The second part of the history of the valorous and witty knight-errant, Don Quixote of the Mançha. Written in Spanish by Michael Ceruantes: and now translated into English

CHAP. LXX.

Of diuers rare things, which serue for the better illustration and cleering of this History.

SAncho slept that night vpon a Quilt & in Don Quixote's owne chamber, which he would faine haue auoyded, had it beene in his power; for he knew full well, that his Ma∣ster would hardly let him sleepe all night, by reason of the many questions he would demand of him, to which he must of neces∣sity

make answer. Now was hee in no good humour to talke much; for hee felt yet the smart of his fore-passed torments, which were an hindrance to his tongue. And without doubt, he would rather haue layne alone in any poore Shed, then with company in that goodly house; so true was his feare, and so cer∣taine his doubt, as he was scarce laid in his bed, but his Master began this discourse vnto him.

Sancho, what thinkest thou of this nights successe? Needes must a man confesse, that great and powerfull is the force of dis∣daine, since as thou thy selfe hast seene with thine owne eyes, Altisidora had surely died, and that by no other arrowes, nor by any other sword, nor other instrument of warre, no, nor by the force of poyson, but by the apprehension of the churlish rigor, and the disdaine wherewith I haue euer vsed her.

She might (answered Sancho) haue died in good time, and at her choice and pleasure, so she would haue let me alone in mine owne house, since I was neuer the cause that shee became a Lo∣uer, nor did I euer in all my life scorne or disdaine her. But I wot not, nor can I imagine how it may be, that the health or welfare of Altisidora, a Gentlewoman more fantasticall then dis∣creet, hath any reflection (as I haue said heeretofore) vpon the afflictions of Sancho Pansa. Now I plainely and distinctly per∣ceiue, that there be both Enchanters and Enchantments in the world, from whom God deliuer me, since I cannot well deliuer my selfe from them. And therewithall I intreat you to let mee sleepe, and except you wil haue me throw my selfe out of a win∣dow, aske me no more questions.

Sleepe, my friend Sancho (replied Don Quixote) vnlesse the nipping scoffes and bitter frumps which thou hast receiued, will not permit thee so to doe.

There is no griefe (answered Sancho) comparable vnto the affront of scoffing frumps, and so much the more sensible am I of such affronts, as that I haue receiued them by olde women; a mischiefe take them: I beseech you once more that you will suffer mee to sleepe, since that sleepe is an easing of all miseries. Be it as thou sayest, quoth Don Quixote, and God accompanie thee.

So they both fell a-sleepe, and whilest they slept, Cid Hamete, Author of this great History, would needs write and relate, why the Duke and the Duchesse had caused this monument to bee built, and inuented all that you haue seene aboue.

He writes then, that the Bachelor Samson Carrasco, hauing not forgotten what had hapned vnto him, at what time, vnder the name of the Knight of the Looking-glasses, he was vanquished and ouerthrown by Don Quixote: and there withall how all his designes and purposes were vanished into smoake; yet neuer∣thelesse would he (hoping for better successe) attempt the com∣bat againe: Therefore is it, that being informed by the Page who brought the Letter, and with it the Present vnto Teresa Pansa, the wife of Sancho, from the place where Don Quixote made his residence, he recouered new Armes and a Horse.

Then caused he the white Moone to be painted in his shield: A Mulet carried all this equipage, and a Lob or Swaine led the same, and not Thomas Ceciall his ancient Esquire, for feare hee should be known of Sancho and Don Quixote.

He so well bestirred himselfe in his iournies, that at last hee came to the Dukes Castle, who taught him the way or tract that Don Quixote had taken, and how he had a great desire to be pre∣sent at the Tiltings and Turnaments of Saragosa. He likewise related vnto him the gullings or gudgeons that hee had giuen him, with the inuention of Dulcinea's dis-enchantment, which should be accomplished at the charges of Sancho's buttocks. In summe, he vnderstood from him the fob or iest that Sancho had vsed toward his Master, in making him beleeue that Dulcinea was Enchanted and transformed into a Country Lasse, and how the Duchesse his wife had giuen Sancho to vnderstand, that him∣selfe was the man that deceiued himselfe, forsomuch as Dulcinea was verily Enchanted.

The Bachelor could not containe himselfe from laughing, and therewithall to be amazed, considering the quaint subtilty, and plaine simplicity of Sancho, equall vnto the extreme folly of Don Quixote. The Duke desired him, that if hee met with him, and eyther vanquished him or not, he would be pleased to come that way againe, to the end hee might aduertise him of it.

