The history of the ever-renowned knight Don Quixote de la Mancha containing his many wonderful and admirable atchievements and adventures : with the pleasant humours of his trusty squire, Sancha Pancha : being very comical and diverting.

The History of Don Quixote, &c.

Chap. I. Shewing who Don Q • ixots was, and what made him to turn Knight-Errant; and also who Dulcinea del Toboso was, whom he chose for the Lady of his best Affections: How he was Dubb'd a Knight, and how he took an Inn for an Enchanted Castle, with other pleasant Adventures.

AMong other Persons of Reputation, whose Actions have gained an immortal Fame in the World, and that surprize with Wonder and Astonishment all that read the Relations of their extraordinary Atchievements, there is none more remarkable than Don Quixote, the Subject of this History, who was a Gentleman that liv'd in the ancient Village of the Mancha in Spain, a Man so extreamly given up to the reading of Romances, and such other Books as treated of Knight-Errantry; that at last he resolved to put it in practice himself, and make himself more Renowned than those Heroes he had read of in Romantick Legends; of whom he had so great an Opinion that he always spoke of 'em with the profoundest Reverence; and took it very ill to hear any one question the Truth of what had been recorded in their Praises: Yea, so great was his Credulity in these things, that he durst engage for the Veracity of of the History of Tom Thumb is self. It will not be very material to trouble the Reader with a long Bed-roll of his Ancestors, nor of those Mannors and Lordships which they left him; which I cou'd never understand to be very great; for to say truth, his Family was but so, so; yet he kept a working Servant to manage his Country Affairs, and also an old Woman, or Governant, as is usual in Spa • n, who had the care of Domestick concerns; besides these, there was in his Family a young Plump Girl, under twenty, who was his Sister's Daughter; nor must I forget that he had an old Horse, who never fail'd him in all his Noble Adventures; as I shall have occasion to mention hereafter. I will not be answerable for the Furniture of his Cellar and his Pantry, let it s ffice that his Hall was plentifully accommodated with Swords, Pikes, and Javelins, with Murrions, Back and Brest Pieces; which tho' by reason of disuse they were almost spoil'd with Rust and Cobwebs; yet this hinder'd not our Hero, when he came to shew the World the Prowess of his doughty Arm; for he furbished both Back and Breast, and took his Great Grandfather's Basket-hilted Sword, and Lance also: But the greatest thing wanting, was an Helmet, which all his store could not help him to; and yet his good Fortune brought him something that he made shift with in the room of it; and that was a Musty Murrion, of which his Niece sometimes upon occasion made a Chamber-pot; this he so furnished, that with the help of a Brass Potlid that he gave a workman to hammer a Beaver out of it, he made a very good shift with, rivetting, or rather clouting it together: This Don Quixote (for so is our New Knight-Errant to be distinguish'd) clapped on his Head, and finding it cover'd his Ears, he made no doubt he had now gotten Armour of Proof to secure his Noddle (for I cann't say his Brains) from the Swords of those Knights he meant to Encounter with, and the clubbs of those Giants he design'd to cut in Pieces; for you must know he had a mighty Antipathy against Giants, because of their barbarous Cruelty to courteous Knights, and distressed Ladies.

All things being now ready for his setting out, he call'd for his trusty Steed, that he might confer upon him a Name according to the custom of former times in such cases; that the poor Beast, as well as himself, might be immortaliz'd in History and perhaps be as fam'd as Bucephalus, Boyardo, or Belieca, of whom there is such advantagious Mention made in History. And that he might give him a significant Name, he call'd him Rozinante, which in the Spanish Language signifies a Horse of Carriage, or of Labour; which he having pronounched Emphatically, thought it sounded with a very good Grace. But being ready to mount, he happily bethought himself that the most material thing was yet wanting, and that was, a Lady so whose Shrine he might offer up all his Services: For to be a Knight Errant, without an adored Lady, that might reap the Advantage of of all his mighty Atchievements, wou'd look like a Pudding without Fat: For thus did our Knight expostula • e with hi • self: To what purpose shou'd I over throw some famous Knight-Errant to the Ground, or, conf • u • d s me mighty Giant at a stroke, that they may prostrate o • the Earth • mpl • re my Mercy, if I have got no Mistress who may receive the H • nour of my Services? and whom the trembi • g Wretches thus may supplicate: I am the Famous Giant Corculiambro, the lately dreaded Lord of Ma • indr • nia, whom the Victorious and ever-valiant Knight Don Quixote de la Mancha, has in one single Combat over-come; and by this brave unconquerable Worthy, am I enjoyn'd thus lowly on the Earth, to bow my self to you, as to the Soveraign Lady of his Heart, and to intreat you so to order and dispose of me as unto your Illustrious Ladyship shall seem most fit. This, thought our mighty Hero, wou'd be worth seeking out Adventures for. But now where he shou'd find a Mistress worth all this Toil he was to undertake, was an Herculean Labour: But his propiticus Stars at last brought to his thoughts a handsome Country Wench, whose Name was Allonso • orensa the Daughter of a Butcher, whom he believ'd (tho' he h • d never seen her) by the report of his own Plow-man, to be a celebrated Beauty; to her he was resolv'd to pay the most sincere and lasting of his Vows; only he thought her Name shou'd be new Vampt, that it might sound at least more like the Title of some mighty Princess; knowing the ingle of a Name his a great matter in't; and so he metamorphos'd it into Dulcinea del Tobosa, the latter part of it relating to the place of her Nativity: Thus chang'd, he fancy'd it to carry so Ha • monious a sound, he'd scarce have chang'd it for the Queen of Spain's. And therefore without seeing her, • or telling her of his design, he without any more • do, all things being now adjusted, set forward in the search of Adventures.

