**Which treats of the notable altercation which Sancho Panza had with Do_uixote's niece, and housekeeper, together with other droll matters**
The history relates that the outcry Don Quixote, the curate, and the barbe_eard came from the niece and the housekeeper exclaiming to Sancho, who wa_triving to force his way in to see Don Quixote while they held the doo_gainst him, "What does the vagabond want in this house? Be off to your own,
brother, for it is you, and no one else, that delude my master, and lead hi_stray, and take him tramping about the country."
To which Sancho replied, "Devil's own housekeeper! it is I who am deluded, an_ed astray, and taken tramping about the country, and not thy master! He ha_arried me all over the world, and you are mightily mistaken. He enticed m_way from home by a trick, promising me an island, which I am still waitin_or."
"May evil islands choke thee, thou detestable Sancho," said the niece; "Wha_re islands? Is it something to eat, glutton and gormandiser that thou art?"
"It is not something to eat," replied Sancho, "but something to govern an_ule, and better than four cities or four judgeships at court."
"For all that," said the housekeeper, "you don't enter here, you bag o_ischief and sack of knavery; go govern your house and dig your seed-patch,
and give over looking for islands or shylands."
The curate and the barber listened with great amusement to the words of th_hree; but Don Quixote, uneasy lest Sancho should blab and blurt out a whol_eap of mischievous stupidities, and touch upon points that might not b_ltogether to his credit, called to him and made the other two hold thei_ongues and let him come in. Sancho entered, and the curate and the barbe_ook their leave of Don Quixote, of whose recovery they despaired when the_aw how wedded he was to his crazy ideas, and how saturated with the nonsens_f his unlucky chivalry; and said the curate to the barber, "You will see,
gossip, that when we are least thinking of it, our gentleman will be off onc_ore for another flight."
"I have no doubt of it," returned the barber; "but I do not wonder so much a_he madness of the knight as at the simplicity of the squire, who has such _irm belief in all that about the island, that I suppose all the exposure_hat could be imagined would not get it out of his head."
"God help them," said the curate; "and let us be on the look-out to see wha_omes of all these absurdities of the knight and squire, for it seems as i_hey had both been cast in the same mould, and the madness of the maste_ithout the simplicity of the man would not be worth a farthing."
"That is true," said the barber, "and I should like very much to know what th_air are talking about at this moment."
"I promise you," said the curate, "the niece or the housekeeper will tell u_y-and-by, for they are not the ones to forget to listen."
Meanwhile Don Quixote shut himself up in his room with Sancho, and when the_ere alone he said to him, "It grieves me greatly, Sancho, that thou shoulds_ave said, and sayest, that I took thee out of thy cottage, when thou knowes_ did not remain in my house. We sallied forth together, we took the roa_ogether, we wandered abroad together; we have had the same fortune and th_ame luck; if they blanketed thee once, they belaboured me a hundred times,
and that is the only advantage I have of thee."
"That was only reasonable," replied Sancho, "for, by what your worship says,
misfortunes belong more properly to knights-errant than to their squires."
"Thou art mistaken, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "according to the maxim quand_aput dolet, etc."
"I don't understand any language but my own," said Sancho.
"I mean to say," said Don Quixote, "that when the head suffers all the member_uffer; and so, being thy lord and master, I am thy head, and thou a part o_e as thou art my servant; and therefore any evil that affects or shall affec_e should give thee pain, and what affects thee give pain to me."
"It should be so," said Sancho; "but when I was blanketed as a member, my hea_as on the other side of the wall, looking on while I was flying through th_ir, and did not feel any pain whatever; and if the members are obliged t_eel the suffering of the head, it should be obliged to feel thei_ufferings."
"Dost thou mean to say now, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that I did not fee_hen they were blanketing thee? If thou dost, thou must not say so or thin_o, for I felt more pain then in spirit than thou didst in body. But let u_ut that aside for the present, for we shall have opportunities enough fo_onsidering and settling the point; tell me, Sancho my friend, what do the_ay about me in the village here? What do the common people think of me? Wha_o the hidalgos? What do the caballeros? What do they say of my valour; of m_chievements; of my courtesy? How do they treat the task I have undertaken i_eviving and restoring to the world the now forgotten order of chivalry? I_hort, Sancho, I would have thee tell me all that has come to thine ears o_his subject; and thou art to tell me, without adding anything to the good o_aking away anything from the bad; for it is the duty of loyal vassals to tel_he truth to their lords just as it is and in its proper shape, not allowin_lattery to add to it or any idle deference to lessen it. And I would hav_hee know, Sancho, that if the naked truth, undisguised by flattery, came t_he ears of princes, times would be different, and other ages would b_eckoned iron ages more than ours, which I hold to be the golden of thes_atter days. Profit by this advice, Sancho, and report to me clearly an_aithfully the truth of what thou knowest touching what I have demanded o_hee."
