The Story of Don Quixote - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Story of Don Quixote Part 27 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
But Sancho was not to be persuaded, and the general of the fortress, who was eager to know why Sancho was urged to lash himself, could not wait for a reply to his question, for there loomed up on the horizon a ship which attracted his attention, and he immediately gave orders to the captain to steer down upon it.
After an adventure on the seas, the first they had ever experienced, Don Quixote and Sancho came back to Barcelona that afternoon, and returned to the house of their host, escorted by the Viceroy, the General and the other high dignitaries.
CHAPTER LXIV
TREATING OF THE ADVENTURE WHICH GAVE DON QUIXOTE MORE UNHAPPINESS THAN ALL THAT HAD HITHERTO BEFALLEN HIM
A few days after Don Quixote had visited the galley, he was riding along the beach one morning on Rocinante dressed in his armor, when suddenly he observed coming toward him a knight, also in full regalia, with a shining moon painted on his shield. As he came close to Don Quixote, he held in his horse, and spoke to our knight thus: "Ill.u.s.trious knight, and never sufficiently extolled Don Quixote of La Mancha, I am the Knight of the White Moon, whose unheard-of achievements will perhaps recall him to thy memory. I come to do battle with thee and prove the might of thy arm, to the end that I make thee acknowledge and confess that my lady, let her be who she may, is incomparably fairer than thy Dulcinea del Toboso."
And then the Knight of the White Moon went on to say that should he conquer Don Quixote, the Knight of the Lions must retire to his native village for a period of one year, and live there in peace and quiet, away from all knightly endeavors and deeds. Should, however, Don Quixote turn out to be the victor, he, the challenger, would gladly forfeit his head, as well as the renown of his many deeds and conquests, his arms and horse to him. He bade Don Quixote consider the challenge and give a speedy answer, for he had but that day at his disposal for the combat.
Don Quixote was taken aback at the audacity and arrogance with which the knight had stated his demands, particularly when he took into consideration that he had never in his whole life heard him even spoken of, much less had he heard of the deeds and victorious combats he had named. But he accepted the challenge with calm pride on the conditions the Knight of the White Moon had given, barring the one which involved transferring his renown to Don Quixote's shoulders in case of his being vanquished. To our knight that seemed like taking too great chances, since he had no idea what the nature of the challenger's deeds might be, and since he was thoroughly satisfied with his own achievements.
It so happened that the Viceroy had observed the Knight of the White Moon in conversation with Don Quixote, and thinking that some one had planned another joke on him, he hastened to Don Antonio's house, and got him to accompany him to the beach, where they found the two knights just taking their distance, and about to commence the combat.
Don Antonio was as startled when he saw the other knight as the Viceroy had been, and neither one could make up his mind whether the whole thing was a joke, or not, for no one there seemed to know who the Knight of the White Moon was. However, the two gentlemen at last decided it could be nothing but a prank, planned by some gentleman for his own amus.e.m.e.nt. The Viceroy then turned to the knight and, learning that the combat was being fought to decide a question of precedence of beauty, bade them set to if both of them still remained unshaken and inflexible in their convictions. The two combatants, having thanked the Viceroy for his permission, separated and again took up the necessary distance. Their horses wheeled around and the knights came against each other with all the speed their mounts were capable of. But the Knight of the White Moon was mounted on a steed that completely outshone the poor Rocinante, for when they clashed, the poor hack fell from the mere force of the contact, and Don Quixote leaped over his head onto earth. At once the unknown knight held his lance over his visor and threatened him with death unless he confessed to being vanquished and acknowledged that he would abide by the conditions of the combat.
In a feeble voice Don Quixote answered him that in spite of his defeat Dulcinea still was the most beautiful woman in the world, but that now that his honor had been taken away from him, he might as well die; and he begged the knight to drive home the blow of his lance. But the Knight of the White Moon was a generous gentleman. He said he would not have our hero deny the beauty of his Dulcinea in deference to his own lady; all that he asked was that Don Quixote return to his village of La Mancha and give up knight-errantry as he had promised. Don Quixote rose in a sorry and battered condition and swore that he would keep his word like a true knight errant; and in the next instant the mysterious Knight of the White Moon set off toward the city at a quick canter.
As soon as the unknown knight had left, the Viceroy, Don Antonio and Sancho hastened to Don Quixote's side. They found him covered with perspiration and stiff in all his limbs. Rocinante had not yet stirred, for he, too, was in a deplorable condition. Sancho for once had lost his speech, and all that had happened to his master in so short a time seemed to him proof that the enchanters were still pursuing him. Now that his master for some time to come was to be confined to their own village, there would be no chance for him to redeem the promise he had made to his squire. Altogether it seemed to Sancho a sad state of affairs.
Don Quixote was in such a dilapidated condition that he had to be carried into the city in a hand-chair which the Viceroy had sent for, and they all escorted him to the house of Don Antonio.