Scarce had Aorora usher'd in the Morning, but arm'd all Cap-apea, and mo • nted upon Rozinante, Don Quixote travell'd as his H • rse wou'd lead h • m, and had almost • orn out the Day, without encountring any thing of Notes and now the Shadow; of the Evening coming on, himself and Rozinante were equally fatigu'd; the journey being long, and the Weather very sultry: when lo, as h • s good Stars wou'd have it, he from a rising Ground beheld an Inn, which he mistaking for a Noble castle, kept either by some worthy K • ight, or else the Receptacle of some Giant, he repair'd thither out of hand; fancying the chimneys to be Pinacles of glistering silver, as being newly whitewash'd, according to the custom of the Country; that t • ey might be the easier seen by Travellers, especially when at some distance from them, and be an invitation to 'em to take up their Lodging there. Bu • coming nearer and perceiving no Draw-bridge, nor deep Ditch, as he expected, he gave a check to R • zinante, (who knew what the Place was better than his Master and therefore wou'd fain have been at it) to see if any Trumpet wou'd sound, to give warning of his coming; but nothing appearing but two Country Damsels, who had come thither on Pack-horses, it being an Inn at which the Carriers of Sevil took up their Stage, Rozinante pushing forward to go to the Stable, being almost famish'd, he ventur'd towards them; and taking these Rural Lasles for two charming Ladies, he accosted 'em in very obliging Lanuage, b •• a Swinheard blowing his Horn to call his Hogs to the Sty. Don Quixote gave a start, taking it for a Trumpet to give Notice of his Arrival: And while he was now grown big with the Expectation of some strange Event, the Master of the Inn came out, and seeing a Ma • armed in an uncouth manner at his Gate, he went to him, and desir'd to know the occasion of his coming: Don Quixote taking him for the Governour of the Castle, told him, after a Courteous Salute, who he was, and that he was come in q • est of Adventures: The Innkeeper (who was a cunning Knave) perceiving his blind side, welcom'd him to his Castle, as he term'd it, the better to humour him; He no sooner alighted, but he got Rozinante put in • o the Stable; when the two Damsels were were very officious to unarm him; which they did pretty readil • , till they came to take off his Beaver, which the Armourer in fitting it hrd thrust on so close, that they in va n Endeavour'd to pull it o •• , and so was fain to make a vertue of Necessity, and seeing it cou'd not be got off, be contented to make an odd sort of Figure with it on. But finding Knight-Errantry wou'd'nt do without victuals, he Enqui • 'd what was to be had in the Castle, fitting to accommodate a Person of his Quality? And being answer'd, That it was the Custom of the Place to feed on Trouts, he declar'd he lov'd 'em above all other Fish; bu tho' inste • d of Trouts, they brought him only poor Jack, and Bread almost as black as his Boots, with Water instead of what they call'd Champaing Wine, yet when he went to eat, he met with an odd sort of Obstacle to his Eating; for he cou'd not without great difficulty get at his Mouth; his Beaver standing in the way: In this Distress desiring some help, that his hungry Stomack might not be tantaliz'd when such Provision was before him, the two officious Damsels undertook to assist him, ramming in the poor Jack with a Pudding-stick, whilst the Tapster with a Funnel, putting the little end into his Mouth, poured the Water so fast in at the greater, that Don Quixote was forc'd to cry out, Hold, hold, Sir Knight, or I shall be over set. Whilst they were Employ'd in helping our Knight-Errant, in com • s a Sow-g • lder to see for Lodging, who blowing his Horn, Don Quixote believ'd it was only Musick playing to him while he was at Supper; being perswaded that the two Wenches were Ladies of great Quality, who where kept Prisoners there; and whom the Governour of the Castle being a Knight of great Humanity, treated according to their Quality.

Sup • er being End •• and the cloth drawn, Don Quixote was seiz'd with a very killing Consideration, which was, that the Honour of Knight hood had not yet been conferr'd upon him, for want of which he could not undertake any Noble Enterprize: In this deplorable condition, the only Remedy he had, was to implore the Governour of the Castle to dub him a Knight; declaring that without promising to do so, he wou'd not depart from the Castle; the cunning Host smil'd at this Proposal, hoping to make a Penny of him; and therefore readily promis'd him to do it in the morning; and that according to the Rules of Knighthood, he must this night, by way of Pennance watch his Armour in the Base-court: Don Quixote overjoy'd he shou'd be made a Knigh • , willingly condescends to the Pennance; and so his Armour was forthwith brought into the Court, and laid upon the Cistern where the Carriers were used to water their Horses; which he fancied to be an Altar, and so watch • d devoutly with his Lance in his Hand, calling on the Name of his Elected Lady Dulcinea del Toboso, to influence him with her powerful charms, that he might be able to do those things that were worthy of her. But whilst he was thus contemplating his Mistress, comes in a rude Carrier to water his Horses, who knowing nothing of the matter, removed the Armour, throwing it on the Ground, that he might the more readily come at the Cistern; and this he did, notwithstanding Don Quixote had forbid him, how hardy a Knight soever he were, to touch it on peril of his Life; which Affront of the Carrier's had so enraged him; that he lent him such a Blow on the Pate with the Truncheon end of his Lance, that he laid him sprawling on the Ground; and then took up the Armour and plac'd it on the Cistern again; which he had no sooner done, but another Carrier came and serv'd it as the former, on the same account, Don Quixote was so enraged at this second Affront, that without any more a do, lifting up his dead-doing Hand, he serv'd him like the other, so that he fell down with his Nose directly in his Composteriors. But some looking out of the Windows, and by the help of the Moon-light beholding these violent Efforts of our Knight Errant, cried out, Murther, which giving the Alarm to the whole Inn, all the Carriers came running in their Shirts to attack him; but the valiant Don Quixote being on his Guard, the stoutest of 'em durst not come near him; however, they paulted him at a Distance with such a Shower of Stones as had beat out his Brains, had not his Beaver serv'd instead of a Shield to defend him.

The Inn-keeper hearing of this accidental Skirmish, soon came and made all quiet, carrying in those that were hurt, which were only stunned, and not slain; which by some timely Applications were soon recovered. Whilst Don Quixote did not a little value himself, for the Execution he had done upon the Affront that had been offer'd him: The Inn-keeper, fearing some other Scuffle might happen, which might peradventure preve • t him from getting what Money our designed Knight had about him, was willing to expedite the Ceremony as much as possible; it being by this time break of Day, and so telling him the time to dub him a Knight was now come, Don Quixote was very well pleas'd, and kneeling down in a Puddle of Water, and swearing him upon an inverted half Peck, the Rules of the Order of Knighthood was read to him out of an old Account-Book; and then giving him two or three lusty Blows over the Shoulders, which almost made him in as bad a Condition as he had made the two Carriers, he pronounced these Words, I command you to rise up thrice most illustrious and noble Don Quixote, Knight of the Order of the Mancha. Which, notwithstandiny the Roughness of his three Blows, he did very contentedly, thanking his Host (whom he took for the Governour of the Castle) for that high Favour; and then came the Damsels to gird on his Sword and fasten his Spurs; which while they were doing, they pick'd his Pockets of his ten Duccatoons, having him not a Souss wherewith to bless himself: Which the Inn-keeper perceiving, hasten'd his Departure what he co • 'd. Onl • , a • every Knight has some particular Device, by which he is both known and call'd, so he willed Don Quixo • e to procure white Armour as soon as he could, that he might be call'd the Knight of The White Armour. This pleas'd our Hero, but because he knew not readily how to procure it, he desir'd he might stay till he could send and procure them; which being contrary to what the Inn-keeper design'd, • e proposed to chalk his Armour over, and so it wou • d pass well • nough for white: This was well accep • ed on, and as soon done; then mount • ng on Rozinante, and thanking the Governour of the Castle for all his Favours, he set Spurs to hi Horse, and rid away in search of his good Fortune; leaving the Wenches and their Host to make merry with the Money they had taken from him, and which he never mist.

