Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
"Sancho my son, do not drink water! My son, do not drink it, for it will kill you! Do you see? Here I have the blessed balm"--and he showed him the cruet filled with the potion--"and if you drink only two drops, you surely will be healed."
At these words Sancho looked at him askance and said in an even louder voice:
"Has your grace by chance forgotten that I'm not a knight, or do you want me to finish vomiting up whatever guts I have left from last night? You can keep your potion or send it to the devil; just leave me alone."
And saying this and beginning to drink were all one, but at the first swallow he saw that it was water and did not wish to continue, and he asked Maritornes to bring him wine; she did so very willingly and paid for it with her own money, because it can truly be said of her that though she followed the trade that she did, she bore a remote resemblance to a Christian woman.
As soon as Sancho finished drinking, he dug his heels into his donkey, and the gate of the inn was opened wide for him, and he left, very pleased at not paying anything and having his way, though it had been at the expense of his usual guarantor, which was his back. The truth is that the innkeeper had kept his saddlebags as payment, but Sancho was so distracted when he left that he did not miss them. The innkeeper wanted to bar the gate as soon as he saw them outside, but the blanket tossers did not agree, for they were people who would not have cared an ardite 4 even if Don Quixote really had been one of the knights errant of the Round Table.
CHAPTER XVIII
Which relates the words that passed between Sancho Panza and his master, Don Quixote, and other adventures that deserve to be recounted
When Sancho reached his master, he was so weak and enfeebled that he could not even prod his donkey. Seeing him in this state, Don Quixote said:
"Now I am convinced, my good Sancho, that this castle or inn is undoubtedly enchanted, because what else could those who so brutally took their amusement with you be but phantoms or beings from the next world? And I can attest to this because I saw, when I was at the wall of the corral watching the events in your sad tragedy, that it was not possible for me to climb over the wall or even to dismount Rocinante, and therefore they must have enchanted me, for I swear to you, by who I am, that if I could have climbed over or dismounted, I should have avenged you in a way that would have made those varlets and knaves remember the experience for the rest of their days, even though by so doing I should have contravened the laws of chivalry, which, as I have told you so often, do not permit a knight to raise a hand against one who is not a knight, except in defense of his own life and person in circumstances of urgent and great necessity."
"I would have taken my revenge, too, if I could have, knight or no knight, but I couldn't, though in my opinion the ones who had so much fun with me weren't phantoms or enchanted beings, as your grace says, but men of flesh and blood, like us; and all of them, as I heard when they were making me turn somersaults, had names, and one was Pedro Martinez, and the other Tenorio Hernandez, and I heard that the innkeeper's name was Lefthanded Juan Palomeque. And so, Senor, your not being able to get over the corral wall or off your horse was due to something besides enchantments. And what's clear to me in all this is that in the long run, these adventures we're looking for will bring us so many misadventures that we won't know our right foot from our left. And the better and smarter thing, to the best of my poor understanding, would be for us to go back home now that it's harvesttime, and tend to our own affairs, and stop going from pillar to post and from bad to worse, as they say."
"How little you know, Sancho," Don Quixote responded, "about the matter of chivalry! Be quiet and have patience, for the day will come when you will see with your own eyes how honorable a thing it is to exercise this profession. If not, then tell me: what greater joy can there be in the world, what pleasure can equal that of conquering in battle and defeating one's enemy? None, most certainly there is none."
"That must be true," responded Sancho, "though I don't know anything about it; all I know is that ever since we've been knights errant, or your grace has been one (because there's no reason to include me in so honorable a company), we haven't won a single battle except for the one with the Basque, and even there your grace came out missing half an ear and half a shield; since then it's been nothing but cudgels and more cudgels, beatings and more beatings, and for me the extra advantage of being tossed in a blanket by enchanted beings, but I can't take my revenge on them so I'll never know how great the pleasure is of defeating my enemy, as your grace says."
"That is my sorrow, and it surely is yours as well, Sancho," responded Don Quixote, "but from this moment on I shall try to have at hand some sword so artfully made that whosoever carries it will be immune to any kind of enchantment; it well might be that fortune will grant me the one Amadis had when he was called The Knight of the Blazing Sword, 1 that being one of the best swords any knight in the world ever had, because, in addition to the virtue I have already mentioned, it cut like a razor, and no armor, no matter how strong or enchanted, could withstand it."
"I'm so lucky," said Sancho, "that when that happens and your grace finds such a sword, it'll be exactly like the balm and only work for and benefit dubbed knights, while squires can just swallow their sorrows."
"Do not be afraid, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "for heaven will deal more kindly with you than that."
As Don Quixote and his squire were having this conversation, Don Quixote saw a large, thick cloud of dust coming toward them along the road they were traveling, and when he saw it, he turned to Sancho and said:
"This is the day, O Sancho, when the good fortune that destiny has reserved for me will be revealed! This is the day, I say, when, as much as on any other, the valor of this my arm will be proved, and I shall perform deeds that will be inscribed in the book of Fame for all time to come. Do you see that cloud of dust rising there, Sancho? Well, it conceals a vast army, composed of innumerable and diverse peoples, which is marching toward us."
