Don Quixote - Part I - Page 242/400

The last words of his master about not wanting to marry were so

disagreeable to Sancho that raising his voice he exclaimed with great

irritation:

"By my oath, Senor Don Quixote, you are not in your right senses; for how

can your worship possibly object to marrying such an exalted princess as

this? Do you think Fortune will offer you behind every stone such a piece

of luck as is offered you now? Is my lady Dulcinea fairer, perchance? Not

she; nor half as fair; and I will even go so far as to say she does not

come up to the shoe of this one here. A poor chance I have of getting

that county I am waiting for if your worship goes looking for dainties in

the bottom of the sea. In the devil's name, marry, marry, and take this

kingdom that comes to hand without any trouble, and when you are king

make me a marquis or governor of a province, and for the rest let the

devil take it all."

Don Quixote, when he heard such blasphemies uttered against his lady

Dulcinea, could not endure it, and lifting his pike, without saying

anything to Sancho or uttering a word, he gave him two such thwacks that

he brought him to the ground; and had it not been that Dorothea cried out

to him to spare him he would have no doubt taken his life on the spot.

"Do you think," he said to him after a pause, "you scurvy clown, that you

are to be always interfering with me, and that you are to be always

offending and I always pardoning? Don't fancy it, impious scoundrel, for

that beyond a doubt thou art, since thou hast set thy tongue going

against the peerless Dulcinea. Know you not, lout, vagabond, beggar, that

were it not for the might that she infuses into my arm I should not have

strength enough to kill a flea? Say, scoffer with a viper's tongue, what

think you has won this kingdom and cut off this giant's head and made you

a marquis (for all this I count as already accomplished and decided), but

the might of Dulcinea, employing my arm as the instrument of her

achievements? She fights in me and conquers in me, and I live and breathe

in her, and owe my life and being to her. O whoreson scoundrel, how

ungrateful you are, you see yourself raised from the dust of the earth to

be a titled lord, and the return you make for so great a benefit is to

speak evil of her who has conferred it upon you!"