{"id":304,"date":"2019-12-01T16:45:26","date_gmt":"2019-12-01T16:45:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.publiconsulting.com\/wordpress\/donquixoteoflamancha\/chapter\/second-part-chapter-lxviii-2\/"},"modified":"2020-04-02T18:47:55","modified_gmt":"2020-04-02T18:47:55","slug":"second-part-chapter-lxviii","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/www.publiconsulting.com\/wordpress\/donquixoteoflamancha\/chapter\/second-part-chapter-lxviii\/","title":{"rendered":"Second Part. Chapter LXVIII"},"content":{"raw":"CHAPTER LXVIII<\/a>\r\n
\r\n

Regarding the porcine adventure that befell Don Quixote<\/span><\/h2>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

The night was somewhat dark although the moon was in the sky, but not in a place where she could be seen: perhaps the lady Diana had taken a trip to the Antipodes and left the mountains black and the valleys dark. Don Quixote fulfilled his obligations to nature by sleeping his first sleep,640<\/a><\/span><\/sup> but not giving way to his second, unlike Sancho, who never had a second sleep because his sleep lasted from nightfall until morning, prov<\/a>ing he had a strong constitution and few cares. Those of Don Quixote kept him awake until he woke Sancho and said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI am astounded, Sancho, at your carefree disposition: I imagine that you are made of marble or hard bronze, and that feeling or sentiment has no place in you. I keep vigil while you sleep, I weep while you sing, I swoon from fasting while you are lazy and sluggish from sheer satiety. It is in the nature of good servants to share the griefs of their masters and to feel what they are feeling, if only for appearance\u2019s sake. Look at the serenity of this night and the solitude of this place, inviting us to mingle some wakefulness with our sleep. Get up, for the love of God, and go a little distance from here, and with good courage and the boldness of gratitude give yourself three or four hundred of the lashes you owe for the disenchantment of Dulcinea; I plead with you to do this; I do not wish to come to blows with you, as we did last time, because I know you have a heavy hand. After you have flogged yourself, we shall spend what remains of the night singing, I of my absent love, and you of your valor, thereby beginning the pastoral life we shall practice in our village.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cI\u2019m not a monk who wakes up in the middle of the night to discipline myself, and I also don\u2019t think anybody can feel the extreme pain of a whipping and then start singing music. Your grace should let me sleep and stop pressing me about the lashes, or you\u2019ll force me to swear that I\u2019ll never even touch a thread of my tunic, let alone my flesh.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cO unfeeling soul! O pitiless squire! O undeserved bread and unthinking favors that I have given to you and intend to give to you in the future! Because of me you found yourself a governor, and because of me you have hopes of becoming a count or receiving another equivalent title, and the fulfillment of those hopes will take no longer than the time it takes for this year to pass, for Post tenebras spero lucem.<\/span> 641<\/a><\/span><\/sup><\/p>\r\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand that,\u201d replied Sancho. \u201cI only understand that while I\u2019m sleeping I have no fear, or hope, or trouble, or glory; blessed be whoever invented sleep, the mantle that covers all human thought, the food that satisfies hunger, the water that quenches thirst, the fire that warms the cold, the cold that cools down ardor, and, finally, the general coin with which all things are bought, the scale and balance that make <\/a>the shepherd equal to the king, and the simple man equal to the wise. There is only one defect in sleep, or so I\u2019ve heard, and it is that it resembles death, for there is very little difference between a man who is sleeping and a man who is dead.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI have never heard you speak, Sancho,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cas elegantly as now, which leads me to recognize the truth of the proverb that you like to quote: \u2018It is not where you were born but who your friends are now that counts.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cAh, confound it, Se\u00f1or!\u201d replied Sancho. \u201cNow I\u2019m not the one stringing proverbs together; they also drop two by two from your grace\u2019s mouth better than they do from mine, but between my proverbs and yours there must be this difference: your grace\u2019s come at the right time, while mine are out of place, but in fact they\u2019re all proverbs.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

