don quixote(堂·吉珂德)-第1章

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　　CHAPTER　I
　　WHICH　TREATS　OF　THE　CHARACTER　AND　PURSUITS　OF　THE　FAMOUS　GENTLEMAN
DON　QUIXOTE　OF　LA　MANCHA

　　IN　a　village　of　La　Mancha；　the　name　of　which　I　have　no　desire　to
call　to　mind；　there　lived　not　long　since　one　of　those　gentlemen　that
keep　a　lance　in　the　lance…rack；　an　old　buckler；　a　lean　hack；　and　a
greyhound　for　coursing。　An　olla　of　rather　more　beef　than　mutton；　a
salad　on　most　nights；　scraps　on　Saturdays；　lentils　on　Fridays；　and　a
pigeon　or　so　extra　on　Sundays；　made　away　with　three…quarters　of　his
income。　The　rest　of　it　went　in　a　doublet　of　fine　cloth　and　velvet
breeches　and　shoes　to　match　for　holidays；　while　on　week…days　he　made　a
brave　figure　in　his　best　homespun。　He　had　in　his　house　a　housekeeper
past　forty；　a　niece　under　twenty；　and　a　lad　for　the　field　and
market…place；　who　used　to　saddle　the　hack　as　well　as　handle　the
bill…hook。　The　age　of　this　gentleman　of　ours　was　bordering　on　fifty；
he　was　of　a　hardy　habit；　spare；　gaunt…featured；　a　very　early　riser　and
a　great　sportsman。　They　will　have　it　his　surname　was　Quixada　or
Quesada　（for　here　there　is　some　difference　of　opinion　among　the
authors　who　write　on　the　subject）；　although　from　reasonable
conjectures　it　seems　plain　that　he　was　called　Quexana。　This；
however；　is　of　but　little　importance　to　our　tale；　it　will　be　enough
not　to　stray　a　hair's　breadth　from　the　truth　in　the　telling　of　it。
　　You　must　know；　then；　that　the　above…named　gentleman　whenever　he
was　at　leisure　（which　was　mostly　all　the　year　round）　gave　himself　up
to　reading　books　of　chivalry　with　such　ardour　and　avidity　that　he
almost　entirely　neglected　the　pursuit　of　his　field…sports；　and　even
the　management　of　his　property；　and　to　such　a　pitch　did　his
eagerness　and　infatuation　go　that　he　sold　many　an　acre　of
tillageland　to　buy　books　of　chivalry　to　read；　and　brought　home　as　many
of　them　as　he　could　get。　But　of　all　there　were　none　he　liked　so　well
as　those　of　the　famous　Feliciano　de　Silva's　composition；　for　their
lucidity　of　style　and　complicated　conceits　were　as　pearls　in　his
sight；　particularly　when　in　his　reading　he　came　upon　courtships　and
cartels；　where　he　often　found　passages　like　〃the　reason　of　the
unreason　with　which　my　reason　is　afflicted　so　weakens　my　reason　that
with　reason　I　murmur　at　your　beauty；〃　or　again；　〃the　high　heavens；
that　of　your　divinity　divinely　fortify　you　with　the　stars；　render
you　deserving　of　the　desert　your　greatness　deserves。〃　Over　conceits　of
this　sort　the　poor　gentleman　lost　his　wits；　and　used　to　lie　awake
striving　to　understand　them　and　worm　the　meaning　out　of　them；　what
Aristotle　himself　could　not　have　made　out　or　extracted　had　he　come
to　life　again　for　that　special　purpose。　He　was　not　at　all　easy　about
the　wounds　which　Don　Belianis　gave　and　took；　because　it　seemed　to
him　that；　great　as　were　the　surgeons　who　had　cured　him；　he　must　have
had　his　face　and　body　covered　all　over　with　seams　and　scars。　He
commended；　however；　the　author's　way　of　ending　his　book　with　the
promise　of　that　interminable　adventure；　and　many　a　time　was　he　tempted
to　take　up　his　pen　and　finish　it　properly　as　is　there　proposed；
which　no　doubt　he　would　have　done；　and　made　a　successful　piece　of　work
of　it　too；　had　not　greater　and　more　absorbing　thoughts　prevented　him。
　　Many　an　argument　did　he　have　with　the　curate　of　his　village　（a
learned　man；　and　a　graduate　of　Siguenza）　as　to　which　had　been　the
better　knight；　Palmerin　of　England　or　Amadis　of　Gaul。　Master　Nicholas；
the　village　barber；　however；　used　to　say　that　neither　of　them　came
up　to　the　Knight　of　Phoebus；　and　that　if　there　was　any　that　could
compare　with　him　it　was　Don　Galaor；　the　brother　of　Amadis　of　Gaul；
because　he　had　a　spirit　that　was　equal　to　every　occasion；　and　was　no
finikin　knight；　nor　lachrymose　like　his　brother；　while　in　the　matter
of　valour　he　was　not　a　whit　behind　him。　In　short；　he　became　so
absorbed　in　his　books　that　he　spent　his　nights　from　sunset　to　sunrise；
and　his　days　from　dawn　to　dark；　poring　over　them；　and　what　with　little
sleep　and　much　reading　his　brains　got　so　dry　that　he　lost　his　wits。
