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

CHAP. VIII.

Of the Liberty Don-Quixote gave to many Wretches, who were a carrying perforce to a place they desired not.

CIde Hamete Benengeli, an Arabicall and Machegan Authour re∣counts in this most grave, lofty, divine, sweet, conceited History, That after these discourses past between Don-Quixote and his Squire Sancho Panca, which we have laid down in the last Chapter, Don-Quixote lifting up his eyes, saw that there came in the very same way wherein they rode, about some twelve men in a company on foot, inserted like Bead-stones in a great chain of iron, that was tyed about their necks, and every one of them had manacles besides on their hands. There came to conduct them two on horse-back and two others a foot: The horse∣men had fire-lock pieces; Those that came a foot, darts and swords. And as soon as Sancho saw them, hee said; This is a chain of Gally-slaves, people forced by the King to goe to the Gallies. How? people forced, demanded Don-Quixote: is it possible that the King will force any body? I say not so, answered Sancho, but that it is peo∣ple which are condemned for their offences to serve the King in the Gallies perforce. In resolution, replyed Don-Quixote, (howsoever it bee) this folk, although they bee conducted, goe perforce, and not willingly. That's so, quoth Sancho. Then if that bee so, here falls in justly the execution of my Function, to wit, the dissolving of violences and outrages, and the succouring of the afflicted and needfull. I pray you Sir, quoth Sancho, to consider that the Justice, who represents the King himself, doth wrong or violence to nobody; but only doth chastise them for their committed crimes.

By this the chaine of slaves arrived, and Don-Quixote with very courteous termes requested those that went in their guard, that they would please to informe him of the cause wherefore they carried that people away in that manner? One of the guardi∣ans a Horse-back answered, that they were slaves condemned by his Majesty to the Gallies, and there was no more to be said, neither ought he to desire any farther know∣ledge. For all that, replied Don-Quixote, I would faine learne of every one of them in particular the cause of his disgrace: and to this did add other such and so cour∣teous words, to move them to tell him what he desired, as the other guardian a Horse-back said. Although we carry here the Register and testimony of the condemna∣tions of every one of these wretches, yet this is no time to hold them here long, or take out the Processes to reade; draw you neerer and demaund it of themselves, for they may tell it and they please, and I know they will; for they are men that take de∣light both in acting and relating knaveries.

With this licence, which Don-Quixote himself would have taken, although they had not given it him, he came to the chaine, and demanded of the first for what offence he went in so ill a guise? Hee answered that his offence was no other then for being

in love; for which cause only hee went in that manner. For that and no more, reply∣ed Don-Quixote? Well, if enamoured folk be cast into the Gallies, I might have been rowing there a good many dayes agoe. My love was not such as you conjecture, quoth the slaue, for mine was that I loved so much a basket well heaped with fine lin∣nen, as I did embrace it so straightly, that if the Justice had not taken it away from me by force, I would not have forsaken it to this hour by my good will. All was done in Flagrante, there was no leisure to give me torment, the cause was concluded, my shoulders accommodated with a hundred, and for a supplement three prices of Gar∣rupes, and the worke was ended. What are Garrupes, quoth Don-Quixote? Garrupes are Gallies, replyed the slave, who was a young man of some four and twenty years old, and said he was borne in Piedrahita.

Don-Quixote demaunded of the second his cause of offence, who would answer nothing he went so sad and melancholy. But the first answered for him, and said, Sir this man goes for a Canary-bird, I meane for a Musitian and Singer. Is it possible, quoth Don-Quixote, that Musitians and Singers are likewise sent to the Gallies? Yes Sir, quoth the slave, for there's nothing worse then to sing in anguish. Rather, quoth Don-Quixote, I have heard say that he which sings doth affright and chase away his harms. Here it is quite contrary, quoth the slave, for He that sings once, weeps all his life after. I doe not understand it, said Don-Quixote: But one of the Gardians said to him, Sir Knight, to sing in anguish, is said among this people non Sancta, to confesse upon the rack. They gave this poor wretch the torture, and hee confessed his delight, that hee was a Quartrezo, that is a stealer of Beasts: And because hee hath confessed, hee is likewise condemned to the Gallies for six yeers, with an Amen of two hundred blows, which hee bears already with him on his shoulders: And he goes alwaies thus sad and pensative, because the other theeves that remain behinde, and also those which goe here doe abuse, despise, and scorn him for confessing, and not having a courage to say Non: For they say a N•••• hath as many letters as a Yea; and that a Delin∣quent is very fortunate, when his life or his death only depends of his own tongue, and not of witnesses or proofs: And in mine opinion they have very great reason. I like∣wise think the same, quoth Don-Quixote.

