"Very good," said Don Quixote; "it is twenty-five days since we leftour village, so reckon up, Sancho, according to the wages you havemade out for yourself, and see how much I owe you in proportion, andpay yourself, as I said before, out of your own hand."
"O body o' me!" said Sancho, "but your worship is very much out inthat reckoning; for when it comes to the promise of the island we mustcount from the day your worship promised it to me to this present hourwe are at now."
"Well, how long is it, Sancho, since I promised it to you?" said DonQuixote.
"If I remember rightly," said Sancho, "it must be over twenty years,three days more or less."
Don Quixote gave himself a great slap on the forehead and began tolaugh heartily, and said he, "Why, I have not been wandering, eitherin the Sierra Morena or in the whole course of our sallies, but barelytwo months, and thou sayest, Sancho, that it is twenty years since Ipromised thee the island. I believe now thou wouldst have all themoney thou hast of mine go in thy wages. If so, and if that be thypleasure, I give it to thee now, once and for all, and much good mayit do thee, for so long as I see myself rid of such a good-for-nothingsquire I'll be glad to be left a pauper without a rap. But tell me,thou perverter of the squirely rules of knight-errantry, where hastthou ever seen or read that any knight-errant's squire made terms withhis lord, 'you must give me so much a month for serving you'?Plunge, scoundrel, rogue, monster- for such I take thee to be- plunge,I say, into the mare magnum of their histories; and if thou shalt findthat any squire ever said or thought what thou hast said now, I willlet thee nail it on my forehead, and give me, over and above, foursound slaps in the face. Turn the rein, or the halter, of thyDapple, and begone home; for one single step further thou shalt notmake in my company. O bread thanklessly received! O promisesill-bestowed! O man more beast than human being! Now, when I was aboutto raise thee to such a position, that, in spite of thy wife, theywould call thee 'my lord,' thou art leaving me? Thou art going nowwhen I had a firm and fixed intention of making thee lord of thebest island in the world? Well, as thou thyself hast said beforenow, honey is not for the mouth of the ass. Ass thou art, ass thouwilt be, and ass thou wilt end when the course of thy life is run; forI know it will come to its close before thou dost perceive ordiscern that thou art a beast."
Sancho regarded Don Quixote earnestly while he was giving him thisrating, and was so touched by remorse that the tears came to his eyes,and in a piteous and broken voice he said to him, "Master mine, Iconfess that, to be a complete ass, all I want is a tail; if yourworship will only fix one on to me, I'll look on it as rightly placed,and I'll serve you as an ass all the remaining days of my life.Forgive me and have pity on my folly, and remember I know butlittle, and, if I talk much, it's more from infirmity than malice; buthe who sins and mends commends himself to God."
"I should have been surprised, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "if thouhadst not introduced some bit of a proverb into thy speech. Well,well, I forgive thee, provided thou dost mend and not show thyselfin future so fond of thine own interest, but try to be of good cheerand take heart, and encourage thyself to look forward to thefulfillment of my promises, which, by being delayed, does not becomeimpossible."
Sancho said he would do so, and keep up his heart as best hecould. They then entered the grove, and Don Quixote settled himself atthe foot of an elm, and Sancho at that of a beech, for trees of thiskind and others like them always have feet but no hands. Sancho passedthe night in pain, for with the evening dews the blow of the staffmade itself felt all the more. Don Quixote passed it in hisnever-failing meditations; but, for all that, they had some winks ofsleep, and with the appearance of daylight they pursued theirjourney in quest of the banks of the famous Ebro, where that befellthem which will be told in the following chapter.CHAPTER XXIX
OF THE FAMOUS ADVENTURE OF THE ENCHANTED BARK
BY STAGES as already described or left undescribed, two days afterquitting the grove Don Quixote and Sancho reached the river Ebro,and the sight of it was a great delight to Don Quixote as hecontemplated and gazed upon the charms of its banks, the clearnessof its stream, the gentleness of its current and the abundance ofits crystal waters; and the pleasant view revived a thousand tenderthoughts in his mind. Above all, he dwelt upon what he had seen in thecave of Montesinos; for though Master Pedro's ape had told him that ofthose things part was true, part false, he clung more to their truththan to their falsehood, the very reverse of Sancho, who held them allto be downright lies.
