Page 101 of Don Quixote


  There are no olives this year, and there's not a drop of vinegar to be found anywhere in the village. A company of soldiers came through here and took three village girls away with them; I don't want to tell you who they are: maybe they'll come back, and there's bound to be somebody who'll marry them, with their good or bad qualities.

  Sanchica is making lace trimming; she earns eight maravedis a day free and clear, and she's putting them in a money box to help with her dowry, but now that she's the daughter of a governor, you'll give her a dowry and she won't have to work for it. The fountain in the square dried up; lightning hit the pillory, which doesn't bother me at all.

  I'm waiting for your answer to this letter, and a decision about my going to court; and with this, may God grant you more years than He does me, or as many, because I wouldn't want to leave you without me in this world.

  Your wife,

  TERESA PANZA

  The letters were celebrated, laughed at, approved, and admired; as a final touch, the courier arrived with the letter Sancho had sent to Don Quixote, which was also read publicly, casting doubt on the foolishness of the governor.

  The duchess withdrew in order to learn from the page what had occurred in Sancho's village, which he recounted to her in great detail, not failing to relate every circumstance; he gave her the acorns, as well as a cheese that Teresa had given him because it was very good, even better than the ones from Tronchon.3 The duchess received it with the greatest pleasure, and with that we shall leave her in order to recount the end of the governorship of the great Sancho Panza, the flower and model of all insular governors.

  CHAPTER LIII

  Regarding the troubled end and conclusion of the governorship of Sancho Panza

  To believe that the things of this life will endure forever, unchanged, is to believe the impossible; it seems instead that everything goes around, I mean around in a circle: spring pursues summer, summer pursues estio, 1 estio pursues autumn, autumn pursues winter, and winter pursues spring, and in this way time turns around a continuous wheel; only human life races to its end more quickly than time, with no hope for renewal except in the next life, which has no boundaries that limit it. So says Cide Hamete, a Muslim philosopher, because an understanding of the fleeting impermanence of our present life, and the everlasting nature of the eternal life that awaits us, has been grasped by many without the enlightenment of faith but with only the light of their natural intelligence; but here our author says this because of the speed with which the governorship of Sancho ended, evaporated, dissolved, and disappeared in shadow and smoke.

  Sancho was in bed on the seventh night of the days of his governorship, full not of bread or wine, but of judging and giving opinions and issuing statutes and decrees, when sleep, notwithstanding and despite his hunger, began to close his eyes, and he heard such a great noise of bells ringing and voices shouting that it seemed as if the entire insula were being destroyed. He sat up in bed, listening attentively to see if he could learn what the cause might be of so much tumult; not only did he fail, but the sound of infinite trumpets and drums was added to the clamor of shouts and bells, leaving him more confused, and more full of fear and consternation; getting out of bed, he put on slippers because the floor was damp, and not bothering with a robe or anything resembling one, he went to the door of his room just in time to see more than twenty persons coming along the corridors, carrying burning torches and holding unsheathed swords in their hands, all of them shouting in loud voices:

  "To arms, to arms, Senor Governor, to arms! Infinite enemies have entered the insula, and we are lost if your ingenuity and valor do not come to our aid!"

  Clamorous, frenzied, in an uproar, they approached the place where Sancho was standing, astonished and stupefied at what he was hearing and seeing, and when they had reached him one of them said:

  "Arm yourself immediately, your lordship, or else you will be lost along with the entire insula!"

  "What do I have to do with arming?" responded Sancho. "And what do I know about arms or coming to anybody's aid? These things are better left to my master, Don Quixote, who in the wink of an eye would dispatch and see to them. But I, sinner that I am, I don't know anything about this kind of battle."

  "Ah, Senor Governor!" said another. "What reluctance is this? Arm yourself, your grace, for we bring you both offensive and defensive weapons, and go out to the square, and be our guide and our captain, for by right that is your duty, being our governor."

  "Then arm me, and may it be for the best," replied Sancho.

