both the flocks, had not the dust obstructed their sight, "Look
yonder, Sancho!" cried Don Quixote; "that knight whom thou seest in
the gilded arms, bearing in his shield a crowned lion couchant at the
feet of a lady, is the valiant Laurcalco, lord of the silver bridge.
He in the armor powdered with flowers of gold, bearing three crows
argent in a field azure, is the formidable Micocolembo, the great duke
of Quiracia. That other, of a gigantic size, that marches on his
right, is the undaunted Brandabarbaran of Boliche, sovereign of the
three Arabias; he is arrayed in a serpent's skin, and carries instead
of a shield a huge gate, which they say belonged to the temple which
Samson pulled down at his death, when he revenged himself upon his
enemies. But cast thy eyes on this side, Sancho, and at the head of
the other army see the victorious Timonel of Carcaiona, prince of New
Biscay, whose armor is quartered azure, vert, or, and argent, and who
bears in his shield a cat or, in a field gules, with these four
letters, MIAU, for a motto, being the beginning of his mistress's
name, the beautiful Miaulina, daughter to Alfeñiquen, duke of Algarva.
That other monstrous load upon the back of yonder wild horse, with
arms as white as snow, and a shield without any device, is a
Frenchman, now created knight, called Pierre Papin, baron of Utrique;
he whom you see pricking that pied courser's flanks with his armed
heels is the mighty duke of Nervia, Espartafilardo of the Wood,
bearing for device on his shield an asparagus plant with this motto in
Castilian, _Rastrea mi suerte_ (Divine my fate)." And thus he went on,
naming a great number of others in both armies, to every one of whom
his fertile imagination assigned arms, colors, impresses, and mottoes,
as readily as if they had really been that moment in being before his
eyes. And then proceeding without the least hesitation, "That vast
body," said he, "that is just opposite to us is composed of several
nations. There you see those who drink the pleasant stream of the
famous Xanthus; there the mountaineers that till the Massilian fields;
those that sift the pure gold of Arabia Felix: those that inhabit the
renowned and delightful banks of Thermodon. Yonder, those who so many
ways sluice and drain the golden Pactolus for its precious sand; the
Numidians, unsteady and careless of their promises; the Persians,
excellent archers; the Medes and Parthians, who fight flying; the
Arabs, who have no fixed habitations; the Scythians, cruel and savage,
though fair-complexioned; the sooty Ethiopians, that bore their lips;
and a thousand other nations whose countenances I know, though I have
forgotten their names. On the other side come those whose country is
watered with the crystal streams of Betis, shaded with olive trees;
those who bathe their limbs in the rich flood of the golden Tagus;
those whose mansions are laved by the profitable stream of the divine
Genil; those who range the verdant Tartesian meadows; those who
indulge their luxurious temper in the delicious pastures of Xerez; the
wealthy inhabitants of La Mancha, crowned with golden ears of corn;
the ancient offspring of the Goths, cased in iron; those who wanton in
the lazy current of Pisuerga; those who feed their numerous flocks in
the ample plains where the Guadiana, so celebrated for its hidden
course, pursues its wandering race; those who shiver with extremity of
cold on the woody Pyrenean hills or on the hoary tops of the snowy
Apennines,--in a word, all that Europe includes within its spacious
bounds, half a world in an army." It is scarce to be imagined how many
countries he had run over, how many nations he enumerated,
distinguishing every one by what is peculiar to them, with an
incredible vivacity of mind, and that still in the puffy style of his
fabulous books.
Sancho listened to all this romantic muster-roll as mute as a fish,
with amazement; all that he could do was now and then to turn his head
on this side and the other side, to see if he could discern the
knights and giants whom his master named. But at length, not being
able to discover any, "Why," cried he, "you had as good tell me it
snows; the devil of any knight, giant, or man can I see, of all those
you talk of now; who knows but all this may be witchcraft and spirits,
like yesternight?"--"How," replied Don Quixote; "dost thou not hear
their horses neigh, their trumpets sound, and their drums beat?"--"Not
I," quoth Sancho, "I prick up my ears like a sow in the beans, and yet
I can hear nothing but the bleating of sheep." Sancho might justly say
so indeed, for by this time the two flocks were got very near them.
