CHAPTER XCIII.

_Wherein is given an account of the Knight of the White Moon; with

other matters._

Don Antonio Moreno followed the Knight of the White Moon to his inn,

whither he was attended by a rabble of boys. The knight being got to

his chamber, where his squire waited to take off his armour, Don

Antonio came in, declaring he would not be shaken off till he had

discovered who he was. The knight finding that the gentleman would not

leave him, "Sir," said he, "since I lie under no obligation of

concealing myself, if you please, while my man disarms me, you shall

hear the whole truth of the story.

"You must know, sir, I am called the Bachelor Carrasco: I live in the

same town with this Don Quixote, whose unaccountable phrenzy has moved

all his neighbours, and me among the rest, to endeavour by some means

to cure his madness; in order to which, believing that rest and ease

would prove the surest remedy, I bethought myself of this present

stratagem; and, about three months ago, in the equipage of a

knight-errant, under the title of the Knight of the Mirrors, I met him

on the road, fixed a quarrel upon him, and the conditions of our

combat were as you have heard already. But fortune then declared for

him, for he unhorsed and vanquished me; and so I was disappointed: he

prosecuted his adventures, and I returned home very much hurt with my

fall. But willing to retrieve my credit, I have made this second

attempt, and now have succeeded; for I know him to be so nicely

punctual in whatever his word and honour is engaged for, that he will

undoubtedly perform his promise. This, sir, is the sum of the whole

story; and I beg the favour of you to conceal me from Don Quixote,

that my project may not be ruined a second time, and that the honest

gentleman, who is naturally a man of good parts, may recover his

understanding." "Oh, sir," replied Don Antonio, "what have you to

answer for, in robbing the world of the most diverting folly that ever

was exposed among mankind! Consider, sir, that his cure can never

benefit the public half so much as his distemper. But I am apt to

believe, Sir Bachelor, that his madness is too firmly fixed for your

art to remove; and, indeed, I cannot forbear wishing it may be so; for

by Don Quixote's cure, we not only lose his good company, but the

drolleries and comical humours of Sancho Panza too, which are enough

to cure melancholy itself of the spleen. However, I promise to say

nothing of the matter; though I confidently believe, sir, your pains

will be to no purpose." Carrasco told him, that having succeeded so

far, he was obliged to cherish better hopes; and asking Don Antonio if

he had any farther service to command him, he took his leave; and

packing up his armour on a carriage-mule, presently mounted his

charging horse, and leaving the city that very day, posted homewards,

meeting no adventure on the road worthy a place in this faithful

history.

Don Antonio gave an account of the discourse he had had with Carrasco

to the viceroy, who was vexed to think that so much pleasant diversion

was like to be lost to all those that were acquainted with the Don's

exploits.

Six days did Don Quixote keep his bed, very dejected, and full of

severe and dismal reflections on his fatal overthrow. Sancho was his

comforter; and among his other crumbs of comfort, "My dear master,"

quoth he, "cheer up; come, pluck up a good heart, and be thankful for

coming off no worse. Why, a man has broken his neck with a less fall,

and you have not so much as a broken rib. Consider, sir, that they

that game must sometimes lose; we must not always look for bacon where

we see the hooks. Come, sir, cry a fig for the doctor, since you will

not need him this bout; let us jog home fair and softly, without

thinking any more of sauntering up and down, nobody knows whither, in

quest of adventures and bloody noses. Why, sir, I am the greatest

loser, if you go to that, though it is you that are in the worst

pickle. It is true, I was weary of being a governor, and gave over

all thoughts that way; but yet I never parted with my inclination of

being an earl; and now, if you miss being a king, by casting off your

knight-errantry, poor I may go whistle for my earldom." "No more of

that, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "I shall only retire for a year, and

then reassume my honourable profession, which will undoubtedly secure

me a kingdom, and thee an earldom." "Heaven grant it may," quoth

Sancho, "and no mischief betide us; hope well and have well, says the

proverb."

Two days after, Don Quixote, being somewhat recovered, took his leave

of Don Antonio, and having caused his armour to be laid on Dapple, he

set forwards on his journey home, Sancho thus being forced to trudge

after him on foot.