  And they immediately brought two full-length shields that they had been carrying and placed them over his nightshirt, not allowing him to put on any other clothing, one shield in front and the other behind, and they pulled his arms through some space they had made, and tied the shields on very carefully with cords, leaving him walled in and boarded up, as straight as a spindle and unable to bend his knees or take a single step. In his hands they placed a lance, which he leaned on in order to keep his balance. When they had him in this state, they told him to walk, and lead them, and encourage them all, for with him as their polestar, their lighthouse, and their lamp, their affairs would have a happy conclusion.

  "Wretch that I am, how can I walk," responded Sancho. "when I can't move my kneecaps because of these boards sewed up so tight against my body? What you'll have to do is carry me in your arms and lay me down or stand me up at some postern gate, and I'll guard it either with this lance or with my body."

  "Go on, Senor Governor," said another man, "it's fear more than boards that keeps you from walking; put an end to this, and start to move, for it's late, our enemies are increasing, their shouts are becoming louder, and the danger is growing."

  Their persuasion and insults prodded the poor governor into moving, and he fell to the ground with such force that he thought he had broken into pieces. He lay there like a giant turtle enclosed and covered by its shells, or like half a side of bacon held between two salting-boards, or even like a boat lying upside down in the sand, but not even when they saw that he had fallen did those mockers have any compassion for him; instead, they put out the torches and shouted even louder, repeating the call to arms with such urgency, and running over poor Sancho and stamping so hard on the shields, that if he had not retreated and pulled back, drawing his head inside the shields, things would have gone very badly for the poor governor who, enclosed in that narrow space, sweated and perspired and with all his heart commended himself to God, praying that He deliver him from that danger.

  Some stumbled over him, others fell, and one even stood on top of him for a long while, and from there, as if from a watchtower, he commanded the armies and shouted in a loud voice, saying:

  "Our men here, the enemy is pressing hard over here! Guard that opening, close that gate, down with those ladders! Bring the pitch-pots,2 the tar and resin in cauldrons of burning oil! Barricade the streets with mattresses!"

  In short, he named with great zeal all the implements and instruments and tools of war used to prevent an attack on a city, and the battered Sancho, who heard and suffered it all, said to himself:

  "Oh, if only Our Lord would put an end to the loss of this insula, and I would find myself dead or free of this affliction!"

  Heaven heard his prayer, and when he least expected it, he heard voices shouting:

  "Victory, victory! The enemy is retreating! Oh, Senor Governor, your grace should get up and come enjoy the conquest and divide the spoils taken from the enemy by the valor of that invincible arm!"

  "Pick me up," the dolorous Sancho said in a doleful voice.

  They helped him to his feet, and when he was standing he said:

  "The enemy that I've conquered I want you to nail to my forehead. I don't want to divide the enemy's spoils, but I beg and implore some friend, if I have any, to give me a drink of wine and wipe away and dry this sweat, because I'm turning into water."

  They dried him, brought him wine, and untied the shields, and he sat on his
bed and fainted from fear, shock, and alarm. Those who had deceived him regretted having carried the joke so far, but Sancho's return to consciousness tempered the regret caused by his swoon. He asked the time; they responded that dawn had broken. He fell silent, and without saying another word he began to dress, deep in silence, and everyone watched him, waiting to see what the outcome would be of his dressing so urgently. Finally he was dressed, and very slowly, because he was bruised and could not move quickly, he went to the stable, followed by everyone present, and when he reached the gray he embraced him and gave him a kiss of peace on the forehead, and, not without tears in his eyes, he said:

  "Come here, my companion and friend, comrade in all my sufferings and woes: when I spent time with you and had no other thoughts but mending your harness and feeding your body, then my hours, my days, and my years were happy, but after I left you and climbed the towers of ambition and pride, a thousand miseries, a thousand troubles, and four thousand worries have entered deep into my soul."

