Part 7

“Undismayed, I spur my horse and gallop into the lists, where I shiver a lance in the presence of the emperor and his daughter. Thereupon the princess falls in love with me, and entreats her father’s leave to bestow upon me her hand. The emperor consents, and calling me to the platform, he rewards my gallantry with the hand of the princess, who has for her dower a kingdom, and for her subjects a nation of dwarfs. Thus, from a bachelor of Salamanca (and not of Alcalá), I become nothing less than a king.”[60]

“Friend bachelor,” observed I, “for the life of me I cannot comprehend how the just and reasonable reply of the Duke del Infantado to the invincible emperor, can warrant the inference that knights-errant were at that period banished from the world. On the contrary, we know that Micer Oliver de la Marcha was then living, though in a very advanced old age. He was a knight of the court of the Duke of Burgundy, Philip the Good, and he afterwards figured in the court of the duke’s daughter, Doña María, the consort of the Emperor Maximilian, and mother of Philip the Fair. This same Oliver de la Marcha married Doña Juana, a daughter of the King of Castile, and he wrote a book entitled _El Caballero Determinado_, which like many of the romances of chivalry then circulated, was very ingenious, though full of extravagances. _El Caballero Determinado_ was written in French, from which language it was translated by Don Hernando de Acuña, who transferred it into very graceful Castilian verse.[R]

“Moreover you must also recollect what is related of Mario de Abenante, a Neapolitan knight, who challenged another knight, Don Francisco Pandon, also of Naples. Both entered the lists furiously defying each other. Don Francisco made a thrust at Mario’s horse, and wounded the animal, so that he was well-nigh falling. Mario was unconscious of his danger until his uncle, who was within the lists, beckoned him to dismount, which he did, and then, with great alertness, he inflicted a wound on the horse of his adversary. The animal became restive, and began to kick and plunge in such a manner that Don Francisco found himself constrained to surrender. Mario’s conduct on this occasion called forth severe censure from all who witnessed it, and he was declared to be a coward and a traitor. Neither can you have forgotten other feats of knight-errantry which have taken place in these present times; as for example, that passage of arms when a knight named Leres challenged another named Martín López. Both met in single combat in Rome, armed with lances and cuirasses. In the midst of the conflict it happened that the horse of Martín López stumbled and fell. López was stunned by the fall, and Leres, thinking it cowardly to strike his adversary as he lay on the ground, was preparing to dismount; but in so doing he also stumbled and fell. Seeing this accident, Martín López, with an effort, raised himself up, and fearing lest fortune should not grant him such another opportunity, he turned upon Leres, and in that cowardly manner subdued him. Setting aside all these events, you cannot but recollect the happy journey of King Don Philip II. (now in glory), who, when he was Infante, travelled from Spain into his territories in Flanders and Brabant. The whole history is in print, as related by Juan Calvete de Estrella.”[S]

“I know the book you speak of,” eagerly interrupted the bachelor. “It is one of the most entertaining that ever appeared since the world has been the world, or at least since the art of printing has been known. It contains nothing but truth, and that cannot be said of the writings of all historians, some of whom give currency to falsehood by narrating events which never took place.[T] My father was in the suite of the Infante in that journey to Flanders; but in consequence of an adventure with a lady in which he became entangled, he was forced to return in all haste to Spain. On his road, he encountered more adventures than ever befel that Monster of Fortune,[61] Antonio Pérez.[V] Finally, he was returning home angry and fretful, like one stung by an asp----.”

Here I cut him short, for I was fearful that he was preparing to enter upon one of his tedious and inapt tales. So imitating the serpent, which, with curious perversity, closes her ears when she wishes not to hear the enchanter’s voice, I pretended not to hear what he was saying, and I thus proceeded,

“In Binche, as you probably know, sundry knights who were in that town appeared in the presence of the emperor _Semper Augusto_, and the prince his son. They stated that a certain enchanter, a foe to virtue and knight-errantry, and one whom all accounts describe to have been more malignant than Arcalaus,[U] and a greater heretic than Constantino,[W] had taken refuge in Gallia Belgica, and somewhere near to the town of Binche.”

