let us forget what is past, with regard to animosity, and tell me, without any ingredient of rancour and resentment, where and how you found Dulcinea? What was she doing? What did she say? What answer did she make? How did she look when she read my letter? Who transcribed it for her perusal? These particulars, and every other circumstance of the affair, which you think worthy to be known, asked, and answered, I expect you will explain, without seeking to increase my pleasure with false additions, much less to diminish it by malicious omission."-" Signor (answered Sancho), if the truth must be told, nobody transcribed the letter, because I had no letter to be transcribed."-"That is very true (replied the knight); for, two days after thy departure, I found the pocket-book in which it was written a circumstance that gave me infinite pain, as I could not conceive what thou wouldest do when the mistake should appear; indeed I always imagined thou wouldest have returned hither immediately upon the discovery." "That would certainly have been the case (said the 'squire), if, when your worship read it to me, I had not retained it in my memory, so perfect as to be able to dictate it to a parish clerk, who, as I repeated, transcribed it so exactly, that he said in all the days of his life, though he had read many letters of excommunication, he had never seen such a clever letter as yours." "And dost thou still retain it?" said Don Quixote.-"No, sir, replied Sancho. For, after I had put it into her hand, I thought there was no farther occasion to retain it, and therefore let it slip out of my remembrance; or, if any part remains, it is that of the subterrene-I mean sovereign lady, and the conclusion. Yours till death, the Knight of the Rueful Countenance; with about three hundred souls, and lives, and pigsnies, which I set down in the middle.' 39 CHAP. IV. " The savoury conversation that passed between Don Quixote and his 'Squire Sancho Panza; with many other incidents. "ALL this is pretty well; proceed (said Don Quixote): how was that queen of beauty employed, when you arrived? I dare say, you found her stringing pearls, or embroidering some device for this her captive knight, with threads of gold."-" No, truly (answered the 'squire); I found her winnowing two bushels of wheat in the yard."-" Then you may de pend upon it (resumed the knight), the grains of that wheat were converted into pearls by the touch of her hand: and didst thou observe, my friend, whether it was of the finer or common sort?"-"Why neither (said Sancho), it seemed to be as it were red wheat."-" But, since it was winnowed by her fair hands (answered Don Quixote), I dare affirm, it will make the whitest bread in Spain. Go on with thy information. When the letter was delivered did she not kiss it, and place it on the crown of her head, in token of respect? did she not perform some ceremony worthy of such a letter? pray, how did she receive it?"-" When I presented the letter (answered Sancho), she was in a main hurry, winnowing a large heap of wheat that was in her sieve; and said to me, ' Friend, lay down the letter on that sack, for I cannot pretend to read it, until I have made an end of my work.'"-" Discreet lady! (cried the knight); her intention certainly was to read it at her leisure, that she might recreate herself with the contents.-Proceed, Sancho-and while she was thus employed, what conversation passed between you? what questions did she ask concerning me? and what answers didst thou make? Recount the whole, without leaving one syllable untold. ¡ "She asked me no questions (replied the 'squire); but I told her, how I had left your worship doing penance for love of her, skipping among those rocks, naked from the waist upwards, like a mere savage, sleeping on the bare ground; neglecting to eat your food like a Christian, or to comb your beard like a decent man, but whining, and weeping, and cursing your fortune."-" If you said I cursed my fortune, you misrepresented me (said Don Quix ote); for I bless my fate, and will bless it all the days of my life, for having made me worthy to aspire to the love of such an high lady as Dulcinea del Toboso." "High indeed! (answered Sancho), for, in faith, she is a good hand taller than I am." -"How, hast thou been measured with her, Sancho?" said the knight. "I'll tell you how (answered the 'squire); while I was helping to lay a load of corn upon an ass, we came so close together, that I could easily perceive she overtopped me by a full hand." "That may be true (said Don Quixote), though her tallness is accompanied and adorned by a myriad of mental graces. But, this you will not deny, Sancho, that while you was so near her, your nostrils were regaled by a Sabæan odour, an aromatic fragrance, a cer tain delicious sensation, for which there is no name. I mean a scent, a perfume, such as fills the shop of some curious glover."-" All that I can say (answered Sancho), is, that I was sensible of a sort of rammish smell, which, I believe, was owing to her being in a muck sweat with hard work."-" That is impossible (cried the knight), thy sense must have been depraved; or that smell must have proceeded from thy own body; for I am perfectly well acquainted with the odour of that rose among briars, that lily of the valley, that liquid amber."-" It may be so (said Sancho): I have often known such smells come from myself, as then seemed to come from my lady Dulcinea: but that is not to be wondered at: because, as the saying is, every fiend may stink of brimstone."