Wit and Wisdom of Don Quixote
Que es puerto en este mar de mi tormento,
Tanta alegria siento,
Que la vida se esfuerza, y no le paso.
Asi el vivir me mata,
Que la muerte me torna a dar la vida.
O condicion no oida,
La que conmigo muerte y vida trata!
O love! when, sick of heart-felt grief,
I sigh, and drag thy cruel chain,
To death I fly, the sure relief
Of those who groan in lingering pain.
But coming to the fatal gates,
The port in this my sea of woe,
The joy I feel new life creates,
And bids my spirits brisker flow.
Thus dying every hour I live,
And living I resign my breath.
Strange power of love, that thus can give
A dying life and living death!
Till Heaven, in pity to the weeping world,
Shall give Altisidora back to day,
By Quixote's scorn to realms of Pluto hurled,
Her every charm to cruel death a prey;
While matrons throw their gorgeous robes away,
To mourn a nymph by cold disdain betrayed:
To the complaining lyre's enchanting lay
I'll sing the praises of this hapless maid,
In sweeter notes than Thracian Orpheus ever played.
Nor shall my numbers with my life expire,
Or this world's light confine the boundless song:
To thee, bright maid, in death I'll touch the lyre,
And to my soul the theme shall still belong.
When, freed from clay, the flitting ghosts among,
My spirit glides the Stygian shores around,
Though the cold hand of death has sealed my tongue,
Thy praise the infernal caverns shall rebound,
And Lethe's sluggish waves move slower to the sound.
Better kill me outright than break my back with other men's
burdens.
Sleep is the best cure for waking troubles.
Devils, play or not play, win or not win, can never be
content.
History that is good, faithful, and true, will survive for
ages; but should it have none of these qualities, its
passage will be short between the cradle and the grave.
As for dying for love, it is all a jest; your lovers,
indeed, may easily say they are dying, but that they will
actually give up the ghost, believe it--Judas.
"Madam," said he, "your ladyship should know that the chief cause of
this good damsel's suffering is idleness, the remedy whereof is honest
and constant employment. Lace, she tells me, is much worn in purgatory,
and since she cannot but know how to make it, let her stick to that;
for, while her fingers are assiduously employed with her bobbins, the
images that now haunt her imagination will keep aloof, and leave her
mind tranquil and happy. This, madam, is my opinion and advice."
"And mine, too," added Sancho, "for I never in my life heard of a
lacemaker that died for love; for your damsels that bestir themselves at
some honest labor think more of their work than of their sweethearts. I
know it by myself; when I am digging, I never think of my Teresa,
though, God bless her! I love her more than my very eyelids."
Railing among lovers is the next neighbor to forgiveness.
The ass will carry the load, but not a double load.
When money's paid before it's due,
A broken limb will straight ensue.
Delay breeds danger.
Pray to God devoutly,
And hammer away stoutly.
A sparrow in the hand is worth an eagle on the wing.
"No more proverbs, for God's sake," quoth Don Quixote, "for, methinks,
Sancho, thou art losing ground, and returning to _sicut erat_. Speak
plainly, as I have often told thee, and thou wilt find it worth a loaf
per cent to thee."
"I know not how I came by this unlucky trick," replied Sancho: "I cannot
bring you in three words to the purpose without a proverb, nor give you
a proverb which, to my thinking, is not to the purpose;--but I will try
to mend."
The straw is too hard to make pipes of.
The knight and squire ascended a little eminence, whence they discovered
their village; which Sancho no sooner beheld than, kneeling down, he
said: "Open thine eyes, O my beloved country! and behold thy son, Sancho
Panza, returning to thee again, if not rich, yet well whipped! Open
thine arms, and receive thy son Don Quixote, too! who, though worsted by
another, has conquered himself, which, as I have heard say, is the best
kind of victory! Money I have gotten, and though I have been soundly
banged, I have come off like a gentleman."
"Leave these fooleries, Sancho," quoth Don Quixote, "and let us go
directly to our homes, where we will give full scope to our imagination,
and settle our intended scheme of a pastoral life."
It must here be mentioned that Sancho Panza, by way of sumpter-cloth,
had thrown the buckram robe painted with flames, which he had worn on
the night of Altisidora's revival, upon his ass. He likewise clapped the
mitre on Dapple's head,--in short, never was an ass so honored and
bedizened. The priest and bachelor, immediately recognizing their
friends, ran toward them with open arms. Don Quixote alighted, and
embraced them cordially. In the mean time, the boys, whose keen eyes
nothing can escape, came flocking from all parts.
"Ho!" cries one, "here comes Sancho Panza's ass, as gay as a parrot, and
Don Quixote's old horse, leaner than ever!"
Thus, surrounded by the children and accompanied by the priest and the
bachelor, they proceeded through the village till they arrived at Don
Quixote's house, where, at the door, they found the housekeeper and the
niece, who had already heard of his arrival. It had likewise reached the
ears of Sancho's wife, Teresa, who, half-naked, with her hair about her
ears, and dragging Sanchica after her, ran to meet her husband; and
seeing him not so well equipped as she thought a governor ought to be,
she said: "What makes you come thus, dear husband? methinks you come
afoot and foundered! This, I trow, is not as a governor should look."
