第 74 页

"All that your worship has said so far," said Sancho, "I haveunderstood quite well; but still I would be glad if your worship woulddissolve a doubt for me, which has just this minute come into mymind."

"Solve, thou meanest, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "say on, in God'sname, and I will answer as well as I can."

"Tell me, senor," Sancho went on to say, "those Julys or Augusts,and all those venturous knights that you say are now dead- where arethey now?"

"The heathens," replied Don Quixote, "are, no doubt, in hell; theChristians, if they were good Christians, are either in purgatory orin heaven."

"Very good," said Sancho; "but now I want to know- the tombs wherethe bodies of those great lords are, have they silver lamps beforethem, or are the walls of their chapels ornamented with crutches,winding-sheets, tresses of hair, legs and eyes in wax? Or what arethey ornamented with?"

To which Don Quixote made answer: "The tombs of the heathens weregenerally sumptuous temples; the ashes of Julius Caesar's body wereplaced on the top of a stone pyramid of vast size, which they now callin Rome Saint Peter's needle. The emperor Hadrian had for a tomb acastle as large as a good-sized village, which they called the MolesAdriani, and is now the castle of St. Angelo in Rome. The queenArtemisia buried her husband Mausolus in a tomb which was reckoned oneof the seven wonders of the world; but none of these tombs, or ofthe many others of the heathens, were ornamented with winding-sheetsor any of those other offerings and tokens that show that they who areburied there are saints."

"That's the point I'm coming to," said Sancho; "and now tell me,which is the greater work, to bring a dead man to life or to kill agiant?"

"The answer is easy," replied Don Quixote; "it is a greater workto bring to life a dead man."

"Now I have got you," said Sancho; "in that case the fame of themwho bring the dead to life, who give sight to the blind, curecripples, restore health to the sick, and before whose tombs there arelamps burning, and whose chapels are filled with devout folk ontheir knees adoring their relics be a better fame in this life andin the other than that which all the heathen emperors andknights-errant that have ever been in the world have left or may leavebehind them?"

"That I grant, too," said Don Quixote.

"Then this fame, these favours, these privileges, or whatever youcall it," said Sancho, "belong to the bodies and relics of thesaints who, with the approbation and permission of our holy motherChurch, have lamps, tapers, winding-sheets, crutches, pictures, eyesand legs, by means of which they increase devotion and add to theirown Christian reputation. Kings carry the bodies or relics of saintson their shoulders, and kiss bits of their bones, and enrich and adorntheir oratories and favourite altars with them."

"What wouldst thou have me infer from all thou hast said, Sancho?"asked Don Quixote.

"My meaning is," said Sancho, "let us set about becoming saints, andwe shall obtain more quickly the fair fame we are striving after;for you know, senor, yesterday or the day before yesterday (for itis so lately one may say so) they canonised and beatified two littlebarefoot friars, and it is now reckoned the greatest good luck to kissor touch the iron chains with which they girt and tortured theirbodies, and they are held in greater veneration, so it is said, thanthe sword of Roland in the armoury of our lord the King, whom Godpreserve. So that, senor, it is better to be an humble little friar ofno matter what order, than a valiant knight-errant; with God acouple of dozen of penance lashings are of more avail than twothousand lance-thrusts, be they given to giants, or monsters, ordragons."

"All that is true," returned Don Quixote, "but we cannot all befriars, and many are the ways by which God takes his own to heaven;chivalry is a religion, there are sainted knights in glory."

"Yes," said Sancho, "but I have heard say that there are more friarsin heaven than knights-errant."

"That," said Don Quixote, "is because those in religious ordersare more numerous than knights."

"The errants are many," said Sancho.

"Many," replied Don Quixote, "but few they who deserve the name ofknights."

With these, and other discussions of the same sort, they passed thatnight and the following day, without anything worth mentionhappening to them, whereat Don Quixote was not a little dejected;but at length the next day, at daybreak, they descried the greatcity of El Toboso, at the sight of which Don Quixote's spirits roseand Sancho's fell, for he did not know Dulcinea's house, nor in allhis life had he ever seen her, any more than his master; so thatthey were both uneasy, the one to see her, the other at not havingseen her, and Sancho was at a loss to know what he was to do whenhis master sent him to El Toboso. In the end, Don Quixote made uphis mind to enter the city at nightfall, and they waited until thetime came among some oak trees that were near El Toboso; and whenthe moment they had agreed upon arrived, they made their entrance intothe city, where something happened them that may fairly be calledsomething.

