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

CHAP. XII.

Of the rare Adventure that befell Don-Quixote with the Knight of the Looking-Glasses.

DOn-Quixote and his Squire passed the ensuing night, after their Deaths encounter, under certain high and shadie Trees, Don-Quixote having first (by Sancho's entreaty) eaten somewhat of the Provision that came upon Dapple; and as they were at Supper Sancho said to his Master; Sir, what an Asse had I been, had I chosen for a reward, the spoiles of the first Adventure which you might end, rather then the breed of the three Mares? Indeed, indeed, a Bird in the Hand is better then two in the Bush.

For all that (quoth Don-Quixote) if thou, Sancho, hadst let me give the on-set (as I desired) thou hadst had to thy share, at least, the Empresses golden crown, and Cupid's painted wings, for I had taken um away against the haire, and given them thee. Your Players Scepters and Emperors crowns (said Sancho) are never of pure Gold, but Leaf and Tinne.

'Tis true (answered Don-Quixote) for it is very necessary that your Play-ornaments bee not fine, but counterfeit and seeming, as the Play it self is, which I would have thee, Sancho, to esteem of, and consequently the Actors too, and the Authors, because they are the Instruments of much good to a Common-wealth, beeing like Looking-glasses, where the Actions of humane life are lively represented; and there is no comparison that doth more truely present to us, what wee are, or what wee should bee, then Comedie and Comedians: If not, tell me; hast not thou seen a Play acted, where Kings, Emperors, Bishops, Knights, Dames, and other personages are intro∣duced? One playes a Russian, another the Cheater, this a Merchant, t'other a Soul∣dier; one a crafty Fool, another a foolish Lover: And the Comedie ended, and the apparell taken away, all the rehearsers are the same they were.

Yes marry have I (quoth Sancho.) Why, the same thing (said Don-Quixote) hap∣pens in the Comedy and Theater of this World, where some play the Emperors, other

the Bishops; and lastly, all the parts that may bee in a Comedie: but in the end, that is, the end of our life, Death takes away all the robes that made them differ, and at their buriall they are equall. A brave comparison (quoth Sancho;) but not so strange to me, that have heard it often, as that of the Chesse-play, that while the game lasts every Peer hath it's particular motion; and the game ended, all are mingled and shuffled together, and cast into a leathern bag, which is a kinde of buriall.

Every day Sancho (quoth Don-Quixote) thou growest wiser and wiser. It must needs bee (said Sancho) that some of your wisdome must cleave to me; for grounds that are dry and barren, by mucking and tilling them, give good fruit: I mean your conversation hath been the muck that hath been cast upon the sterill ground of my barren wit; and the time that I have served you, the tillage, with which I hope to render happie fruit, and such as may not gain-say or slide out of the paths of good manners, which you have made in my withered understanding.

Don-Quixote laughed at Sancho's affected reasons, and it seemed true to him, what hee had said touching his reformation: for now and then his talk admired him, al∣though for the most part, when Sancho spoke by way of contradiction, or like a Cour∣tier, hee ended his discourse with a downfall from the mount of his simplicitie, to the profunditie of his ignorance: but that wherein hee shewed himself most elegant and memorable, was in urging of Proverbs, though they were never so much against the haire of the present businesse, as hath been seen and noted in all this Historie.

A great part of the night they passed in these and such like discourses, but Sancho had a great desire to let fall the Port-cullices (as hee called them) of his eyes, and sleepe; and so undressing his Dapple, hee turned him freely to graze: with Rozinantes saddle he medled not, for it was his Masters expresse command, that whilest they were in field or slept not, within dores, he should not unsaddle him; it being an ancient custome observed by Knights Errant, to take the bridle and hang it at the saddle pummell; but beware taking away the saddle, which Sancho observed, and gave him the same liberty as to his Dapple, whose friendship and Rozinantes was so sole and united, that the re∣port goes by tradition from father to sonne, that the Author of this true History made particular chapters of it, only to keepe the decency and decorum due to so Heroick a Story: he omitted it, although somtimes he forgets his purpose herein, and writes, that as the two beasts were together, they would scratch one anothee, and being weari∣ed and satisfied, Rozinante would crosse his throat over Dapples neck at least halfe a yard over the other side; and both of them looking wistly on the ground, they would stand thus three dayes together, at least as long as they were let alone, or that hunger compelled them not to look after their provinder.

'Tis said (I say) that the Authour in his Story, compared them, in their friend∣shippe, to Nisus and Eurialus, to Pilades and Orestes, which if it were so, it may bee seene (to the generall admiration) how firm and stedfast the friendship was of these two pacifique beasts, to the shame of men, that so ill know the rules of friendship one to another. For this it was said, No falling out like to that of friends. And let no man think the Author was unreasonable, in having compared the friendship of these beasts, to the friendshippe of men; for men have received many items from Beasts, and learne many things of importance, as the Storks dung, the Dogs vomit and faithfullnesse, the Cranes watchfullnesse, the Ants providence, the Elephants honesty, and the Horses loyaltie.

