Gavilan College celebrates 400 years of Don Quijote

The History of Don Quixote - The Second Part

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The History of the
Valorous & Witty Knight-Errant Don Quixote of the Mancha

By Miguel de Cervantes, Translated by Thomas Shelton

The Second Part

CHAPTER LXV: Who the Knight of the White Moon was, with Don Gregorio’s Liberty, and other Passages


DON ANTONIO MORENO followed the Knight of the White Moon, and many boys too followed and persecuted him, till he got him to his inn into the city. Don Antonio entered, desirous to know him, and he had his squire to unarm him; he shut himself in a lower room, and Don Antonio with him, who stood upon thorns till he knew who he was.

He of the White Moon, seeing then that the gentleman would not leave him, said, ‘I well know, sir, wherefore you come, and to know who I am, and since there is no reason to deny you this, I will tell you, whilst my man is unarming me, the truth without erring a jot. Know, sir, that I am styled the bachelor Samson Carrasco, and am one of Don Quixote’s town; whose wild madness hath moved as many of us as know him to compassion, and me amongst the rest most; and believing that the best means to procure his health is to keep him quiet, and so to have him in his own house, I thought upon this device; and so about a three months since I met him upon the way, calling myself by the name of the Knight of the Looking-glasses, with a purpose to fight with him, and vanquish him, without doing him any hurt; and making this the condition of our combat, that the vanquished should be left to the discretion of the vanquisher; and that which I would enjoin him (for I held him already conquered) was that he should return home, and not abroad again in a whole year, in which time he might haply have been cured: but fortune would have it otherwise; for he vanquished me, and unhorsed me, and so my project took no effect. He went on his way, and I returned, conquered, ashamed, and bruised with my fall, that was very dangerous; but, for all that, I had still a desire to find him again, and to conquer him, as now you have seen. And he, being so punctual in observing the orders of knight-errantry, will doubtless keep his promise made to me. This, sir, is all I can tell you, and I beseech you conceal me from Don Quixote, that my desires may take effect, and that the man who hath otherwise a good understanding may recover it if his madness leave him.’

‘Oh, sir,’ said Don Antonio, ‘God forgive you the wrong you do the whole world, in seeking to recover the pleasantest madman in the world. Perceive you not that this recovery cannot be so much worth as the delight that his fopperies cause? But I imagine, sir bachelor, that all your art will not make a man so irrecoverably mad wise again; and if it were not uncharitable, I would say, Never may he recover; for in his health we lose not only his own conceits, but Sancho Panza his squire’s too, each of which would turn melancholy itself into mirth: for all that, I will hold my peace, I will say nothing, and see whether I guess right, that Signior Carrasco’s pains will be to no purpose.’ Who answered that as yet the business was brought to a good pass, and he hoped for a happy success; and so, offering Don Antonio his service, he took leave of him. And causing his armour to be packed upon a great he-mule, at the instant he got himself upon the horse with which he entered the lists; and the same day he went out of the city homeward, where by the way nothing happened to him worth the relating in this true history.

Don Antonio told the viceroy all that Carrasco said; at which he received not much content, for in Don Quixote’s retirement was theirs also that ever had notice of his mad pranks.

Six days was Don Quixote in his bed, all muddy, sad and sorrowful, and wayward, descanting in his thoughts upon his ill fortune to be vanquished. Sancho comforted him, and, amongst other reasons, told him, ‘Signior mine, cheer up, be lively, if you can, give Heaven thanks that, though you came with a tumbling-cast to the ground, yet you have never a rib broken; and since you know that sweet meat must have sour sauce, and that there is not always good cheer where there is a smoking chimney, cry, A fig for the physician! since you need not his help in this disease. Let’s home to our houses, and leave looking after these adventures thorough countries and places we know not; and if you consider it well, I am here the greatest loser, though you be in the worst pickle. I, though when I left to be a governor, left also my desires that way, yet left not my desire of being an earl, which will never be effected, if you leave to be a king, by leaving the exercise of chivalry, and so my hopes are like to vanish into smoke.’

‘Peace, Sancho,’ said Don Quixote; ‘my retirement shall be but for a year, and then I’ll straight to my honourable profession again, and I shall not want a kingdom for myself, and some earldom for thee.’

‘God grant it,’ said Sancho, ‘and let sin be deaf; for I have always heard that a good hope is better than a bad possession.

In this discourse they were, whenas Don Antonio entered, with shows of great content, saying, My reward, Signior Don Quixote, for the news I bring; for Don Gregorio and the runagate Spaniard with him are upon the wharf — the wharf, quoth I? in the viceroy’s house, and will be here presently.’