His　fancy　grew　full　of　what　he　used　to　read　about　in　his　books；
enchantments；　quarrels；　battles；　challenges；　wounds；　wooings；　loves；
agonies；　and　all　sorts　of　impossible　nonsense；　and　it　so　possessed　his
mind　that　the　whole　fabric　of　invention　and　fancy　he　read　of　was　true；
that　to　him　no　history　in　the　world　had　more　reality　in　it。　He　used　to
say　the　Cid　Ruy　Diaz　was　a　very　good　knight；　but　that　he　was　not　to　be
compared　with　the　Knight　of　the　Burning　Sword　who　with　one　back…stroke
cut　in　half　two　fierce　and　monstrous　giants。　He　thought　more　of
Bernardo　del　Carpio　because　at　Roncesvalles　he　slew　Roland　in　spite　of
enchantments；　availing　himself　of　the　artifice　of　Hercules　when　he
strangled　Antaeus　the　son　of　Terra　in　his　arms。　He　approved　highly
of　the　giant　Morgante；　because；　although　of　the　giant　breed　which　is
always　arrogant　and　ill…conditioned；　he　alone　was　affable　and
well…bred。　But　above　all　he　admired　Reinaldos　of　Montalban；　especially
when　he　saw　him　sallying　forth　from　his　castle　and　robbing　everyone　he
met；　and　when　beyond　the　seas　he　stole　that　image　of　Mahomet　which；　as
his　history　says；　was　entirely　of　gold。　To　have　a　bout　of　kicking　at
that　traitor　of　a　Ganelon　he　would　have　given　his　housekeeper；　and　his
niece　into　the　bargain。
　　In　short；　his　wits　being　quite　gone；　he　hit　upon　the　strangest
notion　that　ever　madman　in　this　world　hit　upon；　and　that　was　that　he
fancied　it　was　right　and　requisite；　as　well　for　the　support　of　his　own
honour　as　for　the　service　of　his　country；　that　he　should　make　a
knight…errant　of　himself；　roaming　the　world　over　in　full　armour　and　on
horseback　in　quest　of　adventures；　and　putting　in　practice　himself
all　that　he　had　read　of　as　being　the　usual　practices　of
knights…errant；　righting　every　kind　of　wrong；　and　exposing　himself
to　peril　and　danger　from　which；　in　the　issue；　he　was　to　reap　eternal
renown　and　fame。　Already　the　poor　man　saw　himself　crowned　by　the　might
of　his　arm　Emperor　of　Trebizond　at　least；　and　so；　led　away　by　the
intense　enjoyment　he　found　in　these　pleasant　fancies；　he　set　himself
forthwith　to　put　his　scheme　into　execution。
　　The　first　thing　he　did　was　to　clean　up　some　armour　that　had　belonged
to　his　great…grandfather；　and　had　been　for　ages　lying　forgotten　in　a
corner　eaten　with　rust　and　covered　with　mildew。　He　scoured　and
polished　it　as　best　he　could；　but　he　perceived　one　great　defect　in　it；
that　it　had　no　closed　helmet；　nothing　but　a　simple　morion。　This
deficiency；　however；　his　ingenuity　supplied；　for　he　contrived　a　kind
of　half…helmet　of　pasteboard　which；　fitted　on　to　the　morion；　looked
like　a　whole　one。　It　is　true　that；　in　order　to　see　if　it　was　strong
and　fit　to　stand　a　cut；　he　drew　his　sword　and　gave　it　a　couple　of
slashes；　the　first　of　which　undid　in　an　instant　what　had　taken　him　a
week　to　do。　The　ease　with　which　he　had　knocked　it　to　pieces
disconcerted　him　somewhat；　and　to　guard　against　that　danger　he　set
to　work　again；　fixing　bars　of　iron　on　the　inside　until　he　was
satisfied　with　its　strength；　and　then；　not　caring　to　try　any　more
experiments　with　it；　he　passed　it　and　adopted　it　as　a　helmet　of　the
most　perfect　construction。
　　He　next　proceeded　to　inspect　his　hack；　which；　with　more　quartos　than
a　real　and　more　blemishes　than　the　steed　of　Gonela；　that　〃tantum
pellis　et　ossa　fuit；〃　surpassed　in　his　eyes　the　Bucephalus　of
Alexander　or　the　Babieca　of　the　Cid。　Four　days　were　spent　in
thinking　what　name　to　give　him；　because　（as　he　said　to　himself）　it　was
not　right　that　a　horse　belonging　to　a　knight　so　famous；　and　one　with
such　merits　of　his　own；　should　be　without　some　distinctive　name；　and
he　strove　to　adapt　it　so　as　to　indicate　what　he　had　been　before
belonging　to　a　knight…errant；　and　what　he　then　was；　for　it　was　only
reasonable　that；　his　master　taking　a　new　character；　he　should　take　a
new　name；　and　that　it　should　be　a　distinguished　and　full…sounding　one；
befitting　the　new　order　and　calling　he　was　about　to　follow。　And　so；
after　having　composed；　struck　out；　rejected；　added　to；　unmade；　and
remade　a　multitude　of　names　out　of　his　memory　and　fancy；　he　decided
upon　calling　him　Rocinante；