Don Quixote, then, having, as has been said, planted himself inthe middle of the road, made the welkin ring with words to thiseffect: "Ho ye travellers and wayfarers, knights, squires, folk onfoot or on horseback, who pass this way or shall pass in the course ofthe next two days! Know that Don Quixote of La Mancha,knight-errant, is posted here to maintain by arms that the beautyand courtesy enshrined in the nymphs that dwell in these meadows andgroves surpass all upon earth, putting aside the lady of my heart,Dulcinea del Toboso. Wherefore, let him who is of the opposite opinioncome on, for here I await him."
Twice he repeated the same words, and twice they fell unheard by anyadventurer; but fate, that was guiding affairs for him from betterto better, so ordered it that shortly afterwards there appeared on theroad a crowd of men on horseback, many of them with lances in theirhands, all riding in a compact body and in great haste. No soonerhad those who were with Don Quixote seen them than they turned aboutand withdrew to some distance from the road, for they knew that ifthey stayed some harm might come to them; but Don Quixote withintrepid heart stood his ground, and Sancho Panza shielded himselfwith Rocinante's hind-quarters. The troop of lancers came up, andone of them who was in advance began shouting to Don Quixote, "Get outof the way, you son of the devil, or these bulls will knock you topieces!"
"Rabble!" returned Don Quixote, "I care nothing for bulls, be theythe fiercest Jarama breeds on its banks. Confess at once,scoundrels, that what I have declared is true; else ye have to dealwith me in combat."
The herdsman had no time to reply, nor Don Quixote to get out of theway even if he wished; and so the drove of fierce bulls and tamebullocks, together with the crowd of herdsmen and others who weretaking them to be penned up in a village where they were to be run thenext day, passed over Don Quixote and over Sancho, Rocinante andDapple, hurling them all to the earth and rolling them over on theground. Sancho was left crushed, Don Quixote scared, Dapple belabouredand Rocinante in no very sound condition. They all got up, however, atlength, and Don Quixote in great haste, stumbling here and fallingthere, started off running after the drove, shouting out, "Hold! stay!ye rascally rabble, a single knight awaits you, and he is not of thetemper or opinion of those who say, 'For a flying enemy make abridge of silver.'" The retreating party in their haste, however,did not stop for that, or heed his menaces any more than last year'sclouds. Weariness brought Don Quixote to a halt, and more enraged thanavenged he sat down on the road to wait until Sancho, Rocinante andDapple came up. When they reached him master and man mounted oncemore, and without going back to bid farewell to the mock orimitation Arcadia, and more in humiliation than contentment, theycontinued their journey.CHAPTER LIX
WHEREIN IS RELATED THE STRANGE THING, WHICH MAY BE REGARDED AS ANADVENTURE, THAT HAPPENED DON QUIXOTE
A CLEAR limpid spring which they discovered in a cool grove relievedDon Quixote and Sancho of the dust and fatigue due to the unpolitebehaviour of the bulls, and by the side of this, having turnedDapple and Rocinante loose without headstall or bridle, the forlornpair, master and man, seated themselves. Sancho had recourse to thelarder of his alforjas and took out of them what he called the prog;Don Quixote rinsed his mouth and bathed his face, by which coolingprocess his flagging energies were revived. Out of pure vexation heremained without eating, and out of pure politeness Sancho did notventure to touch a morsel of what was before him, but waited for hismaster to act as taster. Seeing, however, that, absorbed in thought,he was forgetting to carry the bread to his mouth, he said never aword, and trampling every sort of good breeding under foot, began tostow away in his paunch the bread and cheese that came to his hand.
"Eat, Sancho my friend," said Don Quixote; "support life, which isof more consequence to thee than to me, and leave me to die underthe pain of my thoughts and pressure of my misfortunes. I was born,Sancho, to live dying, and thou to die eating; and to prove thetruth of what I say, look at me, printed in histories, famed inarms, courteous in behaviour, honoured by princes, courted by maidens;and after all, when I looked forward to palms, triumphs, and crowns,won and earned by my valiant deeds, I have this morning seen myselftrampled on, kicked, and crushed by the feet of unclean and filthyanimals. This thought blunts my teeth, paralyses my jaws, cramps myhands, and robs me of all appetite for food; so much so that I havea mind to let myself die of hunger, the cruelest death of all deaths."