“Do you not recollect the name of that enchanter?” eagerly interrupted the bachelor.

“No, on my faith, I do not,” replied I; “but I doubt not he had a very hideous name; like all those evil spirits whose mischievous doings are narrated in books of chivalry. I have heard of a certain author who, during the space of several days, puzzled himself sorely to fix on a name for an enchanter whom he introduced into one of his stories. His object was to find a pompous, high-sounding name, which would be expressive of the enchanter’s character. The author in question happened one day to be visiting the house of a friend where he and others were playing at cards. During the game, the master of the house calling to one of the servants, said,--‘_Hola Cœlio! trae aquí cantos!_’--(Hola Cœlio! bring hither some stones!)[62] These words fell with such sonorous emphasis on the ear of our author, that he immediately rose from the card-table, and, without taking leave of his friends, he straightway hurried home, where he wrote down the name _Traquicantos_, with which he baptized his enchanter....

“But to return to the magician of Binche, of whom I was just now speaking. By his fiendish arts he spread dismay among the inhabitants of the neighbouring country, doing all sorts of mischief, and threatening still greater harm. The knights ascertained that the said enchanter dwelt in a palace which, being continually enveloped in a hazy cloud, was invisible even to those who had the courage to seek to discover it.[X] But it happened that a virtuous princess, deeply versed in the occult sciences of foresight and foreknowledge, seeing the mischief wrought by the enchanter, declared that within a certain lofty mountain-peak there was hidden a sword possessing singular power, as was denoted by the following lines inscribed on it:--

“_‘Whosoever shall draw forth this sword from the stone within which it is hidden, will terminate these evils, and dispel these enchantments; and will restore to freedom the prisoners now languishing in cruel captivity. Finally, he will hurl to destruction the enchanter’s gloomy castle, and he will, moreover, achieve many other good deeds which, though not here declared, are, nevertheless, promised and predestined.’_

“The knights implored the emperor’s permission to undertake this mighty adventure. The permission was accorded, and the knights passed two whole days in performing, in the presence of the emperor and the prince, certain crazy exploits similar to those we read of in books of chivalry--those mischevous creations of idle imagination. Now, I leave you to weigh and consider (with the sound judgment which must dwell in the mind of a Señor Bachelor of Laws)[63] the fact that the said knights actually performed these feats, or rather these fooleries, and that they were approved by the emperor and the prince Don Philip, who derived therefrom much entertainment. And will it be said that there are not other madmen in the world besides the ingenious knight of La Mancha, when such as these find favour in the eyes of emperors and kings?[Y] But the fools so thickly scattered through this Christian realm cannot endure that the reading of this said book _Don Quixote_ should have the effect of convincing the unlettered common people that romances of chivalry are filled with improbabilities alike adverse to reason and common sense. Therefore it is that they attack the book with such determined fury and perversity, picking faults in it, and seeking to prove that there are no persons in the world so mad as to put faith in the reality of the stories related in books of chivalry. But the courts of kings, to say nothing of more humble places, are full of such madmen, for courts are the birthplaces of madness of every kind. These people say and do all sorts of crazy things: they enter upon insane enterprises to their own injury, and there is no possibility of convincing them of their errors. And these, forsooth, are the persons who find fault with the illustrious knight _Don Quixote_, the mirror not only of all crazy La Manchians, but of all crack-brained Spaniards; indeed, it may be said, that he is the clear reflection of all madmen throughout the world. For these reasons, instead of being depreciated, the work deserves to be prized and esteemed by all right-judging persons, inasmuch as it is the only one of all the many stories of chivalry that has been written with an honest and useful purpose. After all, the delusions of _Don Quixote_ are less absurd than many things related in those romances: and from time immemorial there have been numberless lunatics in the world who have not, in the general opinion, been accounted mad. The laudable intention of the author was to banish the false order of knight-errantry, by the highly-seasoned dish of diversion presented in his true history.”

