CHAP. VII. Of the second departure which our good Knight, Don-Quixote, made from his house, to seek Adventures, W Hile they were thus busied, Don-Quixote began to cry aloud, say ing, Here, here valourous Knights, here it is needfull that you shew the force of your valiant armes; for the Courtiers begin to bear away the best of the Tourney. The folk repairing to this rumour and noyse, was an occasion, that any farther speech and visitation of the books was omitted; and therefore it is to be suspected, that The Ca •• le •• and Lyon of Spain, with the acts of the Emperor Charles the fifth, written by Don Luis de Avila, were burned, without being ever seen or heard; and perhaps if the Curate had seen them, they should not have pas'd 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 out-cries, cutting and flashing on every side, being as b ••• dly 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 setled, he said turning himself to the Curate, In good sooth Lord Archbishop Turpin, it is a great dishonor to us that are called the twelve Peers, to permit the Knights of the Court to bear thus away the glory of the Tournay without more adoe; seeing that we the Adventures have gained the prize thereof the three formost dayes. Hold your peace good Gossip, quoth the Curate, for fortune may be pleased to change the successe; & what is lost to day, may be wonn again to morrow: Look you to your health for the present; for you seem at least to be very much tyred, 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 Oake-tree; and all for envy, because he sees that I only dare oppose my self to his valour: But let me be never again called Ray nold of Montealban, if he pay not deerly for it, as soon as I rise from this Bed, in despite of all his inchantment. But I pray you call for my breakfast, for I know it will doe me much good, and have the revenge of this wrong to my charge. Presently meat was brought; and after he had eaten he fell a sleep, and they remained astonished at his wonderfull madnesse. That night the old woman burned all the books that she found in the house and yard; and some there were burned, that deserved, for their worthy nesse, to be kept up in everlasting Treasuries, if their fortunes and the lazinesse of the Searchers had permitted it. And so the proverb was verrified in them, That the Just payes sometimes for the Sinners. One of the remedies which the Curate and the Bar ber prescribed for that present, to help their friends Disease, was, that they should change his Chamber, and dam up his Study, to the end, that when he arose, he might not finde them: for perhaps by removing the cause, they might also take away the effects: And moreover, they bad them to say, that a certain Inchanter had carried them away, studie and all; which device was presently put in practise. And within two dayes after, Don-Quixote got up, and the first thing he did, was to goe and visit his books; and seeing he could not finde the Chamber in the same place where he had left it, hee went up and down to finde 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 an swer, 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 Divell himself carried all away with him. It was not the Divell, said his Niese, but an Inchanter 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 entred 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 smoak: And when we accorded to see what he had done, we could neither see Book or Studie: only this much the old woman. And I doe remember very well, that the naughty old man at his departure said, with a loud voyce, that he for hidden enmity that he bore to the Lord of those books had done all the harme to the house that they might perceive when he were departed, and added that he was named the wise Muni aton Frestron, you would have said, quoth Don-Quixote. I know not, quoth the old woman, whether he height 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 Inchanter, 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 over come him in battell, without being able to be by him assisted, and therefore he labours to doe 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 Niese? But I pray you good Unkle say; what need have you to thrust your self into these difficulties and brabbles? were it not better to rest you quietly in your own house, then to wander through the world, searching bread of [Buscardo pan de Tra strigo p. 47.) blasted corn? without once considering, how many there goe to seek for wooll, that return again shorn themselves. O Niese! quoth Don-Quixote, how ill doest thou understand the matter? before I permit my self 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 woman would make no reply, because they saw his choler increase. Fifteene dayes he remained quietly at home, without giving any argument of se conding his former vanities: in which time past many pleasant encounters betweene 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 errati call Knighthood ought to be again renewed therein. Master Parson would contradict him sometimes, and other times yeeld 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 ti tle of honesty may be given to the poore) but one of a very shallow wit; in resolution he said so much to him, and perswaded him so earnesty, and made him so large pro mises, as the poore fellow determined to goe away with him, and serve him as his Squire. Don-Quixote among many other things bad him to dispose himself willingly to depart with him; for now and then such an adventure might present it self, 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 Panca, 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 atchieved by selling one thing, pawning another, and turning all up-side 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 he could: he advertised his Squire Sancho of the day and hour wherein he meant to depart, that he might likewise furnish him self with that which he thought needfull; but above all things he charged him to pro vide himself of a Wallet; which he promised to perform, and said that he meant also to carry a very good Asse, which he had of his own, because he was not wont to travell much a foot. In that of the Asse Don-Quixote stood a while pensive, calling to minde whether ever he had read, that any Knight Errant 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 accomodate him more honourably, when occasion were offered, by dismounting the first-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 Inn-keepers advise. All which being fi nished, Sancho Panca without bidding his wife and children farewell, or Don-Quixote his Niese and old servant, they both departed one night out of the Village unknown to any person living; and they travelled so farr that night, as they were sure in the morning not to be found, although they were pursued. Sancho Pancha rode on his beast like a Patriark with his Wallet and Bottle, and a marvellous longing to see him self Governour of the Island which his master had promised unto him. Don-Quixote took by chance the same very course and way that he had done in his first voyage through the field of Montiel, wherein he travelled then with lesse vexation then the first; for by reason it was early, and the Sun beams stroke not directly down, but athwart; the heat did not trouble them much. And Sancho Pancha seeing the opor tunity 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 replyed; You must un derstand friend Sancho Pancha, that it was a custome very much used by ancient Knights Errant, to make their Squires Governours of the Islands and Kingdoms that they conquered; and I am resolved that so good a custome shall never be abolished by me; but rather I will passe and exceed them therein: for they sometimes, and as I take it, did for the greater part expect untill their Squires waxed aged, and after they were cloyed with service, and had suffered many bad dayes and worse nights; then did they bestow upon them some title of an Earl, or at least of a Marquesse of some Valley or Province, of more or lesse account. But if thou livest, and I withall; it may happen, that I may conquer such a Kingdome within six dayes, that hath other King domes 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 doe not ac count this to be any great matter, for things and chances do happen to such Knights Adventurers as I am, by so unexpected and wonderfull wayes and means, as I might give thee very easily, a great deal more then I have promised. After that manner, said Sancho Pancha, if I were a King through some miracle of those which you say, then should Iean Gutierez my wife become a Queen, and my children Princes. Who doubts of that, said Don-Quixote? That doe I, replyed Sancha Panca; for I am fully per swaded, that although God would rain Kingdomes down upon the earth, none of them would sit well on Mary Gutierez her head. For Sir, you must understand that shee's not worth a Dodkin for a Queen. To be a Countesse 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 conveni ent for her. But doe not thou abase thy minde so much, as to content thy self with lesse then at the least to be a Vice-Roy. I will not, good Sir, quoth Sancho, especially seeing I have so worthy a Lord and Master as your self, who knows how to give me all that may turn to my benefit, and that I shall be able to discharge in good sort.