Chapter 88

OF THE TROUBLOUS END AND TERMINATION OF SANCHO PANZA'S GOVERNMENT

The seventh day of Sancho's government was approaching its end. The Governor lay in his bed, resting after all the judgments and proclamations he had made that day upon a fasting stomach. Suddenly he rose in his bed, for he heard the most deafening noise, intermingled with the ringing of churchbells. To this sound was added that of trumpets and drums, and the combination made a din that frightened Sancho almost out of his wits. He flew out of bed, put on a pair of slippers, and rushed into the street, dressed in nothing but his night shirt. He was startled to see the streets crowded with men, carrying torches, and crying: "To arms, Señor Governor, to arms! The enemy is here, and we are lost, unless you come to the rescue with your sword!"

Sancho was lost; he did not know what to do, for swordsmanship was not among his accomplishments. And so he simply asked them whether the enemy could not wait until he had a chance to summon his master Don Quixote of La Mancha, who, he said, knew all about arms.

Just then one of the inhabitants came along, carrying two shields, and without any ceremony he told Sancho in plain language that it was his duty as their governor to lead them into battle. Then he covered him--without giving him a chance to put on anything besides his night-shirt--with the two shields, one in front and the other one behind; pressing them together as tightly as he and another man could manage, they laced them with rope, so that Sancho could neither move a muscle, nor bend a leg. Then they put a lance in his hand and told him to lead them into battle against the enemy, for now they were no longer afraid of the outcome, they said.

"How am I to march, unlucky being that I am," asked Sancho, "when I cannot stir my knee-caps for these boards that are bound so tightly to my body! What you must do is to carry me in your arms, and lay me across or set me upright in some postern, and I shall hold it either with this lance or with my body."

When the men heard the Governor speak thus, one of them was bold enough to suggest that he could not move because he was too frightened; and this angered poor Sancho into a frantic attempt to take a step in the direction of the invading army. But this step was a fatal one, for the Governor fell in his undignified stiffness flat on his back with such a crash that he thought he had broken every bone in his body.

The men now quickly extinguished their torches, and began to step on his shield, slashing their swords over his head, shouting and yelling, and making all the noise they could. Had Sancho not pulled in his head like a tortoise in his shell, he might have fared ill. One man boldly placed himself on Sancho's roof, calling in a mighty voice, now and then filled with an agonized grunt, such directions as these: "Hold the breach there! Shut the gate! Barricade those ladders! Block the streets with feather-beds! Here with your stink-pots of pitch and resin, and kettles of boiling oil!"

All these exclamations put fear in the already hard-pressed and squeezed heart of Sancho Panza, who was wishing where he lay that he had never seen the sight of an island. He was in such an agony that he began to pray to the Lord in Heaven to have mercy on him and let him die, or else let this terrible strife and warfare come to an end.

Heaven must have heard Sancho's prayer, for suddenly he heard cries of: "Victory! Victory! The enemy retreats!" Then some one jerked him by the arm, and told him to stand up and enjoy the victory; and finally some of the bystanders took pity on him, and lifted him up from his vertical position. But Sancho refused to enjoy any victory. All he asked for, he said, was that some one wipe the perspiration from his body, and give him some wine for his parched throat. When they had fulfilled this desire of his, they carried him to his chamber, were they put him to bed. Hardly had they got him to bed before he fainted away, overcome with excitement and governments.

The attendants sprinkled some water in the Governor's face, and he soon came back to life. The first thing he asked was what time it was. They replied it was early morning. He rose without saying a word, dressed himself in haste, and then went out to the stable, where they found him hanging round his Dapple's neck, kissing and embracing him, while tears were streaming down his face. Having swallowed the first flood of tears, the late squire addressed his faithful donkey in the tenderest and most heartrending terms, telling him that he should have stuck by him all the time, and not let himself be carried away by ambitions to become governor of islands.

Sancho then put the pack-saddle on Dapple's back, and mounted--a process of much pain--and from his dear confederate's back he addressed the majordomo and those of his staff who had followed him to the stable. "Make way," he said, "and let me go back to my old freedom; let me go look for my past life, and raise myself up from this present death. I was not born to be a governor or to protect islands or cities from the enemies that choose to attack them. Ploughing and digging, vine-dressing and pruning, are more in my way than defending provinces or kingdoms. Saint Peter is very well in Rome: I mean, each of us is best following the trade he was born to. I would rather have my fill of the simplest pot-luck than be subject to the misery of a meddling doctor who kills me with hunger; and I would rather lie in summer under the shade of an oak, and in winter wrap myself in a double sheepskin jacket in freedom, than to go to bed between Holland sheets and dress in sables under the restraint of a government. God be with your Worships! Tell my lord, the Duke, that naked was I born, naked I find myself, I neither lose nor gain: I mean that without a farthing I came into this government, and without a farthing I go out of it--very different from the way governors commonly leave other islands. Stand aside and let me go. I have to plaster myself, for I believe every one of my ribs is crushed, thanks to the enemies that have been trampling over me to-night."

