Don Quixote

by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

  'Is it possible, compadre, that it wasn't my donkey who brayed?'

  'No, it was me,' responded the other man.

  'Then I say, compadre,' said the owner, 'that between you and a jackass there's no difference at all as far as braying is concerned, because never in my life have I seen or heard anything more lifelike.'

  'The compliments and flattery,' responded the planner, 'belong and apply to you more than to me, compadre; by the God who made me, you can give a two-bray advantage to the greatest and most expert brayer in the world, because your sound is loud, your voice sustained, with the correct time and rhythm, your inflections numerous and rapid: in short, I admit defeat, and surrender the palm, and hand you the banner for this rare ability.'

  'Now I say,' responded the owner, 'that from now on I'll esteem myself more and think better of myself and believe that I know something valuable since I'm graced with this talent; though I thought I could bray well, I never realized I had reached the heights that you say I have.'

  'I'll also say now,' responded the second man, 'that there are rare abilities in the world that are lost, and illused by those who don't know how to take advantage of them.'

  'Except in cases such as the one we're dealing with now,' responded the owner, 'ours are of little use to us, and even here, may it please God that they do us some good.'

  Having said this, they separated and returned to their braying, and were constantly being deceived, and came back together again, until they decided on a signal to let them know that they were the ones braying and not the donkey, and it was that they would bray twice, one bray right after the other. In this way, constantly giving two brays in a row, they circled the entire woods, but the lost donkey did not respond, not even with a sign. Yet how could the poor unfortunate respond? For they found him in the deepest part of the woods, devoured by wolves. And when they saw him, his owner said:

  'I was surprised at his not responding, because if he hadn't been dead, he would have brayed when he heard us, or wouldn't be a donkey; but as long as I was able to hear you bray so beautifully, compadre, I consider the effort of looking for him well worth the trouble, even though I found him dead.'

  'We're a talented pair, compadre,' responded the other, 'because if the abbot sings well, the altar boy's not far behind.'

  And so, disconsolate and hoarse, they returned to their village and told their friends, neighbors, and acquaintances what had happened to them in their search for the donkey, each exaggerating the other's talent for braying, all of which was learned and circulated in nearby towns. And the devil, who never sleeps, and loves to sow and plant quarrels and discord wherever he goes, spreading mischief on the wind and creating disputes out of nothing, ordered and arranged matters so that the people from other towns, when they saw someone from our village, would bray, as if throwing the braying of our councilmen back into our faces. The boys joined in, which was like giving it into the hands and mouths of all the demons in hell, and the braying spread from one town to another, so that the natives of a town are known by their braying, just as blacks are known and differentiated from whites; and this unfortunate mockery has gone so far that often the mocked, holding weapons in their hands and marching in formation, have come out to do battle with the mockers, and no one and nothing, neither fear nor shame, can stop it. I believe that tomorrow or the next day the people from my village, who are the people who bray, will go to fight another town that's two leagues away, which is one of those that persecute us the most, and so that they can be well-prepared, I've bought the lances and halberds that you saw. And these are the marvels I said I would tell you, and if they don't seem so to you, I don't know any others."

  And saying this, the good man concluded what he had to say, and at that moment a man dressed all in chamois--hose, breeches, and doublet--came through the door of the inn, and in a loud voice he said:

  "Senor Innkeeper, is there room at the inn? For the soothsaying monkey is coming here, and a puppet show about the freeing of Melisendra."

  "Good Lord!" said the innkeeper. "It's Master Pedro! There's a good night ahead of us."

  I forgot to say that this Master Pedro had his left eye and almost half his cheek covered with a patch of green taffeta, a sign that all of that side was probably diseased; the innkeeper continued, saying:

  "Your grace is welcome, Senor Master Pedro. Where are the monkey and the puppet stage? I don't see them."

  "They're nearby," responded the man in chamois, "but I came on ahead to find out if there's room."

  "I'd move out the Duke of Alba himself to make room for Master Pedro," responded the innkeeper. "Bring the monkey and the puppet stage in, because tonight there are people in the inn who will pay to see the show and the monkey's talents."

