Gavilan College celebrates 400 years of Don Quijote

Don Quixote de la Mancha, translated by Charles Jarvis

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The Life and Exploits
of the Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote de la Mancha

By Miguel de Cervantes, Translated by Charles Jarvis, Esq.

The First Part

CHAPTER XVIII: In which is rehearsed the Discourse which Sancho Panza held with his Master Don Quixote; with other Adventures worth relating.


Sancho came up to his master pale and dispirited to that degree, that he was not able to spur on his ass. Don Quixote perceiving him in that condition, said: "Now am I convinced, honest Sancho, that this castle, or inn, is doubtless enchanted; for what could they, who so cruelly sported themselves with you, be but hobgoblins, and people of the other world? And I am confirmed in this by having found, that when I stood at the pales of the yard, beholding the acts of your sad tragedy, I could not -[71]- possibly get over them, nor so much as alight from Rozinante; so that they must certainly have held me enchanted: for I swear to you, by the faith of what I am, that if I could have got over or alighted, I would have avenged you in such a manner as would have made those poltroons and assassins remember the jest as long as they lived, though I knew I had transgressed the laws of chivalry thereby: for as I have often told you, they do not allow a knight to lay hand on his sword against anyone who is not so, unless it be in defence of his own life and person, and in case of urgent and extreme necessity." "And I too," quoth Sancho, "would have revenged myself if I could, dubbed or not dubbed; but I could not: though I am of opinion, that they who diverted themselves at my expense were no hobgoblins, but men of flesh and bones, as we are; and each of them, as I heard while they were tossing me, had his proper name: one was called Pedro Martinez, another Tenorio Hernandez; and the landlord's name is John Palomeque the left-handed: so that, Sir, as to your not being able to leap over the pales, nor to alight from your horse, the fault lay in something else, and not in enchantment. And what I gather clearly from all this is, that these adventures we are in quest of will at the long run bring us into so many disventures, that we shall not know which is our right foot. So that, in my poor opinion, the better and surer way would be, to return to our village, now that it is reaping-time, and look after our business, and not run rambling from Ceca to Mecca, (47) leaping out of the frying-pan into the fire.

"How little do you know, Sancho," answered Don Quixote, "what belongs to chivalry! Peace, and have patience; the day will come when you will see with your eyes how honourable a thing it is to follow this profession: for tell me, what greater satisfaction can there be in the world, or what pleasure can be compared with that of winning a battle and triumphing over one's enemy? None, without doubt." "It may be so," answered Sancho, "though I do not know it. I only know, that since we have been knights-errant, or you have been, Sir, for there is no reason I should reckon myself in that honourable number, we have never won any battle, except that of the Biscainer; and even there you came off with the loss of half an ear and half a helmet; and from that day to this we have had nothing but drubbings upon drubbings, cuffs upon cuffs, beside my blanket-tossing into the bargain, and that by persons enchanted, on whom I cannot revenge myself, to know how far the pleasure reaches of overcoming an enemy, as your worship is pleased to say." "That is what troubles me, and ought to trouble you, Sancho," answered Don Quixote: "but henceforward I will endeavour to have ready at hand a sword made by such art, that no kind of enchantment can touch him that wears it. And perhaps fortune may procure me that of Amadis, when he called himself Knight of the Burning Sword, which was one of the best weapons that ever knight had in the world; for, beside the virtue aforesaid, it cut like a razor; and no armour, though ever so strong or ever so much enchanted, could stand against it." "I am so fortunate," quoth Sancho, "though this were so, and you should find such a sword, it would be of service and use only to those who are dubbed knights, like the balsam: as for the poor squires, they may sing sorrow." "Fear not that, Sancho," said Don Quixote: "heaven will deal more kindly by thee."

