{"id":241,"date":"2019-12-01T16:45:25","date_gmt":"2019-12-01T16:45:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.publiconsulting.com\/wordpress\/donquixoteoflamancha\/chapter\/second-part-chapter-v-2\/"},"modified":"2020-03-23T07:37:54","modified_gmt":"2020-03-23T07:37:54","slug":"second-part-chapter-v","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/www.publiconsulting.com\/wordpress\/donquixoteoflamancha\/chapter\/second-part-chapter-v\/","title":{"rendered":"Second Part. Chapter V"},"content":{"raw":"CHAPTER V<\/a>\r\n
\r\n

Concerning the clever and amusing talk that passed between Sancho Panza and his wife, Teresa Panza, and other events worthy of happy memory<\/span><\/h2>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

(When the translator332<\/a><\/span><\/sup> came to write this fifth chapter, he says he thought it was apocryphal, because in it Sancho Panza speaks in a manner different from what one might expect of his limited intelligence, and says things so subtle one would not think it possible that he knew them; but the translator did not wish to omit it, for the sake of his professional obligations, and so he continued, saying:)<\/p>\r\n

Sancho came home so happy and joyful that his wife could see his joy at a distance, which obliged her to ask:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the news, Sancho my friend, that makes you so happy?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

To which he responded:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cMy wife, if it were God\u2019s will, I\u2019d be delighted not to be as happy as I appear.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cHusband, I don\u2019t understand you,\u201d she replied, \u201cand I don\u2019t know what you mean when you say you\u2019d be delighted, if it were God\u2019s will, not to be happy; I may be a fool, but I don\u2019t know how anybody can be happy not to be happy.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cLook, Teresa,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cI\u2019m happy because I\u2019ve decided to serve my master, Don Quixote, again, for he wants to leave a third <\/a>time to seek adventures; and I\u2019ll leave with him again, because of my need and the hope, which makes me happy, of thinking that I may find another hundred escudos<\/span> like the ones that have already been spent, though it makes me sad to have to leave you and my children; and if it was God\u2019s will to give me food with my feet dry and in my own house, not leading me through wastelands and crossroads, He could do it at very little cost and just by wanting it, then of course my happiness would be firmer and truer, for what I feel now is mixed with the sorrow of leaving you; and so, I was right to say that I would be delighted, if it was God\u2019s will, not to be happy.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cLook, Sancho,\u201d replied Teresa, \u201cever since you became a knight errant\u2019s servant your talk is so roundabout nobody can understand you.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIt\u2019s enough if God understands me, my wife,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cfor He understands all things, and say no more about it for now; you should know, Teresa, that you have to take special care of the donkey for the next three days, so that he\u2019s ready to carry weapons: double his feed and look over the packsaddle and the rest of the trappings; we\u2019re not going to a wedding but to travel the world and have our battles with giants, dragons, and monsters, and hear their hisses, roars, bellows, and shrieks, and none of that would matter very much if we didn\u2019t have to contend with Yanguesans and enchanted Moors.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI do believe, my husband, that squires errant don\u2019t get their bread for nothing, and so I\u2019ll keep praying that Our Lord delivers you soon from so much misfortune.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI\u2019ll tell you, Teresa,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cthat if I didn\u2019t expect to be the governor of an \u00ednsula before too much more time goes by, I\u2019d fall down dead right here.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cNot that, my husband,\u201d said Teresa, \u201clet the chicken live even if she has the pip; may you live, and let the devil take all the governorships there are in the world; you came out of your mother\u2019s womb without a governorship, and you\u2019ve lived until now without a governorship, and when it pleases God you\u2019ll go, or they\u2019ll carry you, to the grave without a governorship. Many people in the world live without a governorship, and that doesn\u2019t make them give up or not be counted among the living. The best sauce in the world is hunger, and since poor people have plenty of that, they always eat with great pleasure. But look, Sancho: if you happen to find yourself a governor somewhere, don\u2019t forget about me and your children. Remember that Sanchico is already fifteen, and he ought to go to school if his uncle the abbot is going to bring him into the Church. And don\u2019t forget that our daughter, Mari Sancha, won\u2019t die if <\/a>we marry her; she keeps dropping hints that she wants a husband as much as you want to be a governor, and when all is said and done, a daughter\u2019s better off badly married than happily kept.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cBy my faith, Teresa,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cif God lets me have any kind of governorship, I\u2019ll marry Mari Sancha so high up that nobody will be able to reach her unless they call her Se\u00f1ora.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cDon\u2019t do that, Sancho,\u201d responded Teresa. \u201cShe should marry an equal, that\u2019s the best thing; if you raise her from wooden clogs to cork-soled mules, from homespun petticoats to silken hoopskirts and dressing gowns, and from you, Marica<\/span> to Do\u00f1a<\/span> and my lady,<\/span> the girl won\u2019t know who she is, and wherever she turns she\u2019ll make a thousand mistakes and show that the threads of her cloth are rough and coarse.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cQuiet, fool,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cshe just needs to practice for two or three years, and then the nobility and the dignity will be a perfect fit; if not, what difference does it make? Let her be my lady,<\/span> and it won\u2019t matter.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cBe content with your station,\u201d responded Teresa, \u201cand don\u2019t try to go to a higher one; remember the proverb that says: \u2018Take your neighbor\u2019s son, wipe his nose, and bring him into your house.\u2019 Sure, it would be very nice to marry our Mar\u00eda to some wretch of a count or gentleman who might take a notion to insult her and call her lowborn, the daughter of peasants and spinners! Not in my lifetime, my husband! I didn\u2019t bring up my daughter for that! You bring the money, Sancho, and leave her marrying to me; there\u2019s Lope Tocho, the son of Juan Tocho, a sturdy, healthy boy, and we know him, and I know for a fact that he doesn\u2019t dislike the girl; he\u2019s our equal, and she would make a good marriage with him, and we\u2019d always see her, and we\u2019d all be together, parents and children, grandchildren and in-laws, and the peace and blessing of God would be with us; so don\u2019t go marrying her in those courts and great palaces where they don\u2019t understand her and she won\u2019t understand herself.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cCome here, you imbecile, you troublemaker,\u201d replied Sancho. \u201cWhy do you want to stop me now, and for no good reason, from marrying my daughter to somebody who\u2019ll give me grandchildren they\u2019ll call Lord<\/span> and Lady?<\/span> Look, Teresa: I\u2019ve always heard the old folks say that if you don\u2019t know how to enjoy good luck when it comes, you shouldn\u2019t complain if it passes you by. It wouldn\u2019t be a good idea, now that it\u2019s come knocking, to shut the door in its face; we should let the favorable wind that\u2019s blowing carry us along.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