  "That's a stroke of luck," responded the man with the patch. "I'll lower the price, and consider myself well-paid if I cover my costs; now I'll go and bring in the cart that's carrying the monkey and the stage."

  And then he left the inn again.

  Don Quixote asked the innkeeper about Master Pedro and the pup-pet show and monkey he was bringing with him. To which the innkeeper responded:

  "He's a famous puppet master who's been traveling the Aragonese side of La Mancha for some time, showing a puppet play about Melisendra being freed by the famous Don Gaiferos, which is one of the best and best-acted histories seen in this part of the kingdom for many years. He also has with him a monkey with the rarest talent ever seen among monkeys or imagined among men, because if he's asked something, he pays attention to what he's asked, then jumps onto his master's shoulders and goes up to his ear and tells him the answer to the question, and then Master Pedro says what it is; he has much more to say about past things than about future ones, and even though he isn't right all the time, he's not wrong most of the time, so he makes us think he has the devil in his body. He charges two reales for each question if the monkey responds, I mean, if the master responds for him after he's spoken into his ear; people believe that Master Pedro is very rich, a uomo galante and a bon compagno, as they say in Italy, who leads the best life in the world; he talks more than six men and drinks more than twelve, all paid for by his tongue and his monkey and his puppet show."

  At this point Master Pedro returned, and in a cart came the puppet stage and a large tailless monkey with a rump like felt but a face that was nice-looking, and as soon as Don Quixote saw him, he asked:

  "Senor Soothsayer, can your grace tell me che pesce pigliamo? 1 What will become of us? And here you can see my two reales."

  And he told Sancho to hand them to Master Pedro, who responded for the monkey, saying:

  "Senor, this animal does not respond or give information about things to come; about past things he knows a little, and about present ones, a little more."

  "By God," said Sancho, "I wouldn't pay anything to have somebody tell me what's already happened to me! Who knows that better than me? And it would be foolish to pay anybody to tell me what I already know; but since he knows about present things, here's my two reales so His Monkeyness can tell me what my wife, Teresa Panza, is doing now, and how she's spending her time."

  Master Pedro refused to take the money, saying:

  "I don't wish to receive payment ahead of time, before the service has been provided."

  And he hit his left shoulder twice with his right hand, and the monkey leaped onto it, put his mouth up to his ear, clicked his teeth together very quickly, and after doing this for the length of time it takes to say a Credo, gave another leap down to the floor; and when he did this, Master Pedro rushed to kneel in front of Don Quixote, and throwing his arms around his legs, he said:

  "I embrace these legs as I would embrace the two Pillars of Hercules, O illustrious revivifier of a now forgotten knight errantry! O never sufficiently praised knight, Don Quixote of La Mancha, courage of the fainthearted, support of those about to fall, strong arm of those who have fallen, comfort and consolation of all who are unfortunate."

  Don Qu
ixote was dumbfounded, Sancho astounded, the cousin baffled, the page stunned, the man who told about the braying stupefied, the innkeeper perplexed, and, in short, all who heard the words of the puppet master were amazed, but he continued, saying:

  "And you, O worthy Sancho Panza, the best squire of the best knight in the world, be of good cheer! Your good wife, Teresa, is well, and at this very moment she is carding a pound of flax; to be more specific, on her left is a broken-mouthed jug that holds a good measure of wine, and with it she keeps her spirits up as she works."

  "I can believe that," responded Sancho, "because she's a wonderful woman, and except for her being jealous, I wouldn't trade her for the giantess Andandona,2 who, according to my master, was a very honorable and upright woman; my Teresa is one of those women who won't let themselves fare badly even at the expense of their heirs."

  "Now I say," said Don Quixote at this point, "that the man who reads a good deal and travels a good deal, sees a good deal and knows a good deal. I say this because what argument would have been enough to persuade me that there are monkeys in the world who can soothsay, as I have just seen with my own eyes? Because I am the very same Don Quixote of La Mancha mentioned by this good animal, although he has gone a little too far in praising me; but no matter, I give thanks to heaven, who granted me a gentle and compassionate spirit, always inclined to do good to everyone and evil to none."

