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By Root 789 0

they would begin to scratch each other, and then, when they were tired and satisfied, Rocinante would lay his neck across the donkey’s—it would extend almost half a meter on the other side—and, staring intently at the ground, the two of them could stand this way for three days or, at least, for as long as they were permitted to do so or were not compelled by hunger to look for food.

I say, then, that it is said that the author wrote that he compared their friendship to that of Nisus and Euryalus, and Pylades and Orestes,2 and if this is true, we can infer, to widespread admiration, how deep the friendship of these two peaceable animals must have been, to the shame of human beings who do not know how to maintain their friendships. For this reason, it has been said:

No man is friend to his friend:

their canes are turned into lances;

and this, that was sung:

Bedbugs are passed from friend to friend.3

No one should think that the author digressed by comparing the friendship of these animals to that of men, for men have learned a good deal from animals and have been taught many important things by them, for example: from storks, the enema,4 from dogs, vomiting5 and gratitude; from cranes, vigilance;6 from ants, foresight; from elephants, chastity; and loyalty from the horse.

Finally Sancho fell asleep at the foot of a cork tree, and Don Quixote dozed under a hardy oak; not too much time had gone by when he was awakened by a noise at his back, and starting to his feet, he began to listen and to look in the direction of the sound, and he saw that there were two men on horseback and that one, dropping to the ground, said to the other:

“Get down, my friend, and unbridle the horses, for it seems to me that this spot has an abundance of grass for them, and the silence and solitude that I require for my amorous thoughts.”

Saying this and lying down on the ground were all one, and as he lay down, the armor he was wearing made a noise, a clear sign by which Don Quixote recognized that he must be a knight errant; and going up to Sancho, who was asleep, he grasped his arm and with no small effort brought him back to consciousness, and in a quiet voice he said:

“Brother Sancho, we have an adventure.”

“May God make it a good one,” responded Sancho. “And where, Señor, is her grace this lady adventure?”

“Where, Sancho?” replied Don Quixote. “Turn around and look, and there you will see a knight errant lying on the ground, and from what I can deduce he is not very happy, because I saw him get down from his horse and stretch out on the ground showing certain signs of discouragement, and when he lay down I could hear his armor clattering.”

“Well, what makes your grace think,” said Sancho, “that this is an adventure?”

“I do not mean to say,” responded Don Quixote, “that this is a complete adventure, but rather the start of one; this is the way adventures begin. But listen: it seems as if he is tuning a lute or vihuela,7 and considering how he is spitting and clearing his throat, he must be preparing to sing something.”

“By my faith, that’s true,” responded Sancho, “and so he must be a knight in love.”

“There is no knight errant who is not,” said Don Quixote. “Let us listen to him, and if he does sing, by following the thread we shall discover the skein of his thoughts, for the tongue speaks from the overflowing abundance of the heart.”

Sancho wanted to reply, but the voice of the Knight of the Wood, which was neither very bad nor very good, prevented him from doing so, and the two men listened in amazement as he sang this sonnet:

Set for me, lady, the line I must pursue,

created by and matching your sweet will;

and it shall be so rev’renced by my own,

that I’ll ne’er contravene its slightest whim.

If you wish my voice mute about my ills

until I die, then here I’ve reached my end:

if you desire my woes sung in a fashion

rare and strange, then love himself will chant them.

A perfect proof of contraries I’ve become,

hard as diamond, soft as wax, and yet my soul

reconciles them, obeying the laws of love.

I bare my breast