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

CHAP. VIII.

Of the good successe Don-Quixote had, in the dreadfull and never imagined adventure of the Winde-mils, with other acci∣dents worthy to be recorded.

AS thus they discoursed, they discovered some thirty or forty Wind-mils, that are in that field; and as soone as Don- Quixote espied them, hee said to his Squire, Fortuue doth addresse our affaires better then wee our selves could desire; for behold there, friend Sancho Panca, how there appeares thirty or forty monstrous Giants, with whom I mean to fight, and deprive them all of their lives, with whose spoyles wee will begin to bee rich, for this is a good Warre, and a great service unto God, to take away so bad a seede from the face of the Earth. What Giants? quoth Sancho Panca, Those that thou seest there, quoth his Lord, with the long armes, and some there are of that race, whose armes are almost two leagues long, I pray you understand, quoth Sancho Panca, that those which appeare there, are no Giants but Windmills; and that which seemes in them to bee armes, are their Sayles, that are swinged about by the Winde, doe also make the Mill goe. It seemes well, quoth Don-Quixote, that thou art not yet acquainted with matter of Adventures: they are Gi∣ants, and if thou beest afraid, goe aside and pray whilst I enter into cruell and unequall battell with them: And saying so, hee spur'd his horse Rozinante, without taking heed to his Squire Sanchoes cryes, advertising him how they were doubtlesse Windmills that hee did assault, and no Giants; but hee went so fully perswaded that they were Giants as hee neither heard his Squires out-cries, nor did discern what they were, although hee drew very neere to them, but rather said as loud as hee could: Flie not ye Cowards and vile creatures, for it is only one Knight that assaults you. With this the winde in∣creased, and the Mill Sailes began to turne about, which Don-Quixote, espying, said, although thou movedst more armes then the Giant Briares, thou shalt stoope to mee, and after saying this, and commending himself most devoutly to his Lady Dulcinea, de∣siring her to succour him in that trance, covering himself well with his Buckler, and set∣ting his Launce on his rest, hee spurred on Rozinante, and encountred with the first Mill that was before him, and striking his Launce into the Sayle, the wind swinged it about with such furie, that it broke his Launce into shivers, carrying him and his Horse after it, and finally tumbled him a good way off from it on the field in very evill plight. Sancho Panca repayred presently to succour him as fast as his Asse could drive; and when hee arived. hee found him not able to stir, hee had gotten such a crush with Rozi∣nante. Good God, quoth Sancho, did I not foretell unto you that you should looke well what you did, for they were none other then Windmills, nor could any thinke o∣therwise, unlesse hee had also Windmills in his braines. Peace Sancho, quoth Don-Quixote, (for matters of Warre are more subject then any other thing to continuall change; how much more seeing I doe verily perswade my self, that the wise Freston who robbed my Studie and Bookes, hath transformed these Giants into Mills, to de∣prive mee of the glory of the Victory; such is the enmitie hee beares towards mee. But yet in fine, all his bad arts shall but little prevaile against the goodnesse of my Sword. God grant it, as hee may, said Sancho Panca, and then helpt him to arise, and present∣ly hee mounted on Rozinante, who was half shoulder-pitcht [Medio spaldado] by rough encounter; and discoursing upon that Adventure, they followed on the way which guided towards the passage or gate of Lapice (A passage through the Moun∣tains) for there as Don-Quixote avouched, it was not possible but to finde many Ad∣ventures, because it was a through-fare much frequented, and yet hee affirmed that he