Here the doctor offered to give the retiring governor a draught that would cure him of all pain. He also promised Sancho if he would stay he would behave better in the future, and give him as much to eat as he desired. But Sancho was not at a loss for an answer this time.

"You spoke late," said he. "I should as soon turn Turk as stay any longer. Those jokes will not pass a second time. By the Lord, I should as soon remain in this government, or take another one, even if it was offered me between two plates, as fly to heaven without wings. I am of the breed of Panzas, and they are every one of them obstinate, and if they once say odds, odds it must be, no matter if it is evens, in spite of all the world. Here in this stable I leave the ant's wings that lifted me up into the air for the swifts and other birds to eat them, and let us take to the level ground and our feet once more; and if they are not shod in pinked shoes of cordovan, they shall not want for rough sandals of hemp. Every ewe to her like and let no one stretch his leg beyond the length of the sheet. And now let me pass, for it is growing late with me."

After this meditation, strung with proverbs, the majordomo turned to Sancho and said that before he departed it was necessary that he render an account for the ten days that he had governed the island. But this was not Sancho's idea, and he quickly replied that he would seek out the Duke and give an accounting to him, for he was the only one to whom he was responsible. He added that as he would come to him naked, that would be the best proof that he had governed like an angel.

So they all agreed to let him proceed, for they were certain that the Duke would be delighted to see him. They offered him anything that he might need for the journey; but all Sancho asked for was some barley for his Dapple, and some bread and cheese for himself. Then they all bade him godspeed and embraced him; and Sancho, with tears in his eyes, took leave of them. The majordomo and the rest of Sancho's staff could not help thinking that he had displayed more sense than most men might have under the same circumstances; for when Sancho left his government he had earned their admiration for many and good reasons.

CHAPTERS LIV-LV

OF WHAT BEFELL SANCHO ON THE ROAD; AND OTHER THINGS THAT CANNOT BE SURPASSED

Sancho had almost reached the Duke's castle, when night suddenly fell and it grew so dark that he considered it best to stop where he was and remain there overnight. Accordingly he took Dapple off the road, and they went in search for some comfortable place where they could rest. Presently Sancho found himself among some old ruins, and as he was stumbling along he suddenly felt himself and Dapple falling deep into the earth. He thought it was going to be an endless journey, but when he struck bottom he discovered that nothing had happened to him or to his faithful donkey, for there he was, still mounted even.

Of course he was somewhat shaken by this sudden plunge into the lower regions, and taken aback; but as soon as he realized that he was unhurt he began to praise the Lord and to give thanks to him on behalf of himself and Dapple, who had burst into lamentations upon finding himself separated from meadow and green grass. Then Sancho began to look about for a way out, but he searched in vain, and it became plain to him that here he was buried alive. He thought of his master's descent into the cave of Montesinos, and was envious of Don Quixote's imagination which could conjure up so easily soft beds to sleep in and good food to eat. He could already see himself as a skeleton, and he shed a tear when he thought of having no one to close his or Dapple's eyes, when they had breathed their last breath.

All that night they sat there in somber reflection on the strange fates of man and beast; and when dawn came Sancho found that he was in a cave that had no outlet but which seemed to extend for miles underneath the ground. He crawled with Dapple from one cavern or compartment to another one; one dungeon was dark, the next one had a bit of flickering light; and as he proceeded he kept calling aloud, "God Almighty, help me!" at every step he took, fearing that he would be plunged still deeper into the insides of the earth, into still darker abysses. And then he wished that it had been his master instead of himself who had landed in this spot, for he was sure that Don Quixote would have welcomed such an adventure.

It so happened that Don Quixote was riding along the countryside that day on Rocinante, and suddenly his steed's hoof grazed against a hole in the earth. Rocinante might have fallen into the hole had not Don Quixote swiftly pulled in the reins and held him back. As the knight was passing, and about to continue on his journey, he turned in his seat to observe the spot well, and then he was startled by a cry that seemed to come from the depths of the earth and found an outlet through this pit. Still more startled he was, when he recognized the voice of his own squire Sancho! These were the words he heard: "Ho, above there! Is there any Christian that hears me, or any charitable gentleman that will take pity on a sinner buried alive, or an unfortunate, disgoverned governor?"

Of course it never entered our valiant knight's mind, devout Catholic that he was, that it was the voice of any Sancho Panza in the flesh. He thought that his devoted squire had suddenly met with death, and that his soul was now in Purgatory, and that it was from there that these sounds emanated. So he answered that he would do all in his power to have Sancho released from his pains.