And passing to the third, hee demanded that which hee had done of the rest, who an∣swered him out of hand, and that pleasantly: I goe to the Lady Garrupes for five yeers, because I wantted ten Duccats. I will give twenty with all my heart to free thee from that misfortune, quoth Don-Quixote. That, quoth the Slave, would be like one that hath money in the midest of the Gulf, and yet dies for hunger, because hee can get no meat to buy for it. I say this because if I had those twenty Duccats which your Wor∣ships liberality offers me, in due season, I would have so annointed with them the Nota∣ries pen, and whetted my Lawyers wit so well, that I might to day see my self in the midest of the Market of Cocodover of Toledo, and not in this way trayled thus like a Gray-hound: but God is great. Patience, and this is enough.

Don-Quixote went after to the fourth, who was a man of a venerable presence, with a long white beard which reached to his bosome. Who hearing himself demanded the cause why he came there, began to weep, and answered not a word. But the fift Slave lent him a tongue, and said, This honest man goes to the Gallies for four yeers, after he had walked the Ordinary apparrelled in pompe, and a horse-back. That is, quoth Sancho Panca, as I take, after hee was carried about to the shame and publique view of the People. You are in the right, quoth the Slave; and the crime for which hee is condemned to this pain, was, for being a Broker of the ear, I, and of all the body too; for in effect I mean that this Gentleman goeth for a Baud, and likewise for having a little smack and entrance in witch-craft. If that smack and insight in witch-craft were not added, quoth Don-Quixote, hee merrited not to goe and row in the Gallies for being a pure Baud, but rather deserved to govern and be their Generall. For the Office of a Baud•• is not like every other ordinary Office, but rather of great discretion and most necessary in any Common-wealth well governed, and should not be practised but by people well borne; and ought besides to have a Veedor, [Veedor

is an Office in Spain of great trust, set by the King to examine and search the dealing of other under-Officers; an Overseer or Controuler.] and Examinator of them, as are of all other trades, and a certain appointed number of men known, as are of the other Brokers of the Exchange. And in this manner many harms that are done might bee excused, because this Trade and Office is practised by indiscreet people of little under∣standing; such as are women of little more or lesse; young Pages and Jesters of few yeers standing, and of lesse experience; which in the most urgent occasions, and when they should contrive a thing artificially, the crumms freeze in their mouthes and fists; and they know not which is their right hand. Fain would I passe forward, and give reasons why it is convenient to make choyse of those which ought in the Common∣wealth to practise this so necessary an Office: but the place and season is not sit for it. One day I will say it to those which may provide and remedy it: only I say now, that the assumpt or addition of a Witch, hath deprived me of the compassion I should otherwise have, to see those gray hairs and venerable face in such distresse for being a Baud. Although I know very well that no Sorcery in the world can move or force the will as some ignorant persons think (for our will is a free power, and there's no Hearb nor Charm can constrain it.) That which certain simple women, or cousening companions make, are some mixtures and poysons, wherewithall they cause men runne madd, and in the mean while perswade us that they have force to make one love well, being (as I have said) a thing most impossible to constrain the Will. That is true, quoth the old man, and I protest Sir, that I am wholly innocent of the imputation of Witch-craft. As for being a Baud I could not denie it: but yet I never thought that I did ill therein; for all mine intention was, that all the world should disport them, and live together in concord and quietnesse without griefs or quarrels: but this my good desire availed me but little to hinder my going there; from whence I have no hope ever to return, my yeers doe so burden me, and also the stone, which lets me not rest an inst••nt. And saying this, hee turned again to his lamentations as at the first; and Sancho took such compassion on him, as setting his hand into his bosome, hee drew out a couple of shillings and gave it him as an almes.

