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

CHAP. XVII.

Where is shewed the last and extreamest hazard, to which the unheard of courage of Don-Quixote did or could arrive, with the prospe∣rous accomplishment of the Adventure of the Lyons.

THe Historie sayes, That when Don-Quixote called to Sancho, to bring him his Helmet, hee was buying curds which the Sheepheards sold him; and being hastily laid at by his Master, hee knew not what to doe with them, or how to bestow them without losing them; for hee had payed for them; so hee bethought himself, and clapt them into his Masters Helmet; and this good order taken, hee went to see what hee would have; who, when hee came, said, Give mee, friend, that same Helmet; for either I know not what belongs to Adventures, or that I see yonder is one that will force me to take Armes. Hee of the green coat that heard this, turned his eyes every way, and saw nothing but a Cart that came toward them with two or three small flags, which made him think that the said Cart car∣ried the Kings money, and so hee told Don-Quixote; but hee beleeved him not, alwaies

thinking that every thing hee saw was Adventure upon Adventure: so hee answered the Gentleman, Hee that is warn'd is halfe arm'd: there is nothing lost in being pro∣vided; for I know by experience, that I have enemies visible and invisible; and I know not when, nor where, nor at what time, or in what shape they will set upon me: and turning to Sancho, hee demanded his Helmet, who wanting leisure to take the curds out, was forced to give it him as it was. Don Quixote took it, and not perceiving what was in it, clapt it suddainly upon his head; and as the curds were squeazed and thrust together, the whay began to run down Don Quixote face and beard; at which hee was in such a fright, that hee cryed out to Sancho; What ayles me Sancho? for me thinks my skull is softned, or my brains melt, or that I sweat from top to toe; and if it bee sweat, I assure thee it is not for fear, I believe certainly that I am like to have a terrible Adventure of this; give me something, if thou hast it to wipe on; for this aboundance of sweat blindes me. Sancho was silent and gave him a cloth, and with it thanks to God, that his Master fell not into the businesse. Don Quixote wiped himself, and took off his Helmet to see what it was, that (as hee thought) did be num his head, and seeing those white splaches in his Helmet, hee put them to his nose, and smelling to them, said, By my Mistris Dulcinea del Toboso's life, they are curds that thou hast brought me here, thou base Traitor and unmannerly Squire. To which Sancho very cunningly, and with a great deale of pawse answered: If they bee curds, give them me pray, and I'le eate; but let the Devill eat um, for hee put um there: Should I bee so bold as to foul your Worships Helmet? and there you have found (as I told you) who did it. In faith Sir, as sure as God lives, I have my Enchanters too that persecute me as a crea∣ture and part of you, and I warrant have put that silth there to stir you up to choller, and to make you bang my sides (as you use to doe.) Well, I hope this time they have lost their labour; for I trust in my Masters discretion, that hee will consider that I have neither curds nor milk, nor any such thing; for if I had, I had rather put it in my stomack then in the Helmet. All this may bee (said Don Quixote.)

The Gentleman observed all, and wondred, especially when Don Quixote, after hee had wiped his Head, Face, Beard, and Helmet, clapt it on again, setling himself well in his stirrops, searching for his Sword and grasping his Launce, hee cryed out: Now come on't what will, for here I am with a courage to meet Satan himself in per∣son.

By this, the Cart with the flags drew neere, in which there came no man but the Carter with his Mules, and another upon the formost of them. Don-Quixote put himself forward, and asked; Whither goe ye, my masters? what Cart is this? what doe you carry in it? and what colours be these? To which the Carter answered, The Cart is mine, the Carriage is two fierce Lyons caged up, which the Generall of O∣ran sends to the King at Court for a Present: these Colours be his Majesties, in signe that what goes here is his. And are the Lyons bigge, said Don-Quixote? So bigge (said he that went toward the Cart dore) that there never came bigger out of Africa into Spaine, and I am their keeper, and have carried others, but never any so bigge: they are Male and Female, the Male is in this first grate, the Female in the hinder∣most, and now they are hungry, for they have not eat to day, and therefore I pray Sir give us way; for we had neede come quickly where wee may meate them. To which (quoth Don-Quixote smiling a little) Your Lyon whelps to me? to me your Lyon whelps? and at this time of day? Well, I vow to God, your Generall that sends um this way shall know, whether I be one that am afraid of Lyons, Alight, honest fellow, and if you be the Keeper, open their Cages, and let me your beasts forth; for I'le make um know in the middest of this Champion, who Don-Quixote is, in spight of those Enchanters that sent um. Fye, fye, (said the Gentleman at this instant to himself) our Knight shewes very well what he is, the Curds have softned his skull, and ripned his braines. By this Sancho came to him and sayd; for Gods love handle the matter so, Sir, that my Master meddle not with these Lyons; for if he doe they'l worry us all. Why, is your Master so mad (quoth the Gentleman) that you feare, or beleeve hee will fight with wilde beasts? Hee is nor mad, sayd Sancho, but hardy. I'le make