"If that's the case, there must be two," said Sancho, "because over in the opposite direction there's another cloud of dust just like it."
Don Quixote turned to look, and he saw that it was true; he was overjoyed, thinking, no doubt, that these were two armies coming to attack and fight each other in the middle of that broad plain. Because at all times and at every moment his fantasy was filled with the battles, enchantments, feats, follies, loves, and challenges recounted in books of chivalry, and everything he said, thought, or did was directed toward such matters. The dust clouds he saw had been raised by two large flocks of ewes and rams traveling along the same road from opposite directions, which could not be seen through the dust until they were very close. But Don Quixote insisted so fervently they were armies that Sancho believed him and said:
"Senor, then what should we do?"
"Do?" said Don Quixote. "Defend and protect the needy and helpless. You must know, Sancho, that the army in front of us is led and directed by the great Emperor Alifanfaron, lord of the great Insula Trapobane;2 the other, marching behind us, belongs to his enemy, the king of the Garamantes, Pentapolin of the Tucked-up Sleeve, so-called because he always enters into battle with a bare right arm."
"Why do these two gentlemen hate each other so much?" asked Sancho.
"They hate each other," responded Don Quixote, "because this Alifanfaron, a fierce pagan, is in love with Pentapolin's daughter, an exceedingly beauteous and charming lady, and a Christian, whose father does not wish to give her to the pagan king unless he first renounces the law of his false prophet Mohammed and turns to her faith."
"By my beard," said Sancho, "Pentapolin is doing just the right thing, and I'm bound to help him any way I can!"
"In this you would be doing just as you should, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "because to enter into battles such as these it is not required to be dubbed a knight."
"That's good enough for me," responded Sancho, "but where will we put this donkey so we're sure to find him when the
"That is true," said Don Quixote. "What you can do is let him find his own adventures, regardless of whether he is lost or not, because we shall have so many horses when we emerge victorious that even Rocinante runs the risk of being exchanged for another. But listen to me, and look, for I want to name for you the most eminent knights riding in these two armies. And so that you may see and mark them more clearly, let us withdraw to that hillock, where we should be able to perceive both armies."
This they did, riding to the top of a hill from which there would have been a clear view of the two flocks that Don Quixote took for armies if the clouds of dust they raised had not confused and blurred the sight of anyone looking at them, but despite this, in his imagination he saw what he did not see and what was not there, and in a loud voice he began to say:
"That knight you see there in the gold-colored armor, who bears on his shield a crowned lion kneeling at the feet of a damsel, is the valiant Laurcalco,3 lord of the Bridge of Silver; the other in armor with flowers of gold, who bears on his shield three crowns of silver on a blue field, is the redoubtable Micocolembo, grand duke of Quirocia; the one on his right with the gigantic limbs is the never fearful Brandabarbaran de Boliche, lord of the three Arabias, whose armor is a snakeskin and whose shield is a door rumored to be one of those from the temple demolished by Samson when, with his death, he wreaked vengeance on his enemies. Now turn your eyes in the other direction, and you will see in front of and at the head of the other army the ever victorious and never defeated Timonel of Carcajona, prince of Nueva Vizcaya, who wears his armor quartered--blue, green, white, and yellow--and who bears on his shield a cat of gold on a tawny field, with a legend that reads: Meow, which is the beginning of the name of his lady who, they say, is the peerless Miulina, daughter of Duke Alfeniquen of Algarbe; this other, who weighs down and oppresses the back of that powerful mare, whose armor is snowy white and whose shield is blank and lacking all devices, is a novice knight of the French nation, named Pierres Papin, lord of the baronies of Utrique; that one, who with armored heels is kicking the flanks of that colorful swift zebra and whose armor bears blue vairs,4 is the powerful duke of Nervia, Espartafilardo del Bosque, who bears as a device on his shield a bed of asparagus, with a legend in Castilian that reads: Follow my fate." 5
And in this fashion he named many knights from the two hosts, which he was imagining, and for all of them he improvised armor, colors, legends, and devices, carried along by the imagination of his unheard-of madness, and without pausing he continued, saying:
"This host facing us is made up and composed of people from diverse nations: here are those who drink the sweet waters of the famous Xanthus;6 the mountain folk who tread the Massilian plain; those who sift fine gold nuggets in Arabia Felix; those who enjoy the famous cool shores of the crystalline Thermodon; those who drain by many diverse means the golden Pactolus; and Numidians, untrustworthy in their promises; Persians, those notable archers; Parthians and Medes, who fight as they flee; Arabians, with movable houses; Scythians, as cruel as they are white-skinned; Ethiopians, with pierced lips; and an infinite number of other nations, whose faces I recognize and see, although I do not recall their names. In this other host come those who drink the crystalline currents of the olive-bearing Betis; those who shine and burnish their faces with the liquid of the forever rich and golden Tajo; those who enjoy the beneficial waters of the divine Genil; those who tread Tartessian fields, with their abundant pastures; those who take pleasure in the Elysian meadows of Jerez; Manchegans, rich and crowned with yellow spikes of wheat; those clad in iron, ancient relics of Gothic blood; those who bathe in the Pisuerga, famous for the gentleness of its current; those who graze their cattle on the extensive pasturelands of the sinuous Guadiana, celebrated for its hidden currents; those who tremble in the cold of the wooded Pyrenees and the white peaks of the high Apennines; in short, all those contained and sheltered in the entirety of Europe."