(This manner of speaking, and what Sancho says below, is why the translator of this history considered this chapter apocryphal.)<\/p>\r\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you think, you ignorant woman,\u201d Sancho continued, \u201cthat it <\/a>will be good for me to come into some profitable governorship that will take us out of poverty? Let Mari Sancha marry the man I choose, and you\u2019ll see how they start calling you Do\u00f1a Teresa Panza,<\/span> and you\u2019ll sit in church on a rug with pillows and tapestries, in spite of and regardless of all the gentlewomen in town. But no, not you, you\u2019d rather always stay the same, never changing, like a figure in a wall hanging! And we\u2019re not talking about this anymore; Sanchica will be a countess no matter what you say.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cDo you hear what you\u2019re saying, husband?\u201d responded Teresa. \u201cWell, even so, I\u2019m afraid that if my daughter becomes a countess it will be her ruin. You\u2019ll do whatever you want, whether you make her a duchess or a princess, but I can tell you it won\u2019t be with my agreement or consent. Sancho, I\u2019ve always been in favor of equality, and I can\u2019t stand to see somebody putting on airs for no reason. They baptized me Teresa, a plain and simple name without any additions or decorations or trimmings of Dons<\/span> or Do\u00f1as;<\/span> my father\u2019s name was Cascajo, and because I\u2019m your wife, they call me Teresa Panza, though they really ought to call me Teresa Cascajo. But where laws go kings follow,333<\/a><\/span><\/sup> and I\u2019m satisfied with this name without anybody adding on a Do\u00f1a<\/span> that weighs so much I can\u2019t carry it, and I don\u2019t want to give people who see me walking around dressed in a countish or governorish way a chance to say: \u2018Look at the airs that sow is putting on! Yesterday she was busy pulling on a tuft of flax for spinning, and she went to Mass and covered her head with her skirts instead of a mantilla, and today she has a hoopskirt and brooches and airs, as if we didn\u2019t know who she was.\u2019 If God preserves my seven senses, or five, or however many I have, I don\u2019t intend to let anybody see me in a spot like that. You, my husband, go and be a governor or an insular and put on all the airs you like; I swear on my mother\u2019s life that my daughter and I won\u2019t set foot out of our village: to keep her chaste, break her leg and keep her in the house; for a chaste girl, work is her fiesta. You go with your Don Quixote and have your adventures, and leave us with our misfortunes, for God will set them right if we\u2019re good; I certainly don\u2019t know who gave him a Don,<\/span> because his parents and grandparents never had one.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cNow I\u2019ll say,\u201d replied Sancho, \u201cthat you must have an evil spirit in that body of yours. God save you, woman, what a lot of things you\u2019ve strung together willy-nilly! What do Cascajo, brooches, proverbs, and putting on airs have to do with what I\u2019m saying? Come here, you simple, <\/a>ignorant woman, and I can call you that because you don\u2019t understand my words and try to run away from good luck. If I had said that my daughter ought to throw herself off a tower or go roaming around the way the Infanta Do\u00f1a Urraca wanted to,334<\/a><\/span><\/sup> you\u2019d be right not to go along with me; but if in two shakes and in the wink of an eye I dress her in a Do\u00f1a<\/span> and put a my lady<\/span> on her back for you, and take her out of the dirt and put her under a canopy and up on a pedestal in a drawing room with more velvet cushions than Moors in the line of the Almohadas of Morroco,335<\/a><\/span><\/sup> why won\u2019t you consent and want what I want?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cDo you know why, Sancho?\u201d responded Teresa. \u201cBecause of the proverb that says: \u2018Whoever tries to conceal you, reveals you!\u2019 Nobody does more than glance at the poor, but they look closely at the rich; if a rich man was once poor, that\u2019s where the whispers and rumors begin, and the wicked murmurs of gossips who crowd the streets like swarms of bees.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cLook, Teresa,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cand listen to what I want to tell you now; maybe you haven\u2019t ever heard it in all the days of your life, and what I\u2019m saying now isn\u2019t something I made up on my own; everything I plan to say to you are the judgments of the priest who preached in this village during Lent last year, and if I remember correctly, he said that things which are present and before our eyes appear, are, and remain in our memory much more clearly and sharply than things that are past.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

