Don Quixote_ Translation by Edith Grossman (HarperCollins) - Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra [268]
Sancho’s cries and sobs revived Don Quixote, and the first words he said were:
“He who liveth absent from thee, O dulcet Dulcinea, is subject to greater miseries than these. Help me, friend Sancho, to climb into the enchanted cart; I canst no longer sit in Rocinante’s saddle, for my shoulder is shattered.”
“I’ll do that gladly, Señor,” responded Sancho, “and let’s return to my village in the company of these gentlefolk, who wish you well, and there we’ll arrange to make another sally that will bring us more profit and greater fame.”
“Well said, Sancho,” responded Don Quixote, “and it will be an act of great prudence to allow the present evil influence of the stars to pass.”
The canon and the priest and the barber told Don Quixote that what he intended to do was very wise, and so, having been greatly amused by the simplicities of Sancho Panza, they placed Don Quixote in the cart, just as he had been before. The procession formed once again and continued on its way; the goatherd took his leave of everyone; the officers did not wish to go any farther, and the priest paid them what he owed them. The canon asked the priest to inform him of what happened to Don Quixote, if he was cured of his madness or continued to suffer from it, and with this he excused himself and continued his journey. In short, they parted and went their separate ways, and those remaining were the priest, the barber, Don Quixote, Panza, and the good Rocinante, who endured everything he saw with as much patience as his master.
The driver yoked his oxen and settled Don Quixote on a bundle of hay, and with his customary deliberateness followed the route indicated by the priest, and in six days they reached Don Quixote’s village, which they entered in the middle of the day, which happened to be Sunday, when everyone was in the square, and the cart carrying Don Quixote drove right through the middle of it. Everyone hurried to see what was in the cart, and when they recognized their neighbor they were astounded, and a boy ran to give the news to the housekeeper and niece that their uncle and master had arrived, skinny and yellow and lying on a pile of hay in an oxcart. It was a pitiful thing to hear the cries of the two good women, to see how they slapped themselves and cursed once again the accursed books of chivalry, all of which started all over again when they saw Don Quixote come through the door.
At the news of Don Quixote’s arrival, Sancho Panza’s wife came running, for she had already learned that her husband had gone away with him to serve as his squire, and as soon as she saw Sancho, the first thing she asked was if the donkey was all right. Sancho responded that he was better than his master.
“Thanks be to God,” she replied, “for all His mercies; but now tell me, my friend, what have you earned after all your squiring? Have you brought me a new overskirt? Did you bring nice shoes for your children?”
“I didn’t bring anything like that, dear wife,” said Sancho, “though I do have other things that are more valuable and worthwhile.”
“That makes me very happy,” she responded. “Show me those things that are more valuable and worthwhile, my friend; I want to see them and gladden this heart of mine, which has been so sad and unhappy during all the centuries of your absence.”
“I’ll show them to you at home,” said Panza, “and for now be happy, because if it’s God’s will that we go out again in search of adventures, in no time you’ll see me made a count, or the governor of an ínsula, and not any of the ones around here, but the best that can be found.”
“May it please God, my husband, because we surely need it. But tell me, what’s all this about ínsulas? I don’t understand.”
“Honey’s not for the donkey’s mouth,” responded Sancho. “In time you will, dear wife, and even be amazed to hear