"Then what the devil brought you here, being a churchman?" saidDon Quixote.
"What, senor?" said the other. "My bad luck."
"Then still worse awaits you," said Don Quixote, "if you do notsatisfy me as to all I asked you at first."
"You shall be soon satisfied," said the licentiate; "you mustknow, then, that though just now I said I was a licentiate, I amonly a bachelor, and my name is Alonzo Lopez; I am a native ofAlcobendas, I come from the city of Baeza with eleven others, priests,the same who fled with the torches, and we are going to the city ofSegovia accompanying a dead body which is in that litter, and isthat of a gentleman who died in Baeza, where he was interred; and now,as I said, we are taking his bones to their burial-place, which isin Segovia, where he was born."
"And who killed him?" asked Don Quixote.
"God, by means of a malignant fever that took him," answered thebachelor.
"In that case," said Don Quixote, "the Lord has relieved me of thetask of avenging his death had any other slain him; but, he who slewhim having slain him, there is nothing for it but to be silent, andshrug one's shoulders; I should do the same were he to slay myself;and I would have your reverence know that I am a knight of LaMancha, Don Quixote by name, and it is my business and calling to roamthe world righting wrongs and redressing injuries."
"I do not know how that about righting wrongs can be," said thebachelor, "for from straight you have made me crooked, leaving me witha broken leg that will never see itself straight again all the days ofits life; and the injury you have redressed in my case has been toleave me injured in such a way that I shall remain injured for ever;and the height of misadventure it was to fall in with you who go insearch of adventures."
"Things do not all happen in the same way," answered Don Quixote;"it all came, Sir Bachelor Alonzo Lopez, of your going, as you did, bynight, dressed in those surplices, with lighted torches, praying,covered with mourning, so that naturally you looked like somethingevil and of the other world; and so I could not avoid doing my duty inattacking you, and I should have attacked you even had I knownpositively that you were the very devils of hell, for such I certainlybelieved and took you to be."
"As my fate has so willed it," said the bachelor, "I entreat you,sir knight-errant, whose errand has been such an evil one for me, tohelp me to get from under this mule that holds one of my legs caughtbetween the stirrup and the saddle."
"I would have talked on till to-morrow," said Don Quixote; "how longwere you going to wait before telling me of your distress?"
He at once called to Sancho, who, however, had no mind to come, ashe was just then engaged in unloading a sumpter mule, well ladenwith provender, which these worthy gentlemen had brought with them.Sancho made a bag of his coat, and, getting together as much as hecould, and as the bag would hold, he loaded his beast, and thenhastened to obey his master's call, and helped him to remove thebachelor from under the mule; then putting him on her back he gave himthe torch, and Don Quixote bade him follow the track of hiscompanions, and beg pardon of them on his part for the wrong whichhe could not help doing them.
And said Sancho, "If by chance these gentlemen should want to knowwho was the hero that served them so, your worship may tell themthat he is the famous Don Quixote of La Mancha, otherwise called theKnight of the Rueful Countenance."
The bachelor then took his departure.
I forgot to mention that before he did so he said to Don Quixote,"Remember that you stand excommunicated for having laid violenthands on a holy thing, juxta illud, si quis, suadente diabolo."
"I do not understand that Latin," answered Don Quixote, "but Iknow well I did not lay hands, only this pike; besides, I did notthink I was committing an assault upon priests or things of theChurch, which, like a Catholic and faithful Christian as I am, Irespect and revere, but upon phantoms and spectres of the other world;but even so, I remember how it fared with Cid Ruy Diaz when he brokethe chair of the ambassador of that king before his Holiness the Pope,who excommunicated him for the same; and yet the good Roderick ofVivar bore himself that day like a very noble and valiant knight."
On hearing this the bachelor took his departure, as has been said,without making any reply; and Don Quixote asked Sancho what hadinduced him to call him the "Knight of the Rueful Countenance" morethen than at any other time.
"I will tell you," answered Sancho; "it was because I have beenlooking at you for some time by the light of the torch held by thatunfortunate, and verily your worship has got of late the mostill-favoured countenance I ever saw: it must be either owing to thefatigue of this combat, or else to the want of teeth and grinders."
"It is not that," replied Don Quixote, "but because the sage whoseduty it will be to write the history of my achievements must havethought it proper that I should take some distinctive name as allknights of yore did; one being 'He of the Burning Sword,' another'He of the Unicorn,' this one 'He of the Damsels,' that 'He of thePhoenix,' another 'The Knight of the Griffin,' and another 'He ofthe Death,' and by these names and designations they were known allthe world round; and so I say that the sage aforesaid must have put itinto your mouth and mind just now to call me 'The Knight of the RuefulCountenance,' as I intend to call myself from this day forward; andthat the said name may fit me better, I mean, when the opportunityoffers, to have a very rueful countenance painted on my shield."
