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

CHAP. LIX.

Of an extraordinary accident that befell Don-Quixote, which may bee held for an Adventure.

THe dust and wearinesse that Don-Quixote and Sancho received from the unmannerly Buls, was recompenced with a cleer and running Fountaine, which they found in a coole Grove, on whose Margen leaving Rozinante and Dapple lose without a Briddle or Halter, the two way-beaten, Master and Man sate down. Sancho repaired to the Cup-boord of his Wallets, and tooke out of them that which hee called his sawce, and rensed his mouth: Don-Quixote washt his face, with which refreshing his faint spirits, recovered breath.

Don-Quixote ate nothing for pure griefe, neither durst Sancho touch any meate before him for pure mannerlinesse, and expected his Master should first bee his Taster: but seeing him carried on with his imaginations, not remembring to put a bit in his mouth, he never asked him: and over-running all kinde of manners, he began to barrell up all the Bread and Cheese that was before him in his stomack.

Eate, friend Sancho, quoth Don-Quixote, hold life together; for thou hast more need then I, and leave mee to dye by the hands of my sorrowes, and the force of my mis-fortunes. I was borne, Sancho to live dying, and thou, to dye eating: and that thou maist see I tell thee true; consider mee printed in Histories, famous in Armes, well nurtured in mine. Actions, respected by Princes, courted by Damzells: now at the end of all, when I hoped for Bayes, Triumphs and Crownes layd up and merited by my famous exploits: this morning I have seene my selfe trampled on and kick∣ed, and bruised with the feet of base un-cleane Beasts: the consideration of this duls my teeth, makes slow my grinders, and benummes my hands, and altogether be••eaves mee of my appetite; so that I thinke I shall dye with hunger, the cruellest of all deaths.

So that, quoth Sancho (not leaving his fast chewing) you will not allow of that Proverbe that sayes, Let Martha dye, so she dye not empty: at least, I will not because of my death. I meane rather to doe as the Shoo-maker doth, that streacheth the Lea∣ther with his teeth, till hee makes it reach as hee list; Ile draw out my life by eating, till it come to the end that Heaven hath allotted it: and know Sir, there is no greater madnesse in the world, then to despaire as you doe: and beleeve mee, and after you have eaten, rest your selfe a little upon the Downe-beds of this green Grasse, and you shall see, that when you wake, you shall finde your selfe somewhat lightned.

Don-Quixote tooke his councell, taking his reasons to bee rather Philosophicall, then senselesse, and said, If thou, O Sancho, wouldest doe, what I shall now tell thee for mee, my lightsomnesse would bee certaine, and my sorrowes not so great; which is that whil'st I (obeying thy counsell) sleepe, thou goe out of the way a little, and with Rozinantes reines, turning thy flesh to the ayre, give thy selfe three or foure hun∣dred lashes upon account of the three thousand, and so many that thou art to give for the dis-enchanting Dulcinea, which is no small pitty, that that poor Lady should bee enchanted by thy carelesnesse and negligence.

There is much to bee said in this businesse (quoth Sancho) let's both sleepe now, and

God will provide afterward: Know, Sir, that this whipping in cold blood is a cru∣ell thing, especially, if it light upon a weake body and worse fed; let my Lady Dulcinea have patience, for when shee least thinkes of it, shee shall see mee a very sieve with lashes, and till death all is life, I meane, I live with a desire to fulfill my promise.

Don-Quixote giving him thankes, eate somthing, and Sancho a great deale, leaving the two continuall friends and companions, Rozinante and Dapple to their Liberum Arbitrium, disorderly feeding upon the Pasture that was plentifull in that Meddow.

They awaked somewhat late, and up they got againe, and went on their way, mak∣ing haste to come to an Inne, which seemed to bee about a league off: I say an Inn, for Don-Quixote called it so; contrary to his ordinarie custome of calling all Innes Ca∣stles. Well, to it they come, they asked mine Host if there were any Lodging? Hee answered, Yes, with all the commodiousnesse and provision that they might have in the Towne of Saragosa.

They alighted, and Sancho retyred with his Sumptry into a Chamber, of which the Host gave him the Key: the Beasts hee carried to the Stable, and gave them their stint, and so went to see what Don-Quixote (who sate by upon a Bench) would command him, giving God particular thankes, that that Inne had not appeared to him, a Castle,

Supper time came on: So to their resting place they got.

Sancho asked mine Host what hee had for supper? To which quoth hee, Your mouth shall have measure, aske what you will? [a good character of a lying, beggerly, vain-glorious Spanish-Host in generall.] For from the Byrds of the ayre, to the Poul∣try of the earth, and the fishes of the sea, that Inne was provided.

Not so much quoth Sancho, for so wee may have a couple of roasted Chickens, 'twill bee enough: For my Master is weake somack'd, and eates little, and I am no very greedy-gut.

