第 69 页

"One of the things," here observed Don Quixote, "that ought togive most pleasure to a virtuous and eminent man is to find himself inhis lifetime in print and in type, familiar in people's mouths witha good name; I say with a good name, for if it be the opposite, thenthere is no death to be compared to it."

"If it goes by good name and fame," said the bachelor, "your worshipalone bears away the palm from all the knights-errant; for the Moor inhis own language, and the Christian in his, have taken care to setbefore us your gallantry, your high courage in encountering dangers,your fortitude in adversity, your patience under misfortunes as wellas wounds, the purity and continence of the platonic loves of yourworship and my lady Dona Dulcinea del Toboso-"

"I never heard my lady Dulcinea called Dona," observed Sanchohere; "nothing more than the lady Dulcinea del Toboso; so here alreadythe history is wrong."

"That is not an objection of any importance," replied Carrasco.

"Certainly not," said Don Quixote; "but tell me, senor bachelor,what deeds of mine are they that are made most of in this history?"

"On that point," replied the bachelor, "opinions differ, as tastesdo; some swear by the adventure of the windmills that your worshiptook to be Briareuses and giants; others by that of the fulling mills;one cries up the description of the two armies that afterwards tookthe appearance of two droves of sheep; another that of the dead bodyon its way to be buried at Segovia; a third says the liberation of thegalley slaves is the best of all, and a fourth that nothing comes upto the affair with the Benedictine giants, and the battle with thevaliant Biscayan."

"Tell me, senor bachelor," said Sancho at this point, "does theadventure with the Yanguesans come in, when our good Rocinante wenthankering after dainties?"

"The sage has left nothing in the ink-bottle," replied Samson; "hetells all and sets down everything, even to the capers that worthySancho cut in the blanket."

"I cut no capers in the blanket," returned Sancho; "in the air Idid, and more of them than I liked."

"There is no human history in the world, I suppose," said DonQuixote, "that has not its ups and downs, but more than others such asdeal with chivalry, for they can never be entirely made up ofprosperous adventures."

"For all that," replied the bachelor, "there are those who have readthe history who say they would have been glad if the author had leftout some of the countless cudgellings that were inflicted on Senor DonQuixote in various encounters."

"That's where the truth of the history comes in," said Sancho.

"At the same time they might fairly have passed them over insilence," observed Don Quixote; "for there is no need of recordingevents which do not change or affect the truth of a history, if theytend to bring the hero of it into contempt. AEneas was not in truthand earnest so pious as Virgil represents him, nor Ulysses so wiseas Homer describes him."

"That is true," said Samson; "but it is one thing to write as apoet, another to write as a historian; the poet may describe or singthings, not as they were, but as they ought to have been; but thehistorian has to write them down, not as they ought to have been,but as they were, without adding anything to the truth or takinganything from it."

"Well then," said Sancho, "if this senor Moor goes in for tellingthe truth, no doubt among my master's drubbings mine are to befound; for they never took the measure of his worship's shoulderswithout doing the same for my whole body; but I have no right towonder at that, for, as my master himself says, the members must sharethe pain of the head."

"You are a sly dog, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "i' faith, you haveno want of memory when you choose to remember."

"If I were to try to forget the thwacks they gave me," saidSancho, "my weals would not let me, for they are still fresh on myribs."

"Hush, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "and don't interrupt the bachelor,whom I entreat to go on and tell all that is said about me in thishistory."

"And about me," said Sancho, "for they say, too, that I am one ofthe principal presonages in it."

"Personages, not presonages, friend Sancho," said Samson.

"What! Another word-catcher!" said Sancho; "if that's to be theway we shall not make an end in a lifetime."

"May God shorten mine, Sancho," returned the bachelor, "if you arenot the second person in the history, and there are even some whowould rather hear you talk than the cleverest in the whole book;though there are some, too, who say you showed yourself over-credulousin believing there was any possibility in the government of thatisland offered you by Senor Don Quixote."

