that surprised 'all that heard it, the soldier's continence being so incredible; but she insisted upon it with such earnest asseverations, that the disconsolate father was in some sort comforted, making little account of the money he had lost, since his daughter was allowed to keep the jewel, which, when once lost, there is no hope of retrieving.

"The same day that Leandra appeared, her father removed her from our eyes, and shut her up in a monastery of a neighbouring town, hoping that time would efface some part of the bad opinion his daughter had incurred: the tender years of Leandra served as an excuse for her misconduct, especially with those who are not concerned in the affair; but those who know her discretion and good sense, do not ascribe her fault to ignorance, but to mere levity, and the natural disposition of women, which is always injudicious and imperfect. Leandra being thus secured, Anselmo's eyes were blind to every thing that could yield him pleasure; and mine remained in darkness, without the least glimpse of light, to direct them to any agreeable object: the absence of Leandra increased our affliction and exhausted our patience; we cursed the soldier's finery, and exclaimed against her father's want of care: at length we agreed to quit the village, and repair to this valley, where, he feeding a vast flock of sheep, which are his own property, and I tending a numerous fold of goats, which are also mine, we spend our lives under the cool shade of lofty trees, and give vent to our passion, either by singing in concert the praise or dispraise of the beautiful Leandra, or each by himself sighing in the lonely grove, and ejaculating his complaint to Heaven. In imitation of us, many more of Leandra's lovers have betaken themselves to these rugged mountains, and the exercise of the same employment; so that this spot seems to be transformed into a pastoral Arcadia, every field being crowded with shepherds and folds, and every corner resounding with the name of the fair Leandra. One curses and calls her fickle, inconstant, and immodest; a second condemns her credulity and lightness of behaviour; a third acquits and forgives her; while she is arraigned and reproached by a fourth: some celebrate her beauty, others find fault with her disposition in short, she is censured and adored by them all; nay, to such a pitch hath their extravagance risen, that some of them complain of her disdain, though they never spoke to her; and others, in their lamentations, pretend to feel the rage of jealousy, which is a passion she never inspired; for, as I have already mentioned, her fault was known before her inclination was suspected: there is not the hollow of a rock, the margin of a rill, nor the shade of a tree, that is not occupied by some shepherd, recounting his misfortune to the winds; wherever an echo can be formed, it repeats the name of

Leandra; the hills resound with Leandra; the rivulets murmur Leandra: in short, Leandra keeps us all enchanted and perplexed, hoping we know not how, and dreading we know not what. Among the wrong-headed society, he that shows the least, though he had the greatest share of judgment, is my rival Anselmo, who, notwithstanding all the cause he has to be dissatisfied, complains of absence only, tuning his lamentation to the sound of a rebeck, which he touches with admirable skill, in verses that shew the excellence of his genius: I follow a more easy, and, in my opinion, a wiser course; namely, to inveigh against the levity of the female sex; their fickleness, their double-dealing, their rotten promises, their broken faith; and finally, their want of judgment in bestowing their affections. These, gentlemen, are my reasons for the discourse you heard me address to my goat, whom (because she is a female) I despise, although she be the best of the fold: this is the story I promised to recount; and if I have been prolix in the narration, I shall not be brief in what service you shall be pleased to command: hard by is my cottage, in which I have plenty of new milk and most savoury cheese, with abundance of the fruit in season, no less agreeable to the taste than to the view."

CHAP. XXV.

Of the quarrel that happened between Don Quixote and the Goatherd, with the curious adventure of the Disciplinants, which the knight hap pily achieved with the sweat of his brow.

THIS story of the goatherd gave infinite plea sure to all that heard it, especially to the canon, who observed with admiration his manner of relating it, as distant from the rustic phrase of a peasant as near approaching to the polite style of a courtier; and therefore, he said, the curate had justly observed, that the mountains sometimes produced learned men. Every body made proffers of service to Eugenio, but he that shewed himself most liberal in compliment was Don Quixote, who said to him, "Truly, brother goatherd, were it possible for me to undertake any new adventure, I would forthwith set forword in your behalf, and deliver Leandra from that monastery in which she is, doubtless, detained against her will, in spite of the abbess and all that should oppose my design; and would put her into your hands, to be treated according to your good-will and pleasure, so far as is consistent with the laws of chivalry, by which all damsels are protected from wrongs; though I hope in God, that a malicious enchanter shall not so far prevail, but that he may be excelled in power by another of a more righte ous disposition; and then you may depend upon my favour and assistance, according to

the duty of my profession, which is no other than to succour the wretched and the weak."