They were engaged in this conversation when they heard a deafening sound and a harsh noise that extended through all the valleys. Don Quixote rose to his feet and put his hand to his sword, and Sancho crouched under the gray, pulling the armor down on one side and his donkey\u2019s packsaddle down on the other, trembling from fear as much as Don Quixote trembled from excitement. Gradually the noise grew louder as it came closer to the two fearful men: to one of them, at least; as for the other, his courage is already well-known.<\/p>\r\n

The fact is, at that early hour, some swineherds were taking more than six hundred pigs to a fair to sell them, and the animals made so much noise grunting and snorting that it deafened Don Quixote and Sancho, who could not imagine what the sound could be. The large grunting herd came running in great haste and confusion, and without showing respect for the authority of either Don Quixote or Sancho, they ran over them both, destroying Sancho\u2019s stockade and knocking down not only Don Quixote but Rocinante for good measure. The herd, the grunting, the speed with which the unclean animals ran past, threw into confusion and to the ground the packsaddle, the armor, the gray, Rocinante, Sancho, and Don Quixote.<\/p>\r\n

Sancho struggled to his feet and asked his master for his sword, saying that he wanted to kill half a dozen of those stout and discourteous pigs, for he had realized what they were. Don Quixote said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cLet them be, my friend, for this affront is chastisement for my sin, and heaven\u2019s just punishment is that a defeated knight errant will be devoured by jackals, and stung by wasps, and trampled by pigs.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIt must also be heaven\u2019s punishment,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cthat the <\/a>squires of defeated knights will be bitten by flies, eaten by lice, and attacked by hunger. If we squires were the children of the knights we serve, or close relatives of theirs, it wouldn\u2019t be surprising if the punishment for their faults reached us all the way to the fourth generation, but what do the Panzas have to do with the Quixotes? Well then, let\u2019s get comfortable again and sleep for the rest of the night, and God will send the dawn, and we\u2019ll be fine.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cYou sleep, Sancho,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cfor you were born to sleep, but I, born to stand watch, shall give free rein to my thoughts in the time that remains until daylight, and proclaim them in a madrigal I composed in my mind last night without your knowledge.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIt seems to me,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cthat thoughts that move you to write verses can\u2019t be very troublesome. Your grace should versify all you want, and I\u2019ll sleep all I can.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

And then, taking all the ground he wished, he curled up and fell fast asleep, undisturbed by guaranties or debts or any sorrow. Don Quixote, leaning against the trunk of a beech or a cork tree\u2014for Cide Hamete Benengeli does not specify what kind of tree it was\u2014sang to the sound of his own sighs:<\/p>\r\n\r\n

\r\n

O Love, when my thoughts turn<\/p>\r\n

to the suffering, dread and fierce, you bring,<\/p>\r\n

I swiftly run toward death,<\/p>\r\n

hoping to end forever the pain I feel;<\/p>\r\n

but when I reach that place,<\/p>\r\n

the port in this rough ocean of my torment,<\/p>\r\n

I feel such joy and gladness<\/p>\r\n

that life grows strong and does not let me pass.<\/p>\r\n

And so my living kills me,<\/p>\r\n

and death insists and gives me back my life.<\/p>\r\n

Mine is a novel state:<\/p>\r\n

I go on living, and constantly die.642<\/a><\/span><\/sup><\/p>\r\n\r\n<\/div>\r\n

Each of these verses was accompanied by many sighs and no few tears, befitting one whose heart was pierced by the pain of defeat and the absence of Dulcinea.<\/p>\r\n

Then day arrived, the sun shone its rays into Sancho\u2019s eyes, he awoke and stretched, shaking and extending his sluggish limbs; he looked at <\/a>the destruction wreaked on his provisions by the pigs, and cursed the herd, and even more than that. Finally the pair resumed their journey, and as the afternoon drew to a close, they saw some ten men on horseback and four or five men on foot coming toward them. Don Quixote\u2019s heart beat faster, and Sancho\u2019s was alarmed, because the men approaching carried lances and shields and seemed very warlike. Don Quixote turned to Sancho and said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIf I could wield my weapons, Sancho, and the promise I gave had not tied my arms, I would deem this group coming toward us as nothing more than mere child\u2019s play, but perhaps it is not what we fear.\u201d<\/p>\r\n\r\n