"There is still sunshine on the wall," said Don Quixote; "and whenSancho is somewhat more advanced in life, with the experience thatyears bring, he will be fitter and better qualified for being agovernor than he is at present."

"By God, master," said Sancho, "the island that I cannot govern withthe years I have, I'll not be able to govern with the years ofMethuselah; the difficulty is that the said island keeps itsdistance somewhere, I know not where; and not that there is any wantof head in me to govern it."

"Leave it to God, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for all will be andperhaps better than you think; no leaf on the tree stirs but byGod's will."

"That is true," said Samson; "and if it be God's will, there willnot be any want of a thousand islands, much less one, for Sancho togovern."

"I have seen governors in these parts," said Sancho, "that are notto be compared to my shoe-sole; and for all that they are called 'yourlordship' and served on silver."

"Those are not governors of islands," observed Samson, "but of othergovernments of an easier kind: those that govern islands must at leastknow grammar."

"I could manage the gram well enough," said Sancho; "but for the marI have neither leaning nor liking, for I don't know what it is; butleaving this matter of the government in God's hands, to send mewherever it may be most to his service, I may tell you, senor bachelorSamson Carrasco, it has pleased me beyond measure that the author ofthis history should have spoken of me in such a way that what issaid of me gives no offence; for, on the faith of a true squire, if hehad said anything about me that was at all unbecoming an oldChristian, such as I am, the deaf would have heard of it."

"That would be working miracles," said Samson.

"Miracles or no miracles," said Sancho, "let everyone mind how hespeaks or writes about people, and not set down at random the firstthing that comes into his head."

"One of the faults they find with this history," said thebachelor, "is that its author inserted in it a novel called 'TheIll-advised Curiosity;' not that it is bad or ill-told, but that it isout of place and has nothing to do with the history of his worshipSenor Don Quixote."

"I will bet the son of a dog has mixed the cabbages and thebaskets," said Sancho.

"Then, I say," said Don Quixote, "the author of my history was nosage, but some ignorant chatterer, who, in a haphazard and heedlessway, set about writing it, let it turn out as it might, just asOrbaneja, the painter of Ubeda, used to do, who, when they asked himwhat he was painting, answered, 'What it may turn out.' Sometimes hewould paint a cock in such a fashion, and so unlike, that he had towrite alongside of it in Gothic letters, 'This is a cock; and so itwill be with my history, which will require a commentary to make itintelligible."

"No fear of that," returned Samson, "for it is so plain that thereis nothing in it to puzzle over; the children turn its leaves, theyoung people read it, the grown men understand it, the old folk praiseit; in a word, it is so thumbed, and read, and got by heart bypeople of all sorts, that the instant they see any lean hack, theysay, 'There goes Rocinante.' And those that are most given toreading it are the pages, for there is not a lord's ante-chamber wherethere is not a 'Don Quixote' to be found; one takes it up if anotherlays it down; this one pounces upon it, and that begs for it. Inshort, the said history is the most delightful and least injuriousentertainment that has been hitherto seen, for there is not to befound in the whole of it even the semblance of an immodest word, ora thought that is other than Catholic."

"To write in any other way," said Don Quixote, "would not be towrite truth, but falsehood, and historians who have recourse tofalsehood ought to be burned, like those who coin false money; and Iknow not what could have led the author to have recourse to novels andirrelevant stories, when he had so much to write about in mine; nodoubt he must have gone by the proverb 'with straw or with hay,&c.,' for by merely setting forth my thoughts, my sighs, my tears,my lofty purposes, my enterprises, he might have made a volume aslarge, or larger than all the works of El Tostado would make up. Infact, the conclusion I arrive at, senor bachelor, is, that to writehistories, or books of any kind, there is need of great judgment and aripe understanding. To give expression to humour, and write in astrain of graceful pleasantry, is the gift of great geniuses. Thecleverest character in comedy is the clown, for he who would makepeople take him for a fool, must not be one. History is in a measure asacred thing, for it should be true, and where the truth is, there Godis; but notwithstanding this, there are some who write and fling booksbroadcast on the world as if they were fritters."