CHAPTER IX

WHEREIN IS RELATED WHAT WILL BE SEEN THERE

'TWAS at the very midnight hour- more or less- when Don Quixoteand Sancho quitted the wood and entered El Toboso. The town was indeep silence, for all the inhabitants were asleep, and stretched onthe broad of their backs, as the saying is. The night was darkish,though Sancho would have been glad had it been quite dark, so as tofind in the darkness an excuse for his blundering. All over theplace nothing was to be heard except the barking of dogs, whichdeafened the ears of Don Quixote and troubled the heart of Sancho. Nowand then an ass brayed, pigs grunted, cats mewed, and the variousnoises they made seemed louder in the silence of the night; allwhich the enamoured knight took to be of evil omen; nevertheless hesaid to Sancho, "Sancho, my son, lead on to the palace of Dulcinea, itmay be that we shall find her awake."

"Body of the sun! what palace am I to lead to," said Sancho, "whenwhat I saw her highness in was only a very little house?"

"Most likely she had then withdrawn into some small apartment of herpalace," said Don Quixote, "to amuse herself with damsels, as greatladies and princesses are accustomed to do."

"Senor," said Sancho, "if your worship will have it in spite of methat the house of my lady Dulcinea is a palace, is this an hour, thinkyou, to find the door open; and will it be right for us to go knockingtill they hear us and open the door; making a disturbance andconfusion all through the household? Are we going, do you fancy, tothe house of our wenches, like gallants who come and knock and go inat any hour, however late it may be?"

"Let us first of all find out the palace for certain," replied DonQuixote, "and then I will tell thee, Sancho, what we had best do;but look, Sancho, for either I see badly, or that dark mass that onesees from here should be Dulcinea's palace."

"Then let your worship lead the way," said Sancho, "perhaps it maybe so; though I see it with my eyes and touch it with my hands, I'llbelieve it as much as I believe it is daylight now."

Don Quixote took the lead, and having gone a matter of two hundredpaces he came upon the mass that produced the shade, and found itwas a great tower, and then he perceived that the building in questionwas no palace, but the chief church of the town, and said he, "It'sthe church we have lit upon, Sancho."

"So I see," said Sancho, "and God grant we may not light upon ourgraves; it is no good sign to find oneself wandering in a graveyard atthis time of night; and that, after my telling your worship, if Idon't mistake, that the house of this lady will be in an alley withoutan outlet."

"The curse of God on thee for a blockhead!" said Don Quixote; "wherehast thou ever heard of castles and royal palaces being built inalleys without an outlet?"

"Senor," replied Sancho, "every country has a way of its own;perhaps here in El Toboso it is the way to build palaces and grandbuildings in alleys; so I entreat your worship to let me searchabout among these streets or alleys before me, and perhaps, in somecorner or other, I may stumble on this palace- and I wish I saw thedogs eating it for leading us such a dance."

"Speak respectfully of what belongs to my lady, Sancho," said DonQuixote; "let us keep the feast in peace, and not throw the rope afterthe bucket."

"I'll hold my tongue," said Sancho, "but how am I to take itpatiently when your worship wants me, with only once seeing thehouse of our mistress, to know always, and find it in the middle ofthe night, when your worship can't find it, who must have seen itthousands of times?"

"Thou wilt drive me to desperation, Sancho," said Don Quixote. "Lookhere, heretic, have I not told thee a thousand times that I have neveronce in my life seen the peerless Dulcinea or crossed the threshold ofher palace, and that I am enamoured solely by hearsay and by the greatreputation she bears for beauty and discretion?"

"I hear it now," returned Sancho; "and I may tell you that if youhave not seen her, no more have I."

"That cannot be," said Don Quixote, "for, at any rate, thousaidst, on bringing back the answer to the letter I sent by thee, thatthou sawest her sifting wheat."

"Don't mind that, senor," said Sancho; "I must tell you that myseeing her and the answer I brought you back were by hearsay too,for I can no more tell who the lady Dulcinea is than I can hit thesky."