CHAPTER LXV
WHEREIN IS MADE KNOWN WHO THE KNIGHT OF THE WHITE MOON WAS; LIKEWISE OTHER EVENTS
In the city the Viceroy and Don Antonio tried to locate the Knight of the White Moon, and when they had found the hostel at which he was staying Don Antonio went to call on him and learned that he was the bachelor Samson Carrasco, from the very same village as Don Quixote.
The bachelor, having explained his aims regarding the knight, packed his arms in a knapsack, took leave as soon as he had told his story, and set off at once for La Mancha, mounted on a mule.
A few days later, much to the sorrow of Sancho--who had never been so well fed in his life--Don Quixote and he took a fond farewell of their estimable and generous host who had heaped so many honors on them and who had enjoyed himself so tremendously at their expense. This time it was a sad and lonely journey on which they started. Don Quixote was mounted on Rocinante, who had somewhat recovered from his shock, but Sancho had to tread the trail on foot, for his Dapple had to serve as a carrier for the discarded armor of our late and lamented valiant Knight of the Lions.
CHAPTERS LXVI-LXVII
OF THE RESOLUTION WHICH DON QUIXOTE FORMED TO TURN SHEPHERD AND TAKE TO A LIFE IN THE FIELDS WHILE THE YEAR FOR WHICH HE HAD GIVEN HIS WORD WAS RUNNING ITS COURSE; WITH OTHER EVENTS TRULY DELECTABLE AND HAPPY
Toward the end of the fifth day Don Quixote was resting in the shade of some trees, and as always happened when he lay down to rest, his thoughts turned to the disenchantment of his Dulcinea and a feeling of impatience with his selfish and uncharitable squire rose up within him. He pleaded with Sancho and implored him to go through with the ordeal bravely; but Sancho was unflinching in his stubbornness and insisted he could see no reason why he should be coupled with the disenchantment of the peerless fair one. Thus Don Quixote could only pray that his squire might be moved by compa.s.sion to perform some day the deed that would liberate his lady.
While discussing this subject so close to his heart Don Quixote had decided to pursue his journey, and while they were traveling along on the road to their village they again engaged in conversation. Suddenly they found themselves pa.s.sing the spot where they had been trampled on by the bulls, but Don Quixote, not wishing to have his thoughts return to anything so bitter, turned to Sancho and remarked that this was where they had encountered the gay shepherds and shepherdesses. And the next instant he had decided to emulate their example and turn shepherd himself, now that his calling of knight errant had come to an end; he would buy some ewes, he said, and together they would retire to some quiet pastoral nook where the woods and the fields met, and where pure crystal water sprang from the ledge of a rock and the fragrance of flowers was in the air. And there he would sing to Dulcinea, his platonic and only love. The thought of a life so calm and so far away from danger and knightly adventures pleased Sancho so greatly and made his enthusiasm run so high that he could not restrain a row of proverbs from falling from his lips. It was a flow so incessant that Don Quixote at last felt obliged to ask for a truce.
Night had now fallen, and Don Quixote thought it best to withdraw from the roadway and take refuge for the night some distance away from it.
Having supped, Sancho at once fell asleep, but his master sat up all that night, thinking of Dulcinea and making up rhymes to the sweetness of her memory.
CHAPTER LXVIII
OF THE BRISTLY ADVENTURE THAT BEFELL DON QUIXOTE
Don Quixote could not bear to see his squire sleep so restfully while he was being weighted down by all the cares of the world. So he woke Sancho, whose stolid unconcern about Dulcinea again was brought home to him, and almost went on his knees in order to induce him to scourge himself. He nearly wept in his efforts to have Sancho inflict the meager amount of three or four hundred lashes upon himself; but as ever the cruel squire remained unmoved. Don Quixote did everything in his power to entice him to do this beautiful deed of sacrifice. He held forth to him what a blessed night it would be for them, if he would only comply with his master's request, for then, Don Quixote suggested, they could spend the remainder of it singing, thus making this the beginning of the pastoral life to which they were about to devote themselves. But Sancho said he was no monk; and the idea of getting up in the middle of the night to perform such rituals did not appeal to him, he frankly avowed. The bewailings of his master, both in Castilian and in Latin, made no impression upon the hard-hearted Sancho, who remained as firm as the rock of Gibraltar, as far as the disenchantment was concerned.
Don Quixote had just made up his mind that it was a useless task to try to prevail upon Sancho at that hour to do his duty, when suddenly there was heard a tremendous and terrifying noise, which increased as it seemed to come closer. Sancho was so frightened that he at once took refuge behind Dapple, entrenching himself between the pack-saddle and his master's discarded armor; and Don Quixote got palpitation of the heart, and began to shiver. As Sancho peeped from behind his entrenchments and Don Quixote took courage to look, the grunting drove of six hundred pigs--for that is what it was--was so close upon them that in the next moment they found themselves knocked to the ground; but it was some time before all of the snorting, disrespectful animals had pa.s.sed their dirty feet over the prostrate bodies of the knight, his squire and their beasts and provisions.