Chap. II. Of the E • ploits • f Do • Quixote after his being Knighted; how his B • oks of Knight Errantry, were condemn'd to the Flam • s; and how he was made to b • lieve it vvas done by an Enchanter, &c.

DOn Quixote being novv made a Knight, and riding in search of Adventures, vvas surpriz'd with a doleful Cry made in an adjoyning Wood and believing it to be one under some great Distress, rid up to the Place directed by the Sound, but this vvas only a Lad ty'd to a Tree, vvhom his Master vvas correcting for some of his untovvard Pranks, that is to say for losing of his Sheep in the Forrest. Don Quixote seeing the severe Correction of the Master, immediately commanded him to desist, and set him at Liberty; which the Master instantly did; then having heard the Cause between 'em, gave Judgment on the Sufferer's side; making the Master promise to do according to his Award, and then left 'em; but Don Quixote being go • e, the Boy got nothing but a more unmerciful Whipping than he had b • fore.

This Adventure being over, Don Quixote in his riding on, happened u • on four Cross-Way • , and not knowing which to take, he very judiciousl • lest it to R • sinante, who very well for himself, took that which led to his Stable: but whe • her by any Natural Instinct, or that he smelt it out, I will not determine: But as well as Rosinante chose for him • elf, he chose but ill for his Master; for meeting with some Toledo Merchants and their Servants, Don Quixote took 'em for wandring Knights, and so resolv'd to stop their Passage till he had made 'em confess that Dulcinea del Tobosa was the most Peerless Creature in the World: The Men were surpriz'd at such a Piece of Madness, and desir'd to see this Peerless Lady's Picture, that they might the better give Judgment thereon: For, said one, in way of Derision, were she blind and crooked, we'd go near to believe it. Base Scoundrel • reply'd the furious Knight, she's neither blind nor crooked, but straighte than an Arrow: And I'll make you pay dearly for this Affront. He had no sooner spoke, but Rosinante, whom he had almost brought to 〈◊〉 without Victuals, stumbling in a Cart-rut, fell with his valiant-Master▪ who being press'd with his Armour, cou'd not rise so nimbly as to prevent one of their Servants from wresting his Lance out of his Hand, and beating him with it so unmercifully as splinter'd it in many Pieces Don Quixote all the while crying out of the Baseness of the Squire to beat him at an Advantage: The Fellow for all that left not off Trashing h • m till he was weary, and then left him. And being unable to help himself, there must have lain, had not an honest Farmer of Mancha come by and re-mounted him; conveying him also to his own House; where he equally surpriz'd 'em with his going away and returning. But Peter Perze, the Curate of Mancha being informed by Don Quixote's Niece of her Uncle's extravagant reading of Romance's, and then on a sudden of his starting up and falling a hewing and slashing of the Wooden Images in his Chamber, and calling 'em by Romantick Names; he was presently of Opinion, that the reading of those Romances was the Cause of all his mad Freaks, and therefore ought to be burn'd: 'Twas when they were just agoing to execute this sentence, that our unfortunate Knight, and Pedro the Farmer, were come to the Door, and joyfully receiv'd by the Plowman and the old Governant; but when they understood the unhappy Condition in which Don Quixot was found, and what Bangs and Bruises he had receiv'd from some rude People, they thought the most necessary Service they cou'd do him, was to get him to Bed, and give him some reviving Cordials; and indeed it was high time so to do; for the bad Usage he had met with, had so much debilitated him, that had they not taken him down as they did, he had fallen from his Horse, who wanted a Cordial almost as much as his Master. But having unarmed Don Quixot, and put him to Bed, and given him some Soveraign Restoratives, and put Rozinante into the Stable, and given him some Provender and fresh Litter, they left them both to take their Rest.

Don Quixote being safe, they resolved to proceed to the Execution of the Romances, and Books of Knight-Errantry; and having granted a Reprieve to some of the best of 'em, such as were written in the most accurate and modern Stile, and treated only of Vertuous Love and Honour; the rest were carried to the Place of Execution, and committed to the Flames: But O how dismal was that Sight! For there might you have seen the Brave King Arthur, with all the Knights of the Round Table scampering about till they were reduc'd to Ashes; Orlando Furiosa, grew stark mad in the Flames, and the Knight of the Burning Pestele blaz'd most terribly; the Giant Brandimort fell a roaring more dismally, than when he was overcome by Don Bellianis, and even Hercules was in a greater Heat then when he cleans'd the Augaean Stable. In brief, never was there a greater Destruction of Knight-Errants and Squires, Dwarfs, Giants, and Inchanters, than in this dismal Conflagration.

This Execution being done, they consulted how to impose upon Don Quixote and resolved to take away the Door of his Study, and make up the place with Bricks, and then to plaister it over, and whitewash it; which was done so cleverly that he knew not where to find it; they perswading him that Friston a notorious Inchanter had in his absence with a whole Shoal of Devils, carry'd away both his Study and Books, none knew whither. Don Quixot easily believ'd all this, well-knowing (as he said) that that damn'd Necromancer had always done whatever he cou'd to obstruct the Increase of his Renown; but he swore by the fair Hand of Dulcinea del Toboso that he wou'd e're long be reveng'd on him by finishing the Inchantment, and taking his Head off.

Chap. III. How Don Quixot resolv'd upon going once more a Knight-Erranting, to which End he chose Sancho Pancha for his Squire; with whom he goes out in search of Adventures, and Encounter'd with a Windmil in stead of a Giant; his bad Success therein; and of other remarkable Adventures.

IT was no small Trouble to Don Quixote, to lose his Library; for seeing now he could not consult with his Books about the Laws of Knight-Errantry, he was fain to have recourse to his own Memory; and from thence furnish'd himself the best he could: And recollecting himself, he found it always usual for Knight-Errants to have Squires to attend 'em; the want of which he look'd upon to be the principal Occasion of his late Misfortunes: Having resolv'd upon a Squire, the next thing was, who must be he? And he had no sooner put this Question to himself, but straight it came into his Mind, that there was a Fellow who was a near Neighbour of his, that had as little Wit, and as many Maggots almost as himself: This Man he pitch'd upon, as one worthy of the Honour of his Esquire; and going immediately to treat with him, upon our Hero's Promise to make him the Governour of an Island, as soon as he shou'd Conquer it, Sancho (or Simpleton rather) promis'd to attend him as his trusty Squire. The Agreement, thus made, Sancho Pancha, (for so was this Squire named) was order'd the next light Night to steal away from his Spouse and her Daughter, and to take along with him Dapple his Ass, and a Wallet to carry such Necessaries in as they shou'd have occasion for: And so to come to him behind his Palace, where he shou'd find him ready equipp'd for the intended Undertaking. But Don Quixote knowing Money to be the Sinews of War, was now resolv'd to be well provided for whatever adverse Fortune he should happen to encounter with; and to that end, turn'd one of his principal Mannors into ready Rhino; and then having stor'd himself with whatever he thought he might want; and the Squire waiting on him at the time prefix'd, they set forward unknown to any but themselves, and making the best of their Way, had got so far by that time the Morning Sun had gilded the Tops of the Mountains, that they were out of Fear of being pursued by those that would persvvade them to return.