Don Quixote was somewhat revived, and said, ‘Truly I was about to have said, I would it had been otherwise, that I might have gone into Barbary, and with the strength and vigour of this arm not only have given liberty to Don Gregorio, but to all the Christian captives in Barbary. But what say I, wretch that I am? Am not I vanquished? Am not I overthrown? Am not I he that must not touch arms this twelve months? What then do I promising? Why do I praise myself, since it were fitter for me to use a distaff than a sword?’

‘No more of that, sir,’ said Sancho; ‘a man is a man, though he have but a hose on his head. To-day for thee, and to-morrow for me; and for these thumps and encounters there is no heed to be taken; for he that falls to-day may rise to-morrow, except it be that he mean to lie a-bed; I mean, to dismay, and not take heart to fresh skirmishes; and therefore raise you yourself now, to welcome Don Gregorio, for methinks the people of the house are in an uproar, and by this he is come.’

And he said true, for Don Gregorio having given the viceroy account of his going and coming, desirous to see Anna Felix, he came with the runagate to Don Antonio’s house; and though Don Gregorio, when they brought him out of Algiers, were in a woman’s habit, yet by the way in the boat he changed it with a captive, that came with him; but in whatsoever habit he had been in, he would have seemed a personage worthy to be coveted, sought after, and served; for he was extraordinary comely, and about some seventeen or eighteen years of age.

Ricote and his daughter went out to welcome him, the father with tears, and the daughter with honesty. They did not embrace each other, for where there is love there is never much looseness. The two joint beauties of Don Gregorio and Anna Felix astonished all the bystanders. Silence there spoke for the two lovers, and their eyes were tongues that discovered their joyful but honest thoughts; the runagate told them the means and sleight he had used to get Don Gregorio away. Don Gregorio told his dangers and straits he was put to, amongst the women with whom he remained, not in tedious manner, but with much brevity; where he showed that his discretion was above his years.

Finally, Ricote paid and royally satisfied, as well the runagate, as those that had rowed with him. The runagate was reduced and reincorporated with the Church, and of a rotten member became clean and sound, by penance and repentance.

Some two days after, the viceroy treated with Don Antonio about means that Ricote and his daughter might remain in Spain, thinking it to be no inconvenience that so Christianly a father and daughter should remain, and, to see to, so well intentionated.

Don Antonio offered to negotiate it amongst other business, for which he was to go to the court of necessity, letting them know that there, by favour and bribes, many difficult matters are ended.

‘There is no trust in favours or bribes,’ said Ricote then present; ‘for with the grand Don Bernardino de Velasco, Count Salazar, to whom his Majesty hath given in charge our expulsion, neither entreaties, promises, bribes, or compassion can prevail; for, though true it be that he mixeth his justice with mercy, yet because he sees that the whole body of our nation is putrid and contaminated, he useth rather cauterising that burns it than ointment that softens it; and so with prudence, skill, diligence, and terror, he hath borne upon his strong shoulders, and brought to due execution, the weight of this great machine, our industries, tricks, sleights, and frauds, not being able to blind his watchful eyes of Argus, which wake continually; to the end that none of ours may remain that, like a hidden root, may in time sprout up, and scatter venomous fruit throughout all Spain, now cleansed and free from the fear into which their multitude put her; a heroic resolution of the Grand Philip the Third, and unheard-of wisdom, to have committed it to Don Bernardino de Velasco.’

‘Well, when I come thither,’ said Don Antonio, ‘I will use the best means I can, and let Heaven dispose what shall be fittest. Don Gregorio shall go with me, to comfort the affliction of his parents for his absence; Anna Felix shall stay with my wife here, or in a monastery; and I know the viceroy will be glad to have honest Ricote stay with him, till he sees how I can negotiate.’

The viceroy yielded to all that was proposed; but Don Gregorio, knowing what passed, said that by no means he could or would leave Anna Felix; but, intending to see his friends, and to contrive how he might return for her, at length he agreed. Anna Felix remained with Don Antonio’s wife, and Ricote in the viceroy’s house.

The time came that Don Antonio was to depart, and Don Quixote and Sancho, which was some two days after, for Don Quixote’s fall would not suffer him to travel sooner. When Don Gregorio parted from Anna Felix, all was tears, swooning, sighs, and sobs. Ricote offered Don Gregorio a thousand crowns; but he refused them, and borrowed only five of Don Antonio, to pay him at the court again. With this they both departed, and Don Quixote and Sancho next, as hath been said, Don Quixote disarmed, and Sancho on foot, because Dapple was laden with the armour.

Gavilan College celebrates 400 years of Don Quijote

The History of Don Quixote - The Second Part

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