**Wherein it is shown who Master Pedro and his ape were, together with th_ishap Don Quixote had in the braying adventure, which he did not conclude a_e would have liked or as he had expected**
Cide Hamete, the chronicler of this great history, begins this chapter wit_hese words, "I swear as a Catholic Christian;" with regard to which hi_ranslator says that Cide Hamete's swearing as a Catholic Christian, h_eing—as no doubt he was—a Moor, only meant that, just as a Catholic Christia_aking an oath swears, or ought to swear, what is true, and tell the truth i_hat he avers, so he was telling the truth, as much as if he swore as _atholic Christian, in all he chose to write about Quixote, especially i_eclaring who Master Pedro was and what was the divining ape that astonishe_ll the villages with his divinations. He says, then, that he who has read th_irst Part of this history will remember well enough the Gines de Pasamont_hom, with other galley slaves, Don Quixote set free in the Sierra Morena: _indness for which he afterwards got poor thanks and worse payment from tha_vil-minded, ill-conditioned set. This Gines de Pasamonte—Don Ginesillo d_arapilla, Don Quixote called him—it was that stole Dapple from Sancho Panza;
which, because by the fault of the printers neither the how nor the when wa_tated in the First Part, has been a puzzle to a good many people, wh_ttribute to the bad memory of the author what was the error of the press. I_act, however, Gines stole him while Sancho Panza was asleep on his back,
adopting the plan and device that Brunello had recourse to when he stol_acripante's horse from between his legs at the siege of Albracca; and, as ha_een told, Sancho afterwards recovered him. This Gines, then, afraid of bein_aught by the officers of justice, who were looking for him to punish him fo_is numberless rascalities and offences (which were so many and so great tha_e himself wrote a big book giving an account of them), resolved to shift hi_uarters into the kingdom of Aragon, and cover up his left eye, and take u_he trade of a puppet-showman; for this, as well as juggling, he knew how t_ractise to perfection. From some released Christians returning from Barbary,
it so happened, he bought the ape, which he taught to mount upon his shoulde_n his making a certain sign, and to whisper, or seem to do so, in his ear.
Thus prepared, before entering any village whither he was bound with his sho_nd his ape, he used to inform himself at the nearest village, or from th_ost likely person he could find, as to what particular things had happene_here, and to whom; and bearing them well in mind, the first thing he did wa_o exhibit his show, sometimes one story, sometimes another, but all lively,
amusing, and familiar. As soon as the exhibition was over he brought forwar_he accomplishments of his ape, assuring the public that he divined all th_ast and the present, but as to the future he had no skill. For each questio_nswered he asked two reals, and for some he made a reduction, just as h_appened to feel the pulse of the questioners; and when now and then he cam_o houses where things that he knew of had happened to the people livin_here, even if they did not ask him a question, not caring to pay for it, h_ould make the sign to the ape and then declare that it had said so and so,
which fitted the case exactly. In this way he acquired a prodigious name an_ll ran after him; on other occasions, being very crafty, he would answer i_uch a way that the answers suited the questions; and as no one cross-
questioned him or pressed him to tell how his ape divined, he made fools o_hem all and filled his pouch. The instant he entered the inn he knew Do_uixote and Sancho, and with that knowledge it was easy for him to astonis_hem and all who were there; but it would have cost him dear had Don Quixot_rought down his hand a little lower when he cut off King Marsilio's head an_estroyed all his horsemen, as related in the preceeding chapter.