The goatherd stared at Don Quixote; and being struck with admiration at his rueful as pect and dishevelled locks, said to the barber, who sat near him, "Signor, pray who is that man who looks and talks so wildly?"" Who should it be (answered the barber), but the renowned Don Quixote de la Mancha, the redresser of grievances, the righter of wrongs, the protector of damsels, the terror of giants, and thunderbolt of war?"-" That discourse (replied the peasant), puts me in mind of those books which treat of knights-errant, who were commonly distinguished by such titles as you bestow on that man; but I suppose you are pleased to be merry, or else the apartments of this poor gentleman's skull are but indifferently furnished."

"You are a most impudent rascal (cried the knight, overhearing what he said); it is your skull that is unfurnished and unsound; but mine is more pregnant than the abominable whore that brought you forth." So saying, he snatched up a loaf, and flung it at the goatherd with such fury that he levelled his nose with

his face.

Eugenio, who did not understand raillery, finding himself maltreated in earnest, without any respect for the carpet, tablecloth, or company, leaped upon the knight, and, laying hold of his collar with both hands, would certainly have strangled him, if Sancho Panza had not at that instant sprung to his master's assistance; and pulling his antagonist backwards, tumbled him over upon the table, where plates, cups, victuals, wine, and all went to wreck. Don Quixote finding himself disengaged, arose, and in his turn got upon the goatherd, who being battered by the master, and kicked by the man, was creeping about on all four in quest of a table-knife, with which he intended to take some bloody revenge, but was prevented by the canon and curate; the goatherd, however, ma naged matters so, as that he got the knight under him, when he rained such a shower of kicks and cuffs upon his carcass, that our hero's countenance was as much overflowed with blood as his own: the curate and canon were ready to burst with laughing, the troopers capered about with joy, and the whole company halloo ed, according to the practice of the spectators when two dogs are engaged: Sancho Panza alone was distracted, because he could not get out of the clutches of one of the canon's servants, who hindered him from assisting his master. In fine, when every body was thus regaled and rejoiced, except the combatants, who worried each other, they heard a trumpet utter such a melancholy note, that they could

not help turning their heads, and looking towards the place from whence the sound seemed to come; but he on whom it made the greatest impression was Don Quixote, who, though lying under his antagonist, very much against his inclination, and more than sufficiently pummelled, said to the goatherd, "Brother devil (for sure thou canst be nothing else, who has strength and valour sufficient to overcome my efforts), I beg a truce for one hour only, because the doleful sound of that trumpet which salutes our ears seems to summon me to some new adventure."

The goatherd being by this time heartily tired of drubbing, as well as of being drubbed, immediately complied with his request; and Don Quixote starting up, directed his view towards the place whence the sound seemed to issue, where he descried a great number of people dressed in white, like disciplinants, coming down the side of a neighbouring hill. That year the heavens had withheld refreshing showers from the earth; and through all the villages of that district the people instituted processions, disciplines, and prayers, beseeching God to open the fountains of his mercy, and favour them with rain for this purpose, the inhabitants of a neighbouring village were then going in procession to a holy hermitage, built on an eminence that skirted the valley; and Don Quix ote seeing the strange dress of the disciplinants,* without recollecting that he had frequently seen such habits before, concluded the whole to be an adventure, which it was the province of him, as a knight-errant, to achieve: what served to confirm him in this notion, was an image clothed in black, which was carried before them, and which he supposed to be some princess, whom those discourteous robbers were carrying off by force.

This whim no sooner entered his brain, than he ran with great agility to Rozinante, who was feeding very quietly; and taking the bridle and shield, which hung upon the pummel of the saddle, clapt the bit in his mouth in a twinkling; and, demanding his sword from Sancho, mounted his steed and braced his target, calling aloud to the company, "Now, honourable gentlemen, ye shall perceive the importance of those who profess the order of knight-errantry! now, I say, ye shall, in the deliverance of that excellent lady, who is at present a captive, behold how much knights-errant ought to be esteemed."

So saying, he clapt heels to Rozinante (spurs he had none), and at a hand-gallop (for we do not find, in this true history, that ever Rozinante went full speed), rode up to attack the disciplinants. Though the canon, curate, and barber, made efforts to detain him, they found

it impracticable; he was even deaf to the cries of Sancho, who bawled with great vociferation, "Where are you going, Signor Don Quixote? what devil possesses and provokes you to act against our catholic faith? take notice a plague upon me! take notice that this is no other than a procession of disciplinants, and that lady carried on the bier the blessed image of the immaculate Virgin! Consider, signor, what you are about; for sure I am you do not know!”

