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

The Authours Prologue to the Reader.

NOw God defend, Reader, Noble or Plebeyan, what e're thou art: how earnestly must thou needs by this time expect this Prologue, supposing that thou must finde in it nothing but Revenge, Brawling, and Ray∣ling upon the Authour of the second Don-Quixote, of whom I only say as others say, that hee was begot in Tordesillas, and borne in Tarragona? the truth is, herein I mean not to give thee content. Let it bee never so generall a Rule, that injuries awaken and rouze up choler in humble brests, yet in mine must this Rule admit an exception: Thou, it may bee, wouldst have me be-Asse him, be-Madman him, and be-Fool him; but no such matter can enter into my thought; no, let his own Rod whip him; as hee hath brewed, so let him bake; elsewhere hee shall have it: and yet there is somewhat which I cannot but resent, and that is, that he expro∣bates unto me my age and my mayme [He lost one of his hands] as if it had been in my power to hold Time back, that so it should not passe upon me, or if my mayme had befaln me in a Tavern, and not upon the most famous occasion which either the ages past or present have seen, [At the Battell of Lepanto] nor may the times to come look for the like: If my Wounds shine not in the eyes of such as behold them; yet shall they be esteemed at least in the judgement of such as know how they were got∣ten. A Souldier had rather bee dead in the Battell, then free by run∣ing away: And so is it with me, that should men set before me and fa∣cilitate an impossibilitie, I should rather have desired to have been in that prodigious action, then now to bee in a whole skinne free from my skars for not having been in it. The skars which a Souldier shews in his face and brest, are starrs which lead others to the Haven of Honour, and to the desire of just Praise: and besides it may bee noted, that it is not so much mens Pens which write as their Judgements; and these use to be better'd with yeers. Nor am I insensible of his calling me Envious, and describing me as an ignorant. What Envie may be, I vow seri∣ously, that of those two sorts that are, I skill not; but of that Holy, No∣ble, and ingenious Envie, which being so, as it is, I have no meaning to abuse any Priest; especially if he hath annexed unto him the title of FA∣MILIAR of the Inquisition: and if he said so, as it seems by this se∣cond Authour that hee did, he is utterly deceived; For I adore his Wit, admire his Works, and his continuall virtuous imployment; and yet in effect I cannot but thank this sweet Senior Authour, for saying that my Novells are more Satyrick then Exemplar; and that yet they are good, which they could not be, were they not so quite thorow. It seems thou

tellest me that I write somewhat limited and obscurely, and contain my self within the bounds of my modestie, as knowing that a man ought not add misery to him that is afflicted, which doubtlesse must needs bee ve∣ry great in this Senior, since he dares not appear in open Field in the light, but conceals his Name, fains his Countey, as if hee had commit∣ted some Treason against his King. Well, if thou chance to light upon him and know him, tell him from me, that I hold for my self no whit agrieved at him; for I well know what the temptations of the Di∣vell are; and one of the greatest is, when hee puts into a mans head, that he is able to compose and print a Book, whereby hee shall gain as much Fame as Money, and as much Money as Fame: For confirmation hereof, I intreat thee, when thou art disposed to be merry & pleasant, to tell him this Tale.

There was a Mad-man in Sevill which hit upon one of the prettiest absurd tricks that ever Mad-man in this world lighted on; which was: He made him a Cane sharp at one end, and then catching a Dogge in the street, or elsewhere, he held fast one of the Doggs Leggs under his Foot, and the other he held up with his hand. Then fitting his Cane as well as he could behinde, he fell a blowing till he made the Dogge as round as a Ball: and then, holding him still in the same manner, he gave him two claps with his hand on the Belly, and so let him goe, saying to those which stood by (which alwaies were many) How think you, my Ma∣sters? Is it a small matter to blow up a Dogge like a Bladder? And how think you is it a small matter to make a Book? If this Tale should not fit him; then, good Reader, tell him this other; for this also is of a Mad-man and a Dogge. In Cordova was another Mad-man, which was wont to carry on his head a huge peece of Marble, not of the lightest, who meeting a Masterlesse Dogge, would stalk up close to him; and on a suddain down with his burden upon him: the Dogge would presently yearn, and barking and yelling run away; three streets could not hold him. It fell out afterwards among other Doggs (upon whom hee let fall his load) there was a Cappers Dogge, which his Master made great account of, upon whom he let down his great stone and took him full on the head: the poor batter'd Curre cries pittifully: his Master spies it; and affected with it, gets a meat-yard, assaults the Mad-man, and leaves him not a whole bone in his skinne; and at every blow that he gave him he cries out, Thou Dogge, Thou Thief, my Spaniell! Saw'st thou not, thou cruell Villain, that my Dogge was a Spaniell? And ever and anon repeating still his Spaniell, he sent away the Mad-man all black and blue. The Mad-man was terribly skared herewith, but got away, and for more then a moneth after never came abroad: At last out he comes with his invention again, and a bigger load then before; and comming where the Dogge stood, viewing him over and over again very heedily, he had no minde, he durst not let goe the stone, but only said, Take heed, this is a Spaniel. In fine whatsoever Doggs he met, though they were Mastives or Fysting-Hounds, he still said they were Spaniels. So that after that, he never durst throw his great stone any

more. And who knows but the same may befall this our Historian, that he will no more let fall the prize of his wit in Books? for in being naught, they are harder then Rocks: Tell him too, that for his mena∣cing, that with his Book he will take away all my gain, I care not a straw for him; but betaking my self to the famous Interlude of Perendenga, I answer him, Let the old man my Master live, and Christ be with us all. Long live the great Conde de Lemos (whose Christianity and well known Liberallitie against all the blows of my short Fortune keepes me on foot) And long live that eminent Charitie of the Cardinall of Toledo, Don Bernardo de Sandovaly Rojas. Were there no printing in the World, or were there as many Books printed against me, as there are letters in the Rimes of Mingo Revulgo, those two Princes without any solicitation of flatterie, or any other kinde of applause, of their sole bounty have ta∣ken upon them to doe me good, and to favour me; wherein I account my self more happy and rich, then if Fortune, by some other ordinary way, had raised me to her highest Honour: a Poor man may have it, but a Vicious man cannot: Povertie may cast a mist upon Noblenesse, but cannot altogether obscure it; but, as the glimmering of any light of it self, though but thorow narrow chinks and cranies, comes to be esteem∣ed by high and Noble Spirits, and consequently favoured. Say no more to him; nor will I say any more to thee; but only advertise that thou consider that this second part of Don-Quixote, which I offer thee, is fra∣med by the same Art, and cut out of the same Cloth that the first was: in it I present thee with Don-Quixote enlarged, and at last dead and buri∣ed, that so no man presume to raise any farther reports of him; those that are past are enow: and let it suffice that an honest man may have given notice of these discreet follies, with purpose not to enter into them any more. For plenty of any thing, though never so good, makes it lesse e∣steemed; and scarcity (though of evill things) make them somewhat accounted of, I forgot to tell thee that thou mayest expect Persiles, which I am now about to finish; as also the second part of Galatea.