The history of the valorous and vvitty-knight-errant, Don-Quixote, of the Mancha tr. out of the Spanish.

CHAP. I.

Wherein is rehearsed the Calling, and Exercise, of the Renowned Gentleman, Don-Quixote of the Mancha.

THere lived not long since in a certain Vilage of the Mancha (the hame whereof I purposely omit) a Gentleman of their calling that use to pile up in their Halls old Launces, Halbards, Morri∣ons, and such other Armours and Weapons. He was besides Master of an ancient Target, a Lean Stallion, and a swift Gray∣hound. His pot consisted daily of somewhat more Beef then Mutton, a Galli mawfry each night, Collops and Eggs on Saturdayes, Lentils on Fridayes, and now and then a lean Pigeon on Sundayes, did consume three parts of his Rents; the rest and remnant thereof was spent on a Jerkin of fine Puke, a pair of Velvet hose, with Pantofles of the same for the Holy-dayes, and one Sute of the finest Vesture; for therewithall he honoured and see out his person on the work dayes. He had in his house a woman servant of about fourty yeers old, and a Neece not yet twenty, and a man that served him both in field and at home and could saddle his Horse, and likewise manage a pruning hook. The Master himself was about fifty yeers old, of a strong complexion, dry flesh, and a wi∣thered face: He was an early riser, and a great friend of hunting. Some affirm that his surname was Qixada or Quesada (for in this there is some varience among the Authors that write his life) although it may be gathered by very probable conjectures, that he was called Quixanall Yet all this concerns our Historicall Relation but lit∣tle•• Let it then suffice, that in the Narration thereof we will not vary a jot from the truth.

You shall therefore wit, that this Gentleman above named, the spirts that he was idle (which was the longer part of the year) did apply himself wholly to the reading of

Books of Knight-hood, and that with such gusts and delights, as he almost wholly neglected the exercise of hunting; yea, and the very administration of his houshould affairs: and his curiosity and folly came to that passe, that he made away many Acres of arable Land to buy him books of that kinde, and therefore he brought to his house as many as ever he could get of that Subject: And among them all, none pleased him better then those which famous Felician of Silva composed. For the smoothness of his Prose, with now and then some intricate sentence meddled, seemed to him peerlesse; and principally when he did read the courtings, or Letters of challenge that Knights sent to Ladies, or one to another; where, in many places he found written, The rea∣son of the unreasonablenesse, which against my reason is wrought, doth so weaken my reason, as withall reason I doe justly complain on your Beauty. And also when he read the high Heavens, which with your Divinity doe fortifie you divinely with the Starrs, and make you deserveresse of the Deserts which your Greatnesse deserves, &c. With these and other such passages, the poor Gentleman grew distracted, and was breaking his brains day and night, to understand and unbowell their sense. An endlesse labour; foreven Aristotle himself would not understand them, though he were again resuscitated only for that purpose. He did not like so much the unproportionate blows that Don Belianie gave and took in fight; for, as he imagined, were the Surge∣ons never so cunning that cured them, yet was it impossible but that the Patient his Face and all his Body must remain full of scars and tokens: yet did he praise notwith∣standing in the Author of that History, the conclusion of his book, with the promise of the endlesse adventure; and many times he himself had a desire to take pen and finish it exactly, as it is there promised; and would doubtlesly have performed it, and that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with happy successe, if other more urgent and continuall thoughts had not di∣sturbed him.

Many times did he fall at varience with the Curate of his Village (who was a learned man, graduated in Ciguenca) touching who was the better Knight, Palmerin of Eng∣land, or Amadis de Gaule: But Mr. Nicholas the Barber of the same Town would affirm, that none of both arrived in worth to the Knight of the Sun; and if any one Knight might paragon with him, it was infallibly Don Galaor, Amadis de Gaule's brother, whose nature might fitly be accommodated to any thing; For he was not so coy and whyning a Knight as his brother, and that in matters of Valour, he did not bate him an Ace.

In resolution, he plunged himself so deeply in his reading of these books, as he spent many times in the Lecture of them whole dayes and nights; and in the end, through his little sleep and much reading, he dryed up his brains in such sort, as he lost wholy his Judgement. His fantasie was filled with those things that he read, of Enchantments, Quairels, Battels, Challenges, Wounds, Wooings, Loves, Tempests, and other im∣possible follies. And these toyes did so firmly possesse his imagination with an infal∣lible opinion, that all that Machina of dreamed inventions which he read, was true, as he accounted no History in the World to be so certain and sincere as they were. He was wont to say, that the Gid Ruydiaz (A famous Captain of the Spanish Nation.) was a very good Knight, but not to be compared to the Knight of the burning Sword, which with one thwart blow cut asunder two fierce and mighty Gyants. He agreed better with Bernarde del Carpio, because he flew the enchanted Rowland in Roncesuales. He likewise liked of the shift Hercules used when he smothered Antean, the son of the earth, between his arms. He praised the Gyant Margant marvelously, because, though he was of that Monstrom Progenie, who are commonly all of them proud and rude, yet he only was affable and courteous. But he agreed best of all with Reinauld of Mount Alban; and most of all then, when he saw him fallie out of his Castle to Rob as many as ever he could meet: And when moreover he Rob'd the Idoll of Mahome's made of God, as his History recounts, and would be content to give his old woman; yea, and his Neece also, for a good oportunity on the Traytor Galalon, that he might Lamb-skin and trample him into Powder.

