_Wherein is continued the adventure of the Knight of the Wood, with
the wise and witty dialogue between the two Squires._
Having retired a little apart, the Squire of the Wood said to Sancho,
"This is a toilsome life we squires to knights-errant lead; in good
truth, we eat our bread by the sweat of our brows, which is one of the
curses God laid upon our first parents." "You may say too, that we eat
it by the frost of our bodies," added Sancho; "for who has to bear
more cold, as well as heat, than your miserable squires to
knight-errantry? It would not be quite so bad if we could always get
something to eat, for good fare lessens care; but how often we must
pass whole days without breaking our fast--unless it be upon air!"
"All this may be endured," quoth he of the Wood, "with the hopes of
reward; for that knight-errant must be unlucky indeed who does not
speedily recompense his squire with at least a handsome government, or
some pretty earldom." "I," replied Sancho, "have already told my
master that I should be satisfied with the government of an island;
and he is so noble, and so generous, that he has promised it me a
thousand times." "And I," said he of the Wood, "should think myself
amply rewarded for all my services with a canonry; and I have my
master's word for it too." "Why then," quoth Sancho, "belike your
master is some knight of the church, and so can bestow rewards of that
kind on his squires; mine is only a layman. Some of his wise friends
advised him once to be an archbishop, but he would be nothing but an
emperor, and I trembled all the while lest he should take a liking to
the church; because, you must know, I am not gifted that way; to say
the truth, sir, though I look like a man, I am a very beast in such
matters." "Let me tell you, friend," quoth he of the Wood, "you are
quite in the wrong; for these island-governments are often more plague
than profit. Some are crabbed, some beggarly, some--in short, the best
of them are sure to bring more care than they are worth, and are
mostly too heavy for the shoulders that have to bear them. I suspect
it would be wiser in us to quit this thankless drudgery and stay at
home, where we may find easier work and better pastime; for he must be
a sorry squire who has not his nag, his brace of greyhounds, and an
angling-rod to enjoy himself with at home." "I am not without these
things," answered Sancho; "it is true I have no horse, but then I have
an ass which is worth twice as much as my master's steed. I would not
swap with him, though he should offer me four bushels of barley to
boot; no, that would not I, though you may take for a joke the price I
set upon my Dapple,--for dapple, sir, is the colour of my ass.
Greyhounds I cannot be in want of, as our town is overstocked with
them; besides, the rarest sporting is that we find at other people's
cost." "Really and truly, brother squire," answered he of the Wood, "I
have resolved with myself to quit the frolics of these knights-errant,
and get home again and look after my children; for I have three like
Indian pearls." "And I have two," quoth Sancho, "fit to be presented
to the Pope himself in person; especially my girl that I am breeding
up for a countess, if it please God, in spite of her mother. But I
beseech God to deliver me from this dangerous profession of
squireship, into which I have run a second time, drawn and tempted by
a purse of a hundred ducats, which I found one day among the
mountains. In truth, my fancy is continually setting before my eyes,
here, there, and everywhere, a bag full of gold pistoles, so that
methinks at every step I am laying my hand upon it, hugging it, and
carrying it home, buying lands, settling rents, and living like a
prince; and while this runs in my head, I can bear all the toil which
must be suffered with this foolish master of mine, who, to my
knowledge, is more of the madman than the knight."
"Indeed, friend," said the Squire of the Wood, "you verify the
proverb, which says, 'that covetousness bursts the bag.' Truly,
friend, now you talk of madmen, there is not a greater one in the
world than my master. The old saying may be applied to him, 'Other
folks' burdens break the ass's back;' for he gives up his own wits to
recover those of another; and is searching after that which, when
found, may chance to hit him in the teeth." "By the way, he is in
love, it seems?" said Sancho. "Yes," quoth he of the Wood, "with one
Casildea de Vandalia, one of the most whimsical dames in the world;
but that is not the foot he halts on at present; he has some other
crotchets in his pate, which we shall hear more of anon." "There is no
road so even but it has its stumbling places," replied Sancho; "in
other folks' houses they boil beans, but in mine whole kettles full.
