{"id":256,"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-xx-2\/"},"modified":"2020-03-25T08:12:27","modified_gmt":"2020-03-25T08:12:27","slug":"second-part-chapter-xx","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/www.publiconsulting.com\/wordpress\/donquixoteoflamancha\/chapter\/second-part-chapter-xx\/","title":{"rendered":"Second Part. Chapter XX"},"content":{"raw":"CHAPTER XX<\/a>\r\n
\r\n

Which recounts the wedding of rich Camacho, as well as what befell poor Basilio<\/span><\/h2>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

No sooner had fair-complexioned dawn allowed bright Phoebus, with the ardor of his burning rays, to dry the liquid pearls of her golden tresses, than Don Quixote, shaking idleness from his limbs, rose to his feet and called to his squire, Sancho, who was still snoring; and Don Quixote saw this, and before he woke him he said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cO thou, more fortunate than all those who live on the face of the <\/a>earth, for thou dost not envy nor art thou envied, and thou sleepest with a tranquil spirit, and thou art not pursued by enchanters, nor art thou alarmed by enchantments! Thou sleepest, I say it again and shall say it a hundred times more, without jealousy of thy lady keeping thee continually awake, nor thoughts of how to pay the debts thou owest, nor what thou must do to feed thyself and thy small, anguished family for another day. Ambition doth not disturb thee, nor doth the vain pomp of the world trouble thee, for the limits of thy desires extendeth not beyond caring for thy donkey; thou hast placed care for thine own person on my shoulders, a weight and a burden that nature and custom hath given to masters. The servant sleepeth, and the master standeth watch, thinking of how he may sustain him, and improve him, and grant him favors. The anguish of seeing the sky turning to bronze and not giving succor to the earth with needed dew doth not afflict the servant but the master, who must sustain in barrenness and hunger the one who served in fertility and plenty.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Sancho did not respond to any of this because he was asleep, and he would not have awakened very quickly if Don Quixote, with the blunt end of his lance, had not brought him back to consciousness. He awoke, finally, sleepy and lazy, and turning his head in every direction, he said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cComing from the direction of that bower, if I\u2019m not mistaken, there\u2019s an aroma that smells much more like a roasted side of bacon than reeds and thyme: by my faith, weddings that begin with smells like this must be plentiful and generous.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cEnough, you glutton,\u201d said Don Quixote. \u201cCome, we shall go to this ceremony to see what the scorned Basilio will do.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cNo matter what he does, what he\u2019d like,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cis not to be poor and to marry Quiteria. He doesn\u2019t have a cuarto<\/span> and he wants to rise up above the clouds? By my faith, Se\u00f1or, I think a poor man should be content with whatever he finds and not go asking for the moon. I bet an arm that Camacho can bury Basilio in reales,<\/span> and if that\u2019s true, as it must be, Quiteria would be a fool to give up the fine gifts and jewels that Camacho must have given her already, and still can give her, for the way Basilio hurls the bar and fences. A good throw and some nice swordplay won\u2019t get you a half-liter of wine at the tavern. Talents and skills that can\u2019t be sold are fine for Count Dirlos,387<\/a><\/span><\/sup> but <\/a>when those talents fall to somebody who has good money, then that\u2019s the life I\u2019d like to have. With a good foundation you can build a good building, and the best foundation and groundwork in the world is money.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cFor the love of God, Sancho,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cthat\u2019s enough of your harangue. I really believe that if you were allowed to go on with the ones you are constantly beginning, you would not have time to eat or sleep: you would spend all of it talking.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIf your grace had a good memory,\u201d replied Sancho, \u201cyou\u2019d remember the provisions of our agreement before we left home this last time: one of them was that you\u2019d have to let me talk all I wanted as long as I didn\u2019t say anything against my neighbor or your grace\u2019s authority, and so far it seems to me I haven\u2019t disobeyed that provision.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI do not remember, Sancho,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cany such provision, and since that is so, I want you to be quiet and come along now; the instruments we heard last night again gladden the valleys, and no doubt the wedding will be celebrated in the coolness of the morning, not in the heat of the afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Sancho did as his master commanded and placed the saddle on Rocinante and the packsaddle on the donkey; the two men mounted, and at an unhurried pace, they rode under the bower.<\/p>\r\n

