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Home -> Miguel de Cervantes -> Don Quixote -> Chapter 15

Don Quixote - Chapter 15

1. The Author's Preface

2. Dedication of Volume I

3. Chapter 1

4. Chapter 2

5. Chapter 3

6. Chapter 4

7. Chapter 5

8. Chapter 6

9. Chapter 7

10. Chapter 8

11. Chapter 9

12. Chapter 10

13. Chapter 11

14. Chapter 12

15. Chapter 13

16. Chapter 14

17. Chapter 15

18. Chapter 16

19. Chapter 17

20. Chapter 18

21. Chapter 19

22. Chapter 20

23. Chapter 21

24. Chapter 22

25. Chapter 23

26. Chapter 24

27. Chapter 25

28. Chapter 26

29. Chapter 27

30. Chapter 28

31. Chapter 29

32. Chapter 30

33. Chapter 31

34. Chapter 32

35. Chapter 33

36. Chapter 34

37. Chapter 35

38. Chapter 36

39. Chapter 37

40. Chapter 38

41. Chapter 39

42. Chapter 40

43. Chapter 41

44. Chapter 42

45. Chapter 43

46. Chapter 44

47. Chapter 45

48. Chapter 46

49. Chapter 47

50. Chapter 48

51. Chapter 49

52. Chapter 50

53. Chapter 51

54. Chapter 52

55. Dedication of Volume II

56. The Author's Preface

57. Chapter 1

58. Chapter 2

59. Chapter 3

60. Chapter 4

61. Chapter 5

62. Chapter 6

63. Chapter 7

64. Chapter 8

65. Chapter 9

66. Chapter 10

67. Chapter 11

68. Chapter 12

69. Chapter 13

70. Chapter 14

71. Chapter 15

72. Chapter 16

73. Chapter 17

74. Chapter 18

75. Chapter 19

76. Chapter 20

77. Chapter 21

78. Chapter 22

79. Chapter 23

80. Chapter 24

81. Chapter 25

82. Chapter 26

83. Chapter 27

84. Chapter 28

85. Chapter 29

86. Chapter 30

87. Chapter 31

88. Chapter 32

89. Chapter 33

90. Chapter 34

91. Chapter 35

92. Chapter 36

93. Chapter 37

94. Chapter 38

95. Chapter 39

96. Chapter 40

97. Chapter 41

98. Chapter 42

99. Chapter 43

100. Chapter 44

101. Chapter 45

102. Chapter 46

103. Chapter 47

104. Chapter 48

105. Chapter 49

106. Chapter 50

107. Chapter 51

108. Chapter 52

109. Chapter 53

110. Chapter 54

111. Chapter 55

112. Chapter 56

113. Chapter 57

114. Chapter 58

115. Chapter 59

116. Chapter 60

117. Chapter 61

118. Chapter 62

119. Chapter 63

120. Chapter 64

121. Chapter 65

122. Chapter 66

123. Chapter 67

124. Chapter 68

125. Chapter 69

126. Chapter 70

127. Chapter 71

128. Chapter 72

129. Chapter 73

130. Chapter 74







CHAPTER XV.

IN WHICH IS RELATED THE UNFORTUNATE ADVENTURE THAT DON QUIXOTE FELL IN
WITH WHEN HE FELL OUT WITH CERTAIN HEARTLESS YANGUESANS


The sage Cide Hamete Benengeli relates that as soon as Don Quixote took
leave of his hosts and all who had been present at the burial of
Chrysostom, he and his squire passed into the same wood which they had
seen the shepherdess Marcela enter, and after having wandered for more
than two hours in all directions in search of her without finding her,
they came to a halt in a glade covered with tender grass, beside which
ran a pleasant cool stream that invited and compelled them to pass there
the hours of the noontide heat, which by this time was beginning to come
on oppressively. Don Quixote and Sancho dismounted, and turning Rocinante
and the ass loose to feed on the grass that was there in abundance, they
ransacked the alforjas, and without any ceremony very peacefully and
sociably master and man made their repast on what they found in them.