By then the men on horseback had reached them, and raising their lances, and not saying a word, they surrounded Don Quixote and held their weapons to his back and chest, threatening him with death. One of those on foot brought his finger to his mouth to indicate silence, seized Rocinante\u2019s bridle, and led him off the road; the rest of the men on foot, driving Sancho and the gray before them, and maintaining the most astonishing silence, followed in the footsteps of those who had taken Don Quixote, who tried to ask two or three times where they were taking him or what they wanted, but as soon as he began to move his lips they were closed by the points of the lances; the same thing happened to Sancho, because as soon as he gave signs of wanting to speak, one of the men on foot goaded him with a barb, and the donkey, too, as if he wanted to speak as well. Night fell, they hurried their pace, and the two prisoners felt a growing fear, especially when they heard their captors say from time to time:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cMove, troglodytes!\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSilence, barbarians!\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cAtone, anthropophagi!\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cNo complaints, Scythians,643<\/a><\/span><\/sup> don\u2019t even open your eyes, murdering Polyphemuses,644<\/a><\/span><\/sup> bloodthirsty lions!\u201d<\/p>\r\n

And many other similar names with which they tormented the ears of the wretched master and servant. As Sancho walked, he said to himself:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThey call us tortoise-tykes? Barbers and ant puffs? Pollies that can be called like pissants? I don\u2019t like these names at all; it\u2019s an ill wind blowing on this pile of grain; all this wickedness comes down on us at once, <\/a>like blows on a dog, and may it please God that what this misadventurous adventure threatens goes no further than blows!\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Don Quixote was dazed, unable to guess, no matter how he tried, the purpose of the insulting names, but certain, at least, that from those words nothing good could be hoped for and a good deal of harm could be feared. And then, almost an hour after nightfall, they arrived at what Don Quixote recognized as the castle of the duke, where they had been only a short while before.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cGod save me!\u201d he said as soon as he recognized the estate. \u201cWhat can this mean? In this house all is courtesy and good manners, but for those who have been defeated, good becomes bad, and bad becomes even worse.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

They entered the principal courtyard of the castle, and they saw that it was adorned and decorated in a manner that increased their bewilderment and doubled their fear, as will be seen in the next chapter.<\/p>\r\n","rendered":"

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

\n

Regarding the porcine adventure that befell Don Quixote<\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n

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

The night was somewhat dark although the moon was in the sky, but not in a place where she could be seen: perhaps the lady Diana had taken a trip to the Antipodes and left the mountains black and the valleys dark. Don Quixote fulfilled his obligations to nature by sleeping his first sleep,640<\/a><\/span><\/sup> but not giving way to his second, unlike Sancho, who never had a second sleep because his sleep lasted from nightfall until morning, prov<\/a>ing he had a strong constitution and few cares. Those of Don Quixote kept him awake until he woke Sancho and said:<\/p>\n