"There is no book so bad but it has something good in it," saidthe bachelor.

"No doubt of that," replied Don Quixote; "but it often happensthat those who have acquired and attained a well-deserved reputationby their writings, lose it entirely, or damage it in some degree, whenthey give them to the press."

"The reason of that," said Samson, "is, that as printed works areexamined leisurely, their faults are easily seen; and the greaterthe fame of the writer, the more closely are they scrutinised. Menfamous for their genius, great poets, illustrious historians, arealways, or most commonly, envied by those who take a particulardelight and pleasure in criticising the writings of others, withouthaving produced any of their own."

"That is no wonder," said Don Quixote; "for there are many divineswho are no good for the pulpit, but excellent in detecting the defectsor excesses of those who preach."

"All that is true, Senor Don Quixote," said Carrasco; "but I wishsuch fault-finders were more lenient and less exacting, and did notpay so much attention to the spots on the bright sun of the workthey grumble at; for if aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus, theyshould remember how long he remained awake to shed the light of hiswork with as little shade as possible; and perhaps it may be that whatthey find fault with may be moles, that sometimes heighten thebeauty of the face that bears them; and so I say very great is therisk to which he who prints a book exposes himself, for of allimpossibilities the greatest is to write one that will satisfy andplease all readers."

"That which treats of me must have pleased few," said Don Quixote.

"Quite the contrary," said the bachelor; "for, as stultoruminfinitum est numerus, innumerable are those who have relished thesaid history; but some have brought a charge against the author'smemory, inasmuch as he forgot to say who the thief was who stoleSancho's Dapple; for it is not stated there, but only to be inferredfrom what is set down, that he was stolen, and a little farther onwe see Sancho mounted on the same ass, without any reappearance of it.They say, too, that he forgot to state what Sancho did with thosehundred crowns that he found in the valise in the Sierra Morena, as henever alludes to them again, and there are many who would be glad toknow what he did with them, or what he spent them on, for it is one ofthe serious omissions of the work."

"Senor Samson, I am not in a humour now for going into accounts orexplanations," said Sancho; "for there's a sinking of the stomach comeover me, and unless I doctor it with a couple of sups of the old stuffit will put me on the thorn of Santa Lucia. I have it at home, andmy old woman is waiting for me; after dinner I'll come back, andwill answer you and all the world every question you may choose toask, as well about the loss of the ass as about the spending of thehundred crowns;" and without another word or waiting for a reply hemade off home.

Don Quixote begged and entreated the bachelor to stay and do penancewith him. The bachelor accepted the invitation and remained, acouple of young pigeons were added to the ordinary fare, at dinnerthey talked chivalry, Carrasco fell in with his host's humour, thebanquet came to an end, they took their afternoon sleep, Sanchoreturned, and their conversation was resumed.

CHAPTER IV

IN WHICH SANCHO PANZA GIVES A SATISFACTORY REPLY TO THE DOUBTS ANDQUESTIONS OF THE BACHELOR SAMSON CARRASCO, TOGETHER WITH OTHER MATTERSWORTH KNOWING AND TELLING

SANCHO came back to Don Quixote's house, and returning to the latesubject of conversation, he said, "As to what Senor Samson said,that he would like to know by whom, or how, or when my ass was stolen,I say in reply that the same night we went into the Sierra Morena,flying from the Holy Brotherhood after that unlucky adventure of thegalley slaves, and the other of the corpse that was going toSegovia, my master and I ensconced ourselves in a thicket, andthere, my master leaning on his lance, and I seated on my Dapple,battered and weary with the late frays we fell asleep as if it hadbeen on four feather mattresses; and I in particular slept so sound,that, whoever he was, he was able to come and prop me up on fourstakes, which he put under the four corners of the pack-saddle in sucha way that he left me mounted on it, and took away Dapple from underme without my feeling it."

"That is an easy matter," said Don Quixote, "and it is no newoccurrence, for the same thing happened to Sacripante at the siegeof Albracca; the famous thief, Brunello, by the same contrivance, tookhis horse from between his legs."