Sancho had not thought it worth while to hobble Rocinante, feeling sure,
from what he knew of his staidness and freedom from incontinence, that
all the mares in the Cordova pastures would not lead him into an
impropriety. Chance, however, and the devil, who is not always asleep, so
ordained it that feeding in this valley there was a drove of Galician
ponies belonging to certain Yanguesan carriers, whose way it is to take
their midday rest with their teams in places and spots where grass and
water abound; and that where Don Quixote chanced to be suited the
Yanguesans' purpose very well. It so happened, then, that Rocinante took
a fancy to disport himself with their ladyships the ponies, and
abandoning his usual gait and demeanour as he scented them, he, without
asking leave of his master, got up a briskish little trot and hastened to
make known his wishes to them; they, however, it seemed, preferred their
pasture to him, and received him with their heels and teeth to such
effect that they soon broke his girths and left him naked without a
saddle to cover him; but what must have been worse to him was that the
carriers, seeing the violence he was offering to their mares, came
running up armed with stakes, and so belaboured him that they brought him
sorely battered to the ground.

By this time Don Quixote and Sancho, who had witnessed the drubbing of
Rocinante, came up panting, and said Don Quixote to Sancho:

"So far as I can see, friend Sancho, these are not knights but base folk
of low birth: I mention it because thou canst lawfully aid me in taking
due vengeance for the insult offered to Rocinante before our eyes."

"What the devil vengeance can we take," answered Sancho, "if they are
more than twenty, and we no more than two, or, indeed, perhaps not more
than one and a half?"

"I count for a hundred," replied Don Quixote, and without more words he
drew his sword and attacked the Yanguesans and excited and impelled by
the example of his master, Sancho did the same; and to begin with, Don
Quixote delivered a slash at one of them that laid open the leather
jerkin he wore, together with a great portion of his shoulder. The
Yanguesans, seeing themselves assaulted by only two men while they were
so many, betook themselves to their stakes, and driving the two into the
middle they began to lay on with great zeal and energy; in fact, at the
second blow they brought Sancho to the ground, and Don Quixote fared the
same way, all his skill and high mettle availing him nothing, and fate
willed it that he should fall at the feet of Rocinante, who had not yet
risen; whereby it may be seen how furiously stakes can pound in angry
boorish hands.

Then, seeing the mischief they had done, the Yanguesans with all the
haste they could loaded their team and pursued their journey, leaving the
two adventurers a sorry sight and in sorrier mood.

Sancho was the first to come to, and finding himself close to his master
he called to him in a weak and doleful voice, "Senor Don Quixote, ah,
Senor Don Quixote!"

"What wouldst thou, brother Sancho?" answered Don Quixote in the same
feeble suffering tone as Sancho.

"I would like, if it were possible," answered Sancho Panza, "your worship
to give me a couple of sups of that potion of the fiery Blas, if it be
that you have any to hand there; perhaps it will serve for broken bones
as well as for wounds."

"If I only had it here, wretch that I am, what more should we want?" said
Don Quixote; "but I swear to thee, Sancho Panza, on the faith of a
knight-errant, ere two days are over, unless fortune orders otherwise, I
mean to have it in my possession, or my hand will have lost its cunning."

"But in how many does your worship think we shall have the use of our
feet?" answered Sancho Panza.

"For myself I must say I cannot guess how many," said the battered knight
Don Quixote; "but I take all the blame upon myself, for I had no business
to put hand to sword against men who where not dubbed knights like
myself, and so I believe that in punishment for having transgressed the
laws of chivalry the God of battles has permitted this chastisement to be
administered to me; for which reason, brother Sancho, it is well thou
shouldst receive a hint on the matter which I am now about to mention to
thee, for it is of much importance to the welfare of both of us. It is at
when thou shalt see rabble of this sort offering us insult thou art not
to wait till I draw sword against them, for I shall not do so at all; but
do thou draw sword and chastise them to thy heart's content, and if any
knights come to their aid and defence I will take care to defend thee and
assail them with all my might; and thou hast already seen by a thousand
signs and proofs what the might of this strong arm of mine is equal
to"--so uplifted had the poor gentleman become through the victory over
the stout Biscayan.

