THE PLEASANT METHOD DON QUIXOTE TOOK TO BE DUBBED A KNIGHT. Agitated by this idea, he abruptly finished his scanty supper, called the innkeeper, and, shutting himself up with him in the stable, he fell on his knees before him and said, “Never will I arise from this place, valorous knight, until your courtesy shall vouchsafe to grant a boon which it is my intention to request a boon that will redound to your glory and to the benefit of all mankind." The innkeeper, seeing his guest at his feet, and hearing such language, stood confounded, and stared at him, without knowing what to do or say; he entreated him to rise, but in vain, until he had promised to grant the boon he requested. "I expected no less, signor, from your great magnificence," replied Don Quixote; "know, therefore, that the boon I have demanded, and which your liberality has conceded, is, that on the morrow you will confer on me the honor of knighthood. This night I will watch my arms in the chapel of your castle, in order that, in the morning, my earnest desire may be fulfilled, and I may with propriety traverse the four quarters of the world in quest of adventures for the relief of the distressed, conformable to the duties of chivalry and of knights-errant who, like myself, are devoted to such pursuits. The host, who, as we have said, was a shrewd fellow, and had already entertained some doubts respecting the wits of his guest, was now confirmed in his suspicions; and, to make sport for the night, determined to follow his humor. He told him, therefore, that his desire was very reasonable, and that such pursuits were natural and suitable to knights so illustrious as he appeared to be, and as his gallant demeanor fully testified; that he had himself, in the days of his youth, followed that honorable profession and travelled over various parts of the world in search of adventures-failing not to visit the suburbs of Malaga, the isles of Riaran, the compass of Seville, the market-place of Segovia, the olive-field of Valencia, the rondilla of Grenada, the coast of St. Lucar, the fountain of Cordova, the taverns of Toledo, and divers other parts, where he had exercised the agility of his heels and the dexterity of his hands committing sundry wrongs, soliciting widows, courting damsels, cheating youths-in short, making himself known to most of the tribunals in Spain; and that finally he had retired to this castle, where he lived upon his revenue and that of others, entertaining therein all knights-errant of every quality and degree, solely for the love he bore them, and that they might share their fortunes with him in return for his good-will. He further told him that in his castle there was no chapel wherein he could watch his armor, for it had been pulled down, in order to be rebuilt; but that, in cases of necessity, he knew it might be done wherever he pleased; therefore he might watch it that night in the court of the castle, and the following morning, if it pleased God, the requisite ceremonies should be performed, and he should be dubbed so effectually that the world would not be able to produce a more perfect knight. He then inquired if he had any money about him. Don Quixote told him he had none, having never read in their histories that knights-errant provided themselves with money. The innkeeper assured him he was mistaken; for, admitting it was not mentioned in their history, the authors deeming it unnecessary to specify things so obviously requisite as money and clean shirts, yet was it not therefore to be inferred that they had none, but, on the contrary, he might consider it an established fact that all knights-errant, of whose histories so many volumes are filled, carried their purses well provided against accidents; that they were also supplied with shirts and a small casket of ointments, to heal the wounds they might receive, for, in plains and deserts where they fought and were wounded, no aid was near unless they had some sage enchanter for their friend who could give them immediate assistance by conveying in a cloud through the air some damsel or dwarf, with a phial of water, possessed of such virtue that, upon tasting a single drop of it, they should instantly become as sound as if they had received no injury. But when the knights of former times were without such a friend, they always took care that their esquires should be provided with money and such necessary articles as lint and salves; and when they had no esquires, which very rarely happened, they carried these things themselves upon the crupper of their horses, in wallets so small as to be scarcely visible, that they might seem to be something of more importance; for, except in such cases, the custom of carrying wallets was not tolerated among knights-errant. He therefore advised, though, as his godson (which he was soon to be), he might command him never henceforth to travel without money and the aforesaid provisions, and he would find them serviceable when he least expected it. Don Quixote promised to follow his advice with punctuality; and an order was now given for performing the watch of the armor in a large yard adjoining the inn. Don Quixote, having collected it together, placed it on a cistern that was close to a well; then, bracing on his target and grasping his lance, with graceful demeanor he paced to and fro before the pile, beginning his parade as soon as it was dark. The innkeeper informed all who were in the inn of the frenzy of his guest, the watching of his armor, and of the intended knighting. They were surprised at so singular a kind of madness, and went out to observe him at a distance. They perceived him sometimes quietly pacing along, and sometimes leaning upon his lance with his eyes fixed upon his armor for a considerable time. It was now night, but the moon shone with a splendor which might vie even with that whence it was borrowed; so that every motion of our new knight might be distinctly seen. At this time, it happened that one of the carriers wanted to give his mules some water, for which purpose it was necessary to remove Don Quixote's armor from the cistern; who, seeing him advance, exclaimed with a loud