CHAPTER 47
WHEREIN IS CONTINUED THE ACCOUNT OF HOW SANCHO PANZA CONDUCTED HIM-
SELF IN HIS GOVERNMENT
The history says that from the justice court they carried Sancho to a
sumptuous palace, where in a spacious chamber there was a table laid out
with royal magnificence. The clarions sounded as Sancho entered the room,
and four pages came forward to present him with water for his hands, which
Sancho received with great dignity. The music ceased, and Sancho seated
himself at the head of the table, for there was only that seat placed, and no
more than one cover laid. A personage, who it appeared afterwards was a
physician, placed himself standing by his side with a whalebone wand in his
hand. They then lifted up a fine white cloth covering fruit and a great vari-
ety of dishes of different sorts; one who looked like a student said grace,
and a page put a laced bib on Sancho, while another who played the part of
head carver placed a dish of fruit before him. But hardly had he tasted a
morsel when the man with the wand touched the plate with it, and they took
it away from before him with the utmost celerity. The carver, however,
brought him another dish, and Sancho proceeded to try it; but before he
could get at it, not to say taste it, already the wand had touched it and a page
had carried it off with the same promptitude as the fruit. Sancho seeing this
was puzzled, and looking from one to another asked if this dinner was to be
eaten after the fashion of a jugglery trick.
To this he with the wand replied, “It is not to be eaten, senor governor,
except as is usual and customary in other islands where there are governors.
I, senor, am a physician, and I am paid a salary in this island to serve its
governors as such, and I have a much greater regard for their health than for
my own, studying day and night and making myself acquainted with the
governor’s constitution, in order to be able to cure him when he falls sick.
The chief thing I have to do is to attend at his dinners and suppers and allow
him to eat what appears to me to be fit for him, and keep from him what I
think will do him harm and be injurious to his stomach; and therefore I or-
dered that plate of fruit to be removed as being too moist, and that other
dish I ordered to be removed as being too hot and containing many spices
that stimulate thirst; for he who drinks much kills and consumes the radical
moisture wherein life consists.”
“Well then,” said Sancho, “that dish of roast partridges there that seems
so savoury will not do me any harm.”
To this the physician replied, “Of those my lord the governor shall not eat
so long as I live.”
“Why so?” said Sancho.
“Because,” replied the doctor, “our master Hippocrates, the polestar and
beacon of medicine, says in one of his aphorisms omnis saturatio mala,
perdicis autem pessima, which means ‘all repletion is bad, but that of par-
tridge is the worst of all.”
“In that case,” said Sancho, “let senor doctor see among the dishes that
are on the table what will do me most good and least harm, and let me eat it,
without tapping it with his stick; for by the life of the governor, and so may
God suffer me to enjoy it, but I’m dying of hunger; and in spite of the doctor
and all he may say, to deny me food is the way to take my life instead of
prolonging it.”
“Your worship is right, senor governor,” said the physician; “and there-
fore your worship, I consider, should not eat of those stewed rabbits there,
because it is a furry kind of food; if that veal were not roasted and served
with pickles, you might try it; but it is out of the question.”
“That big dish that is smoking farther off,” said Sancho, “seems to me to
be an olla podrida, and out of the diversity of things in such ollas, I can’t fail
to light upon something tasty and good for me.”
“Absit,” said the doctor; “far from us be any such base thought! There is
nothing in the world less nourishing than an olla podrida; to canons, or rec-
tors of colleges, or peasants’ weddings with your ollas podridas, but let us
have none of them on the tables of governors, where everything that is
present should be delicate and refined; and the reason is, that always, every-
where and by everybody, simple medicines are more esteemed than com-
pound ones, for we cannot go wrong in those that are simple, while in the
compound we may, by merely altering the quantity of the things composing
them. But what I am of opinion the governor should cat now in order to pre-
serve and fortify his health is a hundred or so of wafer cakes and a few thin
slices of conserve of quinces, which will settle his stomach and help his
digestion.”
Sancho on hearing this threw himself back in his chair and surveyed the
doctor steadily, and in a solemn tone asked him what his name was and
where he had studied.
He replied, “My name, senor governor, is Doctor Pedro Recio de Aguero
I am a native of a place called Tirteafuera which lies between Caracuel and
Almodovar del Campo, on the right-hand side, and I have the degree of
doctor from the university of Osuna.”
To which Sancho, glowing all over with rage, returned, “Then let Doctor
Pedro Recio de Malaguero, native of Tirteafuera, a place that’s on the right-
hand side as we go from Caracuel to Almodovar del Campo, graduate of
Osuna, get out of my presence at once; or I swear by the sun I’ll take a cud-
gel, and by dint of blows, beginning with him, I’ll not leave a doctor in the
whole island; at least of those I know to be ignorant; for as to learned, wise,
sensible physicians, them I will reverence and honour as divine persons.
Once more I say let Pedro Recio get out of this or I’ll take this chair I am
sitting on and break it over his head. And if they call me to account for it,
I’ll clear myself by saying I served God in killing a bad doctor—a general
executioner. And now give me something to eat, or else take your govern-
ment; for a trade that does not feed its master is not worth two beans.”
