Tracks Of A Rolling Stone by Henry J. Coke (free e reader txt) 📖
- Author: Henry J. Coke
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Till Morning Over The Armour He Had Laid By The Well. It Was
Here That, With His Spear, He Broke The Head Of The Carrier
Whom He Took For Another Knight Bent On The Rape Of The
Virgin Princesses Committed To His Charge. Here, Too, It Was
That The Host Of The Venta Dubbed Him With The Coveted
Knighthood Which Qualified Him For His Noble Deeds.
To Quesada We Wended Our Way. We Asked The Senor Huesped
Whether He Knew Anything Of The History Of His Venta. Was It
Not Very Ancient?
'Oh No, It Was Quite Modern. But On The Site Of It Had Stood
A Fine Venta Which Was Burnt Down At The Time Of The War.'
'An Old Building?'
'Yes, Indeed! A Cosa De Siempre - Thing Of Always. Nothing,
Was Left Of It Now But That Well, And The Stone Trough.'
These Bore Marks Of Antiquity, And Were Doubtless As The
Gallant Knight Had Left Them. Curiously, Too, There Were
Remains Of An Outhouse With A Crenellated Parapet, Suggestive
Enough Of A Castle.
From Quesada We Rode To Argamasilla Del Alba, Where Cervantes
Was Imprisoned, And Where The First Part Of Don Quixote Was
Written.
In His Life Of Cervantes, Don Gregorio Mayano Throws Some
Doubt Upon This. Speaking Of The Attacks Of His
Contemporary, The 'Aragonian,' Don Gregorio Writes (I Give
Ozell's Translation): 'As For This Scandalous Fellow's
Saying That Cervantes Wrote His First Part Of "Don Quixote"
In A Prison, And That That Might Make It So Dull And
Incorrect, Cervantes Did Not Think Fit To Give Any Answer
Concerning His Being Imprisoned, Perhaps To Avoid Giving
Offence To The Ministers Of Justice; For Certainly His
Imprisonment Must Not Have Been Ignominious, Since Cervantes
Himself Voluntarily Mentions It In His Preface To The First
Part Of "Don Quixote."'
This Reasoning, However, Does Not Seem Conclusive; For The
Only Reference To The Subject In The Preface Is As Follows:
'What Could My Sterile And Uncultivated Genius Produce But
The History Of A Child, Meagre, Adust, And Whimsical, Full Of
Various Wild Imaginations Never Thought Of Before; Like One
You May Suppose Born In A Prison, Where Every Inconvenience
Keeps Its Residence, And Every Dismal Sound Its Habitation?'
We Took Up Our Quarters In The Little Town At The 'Posada De
Chapter 34 Pg 181La Mina.' While Our Olla Was Being Prepared; We Asked The
Hostess Whether She Had Ever Heard Of The Celebrated Don
Miguel De Cervantes, Who Had Been Imprisoned There? (I Will
Quote Cayley).
'No, Senores; I Think I Have Heard Of One Cervantes, But He
Does Not Live Here At Present.'
'Do You Know Anything Of Don Quixote?'
'Oh, Yes. He Was A Great Caballero, Who Lived Here Some
Years Ago. His House Is Over The Way, On The Other Side Of
The Plaza, With The Arms Over The Door. The Father Of The
Alcalde Is The Oldest Man In The Pueblo; Perhaps He May
Remember Him.'
We Were Amused At His Hero's Fame Outliving That Of The
Author. But Is It Not So With Others - The Writers Of The
Book Of Job, Of The Pentateuch, And Perhaps, Too, Of The
'Iliad,' If Not Of The 'Odyssey'?
But, To Let Cayley Speak:
'While We Were Undressing To Go To Bed, Three Gentlemen Were
Announced And Shown In. We Begged Them To Be Seated. . . .
We Sat Opposite On The Ends Of Our Respective Beds To Hear
What They Might Have To Communicate. A Venerable Old Man
Opened The Conference.
