



Produced by David Widger





                           DON QUIXOTE

                            Volume II.

                             Part 34.

                     by Miguel de Cervantes


                    Translated by John Ormsby



CHAPTER LIV.

WHICH DEALS WITH MATTERS RELATING TO THIS HISTORY AND NO OTHER


The duke and duchess resolved that the challenge Don Quixote had, for the
reason already mentioned, given their vassal, should be proceeded with;
and as the young man was in Flanders, whither he had fled to escape
having Dona Rodriguez for a mother-in-law, they arranged to substitute
for him a Gascon lacquey, named Tosilos, first of all carefully
instructing him in all he had to do. Two days later the duke told Don
Quixote that in four days from that time his opponent would present
himself on the field of battle armed as a knight, and would maintain that
the damsel lied by half a beard, nay a whole beard, if she affirmed that
he had given her a promise of marriage. Don Quixote was greatly pleased
at the news, and promised himself to do wonders in the lists, and
reckoned it rare good fortune that an opportunity should have offered for
letting his noble hosts see what the might of his strong arm was capable
of; and so in high spirits and satisfaction he awaited the expiration of
the four days, which measured by his impatience seemed spinning
themselves out into four hundred ages. Let us leave them to pass as we do
other things, and go and bear Sancho company, as mounted on Dapple, half
glad, half sad, he paced along on his road to join his master, in whose
society he was happier than in being governor of all the islands in the
world. Well then, it so happened that before he had gone a great way from
the island of his government (and whether it was island, city, town, or
village that he governed he never troubled himself to inquire) he saw
coming along the road he was travelling six pilgrims with staves,
foreigners of that sort that beg for alms singing; who as they drew near
arranged themselves in a line and lifting up their voices all together
began to sing in their own language something that Sancho could not with
the exception of one word which sounded plainly "alms," from which he
gathered that it was alms they asked for in their song; and being, as
Cide Hamete says, remarkably charitable, he took out of his alforias the
half loaf and half cheese he had been provided with, and gave them to
them, explaining to them by signs that he had nothing else to give them.
They received them very gladly, but exclaimed, "Geld! Geld!"

"I don't understand what you want of me, good people," said Sancho.

On this one of them took a purse out of his bosom and showed it to
Sancho, by which he comprehended they were asking for money, and putting
his thumb to his throat and spreading his hand upwards he gave them to
understand that he had not the sign of a coin about him, and urging
Dapple forward he broke through them. But as he was passing, one of them
who had been examining him very closely rushed towards him, and flinging
his arms round him exclaimed in a loud voice and good Spanish, "God bless
me! What's this I see? Is it possible that I hold in my arms my dear
friend, my good neighbour Sancho Panza? But there's no doubt about it,
for I'm not asleep, nor am I drunk just now."

Sancho was surprised to hear himself called by his name and find himself
embraced by a foreign pilgrim, and after regarding him steadily without
speaking he was still unable to recognise him; but the pilgrim perceiving
his perplexity cried, "What! and is it possible, Sancho Panza, that thou
dost not know thy neighbour Ricote, the Morisco shopkeeper of thy
village?"

Sancho upon this looking at him more carefully began to recall his
features, and at last recognised him perfectly, and without getting off
the ass threw his arms round his neck saying, "Who the devil could have
known thee, Ricote, in this mummer's dress thou art in? Tell me, who bas
frenchified thee, and how dost thou dare to return to Spain, where if
they catch thee and recognise thee it will go hard enough with thee?"

"If thou dost not betray me, Sancho," said the pilgrim, "I am safe; for
in this dress no one will recognise me; but let us turn aside out of the
road into that grove there where my comrades are going to eat and rest,
and thou shalt eat with them there, for they are very good fellows; I'll
have time enough to tell thee then all that has happened me since I left
our village in obedience to his Majesty's edict that threatened such
severities against the unfortunate people of my nation, as thou hast
heard."

Sancho complied, and Ricote having spoken to the other pilgrims they
withdrew to the grove they saw, turning a considerable distance out of
the road. They threw down their staves, took off their pilgrim's cloaks
and remained in their under-clothing; they