Wit and Wisdom of Don Quixote
And scattered clods that heap the ensanguined ground,
Three thousand souls of warriors, dead in fight,
To better regions took their happy flight.
Long with unconquered souls they bravely stood,
And fearless shed their unavailing blood:
Till, to superior force compelled to yield,
Their lives they quitted in the well-fought field.
This fatal soil has ever been the tomb
Of slaughtered heroes, buried in its womb:
Yet braver bodies did it ne'er sustain,
Nor send more glorious soul the skies to gain.
I.
Tossed in a sea of doubts and fears,
Love's hapless mariner, I sail,
Where no inviting port appears,
To screen me from the stormy gale.
II.
At distance viewed, a cheering star
Conducts me through the swelling tide;
A brighter luminary, far,
Than Palinurus o'er descried.
III.
My soul, attracted by its blaze,
Still follows where it points the way,
And while attentively I gaze,
Considers not how far I stray.
IV.
But female pride, reserved and shy,
Like clouds that deepen on the day,
Oft shroud it from my longing eye,
When most I need the genial ray.
V.
O lovely star, so pure and bright!
Whose splendor feeds my vital fire,
The moment thou deny'st thy light,
Thy lost adorer will expire!
SONG.
Unconquered hope, thou bane of fear,
And last deserter of the brave,
Thou soothing ease of mortal care,
Thou traveller beyond the grave;
Thou soul of patience, airy food,
Bold warrant of a distant good,
Reviving cordial, kind decoy;
Though fortune frowns and friends depart,
Though Silvia flies me, flattering joy,
Nor thou, nor love, shall leave my doting heart.
No slave, to lazy ease resigned,
E'er triumphed over noble foes;
The monarch fortune most is kind
To him who bravely dares oppose.
They say, Love rates his blessing high,
But who would prize an easy joy?
My scornful fair then I'll pursue,
Though the coy beauty still denies;
I grovel now on earth, 'tis true,
But, raised by her, the humble slave may rise.
Might overcomes.
Him to whom God giveth may St. Peter bless.
Diligence is the mother of success, and in many important
causes experience hath shown that the assiduity of the
solicitor hath brought a very doubtful suit to a very
fortunate issue; but the truth of this maxim is nowhere more
evinced than in war, where activity and despatch anticipate
the designs of the enemy, and obtain the victory before he
has time to put himself in a posture of defence.
The common adage that delays are dangerous acts as spurs
upon the resolution.
There are more tricks in the town than are dreamt of.
Virtue is always more persecuted by the wicked than beloved
by the righteous.
Virtue is so powerful that of herself she will, in spite of
all the necromancy possessed by the first inventor,
Zoroaster, come off conqueror in every severe trial, and
shine refulgent in the world, as the sun shines in the
heavens.
Fables should not be composed to outrage the understanding;
but by making the wonderful appear possible, and creating in
the mind a pleasing interest, they may both surprise and
entertain; which cannot be effected where no regard is paid
to probability. I have never yet found a regular,
well-connected fable in any of our books of chivalry--they
are all inconsistent and monstrous; the style is generally
bad; and they abound with incredible exploits, lascivious
amours, absurd sentiment, and miraculous adventures; in
short, they should be banished every Christian country.
Just are virtue's fears where envy domineers.
Bounty will not stay where niggards bear the sway.
Fortune turns faster than a mill-wheel, and those who were
yesterday at top, may find themselves at bottom to-day.
Every one is the son of his own works.
The mind receives pleasure from the beauty and consistency
of what is presented to the imagination, not from that which
is incongruous and unnatural.
Fiction is always the better the nearer it resembles truth,
and agreeable in proportion to the probability it bears and
the doubtful credit which it inspires. Wherefore, all such
fables ought to be suited to the understanding of those who
read them, and written so as that, by softening
impossibilities, smoothing what is rough, and keeping the
mind in suspense, they may surprise, agreeably perplex, and
entertain, creating equal admiration and delight; and these
never can be excited by authors who forsake probability and
imitation, in which the perfection of writing consists.
Epics may be written in prose as well as verse.
To assert that there never was an Amadis in the world, nor
any other of the knights-adventurers of whom so many records
remain, is to say that the sun does not enlighten, the frost
produce cold, nor the earth yield sustenance.
The approbation of the judicious few should far outweigh
the censure of the ignorant.
An author had better be applauded by the few that are wise,
than laughed at by the many that are foolish.