  "If I had money," said the page, "I'd ask this noble monkey what will happen to me on the travels I'm undertaking."

  To which Master Pedro, who by this time had risen from the feet of Don Quixote, responded:

  "I've already said that this beast does not speak of the future, but if he did, not having money wouldn't matter, because for the sake of serving Senor Don Quixote, here present, I would give up all the profits in the world. And now, because I owe it to him, and to give him pleasure, I would like to set up my puppet stage and delight everyone in the inn, at no charge whatsoever."

  When he heard this, the innkeeper, who was overjoyed, indicated the spot where the stage could be placed, and this was done in very short order.

  Don Quixote was not very pleased with the monkey's soothsaying, for it did not seem right that a monkey could divine things, whether things of the future or of the past, and so while Master Pedro was arranging the stage, Don Quixote withdrew with Sancho to a corner of the stable where no one could hear them, and he said:

  "Look, Sancho, I have considered very carefully the strange talent of this monkey, and in my opinion this Master Pedro, his owner, must have made a pact, either implicit or explicit, with the devil."

  "If the pack's split and belongs to the devil," said Sancho, "it must be a very dirty pack, no doubt about it, but what good would that do Master Pedro?"

  "You do not understand me, Sancho: I mean only that he must have made some agreement with the devil to grant this talent to the monkey so that Master Pedro could earn his living, and when he is rich the devil will take his soul, which is precisely what the universal enemy wishes. And what makes me believe this is seeing that the monkey replies only to past or present things, which is as far as the devil's knowledge can go; future things cannot be known except through conjecture, and only occasionally, for knowing all times and moments is reserved to God alone, and for Him there is no past or future: everything is present. And this being true, as it is, it is clear that this monkey speaks in the style of the devil, and I am amazed that he has not been denounced to the Holy Office, and examined, and forced to tell by whose power he divines, for it is also clear that this monkey is not an astrologer, and neither he nor his master casts, or knows how to cast, the astrological charts used so widely now in Spain that there's not a fishwife, page, or old cobbler who does not presume to cast a chart as if it were the knave in a pack of cards lying on the floor, corrupting the marvelous truths of science with their lies and ignorance. I know of a lady who asked one of them if a small lapdog she had would become pregnant and give birth, and how many pups she would have and what color they would be. To which our noble astrologer responded that the dog would become pregnant and give birth to three pups, one green, one red, and one spotted, provided that the dog was mounted between eleven and twelve in the morning, or at night, and that it took place on a Monday or a Saturday; and what happened was that two days later the little dog died of indigestion, and the noble prognosticator was credited in the town with being a very accurate caster of charts, a reputation that all or most astrologers have."

  "Even so," said Sancho, "I would like your grace to tell Master Pedro to ask his monkey if what happened to your grace in the Cave of Montesinos is true; in my opinion, begging your grace's pardon, it was all deceptions and lies, or at least nothing but dreams."

  "Everything is possible," responded Don Quixote, "but I shall do as you advise, although I still have certain scruples in that regard."

  As they were speaking, Master Pedro came looking for Don Quixote to tell him that the puppet stage was ready, and that his grace should come to see it because it was worthwhile. Don Quixote told him what he was thinking and implored him to first ask his monkey to tell him if certain things that had occurred in the Cave of Montesinos were dreamed or true, because it seemed to him that they were both. To which Master Pedro, without saying a word, brought back his monkey, and standing in front of Don Quixote and Sancho, he said:

  "Look, noble monkey, this knight wishes to know if certain things that happened to him in a cave called Montesinos were false or true."

  And after his master had made the usual signal, the monkey jumped onto his left shoulder and spoke to him, apparently, in his ear, and then Master Pedro said:

  "The monkey says that some of the things your grace saw, or experienced, in the aforesaid cave are false, and some are true, and this is all he knows, nothing more, with regard to this question, and if your grace should wish to know more, next Friday he will respond to everything you ask of him, but for the moment he has used up his abilities, and they won't return until Friday, as he has said."

