Wit and Wisdom of Don Quixote
wood-cutters with hooks and hatchets, he is very much mistaken. I,
Signor Sampson, do not set up for being the most valiant, but the best
and most faithful squire that ever served knight-errant; and if my lord
Don Quixote, in consideration of my many and good services, shall please
to bestow on me some one of the many islands his worship says he shall
light upon, I shall be much beholden to him for the favor; and if he
give me none, here I am, and it is better to trust God than each other;
and mayhap my government bread might not go down so sweet as that which
I should eat without it; and how? do I know but the devil, in one of
these governments, might set up a stumbling-block in my way, over which
I might fall, and dash out my grinders? Sancho I was born, and Sancho I
expect to die; yet for all that, if, fairly and squarely, without much
care or much risk, Heaven should chance to throw an island, or some such
thing, in my way, I am not such a fool neither as to refuse it; for, as
the saying is, 'when the heifer is offered, be ready with the rope.'"
When good fortune knocks, make haste to bid her welcome.
"Brother Sancho," quoth the bachelor, "you have spoken like any
professor; nevertheless, trust in Heaven and Signor Don Quixote, and
then you may get not only an island but even a kingdom."
"One as likely as the other," answered Sancho, "though I could tell
Signor Carrasco that my master will not throw the kingdom he gives me
into a rotten sack; for I have felt my pulse, and find myself strong
enough to rule kingdoms and govern islands; and so much I have signified
before now to my master."
"Take heed, Sancho," quoth the bachelor, "for honors change manners; and
it may come to pass, when you are a governor, that you may not know even
your own mother."
"That," answered Sancho, "may be the case with those that are born among
the mallows, but not with one whose soul, like mine, is covered four
inches thick with the grace of an old Christian. No, no, I am not one of
the ungrateful sort."
"Heaven grant it," said Don Quixote; "but we shall see when the
government comes, and methinks I have it already in my eye."
Sancho went home in such high spirits that his wife observed his gayety
a bow-shot off, insomuch that she could not help saying, "What makes you
look so blithe, friend Sancho?"
To which he answered: "Would to Heaven, dear wife, I were not so well
pleased as I seem to be!"
"I know not what you mean, husband," replied she, "by saying you wish
you were not so much pleased; now, silly as I am, I cannot guess how any
one can desire not to be pleased."
"Look you, Teresa," answered Sancho, "I am thus merry because I am
about to return to the service of my master, Don Quixote, who is going
again in search after adventures, and I am to accompany him, for so my
fate wills it. Besides, I am merry with the hopes of finding another
hundred crowns like those we have spent, though it grieves me to part
from you and my children; and if Heaven would be pleased to give me
bread, dryshod and at home, without dragging me over crags and
cross-paths, it is plain that my joy would be better grounded, since it
is now mingled with sorrow for leaving you; so that I was right in
saying that I should be glad if it pleased Heaven I were not so Well
pleased."
"Look you, Sancho," replied Teresa, "ever since you have been a
knight-errant man you talk in such a roundabout manner that nobody can
understand you."
"It is enough, wife," said Sancho, "that God understands me, for He is
the understander of all things; and so much for that. And do you hear,
wife, it behooves you to take special care of Dapple for these three or
four days to come, that he may be in a condition to bear arms; so double
his allowance, and get the pack-saddle in order and the rest of his
tackling, for we are not going to a wedding, but to roam about the world
and to give and take with giants, fiery dragons, and goblins, and to
hear hissings, roarings, bellowings, and bleatings, all which would be
but flowers of lavender if we had not to do with Yangueses and enchanted
Moors."
"I believe, indeed, husband," replied Teresa, "that your squires-errant
do not eat their bread for nothing, and therefore I shall not fail to
beseech Heaven to deliver you speedily from so much evil hap."
"I tell you, wife," answered Sancho, "that did I not expect, ere long,
to see myself governor of an island, I vow I should drop down dead upon
the spot."
"Not so, good husband," quoth Teresa, "let the hen live, though it be
with the pip. Do you live, and the devil take all the governments in the
world! Without a government you came into the world, without a
government you have lived till now, and without it you can be carried to
your grave whenever it shall please God. How many folks are there in the
world that have no government! and yet they live and are reckoned among
the people. The best sauce in the world is hunger, and as that is never
wanting to the poor, they always eat with a relish. But if, perchance,
Sancho, you should get a government, do not forget me and your children.
Consider that your son Sancho is just fifteen years old, and it is fit
he should go to school if his uncle the abbot means to breed him up to
the church. Consider, also, that Mary Sancha, your daughter, will not
break her heart if we marry her; for I am mistaken if she has not as
much mind to a husband as you have to a government. And verily say I,
better a daughter but humbly married than highly kept."
"In good faith, dear wife," said Sancho, "if Heaven be so good to me
that I get anything like a government, I will match Mary Sancha so
highly that there will be no coming near her without calling her your
ladyship."
