_Wherein is shewn Don Quixote's ill success in the braying adventure,
which did not end so happily as he desired and expected._
After Don Quixote had left the inn, he resolved to take a sight of the
river Ebro, and the country about it, before he went to Saragosa,
since he was not straitened for time; but might do that, and yet
arrive soon enough to make one at the jousts and tournaments in that
city. Two days he travelled without meeting with any thing worth his
notice or the reader's; when on the third, as he was riding up a hill,
he heard a great noise of drums, trumpets, and guns. At first he
thought that some regiment of soldiers was on its march that way,
which made him spur up Rozinante to the brow of the hill, that he
might see them pass by; and then he saw in a bottom above two hundred
men, as near as he could guess, armed with various weapons, as lances,
cross-bows, partisans, halberts, pikes, some few firelocks, and a
great many targets. Thereupon he descended into the vale, and made his
approaches towards the battalion so near as to be able to distinguish
their banners and observe their devices; more especially one that was
to be seen on a standard of white satin, on which was represented to
the life a little jackass, much like a Sardinian ass-colt, holding up
his head, stretching out his neck, and thrusting out his tongue, in
the very posture of an ass that is braying, with this distich written
in fair characters about it:
"'Twas something more than nothing which one day
Made one and t'other worthy bailiff bray."
Don Quixote drew this inference from the motto, that those were the
inhabitants of the braying town; and he acquainted Sancho with what he
had observed, giving him also to understand, that the man who told
them the story of the two braying aldermen was apparently in the
wrong; since, according to the verses on the standard, they were two
bailiffs, and not two aldermen. "It matters not one rush what you call
them," quoth Sancho; "for those very aldermen that brayed might in
time come to be made bailiffs of the town; and so both those titles
might have been given them well enough. But what is it to you or me,
or the story, whether the two brayers were aldermen or bailiffs, so
they but brayed as we are told? As if a bailiff were not as likely to
bray as an alderman!"
In short, both master and man plainly understood that the men who were
thus up in arms were those that were jeered for braying, got together
to fight the people of another town, who had indeed abused them more
than was the part of good neighbours; thereupon Don Quixote advanced
towards them, to Sancho's great grief, who had no manner of liking to
such kind of adventures. The multitude soon got about the knight,
taking him for some champion, who was come to their assistance. But
Don Quixote, lifting up his vizor, with a graceful deportment rode up
to the standard, and there all the chief leaders of the army got
together about him, in order to take a survey of his person, no less
amazed at this strange appearance than the rest. Don Quixote seeing
them look so earnestly on him, and no man offer so much as a word or
question, took occasion from their silence to break his own; and
raising his voice, "Good gentlemen," cried he, "I beseech you with all
the endearments imaginable, to give no interruption to the discourse I
am now delivering to you, unless you find it distasteful or tedious;
which, if I am unhappy enough to occasion, at the least hint you shall
give me, I will put a seal on my lips and a padlock on my tongue."
They all cried that he might speak what he pleased, and they would
hear him with all their hearts. Having this license, Don Quixote
proceeded:
"Gentlemen," said he, "I am a knight-errant; and my profession is to
shew favour to those that are in necessity, and to give assistance to
those that are in distress. I am no stranger to the cause of your
uneasiness, which excites you to take arms against your insulting
neighbours; and having often reflected upon the motives which have
brought you together, I have drawn this inference; that according to
the laws of arms, you really injure yourselves in thinking yourselves
affronted; for no particular person can give an affront to a whole
town and society of men, except it be by accusing them all of high
treason in general, for want of knowing on which of them to fix some
treasonable action, of which he supposes some of them to be guilty.
Taking it for granted, then, that no particular person can affront a
whole kingdom, province, city, commonwealth, or body politic, it is
but just to conclude, that it is needless to revenge such a pretended
affront; since such an abuse is no sufficient provocation, and,
indeed, positively no affront. It would be a pretty piece of wisdom,
truly, should those out of the town of Reloxa sally out every day on
those who spend their ill-natured breaths, miscalling them every
where. It would be a fine business, indeed, if the inhabitants of
those several famous towns that are nick-named by our rabble, and
called the one cheesemongers, the other costermongers, these
fishmongers, and those soapboilers, should know no better than to
think themselves dishonoured, and in revenge be always drawing out
their swords at the least word, for every idle insignificant quarrel.
