第 24 页

CHAPTER XXIII

OF WHAT BEFELL DON QUIXOTE IN THE SIERRA MORENA, WHICH WAS ONE OFTHE RAREST ADVENTURES RELATED IN THIS VERACIOUS HISTORY

SEEING himself served in this way, Don Quixote said to his squire,"I have always heard it said, Sancho, that to do good to boors is tothrow water into the sea. If I had believed thy words, I should haveavoided this trouble; but it is done now, it is only to havepatience and take warning for the future."

"Your worship will take warning as much as I am a Turk," returnedSancho; "but, as you say this mischief might have been avoided ifyou had believed me, believe me now, and a still greater one will beavoided; for I tell you chivalry is of no account with the HolyBrotherhood, and they don't care two maravedis for all theknights-errant in the world; and I can tell you I fancy I hear theirarrows whistling past my ears this minute."

"Thou art a coward by nature, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "but lestthou shouldst say I am obstinate, and that I never do as thou dostadvise, this once I will take thy advice, and withdraw out of reach ofthat fury thou so dreadest; but it must be on one condition, thatnever, in life or in death, thou art to say to anyone that I retiredor withdrew from this danger out of fear, but only in compliancewith thy entreaties; for if thou sayest otherwise thou wilt lietherein, and from this time to that, and from that to this, I givethee lie, and say thou liest and wilt lie every time thou thinkestor sayest it; and answer me not again; for at the mere thought thatI am withdrawing or retiring from any danger, above all from this,which does seem to carry some little shadow of fear with it, I amready to take my stand here and await alone, not only that HolyBrotherhood you talk of and dread, but the brothers of the twelvetribes of Israel, and the Seven Maccabees, and Castor and Pollux,and all the brothers and brotherhoods in the world."

"Senor," replied Sancho, "to retire is not to flee, and there isno wisdom in waiting when danger outweighs hope, and it is the part ofwise men to preserve themselves to-day for to-morrow, and not risk allin one day; and let me tell you, though I am a clown and a boor, Ihave got some notion of what they call safe conduct; so repent notof having taken my advice, but mount Rocinante if you can, and ifnot I will help you; and follow me, for my mother-wit tells me we havemore need of legs than hands just now."

Don Quixote mounted without replying, and, Sancho leading the way onhis ass, they entered the side of the Sierra Morena, which was closeby, as it was Sancho's design to cross it entirely and come outagain at El Viso or Almodovar del Campo, and hide for some daysamong its crags so as to escape the search of the Brotherhood shouldthey come to look for them. He was encouraged in this by perceivingthat the stock of provisions carried by the ass had come safe out ofthe fray with the galley slaves, a circumstance that he regarded asa miracle, seeing how they pillaged and ransacked.

That night they reached the very heart of the Sierra Morena, whereit seemed prudent to Sancho to pass the night and even some days, atleast as many as the stores he carried might last, and so theyencamped between two rocks and among some cork trees; but fataldestiny, which, according to the opinion of those who have not thelight of the true faith, directs, arranges, and settles everythingin its own way, so ordered it that Gines de Pasamonte, the famousknave and thief who by the virtue and madness of Don Quixote hadbeen released from the chain, driven by fear of the HolyBrotherhood, which he had good reason to dread, resolved to takehiding in the mountains; and his fate and fear led him to the samespot to which Don Quixote and Sancho Panza had been led by theirs,just in time to recognise them and leave them to fall asleep: and asthe wicked are always ungrateful, and necessity leads to evildoing,and immediate advantage overcomes all considerations of the future,Gines, who was neither grateful nor well-principled, made up hismind to steal Sancho Panza's ass, not troubling himself aboutRocinante, as being a prize that was no good either to pledge or sell.While Sancho slept he stole his ass, and before day dawned he wasfar out of reach.

Aurora made her appearance bringing gladness to the earth butsadness to Sancho Panza, for he found that his Dapple was missing, andseeing himself bereft of him he began the saddest and most dolefullament in the world, so loud that Don Quixote awoke at hisexclamations and heard him saying, "O son of my bowels, born in myvery house, my children's plaything, my wife's joy, the envy of myneighbours, relief of my burdens, and lastly, half supporter ofmyself, for with the six-and-twenty maravedis thou didst earn me dailyI met half my charges."