Just as I uttered these words, the bachelor’s unlucky nag, by a sudden leap, snapped the reins by which he was fastened up; he had taken a fancy to sport with the mule who, tied to the trunk of an old oak, was quietly reposing on the grass. The mule, however, with becoming dignity, evinced her dislike of such familiarity by several smart kicks. One of them, aimed at the one eye of the poor horse which still retained some little power of vision, rendered it as blind as the other. In another instant a severe kick laid him prostrate on the earth, to all appearance bringing to an end the miseries of the horse, and the falls of his rider.

At this unexpected disaster, and naturally expecting that the poor animal, which lay struggling and gasping, was about to draw his last breath, the bachelor vented his grief in a torrent of lamentations, at the same time bitterly reproaching himself for the little caution he had observed in securing the safety of the precious jewel which he had probably hired from the stables of Colmenares.[64] He began to curse the hour when he had set out on his luckless journey.

I, to console him, said, “After all, Señor Bachelor, this misfortune has happened not inopportunely. But a minute ago you were observing that the book called _Don Quixote_ is full of absurd extravagances. Now, a truce with your lamentations, and recall to your memory that famous adventure of the Knight of La Mancha when he encountered the most disastrous of all his misfortunes--I mean when he met with the Yangueses on his departure from Chrysostom’s funeral, on which occasion Rosinante had a narrow escape with his life.”

“_Lléveme el Diablo!_” exclaimed the bachelor in a rage. “Truly I wish you and your _Don Quixote_ were a hundred leagues off. Since the moment when I first set eyes on you, as many disasters have beset me as though I were under the ban of excommunication.” So saying, he made an effort, though a vain one, to raise up his horse, which was sorely hurt, and now quite blind; at every tug of the reins he slowly thrust forward one or the other of his feet, with languid movements indicative of expiring life.

Seeing that the disaster was past all remedy, and that the sun, already receding over the mountain-tops, was about to set in his ocean-bed, I took a courteous leave of my luckless companion. But he, wholly engrossed by his great, albeit useless, efforts to raise up his horse, neither heard my farewell, nor saw my departure. There I left him, venting imprecations and uttering complaints against his evil star. I can even fancy that I hear him now. What afterwards became of him I know not, nor did I inquire. Mounting my trusty mule, I forthwith pursued my way to Toledo, and evening had set in when I entered the city gates.

I rode straightway to the house of one of my friends, where I for a time took up my abode. Turning over in my mind what had occurred, I resolved to write this my adventure, hoping thereby to undeceive the many persons who fancy they see in the ingenious Hidalgo Don Quixote, that which the ingenious Hidalgo Don Quixote is not. Therefore I give to this little book[65] the name of _Buscapié_, hoping that they who seek to discover the foot with which the Knight of La Mancha limps, may find (God be praised) that he is not lame with either; but that he stands stoutly and firmly on both, and ready to enter into single combat with the stupid and grumbling critics, who, like wasps, buzz about to the injury of society.

And now, Friend Reader, if I have given you some entertainment, or if any of the observations I have made be worthy your remembrance, I shall be much gratified, and may God have you in his holy keeping.

FOOTNOTES:

[48] Babieca was the name of the Cid’s favourite horse.

[49] The old Spanish poets occasionally lengthened their sonnets by affixing to them a few additional lines. The lines so added were called the _estrambote_.

[50] In the time of Cervantes the Spanish doctors used always to ride on mules when they went to visit their patients.

