CHAP. I. Wherein is rehearsed the unfortunate-Adventure hapned to Don-Quixote, by encountring with certaine Yanguesian Car riers. T HE wise Cyd Hamete Venengeli recounteth, that as soone as Don-Quixote had taken leave of the Goatheards, his Hostes, the night before, and of all those that were present at the buri all of the Sheep-heard Crysostome; hee and his Squire did pre sently enter into the same Wood, into which they had seen the beautifull Sheepheardesse Marcela enter before; And having travelled in it about the space of two houres without finding of her, they arived in fine to a pleasant Meadow, inriched with a bundance of flourishing grasse, neere unto which runnes a de lightfull and refreshing streame, which did invite, yea constraine them thereby to passe over the heat of the day, which did then beginne to enter with great fervor and vehe mency. Don-Quixote and Sancho alighted, and leaving the Asse and Rozinante to the spaciousnesse of these Plaines, to feede on the plenty of grasse that was there, they ran sackt their Wallet, where without any ceremonie the master and man did eate with good accord and fellowship, what they found therein. Sancho had neglected to tie Ro zinante sure, that hee knew him to bee so sober and little wanton, as all the Mares of the Pasture of Cordova could not make him to think the least sinister thought. But For tune did ordain, or rather the Devill who sleeps not at all houres, that a Troope of Gali cian Mares, belonging to certain Yanguesian Carriers, did feed up and down in the same Valley: which Carriers are wont, with their beasts, to passe over the heates in places situated neere unto grasse and water. And that wherein Don-Quixote hapned to bee, was very fit for their purpose. It therefore befell that Rozinante tooke a certain desire to sollace himself with the Lady Mares, and therefore as soone as hee had smelt them, abandoning his naturall pace and custome, without taking leave of his Master, hee be gen a little swift trot, and went to communicate his necessities to them. But they, who as it seemed, had more desire to feede then to sollace them, entertained him with their heeles and teeth, in such sort, as they broke all his gyrts, and left him in his naked hayre, having overthrown the Saddle. But that which surely grieved him most was, that the Carriers perceiving the violence that was offered by him to their Mares, repai red presently to their succours, with clubs and truncheons, and did so belabour him, as they farely laid him along. Now in this season Don-Quixote and Sancho (which be held the bombasting of Rozinante) approached breathlesse, and Don-Quixote said to Sancho, for as much as I can perceive friend Sancho these men are no Knights, but base rascally people of vile quality: I say it, because thou mayst help mee to take due re venge for the outrage which they have done before our face to Rozinante. What a divel quoth Sancho, what revenge should wee take, if these bee more then twenty, and wee but two, and peradventure but one and a half. I am worth a hundred, replied Don-Quixote, and without making any longer discourse, hee set hand to his sword, and flew upon the Yanguesians, and Sancho Panca moved by his Lords example did the like: when with the first blow Don-Quixote piercing a buffe coate that one of them wore, wounded him grievously in the shoulder. The Yanguesians seeing themselves so rudely handled by two men only, they being so many, ran to the stakes and truncheons of their Carriage, and hemming in their Adversaries in the midst of them. they laid on them with admirable speede and vehemency. True it is that at the second Peale they struck Sancho downe to the ground, and the like hapned to Don-Quixote, his dexterity and courage being nothing availeable in that traunce; and his fate so ordayning hee fell just at his Coursers feete, who had not yet gotten up; by which wee may ponder the fury wherewithall truncheons batter, being placed in wrathfull and rusticall fists. The Carriers perceiving the evill they had committed, trussing up their loading with all possible speede, followed on their way, leaving both the Adventurers in a bad fashion, and a worse talent. The first that came to himself was Sancho Panca, who seeing his Lord neere unto him, said with a weake and pittifull voice, Sir Don-Quixote! O Sir Don-Quixote! what wouldst thou have brother Sancho, replied the Knight, with the like efeminate and dolefull tune? I would, quoth Sancho have of your worship, a draught or two of the liquor of Feoblas, if you have any of it at hand, perhaps it is good to cure broken bones, as well as it helps wounds, What would wee want, unhappy that I am replied Don-Quixote, if I had it here, but I sweare unto these Sancho Panca, by the faith of a Knight errant, that before two daies passe (if fortune dispose not otherwise) I will have it in my power, or it shall hardly escape my hands. I pray you, quoth San cho, within how many dayes think you shall wee bee able to stirre our feete? I can say of my selfe, quoth the crushed Knight, that I cannot set a certain term to the dayes of our recovery, but I am in the fault of all; for I should not have drawn my Sword a gainst men that are not Knights, as well as I am, and therefore I beleeve that the God of Battels hath permitted that this punishment should bee given unto mee, in paine of transgressing the lawes of Knighthood. Wherefore brother Sancho, it is requisite that thou beest advertized of that which I shall say unto thee now, for it importeth