_Which treats of Don Quixote's first sally._
These preparations being made, he found his designs ripe for action,
and thought it now a crime to deny himself any longer to the injured
world that wanted such a deliverer; the more when he considered what
grievances he was to redress, what wrongs and injuries to remove, what
abuses to correct, and what duties to discharge. So one morning before
day, in the greatest heat of July, without acquainting any one with
his design, with all the secrecy imaginable, he armed himself
cap-a-pie, laced on his ill-contrived helmet, braced on his target,
grasped his lance, mounted Rozinante, and at the private door of his
back-yard sallied out into the fields, wonderfully pleased to see with
how much ease he had succeeded in the beginning of his enterprise. But
he had not gone far ere a terrible thought alarmed him; a thought that
had like to have made him renounce his great undertaking; for now it
came into his mind, that the honour of knighthood had not yet been
conferred upon him, and therefore, according to the laws of chivalry,
he neither could nor ought to appear in arms against any professed
knight; nay, he also considered, that though he were already knighted,
it would become him to wear white armour, and not to adorn his shield
with any device, until he had deserved one by some extraordinary
demonstration of his valour.
These thoughts staggered his resolution; but his frenzy prevailing
more than reason, he resolved to be dubbed a knight by the first he
should meet, after the example of several others, who, as the romances
informed him, had formerly done the like. As for the other difficulty
about wearing white armour, he proposed to overcome it, by scouring
his own at leisure until it should look whiter than ermine. And having
thus dismissed these scruples, he rode calmly on, leaving it to his
horse to go which way he pleased; firmly believing, that in this
consisted the very essence of adventures. And as he thus went on, "no
doubt," said he to himself, "that when the history of my famous
achievements shall be given to the world, the learned author will
begin it in this very manner, when he comes to give an account of this
my setting out: 'Scarce had the ruddy Phoebus begun to spread the
golden tresses of his lovely hair over the vast surface of the earthly
globe, and scarce had those feathered poets of the grove, the pretty
painted birds, tuned their little pipes, to sing their early welcomes
in soft melodious strains to the beautiful Aurora, displaying her rosy
graces to mortal eyes from the gates and balconies of the Manchegan
horizon,--when the renowned knight Don Quixote de la Mancha,
disdaining soft repose, forsook the voluptuous down, and mounting his
famous steed Rozinante, entered the ancient and celebrated plains of
Montiel.'" This was indeed the very road he took; and then proceeding,
"O happy age! O fortunate times!" cried he, "decreed to usher into the
world my famous achievements; achievements worthy to be engraven on
brass, carved on marble, and delineated in some masterpiece of
painting, as monuments of my glory, and examples for posterity! And
thou, venerable sage, wise enchanter, whatever be thy name; thou whom
fate has ordained to be the compiler of this rare history, forget not,
I beseech thee, my trusty Rozinante, the eternal companion of all my
adventures." After this, as if he had been really in love; "O Princess
Dulcinea," cried he, "lady of this captive heart, much sorrow and woe
you have doomed me to in banishing me thus, and imposing on me your
rigorous commands, never to appear before your beauteous face!
Remember, lady, that loyal heart your slave, who for your love submits
to so many miseries." To these extravagant conceits, he added a world
of others, all in imitation, and in the very style of those which the
reading of romances had furnished him with; and all this while he rode
so softly, and the sun's heat increased so fast, and was so violent,
that it would have been sufficient to have melted his brains, had he
had any left.
He travelled almost all that day without meeting any adventure worth
the trouble of relating, which put him into a kind of despair; for he
desired nothing more than to encounter immediately some person on whom
he might try the vigour of his arm.
Towards the evening, he and his horse being heartily tired and almost
famished, Don Quixote looked about him, in hopes to discover some
castle, or at least some shepherd's cottage, there to repose and
refresh himself; and at last near the road which he kept, he espied an
inn, a most welcome sight to his longing eyes. Hastening towards it
with all the speed he could, he got thither just at the close of the
evening. There stood by chance at the inn-door two young female
adventurers, who were going to Seville with some carriers that
happened to take up their lodging there that very evening; and as
whatever our knight-errant saw, thought, or imagined, was all of a
romantic cast, and appeared to him altogether after the manner of his
favourite books, he no sooner saw the inn but he fancied it to be a
castle fenced with four towers, and lofty pinnacles glittering with
silver, together with a deep moat, drawbridge, and all those other
appurtenances peculiar to such kind of places.
When he came near it, he stopped a while at a distance from the gate,
expecting that some dwarf would appear on the battlements, and sound
his trumpet to give notice of the arrival of a knight; but finding
that nobody came, and that Rozinante was for making the best of his
way to the stable, he advanced to the door, at which the innkeeper
immediately appeared. He was a man whose burden of fat inclined him to
peace and quietness, yet when he observed such a strange disguise of
human shape in his old armour and equipage, he could hardly forbear
laughter; but having the fear of such a warlike appearance before his
eyes, he resolved to give him good words, and therefore accosted him
civilly: "Sir Knight," said he, "if your worship be disposed to
alight, you will fail of nothing here but of a bed; as for all other
accommodations, you may be supplied to your mind." Don Quixote
observing the humility of the governor of the castle (for such the
innkeeper and inn seemed to him), "Senior Castellano," said he, "the
least thing in the world suffices me; for arms are the only things I
value, and combat is my bed of repose." "At this rate, Sir Knight, you
may safely alight, and I dare assure you, you can hardly miss being
kept awake all the year long in this house, much less one single
night." With that he went and held Don Quixote's stirrup, who having
ate nothing all that day, dismounted with no small trouble and
difficulty. He immediately desired the governor (that is, the
innkeeper) to have special care of his steed, assuring him that there
was not a better in the universe; upon which the innkeeper viewed him
narrowly, but could not think him to be half so good as Don Quixote
said. However, having set him up in the stable, he came back to the
knight to see what he wanted, and whether he would eat anything. "That
I will, with all my heart," cried Don Quixote, "whatever it be; for I
am of opinion nothing can come to me more seasonably." Now, it
happened to be Friday, and there was nothing to be had at the inn but
some pieces of fish, which they call _truchuela_; so they asked him
whether he could eat any of that truchuela, because they had no other
fish to give him. Don Quixote imagining they meant small trout, told
them, that provided there were more than one, it was the same thing to
him, they would serve him as well as a great one; "for," continued he,
"it is all one to me whether I am paid a piece of eight in one single
piece, or in eight small reals, which are worth as much. Besides, it
is probable these small trouts may be like veal, which is finer meat
than beef; or like the kid, which is better than the goat. In short,
let it be what it will, so it comes quickly; for the weight of armour
and the fatigue of travel are not to be supported without recruiting
food." Thereupon they laid the cloth at the inn-door for the benefit
of the fresh air, and the landlord brought him a piece of the salt
fish, but ill-watered and as ill-dressed; and as for the bread, it was
as mouldy and brown as the knight's armour.
While he was at supper, a pig-driver happened to sound his
cane-trumpet, or whistle of reeds, four or five times as he came near
the inn, which made Don Quixote the more positive that he was in a
famous castle, where he was entertained with music at supper, that
the country girls were great ladies, and the innkeeper the governor of
the castle, which made him applaud himself for his resolution, and his
setting out on such an account. The only thing that vexed him was,
that he was not yet dubbed a knight; for he fancied he could not
lawfully undertake any adventure till he had received the order of
knighthood.