So much for Master Pedro and his ape; and now to return to Don Quixote of L_ancha. After he had left the inn he determined to visit, first of all, th_anks of the Ebro and that neighbourhood, before entering the city o_aragossa, for the ample time there was still to spare before the jousts lef_im enough for all. With this object in view he followed the road an_ravelled along it for two days, without meeting any adventure wort_ommitting to writing until on the third day, as he was ascending a hill, h_eard a great noise of drums, trumpets, and musket-shots. At first he imagine_ome regiment of soldiers was passing that way, and to see them he spurre_ocinante and mounted the hill. On reaching the top he saw at the foot of i_ver two hundred men, as it seemed to him, armed with weapons of variou_orts, lances, crossbows, partisans, halberds, and pikes, and a few musket_nd a great many bucklers. He descended the slope and approached the band nea_nough to see distinctly the flags, make out the colours and distinguish th_evices they bore, especially one on a standard or ensign of white satin, o_hich there was painted in a very life-like style an ass like a little sard,
with its head up, its mouth open and its tongue out, as if it were in the ac_nd attitude of braying; and round it were inscribed in large characters thes_wo lines—
They did not bray in vain,
Our alcaldes twain.
From this device Don Quixote concluded that these people must be from th_raying town, and he said so to Sancho, explaining to him what was written o_he standard. At the same time he observed that the man who had told the_bout the matter was wrong in saying that the two who brayed were regidors,
for according to the lines of the standard they were alcaldes. To which Sanch_eplied, "Senor, there's nothing to stick at in that, for maybe the regidor_ho brayed then came to be alcaldes of their town afterwards, and so they ma_o by both titles; moreover, it has nothing to do with the truth of the stor_hether the brayers were alcaldes or regidors, provided at any rate they di_ray; for an alcalde is just as likely to bray as a regidor." They perceived,
in short, clearly that the town which had been twitted had turned out to d_attle with some other that had jeered it more than was fair or neighbourly.
Don Quixote proceeded to join them, not a little to Sancho's uneasiness, fo_e never relished mixing himself up in expeditions of that sort. The member_f the troop received him into the midst of them, taking him to be some on_ho was on their side. Don Quixote, putting up his visor, advanced with a_asy bearing and demeanour to the standard with the ass, and all the chief me_f the army gathered round him to look at him, staring at him with the usua_mazement that everybody felt on seeing him for the first time. Don Quixote,
seeing them examining him so attentively, and that none of them spoke to hi_r put any question to him, determined to take advantage of their silence; so,
breaking his own, he lifted up his voice and said, "Worthy sirs, I entreat yo_s earnestly as I can not to interrupt an argument I wish to address to you,
until you find it displeases or wearies you; and if that come to pass, on th_lightest hint you give me I will put a seal upon my lips and a gag upon m_ongue."
They all bade him say what he liked, for they would listen to him willingly.
With this permission Don Quixote went on to say, "I, sirs, am a knight-erran_hose calling is that of arms, and whose profession is to protect those wh_equire protection, and give help to such as stand in need of it. Some day_go I became acquainted with your misfortune and the cause which impels you t_ake up arms again and again to revenge yourselves upon your enemies; an_aving many times thought over your business in my mind, I find that,
according to the laws of combat, you are mistaken in holding yourselve_nsulted; for a private individual cannot insult an entire community; unles_t be by defying it collectively as a traitor, because he cannot tell who i_articular is guilty of the treason for which he defies it. Of this we have a_xample in Don Diego Ordonez de Lara, who defied the whole town of Zamora,
because he did not know that Vellido Dolfos alone had committed the treacher_f slaying his king; and therefore he defied them all, and the vengeance an_he reply concerned all; though, to be sure, Senor Don Diego went rather to_ar, indeed very much beyond the limits of a defiance; for he had no occasio_o defy the dead, or the waters, or the fishes, or those yet unborn, and al_he rest of it as set forth; but let that pass, for when anger breaks ou_here's no father, governor, or bridle to check the tongue. The case being,
then, that no one person can insult a kingdom, province, city, state, o_ntire community, it is clear there is no reason for going out to avenge th_efiance of such an insult, inasmuch as it is not one. A fine thing it woul_e if the people of the clock town were to be at loggerheads every moment wit_veryone who called them by that name,—or the Cazoleros, Berengeneros,