[51] The delusion of the student, in respect to the merits of his horse, would seem intended to have some reference to the hallucinations and mistakes of the Knight of La Mancha. It may be mentioned, that minute descriptions of animals, such as that here given above, are of frequent occurrence in the works of Spanish writers, especially the poets. Lope de Vega, in one of his comedies, describes in detail a fish caught in the net of a fisherman on the bank of the Guadalquivir. Another beautiful specimen of this kind of animal painting is given by Antonio Mira Amescua, in his _Acteon i Diana_: the subject is a pack of hounds, weary with the chase. Villaviciosa, in his _Mosquea_, pourtrays with eloquent poetic colouring the death of a fly; and there is a celebrated description of a horse by Pablo de Céspedes.

[52] Cervantes here alludes to a little work entitled:--_Conserva Espiritual_, by Joaquín Romero de Cepeda.

[53] Spiritual verses for the conversion of the Sinner, and for shewing the worthlessness of the world.

[54] “Praised be God.”

[55] The ardite is a small Spanish coin, of about the value of a farthing.

[56] Mingo Rebulgo is an old Spanish eclogue written to satirise the court of King John II. Its supposed author is Rodrigo de Cota, who flourished in the commencement of the fifteenth century. It is written in couplets, and is entitled “_Las coplas de Mingo Rebulgo_.” The romance of the Moor Calaynos is one of the oldest compositions of its class, and is supposed to have been written in the fourteenth century. It is also in _coplas_, or couplets. In the course of time, and when the forms of Spanish poetry began to improve, the old fashioned commonplace language of the romance of Calaynos began to appear vulgar and trivial, it gave birth to the proverb, “_este no vale las coplas de Calaynos_.” (This is not worth the couplets of Calaynos.) A saying which is employed to mark great depreciation of any object. In alluding to the little affinity between Mingo Rebulgo and Calaynos, Cervantes means to draw a very broad contrast between two things not merely dissimilar, but differing very much in worth.

[57] “The talk of the prattler is not all truth.”

[58] “The mill gains in going, that which it loses in standing still.”

[59] A sort of hunting-jacket made of leather, formerly worn in Spain.

[60] This excursive flight into the region of romance would appear to have been interpolated by Cervantes after the Buscapié was written,--it has no direct bearing on the question under discussion between the two interlocutors.

[61] _Monstruo de Fortuna_ is a designation frequently applied by old Spanish writers to the celebrated Antonio Pérez. The term _Monster_ in the sense of _prodigy_ is applied to Lope de Vega by Cervantes, who styles his celebrated contemporary _Monstruo de Naturaleza_ (Monster of Nature).

[62] It was formerly the custom in Spain to use small pebble stones for counters in playing at cards.

[63] This is a stroke of satire aimed at the Spanish lawyers of that period. In the time of Cervantes, the _Abogados_ (advocates) were remarkable only for their ignorance and pedantry.

[64] At the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century, there lived in Burgos a tavern-keeper named Colmenares, celebrated alike for his wealth, his social humour, and his witty sayings. Many of his jests are collected and published in a volume entitled “_Diálogos de apacible entretenimiento, por Gaspar Lucas, Hidalgo_.” The inn in Madrid known in the time of Cervantes by the appellation of the _Mesón de Colmenares_, was probably kept by the witty _tavernero_ of Burgos, or some of his relations.

[65] Cervantes here uses the term _librillo_, the Spanish diminutive for _libro_ (book). Were it allowable to make an English word for the purpose of translating this Spanish term, _booklet_ might be suggested as an appropriate synonym.

NOTES.

(A).

“Which brought to my recollection the stanzas in praise of hunch-backs, written by the ingenious Licentiate Tamuriz.” (Page 102).

Tamariz, who lived in the latter part of the sixteenth century, is noticed in terms of encomium by Don Argote de Molina, in his _Discourse on Castilian Poetry_, which he published with an edition of the old poem of the _Conde Lucanor_. Don Adolfo de Castro mentions having seen several works of Tamariz in manuscript, and among them were several novels; but of the stanzas alluded to in the text, he states he has no knowledge.

(B).

“Even if I were as well skilled in the knowledge of medicine as Juan de Villalobos of the bygone time.” (Page 103).