-"Well then (added Don Quixote), she hath now win nowed the wheat, and sent it to the mill, how did she behave after she had read my letter?" "The letter (answered Sancho), was not read at all: for, as she could neither read nor write, she chose to rend and tear it to pieces, rather than give it to any body who might publish her secrets in the village; saying, she was very well satisfied with the information I gave her, by word of mouth, concerning your worship's love for her, and the extraordinary penance I left you doing on her account. Finally, she bade me tell you, that she kissed your worship's hands, being much more desirous of seeing than writing to you; and therefore she entreated and commanded your worship, by these presents, to quit this desert, and leave off playing the fool, and forthwith set out on your journey to Toboso, provided that something else of greater importance should not happen; for she longed very much for a sight of your worship: and laughed heartily when I told her, that you had taken the name of the Knight with the Rueful Countenance. When I asked if the Biscayan had been lately with her, she answered, Yes; and that he was very much of a gentleman: but, when I inquired about the galley-slaves, she said, she had as yet seen none of them." "Hitherto all goes well (said the knight); but, pray tell me, what jewel she gave you at parting, for the news you had brought of me her lover; for it is an ancient practice and custom among knights-errant and their mistresses, to bestow upon their 'squires, damsels, or dwarfs, who bring them news of each other, some rich jewel, as a reward and acknowledgment for the message." "It may be so (said Sancho), and I think it an excellent custom; but that must have been in times past; for, in this age, it is customary to give nothing but a piece of bread and cheese, which was all the present I received from my lady Dulcinea, who reached it over the yard wall, when I took my leave; by this token, that the cheese was made of ewe's milk."-" She is liberal to excess (said the knight); and if she omitted giving thee a jewel, it must certainly have been owing to her not having any by her; but all in good time:* I shall see her soon, and then every thing will be set to rights. Yet there is one thing, Sancho, which overwhelms me with astonishment. You seem to have travelled through the air; for you have spent little more than three days in your journey, though Toboso is more than thirty leagues distant from hence. From this extraordinary expedition, I conjecture that the sage, who is my friend, and interests nimself in my affairs; and such there certainly is, and must be, else I should be no true knight-errant : I say, this enchanter must have assisted thee in thy journey, though thou didst not perceive it; for some there are of that class, who will take up a knight-errant while he is asleep in his bed, and, without his knowing any thing of the matter, he shall awake next morning in some place more than a thousand leagues from the house where he took up his lodging the night before; and without such sudden transportations, it would be impossible for knights to succour each other in distress, as they frequently do. A knight-errant, for example, happens to be fighting in the deserts of Armenia, with some fierce dragon, dreadful goblin, or rival knight, and being worsted, and just at the point of being slain, behold, when he least expects it, there suddenly appears in a cloud or fiery chariot, another knight, a friend of his, who, but a minute before, resided in England, and who assists and delivers him from death; and that same night he finds himself supping at his ease in his own house, which is often two or three thousand leagues from the field of battle; and all this is effected by the industry and art of sage enchanters, who take those valiant knights under their protection. "Wherefore, friend Sancho, I can easily believe that thou hast in so little time travelled from hence to Toboso and back again; because, as I have already observed, some friendly sage must have carried thee through the air, though thou didst not perceive it."" Not unlikely (replied the 'squire), for, in good faith, Rozinante went like a gipsy's ass, with quicksilver in his ears.' -"With quicksilver! (cried the knight); ay, and a legion of demons to boot, who are beings that travel themselves, and make other people travel as fast as they please, without tiring. "But, waiving this subject, how dost thou think I ought to regulate my conduct, now that my mistress commands me to appear in her presence; for, although I find myself obliged to comply with her orders, I am utterly incapacitated by the boon I have granted to this princess; and I am bound, by the laws of chivalry to fulfil my promise, before I indulge my inclination. On one hand, I am persecuted and harassed by the desire of seeing Dulcinea; on the other, I am incited and invited by my honour, and the glory I shall acquire in this enterprise. I am therefore determined to travel with all expedition, until I arrive at the place where the giant resides; and when I shall have restored the princess to the peaceable possession of her kingdom, after having shortened the Literally, Sleeves are good even after Easter, i. e. though a good thing comes too late, it is never unseasonable. usurper by the head, I will return to the rays of that beauty which enlightens my thoughts, and excuse myself in such a manner as to obtain her forgiveness, as she will plainly perceive that my delay tended to the increase of her glory and fame: seeing all my reputation in arms, past, present, or to come, proceeds from her fa vour and inspiration."