both our goods very much, and is, that when thou beholdest that the like rascally Rabble doe us any wrong, doe not wait till I set hand to my Sword against them; for I will not doe it in any sort: But draw thou thine and chastise them at thy pleasure; and if any Knights shall come to their assistance and succour, I shall know then how to defend thee, and offend them with all my force, for thou hast by this perceived by a thousand signes and experiences, how far the valour of this mine invincible Arme extendeth it self (so arrogant remained the poore Knight, through the victory hee had gotten of the hardy Biscaine.) But this advice of his Lord seemed not so good to Sancho Panca, as that hee would omit to answere unto him, saying, Sir, I am a peaceable, quiet and so ber man, and can dissemble any injury, for I have wife and children to maintaine and bring up; wherefore let this likewise bee an advice to you (seeing it cannot be a com mandement) that I will not set hand to my Sword in any wise, bee it against Clowne or Knight; and that from this time forward, I doe pardon, before God, all the wrongs that they have done, or shall doe unto mee, whether they were, bee, or shall bee done by high or low person, rich or poore, Gentleman or Churle, without excep ting any state or condition. Which being heard by his Lord, hee said; I could wish to have breath enough, that I might answere thee with a little more case, or that the griefe which I feele in this rib were asswaged ever so little, that I might Panca make thee un derstand the errour wherein thou art. Come here poor fool, if the gale of fortune hi therto so contrarie, doe turn in our favour swelling the sayles of our desire in such sort as we may securely and without any hindrance arrive at the Haven of any of those Islands, which I have promised unto thee; what would become of thee, if I conquering it, did make thee Lord thereof, seeing thou wouldest disable thy self in respect thou are not a Knight, nor desirest to be one, nor wouldest have valour or will to revenge thine injuries, or to defend thy Lordships? For thou must understand, that in the King domes and Provinces newly conquered, the minds of the Inhabitants are never so throughly appeased or weded to the affection of their new Lord, that it is not to be feared, that they will worke some noveltie to alter things again, and turn, as men say, afresh to trie Fortune. And it is therefore requisite that the new possessor have under standing to Govern, and valour to offend, and defend himself in any Adventure what soever. In this last that hath befaln us, quoth Sancho, I would I had • ad that under standing and valour of which you speak; but I vow unto you, by the faith of a poor man, that I am now fitter for plaisters then discourses. I pray you try whether you can arise, and we will help Rozinante, although he deserves it not; for he was the prin cipall cause of all these troubles; I would never have believed the like before of Rozi nante, whom, I ever held to be as chaste and peaceable a person as my self. In fine, they say well, that one must have a long time to come to the knowledge of bodies; and that there's nothing in this life secure. Who durst affirm that after those mightie blows which you gave to that unfortunate Knight Errant, would succeede so in poste, and as it were in your pursuit this so furious a tempest of staves, that hath discharged it on our shoulders? Thine Sancho, replyed Don-Quixote, are perhaps accustomed to bear the like showers, but mine nursed be tween [Sinabafa • ] Cottens and Hollands; it is most evident that they must feel the grief of this disgrace. And were it not that I imagine, (but why doe I say imagine?) I know certainly that all these incommodities are annex'd to the exercise of Armes, I would here dye for very wrath and displeasure. To this the Squire answered, Sir, seeing these disgraces are of the [Cosecha] essence of Knighthood, I pray you whether they succeed very often, or whether they have certain times limited wherein they befall? For me thinks within two Adventures more, we shall wholly remain dis •• abled for the third, if the Gods in mercy doe not succour us. Know friend Sancho, replyed Don-Quixote, That the life of Knights Errant is subject to a thousand dangers and misfortunes: And it is also as well in the next degree and power to make them Kings and Emperours, as experience hath shewn in sundry Knights, of whose Histories I have intire notice. And I could recount unto thee now (did the pain I suffer permit me) of some of them which have mounted to those high degrees which I have said, only by the valour of their Arm. And the very same men found them both before and after, in divers miseries and calamities. For the valorus Amadis of Gaule saw himself in the power of his mortall enemie Arcalaus the Inchanter, of whom the opinion runs infallible, that he gave unto him, being his prisoner, more then two hundred stripes with his horse bridle, after he had tyed him to a pillar in his base-Court. And there is moreover a secret Authour of no little credit, who sayes, That the Cavalier del Febo, being taken in a Gin, like unto a snatch, that slipt under his feet in a certain Castle, after the fall found himself in a deep Dungeon under the earth, bound hands and feet; and there they gave unto him a Glister of Snow-water and Sand, which brought him almost to the end of his life; And were it not that he was succoured in that great distresse, by a wise man his very great friend, it had gone ill with