In vain did Sancho strain his lungs: his master was so intent upon overtaking the apparitions, and setting the lady in black at liberty, that he heard not one syllable; nor, if he had, would he have returned, even if the king had commanded him so to do. When he approached the procession, he stopped Rozinante, who was already out of breath, and with a hoarse disordered voice, pronounced, "You there, who, perhaps, disguise yourselves for no good, stop, and give ear to what I am going to say.

Those who carried the image were the first that halted; and one of the four priests who sung the litanies, observing the strange aspect of Don Quixote, the leanness of Rozinante, with other ridiculous circumstances belonging to both, answered in these words: "Friend, if you have any thing to say, speak quickly, for these our brethren are all this while scourging their own flesh; and we cannot, nor is it reasonable we should, tarry to hear any thing that cannot be comprehended in two words."-I will comprehend what I have to say in one (replied the knight), and it is this: I command you instantly to set free that beautiful lady, whose tears and melancholy deportment clearly demonstrate that you are carrying her off contrary to her inclination, after having done her some notorious wrong; and I, who was born to redress such grievances, will not suffer you to proceed one step farther until she shall have obtained that liberty she deserves."

From these words, concluding that he must be some madman, all of them began to laugh very heartily; and their mirth acting as a train of gunpowder to the knight's choler, he drew his sword, and, without uttering another word, attacked the bearers; one of whom, leaving his share of the load to his companions, opposed himself to this aggressor, brandishing a fork or pole, on which (when they were wearied) they supported the bier, Don Quixote, with a furious back-stroke, cut this implement in two; but with the piece which remained in the hand of the defendant, received such a thwack upon the shoulder, above his sword-arm, that his buckler was unable to sustain the shock of such a rude assault, and down came the poor knight in a most lamentable condition.

Sancho Panza, who came puffing after his master, seeing him fall, called aloud to his antagonist to forbear; for he was a poor enchanted knight, who had never done the least harm

to man, woman, or child; but the peasant's forbearance was not owing to this exclamation of the 'squire so much as to the situation of Don Quixote, who neither moved hand nor foot; so that, believing he had done his business, he hastily gathered up his frock, and fled through the field as nimble as a buck. By this time the whole company were come up to the place where Don Quixote lay; and those be longing to the procession seeing so many people running towards them, accompanied by the troopers with their cross-bows, began to be in dread of some mischievous event, and formed themselves into a circle around the image; then the disciplinants lifting up their hoods, and wielding their scourges, and the priests their long tapers, waited the assault, with full determination to defend themselves; and, if possible, act offensively against all who should attack them. But fortune disposed of things more favourably than they expected; for all that Sancho did, was to throw himself upon the body of his master, who, he believed, was actually dead, and utter the most doleful and ludicrous lamentation that ever was heard. The curate was immediately known by a brother of the cloth, who belonged to the procession; and this acquaintance dispelled the apprehension which both squadrons had begun to conceive. Our licentiate told his friend in a few words who Don Quixote was, upon which he and the whole crowd of disciplinants went to see whe ther or not the poor knight was dead, and heard Sancho Panza, with tears in his eyes, la menting in these words: "O! flower of chivalry, who, by the single stroke of a cudgel, hast finished the career of thy well-spent life! O! thou honour of thy family, thou glory of la Mancha, ay, and of the whole world; which, being deprived of thee, will soon be filled with evil-doers, who will prosper without fear of chastisement for their wicked deeds! Oh! thou wast more liberal than all the Alexanders that ever lived; for thou gavest me, for eight months service only, the best island that ever the sea surrounded. Oh! thou wast humble with the haughty, and haughty with the humble, tempting dangers, enduring disgraces in love without cause, imitating the good, scourging the wicked, a professed enemy to every thing that was base; in short, a knight-errant, and that is every thing in one word !"

The cries and groans of Sancho revived his master, and the first words he pronounced were these: "He who is condemned to live absent from thee, most amiable Dulcinea! is subjected to much greater hardships than these. Friend Sancho, help to lay me on the enchanted car, for I am incapable of pressing Rozinante's saddle, this whole shoulder being crushed to pieces.""That I'll do very willingly, dear master (replied the 'squire), and let us return to our own habitation, in company of these gentlemen, who

wish you well; and there we will lay a scheme for another sally, which, I hope, will be more fortunate and creditable."-" You are in the right, Sancho (replied Don Quixote), and it will be very prudent in us to let the malign influence of the stars pass over."