And novv being come into a spacious Field, Don Quixote vvas resolv'd to open the Campaign vvith a very memorable Adventure: For discovering certain Windmils before him, he thus address'd himself to his Squire, I have now, Sancho, a just Occasion to exert my Valour against those common Enemies to Knight-Errantry, the Giants: f r look, said he, with what a w • cked Force they brandish their extended Arms, as if they'd even dare me to the Combat; but I shall soon make them repent their Folly, and enrich thee with their Spoils. To this, Sancho (who plainly savv they vvere nothing but Windmils) return'd this Ansvver, Master, You sadly mistake, or else your Eyes deceive you; for these Giants you think you see before you, are nothing else but Windmils. I tell thee, Fool, reply'd Don Quixote, vvith an Air of Anger, Thou want'st discerning Eyes; I kn • w they are Giants, and that I'll prove upon the Body of the foremost presently; and so couching his Lance, and spurring on Rozinante against the Windmil, the Sails being going, he stuck his Lance into the Bars of the Windmil, vvhich being fastened to the Hilt or Truncheon, and being fast lock'd in his Saddle, up went Horse and Man, a stiff Gale blowing; and being quite canted over, were thrown into a great Pond, which was well for our Knight-Errant, and Rozinante to •• for had they fallen on the Ground, they had been beaten to Pieces; y • t the Violence of the Fall plunged them so deep, that they had bo •• like to have been drowned; but the trusty Steed at length brough • out his Master, whilst Sancho keeping out of Harm's way, cou'd scarcely forbear laughing: But composing himself as well as he could, he ran to his Master, as soon as he got out of the Pond, congratulating his safe Deliverance; and then said, Didn't I tell you, Master, they were no Giants but Windmils? Hold your Tongue, says the Knight-Errant, I still affirm they are Giants; but by the Power of that Inchanter who robb'd me of my Books, they are turn'd into Windmils; but I will take an Opportunity e're l • ng to wreak my just Revenge upon 'em. This satisfied Sancho, and so they rid forwards, till such time as they came to a large and well-spread Oak, under which, alighting, they refreshed themselves with such Victuals as Sancho had furnish'd himself with, in his Wallet.

After having eaten their fill, they had scarce closed the Wallet, before they espied in a low Descent between two Hills, where the Way was very narrow, two Horsemen and at a little distance a Coach coming after them, and Horsemen, riding after it: See, said Don Quixot, what a worthy Adventure now offers itself to Immortalize my Name, for these Villians are carying some great Princess captive, who now implores my Aid for her Rescue: I saw her but now bold up her Hand to me to come and help her: But I command you Sancho, whatever Condition thou se • st me in, stir not a Foot to my A • d, for 'tis against th • Laws of Knight-Errantry. Indeed Sir, said Sancho, except it be to defend my own proper Person, I am not very forward to engage my self, for I have a natural Antipathy to Wounds and Bruises. By this time the two first Persons that rid before the Coach, were come up to 'em, and happened to be two Benedictine Monks on their Mules, with two Footboys running by 'em; but Don Quixote, imagining them to be Ravishers, (for he would by no means be perswaded to the contrary) rid up to 'em, and all to be Traytor'd 'em for laying violent Hands on a Princess makes no more ado, but runs against the foremost with his Lance, who slipt from his Mule, or else he had been kill'd; the other Monk seeing; his Fellow-Traveller's narrow escape, rid as fast as his Mule cou'd carry him, esteeming Don Quixote to be one desperately distracted. Don Quixote having thrown down the Monk, rid strait to the Coach to acquaint the Ladies with his Victory; in the mean time Sancho seeing the Monk down, made haste to rifle him, and take what he had, which he look'd upon to be lawful Plu ••• , but the two Lackeys falling upon him, gave him such an unexpected Drubbing, that he was hardly able to rise from the Ground, and then setting the Monk upon his Mule again, he rid as fast from Don Quixote, as if the Devil had drove him. — Don Quixote having told the Ladies in the Coach of the great Deliverance he had wrought for them, would by all means perswade 'em to go back to Tobosa, and there to acknowledge to Dulcinea by whose Hand they were delivered: But a Gentleman of B • skay riding behind the Coach, which was now stopp'd by Don Quixote, and hearing him talk of its going back again, rid up to him, and swore if he did not let the Coach pass on, he'd cut his Head off: Don Quixote was so enrag'd at this Affront, that he told him he'd make him know what 'twas to carry away a Princess, (wh • ch was all a Riddle to them in the Coach, who were neither Princesses nor Captives, but a Gentlewoman and her Attendants going to Sevil about urgent Business; and those that rid by, altogether Strangers to her, and therefore she desired him to let them pass on quietly.) This notwithstanding, the two Combatants engag'd, and that so sharply, that Don Quixote lost not only the left side of his Helmet, but of his Ear also, by the Gentleman's Sword, which so exasperated our Knight-Errant, that riding close up to his Adversary, who was but meanly mounted, he threw both Mule and Man to the Ground: But the Lady intreating for the Gentleman's Life, and promising he should go to Tobosa, and present himself to his Lady, Don Quixote was pacify'd, and so they parted.

After this Encounter, the Knight and his Squire rid on together, and the Wound the former had received in his Ear, troubling him, because they had not yet bought any Medicines, Sancho chew'd a little Cheese in his Mouth, and so apply'd it to the Part affected. And now Night approaching, and no Town nor Village being near, Sancho intreated his Master that he would take up his Quarters among some Goat-herds, who had pitched their Tents hard by, for Sancho had already smelt by their boiling Pots, that some good Victuals was to be had amongst them. The Knight hearkened to Sancho's Counsel; and one amongst them knowing Sancho, his Master and he were well entertain'd by them.

Chap. IV. Of a terrible Encounter between Don Quixote and his Squire on one part, and certain Yanguesian Carriers on the other, in Defence of R • zinante. Their strange Adventure in an Inn, and how Sancho was toss'd in a Blanket, &c.