Madness will have more followers than discretion; but if the common
saying is true, that there is some comfort in having partners in
grief, I may comfort myself with you, who serve as crack-brained a
master as my own." "Crack-brained, but valiant," answered he of the
Wood, "and more knavish than either." "Mine," answered Sancho, "has
nothing of the knave in him; so far from it, he has a soul as pure as
a pitcher, and would not harm a fly; he bears no malice, and a child
may persuade him it is night at noon-day; for which I love him as my
life, and cannot find in my heart to leave him, in spite of all his
pranks." "For all that, brother," quoth he of the Wood, "if the blind
lead the blind, both may fall into the ditch. We had better turn us
fairly about, and go back to our homes; for they who seek adventures
find them sometimes to their cost."
"But methinks," said he, "we have talked till our throats are dry;
but I have got, hanging at my saddle-bow, that which will refresh
them;" when, rising up, he quickly produced a large bottle of wine,
and a pasty half-a-yard long, without any exaggeration; for it was
made of so large a rabbit that Sancho thought verily it must contain a
whole goat, or at least a kid; and, after due examination, "How," said
he, "do you carry such things about with you?" "Why, what do you
think?" answered the other; "did you take me for some starveling
squire?--No, no, I have a better cupboard behind me on my horse than a
general carries with him upon a march." Sancho fell to, without
waiting for entreaties, and swallowed down huge mouthfuls in the dark.
"Your worship," said he, "is indeed a squire, trusty and loyal, round
and sound, magnificent and great withal, as this banquet proves (if it
did not come by enchantment); and not a poor wretch like myself, with
nothing in my wallet but a piece of cheese, and that so hard that you
may knock out a giant's brains with it; and four dozen of carobes to
bear it company, with as many filberts--thanks to my master's
stinginess, and to the fancy he has taken that knights-errant ought to
feed, like cattle, upon roots and wild herbs." "Troth, brother,"
replied he of the Wood, "I have no stomach for your wild pears, nor
sweet thistles, nor your mountain roots; let our masters have them,
with their fancies and their laws of chivalry, and let them eat what
they commend. I carry cold meats and this bottle at the pommel of my
saddle, happen what will; and such is my love and reverence for it,
that I kiss and hug it every moment." And as he spoke, he put it into
Sancho's hand, who grasped it, and, applying it straightway to his
mouth, continued gazing at the stars for a quarter of an hour; then,
having finished his draught, he let his head fall on one side, and,
fetching a deep sigh, said, "O the rogue! How excellent it is! But
tell me, by all you love best, is not this wine of Ciudad Real?" "Thou
art a rare taster," answered he of the Wood; "it is indeed of no other
growth, and has, besides, some years over its head." "Trust me for
that," quoth Sancho; "depend upon it, I always hit right, and can
guess to a hair. And this is all natural in me; let me but smell them,
and I will tell you the country, the kind, the flavour, the age,
strength, and all about it; for you must know I have had in my family,
by the father's side, two of the rarest tasters that were ever known
in La Mancha; and I will give you a proof of their skill. A certain
hogshead was given to each of them to taste, and their opinion asked
as to the condition, quality, goodness, or badness, of the wine. One
tried it with the tip of his tongue; the other only put it to his
nose. The first said the wine savoured of iron; the second said it had
rather a twang of goat's leather. The owner protested that the vessel
was clean, and the wine neat, so that it could not taste either of
iron or leather. Notwithstanding this, the two famous tasters stood
positively to what they had said. Time went on; the wine was sold
off, and, on cleaning the cask, a small key, hanging to a leathern
thong, was found at the bottom. Judge, then, sir, whether one of that
race may not be well entitled to give his opinion in these matters."
"That being the case," quoth he of the Wood, "we should leave off
seeking adventures; and, since we have a good loaf, let us not look
for cheesecakes, but make haste and get home to our own cots." "I will
serve my master till he reaches Saragosa," quoth Sancho, "then,
mayhap, we shall turn over a new leaf."
Thus the good squires went on talking and eating and drinking, until
it was full time that sleep should give their tongues a respite and
allay their thirst, for to quench it seemed to be impossible; and both
of them, still keeping hold of the almost empty bottle, fell fast
asleep; in which situation we will leave them at present, to relate
what passed between the two knights.