Our modern plays, not only those which are formed upon
fiction, but likewise such as are founded on the truth of
history, are all, or the greatest part, universally known to
be monstrous productions, without either head or tail, and
yet received with pleasure by the multitude, who approve and
esteem them as excellent performances, though they are far
from deserving that title; and if the authors who compose,
and the actors who represent them, affirm that this and no
other method is to be practised, because the multitude must
be pleased; that those which bear the marks of contrivance,
and produce a fable digested according to the rules of art,
serve only for entertainment to four or five people of
taste, who discern the beauties of the plan, which utterly
escape the rest of the audience; and that it is better for
them to gain a comfortable livelihood by the many, than
starve upon reputation with the few; at this rate, said I,
if I should finish my book, after having scorched every hair
in my whiskers in poring over it, to preserve those rules
and precepts already mentioned, I might fare at last like
the sagacious botcher, who sewed for nothing and found his
customers in thread.
It is not a sufficient excuse to say that the object in
permitting theatrical exhibitions being chiefly to provide
innocent recreation for the people, it is unnecessary to
limit and restrain the dramatic author within strict rules
of composition; for I affirm that the same object is, beyond
all comparison, more effectually attained by legitimate
works. The spectator of a good drama is amused, admonished,
and improved by what is diverting, affecting, and moral in
the representation; he is cautioned against deceit,
corrected by example, incensed against vice, stimulated to
the love of virtue.
Comedy, according to Tully, ought to be the mirror of life,
the exemplar of manners, and picture of truth; whereas those
that are represented in this age are mirrors of absurdity,
exemplars of folly, and pictures of lewdness; for sure,
nothing can be more absurd in a dramatic performance, than
to see the person, who, in the first scene of the first
act, was produced a child in swaddling-clothes, appear a
full-grown man with a beard in the second; or to represent
an old man active and valiant, a young soldier cowardly, a
footman eloquent, a page a counsellor, a king a porter, and
a princess a scullion. Then what shall we say concerning
their management of the time and place in which the actions
have, or may be supposed to have happened? I have seen a
comedy, the first act of which was laid in Europe, the
second in Asia, and the third was finished in Africa; nay,
had there been a fourth, the scene would have shifted to
America, so that the fable would have travelled through all
the four divisions of the globe. If imitation be the chief
aim of comedy, how can any ordinary understanding be
satisfied with seeing an action that passed in the time of
King Pepin and Charlemagne, ascribed to the Emperor
Heraclius, who, being the principal personage, is
represented, like Godfrey of Boulogne, carrying the cross
into Jerusalem, and making himself master of the holy
sepulchre, an infinite number of years having passed between
the one and the other? Or, when a comedy is founded upon
fiction, to see scraps of real history introduced, and facts
misrepresented both with regard to persons and times, not
with any ingenuity of contrivance, but with the most
manifest and inexcusable errors and stupidity; and what is
worst of all, there is a set of ignorant pretenders who call
this the perfection of writing, and that every attempt to
succeed by a contrary method is no other than a wild-goose
chase.
The bow cannot remain always bent; and relaxation, both of
body and mind, is indispensable to all.
Can you deny what is in everybody's mouth, when a person is
in the dumps? It is always then said, "I know not what such
a one ails--he neither eats, nor drinks, nor sleeps, nor
answers to the purpose, like other men--surely he is
enchanted." Wherefore, it is clear that such, and such only,
are enchanted who neither eat, nor drink, nor sleep, and not
they who eat and drink when they can get it, and answer
properly to all that is asked them.
The poor man is unable to exercise the virtue of liberality;
and the gratitude which consists only in inclination is a
dead thing, even as faith without works is dead. I shall,
therefore, rejoice when fortune presents me with an
opportunity of exalting myself, that I may show my heart in
conferring benefits on my friends, especially on poor Sancho
Panza here, my squire, who is one of the best men in the
world; and I would fain bestow on him an earldom, as I have
long since promised; although I am somewhat in doubt of his
ability in the government of his estate.
Sancho, overhearing his master's last words, said: "Take you the
trouble, Signor Don Quixote, to procure me that same earldom, which your
worship has so often promised, and I have been so long waiting for, and
you shall see that I shall not want ability to govern it. But even if I
should, there are people, I have heard say, who farm these lordships;
and paying the owners so much a year, take upon themselves the
government of the whole, while his lordship lolls at his ease, enjoying
his estate, without concerning himself any further about it. Just so
will I do, and give myself no more trouble than needs mast, but enjoy
myself like any duke, and let the world rub."
"This, brother Sancho," said the canon, "may be done, as far as regards
the management of your revenue; but the administration of justice must
be attended to by the lord himself, and requires capacity, judgment,
and, above all, an upright intention, without which nothing prospers;
for Heaven assists the good intent of the simple, and disappoints the
evil designs of the cunning."
"I do not understand these philosophies," answered Sancho; "all that I
know is, that I wish I may as surely have the earldom as I should know
how to govern it; for I have as large a soul as another, and as large a
body as the best of them; and I should be as much king of my own
dominion as any other king; would do what I pleased; and, doing what I
pleased, I should have my will; and having my will, I should be
contented; and, being content, there is no more to be desired; and when
there is no more to desire, there is an end of it."