Don Quixote_ Translation by Edith Grossman (HarperCollins) - Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra [503]
That afternoon the gentlemen took Don Quixote out riding, dressed not in armor but in ordinary street clothes, a long, caped cassock of tawny woolen cloth that would have made ice itself perspire at that time of year. The servants were told to keep Sancho entertained and not to let him leave the house. Don Quixote did not ride Rocinante but was mounted on a large, smooth-gaited mule with very fine trappings. They gave him the cassock to put on, and on the back, which he did not see, they had attached a sign that read, in large letters: This is Don Quixote of La Mancha. As they were starting out, the announcement caught the eye of all the passersby, and since they read “This is Don Quixote of La Mancha,” Don Quixote was surprised to see that everyone who looked at him recognized him and knew his name; turning to Don Antonio, who was at his side, he said:
“Great is the prerogative contained within knight errantry, rendering the man who professes it well-known and famous everywhere on earth, for your grace will observe, Señor Don Antonio, that even the boys in this city, who have never seen me before, know who I am.”
“That is so, Señor Don Quixote,” responded Don Antonio, “for just as fire cannot be hidden and enclosed, virtue cannot fail to be recognized, and that which is achieved through the profession of arms exceeds and outshines all others.”
It so happened that while Don Quixote was receiving the acclaim that has been mentioned, a Castilian who read the sign on his back raised his voice and said:
“The devil take Don Quixote of La Mancha! How did you get this far without dying from all the beatings you’ve received? You’re a madman, and if you were a madman in private, behind the doors of your madness, it wouldn’t be so bad, but you have the attribute of turning everyone who deals with you or talks to you into madmen and fools, too; if you don’t believe me, just look at these gentlemen who are accompanying you. Return, fool, to your house, and look after your estate, your wife, and your children, and stop this nonsense that is rotting your brain and ruining your mind.”
“Brother,” said Don Antonio, “go on your way, and don’t give advice to people who don’t ask for it. Señor Don Quixote of La Mancha is a very prudent man, and we who accompany him are not dolts; virtue must be honored wherever it is found; go now, and bad luck to you, and stop minding other people’s business.”
“By God, your grace is right,” responded the Castilian. “Giving this good man advice is like kicking at thorns; even so, it makes me very sad that the good sense everyone says this fool has in other matters should run out into the gutter of his knight errantry; as for the bad luck your grace mentioned, let it be for me and all my descendants if after today, though I live longer than Methuselah, I ever give advice to anybody again, even if he asks for it.”
The dispenser of advice left, and the excursion continued, but there was such a crush of boys and other people reading the sign that Don Antonio had to remove it, under the pretext that he was removing something else.
Night fell; they returned home, where there was a soirée of ladies, for Don Antonio’s wife, who was wellborn, good-natured, beautiful, and clever, had invited her friends to come and honor their guest and enjoy his incomparable madness. A number of ladies attended, a splendid supper was served, and the soirée began when it was almost ten o’clock. Among the ladies there were two with mischievous and jocund tastes, and although very respectable, they were somewhat brash in devising amusing but harmless jokes. They were so insistent on Don Quixote’s dancing with them that they exhausted