went very much grieved because hee wanted a Launce, and telling it to his Squire hee said, I remember how I have read that a certain Spanish Knight, called Diego Peres of Vargas, having broken his Sword in a Battell, tore off a great branch or stock from an Oake tree, and did such marvailes with it that day, and battered so many Moors, as he remained with the surname of Machuca, which signifies a stumpe, and as well hee as all his Progenie were ever after that day called Vargas and Machuca, I tell thee this, because I mean to tear another branch, such, or as good as that at least, from the first Oake, we shall encounter, and I mean to atchieve such Adventures therewithall, as thou wilt account thy self fortunate, for having merited to behold them, and be a witnesse of things almost incredible. In Gods name quoth Sancho, I doe believe every word you said: But I pray you sit right in your saddle; for you ride sideling, which pro∣ceeds, as I suppose, of the bruising you got by your fall. Thou sayest true, quoth Don-Quixote; And if I doe not complain of the grief, the reason is; because Knights Errant use not to complain of any wound, although their guts did issue out thereof. If it be so (quoth Sancho) I know not what to say; but God knows that I would be glad to hear you to complain when any thing grieves you. Of my self I dare affirm, that I must complain of the least grief that I have, if it be not likewise meant that the Squires of Knights Errants must not complain of any harm. Don-Quixote could not refrain laughter, hearing the simplicity of his Squire; and after shewed unto him, that hee might lawfully complain, both when he pleased, and as much as he listed, with desire, or without it; for he had never yet read any thing to the contrary, in the order of Knighthood. Then Sancho said unto him, that it was dinner time: To whom he answered, that he needed no repast; but if he had will to eat, he might begin when hee pleased. Sancho having obteined his licence, did accommodate himself on his Asse back, the best he might, taking out of his Wallet some Belly-munition; he rode after his Master tra∣velling and eating at once, and that with great leisure; and ever and anon he lifted up his bottle with such pleasure as the best fed Victualer of Malaga might envie his state; and whilest he rode multiplying of quaffs in that manner, he never remembred any of the promises his Master had made him; nor did he hold the fetch of Adventures to be a la∣bour, but rather a great recreation and ease, were they never so dangerous. In conclu∣sion they past over that night under certain Trees, from one of which Don-Quixote ••oar a withered branch, which might serve him in some sort for a Launce; and there∣fore he set thereon the iron of his own, which he had reserved when it was broken. All that night Don-Quixote slept not one wink, but thought upon his Lady Dulcinea, that he might conform himself to what he had read in his books of Adventures, when Knights passed over many nights without sleep in forrests and fields only entertained by memory of their Mistrisses. But Sancho spent not his time so vainly; for having his stomack well stuffed, and that not with Succory water, he carried smoothly away the whole night in one sleep: and if his Master had not called him up, neither the Sun∣beams which struck on his visage, nor the melody of the Birds, which were many, and did cheerfully welcome the approach of the new day, could have been able to awake him: At his arriving he gave one assay to the bottle, which he found to be somewhat more weak then it was the night before, whereat his heart was somewhat grieved; for he mistrusted that they took not a course to remedy that defect so soon as he wished: Nor could Don•• Quixote break his fast, who, as we have said, meant only to sustein himself with pleasant remembrances. Then did they return to their commenced way towards the Port of Lapice, which they discovered about three of the clock in the afternoon. Here (said Don-Quixote) as soon as he kend it, may we (friend Sancho) thrust our hands up to the very elbows in that which is called Adventures. But observe well this Caveat which I shall give thee, that although thou seest me in the greatest dangers of the World, thou must not set hand to thy sword in my defence, if thou doest not see that those which assault me be base and vile vulgar people; for in such a case thou mayst assist me. Marry if they be Knights thou may'st not doe so in any wise, nor is it per∣mitted by the laws of arms, that thou may'st help me, untill thou beest likewise dub'd knight thy self. I doe assure you Sir, quoth Sancho, that herein you shall be most pun∣ctually

obeyed: And therefore chiefly, in respect that I am of mine own nature a quiet and peaceable man, and a mortall enemy of thrusting my self into stirrs or quarrells: Yet it is true that touching the defence of mine own person, I will not be altogether so observant of those Laws, seeing that both divine and humane allow every man to defend himself from any one that would wrong him. I say no lesse, answered Don-Quixote, but in this of ayding me against any Knight, thou must set bounds to thy na∣turall impulses. I say I will doe so, quoth Sancho; and I will observe this commande∣ment as punctually, as that of keeping holy the Saboth day.

