OF THE TROUBLOUS END AND TERMINATION OF SANCHO PANZA'S GOVERNMENT
The seventh day of Sancho's government was approaching its end. The
Governor lay in his bed, resting after all the judgments and
proclamations he had made that day upon a fasting stomach. Suddenly he
rose in his bed, for he heard the most deafening noise, intermingled
with the ringing of churchbells. To this sound was added that of
trumpets and drums, and the combination made a din that frightened
Sancho almost out of his wits. He flew out of bed, put on a pair of
slippers, and rushed into the street, dressed in nothing but his night
shirt. He was startled to see the streets crowded with men, carrying
torches, and crying: "To arms, Senor Governor, to arms! The enemy is
here, and we are lost, unless you come to the rescue with your sword!"
Sancho was lost; he did not know what to do, for swordsmanship was not
among his accomplishments. And so he simply asked them whether the
enemy could not wait until he had a chance to summon his master Don
Quixote of La Mancha, who, he said, knew all about arms.
Just then one of the inhabitants came along, carrying two shields, and
without any ceremony he told Sancho in plain language that it was his
duty as their governor to lead them into battle. Then he covered
him--without giving him a chance to put on anything besides his
night-shirt--with the two shields, one in front and the other one
behind; pressing them together as tightly as he and another man could
manage, they laced them with rope, so that Sancho could neither move a
muscle, nor bend a leg. Then they put a lance in his hand and told him
to lead them into battle against the enemy, for now they were no
longer afraid of the outcome, they said.
"How am I to march, unlucky being that I am," asked Sancho, "when I
cannot stir my knee-caps for these boards that are bound so tightly to
my body! What you must do is to carry me in your arms, and lay me
across or set me upright in some postern, and I shall hold it either
with this lance or with my body."
When the men heard the Governor speak thus, one of them was bold enough
to suggest that he could not move because he was too frightened; and this
angered poor Sancho into a frantic attempt to take a step in the
direction of the invading army. But this step was a fatal one, for the
Governor fell in his undignified stiffness flat on his back with such a
crash that he thought he had broken every bone in his body.
The men now quickly extinguished their torches, and began to step on
his shield, slashing their swords over his head, shouting and yelling,
and making all the noise they could. Had Sancho not pulled in his head
like a tortoise in his shell, he might have fared ill. One man boldly
placed himself on Sancho's roof, calling in a mighty voice, now and
then filled with an agonized grunt, such directions as these: "Hold
the breach there! Shut the gate! Barricade those ladders! Block the
streets with feather-beds! Here with your stink-pots of pitch and
resin, and kettles of boiling oil!"
All these exclamations put fear in the already hard-pressed and
squeezed heart of Sancho Panza, who was wishing where he lay that he
had never seen the sight of an island. He was in such an agony that he
began to pray to the Lord in Heaven to have mercy on him and let him
die, or else let this terrible strife and warfare come to an end.
Heaven must have heard Sancho's prayer, for suddenly he heard cries
of: "Victory! Victory! The enemy retreats!" Then some one jerked him
by the arm, and told him to stand up and enjoy the victory; and
finally some of the bystanders took pity on him, and lifted him up
from his vertical position. But Sancho refused to enjoy any victory.
All he asked for, he said, was that some one wipe the perspiration
from his body, and give him some wine for his parched throat. When
they had fulfilled this desire of his, they carried him to his
chamber, were they put him to bed. Hardly had they got him to bed
before he fainted away, overcome with excitement and governments.
The attendants sprinkled some water in the Governor's face, and he
soon came back to life. The first thing he asked was what time it was.
They replied it was early morning. He rose without saying a word,
dressed himself in haste, and then went out to the stable, where they
found him hanging round his Dapple's neck, kissing and embracing him,
while tears were streaming down his face. Having swallowed the first
flood of tears, the late squire addressed his faithful donkey in the
tenderest and most heartrending terms, telling him that he should
have stuck by him all the time, and not let himself be carried away by
ambitions to become governor of islands.
Sancho then put the pack-saddle on Dapple's back, and mounted--a
process of much pain--and from his dear confederate's back he
addressed the majordomo and those of his staff who had followed him to
the stable. "Make way," he said, "and let me go back to my old
freedom; let me go look for my past life, and raise myself up from
this present death. I was not born to be a governor or to protect
islands or cities from the enemies that choose to attack them.
Ploughing and digging, vine-dressing and pruning, are more in my way
than defending provinces or kingdoms. Saint Peter is very well in
Rome: I mean, each of us is best following the trade he was born to. I
would rather have my fill of the simplest pot-luck than be subject to
the misery of a meddling doctor who kills me with hunger; and I would
rather lie in summer under the shade of an oak, and in winter wrap
myself in a double sheepskin jacket in freedom, than to go to bed
between Holland sheets and dress in sables under the restraint of a
government. God be with your Worships! Tell my lord, the Duke, that
naked was I born, naked I find myself, I neither lose nor gain: I mean
that without a farthing I came into this government, and without a
farthing I go out of it--very different from the way governors
commonly leave other islands. Stand aside and let me go. I have to
plaster myself, for I believe every one of my ribs is crushed, thanks
to the enemies that have been trampling over me to-night."
