第 38 页

While they were so employed there happened to come by a youthpassing on his way, who stopping to examine the party at the spring,the next moment ran to Don Quixote and clasping him round the legs,began to weep freely, saying, "O, senor, do you not know me? Look atme well; I am that lad Andres that your worship released from theoak-tree where I was tied."

Don Quixote recognised him, and taking his hand he turned to thosepresent and said: "That your worships may see how important it is tohave knights-errant to redress the wrongs and injuries done bytyrannical and wicked men in this world, I may tell you that some daysago passing through a wood, I heard cries and piteous complaints as ofa person in pain and distress; I immediately hastened, impelled bymy bounden duty, to the quarter whence the plaintive accents seemed tome to proceed, and I found tied to an oak this lad who now standsbefore you, which in my heart I rejoice at, for his testimony will notpermit me to depart from the truth in any particular. He was, I say,tied to an oak, naked from the waist up, and a clown, whom Iafterwards found to be his master, was scarifying him by lashes withthe reins of his mare. As soon as I saw him I asked the reason of socruel a flagellation. The boor replied that he was flogging himbecause he was his servant and because of carelessness thatproceeded rather from dishonesty than stupidity; on which this boysaid, 'Senor, he flogs me only because I ask for my wages.' The mastermade I know not what speeches and explanations, which, though Ilistened to them, I did not accept. In short, I compelled the clown tounbind him, and to swear he would take him with him, and pay himreal by real, and perfumed into the bargain. Is not all this true,Andres my son? Didst thou not mark with what authority I commandedhim, and with what humility he promised to do all I enjoined,specified, and required of him? Answer without hesitation; tellthese gentlemen what took place, that they may see that it is as greatan advantage as I say to have knights-errant abroad."

"All that your worship has said is quite true," answered the lad;"but the end of the business turned out just the opposite of what yourworship supposes."

"How! the opposite?" said Don Quixote; "did not the clown pay theethen?"

"Not only did he not pay me," replied the lad, "but as soon asyour worship had passed out of the wood and we were alone, he tiedme up again to the same oak and gave me a fresh flogging, that left melike a flayed Saint Bartholomew; and every stroke he gave me hefollowed up with some jest or gibe about having made a fool of yourworship, and but for the pain I was suffering I should have laughed atthe things he said. In short he left me in such a condition that Ihave been until now in a hospital getting cured of the injurieswhich that rascally clown inflicted on me then; for all which yourworship is to blame; for if you had gone your own way and not comewhere there was no call for you, nor meddled in other people'saffairs, my master would have been content with giving me one or twodozen lashes, and would have then loosed me and paid me what he owedme; but when your worship abused him so out of measure, and gave himso many hard words, his anger was kindled; and as he could not revengehimself on you, as soon as he saw you had left him the storm burstupon me in such a way, that I feel as if I should never be a managain."

"The mischief," said Don Quixote, "lay in my going away; for Ishould not have gone until I had seen thee paid; because I ought tohave known well by long experience that there is no clown who willkeep his word if he finds it will not suit him to keep it; but thourememberest, Andres, that I swore if he did not pay thee I would goand seek him, and find him though he were to hide himself in thewhale's belly."

"That is true," said Andres; "but it was of no use."

"Thou shalt see now whether it is of use or not," said DonQuixote; and so saying, he got up hastily and bade Sancho bridleRocinante, who was browsing while they were eating. Dorothea asked himwhat he meant to do. He replied that he meant to go in search ofthis clown and chastise him for such iniquitous conduct, and seeAndres paid to the last maravedi, despite and in the teeth of allthe clowns in the world. To which she replied that he must rememberthat in accordance with his promise he could not engage in anyenterprise until he had concluded hers; and that as he knew thisbetter than anyone, he should restrain his ardour until his returnfrom her kingdom.

"That is true," said Don Quixote, "and Andres must have patienceuntil my return as you say, senora; but I once more swear andpromise not to stop until I have seen him avenged and paid."

"I have no faith in those oaths," said Andres; "I would ratherhave now something to help me to get to Seville than all therevenges in the world; if you have here anything to eat that I cantake with me, give it me, and God be with your worship and allknights-errant; and may their errands turn out as well forthemselves as they have for me."

Sancho took out from his store a piece of bread and another ofcheese, and giving them to the lad he said, "Here, take this,brother Andres, for we have all of us a share in your misfortune."