"Thy fears disturb thy senses," said Don Quixote, "and hinder thee
from hearing and seeing right; but it is no matter; withdraw to some
place of safety, since thou art so terrified; for I alone am
sufficient to give the victory to that side which I shall favor with
my assistance." With that he couched his lance, clapped spurs to
Rozinante, and rushed like a thunderbolt from the hillock into the
plain. Sancho bawled after him as loud as he could. "Hold, sir!" cried
Sancho; "for heaven's sake come back! What do you mean? as sure as I
am a sinner those you are going to maul are nothing but poor harmless
sheep. Come back, I say. Woe to him that begot me! Are you mad, sir?
there are no giants, no knights, no cats, no asparagus gardens, no
golden quarters nor what-d'-ye-call-thems. Does the devil possess you?
you are leaping over the hedge before you come at the stile. You are
taking the wrong sow by the ear. Oh, that I was ever born to see this
day!" But Don Quixote still riding on, deaf and lost to good advice,
out-roared his expostulating squire. "Courage, brave knights!" cried
he; "march up, fall on, all you who fight under the standard of the
valiant Pentapolin with the naked arm; follow me, and you shall see
how easily I will revenge him on that infidel Alifanfaron of
Taprobana."
So saying, he charged into the midst of the squadron of sheep and
commenced to spear them with his lance with as much gallantry and
resolution as if he were verily engaging with his mortal enemies.
The shepherds and drovers, seeing their sheep go to wreck, called out
to him; till finding fair means ineffectual, they unloosed their
slings, and began to ply him with stones as big as their fists. But
the champion, disdaining such a distant war, spite of their showers of
stones rushed among the routed sheep, trampling both the living and
the slain in a most terrible manner, impatient to meet the general of
the enemy, and end the war at once. "Where, where art thou?" cried he,
"proud, Alifanfaron? Appear! See here a single knight who seeks thee
everywhere, to try now, hand to hand, the boasted force of thy
strenuous arm, and deprive thee of life, as a due punishment for the
unjust war which thou hast audaciously waged with the valiant
Pentapolin." Just as he had said this, while the stones flew about his
ears, one unluckily hit upon his small ribs, and had like to have
buried two of the shortest deep in the middle of his body.
The knight thought himself slain, or at least desperately wounded; and
therefore calling to mind his precious balsam, and pulling out his
earthen jug, he clapped it to his mouth; but before he had swallowed a
sufficient dose, souse comes another of those bitter almonds, that
spoiled his draught, and hit him so pat upon the jug, hand, and teeth,
that it broke the first, maimed the second, and struck out three or
four of the last. These two blows were so violent that the boisterous
knight, falling from his horse, lay upon the ground as quiet as the
slain; so that the shepherds, fearing he was killed, got their flock
together with all speed, and carrying away their dead, which were no
less than seven sheep, they made what haste they could out of harm's
way, without looking any further into the matter.
All this while Sancho stood upon the hill, where he was mortified upon
the sight of this mad adventure. There he stamped and swore, and
banned his master to the bottomless pit; he tore his beard for
madness, and cursed the moment he first knew him; but seeing him at
last knocked down and settled, the shepherds being scampered, he
thought he might venture to come down, and found him in a very ill
plight, though not altogether senseless. "Ah! master," quoth he, "this
comes of not taking my counsel. Did I not tell you it was a flock of
sheep, and no army?"--"Friend Sancho," replied Don Quixote, "know, it
is an easy matter for necromancers to change the shapes of things as
they please: thus that malicious enchanter, who is my inveterate
enemy, to deprive me of the glory which he saw me ready to acquire,
while I was reaping a full harvest of laurels, transformed in a moment
the routed squadrons into sheep. If thou wilt not believe me, Sancho,
yet do one thing for my sake; do but take thy ass, and follow those
supposed sheep at a distance, and I dare engage thou shalt soon see
them resume their former shapes, and appear such as I described them."
