CHAP. IV. Wherein are rehearsed the Discourses passed betweene Sancho Panca, and his Lord Don-Quixote, with other Adven tures worthy the recitall. S ANCHO arived to his Master all wanne and dismayed, in so much as hee was scarce able to spur on his beast. When Don-Quixote beheld him in that case, hee said to him, now doe I wholly perswade my selfe friend Sancho, that that Castle or Inne, is doubtlesse inchanted. For those which made pastime with thee in so cruell manner, what else could they bee but Spirits, or Peo ple of another world: which I doe the rather beleeve, because I saw, that whilst I stood at the Barrier of the yeard, beholding the acts of thy sad Tragedy; I was not in any waies able either to mount it, or alight from Rozinante, for as I say, I thinke they held mee then inchanted. For I vow to thee by mine honour, that if I could have either mounted or alighted, I would have taken such vengeance on those lewd and treacherous Caitiffs, as they should remember the jest for ever, though I had therefore adventured to transgresse the lawes of Knighthood. Which as I have oft times said unto thee, permitteth not any Knight to lay hands on one that is not Knighted, if it bee not in defence of his proper life and person, and that in case of great and urgent necessitie. So would I also have revenged my selfe, quoth Sancho, if I might, were they Knights or no Knights, but I could not; and yet I doe infallibly beleeve, that those which tooke their pleasure with mee, were neither ghosts nor inchanted men as you say, but men of flesh and bones as wee are, and all of them, as I heard them called whilest they tossed mee, had proper names, for one was termed P • t • r Martinez, and another Tenorio Herriander, and I heard also the In-keeper cal led Iohn Palameque the deafe, so that for your inabilitie of not leaping over the barri ers of the yeard, or alighting off your Horse was only inchantments in you. Whereby I doe cleerely collect thus much; That these Adventures which wee goe in search of, will bring us at last to so many disventures, as wee shall not bee able to know which is our right foote. And that which wee might doe best, according to my little under standing, were to returne us againe to our Village, now that it is reaping time, and looke to our goods, omitting to leape thus, as they say, out of the frying-pan into the fire. How little dost thou know Sancho, replied Don-Quixote, what appertaineth to Chi valry? Peace, and have patience, for a day will come wherein thou shalt see with thine owne eyes, how honourable it is to follow this exercise. If not, tell mee what greater content may there bee in this world, or what pleasure can equall that of winning a bat tell, and of triumphing over ones enemy? None without doubt. I think it bee so, quoth Sancho, although I doe not know it; only this I know, that since wee became Knights errant, or that you are one (for there is no reason why I should count my selfe in so honourable a number) wee never overcame any Battaile, if it was not that of the Bi • caine, and you came even out of the very same with half your care and Beaver lesse. And ever after that time wee have had nothing but cudgels, and more cudgels, blowes and more blowes. I carrying with mee besides of overplus, the t • ssing in the blanket, and that, by reason it was done to mee by inchanted Persons, I cannot bee re venged, and by consequence shall not know that true gust and delight that is taken by vanquishing mine Enemie, whereof you spake even now. That is it which grieves mee, as it should thee also Sancho, quoth Don-Quixote: But I will procure hereafter to get a Sword made with such art, that whosoever shall weare it, no kinde of inchantment shall hurt him. And perhaps fortune will present me the very same which belonged to Amadis, when he called himself, The Knight of the burning Sword, which was one of the best that ever Knight had in this world; for besides the virtue that I told, it did also cut like a Razor; and no Armour, were it ever so strong or inchanted, could stand before it. I am so fortunate, quoth Sancho, that when this befell, and that you found such a sword, it would only serve and be beneficial, and stand instead such as are dubed Knights, as doth your Balsamum, whilest the poor Squires are cram'd full with sorrows. Fear not that Sancho, quoth Don-Quixote; for fortune will deal with thee more liberally then so. In these discourses Don-Quixote and his Squire road, when Don-Quixote perceiving a great and thick dust to arise in the way, wherein he travelled, turning to Sancho said, this is (Sancho) the day, wherein shall be