Chap. XIII Which Discovers Who the Knight of the White Moon Was, and Gives an Account of the Deliverance of Don Gregorio — With Other Incidents
Don Antonio Moreno followed the Knight of the White Moon, who was also accompanied, and even persecuted by a number of boys, until they had housed him in one of the city inns, which was at the same time entered by Don Antonio, who burned with impatience to know what he was; and, without ceremony, intruded himself into the apartment to which the stranger retired, with his squire, to be unarmed. He of the White Moon, perceiving how much the gentleman’s curiosity was inflamed, and that he was resolved to stick close by him until it should be satisfied, ‘Signior,’ said he, ‘I am not ignorant that you are come hither on purpose to know who I am; and as there is no reason why I should refuse you that satisfaction, I will, while my servant is employed in taking off my armour, explain the whole mystery, without the least reserve: you must know, then, Signior, that I am called the Batchelor Sampson Carrasco, a townsman of Don Quixote de La Mancha, whose madness and extravagance has given great concern to all his acquaintance, and to me in particular. Believing that his recovery would depend upon his living quietly at his own habitation, I projected a scheme for compelling him to stay at home; and, about three months ago, sallied forth upon the highway, as a knight-errant, assuming the appellation of the Knight of the Mirrours, fully resolved to engage and vanquish Don Quixote, without hurting him dangerously, after I should have established, as the condition of our combat, that the vanquished should be at the discretion of the victor: and, as I deemed him already conquered, my intention was to demand that he should return to his own house, from which he should not stir for the space of one year, in which time I hoped his cure might be effected. But fate ordained things in another manner; I was conquered and overthrown, and my design entirely frustrated; he proceeded in quest of new adventures, and I returned vanquished, ashamed, and sorely bruised by the dangerous fall I had sustained in battle: nevertheless, I did not lay aside the design of returning in quest of him to overthrow him in my turn, and you have this day seen my intention succeed; for he is so punctual in observing the ordinances of chivalry, that he will, doubtless, perform his promise in complying with my demand. This, Signior, is an account of the whole affair: nor have I omitted one circumstance; and I beg you will not discover and disclose to Don Quixote who I am, that my Christian intention may take effect, and the poor gentleman retrieve his judgement, which would be altogether excellent, were he once abandoned by those mad notions of chivalry.’—‘God forgive you, Signior,’ cried Don Antonio, ‘for the injury you have done the world, in seeking to restore to his senses the most agreeable madman that ever lived! Do not you perceive, Signior, that the benefit resulting from the cure of Don Quixote will never counterbalance the pleasure produced by his extravagances? But, I imagine, all the care and industry of Signior Batchelor will hardly be sufficient to effect the recovery of a man who is so thoroughly mad, and, if it was no breach of charity, I would say, May Don Quixote never be cured; for, in his recovery, we not only lose his own diverting flights, but also those of his squire Sancho Panza; and any of these conceits are such as might convert Melancholy herself into merriment and laughter: nevertheless, I shall put a seal upon my lips, and say nothing, that I may see whether or not I shall judge aright, in supposing that the diligence of Signior Carrasco will not answer his expectation.’ The batchelor answered, that all things considered, the business was already in a fair way; and, he did not doubt, would be blessed with a prosperous issue. Don Antonio having made a tender of his services, and taken his leave, Sampson ordered his arms to be fastened upon a mule; then mounting the horse on which he engaged Don Quixote, he quitted the city the same day, on his return to his own country, in which he arrived without having met with any incident worthy of being recorded in this authentick history. Don Antonio made the viceroy acquainted with all the particulars he had learned from Carrasco, which afforded no great pleasure to that nobleman, as the retirement of Don Quixote would destroy all that entertainment enjoyed by those who had the opportunity of observing his madness.
Six whole days did Don Quixote lie a-bed, pensive, melancholy, mauled, and meagre, revolving in his imagination, and meditating incessantly on the unfortunate incident of his overthrow; notwithstanding the consolations of Sancho, who, among other arguments of comfort, exhorted his worship to hold up his head, and dispel his sorrow, if possible. ‘Your worship,’ said he, ‘has reason to thank God, that, though you are overthrown, your ribs are still whole: you know that, in those matters, we must take as well as give; and where there are hooks we do not always find bacon—A fig for the physician, seeing we do not want his help in the cure of this distemper: let us return to our habitation, and leave off travelling about in quest of adventures, through lands and countries unknown; nay, if we rightly consider the case, I am the greatest loser, though your worship is the most roughly handled; for though, when I quitted the government, I likewise quitted all thought of governing, I did not give up the desire of being a count, which will never be fulfilled if your worship should renounce your design of being a king, and quit the exercise of chivalry; in that case all my hopes must vanish into smoke.’—‘Peace, Sancho,’ said the disconsolate knight; ‘the term of my penance and retirement will not exceed a year, at the end of which I will return to the honourable duties of my profession, and then we shall find kingdoms to conquer and countships to bestow.’—‘The Lord give ear, and my sin never hear!’ cried Sancho: ’and I have always heard it said, that righteous hope is better than unjust possession.’