"Peace, wife," quoth Sancho; "the bacon is not so easily found as the
pin to hang it on. Let us go home, and there you shall hear wonders. I
have got money, and honestly, too, without wronging anybody."
"Hast thou got money, good husband? Nay, then, 't is well, however it
be gotten; for, well or ill, it will have brought up no new custom in
the world."
All things human, especially the lives of men, are transitory, ever
advancing from their beginning to their decline and final determination.
"The greatest folly," said Sancho, "that a man can commit in this world,
is to give himself up to death without any good cause for it, but only
from melancholy."
THE WILL OF DON QUIXOTE.
"I feel, good sirs," said Don Quixote, "that death advances fast upon
me. Let us then be serious, and bring me a confessor, and a notary to
draw up my will, for a man in my state must not trifle with his soul.
Let the notary be sent for, I beseech you, while my friend here, the
priest, is taking my confession."
The priest, having listened to his dying friend's confession, came out
of the room and told them that the good Alonzo Quixano was near his end,
and certainly in his right senses; he therefore advised them to go in,
as it was full time that his will should be made. These tidings gave a
terrible stab to the overcharged hearts of the two ladies and his
faithful squire, whose eyes overflowed with weeping, and whose bosoms
had well-nigh burst with a thousand sighs and groans; for, indeed, it
must be owned, as we have somewhere observed, that whether in the
character of Alonzo Quixano the Good, or in the capacity of Don Quixote
de la Mancha, the poor gentleman had always exhibited marks of a
peaceable temper and agreeable demeanor, for which he was beloved, not
only by his own family, but also by all those who had the pleasure of
his acquaintance.
The notary entering the apartment with the rest of the company, wrote
the preamble of the will, in which Don Quixote disposed of his soul in
all the necessary Christian forms; then proceeding to the legacies, he
said:--
"Item: whereas, Sancho Panza, whom, in my madness, I made my squire, has
in his hands a certain sum of money for my use; and, as divers accounts,
disbursements, and pecuniary transactions have passed between us, it is
my will that he shall not be charged or brought to account for the said
money; but, if there be any overplus after he has deducted the payment
of what I owe him, the said overplus, which must be a mere trifle, shall
be his own, and much good may it do him; and as, during my disorder, I
contributed to his being made governor of an island, I would now, while
I enjoy my perfect senses, confer upon him, were it in my power, a whole
kingdom, which he richly deserves for the innocency of his heart and the
fidelity of his service."
Then turning to the disconsolate squire, "Forgive me, friend," said he,
"for having been the cause of thy appearing in the eye of the world a
madman like myself, by drawing thee into my erroneous notions concerning
the existence and adventures of knights-errant."
"Gentlemen," said Don Quixote, "let us proceed fair and softly. I was
mad, I am now sane; I was Don Quixote de la Mancha; I am now, as
formerly styled, Alonzo Quixano the Good. And may my repentance and
sincerity restore me to the esteem you once had for me. Now let the
notary proceed.
"Item: I bequeath to Antonia Quixano, my niece, here present, all my
estate, real and personal, after the payment of all my debts and
legacies; and the first to be discharged shall be the wages due to my
housekeeper for the time she has been in my service, and twenty ducats
besides for a suit of mourning.
"I appoint for my executors signor the priest and signor bachelor
Sampson Carrasco, here present.
"Item: It is also my will that, if Antonia Quixano, my niece, should be
inclined to marry, it shall be only with a man who, upon the strictest
inquiry, shall be found to know nothing of books of chivalry; and, in
case it appear that he is acquainted with such books, and that my niece,
notwithstanding, will and doth marry him, then shall she forfeit all I
have bequeathed her, which my executors may dispose of in pious uses as
they think proper.
"And, finally, I beseech the said gentlemen, my executors, that if haply
they should come to the knowledge of the author of a certain history
dispersed abroad, entitled, 'The Second Part of the Achievements of Don
Quixote de la Mancha,' that they will, in my name, most earnestly
entreat him to forgive me for having been the innocent cause of his
writing such a number of absurdities as that performance contains; for I
quit this life with some scruples of conscience arising from that
consideration."
The will being thus concluded, he was seized with a fainting-fit, and
stretched himself at full length in the bed, so that all the company
were alarmed and ran to his assistance. During three days which he lived
after the will was signed and sealed, he frequently fainted, and the
whole family was in confusion. Nevertheless, the niece ate her victuals,
the housekeeper drank to the repose of his soul, and even Sancho
cherished his little carcass; for the prospect of succession either
dispels or moderates that affliction which an heir ought to feel at the
death of the testator.
At last Don Quixote expired, after having received all the sacraments,
and in the strongest terms, pathetically enforced, expressed his
abomination against all books of chivalry; and the notary observed, that
in all the books of that kind which he had perused, he had never read of
any knight-errant who died quietly in his bed as a good Christian, like
Don Quixote; who, amidst the tears and lamentations of all present, gave
up the ghost, or, in other words, departed this life. The curate was no
sooner certified of his decease, than he desired the notary to make out
a testimonial, declaring that Alonzo Quixano the Good, commonly called