DOn Quixote and his Squire having been well entertain'd by the Goat-heards, and told by them a Story of the fair Marcelia's inhabiting an unfrequented Forrest, our Knight resolved to go in quest of her, and offer her his Service: But searching through a vast Forrest till they both were weary, vvithout finding her, they at last came to a fair Meadovv, through vvhich there ran a curious Brook, upon the flovvry Banks vvhereof, he was resolved to rest himself; and therefore caused Sancho to unsaddle Rozinante, and take his Bridle off, that he might feed the better; Sancho did as he was bid, and sent his own Ass to keep him Company: But whilst the Squire and his Master were feeding upon what Provisions the Wallet afforded them; it seems Rozinante was more wanton than hungry; for seeing some Mares belonging to the Yanguesian Carriers, feeding in the same Meadows, with their Packs on, he was grown so frolicksome, that he fell a leaping first on one, and then on another; but the Mares having more mind to their Food, than to that kind of Sport, fell to kicking and winching at such a rate, that they threw their Packs off, which with the Fall burst in Pieces, and scatter'd their Goods up and down the Meadow, breaking and spoiling several of them. The Carriers who sat down to refresh themselves while their Cattel fed, being about twenty lusty Fellows in all, seeing what work Rozinante, had made amongst their Mares, got up presently, to revenge themselves on him, for the Injury they had receiv'd, and so be labour'd the

poor Beast, with their Pack-stayes, that they cool'd his Courage in an Instant, leaving him miserably sprawling on the Ground. This Cruelty exercis'd upon Rozinante, Don Quixote (being very tender of his Honour) look'd on as an Affront done to himself: And therefore calling Sancho to aid him, he resolv'd to chastize the Actors with a Severity suitable to their Crime. And so going up to them, after a few hard Words, he fell upon the foremost with Sword in Hand like a Tempest, wounded him, and laid him on the Ground; which the rest seeing, to prevent their being serv'd in the like manner, they made up to our Knight and Squire with their long Staves, which out-reach'd their Swords abundantly, and quickly laid them both flat upon the Ground; nor wou'd they shew them any Compassion, tho' they had them down, notwithstanding the piteous Cries of Sancho for Mercy; but drubb'd them so severely with their Cudgels, that they left 'em for dead; and therefore fearing to be question'd for the Murther, they made up their broken Packs as well as they could, and pursu'd their Journey with all imaginable haste, to prevent their being apprehended. After they had been gone some time, Don Quixote giving a heavy Groan or two, curs'd his unfortunate Stars, for exposing the most heroick Knight in the World to so indelible a Disgrace; and Sancho hearing his Master complaining, not to be behind hand with him, cry'd out, He had no left a whole Bone in his Skin; nor must Rozinante, the Author of this Skirmish be forgot, who lay tumbling and flouncing, but wasn't able to rise. Don Quixote perceiving what a shitten Case they were all three in, look'd upon it as his Wisdom to make the best of a bad Market, and began to comfort his Squire, telling him all this was brought upon him by the Malice of the Sage Freston, who had transform'd huge Giants with massy Iron Maces, into the Likeness of Carriers; and that those which they took to be Packs, were no les • than captiv'd Ladies. Sa • ch • , notwithstanding his al • ng Bones, 〈◊〉 much ado to fo • bear laughing at his Master's nonsensic • l Whimsies: And therefore 〈◊〉 his Master, that whether they wer • G •• nts or Devils, he knew 〈…〉 • e was sure of, that they had bastinado'd them in a lamentable manner; and that he believed that they were no other than plain Carriers. 'Tvvas not Don Quixote's Business novv to contend, and therefore he gave Sancho all the good Words he could think of, and told him that tho' Knight-Errant met vvith many Disasters at first, yet at last they over came all their Difficult • es, and arriv'd to the highest Preferment.

The cunning Sancho, vvho had pretty vvell sayed himself, by cravvling out of the Way on all f • ur, after he •• d as the first Blovv, and so made more Noise than he had receiv'd Hurt; began novv to have some Compassion for his Master, And so getting on his Legs, and staggering to him, consulted 〈◊〉 • s best to be done; in vvhich Consult it vvas resolved, That the Knight, vvho vvas not able to ride upright, should be laid a thvvart of Sancho's Ass, and transported to the next Inn, and Rozinante gently led, as being not capable of carrying his Master. Having in this Calf-like Posture travers'd the Field and got into a Road, in half a League's jogging on, they found an Inn; and being enter'd into it, and the People wondring at so st • ange a Spectacle, ask'd how the Gentleman came by thi • Misfortune? Sancho, who expected this Question, had a Lie ready at his Tongue's End • o answer it, and told them, that riding over a steep Mountain, his Horse leaping over a Rock, being frighted, sell two hundred Fathe •• with him into a deep Valley. This Lie, tho' the People did not altogether believe, yet they did not much question; hoping to get something by it. And so the Hostess with her Maid, took Don Qu • xote into a Closet; and stripping him naked, dawb'd him over with Yeast, and clapt brown Paper upon it; the lewd Wench all the while sniggering at the Wagging of his Bauble: Don Quixote acknowledg'd their Care, and the Ease he found by what they had apply'd to him. And now Night approaching, af •• r they had eaten some Sheeps-trotters for Supper, they were coducted to Bed, being had up to a Room where there was three Beds, one for Don Quixote, another for Sancho, and a third for a rough hewen Carrier, who us'd to lye at that Inn, and though the Lodging was very indifferent, they knew not where to get a better, and so were forc'd to make shift with it: Don Quixote being kept awake by the Anguish of his Bruises, seeing the Chamber-door open, and one coming towards him all in white, imagin'd it to be either the Lady of the Castle, or rather her Daughter, and that she was fallen in Love with him; but the truth of it was, it was the Maid of the House, who supposing all fast asleep, was stealing to the Carrier's Bed, according to her Agreement before made with him. Don Quixote full of Imagination, ca •• hes her fast by the Hand, and pulls her to his Bed-side, courting her in a Romantick Stile, while she strove to get loose, but was afraid to make a Noise, lest she shou'd be discover'd; in this Cond tion; the Carrier leap'd out of Bed to her Rescue, and without speaking, gave Don Quixote such a Blow o'th' Face with his Fist, that he made the Blood come, but keeping still his Hold, the Carrier got upon him, and almost pressed his Guts out; when the Bed being over-burden'd with his Weight, fell to the Ground; this caus'd the Innkeeper to leap out of his Bed in the next Room, and run to see what was the matter: The Wench being got loose, slipt into Sancho's Bed, and fearing to be found, cover'd herself over Head and Ears, lying as round as a Foot-ball; Sancho, tho' he was before fast asleep, yet the Bust •••• e made at her coming into Bed awaked him; who finding a round Dulc at his Back, thought it a Night-mare come to Hag-ride him, and lays upon her with his closed Fists, with all his Might; this so provoked the Wench, that not regarding her Shame, she gets upon her Knees, and falls upon him so severely, that he cries out Murther. This Cry alarm'd one of the Brotherhood, who make Vows to clear the Road of all Rogues and Thieves; who lodg'd in the House, and running into the Chamber, with his Staff of Office, and meeting forthwith the Inn-keeper, commanded him to deliver up himself to the Officers of Justice; but the Inn-keeper crying out, two Ostlers came in to help him, who so belabour'd the poor Knight of the Brotherhood, that he was glad to fly the Room, and leave his Staff of Authority broken behind him. In the mean time the Wench made shift to get to her Bed, and there feign'd herself as fast asleep, as if she had never been concern'd in the Matter. The Inn-keeper who had got out at a private Door, returned again with a Light, demanding what was the Occasion of the Uproar? There was none knew how to answer him, but Don Quixote, who lying in a miserable Pickle, begun a Tale of a Tub, telling him, That a fair Lady, who was a mighty Enchantress, bore that high Respect to his Worth and Renown, that she often paid him nightly Visits; and came that very Night to cure his Hurts: But an enchanted Moor, who had a furious Passion for her, for which she had chain'd him by her Magick, had broke his Chains that Night to follow her, being very jealous of the Favours she had shew'd to him; and so had done the Mischief, and made the Noise which had disturb'd the House. But Sancho quite spoil'd this Story, by telling them of a Wench in her Smock, that leap'd into his Bed, for he had felt her Tuquoque; which made the Inn-keeper give a better Guess at the matter; for he well enough knew the Wench's Lightness, and went half Snips in the Gain, and for that reason he seem'd to incline more to our Knight-Errant's Story, as being more for the Credit of his House.