The Bachelor promised him to doe it, and so tooke his leaue of the Duke, to goe and see whether hee could finde Don Quix∣ote. He found him not a Saragosa, but went further, and then befell him what you haue already heard.

He came afterward to the Dukes Castle, and there made re∣port of all, together with the conditions of the combat. Hee moreouer told them, that Don Quixote came againe to accom∣plish, as a perfect Knight Errant, the promise which hee had made, to retire himselfe to his owne Village, and there to abide the full space of one full yeere. And that during the said time, it might peraduenture be brought to passe (said the Bachelor) that he might be cured of his folly. That he neuer had other in∣tention, and that for this onely cause he had thus disguised him∣selfe; for, it was great pitty that a Gentleman, so well skilled and versed in all things as Don Quixote was, should become a foole.

With that he tooke leaue of the Duke, and went to his Bur∣rough, where he staid for Don Quixote, who was comming af∣ter him. Whereupon the Duke tooke occasion to put this tricke vpon him; for, he tooke a wondrous pleasure of what succee∣ded vnto Sancho and Don Quixote: and therefore hee caused all the approches and high-waies about his Castle to be layd and watched, especially where he imagin'd our Knight might come. And for the said cause, he placed diuers of his seruants, as well on foot as on horse-backe, to the end that if they met with him, willed hee, or nilled hee, they should bring him to the Castle.

Now it fortuned that they met with him, and forth-with they gaue the Duke knowledge of it, who was already resolued what he would doe. As soone then as he knew of his comming, he caused all the torches and lights that were in the Court to be lighted, and Altisidora to bee placed vpon the Tombe with all the preparation that you haue seene before; and that so liuely re∣presented, as one would haue found very little difference be∣tweene the truth, and that which was counterfeit.

Cid Hamete goeth yet further; for he saith, That he assuredly beleeueth, that the mockers were as foolish as the mocked: and

that there wanted not two inches of the Dukes and Duchesses vtter priuation of common vnderstanding, since they tooke so much paines to mocke two fooles, whereof the one was then sound asleepe; and the other broad awake, transported with his rauing and ranging thoughts.

In the meane time the day surprized them, and they desired to rise; for the sluggish feathers were neuer pleasing vnto Don Quixote, were he conquered or conqueror.

Altisidora, who, as Don Quixote supposed, being risen from death to life, conforming her selfe to her Master and Mistresses humour, being crowned with the very same garland which she had in the tombe; attired in a loose gowne of white Taffata, all beset with flowers of gold: her haire loose, and dangling down her shoulders, leaning vpon a staffe of fine Ebony wood; shee entred into Don Quixote's chamber, who so soone as he saw her, was so amazed and confounded at her presence, as he shrunke downe into his bed, all couered with the clothes, and hid with the sheetes and counterpoint, that hee neither spake word, nor vsed any manner of gesture towards her, as might witnesse that he desired to shew her any courtesie.

Altisidora sat downe in a chayre, which was neere vnto Don Quixote's head, & after fetching a deepe deepe sigh, with a low, sweet, and milde voyce, she thus bespake him:

Sir Don Quixote, whensoeuer women of quality, or mai∣dens of discretion trample their honor vnder their feet, and giue their tongue free liberty and scope to exceed the bounds of conueniency or modesty, publishing the secrets lurking in their hearts, they then shall finde themselues brought to extreme mi∣sery and distresse.

Now am I one of those, pressed, vanquished, and also ena∣moured: All which notwithstanding I suffer patiently, and con∣tinue honest. So that hauing beene so too much, silence was the cause that my soule went out of my body, and I lost my life. It is now two daies since, that the consideration and remem∣brance of the rigor, which thou (oh more stony-minded then any marble, and inexorable Knight, so to reiect my plaints) which you haue vsed towards me, brought me to my liues end,

or at least I haue beene deemed and taken for dead by all those that saw me. And had it not beene, that Loue, who taking pity of me, deposed my recouery among the grieuous torments of this good Esquire, I should for euer haue remained in the other world. Loue might well depose it (replyed Sancho) in those of my Asse, and I would haue beene very glad of it. But tell me, I pray you good Damozell, euen as Heauen may prouide you of another more kind-louing-Louer then my Master, what is it that you haue seene in the other world? What is there in Hell, that he who dyeth desperate, must necessarily vndergoe? I must needs (quoth Altisidora) tell you the plaine truth of all. So it is, that I was not wholly or thorowly dead, since I came not into Hell: for had I once beene therein, there is no question, but I had neuer beene able to come out of it at my pleasure.

