Of The Second Sally Of Our Worthy Knight Don Quixote Of La Mancha

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At this instant Don Quixote began shouting out, "Here, here, valiant knights! here is need for you to put forth the might of your strong arms, for they of the Court are gaining the mastery in the tourney!" Called away by this noise and outcry, they proceeded no farther with the scrutiny of the remaining books, and so it is thought that "The Carolea," "The Lion of Spain," and "The Deeds of the Emperor," written by Don Luis de Avila, went to the fire unseen and unheard; for no doubt they were among those that remained, and perhaps if the curate had seen them they would not have undergone so severe a sentence.

When they reached Don Quixote he was already out of bed, and was still shouting and raving, and slashing and cutting all round, as wide awake as if he had never slept.

They closed with him and by force got him back to bed, and when he had become a little calm, addressing the curate, he said to him, "Of a truth, Senor Archbishop Turpin, it is a great disgrace for us who call ourselves the Twelve Peers, so carelessly to allow the knights of the Court to gain the victory in this tourney, we the adventurers having carried off the honour on the three former days."

"Hush, gossip," said the curate; "please God, the luck may turn, and what is lost to-day may be won to-morrow; for the present let your worship have a care of your health, for it seems to me that you are over-fatigued, if not badly wounded."

"Wounded no," said Don Quixote, "but bruised and battered no doubt, for that bastard Don Roland has cudgelled me with the trunk of an oak tree, and all for envy, because he sees that I alone rival him in his achievements. But I should not call myself Reinaldos of Montalvan did he not pay me for it in spite of all his enchantments as soon as I rise from this bed. For the present let them bring me something to eat, for that, I feel, is what will be more to my purpose, and leave it to me to avenge myself."

They did as he wished; they gave him something to eat, and once more he fell asleep, leaving them marvelling at his madness.

That night the housekeeper burned to ashes all the books that were in the yard and in the whole house; and some must have been consumed that deserved preservation in everlasting archives, but their fate and the laziness of the examiner did not permit it, and so in them was verified the proverb that the innocent suffer for the guilty.

One of the remedies which the curate and the barber immediately applied to their friend's disorder was to wall up and plaster the room where the books were, so that when he got up he should not find them (possibly the cause being removed the effect might cease), and they might say that a magician had carried them off, room and all; and this was done with all despatch. Two days later Don Quixote got up, and the first thing he did was to go and look at his books, and not finding the room where he had left it, he wandered from side to side looking for it. He came to the place where the door used to be, and tried it with his hands, and turned and twisted his eyes in every direction without saying a word; but after a good while he asked his housekeeper whereabouts was the room that held his books.

The housekeeper, who had been already well instructed in what she was to answer, said, "What room or what nothing is it that your worship is looking for? There are neither room nor books in this house now, for the devil himself has carried all away."

"It was not the devil," said the niece, "but a magician who came on a cloud one night after the day your worship left this, and dismounting from a serpent that he rode he entered the room, and what he did there I know not, but after a little while he made off, flying through the roof, and left the house full of smoke; and when we went to see what he had done we saw neither book nor room: but we remember very well, the housekeeper and I, that on leaving, the old villain said in a loud voice that, for a private grudge he owed the owner of the books and the room, he had done mischief in that house that would be discovered by-and-by: he said too that his name was the Sage Munaton."

"He must have said Friston," said Don Quixote.

"I don't know whether he called himself Friston or Friton," said the housekeeper, "I only know that his name ended with 'ton.'"

"So it does," said Don Quixote, "and he is a sage magician, a great enemy of mine, who has a spite against me because he knows by his arts and lore that in process of time I am to engage in single combat with a knight whom he befriends and that I am to conquer, and he will be unable to prevent it; and for this reason he endeavours to do me all the ill turns that he can; but I promise him it will be hard for him to oppose or avoid what is decreed by Heaven."

"Who doubts that?" said the niece; "but, uncle, who mixes you up in these quarrels? Would it not be better to remain at peace in your own house instead of roaming the world looking for better bread than ever came of wheat, never reflecting that many go for wool and come back shorn?"