The first thing that appeared before Sancho\u2019s eyes was an entire steer on a roasting spit made of an entire elm; and in the fire where it was to roast, a fair-size mountain of wood was burning, and six pots that were placed around the fire were not made in the common mold of other pots, because these were six huge cauldrons, each one large enough to hold the contents of an entire slaughterhouse: they contained and enclosed entire sheep, which sank out of view as if they were doves; the hares without their skins and the chickens without their feathers that were hanging from the trees, waiting to be buried in the cauldrons, were without number; the various kinds of fowl and game hanging from the trees to cool in the breeze were infinite.<\/p>\r\n

Sancho counted more than sixty wineskins, each one holding more than two arrobas,<\/span> 388<\/a><\/span><\/sup> and all of them filled, as was subsequently proven, with excellent wines; there were also mounds of snowy white loaves of bread, heaped up like piles of wheat on the threshing floor; cheeses, <\/a>crisscrossed like bricks, formed a wall; and two kettles of oil larger than a dyer\u2019s vats were used to fry rounds of dough, which were then removed with two strong paddles and plunged into another kettle filled with honey that stood nearby.<\/p>\r\n

The cooks, male and female, numbered more than fifty, all of them devoted, diligent, and contented. Twelve small, tender suckling pigs were sewn into the expanded belly of the steer to give it flavor and make it tender. The various spices seemed to have been bought not by the pound but by the arroba,<\/span> and all of them were clearly visible in a large chest. In short, the provisions for the wedding were rustic, but so abundant they could have fed an army.<\/p>\r\n

Sancho Panza observed everything, and contemplated everything, and felt affection for everything. First, his desire was captivated and conquered by the cauldrons, from which he gladly would have filled a medium-size pot; then his affections were won over by the wineskins; finally, the fruits of the skillet, if one could call the big-bellied kettles skillets; and so, when he could bear it no longer, and it was not in his power to do anything else, he approached one of the diligent cooks and in courteous and hungry terms asked to be allowed to dip a crust of bread into one of those cauldrons. To which the cook responded:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cBrother, thanks to rich Camacho, hunger has no jurisdiction today. Dismount and see if you can find a ladle, and skim off a chicken or two, and hearty appetite to you.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI don\u2019t see one,\u201d responded Sancho.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cWait,\u201d said the cook. \u201cLord save me, but what a squeamish, fussy fellow you must be!\u201d<\/p>\r\n

And having said this, he seized a pot and dipped it into one of the cauldrons, then took out three chickens and two geese and said to Sancho:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cEat, my friend, and break your fast with these skimmings until it\u2019s time to eat.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have anything to put them in,\u201d responded Sancho.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThen take everything, the pot and all,\u201d said the cook, \u201cfor the riches and the happiness of Camacho will overlook that.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

While Sancho was engaged in these matters, Don Quixote watched as some twelve farmers, dressed in their best holiday clothes and mounted on twelve beautiful mares decked out in rich and colorful rustic trappings, with a good number of bells on the breast straps of their <\/a>harnesses, rode under the bower; in an orderly troop they galloped not once but many times around the meadow, joyfully crying and shouting:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cLong live Camacho and Quiteria! He\u2019s as rich as she\u2019s fair, and she\u2019s the fairest in the world!\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Hearing which, Don Quixote said to himself:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIt certainly seems that they have not seen my Dulcinea of Toboso, for if they had, they would restrain their praises of Quiteria.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

A short while later, many different groups of dancers began to come under the bower, among them one performing a sword dance with twenty-four young men of gallant and spirited appearance, all dressed in thin white linen and wearing head scarves of fine, multicolored silk; one of the men mounted on mares asked their leader, an agile youth, if any of the dancers had been hurt.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSo far, thank God, nobody\u2019s been hurt: we\u2019re all fine.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

And then he began to wind his way among his companions, twisting and turning with so much skill that although Don Quixote had seen many such dances, he had never seen one as good as this.<\/p>\r\n

He also liked another group that came in, composed of beautiful young maidens, none younger than fourteen, none older than eighteen, all dressed in fine green cloth, their hair partly braided and partly hanging loose, and so blond it could compete with the rays of the sun; and in their hair they wore garlands made of jasmine, roses, amaranth, and honeysuckle. They were led by a venerable old man and an ancient matron, more agile and nimble than their years would lead one to expect. Their music was played by a Zamoran bagpipe, and the maidens, with modesty in their eyes and on their faces, and with agility in their feet, showed themselves to be the best dancers in the world.<\/p>\r\n