  "Didn't I say," said Sancho, "that I couldn't believe, Senor, that everything your grace said about what happened in the cave was true, not even half?"

  "Events will tell the truth of things, Sancho," responded Don Quixote, "for time, which reveals all things, brings everything into the light of day even if it is hidden in the bowels of the earth. Enough of that for now; let us go to see the puppet show of our good Master Pedro, for I believe it must hold some surprises."

  "What do you mean, some?" responded Master Pedro. "Sixty thousand are contained in this show of mine; I tell your grace, Senor Don Quixote, that it is one of the most spectacular things in the world today, but operibus credite, et non verbis. 3 and now to work, for it is getting late, and we have much to do and say and show."

  Don Quixote and Sancho did as he asked and went to the place where the stage was set up for all to see, and it was filled with the light of little wax candles that made it look colorful and resplendent. As soon as they arrived, Master Pedro went inside the puppet theater, for it was he who would manipulate the figures in the play, and outside stood a boy, a servant of Master Pedro's, to act as interpreter and narrator of the mysteries on stage; in his hand he held a rod with which he pointed to the figures as they came out.

  When everyone in the inn was sitting, and some standing, in front of the stage, and Don Quixote, Sancho, the page, and the cousin were settled in the best places, the interpreter began to say what will be heard and seen by those who hear or see the following chapter.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  In which the diverting adventure of the puppet master continues, along with other things that are really very worthwhile

  All fell silent, both Tyrians and Trojans,1

  I mean to say, all those looking at the stage were waiting to hear the words of the narrator regarding its marvels when the sound of a large number of drums and trumpets was heard, and a good deal of artillery firing, then the sound soon ended and the boy raised
his voice and said:

  "This true history, presented here for your graces, is taken literally from the French chronicles and Spanish ballads which are in the mouths of everyone, even children, on our streets. It tells of how Senor Don Gaiferos freed his wife, Melisendra, who was held captive in Spain by the Moors, in the city of Sansuena, which was the name given in those days to the city of Zaragoza;2 and your graces can see there how Don Gaiferos is playing backgammon, as they sing in the song:

  Don Gaiferos is playing at backgammon,

  his lady Melisendra is forgotten.3

  And the personage who appears now with a crown on his head and a scepter in his hands is the Emperor Charlemagne, the supposed father of Melisendra, and he, angry at seeing the idleness and neglect of his son-in-law, comes to reprimand him; notice how earnestly and heatedly he reprimands him, as if he wanted to hit him half a dozen times on the head with his scepter, and there are even authors who say that he did hit him, and hit him hard; and after saying many things to him about the danger to his honor because he would not obtain the liberty of his wife, they say that he said to him:

  'I have said enough: look to it.'4

  And look, your graces, at how the emperor turns his back and leaves an indignant Don Gaiferos; now see how he, made impatient by anger, tosses away the backgammon board and pieces and quickly asks for his armor, and asks his cousin Don Roland for the loan of his sword, Durindana, and see how Don Roland does not want to lend it to him, offering instead to accompany him in the difficult enterprise he is undertaking; but the angry and valiant knight does not accept, saying that alone he is enough to rescue his wife, even if she is held at the very center of the earth; and now he goes in to put on his armor so that he can set out immediately. Your graces, turn your eyes to the tower that you see there; it is one of the towers of Zaragoza's castle-fortress now called La Aljaferia; and that lady you see on the balcony, dressed in the Moorish fashion, is the peerless Melisendra, who would often stand there, and look at the road to France, and turn her thoughts to Paris and her husband, finding consolation in her captivity. Look too at what is happening now, perhaps unlike anything you have ever seen before. Don't you see that Moor stealing up behind Melisendra on tiptoe, his finger to his lips? Well, look at how he kisses her right on the mouth, and how quickly she spits and wipes her mouth with the white sleeve of her dress, and how she laments, and in her grief tears at her beautiful hair as if it were to blame for the offense. Look too at that somber Moor in the passageway, King Marsilio of Sansuena, who saw the insolence of the other Moor, had him arrested, though he was a relative and a great favorite, and ordered him to be given two hundred lashes and to be taken through the usual streets of the city,