on when I have time, convenience, and inclination, to make free with my own flesh."-" God grant thou mayest (said Don Quixote): and Heaven give thee grace to understand and be sensible of the obligation thou liest under to assist my mistress, who, as thou art mine, is thine also."

fortune. Under the shade of a tree, as we have already observed, did he remain, and there he was stung with reflections that swarmed like flies about honey; some dwelling upon the disenchantment of Dulcinea, and others revolving plans for the life he was to lead in his compulsive retirement. When Sancho joined him, and began to expatiate upon the liberal disposition of Tosilos, "Is it possible, O Sancho (said the knight), that thou still believest that man to be the individual lacquey? One would think thou hadst forgot that thy own eyes have seen Dulcinea converted and transformed into a country wench, and the Knight of the Mirrors into the bachelor Carrasco, by the wicked arts of those enchanters who persecute my virtue. But, tell me now, didst thou ask Tosilos how Providence hath disposed of Altisidora? hath she bewailed my absence, or already consigned to oblivion those amorous thoughts by which she was tormented during my residence at the castle?"-" My thoughts (answered Sancho), were not such as allowed me to ask these childish questions. Body o' me! signor, is your worship at present in a condition to inquire about other people's thoughts, especially those you call amorous?"-" Sancho (said the knight), you must consider there is a wide difference between the suggestions of love and those of gratitude; a gentleman may very well be insensible to love; but, strictly speaking, he can never be ungrateful. Altisidora, in all appearance, loved me to distraction; she, as thou very well knowest, made me a present of three night-caps; she bewailed my departure, loaded me with curses and reproach, and, in spite of maiden shame, complained of me in public,-undoubted proofs of my being the object of her adoration; for the indignation of lovers usually vents itself in maledictions. I had no hopes to give, nor treasures to offer; all my affections are yielded to Dulcinea; and the treasures of knights-errant are, like those of the fairies, altogether phantom and illusion; all, therefore, that I can return, is a kind remembrance, without prejudice, however, to the memory of Dulcinea, who is greatly aggrieved by thy remissness in delaying to scourge and chastise that flesh which I hope will be a prey to the wolves; seeing thou seemest more inclined to reserve it for the worms, than to use it in behalf of that poor distressed lady.""Signor (answered the 'squire), if the truth must be told, I cannot persuade myself that the whipping of my posteriors can have any effect in disenchanting those who are enchanted, no more than if we should anoint the shins to cure the head-ache: at least, I will venture to swear, that in all the histories your worship has read concerning knight-errantry, you have never found that any person was disenchanted by such a whipping: but be that as it may, I will lay it

With such conversation they amused themselves in travelling, until they arrived at the very spot where they had been overturned by the bulls; when Don Quixote recognizing the ground, "This is the meadow (said he), where we met the gay shepherdesses and gallant swains, who sought to renew and re-act the pastoral Arcadia, a project equally original and ingenious; in imitation of which, shouldst thou approve of the scheme, we will assume the garb and employment of shepherds during the term of our retirement. I will purchase some sheep, together with all the necessary implements of a pastoral life, and taking the name of Quixotiz, while thou shalt bear that of the swain Pancino, we will stroll about through mountains, woods, and meadows, singing here, lamenting there, drinking liquid crystal from the gelid springs, the limpid rills, and mighty rivers. The lofty oaks will shed upon us abundance of their delightful fruit; the trunks of hardest cork trees will yield us seats; the willows will afford us shade; the rose perfume; the extended meadow carpets of a thousand dyes; the pure serenity of air will give us breath; the moon and stars will grant us light in spite of darkness; our singing will inspire delight; our lamentations mirth; Apollo, verses; and Love himself conceits to render us immortal and renowned, not only in the present age, but also to the latest posterity."-" Odds tens! (cried Sancho), such a life will square, ay, and be the very corner-stone of my wishes: the bachelor Sampson Carrasco, and master Nicholas the barber, as soon as they have a glimpse of it, will wish to join us in the scheme, and turn shepherds for our company; and God grant that the cu rate himself may not take it in his head to enter the fold: for he is a merry companion, and a great friend to good fellowship." "Thou hast a very good notion (said the knight); and if the bachelor shall be inclined to join our pastoral association, as he doubtless will, he may take the appellation of the shepherd Sansonino, or of the swain Carrascon: Nicholas the barber may be called Niculoso, as old Boscan called himself Nemoroso: and as for the curate, I know not what title we can confer upon him, except some derivative from his own name, such as the shepherd Curiambro. For the nymphs of whom we must be enamoured, there is plenty of names to choose; but seeing that of my mistress will suit as well with a shepherdess as with a princess, I need not give myself the trouble to invent any other that might

