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

CHAP. XXX.

What happened to Don-Quixote with the faire Huntresse.

VEry melancholy and ill at ease went the Knight and Squire to horse∣backe, especially Sancho, for it grieved him at the soule to meddle with the stocke of their money; for it seemed to him, that to part with any thing from thence, was to part with his eye-balls. To be briefe, without speaking a word, to horse they went, and left the famous river. Don-Quixote, buried in his amorous cogitations, and Sancho in those of his preferment; for as yet hee thought hee was farre enough off from obtaining it: for although hee were a foole, yet hee well perceived, that all his Masters actions, or the greatest part of them were idle: so hee sought after some occasion, that without entring into farther reckonings, or leave∣taking with his Master, hee might one day get out of his clutches, and goe home, but fortune ordered matters contrary to his feare. It fell out then, that the next day about Sun-setting, and as they were going out of a wood, Don-Quixote spreads his eyes about a green meadow, and at one end of it saw company, and comming neer, hee saw they were Falconers; hee came neerer, and amongst them beheld a gallant Lady upon her Palfrey, or milke-white Nagge, with green furniture, and her Saddle∣pummell of silver. The Lady her selfe was all clad in greene, so brave and rich, that bra∣very it selfe was transformed into her. On her left hand shee carried a Soare-Fal∣con, a signe that made Don-Quixote think shee was some great Lady, and Mistresse to all the rest, as true it was: so hee cried out to Sancho; Runne, sonne Sancho, and tell that Lady on the Palfrey with the Soare-hawke, that I, The Knight of the Lyons, doe kisse her most beautifull hands; and if her magnificence give me leave. I will receive her commands, and bee her servant to the uttermost of my power, that her highnesse may please to command mee in; and take heede, Sancho, how thou speakest, and have a care thou mixe not thy Ambassage with some of those Proverbs of thine. Tell mee of that? as if it were now the first time that I have carried Embassies to high and mighty Ladies in my life? Except it were that thou carriedst to Dulcinea (quoth Don-Quixote) I know not of any other thou hast carried, at least whilest thou wert with mee. That's true, said Sancho; but a good pay-master needs no surety: and where there is plenty, the ghests are not empty, I meane, there is no telling nor advising mee ought; for of all things I know a little. I beleeve it (said Don-Quixote) get thee gone in good time, and God speed thee.

Sancho went on, putting Dapple out of his pace with a Careere, and comming where the faire Huntresse was, alighting, hee kneeled downe, and said; Faire Lady, that Knight you see there, called The Knight of the Lyons, is my Master, and I am a Squire of his, whome at his house they call Sancho Panca; this said Knight of the Lyons, who not long since was called, The Knight of the sorrowfull Countenance, sends me to tell

your Greatnesse, That you bee pleased to give him leave, that with your liking, good will, and consent, hee put in practice his desire, which is no other (as hee sayes, and I beleeve) then to serve your lofty high-flying beauty: [For so it is in the Spanish to make the simple Squire speake absurdly enough, for in stead of Alteca, the Author makes him say Altaneria:] and if your Ladyship give him leave, you shall doe a thing that may redound to your good, and hee shall receive a most remarkeable favour and con∣tent.

Truely honest Squire, said the Ladie, thou hast delivered thy Ambassage with all the circumstances that such an Ambassage requires: Rise, rise, for the Squire of so renown∣ed a Knight as hee of The sorrowfull Countenance (of whom wee have here speciall no∣tice) 'tis not fit should kneel: Rise up friend, and tell your Master that hee come neer on Gods name, that the Duke my Husband and I may doe him service at a house of pleasure wee have here.

Sancho rose up astonish't, as well at the good Ladies beauty as her courtship and courtesie, especially for that shee told him shee had notice of his Master, The Knight of the sorrowfull Countenance; for in that shee called him not Knight of the Lyons, it was because it was so lately put upon him. The Duchesse asked him (for as yet wee know not of what place shee was Duchesse) tell me, Sir Squire, is not this your Master one of whom there is a History printed, and goes by the name of, The ingenious Gentleman, Don-Quixote de la Mancha, the Lady of whose life is likewise one Dulcinea del To∣boso? The very self-same (said Sancho) and that Squire of his that is or should bee in the Historie, called Sancho Panca am I, except I were changed in my cradle, I mean that I were changed in the Presse. I am glad of all this (quoth the Duchesse:) goe, brother Panca, and tell your Master that hee is welcome to our Dukedome, and that no news could have given mee greater content. Sancho, with this so acceptable an answer, with great pleasure returned to his Master, to whom hee recounted all that the great Ladie had said to him, extolling to the Heavens her singular beauty, with his rusticall tearms, her affablenesse and courtesie. Don-Quixote pranked it in his saddle, sate stiff in his stirrops, fitted his Visor, rowsed up Rozinante, and with a comely boldnesse went to kisse the Duchesses hands, who causing the Duke her Husband to bee called, told him, whilest Don-Quixote was comming, his whole Embassie: So both of them ha∣ving read his first part, and understood by it his besotted humour, attended him with much pleasure and desire to know him, with a purpose to follow his humour, and to give way to all hee should say, and to treat with him as a Knight Errant, as hee should bee with them, with all the accustomed ceremonies in Books of Knight Errantry, which they had read, and were much affected with.