"Oh, niece of mine," replied Don Quixote, "how much astray art thou in thy reckoning: ere they shear me I shall have plucked away and stripped off the beards of all who dare to touch only the tip of a hair of mine."

The two were unwilling to make any further answer, as they saw that his anger was kindling.

In short, then, he remained at home fifteen days very quietly without showing any signs of a desire to take up with his former delusions, and during this time he held lively discussions with his two gossips, the curate and the barber, on the point he maintained, that knights-errant were what the world stood most in need of, and that in him was to be accomplished the revival of knight-errantry. The curate sometimes contradicted him, sometimes agreed with him, for if he had not observed this precaution he would have been unable to bring him to reason.

Meanwhile Don Quixote worked upon a farm labourer, a neighbour of his, an honest man (if indeed that title can be given to him who is poor), but with very little wit in his pate. In a word, he so talked him over, and with such persuasions and promises, that the poor clown made up his mind to sally forth with him and serve him as esquire. Don Quixote, among other things, told him he ought to be ready to go with him gladly, because any moment an adventure might occur that might win an island in the twinkling of an eye and leave him governor of it. On these and the like promises Sancho Panza (for so the labourer was called) left wife and children, and engaged himself as esquire to his neighbour. Don Quixote next set about getting some money; and selling one thing and pawning another, and making a bad bargain in every case, he got together a fair sum. He provided himself with a buckler, which he begged as a loan from a friend, and, restoring his battered helmet as best he could, he warned his squire Sancho of the day and hour he meant to set out, that he might provide himself with what he thought most needful. Above all, he charged him to take alforjas with him. The other said he would, and that he meant to take also a very good ass he had, as he was not much given to going on foot. About the ass, Don Quixote hesitated a little, trying whether he could call to mind any knight-errant taking with him an esquire mounted on ass-back, but no instance occurred to his memory. For all that, however, he determined to take him, intending to furnish him with a more honourable mount when a chance of it presented itself, by appropriating the horse of the first discourteous knight he encountered. Himself he provided with shirts and such other things as he could, according to the advice the host had given him; all which being done, without taking leave, Sancho Panza of his wife and children, or Don Quixote of his housekeeper and niece, they sallied forth unseen by anybody from the village one night, and made such good way in the course of it that by daylight they held themselves safe from discovery, even should search be made for them.

Sancho rode on his ass like a patriarch, with his alforjas and bota, and longing to see himself soon governor of the island his master had promised him. Don Quixote decided upon taking the same route and road he had taken on his first journey, that over the Campo de Montiel, which he travelled with less discomfort than on the last occasion, for, as it was early morning and the rays of the sun fell on them obliquely, the heat did not distress them.

And now said Sancho Panza to his master, "Your worship will take care, Senor Knight-errant, not to forget about the island you have promised me, for be it ever so big I'll be equal to governing it."

To which Don Quixote replied, "Thou must know, friend Sancho Panza, that it was a practice very much in vogue with the knights-errant of old to make their squires governors of the islands or kingdoms they won, and I am determined that there shall be no failure on my part in so liberal a custom; on the contrary, I mean to improve upon it, for they sometimes, and perhaps most frequently, waited until their squires were old, and then when they had had enough of service and hard days and worse nights, they gave them some title or other, of count, or at the most marquis, of some valley or province more or less; but if thou livest and I live, it may well be that before six days are over, I may have won some kingdom that has others dependent upon it, which will be just the thing to enable thee to be crowned king of one of them. Nor needst thou count this wonderful, for things and chances fall to the lot of such knights in ways so unexampled and unexpected that I might easily give thee even more than I promise thee."

"In that case," said Sancho Panza, "if I should become a king by one of those miracles your worship speaks of, even Juana Gutierrez, my old woman, would come to be queen and my children infantes."

"Well, who doubts it?" said Don Quixote.

"I doubt it," replied Sancho Panza, "because for my part I am persuaded that though God should shower down kingdoms upon earth, not one of them would fit the head of Mari Gutierrez. Let me tell you, senor, she is not worth two maravedis for a queen; countess will fit her better, and that only with God's help."