manifest the good which Fortune hath reser ved for me. This is the day, wherein the force of mine arme must be shewn as much as in any other whatsoever; and in it I will doe such fears, as shall for ever remain recorded in the books of fame: Doest thou see, Sancho, the dust which ariseth there? know that it is caused by a mighty Army, and sundry and innumerable Nations, which come martching there. If that be so, quoth Sancho, then must there be two Ar mies; for on this other side is raised as great a dust. Don-Quixote turned back to behold it, and seeing it was so indeed, he was marvellous glad, thinking that they were doubtlesly two Armies, which came to fight one with another, in the midest of that spacious Plain: For he had his fantasie ever replenished with these battails, inchant ments, successes, ravings, loves, and challenges, which are reheased in books of Knight hood: And all that ever he spoak, thought, or did, was addrest and applyed to the like things: And the dust which he had seen, was raised by two great Flocks of Sheep, that came through the same Field by two different wayes, and could not be discerned by reason of the dust, untill they were very neer. Don-Quixote did affirm that they were two Armies, with so very good earnest as Sancho believed it, and demanded of him, Sir what then shall we two doe? What shall we doe (quoth Don-Quixote) but assist the needfull and weeker side: For thou shalt know Sancho, that 〈◊〉 who comes to wards us is the great Emperor Alifamfaron, Lord of the great Island of Trapobana. The other who martcheth at our back, is his enemy, the King of the Garamantes, Pan topoline of the naked Arme, so called, because he still entereth in battail with his right Arme naked. I pray you good Sir, quoth Sancho, to tell me why these two Princes hate one another so much? They are enemies, replyed Don-Quixote, because that this Alifamfaron is a furious Pagan, and is enamoured of Pent • polin's Daughter, who is a very beautifull and gracious Princesse, and moreover a Christian; and her Father refuseth to give her to the Pagan King, untill first he abandon Mahomet's false Sect, and become one of his Religion. By my beard, quoth Sancho, Pentapolin hath reason, and I will help him all that I may. By doing so, quoth Don-Quixote, thou performe •• thy Duty; for it is not requisite that one be a Knight, to the end he may enter into such battails. I doe apprehend that my self, quoth Sancho, very well; But whe • e shall we leave this Asle in the mean time, that we may be 〈◊〉 to finde him again after the Conflict? for I think it is not the custome to enter into battail mounted on such a Beast. It is true, quoth Don-Quixote, that which thou mayest doe is, to leave him to his Adventures, and care not whether he be lost or found; for we shall have so many horses, after coming out of this Battail Victors, that very Rozinante himself is in danger to be changed for another. But be attentive; for I mean to describe unto thee the principall Knights of both the Armies. And to the end thou mayest the better see and note all things, let us retire our selves there to that little hillock, from whence both Armies may easily be discryed. They did so; and standing on the top of a hill, from whence they might have seen both the Flocks, which Don-Quixote called an Army, very well, if the clouds of dust had not hindred it and blinded their sight; yet notwithstanding our Knight seeing in conceit, that which really he did not see at all, began to say with a loud voyce: That Knight which thou • eest there with the yellow Armour, who bears in his Shield a Lyon crownd, crouching at a Damzells feet, is the valorous Laurcalio, Lord of the Silver Bridge: The other, whose Armes are powdred with flowers of gold, and beares in an Azure Field three Crowns of silver, is the dreaded Micocolembo, great Duke of Quirocia: The other limbed like a Gyant, that standeth at his right hand, is the undaunted Brandabarbaray of Boliche, Lord of the three Arabias; and comes Armed with a Serpents skin, bearing for his Shield, as is reported, one of the Gates of the Temple which Sampson at his death overthrew, to be revenged of his enemies. But turn thine eyes to this other side, and thou shalt see first of all, and in the Front of this other Army, the ever Victor and never Vanquished Timone • of Carcaiona, Prince of new Biskaye, who comes Armed with Armes parted into blew, green, white, and yellow quarters, and bears in his Shield in a Field of tawney, a Cat of gold, with a letter that sayes Miau, [Cat] which is the beginning of his Ladies name, which is as the report runs, the pee •• esse