THE CONQUEST OF MAMBRINO'S HELMET
_By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_
At the same time it began to rain, and Sancho would fain have taken
shelter in the fulling mills; but Don Quixote had conceived such an
antipathy against them for the shame they had put upon him that he
would by no means be prevailed with to go in; and turning to the right
hand he struck into a highway, where they had not gone far before he
discovered a horseman, who wore upon his head something that glittered
like gold. The knight had no sooner spied him, but, turning to his
squire, "Sancho," cried he, "I believe there is no proverb but what is
true; they are all so many sentences and maxims drawn from experience,
the universal mother of sciences; for instance, that saying that where
one door shuts, another opens: thus fortune, that last night deceived
us with the false prospect of an adventure, this morning offers us a
real one to make us amends; and such an adventure, Sancho, that if I
do not gloriously succeed in it, I shall have now no pretense to an
excuse, no darkness, no unknown sounds, to impute my disappointment
to: in short, in all probability yonder comes the man who wears on his
head Mambrino's helmet, and thou knowest the vow I have made."--"Good
sir," quoth Sancho, "mind what you say, and take heed what you do; for
I would willingly keep my carcass and the case of my understanding
from being pounded, mashed, and crushed with fulling hammers."--"The
block-head!" cried Don Quixote; "is there no difference between a
helmet and a fulling mill?"--"I don't know," saith Sancho, "but I am
sure, were I suffered to speak my mind now as I was wont, mayhap, I
would give you such main reasons, that yourself should see you are
wide of the matter."--"How can I be mistaken, thou eternal
misbeliever!" cried Don Quixote; "dost thou not see that knight that
comes riding up directly towards us upon a dapple-gray steed, with a
helmet of gold on his head."--"I see what I see," replied Sancho, "and
the devil of anything I can spy but a fellow on such another gray ass
as mine is, with something that glitters o' top of his head."--"I tell
thee, that is Mambrino's helmet," replied Don Quixote; "do thou stand
at a distance, and leave me to deal with him; thou shalt see, that
without trifling away so much as a moment in needless talk, I will
finish this adventure, and possess myself of the desired helmet."--"I
shall stand at a distance, you may be sure," quoth Sancho; "but God
grant that it be not the fulling mills again."--"I have warned you
already, fellow," said Don Quixote, "not so much as to name the
fulling mills; dare but once more to do it, nay, but to think on it,
and I vow to--I say no more, but I'll full your very soul." These
threats were more than sufficient to padlock Sancho's lips, for he had
no mind to have his master's vow fulfilled at the expense of his
bones.
Now the truth of the story was this: there were in that part of the
country two villages, one of which was so little that it had not so
much as a shop in it, nor any barber; so that the barber of the
greater village served also the smaller. And thus a person happening
to have occasion to be let blood, and another to be shaved, the barber
was going thither with his brass basin, which he had clapped upon his
head to keep his hat, that chanced to be a new one, from being spoiled
by the rain; and as the basin was new scoured, it made a glittering
show a great way off. As Sancho had well observed, he rode upon a gray
ass, which Don Quixote as easily took for a dapple-gray steed, as he
took the barber for a knight, and his brass basin for a golden helmet;
his distracted brain easily applying every object to his romantic
ideas. Therefore, when he saw the poor imaginary knight draw near, he
fixed his lance, or javelin, to his thigh, and without staying to hold
a parley with his adversary, flew at him as fiercely as Rozinante
would gallop, resolved to pierce him through and through; crying out
in the midst of his career, "Caitiff, wretch, defend thyself, or
immediately surrender that which is so justly my due."
The barber, who, as he peaceably went along, saw that terrible
apparition come thundering upon him at unawares, had no other way to
avoid being run through with his lance, but to throw himself off from
his ass to the ground; and then as hastily getting up, he took to his
heels, and ran over the fields swifter than the wind, leaving his ass
and his basin behind him. Don Quixote finding himself thus master of
the field and of the basin, "The miscreant," cried he, "who has left
this helmet, has shown himself as prudent as the beaver, who, finding
himself hotly pursued by the hunters, to save his life, tears and cuts
off with his teeth that for which his natural instinct tells him he is
followed."--Then he ordered Sancho to take up the helmet.--"On my
word," quoth Sancho, having taken it up, "it is a special basin, and
as well worth a piece of eight as a thief is worth a halter."
With that he gave it to his master, who presently clapped it on his
head, turning it every way to find out the beaver or vizor; and at
last seeing it had none, "Doubtless," said he, "the pagan for whom
this famous helmet was first made, had a head of a prodigious size;
but the worst is, that there is at least one-half of it wanting."