Don Quixote and his squire went on thus conferring together, when Don Quixote perceived on the road they were in a great and thick cloud of -[72]- dust coming towards them; and seeing it, he turned to Sancho, and said: "This is the day, O Sancho, in which will be seen the good that fortune has in store for me. This is the day, I say, in which will appear as much as in any the strength of my arm; and in which I shall perform such exploits as shall remain written in the book of fame to all succeeding ages. Seest thou yon cloud of dust, Sancho? It is raised by a prodigious army of divers and innumerable nations, who are on the march this way." "By this account there must be two armies," said Sancho; "for on this opposite side there arises such another cloud of dust." Don Quixote turned to view it, and seeing it was so, rejoiced exceedingly, taking it for granted they were two armies coming to engage in the midst of that spacious plain: for at all hours and moments his imagination was full of the battles, enchantments, adventures, extravagances, amours, and challenges, which he found in the books of chivalry; and whatever he said, thought, or did, had a tendency that way. Now the cloud of dust he saw was raised by two great flocks of sheep going the same road from different parts, and the dust hindered them from being seen until they came near. But Don Quixote affirmed with so much positiveness that they were armies, that Sancho began to believe it, and said: "Sir, what then must we do?" "What," replied Don Quixote, "but favour and assist the weaker side? Now you must know, Sancho, that the army which marches towards us in front, is led and commanded by the great Emperor Alifanfaron, lord of the great island of Taprobana: this other which marches behind us is that of his enemy, the king of the Garamantes, Pentapolin of the Naked Arm; for he always enters into the battle with his right arm bare." "But why do these two princes hate one another so?" demanded Sancho. "They hate one another," answered Don Quixote, "because this Alifanfaron is a furious pagan, and is in love with the daughter of Pentapolin, who is a most beautiful and superlatively graceful lady, and a Christian; and her father will not give her in marriage to the pagan king, unless he will first renounce the religion of his false prophet Mahomet, and turn Christian." "By my beard," said Sancho, "Pentapolin is in the right; and I am resolved to assist him to the utmost of my power." "In so doing, you will do your duty, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for in order to engage in such fights, it is not necessary to be dubbed a knight." "I easily comprehend that," answered Sancho: "but where shall we dispose of this ass, that we may be sure to find him when the fray is over? for I believe it was never yet the fashion to go to battle upon such a kind of beast." "You are in the right," said Don Quixote; "and what you may do with him is, to let him take his chance whether he be lost or not: for we shall have such choice of horses after the victory, that Rozinante himself will run a risk of being trucked for another. But listen with attention, whilst I give you an account of the principal knights of both the armies. And, that you may see and observe them the better, let us retire to yon rising ground, from whence both the armies may be distinctly seen." They did so, and got upon a hillock, from whence the two flocks which Don Quixote took for two armies might easily have been discerned, had not the clouds of dust they raised obstructed and blinded the sight: but for all that, seeing in imagination what he neither did, nor could see, he began with a loud voice to say:

"The knight (48) you may see yonder with the gilded armour, who bears in his shield a lion crowned couchant at a damsel's feet, is the valorous Laurcalco, lord of the silver bridge: the other, with the armour flowered -[73]- with gold, who bears three crowns argent in a field azure, is the formidable Micccolembo, grand duke of Quirocia: the third, with gigantic limbs, who marches on his right, is the undaunted Brandabarbaran of Boliche, lord of the three Arabias; he is armed with a serpent's skin, and bears instead of a shield, a gate, which fame says, is one of those belonging to the temple which Sampson pulled down, when with his death he avenged himself upon his enemies. But turn your eyes to this other side, and you will see in the front of this other army, the ever victorious and never vanquished Timonel de Carcajona, prince of New Biscay, who comes armed with armour quartered, azure, vert, argent, and or, bearing in his shield a cat or in a field gules, with a scroll inscribed MIAU, being the beginning of his mistress's name, who it is reported is the peerless Miaulina, daughter to Alphenniquen, duke of Algarve. That other, who burdens and oppresses the back of yon sprightly steed, whose armour is as white as snow, and his shield white, without any device, is a new knight, by birth a Frenchman, called Peter Papin, lord of the baronies of Utrique. The other whom you see with his armed heels, pricking the flanks of that pyed fleet courser, and his armour of pure azure, is the powerful duke of Nerbia, Espartafilardo of the Wood, whose device is an asparagus-bed, with this motto in Castilian, Rastrea mi suerte. Thus drags my fortune."

In this manner he went on, naming sundry knights of each squadron as his fancy dictated, and giving to each their arms, colours, devices, and mottoes extempore, carried on by the strength of his imagination and unaccountable madness: and so without hesitation, he went on thus: "That body fronting us is formed and composed of people of different nations: here stand those who drink the sweet waters of the famous Xanthus; the mountaineers who tread the Massilian fields; those who sift the pure and fine gold-dust of Arabia Felix; those who dwell along the famous and refreshing banks of the clear Thermodon; those who drain by sundry and divers ways the golden veins of Pactolus; the Numidians, unfaithful in their promises; the Persians, famous for bows and arrows; the Parthians and Medes, who fight flying; the Arabians, perpetually shifting their habitations; the Scythians, as cruel as fair; the broad-lipped Ethiopians; and an infinity of other nations, whose countenances I see and know, though I cannot recollect their names. In that other squadron come those who drink the crystal streams of olive-bearing Betis; those who brighten and polish their faces with the liquor of the ever-rich and golden Tagus; those who enjoy the profitable waters of the divine Genii; those who tread the Tartesian fields, abounding in pasture; those who recreate themselves in the Elysian meads of Xereza; the rich Manchegans, crowned with yellow ears of corn; those clad in iron, the antique remains of the Gothic race; those who bathe themselves in Pisuerga, famous for the gentleness of its current; those who feed their flocks on the spacious pastures of the winding Guadiana, celebrated for its hidden source; those who shiver on the cold brow of the shady Pyrenees, and the snowy tops of the lofty Appennines; in a word, all that Europe contains and includes."