Miaulina, Daughter to Duke. Alfe niquen of Algarue. The other that burdens and oppresseth the back of that mighty [Alfana] Courser, whose Armour is as white as Snow, and also his Shield without any devise, is a new Knight of France, called Pierres Papin, Lord of the Barony of V •• ique. The other that beats his hors • sides with his Armed heels, and bears the the Armes of pure Az •• e, is the mighty Duke of Ner • ia Espar • asilard • of the Wood, who bears for his devise a [Esparraguera] Harrow, with a Motto that sayes, So trail • my Fortune. And thus he proceeded forward, naming may Knights of the one and the other Squadron, even as he had imagined them, and attributed to each one his Arms, his Colours, Impre •• e, and Mottoes, suddainly 〈◊〉 away by the imagination of his won derfull distraction; and without stammering he proceeded saying: This first Squadron conte • eth folk of many Nations, 〈…〉 are those which taste the sweet waters of famous 〈◊〉 ; the Mountainous men that tread the Mafilical fields; those that doe sift the most pure and rare gold 〈…〉 . Those that possessed the famous and delightfull banks of cleer 〈…〉 blood many and sundry waies the golden 〈◊〉 ; The Numides unsteadfast • n their pro mise; The Persian • famous for Archers; The • arthes and Medes tha • fight flying • The Arabs inconstant in their dwellings; The 〈◊〉 as cruell as white. The Aethiops of boared lips, and other infinite Na • ions whose faces I know and behold, although I have forgotten their denominations. In that other Army come those that taste the Christalins streams of the Olive-braring 〈◊〉 ; Those that dip and polish their faces with the liquor of the ever-rich and 〈◊〉 Tag ••• . Those that possesse the profitable fluent of divine Genile: Those that trample the 〈◊〉 fields so abundant in pasture: Those that recreate themselves in the 〈◊〉 fields, of 〈◊〉 : The rich Manch • gans crowned with ruddy 〈◊〉 of corne. Those ap parrelled with iron, the ancient reliques of the • spans • : Those th •• bathe them selves in Pesverga, renowned for the smoothnesse of his current: Those that feed their Flocks in the vast Fields of the wr • athing 〈◊〉 so celebrated for his hidden course. Those that tremble through the •• ld of the bushy Pirens, and the lofty [or white crested] Apenine • . Finally, all those that Europe in it self contrinet • . Good God I how many Provinces repeated he, at that time? and how many Na tions did he name? giving to every one of them, with 〈…〉 and brief nesse, their proper attributes, being swallo • d up and ingu •• ed in those things which he had read in his lying books! Sancho Pancia 〈◊〉 suspended at his speech, and spoak not a word, but only would now and then turn his head to see whether he could mark those Knights and Gyants which his Lord had named; and by reason he could not dis cover any, he said: Sir I give to the Devill any Man; Giant, or Knight, of all those you said, that appeareth; at least I cannot discern them: Perhaps all 〈◊〉 but inchant ment like that of the Ghosts of yester night. How? sayest thou so, quoth Don-Quixote? Doest not thou hear the Horses neigh, the Trumpets sound, and the noyse of the Drumms? I hear nothing else, said Sancho, but the great bleating of many Sheep. And so it was indeed; for by this time the two Flocks did approach them very neer. The fear that thou conceivest Sancho, quoth Don-Quixote, maketh thee that thou canst neither hear nor see aright; for one of the effects of fear, is to trouble the Senses, and make things appear otherwise then they are; and seeing thou fearest so much, retire thy self out of the way; for I alone am sufficient to give the Victory to that Part which I shall assist. And having ended his Speech, he se • spurs to Rozinante, and setting his Launce in the rest he flung down from the hillock like a thunder-bolt. Sancho cryed to him as lowd as he could, saying, Return good Sir • Don-Quixote; for I vow unto God, that all those which you goe to charge, are but Sheep and Muttons. Return I say; alas that ever: I was born! what madnesse is this? Look; for there is neither Giant, nor Knight, nor Cats, nor Armes, nor Shields parted, nor whole, nor pure Azures, nor Divellis •• What is it you doe, Wretch that I am? For all this Don-Quixote did not return, but rather road, saying with a loud voyce; On on Knights, all you that serve and martch under the Banners of the valorous Emperour Pentapolin of the naked Arme; follow me all of you, and you shall see how easily I will revenge him on his enemie Alifamfaron of Trapobana: And saying so, he entred into the midest of the Flock of Sheep, and began to Launce them with such