Chap. XII Of the Famous Adventure of the Inchanted Bark
By dint of travelling at a very deliberate pace for the space of two days after they quitted the grove, Don Quixote and Sancho arrived at the river Ebro, the sight of which afforded infinite pleasure to the knight, who eagerly contemplated the amenity of its banks, the transparency of its water, the tranquillity of its course, and the abundance of its chrystal stream, the joyous prospect of which renewed in his remembrance a thousand amorous thoughts, that chiefly turned upon what he had seen in the cave of Montesinos; for, although Master Peter’s ape had declared, that part of those circumstances was true, and part of them false, he inclined more to the belief that they were altogether real; while Sancho, on the contrary, looked upon the whole detail as one continued lye.
As they jogged on in this manner, their view was saluted by a small boat, without oars, or any other tackle, close to the river-side, and made fast to a tree that grew on the bank. Don Quixote looking around him, without perceiving any living soul, alighted immediately from Rozinante, commanding Sancho to quit the back of Dapple, and tie both beasts securely to the trunk of a poplar or willow that grew upon the spot. When the squire desired to know the cause of this sudden descent and ligation, ‘You must know, Sancho,’ said the knight, ‘that this vessel is here on purpose, without a possibility of any other design, to call and invite me to embark, that I may be conveyed to the succour of some knight, or other necessitous personage of high degree, who must certainly be involved in some dire disaster; for this is the very spirit of books of chivalry, and the practice of those inchanters concerning whom they treat, who, when any knight in distress cannot be delivered by their art, but solely by the prowess of another errant, though perhaps at the distance of two or three thousand leagues or more, they snatch him up in a cloud, or provide him with a vessel, in which he embarks, and in the twinkling of an eye he is transported either through the air, or by sea, to the place where his assistance is required: this bark, therefore, O Sancho, is brought hither for the like purpose, as sure as it is now day; and before the day be spent, take and secure Dapple and Rozinante together, and let us commit ourselves to the direction of God; for even the barefooted Carmelites shall not dissuade me from embarking.’—‘Since that is the case,’ answered Sancho, ’and your worship is resolved at every turn to plunge into these (I know not whether I should call them mad) vagaries, I have nothing to do but bow and obey; according to the proverb, If you obey the commands of your lord, you may sit as a guest at his board. Nevertheless, in order to disburden my confidence, I must give your worship notice, that in my opinion this same bark has nothing to do with inchanted people, but belongs to some fishermen of this river, in which they catch the best shads in the world.’
This remonstrance was made while he tied the cattle, which he could not leave to the protection of inchanters, without being grieved to the very soul. But the knight exhorted him to banish his anxiety on account of the animals, which would be carefully maintained and protected by the same sage destined to transport their riders through roads and regions of such longitude. ‘I do not understand what you mean by logickhood,’ said the squire; ‘for I never heard such a word before in the whole course of my life.’—‘By longitude I mean, length,’ answered the knight, ‘but I do not at all wonder that thou shouldst not understand the word; for thou art not obliged to be acquainted with the Latin tongue, like some arrogant people who pretend to knowledge of which they are entirely ignorant.’—‘The beasts are now secured,’ said Sancho, ‘what is next to be done?’—‘What!’ replied Don Quixote, ‘but to cross ourselves and weigh anchor; I mean to embark, and cut the rope by which the vessel is made fast.’
So saying, he leaped on board, whither he was followed by Sancho, and the fastening being cut, the boat edged gently off from the bank. The squire seeing himself about two fathoms from the shore, began to tremble, in the apprehension of perishing; but nothing gave him more pain than hearing Dapple raise his voice, and seeing Rozinante struggle for his freedom. ‘Now, Dapple,’ said he to his master, ‘brays for grief at our departure; and Rozinante strives to get loose, that he may throw himself into the water and swim after us!—Farewel, my dearly beloved friends, peace be with you, and may the madness that parts us be converted and undeceived, that we may be restored to your agreeable company.’