But Sancho did not so fully approve of his master's admonition as to let
it pass without saying in reply, "Senor, I am a man of peace, meek and
quiet, and I can put up with any affront because I have a wife and
children to support and bring up; so let it be likewise a hint to your
worship, as it cannot be a mandate, that on no account will I draw sword
either against clown or against knight, and that here before God I
forgive the insults that have been offered me, whether they have been,
are, or shall be offered me by high or low, rich or poor, noble or
commoner, not excepting any rank or condition whatsoever."

To all which his master said in reply, "I wish I had breath enough to
speak somewhat easily, and that the pain I feel on this side would abate
so as to let me explain to thee, Panza, the mistake thou makest. Come
now, sinner, suppose the wind of fortune, hitherto so adverse, should
turn in our favour, filling the sails of our desires so that safely and
without impediment we put into port in some one of those islands I have
promised thee, how would it be with thee if on winning it I made thee
lord of it? Why, thou wilt make it well-nigh impossible through not being
a knight nor having any desire to be one, nor possessing the courage nor
the will to avenge insults or defend thy lordship; for thou must know
that in newly conquered kingdoms and provinces the minds of the
inhabitants are never so quiet nor so well disposed to the new lord that
there is no fear of their making some move to change matters once more,
and try, as they say, what chance may do for them; so it is essential
that the new possessor should have good sense to enable him to govern,
and valour to attack and defend himself, whatever may befall him."

"In what has now befallen us," answered Sancho, "I'd have been well
pleased to have that good sense and that valour your worship speaks of,
but I swear on the faith of a poor man I am more fit for plasters than
for arguments. See if your worship can get up, and let us help Rocinante,
though he does not deserve it, for he was the main cause of all this
thrashing. I never thought it of Rocinante, for I took him to be a
virtuous person and as quiet as myself. After all, they say right that it
takes a long time to come to know people, and that there is nothing sure
in this life. Who would have said that, after such mighty slashes as your
worship gave that unlucky knight-errant, there was coming, travelling
post and at the very heels of them, such a great storm of sticks as has
fallen upon our shoulders?"

"And yet thine, Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "ought to be used to such
squalls; but mine, reared in soft cloth and fine linen, it is plain they
must feel more keenly the pain of this mishap, and if it were not that I
imagine--why do I say imagine?--know of a certainty that all these
annoyances are very necessary accompaniments of the calling of arms, I
would lay me down here to die of pure vexation."

To this the squire replied, "Senor, as these mishaps are what one reaps
of chivalry, tell me if they happen very often, or if they have their own
fixed times for coming to pass; because it seems to me that after two
harvests we shall be no good for the third, unless God in his infinite
mercy helps us."

"Know, friend Sancho," answered Don Quixote, "that the life of
knights-errant is subject to a thousand dangers and reverses, and neither
more nor less is it within immediate possibility for knights-errant to
become kings and emperors, as experience has shown in the case of many
different knights with whose histories I am thoroughly acquainted; and I
could tell thee now, if the pain would let me, of some who simply by
might of arm have risen to the high stations I have mentioned; and those
same, both before and after, experienced divers misfortunes and miseries;
for the valiant Amadis of Gaul found himself in the power of his mortal
enemy Arcalaus the magician, who, it is positively asserted, holding him
captive, gave him more than two hundred lashes with the reins of his
horse while tied to one of the pillars of a court; and moreover there is
a certain recondite author of no small authority who says that the Knight
of Phoebus, being caught in a certain pitfall, which opened under his
feet in a certain castle, on falling found himself bound hand and foot in
a deep pit underground, where they administered to him one of those
things they call clysters, of sand and snow-water, that well-nigh
finished him; and if he had not been succoured in that sore extremity by
a sage, a great friend of his, it would have gone very hard with the poor
knight; so I may well suffer in company with such worthy folk, for
greater were the indignities which they had to suffer than those which we
suffer. For I would have thee know, Sancho, that wounds caused by any
instruments which happen by chance to be in hand inflict no indignity,
and this is laid down in the law of the duel in express words: if, for
instance, the cobbler strikes another with the last which he has in his
hand, though it be in fact a piece of wood, it cannot be said for that
reason that he whom he struck with it has been cudgelled. I say this lest
thou shouldst imagine that because we have been drubbed in this affray we
have therefore suffered any indignity; for the arms those men carried,
with which they pounded us, were nothing more than their stakes, and not
one of them, so far as I remember, carried rapier, sword, or dagger."