be more proper; as for thee, Sancho, thou mayest give thy mistress what appellation will please thy own fancy."-" I have no intention (replied the 'squire), to give her any other than that of Teresona, which will fit her fatness to a hair, as well as be agreeable to her own name Teresa; especially as in celebrating her in verse, I shall disclose my chaste desires, without going in search of fine bread in a neighbour's house; the curate would be in the wrong to choose a shepherdess, because he ought to set a good example to his flock; and as for the bachelor, if he has any such inclination, let him please his own soul, without let or control."

66

"Good Heaven! friend Sancho (said Don Quixote), what a life we shall lead! how will our ears be regaled with pipes and bagpipes of Zamora, tambourines, timbrels, and rebecs! and if these different kinds of music be reinforced with the sound of the albogues, we shall have a full concert of all the pastoral instruments."-" And pray, what are the albogues? (said Sancho), I never saw nor heard them named before in the whole course of my life." Albogues (answered the knight), are plates of brass resembling candlesticks, the hollow parts of which being clashed together, produce a sound, if not ravishing or harmonious, at least not disagreeable, nor unsuited to the rusticity of the bagpipe and tabor. The name of albogues is Moorish, as are all the words in our language beginning with al; for example, Almoaca, Almorcar, Älhombra, Alguazil, Álucima, Almacen, Alcanzia, and a few others; and we have only three Moorish words ending in i, namely, Borcegui, Zaquicami, and Maravedi; as for Altheli and Alfaqui, they are known to be Arabic, as well from their beginning with al, as for their ending in i; these observations I have made by the bye, in consequence of having mentioned albogues, which recalled them to my remembrance. But to return to our scheme; nothing will conduce so much to the perfection of it as my having a talent for versification, as thou very well knowest, and the bachelor's being an excellent poet. Of the curate I shall say nothing; though I would lay a good wager that his collars and points are truly poetical; and that my master Nicholas is in the same fashion I do not at all doubt; for people of his profession are famous for making ballads and playing on the guitar. For my own part I will complain of absence: thou wilt extol the constancy of thy own love; the swain Carracon will lament the disdain of his mistress; the curate Curiambro choose his own subject; and every thing proceed in such a manner as to fulfil the warmest wishes."

To this effusion Sancho replied, "Verily, signor, I am such an unlucky wretch, that I am afraid the time will never come when I shall see myself in that blessed occupation. O what

delicate wooden spoons shall I make when I am a shepherd! O what crumbs and cream shall I devour! O what garlands and pastoral nick-nacks shall I contrive! and though these may not, perhaps, add much to my reputation for wisdom, they will not fail to convince the world of my ingenuity. My daughter Sanchica shall bring our victuals to the fold; but, 'ware mischief! the wench is buxom: and there are some shepherds more knavish than simple: I would not have her come out for wool and go home shorn. Those same amours and unruly desires are gratified in the open field as well as in the city-chamber, in a shepherd's cot as well as in a royal palace. The sin will cease when the temptation is removed: The heart will not grieve for what the eye does not perceive; and what prayers ne'er can gain, a leap from an hedge will obtain."-" No more of your proverbs, Sancho (said Don Quixote); any one of these thou hast repeated is sufficient to explain thy meaning; and I have often exhorted thee to be less prodigal of old saws, and keep them more under command: but I see it is like preaching to the desert: and My mother whips me, and I scourge the top."-" Under correction (an swered the 'squire), your worship, methinks, is like the frying-pan which called to the pot, Avaunt, black-a-moor, avaunt! Even in the very act of rebuking me for uttering proverbs, your worship strings them together in pairs." "But then, you must consider, Sancho (said Don Quixote), that when I use them, they are seasonably brought in, and fit the purpose as the ring fits the finger: whereas, by thee they are not brought in, but lugged in as it were by the head and shoulders. If my memory fails me not, I have formerly told thee, that pro verbs are short sentences extracted from the ex perience and speculation of ancient sages; and a proverb unseasonably introduced is rather an absurdity than a judicious apothegm. But let us quit the subject, and, as the day is already spent, retire from the highway to some place where we may pass the night; for God alone knows what will be to-morrow."

of

They accordingly retired to a grove, where they made a late and very indifferent supper, the no small mortification of Sancho, who ru fully reflected upon the meagre commons chivalry, so uncomfortably discussed among woods and mountains: though his imagination was also regaled with the remembrance of that abundance which he had enjoyed at the castle, as well as at the wedding of the rich Camacho, and in the houses of Don Diego de Miranda, and Don Antonio de Moreno: but, finally, considering it could not be always day, or al ways night, he resolved for the present to sleep, while his master indulged his contem plations awake.

