Dulcinea del Toboso. The bachelor told him, that though he were none of the famous poets of Spain, who, they say, were but three and a half,* he would endeavor to make that acrostic; though he was sensible this would be no easy task, there being seventeen letters in the name; so that if he made four stanzas of four verses a-piece, there would be a letter too much; and if he made his stanzas of five lines, so as to make a double Decima or a Redondilla, there would be three letters too little; however, he would strive to drown a letter, and so take in the whole name of sixteen verses." "Let it be so by any means," said Don Quixote; "for no woman will believe that those verses were made for her where her name is not plainly to be discerned." After this it was agreed they should set out within a week. Don Quixote charged the bachelor not to speak a word of all this, especially to the curate, Mr. Nicholas the barber, his niece, and his housekeeper, lest they should obstruct his honorable and valorous design. Carrasco gave him his word, and having desired Don Quixote to send an account of his good or bad success at his conveniency, took his leave, and left him; and Sancho went to get every thing ready for his journey.

* The first, Alonzo de Ercilla, author of the Araucana : (an epic poem, which I have read with a great deal of pleasure, nor did it cost me a little money to purchase it of the late Mr. Rymer,) the second, Juan Rufo of Cordova, author of the Austriada; and the third, Christopher Verves of Valencia, author of the Montserrate. By the half-poet, Don Gregoir thinks Cervantes means himself.

CHAPTER V.

THE WISE AND PLEASANT DIALOGUE BETWEEN SANCHO PANZA, AND TERESA PANZA HIS WIFE; TOGETHER WITH OTHER PASSAGES WORTHY OF HAPPY MEMORY.

THE translator of this history, being come to this fifth chapter, thinks fit to inform the reader, that he holds it to be apocryphal; because it introduces Sancho speaking another style than could be expected from his slender capacity, and saying things of so refined a nature, that it seems impossible he could do it. However, he thought himself obliged to render it in our tongue, to maintain the character of a faithful translator, and therefore he goes on in this manner.

" I

Sancho came home so cheerful and so merry, that his wife read his joy in his looks as far as she could see him. Being impatient to know the cause, " My dear," cried she, "what makes you so merry?" should be more merry, my chuck," quoth Sancho, "would but heaven so order it, that I were not so well pleased as I seem to be." "You speak riddles, husband," quoth she; "I don't know what you mean by saying, You should be more merry if you were not so well pleased; for, though I am silly enough, I cannot think a man can take pleasure in not being pleased." "Look ye, Teresa," quoth Sancho, "I am merry because I am once more going to serve my master Don Quixote, who is resolved to have another frolic, and go a hunting after adven

tures, and I must go with him; for he needs must, whom the devil drives. What should I lie starving at home for? The hopes of finding another parcel of gold like that we spent, rejoices the cockles of my heart; but then it grieves me to leave thee, and those sweet babes of ours; and would heaven but be pleased to let me live at home dry-shod, in peace and quietness, without gadding over hill and dale, through brambles and briars (as heaven might well do with small cost, if it would, and with no manner of trouble, but only to be willing that it should be so,) why then it is a clear case that my mirth would be more firm and sound, since my present gladness is mingled with a sorrow to part with thee. And so I think I have made out what I have said, that I should be merrier if I did not seem

pleased."

so well

"Look you, Sancho," quoth the wife, "ever since you have been a member of a knight-errant, you talk so round about the bush, that nobody can understand you." "It is enough," quoth Sancho, "that he understands me who understands all things; and so scatter no more words about it spouse. But be sure you look carefully after Dapple for these three days, that he may be in good case and fit to bear arms; double his pittance, look out his pannel and all his harness, and let every thing be set to rights; for we are not going to a wedding, but to roam about the world, and to make our party good with giants, and dragons, and hobgoblins, and to hear nothing but hissing, and yelling, and roaring, and howling, and bellowing; all which would be but sugar-plums, if we were not to meet

with the Yanguesian carriers,* and enchanted Moors." "Nay, as for that, husband," quoth Teresa, "I am apt enough to think you squire-errants don't eat their master's bread for nothing; and therefore it shall be my daily prayer, that you may quickly be freed from that plaguy trouble." "Troth, wife," quoth Sancho," were not I in hopes to see myself, ere it be long, governor of an island, o' my conscience I should drop down dead on the spot." "Not so, my chicken," quoth the wife. "Let the hen live, though it be with pip. Do thou live, and let all the governments in the world go to the devil. Thou camest out of thy mother's belly without government, thou hast lived hitherto without government, and thou mayest be carried to thy long home without government, when it shall please the Lord. How many people in this world live without government, yet do well enough, and are well looked upon? There is no sauce in the world like hunger, and as the poor never want that, they always eat with a good stomach. But look ye, my precious, if it should be thy good luck to get a government, prithee do not forget thy wife and children. Take notice that little Sancho is already full fifteen, and it is high time he went to school, if his uncle the abbot mean to leave him something in the church. Then there is Mary Sancho, your daughter: I dare say the burden of wedlock will never be the death of her, for I shrewdly guess, she longs as much for a husband, as you do for a government; and when

* Who beat the master and man before in the preceding Volume.

all comes to all, better my daughter ill married, than well kept."

"I' good sooth! wife," quoth Sancho, "if it be heaven's blessed will that I get any thing by government, I will see and match Mary Sancho so well, that she shall, at least, be called my lady." "By no means, husband," cried the wife, "let her match with her match; if from clouted shoes you set her upon high heels, and from her coarse russet coat you put her into a fardingale, and from plain Moll, and thee and thou, go to call her madam, and your ladyship, the poor girl won't know how to behave herself, but will every foot make a thousand blunders, and show her homespun country breeding." "Tush! fool," answered Sancho, "it will be but two or three years prenticeship; and then you will see how strangely she will alter; your ladyship and keeping of state will become her, as if they had been made for her; and suppose they should not, what is it to any body? Let her be but a lady, and let what will happen."

"Good Sancho," quoth the wife, "don't look above yourself; I say, keep to the proverb, that says, Birds of a feather flock together." It would be a fine thing, e'trow! for us to go and throw away our child on one of your lordlings, or right worship

* In the original it is, Wipe your neighbor's son's nose, and take him into your house, i. e. Marry him to your daughter. You had better take a neighbor you know with his faults, than a stranger you don't know. Stevens's Dict. under the word Hijo.

The same idea is expressed in a homely old Scots adage, “Better over the midden than over the moor."