第 72 页

"God bless me!" said the niece, "that you should know so much,uncle- enough, if need be, to get up into a pulpit and go preach inthe streets -and yet that you should fall into a delusion so great anda folly so manifest as to try to make yourself out vigorous when youare old, strong when you are sickly, able to put straight what iscrooked when you yourself are bent by age, and, above all, a caballerowhen you are not one; for though gentlefolk may he so, poor men arenothing of the kind!"

"There is a great deal of truth in what you say, niece," returnedDon Quixote, "and I could tell you somewhat about birth that wouldastonish you; but, not to mix up things human and divine, I refrain.Look you, my dears, all the lineages in the world (attend to what I amsaying) can be reduced to four sorts, which are these: those thathad humble beginnings, and went on spreading and extendingthemselves until they attained surpassing greatness; those that hadgreat beginnings and maintained them, and still maintain and upholdthe greatness of their origin; those, again, that from a greatbeginning have ended in a point like a pyramid, having reduced andlessened their original greatness till it has come to nought, like thepoint of a pyramid, which, relatively to its base or foundation, isnothing; and then there are those- and it is they that are the mostnumerous- that have had neither an illustrious beginning nor aremarkable mid-course, and so will have an end without a name, like anordinary plebeian line. Of the first, those that had an humbleorigin and rose to the greatness they still preserve, the Ottomanhouse may serve as an example, which from an humble and lowlyshepherd, its founder, has reached the height at which we now seeit. For examples of the second sort of lineage, that began withgreatness and maintains it still without adding to it, there are themany princes who have inherited the dignity, and maintain themselvesin their inheritance, without increasing or diminishing it, keepingpeacefully within the limits of their states. Of those that begangreat and ended in a point, there are thousands of examples, for allthe Pharaohs and Ptolemies of Egypt, the Caesars of Rome, and thewhole herd (if I may such a word to them) of countless princes,monarchs, lords, Medes, Assyrians, Persians, Greeks, and barbarians,all these lineages and lordships have ended in a point and come tonothing, they themselves as well as their founders, for it would beimpossible now to find one of their descendants, and, even should wefind one, it would be in some lowly and humble condition. Ofplebeian lineages I have nothing to say, save that they merely serveto swell the number of those that live, without any eminence toentitle them to any fame or praise beyond this. From all I have said Iwould have you gather, my poor innocents, that great is theconfusion among lineages, and that only those are seen to be great andillustrious that show themselves so by the virtue, wealth, andgenerosity of their possessors. I have said virtue, wealth, andgenerosity, because a great man who is vicious will be a great exampleof vice, and a rich man who is not generous will be merely a miserlybeggar; for the possessor of wealth is not made happy by possessingit, but by spending it, and not by spending as he pleases, but byknowing how to spend it well. The poor gentleman has no way of showingthat he is a gentleman but by virtue, by being affable, well-bred,courteous, gentle-mannered, and kindly, not haughty, arrogant, orcensorious, but above all by being charitable; for by two maravedisgiven with a cheerful heart to the poor, he will show himself asgenerous as he who distributes alms with bell-ringing, and no one thatperceives him to be endowed with the virtues I have named, even thoughhe know him not, will fail to recognise and set him down as one ofgood blood; and it would be strange were it not so; praise has everbeen the reward of virtue, and those who are virtuous cannot fail toreceive commendation. There are two roads, my daughters, by whichmen may reach wealth and honours; one is that of letters, the otherthat of arms. I have more of arms than of letters in my composition,and, judging by my inclination to arms, was born under the influenceof the planet Mars. I am, therefore, in a measure constrained tofollow that road, and by it I must travel in spite of all the world,and it will be labour in vain for you to urge me to resist what heavenwills, fate ordains, reason requires, and, above all, my owninclination favours; for knowing as I do the countless toils thatare the accompaniments of knight-errantry, I know, too, the infiniteblessings that are attained by it; I know that the path of virtue isvery narrow, and the road of vice broad and spacious; I know theirends and goals are different, for the broad and easy road of vice endsin death, and the narrow and toilsome one of virtue in life, and nottransitory life, but in that which has no end; I know, as our greatCastilian poet says, that-

It is by rugged paths like these they go

That scale the heights of immortality,

Unreached by those that falter here below."

"Woe is me!" exclaimed the niece, "my lord is a poet, too! Heknows everything, and he can do everything; I will bet, if he chose toturn mason, he could make a house as easily as a cage."

"I can tell you, niece," replied Don Quixote, "if these chivalrousthoughts did not engage all my faculties, there would be nothingthat I could not do, nor any sort of knickknack that would not comefrom my hands, particularly cages and tooth-picks."