(All the words that Sancho says here are the second of his statements that cause the translator to consider this chapter apocryphal, for they far exceed the capacity of Sancho, who continued, saying:)<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThis accounts for the fact that when we see someone finely dressed and wearing rich clothes and with a train of servants, it seems that some force moves and induces us to respect him, although at that moment our memory recalls the lowliness in which we once saw that person; and that shame, whether of poverty or low birth, is in the past and no longer exists, and what is is only what we see in front of us in the present. And if this man, whose earlier lowliness has been erased by the good fortune (these were the very words that the priest said) that has raised him to prosperity, is well-mannered, generous, and courteous with everyone, and does not compete with those who have been noble since ancient times, you can be sure, Teresa, that nobody will remember what he was <\/a>but will revere him for what he is, unless they are envious, and no good fortune is safe from envy.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand you, my husband,\u201d replied Teresa, \u201cso do what you want and don\u2019t give me any more headaches with your long speeches and fine words. And if you\u2019re revolved to do what you say\u2014\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cResolved<\/span> is what you should say, Teresa,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cnot revolved.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\r\n

\u201cDon\u2019t start an argument with me, Sancho,\u201d responded Teresa. \u201cI talk as God wills, and let\u2019s stick to the subject; I say that if you\u2019re determined to have a governorship, you should take your son, Sanchico, along so you can teach him how to be a governor; it\u2019s a good thing for sons to inherit and learn the trades of their fathers.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cAs soon as I have the governorship,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cI\u2019ll send for him posthaste, and I\u2019ll send you some money; I\u2019ll have plenty, because there are always plenty of people who lend money to governors when they don\u2019t have any; and be sure to dress him so that you hide what he is and he looks like what he\u2019ll become.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cYou just send the money,\u201d said Teresa, \u201cand I\u2019ll dress him up as nice as you please.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSo then we agree,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cthat our daughter will be a countess.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThe day I see her a countess,\u201d responded Teresa, \u201cwill be the day I\u2019ll have to bury her; but again I say that you should do whatever you want; women are born with the obligation to obey their husbands even if they\u2019re fools.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