Then he began to weep so bitterly, that the knight exclaimed, in a tone of rage and vexation, ‘Of what art thou afraid, cowardly miscreant! wherefore dost thou weep, thou heart of butter! who persecutes, who molests thee, thou soul of a garret-mouse! or what wants dost thou suffer, beggarly wretch, rolling as thou art in the very bowels of abundance! art thou, peradventure, travelling, barefoot over the Riphean mountains! No: seated like an archduke upon a convenient bench, thou art softly conveyed by the gentle current of this delicious river, from which in a little time we shall launch into the wide and extended ocean: but, indeed, we must have already entered the open sea; aye, and sailed at least seven or eight hundred leagues; and, if I had here an astrolabe to take the elevation of the pole, I would tell thee exactly what way we have made; though either I have little skill, or we have already passed, or will pass in a very little time, the equinoctial line, that divides the globe into two equal parts.’—’And how far shall we have gone when we come to that same line your worship mentions?’ said Sancho. ‘A great way,’ replied the knight; ‘for, of three hundred and sixty degrees, comprehending the whole terraqueous globe, according to the computation of Ptolemy, who was the greatest cosmographer ever known, we shall have traversed one half when we reach the equinoctial line.’—‘’Fore God!’ cried Sancho, ‘your worship has brought a set of rare witnesses to prove the truth of what you say, Copulation and Kiss-me-gaffer, with the addition of Tool-i’me, or some such name164.’ Don Quixote laughed at Sancho’s blunders, upon the computation of the cosmographer Ptolemy; adding, ‘You must know, Sancho, that one of the signs by which those who embark at Cadiz for the East Indies, know they have passed the equinoctial, is the total destruction of vermin among the passengers and seamen: so that not one louse remains alive, or can be had in the whole ship, even though you should give its weight in gold; thou mayest therefore slip thy hand along thy thigh, Sancho, and if thou canst catch any thing alive, our doubt will be resolved; but if there is nothing to be found, we must certainly have passed the line.’—‘I can hardly believe it,’ answered the squire; ‘but, however, I will do as your worship desires; though there is no necessity for trying those experiments; for I can see with my own eyes, that we have not moved five yards from the bank, no, nor have we driven two yards below the cattle; for there stand Rozinante and Dapple, in the very spot where they were left; and taking aim as I do now, I vow to God, we do not move or go at the pace of a pismire.’—‘Sancho,’ said the knight, ‘perform the investigation I have mentioned, and give thyself no trouble about any other circumstance; for thou dost not know the meaning of colours, lines, parallels, zodiacks, eclipticks, poles, solstices, equinoxes, planets, constellations, points, and measures, that compose the spheres celestial and terrestrial. Wert thou acquainted with these, or even a part of them, thou wouldst distinctly perceive what parallels we have crossed, what signs we have seen, and what constellations we have left, and are now leaving behind us. I therefore repeat my request, that thou wouldst examine and go afishing upon thyself; for I am persuaded thou art clean and smooth as a sheet of white paper.’
Sancho, in compliance with his desire, slipped down his hand softly, and felt about his left ham; then raising his head, and looking at his master, ‘Either the experiment is false,’ said he; ‘or we have not reached the place your worship mentioned, by many leagues.’—‘What!’ said the knight, ‘hast thou found something?’—‘Aye, more than one something,’ answered the squire: who snapped his fingers, and afterwards washed them in the river, along the current of which the boat glided softly, without the assistance of any secret power, or concealed inchanter, being conveyed by nothing but the stream, which then ran with a smooth and gentle course.
In this manner they proceeded, when they discovered some large mills, built in the middle of the river, which Don Quixote no sooner perceived, than he addressed himself to Sancho, in an exalted voice: ‘Behold, my friend, yonder appears the city, castle, or fortress, that contains some oppressed knight-errant, queen, infanta, or princess in distress, for whose relief I am brought hither.’—‘What the devil does your worship mean by a city, fortress, or castle!’ cried the squire; ‘don’t you see these are mills, built in the river, for grinding wheat?’—‘Peace, Sancho,’ replied the knight, ‘although they appear to be mills, they are in reality edifices of a very different nature: I have already told thee, that all things are transformed and changed by the power of inchantment; I do not mean that they are really changed in any circumstance but appearance, as we have been taught by woeful experience in the transformation of Dulcinea, the sole refuge of my hope.’