From him Don-Quixote past to another, and demanded his fault, who answered with no lesse, but with much more pleasantnesse then the former: I goe here because I have jested somewhat too much with two Cousen Germains of mine own, and with two other sisters which were none of mine own: Finally, I jested so much with them all that thence resulted the increase of my Kindred so intricately, as there is no Casuist that can well resolve it. All was proved by me, I wanted favour, I had no money, and was in danger to lose my head: Finally, I was condemned for six yeers to the Gallies. I consented it, as a punishment of my fault; I am young, and let my life but hold out a while longer and all will goe well. And if you Sir Knight, carry any thing to succour us poor folk, God will reward you it in heaven, and wee will have care here on earth to desire God in our dayly prayers for your life and health, that it bee as long and as good as your good countenance deserves. Hee that said this went in the habit of a Student, and one of the Guard told him that hee was a great talker, and a very good Latinist.

After all these came a man of some thirty yeers old, of very comely personage, save only that when hee looked, hee seemed to thrust the one eye into the other: Hee was differently tyed from the rest; for hee carried about his legg so long a chain, that it tyred all the rest of his body: And hee had besides two iron rings about his neck, the one of the chain, and the other of that kinde which are called A keep friend, or the foot of a friend; from whence descended two irons unto his middle, out of which did stick two manacles, wherein his hand•• were locke up with a great hanging lock; so as hee could neither set his hands to his mouth, nor bend down his head towards his hands. Don-Quixote demanded why hee was so loaden with iron more then the rest? The guard answered, because hee alone hath committed more 〈◊〉〈◊〉 then all together, and was a more desperate knave; and that although they carried him tyed in that sort, yet went they not sure of him, but feared hee would make an escape. What falts can he have

so grievous, quoth Don-Quixote, since hee hath only deserved to bee sent to the Gal∣lies? hee goeth, replyed the guard to them for ten yeers, which is equivalent to a civill death; never strive to know more but that this man is the notorious Gines of Passamonte, who is otherwise called Ginesilio of Parapilla. Master Commissary, quoth the slave, hear∣ing him say so, goe faire and softly, and runne not thus dilating of names and sirnames, I am called Gines, and not Ginesilio; and Passamonte is my sirname, and not Parapilla as you say, and let every one turne about him, and hee shall not doe little. Speak with lesse swelling, quoth the Commissary, Sir Theefe of more then the Marke [Marke is a certaine length appointed in Spaine for Swords, which if any transgresse hee is punished, and the Sword Forfeited.] If you will not have mee to make you hold your peace mau∣gre your teeth. It seemes well (quoth the slave) that a man is carried as pleaseth God; but one day sombodie shall know whether I bee called Ginesilio of Parapilla. Why doe not they call thee so couzener; quoth the Guard? They doe said Gines, but I will make that they shall not call mee so, or I will fleece them, there where I mutter under my teeth. Sir Knight, if you have any thing to bestow on us, give it us now, and be gone in the name of God; for you doe tyre us with your too curious search of knowing o∣ther mens lives; and if you would know mine, you shall understand that I am Gines of Passamonte, whose life is written (shewing his hand) by these two fingers. Hee says true, quoth the Commiss••ry, for hee himselfe hath penned his owne History so well as there is nothing more to bee desired: and leaves the booke pawned in the Prison for two hundred Rials: and likewise meane to redeeme it, quoth Gines, though it were in for as many Duckets.