"Why, what share have you got?"

"This share of bread and cheese I am giving you," answered Sancho;"and God knows whether I shall feel the want of it myself or not;for I would have you know, friend, that we squires to knights-erranthave to bear a great deal of hunger and hard fortune, and even otherthings more easily felt than told."

Andres seized his bread and cheese, and seeing that nobody gavehim anything more, bent his head, and took hold of the road, as thesaying is. However, before leaving he said, "For the love of God,sir knight-errant, if you ever meet me again, though you may seethem cutting me to pieces, give me no aid or succour, but leave meto my misfortune, which will not be so great but that a greater willcome to me by being helped by your worship, on whom and all theknights-errant that have ever been born God send his curse."

Don Quixote was getting up to chastise him, but he took to his heelsat such a pace that no one attempted to follow him; and mightilychapfallen was Don Quixote at Andres' story, and the others had totake great care to restrain their laughter so as not to put himentirely out of countenance.

CHAPTER XXXII

WHICH TREATS OF WHAT BEFELL DON QUIXOTE'S PARTY AT THE INN

THEIR dainty repast being finished, they saddled at once, andwithout any adventure worth mentioning they reached next day theinn, the object of Sancho Panza's fear and dread; but though hewould have rather not entered it, there was no help for it. Thelandlady, the landlord, their daughter, and Maritornes, when theysaw Don Quixote and Sancho coming, went out to welcome them with signsof hearty satisfaction, which Don Quixote received with dignity andgravity, and bade them make up a better bed for him than the lasttime: to which the landlady replied that if he paid better than he didthe last time she would give him one fit for a prince. Don Quixotesaid he would, so they made up a tolerable one for him in the samegarret as before; and he lay down at once, being sorely shaken andin want of sleep.

No sooner was the door shut upon him than the landlady made at thebarber, and seizing him by the beard, said:

"By my faith you are not going to make a beard of my tail anylonger; you must give me back tail, for it is a shame the way thatthing of my husband's goes tossing about on the floor; I mean the combthat I used to stick in my good tail."

But for all she tugged at it the barber would not give it up untilthe licentiate told him to let her have it, as there was now nofurther occasion for that stratagem, because he might declarehimself and appear in his own character, and tell Don Quixote thathe had fled to this inn when those thieves the galley slaves robbedhim; and should he ask for the princess's squire, they could tellhim that she had sent him on before her to give notice to the peopleof her kingdom that she was coming, and bringing with her thedeliverer of them all. On this the barber cheerfully restored the tailto the landlady, and at the same time they returned all theaccessories they had borrowed to effect Don Quixote's deliverance. Allthe people of the inn were struck with astonishment at the beauty ofDorothea, and even at the comely figure of the shepherd Cardenio.The curate made them get ready such fare as there was in the inn,and the landlord, in hope of better payment, served them up atolerably good dinner. All this time Don Quixote was asleep, andthey thought it best not to waken him, as sleeping would now do himmore good than eating.

While at dinner, the company consisting of the landlord, his wife,their daughter, Maritornes, and all the travellers, they discussed thestrange craze of Don Quixote and the manner in which he had beenfound; and the landlady told them what had taken place between him andthe carrier; and then, looking round to see if Sancho was there,when she saw he was not, she gave them the whole story of hisblanketing, which they received with no little amusement. But on thecurate observing that it was the books of chivalry which Don Quixotehad read that had turned his brain, the landlord said:

"I cannot understand how that can be, for in truth to my mindthere is no better reading in the world, and I have here two orthree of them, with other writings that are the very life, not only ofmyself but of plenty more; for when it is harvest-time, the reapersflock here on holidays, and there is always one among them who canread and who takes up one of these books, and we gather round him,thirty or more of us, and stay listening to him with a delight thatmakes our grey hairs grow young again. At least I can say for myselfthat when I hear of what furious and terrible blows the knightsdeliver, I am seized with the longing to do the same, and I would liketo be hearing about them night and day."

"And I just as much," said the landlady, "because I never have aquiet moment in my house except when you are listening to some onereading; for then you are so taken up that for the time being youforget to scold."

"That is true," said Maritornes; "and, faith, I relish hearing thesethings greatly too, for they are very pretty; especially when theydescribe some lady or another in the arms of her knight under theorange trees, and the duenna who is keeping watch for them half deadwith envy and fright; all this I say is as good as honey."