"They gave me no time to see that much," answered Sancho, "for hardly had
I laid hand on my tizona when they signed the cross on my shoulders with
their sticks in such style that they took the sight out of my eyes and
the strength out of my feet, stretching me where I now lie, and where
thinking of whether all those stake-strokes were an indignity or not
gives me no uneasiness, which the pain of the blows does, for they will
remain as deeply impressed on my memory as on my shoulders."

"For all that let me tell thee, brother Panza," said Don Quixote, "that
there is no recollection which time does not put an end to, and no pain
which death does not remove."

"And what greater misfortune can there be," replied Panza, "than the one
that waits for time to put an end to it and death to remove it? If our
mishap were one of those that are cured with a couple of plasters, it
would not be so bad; but I am beginning to think that all the plasters in
a hospital almost won't be enough to put us right."

"No more of that: pluck strength out of weakness, Sancho, as I mean to
do," returned Don Quixote, "and let us see how Rocinante is, for it seems
to me that not the least share of this mishap has fallen to the lot of
the poor beast."

"There is nothing wonderful in that," replied Sancho, "since he is a
knight-errant too; what I wonder at is that my beast should have come off
scot-free where we come out scotched."

"Fortune always leaves a door open in adversity in order to bring relief
to it," said Don Quixote; "I say so because this little beast may now
supply the want of Rocinante, carrying me hence to some castle where I
may be cured of my wounds. And moreover I shall not hold it any dishonour
to be so mounted, for I remember having read how the good old Silenus,
the tutor and instructor of the gay god of laughter, when he entered the
city of the hundred gates, went very contentedly mounted on a handsome
ass."

"It may be true that he went mounted as your worship says," answered
Sancho, "but there is a great difference between going mounted and going
slung like a sack of manure."

To which Don Quixote replied, "Wounds received in battle confer honour
instead of taking it away; and so, friend Panza, say no more, but, as I
told thee before, get up as well as thou canst and put me on top of thy
beast in whatever fashion pleases thee best, and let us go hence ere
night come on and surprise us in these wilds."

"And yet I have heard your worship say," observed Panza, "that it is very
meet for knights-errant to sleep in wastes and deserts, and that they
esteem it very good fortune."

"That is," said Don Quixote, "when they cannot help it, or when they are
in love; and so true is this that there have been knights who have
remained two years on rocks, in sunshine and shade and all the
inclemencies of heaven, without their ladies knowing anything of it; and
one of these was Amadis, when, under the name of Beltenebros, he took up
his abode on the Pena Pobre for--I know not if it was eight years or
eight months, for I am not very sure of the reckoning; at any rate he
stayed there doing penance for I know not what pique the Princess Oriana
had against him; but no more of this now, Sancho, and make haste before a
mishap like Rocinante's befalls the ass."

"The very devil would be in it in that case," said Sancho; and letting
off thirty "ohs," and sixty sighs, and a hundred and twenty maledictions
and execrations on whomsoever it was that had brought him there, he
raised himself, stopping half-way bent like a Turkish bow without power
to bring himself upright, but with all his pains he saddled his ass, who
too had gone astray somewhat, yielding to the excessive licence of the
day; he next raised up Rocinante, and as for him, had he possessed a
tongue to complain with, most assuredly neither Sancho nor his master
would have been behind him.

To be brief, Sancho fixed Don Quixote on the ass and secured Rocinante
with a leading rein, and taking the ass by the halter, he proceeded more
or less in the direction in which it seemed to him the high road might
be; and, as chance was conducting their affairs for them from good to
better, he had not gone a short league when the road came in sight, and
on it he perceived an inn, which to his annoyance and to the delight of
Don Quixote must needs be a castle. Sancho insisted that it was an inn,
and his master that it was not one, but a castle, and the dispute lasted
so long that before the point was settled they had time to reach it, and
into it Sancho entered with all his team without any further controversy.




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