Sancho could not forbear smiling to hear his master call the barber's
basin a helmet, and, had not his fear dashed his mirth, he had
certainly laughed outright. "What does the fool grin at now?" cried
Don Quixote.--"I laugh," said he, "to think what a hugeous jolt-head
he must needs have had who was the owner of this same helmet, that
looks for all the world like a barber's basin."--"I fancy," said Don
Quixote, "this enchanted helmet has fallen by some strange accident
into the hands of some person who, not knowing the value of it, for
the lucre of a little money, finding it to be of pure gold, melted one
half, and of the other made this headpiece, which, as thou sayest, has
some resemblance to a barber's basin: but to me, who know the worth of
it, the metamorphosis signifies little; for as soon as ever I come to
some town where there is an armorer, I will have it altered so much
for the better, that then even the helmet which the god of smiths made
for the god of war shall not deserve to be compared with it. In the
meantime I'll wear it as it is; it is better than nothing, and will
serve at least to save part of my head from the violent encounter of a
stone."--"Ay, that it will," quoth Sancho, "so it is not hurled out of
a sling, as were those at the battle between the two armies, when they
hit you that confounded dowse o' the chops, that saluted your
worship's cheek-teeth, and broke the pot about your ears in which you
kept that blessed drench."--"True," cried Don Quixote, "there I lost
my precious balsam indeed; but I do not much repine at it, for thou
knowest I have the receipt in my memory."--"So have I, too," quoth
Sancho, "and shall have while I have breath to draw; but if ever I
make any of that stuff, or taste it again, may I give up the ghost
with it! Besides, I don't intend ever to do anything that may give
occasion for the use of it, for my fixed resolution is, with all my
five senses, to preserve myself from hurting and from being hurt by
anybody. As to being tossed in a blanket again, I have nothing to say
to that, for there is no remedy for accidents but patience, it seems;
so if it ever be my lot to be served so again, I'll even shrink up my
shoulders, hold my breath, and shut my eyes, and then happy be lucky,
let the blanket and fortune even toss on to the end of the chapter."
"Truly," said Don Quixote, "I am afraid thou art no good Christian,
Sancho, thou never forgettest injuries. Let me tell thee, it is the
part of noble and generous spirits to pass by trifles. Where art thou
lame? which of thy ribs is broken, or what part of thy skull is
bruised, that thou canst never think on that jest without malice? for,
after all, it was nothing but a jest, a harmless piece of pastime; had
I looked upon it otherwise, I had returned to that place before this
time, and had made more noble mischief in revenge of the abuse than
ever the incensed Grecians did at Troy, for the detention of their
Helen, that famed beauty of the ancient world; who, however, had she
lived in our age, or had my Dulcinea adorned hers, would have found
her charms outrivaled by my mistress's perfections;" and saying this,
he heaved up a deep sigh. "Well, then," quoth Sancho, "I will not rip
up old sores; let it go for a jest, since there is no revenging it in
earnest."
DON QUIXOTE'S BATTLE WITH THE GIANTS
_By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_
Sancho Panza came running out of Don Quixote's chamber in a terrible
fright, crying out, "Help, help, good people, help my master! He is
just now at it, tooth and nail, with that same giant, the Princess
Micomicona's foe; I never saw a more dreadful battle in my born days.
He has lent him such a sliver, that whip off went the giant's head, as
round as a turnip."--"You are mad, Sancho," said the curate,
interrupted in his reading; "is thy master such a devil of a hero, as
to fight a giant at two thousand leagues' distance?" Upon this, they
presently heard a noise and bustle in the chamber, and Don Quixote
bawling out, "Stay, villain, robber, stay; since I have thee here, thy
scimitar shall but little avail thee;" and with this, they heard him
strike with his sword, with all his force, against the walls.--"Good
folks," said Sancho, "my master does not want your hearkening; why do
not you run in and help him? though I believe there's no need now, for
sure the giant is by this time dead, and giving an account of his ill
life: for I saw his blood run all about the house, and his head
sailing in the middle on it; but such a head! it is bigger than any
wine skin in Spain."--"Death and hell!" cries the innkeeper, "I will
be cut like a cucumber, if this Don Quixote, or Don Devil, has not
been hacking my wine skins that stood filled at his bed's head, and
this coxcomb has taken the spilt liquor for blood." Then running with
the whole company into the room, they found the poor knight in the
most comical posture imaginable.
