Down in a village of La Mancha, the name of which I have no desire to
recollect, there lived, not long ago, one of those gentlemen who usually
keep a lance upon a rack, an old buckler, a lean horse, and a coursing
grayhound. Soup, composed of somewhat more mutton than beef, the
fragments served up cold on most nights, lentils on Fridays, collops and
eggs on Saturdays, and a pigeon by way of addition on Sundays, consumed
three-fourths of his income; the remainder of it supplied him with a
cloak of fine cloth, velvet breeches, with slippers of the same for
holidays, and a suit of the best homespun, in which he adorned himself
on week-days. His family consisted of a housekeeper above forty, a niece
not quite twenty, and a lad who served him both in the field and at
home, who could saddle the horse or handle the pruning-hook. The age of
our gentleman bordered upon fifty years: he was of a strong
constitution, spare-bodied, of a meagre visage, a very early riser, and
a lover of the chase. Some pretend to say that his surname was Quixada
or Quesada, for on this point his historians differ; though, from very
probable conjectures, we may conclude that his name was Quixana. This
is, however, of little importance to our history; let it suffice that,
in relating it, we do not swerve a jot from the truth.
In fine, his judgment being completely obscured, he was seized with one
of the strangest fancies that ever entered the head of any madman; this
was, a belief that it behooved him, as well for the advancement of his
glory as the service of his country, to become a knight-errant, and
traverse the world, armed and mounted, in quest of adventures, and to
practice all that had been performed by knights-errant of whom he had
read; redressing every species of grievance, and exposing himself to
dangers, which, being surmounted, might secure to him eternal glory and
renown. The poor gentleman imagined himself at least crowned Emperor of
Trebisond, by the valor of his arm; and thus wrapped in these agreeable
delusions and borne away by the extraordinary pleasure he found in them,
he hastened to put his designs into execution.
The first thing he did was to scour up some rusty armor which had been
his great-grandfather's, and had lain many years neglected in a corner.
This he cleaned and adjusted as well as he could; but he found one grand
defect,--the helmet was incomplete, having only the morion. This
deficiency, however, he ingeniously supplied by making a kind of visor
of pasteboard, which, being fixed to the morion, gave the appearance of
an entire helmet. It is true, indeed, that, in order to prove its
strength, he drew his sword, and gave it two strokes, the first of which
instantly demolished the labor of a week; but not altogether approving
of the facility with which it was destroyed, and in order to secure
himself against a similar misfortune, he made another visor, which,
having fenced in the inside with small bars of iron, he felt assured of
its strength, and, without making any more experiments, held it to be a
most excellent helmet.
In the next place he visited his steed; and although this animal had
more blemishes than the horse of Gonela, which, "_tantum pellis et ossa
fuit_," yet, in his eyes, neither the Bucephalus of Alexander nor the
Cid's Babieca, could be compared with him. Four days was he deliberating
upon what name he should give him; for, as he said to himself, it would
be very improper that a horse so excellent, appertaining to a knight so
famous, should be without an appropriate name; he therefore endeavored
to find one that should express what he had been before he belonged to a
knight-errant, and also what he now was: nothing could, indeed, be more
reasonable than that, when the master changed his state, the horse
should likewise change his name and assume one pompous and
high-sounding, as became the new order he now professed. So, after
having devised, altered, lengthened, curtailed, rejected, and again
framed in his imagination a variety of names, he finally determined upon
Rozinante, a name in his opinion lofty, sonorous, and full of meaning;
importing that he had only been a rozin--a drudge horse--before his
present condition, and that now he was before all the rozins in the
world.
Having given his horse a name so much to his satisfaction, he resolved
to fix upon one for himself. This consideration employed him eight more
days, when at length he determined to call himself Don Quixote; whence
some of the historians of this most true history have concluded that his
name was certainly Quixada, and not Quesada, as others would have it.
