It so happened his niece and the housekeeper overheard all the threeof them said; and as soon as they were gone they both of them camein to Don Quixote, and said the niece, "What's this, uncle? Now thatwe were thinking you had come back to stay at home and lead a quietrespectable life there, are you going to get into fresh entanglements,and turn 'young shepherd, thou that comest here, young shepherdgoing there?' Nay! indeed 'the straw is too hard now to make pipesof.'"
"And," added the housekeeper, "will your worship be able to bear,out in the fields, the heats of summer, and the chills of winter,and the howling of the wolves? Not you; for that's a life and abusiness for hardy men, bred and seasoned to such work almost from thetime they were in swaddling-clothes. Why, to make choice of evils,it's better to be a knight-errant than a shepherd! Look here, senor;take my advice- and I'm not giving it to you full of bread and wine,but fasting, and with fifty years upon my head- stay at home, lookafter your affairs, go often to confession, be good to the poor, andupon my soul be it if any evil comes to you."
"Hold your peace, my daughters," said Don Quixote; "I know very wellwhat my duty is; help me to bed, for I don't feel very well; andrest assured that, knight-errant now or wandering shepherd to be, Ishall never fail to have a care for your interests, as you will see inthe end." And the good wenches (for that they undoubtedly were), thehousekeeper and niece, helped him to bed, where they gave himsomething to eat and made him as comfortable as possible.CHAPTER LXXIV
OF HOW DON QUIXOTE FELL SICK, AND OF THE WILL HE MADE, AND HOW HEDIED
AS NOTHING that is man's can last for ever, but all tends everdownwards from its beginning to its end, and above all man's life, andas Don Quixote's enjoyed no special dispensation from heaven to stayits course, its end and close came when he least looked for it. For-whether it was of the dejection the thought of his defeat produced, orof heaven's will that so ordered it- a fever settled upon him and kepthim in his bed for six days, during which he was often visited byhis friends the curate, the bachelor, and the barber, while his goodsquire Sancho Panza never quitted his bedside. They, persuaded that itwas grief at finding himself vanquished, and the object of hisheart, the liberation and disenchantment of Dulcinea, unattained, thatkept him in this state, strove by all the means in their power tocheer him up; the bachelor bidding him take heart and get up tobegin his pastoral life, for which he himself, he said, had alreadycomposed an eclogue that would take the shine out of all Sannazaro hadever written, and had bought with his own money two famous dogs toguard the flock, one called Barcino and the other Butron, which aherdsman of Quintanar had sold him.
But for all this Don Quixote could not shake off his sadness. Hisfriends called in the doctor, who felt his pulse and was not very wellsatisfied with it, and said that in any case it would be well forhim to attend to the health of his soul, as that of his body was ina bad way. Don Quixote heard this calmly; but not so hishousekeeper, his niece, and his squire, who fell weeping bitterly,as if they had him lying dead before them. The doctor's opinion wasthat melancholy and depression were bringing him to his end. DonQuixote begged them to leave him to himself, as he had a wish to sleepa little. They obeyed, and he slept at one stretch, as the sayingis, more than six hours, so that the housekeeper and niece thoughthe was going to sleep for ever. But at the end of that time he wokeup, and in a loud voice exclaimed, "Blessed be Almighty God, who hasshown me such goodness. In truth his mercies are boundless, and thesins of men can neither limit them nor keep them back!"
The niece listened with attention to her uncle's words, and theystruck her as more coherent than what usually fell from him, atleast during his illness, so she asked, "What are you saying, senor?Has anything strange occurred? What mercies or what sins of men areyou talking of?"
"The mercies, niece," said Don Quixote, "are those that God has thismoment shown me, and with him, as I said, my sins are no impediment tothem. My reason is now free and clear, rid of the dark shadows ofignorance that my unhappy constant study of those detestable booksof chivalry cast over it. Now I see through their absurdities anddeceptions, and it only grieves me that this destruction of myillusions has come so late that it leaves me no time to make someamends by reading other books that might be a light to my soul. Niece,I feel myself at the point of death, and I would fain meet it insuch a way as to show that my life has not been so ill that I shouldleave behind me the name of a madman; for though I have been one, Iwould not that the fact should be made plainer at my death. Call in tome, my dear, my good friends the curate, the bachelor Samson Carrasco,and Master Nicholas the barber, for I wish to confess and make mywill." But his niece was saved the trouble by the entrance of thethree. The instant Don Quixote saw them he exclaimed, "Good news foryou, good sirs, that I am no longer Don Quixote of La Mancha, butAlonso Quixano, whose way of life won for him the name of Good. Now amI the enemy of Amadis of Gaul and of the whole countless troop ofhis descendants; odious to me now are all the profane stories ofknight-errantry; now I perceive my folly, and the peril into whichreading them brought me; now, by God's mercy schooled into my rightsenses, I loathe them."