Whil'st thus they reasoned, there appeared in the way two Monks of S. Benets Or∣der, mounted on two Dromedaries; for the Mules whereon they rode were but little lesse. They wore masks with spectacles in them, to keep away the dust from their faces; and each of them besides boar their Umbrills; after them came a Coach, and four or five a horse-back accompanying it, and two Lacquies that ran hard by it. There came therein, as it was after known, a certain Biscaine Lady, which travelled towards Sivil, where her husband so journed at the present, and was going to the Indies, with an ho∣nourable charge: The Monks rode not with her although they travelled the same way. Scarce had Don-Quixote perceived them, when he said to his Squire; Either I am deceived, or else this will prove the most famous Adventure that ever hath been seen. For these two great black bulk, which appear there, are questionlesse Inchanters that steal, or carry away perforce, some Princesse in that Coach; and therefore I must with all my power undo that wrong. This wil be worse then the adventure of the Wind∣mills, quoth Sancho. Doe not you see Sir, that those are Fryers of S. Benets Order? & the Coach can be none other then of some travellers. Therefore listen to mine advice, and see well what you doe, lest the Devill deceive you. I have said already to thee Sancho, that thou art very ignorant in matter of Adventures. What I say is true, as now thou shalt see. And saying so, he spur'd on his horse, and placed himself just in the mid'st of the way, by which the Fryers came; and when they approached so neer, as he supposed they might hear him, he said with a loud voyce:

Divilish and wicked people, leave present∣ly those high Princesses which you violantly carry away with you in that Coach; or if you will not, prepare your selves to recive suddain death, as a just punishment of your bad works.

The Fryers held their horses, and were amazed both at the shape and words of Don-Quixote. To whom they answered, Sir Knight, we are neither divillish nor wicked, but religious men of S. Benets Order, that travell about our affairs; and wee know not whether or no there comes any Princesses forced in this Coach. With me fair words take no effect, quoth Don-Quixote. For I know you very well treache∣rous knaves; and then, without expecting their reply, he set spurs to Rozinante, and laying his Launce on the thigh, charged the first Fryer with such fury and rage, that if he had not suffered himself willingly to fall off his Mule, he would not only have over∣thrown him against his will; but likewise have slain, or at least wounded him very ill with the blow. The second religious man seeing how ill his companion was used made no words; but seting spurs to that Castell his Mule, did fly away through the field, as swift as the winde it self. Sancho Panca seeing the Monk overthrown, dismounted very speedily off his Asse, and ran over to him, and would have ransackt his habits. In this arrived the Monks two Lacquies, and demanded of him why he thus dispoyled the Fryer? Sancho reply'd, that it was his due by the Law of arms, as lawfull spoyles gained in battell by his Lord Don-Quixote. The Lacquies which understood not the jest, nor knew not what words of battell or spoyles meant, seeing that Don-Quixote was now out of the way speaking with those that came in the Coach, set both at once upon Sancho, and left him not a hair in his beard; but they pluck't, and did so trample him under their feet, as they left him stretched on the ground without either breath or feel∣ing. The Monk cutting off all delayes, mounted again on horse back, all affrighted, having scarce any drop of blood left in his face through fear. And being once up, he spur'd after his fellow, who expected him a good way off, staying to see the successe of that assault; and being unwilling to attend the end of that strange Adventure, they did prosecute their journey, blessing & crossing themselves as if the Divell did pursue them.

Don-Quixote, as is rehearsed, was in this season speaking to the Lady of the Coach, to whom he said,

Your beauty deer Lady, may dispose from henceforth of your person, as best yee liketh; for the pride of your Robbers lyes now prostrated on the ground, by this my invincible arme. And because you may not be troubled to know your de∣liverer his name, know that I am called Don-Quixote de la Mancha; a Knight Errant and Adventurer, and Captive to the Peerlesse and Bautifull Lady Dulcinea of To∣boso: and in reward of the benefit which you have received at my hands, I demand nothing else but that you return to Toboso; and there present your selves in my name before my Lady, and recount unto her, what I have done to obtain your Liberty.