  As he was saying these words, he was also saddling his donkey, and no one said anything to him. And when the donkey was saddled, with great sadness and sorrow he mounted him, and directing his words and thoughts to the steward, the secretary, the butler, the physician Pedro Recio, and the many others who were present, he said:

  "Make way, Senores, and let me return to my old liberty; let me go and find my past life, so that I can come back from this present death. I was not born to be a governor, or to defend insulas or cities from enemies who want to attack them. I have a better understanding of plowing and digging, of pruning and layering the vines, than of making laws or defending provinces and kingdoms. St. Peter's fine in Rome: I mean, each man is fine doing the work he was born for. I'm better off with a scythe in my hand than a governor's scepter; I'd rather eat my fill of gazpacho than suffer the misery of a brazen doctor who starves me to death, and I'd rather lie down in the shade of an oak tree in summer and wrap myself in an old bald sheepskin in winter, in freedom, than lie between linen sheets and wear sables, subject to a governorship. God keep your graces, and tell my lord the duke that I was born naked, and I'm naked now: I haven't lost or gained a thing; I mean, I came into this governorship without a blanca, and I'm leaving without one, which is very different from how the governors of other insulas leave. Now move aside and let me go: I'll apply some poultices, because I think all my ribs are crushed, thanks to the enemies who ran over me tonight."

  "It must not be like this, Senor Governor," said Dr. Recio, "for I shall give your grace a potion against falls and bruising, which will return you to your former well-being and vigor; as for food, I promise your grace to mend my ways and allow you to eat as much as you want of anything you like."

  "You peeped too late!"4 responded Sancho. "I'd sooner become a Turk than not leave. These aren't tricks you can play twice. By God, I'm as likely to stay here, or accept another governorship, even if they handed it to me on a platter, as I am to fly up to heaven without wings. I'm from the lineage of the Panzas, and they're all stubborn, and if they say odds once, odds it'll be, even if it's evens, no matter what anybody says. Here in this stable I'll leave the wings on the ant that carried me into the air where the martins and other birds could eat me, and I'll go back to walking on my feet on level ground, and if they're not adorned with cutout shoes5 of Cordoban leather, they won't lack for sandals made of hemp. Every sheep with its mate, and let no man stretch his leg farther than the length of the sheet, and now let me pass, it's getting late."

  To which the steward said:

  "Senor Governor, we would very gladly let your grace pass, though it saddens us greatly to lose you, for your wit and Christian behavior oblige us to want to keep you; but as everyone knows, every governor is obliged, before he abandons the place he has governed, to give an accounting of his governorship: your grace, give us one for the ten days in which you have held the governorship, and then go and God's peace go with you."

  "No one can ask that of me," responded Sancho, "unless he is ordered to by my lord the duke; I'm going to see him, and I'll give an exact accounting to him; besides, leaving naked, as I am, no other proof is necessary to show that I governed like an angel."

  "By God, the great Sancho is correct," said Dr. Recio, "and I am of the opinion that we should let him leave, because the duke will surely be overjoyed to see him."

  They all agreed, and allowed him to go, first offering to accompany him and to give him everything he might want for the gratification of his person and the comfort of his journey. Sancho said he wanted no more than a little barley for his donkey, and half a cheese and half a loaf of bread for himself; since the way was so short, there was no need for more or better provisions. Everyone embraced him, and he, weeping, embraced all of them, and he left them marveling not only at his words but at his decision, which was so resolute and intelligent.

  CHAPTER LIV

  Which deals with matters related to this history and to no other

  The duke and duchess resolved that Don Quixote's challenge to their vassal for the reason already recounted should go forward, and since the young man was in Flanders, where he had fled so as not to have Dona Rodriguez for a mother-in-law, they ordered a Gascon footman named Tosilos to appear in his place, first instructing him very carefully in everything he had to do.