The doctor was dismayed when he saw the governor in such a passion,
and he would have made a Tirteafuera out of the room but that the same in-
stant a post-horn sounded in the street; and the carver putting his head out
of the window turned round and said, “It’s a courier from my lord the duke,
no doubt with some despatch of importance.”
The courier came in all sweating and flurried, and taking a paper from his
bosom, placed it in the governor’s hands. Sancho handed it to the majordo-
mo and bade him read the superscription, which ran thus: To Don Sancho
Panza, Governor of the Island of Barataria, into his own hands or those of
his secretary. Sancho when he heard this said, “Which of you is my secre-
tary?” “I am, senor,” said one of those present, “for I can read and write, and
am a Biscayan.” “With that addition,” said Sancho, “you might be secretary
to the emperor himself; open this paper and see what it says.” The new-born
secretary obeyed, and having read the contents said the matter was one to
be discussed in private. Sancho ordered the chamber to be cleared, the ma-
jordomo and the carver only remaining; so the doctor and the others with-
drew, and then the secretary read the letter, which was as follows:
It has come to my knowledge, Senor Don Sancho Panza, that certain ene-
mies of mine and of the island are about to make a furious attack upon it
some night, I know not when. It behoves you to be on the alert and keep
watch, that they surprise you not. I also know by trustworthy spies that four
persons have entered the town in disguise in order to take your life, because
they stand in dread of your great capacity; keep your eyes open and take
heed who approaches you to address you, and eat nothing that is presented
to you. I will take care to send you aid if you find yourself in difficulty, but
in all things you will act as may be expected of your judgment. From this
place, the Sixteenth of August, at four in the morning.
Your friend,
THE DUKE
Sancho was astonished, and those who stood by made believe to be so
too, and turning to the majordomo he said to him, “What we have got to do
first, and it must be done at once, is to put Doctor Recio in the lock-up; for
if anyone wants to kill me it is he, and by a slow death and the worst of all,
which is hunger.”
“Likewise,” said the carver, “it is my opinion your worship should not eat
anything that is on this table, for the whole was a present from some nuns;
and as they say, ‘behind the cross there’s the devil.'”
“I don’t deny it,” said Sancho; “so for the present give me a piece of
bread and four pounds or so of grapes; no poison can come in them; for the
fact is I can’t go on without eating; and if we are to be prepared for these
battles that are threatening us we must be well provisioned; for it is the
tripes that carry the heart and not the heart the tripes. And you, secretary,
answer my lord the duke and tell him that all his commands shall be obeyed
to the letter, as he directs; and say from me to my lady the duchess that I
kiss her hands, and that I beg of her not to forget to send my letter and bun-
dle to my wife Teresa Panza by a messenger; and I will take it as a great
favour and will not fail to serve her in all that may lie within my power; and
as you are about it you may enclose a kiss of the hand to my master Don
Quixote that he may see I am grateful bread; and as a good secretary and a
good Biscayan you may add whatever you like and whatever will come in
best; and now take away this cloth and give me something to eat, and I’ll be
ready to meet all the spies and assassins and enchanters that may come
against me or my island.”
At this instant a page entered saying, “Here is a farmer on business, who
wants to speak to your lordship on a matter of great importance, he says.”
“It’s very odd,” said Sancho, “the ways of these men on business; is it
possible they can be such fools as not to see that an hour like this is no hour
for coming on business? We who govern and we who are judges—are we
not men of flesh and blood, and are we not to be allowed the time required
for taking rest, unless they’d have us made of marble? By God and on my
conscience, if the government remains in my hands (which I have a notion
it won’t), I’ll bring more than one man on business to order. However, tell
this good man to come in; but take care first of all that he is not some spy or
one of my assassins.”
“No, my lord,” said the page, “for he looks like a simple fellow, and ei-
ther I know very little or he is as good as good bread.”
“There is nothing to be afraid of,” said the majordomo, “for we are all
here.”
“Would it be possible, carver,” said Sancho, “now that Doctor Pedro Re-
cio is not here, to let me eat something solid and substantial, if it were even
a piece of bread and an onion?”
“To-night at supper,” said the carver, “the shortcomings of the dinner
shall be made good, and your lordship shall be fully contented.”
“God grant it,” said Sancho.
The farmer now came in, a well-favoured man that one might see a thou-
sand leagues off was an honest fellow and a good soul. The first thing he
said was, “Which is the lord governor here?”
“Which should it be,” said the secretary, “but he who is seated in the
chair?”
“Then I humble myself before him,” said the farmer; and going on his
knees he asked for his hand, to kiss it. Sancho refused it, and bade him
stand up and say what he wanted. The farmer obeyed, and then said, “I am a
farmer, senor, a native of Miguelturra, a village two leagues from Ciudad
Real.”
“Another Tirteafuera!” said Sancho; “say on, brother; I know Miguelturra
very well I can tell you, for it’s not very far from my own town.”
