• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“I say four, or perhaps five,” responded Don Quixote, “because never in my life have I had a tooth or molar pulled, nor has one ever fallen out, or been eaten by decay, or afflicted by any abscess.”

“Well, in this lower part,” said Sancho, “your grace has no more than two and a half molars, and in the upper part, none at all, not even a half; it’s all as smooth as the palm of your hand.”

“Woe is me!” said Don Quixote when he heard the sad news from his squire. “I should rather have lost an arm, as long as it was not the one that wields my sword. For I must tell you, Sancho, that a mouth without molars is like a mill without a millstone, and dentation is to be valued much more than diamonds. But we who profess the arduous order of chivalry are subject to all of this. Mount, my friend, and lead the way, for I shall follow you along any path you choose.”

Sancho did so and headed in the direction where he thought they might find lodging without leaving the king’s highway, which was very well traveled in that area.

They rode very slowly because the pain in Don Quixote’s jaws gave him no peace and did not allow him to go any faster; Sancho wanted to divert and distract him by talking to him, and among other things, he said what will be related in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XIX

Regarding the discerning words that Sancho exchanged with his master, and the adventure he had with a dead body, as well as other famous events

“It seems to me, Señor, that all these misfortunes we’ve had recently are surely a punishment for the sin your grace committed against your order of chivalry, since you didn’t keep the vow you made not to eat bread from a tablecloth or to lie with the queen, and everything else that comes afterward and that your grace swore to fulfill, including taking that helmet of Malandrino1 or whatever the Moor’s name is, I don’t remember exactly.”

“You are certainly correct, Sancho,” said Don Quixote, “but to tell you the truth, it had slipped my mind; and you can also be sure your negligence in not reminding me of it in time is the reason you had the incident with the blanket, but I shall rectify that for you, for in the order of chivalry there are means to grant dispensations for everything.”

“But when did I ever swear to anything?” responded Sancho.

“It does not matter that you have not made a vow,” said Don Quixote. “It is enough for me to understand that you are not completely free of complicity, and so, just in case, it would be a good idea for us to settle on a remedy.”

“Well, if that’s true,” said Sancho, “your grace should be sure not to forget about it the way you forgot your vow; maybe the phantoms will feel like having fun with me again, or even with your grace, if they see you being so persistent.”

They were engaged in this and other conversations when night found them still on the road, not having found a place to sleep; even worse, they were perishing of hunger, for the loss of the saddlebags meant the loss of all their provisions and supplies. And as a final confirmation of their misfortune, they had an adventure that, without any kind of contrivance, really did seem to be one. And so night fell, bringing some darkness with it, but despite this they continued on, for Sancho believed that since the road was the king’s highway, in one or two leagues it was likely they would find an inn.

They were riding along, then, the night dark, the squire hungry, and the master with a desire to eat, when they saw coming toward them, on the same road they were traveling, a great multitude of lights that looked like nothing so much as moving stars. Sancho was frightened when he saw them, and Don Quixote felt uneasy; one tugged on his donkey’s halter, and the other pulled at the reins of his skinny horse, and they came to a halt, looking carefully to see what those lights might be, and they saw them approaching, and the closer they came the bigger they seemed; seeing this, Sancho began to tremble like a jack-in-the-box, and the hairs on Don Quixote’s head stood on