Don Quixote, when he heard the lament and learned the cause,consoled Sancho with the best arguments he could, entreating him to bepatient, and promising to give him a letter of exchange ordering threeout of five ass-colts that he had at home to be given to him. Sanchotook comfort at this, dried his tears, suppressed his sobs, andreturned thanks for the kindness shown him by Don Quixote. He on hispart was rejoiced to the heart on entering the mountains, as theyseemed to him to be just the place for the adventures he was inquest of. They brought back to his memory the marvellous adventuresthat had befallen knights-errant in like solitudes and wilds, and hewent along reflecting on these things, so absorbed and carried away bythem that he had no thought for anything else. Nor had Sancho anyother care (now that he fancied he was travelling in a safe quarter)than to satisfy his appetite with such remains as were left of theclerical spoils, and so he marched behind his master laden with whatDapple used to carry, emptying the sack and packing his paunch, and solong as he could go that way, he would not have given a farthing tomeet with another adventure.

While so engaged he raised his eyes and saw that his master hadhalted, and was trying with the point of his pike to lift some bulkyobject that lay upon the ground, on which he hastened to join himand help him if it were needful, and reached him just as with thepoint of the pike he was raising a saddle-pad with a valise attachedto it, half or rather wholly rotten and torn; but so heavy were theythat Sancho had to help to take them up, and his master directed himto see what the valise contained. Sancho did so with great alacrity,and though the valise was secured by a chain and padlock, from itstorn and rotten condition he was able to see its contents, whichwere four shirts of fine holland, and other articles of linen noless curious than clean; and in a handkerchief he found a good lotof gold crowns, and as soon as he saw them he exclaimed:

"Blessed be all Heaven for sending us an adventure that is goodfor something!"

Searching further he found a little memorandum book richly bound;this Don Quixote asked of him, telling him to take the money andkeep it for himself. Sancho kissed his hands for the favour, andcleared the valise of its linen, which he stowed away in the provisionsack. Considering the whole matter, Don Quixote observed:

"It seems to me, Sancho- and it is impossible it can be otherwise-that some strayed traveller must have crossed this sierra and beenattacked and slain by footpads, who brought him to this remote spot tobury him."

"That cannot be," answered Sancho, "because if they had been robbersthey would not have left this money."

"Thou art right," said Don Quixote, "and I cannot guess or explainwhat this may mean; but stay; let us see if in this memorandum bookthere is anything written by which we may be able to trace out ordiscover what we want to know."

He opened it, and the first thing he found in it, written roughlybut in a very good hand, was a sonnet, and reading it aloud thatSancho might hear it, he found that it ran as follows:

SONNET

Or Love is lacking in intelligence,

Or to the height of cruelty attains,

Or else it is my doom to suffer pains

Beyond the measure due to my offence.

But if Love be a God, it follows thence

That he knows all, and certain it remains

No God loves cruelty; then who ordains

This penance that enthrals while it torments?

It were a falsehood, Chloe, thee to name;

Such evil with such goodness cannot live;

And against Heaven I dare not charge the blame,

I only know it is my fate to die.

To him who knows not whence his malady

A miracle alone a cure can give.

"There is nothing to be learned from that rhyme," said Sancho,"unless by that clue there's in it, one may draw out the ball of thewhole matter."

"What clue is there?" said Don Quixote.

"I thought your worship spoke of a clue in it," said Sancho.

"I only said Chloe," replied Don Quixote; "and that no doubt, is thename of the lady of whom the author of the sonnet complains; and,faith, he must be a tolerable poet, or I know little of the craft."

"Then your worship understands rhyming too?"

"And better than thou thinkest," replied Don Quixote, "as thou shaltsee when thou carriest a letter written in verse from beginning to endto my lady Dulcinea del Toboso, for I would have thee know, Sancho,that all or most of the knights-errant in days of yore were greattroubadours and great musicians, for both of these accomplishments, ormore properly speaking gifts, are the peculiar property oflovers-errant: true it is that the verses of the knights of old havemore spirit than neatness in them."

"Read more, your worship," said Sancho, "and you will find somethingthat will enlighten us."

Don Quixote turned the page and said, "This is prose and seems to bea letter."

"A correspondence letter, senor?"

"From the beginning it seems to be a love letter," replied DonQuixote.

