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

CHAP. II.

Of the notable fray that Sancho Panca had with the Neece & the old-Woman, and other delightfull passages.

THe Story sayes, that the noyse which Don-Quixote, the Vicar and the Barber heard, was of the Neece and the old woman, that were rating Sancho Panca, that strove with them for entrance to see Don-Quixote, who kept dore against him. What will this blood-hound have here? said they, Get you home to your own house, for you are he and none else, that doth distract and ring-lead our Master, and carry him astray. To which (quoth Sancho) Woman of Satan, I am hee that is distracted, ring-led, and carried astray, and not your Master: t'was he that led me up and downe the world, and you deceive your selves and understand by halves: hee drew me from my house with his cony-catching, promising mee an Island, which I yet hope for. A plague of your Islands (replied the Neece) cursed Sancho: and what be your Islands? is it any thing to eat, good-man glutton, you cormorant, as you are? 'Tis not to eat (quoth Sancho) but to rule and governe, better then foure Citties, or foure of the Kings Judges. For all that (said the old woman) you come not in heer, you bundle of mischiefe and sacke of wickednesse, get you home and governe there, and sow your graine, and leave seeking after Islands or Dilands. The Vicar and the Barber tooke great delight to heare this Dialogue betweene the three: But Don-Quixote, fearing lest Sancho should out with all, and should blunder out a company of mallcious fooleries, or should touch upon poynts that might not be for his reputation, he called him to him, and commanded the women to be silent, and to let him in. Sancho entred, and the Vicar and Barber tooke leave of Don-Quixote, of whose recovery they dispaired, seeing how much he was bent upon his wilde thoughts, and how much he was besotted with his damned Knights Errant. So (quoth the Vi∣car to the Barber) you shall quickly, Gossip, perceive, when we least think of it, that

our Gallant takes his flight againe by the river. No doubt (said the Barber) but I wonder not so much at the Knights madnesse, as the Squires simplicity, that beleeves so in the Islands, and I think all the Art in the world will not drive that out of his noddle. God mend them (said the Vicar) and let us expect what issue the mul∣titude of this Knight and Squires absurdities will have: for it seemes they were both framed out of one forge, as it were, for the Masters madnes without the Servants folly, is not worth a chip. 'Tis true (said the Barber) and I should bee glad to know their present discourse. I warrant (said the Vicar) the Neece and old woman will tell us all when they have done, for they are not so mannerly as not to harken. In the In∣terim, Don-Quixote locked in Sancho, and thus discoursed with him: I am very sorry, Sancho, you should affirme and make good, that I was hee that drew you from your dog-hole cottage, knowing that I willingly left mine, a Palace in comparison; we went out joyntly, so we marched on, and so we held our whole peregrination; both of us having undergone the same lot, the same fortune; and if once thou wast tossed in a Blanket, I have been hanged an hundred times, and herein have I the advantage of thee. Why, it was very fit (answered Sancho) for (as you hold) misfortunes are more annexed to Knights Errant then to their Squires. Thou art deceived, Sancho, (quoth Don-Quixote: for according to the saying, Quando caput dolet, &c. I un∣derstand no other language but mine owne, said Sancho. Why I mean (replied Don-Quixote) that when the head akes, all the body is out of tune: so that I being thy Lord and Master, am thy head, and thou a part of me, since thou art my servant, in which respect, the ill that toucheth me, must concerne and grieve thee, and so thine me. Indeed (quoth Sancho) it ought to be so: but when I was tossed in the Blanket, my head stood aloof, like a part, beholding me fly in the aire, without any feeling my grief, and since the members are bound to suffer for the head, the head in requitall should also suffer for them. You mean, Sancho (quoth Don-Quixote) that I had no feeling of your being tossed? And if you mean so, doe not, neither imagine any such thing: for at that time, I was more vext in spirit, then thou couldst be in body: but leave we this for the present: for we shall have leisure to consider and rectifie it: and tell me, friend Sancho, what say the common people of me? In what estimation doe the Gentlemen hold me? In what the Knights and Gallants? What say they of my valour? What of my exployts? What of my affability? What discourse they touch∣ing my plot in raising and restoring to the world, the long forgotten order of Knight Errantry? To conclude, I would have thee tell me all that thou hast heard: and you must tell me, without adding to my praise, or diminishing my dispraise, for it is the part of loyall servants, to tell the naked truth to their Masters, in its native colour, without increasing it by flattery, or diminishing it for any other vain respect; And I would have thee, Sancho, learne by the way, that if the naked truth should come to the eares of Princes, without the apparrell of flattery, we should have another man∣ner of world, and other ages would be called iron, and not ours, and this would be the golden age. And let me advise thee, Sancho, that well and discreetly thou tell me the truth of what thou knowest, concerning my demand. I shall with a very good will, Sir, (quoth Sancho) upon condition that you shall not be angry at what I shall tell you, since you will have the naked truth, without any other clothing then what I have seen her with. By no means will I be angry (answered Don-Quixote) thou mayst speake freely, Sancho, and without any disguise. Why then, first of all I must tell you, the common people hold you for a notable mad-man, and that I am no lesse Cox-combe. The ordinary Gentlemen say, that not containing your selfe within the limits of Gentrie, you will needs be Don your selfe, and be a man of honour, ha∣ving but three or foure acres of land, and a rag before, and another behinde. The Knights say, they would not have your poor Squires be ranked with them, that clout their owne shooes, and take up a stitch in their owne blacke stockings with green silke. That concerns not me (quoth Don-Quixote) for thou seest that I goe alwaies well clad, and never patcht: indeed a little torne sometimes, but more with my armour, then by long wearing.