him otherwise, said the Gentleman, and comming to Don-Quixote, that was haste∣ning the Keeper to open the Cages, sayd, Sir Knight, Knights Errant ought to un∣dertake adventures, that may give a likelihood of ending them well, and not such as are altogether desperate: for valour grounded upon rashnesse, hath more madnesse then fortitude. How much more, these Lyons come not to assayle you, they are car∣ried to bee presented to his Majesty, and therefore 'twere not good to stay or hin∣der their journey. Pray get you gone, gentle Sir (quoth 'Don-Quixote) and deale with your tame Partridge, & your murdring Ferret, and leave every man to his function: this is mine, and I am sufficient to know whether these Lyons come against me or no: so turning to the Keeper, he cried: By this-goodman slave, [Voto a tal. When hee would seeme to sweare, but sweares by nothing.] if you doe not forthwith open the Cage, I'le nayle you with my Launce, to your Cart. The Carter that perceived the resolution of that armed Vision, told him, Seignior mine, will you be pleased in charity to set me unyoke my Mules, and to put my selfe and them in safety, before I un∣sheath my Lyons? for if they should kill them, I am undone all dayes of my life, for I have no other living but, this Cart and my Mules. O thou wretch of little Faith (quoth Don-Quixote) light, and unyoke, and doe what thou wilt, for thou shalt see thou mightest have saved a labour. The Carter alighted, and unyoked hastily, and the keeper cryed out aloud, Beare witnesse, my Masters all, that I am forced a∣gainst my will to open the Cages and to let loose the Lyons, and that I protest to this Gentleman, that all the harme and mischiefe that these Beasts shall doe light upon him; besides that he pay me my wages and due. Shift you Sirs for your selves, before I open, for I am sure they'l doe mee no hurt. The Gentleman perswaded him the second time, that he should not attempt such a piece of madnesse; for such a folly was to tempt God.

To which Don-Quixote answered, that he knew what he did. The Gentleman re∣plyed, That he should consider well of it, for he knew he was deceived. Well, Sir, (sayd Don-Quixote) if you will not be a spectator of this (which you thinke Tragedy) pray spurre your Flea-bitten, and put your selfe in safety. Which when Sancho heard, with teares in his eyes, he beseeched him to desist from that enterprize, in comparison of which, that of the Winde-Mils was Cake-bread, and that fearefull one also of the Fulling-Mill, or all the exployts that ever he had done in his life. Looke ye, Sir (said Sancho) heer's no Enchantment, nor any such thing; for I have looked thorow the grates and chinkes of the Cages, and have seene a clawe of a true Lyon, by which clawe I ghesse the Lyon is as big as a mountaine.

Thy feare at least (said Don-Quixote) will make him as big as half the world. Get thee out of the way Sancho, and leave me, and if I die in the place, thou knowest our agree∣ment, repayre to Dulcinea, and that's enough.

To these he added other reasons, by which he cut off all hope of his leaving the prose∣cution of that foolish enterprize.

He of the Green-coat would have hindred him, but he found himself unequally mat∣ched in weapons, and thought it no wisdome to deale with a mad man; for now 'Don-Quixote appeared no otherwise to him, who hastning the Keeper a fresh, and reiterating his threats, made the Gentleman set spurs to his Mare, and Sancho to his Dapple, and the Carter to his Mules, each of them striving to get as far from the Cart as they could, before the Lyons should be unhampered.

Sancho bewailed his Masters losse; for he beleeved certainly that the Lyon would catch him in his pawes, he cursed his fortune, and the time that ever he came again to his Masters service; but for all his wailing and lamenting, he left not punching of Dapple, to make him get far enough from the Cart.

The Keeper when he saw those that fled far enough off, began anew to require and intimate to Don-Quixote, what he had formerly done; who answered, That he heard him, and that he should leave his intimations, for all was needlesse, and that he should make haste.

Whilest the Keeper was opening the first Cage, Don-Quixot began to consider,

whether it were best to fight on foote or on horseback: And at last hee determined it should bee on foote, fearing that Rozinante would bee afraid to looke upon the Ly∣ons, and thereupon he leaped from his horse, cast by his Lance, buckled his Shield to him, and unsheathed his Sword fair and softly, with a marvelous courage and valiant heart, he martched toward the Cart, recommending himselfe first to God, and then to his Lady Dulcinea.