Then recollecting that the valorous Amadis, not content with the simple
appellation of Amadis, added thereto the name of his kingdom and native
country, in order to render it famous, styling himself Amadis de Gaul;
so he, like a good knight, also added the name of his province, and
called himself Don Quixote de la Mancha; whereby, in his opinion, he
fully proclaimed his lineage and country, which, at the same time, he
honored by taking its name.
His armor being now furbished, his helmet made perfect, his horse and
himself provided with names, he found nothing wanting but a lady to be
in love with, as he said,--
"A knight-errant without a mistress was a tree without either fruit or
leaves, and a body without a soul!"
One morning before day, being one of the most sultry in the month of
July, he armed himself cap-a-pie, mounted Rozinante, placed the helmet
on his head, braced on his target, took his lance, and, through the
private gate of his back yard, issued forth into the open plain, in a
transport of joy to think he had met with no obstacles to the
commencement of his honorable enterprise. But scarce had he found
himself on the plain when he was assailed by a recollection so terrible
as almost to make him abandon the undertaking; for it just then occurred
to him that he was not yet dubbed a knight; therefore, in conformity to
the laws of chivalry, he neither could nor ought to enter the lists
against any of that order; and, if he had been actually dubbed he
should, as a new knight, have worn white armor, without any device on
his shield, until he had gained one by force of arms. These
considerations made him irresolute whether to proceed, but frenzy
prevailing over reason, he determined to get himself made a knight by
the first one he should meet, like many others of whom he had read. As
to white armor, he resolved, when he had an opportunity, to scour his
own, so that it should be whiter than ermine. Having now composed his
mind, he proceeded, taking whatever road his horse pleased; for therein,
he believed, consisted the true spirit of adventure. Everything that our
adventurer saw and conceived was, by his imagination, moulded to what he
had read; so in his eyes the inn appeared to be a castle, with its four
turrets, and pinnacles of shining silver, together with its drawbridge,
deep moat, and all the appurtenances with which such castles are
visually described. When he had advanced within a short distance of it,
he checked Rozinante, expecting some dwarf would mount the battlements,
to announce by sound of trumpet the arrival of a knight-errant at the
castle; but, finding them tardy, and Rozinante impatient for the
stable, he approached the inn-door, and there saw the two girls, who to
him appeared to be beautiful damsels or lovely dames enjoying themselves
before the gate of their castle.
It happened that, just at this time, a swineherd collecting his hogs (I
make no apology, for so they are called) from an adjoining stubblefield,
blew the horn which assembles them together, and instantly Don Quixote
was satisfied, for he imagined it was a dwarf who had given the signal
of his arrival. With extraordinary satisfaction, therefore, he went up
to the inn; upon which the ladies, being startled at the sight of a man
armed in that manner, with lance and buckler, were retreating into the
house; but Don Quixote, perceiving their alarm, raised his pasteboard
visor, thereby partly discovering his meagre, dusty visage, and with
gentle demeanor and placid voice, thus addressed them: "Fly not, ladies,
nor fear any discourtesy, for it would be wholly inconsistent with the
order of knighthood, which I profess, to offer insult to any person,
much less to virgins of that exalted rank which your appearance
indicates." The girls stared at him, and were endeavoring to find out
his face, which was almost concealed by the sorry visor; but hearing
themselves called virgins, they could not forbear laughing, and to such
a degree that Don Quixote was displeased, and said to them: "Modesty
well becomes beauty, and excessive laughter proceeding from slight cause
is folly."