He was standing in his shirt, and he wore on his head a little red
greasy cast nightcap of the innkeeper's; he had wrapped one of the bed
blankets about his left arm for a shield; and wielded his drawn sword
in the right, laying about him pellmell; with now and then a start of
some military expression, as if he had been really engaged with some
giant. But the best jest of all, he was all this time fast asleep; for
the thoughts of the adventure he had undertaken had so wrought on his
imagination that his depraved fancy had in his sleep represented to
him the kingdom Micomicon, and the giant; and dreaming that he was
then fighting him, he assaulted the wine skins so desperately that he
set the whole chamber afloat with good wine. The innkeeper, enraged to
see the havoc, flew at Don Quixote with his fists; and had not
Cardenio and the curate taken him off, he had proved a giant indeed
against the knight. All this could not wake the poor knight, till the
barber, throwing a bucket of cold water on him, wakened him from his
sleep, though not from his dream.
Sancho ran up and down the room searching for the giant's head, till,
finding his labor fruitless, "Well, well," said he, "now I see plainly
that this house is haunted, for when I was here before, in this very
room was I beaten like any stockfish, but knew no more than the man in
the moon who struck me; and now the giant's head that I saw cut off
with these eyes, is vanished; and I am sure I saw the body spout blood
like a pump."--"What a prating and a nonsense about blood and a pump,
and I know not what," said the innkeeper; "I tell you, rascal, it is
my wine skins that are slashed, and my wine that runs about the floor
here, and I hope to see the soul of him that spilt it swimming in hell
for his pains."--"Well, well," said Sancho, "do not trouble me; I only
tell you, that I cannot find the giant's head, and my earldom is gone
after it, and so I am undone, like salt in water." And truly Sancho's
waking dream was worse than his master's when asleep. The innkeeper
was almost mad to see the foolish squire harp so on the same string
with his frantic master, and swore they should not come off now as
before; that their chivalry should be no satisfaction for his wine,
but that they should pay him sauce for the damage, and for the very
leathern patches which the wounded wine skins would want.
Don Quixote, in the meanwhile, believing he had finished his
adventure, and mistaking the curate, that held him by the arms, for
the Princess Micomicona, fell on his knees before him, and with a
respect due to a royal presence, "Now may your highness," said he,
"great and illustrious princess, live secure, free from any further
apprehensions from your conquered enemy; and now I am acquitted of my
engagement, since, by the assistance of Heaven and the influence of
her favor by whom I live and conquer, your adventure is so happily
achieved."--"Did not I tell you so, gentlefolks?" said Sancho; "who is
drunk or mad now? See if my master has not already put the giant in
pickle? Here are the bulls, and I am an earl." The whole company,
except the innkeeper, were like to split at the extravagances of
master and man. At last, the barber, Cardenio, and the curate having
with much ado got Don Quixote to bed, he presently fell asleep, being
heartily tired; and then they left him to comfort Sancho Panza for the
loss of the giant's head; but it was no easy matter to appease the
innkeeper, who was at his wit's end for the unexpected and sudden fate
of his wine skins.
DON QUIXOTE MEETS THE LIONS
_By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_
The history relates, that Sancho was chaffering with the shepherds for
some curds, when Don Quixote called to him to bring his helmet; and
finding that his master was in haste, he did not know what to do with
them, nor what to bring them in; yet loth to lose his purchase (for he
had already paid for them), he bethought himself at last of clapping
them into the helmet, where having them safe, he went to know his
master's pleasure. As soon as he came up to him, "Give me that helmet,
friend," said the knight, "for if I understand anything of adventures,
I descry one yonder that obliges me to arm."
The gentleman in green, hearing this, looked about to see what was the
matter, but could perceive nothing but a wagon, which made towards
them; and by the little flags about it, he judged it to be one of his
majesty's treasure vans, and so he told Don Quixote. But his head was
too much possessed with notions of adventures to give any credit to
what the gentleman said. "Sir," answered he, "forewarned, forearmed; a
man loses nothing by standing on his guard. I know by experience that
I have enemies visible and invisible, and I cannot tell when nor where
nor in what shape they may attack me." At the same time he snatched
the helmet out of Sancho's hands, before he could discharge it of the
curds, and clapped it on his head, without examining the contents. The
curds being thus squeezed, the whey began to run all about his face
and beard; which so frighted him that, calling to Sancho, "What's
this," cried he, "Sancho? What's the matter with me? Sure my skull is
growing soft, or my brains are melting, or else I sweat from head to
foot! But if I do, I am sure it is not for fear. This certainly must
be a dreadful adventure that is approaching. Give me something to wipe
me, if thou canst, for I am almost blinded with the torrent of sweat."