Lord save me! What a number of provinces he mentioned and nations he named, attributing to each one, with marvelous celerity, the characteristics that belonged to it, so absorbed and immersed was he in his lying books!
Sancho Panza hung on his words but said none of his own, and from time to time he turned his head to see if he could see the knights and giants his master was naming; since he could not make out any of them, he said:
"Senor, may the devil take me, but no man, giant, or knight of all those your grace has mentioned can be seen anywhere around here; at least, I don't see them; maybe it's all enchantment, like last night's phantoms."
"How can you say that?" responded Don Quixote. "Do you not hear the neighing of the horses, the call of the clarions, the sound of the drums?"
"I don't hear anything," responded Sancho, "except the bleating of lots of sheep."
And this was the truth, because the two flocks were drawing near.
"It is your fear, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that keeps you from seeing or hearing properly, because one of the effects of fear is to cloud the senses and make things appear other than they are; if you are so frightened, withdraw somewhere and leave me alone; alone I suffice to give victory to the army to whom I shall proffer my assistance."
And having said this, he spurred Rocinante, fixed his lance in its socket, and rode down the side of the hill like a flash of lightning. Sancho called to him, saying:
"Your grace, come back, Senor Don Quixote, I swear to God you're charging sheep! Come back, by the wretched father who sired me! What madness is this? Look and see that there are no giants or knights, no cats or armor or shields either parted or whole, no blue vairs or bedeviled ones, either. Poor sinner that I am in the sight of God, what are you doing?"
But none of this made Don Quixote turn back; instead, in a loud voice, he cried:
"Come, you knights who follow and serve under the banners of the valiant Emperor Pentapolin of the Tucked-up Sleeve, follow me, all of you, and you will see how easily I give you revenge upon your enemy Alifanfaron of Trapobane!"
Saying this, he rode into the midst of the host of sheep and began to run at them with his lance as fearlessly and courageously as if he really were attacking his mortal enemies. The shepherds and herdsmen guarding the flock came running, shouting for him to stop, but seeing that this had no effect, they unhooked their slings and began to greet his ears with stones as big as fists. Don Quixote took no notice of the stones; instead, he rode back and forth, crying:
"Where art thou, haughty Alifanfaron? Come here to me, for I am only one knight who wishes, in single combat, to try thy strength and take thy life as forfeit for the wrong thou hast done to the valiant Pentapolin Garamanta."
At that moment, a small round pebble7 came flying and hit him in the side, entombing two ribs inside his body. Seeing himself so battered, he undoubtedly believed he was dead or gravely wounded, and remembering his potion, he took out the cruet, put it to his mouth, and began to pour the potion into his stomach, but before he had finished swallowing what seemed to him a sufficient quantity, another almond came flying and hit his hand, striking the cruet so squarely that it broke into pieces, taking along three or four teeth and molars from his mouth and smashing two of his fingers.
The first blow was so hard, as well as the second, that the poor knight could not help falling from his horse. The shepherds came running and thought they had killed him, and so they hurriedly gathered their flocks together, picked up the dead animals, which numbered more than seven, and left without further inquiry.
All this time Sancho was on the hill, watching the lunatic actions of his master, and he tore at his beard, cursing the hour and the moment when fortune had allowed him to make his acquaintance. When he saw that Don Quixote was lying on the ground and that the shepherds had gone, he came down the slope and went over to his master and found him in a very bad way, although he had not lost consciousness, and he said to
"Didn't I tell you, Senor Don Quixote, to come back, that it wasn't armies you were attacking but flocks of sheep?"
"This is how that thieving wise man, who is my enemy, can make things disappear and seem to be what they are not. You should know, Sancho, that it is very easy for those like him to make us see whatever they wish, and this villain who pursues me, envious of the glory that he saw I would achieve in this battle, has turned the contending armies into flocks of sheep. And if you do not believe me, by my life you can do something, Sancho, to be undeceived and see the truth of what I am telling you: mount your donkey and follow them, with some cunning, and you will see how, when they have moved a certain distance away, they resume their original form and are no longer sheep but real, complete men, just as I first described them to you.... But do not go now, for I have need of your help and assistance; come here and see how many molars and teeth I have lost, because it seems to me I do not have a single one left in my mouth."