Mine Host answered him, hee had no Chickens, for the Kytes had devoured them, Why then let's have a tender Pullet roasted, quoth hee, A Pullet! My Father as soon; trust mee, trust me; I sent above fifty yesterday to the City to sell: saving Pullets, ask what you will.

Why then (quoth Sancho) you wa••t no Veale, or Kidde? Wee have none in the House now, said mine Host, for it is all spent; but by next weeke wee shall have to spare.

The matter is mended (quoth Sancho) I hold a wager all these wants are supplied with Egs and Bacon.

Assuredly (quoth mine Hoast) here's fine doings with my guest; I have told him we have neyther Pullet nor Hens, and yet he would have Egs. Run, if you will, to other dainties, and leave these gluttonies.

Resolve us (Body of mee, quoth Sancho) and tell mee what wee shall have, and leave you your running mine Host. The Host said, The very truth is, I have two Neates-feete, like Calves-feet; or two Calves-feet, like Neates-feet, they are sod with their Pease, Bacon and Onyons, and just at this instant cry Come eat me, Come eat me.

For mine I mark them hence forward, quoth Sancho, and let no man touch them; for Ile pay more for them then any body else, and there could have beene no better meat for mee in the world.

No man shall touch them (said mine Host:) for other Guests, I have out of pure Gentilitie, bring their Cook, Cater, and Butler with them. If it goe by Gentle (quoth Sancho) none more gentle then my Master: but his Calling permits no Landers or Butteries: wee clap us down in the midest of a field, and fill our selves with Acorns and Medlars.

This discourse passed between Sancho and the Host, without Sancho's answering him, who asked what Calling his Master was of. Supper was ready, Don-Quixote went to his Chamber; mine Host brought the pot of meat just as it was, and sate him fair and well down to supper: it seemed that in another Chamber next Don-Quixotes, divided only

by a thin Lath wall, hee might heare one say, By your life Signior Don Ieronimo, whilest supper is to come in let us read another Chapter in the second part of Don-Quixote.

Don-Quixote scarce heard himself named, when up hee stood, and watchfully gave care to their discourse concerning him; and hee heard that the aforesaid Don Ieronimo answered, Signior Don Iohn, why should wee read these fopperies? hee that hath read the first part of Don-Quixote, it is impossible hee should take any pleasure in reading the second.

For all that (quoth Don Iohn) 'twere good reading it: for there is no book so ill, that hath not some good thing in it.

That which most displeaseth me in this is, thet hee makes Don-Quixote disenamoured of Dulcinea del Toboso.

Which when Don-Quixote heard, full of wrath and despight hee lifted up his voyce saying, Whosoever saith Don Quixote de la Mancha hath forgotten, or can forget Dulci∣nea del Toboso, I will make him know with equall Armes, that he is farre from the truth: for the peerlesse Dulcinea del Toboso cannot bee forgotten; neither can forgetfullnesse bee contained in Don-Quixote: his Scutchion is Loyalty; his Profession sweetly to keep it, without doing it any violence.

Who is that answers us, said they in the next room? Who should it bee (quoth Sancho) but Don-Quixote himself, that will make good all hee hath said, or as much as hee shall say; for a good Pay-master cares not for his pawnes.

Scarce had Sancho said this, when the two Gentlemen came in at the Chamber door; for they seemed no lesse to them: and one of them casting his Armes about Don-Qui∣xotes neck, said, neither can your presence belye your name, or your name credit your presence. Doubtlesse you Sir, are the right Don-Quixote de la Mancha, North-starre, and Morning-starre of Knight Errantry, in spight of him that hath usurped your name, and annihilated your exploits, as the Author of this Book, I here deliver hath done: and giving him the Book that his companion had, Don-Quixote took it, and without an∣swering a word, began, to turne the leaves, and a while after returned it, saying, In this little that I have seen, I have found three things in this Authour worthy of reprehensi∣on, [This the Authour of this Book brings in by way of invective against an Aragonian Scholer, that wrote a second part of Don Quixote before this was published.]

The first is, some words I have read in this Prologue.

The second, that his language is Arragonian: for sometimes hee writes without Articles. And the third, which doth most confirm his ignorance, is, That hee errs and strayes from the truth in the chiefest of the History: for here hee sayes that Sancho Panca my Squires Wifes name was Mary Gutierrez, which is not so; but shee is called Teresa Panca: and therefore hee that errs in so main a matter, it may well bee feared he will erre in all the rest of the History.

To this Sancho said, prettily done indeed of the Historian; hee knows very well sure what belongs to our Affaires, since he calls my Wife Teresa Panca, Mary Gutierrez. Pray take the Book again Sir, and see whether I be there, and whether he have chang'd my name. By your speech friend (quoth Don Ieronimo) you should be Sancho Panca Signior Don-Quixotes Squire. I am (quoth Sancho) and I am proud of it.