And at this she began to cry as piteously as if she already saw Sanchica dead and buried. Sancho consoled her, saying that even if he had to make her a countess, he would delay it as long as he could. This ended their conversation, and Sancho returned to see Don Quixote and arrange for their departure.<\/p>\r\n\r\n","rendered":"

CHAPTER V<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

Concerning the clever and amusing talk that passed between Sancho Panza and his wife, Teresa Panza, and other events worthy of happy memory<\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n

\"image\"<\/p>\n

(When the translator332<\/a><\/span><\/sup> came to write this fifth chapter, he says he thought it was apocryphal, because in it Sancho Panza speaks in a manner different from what one might expect of his limited intelligence, and says things so subtle one would not think it possible that he knew them; but the translator did not wish to omit it, for the sake of his professional obligations, and so he continued, saying:)<\/p>\n

Sancho came home so happy and joyful that his wife could see his joy at a distance, which obliged her to ask:<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the news, Sancho my friend, that makes you so happy?\u201d<\/p>\n

To which he responded:<\/p>\n

\u201cMy wife, if it were God\u2019s will, I\u2019d be delighted not to be as happy as I appear.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHusband, I don\u2019t understand you,\u201d she replied, \u201cand I don\u2019t know what you mean when you say you\u2019d be delighted, if it were God\u2019s will, not to be happy; I may be a fool, but I don\u2019t know how anybody can be happy not to be happy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, Teresa,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cI\u2019m happy because I\u2019ve decided to serve my master, Don Quixote, again, for he wants to leave a third <\/a>time to seek adventures; and I\u2019ll leave with him again, because of my need and the hope, which makes me happy, of thinking that I may find another hundred escudos<\/span> like the ones that have already been spent, though it makes me sad to have to leave you and my children; and if it was God\u2019s will to give me food with my feet dry and in my own house, not leading me through wastelands and crossroads, He could do it at very little cost and just by wanting it, then of course my happiness would be firmer and truer, for what I feel now is mixed with the sorrow of leaving you; and so, I was right to say that I would be delighted, if it was God\u2019s will, not to be happy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, Sancho,\u201d replied Teresa, \u201cever since you became a knight errant\u2019s servant your talk is so roundabout nobody can understand you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s enough if God understands me, my wife,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cfor He understands all things, and say no more about it for now; you should know, Teresa, that you have to take special care of the donkey for the next three days, so that he\u2019s ready to carry weapons: double his feed and look over the packsaddle and the rest of the trappings; we\u2019re not going to a wedding but to travel the world and have our battles with giants, dragons, and monsters, and hear their hisses, roars, bellows, and shrieks, and none of that would matter very much if we didn\u2019t have to contend with Yanguesans and enchanted Moors.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do believe, my husband, that squires errant don\u2019t get their bread for nothing, and so I\u2019ll keep praying that Our Lord delivers you soon from so much misfortune.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll tell you, Teresa,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cthat if I didn\u2019t expect to be the governor of an \u00ednsula before too much more time goes by, I\u2019d fall down dead right here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot that, my husband,\u201d said Teresa, \u201clet the chicken live even if she has the pip; may you live, and let the devil take all the governorships there are in the world; you came out of your mother\u2019s womb without a governorship, and you\u2019ve lived until now without a governorship, and when it pleases God you\u2019ll go, or they\u2019ll carry you, to the grave without a governorship. Many people in the world live without a governorship, and that doesn\u2019t make them give up or not be counted among the living. The best sauce in the world is hunger, and since poor people have plenty of that, they always eat with great pleasure. But look, Sancho: if you happen to find yourself a governor somewhere, don\u2019t forget about me and your children. Remember that Sanchico is already fifteen, and he ought to go to school if his uncle the abbot is going to bring him into the Church. And don\u2019t forget that our daughter, Mari Sancha, won\u2019t die if <\/a>we marry her; she keeps dropping hints that she wants a husband as much as you want to be a governor, and when all is said and done, a daughter\u2019s better off badly married than happily kept.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBy my faith, Teresa,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cif God lets me have any kind of governorship, I\u2019ll marry Mari Sancha so high up that nobody will be able to reach her unless they call her Se\u00f1ora.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t do that, Sancho,\u201d responded Teresa. \u201cShe should marry an equal, that\u2019s the best thing; if you raise her from wooden clogs to cork-soled mules, from homespun petticoats to silken hoopskirts and dressing gowns, and from you, Marica<\/span> to Do\u00f1a<\/span> and my lady,<\/span> the girl won\u2019t know who she is, and wherever she turns she\u2019ll make a thousand mistakes and show that the threads of her cloth are rough and coarse.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cQuiet, fool,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cshe just needs to practice for two or three years, and then the nobility and the dignity will be a perfect fit; if not, what difference does it make? Let her be my lady,<\/span> and it won\u2019t matter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBe content with your station,\u201d responded Teresa, \u201cand don\u2019t try to go to a higher one; remember the proverb that says: \u2018Take your neighbor\u2019s son, wipe his nose, and bring him into your house.\u2019 Sure, it would be very nice to marry our Mar\u00eda to some wretch of a count or gentleman who might take a notion to insult her and call her lowborn, the daughter of peasants and spinners! Not in my lifetime, my husband! I didn\u2019t bring up my daughter for that! You bring the money, Sancho, and leave her marrying to me; there\u2019s Lope Tocho, the son of Juan Tocho, a sturdy, healthy boy, and we know him, and I know for a fact that he doesn\u2019t dislike the girl; he\u2019s our equal, and she would make a good marriage with him, and we\u2019d always see her, and we\u2019d all be together, parents and children, grandchildren and in-laws, and the peace and blessing of God would be with us; so don\u2019t go marrying her in those courts and great palaces where they don\u2019t understand her and she won\u2019t understand herself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome here, you imbecile, you troublemaker,\u201d replied Sancho. \u201cWhy do you want to stop me now, and for no good reason, from marrying my daughter to somebody who\u2019ll give me grandchildren they\u2019ll call Lord<\/span> and Lady?<\/span> Look, Teresa: I\u2019ve always heard the old folks say that if you don\u2019t know how to enjoy good luck when it comes, you shouldn\u2019t complain if it passes you by. It wouldn\u2019t be a good idea, now that it\u2019s come knocking, to shut the door in its face; we should let the favorable wind that\u2019s blowing carry us along.\u201d<\/p>\n