This brought forth an emphatic and tearful denial from below. Sancho swore that he had never died in his life. As if to corroborate that his master was not a liar, Dapple at this moment brayed most tellingly, and Don Quixote believed everything that Dapple told him in that short space of time, for Don Quixote knew Dapple's braying as well as if he had been his father. The knight errant assured Sancho that he would get him out of his prison in a very short time, though he thought it best to return to the castle first and get some men to help him in the task. Sancho begged his master to hurry, for he was afraid unto death, and could not stand the thought of being buried there much longer.

As soon as the Duke heard what had happened to his governor, he was extremely surprised, for he had had no news from the island of Barataria about Sancho's departure. He sent men with ropes and tackle, and after much trouble they finally succeeded in hoisting Sancho and his beloved donkey out of the cave.

Surrounded by a crowd of children and others, they arrived at the castle, where the Duke was awaiting them; but Sancho would not present himself before him until he had seen that Dapple was being taken good care of in the stable. Then he went before the Duke, and as soon as the Duke had greeted him, Sancho commenced a speech that seemed to last forever, stuffed with proverbs galore. In it he related to the Duke everything that happened during the time he was governor, ending it thus: "I have come by the knowledge that I should not give anything to be a governor, not to say of an island, but of the whole world; and that point being settled, kissing your Worship's feet, and imitating the game of the boys when they say, 'Leap thou, and give me one,' I take a leap out of the government and pass into the service of my master Don Quixote. For after all, though in it I eat my bread in fear and trembling, at any rate I take my fill; and, for my part, so long as I am full, it is alike to me whether it is with carrots or with partridges."

When Sancho had finished his discourse Don Quixote was grateful, for he was constantly worried that his squire might say something that would cover both of them with discredit, and Sancho made no great blunders in his speech this time.

The Duke and the Duchess both embraced Sancho with warmth, and he was greatly touched when they told him that they would try to find him another position, less responsible but more profitable, on their estate; and they gave orders that he was to be well taken care of and his wounds and bruises properly and carefully bandaged.

CHAPTERS LVI-LVII

WHICH TREATS OF HOW DON QUIXOTE AGAIN FELT THE CALLING OF KNIGHT-ERRANTRY AND HOW HE TOOK LEAVE OF THE DUKE, AND OF WHAT FOLLOWED WITH THE WITTY AND IMPUDENT ALTISIDORA, ONE OF THE DUCHESS' DAMSELS

Again the feeling came over Don Quixote that he was wasting his life while he was staying at the castle in luxury and ease as the Duke's guest. Out yonder was the great, wide world in which adventures were calling to him all the time. So it finally came about that after much hesitation he requested of the Duke and his consort that they grant him his release. They gave it to him, although they were sorry to see him go, they said.

Early the following morning Sancho was soliloquizing in the courtyard of the castle, when suddenly Don Quixote appeared, in full regalia, ready to take to the road again for new adventures. The Duke and all in the castle were observing the departure from the corridors. Unobserved by Don Quixote, the majordomo gave Sancho a purse, in which he counted no less than two hundred gold crowns.

When knight and squire had mounted, the fair Altisidora declaimed with touching voice some verses of poetry which she had written in the night, and in which she bewailed her cruel fate that had thrust her in the path of the valorous Don Quixote. Each verse ended with a denunciation of his coldness toward her, and a curse upon him and his Dulcinea. Then the daring maiden had inserted lines in which she accused the innocent knight of having taken possession of three kerchiefs and a pair of garters belonging to her. Don Quixote blushed with perplexity, but his squire came to the rescue and said that he had the kerchiefs, but knew nothing about the garters. The Duke, who was well initiated in the joke, now rose and announced that it was beginning to seem like a serious matter; and if the knight had the garters and did not wish to part with them, he, the Duke, would have to defend the fair maiden's honor and challenge him to single combat.

Now Don Quixote was beside himself. Surely, he said, it would never occur to him, who had enjoyed such unbounded, superlative hospitality at the hands of one so illustrious as the Duke, to let such things come to pass as to bear arms against him; and he swore again by everything he could think of that he was innocent of what the maiden had inferred. Here the damsel gave a little shriek, and announced in a giggling voice that she had found the garters. Don Quixote was much relieved, and so seemed the Duke (though in reality both he and the Duchess were just about to burst from the pain that their own joke had inflicted upon them).

Now the knight errant could depart without any smudge or stain on his honor, and quickly and resolutely he gave Rocinante the spur, and his steed gathered all the strength he had and turned around. Gallantly saluting the Duke and the whole assembly with a sweep of his lance, Don Quixote set off on the road to Saragossa, followed by the retired governor, who sat on his Dapple's back as phlegmatically as if the two were grown together.