Finally, his wit being wholy extinguished; he fell into one of the strangest conceits

that ever mad-man stumbled on in this World, to wit, It seemed unto him very re∣quisite and behoovefull, as well for the augmentation of his Honour, as also for the benefit of the Common-wealth, that he himself should becom a Knight Errant, and goe throughout the World, with his Horse and Armor to seek Adventures, and practise in person all that he had read was used by Knights of yoare; revenging all kinde of in¦juries, and offering him-self to occasions and dangers: which being once happily atchieved, might gain him eternall renown. The poor soul did already figure himself crowned, through the valour of his Arm, at least Emperor of Trapesonda; and led thus by these soothing thoughts, and borne away with the exceeding delight he found in them, he hastened all that he might, to effect his urging desires.

And first of all he caused certain old rusty Arms to bee scowred, that belonged to his great Grand-father, and lay many ages neglected and forgotten, in a by-corner of his house; he trim'd them and dressed them the best he mought, and then perceived a great defect they had; for they wanted an helmet, and had only a plain morrion; but he by his industry supplied that want, and framed with certain Papers pasted together, a Beaver for his Morrion. True it is, that to make tryall whether his pasted Beaver was strong enough, and might abide the adventure of a blow; he out with his sword and gave it a blow or two, and with the very first did quite undoe his whole weeks labour: the facility wherewithall it was dissolved liked him nothing; wherefore to assure him self better the next time from the like danger, he made it anew, placing certain Iron bars within it, in so artificiall manner, as he rested at once satisfied, both with his inven∣tion, and also the solidity of the work; and without making a second tryall, he deputed and held it in estimation of a most excellent Beaver. Then did he presently visit his Horse, who (though he had more quarters then pence in a sixpence, through leannesse, and more faults then Gonellas) having nothing on him but skin and bone; yet he thought that neither Alexanders Bucephalus, nor the Cid his horse Balie••a, were in any respect equall to him. He spent four dayes devising him a name: for (as he reasoned to himself) it was not fit that so famous a Knights horse, and chiefly being so good a beast, should want a known name; and therefore he endeavoured to give him such a one, as should both declare what sometime he had been, before he pertained to a Knight Errant, and also what at present he was: for it stood greatly with reason, seeing his Lord and Master changed his estate and vocation, that he should alter likewise his de∣nomination, and get a new one, that were famous and altisonant, as becomed the new order and exercise which he now professed: and therefore after many other names which he framed, blotted out, rejected, added, undid, and turned again to frame in his memory and imagination, he finally concluded to name him Rozinante, (A horse of la∣bor or carriage, in Spanish, is called Rozin, and the word Ante signifies Before; so that Rozinante is a horse that sometime was of carriage.) A name in his opinion lofty, full, and significant, of what he had been when he was a plain Jade, before he was exalted to his new dignitie; being, as he thought, the best carriage Beast of the World. The name being thus given to his Horse, and so to his minde, he resolved to give himself a name also; and in that thought he laboured other eight dayes; and in conclusion, called himself Don-Quixote; whence (as is said) the Authors of this most true History de∣duce, that he was undoubtedly named Quixada, and not Quesada, as others would have it. And remembring that the valorous Amadis was not satisfied only with the dry name of Amadis, but added thereunto the name of his Kingdome and Countrey, to render his own more redoubted, terming himself Amadis de Gaula; so he, like a good Knight, would add to his own, that also of his Province, and call himself Don Quixote of the Mancha, wherewith it appeared, that he very lively declared his Linage and Countrey, which he did honour, by taking it for his surname.

His Armour being scowred, his Morrion transformed into an Helmet, his Horse na∣med, and himself confirmed with a new name also; he forthwith bethought himself, that now he wanted nothing but a Lady, on whom he might bestow his service and affe∣ction; for the Knight Errant that is lovelesse, resembles a Tree that wants leaves and fruit, or a body without a soul: and therefore he was wont to say, If I should for

my sinns, or by good hap, encounter there abroad with some Gyant (as Knights Er∣rant doe ordinarily) and that I should overthrow him with one blow to the ground, or cut him with a stroak in two halves, or finally overcome, or make him yield to me, would it not be very expedient to have some Lady, to whom I might present him? And that he entring in her presence, doe kneel before my sweet Lady, and say unto her with an humble and submissive voice; Madam, I am the Gyant Caraculiambro, Lord of the Island called Malindran••a, whom the never-too-much-praised Knight Don-Quixote de la Mancha hath overcome in single Combat; and hath commanded to present my self to your greatnesse, that it may please your highnesse to dispose of me according unto your liking! O •• how glad was our Knight when he had made this discourse to himself, but chiefly when he had found out one whom he might call his Lady? For as it is imagined, there dwelled in the next Village unto his Mannor, a young handsome wench, with whom he was sometime in Love, although, as is under∣stood, she never knew or took notice thereof. She was called Aldonsa Lorenso, and her he thought fittest to intitle with the name of Lady of his thoughts, and searching a name for her that should not vary much from her own, and yet should draw and a∣verre somewhat to that of a Princesse or great Lady, he called her D••lcinea del Toboso (for there she was borne) a name in his conceit harmonious, strange, and significant, like to all the others that he had given to his things.