'"We Have Understood, Gentlemen, That You Have Come Hither
Seeking For Information Respecting The Famous Don Quixote,
And We Have Come To Give You Such Information As We May; But,
Perhaps You Will Understand Me Better If I Speak In Latin."
'"We Have Learnt The Latin At Our Schools, But Are More
Accustomed To Converse In Castilian; Pray Proceed."
'"I Am The Medico Of The Place, An Old Man, As You See; And
What Little I Know Has Reached Me By Tradition. It Is
Reported That Cervantes Was Paying His Addresses To A Young
Lady, Whose Name Was Quijana Or Quijada. The Alcalde,
Disapproving Of The Suit, Put Him Into A Dungeon Under His
House, And Kept Him There A Year. Once He Escaped And Fled,
But He Was Taken In Toboso, And Brought Back. Cervantes
Wrote 'Don Quixote' As A Satire On The Alcalde, Who Was A
Very Proud Man, Full Of Chivalresque Ideas. You Can See The
Dungeon To-Morrow; But You Should See The Batanes (Water-
Mills) Of The Guadiana, Whose 'Golpear' So Terrified Sancho
Panza. They Are At About Three Leagues Distance."'
The Old Gentleman Added That He Was Proud To Receive
Strangers Who Came To Do Honour To The Memory Of His
Illustrious Townsman; And Hoped We Would Visit Him Next Day,
On Our Return From The Fulling-Mills, When He Would Have The
Chapter 34 Pg 182Pleasure Of Conducting Us To The House Of The Quijanas, In
The Cellars Of Which Cervantes Was Confined.
To The Batanes We Went Next Morning. Their Historical
Importance Entitles Them To An Accurate Description. None
Could Be More Lucid Than That Of My Companion. 'These
Clumsy, Ancient Machines Are Composed Of A Couple Of Huge
Wooden Mallets, Slung In A Timber Framework, Which, Being
Pushed Out Of The Perpendicular By Knobs On A Water-Wheel,
Clash Back Again Alternately In Two Troughs, Pounding
Severely Whatever May Be Put In Between The Face Of The
Mallet And The End Of The Trough Into Which The Water Runs.'
It Will Be Remembered That, After A Copious Meal, Sancho
Having Neglected To Replenish The Gourd, Both He And His
Master Suffered Greatly From Thirst. It Was Now 'So Dark,'
Says The History, 'That They Could See Nothing; But They Had
Not Gone Two Hundred Paces When A Great Noise Of Water
Reached Their Ears. . . . The Sound Rejoiced Them
Exceedingly; And, Stopping To Listen From Whence It Came,
They Heard On A Sudden Another Dreadful Noise, Which Abated
Their Pleasure Occasioned By That Of The Water, Especially
Sancho's. . . . They Heard A Dreadful Din Of Irons And Chains
Rattling Across One Another, And Giving Mighty Strokes In
Time And Measure Which, Together With The Furious Noise Of
The Water, Would Have Struck Terror Into Any Other Heart Than
That Of Don Quixote.' For Him It Was But An Opportunity For
Some Valorous Achievement. So, Having Braced On His Buckler
And Mounted Rosinante, He Brandished His Spear, And Explained
To His Trembling Squire That By The Will Of Heaven He Was
Reserved For Deeds Which Would Obliterate The Memory Of The
Platirs, Tablantes, The Olivantes, And Belianesas, With The
Whole Tribe Of The Famous Knights-Errant Of Times Past.
'Wherefore, Straighten Rosinante's Girths A Little,' Said He,
'And God Be With You. Stay For Me Here Three Days, And No
More; If I Do Not Return In That Time You May Go To Toboso,
Where You Shall Say To My Incomparable Lady Dulcinea That Her
Enthralled Knight Died In Attempting Things That Might Have
Made Him Worthy To Be Styled "Hers."'
