you a true story which will confirm this gentleman’s word
(and he pointed to the curate) as well as my own.”
To this Don Quixote replied, “Seeing that this affair has a certain
colour of chivalry about it, I for my part, brother, will hear you most
gladly, and so will all these gentlemen, from the high intelligence
they possess and their love of curious novelties that interest, charm,
and entertain the mind, as I feel quite sure your story will do. So
begin, friend, for we are all prepared to listen.”
“I draw my stakes,” said Sancho, “and will retreat with this pasty to
the brook there, where I mean to victual myself for three days; for I
have heard my lord, Don Quixote, say that a knight-errant’s squire
should eat until he can hold no more, whenever he has the chance,
because it often happens them to get by accident into a wood so thick
that they cannot find a way out of it for six days; and if the man is
not well filled or his alforjas well stored, there he may stay, as very
often he does, turned into a dried mummy.”
“Thou art in the right of it, Sancho,” said Don Quixote; “go where thou
wilt and eat all thou canst, for I have had enough, and only want to
give my mind its refreshment, as I shall by listening to this good
fellow’s story.”
“It is what we shall all do,” said the canon; and then begged the
goatherd to begin the promised tale.
The goatherd gave the goat which he held by the horns a couple of slaps
on the back, saying, “Lie down here beside me, Spotty, for we have time
enough to return to our fold.” The goat seemed to understand him, for
as her master seated himself, she stretched herself quietly beside him
and looked up in his face to show him she was all attention to what he
was going to say, and then in these words he began his story.
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