Sancho bowed his head very respectfully and kissed
both his hands, for, being tied together, he could
not kiss one; and then the apparitions lifted the
cage upon their shoulders and fixed it upon the ox-cart.
OF THE STRANGE MANNER IN WHICH DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA WAS CARRIED AWAY
ENCHANTED, TOGETHER WITH OTHER REMARKABLE INCIDENTS
When Don Quixote saw himself caged and hoisted on
the cart in this way, he said, “Many grave histories
of knights-errant have I read; but never yet have
I read, seen, or heard of their carrying off enchanted
knights-errant in this fashion, or at the slow pace
that these lazy, sluggish animals promise; for they
always take them away through the air with marvellous
swiftness, enveloped in a dark thick cloud, or on a
chariot of fire, or it may be on some hippogriff or
other beast of the kind; but to carry me off like
this on an ox-cart! By God, it puzzles me!
But perhaps the chivalry and enchantments of our day
take a different course from that of those in days
gone by; and it may be, too, that as I am a new knight
in the world, and the first to revive the already
forgotten calling of knight-adventurers, they may have
newly invented other kinds of enchantments and other
modes of carrying off the enchanted. What thinkest
thou of the matter, Sancho my son?”
“I don’t know what to think,” answered
Sancho, “not being as well read as your worship
in errant writings; but for all that I venture to say
and swear that these apparitions that are about us
are not quite catholic.”
“Catholic!” said Don Quixote. “Father
of me! how can they be Catholic when they are all
devils that have taken fantastic shapes to come and
do this, and bring me to this condition? And
if thou wouldst prove it, touch them, and feel them,
and thou wilt find they have only bodies of air, and
no consistency except in appearance.”
“By God, master,” returned Sancho, “I
have touched them already; and that devil, that goes
about there so busily, has firm flesh, and another
property very different from what I have heard say
devils have, for by all accounts they all smell of
brimstone and other bad smells; but this one smells
of amber half a league off.” Sancho was
here speaking of Don Fernando, who, like a gentleman
of his rank, was very likely perfumed as Sancho said.
“Marvel not at that, Sancho my friend,”
said Don Quixote; “for let me tell thee devils
are crafty; and even if they do carry odours about
with them, they themselves have no smell, because
they are spirits; or, if they have any smell, they
cannot smell of anything sweet, but of something foul
and fetid; and the reason is that as they carry hell
with them wherever they go, and can get no ease whatever
from their torments, and as a sweet smell is a thing
that gives pleasure and enjoyment, it is impossible
that they can smell sweet; if, then, this devil thou
speakest of seems to thee to smell of amber, either
thou art deceiving thyself, or he wants to deceive
thee by making thee fancy he is not a devil.”