By this time, the boat being sucked into the middle of the stream, so as to move considerably faster than at first, was perceived by the millers, who seeing it advancing to the indraught of the wheels, came suddenly out in a body, with long poles, to stop its motion; and as their faces and cloaths were be-powdered with meal, they made a frightful figure, while they exclaimed, with great vociferation, ‘You devils of men! where are you going: are you mad; to come and drown yourselves, or be ground to pieces by the wheels?’
Don Quixote, hearing this address, ‘Did not I tell thee, Sancho,’ said he, ‘that we had arrived at the scene in which I must exert the prowess of mine arm? Behold, what felons and assassins come forth to try my valour; behold what a number of hobgoblins range themselves against me; behold, I say, what horrid physiognomies appear to scare and overawe us; but you shall presently see what will happen. Ye ruffians!’ Then, starting up, he began to threaten and revile them, exclaiming aloud, ‘Ye scum, ye scoundrels, ill-intentioned and worse-advised! release, I charge you, and restore to the full fruition of freedom, the person whom ye keep confined and oppressed in that fortress or gaol, let him be high or low, or of what rank and quality soever he may be; for I am Don Quixote de La Mancha, otherwise intitled the Knight of the Lions, destined by the appointment of Heaven above, to bring this adventure to an happy issue.’
So saying, he unsheathed his sword, and brandished it in the air, in defiance of the millers, who hearing this rhapsody without understanding it, began to employ their poles, in order to turn aside the boat, which by this time had entered the current and canal of the wheels. As for Sancho, he fell upon his knees, and prayed devoutly that Heaven would deliver him from such imminent danger; and his deliverance was accordingly effected by the alertness and dexterity of the millers, who pushed back the boat with their poles; yet not without oversetting the vessel; so as that the knight and his squire were soused over head and ears in the water. It was well for Don Quixote that he could swim like a goose; nevertheless, the weight of his armour sunk him twice to the bottom, and had not the millers thrown themselves into the river, and weighed them up by main strength, it might have been said, ‘Here Troy once stood165.’
They were no sooner dragged ashore, rather drenched than dead of drought, than the squire, humbling himself upon his knees, again clasping his hands and lifting up his eyes to Heaven, uttered a very fervent petition to God, that he might be from thenceforward delivered from the frantick projects and mad attempts of his master. This ejaculation was scarce finished, when they were joined by the fishermen who were owners of the boat, which was crushed to pieces by the mill-wheels; and they perceiving the wreck, began to strip Sancho, and demand indemnification of his master, who, with great tranquillity, as if nothing at all had happened told the millers and fishermen that he would pay for the bark with the utmost chearfulness, on condition that they would release, without ransom or security, the person or persons whom they detained in durance and oppression within the castle.
‘What does the madman mean by persons and castles?’ answered one of the millers; ‘wouldst thou carry off the customers that bring grist to our mills, forsooth?’—‘Enough,’ said Don Quixote within himself, ‘I might as well preach to the desart, as attempt, by intreaties, to prevail upon such miscreants to do any virtuous action. In this adventure there must certainly be two powerful inchanters engaged on opposite sides, one of whom baffles the designs of the other; by one I was provided with a bark, and his antagonist overturned me in the water. Lord mend us! the world is nothing but a continual warfare of opposite machinations and deceit; for my own part, I can do no more.’ Then raising his voice, and fixing his eyes upon the mills, ‘Friends,’ cried he, ‘whosoever you are who lie confined within that prison, forgive me, that for my misfortune, as well as yours, it is not in my power to extricate you from your distress; for some other knight the adventure must be reserved.’ Having pronounced this apostrophe, he compounded with the fishermen, for whose boat he paid fifty rials, which Sancho disbursed with great reluctance, saying, ‘Two such boatfuls will sink our whole stock to the bottom.’
The fishermen and millers gazed with admiration at those two figures, so different in appearance from other men; and as they could by no means understand the meaning and tendency of Don Quixote’s discourse, and the questions he asked, they looked upon them as madmen, and went away. The millers retreated to their mills; the fishermen betook themselves to their cottage; the knight and squire, like beasts, returned to their beasts; and thus ended the adventure of the enchanted bark.