Well, in faith (said the Gentleman) this modern Authour doth not treat of you so neatly, as your person makes shew for: hee paints you out for a Glutton, and Ideot, and nothing witty, and farre different from the Sancho that is described in the first part of your Masters History.

God forgive him (said Sancho;) hee should have left me in my corner, and not re∣membred me; for every man in his ability, and 'tis good sleeping in a whole skin.

The two Gentlemen entreated Don-Quixote to goe to their chamber, and Sup with them; for they knew well that in that Inne hee found not things fitting to his person.

Don-Quixote, who was ever courteous, condescended to their requests, and supped with them: Sancho remained with his flesh-pot sole Lord and Governour. Sancho sate

at the upper end of the Table, and with him the Inn-keeper, that was no lesse affectioned to his Neats-feet, then Sancho.

In the midst of supper Don Iohn asked Don Quixote what news hee had of his Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, whether shee were married, or brought a Bed, or great with child; or being entire, whether (respecting her honesty and good decorum) she were mindefull of Signior Don Quixotes amorous desires? To which he answered; Dulcinea is as en∣tire, and my desires as firm as ever; our correspondency in the ancient barrennsse; her beauty transformed into the complexion of a base Milk-wench: and straight hee re∣counted unto them every tittle of her Enchantment, and what had befaln him in Mon∣tesinos Cave, with the order that the sage Merlin had given for her dis-enchanting, which was by Sancho's stripes.

Great was the delight the two Gentlemen received to heare Don Quixote tell the strange passages of his History, and so they wondered at his fopperies, as also his elegant manner of delivering them; here they held him to be wise, there he slipped from them by the fool: so they know not what medium to give him, betwixtn wisedome and folly.

Sancho ended his Supper, and leaving the Inn-keeper, passed to the Chamber where his Master was; and entring, said, Hang me Sirs, if the Authour of this Book that your Worships have, would that wee should eat a good meale together; pray God, as hee calls me Glutton, hee say not that I am a Drunkard too.

Yes marry doth hee (said Don Ieronimo;) but I know not how directly, though I know his reasons doe not hang together, and are very erroneous, as I see by Sancho's Phisiognomy here present. Believe me (quoth Sancho) Sancho and Don-Quixote are differing in this History, from what they are in that Cid Hamete Benengeli composed; for wee are, my Master valiant, discreet and amorous: I simple and conceited; but neither Glutton nor Drunkard.

I believe it (said Don Iohn) and were it possible, it should bee commanded, that none should dare to treat of the Grand Don Quixotes Affairs, but Cid Hamete, his first Authour: as Alexander commanded that none but Apelles should dare to draw him.

Let whose will draw me (quoth Don-Quixote:) but let him not abuse me; for of•• times patience falls when injuries over-load. None (quoth Don Iohn) can be done Signior Don-Quixote, that hee will not bee revenged of, if he ward it not with the Shield of his patience, which in my opinion is strong and great.

In these and other discourses they passed a great part of the night, and though Don Iohn would that Don-Quixote, should have read more in the Book, to see what it did descant on, yet hee could not prevaile with him, saying, Hee made account he had read it, and concluded it to bee but an idle Pamphlet, and that hee would not (if it should come to the Authours knowledge that hee had medled with it) hee should make him∣self merry to think he had read it; for our thoughts must not be busied in filthy and obscene things, much lesse our eyes.

They asked him whither hee purposed his voyage? Hee answered to Saragosa, to be at the Justs in Harnesse, that use to be there yeerly.

Don Iohn told him, that there was one thing in that new History, which was, That hee should bee at a Running at the Ring in that City, as short of Invention, as poor in Mottos, but most poor in Liveries, and rich in nothing but Simplicities.

For this matter only (quoth Don-Quixote) I will not set foot in Saragosa: and therefore the world shall see what a lyar this moderne Historiographer is, and people shall perceive I am not the Don-Quixote hee speaks of.

You shall doe very well (quoth Don Iereimno) for there bee other Justs in Barse∣lona, where Signior Don-Quixote may shew his valour. So I mean to doe (quoth Don Quixote) and therefore let me take leave of you (for it is time) to goe to bed, and so hold me in the rank of your greatest friends and Servitors. And me too (quoth Sancho) for it may bee I shall bee good for somewhat.

With this they took leave, and Don Quixote and Sancho retired to their Chamber,

leaving Don Iohn and Don Ieronimo in admiration, to see what a medly hee had made with his discretion and madnesse; and they verily believed that these were the right Don-Quixote and Sancho, and not they whom the Aragonian Authour described.

Don-Quixote ro••e early, and knocking upon the thin wall of the other Chamber, hee took leave of those Guests. Sancho payed the Host royally; but advised him, hee should either lesse praise the Provision of his Inne, or have it better pro∣vided.