Good God! how many provinces did he name! how many nations did he enumerate! giving to each with wonderful readiness its peculiar attributes, wholly absorbed and wrapped up in what he had read in his lying books. Sancho Panza stood confounded at his discourse without speaking a word; and now and then he turned his head about to see -[74]- whether he could discover the knights and giants his master named. But seeing none, he said: "Sir, the devil a man, or giant, or knight, of all you have named, appears anywhere; at least I do not see them: perhaps all may be enchantment, like last night's goblins." "How say you, Sancho?" answered Don Quixote. "Do you not hear the neighing of the steeds, the sound of the trumpets, and rattling of the drums?" "I hear nothing," answered Sancho, "but the bleating of sheep and lambs." And so it was; for now the two flocks were come very near them. "The fear you are in, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "makes you either unable to see or hear aright; for one effect of fear is to disturb the senses, and make things not to appear what they are: and if you are so much afraid, get you aside, and leave me alone; for I am able with my single arm to give the victory to that side I shall favour with my assistance." And saying this, he clapped spurs to Rozinante, setting his lance in its rest, and darted down the hillock like lightning. Sancho cried out to him: "Hold, Signor Don Quixote, come back; as God shall save me, they are lambs and sheep you are going to encounter: pray come back; woe to the father that begot me, what madness is this? Look; there is neither giant, nor knight, nor cats, nor arms, nor shields quartered nor entire, nor true azures nor be-devilled. Sinner that I am, what is it you do?" For all this, Don Quixote turned not again, but still went on, crying aloud: "Ho! knights, you that follow and fight under the banner of the valiant Emperor Pentapolin of the Naked Arm, follow me all, and you shall see with how much ease I revenge him on his enemy Alifanfaron of Taprobana." And saying thus, he rushed into the midst of the squadron of sheep, and began to attack them with his lance, as courageously and intrepidly, as if in good earnest he was engaging his mortal enemies. The shepherds and herdsmen who came with the flocks, called out to him to desist: but seeing it was to no purpose, they unbuckled their slings, and began to let drive about his ears with stones as big as one's fist. Don Quixote did not mind the stones, but running about on all sides, cried out: "Where art thou, proud Alifanfaron? Present thyself before me: I am a single knight, desirous to prove thy valour hand to hand, and to punish thee with the loss of life, for the wrong thou dost to the valiant Pentapolin Garamanta." At that instant came a large pebble-stone, and struck him such a blow on the side, that it buried a couple of his ribs in his body. Finding himself thus ill-treated, he believed for certain he was slain, or sorely wounded; and remembering his liquor, he pulled out his cruise and set it to his mouth, and began to let some go down: but before he could swallow what he thought sufficient, comes another of those almonds, and hit him so full on the hand, and on the cruise, that it dashed it to pieces, carrying off three or four of his teeth by the way, and grievously bruising two of his fingers. Such was the first blow, and such the second, that the poor knight tumbled from his horse to the ground. The shepherds ran to him, and verily believed they had killed him: whereupon in all haste they got their flock together, took up their dead, which were about seven, and marched off without further inquiry.

All this while Sancho stood upon the hillock beholding his master's extravagances, tearing his beard, and cursing the unfortunate hour and moment that ever he knew him. But seeing him fallen to the ground, and the shepherds already gone off, he descended from the hillock, and running to him found him in a very ill plight, though he had not quite lost the use -[75]- of his senses; and said to him, "Did I not desire you, Signor Don Quixote, to come back; for those you went to attack were a flock of sheep, and not an army of men?" "How easily," replied Don Quixote, "can that thief of an enchanter, my enemy, make things appear or disappear! You must know, Sancho, that it is a very easy matter for such to make us seem what they please; and this malignant, who persecutes me, envious of the glory he saw I was likely to acquire in this battle, has transformed the hostile squadrons into flocks of sheep. However, do one thing, Sancho, for my sake, to undeceive yourself, and see the truth of what I tell you: get upon your ass, and follow them fair and softly, and you will find, that when they are got a little farther off they will return to their first form, and ceasing to be sheep will become men, proper and tall, as I described them at first. But do not go now; for I want your help and assistance; come hither to me, and see how many grinders I want; for it seems to me that I have not one left in my head." Sancho came so close to him, that he almost thrust his eyes into his mouth; and it being precisely at the time the balsam began to work in Don Quixote's stomach, at the instant Sancho was looking into his mouth, he discharged the contents, with as much violence as if it had been shot out of a demi-culverin, directly in the face and beard of the compassionate squire. "Blessed Virgin! "quoth Sancho, "what is this that has befallen me? Without doubt this poor sinner is mortally wounded, since he vomits blood at the mouth." But reflecting a little, he found by the colour, savour, and smell, that it was not blood, but the balsam of the cruise he saw him drink; and so great was the loathing he felt at it, that his stomach turned, and he vomited up his very guts upon his master, so that they both remained in the same pickle. Sancho ran to his ass to take something out of his wallets to cleanse himself and cure his master; but not finding them he was very near running distracted. He cursed himself afresh, and purposed in his mind to leave his master and return home, though he should lose his wages for the time past, and his hopes of the government of the promised island.

