Don Quixote understood him quite well, and answered him veryquietly, "If thou wert a knight, as thou art none, I should havealready chastised thy folly and rashness, miserable creature." Towhich the Biscayan returned, "I no gentleman! -I swear to God thouliest as I am Christian: if thou droppest lance and drawest sword,soon shalt thou see thou art carrying water to the cat: Biscayan onland, hidalgo at sea, hidalgo at the devil, and look, if thou sayestotherwise thou liest."
"'"You will see presently," said Agrajes,'" replied Don Quixote; andthrowing his lance on the ground he drew his sword, braced his buckleron his arm, and attacked the Biscayan, bent upon taking his life.
The Biscayan, when he saw him coming on, though he wished todismount from his mule, in which, being one of those sorry ones letout for hire, he had no confidence, had no choice but to draw hissword; it was lucky for him, however, that he was near the coach, fromwhich he was able to snatch a cushion that served him for a shield;and they went at one another as if they had been two mortal enemies.The others strove to make peace between them, but could not, for theBiscayan declared in his disjointed phrase that if they did not lethim finish his battle he would kill his mistress and everyone thatstrove to prevent him. The lady in the coach, amazed and terrifiedat what she saw, ordered the coachman to draw aside a little, andset herself to watch this severe struggle, in the course of whichthe Biscayan smote Don Quixote a mighty stroke on the shoulder overthe top of his buckler, which, given to one without armour, would havecleft him to the waist. Don Quixote, feeling the weight of thisprodigious blow, cried aloud, saying, "O lady of my soul, Dulcinea,flower of beauty, come to the aid of this your knight, who, infulfilling his obligations to your beauty, finds himself in thisextreme peril." To say this, to lift his sword, to shelter himselfwell behind his buckler, and to assail the Biscayan was the work of aninstant, determined as he was to venture all upon a single blow. TheBiscayan, seeing him come on in this way, was convinced of his courageby his spirited bearing, and resolved to follow his example, so hewaited for him keeping well under cover of his cushion, being unableto execute any sort of manoeuvre with his mule, which, dead tiredand never meant for this kind of game, could not stir a step.
On, then, as aforesaid, came Don Quixote against the waryBiscayan, with uplifted sword and a firm intention of splitting him inhalf, while on his side the Biscayan waited for him sword in hand, andunder the protection of his cushion; and all present stoodtrembling, waiting in suspense the result of blows such asthreatened to fall, and the lady in the coach and the rest of herfollowing were making a thousand vows and offerings to all theimages and shrines of Spain, that God might deliver her squire and allof them from this great peril in which they found themselves. But itspoils all, that at this point and crisis the author of the historyleaves this battle impending, giving as excuse that he could findnothing more written about these achievements of Don Quixote than whathas been already set forth. It is true the second author of thiswork was unwilling to believe that a history so curious could havebeen allowed to fall under the sentence of oblivion, or that thewits of La Mancha could have been so undiscerning as not to preservein their archives or registries some documents referring to thisfamous knight; and this being his persuasion, he did not despair offinding the conclusion of this pleasant history, which, heavenfavouring him, he did find in a way that shall be related in theSecond Part.
CHAPTER IX
IN WHICH IS CONCLUDED AND FINISHED THE TERRIFIC BATTLE BETWEEN THEGALLANT BISCAYAN AND THE VALIANT MANCHEGAN
IN THE First Part of this history we left the valiant Biscayan andthe renowned Don Quixote with drawn swords uplifted, ready todeliver two such furious slashing blows that if they had fallen fulland fair they would at least have split and cleft them asunder fromtop to toe and laid them open like a pomegranate; and at this socritical point the delightful history came to a stop and stood cutshort without any intimation from the author where what was missingwas to be found.
This distressed me greatly, because the pleasure derived from havingread such a small portion turned to vexation at the thought of thepoor chance that presented itself of finding the large part that, soit seemed to me, was missing of such an interesting tale. Itappeared to me to be a thing impossible and contrary to allprecedent that so good a knight should have been without some sageto undertake the task of writing his marvellous achievements; athing that was never wanting to any of those knights-errant who,they say, went after adventures; for every one of them had one ortwo sages as if made on purpose, who not only recorded their deeds butdescribed their most trifling thoughts and follies, however secretthey might be; and such a good knight could not have been sounfortunate as not to have what Platir and others like him had inabundance. And so I could not bring myself to believe that such agallant tale had been left maimed and mutilated, and I laid theblame on Time, the devourer and destroyer of all things, that hadeither concealed or consumed it.