the poor Knight. So that I may very well passe among so many worthy persons; for the dangers and disgraces they suffered were greater then those which we doe now indure. For, Sancho, I would have thee to understand, That these wounds which are given to one, with those instruments that are in ones hand, by chance, doe not disgrace a man: And it is written in the Laws of single combat, in expresse terms, That if the Shoe-maker strike another with the Last which he hath in his hand, although it be certainly of wood; yet cannot it be said, That he who was stricken, had the Bastanado. I say this, to the end thou may'st not think, although we remain bruised in this last conflict, that therefore we be disgraced; for the armes which those men bore, and wherewithall they laboured us, were none other then their pack-staves, and as far as I can remember, never a one of them had a tuck, sword or dagger. They gave mee no leisure, answered Sancho, to looke to them so neerely, for scarce had I laid hand on my Trunchant, when they blist my shoulders with their Pines, in such sort as they wholly deprived mee of my sight and the force of my feet to gether, striking mee down on the place where I yet lie straught, and where the pain of the disgrace received by our Cudgeling doth not so much pinch mee, as the grief of the blowes, which shall remaine as deeply imprinted in my memorie as they doe in my back. For all this thou shalt understand brother Panca, replied Don-Quixote, that there is no remembrance which time will not end, nor grief which death will not consume. What greater misfortune quoth Sancho can there bee then that which only expecteth time and death to end and consume it? If this our disgrace were of that kinde which might bee cured by a payre or two of Playsters, it would not bee so evill; but I begin to per ceive that all the salves of an Hospitall will not suffice to bring them to any good terms. Leave off Sancho, and gather strength out of weakenesse, said Don-Quixote, for so will I likewise doe, and let us see how doth Rozinante; for mee thinks that the lest part of this mishap hath not faln to his lot: You ought not to marvell at that, quoth San cho, seeing hee is likewise a Knight errant; that whereat I wonder is that mine Asse re maines there without payment, where wee are come away without Ribs. Fortune leaves alwaies one dore open in disasters, quoth Don-Quixote, whereby to remedie them. I say it, because that little beast may supply Rozinanties want, by carrying of mee from hence unto some Castle, wherein I may bee cured of my wounds. Nor doe I hold this kinde of riding dishonourable; for I remember to have read that the good old Silenus tutor of the merry God of laughter, when hee entred into the Citie of the hundred gates, rode very fairly mounted on a goodly Asse. It is like, quoth Sancho, that hee rode as you say upon an Asse; but there is great difference betwixt riding and being cast athwart upon one like a Sack of rubbish. To this Don-Quixote answered, The wounds that are received in Battell, doe rather give honour then deprive men of it. Wherefore friend Panca doe not reply any more unto mee, but as I have said, arise as well as thou canst, and lay mee as thou pleasest upon thy beast, and let us depart from hence before the night overtake us in these Desarts. Yet I have heard you say, quoth Panca, that it was an ordinary custome of Knights errant to sleepe in Downes and De sarts the most of the yeere, and that so to doe they hold for very good hap. That is, said Don-Quixote, when they have none other shift, or when they are in Love; and this is so true as that there hath been a Knight that hath dwelt on a Rock, exposed to the Sunne, and the Shadow, and other annoyances of Heaven, for the space of two yeeres, without his Ladies knowledge, and Amadis was one of that kind, when calling him self Beltinebros hee dwelt in the Poore Rock • nor doe I know punctually eight yeeres or eight moneths, for I doe not remember the History well; let it suffice that there hee dwelt doing of penance, for some disgust which I know not, that his Lady Oriana did him. But leaving that apart Sancho, dispatch and away before some other disgrace happen, like that of Rozinante to the Asse. Even there lurks the Devill, quoth Sancho, and so breathing thirty sobs, and threescore sighes, and a hundred and twenty discon tents and execrations against him that had brought him there, hee arose, remayning bended in the midst of the way, like unto a Turkish bow, without being able to ad dresse himself; and notwithstanding all this difficulty, hee harnessed his Asse (who had been also somwhat distracted by the overmuch liberty of that day) and after he hoysted up Rozinante, who were he endowed with a tongue to complain, would certainly have borne his Lord and Sancho companie. In the end Sancho laid Don-Quixote on the Asse, and tied Rozinante unto him, and leading the Asse by the halter, travelled that way which hee deemed might conduct him soonest toward the high way. And fortune which guided his affaires from good to better, after hee had travelled a little league, discovered it unto him, neere unto which hee saw an Inne, which in despight of him, and for Don-Quixotes pleasure must needes bee a Castle, Sancho contended that it was an Inne, and his Lord that it was not; and their controversie indured so long, as they had leisure before they could decide it to arive at the lodging; into which Sancho with out farther verifying of the dispute, entred with all his loading.