Don Quixote_ Translation by Edith Grossman (HarperCollins) - Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra [282]
The bachelor, though his name was Sansón,1 was not particularly large, but he was immensely sly; his color was pale, but his intelligence was very bright; he was about twenty-four years old, with a round face, a snub nose, and a large mouth, all signs of a mischievous nature and a fondness for tricks and jokes, which he displayed when, upon seeing Don Quixote, he kneeled before him and said:
“Your magnificence, Señor Don Quixote of La Mancha, give me your hands, for by the habit of St. Peter that I wear,2 though I have taken only the first four orders, your grace is one of the most famous knights errant there ever was, or will be, anywhere on this round earth. Blessings on Cide Hamete Benengeli, who wrote the history of your great deeds, and double blessings on the inquisitive man who had it translated from Arabic into our vernacular Castilian, for the universal entertainment of all people.”
Don Quixote had him stand, and he said:
“So then, is it true that my history exists, and that it was composed by a wise Moor?”
“It is so true, Señor,” said Sansón, “that I believe there are more than twelve thousand copies of this history in print today; if you do not think so, let Portugal, Barcelona, and Valencia tell you so, for they were printed there; there is even a rumor that it is being printed in Antwerp, and it is evident to me that every nation or language will have its translation of the book.”3
“One of the things,” said Don Quixote, “that must give the greatest contentment to a virtuous and eminent man is to see, while he is still alive, his good name printed and published in the languages of different peoples. I said good name, for if it were the opposite, no death could be its equal.”
“In the matter of a good reputation and a good name,” said the bachelor, “your grace alone triumphs over all other knights errant, for the Moor in his language and the Christian in his were careful to depict very vividly the gallantry of your grace, your great courage in confronting danger, your patience in adversity, your forbearance in the face of misfortunes and wounds, the virtue and modesty of the Platonic love of your grace and my lady Doña Dulcinea of Toboso.”
“Never,” said Sancho Panza, “have I heard my lady Dulcinea called Doña, just Señora Dulcinea of Toboso, and that’s where the history’s wrong.”
“That is not an important objection,” responded Carrasco.
“No, of course not,” responded Don Quixote, “but tell me, Señor Bachelor: which deeds of mine are praised the most in this history?”
“In that regard,” responded the bachelor, “there are different opinions, just as there are different tastes: some prefer the adventure of the windmills, which your grace thought were Briareuses and giants; others, that of the waterwheel; one man favors the description of the two armies that turned out to be two flocks of sheeps; the other praises the adventure of the body that was being carried to Segovia for burial; one says that the adventure of the galley slaves is superior to all the rest; another, that none equals that of the two gigantic Benedictines and the dispute with the valiant Basque.”
“Tell me, Señor Bachelor,” said Sancho, “is the adventure of the Yanguesans mentioned, when our good Rocinante took a notion to ask for the moon?”
“The wise man,” responded Sansón, “left nothing in the inkwell; he says everything and takes note of everything, even the capering that our good Sancho did in the blanket.”
“In the blanket I wasn’t capering,” responded Sancho, “but I was in the air, and more than I would have liked.”
“It seems to me,” said Don Quixote, “there is no human history in the world that does not have its ups and downs, especially those that deal