And here it is to bee noted, that when the Authour of the true Historie came to this passage, hee exclames and cries. O strong (and beyond all comparison) couragious Don Quixote! Thou Looking-glasse, in which all the valiant Knights of the World may behold themselves! Thou new and second Don Manuel de Leon, who was the Honour and Glorie of the Spanish Knights: With what words shall I re∣count this fearefull exployt? Or with what Arguments shall I make it credible to en∣suing times? Or what Praises shall not fit and square with thee? Though they may seeme Hyperboles above all Hyperboles? Thou on foote, alone, undaunted and ma∣gnanimous, with thy Sword only, and that none of your cutting Fox-blades, with a Shield, not of bright and shining steele, expectest and attendest two of the siercest Lyons that ever were bred in African Woods. Let thine owne Deedes extoll thee, brave Manchegan: For I must leave um here abruptly, since I want words to endere them.

Here the Authors exclamation ceased, and the thred of the Story went knitting it selfe on, saying.

The Keeper seeing Don-Quixote in his posture, and that hee must needes let loose the Male Lyon, on paine of the bold Knights indignation, hee set the first Cage wide open, where the Lyon (as is said) was, of an extraordinary bignesse, fearfull and ugly to see to. The first thing hee did, was to tumble up and downe the Cage, stretch one paw, and rowze himselfe; forthwith hee yawned, and gently sneezed, then with his Tongue some two handfulls long, hee licked the dust out of his eyes, and washed his face; which done, hee thrust his head out of the Cage and looked round about him, with his eyes like fire-coles; a sight and gesture able to make Temeritie it selfe afraid. Only Don-Quixote beheld him earnestly, and wished hee would leape out of the Cart, that they might grapple, for hee thought to slice him in peeces. Hitherto came the extreme of his not-heard-of madnesse: But the generous Lyon, more courteous then arrogant, neglecting such childishnesse and bravadoes, after hee had looked round a∣bout him (as is said) turned his back, and shewed his Tayle to Don-Quixote, and very quietly lay downe againe in the Cage. Which Don-Quixote seeing, hee com∣manded the Keeper to give him two or three blowes to make him come forth. No, not I (quoth the Keeper) for if I urge him, I shall bee the first hee will teare in pee∣ces. I pray you Sir Knight, bee contented with your dayes worke, which is as much as could in valour be done, and tempt not a second hazard. The Lyons door was open, he might have come out if hee would; but since hee hath not hitherto, hee will not come forth all this day. You have well shewed the stoutnesse of your courage: no brave Combatant (in my opinion) is tyed to more then to defie his Enemie, and to expect him in field; and if his contrary come not, the disgrace is his, and he that expected, re∣maines with the prize.

True it is (answered Don-Quixote) friend, shut the dore, and give mee a Certifi∣cate in the best forme that you can, of what you have seene mee doe here: to wit, That you opened to the Lyon, that I expected him and hee came not out; that I expected him againe yet all would not doe, but hee lay downe. I could doe no more. Enchant∣ments avant, God maintaine right and truth, and true Chivalrie: shut (as I bad you) whilest I make signes to them that are fled, that they may know this exployt from thy Relation. The Keeper obeyed, and Don-Quixote putting his handkerchief on the point of his Lance, with which hee had wiped the Curd-showre from off his face, hee began to call those that fled, and never so much as looked behind them, all in a Troope, and the Gentleman the fore-man: But Sancho seeing the white cloth said, Hang mee if my Master have not vanquished the wilde-Beasts, since hee calls us. All of them made a

stand, and knew it was Don-Quixote that made the signe: So lessening their fear, by little and little they drew neer him, till they could plainly heare that he called them. At length they returned to the Cart: And Don-Quixote said to the Carter, Yoake your Mules again brother, and get you on your way: and Sancho, give him two Pi∣stolets in gold, for him and the Lyon-keeper, in recompence of their stay. With a very good will (said Sancho:) But what's become of the Lyons? are they alive or dead? Then the Keeper fair and softly began to tell them of the bickering, extolling, as well as hee could, Don-Quixotes valour, at whose sight the Lyon trembling, would not, or durst not sallie from the Cage, although the door were open a prettie while, and that because he had told the Knight, that to provoke the Lyon, was to tempt God, by making him come out by force (as hee would that hee should bee provoked in spight of his teeth, and against his will) hee suffered the doore to bee shut. What think you of this Sancho (quoth Don-Quixote?) Can Enchantment now prevail against true Valour? Well may Enchanters make me unfortunate; but 'tis impossible they should bereave me of my Valour.