This language, so unintelligible to the ladies, added to the uncouth
figure of our knight, increased their laughter; consequently he grew
more indignant, and would have proceeded further but for the timely
appearance of the innkeeper, a very corpulent and therefore a very
pacific man, who, upon seeing so ludicrous an object, armed, and with
accoutrements so ill-sorted as were the bridle, lance, buckler, and
corselet, felt disposed to join the damsels in demonstrations of mirth;
but, in truth, apprehending some danger from a form thus strongly
fortified, he resolved to behave with civility, and therefore said, "If,
Sir Knight, you are seeking for a lodging, you will here find, excepting
a bed (for there are none in this inn), everything in abundance." Don
Quixote, perceiving the humility of the governor of the fortress,--for
such to him appeared the innkeeper,--answered, "For me, Signor
Castellano, anything will suffice, since arms are my ornaments, warfare
my repose." The host thought he called him Castellano because he took
him for a sound Castilian, whereas he was an Andalusian of the coast of
St. Lucar, as great a thief as Cacus and not less mischievous than a
collegian or a page; and he replied, "If so, your worship's beds must be
hard rocks, and your sleep continual watching; and that being the case,
you may dismount with a certainty of finding here sufficient cause for
keeping awake the whole year, much more a single night." So saying, he
laid hold of Don Quixote's stirrup, who alighted with much difficulty
and pain, for he had fasted the whole of the day. He then desired the
host to take especial care of his steed, for it was the finest creature
ever fed; the innkeeper examined him, but thought him not so good by
half as his master had represented him. Having led the horse to the
stable he returned to receive the orders of his guest, whom the damsels,
being now reconciled to him, were disarming; they had taken off the back
and breast plates, but endeavored in vain to disengage the gorget, or
take off the counterfeit beaver, which he had fastened with green
ribbons in such a manner that they could not be untied, and he would
upon no account allow them to be cut; therefore he remained all that
night with his helmet on, the strangest and most ridiculous figure
imaginable.
While these light girls, whom he still conceived to be persons of
quality and ladies of the castle, were disarming him, he said to them,
with infinite grace: "Never before was knight so honored by ladies as
Don Quixote, after his departure from his native village! damsels
attended upon him; princesses took charge of his steed! O
Rosinante,--for that, ladies, is the name of my horse, and Don Quixote
de la Mancha my own; although it was not my intention to have discovered
myself until deeds performed in your service should have proclaimed me;
but impelled to make so just an application of that ancient romance of
Lanzarote to my present situation, I have thus prematurely disclosed my
name: yet the time shall come when your ladyships may command, and I
obey; when the valor of my arm shall make manifest the desire I have to
serve you." The girls, unaccustomed to such rhetorical flourishes, made
no reply, but asked whether he would please to eat anything. "I shall
willingly take some food," answered Don Quixote, "for I apprehend it
would be of much service to me." That day happened to be Friday, and
there was nothing in the house but some fish of that kind which in
Castile is called Abadexo; in Andalusia, Bacallao; in some parts,
Curadillo: and in others, Truchuela. They asked if his worship would
like some truchuela, for they had no other fish to offer him. "If there
be many troutlings," replied Don Quixote, "they will supply the place of
one trout; for it is the same to me whether I receive eight single rials
or one piece-of-eight. Moreover, these troutlings may be preferable, as
veal is better than beef, and kid superior to goat. Be that as it may,
let it come immediately, for the toil and weight of arms cannot be
sustained by the body unless the interior be supplied with aliments."
For the benefit of the cool air, they placed the table at the door of
the inn, and the landlord produced some of his ill-soaked and
worse-cooked bacallao, with bread as foul and black as the knight's
armor. But it was a spectacle highly risible to see him eat; for his
hands being engaged in holding his helmet on and raising the beaver, he
could not feed himself, therefore one of the ladies performed that
office for him; but to drink would have been utterly impossible had not
the innkeeper bored a reed, and placing one end into his mouth at the
other poured in the wine; and all this he patiently endured rather than
cut the lacings of his helmet.
THE PLEASANT METHOD DON QUIXOTE TOOK TO BE
DUBBED A KNIGHT.
It troubled him to reflect that he was not yet a knight, feeling
persuaded that he could not lawfully engage in any adventure until he
had been invested with the order of knighthood.