-" Lord! (cried Sancho), how your worship is concerned about a parcel of potsherds. Pray, tell me, sir, do you intend to make this journey for nothing; and to let such a rich and noble marriage as this slip through your fingers, while the dowry is no less than a kingdom; which, I have actually heard, is more than twenty thousand leagues round, plentifully stored with every thing that is needful for the sustenance of mortal man, and larger than Portugal and Castile put toge ther? Hold your tongue, a God's name, and take shame to yourself for what you have said: pardon my freedom, take my advice, and marry in the first place where we can find a curate; or make use of our friend the licentiate, who will buckle you handsomely. Take notice there fore, that I am of an age to give good counsel, and this that I offer will fit you to a hair; for a bird in hand is worth two in the bush; and, as the saying is, he that hath good in his view, and yet will not evil eschew, his folly deserveth to rue." "Sancho (answered Don Quixote), if thou advisest me to marry, with a view of seeing me king, after I shall have killed the giant, that I may have an opportunity of rewarding thee with what I have promised, thou must know, that I can easily gratify thy wishes without wedding the princess; for, before I engage in the combat, I will covenant, that provided I come off conqueror, and decline the marriage, I shall have it in my power to dispose of one part of the kingdom as I shall think proper; and to whom should I give it but to thee?""That is very plain (replied the 'squire); but I beseech your worship to make choice of the sea-coast, because, if I should happen to dislike the country, I may ship off my black slaves, and sell them as I have already hinted. Wherefore, without troubling yourself at present about my lady Dulcinea, I would have you go and slay the giant, and conclude that affair from which, before God! we shall certainly reap much honour and advantage."-" I tell thee, Sancho (said Don Quixote), thou art in the right, and I will follow thy advice, so far as it regards my attendance upon the princess, before I visit Dulcinea. But say not a word to any body, even those of our company not excepted, of this conversation; for, as she is so reserved and careful of concealing her sentiments, it would be inexcusable in me, if I, or any other through my means, should disclose them.""Since that is the case (said the 'squire), why does your worship command all those who are vanquished by your arm, to go and present themselves before my lady Dulcinea? You may as well give it under your hand, that you are her true and trusty lover; for if you compel them to fall upon their knees before her, and say they are sent by your worship to pay homage to her, how is it possible, that the sen timents of either you or her can be concealed?" "What an ignorant and simple fellow thou art! (resumed the knight); canst thou not see that all this redounds to her praise and exaltation?-Thou must know, that in our style of chivalry it is deemed a great honour for a lady to be admired by a great many knights, whose wishes extend no farther than to the desire of serving her for her own sake, without expecting any other reward for their great and manifold services, than the glory of being admitted into the number of her knights."-" In like manner (said Sancho), I have heard a priest in the pulpit observe, that we must love our Saviour for his own sake, without being moved thereto by any fear of punishment, or hopes of applause; though, for my own part, I am inclined to love and serve him on account of his power."66 Now, the devil take the clown! (cried Don Quixote), he sometimes makes such shrewd obs servations, that one would think he had actually studied!"-" And yet, upon my conscience (answered the 'squire), I know not so much as my letters." At that instant, Mr Nicholas calling aloud to them to stop a little, that the rest might have time to drink at a spring which they found in the way, Don Quixote turned back, to the no small satisfaction of Sancho, who was already tired with telling lies, and afraid of being detected by his master; for, although he knew that Dulcinea was the daughter of a peasant at Toboso, he had never seen her in his life. By this time Cardenio had put on the clothes which Dorothea wore when they found her; and though they were none of the most elegant, he made a much better figure than with his tattered dress, which he now threw away. The whole company sat down by the spring, where, while they appeased the keen hunger that possessed them all, with what the curate had brought from the inn, a lad chanced to pass that way, who, looking earnestly at the whole company, at length ran up to Don Quixote, and, embracing his knees, began to blubber most heartily, saying, "Ah! signor, don't you know me? look at me again: I am that same individual young man, called Andrew, whom your worship delivered from the tree to which I was tied." The knight recollected his features, and, taking him by the hand, addressed himself to the company in these words: "That you may see of what importance knight-errantry is, to redress the wrongs and grievances which are daily committed by the insolent and wicked wretches who