At length Sancho fell fast a sleepe at the foote of a Corke-tree, and Don-Quixote re∣posed himselfe under an Oake: But not long after, a noyse behinde wakened him, and rising suddainly, hee looked and hearkned from whence the noyse came, and he saw two men on horseback, and the one tumbling from his saddle, said to the other; Alight friend, and unbridle our horses, for mee thinks this place hath pasture enough for them, and befits the silence and solitude of my amorous thoughts: thus he spoke, and stretche himselfe upon the stround in an instant, but casting himselfe down, his Armor where∣with he was armed, made a noyse; a manifest token that made Don-Quixote thinke hee was some Knight Errant, and comming to Sancho, who was fast asleepe, hee

pluck't him by the Arme, and told him softly. Brother Sancho, wee have an Adven∣ture. God grant it bee good (quoth Sancho) and where is this Master-Adventures. Worshippe? Where Sancho (replyed Don-Quixote) looke on one side, looke, and there thou shalt see a Knight Errant stretcht, who (as it appeares to mee) is not over much joyed, for I saw him cast himselfe from his Horse, and stretch on the ground, with some shewes of griefe, and as hee fell, hee crossed his Armes. Why, in what doe you perceive that this is an Adventure (quoth Sancho) I will not say (an∣swered Don-Quixote) that this is altogether an Adventure, but an Introduction to it, for thus Adventures begin.

But harke, it seemes hee is tuning a Lute or Violl, and by his spitting and cleering his brest, hee prepares himselfe to sing. In good faith you say right (quoth Sancho) and 'tis some enamoured Knight. There is no Knight Errant said (Don-Quixote) that is not so: Let us give care, and by the circumstance, wee shall search the Laby∣rinth of his thoughts, if so bee hee sing; for out of the abundance of the Heart, the Tongue speaketh. Sancho would have replyed to his Master; But the Knight of the woods voice (which was but so so) hindred him, and whilst the two were astonish't, he sung as followeth.

SONNET.

PERMIT mee, Mistris, that I follow may The bound, cut out just to your Hearts desire: The which, in mine I shall esteeme for aye, So that I never from it will retyre. If you hee pleas'd, my griefe (I silent) stay, And, die, make reckning that I straight expire, If I may tell it you, th' unusuall way, I will, and make l••ves selfe bee my supplyer. Fashion'd I am to proofe of contraries, As soft as waxe, as hard as Diamond too, And to Loves lawes, my soule her selfe applies, Or hard, or soft, my brest I offer you Graven, imprint in't what your pleasure is, I (secret) sweare it never to forgoe.

With a deep-fetcht, heigh-lo: even from the bottome of his heart, the Knight of the wood ended his song: and after some pause, with a grieved and sorrowfull voice uttered these words: Oh the fairest and most ungratefull woman in the world. And shall it be possible, most excellent Casildea de Vandalia, that thou suffer this thy cap∣tive Knight to pine and perish, with continuall pereg••inations, with hard and paine∣full labours? Sufficeth not, that I have made all the Knights of Navarre, of Leon, all the Tartesi••ns, all the Castilians confesse thee to be the fairest Lady of the world? I, and all the Knights of Mancha too? Not to, (quoth Don-Quixote straight) for I am of the Mancha, but never yeelded to that, for I neither could nor ought confesse a thing so prejudiciall to the beauty of my Mistris: and thou seest, Sancho, how much this Knight is wide: but let us hear him, it may be, he will unfold himself more. Mar∣ry will hee (quoth Sancho) for he talkes, as if he would lament a moneth togethe'r But it fell out otherwise; for the Knight of the wood, having over-heard that they talked somewhat neere him, ceasing his complaints, he stood up, and with a cleer, but familiar voice thus spake, Who's there, who is it? Is it haply some of the num∣ber of the contented, or of the afflicted? Of the afflicted (answered Don-Quixote.) Come to mee then (said he of the wood) and make account, you come to sadnesse it selfe, and to afflictions selfe. Don-Quixote, when hee saw himselfe answered so tenderly, and so modestly, drew neere, and Sancho likewise. The wailefull Knight

laid hold on Don-Quixotes arme, saying, Sit downe, Sir Knight: for to know that you are so, and one that professeth Knight Errantrie, it is enough that I have found you in this place, where solitarines, and the Serene beare you company, [Serene, the night∣dew that falls:] the naturall beds, and proper beings for Knights Errant.

To which Don-Quixote replied, A Knight I am, and of the profession you speake of, and though disgraces, misfortunes, and sorrowes have their proper seat in my minde: notwithstanding, the compassion I have to other mens griefs, hath not left it: by your complaints I ghesse you are enamoured, I meane, that you love that un∣gratefull faire one, mentioned in your laments. Whilst they were thus discoursing, they sat together lovingly upon the cold ground, as if by day breake, their heads also would not breake.

The Knight of the wood demanded, Are you happily enamoured, Sir Knight? Unhappily I am (quoth Don-Quixote) although the unhappinesse that ariseth from well-placed thoughts, ought rather to bee esteemed a happinesse then otherwise. True it is (replied he of the wood) if disdaines did not vexe our reason and understan∣ding, which being unmercifull, come neerer to revenge. I was never (said Don-Quixote) disdained of my Mistris. No indeed (quoth Sancho) who was neere them: for my Lady is as gentle as a lambe, and as soft as butter. Is this your Squire (said he of the wood?) He is (said Don-Quixote.) I ne're saw Squire (replied he of the wood) that durst prate so boldly before his Master, at least yonder is mine, as bigge as his father, and I can proove he never unfolded his lippes, whensoever I spake.

Well yfaith (quoth Sancho) I have spoken, and may speake before, as, and perhaps: but let it alone, the more it is stirred, the more it will stinke. The Squire of the wood tooke Sancho by the hand, saying: Let us goe and talke what we list Squire-like, and let us leave these our Masters, Let them fall from their launces and tell of their Loves: for I warrant you, the morning will overtake them, before they have done. A Gods name (quoth Sancho) and Ile tell you who I am, that you may see whether I may be admitted into the number of your talking Squires. So the two Squires went apart, betweene whom there passed as wittie a Dialogue, as their Master was serious.