Don Quixote [Trans. by Edith Grossman] (23 page)

“Señor, 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 Alifanfarón, lord of the great Ínsula Trapobane;
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the other, marching behind us, belongs to his enemy, the king of the Garamantes, Pentapolín 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 Alifanfarón, a fierce pagan, is in love with Pentapolín’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, “Pentapolín 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 fight’s over? Because I don’t believe that riding into battle on this kind of animal has been the custom up to now.”

“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,
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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 Brandabarbarán 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 Alfeñiquén 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 Papín, 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,
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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.”
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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;
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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:

“Señor, 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, Señor 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 Pentapolín of the Tucked-up Sleeve, follow me, all of you, and you will see how easily I give you revenge upon your enemy Alifanfarón 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 Alifanfarón? 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 Pentapolín Garamanta.”

At that moment, a small round pebble
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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 him:

“Didn’t I tell you, Señor 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.”

Sancho came so close that his eyes were almost in his master’s mouth; by this time the balm had taken effect in Don Quixote’s stomach, and just as Sancho looked into his mouth, he threw up, more vigorously than if he were firing a musket, everything he had inside, and all of it hit the compassionate squire in the face.

“Mother of God!” said Sancho. “What’s happened? Surely this poor sinner is mortally wounded, for he’s vomiting blood from his mouth.”

But looking a little more closely, he realized by the color, taste, and smell that it was not blood but the balm from the cruet, which he had seen him drink, and he was so disgusted by this that his stomach turned over and he vomited his innards all over his master, and the two of them were left as splendid as pearls. Sancho went to his donkey to find something in the saddlebags with which to clean himself and heal his master, and when he did not see the saddlebags he almost lost his mind. He cursed his fate again and resolved in his heart to leave his master and return home even if he lost his wages for the time he had worked, along with his hopes for the governorship of the promised ínsula.

Then Don Quixote rose to his feet, placed his left hand over his mouth so that no more teeth would fall out, and grasped Rocinante’s reins with the other, for the horse had not moved from his master’s side—that is how loyal and well-disposed he was—and walked to where
his squire was standing, leaning against his donkey and resting his cheek in his hand, in the manner of a man deep in thought. And seeing him like this, showing signs of so much sadness, Don Quixote said:

“You should know, Sancho, that a man is not worth more than any other if he does not do more than any other. All these squalls to which we have been subjected are signs that the weather will soon improve and things will go well for us, because it is not possible for the bad or the good to endure forever; from this it follows that since the bad has lasted so long a time, the good is close at hand. Therefore you must not grieve for the misfortunes that befall me, for you have no part in them.”

“What do you mean, no part?” responded Sancho. “By some chance was the man tossed in a blanket yesterday anybody but my father’s son? And the saddlebags that are missing today, along with all my valuable goods, do they belong to anybody else but me?”

“Did you say that the saddlebags are missing, Sancho?” said Don Quixote.

“Yes, they’re missing,” responded Sancho.

“Then we have nothing to eat today,” replied Don Quixote.

“That would be true,” responded Sancho, “if these fields didn’t have the wild plants your grace says you know about, the ones that unfortunate knights errant such as your grace use to make up for shortages like this one.”

“Despite that,” Don Quixote responded, “now I would rather have a ration of bread or a large loaf and a couple of sardine heads than all the plants described by Dioscorides or commented on by Dr. Laguna.
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But be that as it may, mount your donkey, my good Sancho, and follow me, for God, who provides all things, will not fail us, especially since we are so much in His service, when He does not fail the gnats in the air, or the grubs in the earth, or the tadpoles in the water; He is so merciful that He makes His sun to shine on the good and the evil and His rain to fall on the unjust and the just.”