(This manner of speaking, and what Sancho says below, is why the translator of this history considered this chapter apocryphal.)<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you think, you ignorant woman,\u201d Sancho continued, \u201cthat it <\/a>will be good for me to come into some profitable governorship that will take us out of poverty? Let Mari Sancha marry the man I choose, and you\u2019ll see how they start calling you Do\u00f1a Teresa Panza,<\/span> and you\u2019ll sit in church on a rug with pillows and tapestries, in spite of and regardless of all the gentlewomen in town. But no, not you, you\u2019d rather always stay the same, never changing, like a figure in a wall hanging! And we\u2019re not talking about this anymore; Sanchica will be a countess no matter what you say.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you hear what you\u2019re saying, husband?\u201d responded Teresa. \u201cWell, even so, I\u2019m afraid that if my daughter becomes a countess it will be her ruin. You\u2019ll do whatever you want, whether you make her a duchess or a princess, but I can tell you it won\u2019t be with my agreement or consent. Sancho, I\u2019ve always been in favor of equality, and I can\u2019t stand to see somebody putting on airs for no reason. They baptized me Teresa, a plain and simple name without any additions or decorations or trimmings of Dons<\/span> or Do\u00f1as;<\/span> my father\u2019s name was Cascajo, and because I\u2019m your wife, they call me Teresa Panza, though they really ought to call me Teresa Cascajo. But where laws go kings follow,333<\/a><\/span><\/sup> and I\u2019m satisfied with this name without anybody adding on a Do\u00f1a<\/span> that weighs so much I can\u2019t carry it, and I don\u2019t want to give people who see me walking around dressed in a countish or governorish way a chance to say: \u2018Look at the airs that sow is putting on! Yesterday she was busy pulling on a tuft of flax for spinning, and she went to Mass and covered her head with her skirts instead of a mantilla, and today she has a hoopskirt and brooches and airs, as if we didn\u2019t know who she was.\u2019 If God preserves my seven senses, or five, or however many I have, I don\u2019t intend to let anybody see me in a spot like that. You, my husband, go and be a governor or an insular and put on all the airs you like; I swear on my mother\u2019s life that my daughter and I won\u2019t set foot out of our village: to keep her chaste, break her leg and keep her in the house; for a chaste girl, work is her fiesta. You go with your Don Quixote and have your adventures, and leave us with our misfortunes, for God will set them right if we\u2019re good; I certainly don\u2019t know who gave him a Don,<\/span> because his parents and grandparents never had one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow I\u2019ll say,\u201d replied Sancho, \u201cthat you must have an evil spirit in that body of yours. God save you, woman, what a lot of things you\u2019ve strung together willy-nilly! What do Cascajo, brooches, proverbs, and putting on airs have to do with what I\u2019m saying? Come here, you simple, <\/a>ignorant woman, and I can call you that because you don\u2019t understand my words and try to run away from good luck. If I had said that my daughter ought to throw herself off a tower or go roaming around the way the Infanta Do\u00f1a Urraca wanted to,334<\/a><\/span><\/sup> you\u2019d be right not to go along with me; but if in two shakes and in the wink of an eye I dress her in a Do\u00f1a<\/span> and put a my lady<\/span> on her back for you, and take her out of the dirt and put her under a canopy and up on a pedestal in a drawing room with more velvet cushions than Moors in the line of the Almohadas of Morroco,335<\/a><\/span><\/sup> why won\u2019t you consent and want what I want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you know why, Sancho?\u201d responded Teresa. \u201cBecause of the proverb that says: \u2018Whoever tries to conceal you, reveals you!\u2019 Nobody does more than glance at the poor, but they look closely at the rich; if a rich man was once poor, that\u2019s where the whispers and rumors begin, and the wicked murmurs of gossips who crowd the streets like swarms of bees.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, Teresa,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cand listen to what I want to tell you now; maybe you haven\u2019t ever heard it in all the days of your life, and what I\u2019m saying now isn\u2019t something I made up on my own; everything I plan to say to you are the judgments of the priest who preached in this village during Lent last year, and if I remember correctly, he said that things which are present and before our eyes appear, are, and remain in our memory much more clearly and sharply than things that are past.\u201d<\/p>\n