Behind them came another troop in an ingenious dance, the kind that is called a spoken dance. It consisted of eight nymphs, divided into two lines: at the head of one line was the god Cupid, and at the head of the other, Interest, the former adorned with wings, a bow, and a quiver of arrows, the latter dressed in richly colored silks and gold. The nymphs who followed Love had their names, written on white parchment in large letters, on their backs. Poetry<\/span> was the name of the first, Discretion<\/span> the name of the second, the third was called Good Lineage,<\/span> and the fourth Valor.<\/span> Those who followed Interest were identified in the same fashion: Liberality<\/span> was the name of the first, Gifts<\/span> the name of the second, the third was called Treasure,<\/span> and the fourth <\/a>Peaceful Ownership.<\/span> At the head of all of them came a wooden castle, drawn by four savages dressed in ivy and green-dyed hemp and looking so natural they almost frightened Sancho. On the main facade of the castle, and on all four of its sides, was written The Castle of Caution.<\/span> Their music was played on the timbrel and flute by four skilled musicians.<\/p>\r\n

Cupid began the dance, and having completed two figures, he raised his eyes and shot an arrow at a maiden standing on the parapets of the castle, saying:<\/p>\r\n\r\n

\r\n

I am a god most powerful<\/p>\r\n

in the air and on the land<\/p>\r\n

and the wide, wind-driven sea,<\/p>\r\n

and in the fiery pit<\/p>\r\n

and the fearful hell it contains.<\/p>\r\n

Fear\u2019s something I\u2019ve never known;<\/p>\r\n

whatever I wish I can do,<\/p>\r\n

though it may well be impossible;<\/p>\r\n

in the realm of the possible I rule,<\/p>\r\n

and give and take away at will.<\/p>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n

He finished the strophe, shot an arrow over the castle, and returned to his place. Then Interest came forward and executed another two figures; the timbrels fell silent, and he said:<\/p>\r\n\r\n

\r\n

I am mightier than Love,<\/p>\r\n

though it is Love who guides me;<\/p>\r\n

I am of the finest stock,<\/p>\r\n

the best known and the noblest,<\/p>\r\n

that heaven breeds on earth.<\/p>\r\n

I am Interest, and for my sake<\/p>\r\n

few men do the deeds they should,<\/p>\r\n

though deeds sans<\/span> me are miracles;<\/p>\r\n

I swear my devotion to you<\/p>\r\n

forever, world without end, amen.<\/p>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n

Interest stepped back, Poetry came forward, and after performing her figures as the others had, she turned her eyes toward the maiden of the castle and said:<\/p>\r\n \r\n

\r\n

In conceits most sweet and high,<\/p>\r\n

noble, solemn, and discreet,<\/p>\r\n

gentle Poetry, my lady,<\/p>\r\n

sends her soul to you in lines<\/p>\r\n

found in a thousand new sonnets.<\/p>\r\n

If my pleas and constant prayers<\/p>\r\n

do not weary you, your fortune,<\/p>\r\n

envied by so many damsels,<\/p>\r\n

will be raised on high by me,<\/p>\r\n

to the Circle of the Moon.<\/p>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n

Poetry moved away, and from the side where Interest stood, Liberality stepped forward, performed her figures, and said:<\/p>\r\n\r\n

\r\n

Liberality is the name<\/p>\r\n

of giving that shuns th\u2019 extremes<\/p>\r\n

of either prodigality<\/p>\r\n

or its opposite, th\u2019 unwilling<\/p>\r\n

hand of a miserly soul.<\/p>\r\n

But, in order to praise you,<\/p>\r\n

today I shall be prodigal,<\/p>\r\n

and though a vice, it is honored<\/p>\r\n

from a heart that is enamored,<\/p>\r\n

and in giving shows its love.<\/p>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n

In this fashion all the dancers in the two bands came forward and then withdrew, and each one performed her figures and said her verses, some of them elegant and some ridiculous, but Don Quixote could retain in his memory\u2014which was very good\u2014only those that have been cited; then all the dancers mingled, forming pairs and then separating with gentle grace and ease, and when Love passed in front of the castle, he shot his arrows into the air, but Interest broke gilded money boxes against it.<\/p>\r\n