།

CHAP. XVI.

derstand; but well I know, that while I sleep I am troubled neither with fear nor hope, nor

was involved.

THE night was a little dark; for although the moon was in the heavens, she was invisible to the people of our hemisphere, Madam Diana having taken a trip to the antipodes, and left our mountains obumbrated, and our valleys obscured. Don Quixote, in compliance with nature, enjoyed his first sleep, without indulging himself in a second, quite contrary to the practice of Sancho, who never desired a second, because the first always lasted from night till morning, a sure sign of little care and an excellent constitution. As for the knight, his cares interfered so much with his repose, that he wakened his 'squire, to whom he said, "I am amazed, Sancho, at the indiffe: ence of thy disposition, and imagine thou art made of marble or obdurate brass, unsusceptible of sentiment or emotion. I watch whilst thou art snoring; I weep whilst thou art singing; I faint with fasting, whilst thou art overloaded and out of breath with eating! It is the province of a good servant to sympathize with his master's pain, and to share his anguish, even for the sake of decorum. Observe the serenity of the sky and the solitude of the place, which invite us to make an intermission in our repose. I conjure thee by thy life to rise and go aside to some proper place, where, with good-will and grateful inclination, thou mayest conveniently inflict upon thyself three or four hundred stripes, on account of Dulcinea's enchantment; and this favour I humbly request, without any intention to try again the strength of thine arms, which I know to be heavy and robust: after the performance of that task, we will pass the remainder of the night in harmony; I in singing the torments of absence, and thou in chanting the constancy of thy passion; and thus will we begin the pastoral life which we are to lead at our own village."—" Signor (answered the 'squire), I am no monk to rise and discipline my flesh in the middle of the night; nor do I think the extremity of pain is such a provocative to music: I therefore desire your worship will let me take out my nap, without pressing me farther to Scourge myself, lest I should grow desperate, and solemnly swear never to whip the nap of my garment, much less an hair of my skin.""Soul of a savage! flinty-hearted 'squire! (cried Don Quixote): O ill-bestowed bread! O ill-requited benefits, intended or conferred! By my means wast thou created governor; and through me alone dost thou now enjoy the near prospect of being a count, or something else of equal title; nor will the accomplishment of thy wishes be retarded longer than the term of one fleeting year; for, Post tenebras spero lucem.""Your conclusion (said Sancho), I do not un

VOL. III.

vented sleep, which is the mantle that shrouds all human thoughts; the food that dispels hunger; the drink that quenches thirst; the fire that warms the cold; the cool breeze that moderates heat; in a word, the general coin that purchases every commodity; the weight and balance that makes the shepherd even with his sovereign, and the simple with the sage there is only one bad circumstance, as I have heard, in sleep; it resembles death; inasmuch as between a dead corpse and a sleeping man there is no apparent difference."-" Truly, Sancho (said the knight), I never heard thee talk so elegantly before, whence I perceive the truth of the proverb which thou hast often repeated, Not he with whom you was bred, but he by whom you are fed."-" Odds my life! sir master of mine (cried Sancho), I am not the only person who strings proverbs: they fall from your worship's mouth in couples, faster than from mine; indeed there is some difference; for your worship's proverbs come at a proper time, whereas mine are always out of season; but, neverthe less, they are all proverbs."

The

Thus far the conversation had proceeded, when they heard a dull confused noise, intermingled with very harsh sounds, that seemed to extend through the whole valley. knight immediately started up and unsheathed his sword; while the 'squire squatted_down under Dapple, fencing himself on each side with his master's armour and the pannel of the ass, being as much afraid as Don Quixote was astonished; for the noise increased every moment as the cause of it approached the two tremblers, or rather one trembler, for the other's valour and courage are well known. The case, in fact, was this:-Some dealers were driving about six hundred hogs to a fair, and, as they travelled in the night, the noise of their feet, together with their grunting and blowing, made such a din as almost deafened Don Quixote and Sancho, who could not conceive the meaning of such an uproar. Meanwhile, the numerous grunting herd advanced, and without shewing the least respect to the authority of Don Quixote or Sancho, ran over them in a twinkling, demolished the barricadoes of the 'squire, and trampled down not only the master, but also his steed Rozinante; the thronging, the grunting, and the hurry of those unclean animals, throwing every thing in confusion, and strewing the master and the man, the horse and the ass, the pannel and the armour, along the ground. Sancho getting up as well as he could, demanded his master's sword, in order to sacrifice half a dozen of these discourteous gentlemen porkers; for by this time he had discovered what they were: but the knight refused to grant his request, saying," Let them pass, friend Sancho;