Agitated by this idea, he abruptly finished his scanty supper, called
the innkeeper, and, shutting himself up with him in the stable, he fell
on his knees before him and said, "Never will I arise from this place,
valorous knight, until your courtesy shall vouchsafe to grant a boon
which it is my intention to request,--a boon that will redound to your
glory and to the benefit of all mankind." The innkeeper, seeing his
guest at his feet and hearing such language, stood confounded and stared
at him without knowing what to do or say; he entreated him to rise, but
in vain, until he had promised to grant the boon he requested. "I
expected no less, signor, from your great magnificence," replied Don
Quixote; "know, therefore, that the boon I have demanded, and which your
liberality has conceded, is that on the morrow you will confer upon me
the honor of knighthood. This night I will watch my arms in the chapel
of your castle, in order that, in the morning, my earnest desire may be
fulfilled and I may with propriety traverse the four quarters of the
world in quest of adventures for the relief of the distressed,
conformable to the duties of chivalry and of knights-errant, who, like
myself, are devoted to such pursuits."
The host, who, as we have said, was a shrewd fellow, and had already
entertained some doubts respecting the wits of his guest, was now
confirmed in his suspicions; and to make sport for the night, determined
to follow his humor. He told him, therefore, that his desire was very
reasonable, and that such pursuits were natural and suitable to knights
so illustrious as he appeared to be, and as his gallant demeanor fully
testified; that he had himself in the days of his youth followed that
honorable profession, and travelled over various parts of the world in
search of adventures; failing not to visit the suburbs of Malaga, the
isles of Riaran, the compass of Seville, the market-place of Segovia,
the olive-field of Valencia, the rondilla of Grenada, the coast of St.
Lucar, the fountain of Cordova, the taverns of Toledo, and divers other
parts, where he had exercised the agility of his heels and the dexterity
of his hands; committing sundry wrongs, soliciting widows, seducing
damsels, cheating youths,--in short, making himself known to most of the
tribunals in Spain; and that, finally, he had retired to this castle,
where he lived upon his revenue and that of others, entertaining therein
all knights-errant of every quality and degree solely for the great
affection he bore them, and that they might share their fortune with him
in return for his good will. He further told him that in his castle
there was no chapel wherein he could watch his armor, for it had been
pulled down in order to be rebuilt; but that, in cases of necessity, he
knew it might be done wherever he pleased. Therefore, he might watch it
that night in a court of the castle, and the following morning, if it
pleased God, the requisite ceremonies should be performed, and he should
be dubbed so effectually that the world would not be able to produce a
more perfect knight. He then inquired if he had any money about him. Don
Quixote told him he had none, having never read in their histories that
knights-errant provided themselves with money. The innkeeper assured
him he was mistaken; for, admitting that it was not mentioned in their
history, the authors deeming it unnecessary to specify things so
obviously requisite as money and clean shirts, yet was it not therefore
to be inferred that they had none; but, on the contrary, he might
consider it as an established fact that all knights-errant, of whose
histories so many volumes are filled, carried their purses well provided
against accidents; that they were also supplied with shirts, and a small
casket of ointments to heal the wounds they might receive, for in plains
and deserts, where they fought and were wounded, no aid was near unless
they had some sage enchanter for their friend, who could give them
immediate assistance by conveying in cloud through the air some damsel
or dwarf, with a phial of water possessed of such virtue that, upon
tasting a single drop of it, they should instantly become as sound as if
they had received no injury. But when the knights of former times were
without such a friend, they always took care that their esquires should
be provided with money and such necessary articles as lint and salves;
and when they had no esquires--which very rarely happened--they carried
these things themselves upon the crupper of their horse, in wallets so
small as to be scarcely visible, that they might seem to be something of
more importance; for, except in such cases, the custom of carrying
wallets was not tolerated among knights-errant. He therefore advised,
though, as his godson (which he was soon to be), he might command him,
never henceforth to travel without money and the aforesaid provisions,
and he would find them serviceable when he least expected it. Don
Quixote promised to follow his advice with punctuality: and an order was
now given for performing the watch of the armor in a large yard
adjoining the inn. Don Quixote, having collected it together placed it
on a cistern which was close to a well; then, bracing on his target and
grasping his lance, with graceful demeanor he paced to and fro before
the pile, beginning his parade as soon as it was dark.
