"I take the invitation as a great favour and honour, Senor DonDiego," replied Don Quixote; and pressing forward at a better pacethan before, at about two in the afternoon they reached the villageand house of Don Diego, or, as Don Quixote called him, "The Knightof the Green Gaban."CHAPTER XVIII
OF WHAT HAPPENED DON QUIXOTE IN THE CASTLE OR HOUSE OF THE KNIGHT OFTHE GREEN GABAN, TOGETHER WITH OTHER MATTERS OUT OF THE COMMON
DON QUIXOTE found Don Diego de Miranda's house built in villagestyle, with his arms in rough stone over the street door; in the patiowas the store-room, and at the entrance the cellar, with plenty ofwine-jars standing round, which, coming from El Toboso, brought backto his memory his enchanted and transformed Dulcinea; and with a sigh,and not thinking of what he was saying, or in whose presence he was,he exclaimed-
"O ye sweet treasures, to my sorrow found!
Once sweet and welcome when 'twas heaven's good-will.O ye Tobosan jars, how ye bring back to my memory the sweet objectof my bitter regrets!"
The student poet, Don Diego's son, who had come out with hismother to receive him, heard this exclamation, and both mother and sonwere filled with amazement at the extraordinary figure he presented;he, however, dismounting from Rocinante, advanced with greatpoliteness to ask permission to kiss the lady's hand, while DonDiego said, "Senora, pray receive with your wonted kindness SenorDon Quixote of La Mancha, whom you see before you, a knight-errant,and the bravest and wisest in the world."
The lady, whose name was Dona Christina, received him with everysign of good-will and great courtesy, and Don Quixote placed himselfat her service with an abundance of well-chosen and polishedphrases. Almost the same civilities were exchanged between him and thestudent, who listening to Don Quixote, took him to be a sensible,clear-headed person.
Here the author describes minutely everything belonging to DonDiego's mansion, putting before us in his picture the whole contentsof a rich gentleman-farmer's house; but the translator of thehistory thought it best to pass over these and other details of thesame sort in silence, as they are not in harmony with the main purposeof the story, the strong point of which is truth rather than dulldigressions.
They led Don Quixote into a room, and Sancho removed his armour,leaving him in loose Walloon breeches and chamois-leather doublet, allstained with the rust of his armour; his collar was a falling one ofscholastic cut, without starch or lace, his buskins buff-coloured, andhis shoes polished. He wore his good sword, which hung in a baldric ofsea-wolf's skin, for he had suffered for many years, they say, from anailment of the kidneys; and over all he threw a long cloak of goodgrey cloth. But first of all, with five or six buckets of water （foras regard the number of buckets there is some dispute）， he washedhis head and face, and still the water remained whey-coloured,thanks to Sancho's greediness and purchase of those unlucky curds thatturned his master so white. Thus arrayed, and with an easy, sprightly,and gallant air, Don Quixote passed out into another room, where thestudent was waiting to entertain him while the table was being laid;for on the arrival of so distinguished a guest, Dona Christina wasanxious to show that she knew how and was able to give a becomingreception to those who came to her house.
While Don Quixote was taking off his armour, Don Lorenzo （for so DonDiego's son was called） took the opportunity to say to his father,"What are we to make of this gentleman you have brought home to us,sir? For his name, his appearance, and your describing him as aknight-errant have completely puzzled my mother and me."
"I don't know what to say, my son," replied. Don Diego; "all I cantell thee is that I have seen him act the acts of the greatestmadman in the world, and heard him make observations so sensiblethat they efface and undo all he does; do thou talk to him and feelthe pulse of his wits, and as thou art shrewd, form the mostreasonable conclusion thou canst as to his wisdom or folly; though, totell the truth, I am more inclined to take him to be mad than sane."
With this Don Lorenzo went away to entertain Don Quixote as has beensaid, and in the course of the conversation that passed between themDon Quixote said to Don Lorenzo, "Your father, Senor Don Diego deMiranda, has told me of the rare abilities and subtle intellect youpossess, and, above all, that you are a great poet."