Sancho, More Terrified Than Ever At The Thoughts Of Being
Left Alone, Reminded His Master That It Was Unwise To Tempt
God By Undertaking Exploits From Which There Was No Escaping
But By A Miracle; And, In Order To Emphasize This Very
Sensible Remark, Secretly Tied Rosinante's Hind Legs Together
With His Halter. Seeing The Success Of His Contrivance, He
Said: 'Ah, Sir! Behold How Heaven, Moved By My Tears And
Prayers, Has Ordained That Rosinante Cannot Go,' And Then
Warned Him Not To Set Providence At Defiance. Still Sancho
Was Much Too Frightened By The Infernal Clatter To Relax His
Hold Of The Knight's Saddle. For Some Time He Strove To
Beguile His Own Fears With A Very Long Story About The
Goatherd Lope Ruiz, Who Was In Love With The Shepherdess
Chapter 34 Pg 183Torralva - 'A Jolly, Strapping Wench, A Little Scornful, And
Somewhat Masculine.' Now, Whether Owing To The Cold Of The
Morning, Which Was At Hand, Or Whether To Some Lenitive Diet
On Which He Had Supped, It So Befell That Sancho . . . What
Nobody Could Do For Him. The Truth Is, The Honest Fellow Was
Overcome By Panic, And Under No Circumstances Would, Or Did,
He For One Instant Leave His Master's Side. Nay, When The
Knight Spurred His Steed And Found It Could Not Move, Sancho
Reminded Him That The Attempt Was Useless, Since Rosinante
Was Restrained By Enchantment. This The Knight Readily
Admitted, But Stoutly Protested That He Himself Was Anything
But Enchanted By The Close Proximity Of His Squire.
We All Remember The Grave Admonitions Of Don Quixote, And The
Ingenious Endeavours Of Sancho To Lay The Blame Upon The
Knight. But The Final Words Of The Don Contain A Moral
Apposite To So Many Other Important Situations, That They
Must Not Be Omitted Here. 'Apostare, Replico Sancho, Que
Pensa Vuestra Merced Que Yo He Hecho De Mi Persona Alguna
Cosa Que No Deba.' 'I Will Lay A Wager,' Replied Sancho,
'That Your Worship Thinks That I Have &C.' The Brief, But
Memorable, Answer Was: 'Peor Es Meneallo, Amigo Sancho,'
Which, As No Translation Could Do Justice To It, Must Be Left
As It Stands. Quieta Non Movere.
We Were Nearly Meeting With An Adventure Here. While I Was
Busy Making A Careful Drawing Of The Batanes, Cayley's Pony
Was As Much Alarmed By The Rushing Waters As Had Been Sancho
Panza. In His Endeavours To Picket The Animal, My Friend
Dropped A Pistol Which I Had Lent Him To Practise With,
Although He Carried A Revolver Of His Own. Not Till He Had
Tied Up The Pony At Some Little Distance Did He Discover The
Loss. In Vain He Searched The Spot Where He Knew The Pistol
Must Have Escaped From His Faja. Near It, Three Rough-
Looking Knaves In Shaggy Goatskin Garments, With Guns Over
Their Shoulders, Were Watching The Progress Of My Sketch. On
His Return Cayley Asked Two Of These (The Third Moved Away As
He Came Up) Whether They Had Seen The Pistol. They Declared
They Had Not; Upon Which He Said He Must Search Them. He Was
Not A Man To Be Trifled With, And Although They Refused At
First, They Presently Submitted. He Then Overtook The Third,
And At Once Accused Him Of The Theft. The Man Swore He Knew
Nothing Of The Lost Weapon, And Brought His Gun To The
Charge. As He Did So, Cayley Caught Sight Of The Pistol
Under The Fellow's Sheepskin Jacket, And With Characteristic
Promptitude Seized It, While He Presented A Revolver At The
Thief's Head. All This He Told Me With Great Glee A
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