courage and fury, as if he did in good earnest encounter his mortall enemies. The Sheep-heards that came with the flock, cryed to him to leave off, but seeing their words took no effect, they unlosed their slings and began to salute his pate with stones as great as ones fist. But Don-Quixote made no account of their stones, and did • ling up and down among the Sheep, saying, where art thou proud Alifamfaron, where art thou? come to mee, for I am but one Knight alone, who desire to prove my force with thee man to man, and deprive thee of thy life, in paine of the wrong thou doest to the valiant Pentapolin the Garamiante. At that instant a stone gave him such a blow on one of his sides, as did bury two of his 〈◊〉 in his body. Hee beholding himself so ill dight, did presently beleeve that hee was either sl • ine or sorely wounded; and remembring himself of his liquor, hee tooke out his oyle-pot, and set it to his mouth to drink, but ere he could take as much as hee thought was requisite to cure his hurts, there cometh another Almond which stroke him so full upon the hand and oyle-pot, as it broke it into peeces, and carried away with it besides, three or foure of his cheeke teeth, and did moreover bruise very sorely two of his fingers. Such was the first and the second blow, as the poore Knight was constrained to fall down off his horse. And the Sheepheards ariving did verily beleeve they had slaine him • and therefore ga thering their flock together with all speede, and carrying away their dead Mu • tons, which were more then seven, they went away without verifying the matter any further. Sancho remained all this while on the height, beholding his Masters follies, pulling the haires off his beard for very despaire, and cursed the houre and moment wherein hee first knew him; but seeing him overthrown to the earth, and the Sheepheards 〈◊〉 away, hee came downe to him, and found him in very bad taking, yet had • ee not quite lost the use of his senses, to whom hee said. Did not I 〈◊〉 you Sir Knight return, and told you that you went not to invade an Army of men, bu • • flock of Sheep. That theese the wise man who is mine. Adversary, quoth Don-Quixote, can counterfeit, and 〈◊〉 men to seem such, or vanish away as • ee pleaseth, for Sancho thou oughtest to know, that in is a very easie thing for those kinde of men, to make us seeme what they please, and this M • ligne that persecuteth mee, envying the glory which bee saw I was like to acquire in this Battail, hath converted the Enemies 〈…〉 into Sheepe: and if thou wilt not beleeve me Sancho, yet doe one thing for my 〈◊〉 , that thou mayest remove thine errour, and perceive the truth which I affirme, get up on thine As • e and follow them 〈◊〉 and softly aloo • , and thou shalt see that as soon as they are parted any distance from • ence, they will turn to their first form, and leaving to be sheep, will become men, as right and straight as I painted them to the at the first, but goe not now for I have need of thy help and assistance, draw neerer to me and see, how many cheek teeth and others I want; for mee thinks there is not one left in my mouth. With that Sancho approached so neer, that he laid almost his eyes on his Masters mouth, and it was just at the time that the Balsamum had now wrought his effect in Don-Quixote his stomack, and at the very season that Sancho went about to look into his mouth, he disgorged all that he had in his stomack, with as great violence as it had been shot out of a Musket, just in his compassive Squires beard. O holy Mother Mary, quoth Sancho! what is this that hath befaln me? the poor man is mortally wounded with out doubt; for he vomiteth up blood at his mouth. But looking a little neerer to it, he perceived in the colour and smell that it was not blood, but the Balsamum of his Masters oyl-bottle, whereat he instantly took such a loathing, that his stomack like wise turned, and he vomited out his very bowels almost, all in his Masters face: and so they both remained like Pearles. Soone after Sancho ranne to his Asse to take somewhat to clear himself, and to cure his Lord out of his wallet, which when he found wanting [ Having left it behind him in the Inn when he rann away and paid nothing for his lodging. ] he was ready to runn out of his wits: there he begann a new to curse himself, and made a firme resolution in minde, that he would leave his Master and turn to his Countrey again, although he were sure both to lose his wages, and the hope of Go vernment of the promised Island. By this Don-Quixote arose, and setting his left hand to his mouth, that the rest of his teeth might not fall