live upon this carth, know, that as I passed by a wood some time ago, I heard the screams and woful cries of some afflicted creature in the utmost distress; and, in consequence of my oath and obligation, riding towards the place from which the lamentation seemed to come, I found this very young man tied to an oak tree; and I am glad from my soul that he is here in person, to bear witness to the truth. I say, he was bound to an oak, naked from the waist upwards; and a pea sant, who, I afterwards understood, was his master, stood scourging him with the reins of a bridle. When I inquired into the cause of this barbarous treatment, the rustic answered, that he only whipped his own servant for being guilty of some neglect that savoured more of knavishness than simplicity. The boy protested he had done nothing but asked his wages; to this affirmation the master replied by some as severations which I have forgot; but, though I heard his excuses, I would not admit of them. In short, I ordered the peasant to untie the youth, and made him swear that he would carry him home, and pay him his wages in ready cash, nay, and pay him in rials that should be perfumed. Is not this literally true, son Andrew? didst thou not observe with what authority I commanded, and with what humility he promised to comply with every thing that I imposed, suggested, and desired? Answer without perturbation or doubt, and tell this honourable company what passed, that they may see and be convinced of what use it is, as I said, to have knights-errant continually upon duty." All that your worship hath told is very true (answered the young man); but the end of the business was quite the reverse of what you imagined."-"How! the reverse! (cried the knight); has not the peasant paid thee thy wages?""Far from paying me my wages (said Andrew), your worship was no sooner out of the wood, and we by ourselves again, than he bound me a second time to the same oak, and lashed me so severely, that I remained like St Bartholomew, flead alive; and, at every stripe, he jeered, and scoffed, and made game of your worship in such a manner, that, if it had not been for the excessive pain I felt, I could not have refrained from laughing at what he said. In short, he treated me so cruelly, that, till this very day, I have been in the hospital, for the cure of the wounds I received from that mischievous farmer; and truly your worship was the cause of all that I suffered; for, if you had followed your own road, without going where nobody called you, or meddling with other people's affairs, my master would have been satisfied with giving me a cool dozen or two, and then loosed and paid me my due. But, when your worship abused him so unseasonably, and called him so many bad names, his choler was inflamed; and, as he could not be revenged upon you, as soon as you was gone he dis charged the storm of his wrath upon me in such a manner, that I shall never be my own man again." "The misfortune (said the knight), was in my leaving him before I had seen thee paid; for I ought to have known, by long experience, that no peasant will keep his word, if he thinks it his interest to break it. But thou mayest remember, Andrew, that I swore, if he did not perform his promise, I would return and search for him until he should be found, even if he should hide himself in the whale's belly."" Very true (replied Andrew); but that threat signified nothing."-" Thou shalt presently see what it signifies," resumed Don Quixote, who, getting up hastily, ordered Sancho to bridle Rozinante, who was following their example, in refreshing himself with grass. When Dorothea asked what he intended to do, he replied, he was going in quest of the peasant, to chastise him for his villainous be haviour, and make him pay Andrew to the last farthing, in despite and defiance of all the rustics upon earth. To this declaration she answered, by desiring him to consider, that, according to the promised boon, he could not engage in any enterprise until her affair should be finished; and, since this stipulation was known to himself better than to any other person, she entreated him to repress his resentment till his return from her kingdom. "That is very true (resumed the knight), and Andrew must wait with patience for my return, as your majesty observes; but I repeat my oath and my promise, never to desist until I shall have seen his wages paid and his injuries revenged."-" I don't trust to those oaths (said Andrew), and would rather, at present, have wherewithal to bear my expenses to Seville, than all the revenge in the world: be so good, if you have any victuals, to give me something to eat upon my journey, and the Lord be with your worship and all knights-errant, who, I wish, may always err as much in their own affairs as they have done in mine." Sancho, taking a luncheon of bread and cheese from the store, gave it to the young man, saying, "Here, brother Andrew, take this: and now we have all shared in your misfortune." When Andrew asked what share of it had fallen to him, he replied, "That share of bread and cheese which I have given you; and God knows whether I shall not feel the loss of it; for, you must know, friend, that we 'squires of knights-errant are subject to many a hungry belly, with other misfortunes, which are more easily felt than described." Andrew accepted of the bread and cheese, and, seeing that nobody offered him any thing else, made his bows, and, as the saying is, took his foot in his hand.