Here the doctor offered to give the retiring governor a draught that
would cure him of all pain. He also promised Sancho if he would stay
he would behave better in the future, and give him as much to eat as
he desired. But Sancho was not at a loss for an answer this time.
"You spoke late," said he. "I should as soon turn Turk as stay any
longer. Those jokes will not pass a second time. By the Lord, I should
as soon remain in this government, or take another one, even if it was
offered me between two plates, as fly to heaven without wings. I am of
the breed of Panzas, and they are every one of them obstinate, and if
they once say odds, odds it must be, no matter if it is evens, in
spite of all the world. Here in this stable I leave the ant's wings
that lifted me up into the air for the swifts and other birds to eat
them, and let us take to the level ground and our feet once more; and
if they are not shod in pinked shoes of cordovan, they shall not want
for rough sandals of hemp. Every ewe to her like and let no one
stretch his leg beyond the length of the sheet. And now let me pass,
for it is growing late with me."
After this meditation, strung with proverbs, the majordomo turned to
Sancho and said that before he departed it was necessary that he
render an account for the ten days that he had governed the island.
But this was not Sancho's idea, and he quickly replied that he would
seek out the Duke and give an accounting to him, for he was the only
one to whom he was responsible. He added that as he would come to him
naked, that would be the best proof that he had governed like an
angel.
So they all agreed to let him proceed, for they were certain that the
Duke would be delighted to see him. They offered him anything that he
might need for the journey; but all Sancho asked for was some barley
for his Dapple, and some bread and cheese for himself. Then they all
bade him godspeed and embraced him; and Sancho, with tears in his
eyes, took leave of them. The majordomo and the rest of Sancho's staff
could not help thinking that he had displayed more sense than most men
might have under the same circumstances; for when Sancho left his
government he had earned their admiration for many and good reasons.
CHAPTERS LIV-LV
OF WHAT BEFELL SANCHO ON THE ROAD; AND OTHER THINGS THAT
CANNOT BE SURPASSED
Sancho had almost reached the Duke's castle, when night suddenly fell
and it grew so dark that he considered it best to stop where he was
and remain there overnight. Accordingly he took Dapple off the road,
and they went in search for some comfortable place where they could
rest. Presently Sancho found himself among some old ruins, and as he
was stumbling along he suddenly felt himself and Dapple falling deep
into the earth. He thought it was going to be an endless journey, but
when he struck bottom he discovered that nothing had happened to him
or to his faithful donkey, for there he was, still mounted even.
Of course he was somewhat shaken by this sudden plunge into the lower
regions, and taken aback; but as soon as he realized that he was
unhurt he began to praise the Lord and to give thanks to him on behalf
of himself and Dapple, who had burst into lamentations upon finding
himself separated from meadow and green grass. Then Sancho began to
look about for a way out, but he searched in vain, and it became plain
to him that here he was buried alive. He thought of his master's
descent into the cave of Montesinos, and was envious of Don Quixote's
imagination which could conjure up so easily soft beds to sleep in and
good food to eat. He could already see himself as a skeleton, and he
shed a tear when he thought of having no one to close his or Dapple's
eyes, when they had breathed their last breath.
All that night they sat there in somber reflection on the strange
fates of man and beast; and when dawn came Sancho found that he was in
a cave that had no outlet but which seemed to extend for miles
underneath the ground. He crawled with Dapple from one cavern or
compartment to another one; one dungeon was dark, the next one had a
bit of flickering light; and as he proceeded he kept calling aloud,
"God Almighty, help me!" at every step he took, fearing that he would
be plunged still deeper into the insides of the earth, into still
darker abysses. And then he wished that it had been his master instead
of himself who had landed in this spot, for he was sure that Don
Quixote would have welcomed such an adventure.
It so happened that Don Quixote was riding along the countryside that
day on Rocinante, and suddenly his steed's hoof grazed against a hole
in the earth. Rocinante might have fallen into the hole had not Don
Quixote swiftly pulled in the reins and held him back. As the knight
was passing, and about to continue on his journey, he turned in his
seat to observe the spot well, and then he was startled by a cry that
seemed to come from the depths of the earth and found an outlet
through this pit. Still more startled he was, when he recognized the
voice of his own squire Sancho! These were the words he heard: "Ho,
above there! Is there any Christian that hears me, or any charitable
gentleman that will take pity on a sinner buried alive, or an
unfortunate, disgoverned governor?"
Of course it never entered our valiant knight's mind, devout Catholic
that he was, that it was the voice of any Sancho Panza in the flesh.
He thought that his devoted squire had suddenly met with death, and
that his soul was now in Purgatory, and that it was from there that
these sounds emanated. So he answered that he would do all in his
power to have Sancho released from his pains.