"There is no occasion, senor, for wasting time or money on makingthat countenance," said Sancho; "for all that need be done is for yourworship to show your own, face to face, to those who look at you,and without anything more, either image or shield, they will callyou 'Him of the Rueful Countenance' and believe me I am telling youthe truth, for I assure you, senor （and in good part be it said），hunger and the loss of your grinders have given you such anill-favoured face that, as I say, the rueful picture may be verywell spared."
Don Quixote laughed at Sancho's pleasantry; nevertheless he resolvedto call himself by that name, and have his shield or buckler paintedas he had devised.
Don Quixote would have looked to see whether the body in thelitter were bones or not, but Sancho would not have it, saying:
"Senor, you have ended this perilous adventure more safely foryourself than any of those I have seen: perhaps these people, thoughbeaten and routed, may bethink themselves that it is a single man thathas beaten them, and feeling sore and ashamed of it may take heart andcome in search of us and give us trouble enough. The ass is inproper trim, the mountains are near at hand, hunger presses, we havenothing more to do but make good our retreat, and, as the saying is,the dead to the grave and the living to the loaf."
And driving his ass before him he begged his master to follow,who, feeling that Sancho was right, did so without replying; and afterproceeding some little distance between two hills they foundthemselves in a wide and retired valley, where they alighted, andSancho unloaded his beast, and stretched upon the green grass, withhunger for sauce, they breakfasted, dined, lunched, and supped allat once, satisfying their appetites with more than one store of coldmeat which the dead man's clerical gentlemen （who seldom putthemselves on short allowance） had brought with them on theirsumpter mule. But another piece of ill-luck befell them, whichSancho held the worst of all, and that was that they had no wine todrink, nor even water to moisten their lips; and as thirst tormentedthem, Sancho, observing that the meadow where they were was full ofgreen and tender grass, said what will be told in the followingchapter.
CHAPTER XX
OF THE UNEXAMPLED AND UNHEARD-OF ADVENTURE WHICH WAS ACHIEVED BY THEVALIANT DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA WITH LESS PERIL THAN ANY EVERACHIEVED BY ANY FAMOUS KNIGHT IN THE WORLD
"IT CANNOT be, senor, but that this grass is a proof that there mustbe hard by some spring or brook to give it moisture, so it would bewell to move a little farther on, that we may find some place where wemay quench this terrible thirst that plagues us, which beyond adoubt is more distressing than hunger."
The advice seemed good to Don Quixote, and, he leading Rocinanteby the bridle and Sancho the ass by the halter, after he had packedaway upon him the remains of the supper, they advanced the meadowfeeling their way, for the darkness of the night made it impossible tosee anything; but they had not gone two hundred paces when a loudnoise of water, as if falling from great rocks, struck their ears. Thesound cheered them greatly; but halting to make out by listeningfrom what quarter it came they heard unseasonably another noisewhich spoiled the satisfaction the sound of the water gave them,especially for Sancho, who was by nature timid and faint-hearted. Theyheard, I say, strokes falling with a measured beat, and a certainrattling of iron and chains that, together with the furious din of thewater, would have struck terror into any heart but Don Quixote's.The night was, as has been said, dark, and they had happened toreach a spot in among some tall trees, whose leaves stirred by agentle breeze made a low ominous sound; so that, what with thesolitude, the place, the darkness, the noise of the water, and therustling of the leaves, everything inspired awe and dread; moreespecially as they perceived that the strokes did not cease, nor thewind lull, nor morning approach; to all which might be added theirignorance as to where they were. But Don Quixote, supported by hisintrepid heart, leaped on Rocinante, and bracing his buckler on hisarm, brought his pike to the slope, and said, "Friend Sancho, knowthat I by Heaven's will have been born in this our iron age torevive revive in it the age of gold, or the golden as it is called;I am he for whom perils, mighty achievements, and valiant deeds arereserved; I am, I say again, he who is to revive the Knights of theRound Table, the Twelve of France and the Nine Worthies; and he who isto consign to oblivion the Platirs, the Tablantes, the Olivantes andTirantes, the Phoebuses and Belianises, with the whole herd offamous knights-errant of days gone by, performing in these in whichI live such exploits, marvels, and feats of arms as shall obscuretheir brightest deeds. Thou dost mark well, faithful and trustysquire, the gloom of this night, its strange silence, the dullconfused murmur of those trees, the awful sound of that water in questof which we came, that seems as though it were precipitating anddashing itself down from the lofty mountains of the Moon, and thatincessant hammering that wounds and pains our ears; which things alltogether and each of itself are enough to instil fear, dread, anddismay into the breast of Mars himself, much more into one not used tohazards and adventures of the kind. Well, then, all this that I putbefore thee is but an incentive and stimulant to my spirit, makingmy heart burst in my bosom through eagerness to engage in thisadventure, arduous as it promises to be; therefore tighten Rocinante'sgirths a little, and God be with thee; wait for me here three days andno more, and if in that time I come not back, thou canst return to ourvillage, and thence, to do me a favour and a service, thou wilt goto El Toboso, where thou shalt say to my incomparable lady Dulcineathat her captive knight hath died in attempting things that might makehim worthy of being called hers."