voice, "O thou, whomsoever thou art, rash knight! who approachest the armor of the most valiant adventurer that ever girded sword, beware of what thou dost, and touch it not, unless thou wouldst yield thy life as the forfeit of thy temerity.' The carrier heeded not this admonition (though better would it have been for him if he had), but, seizing hold of the straps, he threw the armor some distance from him, which Don Quixote perceiving, he raised his eyes to heaven, and addressing his thoughts, apparently, to his lady Dulcinea, said, "Assist me, O lady, to avenge this first insult offered to your vassal's breast, nor let your favor and protection fail me in this perilous encounter.' Having uttered these and similar ejaculations, he let slip his target, and, raising his lance with both hands, he gave the carrier such a stroke upon the head that he fell to the ground in so grievous a plight that, had the stroke been repeated, there would have been no need of a surgeon. This done, he replaced his armor and continued his parade with the same tranquillity as before. Soon after, another carrier, not knowing what had passed, for the first yet lay stunned, came out with the same intention of watering his mules; and, as he approached to take away the armor from the cistern, Don Quixote, without saying a word or imploring any protection, again let slip his target, raised his lance, and, with no less effect than before, smote the head of the second carrier. The noise brought out all the people in the inn, and the landlord among the rest; upon which Don Quixote braced on his target, and laying his hand upon his sword, said, "O lady of beauty! strength and vigor of my enfeebled heart! Now is the time for thee to turn thy illustrious eyes upon this thy captive knight, whom so mighty an encounter awaits!" This address had, he conceived, animated him with so much courage, that, were all the carriers in the world to have assailed him, he would not have retreated one step. The comrades of the wounded, upon discovering the situation of their friends, began at a distance to discharge a shower of stones upon Don Quixote, who sheltered himself as well as he could with his target, without daring to quit the cistern, because he would not abandon his armor. The innkeeper called aloud to them, begging they would desist, for he had already told them he was insane, and that, as a madman, he would be acquitted, though he were to kill them all. Don Quixote, in a voice still louder, called them infamous traitors, and the lord of the castle a cowardly, base-born knight, for allowing knights-errant to be treated in that manner; declaring that, had he received the order of knighthood, he would have made him sensible of his perfidy. "But as for you, ye vile and worthless rabble, I utterly despise ye! Advance! Come on; molest me as far as ye are able, for quickly shall ye receive the reward of your fully and insolence!" This he uttered with so much spirit and intrepidity that the assailants were struck with terror; which, in addition to the landlord's persuasions, made them cease their attack. He then permitted the wounded to be carried off, and, with the same gravity and composure, resumed the watch of his armor. The host, not relishing these pranks of his guest, determined to put an end to them, before any further mischief ensued, by immediately investing him with the luckless order of chivalry; approaching him, therefore, he disclaimed any concurrence on his part in the insolent conduct of those low people, who were, he observed, well chastised for their presumption. He repeated to him that there was no chapel in the castle, nor was it by any means necessary for what remains to be done; that the stroke of knighting consisted in blows on the neck and shoulders, according to the ceremonial of the order, which might be effectually performed in the middle of a field; that the duty of watching his armor he had now completely fulfilled, for he had watched more than four hours, though only two were required. All this Don Quixote believed, and said that he was there ready to obey him, requesting him, at the same time, to perform the deed as soon as possible; because, should he be assaulted again when he found himself knighted. he was resolved not to leave one person alive in the castle, excepting those whom, out of respect to him, and at his particular request, he might be induced to spare. The constable, thus warned and alarmed, immediately brought forth a book, in which he kept his account of the straw and oats he furnished to the carriers, and, attended by a boy, who carried an end of candle, and the two damsels before mentioned, went towards Don Quixote, whom he commanded to kneel down: he then began reading his manual, as if it were some devout prayer, in the course of which he raised his hand and gave him a good blow on the neck, and, after that, a handsome stroke over the shoulders, with his own sword, still muttering between his teeth, as if in prayer. This being done, he commanded one of the ladies to gird on his sword, an office she performed with much alacrity, as well as discretion, no small portion of which was necessary to avoid bursting with laughter at every part of the ceremony; but indeed the prowess they had seen displayed by the new knight kept their mirth within bounds. At girding on the sword, the good lady said, God grant you may be a fortunate knight, and successful in battle." Don Quixote inquired her name, that he might thenceforward know to whom he was indebted for the favor received, as it was his intention to bestow upon her some share of the honor he should acquire by the valor of his arm. She replied, with much humility, that her name was Tolosa, that she was the daughter of a cobbler at Toledo, who lived at the stalls of Sanchobienaya; and that, wherever she was, she would serve and honor him as her lord. Don Quixote, in reply, requested her, for his sake, to do him the favor henceforth to add to her name the title of don, and call herself Donna Tolosa, which she promised to do. The other girl now buckled on his spurs, and with her he held nearly the same conference as with the