When the three heard him speak in this way, they had no doubtwhatever that some new craze had taken possession of him; and saidSamson, "What? Senor Don Quixote! Now that we have intelligence of thelady Dulcinea being disenchanted, are you taking this line; now,just as we are on the point of becoming shepherds, to pass our livessinging, like princes, are you thinking of turning hermit? Hush, forheaven's sake, be rational and let's have no more nonsense."
"All that nonsense," said Don Quixote, "that until now has been areality to my hurt, my death will, with heaven's help, turn to mygood. I feel, sirs, that I am rapidly drawing near death; a truce tojesting; let me have a confessor to confess me, and a notary to makemy will; for in extremities like this, man must not trifle with hissoul; and while the curate is confessing me let some one, I beg, gofor the notary."
They looked at one another, wondering at Don Quixote's words; but,though uncertain, they were inclined to believe him, and one of thesigns by which they came to the conclusion he was dying was this sosudden and complete return to his senses after having been mad; for tothe words already quoted he added much more, so well expressed, sodevout, and so rational, as to banish all doubt and convince them thathe was sound of mind. The curate turned them all out, and left alonewith him confessed him. The bachelor went for the notary andreturned shortly afterwards with him and with Sancho, who, havingalready learned from the bachelor the condition his master was in, andfinding the housekeeper and niece weeping, began to blubber and shedtears.
The confession over, the curate came out saying, "Alonso Quixano theGood is indeed dying, and is indeed in his right mind; we may now goin to him while he makes his will."
This news gave a tremendous impulse to the brimming eyes of thehousekeeper, niece, and Sancho Panza his good squire, making the tearsburst from their eyes and a host of sighs from their hearts; for ofa truth, as has been said more than once, whether as plain AlonsoQuixano the Good, or as Don Quixote of La Mancha, Don Quixote wasalways of a gentle disposition and kindly in all his ways, and hencehe was beloved, not only by those of his own house, but by all whoknew him.
The notary came in with the rest, and as soon as the preamble of thehad been set out and Don Quixote had commended his soul to God withall the devout formalities that are usual, coming to the bequests,he said, "Item, it is my will that, touching certain moneys in thehands of Sancho Panza (whom in my madness I made my squire),inasmuch as between him and me there have been certain accounts anddebits and credits, no claim be made against him, nor any accountdemanded of him in respect of them; but that if anything remain overand above, after he has paid himself what I owe him, the balance,which will be but little, shall be his, and much good may it do him;and if, as when I was mad I had a share in giving him the governmentof an island, so, now that I am in my senses, I could give him that ofa kingdom, it should be his, for the simplicity of his character andthe fidelity of his conduct deserve it." And then, turning toSancho, he said, "Forgive me, my friend, that I led thee to seem asmad as myself, making thee fall into the same error I myself fellinto, that there were and still are knights-errant in the world."
"Ah!" said Sancho weeping, "don't die, master, but take my adviceand live many years; for the foolishest thing a man can do in thislife is to let himself die without rhyme or reason, without anybodykilling him, or any hands but melancholy's making an end of him. Come,don't be lazy, but get up from your bed and let us take to thefields in shepherd's trim as we agreed. Perhaps behind some bush weshall find the lady Dulcinea disenchanted, as fine as fine can be.If it be that you are dying of vexation at having been vanquished, laythe blame on me, and say you were overthrown because I had girthedRocinante badly; besides you must have seen in your books ofchivalry that it is a common thing for knights to upset one another,and for him who is conquered to-day to be conqueror tomorrow."
"Very true," said Samson, "and good Sancho Panza's view of thesecases is quite right."
"Sirs, not so fast," said Don Quixote, "'in last year's neststhere are no birds this year.' I was mad, now I am in my senses; I wasDon Quixote of La Mancha, I am now, as I said, Alonso Quixano theGood; and may my repentance and sincerity restore me to the esteem youused to have for me; and now let Master Notary proceed.
"Item, I leave all my property absolutely to Antonia Quixana myniece, here present, after all has been deducted from the mostavailable portion of it that may be required to satisfy the bequests Ihave made. And the first disbursement I desire to be made is thepayment of the wages I owe for the time my housekeeper has servedme, with twenty ducats, over and above, for a gown. The curate and thebachelor Samson Carrasco, now present, I appoint my executors.