"Leave it to God, Sancho," returned Don Quixote, "for he will give her what suits her best; but do not undervalue thyself so much as to come to be content with anything less than being governor of a province."

"I will not, senor," answered Sancho, "specially as I have a man of such quality for a master in your worship, who will know how to give me all that will be suitable for me and that I can bear."

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Don Quixote
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De la segunda salida de nuestro buen caballero don Quijote de la Mancha

Estando en esto, comenzó a dar voces don Quijote, diciendo:

-Aquí, aquí, valerosos caballeros; aquí es menester mostrar la fuerza de vuestros valerosos brazos, que los cortesanos llevan lo mejor del torneo.

Por acudir a este ruido y estruendo, no se pas√≥ adelante con el escrutinio de los dem√°s libros que quedaban; y as√≠, se cree que fueron al fuego, sin ser vistos ni o√≠dos, La Carolea y Le√≥n de Espa√Īa, con Los Hechos del Emperador, compuestos por don Luis de √Āvila, que, sin duda, deb√≠an de estar entre los que quedaban; y quiz√°, si el cura los viera, no pasaran por tan rigurosa sentencia.

Cuando llegaron a don Quijote, ya él estaba levantado de la cama, y proseguía en sus voces y en sus desatinos, dando cuchilladas y reveses a todas partes, estando tan despierto como si nunca hubiera dormido. Abrazáronse con él, y por fuerza le volvieron al lecho; y, después que hubo sosegado un poco, volviéndose a hablar con el cura, le dijo:

-Por cierto, se√Īor arzobispo Turp√≠n, que es gran mengua de los que nos llamamos doce Pares dejar, tan sin m√°s ni m√°s, llevar la vitoria deste torneo a los caballeros cortesanos, habiendo nosotros los aventureros ganado el prez en los tres d√≠as antecedentes.

-Calle vuestra merced, se√Īor compadre -dijo el cura-, que Dios ser√° servido que la suerte se mude, y que lo que hoy se pierde se gane ma√Īana; y atienda vuestra merced a su salud por agora, que me parece que debe de estar demasiadamente cansado, si ya no es que est√° malferido.

-Ferido no -dijo don Quijote-, pero molido y quebrantado, no hay duda en ello; porque aquel bastardo de don Roldán me ha molido a palos con el tronco de una encina, y todo de envidia, porque ve que yo solo soy el opuesto de sus valentías. Mas no me llamaría yo Reinaldos de Montalbán si, en levantándome deste lecho, no me lo pagare, a pesar de todos sus encantamentos; y, por agora, tráiganme de yantar, que sé que es lo que más me hará al caso, y quédese lo del vengarme a mi cargo.

Hiciéronlo ansí: diéronle de comer, y quedóse otra vez dormido, y ellos, admirados de su locura.

Aquella noche quem√≥ y abras√≥ el ama cuantos libros hab√≠a en el corral y en toda la casa, y tales debieron de arder que merec√≠an guardarse en perpetuos archivos; mas no lo permiti√≥ su suerte y la pereza del escruti√Īador; y as√≠, se cumpli√≥ el refr√°n en ellos de que pagan a las veces justos por pecadores.

Uno de los remedios que el cura y el barbero dieron, por entonces, para el mal de su amigo, fue que le murasen y tapiasen el aposento de los libros, porque cuando se levantase no los hallase -quizá quitando la causa, cesaría el efeto-, y que dijesen que un encantador se los había llevado, y el aposento y todo; y así fue hecho con mucha presteza. De allí a dos días se levantó don Quijote, y lo primero que hizo fue ir a ver sus libros; y, como no hallaba el aposento donde le había dejado, andaba de una en otra parte buscándole. Llegaba adonde solía tener la puerta, y tentábala con las manos, y volvía y revolvía los ojos por todo, sin decir palabra; pero, al cabo de una buena pieza, preguntó a su ama que hacia qué parte estaba el aposento de sus libros. El ama, que ya estaba bien advertida de lo que había de responder, le dijo:

-¬ŅQu√© aposento, o qu√© nada, busca vuestra merced? Ya no hay aposento ni libros en esta casa, porque todo se lo llev√≥ el mesmo diablo.

