CHAP. XXI. Wherein the Canon prosecutes his Discourse upon Books of Chivalrie, and many other things worthy of his wit. S IR, you say very true, quoth the Curate; and for this very reason are they which have hitherto invented such Books the more wor thy of reprehension, because they neither heeded the good dis course, the art, nor the rules, by which they might have guided themselves, and by that means have grown as famous for their Prose as bee the two Princes of the Greek and Latine Poetrie for their Verse. I have for my part, quoth the Canon, at least at tempted to write a Book of Chivalrie, observing therein all the points by me mentioned: and in truth I have written above a hundred sheets thereof; and to the end that I might trie whether they were correspondent to my estimation, I did communicate them both with certain skillfull and wise men that are marvellously affected to that subject, and with some ignorant persons that only delight to hear fa natic? •• • nventions; and I have found in them all a great approbation of my labours; yet would I not for all that prosecute the work, as well because it seemed unfit for my Profession, as also because I finde the number of the ignorant to excede that of the ju dicious: And though more good come to a man by the praise of a few wise men, then hurt by the scoffs of a number of fools, yet would I not willingly subject my self to the confused judgement of the senselesse vulgar, who commonly give themselves most un to the reading of such Books. But that which most of all rid my hands, yea, and my memorie, of all desire to end it, was this argument, drawn from our modern Comedies, and thus made to my self: If those (as well the Fictions, as Historicall ones) are all or the most part of them notorious Fopperies, and things without either head or foot, and yet are by the vulgar heard with such delight, and held and approved for good: and both the Authours that compose them, and Actors that represent them say, that they must bee such as they bee for to please the Peoples humors, and not more con formable to reason or truth, and that, because those wherein Decorum is observed, and the fable followed according to the rules of Art, serve onely for three or four discreete men ( If so many may be found at a Play ) which doe attend unto them, and all the rest of the Auditors remaine fasting, by reason they cannot conceive the arti ficiall contexture thereof; therefore is it better for them to gaine good money and meanes by many, then bare opinion or applause by a few. The very same would bee the end of my Booke, after I had used all possible industrie to ob serve the aforesaid precept; and I should remaine only for a neede, and as the Taylour that dwels in a corner, without trade or estimation. And although I have sundry times indeavoured to perswade the Players, that their opinion was erronious herein, and that they would attract more people, and acquire greater fame by acting artificiall Comedies, then those irregular, and methodicall Playes then used: yet are they so wedded to their opinion, as no reason can woo, nor demonstration winn them from it. I remember, how dealing upon a day with one of those obstinate fellowes, I said unto him, Doe not you remember, how a few yeers agoe were represented in Spaine three Tragedies, written by a famous Poet of our Kingdome, which were such as delighted, yea and amazed all the auditors, as well the learned as the simple, the exact as the slight ones; and that the Players got more by those three alone, then by thirtie of the best that were penned, or acted since that time? You mean, without question, quoth the Actor answering me, Issabella, Filis, and Alexandra. The very same, quoth I; and note whether in them were not right ly observed all the rules and precepts of Art: and yet thereby they neither wanted any part of their dignitie, nor the approbation of all the world. So that I inferr the fault not to be in the vulgar that covets idle toyes, but rather in those which know not how to penn or act any other thing: for no such fond stuffe was in the Comedie of Ingratitude revenged, nor found in Numantia, nor perceived in that of the Amo rous Merchant, and much lesse in the Favourable enemy, nor in some others made by judicious Poets, which both redounded to their infinite fame and renowne, and yeel ded unto these Actors aboundant gain. To these I added other reasons, wherewith I left him, in mine opinion, somewhat perplexed, but not satisfied, or desirous to for goe his erronious opinion. Truely, Master Canon, quoth the Curate, you have touched a matter that hath rowsed an ancient rancour and heart-burning of mine against the Comedies now in re quest; the which is equall to the grudge that I beare to Bookes of Knight-hood. For seeing the Comedie, as Tully affirms, ought to be a mirrour of mans life, a pattern of manners, and an Image of truth: Those that are now exhibited, are mirrours of vanity, patterns of folly, and Images of voluptuousnesse. For what greater absurditie can be in such a subject; then to see a Child come out, in the first Scene, of the first Act, in his swadling Clouts, and issue in the second already grown a man, yea, a bearded man? And what greater vanity, then to present before us a valiant old man, and a yong co ward? A Lay man become a Divine? a Page a Councellor? a King a Scoundrell? and a Princesse a Scowre-kettle? What should I say, of the little care had of the due observation of time, for the succeeding of that they represent, other then that I my selfe have seene Comedies, whose first Act began in Europe, the second in Asia, and the third ended in Africa: and truely if there had beene a fourth, it would que stionlesse have finished in America, and by consequence wee should have seene a round walk about the four parts of the World. And fayning an exployt performed in the time of King Pepin, or of Charlemaine, they make the principall Actours thereof, eyther Heraclius the Emperour that