"That I will do with all my heart, master," replied Sancho, "provided you_orship will not be vexed at what I say, as you wish me to say it out in al_ts nakedness, without putting any more clothes on it than it came to m_nowledge in."
"I will not be vexed at all," returned Don Quixote; "thou mayest speak freely,
Sancho, and without any beating about the bush."
"Well then," said he, "first of all, I have to tell you that the common peopl_onsider your worship a mighty great madman, and me no less a fool. Th_idalgos say that, not keeping within the bounds of your quality of gentleman,
you have assumed the 'Don,' and made a knight of yourself at a jump, with fou_ine-stocks and a couple of acres of land, and never a shirt to your back. Th_aballeros say they do not want to have hidalgos setting up in opposition t_hem, particularly squire hidalgos who polish their own shoes and darn thei_lack stockings with green silk."
"That," said Don Quixote, "does not apply to me, for I always go well dresse_nd never patched; ragged I may be, but ragged more from the wear and tear o_rms than of time."
"As to your worship's valour, courtesy, accomplishments, and task, there is _ariety of opinions. Some say, 'mad but droll;' others, 'valiant but unlucky;'
others, 'courteous but meddling,' and then they go into such a number o_hings that they don't leave a whole bone either in your worship or i_yself."
"Recollect, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that wherever virtue exists in a_minent degree it is persecuted. Few or none of the famous men that have live_scaped being calumniated by malice. Julius Caesar, the boldest, wisest, an_ravest of captains, was charged with being ambitious, and not particularl_leanly in his dress, or pure in his morals. Of Alexander, whose deeds won hi_he name of Great, they say that he was somewhat of a drunkard. Of Hercules,
him of the many labours, it is said that he was lewd and luxurious. Of Do_alaor, the brother of Amadis of Gaul, it was whispered that he was ove_uarrelsome, and of his brother that he was lachrymose. So that, O Sancho,
amongst all these calumnies against good men, mine may be let pass, since the_re no more than thou hast said."
"That's just where it is, body of my father!"
"Is there more, then?" asked Don Quixote.
"There's the tail to be skinned yet," said Sancho; "all so far is cakes an_ancy bread; but if your worship wants to know all about the calumnies the_ring against you, I will fetch you one this instant who can tell you th_hole of them without missing an atom; for last night the son of Bartholome_arrasco, who has been studying at Salamanca, came home after having been mad_ bachelor, and when I went to welcome him, he told me that your worship'_istory is already abroad in books, with the title of THE INGENIOUS GENTLEMA_ON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA; and he says they mention me in it by my own name o_ancho Panza, and the lady Dulcinea del Toboso too, and divers things tha_appened to us when we were alone; so that I crossed myself in my wonder ho_he historian who wrote them down could have known them."
"I promise thee, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "the author of our history will b_ome sage enchanter; for to such nothing that they choose to write about i_idden."
"What!" said Sancho, "a sage and an enchanter! Why, the bachelor Samso_arrasco (that is the name of him I spoke of) says the author of the histor_s called Cide Hamete Berengena."
"That is a Moorish name," said Don Quixote.
"May be so," replied Sancho; "for I have heard say that the Moors are mostl_reat lovers of berengenas."
"Thou must have mistaken the surname of this 'Cide'—which means in Arabic
'Lord'—Sancho," observed Don Quixote.
"Very likely," replied Sancho, "but if your worship wishes me to fetch th_achelor I will go for him in a twinkling."
"Thou wilt do me a great pleasure, my friend," said Don Quixote, "for wha_hou hast told me has amazed me, and I shall not eat a morsel that will agre_ith me until I have heard all about it."
"Then I am off for him," said Sancho; and leaving his master he went in ques_f the bachelor, with whom he returned in a short time, and, all thre_ogether, they had a very droll colloquy.