"A poet, it may be," replied Don Lorenzo, "but a great one, by nomeans. It is true that I am somewhat given to poetry and to readinggood poets, but not so much so as to justify the title of 'great'which my father gives me."
"I do not dislike that modesty," said Don Quixote; "for there isno poet who is not conceited and does not think he is the best poet inthe world."
"There is no rule without an exception," said Don Lorenzo; "theremay be some who are poets and yet do not think they are."
"Very few," said Don Quixote; "but tell me, what verses are thosewhich you have now in hand, and which your father tells me keep yousomewhat restless and absorbed? If it be some gloss, I knowsomething about glosses, and I should like to hear them; and if theyare for a poetical tournament, contrive to carry off the second prize;for the first always goes by favour or personal standing, the secondby simple justice; and so the third comes to be the second, and thefirst, reckoning in this way, will be third, in the same way aslicentiate degrees are conferred at the universities; but, for allthat, the title of first is a great distinction."
"So far," said Don Lorenzo to himself, "I should not take you tobe a madman; but let us go on." So he said to him, "Your worship hasapparently attended the schools; what sciences have you studied?"
"That of knight-errantry," said Don Quixote, "which is as good asthat of poetry, and even a finger or two above it."
"I do not know what science that is," said Don Lorenzo, "and untilnow I have never heard of it."
"It is a science," said Don Quixote, "that comprehends in itself allor most of the sciences in the world, for he who professes it mustbe a jurist, and must know the rules of justice, distributive andequitable, so as to give to each one what belongs to him and is due tohim. He must be a theologian, so as to be able to give a clear anddistinctive reason for the Christian faith he professes, wherever itmay be asked of him. He must be a physician, and above all aherbalist, so as in wastes and solitudes to know the herbs that havethe property of healing wounds, for a knight-errant must not golooking for some one to cure him at every step. He must be anastronomer, so as to know by the stars how many hours of the nighthave passed, and what clime and quarter of the world he is in. He mustknow mathematics, for at every turn some occasion for them willpresent itself to him; and, putting it aside that he must be adornedwith all the virtues, cardinal and theological, to come down tominor particulars, he must, I say, be able to swim as well as Nicholasor Nicolao the Fish could, as the story goes; he must know how to shoea horse, and repair his saddle and bridle; and, to return to highermatters, he must be faithful to God and to his lady; he must be purein thought, decorous in words, generous in works, valiant in deeds,patient in suffering, compassionate towards the needy, and, lastly, anupholder of the truth though its defence should cost him his life.Of all these qualities, great and small, is a true knight-errantmade up; judge then, Senor Don Lorenzo, whether it be a contemptiblescience which the knight who studies and professes it has to learn,and whether it may not compare with the very loftiest that aretaught in the schools."
"If that be so," replied Don Lorenzo, "this science, I protest,surpasses all."
"How, if that be so?" said Don Quixote.
"What I mean to say," said Don Lorenzo, "is, that I doubt whetherthere are now, or ever were, any knights-errant, and adorned with suchvirtues."
"Many a time," replied Don Quixote, "have I said what I now say oncemore, that the majority of the world are of opinion that there neverwere any knights-errant in it; and as it is my opinion that, unlessheaven by some miracle brings home to them the truth that there wereand are, all the pains one takes will be in vain （as experience hasoften proved to me）， I will not now stop to disabuse you of theerror you share with the multitude. All I shall do is to pray toheaven to deliver you from it, and show you how beneficial andnecessary knights-errant were in days of yore, and how useful theywould be in these days were they but in vogue; but now, for the sinsof the people, sloth and indolence, gluttony and luxury aretriumphant."
"Our guest has broken out on our hands," said Don Lorenzo to himselfat this point; "but, for all that, he is a glorious madman, and Ishould be a dull blockhead to doubt it."
Here, being summoned to dinner, they brought their colloquy to aclose. Don Diego asked his son what he had been able to make out as tothe wits of their guest. To which he replied, "All the doctors andclever scribes in the world will not make sense of the scrawl of hismadness; he is a madman full of streaks, full of lucid intervals."