"So then," said Sancho, munching hard all the time, "your worshipdoes not agree with the proverb that says, 'Let Martha die, but lether die with a full belly.' I, at any rate, have no mind to killmyself; so far from that, I mean to do as the cobbler does, whostretches the leather with his teeth until he makes it reach as far ashe wants. I'll stretch out my life by eating until it reaches theend heaven has fixed for it; and let me tell you, senor, there's nogreater folly than to think of dying of despair as your worshipdoes; take my advice, and after eating lie down and sleep a bit onthis green grass-mattress, and you will see that when you awake you'llfeel something better."
Don Quixote did as he recommended, for it struck him that Sancho'sreasoning was more like a philosopher's than a blockhead's, and saidhe, "Sancho, if thou wilt do for me what I am going to tell thee myease of mind would be more assured and my heaviness of heart not sogreat; and it is this; to go aside a little while I am sleeping inaccordance with thy advice, and, making bare thy carcase to the air,to give thyself three or four hundred lashes with Rocinante's reins,on account of the three thousand and odd thou art to give thyselffor the disenchantment of Dulcinea; for it is a great pity that thepoor lady should be left enchanted through thy carelessness andnegligence."
"There is a good deal to be said on that point," said Sancho; "letus both go to sleep now, and after that, God has decreed what willhappen. Let me tell your worship that for a man to whip himself incold blood is a hard thing, especially if the stripes fall upon anill-nourished and worse-fed body. Let my lady Dulcinea havepatience, and when she is least expecting it, she will see me made ariddle of with whipping, and 'until death it's all life;' I meanthat I have still life in me, and the desire to make good what Ihave promised."
Don Quixote thanked him, and ate a little, and Sancho a good deal,and then they both lay down to sleep, leaving those two inseparablefriends and comrades, Rocinante and Dapple, to their own devices andto feed unrestrained upon the abundant grass with which the meadow wasfurnished. They woke up rather late, mounted once more and resumedtheir journey, pushing on to reach an inn which was in sight,apparently a league off. I say an inn, because Don Quixote called itso, contrary to his usual practice of calling all inns castles. Theyreached it, and asked the landlord if they could put up there. He saidyes, with as much comfort and as good fare as they could find inSaragossa. They dismounted, and Sancho stowed away his larder in aroom of which the landlord gave him the key. He took the beasts to thestable, fed them, and came back to see what orders Don Quixote, whowas seated on a bench at the door, had for him, giving specialthanks to heaven that this inn had not been taken for a castle byhis master. Supper-time came, and they repaired to their room, andSancho asked the landlord what he had to give them for supper. To thisthe landlord replied that his mouth should be the measure; he had onlyto ask what he would; for that inn was provided with the birds ofthe air and the fowls of the earth and the fish of the sea.
"There's no need of all that," said Sancho; "if they'll roast us acouple of chickens we'll be satisfied, for my master is delicate andeats little, and I'm not over and above gluttonous."
The landlord replied he had no chickens, for the kites had stolenthem.
"Well then," said Sancho, "let senor landlord tell them to roast apullet, so that it is a tender one."
"Pullet! My father!" said the landlord; "indeed and in truth it'sonly yesterday I sent over fifty to the city to sell; but savingpullets ask what you will."
"In that case," said Sancho, "you will not be without veal or kid."
"Just now," said the landlord, "there's none in the house, forit's all finished; but next week there will he enough and to spare."
"Much good that does us," said Sancho; "I'll lay a bet that allthese short-comings are going to wind up in plenty of bacon and eggs."
"By God," said the landlord, "my guest's wits must he precious dull;I tell him I have neither pullets nor hens, and he wants me to haveeggs! Talk of other dainties, if you please, and don't ask for hensagain."
"Body o' me!" said Sancho, "let's settle the matter; say at oncewhat you have got, and let us have no more words about it."
"In truth and earnest, senor guest," said the landlord, "all Ihave is a couple of cow-heels like calves' feet, or a couple ofcalves' feet like cowheels; they are boiled with chick-peas, onions,and bacon, and at this moment they are crying 'Come eat me, come eatme."