2 Y

this affront is the punishment of my crime; and the just chastisement of Heaven inflicted upon a vanquished knight is, that he should be devoured by dogs, stung by wasps, and trampled upon by swine.' "At that rate then (replied the 'squire), the chastisement which Heaven inflicts upon 'squires of vanquished knights-errant is, that they shall be bitten by fleas, devoured by lice, and assaulted by famine: if we 'squires were sons of the knights we serve, or even their near relations, it would be no great wonder if the punishment of their faults should overtake us to the fourth generation: but what affinity is there between the Panzas and the Quixotes? At present let us put things to rights again, so that we may sleep out the remainder of the night, and we shall be in better plight when God sends us a new day."-" Enjoy thy repose (said Don Quixote); thou wast born to sleep and I to watch; and during the little of night that remains, I will give my thoughts the rein, and cool the furnace of my reflections with a short madrigal, which I have this evening, unknown to thee, composed in my own mind.""In my opinion (answered the 'squire), your thoughts could not be very troublesome and unruly, if they gave you leisure to make couplets; but, however, your worship may couple as many as you please, and I will sleep as much as I can. So saying, he chose his ground, on which he huddled himself up, and enjoyed a most profound sleep, which received no interruption from the remembrance of debt, surety, or any other grievance. As for Don Quixote, he leaned against a beech or cork tree; for Cid Hamet Benengeli has not distinguished the genus; and to the music of his own sighs sung the following stanzas:

O cruel love! when I endure
The dreadful vengeance of thy bow,
I fly to death, the only cure
For such immensity of woe.

But, when I touch the peaceful goal,
The port secure from storms of strife,
The sight revives my drooping soul,
I cannot enter for my life.

Thus life exhausts my vital flame,
But death still keeps the spark alive;
O wondrous fate! unknown to fame!
That life should kill, and death revive.

Every verse he accompanied with a multitude of sighs, and a torrent of tears, as if his heart had been transpierced with grief for his overthrow and the absence of Dulcinea. In this situation he was found by the day, when Phobus darting his rays into Sancho's eyes, the 'squire awoke, yawned, turned, stretched his lazy limbs, and surveying the havoc which the swine had made in his store, he bitterly cursed

the whole herd; ay, and even went farther with his maledictions.

Then the two proceeded in their journey, and towards the close of the afternoon descried about ten men on horseback, and half that number on foot, advancing towards them,-a sight which made the knight's heart throb with surprise, and the 'squire's with terror; for this company was armed with lance and target, and approached in a very hostile manner. Don Quixote turning to his 'squire, "Sancho (said he), if I could now exercise my arms, and my hands were not tied by a solemn promise, I would look upon that machine which comes upon us with contempt, as so much cake and gingerbread; but perhaps it may be something else than we apprehend." He had scarce pronounced these words, when the horsemen coming up, and couching their lances, surrounded him in a trice; then clapping the points of their weapons to his back and breast, seemed to threaten immediate death and destruction; while one of those on foot, laying his finger on his mouth as a signal for him to be silent, seized Rozinante's bridle, and led him out of the highway. The rest of the footpads drove Sancho and Dapple before them, and while a wonderful silence prevailed, followed the knight, who attempted twice or thrice to ask whither they conducted him, and what they wanted; but scarce had he begun to move his lips, when they threatened to shut them for ever with the points of their spears. The same menaces were prac tised upon Sancho, who no sooner expressed a desire to be talking, than he was pricked in the posteriors with a goad by one of his attendants; and Dapple met with the same fate, as if he too had made a motion to speak, like his master.