At this moment there came a knocking at the door, and when theyasked who was there, Sancho Panza made answer that it was he. Theinstant the housekeeper knew who it was, she ran to hide herself so asnot to see him; in such abhorrence did she hold him. The niece let himin, and his master Don Quixote came forward to receive him with openarms, and the pair shut themselves up in his room, where they hadanother conversation not inferior to the previous one.CHAPTER VII

OF WHAT PASSED BETWEEN DON QUIXOTE AND HIS SQUIRE, TOGETHER WITHOTHER VERY NOTABLE INCIDENTS

THE instant the housekeeper saw Sancho Panza shut himself in withher master, she guessed what they were about; and suspecting thatthe result of the consultation would be a resolve to undertake a thirdsally, she seized her mantle, and in deep anxiety and distress, ran tofind the bachelor Samson Carrasco, as she thought that, being awell-spoken man, and a new friend of her master's, he might be able topersuade him to give up any such crazy notion. She found him pacingthe patio of his house, and, perspiring and flurried, she fell athis feet the moment she saw him.

Carrasco, seeing how distressed and overcome she was, said to her,"What is this, mistress housekeeper? What has happened to you? Onewould think you heart-broken."

"Nothing, Senor Samson," said she, "only that my master isbreaking out, plainly breaking out."

"Whereabouts is he breaking out, senora?" asked Samson; "has anypart of his body burst?"

"He is only breaking out at the door of his madness," she replied;"I mean, dear senor bachelor, that he is going to break out again (andthis will be the third time) to hunt all over the world for what hecalls ventures, though I can't make out why he gives them that name.The first time he was brought back to us slung across the back of anass, and belaboured all over; and the second time he came in anox-cart, shut up in a cage, in which he persuaded himself he wasenchanted, and the poor creature was in such a state that the motherthat bore him would not have known him; lean, yellow, with his eyessunk deep in the cells of his skull; so that to bring him round again,ever so little, cost me more than six hundred eggs, as God knows,and all the world, and my hens too, that won't let me tell a lie."

"That I can well believe," replied the bachelor, "for they are sogood and so fat, and so well-bred, that they would not say one thingfor another, though they were to burst for it. In short then, mistresshousekeeper, that is all, and there is nothing the matter, except whatit is feared Don Quixote may do?"

"No, senor," said she.

"Well then," returned the bachelor, "don't be uneasy, but go home inpeace; get me ready something hot for breakfast, and while you areon the way say the prayer of Santa Apollonia, that is if you knowit; for I will come presently and you will see miracles."

"Woe is me," cried the housekeeper, "is it the prayer of SantaApollonia you would have me say? That would do if it was the toothachemy master had; but it is in the brains, what he has got."

"I know what I am saying, mistress housekeeper; go, and don't setyourself to argue with me, for you know I am a bachelor ofSalamanca, and one can't be more of a bachelor than that," repliedCarrasco; and with this the housekeeper retired, and the bachelor wentto look for the curate, and arrange with him what will be told inits proper place.

While Don Quixote and Sancho were shut up together, they had adiscussion which the history records with great precision andscrupulous exactness. Sancho said to his master, "Senor, I have educedmy wife to let me go with your worship wherever you choose to takeme."

"Induced, you should say, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "not educed."

"Once or twice, as well as I remember," replied Sancho, "I havebegged of your worship not to mend my words, if so be as youunderstand what I mean by them; and if you don't understand them tosay 'Sancho,' or 'devil,' 'I don't understand thee; and if I don'tmake my meaning plain, then you may correct me, for I am so focile-"

"I don't understand thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote at once; "forI know not what 'I am so focile' means."

"'So focile' means I am so much that way," replied Sancho.

"I understand thee still less now," said Don Quixote.

"Well, if you can't understand me," said Sancho, "I don't know howto put it; I know no more, God help me."

"Oh, now I have hit it," said Don Quixote; "thou wouldst say thouart so docile, tractable, and gentle that thou wilt take what I say tothee, and submit to what I teach thee."

"I would bet," said Sancho, "that from the very first you understoodme, and knew what I meant, but you wanted to put me out that you mighthear me make another couple of dozen blunders."

"May be so," replied Don Quixote; "but to come to the point, whatdoes Teresa say?"

"Teresa says," replied Sancho, "that I should make sure with yourworship, and 'let papers speak and beards be still,' for 'he who bindsdoes not wrangle,' since one 'take' is better than two 'I'll givethee's;' and I say a woman's advice is no great thing, and he whowon't take it is a fool."