“The case is this, senor,” continued the farmer, “that by God’s mercy I am
married with the leave and licence of the holy Roman Catholic Church; I
have two sons, students, and the younger is studying to become bachelor,
and the elder to be licentiate; I am a widower, for my wife died, or more
properly speaking, a bad doctor killed her on my hands, giving her a purge
when she was with child; and if it had pleased God that the child had been
born, and was a boy, I would have put him to study for doctor, that he might
not envy his brothers the bachelor and the licentiate.”
“So that if your wife had not died, or had not been killed, you would not
now be a widower,” said Sancho.
“No, senor, certainly not,” said the farmer.
“We’ve got that much settled,” said Sancho; “get on, brother, for it’s more
bed-time than business-time.”
“Well then,” said the farmer, “this son of mine who is going to be a bach-
elor, fell in love in the said town with a damsel called Clara Perlerina,
daughter of Andres Perlerino, a very rich farmer; and this name of Perler-
ines does not come to them by ancestry or descent, but because all the fami-
ly are paralytics, and for a better name they call them Perlerines; though to
tell the truth the damsel is as fair as an Oriental pearl, and like a flower of
the field, if you look at her on the right side; on the left not so much, for on
that side she wants an eye that she lost by small-pox; and though her face is
thickly and deeply pitted, those who love her say they are not pits that are
there, but the graves where the hearts of her lovers are buried. She is so
cleanly that not to soil her face she carries her nose turned up, as they say,
so that one would fancy it was running away from her mouth; and with all
this she looks extremely well, for she has a wide mouth; and but for wanti-
ng ten or a dozen teeth and grinders she might compare and compete with
the comeliest. Of her lips I say nothing, for they are so fine and thin that, if
lips might be reeled, one might make a skein of them; but being of a differ-
ent colour from ordinary lips they are wonderful, for they are mottled, blue,
green, and purple—let my lord the governor pardon me for painting so
minutely the charms of her who some time or other will be my daughter; for
I love her, and I don’t find her amiss.”
“Paint what you will,” said Sancho; “I enjoy your painting, and if I had
dined there could be no dessert more to my taste than your portrait.”
“That I have still to furnish,” said the farmer; “but a time will come when
we may be able if we are not now; and I can tell you, senor, if I could paint
her gracefulness and her tall figure, it would astonish you; but that is impos-
sible because she is bent double with her knees up to her mouth; but for all
that it is easy to see that if she could stand up she’d knock her head against
the ceiling; and she would have given her hand to my bachelor ere this, only
that she can’t stretch it out, for it’s contracted; but still one can see its ele-
gance and fine make by its long furrowed nails.”
“That will do, brother,” said Sancho; “consider you have painted her from
head to foot; what is it you want now? Come to the point without all this
beating about the bush, and all these scraps and additions.”
“I want your worship, senor,” said the farmer, “to do me the favour of
giving me a letter of recommendation to the girl’s father, begging him to be
so good as to let this marriage take place, as we are not ill-matched either in
the gifts of fortune or of nature; for to tell the truth, senor governor, my son
is possessed of a devil, and there is not a day but the evil spirits torment him
three or four times; and from having once fallen into the fire, he has his face
puckered up like a piece of parchment, and his eyes watery and always run-
ning; but he has the disposition of an angel, and if it was not for belabour-
ing and pummelling himself he’d be a saint.”
“Is there anything else you want, good man?” said Sancho.
“There’s another thing I’d like,” said the farmer, “but I’m afraid to men-
tion it; however, out it must; for after all I can’t let it be rotting in my breast,
come what may. I mean, senor, that I’d like your worship to give me three
hundred or six hundred ducats as a help to my bachelor’s portion, to help
him in setting up house; for they must, in short, live by themselves, without
being subject to the interferences of their fathers-in-law.”
“Just see if there’s anything else you’d like,” said Sancho, “and don’t hold
back from mentioning it out of bashfulness or modesty.”
“No, indeed there is not,” said the farmer.
The moment he said this the governor started to his feet, and seizing the
chair he had been sitting on exclaimed, “By all that’s good, you ill-bred,
boorish Don Bumpkin, if you don’t get out of this at once and hide yourself
from my sight, I’ll lay your head open with this chair. You whoreson rascal,
you devil’s own painter, and is it at this hour you come to ask me for six
hundred ducats! How should I have them, you stinking brute? And why
should I give them to you if I had them, you knave and blockhead? What
have I to do with Miguelturra or the whole family of the Perlerines? Get out
I say, or by the life of my lord the duke I’ll do as I said. You’re not from
Miguelturra, but some knave sent here from hell to tempt me. Why, you vil-
lain, I have not yet had the government half a day, and you want me to have
six hundred ducats already!”
The carver made signs to the farmer to leave the room, which he did with
his head down, and to all appearance in terror lest the governor should carry
his threats into effect, for the rogue knew very well how to play his part.
But let us leave Sancho in his wrath, and peace be with them all; and let
us return to Don Quixote, whom we left with his face bandaged and doc-
tored after the cat wounds, of which he was not cured for eight days; and on
one of these there befell him what Cide Hamete promises to relate with that
exactitude and truth with which he is wont to set forth everything connected
with this great history, however minute it may be.