As night approached they quickened their pace, and the terrors of the captives increased in proportion as the darkness deepened, especially as their guard pronounced from time to time, "Despatch, ye Troglodytes! silence, ye barbarians! now ye shall suffer, ye anthropo phagi! not a word of complaint, ye Scythians! open not your eyes, ye murderous Polyphemuses! ye carnivorous lions and beasts of prey." With these and other such appellations, they tormented the ears of the miserable master and the forlorn Sancho, who said within himself, "Draggle doits! Barber Anns! Henry puff a jay! City hens! and Paulfamouses! these are fine names with a vengeance! I'm afraid this is a bad wind for winnowing our corn! the mischief comes upon us altogether, like drubbing to a dog; and I wish this misventurous adventure, that threatens so dismally, may end in nothing worse!" As for Don Quixote he was utterly astonished and confounded; nor could he, with all his reflection, comprehend the meaning of his own captivity, and those reproachful terms, from which he could only conclude that no good, but a great deal of mischief,

CHAP. XVII.

Of the most singular and strange adventure that happened to Don Quixote in the whole course of this sublime history.

THE horsemen alighting, with the assistance of those who were on foot, snatched up the bodies of Don Quixote and Sancho, and carried them hastily into the court of the castle, round which above a hundred flaming torches were placed, and the corridores of the court were illuminated by five hundred tapers, shining with such a blaze, that, in spite of the night, which was dark, there was no want of the day. In the middle of the court appeared a monument raised about two yards from the ground, and covered with a spacious canopy of black velvet; and, upon the steps that led up to it, above an hundred tapers of virgin wax stood burning in silver candlesticks. On the tomb lay the body of a young damsel, whose beauty was such as rendered death itself beautiful: her head was raised on a cushion of brocade, and crowned with a garland of various odoriferous flowers; and in her hands, that were crossed upon her breast, appeared a bough of green victorious palm. On one side of the court was erected a theatre, on which were seated two personages whom their crowns and sceptres declared to be either real or fictitious kings; and hard by the theatre, which was furnished with steps, two other chairs, upon which Don Quixote and Sancho were seated by their captors, who still maintained their former silence, the observance of which they likewise recommended by signs to our hero and his 'squire; though these injunctions were altogether superfluous; for their astonishment at what they saw had effectually tied their tongues; and, indeed, how could they help being astonished at sight of this apparatus, considering too, that by this time the knight had discovered the dead body on the tomb to be no other than the beauteous Altisidora? At this juncture, two noble personages, with a numerous retinue, ascended the theatre, and seat

ed themselves in magnificent chairs, hard by the figures that were crowned; then Don Quixote and Sancho, perceiving the new comers to be their former entertainers, the duke and duchess, rose up and bowed with great veneration; and their graces, rising also, returned the compliment with a slight inclination of the head. And now an officer crossing the court, and approaching Sancho, threw over him a robe of black buckram, painted all over with flames of fire; at the same time pulling off his cap, he put upon his head one of those pasteboard mitres which are worn by the penitents of the holy office; and in a whisper advised him to keep his lips sewed together, unless he had a mind to be gagged or put to death without mercy. Sancho surveyed himself from head to foot, and saw his robe in flames; but as they did not burn, he valued them not a farthing; he then took off his mitre, and perceiving it figured with pictures of fiends, set it on his head again, saying to himself, "As the flames do not burn, and the fiends do not fly away with me, I am very well satisfied." Don Quixote likewise surveyed the 'squire, and, although his reflection was still disturbed with fear and suspense, could not help smiling at the ludicrous figure.

Sancho being thus equipped, a low yet agreeable sound of flutes seemed to issue from beneath the tomb, and being uninterrupted by any human voice, for here silence itself kept silence, produced a very soft and pleasing melody. Then all of a sudden a beautiful youth, in a Roman habit, appeared close by the cushion on which the seemingly dead body reposed, and to the sound of the harp on which he himself played, with a sweet harmonious voice he sung the two following stanzas:

Till fair Altisidora, slain
By Quixote's cruelty, return;

And all the enchanted female train
Her hapless fute in sackcloth mourn ;
Until duennas clad in bays
Appear in presence of her grace,

I'll celebrate the nymph in lays
That would not shame the bard of Thrace.

Nor shall thy beauty fade unsung,
When life forsakes my gelid veins;

My clay-cold lips and frozen tongue
In death shall raise immortal strains.
My soul, when freed from cumb'rous clay,
Her flight o'er Stygian waves shall take;

And while on Lethe's banks I stray,
My song shall charm th' oblivious lake.

Here he was interrupted by one of the two pretended kings, who said, "Enough, divine songster; it would be an infinite task to describe the death and beauties of the peerless Altisidora, not dead, as the ignorant world imagines, but alive in the voice of fame, and in