"Then let your worship read it aloud," said Sancho, "for I am veryfond of love matters."

"With all my heart," said Don Quixote, and reading it aloud asSancho had requested him, he found it ran thus:

Thy false promise and my sure misforutne carry me to a placewhence the news of my death will reach thy ears before the words of mycomplaint. Ungrateful one, thou hast rejected me for one more wealthy,but not more worthy; but if virtue were esteemed wealth I shouldneither envy the fortunes of others nor weep for misfortunes of myown. What thy beauty raised up thy deeds have laid low; by it Ibelieved thee to be an angel, by them I know thou art a woman. Peacebe with thee who hast sent war to me, and Heaven grant that the deceitof thy husband be ever hidden from thee, so that thou repent not ofwhat thou hast done, and I reap not a revenge I would not have.

When he had finished the letter, Don Quixote said, "There is less tobe gathered from this than from the verses, except that he who wroteit is some rejected lover;" and turning over nearly all the pages ofthe book he found more verses and letters, some of which he couldread, while others he could not; but they were all made up ofcomplaints, laments, misgivings, desires and aversions, favours andrejections, some rapturous, some doleful. While Don Quixote examinedthe book, Sancho examined the valise, not leaving a corner in thewhole of it or in the pad that he did not search, peer into, andexplore, or seam that he did not rip, or tuft of wool that he didnot pick to pieces, lest anything should escape for want of care andpains; so keen was the covetousness excited in him by the discovery ofthe crowns, which amounted to near a hundred; and though he found nomore booty, he held the blanket flights, balsam vomits, stakebenedictions, carriers' fisticuffs, missing alforjas, stolen coat, andall the hunger, thirst, and weariness he had endured in the service ofhis good master, cheap at the price; as he considered himself morethan fully indemnified for all by the payment he received in thegift of the treasure-trove.

The Knight of the Rueful Countenance was still very anxious tofind out who the owner of the valise could be, conjecturing from thesonnet and letter, from the money in gold, and from the fineness ofthe shirts, that he must be some lover of distinction whom the scornand cruelty of his lady had driven to some desperate course; but as inthat uninhabited and rugged spot there was no one to be seen of whomhe could inquire, he saw nothing else for it but to push on, takingwhatever road Rocinante chose- which was where he could make hisway- firmly persuaded that among these wilds he could not fail to meetsome rare adventure. As he went along, then, occupied with thesethoughts, he perceived on the summit of a height that rose beforetheir eyes a man who went springing from rock to rock and from tussockto tussock with marvellous agility. As well as he could make out hewas unclad, with a thick black beard, long tangled hair, and bare legsand feet, his thighs were covered by breeches apparently of tawnyvelvet but so ragged that they showed his skin in several places. Hewas bareheaded, and notwithstanding the swiftness with which he passedas has been described, the Knight of the Rueful Countenance observedand noted all these trifles, and though he made the attempt, he wasunable to follow him, for it was not granted to the feebleness ofRocinante to make way over such rough ground, he being, moreover,slow-paced and sluggish by nature. Don Quixote at once came to theconclusion that this was the owner of the saddle-pad and of thevalise, and made up his mind to go in search of him, even though heshould have to wander a year in those mountains before he found him,and so he directed Sancho to take a short cut over one side of themountain, while he himself went by the other, and perhaps by thismeans they might light upon this man who had passed so quickly outof their sight.

"I could not do that," said Sancho, "for when I separate from yourworship fear at once lays hold of me, and assails me with all sorts ofpanics and fancies; and let what I now say be a notice that fromthis time forth I am not going to stir a finger's width from yourpresence."

"It shall be so," said he of the Rueful Countenance, "and I amvery glad that thou art willing to rely on my courage, which willnever fail thee, even though the soul in thy body fail thee; so comeon now behind me slowly as well as thou canst, and make lanterns ofthine eyes; let us make the circuit of this ridge; perhaps we shalllight upon this man that we saw, who no doubt is no other than theowner of what we found."

To which Sancho made answer, "Far better would it be not to look forhim, for, if we find him, and he happens to be the owner of the money,it is plain I must restore it; it would be better, therefore, thatwithout taking this needless trouble, I should keep possession of ituntil in some other less meddlesome and officious way the real ownermay be discovered; and perhaps that will be when I shall have spentit, and then the king will hold me harmless."