Don Quixote, Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra [reading well .txt] 📗

wager,” said Don Quixote, “that the same bachelor or beneficiary is a greater friend of Camacho’s than of Basilio’s, and that he is better at satire than at vespers; he has introduced the accomplishments of Basilio and the riches of Camacho very neatly into the dance.” Sancho Panza, who was listening to all this, exclaimed, “The king is my cock;623 I stick to Camacho.”

“It is easy to see thou art a clown, Sancho,” said Don Quixote, “and one of that sort that cry ‘Long life to the conqueror.’ ”

“I don’t know of what sort I am,” returned Sancho, “but I know very well I’ll never get such elegant skimmings off Basilio’s pots as these I have got off Camacho’s;” and he showed him the bucketful of geese and hens, and seizing one began to eat with great gaiety and appetite, saying, “A fig for the accomplishments of Basilio! As much as thou hast so much art thou worth, and as much as thou art worth so much hast thou.624 As a grandmother of mine used to say, there are only two families in the world, the Haves and the Haven’ts;625 and she stuck to the Haves; and to this day, Señor Don Quixote, people would sooner feel the pulse of ‘Have,’ than of ‘Know;’ an ass covered with gold looks better than a horse with a packsaddle. So once more I say I stick to Camacho, the bountiful skimmings of whose pots are geese and hens, hares and rabbits; but of Basilio’s, if any ever come to hand, or even to foot, they’ll be only rinsings.”626

“Hast thou finished thy harangue, Sancho?” said Don Quixote. “Of course I have finished it,” replied Sancho, “because I see your worship takes offence at it; but if it was not for that, there was work enough cut out for three days.”

“God grant I may see thee dumb before I die, Sancho,” said Don Quixote.

“At the rate we are going,” said Sancho, “I’ll be chewing clay before your worship dies; and then, maybe, I’ll be so dumb that I’ll not say a word until the end of the world, or, at least, till the day of judgment.”

“Even should that happen, O Sancho,” said Don Quixote, “thy silence will never come up to all thou hast talked, art talking, and wilt talk all thy life; moreover, it naturally stands to reason, that my death will come before thine; so I never expect to see thee dumb, not even when thou art drinking or sleeping, and that is the utmost I can say.”

“In good faith, señor,” replied Sancho, “there’s no trusting that fleshless one, I mean Death, who devours the lamb as soon as the sheep, and, as I have heard our curate say, treads with equal foot upon the lofty towers of kings and the lowly huts of the poor. That lady is more mighty than dainty, she is no way squeamish, she devours all and is ready for all, and fills her alforjas with people of all sorts, ages, and ranks. She is no reaper that sleeps out the noontide; at all times she is reaping and cutting down, as well the dry grass as the green; she never seems to chew, but bolts and swallows all that is put before her, for she has a canine appetite that is never satisfied; and though she has no belly, she shows she has a dropsy and is athirst to drink the lives of all that live, as one would drink a jug of cold water.”

“Say no more, Sancho,” said Don Quixote at this; “don’t try to better it, and risk a fall; for in truth what thou hast said about death in thy rustic phrase is what a good preacher might have said. I tell thee, Sancho, if thou hadst discretion equal to thy mother wit, thou mightst take a pulpit in hand, and go about the world preaching fine sermons.”

“He preaches well who lives well,”627 said Sancho, “and I know no more theology than that.”

“Nor needst thou,” said Don Quixote, “but I cannot conceive or make out how it is that, the fear of God being the beginning of wisdom, thou, who art more afraid of a lizard than of him, knowest so much.”

“Pass judgment on your chivalries, señor,” returned Sancho, “and don’t set yourself up to judge of other men’s fears or braveries, for I am as good a fearer of God as my neighbours; but leave me to despatch these skimmings, for all the rest is only idle talk that we shall be called to account for in the other world;” and so saying, he began a fresh attack on the bucket, with such a hearty appetite that he aroused Don Quixote’s, who no doubt would have helped him had he not been prevented by what must be told farther on.

XXI

In which Camacho’s wedding is continued, with other delightful incidents.

While Don Quixote and Sancho were engaged in the discussion set forth the last chapter, they heard loud shouts and a great noise, which were uttered and made by the men on the mares as they went at full gallop, shouting, to receive the bride and bridegroom, who were approaching with musical instruments and pageantry of all sorts around them, and accompanied by the priest and the relatives of both, and all the most distinguished people of the surrounding villages. When Sancho saw the bride, he exclaimed, “By my faith, she is not dressed like a country girl, but like some fine court lady; egad, as well as I can make out, the patena628 she wears is rich coral, and her green Cuenca stuff is thirty-pile velvet;629 and then the white linen trimming⁠—by my oath, but it’s satin! Look at her hands⁠—jet rings on them! May I never have luck if they’re not gold rings, and real gold, and