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Don Quixote

Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra · c. 1605–1615 primary

passage 516 of 841 · CHAPTER I WHICH TREATS OF THE CHARACTER AND > CHAPTER XIV. (4/9)

in brief
Sancho questions the absurd padded bag battle, tries to avoid fighting while arguing God favors peace, and the Grove squire proposes waking anger with buffets so the duel can proceed.

half a dozen nice smooth pebbles, all of the same weight; and in this way we shall be able to baste one another without doing ourselves any harm or mischief.”

“Body of my father!” said Sancho, “see what marten and sable, and pads of carded cotton he is putting into the bags, that our heads may not be broken and our bones beaten to jelly! But even if they are filled with toss silk, I can tell you, señor, I am not going to fight; let our masters fight, that’s their lookout, and let us drink and live; for time will take care to ease us of our lives, without our going to look for fillips so that they may be finished off before their proper time comes and they drop from ripeness.”

“Still,” returned he of the Grove, “we must fight, if it be only for half an hour.”

“By no means,” said Sancho; “I am not going to be so discourteous or so ungrateful as to have any quarrel, be it ever so small, with one I have eaten and drunk with; besides, who the devil could bring himself to fight in cold blood, without anger or provocation?”

“I can remedy that entirely,” said he of the Grove, “and in this way: before we begin the battle, I will come up to your worship fair and softly, and give you three or four buffets, with which I shall stretch you at my feet and rouse your anger, though it were sleeping sounder than a dormouse.”

“To match that plan,” said Sancho, “I have another that is not a whit behind it; I will take a cudgel, and before your worship comes near enough to waken my anger I will send yours so sound to sleep with whacks, that it won’t waken unless it be in the other world, where it is known that I am not a man to let my face be handled by anyone; let each look out for the arrow—though the surer way would be to let everyone’s anger sleep, for nobody knows the heart of anyone, and a man may come for wool and go back shorn; God gave his blessing to peace and his curse to quarrels; if a hunted cat, surrounded and hard pressed, turns into a lion, God knows what I, who am a man, may turn into; and so from this time forth I warn you, sir squire, that all the harm and mischief that may come of our quarrel will be put down to your account.”

“Very good,” said he of the Grove; “God will send the dawn and we shall be all right.”

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topics: fate, destiny, and necessity · justice as a virtue · strategy and the aims of war

Don Quixote · Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra · 1605–1615