Is it so good a worke, said Don-Quixote? It is so good replyed Gines, that it quite puts down Lazarillo de Tormes, and as many others as are written or shall bee written of that kinde: for that which I dare affirme to you is, that it treats of true ac∣cidents, and those so delightfull that no like invention can bee compared to them. And how is the booke intituled, quoth Don-Quixote? It is called, said he, The life of Gines of Passamonte. And is it yet ended said the Knight? How can it be finished replyed he, my life being not yet ended? Since all that is written is from the hour of my byrth untill that instant that I was sent this last time to the Gallies. Why then belike you were there once before (quoth Don-Quixote) to serve God and the King, I have been in there ano∣ther time four yeers, and I know already how the bisket and provant agree with my sto∣mack (quoth Gines) nor doth it grieve mee very much to returne unto them; for there I shall have leisure to finish my Booke, and I have many things yet to say: and in the Gallies of Spaine, there is more resting time then is requisite for that businesse, although I shall not neede much time to pen what is yet unwritten; for I can, if neede were, say it all by roate. Thou seemest to bee ingenuous, quoth Don-Quixote, and unfortu∣nate withall, quoth Gines; for mishaps doe still persecute the best w••ts. They perse∣cute knaves, quoth the Commissary. I have already spoken to Master Commissary, quoth Passamonte, to goe faire aod softly; for the Lords did not give you that rod, to the end you should abuse us wretches that goe here, but rather to guide and carry us where his Majesty hath commanded, if not, by the life of—'tis enough that perhaps one day may come to light, the spottes that were made in the Inne. And let all the world peace and live well, and speake better, for this is now too great a digression. The Com∣missary held up his rod to strike Passamonte in answere of his Threats, but Don-Quixote put himselfe betweene them, and intreated him not to use him hardly, seeing it was not much that one who caried his hands so tyed, should have his tongue somwhat free, and then turning himself toward the slaves he said:

I have gathered out of all that which you have said, deere brethren, that although they punish you for your faults, yet that the paines you goe to suffer doe not very well please you, and that you march toward them with a very ill will, and wholy constrained, and that perhaps the little courage this fellow had on the Rack, the want of money that the other had, the small favour that a third enjoyed, and finally the wrested Sentence of the Judge, and the not executing that Justice that was on your sides, have beene cause of your miserie. All which doth present it selfe to my memory in such sort, as it

perswadeth, yea and inforceth me to effect that for you, for which heaven sent me into the world, and made me professe that Order of Knighthood which I follow, and that vow which I made therein to favour and assist the needfull, and those that are op∣pressed by others more potent. But for as much as I know that it is one of the parts of prudence, not to doe that by foul means which may be accomplished by fair; I will intreat those Gentlemen your Guardians and Commissary they will please to loose and let you depart peaceably; for there will not want others to serve the King in better occasions; for it seems to me a rigorous manner of proceeding, to make Slaves of them whom God and nature created free. How much more good Sits of the guard (added Don-Quixote) seeing these poor men have never committed any offence against you? let them answer for their sinns in the other world: there is a God in heaven, who is not negligent in punishing the evill, nor rewarding the good: And it is no wise decent, that honourable men should bee the executioners of other men, seeing they cannot gain or lose much thereby. I demand this of you in this peaceable quiet manner, to the end that if you accomplish my request, I may have occasion to yeeld you thanks; and if you will not doe it willingly, then shall this Launce and this Sword, guided by the invincible valour of mine arme force you to it.

This is a pleasant doting, answered the Commissary, and an excellent jest where∣withall you have finished your large reasoning. Would you (good Sir Knight) have us leave unto you those the King forceth, as if wee had authority to let them goe, or you to command us to doe it. Goe on your way in a good hour gentle Sir, and settle the Bason you bear on your head somewhat righter, and search not thus whether the Cat hath three feet. Thou art a Cat, and a Rat, and a Knave, quoth Don-Quixote: And so with word and deed at once, hee assaulted him so suddainly, as without giving him leisure to defend himself, hee struck him down to the earth very sore wounded with a blow of his Launce; and as fortune would, this was hee that had the fire-lock piece: the rest of the guard remained astonished at the unexpected accident: but at last returning to themselves, the horse-men set hand to their swords, and the foot-men to their darts, and all of them set upon Don-Quixote, who expected them very quietly: And doubtlesly hee would have been in great danger, if the Slaves perceiving the occasion offered to bee so fit to recover liberty, had not procured it by breaking the chain wherein they were linked. The Hurliburly was such as the guards now began to runne to hinder the Slaves from untying themselves, now to offend Don-Quixote who assaulted them; so that they could doe nothing available to keep their Prisoners. Sancho for his part holp to lose Gines of Passamonte, who was the first that leaped free into the field without clog, and setting upon the overthrown Com∣missary, he disarmed him of his sword and piece, and now ayming at the one and then at the other with it, without discharging, made all the guards to abandon the field, as well for feare of Passamontes piece, as also to shun the marvellous showre of stones that the Slaves, now delivered, poured on them. Sancho grew marveilous sad at this suc∣cesse; for hee suspected that those which fled away, would goe and give notice of the violence committed to the Holy Brotherhood, which would presently issue in troops to search the Delinquents: And said as much to his Lord, requesting him to depart presently from thence, and imbosk himself in the Mountain, which was very neer. All is well, quoth Don-Quixote, I know now what is fit to bee done: And so calling together all the Slaves that were in a tumult, and had stript the Commissary naked, they came all about him, to hear what he commanded, to whom he said:

It is the part of people well borne to gratifie and acknowledge the benefits they re∣ceive, ingratitude being one of the sins that most offendeth the highest. I say it Sirs, to this end, because you have by manifest tryall seen that which you have received at my hand, in reward whereof I desire, and it is my will, that all of you loaden with that chain from which I even now freed your necks, goe presently to the Citie of Toboso, and there present your selves before the Lady Dulcinea of Toboso, and recount unto her, that her Knight of the ill-favoured face sends you there to remem∣ber his service to her; and relate unto her at large the manner of your freedome, all

you that have had such noble fortune, and this being done you may after goe where you please.

Gines de Passamonte answered for all the rest, saying; that which you demand, good Sir (our Releaser) is most impossible to bee performrd, by reason that wee cannot goe altogether through these wayes, but alone and divided, procuring each of us to hid himselfe in the bowels of the earth, to the end wee may not bee found by the Holy-bro∣therhood, which will doubtlesly set out to search for us: that therefore which you may and ought to doe in this exigent is, to change this service and homage of the Lady Dul∣nea of Toboso, into a certaine number of Ave Maries and Creedes, which wee will say for you•• ••••tention, and this is a thing that may bee accomplished by night or by day, running or resting, in peace or in war; but to thinke that wee will returne againe to take up our chaynes, or set our selves in the way of Toboso, is as hard as to make us be∣leeve, that it is now night, it being yet scarce ten of the clock in the morning, and to demand such a thing of us, is as likely as to seeke for Peares of the Elme-tree. I sweare by such a one (quoth Don-Quixote throughly enraged) Sir sonne of a whore, Don Ginesilio of Paropilli••, or howsoever you are called, that thou shalt goe thy selfe alone with thy tayle betweene thy legs, and beare all the chaine in thy neck. Passamonte who was by nature very chollerick, knowing assuredly that Don-Quixote was not very wise (seeing hee had attempted such a desperate Act, as to seeke to give them liberty) seeing himselfe thus abused, winked on his Companions, and going a little aside, they sent such a showre of stones on Don-Quixote, as hee had no leisure to cover himselfe with his Buckler, and poore Rozinante made no more account of the spurre, then if his sides were made of Brasse. Sancho, ranne behinde his Asse, and by his meanes sheltred him∣selfe from the clowd and showre of stones, that rained upon both. And Don-Quixote could not cover himselfe so well, but that a number of stones struck him in the body with so great force, as they overthrew him at last to the ground, and scarce was hee fallen when the Student leapt upon him and tooke the Bason off his head, and gave him three or foure blowes with it on the shoulders, and after struck it so oft about the ground as hee almost broke it in peeces. They tooke from him likewise a Cassock which hee wore upon his Armour, and thought also to take away his stockins but that they were hindred by his Greaves. From Sancho they tooke away his Cassocke, and left him in his hayre, and dividing all the spoyles of the Battaile among themselves, they departed every one by the way hee pleased, troubled with greater care how to escape from the Holy brotherhood which they feared, then to lade themselves with the iron chayne, and goe and present themselves before the Lady Dulcinea of Toboso. The Asse and Rozinante; Sancho and Don-Quixote remayned alone. The Asse stood pensative, with his head hanging downewards, shaking now and then his eares, thinking that the storme of stones was not yet past, but that they still buzzed by his head, Rozinante lay overthrowne by his Master, who was likewise struck downe by another blowe of a stone; Sancho in feare of the bullets of the Holy Brotherhood, and Don-Quixote most discontent to see himselfe so misused by those very same to whom hee had done so much good.