On the other hand, it struck me that, inasmuch as among his booksthere had been found such modern ones as "The Enlightenment ofJealousy" and the "Nymphs and Shepherds of Henares," his story mustlikewise be modern, and that though it might not be written, itmight exist in the memory of the people of his village and of those inthe neighbourhood. This reflection kept me perplexed and longing toknow really and truly the whole life and wondrous deeds of ourfamous Spaniard, Don Quixote of La Mancha, light and mirror ofManchegan chivalry, and the first that in our age and in these so evildays devoted himself to the labour and exercise of the arms ofknight-errantry, righting wrongs, succouring widows, and protectingdamsels of that sort that used to ride about, whip in hand, on theirpalfreys, with all their virginity about them, from mountain tomountain and valley to valley- for, if it were not for some ruffian,or boor with a hood and hatchet, or monstrous giant, that forced them,there were in days of yore damsels that at the end of eighty years, inall which time they had never slept a day under a roof, went totheir graves as much maids as the mothers that bore them. I say, then,that in these and other respects our gallant Don Quixote is worthyof everlasting and notable praise, nor should it be withheld even fromme for the labour and pains spent in searching for the conclusion ofthis delightful history; though I know well that if Heaven, chance andgood fortune had not helped me, the world would have remained deprivedof an entertainment and pleasure that for a couple of hours or somay well occupy him who shall read it attentively. The discovery of itoccurred in this way.
One day, as I was in the Alcana of Toledo, a boy came up to sellsome pamphlets and old papers to a silk mercer, and, as I am fond ofreading even the very scraps of paper in the streets, led by thisnatural bent of mine I took up one of the pamphlets the boy had forsale, and saw that it was in characters which I recognised asArabic, and as I was unable to read them though I could recognisethem, I looked about to see if there were any Spanish-speaking Moriscoat hand to read them for me; nor was there any great difficulty infinding such an interpreter, for even had I sought one for an olderand better language I should have found him. In short, chance providedme with one, who when I told him what I wanted and put the book intohis hands, opened it in the middle and after reading a little in itbegan to laugh. I asked him what he was laughing at, and he repliedthat it was at something the book had written in the margin by wayof a note. I bade him tell it to me; and he still laughing said, "Inthe margin, as I told you, this is written: 'This Dulcinea delToboso so often mentioned in this history, had, they say, the besthand of any woman in all La Mancha for salting pigs.'"
When I heard Dulcinea del Toboso named, I was struck with surpriseand amazement, for it occurred to me at once that these pamphletscontained the history of Don Quixote. With this idea I pressed himto read the beginning, and doing so, turning the Arabic offhand intoCastilian, he told me it meant, "History of Don Quixote of LaMancha, written by Cide Hamete Benengeli, an Arab historian." Itrequired great caution to hide the joy I felt when the title of thebook reached my ears, and snatching it from the silk mercer, Ibought all the papers and pamphlets from the boy for half a real;and if he had had his wits about him and had known how eager I was forthem, he might have safely calculated on making more than six reals bythe bargain. I withdrew at once with the Morisco into the cloisterof the cathedral, and begged him to turn all these pamphlets thatrelated to Don Quixote into the Castilian tongue, without omittingor adding anything to them, offering him whatever payment hepleased. He was satisfied with two arrobas of raisins and twobushels of wheat, and promised to translate them faithfully and withall despatch; but to make the matter easier, and not to let such aprecious find out of my hands, I took him to my house, where in littlemore than a month and a half he translated the whole just as it is setdown here.
In the first pamphlet the battle between Don Quixote and theBiscayan was drawn to the very life, they planted in the same attitudeas the history describes, their swords raised, and the one protectedby his buckler, the other by his cushion, and the Biscayan's mule sotrue to nature that it could be seen to be a hired one a bowshotoff. The Biscayan had an inscription under his feet which said, "DonSancho de Azpeitia," which no doubt must have been his name; and atthe feet of Rocinante was another that said, "Don Quixote."Rocinante was marvellously portrayed, so long and thin, so lank andlean, with so much backbone and so far gone in consumption, that heshowed plainly with what judgment and propriety the name ofRocinante had been bestowed upon him. Near him was Sancho Panzaholding the halter of his ass, at whose feet was another label thatsaid, "Sancho Zancas," and according to the picture, he must havehad a big belly, a short body, and long shanks, for which reason, nodoubt, the names of Panza and Zancas were given him, for by thesetwo surnames the history several times calls him. Some othertrifling particulars might be mentioned, but they are all of slightimportance and have nothing to do with the true relation of thehistory; and no history can be bad so long as it is true.
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