"And so say I," said Don Quixote; "continue, Sancho my friend; goon; you talk pearls to-day."

"The fact is," continued Sancho, "that, as your worship knows betterthan I do, we are all of us liable to death, and to-day we are, andto-morrow we are not, and the lamb goes as soon as the sheep, andnobody can promise himself more hours of life in this world than Godmay be pleased to give him; for death is deaf, and when it comes toknock at our life's door, it is always urgent, and neither prayers,nor struggles, nor sceptres, nor mitres, can keep it back, as commontalk and report say, and as they tell us from the pulpits every day."

"All that is very true," said Don Quixote; "but I cannot make outwhat thou art driving at."

"What I am driving at," said Sancho, "is that your worship settlesome fixed wages for me, to be paid monthly while I am in yourservice, and that the same he paid me out of your estate; for Idon't care to stand on rewards which either come late, or ill, ornever at all; God help me with my own. In short, I would like toknow what I am to get, be it much or little; for the hen will lay onone egg, and many littles make a much, and so long as one gainssomething there is nothing lost. To he sure, if it should happen (whatI neither believe nor expect) that your worship were to give me thatisland you have promised me, I am not so ungrateful nor so graspingbut that I would be willing to have the revenue of such islandvalued and stopped out of my wages in due promotion."

"Sancho, my friend," replied Don Quixote, "sometimes proportionmay be as good as promotion."

"I see," said Sancho; "I'll bet I ought to have said proportion, andnot promotion; but it is no matter, as your worship has understoodme."

"And so well understood," returned Don Quixote, "that I have seeninto the depths of thy thoughts, and know the mark thou art shootingat with the countless shafts of thy proverbs. Look here, Sancho, Iwould readily fix thy wages if I had ever found any instance in thehistories of the knights-errant to show or indicate, by theslightest hint, what their squires used to get monthly or yearly;but I have read all or the best part of their histories, and Icannot remember reading of any knight-errant having assigned fixedwages to his squire; I only know that they all served on reward, andthat when they least expected it, if good luck attended their masters,they found themselves recompensed with an island or somethingequivalent to it, or at the least they were left with a title andlordship. If with these hopes and additional inducements you,Sancho, please to return to my service, well and good; but tosuppose that I am going to disturb or unhinge the ancient usage ofknight-errantry, is all nonsense. And so, my Sancho, get you back toyour house and explain my intentions to your Teresa, and if shelikes and you like to be on reward with me, bene quidem; if not, weremain friends; for if the pigeon-house does not lack food, it willnot lack pigeons; and bear in mind, my son, that a good hope is betterthan a bad holding, and a good grievance better than a badcompensation. I speak in this way, Sancho, to show you that I canshower down proverbs just as well as yourself; and in short, I mean tosay, and I do say, that if you don't like to come on reward with me,and run the same chance that I run, God be with you and make a saintof you; for I shall find plenty of squires more obedient andpainstaking, and not so thickheaded or talkative as you are."

When Sancho heard his master's firm, resolute language, a cloud cameover the sky with him and the wings of his heart drooped, for he hadmade sure that his master would not go without him for all thewealth of the world; and as he stood there dumbfoundered and moody,Samson Carrasco came in with the housekeeper and niece, who wereanxious to hear by what arguments he was about to dissuade theirmaster from going to seek adventures. The arch wag Samson cameforward, and embracing him as he had done before, said with a loudvoice, "O flower of knight-errantry! O shining light of arms! O honourand mirror of the Spanish nation! may God Almighty in his infinitepower grant that any person or persons, who would impede or hinder thythird sally, may find no way out of the labyrinth of their schemes,nor ever accomplish what they most desire!" And then, turning to thehousekeeper, he said, "Mistress housekeeper may just as well give oversaying the prayer of Santa Apollonia, for I know it is the positivedetermination of the spheres that Senor Don Quixote shall proceed toput into execution his new and lofty designs; and I should lay a heavyburden on my conscience did I not urge and persuade this knight not tokeep the might of his strong arm and the virtue of his valiantspirit any longer curbed and checked, for by his inactivity he isdefrauding the world of the redress of wrongs, of the protection oforphans, of the honour of virgins, of the aid of widows, and of thesupport of wives, and other matters of this kind appertaining,belonging, proper and peculiar to the order of knight-errantry. On,then, my lord Don Quixote, beautiful and brave, let your worship andhighness set out to-day rather than to-morrow; and if anything beneeded for the execution of your purpose, here am I ready in personand purse to supply the want; and were it requisite to attend yourmagnificence as squire, I should esteem it the happiest good fortune."