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

CHAP. X.

How Sancho cunningly Inchanted the Lady Dulcinea, and other successes, as ridiculous as true.

THe Authour of this History coming to relate that which hee doth in this Chapter, sayes; That hee would willingly have passed it over in silence, as fearing not to bee beleeved; because here Don-Quixotes madnesse did exceed, and was at least two flight-shots beyond his greatest that ever was: but for all this fear and suspition, hee set it down as t'other acted it, without adding or diminishing the least jot of truth in the Historie, not caring for any thing that might bee objected against him for a lyer: and hee had••reason; for truth is stretcht, but never breaks, and tramples on the lie as oyle doth upon water; and so prosecuting his Histo∣rie, hee sayes; That as Don-Quixote had shaded himself in the Forrest or Oake-Wood neer the grand Toboso: hee willed Sancho to return to the City, and not to come to his presence, without hee had first spoken to his Mistris from him, requesting her that shee would please to bee seen by her captiv'd Knight, and to daigne to bestow her bles∣sing on him, that by it hee might hope for many most prosperous successes in all his on∣sets and dangerous enterprizes. Sancho took on him to fulfill his command, and to bring him now as good an answer as the former.

Goe Lad (said Don-Quixote) and bee not daunted when thou comest before the beams of the Sunne of Beauty, which thou goest to discover: Oh happy thou above all the Squires of the world! bee mindefull, and forget not how shee entertains thee; if shee blush just at the instant when thou deliverest my Embassie; if shee bee stirred and troubled when she heares my name; whether her cushion cannot hold her; if shee bee set in the rich state of her Authority: And if shee stand up, mark her whether shee clap sometimes one foot upon another; if shee repeat the answer shee gives thee twice or thrice over; or change it from milde to curst, from cruell to amorous; whether she seem to order her haire, though it bee not disorderd: Lastly, observe all her actions and gestures; for if thou relate them just as they were, I shall ghesse what is hidden in her heart, touching my Love in matter of fact: for know Sancho, if thou knowest it not, that the actions and outward motions that appear (when love is in treaty) are the certain Messengers that bring news of what passeth within. Goe friend; and better fortune guide thee then mine, and send thee better successe then I can expect 'twixt hope and feare in this uncouth solitude in which thou leavest me.

I goe (said Sancho) and will return quickly: Enlarge that little heart of yours, no bigger then an Hasell-nur, and consider the saying, Faint heart never, &c. Sweet meat must have sowre sauce: And another, Where wee least think, there goes the Hare away, This I say, because that if to night wee found not the Castle or Palace of my Lady, now by day I doubt not but to finde it, when I least dream of it, and so to finde her. Be∣leeve me Sancho (quoth Don-Quixote) thou alwaies bringest thy Proverbs so to the haire of the businesse wee treat of, as God give mee no worse Fortune then I desire.

This said, Sancho turned his back and switched his Dapple; and Don Quixote stayd a horse-back easing himself on his stirrops, and leaning on his Launce, full of sorrowfull and confused thoughts where wee will leave him, and wend with Sancho, who parted from his Master no lesse troubled and pensative then hee; insomuch that hee was scarce out of the Wood, when turning his face, and seeing that Don-Quixote was out of sight, hee lighted from his Asse, and resting at the foot of a Tree, hee began to discourse thus