Concerning your valour (quoth Sancho) your affability, your exploits, and your plot, there bee different opinions: Some say you are a mad man but a merry one; o∣thers that you are valiant but, withall, unfortunate; a third sort, that you are affable but impertinent: and thus they descant upon us, that they leave neither you nor mee a sound bone. Why looke thou Sancho (quoth Don-Quixote) wheresoever virtue is emi∣nent, it is persecuted; few or none of those brave Hero's that have lived, have scaped malicious calumniation. Iulius Caesar, that most couragious, most wise, most valiant Captaine, was noted to bee ambitious, and to bee somwhat slovenly in his apparell and his conditions. Alexander, who for his exploits obtayned the title of Great, is said to have beene given to drunkennesse: Hercules, hee with his many labours, was said to have beene lascivious and a Striker. Don Galaor, brother to Amadis de Gaul, was grudged at for being offensive; and his brother for a Sheep-biter. So that Sancho, since so many worthy men have beene calumniated, I may well suffer mine, if it have beene no more then thou tellest mee. Why, there's the quiddity of the matter; Body of my Father, quoth Sancho. Was there any more said then, quoth Don-Quixote? There's more behinde yet, ••aid, Sancho, all that was said hitherto, is Cakes and white∣bread to this: But if you will know all concerning these calumnies, I'le bring you one hither by and by that shall tel um you all without missing a scrap; for last night Bartholo∣mew Carrascoes sonne arived, that comes from studie from Salamanca, and hath pro∣ceeded Batchelour, and as I went to bid him welcome home, hee told mee that your Historie was in print, under the Title of the most ingenious Gentleman Don-Quixote de la Mancha; and hee tells mee that I am mentioned too, by mine owne name of Sancho Panca, and Dulcinea del Toboso is in too, and other matters that passed betwixt us, at which I was amazed, and blessed my selfe how the Historian that wrote them could come to the knowledge of them. Assute thee Sancho (said Don-Quixote) the Authour of our Historie is some sage Enchanter: for such are not ignorant of all se∣crets they write, Well (said Sancho) if hee were wise and an Enchanter, I will tell you according as Samstn Carrasco told mee, for that's the mans name that spoke with mee, that the Authors name of this Historie is Cid Hamete Beregena [it should bee Benengeli, but Sancho simply mistakes, as followeth in the next note.] That is the name of a Moore, (said Don-Quixotes.) It is very like (quoth Sancho) for your Moors are great lovers of Berengens, [Berengena is a fruit in Spayne which they boyle with sod meate, as wee doe Carrats, and here was Sanchoes simplicitie in mistaking, and to thinke that name was given to the Author for loving the fruit.] Sancho (said Don-Quixote) you are out in the Moores Sirname; which is Cid Hamete Benengeli: And Cid in the Arabicke signifieth Lord. It may bee so (quoth Sancho) but if you will have the Bat∣chelour come to you, Ile bring him to you flying. Friend (quoth Don-Quixote) thou shalt doe mee a speciall pleasure, for I am in suspence with what thou hast told mee, and will not eate a bit till I am informed of all. Well, I goe for him (said Sancho) And leaving his Master in that his suspence, went for the Batchelour, with whom in a very short time after hee returned, and the three had a passing pleasant Dia∣logue.