-No era diablo -replic√≥ la sobrina-, sino un encantador que vino sobre una nube una noche, despu√©s del d√≠a que vuestra merced de aqu√≠ se parti√≥, y, ape√°ndose de una sierpe en que ven√≠a caballero, entr√≥ en el aposento, y no s√© lo que se hizo dentro, que a cabo de poca pieza sali√≥ volando por el tejado, y dej√≥ la casa llena de humo; y, cuando acordamos a mirar lo que dejaba hecho, no vimos libro ni aposento alguno; s√≥lo se nos acuerda muy bien a m√≠ y al ama que, al tiempo del partirse aquel mal viejo, dijo en altas voces que, por enemistad secreta que ten√≠a al due√Īo de aquellos libros y aposento, dejaba hecho el da√Īo en aquella casa que despu√©s se ver√≠a. Dijo tambi√©n que se llamaba el sabio Mu√Īat√≥n.

-Frestón diría -dijo don Quijote.

-No sé -respondió el ama- si se llamaba Frestón o Fritón; sólo sé que acabó en tón su nombre.

-Así es -dijo don Quijote-; que ése es un sabio encantador, grande enemigo mío, que me tiene ojeriza, porque sabe por sus artes y letras que tengo de venir, andando los tiempos, a pelear en singular batalla con un caballero a quien él favorece, y le tengo de vencer, sin que él lo pueda estorbar, y por esto procura hacerme todos los sinsabores que puede; y mándole yo que mal podrá él contradecir ni evitar lo que por el cielo está ordenado.

-¬ŅQui√©n duda de eso? -dijo la sobrina-. Pero, ¬Ņqui√©n le mete a vuestra merced, se√Īor t√≠o, en esas pendencias? ¬ŅNo ser√° mejor estarse pac√≠fico en su casa y no irse por el mundo a buscar pan de trastrigo, sin considerar que muchos van por lana y vuelven tresquilados?

-¡Oh sobrina mía -respondió don Quijote-, y cuán mal que estás en la cuenta! Primero que a mí me tresquilen, tendré peladas y quitadas las barbas a cuantos imaginaren tocarme en la punta de un solo cabello.

No quisieron las dos replicarle más, porque vieron que se le encendía la cólera.

Es, pues, el caso que él estuvo quince días en casa muy sosegado, sin dar muestras de querer segundar sus primeros devaneos, en los cuales días pasó graciosísimos cuentos con sus dos compadres el cura y el barbero, sobre que él decía que la cosa de que más necesidad tenía el mundo era de caballeros andantes y de que en él se resucitase la caballería andantesca. El cura algunas veces le contradecía y otras concedía, porque si no guardaba este artificio, no había poder averiguarse con él.

En este tiempo, solicitó don Quijote a un labrador vecino suyo, hombre de bien -si es que este título se puede dar al que es pobre-, pero de muy poca sal en la mollera. En resolución, tanto le dijo, tanto le persuadió y prometió, que el pobre villano se determinó de salirse con él y servirle de escudero. Decíale, entre otras cosas, don Quijote que se dispusiese a ir con él de buena gana, porque tal vez le podía suceder aventura que ganase, en quítame allá esas pajas, alguna ínsula, y le dejase a él por gobernador della. Con estas promesas y otras tales, Sancho Panza, que así se llamaba el labrador, dejó su mujer y hijos y asentó por escudero de su vecino.