to himself, and say; Now brother Sancho, I pray let's know; whither is your Wor∣ship going? To seek some Asse that you have lost? No forsooth. Well; what is it you seek for? I seek (a matter of nothing) a Princesse, and in her the Sunne of Beauty, and all Heaven withall. And where doe you think to finde this you speak of Sancho? Where? Why in the grand Citie of Toboso. Well, and from whom doe you seek her? From the most famous Knight Don-Quixote de la Mancha, hee that righteth wrongs, gives the thirsty meat, and the hungry drink: [Mistakes of simplicity.] All this is well: And doe you know her house Sancho? My Master sayes, it is a Royall Palace, or a lofty Towre. And have you ever seen her trow? Neither hee nor I, never. And doe you think it were well, that the men of Toboso should know, that you were here to entice their Princesses, and to trouble their Wenches, and should come and grinde your ribs with bangs, and leave you never a sound bone? Indeed belike they should consider that you are commanded friend, but as a Messenger, that you are in no fault, not you. Trust not to that Sancho; for your Manchegan People are as cholerick as honest, and doe not love to bee jested with. In very deed if they smell you, you are sure to pay for it. Ware Hawk, ware Hawk: No, no, let me for anothers pleasure seeke better bread then's made of Wheat; and I may as well finde this Dulcinea as one Mary in Robena, [As if we should say, one Jone in London,] or a Scholler in black in Salamanca: The Devill, the Devill, and none else hath clapt me into this businesse. This Soliloquy passed Sancho with himself, and the upshot was this.

All things (said he) have a remedy but death, under whose yoke wee must all passe in spite of our teethes, when life ends. This Master of mine, by a thousand signes that I have seen, is a Bedlam, fit to be bound, and I come not a whit short of him, and am the greater Cox-combe of two, to serve him, if the Proverbe bee true that sayes Like master, like man; and another; Thou art known by him that doth thee feed, not by him that doth thee breed. Hee being thus mad then, and subject, out of mad∣nesse, to mistaking of one thing for another, to judge black for white, and white for blacke, as appeared, when he sayd, the winde-mils were Gyants, and the Friers mules, Dromedaries, and the flocks of sheep, armies of enemies, and much more to this tune; it will not be hard to make him beleeve, that some husband-mans daughter, the first we meet with, is the Lady Dulcinea: and if he beleeve it not, Ile swear; and if hee swear, Ile out-swear him; and if he be obstinate, Ile be so more: and so, that I will stand to my tackling, come what will on it. Perhaps with mine obstinacy I shall so pre∣vaile with him, that hee will send mee no more upon these kinde of Messages, see∣ing what bad dispatch I bring him; or perhaps hee will thinke, that some wicked Enchanter, one of those that hee saies persecute him, hath changed her shape, to vexe him.

With this conceit Sancho's spirit was at rest, and he thought his businesse was brought to a good passe; and so staying there till it grew to bee toward the Evening, that Don-Quixote might think he spent so much time in going and comming from Toboso, all fell out happily for him; for when he got up to mount upon Dapple, hee might see three Countrey wenches coming towards him from Toboso, upon three Asse-colts, whether male or female, the Author declares not, though it be likely they were shee-Asses, they being the ordinary beasts that those country-people ride on: but because it is not very pertinent to the story, we need not stand much upon deciding that. In fine, when San∣cho saw the three country-wenches, he turned back apace to find out his Master Don-Quixote, and found him sighing, and uttering a thousand amorous lamentations.

As soone as Don-Quixote saw him, he said; how now Sancho, what is the matter? May I marke this day with a white or a black stone? 'Twere fitter quoth Sancho, you would marke it with red-Oker, as the Inscriptions are upon Professors chaires, that they may plainly read that see them. Belike then (quoth Don-Quixote) thou bringest good news. So good said Sancho, that you need no more but spur Rozinante, and straight discover the Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, with two Damzells waiting on her, coming to see your worship. Blessed God! friend Sancho, what sayest thou quoth Don-Quixote? See thou deceive me not with thy false myrth to glad my true sorrow.

What should I get by deceiving you quoth Sancho, the rather your selfe being so neer to discover the truth? Spur Sir, ride on, and you shall see our Mistris the Princesse coming, clad indeed and adorned like her selfe: Shee and her Damzels are a very spark of gold; they are all ropes of Pearle; all Diamonds; all Rubies; all cloth of Gold ten stories high at least: Their haires hung loose over their shoulders, that were like so many Sun-beams playing with the winde, and besides all this, they are mounted upon three flea-bitten Nackneys, the finest sight that can bee. Hackneyes thou would'st say Sancho. Hackney or Nackney quoth Sancho, there is little difference; but let them come upon what they will, they are the bravest Ladies that can be imagined, especially my La∣dy the Princesse Dulcinea that dazles the sences.

