Don Quixote - Part I - Page 43/400

The first thing he did was to clean up some armour that had belonged to

his great-grandfather, and had been for ages lying forgotten in a corner

eaten with rust and covered with mildew. He scoured and polished it as

best he could, but he perceived one great defect in it, that it had no

closed helmet, nothing but a simple morion. This deficiency, however, his

ingenuity supplied, for he contrived a kind of half-helmet of pasteboard

which, fitted on to the morion, looked like a whole one. It is true that,

in order to see if it was strong and fit to stand a cut, he drew his

sword and gave it a couple of slashes, the first of which undid in an

instant what had taken him a week to do. The ease with which he had

knocked it to pieces disconcerted him somewhat, and to guard against that

danger he set to work again, fixing bars of iron on the inside until he

was satisfied with its strength; and then, not caring to try any more

experiments with it, he passed it and adopted it as a helmet of the most

perfect construction.

He next proceeded to inspect his hack, which, with more quartos than a

real and more blemishes than the steed of Gonela, that "tantum pellis et

ossa fuit," surpassed in his eyes the Bucephalus of Alexander or the

Babieca of the Cid. Four days were spent in thinking what name to give

him, because (as he said to himself) it was not right that a horse

belonging to a knight so famous, and one with such merits of his own,

should be without some distinctive name, and he strove to adapt it so as

to indicate what he had been before belonging to a knight-errant, and

what he then was; for it was only reasonable that, his master taking a

new character, he should take a new name, and that it should be a

distinguished and full-sounding one, befitting the new order and calling

he was about to follow. And so, after having composed, struck out,

rejected, added to, unmade, and remade a multitude of names out of his

memory and fancy, he decided upon calling him Rocinante, a name, to his

thinking, lofty, sonorous, and significant of his condition as a hack

before he became what he now was, the first and foremost of all the hacks

in the world.

Having got a name for his horse so much to his taste, he was anxious to

get one for himself, and he was eight days more pondering over this

point, till at last he made up his mind to call himself "Don Quixote,"

whence, as has been already said, the authors of this veracious history

have inferred that his name must have been beyond a doubt Quixada, and

not Quesada as others would have it. Recollecting, however, that the

valiant Amadis was not content to call himself curtly Amadis and nothing

more, but added the name of his kingdom and country to make it famous,

and called himself Amadis of Gaul, he, like a good knight, resolved to

add on the name of his, and to style himself Don Quixote of La Mancha,

whereby, he considered, he described accurately his origin and country,

and did honour to it in taking his surname from it.