The name of this celebrated physician was Francisco, and not Juan, as Cervantes styles him, apparently by mistake. Villalobos was a native of Toledo, and one of the most distinguished men of his age. He was a learned and skilful physician, a profound philosopher, and an elegant poet. He was physician to King Ferdinand the Catholic, and afterwards to the Emperor Charles V., in whose palace he resided until the death of the Empress Isabel, in the year 1539. The cause of the empress’s death is, by some authorities, alleged to have been a malignant fever, whilst others state that she died in childbirth. But, be that as it may, the event was a source of deep grief to Villalobos, who reproached himself for not having succeeded in saving her life. Having become very dejected in spirits, he solicited and obtained the emperor’s permission to remove from court.

In his retirement Villalobos employed himself in writing several works on medical and philosophic subjects. He conceived that the services he had rendered to the Imperial family, were but inadequately requited, and on this subject he gave vent to his dissatisfaction both in verse and prose. In one of his writings he makes the following reflections in allusion to the neglect with which he felt himself treated: “Having served the court till the age of seventy, I may say that my period of service has extended to my death; for my remaining span of existence can scarcely be called life, being merely the endurance of the pains and miseries of old age. I have studied and exerted my faculties, not to enable poor labourers to wear old men’s shoes, but to secure the blessings of health to the greatest and best princes in the world. And to this object I directed all my thoughts and efforts, often passing anxious nights without sleep, and many times only resting my poor bones on the floor. Their Majesties though knowing these facts which they witnessed with their own eyes, neither afforded me the opportunity of making my fortune nor of securing a subsistence for my son, which might easily have been done. This neglect must be attributed to one or two causes, or to both those causes conjointly. Either I have not merited the reward to which I imagine myself entitled, or those by whose advice and information their Majesties were guided, forgot me, remembering others more near to them but whom perchance I preceded both in priority of service as well as of age.”

Villalobos was the author of some notes and commentaries on _Pliny’s Natural History_, which were published, but many other works which he wrote in Latin were never submitted to the press. In noticing these works, he himself says:--“Spanish printers will not print Latin books unless the author himself defrays the expense from his own pocket. And as I am not a bookseller, I hold it to be a hardship to study and labour in the production of the work, and then to spend my money for the advantage of those who after all will shew me but little gratitude.”

In addition to his learning and scientific attainments, Villalobos was distinguished for his humorous and satirical disposition, a quality which is conspicuous in his spirited translation of the _Amphytrion_ of Plautus. Moratin observes, that no other translator has so happily transferred to the Spanish language the jests and humorous sallies of the great comic dramatist of antiquity.

(C).

“Or a Nicolao Monardes of the present time.” (Page 103).

Monardes was a native of Seville, and an eminent physician in the time of Cervantes. He was the author of several works on medicine and natural history which enjoy well deserved celebrity. The following are the titles of a few of his most celebrated writings:--

“_Primera Segunda i tercera partes de la Historia Medicinal de las cosas que se traen de nuestras Indias Occidentales que serven en Medicina._” (First, second, and third parts of the medical history of those objects, the growth of our Western Indies, which are made use of in medicine.)

“_Tratado de la piedra Bezoar, i de la yerba escuerzonera._” (Treatise on bezoar stone, and on the poison of the toad.)

“_Diálogo de las grandezas del hierro, i de sus virtudes medicinales._” (Treatise on the importance of iron and its medicinal properties.)

“_Tratado de la nieve, i del beber frío._” (Treatise on snow and on cold drinks.)

The _Historia Medicinal_, rendered Monardes celebrated throughout Europe. It was translated into Italian by Anibal Briganti di Chieti, an eminent physician of the time, and the translation was published in Venice, in the year 1576. Carlo Clusio transferred it to the Latin tongue, and published it at Antwerp, in 1574. An English translation by Mr. Frampton, appeared in 1577, and a French one by Antonio Collin, in 1619.