Finally, after having danced for some time, Interest took out a large bag made of the skin of a big Roman cat,389<\/a><\/span><\/sup> which seemed to be full of coins, and threw it at the castle, and at the impact the boards fell apart and collapsed, leaving the maiden exposed and without any defenses. Interest approached with the dancers in his group, put a long gold chain <\/a>around her neck, and pretended to seize and subdue her and make her his prisoner; when Love and his companions saw this, they moved to free her, and all these displays were made to the sound of the timbrels as they danced and twirled in harmony. The savages imposed peace when they quickly set up and put together again the boards of the castle, and the maiden went back inside, concluding the dance that had been watched with great pleasure by the spectators.<\/p>\r\n

Don Quixote asked one of the nymphs who had composed and directed it. She responded that it was a cleric, a beneficiary from the village who had a great talent for these kinds of inventions.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI would wager,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cthat this beneficiary or bachelor must be more of a friend to Camacho than to Basilio, and that he is more inclined to writing satires than to saying his prayers at vespers. How well he has incorporated into the dance Basilio\u2019s skills and Camacho\u2019s wealth!\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Sancho Panza, who heard everything, said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cMy cock\u2019s king;390<\/a><\/span><\/sup> I\u2019m on Camacho\u2019s side.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIn short,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cit seems clear, Sancho, that you are a peasant, the kind who shouts, \u2018Long live whoever wins!\u2019\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know what kind I am,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cbut I do know that I\u2019d never get such fine skimmings from Basilio\u2019s pots as I\u2019ve gotten from Camacho\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

And he showed him the pot full of geese and chickens, and seizing one of them, he began to eat with great verve and enthusiasm, saying:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cTo hell with Basilio\u2019s talents! You\u2019re worth what you have, and what you have is what you\u2019re worth. There are only two lineages in the world, as my grandmother used to say, and that\u2019s the haves and the have-nots, though she was on the side of having; nowadays, Se\u00f1or Don Quixote, wealth is better than wisdom: an ass covered in gold seems better than a saddled horse. And so I say again that I\u2019m on the side of Camacho, whose pots are overflowing with geese and chickens, hares and rabbits, while Basilio\u2019s, if they ever show up, and even if they don\u2019t, won\u2019t hold anything but watered wine.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cHave you finished your harangue, Sancho?\u201d said Don Quixote.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI must have,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cbecause I see that your grace is bothered by it; if you hadn\u2019t cut this one short, I could have gone on for another three days.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cMay it please God, Sancho,\u201d replied Don Quixote, \u201cthat I see you mute before I die.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cAt the rate we\u2019re going,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cbefore your grace dies I\u2019ll be chewing on mud, and then maybe I\u2019ll be so mute I won\u2019t say a word till the end of the world or, at least, until Judgment Day.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cOh, Sancho, even if that should happen,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cyour silence will never match all that you have said, are saying, and will say in your lifetime! Furthermore, it seems likely in the natural course of events that the day of my death will arrive before yours, and so I think I shall never see you mute, not even when you are drinking, or sleeping, which is what I earnestly desire.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cBy my faith, Se\u00f1or,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cyou mustn\u2019t trust in the fleshless woman, I mean Death, who devours lamb as well as mutton; I\u2019ve heard our priest say that she tramples the high towers of kings as well as the humble huts of the poor. This lady is more powerful than finicky; nothing disgusts her, she eats everything, and she does everything, and she crams her pack with all kinds and ages and ranks of people. She\u2019s not a reaper who takes naps; she reaps constantly and cuts the dry grass along with the green, and she doesn\u2019t seem to chew her food but wolfs it down and swallows everything that\u2019s put in front of her, because she\u2019s as hungry as a dog and is never satisfied; and though she has no belly, it\u2019s clear that she has dropsy and is always thirsty and ready to drink down the lives of everyone living, like somebody drinking a pitcher of cold water.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cEnough, Sancho,\u201d said Don Quixote at this point. \u201cStop now before you fall, for the truth is that what you have said about death, in your rustic terms, is what a good preacher might say. I tell you, Sancho, with your natural wit and intelligence, you could mount a pulpit and go around preaching some very nice things.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cBeing a good preacher means living a good life,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cand I don\u2019t know any other theologies.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cYou do not need them,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cbut I cannot understand or comprehend how, since the beginning of wisdom is the fear of God, you, who fear a lizard more than you fear Him, can know so much.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or, your grace should pass judgment on your chivalries,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cand not start judging other people\u2019s fear or bravery, because I fear God as much as the next man. And your grace should let <\/a>me eat up these skimmings; all the rest is idle words, and we\u2019ll have to account for those in the next world.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