This brought forth an emphatic and tearful denial from below. Sancho
swore that he had never died in his life. As if to corroborate that
his master was not a liar, Dapple at this moment brayed most
tellingly, and Don Quixote believed everything that Dapple told him in
that short space of time, for Don Quixote knew Dapple's braying as
well as if he had been his father. The knight errant assured Sancho
that he would get him out of his prison in a very short time, though
he thought it best to return to the castle first and get some men to
help him in the task. Sancho begged his master to hurry, for he was
afraid unto death, and could not stand the thought of being buried
there much longer.
As soon as the Duke heard what had happened to his governor, he was
extremely surprised, for he had had no news from the island of
Barataria about Sancho's departure. He sent men with ropes and tackle,
and after much trouble they finally succeeded in hoisting Sancho and
his beloved donkey out of the cave.
Surrounded by a crowd of children and others, they arrived at the
castle, where the Duke was awaiting them; but Sancho would not present
himself before him until he had seen that Dapple was being taken good
care of in the stable. Then he went before the Duke, and as soon as
the Duke had greeted him, Sancho commenced a speech that seemed to
last forever, stuffed with proverbs galore. In it he related to the
Duke everything that happened during the time he was governor, ending
it thus: "I have come by the knowledge that I should not give anything
to be a governor, not to say of an island, but of the whole world; and
that point being settled, kissing your Worship's feet, and imitating
the game of the boys when they say, 'Leap thou, and give me one,' I
take a leap out of the government and pass into the service of my
master Don Quixote. For after all, though in it I eat my bread in fear
and trembling, at any rate I take my fill; and, for my part, so long
as I am full, it is alike to me whether it is with carrots or with
partridges."
When Sancho had finished his discourse Don Quixote was grateful, for
he was constantly worried that his squire might say something that
would cover both of them with discredit, and Sancho made no great
blunders in his speech this time.
The Duke and the Duchess both embraced Sancho with warmth, and he was
greatly touched when they told him that they would try to find him
another position, less responsible but more profitable, on their
estate; and they gave orders that he was to be well taken care of and
his wounds and bruises properly and carefully bandaged.
CHAPTERS LVI-LVII
WHICH TREATS OF HOW DON QUIXOTE AGAIN FELT THE CALLING OF
KNIGHT-ERRANTRY AND HOW HE TOOK LEAVE OF THE DUKE, AND OF
WHAT FOLLOWED WITH THE WITTY AND IMPUDENT ALTISIDORA, ONE
OF THE DUCHESS' DAMSELS
Again the feeling came over Don Quixote that he was wasting his life
while he was staying at the castle in luxury and ease as the Duke's
guest. Out yonder was the great, wide world in which adventures were
calling to him all the time. So it finally came about that after much
hesitation he requested of the Duke and his consort that they grant
him his release. They gave it to him, although they were sorry to see
him go, they said.
Early the following morning Sancho was soliloquizing in the courtyard
of the castle, when suddenly Don Quixote appeared, in full regalia,
ready to take to the road again for new adventures. The Duke and all
in the castle were observing the departure from the corridors.
Unobserved by Don Quixote, the majordomo gave Sancho a purse, in which
he counted no less than two hundred gold crowns.
When knight and squire had mounted, the fair Altisidora declaimed with
touching voice some verses of poetry which she had written in the
night, and in which she bewailed her cruel fate that had thrust her in
the path of the valorous Don Quixote. Each verse ended with a
denunciation of his coldness toward her, and a curse upon him and his
Dulcinea. Then the daring maiden had inserted lines in which she
accused the innocent knight of having taken possession of three
kerchiefs and a pair of garters belonging to her. Don Quixote blushed
with perplexity, but his squire came to the rescue and said that he
had the kerchiefs, but knew nothing about the garters. The Duke, who
was well initiated in the joke, now rose and announced that it was
beginning to seem like a serious matter; and if the knight had the
garters and did not wish to part with them, he, the Duke, would have
to defend the fair maiden's honor and challenge him to single combat.
Now Don Quixote was beside himself. Surely, he said, it would never
occur to him, who had enjoyed such unbounded, superlative hospitality
at the hands of one so illustrious as the Duke, to let such things
come to pass as to bear arms against him; and he swore again by
everything he could think of that he was innocent of what the maiden
had inferred. Here the damsel gave a little shriek, and announced in a
giggling voice that she had found the garters. Don Quixote was much
relieved, and so seemed the Duke (though in reality both he and the
Duchess were just about to burst from the pain that their own joke had
inflicted upon them).
Now the knight errant could depart without any smudge or stain on his
honor, and quickly and resolutely he gave Rocinante the spur, and his
steed gathered all the strength he had and turned around. Gallantly
saluting the Duke and the whole assembly with a sweep of his lance,
Don Quixote set off on the road to Saragossa, followed by the retired
governor, who sat on his Dapple's back as phlegmatically as if the two
were grown together.