By this Don-Quixote came with his Visor pulled up, and making shew to alight, Sancho came to have held his stirrop: but hee was so unluckie, that as hee was light∣ing from Dapple, one of his feet caught upon a halter of the pack-saddle, so that it was not possible for him to disintangle himselfe, but hung by it with his mouth and his brest to the ground-ward. Don-Quixote who used not to alight without his stirrops being held, thinking Sancho was already come to hold it, lighted sodainly down, but brought saddle and all to ground (belike being ill gyrt) to his much shame, and curses inwardly laid upon the unhappie Sancho, that had still his legg in the stocks. The Duke com∣manded some of his Falconers to help the Knight and Squire, who raised Don-Quixote in ill plight with his fall, and limping as well as he could, hee went to kneel before the two Lordings: but the Duke would not by any means consent, rather alighting from his horse hee embraced Don-Quixote, saying:

I am very sorrie Sir Knight of the sorrowfull Countenance, that your first fortune hath been so ill in my ground; but the carelesnesse of Squires is oft the cause of worse suc∣cesses. It is impossible, volorous Prince, that any should bee bad, since I have seen you, although my fall had cast me to the profound Abisme, since the glory of seeing you would have drawn me out and raised me up. My Squire (a curse light on him) unties his tongue better to speak maliciously, then hee gyrts his horses saddle to sit firmly: but howsoever I am down or up, on foot or on horse-back, I will alwaies bee at yours and

my Ladie the Duchesses service, your worthy Consort, the worthy Lady of beautie, and Princesse of universall courtesie. Softly, my Signior (Don-Quixote de la Mancha) qd. the Duke, for where my Lady Dulcinea del Toboso is present, there is no reason other beauties should be praised.

Now Sancho Panca was free from the noose, and being at hand, before his Master could answere a word, hee said, it cannot be denied but affirmed, that my Lady Dul∣cinea del Toboso is very faire; but where wee least thinke there goes the Hare away; for I have heard say, that shee you call Nature, is like a Potter that makes Vessells of Clay, and he that makes a handsome Vessell, may make two or three, or an hundred; this I say, that you may know my Lady the Duchesse comes not a whit behinde my Mi∣stresse the Lady Dulcinea del Toboso. Don-Quixote turned to the Duchesse, and said; Your Greatnesse may suppose that never any Knight in the world had ever such a prater to his Squire, nor a more conceited then mine, and hee will make good what I say, if your Highnesse shall at any time bee pleased to make Triall. To which quoth the Dutchesse, that honest Sancho may be conceited, I am very glad, a signe he is wise; for your plea∣sant conceits, Signior, as you very well know, rest not in dull braines, and since Sancho is wittd and conceited, from hence forward I confirm him to bee discreet: And a Prater added Don-Quixote. So much the better (said the Duke) for many conceits cannot be expressed in few words, and that we may not spend the time in many, come, Sir Knight of the sorrowfull Countenance. Of the Lyons, your Highnesse must say quoth Sancho, for now we have no more sorrowfull Countenance. And now let the Lyons beare countenance. The Duke proceeded, I say let the Knight of the Lyons come to my Castle, which is neere here, where he shall have the entertainment that is justly due to so high a Personage, and that that the Duchesse and I are wont to give to Knights Errant that come to us.

By this time Sancho had made ready and gyrded Rozinantes saddle well; and Don-Quixote mounting him, and the Duke upon a goodly Horse, set the Duchesse in the middle, and they went toward the Castle. The Duchesse commanded that Sancho should ride by her, for she was infinitely delighted to heare his discretions. Sancho was easily intreated, and weaved himselfe betweene the three, and made a fourth in their conversation. The Duke and Duchesse were much pleased, who held it for a great good fortune, to have lodged in their Castle such a Knight Errant, and such a Squire Erred,