And saying this, he resumed the assault on his pot with so much gusto that he awoke the appetite of Don Quixote, who no doubt would have helped him if he had not been hindered by what must be recounted below.<\/p>\r\n","rendered":"

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

\n

Which recounts the wedding of rich Camacho, as well as what befell poor Basilio<\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n

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

No sooner had fair-complexioned dawn allowed bright Phoebus, with the ardor of his burning rays, to dry the liquid pearls of her golden tresses, than Don Quixote, shaking idleness from his limbs, rose to his feet and called to his squire, Sancho, who was still snoring; and Don Quixote saw this, and before he woke him he said:<\/p>\n

\u201cO thou, more fortunate than all those who live on the face of the <\/a>earth, for thou dost not envy nor art thou envied, and thou sleepest with a tranquil spirit, and thou art not pursued by enchanters, nor art thou alarmed by enchantments! Thou sleepest, I say it again and shall say it a hundred times more, without jealousy of thy lady keeping thee continually awake, nor thoughts of how to pay the debts thou owest, nor what thou must do to feed thyself and thy small, anguished family for another day. Ambition doth not disturb thee, nor doth the vain pomp of the world trouble thee, for the limits of thy desires extendeth not beyond caring for thy donkey; thou hast placed care for thine own person on my shoulders, a weight and a burden that nature and custom hath given to masters. The servant sleepeth, and the master standeth watch, thinking of how he may sustain him, and improve him, and grant him favors. The anguish of seeing the sky turning to bronze and not giving succor to the earth with needed dew doth not afflict the servant but the master, who must sustain in barrenness and hunger the one who served in fertility and plenty.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sancho did not respond to any of this because he was asleep, and he would not have awakened very quickly if Don Quixote, with the blunt end of his lance, had not brought him back to consciousness. He awoke, finally, sleepy and lazy, and turning his head in every direction, he said:<\/p>\n

\u201cComing from the direction of that bower, if I\u2019m not mistaken, there\u2019s an aroma that smells much more like a roasted side of bacon than reeds and thyme: by my faith, weddings that begin with smells like this must be plentiful and generous.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEnough, you glutton,\u201d said Don Quixote. \u201cCome, we shall go to this ceremony to see what the scorned Basilio will do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo matter what he does, what he\u2019d like,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cis not to be poor and to marry Quiteria. He doesn\u2019t have a cuarto<\/span> and he wants to rise up above the clouds? By my faith, Se\u00f1or, I think a poor man should be content with whatever he finds and not go asking for the moon. I bet an arm that Camacho can bury Basilio in reales,<\/span> and if that\u2019s true, as it must be, Quiteria would be a fool to give up the fine gifts and jewels that Camacho must have given her already, and still can give her, for the way Basilio hurls the bar and fences. A good throw and some nice swordplay won\u2019t get you a half-liter of wine at the tavern. Talents and skills that can\u2019t be sold are fine for Count Dirlos,387<\/a><\/span><\/sup> but <\/a>when those talents fall to somebody who has good money, then that\u2019s the life I\u2019d like to have. With a good foundation you can build a good building, and the best foundation and groundwork in the world is money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor the love of God, Sancho,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cthat\u2019s enough of your harangue. I really believe that if you were allowed to go on with the ones you are constantly beginning, you would not have time to eat or sleep: you would spend all of it talking.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf your grace had a good memory,\u201d replied Sancho, \u201cyou\u2019d remember the provisions of our agreement before we left home this last time: one of them was that you\u2019d have to let me talk all I wanted as long as I didn\u2019t say anything against my neighbor or your grace\u2019s authority, and so far it seems to me I haven\u2019t disobeyed that provision.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do not remember, Sancho,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cany such provision, and since that is so, I want you to be quiet and come along now; the instruments we heard last night again gladden the valleys, and no doubt the wedding will be celebrated in the coolness of the morning, not in the heat of the afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sancho did as his master commanded and placed the saddle on Rocinante and the packsaddle on the donkey; the two men mounted, and at an unhurried pace, they rode under the bower.<\/p>\n