True it is, that I came euen vnto the gate thereof, vvhere I met with a doozen of Diuels, who in their hosen and doublets were playing at Tennis-ball; they did weare Falling-bands set with peakes of Flemmish Bone-lace, with Cuffs vnto them of the very same, so deep, as they appeared foure good inches lon∣ger then the arme, to the end their hands might seeme the grea∣ter. Their Battledors or Rackets were of fire. But that vvhich made me wonder most, was, that they vsed Bookes in stead of Balls, which bookes were full-stuft with winde and stifning, a thing both wondrous and newly-strange, yet did not that so much astony me: for, as it is proper vnto those, that winne at any game, to reioyce and be glad; whereas those that lose; are euer sad and discontent: there, all grumbled, chafed, fretted and bitterly cursed one another.

That's no wonder (quoth Sancho) since the Diuels, vvhether they play, or play not; whethey they vvinne, or winne not, at that play they can neuer be content.

Belike it is euen so (replyed Altisidora:) but there is also another thing, which likewise bred some amazement in me; that is to say, brought me into admiration. Which is, that the ball, that was but once tossed or strucken, could not serue another time, so that at euery stroke, they were forced to change bookes vvhether they were old or new, which was a maruellous thing to behold.

Now it hapned, that they gaue so violent a stroke vnto a mo∣derne booke, and very fairely bound, that it made the very guts to fly out of it, and scattered the leaues thereof vp and downe.

Then said one Diuell vnto another, I prethee looke vvhat that booke treateth of. It is (answered the other Diuell) the se∣cond part of the History of Don Quixote de la Mancha, not composed by Cid Hamete, it's first Authour, but by an Arago∣nois, vvho braggeth to be borne at Tordesillas. Now fie vpon it (quoth the other Diuell) out of my sight with it, and let it be cast into the very lowest pit of Hell, so deepe as mine eyes may neuer see it againe. But why (said the other Diuell?) is it so bad a booke? It is so vile a booke (replide the first Diuell) that had I my selfe expressely composed it, I could neuer haue encountred worse.

In the meane time they followed on their game, tossing other bookes to and fro; but hauing heard the name of Don Quixote, he whom I loue so passionately, I haue laboured to engraue that vision in my memory.

Now without doubt then (said Don Quixote) it was a right vision: for, there is no other man of that name in the vvhole vvorld but my selfe: And that History doth already goe from hand to hand thorow all parts of the Vniuerse: and yet stayes in no place, for so much as euery one will haue a kicke at it. Now I haue not been angry or vexed, when I haue heard that I wan∣der vp and downe like a fantasticke body, amidst the pitchy shades of Hell, and not in the light of the earth; since I am not the man that History speaketh of. If it be true and faithfully compiled, it will liue many ages; but if it be nothing worth, it will dye euen at it's birth.

Altisidora would haue continued her plaints, accusing Don Quixote of rigour and vnkindnes; but hee said thus vnto her, Madame, I haue often told you, that I am very angry, that you haue settled your thoughts on me; since you can draw nothing from me but bare thanks, and no remedy at all. I was onely borne for Dulcinea of Toboso, and to her onely haue the Desti∣nies (if there be any) wholly dedicated me. To thinke, that any other beauty can possesse or vsurpe the place, which she pos∣sesseth

in my soule, were to beleeue an impossibility. And this should suffice to dis-abuse you, and to make you to retire your selfe within the bounds of your honesty, since no creature is tyde vnto impossibilities.

Altisidora hearing these words, made a semblance to be very angry: so that, as it were in a great anger, she thus bespake him, I sweare by the Prince of the Mu•…•…ps, the soule of a Morter, and stone of a Date; more obstinate and hard-hearted, then a rude and base Pesant when one sueth vnto him, and when he addresseth his ••euell to the Butt or Marke: if I take you in hand, I will plucke your very eyes out of your head.

Doe you haply suppose, Sir vanquished, and Don Knockt∣downe with Bats and Cudgels, that I would haue dyde for you? No, no, Sir, whatsoeuer you haue seene this night, hath been no∣thing but a fiction, or thing fained. I am not a Maiden, that would suffer so much as the least-least paine at the tip of my nailes for such a Camell as you are; much lesse that I vvould dye for such a grosse animall.