Sancho rose first, smeared with dirt, and having been stirred to unusual depths by the condition in which he found himself, he begged his master to let him take his sword, saying he felt he had to kill some of the pigs in order to be soothed. The exceedingly bad manners they had displayed and especially the fact that they had crushed all the provisions into nothingness, had produced an ire in Sancho that seemed wellnigh irrepressible.
But Don Quixote calmed his squire with these words, spoken with a melancholy air: "Let them be, my friend. This insult is the penalty of my sin, and it is the righteous chastis.e.m.e.nt of Heaven that jackals should devour a vanquished knight, and wasps sting him and pigs trample him under foot."
To this Sancho Panza retorted pensively: "I suppose it is the chastis.e.m.e.nt of Heaven, too, that flies should p.r.i.c.k the squires of vanquished knights, and lice eat them, and hunger a.s.sail them. If we squires were the sons of the knights we serve, or their very near relations, it would be no wonder if the penalty of their misdeeds descended upon us, even to the fourth generation. But what have the Panzas to do with the Quixotes? Well, let us lie down again and sleep out what little of the night there is left, and G.o.d will send us dawn and we shall be all right."
Sancho lay down and slept, but his master sat up and commenced his emulation of the life of a shepherd by singing the song he had composed to his great love, accompanying it with his own sighs, and many wet tears. At last daylight came, and the sun awakened them both.
Sancho began to rub his eyes, and they both got up and made ready to journey further. But before leaving Sancho again cursed the pigs for having ruined his stores.
He and his master had traveled the whole day, when they encountered a number of men on horseback, and four or five men on foot, all heavily armed. Don Quixote's heart ached, for he could not forget his promise to the Knight of the White Moon. The men who were mounted approached our hero and Sancho, and surrounded them without speaking a word. Don Quixote attempted to ask a question, but one of them warned him to be silent by putting a finger to his lips, while another one pointed his lance against the knight's breast. Still another one took Rocinante by the bridle; while Sancho was being treated in the same manner by some of the others. Both Don Quixote and Sancho began to be worried as to the outcome of this adventure, for the whole proceeding seemed to them utterly mysterious.
They rode all that day, unable to make out where they were being taken, or who their mysterious captors were, and at last night came.
All the while the men were calling them all kinds of names, such as "bloodthirsty lions," "cannibals," "murderous Polyphemes" etc.; and Sancho was scared out of his wits, while Don Quixote was at his wits ends. Both were convinced that some terrible misfortune was in store for them, and they could only pray that they would get out of it as easily as possible.
Before they knew it, it was midnight, and soon after that Don Quixote recognized a castle, which he saw in the distance, as that of the Duke. He was amazed when he found that the men were taking him there, and he said to himself: "G.o.d bless me! What does this mean? It is all courtesy and politeness in this house; but with the vanquished, good turns into evil, and evil into worse." They entered the court, and found it arrayed in such a manner that they could not help being amazed and speechless, and they felt fear creeping into their hearts.
CHAPTER LXIX
OF THE STRANGEST AND MOST EXTRAORDINARY ADVENTURE THAT BEFELL DON QUIXOTE IN THE WHOLE COURSE OF THIS GREAT HISTORY
As soon as the hors.e.m.e.n had dismounted, they and the men on foot carried Don Quixote and Sancho bodily into the center of the court, which was illuminated with hundreds of torches and lamps placed all around it. In the very center there was a catafalque, elevated to a height of several yards above the ground and covered by a huge canopy of black velvet. To the catafalque steps led from all around, and on the steps were hundreds of wax tapers burning in silver candlesticks.
On the catafalque lay the dead body of a beautiful maiden. On one side of the stage there was a large platform on which sat two figures, with scepters in their hands and crowns on their heads: judging by this, Don Quixote thought they must be royal personages. On the side of this platform were two empty chairs, to which Don Quixote and Sancho were led. And when they had seated themselves and turned around to observe what was going to happen, they were suddenly startled by seeing their friends, the Duke and the d.u.c.h.ess, mount the platform and seat themselves next to the royalty.
Don Quixote and Sancho both paid them homage by rising and bowing profoundly, and the ducal pair returned their compliment with a slight bow of the head. Following them came a long row of attendants.
Then suddenly Don Quixote came to realize that the corpse was none other than that of the fair Altisidora, whose love he had scorned, and that shocked him greatly.
Some one connected with the ceremonies pa.s.sed at that moment and threw a robe of black buckram covered with painted red flames of fire over Sancho and, removing his cap, put on his head a miter of the kind that those who were undergoing the sentence of the Holy Office wore. At the same time he whispered in Sancho's ear that if he opened his lips, his life would not be safe.
At first Sancho, seeing all the flames that seemed to be licking his body, got frightened, but when he found that no heat ensued and nothing else happened, his worries ceased. In the next moment his and his master's attention was attracted by low, sweet sounds of music and singing that seemed to vibrate from underneath the catafalque; and then there appeared a youth with a harp, and he sang a song that dealt with the cruelty of Don Quixote toward the fair Altisidora, who now was dead from a broken heart.