The first thing that appeared before Sancho\u2019s eyes was an entire steer on a roasting spit made of an entire elm; and in the fire where it was to roast, a fair-size mountain of wood was burning, and six pots that were placed around the fire were not made in the common mold of other pots, because these were six huge cauldrons, each one large enough to hold the contents of an entire slaughterhouse: they contained and enclosed entire sheep, which sank out of view as if they were doves; the hares without their skins and the chickens without their feathers that were hanging from the trees, waiting to be buried in the cauldrons, were without number; the various kinds of fowl and game hanging from the trees to cool in the breeze were infinite.<\/p>\n

Sancho counted more than sixty wineskins, each one holding more than two arrobas,<\/span> 388<\/a><\/span><\/sup> and all of them filled, as was subsequently proven, with excellent wines; there were also mounds of snowy white loaves of bread, heaped up like piles of wheat on the threshing floor; cheeses, <\/a>crisscrossed like bricks, formed a wall; and two kettles of oil larger than a dyer\u2019s vats were used to fry rounds of dough, which were then removed with two strong paddles and plunged into another kettle filled with honey that stood nearby.<\/p>\n

The cooks, male and female, numbered more than fifty, all of them devoted, diligent, and contented. Twelve small, tender suckling pigs were sewn into the expanded belly of the steer to give it flavor and make it tender. The various spices seemed to have been bought not by the pound but by the arroba,<\/span> and all of them were clearly visible in a large chest. In short, the provisions for the wedding were rustic, but so abundant they could have fed an army.<\/p>\n

Sancho Panza observed everything, and contemplated everything, and felt affection for everything. First, his desire was captivated and conquered by the cauldrons, from which he gladly would have filled a medium-size pot; then his affections were won over by the wineskins; finally, the fruits of the skillet, if one could call the big-bellied kettles skillets; and so, when he could bear it no longer, and it was not in his power to do anything else, he approached one of the diligent cooks and in courteous and hungry terms asked to be allowed to dip a crust of bread into one of those cauldrons. To which the cook responded:<\/p>\n

\u201cBrother, thanks to rich Camacho, hunger has no jurisdiction today. Dismount and see if you can find a ladle, and skim off a chicken or two, and hearty appetite to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t see one,\u201d responded Sancho.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait,\u201d said the cook. \u201cLord save me, but what a squeamish, fussy fellow you must be!\u201d<\/p>\n

And having said this, he seized a pot and dipped it into one of the cauldrons, then took out three chickens and two geese and said to Sancho:<\/p>\n

\u201cEat, my friend, and break your fast with these skimmings until it\u2019s time to eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have anything to put them in,\u201d responded Sancho.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen take everything, the pot and all,\u201d said the cook, \u201cfor the riches and the happiness of Camacho will overlook that.\u201d<\/p>\n

While Sancho was engaged in these matters, Don Quixote watched as some twelve farmers, dressed in their best holiday clothes and mounted on twelve beautiful mares decked out in rich and colorful rustic trappings, with a good number of bells on the breast straps of their <\/a>harnesses, rode under the bower; in an orderly troop they galloped not once but many times around the meadow, joyfully crying and shouting:<\/p>\n

\u201cLong live Camacho and Quiteria! He\u2019s as rich as she\u2019s fair, and she\u2019s the fairest in the world!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hearing which, Don Quixote said to himself:<\/p>\n

\u201cIt certainly seems that they have not seen my Dulcinea of Toboso, for if they had, they would restrain their praises of Quiteria.\u201d<\/p>\n

A short while later, many different groups of dancers began to come under the bower, among them one performing a sword dance with twenty-four young men of gallant and spirited appearance, all dressed in thin white linen and wearing head scarves of fine, multicolored silk; one of the men mounted on mares asked their leader, an agile youth, if any of the dancers had been hurt.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo far, thank God, nobody\u2019s been hurt: we\u2019re all fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

And then he began to wind his way among his companions, twisting and turning with so much skill that although Don Quixote had seen many such dances, he had never seen one as good as this.<\/p>\n

He also liked another group that came in, composed of beautiful young maidens, none younger than fourteen, none older than eighteen, all dressed in fine green cloth, their hair partly braided and partly hanging loose, and so blond it could compete with the rays of the sun; and in their hair they wore garlands made of jasmine, roses, amaranth, and honeysuckle. They were led by a venerable old man and an ancient matron, more agile and nimble than their years would lead one to expect. Their music was played by a Zamoran bagpipe, and the maidens, with modesty in their eyes and on their faces, and with agility in their feet, showed themselves to be the best dancers in the world.<\/p>\n