\u201cI am astounded, Sancho, at your carefree disposition: I imagine that you are made of marble or hard bronze, and that feeling or sentiment has no place in you. I keep vigil while you sleep, I weep while you sing, I swoon from fasting while you are lazy and sluggish from sheer satiety. It is in the nature of good servants to share the griefs of their masters and to feel what they are feeling, if only for appearance\u2019s sake. Look at the serenity of this night and the solitude of this place, inviting us to mingle some wakefulness with our sleep. Get up, for the love of God, and go a little distance from here, and with good courage and the boldness of gratitude give yourself three or four hundred of the lashes you owe for the disenchantment of Dulcinea; I plead with you to do this; I do not wish to come to blows with you, as we did last time, because I know you have a heavy hand. After you have flogged yourself, we shall spend what remains of the night singing, I of my absent love, and you of your valor, thereby beginning the pastoral life we shall practice in our village.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cI\u2019m not a monk who wakes up in the middle of the night to discipline myself, and I also don\u2019t think anybody can feel the extreme pain of a whipping and then start singing music. Your grace should let me sleep and stop pressing me about the lashes, or you\u2019ll force me to swear that I\u2019ll never even touch a thread of my tunic, let alone my flesh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cO unfeeling soul! O pitiless squire! O undeserved bread and unthinking favors that I have given to you and intend to give to you in the future! Because of me you found yourself a governor, and because of me you have hopes of becoming a count or receiving another equivalent title, and the fulfillment of those hopes will take no longer than the time it takes for this year to pass, for Post tenebras spero lucem.<\/span> 641<\/a><\/span><\/sup><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t understand that,\u201d replied Sancho. \u201cI only understand that while I\u2019m sleeping I have no fear, or hope, or trouble, or glory; blessed be whoever invented sleep, the mantle that covers all human thought, the food that satisfies hunger, the water that quenches thirst, the fire that warms the cold, the cold that cools down ardor, and, finally, the general coin with which all things are bought, the scale and balance that make <\/a>the shepherd equal to the king, and the simple man equal to the wise. There is only one defect in sleep, or so I\u2019ve heard, and it is that it resembles death, for there is very little difference between a man who is sleeping and a man who is dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have never heard you speak, Sancho,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cas elegantly as now, which leads me to recognize the truth of the proverb that you like to quote: \u2018It is not where you were born but who your friends are now that counts.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, confound it, Se\u00f1or!\u201d replied Sancho. \u201cNow I\u2019m not the one stringing proverbs together; they also drop two by two from your grace\u2019s mouth better than they do from mine, but between my proverbs and yours there must be this difference: your grace\u2019s come at the right time, while mine are out of place, but in fact they\u2019re all proverbs.\u201d<\/p>\n

They were engaged in this conversation when they heard a deafening sound and a harsh noise that extended through all the valleys. Don Quixote rose to his feet and put his hand to his sword, and Sancho crouched under the gray, pulling the armor down on one side and his donkey\u2019s packsaddle down on the other, trembling from fear as much as Don Quixote trembled from excitement. Gradually the noise grew louder as it came closer to the two fearful men: to one of them, at least; as for the other, his courage is already well-known.<\/p>\n

The fact is, at that early hour, some swineherds were taking more than six hundred pigs to a fair to sell them, and the animals made so much noise grunting and snorting that it deafened Don Quixote and Sancho, who could not imagine what the sound could be. The large grunting herd came running in great haste and confusion, and without showing respect for the authority of either Don Quixote or Sancho, they ran over them both, destroying Sancho\u2019s stockade and knocking down not only Don Quixote but Rocinante for good measure. The herd, the grunting, the speed with which the unclean animals ran past, threw into confusion and to the ground the packsaddle, the armor, the gray, Rocinante, Sancho, and Don Quixote.<\/p>\n

Sancho struggled to his feet and asked his master for his sword, saying that he wanted to kill half a dozen of those stout and discourteous pigs, for he had realized what they were. Don Quixote said:<\/p>\n

\u201cLet them be, my friend, for this affront is chastisement for my sin, and heaven\u2019s just punishment is that a defeated knight errant will be devoured by jackals, and stung by wasps, and trampled by pigs.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt must also be heaven\u2019s punishment,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cthat the <\/a>squires of defeated knights will be bitten by flies, eaten by lice, and attacked by hunger. If we squires were the children of the knights we serve, or close relatives of theirs, it wouldn\u2019t be surprising if the punishment for their faults reached us all the way to the fourth generation, but what do the Panzas have to do with the Quixotes? Well then, let\u2019s get comfortable again and sleep for the rest of the night, and God will send the dawn, and we\u2019ll be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sleep, Sancho,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cfor you were born to sleep, but I, born to stand watch, shall give free rein to my thoughts in the time that remains until daylight, and proclaim them in a madrigal I composed in my mind last night without your knowledge.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt seems to me,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cthat thoughts that move you to write verses can\u2019t be very troublesome. Your grace should versify all you want, and I\u2019ll sleep all I can.\u201d<\/p>\n