"Not so, Sancho," answered Teresa, "the best way is to marry her to her
equal; for if you lift her from clouted shoes to high heels, and
instead of her russet coat of fourteenpenny stuff, give her a
farthingale and petticoats of silk, and instead of plain Molly and thou
she be called madam and your ladyship, the girl will not know where she
is and will fall into a thousand mistakes at every step, showing her
homespun country stuff."
"Peace, fool!" quoth Sancho, "she has only to practise two or three
years and the gravity will set upon her as if it were made for her; and
if not, what matters it? Let her be a lady, and come of it what will."
"Measure yourself by your condition, Sancho," answered Teresa, "and do
not seek to raise yourself higher, but remember the proverb, 'Wipe your
neighbor's son's nose and take him into your house.' It would be a
pretty business, truly, to marry our Mary to some great count or knight,
who, when the fancy takes him, would look upon her as some strange
thing, and be calling her country-wench, clod-breaker's brat, and I know
not what else. No, not while I live, husband; I have not brought up my
child to be so used. Do you provide money, Sancho, and leave the
matching of her to my care; for there is Lope Tocho, John Tocho's son, a
lusty, hale young man, whom we know, and I am sure he has a sneaking
kindness for the girl. To him she will be very well married, considering
he is our equal, and will be always under our eye; and we shall be all
as one, parents and children, grandsons and sons-in-law, and so the
peace and blessing of Heaven will be among us all; and do not you be for
marrying her at your courts and great palaces, where they will neither
understand her nor she understand herself."
"Hark you, beast, and wife for Barabbas," replied Sancho, "why would you
now, without rhyme or reason, hinder me from marrying my daughter with
one who may bring me grandchildren that may be styled your lordships?
Look you, Teresa, I have always heard my betters say, 'He that will not
when he may, when he will he shall have nay'; and it would be wrong, now
that fortune is knocking at our door, not to open it and bid her
welcome. Let us spread our sail to the favorable gale, now that it
blows.' ... Can't you perceive, animal, with half an eye," proceeded
Sancho, "that I shall act wisely, in devoting this body of mine to some
beneficial government that will lift us out of the dirt, and enable me
to match Mary Sancha according to my own good pleasure; then wilt thou
hear thyself called Donna Teresa Panza, and find thyself seated at
church upon carpets, cushions, and tapestry, in despite and defiance of
all the small gentry in the parish; and not be always in the same moping
circumstances, without increase or diminution, like a picture in the
hangings. But no more of this; Sanchica shall be a countess, though thou
shouldst cry thy heart out."
"Look before you leap, husband," answered Teresa; "after all, I wish to
God this quality of my daughter may not be the cause of her perdition;
take your own way, and make her duchess or princess, or what you please;
but I'll assure you it shall never be with my consent or good-will; I
was always a lover of equality, my dear, and can't bear to see people
hold their heads high without reason. Teresa was I christened, a bare
and simple name, without the addition, garniture, and embroidery of Don
or Donna; my father's name is Cascajo, and mine, as being your spouse,
Teresa Panza, though by rights I should be called Teresa Cascajo; but as
the king minds, the law binds; and with that name am I contented, though
it be not burdened with a Don, which weighs so heavy that I should not
be able to bear it. Neither will I put it in the power of those who see
me dressed like a countess or governor's lady, to say: 'Mind Mrs.
Porkfeeder, how proud she looks! it was but yesterday she toiled hard at
the distaff, and went to mass with the tail of her gown about her head,
instead of a veil; but now, forsooth, she has got her fine farthingales
and jewels, and holds up her head as if we did not know her.' If God
preserves me in my seven or five senses, or as many as they be, I shall
never bring myself into such a quandary. As for your part, spouse, you
may go to your governments and islands, and be as proud as a peacock;
but as for my daughter and me, by the life of my father! we will not
stir one step from the village; for, the wife that deserves a good name,
stays at home as if she were lame; and the maid must be still a-doing,
that hopes to see the men come awooing."
He that covers, discovers.
The poor man is scarcely looked at, while every eye is
turned upon the rich; and if the poor man grows rich and
great, then I warrant you there is work enough for your
grumblers and backbiters, who swarm everywhere like bees.
"The first time, he was brought home to us laid athwart an
ass, all battered and bruised. The second time he returned
in an ox-wagon, locked up in a cage, and so changed, poor
soul, that his own mother would not have known him; so
feeble, wan, and withered, and his eyes sunk into the
farthest corner of his brains, insomuch that it took me
above six hundred eggs to get him a little up again, as
Heaven and the world is my witness, and my hens, that will
not let me lie."
"I can easily believe that," answered the bachelor; "for
your hens are too well bred and fed to say one thing and
mean another."
All objects present to the view exist, and are impressed
upon the imagination with much greater energy and force,
than those which we only remember to have seen.
When we see any person finely dressed, and set off with rich
apparel and with a train of servants, we are moved to show
him respect; for, though we cannot but remember certain
scurvy matters either of poverty or parentage, that formerly
belonged to him, but which being long gone by are almost
forgotten, we only think of what we see before our eyes. And