(All the words that Sancho says here are the second of his statements that cause the translator to consider this chapter apocryphal, for they far exceed the capacity of Sancho, who continued, saying:)<\/p>\n

\u201cThis accounts for the fact that when we see someone finely dressed and wearing rich clothes and with a train of servants, it seems that some force moves and induces us to respect him, although at that moment our memory recalls the lowliness in which we once saw that person; and that shame, whether of poverty or low birth, is in the past and no longer exists, and what is is only what we see in front of us in the present. And if this man, whose earlier lowliness has been erased by the good fortune (these were the very words that the priest said) that has raised him to prosperity, is well-mannered, generous, and courteous with everyone, and does not compete with those who have been noble since ancient times, you can be sure, Teresa, that nobody will remember what he was <\/a>but will revere him for what he is, unless they are envious, and no good fortune is safe from envy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand you, my husband,\u201d replied Teresa, \u201cso do what you want and don\u2019t give me any more headaches with your long speeches and fine words. And if you\u2019re revolved to do what you say\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cResolved<\/span> is what you should say, Teresa,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cnot revolved.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t start an argument with me, Sancho,\u201d responded Teresa. \u201cI talk as God wills, and let\u2019s stick to the subject; I say that if you\u2019re determined to have a governorship, you should take your son, Sanchico, along so you can teach him how to be a governor; it\u2019s a good thing for sons to inherit and learn the trades of their fathers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs soon as I have the governorship,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cI\u2019ll send for him posthaste, and I\u2019ll send you some money; I\u2019ll have plenty, because there are always plenty of people who lend money to governors when they don\u2019t have any; and be sure to dress him so that you hide what he is and he looks like what he\u2019ll become.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou just send the money,\u201d said Teresa, \u201cand I\u2019ll dress him up as nice as you please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo then we agree,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cthat our daughter will be a countess.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe day I see her a countess,\u201d responded Teresa, \u201cwill be the day I\u2019ll have to bury her; but again I say that you should do whatever you want; women are born with the obligation to obey their husbands even if they\u2019re fools.\u201d<\/p>\n

And at this she began to cry as piteously as if she already saw Sanchica dead and buried. Sancho consoled her, saying that even if he had to make her a countess, he would delay it as long as he could. This ended their conversation, and Sancho returned to see Don Quixote and arrange for their departure.<\/p>\n

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