And then, taking all the ground he wished, he curled up and fell fast asleep, undisturbed by guaranties or debts or any sorrow. Don Quixote, leaning against the trunk of a beech or a cork tree\u2014for Cide Hamete Benengeli does not specify what kind of tree it was\u2014sang to the sound of his own sighs:<\/p>\n

\n

O Love, when my thoughts turn<\/p>\n

to the suffering, dread and fierce, you bring,<\/p>\n

I swiftly run toward death,<\/p>\n

hoping to end forever the pain I feel;<\/p>\n

but when I reach that place,<\/p>\n

the port in this rough ocean of my torment,<\/p>\n

I feel such joy and gladness<\/p>\n

that life grows strong and does not let me pass.<\/p>\n

And so my living kills me,<\/p>\n

and death insists and gives me back my life.<\/p>\n

Mine is a novel state:<\/p>\n

I go on living, and constantly die.642<\/a><\/span><\/sup><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Each of these verses was accompanied by many sighs and no few tears, befitting one whose heart was pierced by the pain of defeat and the absence of Dulcinea.<\/p>\n

Then day arrived, the sun shone its rays into Sancho\u2019s eyes, he awoke and stretched, shaking and extending his sluggish limbs; he looked at <\/a>the destruction wreaked on his provisions by the pigs, and cursed the herd, and even more than that. Finally the pair resumed their journey, and as the afternoon drew to a close, they saw some ten men on horseback and four or five men on foot coming toward them. Don Quixote\u2019s heart beat faster, and Sancho\u2019s was alarmed, because the men approaching carried lances and shields and seemed very warlike. Don Quixote turned to Sancho and said:<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I could wield my weapons, Sancho, and the promise I gave had not tied my arms, I would deem this group coming toward us as nothing more than mere child\u2019s play, but perhaps it is not what we fear.\u201d<\/p>\n

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

By then the men on horseback had reached them, and raising their lances, and not saying a word, they surrounded Don Quixote and held their weapons to his back and chest, threatening him with death. One of those on foot brought his finger to his mouth to indicate silence, seized Rocinante\u2019s bridle, and led him off the road; the rest of the men on foot, driving Sancho and the gray before them, and maintaining the most astonishing silence, followed in the footsteps of those who had taken Don Quixote, who tried to ask two or three times where they were taking him or what they wanted, but as soon as he began to move his lips they were closed by the points of the lances; the same thing happened to Sancho, because as soon as he gave signs of wanting to speak, one of the men on foot goaded him with a barb, and the donkey, too, as if he wanted to speak as well. Night fell, they hurried their pace, and the two prisoners felt a growing fear, especially when they heard their captors say from time to time:<\/p>\n

\u201cMove, troglodytes!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSilence, barbarians!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAtone, anthropophagi!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo complaints, Scythians,643<\/a><\/span><\/sup> don\u2019t even open your eyes, murdering Polyphemuses,644<\/a><\/span><\/sup> bloodthirsty lions!\u201d<\/p>\n

And many other similar names with which they tormented the ears of the wretched master and servant. As Sancho walked, he said to himself:<\/p>\n

\u201cThey call us tortoise-tykes? Barbers and ant puffs? Pollies that can be called like pissants? I don\u2019t like these names at all; it\u2019s an ill wind blowing on this pile of grain; all this wickedness comes down on us at once, <\/a>like blows on a dog, and may it please God that what this misadventurous adventure threatens goes no further than blows!\u201d<\/p>\n

Don Quixote was dazed, unable to guess, no matter how he tried, the purpose of the insulting names, but certain, at least, that from those words nothing good could be hoped for and a good deal of harm could be feared. And then, almost an hour after nightfall, they arrived at what Don Quixote recognized as the castle of the duke, where they had been only a short while before.<\/p>\n

\u201cGod save me!\u201d he said as soon as he recognized the estate. \u201cWhat can this mean? In this house all is courtesy and good manners, but for those who have been defeated, good becomes bad, and bad becomes even worse.\u201d<\/p>\n

They entered the principal courtyard of the castle, and they saw that it was adorned and decorated in a manner that increased their bewilderment and doubled their fear, as will be seen in the next chapter.<\/p>\n

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