OF WHAT HAPPENED TO DON QUIXOTE ON ENTERING BARCELONA,
TOGETHER WITH OTHER MATTERS THAT PARTAKE OF THE TRUE RATHER
THAN THE INGENIOUS
Don Quixote remained with Roque for three days, and they were hectic
days for our knight. Roque always slept apart from his men, for the
viceroy of Barcelona had placed a great price on his head, and Roque
was in constant fear that some one in his band would be tempted to
deliver him up. On the fourth day he and Don Quixote, accompanied by
Sancho and six of the band, made their way toward Barcelona; and on
the night of St. John's Eve they reached the city. There Roque took
farewell of the knight and his squire, and returned to his haunts in
the woods.
Throughout the night Don Quixote-kept guard over the city; and there
he was still sitting on Rocinante when dawn appeared on the horizon,
and Don Quixote and Sancho Panza for the first time in their lives
beheld the sea. It seemed to them it was ever so much greater than any
of the lakes they had seen in La Mancha. As the sun rose it was
suddenly greeted with the ringing of bells, the din of drums, the
sound of clarions, and the trampling and clatter of feet on the
streets; and from the galleys along the beach a mass of streamers in
varied colors waved its welcome, to the music and the noise of bugles,
clarions and trumpets from shipboard. Then cannons on ship and shore
began to thunder, and a constant fire was kept up from the walls and
fortress of the city. It was a noise and a spectacle that might have
over-awed any one, even a less simple-minded person than Sancho, who
stared open-mouthed at the wonders he beheld. He gasped when he saw
the galleys rowed about by their oarsmen on the water, and he told his
master he had never seen so many feet in his life. A troop of horsemen
in extravagant liveries rode past them, where they were standing, and
suddenly Don Quixote was startled by hearing some one call out in a
loud voice: "Welcome to our city, mirror, beacon, star and cynosure of
all knight-errantry in its widest extent! Welcome, I say, valiant Don
Quixote of La Mancha! Not the false, the fictitious, the apocryphal
one, but the true, the legitimate, the real one that Cid Hamet
Benengeli, flower of historians, has described to us!"
Don Quixote felt flattered by the attention he suddenly attracted, for
all eyes had turned to gaze upon his lean and queer person; although
it may be said here, in confidence, that the man who had recognized
the hero was no other than the one to whom the rogue Roque had
written. The cavalier divulged his identity to Don Quixote, and begged
him politely to accept his services while in Barcelona; and Don
Quixote replied with as much courtesy that he would follow him
wherever he pleased and be entirely at his disposal. Then the
horsemen closed in around him and they set out for the center of the
city, to the music of a gay tune played by the clarions and drums.
The Devil, however, was not asleep. He put temptation into the hearts
of some street urchins, who stole their way into the close proximity
of Rocinante's and Dapple's hindquarters, and there deposited a bunch
of furze under their tails, with the fatal result that their riders
were flung headlong into the crowd. Our proud hero, covered with dust
and shame, pulled himself together and went to pick the flowers from
the tail of his hack, while Sancho extracted the cause of Dapple's
capers from his own mount. Then they mounted again, the music
continued to play, and soon they found themselves at a large and
impressive house, which they learned was occupied by the cavalier, who
was a friend of Roque's.