The canon, curate, and barber, approved of his intention, and, being extremely diverted with the 'squire's simplicity, conveyed the knight to his former situation in the waggon. The procession was formed anew, and set forwards accordingly; the goatherd took his leave of the company; the troopers being unwilling to go farther, were paid by the curate for their trouble; the canon having entreated the priest to inform him by letter of Don Quixote's fate, with regard to the continuation or cure of his extravagance, bade him farewell, and proceeded on his journey; in short, there was a general separation, till at length the curate, barber, Don Quixote, and Panza, were left by them selves, with the trusty Rozinante, who, with the patience of his master, bore and beheld every thing that passed.

The waggoner, yoking his oxen, accommodated the knight with a truss of hay, and with his usual phlegm jogged on according to the priest's directions, till, at the end of six days, they arrived at their own village, which they entered about noon; and it chancing to be Sunday, the market-place through which they were obliged to pass was crowded with people, who, running to see what was in the cage, recognized their townsman, and were struck with astonishment. A boy ran immediately to his housekeeper and niece, whom when he informed of their master's arrival, in a most meagre, withered condition, stretched upon a truss of hay, in a waggon; it was a piteous thing to hear the cries that were uttered by these worthy ladies, who buffeted themselves through vexation, and vented bitter curses against the wicked books of chivalry; which lamentations, buffetings, and curses, were repeated with greater violence than ever when they saw the knight enter his own gate.

Sancho Panza's wife, who had got intimation that he was gone with Don Quixote in quality of his 'squire, hearing of their return, ran straight to her husband, and the first question she asked was, Whether or not the ass was in good health? when the 'squire answered, that the ass was in better health than his master. "Thanks be to God (cried she), for that and all his other mer cies. But now tell me, friend, what good you have got by your 'squireship? Have you brought home a new petticoat for me, or shoes for your children?"-" I have brought no such matters, my dear (replied Sancho), but things of greater consideration and importance."-" I am glad of that, with all my heart (said the wife); pray shew me these things of greater consideration and importance, that the sight of them may re

joice my heart, which hath been so sad and discontented all the weary time of your being away."-" You shall see them at home (answered Sancho); and heark'e, wife, make yourself easy for the present; for an' it please God that we set out again in quest of adventures, you shall speedily behold your husband an earl, or governor of an island; I don't mean your common islands, but one of the best that ever was seen."-" The Lord in Heaven grant it, husband! for I am sure we have need enough of such windfalls; but tell me, what is an island, for truly, I know not the meaning of the word?"" Honey was not made for the mouth of an ass (said the 'squire); you shall see what it is, all in good time, my dear; ay, and admire to hear all your vassals call you my lady."-" What is that you say, Sancho, of ladies, islands, and vassals?” cried Joan Panza; for that was the name of the 'squire's wife, though she was not related to Sancho before marriage; but it is the custom in la Mancha for the women to take the names of their husbands. "Don't be in such a hurry to know every thing, Joan (replied the 'squire); it is sufficient that I tell thee nothing but truth; let this therefore stop that mouth of thine. Mean time, however, I care not if I tell thee, that it is one of the most pleasant occupations in the world for an honourable person, like me, to be 'squire to a knight-errant, when he is in quest of adventures. True it is, the greatest part of them do not fall out quite so much to one's liking as one could wish for, out of an hundred in which we are engaged, ninety-nine are generally cross and unfortunate. That I know by experience, having been sometimes threshed, and sometimes blanketted: but howsomever, it is a curious pastime to be always in expectation of adventures, crossing huge mountains, searching woods, climbing rocks, visiting castles, lodg ing at inns, where we live at rack and manger, and the devil a farthing to pay."

While this conversation passed between Sancho and his wife, the housekeeper and niece received Don Quixote, whom they undressed and put to bed in his old chamber, while he eyed them askance, without being able to comprehend where he was. The curate laid his injunctions on the niece to cherish her uncle with great tenderness, and charged them both to take especial care that he might not escape again, giving them an account of the trouble he had been at in bringing him back to his own house. Here they raised their voices again in concert, renewing their curses upon the books of chivalry, and beseeching Heaven to confound the authors of such madness and lies to the lowest pit of hell; in short, they were half distracted with the apprehension of losing him again as soon as his health should be re-established; and this was actually the case.

But the author of this history, although he