To all these words which Don-Quixote said, a certain Biscaine Squire that accompanied the Coach, gave ear; who seeing that Don-Quixote suffered not the Coach to passe onward, but said that it must presently return back to Toboso, he drew neer to him, and laying hold on his Launce, he said in his bad Spanish and worse Basquish; Get thee away Knight in an ill hour; by the God that created me, if thou leave not the Coach, I will kill thee, as sure as I am a Biscaine. Don-Quixote understanding him, did an∣swer with great staidnesse; If thou wer'st a Knight [Cavallero in Spanish is taken as well for a Gentleman as for a Knight] as thou art not, I would by this have punished thy folly and presumption, crafty creature. The Biscaine replyed with great furie; Not I a Gentleman? I swear God thou lyest, as well as I am a Christian: If thou cast away thy Launce, and draw thy sword, [pag. 58.] thou shalt see the water as soon as thou shalt carrie away the Cat: A Biscaine by Land, and a Gentleman by Sea, a Gentleman in despight of the Devill; and thou lyest if other things thou sayest. Straight thou shalt see that, said Agrages, replyed Don-Quixote; and throwing his Lannce to the ground, he out with his Sword, and took his Buckler, and set on the Biscaine, with re∣solution to kill him. The Biscaine seeing him approach in that manner, although he desired to alight off his Mule, which was not to be trusted, being one of those naughty ones which are wont to be hired, yet had he no leisure to doe any other thing then to draw out his Sword: but it befell him happily to bee neer to the Coach, out of which he snatched a Cushion that served him for a Shield, and presently the one made upon the other like mortall enemies. Those that were present laboured all that they might, but in vain, to compound the matter between them; for the Biscaine swore in his bad Language, that if they hindred him from ending the Battell, he would put his Lady, and all the rest that dared to disturb him to the Sword.

The Lady astonished and fearfull of that which shee beheld, commanded the Coach∣man to goe a little out of the way, and face aloo••e, beholding the rigorous conflict. In the progresse whereof the Biscaine gave Don-Quixote over the Target a mighty blow on one of the shoulders, where if it had not found resistance in his armour, it would doubtlesly have cleft him down to the girdle. Don-Quixote feelling the waight of that unmeasurable blow, cried with a loude voice, saying,

O Dulcinea, Lady of my soule, the flower of all beauty, succour this thy Knight, who to set forth thy worth, findes himself in this dangerous trance.

The saying of these words, the griping fast of his Sword, the covering of himself wel with his Buckler, & the assayling of the Biscaine, was done all in one instant, resolving to venter all the successe of the battell on that one only blow. The Bicaine, who perceived him come in that manner, perceived by his dough∣tinesse his intention, and resolved to doe the like, and therefore expected him very well covered with his Cushion, not being able to manage his Mule as hee wished from one part to another, who was not able to goe a step, it was so wearied, as a beast never be∣fore used to the like toyes. Don-Quixote, as wee have said, came against the weary Bis∣caine, with his Sword lifted a loft, with a full resolution to part him in two, and all the beholders stood with great feare suspended to see the successe of those monstrous blows wherewithall they threatned one another. And the Lady of the Coach with her Gen∣tlewomen made a thousand Vowes and Offerings to all the devoute places of Spain, to the end that God might deliver the Squire and themselves out of that great danger wherein they were.

But it is to bee deplored how in this very point and terme, the Author of this Histo∣ry leaves this Battell depending, excusing himselfe that hee could find no more written of the Acts of Don-Quixote then those which hee hath already recounted. True it is that the second writer of this worke would not beleeve that so curious a History was drowned in the jawes of Oblivion, or that the wits of the Mancha were so little curi∣ous as not to reserve among their Treasuries or Records, some papers treating of this famous Knight; and therefore encouraged by this presumption, hee did not despaire to finde the end of this pleasant History; which Heaven being propicious to him, hee got at last, after the manner that shall bee recounted in the second Part.