"And you, what do you think, young lady?" said the curate turning tothe landlord's daughter.

"I don't know indeed, senor," said she; "I listen too, and to tellthe truth, though I do not understand it, I like hearing it; but it isnot the blows that my father likes that I like, but the laments theknights utter when they are separated from their ladies; and indeedthey sometimes make me weep with the pity I feel for them."

"Then you would console them if it was for you they wept, younglady?" said Dorothea.

"I don't know what I should do," said the girl; "I only know thatthere are some of those ladies so cruel that they call their knightstigers and lions and a thousand other foul names: and Jesus! I don'tknow what sort of folk they can be, so unfeeling and heartless, thatrather than bestow a glance upon a worthy man they leave him to die orgo mad. I don't know what is the good of such prudery; if it is forhonour's sake, why not marry them? That's all they want."

"Hush, child," said the landlady; "it seems to me thou knowest agreat deal about these things, and it is not fit for girls to knowor talk so much."

"As the gentleman asked me, I could not help answering him," saidthe girl.

"Well then," said the curate, "bring me these books, senor landlord,for I should like to see them."

"With all my heart," said he, and going into his own room he broughtout an old valise secured with a little chain, on opening which thecurate found in it three large books and some manuscripts written in avery good hand. The first that he opened he found to be "DonCirongilio of Thrace," and the second "Don Felixmarte of Hircania,"and the other the "History of the Great Captain Gonzalo Hernandez deCordova, with the Life of Diego Garcia de Paredes."

When the curate read the two first titles he looked over at thebarber and said, "We want my friend's housekeeper and niece here now."

"Nay," said the barber, "I can do just as well to carry them tothe yard or to the hearth, and there is a very good fire there."

"What! your worship would burn my books!" said the landlord.

"Only these two," said the curate, "Don Cirongilio, and Felixmarte."

"Are my books, then, heretics or phlegmaties that you want to burnthem?" said the landlord.

"Schismatics you mean, friend," said the barber, "not phlegmatics."

"That's it," said the landlord; "but if you want to burn any, let itbe that about the Great Captain and that Diego Garcia; for I wouldrather have a child of mine burnt than either of the others."

"Brother," said the curate, "those two books are made up of lies,and are full of folly and nonsense; but this of the Great Captain is atrue history, and contains the deeds of Gonzalo Hernandez ofCordova, who by his many and great achievements earned the title allover the world of the Great Captain, a famous and illustrious name,and deserved by him alone; and this Diego Garcia de Paredes was adistinguished knight of the city of Trujillo in Estremadura, a mostgallant soldier, and of such bodily strength that with one finger hestopped a mill-wheel in full motion; and posted with a two-handedsword at the foot of a bridge he kept the whole of an immense armyfrom passing over it, and achieved such other exploits that if,instead of his relating them himself with the modesty of a knightand of one writing his own history, some free and unbiassed writer hadrecorded them, they would have thrown into the shade all the deedsof the Hectors, Achilleses, and Rolands."

"Tell that to my father," said the landlord. "There's a thing tobe astonished at! Stopping a mill-wheel! By God your worship shouldread what I have read of Felixmarte of Hircania, how with one singlebackstroke he cleft five giants asunder through the middle as ifthey had been made of bean-pods like the little friars the childrenmake; and another time he attacked a very great and powerful army,in which there were more than a million six hundred thousand soldiers,all armed from head to foot, and he routed them all as if they hadbeen flocks of sheep. And then, what do you say to the good Cirongilioof Thrace, that was so stout and bold; as may be seen in the book,where it is related that as he was sailing along a river there came upout of the midst of the water against him a fiery serpent, and he,as soon as he saw it, flung himself upon it and got astride of itsscaly shoulders, and squeezed its throat with both hands with suchforce that the serpent, finding he was throttling it, had nothingfor it but to let itself sink to the bottom of the river, carryingwith it the knight who would not let go his hold; and when they gotdown there he found himself among palaces and gardens so pretty thatit was a wonder to see; and then the serpent changed itself into anold ancient man, who told him such things as were never heard. Holdyour peace, senor; for if you were to hear this you would go madwith delight. A couple of figs for your Great Captain and your DiegoGarcia!"