before the ladies, at a harmless tournament, comes prancing through the lists inclosed in shining steel; or those court champions, who in exercises of martial kind, or that at least are such in appearance, shew their activity: and though all they do is nothing but for recreation, are thought the ornament of a prince's court! But a much nobler figure is the knight-errant, who, fired with the thirst of a glorious fame, wanders through deserts, through solitary wildernesses, through woods, through cross-ways, over mountains and valleys, in quest of perilous adventures, resolved to bring them to a happy conclusion. Yes, I say, a nobler figure is a knight-errant succouring a widow in some depopulated place, than the court-knight making his addresses to the city dames. Every knight has his particular employment. Let the courtier wait on the ladies; let him with splendid equipage adorn his prince's court, and with a magnificent table support poor gentlemen. Let him give birth to feasts and tournaments, and shew his grandeur, and liberality, and munificence, and especially his piety; in all these things he fulfils the duties of his station. But as for the knight-errant, let him search into all the corners of the world, enter into the most intricate labyrinths, and every hour be ready to attempt impossibility itself: Let him in desolate wilds baffle the rigour of the weather, the scorching heat of the sun's fiercest beams, and the inclemency of winds and snow: Let lions never fright him, dragons daunt him, nor evil spirits deter him. To go in quest of these, to meet, to dare, to conflict, and to overcome them all, is his principal and proper office. Since then my stars

have decreed me to be one of those adventurous knights, I think myself obliged to attempt every thing that seems to come within the verge of my profession. This, sir, engaged me to encounter those lions just now, judging it to be my immediate business, though I was sensible of the extreme rashness of the undertaking. For well I know, that valour is a virtue situate between the two vicious extremes of cowardice and temerity. But certainly it is not so ill for a valiant man to rise to a degree of rashness; as it is to fall short, and border upon cowardice. For as it is easier for a prodigal to become liberal, than a miser; so it is easier for the hardy and rash person to be reduced to true bravery, than for the coward ever to rise to that virtue: And therefore, in thus attempting adventures, believe me, Signor Don Diego, it is better to exceed the bounds a little, and overdo, rather than underdo the thing; because it sounds better in people's ears to hear it said, how that such a knight is rash and hardy, than such a knight is dastardly and timorous."

"For my part, sir," answered Don Diego, "I think all you have said and done is agreeable to the exactest rules of reason; and I believe, if the laws and ordinances of knight-errantry were lost, they might be all recovered from you, your breast seeming to be the safe repository and archive where they are lodged. But it grows late; let us make a little more haste to get to our village, and to my habitation, where you may rest yourself after the fatigues, which doubtless you have sustained, if not in body, at least in mind, whose pains often afflict the body too." "Sir,"answer

ed Don Quixote, "I esteem your offer as a singular favour;" and so, putting on a little faster than they had done before, about two in the afternoon they reached the village, and got to the house of Don Diego, whom now Don Quixote called the Knight of the Green Coat.

CHAPTER XVIII.

How Don Quixote was entertained at the Castle or House of the Knight of the Green Coat, with other extravagant Passages.

DON QUIXOTE found, that Don Diego de Miranda's house was spacious, after the country manner; the arms of the family were over the gate in rough stone, the buttery in the fore-yard, the cellar under the porch, and all around several great jars of that sort commonly made at Toboso; the sight of which bringing to his remembrance his enchanted and transformed Dulcinea, he heaved a deep sigh, and neither minding what he said, nor who was by, broke out into the following exclamation :

"*O! pledges, once my comfort and relief, Though pleasing still, discovered now with grief."

"O ye Tobosian urns, that awaken in my mind the thoughts of the sweet pledge of my most bitter

* O dulces prendas, the beginning of a sonnet in the Diana of Montemayor.

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sorrows! Don Diego's son, who, as it has been said, was a student, and poetically inclined, heard these words as he came with his mother to welcome him home; and, as well as she, was not a little surprised to see what a strange creature his father had brought with him. Don Quixote alighted from Rozinante, and very courteously desiring to kiss her ladyship's hands, "Madam," said Don Diego, "this gentleman is the noble Don Quixote de la Mancha, the wisest, and most valiant knight-errant in the world; pray let him find a welcome suitable to his merit, and your usual civility." Thereupon Donna Christina (for that was the lady's name) received him very kindly, and with great marks of respect; to which Don Quixote made a proper and handsome return ; and then almost the same compliments passed between him and the young gentleman, whom Don Quixote judged by his words to be a man of wit and sense.

Here the author inserts a long description of every particular in Don Diego's house, giving us an inventory of all the goods and chattels, and every circumstance peculiar to the house of a rich country gentleman: But the translator presumed that it would be better to omit these little things, and such like insignificant matters, being foreign to the main subject of this history, which ought to be more grounded on material truth, than cold and insipid digressions.

Don Quixote was brought into a fair room, where Sancho took off his armour, and then the knight ap

peared in a pair of close breeches, and a doublet of shamoy-leather, all besmeared with the rust of his armour. About his neck he wore a plain band, unstarched, after the manner of a student; about his legs sad-coloured spatter-dashes, and on his feet a pair of wax-leather shoes. He hung his trusty sword by his side in a belt of a sea-wolf's skin; which makes many of opinion he had been long troubled with a pain in the kidneys. Over all this he clapped on a long cloak of good russet-cloth: But first of all he washed his head and face in five kettlefulls of water, if not in six: for as to the exact number there is some dispute. And it is observable, that the water still retained a tincture of whey: Thanks to Sancho's gluttony, which had made him clap into his master's helmet those dismal curds, that so contaminated his awful head and face.

In this dress the knight, with a graceful and sprightly air, walked into another room, where Don Lorenzo, the young gentleman whom we have already mentioned, waited his coming, to keep him company till the cloth was laid; the mistress of the house being gone in the meantime to provide a handsome entertainment, that might convince her guest she understood how to make those welcome that came to her house. But before the knight was ready, Don Lorenzo had leisure to discourse his father about him." Pray, sir," said he, "who is this gentleman you have brought with you? Considering his name, his aspect, and the title of knight-errant, which you give him, neither my mother nor I can tell what to think of him.". 66 Truly, son," answer

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