"Item, it is my wish that if Antonia Quixana, my niece, desires tomarry, she shall marry a man of whom it shall be first of allascertained by information taken that he does not know what books ofchivalry are; and if it should be proved that he does, and if, inspite of this, my niece insists upon marrying him, and does marry him,then that she shall forfeit the whole of what I have left her, whichmy executors shall devote to works of charity as they please.
"Item, I entreat the aforesaid gentlemen my executors, that, ifany happy chance should lead them to discover the author who is saidto have written a history now going about under the title of 'SecondPart of the Achievements of Don Quixote of La Mancha,' they beg of himon my behalf as earnestly as they can to forgive me for having been,without intending it, the cause of his writing so many and suchmonstrous absurdities as he has written in it; for I am leaving theworld with a feeling of compunction at having provoked him to writethem."
With this he closed his will, and a faintness coming over him hestretched himself out at full length on the bed. All were in a flutterand made haste to relieve him, and during the three days he livedafter that on which he made his will he fainted away very often. Thehouse was all in confusion; but still the niece ate and thehousekeeper drank and Sancho Panza enjoyed himself; for inheritingproperty wipes out or softens down in the heir the feeling of griefthe dead man might be expected to leave behind him.
At last Don Quixote's end came, after he had received all thesacraments, and had in full and forcible terms expressed hisdetestation of books of chivalry. The notary was there at the time,and he said that in no book of chivalry had he ever read of anyknight-errant dying in his bed so calmly and so like a Christian asDon Quixote, who amid the tears and lamentations of all presentyielded up his spirit, that is to say died. On perceiving it thecurate begged the notary to bear witness that Alonso Quixano the Good,commonly called Don Quixote of La Mancha, had passed away from thispresent life, and died naturally; and said he desired this testimonyin order to remove the possibility of any other author save CideHamete Benengeli bringing him to life again falsely and makinginterminable stories out of his achievements.
Such was the end of the Ingenious Gentleman of La Mancha, whosevillage Cide Hamete would not indicate precisely, in order to leaveall the towns and villages of La Mancha to contend among themselvesfor the right to adopt him and claim him as a son, as the seven citiesof Greece contended for Homer. The lamentations of Sancho and theniece and housekeeper are omitted here, as well as the new epitaphsupon his tomb; Samson Carrasco, however, put the following lines:
A doughty gentleman lies here;
A stranger all his life to fear;
Nor in his death could Death prevail,
In that last hour, to make him quail.
He for the world but little cared;
And at his feats the world was scared;
A crazy man his life he passed,
But in his senses died at last.
And said most sage Cide Hamete to his pen, "Rest here, hung up bythis brass wire, upon this shelf, O my pen, whether of skilful make orclumsy cut I know not; here shalt thou remain long ages hence,unless presumptuous or malignant story-tellers take thee down toprofane thee. But ere they touch thee warn them, and, as best thoucanst, say to them:
Hold off! ye weaklings; hold your hands!
Adventure it let none,
For this emprise, my lord the king,
Was meant for me alone.For me alone was Don Quixote born, and I for him; it was his to act,mine to write; we two together make but one, notwithstanding and inspite of that pretended Tordesillesque writer who has ventured orwould venture with his great, coarse, ill-trimmed ostrich quill towrite the achievements of my valiant knight;- no burden for hisshoulders, nor subject for his frozen wit: whom, if perchance thoushouldst come to know him, thou shalt warn to leave at rest where theylie the weary mouldering bones of Don Quixote, and not to attempt tocarry him off, in opposition to all the privileges of death, to OldCastile, making him rise from the grave where in reality and truthhe lies stretched at full length, powerless to make any thirdexpedition or new sally; for the two that he has already made, so muchto the enjoyment and approval of everybody to whom they have becomeknown, in this as well as in foreign countries, are quite sufficientfor the purpose of turning into ridicule the whole of those made bythe whole set of the knights-errant; and so doing shalt thou dischargethy Christian calling, giving good counsel to one that bearsill-will to thee. And I shall remain satisfied, and proud to have beenthe first who has ever enjoyed the fruit of his writings as fully ashe could desire; for my desire has been no other than to deliverover to the detestation of mankind the false and foolish tales ofthe books of chivalry, which, thanks to that of my true Don Quixote,are even now tottering, and doubtless doomed to fall for ever.Farewell."