Don Quixote and Sancho, not liking their Entertainment very well, got up early the next Morning, and being mounted, and ready to depart, the Inn-keeper catch'd hold of Don Quixote's Horse's Bridle, telling him he must pay for what he had before he went. But that being contrary to the Laws of Knight-Errantry, Don Quixote told him he was the most discourteous Governour of a Castle that he ever met with; having never had any demanded of him before; adding, That the Hazards that he went thro' for the Service of his Country, in ridding it of Giants and Monsters, was a sufficient Compensation for what he had where-ever he came. The Inn-keeper reply'd, That his House was no Castle, but an Inn to entertain Travellers, and that he car'd not a Rush for his Service or his Hazard. This rais'd our Knight's Back up to such a degree, that he immediately uncases his dead-doing Weapon, and crying out, Villain, let go my Bridle, or else both thou and all about thee shall fall a Sacrifice to my dire Revenge; And then lifting up his Sword to cleave his Head asunder, the Inn-keeper thought fit to start aside to avoid it, and thereupon our Hero rid out at the Gate mangre all their Opposition. But as Ill-luck would have it, left his Squire behind him, who they immediately shutting in, demanded the Money of him; but he solemnly averring that he had not so much as one single Doit, the Innkeeper resolv'd to have Satisfaction of him another way; and immediately ordering his Maid to fetch a large Blanket, and calling all that were in the Inn about him, poor Sancho was presently pull'd from his Ass and thrown into it, being held up hollow; and then tossing him up aloft, receiv'd him again, sprawling like a

Toad on a Washing-block; often holding the Blanket so low, that his very Rump saluted the Pavement; which put them into such a Laughter, that they neither minded his crying out for Mercy, nor regarded his threatning them with his Master's Revenge; who had the Mortification to see him, without being able to help him. — When they had had their full Satisfaction of poor Sancho, they set him on his Ass again; who, in as bad a plight as he was, was glad he was got out of their Clutches, making so much haste to be gone, that he quite forgot to take his Wallet along with him, in which was all his Stores and Provisions. Being got to his Master, he complain'd grievously on him for abandoning him to so much Pain and Disgrace. His Master told him he thought he had followed him at the Heels; but finding he did not, he came back to take Revenge: But alas! what cou'd he do? He found Rozinante so inchanted, that he cou'd by no means force him to leap the Barrier, otherwise he swore by the bright Eyes of his Dulcinea, he'd not have left one Soul of 'em alive. This Protestation was some Satisfaction to his Squire, and so on they rid on in hopes of meeting with some more favourable Adventures.

Chap. V. How Don Quixote meeting a Company of Priests and Mourners, attending a Funeral, took 'em for a Company of Enchanters, and valiantly routed 'em. How Don Quixote over-threw a Barber, taking his brass Bason for Membrino's golden Helmet. And how he rescued several Gally-Slaves.

AS Don Quixote and His Squire rid along together, discoursing of the last unlucky Adventure, it began to grow dark, and neither Town nor Village, 〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉 nor so much as a House appeared; which made our Travellers a little uneasie, because being unacquainted with the Roads, they might in the dark fall into Pits, or other dangerous Places; but, what was yet worse, Sancho going about to answer the Calls of his craving Stomack, perceived he had left his Wallet behind him in the Inn, which was a most mortifying Disappointment; and which he durst not acquaint his Master with, lest he shoud send him back for it; and so the Remedy should be worse than the Disease. — But whilst Sancho was thinking what he should do, they perceiv'd at a distance a great number of Lights approaching nearer and nearer: Don Quixote at first View took 'em to be Ghosts, but as they drew nearer, perceiv'd it to be

a Bier with a dead Body lying thereon, which he concluded to be some valiant Knight whom they had Murthered, and were now going to the Mountains to conceal it. This Thought being fixt in his Head, he resolved to know the Truth of it; to which end, he rides up to 'em, and without speaking a Word goes to stop 'em; but they not minding him, went on their Way, which so irritated our Hero, that he run against the foremost and overthew both Man and Mule, by which the Man had his Leg broken, which made him cry out in a lamentable manner for Help, which did so terrifie the other, (which were Church-Men, and a few Friends of the Deceased, who were going to bury a Gentleman at Segovia, and seeing Sancho lurk behind, were afraid there were more in his Company) they fled about the Fields in Confusion, whilst in the interim, Don Quixote examin'd his Prisoner, who honestly told him the naked Truth of the Matter, which he confirm'd by kissing the Cross. Our triumphing Knight, satisfy'd with this Victory, call'd Sancho to help him from under his Mule, who had been more busily employed than his Master, in rifling of a Sumpter-Mule, where he met with a Wallet much better than that which he had lost, stuff'd with all sorts of good Provisions, which he very joyfully laded his Ass withal, and then assisted the fallen Stranger, and help'd him upon his Mule; tho' he wou'd first fain have rifled his Pockets, which Sancho said, was the lawful Plunder of the Field; but his Master positively forbid it, as having set him at Liberty, and pardon'd him. And so they left them to call the Company together, and bury the Dead where they design'd. Sancho riding off very jollily, as having good store of Provant along with him. So that now, though they cou'd not meet with an Inn, yet they were well enough contented to shelter themselves under some Trees in a Meadow, and there to refresh themselves till the Morning's Dawning.