Behind them came another troop in an ingenious dance, the kind that is called a spoken dance. It consisted of eight nymphs, divided into two lines: at the head of one line was the god Cupid, and at the head of the other, Interest, the former adorned with wings, a bow, and a quiver of arrows, the latter dressed in richly colored silks and gold. The nymphs who followed Love had their names, written on white parchment in large letters, on their backs. Poetry<\/span> was the name of the first, Discretion<\/span> the name of the second, the third was called Good Lineage,<\/span> and the fourth Valor.<\/span> Those who followed Interest were identified in the same fashion: Liberality<\/span> was the name of the first, Gifts<\/span> the name of the second, the third was called Treasure,<\/span> and the fourth <\/a>Peaceful Ownership.<\/span> At the head of all of them came a wooden castle, drawn by four savages dressed in ivy and green-dyed hemp and looking so natural they almost frightened Sancho. On the main facade of the castle, and on all four of its sides, was written The Castle of Caution.<\/span> Their music was played on the timbrel and flute by four skilled musicians.<\/p>\n

Cupid began the dance, and having completed two figures, he raised his eyes and shot an arrow at a maiden standing on the parapets of the castle, saying:<\/p>\n

\n

I am a god most powerful<\/p>\n

in the air and on the land<\/p>\n

and the wide, wind-driven sea,<\/p>\n

and in the fiery pit<\/p>\n

and the fearful hell it contains.<\/p>\n

Fear\u2019s something I\u2019ve never known;<\/p>\n

whatever I wish I can do,<\/p>\n

though it may well be impossible;<\/p>\n

in the realm of the possible I rule,<\/p>\n

and give and take away at will.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

He finished the strophe, shot an arrow over the castle, and returned to his place. Then Interest came forward and executed another two figures; the timbrels fell silent, and he said:<\/p>\n

\n

I am mightier than Love,<\/p>\n

though it is Love who guides me;<\/p>\n

I am of the finest stock,<\/p>\n

the best known and the noblest,<\/p>\n

that heaven breeds on earth.<\/p>\n

I am Interest, and for my sake<\/p>\n

few men do the deeds they should,<\/p>\n

though deeds sans<\/span> me are miracles;<\/p>\n

I swear my devotion to you<\/p>\n

forever, world without end, amen.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Interest stepped back, Poetry came forward, and after performing her figures as the others had, she turned her eyes toward the maiden of the castle and said:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

In conceits most sweet and high,<\/p>\n

noble, solemn, and discreet,<\/p>\n

gentle Poetry, my lady,<\/p>\n

sends her soul to you in lines<\/p>\n

found in a thousand new sonnets.<\/p>\n

If my pleas and constant prayers<\/p>\n

do not weary you, your fortune,<\/p>\n

envied by so many damsels,<\/p>\n

will be raised on high by me,<\/p>\n

to the Circle of the Moon.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Poetry moved away, and from the side where Interest stood, Liberality stepped forward, performed her figures, and said:<\/p>\n

\n

Liberality is the name<\/p>\n

of giving that shuns th\u2019 extremes<\/p>\n

of either prodigality<\/p>\n

or its opposite, th\u2019 unwilling<\/p>\n

hand of a miserly soul.<\/p>\n

But, in order to praise you,<\/p>\n

today I shall be prodigal,<\/p>\n

and though a vice, it is honored<\/p>\n

from a heart that is enamored,<\/p>\n

and in giving shows its love.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

In this fashion all the dancers in the two bands came forward and then withdrew, and each one performed her figures and said her verses, some of them elegant and some ridiculous, but Don Quixote could retain in his memory\u2014which was very good\u2014only those that have been cited; then all the dancers mingled, forming pairs and then separating with gentle grace and ease, and when Love passed in front of the castle, he shot his arrows into the air, but Interest broke gilded money boxes against it.<\/p>\n

Finally, after having danced for some time, Interest took out a large bag made of the skin of a big Roman cat,389<\/a><\/span><\/sup> which seemed to be full of coins, and threw it at the castle, and at the impact the boards fell apart and collapsed, leaving the maiden exposed and without any defenses. Interest approached with the dancers in his group, put a long gold chain <\/a>around her neck, and pretended to seize and subdue her and make her his prisoner; when Love and his companions saw this, they moved to free her, and all these displays were made to the sound of the timbrels as they danced and twirled in harmony. The savages imposed peace when they quickly set up and put together again the boards of the castle, and the maiden went back inside, concluding the dance that had been watched with great pleasure by the spectators.<\/p>\n