Ballenatos, Jaboneros, or the bearers of all the other names and titles tha_re always in the mouth of the boys and common people! It would be a nic_usiness indeed if all these illustrious cities were to take huff and reveng_hemselves and go about perpetually making trombones of their swords in ever_etty quarrel! No, no; God forbid! There are four things for which sensibl_en and well-ordered States ought to take up arms, draw their swords, and ris_heir persons, lives, and properties. The first is to defend the Catholi_aith; the second, to defend one's life, which is in accordance with natura_nd divine law; the third, in defence of one's honour, family, and property;
the fourth, in the service of one's king in a just war; and if to these w_hoose to add a fifth (which may be included in the second), in defence o_ne's country. To these five, as it were capital causes, there may be adde_ome others that may be just and reasonable, and make it a duty to take u_rms; but to take them up for trifles and things to laugh at and he amused b_ather than offended, looks as though he who did so was altogether wanting i_ommon sense. Moreover, to take an unjust revenge (and there cannot be an_ust one) is directly opposed to the sacred law that we acknowledge, wherei_e are commanded to do good to our enemies and to love them that hate us; _ommand which, though it seems somewhat difficult to obey, is only so to thos_ho have in them less of God than of the world, and more of the flesh than o_he spirit; for Jesus Christ, God and true man, who never lied, and could no_nd cannot lie, said, as our law-giver, that his yoke was easy and his burde_ight; he would not, therefore, have laid any command upon us that it wa_mpossible to obey. Thus, sirs, you are bound to keep quiet by human an_ivine law."
"The devil take me," said Sancho to himself at this, "but this master of min_s a tologian; or, if not, faith, he's as like one as one egg is lik_nother."
Don Quixote stopped to take breath, and, observing that silence was stil_reserved, had a mind to continue his discourse, and would have done so ha_ot Sancho interposed with his smartness; for he, seeing his master pause,
took the lead, saying, "My lord Don Quixote of La Mancha, who once was calle_he Knight of the Rueful Countenance, but now is called the Knight of th_ions, is a gentleman of great discretion who knows Latin and his mothe_ongue like a bachelor, and in everything that he deals with or advise_roceeds like a good soldier, and has all the laws and ordinances of what the_all combat at his fingers' ends; so you have nothing to do but to le_ourselves be guided by what he says, and on my head be it if it is wrong.
Besides which, you have been told that it is folly to take offence at merel_earing a bray. I remember when I was a boy I brayed as often as I had _ancy, without anyone hindering me, and so elegantly and naturally that when _rayed all the asses in the town would bray; but I was none the less for tha_he son of my parents who were greatly respected; and though I was envie_ecause of the gift by more than one of the high and mighty ones of the town,
I did not care two farthings for it; and that you may see I am telling th_ruth, wait a bit and listen, for this art, like swimming, once learnt i_ever forgotten;" and then, taking hold of his nose, he began to bray s_igorously that all the valleys around rang again.
One of those, however, that stood near him, fancying he was mocking them,
lifted up a long staff he had in his hand and smote him such a blow with i_hat Sancho dropped helpless to the ground. Don Quixote, seeing him so roughl_andled, attacked the man who had struck him lance in hand, but so many thrus_hemselves between them that he could not avenge him. Far from it, finding _hower of stones rained upon him, and crossbows and muskets unnumbere_evelled at him, he wheeled Rocinante round and, as fast as his best gallo_ould take him, fled from the midst of them, commending himself to God wit_ll his heart to deliver him out of this peril, in dread every step of som_all coming in at his back and coming out at his breast, and every minut_rawing his breath to see whether it had gone from him. The members of th_and, however, were satisfied with seeing him take to flight, and did not fir_n him. They put up Sancho, scarcely restored to his senses, on his ass, an_et him go after his master; not that he was sufficiently in his wits to guid_he beast, but Dapple followed the footsteps of Rocinante, from whom he coul_ot remain a moment separated. Don Quixote having got some way off looke_ack, and seeing Sancho coming, waited for him, as he perceived that no on_ollowed him. The men of the troop stood their ground till night, and as th_nemy did not come out to battle, they returned to their town exulting; an_ad they been aware of the ancient custom of the Greeks, they would hav_rected a trophy on the spot.