Let's goe sonne Sancho quoth Don-Quixote, and for a reward for this unlook't for good news, I bequeathe thee the best spoyle I get in our first Adventure next, and if this content thee not, I give thee my this yeeres Colts by my three Mares thou knowest I have to foale in our towne Common. The Colts I like quoth Sancho, but for the goodnesse of the spoyle of the first Adventure I have no minde to that. By this they came out of the wood, and saw the three Country-wenches neere them. Don-Quixote stretcht his eyes all over Toboso way, and seeing none but the three wenches, he was som∣what troubled, and demanded of Sancho, if he had left them comming out of the Citty. How, out of the City quoth Sancho, are your eyes in your noddle, that you see them not coming here, shining as bright as the Sunne at noone? I see none said he, but three wenches upon three Asses.

Now God keep me from the Devill (quoth Sancho:) and is it possible that three Hackneyes, or how call ye um, as white as a flake of snow, should appeare to you to be Asses? As sure as may be, you shall pull of my beard if that be so. Well, I tell you, friend Sancho, 'tis as sure that they are Hee, or Shee Asses, as I am Don-Quixote de la Mancha, and thou Sancho Panca; at least to me they seem so.

Peace, Sir (quoth Sancho) and say not so, but snuffe your eyes, and reverence the Mistris of your thoughts, for now she drawes neere: and so saying he advanced to meet the three Country-wenches, and alighting from Dapple, tooke one of their Asses by the halter, and fastning both his knees to the ground, said, Queen, and Princesse, and Dutchesse of beauty, let your Haughtinesse and Greatnesse be pleased, to receive into your grace and good liking, your captiv'd Knight that stands yonder turned in∣to marble, all amazed and without his pulse, to see himselfe before your Magnifi∣cent Presence. I am Sancho Panca his Squire, and he is the Way-beaten Knight Don-Quixote de la Mancha, otherwise called The Knight of the Sorrowfull Counte∣nance.

And now Don-Quixote was on his knees by Sancho, and beheld with unglad, but troubled eyes, her that Sancho called Queene and Lady; but seeing he discovered nothing in her but Country-wench, and not very well-favoured, for shee was blub-fac'd, and flat-nosed; he was in some suspence, and durst not once open his lips. The wenches too were astonisht, to see those two so different men upon their knees, and that they would not let their companion goe forward. But she that was stayed, an∣gry to heare her self misused, broke silence first, saying; Get you out of the way with a mischief, and let's be gone, for we are in haste.

To which quoth Sancho. Oh Princesse and universall Lady of Toboso, why doth not your magnanimous heart relent, seeing the Pillar and Prop of Knight Errantry prostra∣ted before your sublimated presence? Which when one of the other two heard, after shee had cried out to her Asse, that was turning aside, shee said: Looke how these Yonkers come to mock at poore Country-folke, as if wee knew not how to returne their flouts upon them; get you gone your way and leave us, you had best. Rise San∣cho, quoth Don-Quixote, at this instant, for I perceive now, that mine ill fortune, not satisfied, hath shut up all the passages by which any content might come to this my wretched Soule within my flesh. Oh thou! the extreme of all worth to be desired, the bound of all humane gentlenesse, the only remedy of this mine afflicted Heart that a∣dores thee, now that the wicked Enchanter persecutes mee, and hath put Clouds and

Cataracts in mine eyes; and for them only, and none else, hath transformed and changed thy peerlesse beauty and face into the face of a poor Countrey-Wench; if so be now hee have not turned mine too into some Hobgoblin, to make it loathsome in thy sight, look on me gently and amorously, perceiving by this submission and kneeling which I use to thy counterfeit beauty, the humilitie with which my Soule adores thee.