Don Quixote, as he went out of Barcelona, cast his eyes on the spot of

ground where he was overthrown. "Here once Troy stood," said he; "here

my unhappy fate, and not my cowardice, deprived me of all the glories

I had purchased. Here fortune, by an unexpected reverse, made me

sensible of her inconstancy and fickleness. Here my exploits suffered

a total eclipse; and in short, here fell my happiness, never to rise

again." Sancho, hearing his master thus dolefully paraphrasing on his

misfortunes, "Good sir," quoth he, "it is as much the part of great

spirits to have patience when the world frowns upon them, as to be

joyful when all goes well; and I judge of it by myself; for if when I

was a governor I was merry, now I am but a poor squire a-foot I am not

sad. And indeed I have heard say, that this same lady they call

Fortune is a whimsical, freakish quean, and blind into the bargain; so

that she neither sees what she does, nor knows whom she raises nor

whom she casts down." "Thou art very much a philosopher, Sancho," said

Don Quixote; "thou talkest very sensibly. I wonder how thou camest by

all this; but I must tell thee there is no such thing as fortune in

the world, nor does any thing that happens here below of good or ill

come by chance, but by the appointment of Providence; and this makes

good the proverb, that every man may thank himself for his own

fortune. For my part, I have been the maker of mine; but for want of

using the discretion I ought to have used, all my presumptuous edifice

sunk, and tumbled down at once. I might well have considered that

Rozinante was too weak and feeble to withstand the Knight of the White

Moon's huge and strong-built horse. However, I would needs adventure:

I did the best I could, and was overcome. Yet though it has cost me my

honour, I have not lost, nor can I lose, my integrity to perform my

promise. Trudge on then, friend Sancho, and let us get home, to pass

the year of our probation. In that retirement we shall recover new

vigour, to return again to the never-to-be-forgotten profession of

arms."

That night master and man took up their lodging in a field, under the

roof of the open sky; and the next day, as they were on their journey,

they saw coming towards them a man on foot, with a wallet about his

neck, and a javelin or dart in his hand, just like a foot-post. The

man mended his pace when he came near Don Quixote, and, almost

running, came with a great deal of joy in his looks, and embraced Don

Quixote's right thigh, for he could reach no higher. "My Lord Don

Quixote de la Mancha," cried he, "oh, how heartily glad my lord duke

will be when he understands you are coming again to his castle, for

there he is still with my lady duchess." "I do not know you, friend,"

answered Don Quixote; "nor can I imagine who you should be, unless you

tell me yourself." "My name is Tosilos, if it please your honour; I am

my lord duke's footman, the same who would not fight with you about

Donna Rodriguez's daughter." "Bless me!" cried Don Quixote, "is it

possible you should be the man whom those enemies of mine, the

magicians, transformed into a lackey, to deprive me of the honour of

that combat?" "Softly, good sir," replied the footman; "there was

neither enchantment nor transformation in the case. I was as much a

footman when I entered the lists as when I came out; and it was

because I had a mind to marry the young gentlewoman that I refused to

fight. But I was sadly disappointed; for, when you were gone, my lord

duke had me soundly banged for not doing as he ordered me in that

matter; and the upshot was this, Donna Rodriguez is packed away to

seek her fortune, and the daughter is shut up in a nunnery. As for me,

I am going to Barcelona with a parcel of letters from my lord to the

viceroy. However, sir, if you please to take a sip, I have here a

calabash full of the best, with some excellent cheese, that will make

it go down, I warrant you." "I take you at your word," quoth Sancho;

"I am no proud man; and so let us drink, honest Tosilos, in spite of

all the enchanters in the Indies." "Well, Sancho," said Don Quixote,

"thou art certainly the veriest glutton that ever was, and the

silliest blockhead in the world, else thou wouldst consider that this

man thou seest here is enchanted, and a sham lackey. Stay with him, if

thou thinkest fit, and gratify thy voracious appetite; for my part, I

will ride softly on before." Tosilos smiled, and, laying his bottle

and his cheese upon the grass, he and Sancho sat down there, and, like

sociable messmates, never stirred till they had quite cleared the

wallet.

While they were thus employed, "Friend Sancho," quoth Tosilos, "I know

not what to make of this master of yours; doubtless he ought to be

reckoned a madman." "Why ought?" replied Sancho; "he owes nothing to

any body, for he pays for every thing, especially where madness is

current; there he might be the richest man in the kingdom, he has such

a stock of it. I see it full well, and full well I tell him of it; but

what boots it, especially now that he is all in the dumps, for having

been worsted by the Knight of the White Moon?" Tosilos begged of

Sancho to tell him that story; but Sancho said it would not be

handsome to let his master stay for him, but that next time they met

he would tell him the whole matter. With that they got up; and, after

the squire had brushed his clothes and put himself to rights, he drove

Dapple along, and with a good-by-to-ye, left Tosilos, in order to

overtake his master, who stayed for him under the cover of a tree.

The History of Don Quixote de la Mancha · 第 93 / 96 章