lady of the sword. Having inquired her name, she told him it was Molinera, and that she was daughter to an honest miller of Antiquera: he then requested her likewise to assume the don, and style herself Donna Molinera, renewing his proffers of service and thanks. These never-till-then-seen ceremonies being thus speedily performed, Don Quixote was impatient to find himself on horseback, in quest of adventures. He therefore instantly saddled Rozinante, mounted him, and, embracing his host, made his acknowledgments for the favor he had conferred by knighting him, in terms so extraordinary, that it would be in vain to attempt to repeat them. The host, in order to get rid of him the sooner, replied with no less flourish, but more brevity; and, without making any demand for his lodging, wished him a good journey. OF WHAT BEFELL OUR KNIGHT AFTER HB HAD SALLIED FROM THE INN. Light of heart, Don Quixote issued forth from the inn about break of day, so satisfied and so pleased to see himself knighted, that the joy thereof almost burst his horse's girths. But recollecting | Don Quixote, observing what passed, now called out in an angry tone, Discourteous knight, it ill becomes thee to deal thus with one who is not able to defend himself. Get upon thy horse, and take thy lance" (for he had also a lance leaning against the oak to which the mare was fastened), and I will make thee sensible of thy dastardly conduct." The countryman, seeing such a figure coming towards him, armed from head to foot, end brandishing his lance at his face, gave himself up for a dead man, and therefore 66 humbly answered, "Signor cavalier, this 66 so in my presence, vile rustic?" said Don what you say," quoth the boy; "for my master is no knight, nor ever received any order of knighthood; he is John Aldudo, the rich, of the neighborhood of Quintanar. "That is little to the purpose, answered Don Quixote; "there may be knights of the family of the Aldudos, more especially as every man is the son of his own works. "That's true,' quoth Andres; "but what works is my master the son of, who refuses me the wages of my sweat and labor?" "I do not refuse thee, friend Andres," replied the countryman: "have the kindness to go with me; and I swear, by all the orders of knighthood that are in the world, I will pay thee every real down, and perfumed into the bargain." "For the perfuming, I thank thee," said Don Quixote:give him the reals, and I shall be satisfied and see that thou failest not: or else, by the same oath, I swear to return and chastise thee; nor shalt thou escape me, though thou wert to conceal thyself closer than a lizard. And if thou wouldst be informed who it is thus commands, that thou mayest feel the more strictly bound to perform thy promise, know that I am the valorous Don Quixote de la Mancha, the redresser of wrongs and abuses. So farewell, and do not forget what thou hast promised and sworn, on pain of the penalty I have denounced." So saying he clapped spurs to Rozinante, and was soon far off. The countryman eagerly followed him with his eyes, and, when he saw him quite out of the wood, he turned to his lad Andres, and said, "Come hither, child; I wish now to pay what I owe thee, as that redresser of wrongs commanded." So you shall, I swear," quoth Andres; and you will do well to obey the orders of that honest gentleman (whom God grant to live a thousand years!), who is so brave a man, and so just a judge, that, egad! if you do not pay me, he will come back and do what he has threatened.' And I swear so too," quoth the countryman: "and to show how much I love thee, I am resolved to augment the debt, that I may add to the payment." Then, taking him by the arm, he again tied him to the tree, where he gave him so many stripes that he left him for dead. Now," said he, "Master Andres, call upon that re*A Spanish phrase for paying or returning anything with advantage. แ dresser of wrongs; thou wilt find he will not easily redress this, though I believe I have not quite done with thee yet, for I have a good mind to flay thee alive, as thou saidst just now. At length, however, he untied him, and gave him leave to go in quest of his judge, to execute the threatened sentence. Andres went away in dudgeon, swearing he would find out the valorous Don Quixote de la Mancha, and tell him all that had passed, and that he should pay for it sevenfold. Nevertheless, he departed in tears, leaving his master laughing at him. Thus did the valorous Don Quixote redress this wrong; and, elated at so fortunate and glorious a beginning to his knight-errantry, he went on toward his village, entirely satisfied with himself, and saying with a low voice, "Well mayest thou deem thyself happy above all women living on the earth, O'Dulcinea del Toboso, beauteous above the most beautiful! since it has been thy lot to have subject and obedient to thy whole will and pleasure so valiant and renowned a knight as is and ever shall be Don Quixote de la Mancha! who, as all the world knows, received but yesterday the order of knighthood, and to-day has redressed the greatest injury and grievance that injustice could invent and cruelty commit! to-day hath he wrested the scourge out of the hand of that pitiless enemy, by whom a tender stripling was so undeservedly lashed!" He now came to the road, which branched out in four different directions; when immediately those cross-ways presented themselves to his imagination where knights-errant usually stop to consider which of the roads they shall take. Here, then, following their example, he paused awhile, and, after mature consideration, let go the reins, submitting his own will to that of his horse, who, following his first motion, took the direct road towards his stable. Having proceeded about two miles, Don Quixote discovered a company of people, who, as it afterwards appeared, were merchants of Toledo, going to buy silks in Murcia. There were six of them in number; they carriel umbrellas, and were attended by four servants on horseback and three muleteers on foot. Scarcely had Don Quixote espied them, when he imagined it must be some new adventure; and, to imitate as nearly as possible what |