Sancho bestowed the Pistolets, and the Carter yoaked; the Keeper tooke leave of Don-Quixote, and thanked him for his kindnesse, and promised him to relate his va∣lorous exploit to the King himself, when hee came to Court. Well, if his Majestie chance to ask who it was that did it, tell him The Knight of the Lyons: for hencefor∣ward, I will that my name bee trucked, exchanged, turned and changed now from that I had of The Knight of the sorrowfull Countenance; and in this I follow the ancient use of Knights Errant, that would change their names when they pleased, or thought it convenient.

The Cart went on it's way, and Don-Quixote, Sancho, and hee in the green held on theirs. In all this while Don Diego de Miranda spoke not a word, being busied in no∣ting Don-Quixotes speeches and actions, taking him to bee a wise mad-man, or a mad-man that came somewhat neer a wise man: Hee knew nothing as yet of the first part of his History; for if hee had read that, hee would have left admiring his words and deeds, since hee might have known the nature of his madnesse: But (for hee knew it not) the held him to be wise, & mad by fits; for what he spoke was consonant, elegant, and well delivered; but his actions were foolish, rash, and unadvised; And (thought hee to himself) what greater madnesse could there bee, then to clap on a Helmet full of Curds, and to make us beleeve that Enchanters had softned his skull? or what greater rashnesse or fopperie, then forcibly to venture upon Lyons? Don-Quixote drew him from these imaginations, saying, Who doubts, Seignior Don Diego de Miranda, but that you will hold me in your opinion for an idle fellow, or a mad-man; and no mar∣vell that I bee held so; for my Actions testifie no lesse; for all that, I would have you know that I am not so mad, or so shallow as I seem: It is a brave sight to see a goodly Knight in the mid'st of the Market-place before his Prince, to give a thrust with his Launce to a fierce Bull: [In Spain they use with Horse-men and Foot-men to course their Bulls to death in the Market-places.] And it is a brave sight to see a Knight armed in shining Armor passe about the Tilt-yard at the cheerfull Justs before the Ladies; and all those Knights are a brave sight that in Militarie exercises (or such as may seem so) doe entertain, revive, and honour their Princes Courts: but above all these, a Knight Errant is a better sight, that by Desarts and Wildernesses, by Crosse-waies and Woods, and Mountains, searcheth after dangerous Adventures, with a purpose to end them happily and fortunately, only to obtain glorious and lasting Fame. A Knight Errant (I say) is a better sight, succouring a Widdow in some Desart, then a Court Knight courting some Damzell in the Citie. All Knights have their particular exer∣cises: Let the Courtier serve Ladies, authorize his Princes Court with Liveries, su∣stain poor Gentlemen at his Table, appoint Justs, maintain Tourneyes, shew himself. Noble, Liberall, and Magnificent; and above all, Religious: and in these hee shall accomplish with his obligation. But for the Knight Errant, let him search the corners of the World; enter the most intricate Labyrinths; every foot undertake Impossi∣bilities, and in the Desarts and Wildernesse: let him resist the Sunne-beams in the

midest of Summer, and the sharp rigor of the Windes and Frosts in Winter: Let not Lyons fright him, nor Spirits terrifie him, nor Hobgoblins make him quake; for to seeke these to set upon them, and to overcome all, are his prime exercises, And since it fell to my Lot to bee one of the number of these Knights Errant, I cannot but undergoe all that I thinke comes under the jurisdiction of my profession. So that the encountring those Lyons did directly belong to mee, though I knew it to bee an exor∣bitant rashnesse; for well I know that valour is a virtue betwixt two vicious extremes, as cowardise and rashnesse: but it is lesse dangerous for him that is valiant, to rise to a point of rashnesse, then to fall or touch upon the Coward. For as it is more easie for a Prodigall man to bee liberall then a covetous, so it is easier for a rash man to bee true∣ly valiant, then a Coward to come to true valour. And touching the on-set in Adven∣tures, beleeve me Signior Don Diego, it is better playing a good trump then a small, for it sounds better in the hearers eares. Such a Knights is rash and hardy, then such a Knight is fearfull and cowardly.

I say, Signior (answered Don Diego) that all that you have said and done is levelled out by the line of Reason, and I thinke if the Statues and Ordinances of Knight Er∣rantry were lost, they might bee found againe in your brest, as in their owne Storehouse and Register; and so let us haste for the day growes on us, let us get to my Village and House, where you shall ease your selfe of your former labour; which, though it have not beene bodily, yet it is mentall, which doth often redound to the bodies wearinesse. I thanke you for your kinde offer, Signior (quoth Don-Quixote) and spurring on faster, about two of the clock they came to the Villag and Don Diego's House, whom Don-Quixote stiled, The Knight of the green-Cassock.