Marry muff (quoth the Countrey-Wench) I care much for your courtings: Get you gone, and let us goe, and wee shall bee beholding to you. Sancho let her passe by him, most glad that hee had sped so well with his device. The Countrey-Wench that played Dulcinea's part was no sooner free, when spurring her Hackney with a prickle shee had at the end of her cudgell, shee began to run apace; and the Asle feeling the smart of it more then ordinary, began to wince so fast, that down came my Lady Dul∣cinea; which when Don-Quixote saw, hee came to help her up, and Sancho went to order and gird her Pack-saddle, that hung at the Asses belly; which being fitted, and Don-Quixote about to list his inchanted Mistris in his armes to her Asse, shee being now got upon her legs, saved him that labour; for stepping a little back, shee fetcht a rise, and clapping both her hands upon the Asses crupper, shee lighted as swift as an Hawke upon the Pack-saddle, and sate astride like a man.

Then said Sancho: By Saint R••que our Mistris is as light as a Robbin-ruddock, and may teach the cunningest Cordovan or Mexicanian to ride on their Ginets: At one spring shee hath leapt over the crupper, and without spurs makes the Hackney runne like a Musk-Cat, and her Damzels come not short of her; for they flie like the winde. And hee said true: for when Dulcinea was once on horse-back, they all made after her, and set a running for two miles without looking behinde them.

Don-Quixote still looked after them: but when they were out of sight, turning to Sancho, hee said; Sancho, how thinkest thou? How much Inchanters doe hate me? And see how farre their malice extends, and their aime at me, since they have deprived me of the happinesse I should have received to have seen my Mistris in her true being. Indeed I was borne to bee an example of unfortunate men, to bee the Mark and Butt, at which ill-Fortunes arrows should bee sent: And thou must note Sancho, that these Enchanters were not content to have changed and transformed my Dulcinea; but they have done it into a shape so base and ugly, as of a Countrey-Wench thou sawest; and withall, they have taken from her that which is so proper to her and great Ladies, to wit, her sweet sent of flowers and Amber: for let me tell thee Sancho, that when I went to help Dulcinea to her Hackney (which as thou sayest, seemed to me to bee a shee-Asse) shee gave mee such a breath of raw Garlick, as piere't and intoxicated my brain.

O base rowt, cried out Sancho instantly! Oh dismall and ill-minded Enchanters! I would I might see you all strung up together like Galls, or like Pilchers in shoals: cunning you are, much you can, and much you doe: it had been enough for you Rascals, to have turned the Pearls of my Ladies eyes into Corkie Galls, and her most pure gol∣den Haire into Bristles of a red Oxes taile; and finally, all her feature from good to bad, without medling with her Breath; for only by that wee might have ghessed what was concealed under that course rinde; though, to say true, I never saw her course∣nesse, but her beauty, which was in••initely increased by a Moale shee had upon her lipp, like a Mostacho, with seven or eight red haires like threeds of gold, and above a handfull long. To this Moale (quoth Don-Quixote) according to the correspondencie that those of the face have with those of the body; shee hath another in the table of her thigh that corresponds to the side, where that of her face is: but haires of that length thou speakest of, are very much for Moals. Well, I can tell you (quoth Sancho) that there they appeared, as if they had been borne with her. I beleeve it friend (replyed Don-Quixote;) for nature could form nothing in Dulcinea that was not perfect and complete; and so, though shee had a hundreth Moales, as well as that one thou sawest in her, they were not Moals, but Moons and bright Stars.

But tell me Sancho, that which thou did'st set on, which seemed to me to bee a pack∣saddle,

was it a plane saddle or a saddle with a back? It was said Sancho a Ginet saddle, with a field covering, worth halfe a Kingdom for the richnesse of it. And could not I see all this? Well now I say again, and will say it a thousand times, I am the unhappiest man alive. The crack-rope Sancho had enough to doe to hold laughter, hearing his Ma∣sters madnesse, that was so delicately gulled.

Finally, after many other reasons that passed betwixt them both, they gate up on their beasts, and held on the way to Saragosa, where they thought to bee fitly, to see the solemnities that are performed once every yeer in that famous City. But before they came thither, things befell them, that because they are many, famous and strange, they deserve to be written and read, as shall be seen here following.