No, no, Heaven forbid! men of sagacity and wisdom, and well-governed
commonwealths, are never induced to take up arms, nor endanger their
persons and estates, but on the four following occasions. In the first
place, to defend the holy Catholic faith. Secondly, for the security
of their lives, which they are commanded to preserve by the laws of
God and nature. Thirdly, the preservation of their good name, the
reputation of their family, and the conservation of their estates.
Fourthly, the service due to their prince in a just war; and, if we
please, we may add a fifth, which, indeed, may be referred to the
second: the defence of our country. To these five capital causes may
be subjoined several others, which may induce men to vindicate
themselves, and have recourse even to the way of arms; but to take
them up for mere trifles, and such occasions as rather challenge our
mirth and contemptuous laughter than revenge, shews the person who is
guilty of such proceedings to labour under a scarcity of sense.
Besides, to seek after an unjust revenge (and indeed no human revenge
can be just) is directly against the holy law we profess, which
commands us to forgive our enemies, and to do good to those that hate
us: an injunction, which though it seems difficult in the implicit
obedience we should pay to it, yet is only so to those who have less
of heaven than of the world, and more of the flesh than of the spirit.
For the Redeemer of mankind, whose words never could deceive, said
'that his yoke was easy, and his burden light;' and according to that,
he could prescribe nothing to our practice which was impossible to be
done. Therefore, gentlemen, since reason and religion recommend love
and peace to you, I hope you will not render yourselves obnoxious to
all laws, both human and divine, by a breach of the public
tranquillity."
"Verily," quoth Sancho to himself, "this master of mine must have been
bred a parson; if not, he is as like one as one egg is like another."
Don Quixote paused a while, to take breath; and, perceiving his
auditory still willing to give him attention, had proceeded in his
harangue, had not Sancho's good opinion of his parts made him lay hold
on this opportunity to talk in his turn. "Gentlemen," quoth he, "my
master, Don Quixote de la Mancha, once called the Knight of the
Sorrowful Figure, and now the Knight of the Lions, is a very judicious
gentleman, and talks Latin and his own mother-tongue as well as any of
your 'varsity-doctors. Whatever discourse he takes in hand, he speaks
to the purpose; he has all the laws and rules of punctilio and honour
at his fingers' end; so that you have no more to do but to do as he
says, and if in taking his counsel you ever tread awry, let the blame
be laid on my shoulders. And, indeed, as you have already been told,
it is a very silly fancy to be ashamed to hear one bray; for I
remember when I was a boy, I could bray as often as I listed, and
nobody went about to hinder me; and I could do it so rarely, and to
the life, without vanity be it spoken, that all the asses in our town
would fall a braying when they heard me bray; yet for all this, I was
an honest body's child, and came of good parentage, do ye see; it is
true, indeed, four of the best young men in our parish envied me for
this great ability of mine; but I cared not a rush for their spite.
Now, that you may not think I tell you a story, do but hear me, and
then judge; for this rare art is like swimming, which, when once
learned, is never to be forgotten!"
This said, he clapped both the palms of his hands to his nose, and
fell a braying so obstreperously, that it made the neighbouring
valleys ring again. But while he was thus braying, one of those that
stood next to him, believing he did it to mock them, gave him such a
hearty blow with a quarter-staff on his back, that he brought him to
the ground.
Don Quixote, seeing what a rough entertainment had been given to his
squire, moved with his lance in a threatening posture towards the man
that had used poor Sancho thus; but the crowd thrust themselves in
such a manner between them, that the knight found it impracticable to
pursue the revenge he designed. At the same time, finding that a
shower of stones began to rain about his ears, and a great number of
cross-bows and muskets were getting ready for his reception, he turned
Rozinante's reins, and galloped from them as fast as four legs would
carry him, at the same time expecting at every step that he should be
shot through the back, and have the bullet come out at his breast.
But the country battalion were satisfied with seeing him fly, and did
not offer to shoot at him.
As for Sancho, he was set upon his ass before he had well recovered
his senses, and then they suffered him to move off; not that the poor
fellow had strength enough to guide him, but Dapple naturally followed
Rozinante of his own accord. The Don being at a good distance from the
armed multitude, faced about, and seeing Sancho pacing after him
without any troublesome attendants, stayed for his coming up. As for
the rabble, they kept their posts till it grew dark, and their enemies
not having taken the field to give them battle, they marched home, so
overjoyed to have shewn their courage, without danger, that, had they
been so well bred as to have known the ancient custom of the Greeks,
they would have erected a trophy in that place.