In the Morning, as they were riding over a Corn-field, it began to rain, Don Quixote saw at a distance, a Man riding on an Ass, with something shining on his Head like Gold, which he would needs have to be the Helmet of Mambrino, which was so famous, that it was valu'd at the Price of a Kingdom. And telling what he thought to Sancho, they were now come so near him, that Sancho saw 'twas nothing but a Barber riding on an Ass, who, because of the Rain, cover'd his Head with a brass Bason. Don Quixote was affronted at Sancho's Bluntness, and told him, he should quickly see his Mistake; and running in a great Fury to meet the Man, cry'd out to him, Ho, Sir Alifumforon Montarbaton, thou Pagan Knight, deliver up to me the Helmet which you have injuriously stolen from the renowned Mambrino, while he slept; or this All conquering Arm of mine shall soon compel thee to it: The poor Barber (for such he was, and had been to trim a Man in the adjacent Village) hearing the threatning Language of a Man in Armour, and not knowing what he meant by it, quitted his Ass, and betook himself to his Heels, and dropping his Bason in the Fright, fled away to the Mountains for Security. Don Quixote immediately order'd Sancho to take the Bason up, and give it him; then taking it in his Hand, and looking earnestly on it. Ah, Sancho, said he, what an invaluable Jewel should I have had of this Helmet, had it but been what once it was; but to make it look like a Bason, they have cut off all the lower part. Why, what is it else but a Bason, said Sancho? A Bason, thou provoking Villain! reply'd Don Quixote, I tell thee, 'tis a part of the Helmet of the invincible Mambrino; and I will have it fitted up for my own Ʋse: Therefore put it up in thy Wallet, and say no more. I beseech you, said Sancho, let me offer one thing more to your Consideration, and that is, That since the Pannel of the Pagan Knight's Ass is better than mine, whether the Squire, by the Laws of Knight-Errantry, may not lawfully make an Exchange with him? The Case was very weighty, but after having maturely weigh'd it, Don Quixote allow'd it might be done. And so the Exchange being made, away they rid together, and they being gone, the poor Barber took his Ass, and rid home to tell the Town how he lost his Bason.

Don Quixote, to pass away the time as they rid along, read to his Squire a Lecture of Knight-Errantry, shewing by what Gradation a Knight-Errant mounted to the highest Pinnacle of Honour, and thereby became capable of advancing their Squires to the Government of Countries, which was what Sancho gap'd for, and what his Master had promis'd him, and therefore Sancho was very well pleas'd to hear there was any Likelihood of it. This Discourse was hardly over, when they perceived coming cross the High-way about a dozen lusty young Fellows chained altogether, the Chain being fasten'd to Iron Collars about their Necks, with four armed Men to guard them. This unusual Spectale moved our Compassionate Knight-Errant (whose Employment was to defend the Distressed) to spur on Rozinante, to come up with them; which he did in a little time, and fell to Examine whither those Men were driving them in such a miserable Condition? They told him to the Gallies, for several small Crimes, which they named particulerly, their Guard causing them to stop, in hopes that Don Quixote would have given them some Money. But he understanding they were compelled to go with 'em, resolutely order'd that they should be set at Liberty; which the Guards opposed, urging the King's Order to carry them on Board. That signifies nothing to me, said Don Quixote, my Business is to vindicate the Oppressed, aad I'll have it done. At this the Commissary that commanded 'em, fell a laughing, but he soon chang'd his Tune; for Don Quixote running furiously at him with his Lance, throw him down to the Ground, hurting him very much; and was preparing to charge the rest, who were coming so fiercely to attack him, that had not the Thieves broke their Chain, and come in to their Champion's Help, it had gone very hard with him; but they pelting them with their Irons, fled away, and left 'em at Liberty; Sancho, in the mean time, busied himself in plundering the Commissary, who lay wounded. Don Quixote proud of this Victory, call'd the new-deliver'd Slaves about him, and recounting in a large Oration, what mighty things he had done for them, commanded them in Acknowledgmet thereof, to repair instantly to Tobosa, and there on their Knees, with the broken Pieces of Chains in their Hands, acknowledge themselves to be redeem'd from a miserable Slavery, by the alone Prowess and matchless Arm of the ever-puissant and victorious Knight, Don Quixote of the Mancha. But they desir'd to be excus'd, alledging, that their Business now was, to skulk into the Woods and Mountains, that they may escape falling into the Hands of the Brotherhood, by whom they should be in Danger of being take again, should they travel the Roads. This Refusal of the Slaves to obey his Orders, rais'd up his Back to that degree, that he swore they should either obey him, or else he himself would drive them to the Gallies; by which they perceived him to have a soft place in his Head, and therefore by the Advice of their Ring-Leader, whose Name was Gives Passamount, they ran to a Heap of Stones, from whence they so pelted both our Knight and Squire, that they rid away with all the Speed they cou'd, to prevent having those little Brains they had being beaten out of their Heads.

Chap. VI. How Don Quixote met in the Woods with the fair Huntress, who she was, and how they carried Don Quixote to her Castle: With the strange Adventures of the Afflicted Matron; and of the Wooden Horse that was to carry Don Quixote and Sancho through the Air, &c.

SAncho being more sensible than his Master of the Danger they were in, by rescuing the condemned Gally-Slaves, perswaded Don Quixote to steer his Course thro' the Woods, to avoid the meeting with the Brotherhood, who wou'd shew 'em little Mercy; Don Quixote finding there was Reason in what Sancho said, took his Advice, but wou'd not own it was from any Principle of Fear, but meerly to comply with Sancho's Desires; and so they made off towards an adjacent Forrest, in which, they were no sooner entred, but they heard the Sound of many little Silver Bells, with the Yelping of Spaniels; which made Don Quixote curious to know the Meaning of it, and so sent Sancho to make some Discovery; who had scarce entred amongst the thick Trees, but returning back, cry'd out, O Master, here is Diana and all her Nymphs about her, drest in the costliest Robes of green, I ever saw; for by their Beauties, I'm sure they can be no other. Don Quixote at first thought his Man had seen a Vision of Fairies, that us'd to dance in Green, but drawing nearer, and hearing Humane Voices, he was resolv'd to venture in amongst them; and the first Object that saluted his Eyes, was a perfect Beauty sitting on a white Palfrey under the refreshing Shade of a well-spread Oak; attended by other Ladies, and guarded with several Huntsmen in their proper Habits: Don Quixote, who by this Sight was inspir'd with a thousand Whimsies, thought they were Captive Ladies with their Keepers, who had got leave to recreate themselves, and were come out of some Castle near at hand; and therefore addressing himself to her who appeared to be the Mistress, and bowing over his Saddle to her, Peerless Beauty, said he, the Mirror of exalted Perfection, know that I am Don Quixote de la Mancha, Knight of the Lyons, and the Avenger of the Injured; say therefore, if you have been injured, by undervaluing your Beauty, or restraining your Liberty, and I will be your Champion, and with Sword and Lance will sacrifice my Life to redress your Sufferings.