Hereupon Don Quixote got up, and laying his left hand on his mouth to prevent the remainder of his teeth from falling out, with the other he laid hold on Rozinante's bridle, who had not stirred from his master's side, so trusty was he and good conditioned, and went where his squire stood leaning his breast on his ass, and his cheek on his hand, in the posture of a man overwhelmed with thought. Don Quixote, seeing him in that guise, with the appearance of so much sadness, said, "Know, Sancho, that one man is no more than another, unless he does more than another. All these storms that fall upon us are signs that the weather will clear up, and things will go smoothly; for it is impossible that either evil or good should be durable; and hence it follows, that the evil having lasted long the good cannot be far off. So that you ought not to afflict yourself for the mischances that befall me, since you have no share in them." "How! no share in them! "answered Sancho: "peradventure he they tossed in a blanket yesterday was not my father's son; and the wallets I miss to-day, with all my movables, are somebody's else?" "What! are the wallets missing, Sancho?" said Don Quixote. "Yes, they are," answered Sancho. "Then we have nothing to eat to-day," replied Don Quixote. "It would be so," answered Sancho, "if these fields did not produce those herbs you say you know with which such unlucky knights-errant as your worship are wont to supply the like necessities." "For all that," answered Don -[76]- Quixote, "at this time I would rather have a slice of bread and a couple of heads of salt pilchards than all the herbs described by Dioscorides, though commented upon by Dr Laguna himself. But, good Sancho, get upon your ass, and follow me; for God, who is the Provider of all things, will not fail us, and the rather seeing we are so employed in his service as we are, since he does not fail the gnats of the air, the worms of the earth, nor the frogs of the water; and so merciful is he that he makes his sun to shine upon the good and the bad, and causes rain to fall upon the just and unjust." "Your worship," said Sancho, "would make a better preacher than a knight-errant." "Sancho," said Don Quixote, "the knights-errant ever did and must know something of everything; and there have been knights- errant in times past, who would make sermons or harangues on the king's highway with as good a grace as if they had taken their degrees in the university of Paris: whence we may infer that the lance never blunted the pen, nor the pen the lance." "Well! let it be as your worship says," answered Sancho; "but let us be gone hence, and endeavour to get a lodging to-night; and pray God it be where there are neither blankets nor blanket-heavers, nor hobgoblins, nor enchanted Moors: for if there be, the devil take both the flock and the fold."

"Child," said Don Quixote, "do thou pray to God, and conduct me whither thou wilt; for this time I leave it to your choice where to lodge us: but reach hither your hand, and feel with your fingers how many grinders I want on the right side of my upper jaw; for there I feel the pain." Sancho put in his fingers, and, feeling about, said, "How many did your worship use to have on this side?" "Four," answered Don Quixote; "beside the eye-tooth, all whole and very sound." "Take care what you say, Sir," answered Sancho. "I say four, if not five," replied Don Quixote; "for in my whole life I never drew tooth nor grinder, nor have I lost one by rheum or decay." "Well then," said Sancho, "on this lower side your worship has but two grinders and a half; and in the upper neither half nor whole: all is as smooth and even as the palm of my hand-" "Unfortunate that I am! "said Don Quixote, hearing the sad news his squire told him: "I had rather they had torn off an arm, provided it were not the sword-arm; for, Sancho, you must know, that a mouth without grinders is like a mill without a stone; and a diamond is not so precious as a tooth. But all this we are subject to, who profess the strict order of chivalry. Mount, friend Sancho, and lead on; for I will follow thee what pace thou wilt." Sancho did so, and went toward the place where he thought to find a lodging, without going out of the high road, which was thereabouts very much frequented. As they thus went on, fair and softly, for the pain of Don Quixote's jaws gave him no ease nor inclination to make haste, Sancho had a mind to amuse and divert him by talking to him, and said, among other things, what you will find written in the following chapter.


Gavilan College celebrates 400 years of Don Quijote

Don Quixote de la Mancha, translated by Charles Jarvis

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