  Two days later, the duke told Don Quixote that in four days his opponent would come to present himself in the field, armed as a knight, to maintain that the maiden was lying through some, if not all, of her teeth1 if she affirmed he had given her a promise of marriage. Don Quixote was very happy to hear the news, and he promised himself to perform miracles in this matter, and he considered it very fortunate that an opportunity had presented itself that would allow the duke and duchess to see the extent of the valor of his mighty arm; and so, with joy and delight, he waited for the four days to pass, although if reckoned by his desire, they had become four hundred centuries.

  Let us allow them to pass, as we have allowed other things to pass, and accompany Sancho, who was both happy and sad as he came riding on the gray to find his master, whose companionship pleased him more than being governor of all the insulas in the world.

  He had not gone very far from the insula of his governorship--he had never bothered to find out if it was an island, city, town, or village that he was governing--when he saw coming toward him along the road six pilgrims with their staffs,2 the kind of foreign pilgrims who beg for alms by singing, and as they approached him they arranged themselves in a row, lifted their voices, and began to sing in their own language, which Sancho could not understand except for the one word alms, which was clearly pronounced, and then he understood that in their song they were asking for alms; since he, as Cide Hamete says, was excessively charitable, he took from his saddlebags his provisions of half a loaf of bread and half a cheese, which he offered to the pilgrims, indicating by signs that he had nothing else to give. They accepted the food very gladly and said:

  "Geld! Geld!" 3

  "I don't understand," responded Sancho, "what you're asking of me, good people."

  Then one of them took a purse from his shirt and showed it to Sancho, who then understood that they were asking for money, and he, placing his thumb on his throat and extending his hand upward, gave them to understand that he did not have any money at all; and spurring the donkey, he broke through the line, and as he passed, a pilgrim who had been looking at him very carefully rushed toward him, threw his arms around his waist, and said in a loud and very Castilian voice:

  "God save me! What do I see? Is it possible that I have my arms around my dear friend and good neighbor Sancho Panza? I do, no doubt about it, because I'm not asleep or drunk now."

  Sancho was amazed to hear himself called by name and to find himself embraced by a foreign pilgrim, and he looked at him very carefully, not saying a word, but did not recognize him; the pilgrim, however, seeing his bewilderment, said:

  "How is it possible, my brother Sancho Panza,
that you don't know your neighbor Ricote the Morisco,4 a shopkeeper in your village?"

  Then Sancho looked at him even more closely, and began to recognize his face, and finally knew exactly who he was, and without dismounting, Sancho threw his arms around the man's neck and said:

  "Who the devil could recognize you, Ricote, in the ridiculous disguise you're wearing? Tell me, who turned you into a foreigner, and why did you risk coming back to Spain? It'll be very dangerous for you if they catch you and recognize you."

  "If you don't give me away, Sancho," responded the pilgrim, "I'm sure nobody will know me in these clothes; let's move off the road to that grove of poplars where my companions want to eat and rest, and you can eat with them, for they're very peaceable people. I'll have a chance to tell you what happened to me after I left our village, obeying His Majesty's proclamation that threatened the unfortunate members of my race so severely, as you must have heard."5

  Sancho agreed, and after Ricote spoke to the other pilgrims, they set out for the grove of poplars that could be seen at some distance from the king's highway. They threw down their staffs, took off their hooded cloaks or capes, and remained in their shirtsleeves; they were all young and good-looking except for Ricote, who was a man well on in years. All of them carried traveling bags, and all of these, it seemed, were well-provisioned, at least with things that call up and summon a thirst from two leagues away.

  They stretched out on the ground, and with the grass as their tablecloth, they set out bread, salt, knives, nuts, pieces of cheese, and bare ham-bones that could not be gnawed but could still be sucked. They also set out a black food called cabial 6 that is made of fish eggs and is a great awakener of thirst. There was no lack of olives, dried without any brine but good-tasting and flavorful. What stood out most on the field of that banquet, however, were six wineskins, for each of them took one out of his bag; even the good Ricote, transformed from a Morisco into a German or Teuton, took out his own wineskin, comparable in size to the other five.