The Dutchess of Medina Sedonia (for it was no less a Person that Don Quixote had spoke to) having heard much of the Freaks of Don Quixote, was glad of this interview, intening to improve it for her Diversion; and being extreamly debonair and witty, acquainted our Knight-Errant that she was at Liberty, and none had injur'd her, those that were about her being her Servants; and then with an obliging Air, she told him, She knew not how to express her Joy for the good Fortune that had befallen her, in bringing her into the Company of a Knight of whom Fame had been so lavish, not only in Spain, but even in the remotest Regions of the Earth; telling him he was, thrice welcome to her; and immediately sent one of her Servants to give Notice to her Lord (who was also in the Forrest) what a renowned Knight was come to offer her his Service: The Duke, who had also heard abundance of comical Adventures of this Romantick Hero, delay'd not to joyn the Company, not doubting but by humouring our comical Knight-Errant, to find excellent Diversion in his Conversation; and so after some Complements passed between 'em, the Duke intreated him to do him the Honour to go with him to his Castle hard by, where he should be entertain'd according to his Worth and Quality. But there is one thing wanting, added the Duke, to compleat the Happiness of this Interview, and that is, that I see not your trusty Squire, Sancho Pancha, of whose great Faith and Fidelity I have heard much Commendations. The Duke had hardly made an end of speaking, but Sancho (who had all this while skulk'd behind a Tree) came boldly out, and making his Obeisance to the Duke and Dutchess, said, Behold, illustriouus Duke, that trusty Squire your Highness spoke of; and let my Master, if he can, deny that I have serv'd him faithfully, and under went many a Bastinado, to raise his Report up to that vast Height to which it is arriv'd: Which Sancho spake with such an Air of Assurance, that the Duke and Dutchess could not forbear but smile, and thought him to be a very comical Fellow.

In short, Don Quixote accepted of the Duke's Offer, and rode between him and his Dutchess to the Castle, where their numerous Servants, having had their Cue before given 'em, stood ready to receive them, crying, Long live the Noble Duke and Dutchess; Long live the Cream and Flower of all Chivalry, Don Quixote de la Mancha, and Sancho Pancha his trusty Squire: This so puff'd up our Knight-Errant, that he now became certain that he was a real Knight; for being entred the great Hall, the Trumpets and Hautboys sounded, and the great Guns thunder'd round the Castle; Silver Basons and Ewers to wash in, Tables richly spread, and all things according to the Grandeur of so great a Duke: The Servants carrying it with so great a Respect to Don Quixote as if he really had been what he fancy'd himself: And Sancho Pancha bless'd the Time that ever he come to be Don Quixote's Squire. After they had been thus nobly entertain'd for two or three Days, the Duke's Steward had provided a very comical Adventure for Don Quixote: And the Duke and the Dutchess being privy to it, had order'd Dinner to be got ready in a Summer-house, seated in the midst of a pleasant Garden; Dinner being scarce ended, came the Gard • ner, in Appearance much frighted, and almost out of Breath, relating what a dreadful Apparition had enter'd the Garden, being as tall as two ordinary Men, with a fearful long Beard. At this Don Quixote stood amaz'd, and Sancho trembled, and all the rest appear'd terrify'd: At last, up came the Goblin, with a Truncheon in his Hand, and a mighty Cymeter hanging by a Chain at his Girdle, his Beard three Foot long, and his Aspect very dreadful. Don Quixote seeing him, was preparing to combat him, thinking by such a Conquest to gain immortal Renown; when the Gigantick Form breath'd forth with a hoarse Voice like half-spent Thunder, these Words, High and Mighty Sirs, I am Squire to the Ʋnfortunate Countess Trifandi, stiied the Afflicted Matron; who being informed that the famous Knight Don Quixote was here, intreats his Assistance to dis-enchant her. She may come in, said the Duke, for here is that famous Knight you mentioned. Upon this entred the Afflicted Matron, and embraced Don Quixote's Knees, and said, I waited on Donna Maguncia the Canducian Queen in the farthest Orient, who committed to my Tuition the beautiful Princess Antonomosia, a Lady of great Beauty; and tho' she was courted by many great Princes, yet the Queen refus'd her Consent. Now in the Court was one Don Clani • o, a Musician, who demanded my Consent to steal away the Princess; to which I consented: The Queen no sooner knew he had convey'd her away, but she banish'd me the Court, and died with Grief. Ʋpon her Death, Don Clanixo, in the Right of his Princess, took Possession of the Kingdom. But she was no sooner buried, but Giant Melambruno, the deceased Queen's Cousin, to revenge Don Clanixo's Boldness, and Antonom •••• 's Folly, turn'd him into a Crocodil, and her into an Ape, fast'ning both to the Tomb of her Mother, that they can't be remov'd till the Inchantment's dissolv'd, which you only can do.

Don Quixote hereupon promis'd to end the Enchantment, by cutting off Malumbruno's Head; but asked how he should come at him, since there was so many vast Seas and Desarts between them? She rep • y'd, That her Squire had stollen the famous Pacolet's Wooden Horse, who by turning only a Pin in his Forehead, wou'd mount up with his Rider up into the Air, and be at the most distant Place in a Trice. And thereupon four Men brought in a Wooden Horse, whose Feet were fastned upon Wheels. Sancho seeing this strange Device,

refus'd to take such an airy Journey; but Don Quixote and the Duke and Dutchess over-perswaded him, with the Promise of an Island, on the finishing this Adventure. So that being agreed, they were both blind-folded to prevent their Heads from swimming in passing thro' so many Regions. Being fix'd upon the wooden Horse, there was some appointed to run him about upon a smooth sandy Walk; and blowing with a Pair Bellows in their Faces, I perceive, said Don Quixote, we are already in the Region where Ice and Snow are engender'd: I believe so, said Sancho, for 'tis plaguy cold. Then a great many Crackers were let off: Now, Sancho, said Don Quixote, hear how the Thunder roars, and fiery Bolts rattle and hiss in the Clouds. Then putting Fire to the Horse's Tail, a great Number of Crackers that were in his Belly, blew him up into the Air, which canted the two Horsemen into a Fountain: Upon which a doleful Cry was made, He flies, he dies by the valiant Hand of the Knight of Mancha. This Voice they heard as they were scrambling out of the Water. Being unhoodwink'd, they were congratulated for having finish'd the Adventure, and being desir'd to take some Rest after it; were convey'd to Bed, a sleepy Portion was given 'em, and they were remov'd into a Cart, and sent home to the Village of the Mancha; where Don Quixote soon after repented him of his Follies, and ended his Days.

FINIS.