I beleeue it well (quoth Sancho then) for all these louers deaths are but to cause sport and laughter. Well may they say, that they dye: but that they will hasten their deaths, Iudas may beleeue it if he list.

As they were in these discourses, the Musician and Poet, who had sung the fore-going Stanza's, entred into the Chamber, and making a very low reuerence vnto Don Quixote, hee thus said vnto him, Sir Knight, I beseech you to hold me in the number of your humblest seruants. I haue long since been most affecti∣onate vnto you, as wel by reason of your farre-bruted renowne, as for your high-raised feates of Armes.

Tell me (answered Don Quixote) who you are, that my courtesie may answere your merit.

The Yongman gaue him to vnderstand, that he was the Mu∣sician and the Panegiricke of the fore-passed night.

In good sooth (replide Don Quixote) you haue a very good voice: Neuerthelesse me seemes, that what you sung, was not greatly to the purpose: for, what haue the Stanza's of Garcilasse to doe with the death of this Damozell? My faire Sir, said the

Musician, you ought not to wonder at that: The best & choi∣sest Poets of our age doe practice it: so that euery man writes as best pleaseth his fantasie, and stealeth what, and from vvhom he lists, whether it co-here with the purpose or not. By reason whereof, all the follies, absurdities, or fopperies that they sing, indite, or vvrite, they ascribe vnto a Poeticall licence.

Don Quixote would haue answered, but he was hindred by the Duke and Duchesse, who both entred the Chamber to see him. Amongst whom there passed so long a discourse, and plea∣sant a conference, in which Sancho alledged so many ready quips, witty conceits, merry Prouerbs, and therewithall so ma∣ny wyly shifts, and subtile knaueries, as the Duke and the Du∣chesse were all astonished againe; as well by reason of his sim∣plicitie, as of his subtilty.

Don Quixote besought them to giue him leaue to depart the very same day; since that Knights subdued as he was, ought ra∣ther to dwell in an homely Cottage, or simple Shed, then in Kingly Palaces: which they most willingly granted him: And the Duchesse demanded of him, whether Altisidora was in his good fauour, or no. Madame, (answered Don Quixote) you are to vnderstand, that all the infirmitie of this Damozell, takes it's beginning and being from idlenesse, and that an honest occu∣pation, and continuall exercise is the onely remedy for it. She was euen now telling me, that in hel they are working Tapistry worke, and that there are made Tyrings and Net-workes.

I thinke that she is skilfull in such workes, and that's the rea∣son she therein employes her selfe, neuer ceasing to handle small Spindles or Spooles: and thus the images of him she loueth will neuer be remoued in her imagination.

What I tell you is most certaine: It is my opinion, it is my counsell.

And mine also, quoth Sancho, since I neuer saw any worke∣man, that applide or busied himselfe about such workes, that dyde for loue. The Maidens, I say, occupied about such works, thinke more on the accomplishing of their taske, then on that of their Loues. I iudge of it by my selfe, whilest I am digging or deluing, I neuer thinke on my Pinkaney at all; I speake of my

Teresa Pansa, whom I loue better a thousand times, then my very eye-lids.

Sancho, you speake very well, said the Duchesse: and I will take such order, as my Altisidora shall henceforward occupy her selfe about such workes: for, she can worke them excellently well.

Madame (quoth Altisidora) I shall not need to vse such a re∣medy, since the remembrance or consideration of the cruelties and vnkindnesses which this Robber and rouing Thiefe hath vsed towards me, will be of force, without any other deuice or artifice, to blot and deface them out of my memory. In the meane while, with your Highnesses permission, I will be gone from hence, that so mine eyes may not behold not onely his fil∣thy and gastly shape; but his vgly and abominable counte∣nance.

The words (replyde the Duke) which you vtter, make me remember the old Prouerbe, which teacheth vs, that he vvho sharpely chides, is ready to pardon.

Altisidora made a shew to dry vp the teares from her eyes with a Handkercher; and then making a very low curtsie vnto her Master and Mistresse, she went out of the Chamber.

Alas, poore Damozel (said then Sancho) I fend thee ill lucke, since thou hast already met with it, in lighting vpō a soule made of a Skuttle, and a heart of Oake. Hadst thou had to doe vvith me, thou shouldst haue found a Cock of me, that would haue crowed after another fashion.

Thus their discourse brake off; Don Quixote took his clothes, dined with the Duke and Duchesse, and in the afternoone went his way.