Don Quixote asked one of the nymphs who had composed and directed it. She responded that it was a cleric, a beneficiary from the village who had a great talent for these kinds of inventions.<\/p>\n

\u201cI would wager,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cthat this beneficiary or bachelor must be more of a friend to Camacho than to Basilio, and that he is more inclined to writing satires than to saying his prayers at vespers. How well he has incorporated into the dance Basilio\u2019s skills and Camacho\u2019s wealth!\u201d<\/p>\n

Sancho Panza, who heard everything, said:<\/p>\n

\u201cMy cock\u2019s king;390<\/a><\/span><\/sup> I\u2019m on Camacho\u2019s side.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn short,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cit seems clear, Sancho, that you are a peasant, the kind who shouts, \u2018Long live whoever wins!\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know what kind I am,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cbut I do know that I\u2019d never get such fine skimmings from Basilio\u2019s pots as I\u2019ve gotten from Camacho\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n

And he showed him the pot full of geese and chickens, and seizing one of them, he began to eat with great verve and enthusiasm, saying:<\/p>\n

\u201cTo hell with Basilio\u2019s talents! You\u2019re worth what you have, and what you have is what you\u2019re worth. There are only two lineages in the world, as my grandmother used to say, and that\u2019s the haves and the have-nots, though she was on the side of having; nowadays, Se\u00f1or Don Quixote, wealth is better than wisdom: an ass covered in gold seems better than a saddled horse. And so I say again that I\u2019m on the side of Camacho, whose pots are overflowing with geese and chickens, hares and rabbits, while Basilio\u2019s, if they ever show up, and even if they don\u2019t, won\u2019t hold anything but watered wine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you finished your harangue, Sancho?\u201d said Don Quixote.<\/p>\n

\u201cI must have,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cbecause I see that your grace is bothered by it; if you hadn\u2019t cut this one short, I could have gone on for another three days.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMay it please God, Sancho,\u201d replied Don Quixote, \u201cthat I see you mute before I die.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAt the rate we\u2019re going,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cbefore your grace dies I\u2019ll be chewing on mud, and then maybe I\u2019ll be so mute I won\u2019t say a word till the end of the world or, at least, until Judgment Day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Sancho, even if that should happen,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cyour silence will never match all that you have said, are saying, and will say in your lifetime! Furthermore, it seems likely in the natural course of events that the day of my death will arrive before yours, and so I think I shall never see you mute, not even when you are drinking, or sleeping, which is what I earnestly desire.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBy my faith, Se\u00f1or,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cyou mustn\u2019t trust in the fleshless woman, I mean Death, who devours lamb as well as mutton; I\u2019ve heard our priest say that she tramples the high towers of kings as well as the humble huts of the poor. This lady is more powerful than finicky; nothing disgusts her, she eats everything, and she does everything, and she crams her pack with all kinds and ages and ranks of people. She\u2019s not a reaper who takes naps; she reaps constantly and cuts the dry grass along with the green, and she doesn\u2019t seem to chew her food but wolfs it down and swallows everything that\u2019s put in front of her, because she\u2019s as hungry as a dog and is never satisfied; and though she has no belly, it\u2019s clear that she has dropsy and is always thirsty and ready to drink down the lives of everyone living, like somebody drinking a pitcher of cold water.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEnough, Sancho,\u201d said Don Quixote at this point. \u201cStop now before you fall, for the truth is that what you have said about death, in your rustic terms, is what a good preacher might say. I tell you, Sancho, with your natural wit and intelligence, you could mount a pulpit and go around preaching some very nice things.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBeing a good preacher means living a good life,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cand I don\u2019t know any other theologies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do not need them,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cbut I cannot understand or comprehend how, since the beginning of wisdom is the fear of God, you, who fear a lizard more than you fear Him, can know so much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or, your grace should pass judgment on your chivalries,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cand not start judging other people\u2019s fear or bravery, because I fear God as much as the next man. And your grace should let <\/a>me eat up these skimmings; all the rest is idle words, and we\u2019ll have to account for those in the next world.\u201d<\/p>\n

And saying this, he resumed the assault on his pot with so much gusto that he awoke the appetite of Don Quixote, who no doubt would have helped him if he had not been hindered by what must be recounted below.<\/p>\n

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