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The First BookChapter VII.
Chapter VII.
Of the Second Departure Which Our Good Knight, Don Quixote, Made from His
House to Seek Adventures
While they were thus busied, Don Quixote began to cry aloud, saying,
`Here, here, valorous knights! Here it is needful that you show the force of
your valiant arms; for the courtiers begin to bear away the best of the
tourney.` The folk repairing to this rumour and noise, was an occasion that
any further speech and visitation of the books was omitted; and therefore it
is to be suspected, that the Carolea and Lion of Spain, with the Acts of the
Emperor Charles the Fifth, written by Don Louis de Avila, were burned, without
being ever seen or heard; and perhaps if the curate had seen them, they should
not have passed under so rigorous a sentence. When they all arrived to Don
Quixote his chamber, he was risen already out of his bed, and continued still
his outcries, cutting and slashing on every side, being so broadly awake as if
he never had slept. Wherefore, taking him in their arms, they returned him by
main force into his bed, and, after he was somewhat quiet and settled, he
said, turning himself to the curate, `In good sooth, Lord Archbishop Turpin,
it is a great dishonour to us that are called the twelve Peers, to permit the
knights of the court to bear thus away the glory of the tourney without more
ado, seeing that we the adventurers have gained the prize thereof the three
foremost days.` `Hold your peace, good gossip,` quoth the curate, `for fortune
may be pleased to change the success, and what is lost to-day may be won again
to-morrow. Look you to your health for the present; for you seem at least to
be very much tired, if besides you be not sore wounded.` `Wounded! no,` quoth
Don Quixote; `but doubtless I am somewhat bruised, for that bastard, Don
Rowland, hath beaten me to powder with the stock of an oak-tree; and all for
envy, because he sees that I only dare oppose myself to his valour. But let me
be never again called Raynold of Montealban if he pay not dearly for it, as
soon as I rise from this bed, in despite of all his enchantment. But, I pray
you, call for my breakfast, for I know it will do me much good, and leave the
revenge of this wrong to my charge.` Presently meat was brought; and after he
had eaten he fell asleep, and they remained astonished at his wonderful
madness. That night the old woman burned all the books that she found in the
house and yard; and some there were burnt that deserved, for their worthiness,
to be kept up in everlasting treasuries, if their fortunes and the laziness of
the searchers had permitted it. And so the proverb was verified in them, `that
the just pays sometimes for the sinners.` One of the remedies which the curate
and the barber prescribed for that present, to help their friend`s disease,
was that they should change his chamber, and dam up his study, to the end
that, when he arose, he might not find them; for, perhaps, by removing the
cause, they might also take away the effects: and, moreover, they bade them to
say that a certain enchanter had carried them away, study and all; which
device was presently put in practice. And, within two days after, Don Quixote
got up, and the first thing he did was to go and visit his books; and seeing
he could not find the chamber in the same place where he had left it, he went
up and down to find it. Sometimes he came to the place where the door stood,
and felt it with his hands, and then would turn his eyes up and down here and
there to seek it, without speaking a word. But at last, after deliberation, he
asked of the old woman the way to his books. She, as one well schooled before
what she should answer, said, "What study, or what nothing, is this you look
for? There is now no more study nor books in this house; for the very devil
himself carried all away with him.` `It was not the devil,` said his niece,
`but an enchanter, that came here one night upon a cloud, the day after you
departed from hence; and, alighting down from a serpent upon which he rode, he
entered into the study, and what he did therein I know not; and within a while
after he fled out at the roof of the house, and left all the house full of
smoke; and when we accorded to see what he had done, we could neither see book
nor study: only this much the old woman and I do remember very well, that the
naughty old man, at his departure, said, with a loud voice, that he, for
hidden enmity that he bore to the lord of those books, had done all the harm
to the house that they might perceive when he were departed, and added that he
was named the wise Muniaton. `Frestron, you would have said.` quoth Don
Quixote. `I know not,` quoth the old woman, whether he hight Frestron or
Friton, but well I wot that his name ended with "ton." `That is true,` quoth
Don Quixote; `and he is a very wise enchanter, and my great adversary, and
looks on me with a sinister eye; for he knows, by his art and science, that I
shall in time fight a single combat with a knight, his very great friend, and
overcome him in battle, without being able to be by him assisted, and
therefore he labours to do me all the hurt he may; and I have sent him word,
that he strives in vain to divert or shun that which is by Heaven already
decreed.` `Who doubts of that?` quoth his niece. `But I pray you, good uncle,
say, what need have you to thrust yourself into these difficulties and
brabbles? Were it not better to rest you quietly in your own house, than to
wander through the world, searching bread of blasted cord, without once
considering how many there go to seek for wool that return again shorn
themselves? `Oh, niece,` quoth Don Quixote, `how ill dost thou understand the
matter! Before I permit myself to be shorn, I will pill and pluck away the
beards of as many as shall dare or imagine to touch but a hair only of me.` To
these words the women would make no reply, because they saw his choler
increase.