"Sancho, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "there are times for jests andtimes when jests are out of place; if I tell thee that I haveneither seen nor spoken to the lady of my heart, it is no reason whythou shouldst say thou hast not spoken to her or seen her, when thecontrary is the case, as thou well knowest."

While the two were engaged in this conversation, they perceived someone with a pair of mules approaching the spot where they stood, andfrom the noise the plough made, as it dragged along the ground, theyguessed him to be some labourer who had got up before daybreak to goto his work, and so it proved to be. He came along singing theballad that says-

Ill did ye fare, ye men of France,

In Roncesvalles chase-

"May I die, Sancho," said Don Quixote, when he heard him, "if anygood will come to us tonight! Dost thou not hear what that clown issinging?"

"I do," said Sancho, "but what has Roncesvalles chase to do withwhat we have in hand? He might just as well be singing the ballad ofCalainos, for any good or ill that can come to us in our business."

By this time the labourer had come up, and Don Quixote asked him,"Can you tell me, worthy friend, and God speed you, whereabouts hereis the palace of the peerless princess Dona Dulcinea del Toboso?"

"Senor," replied the lad, "I am a stranger, and I have been only afew days in the town, doing farm work for a rich farmer. In that houseopposite there live the curate of the village and the sacristan, andboth or either of them will be able to give your worship someaccount of this lady princess, for they have a list of all thepeople of El Toboso; though it is my belief there is not a princessliving in the whole of it; many ladies there are, of quality, and inher own house each of them may be a princess."

"Well, then, she I am inquiring for will be one of these, myfriend," said Don Quixote.

"May be so," replied the lad; "God be with you, for here comes thedaylight;" and without waiting for any more of his questions, hewhipped on his mules.

Sancho, seeing his master downcast and somewhat dissatisfied, saidto him, "Senor, daylight will be here before long, and it will notdo for us to let the sun find us in the street; it will be betterfor us to quit the city, and for your worship to hide in some forestin the neighbourhood, and I will come back in the daytime, and I won'tleave a nook or corner of the whole village that I won't search forthe house, castle, or palace, of my lady, and it will be hard luck forme if I don't find it; and as soon as I have found it I will speakto her grace, and tell her where and how your worship is waiting forher to arrange some plan for you to see her without any damage toher honour and reputation."

"Sancho," said Don Quixote, "thou hast delivered a thousandsentences condensed in the compass of a few words; I thank thee forthe advice thou hast given me, and take it most gladly. Come, myson, let us go look for some place where I may hide, while thou dostreturn, as thou sayest, to seek, and speak with my lady, from whosediscretion and courtesy I look for favours more than miraculous."

Sancho was in a fever to get his master out of the town, lest heshould discover the falsehood of the reply he had brought to him inthe Sierra Morena on behalf of Dulcinea; so he hastened theirdeparture, which they took at once, and two miles out of the villagethey found a forest or thicket wherein Don Quixote ensconcedhimself, while Sancho returned to the city to speak to Dulcinea, inwhich embassy things befell him which demand fresh attention and a newchapter.

CHAPTER X

WHEREIN IS RELATED THE CRAFTY DEVICE SANCHO ADOPTED TO ENCHANT THELADY DULCINEA, AND OTHER INCIDENTS AS LUDICROUS AS THEY ARE TRUE

WHEN the author of this great history comes to relate what is setdown in this chapter he says he would have preferred to pass it overin silence, fearing it would not he believed, because here DonQuixote's madness reaches the confines of the greatest that can beconceived, and even goes a couple of bowshots beyond the greatest. Butafter all, though still under the same fear and apprehension, he hasrecorded it without adding to the story or leaving out a particle ofthe truth, and entirely disregarding the charges of falsehood thatmight be brought against him; and he was right, for the truth mayrun fine but will not break, and always rises above falsehood as oilabove water; and so, going on with his story, he says that as soonas Don Quixote had ensconced himself in the forest, oak grove, or woodnear El Toboso, he bade Sancho return to the city, and not come intohis presence again without having first spoken on his behalf to hislady, and begged of her that it might be her good pleasure to permitherself to be seen by her enslaved knight, and deign to bestow herblessing upon him, so that he might thereby hope for a happy issuein all his encounters and difficult enterprises. Sancho undertook toexecute the task according to the instructions, and to bring back ananswer as good as the one he brought back before.