out, he caught hold on the Raines of Rozinantes bridle with the other, who had never stir'd from his Master (such was his loyalty and good nature) he went towards his Squire, that leaned upon his Asse, with his hand under his cheek, like one pensative and malecontent. And Don-Quixote seeing of him in that guise, with such signes of sadnesse, said unto him: Know Sancho, that one man is not more then another, if he doe not more then another. All these storms that fall on us are arguments that the time will waxe calm very soon, and that things will have better successe hereafter; for it is not possible that either good or ill be dureable. And hence we may collect that our misfortunes having lasted so long, our fortune and weale must be likewise neer: And therefore thou oughtest not thus to afflict thy self for the disgraces that befall me, seeing no part of them fall to thy lot. How not, quoth Sancho? Was he whom they tossed yester day in the Coverlet by fortune, any other mans sonne then my Fathers? and the Wallet that I want to day, with all my Pro vision, was it any others then mine own? What doest thou want thy Wallet Sancho, quoth Don-Quixote? I that I doe, quoth hee. In that manner replyed Don-Quixote, We have nothing left us to eat to day. That would be so, quoth Sancho, if we could not finde among these Fields the hearbs which I have heard you say you know, wherewithall such unluckie Knights Errant as you are wont to supply like needs. For all that, quoth Don-Quixote, I would rather have now a quarter of a loaf, or a cake and two Pilchers heads, then all the hearbs that Diascoridles describeth, although they came glosed by Doctor Laguna himself: But yet for all that, get upon thy beast, Sancho the good, and follow me; for God, who is the provider for all Creatures, will not fail us; and principally seeing we doe a work so greatly to his service as we doe, seeing he doth not abandon the little Flies of the Air, nor the Wormlings of the Earth, nor the Spawnlings of the Water: And he is so mercifull that he maketh his Sunne shine on the good and the evill, and Rains on sinners and just men. You were much fitter, quoth Sancho, to be a Preacher, then a Knight Errant. Knights Errant knew, and ought to know somewhat of all things, quoth Don-Quixote: For there hath been a Knight Errant, in times past, who would make a Sermon or discourse in the midest of a Camp royall, with as good grace as if he were graduated in the University of Paris: by which we may gather, that the Launce never dulled the Pen; nor the Pen the Launce. Well then, quoth Sancho, let it be as you have said, and let us depart hence, and procure to finde a lodging for this night, where, I pray God, may be no Coverlets, and Tossors, nor Spirits, nor inchanted Moors; for if there be, I'le bestow the Flock and the Book on the Devill. Demand that of God Sonne Sancho, quoth Don-Quixote, and lead me where thou pleasest; for I will leave the election of our lodging to thy choyse for this time: yet I pray thee give me thy hand, and feel how many cheek teeth or others, I want in this right side of the upper jaw; for there I feel most pain. Sancho put in his finger, and whilest he felt him, demanded; how many cheek teeth were you accustomed to have on this side? Four, quoth he, besides the hindermost; all of them very whole and sound. See well what you say Sir, quoth Sancho. I say four, quoth Don-Quixote, if they were not five; for I never in my life drew, or lost any tooth; nor hath any faln or been worm-eaten, or mard by any rhume. Well then, quoth Sancho, you have in this nether part but two cheek teeth and a half; and in the upper neither a half, nor any; for all there is as plain as the palm of my hand. Unfortunate I (quoth Don-Quixote, hearing the sorrowfull news that his Squire told unto him) for I had rather lose one of my armes, so it were not that of my Sword: For Sancho, thou must wit, that a mouth without cheek-teeth, is like a Mill without a Mill-stone; and a tooth is much more to be esteemed then a Diamond. But wee which professe the rigorous Lawes of Armes, are subject to all these disa sters, wherefore mount gentle friend and give the way, for I will follow thee what pace thou pleasest, Sancho obeyed, and rode the way where hee thought hee might find lodging, without leaving the high way, which was there very much beaten. And going thus by little and little (for Don-Quixote his paine of his jawes did not suffer him rest, or make overmuch haste) Sancho to entertain him and divert his thought by saying some things, began to aboord him in the forme wee meane to rehearse in the Chapter ensuing.