[See Again To His Bed: They closed in with him, and by main force conveyed him
again to his bed.]
Fifteen days he remained quietly at home, without giving any argument of
seconding his former vanities; in which time passed many pleasant encounters
between him and his two gossips, the curate and barber, upon that point which
he defended, to wit, that the world needed nothing so much as knights-errant,
and that the erratical knighthood ought to be again renewed therein. Master
parson would contradict him sometimes, and other times yield unto that he
urged; for had they not observed that manner of proceeding, it were impossible
to bring him to any conformity. In this space Don Quixote dealt with a certain
labourer, his neighbour, an honest man (if the title of honesty may be given
to the poor), but one of a very shallow wit; in resolution, he said so much to
him, and persuaded him so earnestly, and made him so large promises, as the
poor fellow determined to go away with him, and serve him as his squire. Don
Quixote, among many other things, bade him to dispose himself willingly to
depart with him; for now and then such an adventure might present itself,
that, in as short space as one would take up a couple of straws, an island
might be won, and he be left as governor thereof. With these and such like
promises, Sancho Panza (for so he was called) left his wife and children, and
agreed to be his squire. Afterward, Don Quixote began to cast plots how to
come by some money; which he achieved by selling one thing, pawning another,
and turning all upside down. At last he got a pretty sum, and, accommodating
himself with a buckler which he had borrowed of a friend, and patching up his
broken beaver again as well as he could, he advertised his squire Sancho of
the day and hour wherein he meant to depart, that he might likewise furnish
himself with that which he thought needful; but above all things he charged
him to provide himself of a wallet; which he promised to perform, and said
that he meant also to carry a very good ass, which he had of his own, because
he was not wont to travel much a-foot. In that of the ass Don Quixote stood
a while pensive, calling to mind whether ever he had read that any
knighterrant carried his squire assishly mounted; but he could not remember
any authority for it; yet, notwithstanding, he resolved that he might bring
his beast, with intention to accommodate him more honourably, when occasion
were offered, by dismounting the fist discourteous knight they met, from his
horse, and giving it to his squire; he also furnished himself with shirts, and
as many other things as he might, according unto the innkeeper`s advice. All
which being finished, Sancho Panza, without bidding his wife and children
farewell, or Don Quixote his niece and old servant, they both departed one
night out of the village, unknown to any person living; and they travelled so
far that night, as they were sure in the morning not to be found, although
they were pursued. Sancho Panza rode on his beast like a patriarch, with his
wallet and bottle, and a marvellous longing to see himself governor of the
island which his master had promised unto him.
Don Quixote took by chance the very same course and way that he had done
in his first voyage through the field of Montiel, wherein he travelled then
with less vexation than the first: for, by reason it was early, and the
sunbeams striking not directly down, but athwart, the heat did not trouble
them much. And Sancho Panza, seeing the opportunity good, said to his master,
`I pray you, have care, good sir knight, that you forget not that government
of the island which you have promised me, for I shall be able to govern it
were it never so great.` To which Don Quixote replied; `You must understand,
friend Sancho Panza, that it was a custom very much used by ancient
knights-errant, to make their squires governors of the islands and kingdoms
that they conquered; and I am resolved that so good a custom shall never be
abolished by me, but rather I will pass and exceed them therein; for they
sometimes, and as I take it, did, for the greater part, expect until their
squires waxed aged; and after they were cloyed with service, and had suffered
many bad days and worse nights, then did they bestow upon them some title of
an earl, or at least of a marquis, of some valley or province, of more or less
account. But if thou livest, and I withal, it may happen that I may conquer
such a kingdom within six days, that hath other kingdoms adherent to it, which
would fall out as just as it were cast in a mould for thy purpose, whom I
would crown presently king of one of them. And do not account this to be any
great matter; for things and chances do happen to such knights - adventurers
as I am, by so unexpected and wonderful ways and means, as I might give thee
very easily a great deal more than I have promised.` `After that manner,` said
Sancho Panza, `if I were a king, through some miracle of those which you say,
then should Joan Gutierez, my wife, become a queen, and my children princes!`
`Who doubts of that?` said Don Quixote. `That do I,` replied Sancho Panza;
`for I am fully persuaded, that although God would rain kingdoms down upon the
earth, none of them would sit well on Mary Gutierez her head; for, sir, you
must understand that she`s not worth a dodkin for a queen. To be a countess
would agree with her better; and yet, I pray God that she be able to discharge
that calling.` `Commend thou the matter to God,` quoth Don Quixote, `that He
may give her that which is most convenient for her. But do not thou abase thy
mind so much as to content thyself with less than at the least to be a
viceroy.` `I will not, good sir,` quoth Sancho, `especially seeing I have so
worthy a lord and master as yourself, who knows how to give me all that may
turn to my benefit, and that I shall be able to discharge in good sort.`
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