entred into Hierusalem bearing of the holy Crosse; or Godfrey of Bulloin that recovered the Holy-land; Many yeeres, yea and ages having occurred between the times of the one and the other: yea and the Come die being grounded on a fiction, to attribute unto it the verities of a History, and mingle it and patch it up, with peeces of others, having relation to different persons and times; and this with no plausible invention, or draught resembling the truth, but rather with palpable, grosse, and inexcusable errours. And which is worse, some guls are found to affirme, that all perfection consists herein, and that they are too dainty that look for any other. Now, if we would passe further, to examine the divine Comedies that treat of God, or the lives of Saints, what a multitude of false miracles do the composers de vise? what a bulke of matters Apocryphall, and ill-understood? attributing to one Saint the miracles done by another? yea and in humane Comedies they presume to doe miracles (without farther respect, or consideration, but that such a miracle or shew, as they term it, would doe well in such a place) to the end that the ignorant folk may admire them, and come the more willingly to them: all which doth pre judice truth, discredit histories, and turn to the disgrace of our Spanish wits: for stran gers, which doe with much punctualitie observe the method of Comedies, hold us to be rude and ignorant, when they see such follies, and absurdities escape us: and it will be no sufficient excuse for this errour, to say, that the principall end of well-governed Commonwealths, in the permitting of comedies, is onely to entertaine the commu naltie with some honest pastime, and thereby divert the exorbitant and vicious humors which idlenesse is wont to ingender: and seeing that this end is attained to by what soever Comedies good or bad, it were to no purpose to appoint any Laws or limits unto them, or to tye the Composers to frame, or Actors to play them, as they should doe: For hereunto I answer, that this end would without all comparison bee com passed better by good Comedies then by evill ones: for the Auditour having heard an artificall and well-ordered Comedie, would come away delighted with the Jests and instructed by the truths thereof, wondring at the successes, grow discreeter by the reasons, warned by the deceits, become wise by others example, incensed against vice, and enamoured of virtue; all which affects a good Comedie should stirr up in the hearers minde, were hee never so grosse or clownish: And it is of all impossibilities the most impossible, that a Comedie consisting of all these parts should not entertain delight, satisfie and content the minde much more then another that should bee de fective in any of them, as most of our now-a-day Comedies bee. Nor are the Poets that Pen them chiefly to bee blamed for this abuse; for some of them know very well where the errour lurks, and know also as well how to redresse it. But because that Co medies are become a vendible Merchandize, they affirm, and therein tell the plain truth, that the Players would not buy them if they were of any other then the accustomed kinde; and therefore the Poet indeavors to accommodate himself to the humour of the Player, who is to pay him for his labour: And that this is the truth, may bee ga thered by an infinite number of Comedies, which a most happie wit of this Kingdome hath composed with such delicacie, so many good Jests, so elegant a Verse, so excellent Reasons, so grave Sentences; and finally, with so much eloquence and such a loftinesse of stile, as hee hath filled the World with his fame; and yet by reason that hee was forced to accommodate himself to the Actors, all of them have not arrived to the height: of perfection which Art requires. Others there are, that write without any judgement, and with so little heed of what they doe, as after their works have been once acted, the Players are constrained to run away and hide themselves, fearing to bee punished, as often they have been for acting things obnoxious to the Prince, or scandalous to some Families. All which inconveniences might bee redressed if there were some understanding and discreet person ordained at the Court to examine all Comedies before they were Acted, and that not only such as were played at the Court it self, but also all others that were to bee Acted throughout Spain, without whose allowance, under his hand and seal, the Magistrate of no Town should permit any Comedie to bee played: By which means the Players would diligently send their Playes to the Court, and might boldly after wards Act them, and the composers would with more care and studie examine their Labours, knowing that they should passe the strict censure of him that could understand them: And by this means would good Comedies bee written, and the thing intended by them most easily attained to, viz. entertainment of the People, the good opinion of Spanish wits, the profit and security of the Players, and the saving of the care that is now imployed in chastising their rashnesse. And if the same charge were given to this man, or to some other, to examine the Books of Knight-hood which should bee made hereafter, some of them doubtlesse would bee put forth, adorned with that perfection whereof you spoke but now, inriching our language with the pleasing and precious treasure of eloquence, and being an occasion that the old Books would become obscure in the bright presence of those new ones published, for the honest recreation, not only of the idler sort, but also of those that have more serious occupations: For it is not possible for the bow to continue still bent; nor can our humane and fraile nature su stain it self long without some help of lawfull recreation. The Canon and Curate had arrived to this point of their discourse, when the Barber spurring on and overtaking them, said to the Curate, This is the place I lately told you was fit to passe over the heat of the