and this was no doubt a kind of prophecy, for poets
are also called vates, that is to say diviners; and
its truth was made plain; for since then a famous
Andalusian poet has lamented and sung her tears, and
another famous and rare poet, a Castilian, has sung
her beauty.”
“Tell me, Senor Don Quixote,” said the
barber here, “among all those who praised her,
has there been no poet to write a satire on this Lady
Angelica?”
“I can well believe,” replied Don Quixote,
“that if Sacripante or Roland had been poets
they would have given the damsel a trimming; for it
is naturally the way with poets who have been scorned
and rejected by their ladies, whether fictitious or
not, in short by those whom they select as the ladies
of their thoughts, to avenge themselves in satires
and libels—a vengeance, to be sure, unworthy
of generous hearts; but up to the present I have not
heard of any defamatory verse against the Lady Angelica,
who turned the world upside down.”
“Strange,” said the curate; but at this
moment they heard the housekeeper and the niece, who
had previously withdrawn from the conversation, exclaiming
aloud in the courtyard, and at the noise they all ran
out.
Which treats of the notable
altercation which Sancho Panza
had with Don Quixote’s niece,
and housekeeper, together with
other droll matters
The history relates that the outcry Don Quixote, the
curate, and the barber heard came from the niece and
the housekeeper exclaiming to Sancho, who was striving
to force his way in to see Don Quixote while they
held the door against him, “What does the vagabond
want in this house? Be off to your own, brother,
for it is you, and no one else, that delude my master,
and lead him astray, and take him tramping about the
country.”
To which Sancho replied, “Devil’s own
housekeeper! it is I who am deluded, and led astray,
and taken tramping about the country, and not thy
master! He has carried me all over the world,
and you are mightily mistaken. He enticed me
away from home by a trick, promising me an island,
which I am still waiting for.”
“May evil islands choke thee, thou detestable
Sancho,” said the niece; “What are islands?
Is it something to eat, glutton and gormandiser that
thou art?”
“It is not something to eat,” replied
Sancho, “but something to govern and rule, and
better than four cities or four judgeships at court.”
“For all that,” said the housekeeper,
“you don’t enter here, you bag of mischief
and sack of knavery; go govern your house and dig your
seed-patch, and give over looking for islands or shylands.”