Their conversation was interrupted by Don Antonio; who, entering the apartment with marks of infinite satisfaction, exclaimed—‘Money for my good news, Signior Don Quixote: Don Gregorio, and the renegado who undertook his deliverance, are now in the road—in the road! they are, by this time, in the viceroy’s palace, and will be here in an instant.’ The knight was a little revived by these tidings, and replied—‘In truth, I was going to say, I should have been glad to hear that the scheme had not succeeded, so that I should have been obliged to cross over into Barbary, where I would, by the strength of my arm, have given liberty not only to Don Gregorio, but also to all the Christian captives in Algiers—but what am I saying, miserable caitif? am not I vanquished? am not I overthrown? am not I excluded from the exercise of arms for the space of a whole year? wherefore, then, promise what I cannot perform? wherefore praise my own valour, when I am fitter for handling a distaff than for wielding a sword?’—‘No more of that, good Signior,’ replied the squire; ‘Let the hen live though she has the pip: To-day for thee, and to-morrow for me: as to those matters of encounters and dry bastings, they are not to be minded; for he that falls to-day may rise to-morrow, if he does not chuse to lie a-bed; I mean, if he does not chuse to despair, without endeavouring to recover fresh spirits for fresh adventures. Get up, therefore, I beseech your worship, and receive Don Gregorio; for the people are in such an uproar, that by this time he must be in the house.’
This was really the case: Don Gregorio and the renegado having given the viceroy an account of the voyage and success of the undertaking, the young gentleman, impatient to see his dear Anna Felix, was come with his deliverer to the house of Don Antonio; and although Don Gregorio was in woman’s apparel when they delivered him from Algeirs, he had exchanged it in the vessel with another captive by whom he was accompanied; but, in any dress whatsoever, his appearance was such as commanded friendship, service, and esteem; for he was exceedingly beautiful, and seemingly not above seventeen or eighteen years of age. Ricote and his daughter went forth to receive him; the father with tears of joy, and Anna with the most modest deportment: nor did this fair couple embrace one another; for, where genuine love prevails, such freedom of behaviour is seldom indulged. The beauty of Don Gregorio and his mistress excited the admiration of all the spectators; while silence spoke for the lovers themselves, and their eyes performing the office of the tongue, disclosed the joy of their virtuous thoughts. The renegado recounted the stratagem and means he had used for the deliverance of the youth; who likewise entertained the company with a detail of the dangers and distresses to which he was exposed among the women with whom he had been left; and this task he performed not with diffused prolixity, but in elegant and concise terms, which plainly proved that his discretion far exceeded his years. Finally, Ricote liberally rewarded the rowers and the renagado, who re-united and re-incorporated himself with the church, and from a rotten member, became fair and sound, by dint of mortification and sincere repentance.
Two days after the arrival of Don Gregorio, the viceroy consulted with Don Antonio about the means of obtaining permission for Anna Felix and her father to reside in Spain, as they were persuaded that no inconvenience could arise from such indulgence to a daughter who was so perfectly a Christian, and a father so righteously disposed. Don Antonio offered to negotiate this affair at court, whither he was pressingly called by his own occasions; observing, that by dint of interest and presents many difficulties are removed. Ricote, who was present at this conversation, said, ‘There is nothing to be hoped from favour or presents; neither tears, entreaties, promises, nor presents, will avail with the great Don Bernandino de Velasco, Count de Selaza, to whom his majesty has entrusted the charge of our expulsion; for, although he really tempers justice with mercy, as he perceives the whole body of our nation contaminated and gangrened, he applies the actual cautery instead of the mollifying ointment; so that, by his diligence, prudence, sagacity, and terrifying threats, he has sustained upon his able shoulders the weight of that vast project which he has successfully put in execution, without suffering his Argus eyes, which are always alert, to be blinded by all our industry, stratagem, fraud, and solicitation. He is resolved that none of our people shall remain concealed; lest, like an hidden root, they may hereafter bud and bring forth fruit which may be poisonous to Spain, already cleansed and delivered from those fears that arose from the prodigious number of Moors: an heroick resolution of the great Philip III. who has, at the same time, displayed the most consummate wisdom, in committing the execution of the scheme to the courage and ability of Don Bernandino de Velasco.’—‘Nevertheless,’ said Don Antonio, ‘I will, while at court, use all possible means in your behalf, and leave the determination to Heaven; Don Gregorio shall go along with me, and console his parents for the grief they have suffered from his absence; Anna Felix shall stay with my wife, or be boarded in a monastery; and, I know, my lord viceroy will be pleased to lodge honest Ricote until we shall see the issue of my negociation.’ The viceroy agreed to every circumstance of the proposal; but Don Gregorio, being informed of the scheme, declared he neither could nor would leave his charming Anna Felix. At length, however, he assented to the proposal, resolving to go and visit his parents, with whom he would concert measures for returning to fetch away his mistress; so that Anna Felix remained with Don Antonio’s lady, and Ricote staid in the viceroy’s palace.
The hour of Antonio’s departure arrived; and, in two days, was followed by that of Don Quixote, whose fall would not permit him to travel before that time. The parting of the lovers was attended with weeping, sighing, sobbing, and swooning; and Ricote offered to accommodate Don Gregorio with a thousand crowns; but the young gentleman would take but five, which he borrowed of Don Antonio, promising to repay them at court. Thus they set out together for Madrid; and soon after, as we have already observed, Don Quixote and Sancho departed from Barcelona; the knight unarmed, in a travelling dress, and the squire trudging a-foot, because Dapple carried the armour of his master.