* True it is, before he Literally, Took the road in his hands. departed he addressed himself to Don Quixote, saying, "For the love of God! sir knight errant, if ever you meet me again, spare your self the trouble of coming to my assistance, even though you should see me cut into minced meat, but leave me to my misfortune, which cannot be so great but that it may be increased by the succour of your worship, whom God confound, together with all the knights-errant that ever were born." Don Quixote started up, in order to chastise him, but he ran away with such nimbleness, that nobody attempted to pursue him; and the knight was so ashamed of his exploit, that the company were at great pains to contain their laughter, to prevent his being quite out of countenance. CHAP. V. lady's tail, and every thing else they had borrowed with a view of disengaging Don Quixote from the mountain; and all the people of the inn were astonished at the beauty of Dorothea, as also at the genteel mien of the swain Cardenio. The curate ordered them to get ready something to eat; and the innkeeper, in hope of being well paid, dressed, with all despatch, a pretty reasonable dinner; but they did not think proper to waken Don Quixote, who, they believed, stood at that time more in need of sleep than of food. The discourse at table, in presence of the innkeeper, his wife, daughter, Maritornes, and all the other lodgers, happening to turn upon the uncommon madness of the knight, and the condition in which they found him, the hostess recounted to them what had happened in her house between him and the carrier; then looking round the room, and seeing Sancho was not Which treats of what happened to Don Quixote present, she told the whole story of the blanketand his company at the inn. THEIR Sumptuous meal being ended, they saddled their beasts, and, without meeting any thing worthy of mention, arrived next day at the very inn which was so much the dread and terror of Sancho; but, unwilling as he was to enter, he could not avoid going into it. The innkeeper, his wife, daughter, and Maritornes, seeing Don Quixote and Sancho at the gate, went out to receive them with great demonstra tions of joy; and the knight returned their compliments with grave deportment and solemn approbation, desiring them to prepare a better bed for him than that which he had occupied before. To this demand the landlady answered, that, provided he would pay better than he did before, he should lie like a prince; he promised to see her satisfied, and they immediately made up a tolerable bed, in the same garret where he had formerly lodged, in which he laid himself down, very much disordered both in body and mind. He was no sooner locked up in his chamber, than the landlady attacked the barber, and, seizing him by the beard, cried, "By my faith! you shall no longer use my tail for a beard. Give me my tail, I say, for it is a shame to see how my husband's thing is bandied about for want of it; I mean the comb that he used to stick in my tail." But the barber would not part with it for all her tugging, until the priest desired him to restore it; because there was no further occasion for the disguise, as he might now appear in his own shape, and tell the knight, that after he had been robbed by the galley-slaves he had fled to that inn; and if he should inquire for the princess's gentleman usher, they would tell him, she had despatched him away before her, to advertise her friends and subjects that she was upon the road, accompanied by the deliverer of them all. Thus satisfied, the barber willingly restored the land ting, to the no small entertainment of the company. The curate observing that Don Quixote's understanding was disordered by the books of chivalry he had read, the innkeeper replied, I cannot conceive how that is possible, for really, in my opinion, they are the best reading in the world: I have now in my custody two or three of them, together with some other papers, which, I verily believe, have preserved, not only my life, but also that of many others ; for, in harvest time, a great number of reapers come hither to pass the heat of the day, and there be ing always one among them who can read, he takes up a book, and we, to the number of thirty or more, forming a ring about him, listen with such pleasure, as were enough to make an old man grow young again; at least, I can say for myself, when I hear him read of those furious and terrible strokes that have been given by certain knights, I am seized with the desire of being at it myself; and could listen to such stories whole nights and days without ceasing." -"I wish you would, with all my heart (replied the wife), for, I am sure, I never enjoy a quiet minute in the house, except when they are reading, and then you are so bamboozled with what you hear, you forget to scold for that time."-"That is the very truth of the matter (said Maritornes): in good faith, I myself am hugely diverted when I hear those things; they are so clever, especially when they tell us how yon t'other lady lay among orange trees in the embraces of her knight, while a duenna, half dead with envy and surprise, kept sentry over them-odd! all these things make my chops water." "And what is your opinion of the matter, my young mistress?" said the priest to the innkeeper's daughter.-" Truly, signor, I don't well know (she replied), but listen among the rest, and really, though I do not understand it, I am pleased with what I hear; yet I take no |