The innkeeper informed all who were in the inn of the frenzy of his
guest, the watching of his armor, and of the intended knighting.
The host repeated to him that there was no chapel in the castle, nor was
it by any means necessary for what remained to be done; that the stroke
of knighting consisted in blows on the neck and shoulders, according to
the ceremonial of the order, which might be effectually performed in the
middle of the field; that the duty of watching his armor he had now
completely fulfilled, for he had watched more than four hours, though
only two were required. All this Don Quixote believed, and said that he
was there ready to obey him, requesting him, at the same time, to
perform the deed as soon as possible; because, should he be assaulted
again when he found himself knighted, he was resolved not to leave one
person alive in the castle, excepting those whom, out of respect to him,
and at his particular request, he might be induced to spare. The
constable, thus warned and alarmed, immediately brought forth a book in
which he kept his account of the straw and oats he furnished to the
carriers, and attended by a boy, who carried an end of candle, and the
two damsels before mentioned, went towards Don Quixote, whom he
commanded to kneel down; he then began reading in his manual, as if it
were some devout prayer, in the course of which he raised his hand and
gave him a good blow on the neck, and, after that, a handsome stroke
over the shoulders, with his own sword, still muttering between his
teeth, as if in prayer. This being done, he commanded one of the ladies
to gird on his sword, an office she performed with much alacrity, as
well as discretion, no small portion of which was necessary to avoid
bursting with laughter at every part of the ceremony; but indeed the
prowess they had seen displayed by the new knight kept their mirth
within bounds.
At girding on the sword, the good lady said: "God grant you may be a
fortunate knight and successful in battle."
Don Quixote inquired her name, that he might thenceforward know to whom
he was indebted for the favor received, as it was his intention to
bestow upon her some share of the honor he should acquire by the valor
of his arm. She replied, with much humility, that her name was Tolosa,
and that she was the daughter of a cobbler at Toledo, who lived at the
stalls of Sanchobienaya; and that, wherever she was, she would serve and
honor him as her lord. Don Quixote, in reply, requested her, for his
sake, to do him the favor henceforth to add to her name the title of
don, and call herself Donna Tolosa, which she promised to do. The other
girl now buckled on his spur, and with her he held nearly the same
conference as with the lady of the sword; having inquired her name, she
told him it was Molinera, and that she was daughter to an honest miller
of Antiquera: he then requested her likewise to assume the don, and
style herself Donna Molinera, renewing his proffers of service and
thanks.
These never-till-then-seen ceremonies being thus speedily performed, Don
Quixote was impatient to find himself on horseback, in quest of
adventures. He therefore instantly saddled Rozinante, mounted him, and,
embracing his host, made his acknowledgments for the favor he had
conferred by knighting him, in terms so extraordinary, that it would be
in vain to attempt to repeat them. The host, in order to get rid of him
the sooner, replied, with no less flourish, but more brevity; and,
without making any demand for his lodging, wished him a good journey.
The tongue slow and the eyes quick.
Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open.
The brave man carves out his own fortune.
Very full of pain, yet soon as he was able to stir, he began to roll
himself on the ground, and to repeat, in what they affirm was said by
the wounded knight of the wood:--
"Where art thou, mistress of my heart,
Unconscious of thy lover's smart?
Ah me! thou know'st not my distress,
Or thou art false and pitiless."
"I know who I am," answered Don Quixote; "and I know, too, that I am not
only capable of being those I have mentioned, but all the twelve peers
of France, yea, and the nine worthies, since my exploits will far exceed
all that they have jointly or separately achieved."