Don Quixote - Part I - Page 395/400

"I will say it in one," replied Don Quixote, "and it is this; that at

once, this very instant, ye release that fair lady whose tears and sad

aspect show plainly that ye are carrying her off against her will, and

that ye have committed some scandalous outrage against her; and I, who

was born into the world to redress all such like wrongs, will not permit

you to advance another step until you have restored to her the liberty

she pines for and deserves."

From these words all the hearers concluded that he must be a madman, and

began to laugh heartily, and their laughter acted like gunpowder on Don

Quixote's fury, for drawing his sword without another word he made a rush

at the stand. One of those who supported it, leaving the burden to his

comrades, advanced to meet him, flourishing a forked stick that he had

for propping up the stand when resting, and with this he caught a mighty

cut Don Quixote made at him that severed it in two; but with the portion

that remained in his hand he dealt such a thwack on the shoulder of Don

Quixote's sword arm (which the buckler could not protect against the

clownish assault) that poor Don Quixote came to the ground in a sad

plight.

Sancho Panza, who was coming on close behind puffing and blowing, seeing

him fall, cried out to his assailant not to strike him again, for he was

poor enchanted knight, who had never harmed anyone all the days of his

life; but what checked the clown was, not Sancho's shouting, but seeing

that Don Quixote did not stir hand or foot; and so, fancying he had

killed him, he hastily hitched up his tunic under his girdle and took to

his heels across the country like a deer.

By this time all Don Quixote's companions had come up to where he lay;

but the processionists seeing them come running, and with them the

officers of the Brotherhood with their crossbows, apprehended mischief,

and clustering round the image, raised their hoods, and grasped their

scourges, as the priests did their tapers, and awaited the attack,

resolved to defend themselves and even to take the offensive against

their assailants if they could. Fortune, however, arranged the matter

better than they expected, for all Sancho did was to fling himself on his

master's body, raising over him the most doleful and laughable

lamentation that ever was heard, for he believed he was dead. The curate

was known to another curate who walked in the procession, and their

recognition of one another set at rest the apprehensions of both parties;

the first then told the other in two words who Don Quixote was, and he

and the whole troop of penitents went to see if the poor gentleman was

dead, and heard Sancho Panza saying, with tears in his eyes, "Oh flower

of chivalry, that with one blow of a stick hast ended the course of thy

well-spent life! Oh pride of thy race, honour and glory of all La Mancha,

nay, of all the world, that for want of thee will be full of evil-doers,

no longer in fear of punishment for their misdeeds! Oh thou, generous

above all the Alexanders, since for only eight months of service thou

hast given me the best island the sea girds or surrounds! Humble with the

proud, haughty with the humble, encounterer of dangers, endurer of

outrages, enamoured without reason, imitator of the good, scourge of the

wicked, enemy of the mean, in short, knight-errant, which is all that can

be said!"