Dio luego don Quijote orden en buscar dineros; y, vendiendo una cosa y empe√Īando otra, y malbarat√°ndolas todas, lleg√≥ una razonable cantidad. Acomod√≥se asimesmo de una rodela, que pidi√≥ prestada a un su amigo, y, pertrechando su rota celada lo mejor que pudo, avis√≥ a su escudero Sancho del d√≠a y la hora que pensaba ponerse en camino, para que √©l se acomodase de lo que viese que m√°s le era menester. Sobre todo le encarg√≥ que llevase alforjas; e dijo que s√≠ llevar√≠a, y que ansimesmo pensaba llevar un asno que ten√≠a muy bueno, porque √©l no estaba duecho a andar mucho a pie. En lo del asno repar√≥ un poco don Quijote, imaginando si se le acordaba si alg√ļn caballero andante hab√≠a tra√≠do escudero caballero asnalmente, pero nunca le vino alguno a la memoria; mas, con todo esto, determin√≥ que le llevase, con presupuesto de acomodarle de m√°s honrada caballer√≠a en habiendo ocasi√≥n para ello, quit√°ndole el caballo al primer descort√©s caballero que topase. Provey√≥se de camisas y de las dem√°s cosas que √©l pudo, conforme al consejo que el ventero le hab√≠a dado; todo lo cual hecho y cumplido, sin despedirse Panza de sus hijos y mujer, ni don Quijote de su ama y sobrina, una noche se salieron del lugar sin que persona los viese; en la cual caminaron tanto, que al amanecer se tuvieron por seguros de que no los hallar√≠an aunque los buscasen.

Iba Sancho Panza sobre su jumento como un patriarca, con sus alforjas y su bota, y con mucho deseo de verse ya gobernador de la √≠nsula que su amo le hab√≠a prometido. Acert√≥ don Quijote a tomar la misma derrota y camino que el que √©l hab√≠a tomado en su primer viaje, que fue por el campo de Montiel, por el cual caminaba con menos pesadumbre que la vez pasada, porque, por ser la hora de la ma√Īana y herirles a soslayo los rayos del sol, no les fatigaban. Dijo en esto Sancho Panza a su amo:

-Mire vuestra merced, se√Īor caballero andante, que no se le olvide lo que de la √≠nsula me tiene prometido; que yo la sabr√© gobernar, por grande que sea.

A lo cual le respondió don Quijote:

-Has de saber, amigo Sancho Panza, que fue costumbre muy usada de los caballeros andantes antiguos hacer gobernadores a sus escuderos de las √≠nsulas o reinos que ganaban, y yo tengo determinado de que por m√≠ no falte tan agradecida usanza; antes, pienso aventajarme en ella: porque ellos algunas veces, y quiz√° las m√°s, esperaban a que sus escuderos fuesen viejos; y, ya despu√©s de hartos de servir y de llevar malos d√≠as y peores noches, les daban alg√ļn t√≠tulo de conde, o, por lo mucho, de marqu√©s, de alg√ļn valle o provincia de poco m√°s a menos; pero, si t√ļ vives y yo vivo, bien podr√≠a ser que antes de seis d√≠as ganase yo tal reino que tuviese otros a √©l adherentes, que viniesen de molde para coronarte por rey de uno dellos. Y no lo tengas a mucho, que cosas y casos acontecen a los tales caballeros, por modos tan nunca vistos ni pensados, que con facilidad te podr√≠a dar a√ļn m√°s de lo que te prometo.

-De esa manera -respondi√≥ Sancho Panza-, si yo fuese rey por alg√ļn milagro de los que vuestra merced dice, por lo menos, Juana Guti√©rrez, mi o√≠slo, vendr√≠a a ser reina, y mis hijos infantes.

-Pues, ¬Ņqui√©n lo duda? -respondi√≥ don Quijote.

-Yo lo dudo -replic√≥ Sancho Panza-; porque tengo para m√≠ que, aunque lloviese Dios reinos sobre la tierra, ninguno asentar√≠a bien sobre la cabeza de Mari Guti√©rrez. Sepa, se√Īor, que no vale dos maraved√≠s para reina; condesa le caer√° mejor, y aun Dios y ayuda.

-Encomi√©ndalo t√ļ a Dios, Sancho -respondi√≥ don Quijote-, que √Čl dar√° lo que m√°s le convenga, pero no apoques tu √°nimo tanto, que te vengas a contentar con menos que con ser adelantado.

-No lo har√©, se√Īor m√≠o -respondi√≥ Sancho-; y m√°s teniendo tan principal amo en vuestra merced, que me sabr√° dar todo aquello que me est√© bien y yo pueda llevar.

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