As they were thus proceeding, then, they discovered a small boat,without oars or any other gear, that lay at the water's edge tied tothe stem of a tree growing on the bank. Don Quixote looked allround, and seeing nobody, at once, without more ado, dismounted fromRocinante and bade Sancho get down from Dapple and tie both beastssecurely to the trunk of a poplar or willow that stood there. Sanchoasked him the reason of this sudden dismounting and tying. Don Quixotemade answer, "Thou must know, Sancho, that this bark is plainly, andwithout the possibility of any alternative, calling and inviting me toenter it, and in it go to give aid to some knight or other person ofdistinction in need of it, who is no doubt in some sore strait; forthis is the way of the books of chivalry and of the enchanters whofigure and speak in them. When a knight is involved in some difficultyfrom which he cannot be delivered save by the hand of anotherknight, though they may be at a distance of two or three thousandleagues or more one from the other, they either take him up on acloud, or they provide a bark for him to get into, and in less thanthe twinkling of an eye they carry him where they will and where hishelp is required; and so, Sancho, this bark is placed here for thesame purpose; this is as true as that it is now day, and ere thisone passes tie Dapple and Rocinante together, and then in God's handbe it to guide us; for I would not hold back from embarking, thoughbarefooted friars were to beg me."
"As that's the case," said Sancho, "and your worship chooses to givein to these- I don't know if I may call them absurdities- at everyturn, there's nothing for it but to obey and bow the head, bearingin mind the proverb, 'Do as thy master bids thee, and sit down totable with him;' but for all that, for the sake of easing myconscience, I warn your worship that it is my opinion this bark isno enchanted one, but belongs to some of the fishermen of the river,for they catch the best shad in the world here."
As Sancho said this, he tied the beasts, leaving them to the careand protection of the enchanters with sorrow enough in his heart.Don Quixote bade him not be uneasy about deserting the animals, "forhe who would carry themselves over such longinquous roads andregions would take care to feed them."
"I don't understand that logiquous," said Sancho, "nor have I everheard the word all the days of my life."
"Longinquous," replied Don Quixote, "means far off; but it is nowonder thou dost not understand it, for thou art not bound to knowLatin, like some who pretend to know it and don't."
"Now they are tied," said Sancho; "what are we to do next?"
"What?" said Don Quixote, "cross ourselves and weigh anchor; I mean,embark and cut the moorings by which the bark is held;" and the barkbegan to drift away slowly from the bank. But when Sancho sawhimself somewhere about two yards out in the river, he began totremble and give himself up for lost; but nothing distressed himmore than hearing Dapple bray and seeing Rocinante struggling to getloose, and said he to his master, "Dapple is braying in grief at ourleaving him, and Rocinante is trying to escape and plunge in after us.O dear friends, peace be with you, and may this madness that is takingus away from you, turned into sober sense, bring us back to you."And with this he fell weeping so bitterly, that Don Quixote said tohim, sharply and angrily, "What art thou afraid of, cowardly creature?What art thou weeping at, heart of butter-paste? Who pursues ormolests thee, thou soul of a tame mouse? What dost thou want,unsatisfied in the very heart of abundance? Art thou, perchance,tramping barefoot over the Riphaean mountains, instead of being seatedon a bench like an archduke on the tranquil stream of this pleasantriver, from which in a short space we shall come out upon the broadsea? But we must have already emerged and gone seven hundred oreight hundred leagues; and if I had here an astrolabe to take thealtitude of the pole, I could tell thee how many we have travelled,though either I know little, or we have already crossed or shallshortly cross the equinoctial line which parts the two oppositepoles midway."
"And when we come to that line your worship speaks of," said Sancho,"how far shall we have gone?"
"Very far," said Don Quixote, "for of the three hundred and sixtydegrees that this terraqueous globe contains, as computed byPtolemy, the greatest cosmographer known, we shall have travelledone-half when we come to the line I spoke of."
"By God," said Sancho, "your worship gives me a nice authority forwhat you say, putrid Dolly something transmogrified, or whatever itis."
52书库推荐浏览： [西班牙]塞万提斯