day in, while the Oxen baited amidest the fresh and aboundant Pastures. It likes me very well, quoth the Curate: and tel ling the Canon what hee meant to doe, hee also was pleased to remain with them, as well invited by the prospect of a beautifull Valley which offered it self to their view, as also to injoy the Curates conversation, towards whom hee began to bear a marvel lous affection: And lastly, with the desires hee had to bee thorowly acquainted with Don-Quixotes Adventures, therefore hee gave order to some of his men, that they should ride to the Inne, which was hard by, and bring from thence what meat they could finde, sufficient to satisfie them all, because hee meant likewise to passe the hot time of the day in that place. To which one of his men did answer, that their sump ture Mule was by that time, as hee thought, in the Inne, so copiously furnished with provision of meat, that, as hee supposed, they needed not buy any thing there but barley for their Mules. If it be so, quoth the Canon, let our Mules be carried thither, and the sumpture one returned hither. Whilest this passed, Sancho being free from the continuall presence of the Curate and Barber, whom hee held as suspected persons, thought it a fit time to speak with his Lord; and therefore drew neer to the Cage wherein he sate, and said to him in this manner: Sir, that I may discharge my conscience, I will reveal unto you all that hath past in this affair of your inchantment; which briefly is, that those two which ride with their faces covered are the Curate of our Village and the Barber, and as I ima gine they both are the Plotters of this your kinde of carrying away, for meer emulation that they see you surpasse them both in atchieving of famous Acts: This truth being presupposed, it follows that you are not Inchanted, but beguiled and made a fool: For the proof whereof I will but demand of you one question; and if you doe answer me according to my expectation, as I beleeve you will, you shall feel the deceit with your own hands and perceive how you are not inchanted, but rather have your wits turned upside-down. Sonne Sancho demand what thou wilt, quoth Don-Quixote, and I will satisfie thee, and answer directly to thy desire: But as touching thy averment, that those which goe along with us, be the Curate and Barber, our Gossips, and old acquaintance; it may well befall that they seem to be such; but that they are so really, and in effect, I would not have thee beleeve in any manner: For that which thou art to believe and shouldest understand in this matter is, that if they bee like those our friends, as thou sayest, it must needs bee that those which have inchanted me, have assumed their semblance and like nesse (for it is an easie thing for Magicians to put on any shape they please) thereby to give thee occasion to think that which thou doest, to drive thee into such a Labyrinth of imaginations as thou shalt not afterwards know how to sally out, although thou hadst the assistance of Theseus clew; and withall to make me waver in mine under standing, to the end I may not conjecture from whence this charme is derived unto me: for if thou on the one side doest affirm, that the Barber and Curate of our Village doe accompanie me; and I on the other side finde my self incaged, and am so assured of mine own force, that no humane strength, bee it not supernaturall, is able thus to incage me; what wouldest thou have me to say or think, but that the manner of mine inchantment exceeds as many as ever I read throughout all the Histories intreating of Knights Errant, which have beene inchanted? Wherefore thou maiest very well appease, and quiet thy selfe in that point of beleeving them to be those thou sayest, for they are those, as much as I am a Turke: and as touching thy desire to de mand somewhat of me, speake, for I will answer thee, although, thou puttest mee questions untill to morrow morning. Our Lady assist me, quoth Sancho (as loud as he could) and is it possible that you are so brain-sicke, and hard-headed, as you cannot perceive that I affirme the very pure truth, and that malice hath a greater stroke in this your disgrace and imployment then any inchantments? But seeing it is so, I will proove evidently that you are not in chanted: if not, tell me, as God shall deliver you out of this tempest, and as you shall see your self, when you least think of it, in my Lady Dulcinea's armes. Make an end of conjuring me, said Don-Quixote, and aske me what question thou wilt; for I have al ready told thee, that I will answer with all punctuality. That is it I demand, quoth Sancho; and the thing I would know, is, that you tell me without adding or diminish ing ought, but with all truth used or looked for of all those which professe the exercise of armes as you doe, under the title of Knights Errants. I say, answered Don-Quixote, that I will not lie a jot: make therefore a beginning, or an end of these demands, for in good sooth thou dost weary me with so many salutations, petitions and preventions. Sancho replyed, I say that I am secure of the bounty aud truth of my Lord: and there fore, because it makes to the purpose in our affaire, I doe with all respect demand, whether your Worship, since your incagement, and as you imagine, inchantment in that coope, have not had a desire to make greater or lesse water, as men are wont to say? I doe not understand, good Sancho, that phrase of making water: and therefore explicate thy selfe, if thou wouldest have me to answer thee directly. And is it pos sible, replied he, that your Worship understands not what it is to make great or little waters? then goe to some schoole, and learn it of the boyes, and know that I would say, Have you had a desire to doe that which cannot be undone? O now, now, I un derstand thee, Sancho. Yes, very many times • yea and even now I have: wherefore, I pray thee, deliver me from the extremity thereof; for I promise thee, I am not alto gether so clean as I would be.