Wit and Wisdom of Don Quixote 51 – Saavedra · Library Across
Literature · Humor
Wit and Wisdom of Don Quixote 51Song of Altisidora
18
Literature · Humor
Wit and Wisdom of Don Quixote 51
Song of Altisidora
SaavedraEnglish
Stay, cruel knight,
Take not thy flight,
Nor spur thy battered jade;
Thy haste restrain,
Draw in the rein,
And hear a love-sick maid.
Why dost thou fly?
No snake am I,
That poison those I love.
Gentle I am
As any lamb,
And harmless as a dove.
Thy cruel scorn
Has left forlorn
A nymph whose charms may vie
With theirs who sport
In Cynthia's court,
Though Venus' self were by.
Since, fugitive knight, to no purpose I woo thee,
Barabbas's fate still pursue and undo thee!
Like ravenous kite
That takes its flight
Soon as't has stol'n a chicken,
Thou bear'st away
My heart, thy prey,
And leav'st me here to sicken.
Three night-caps, too,
And garters blue,
That did to legs belong
Smooth to the sight
As marble white,
And faith, almost as strong.
Two thousand groans,
As many moans,
And sighs enough to fire
Old Priam's town,
And burn it down,
Did it again aspire.
Since, fugitive knight, to no purpose I woo thee,
Barabbas's fate still pursue and undo thee!
May Sancho ne'er
His buttocks bare
Fly-flap, as is his duty;
And thou still want
To disenchant
Dulcinea's injured beauty.
May still transformed,
And still deformed,
Toboso's nymph remain,
In recompense
Of thy offence,
Thy scorn and cold disdain.
When thou dost wield
Thy sword in field,
In combat, or in quarrel,
Ill-luck and harms
Attend thy arms,
Instead of fame and laurel.
Since, fugitive knight, to no purpose I woo thee,
Barabbas's fate still pursue and undo thee!
May thy disgrace
Fill every place,
Thy falsehood ne'er be hid,
But round the world
Be tossed and hurled,
From Seville to Madrid.
If, brisk and gay,
Thou sitt'st to play
At ombre or at chess,
May ne'er spadille
Attend thy will,
Nor luck thy movements bless.
Though thou with care
Thy corns dost pare,
May blood the penknife follow;
May thy gums rage,
And naught assuage
The pain of tooth that's hollow.
Since, fugitive knight, to no purpose I woo thee,
Barabbas's fate still pursue and undo thee!
Liberty is one of the most precious gifts which Heaven hath bestowed on man, exceeding all the treasures which earth encloses, or which ocean hides; and for this blessing, as well as for honor, we may and ought to venture life itself. On the other hand, captivity and restraint are the greatest evils that human nature can endure. I make this observation, Sancho, because thou hast seen the delicacies and the plenty with which we were entertained in that castle; yet, in the midst of those savory banquets and ice-cooled potations, I thought myself confined within the very straits of famine, because I did not enjoy the treat with that liberty which I should have felt had it been my own.
Obligations incurred by benefits and favors received are fetters which hamper the free-born soul.
Happy is he to whom Heaven hath sent a morsel of bread, for which he is obliged to none but Heaven itself.
The man in wisdom must be old
Who knows in giving where to hold.
All times are not the same, nor equally fortunate; and those incidents which the vulgar call omens, though not founded on any natural reason, have, even by persons of sagacity, been held and deemed as fair and fortunate. One of these superstitious omen-mongers rises in the morning, goes abroad, chances to meet a friar belonging to the beatified St. Francis; and as if he had encountered a dragon in his way, runs back to his own house with fear and consternation. Another Foresight by accident scatters the salt upon the table, by which fear and melancholy are scattered through his heart; as if Nature was obliged to foretell future misfortunes by such trivial signs and tokens; whereas a prudent man and a good Christian will not so minutely scrutinize the purposes of Heaven. Scipio, chancing to fall in landing upon the coast of Afric, and perceiving that his soldiers looked upon this accident as a bad omen, he embraced the soil with seeming eagerness, saying, "Thou shalt not 'scape me, Afric, for I have thee safe in my arms."
Love has no respect of persons, and laughs at the admonitions of reason; like Death, he pursues his game both in the stately palaces of kings and the humble huts of shepherds. When he has got a soul fairly in his clutches, his first business is to deprive it of all shame and fear.
Beauty, they say, is the chief thing in love-matters.
"Hearken to me, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "there are two kinds of beauty,--the one of the mind, the other of the body. That of the mind shines forth in good sense and good conduct, in modesty, liberality, and courtesy; and all these qualities may be found in one who has no personal attractions; and when that species of beauty captivates, it produces a vehement and superior passion. I well know, Sancho, that I am not handsome, but I know also that I am not deformed; and a man of worth, if he be not hideous, may inspire love, provided he has those qualities of the mind which I have mentioned."
Of all the sins that men commit, though some say pride, in my opinion ingratitude is the worst. It is truly said that hell is full of the ungrateful. From that foul crime I have endeavored to abstain ever since I enjoyed the use of reason; and if I cannot return the good offices done me by equal benefits, I substitute my desire to repay them; and if this be not enough, I publish them: for he who proclaims the favors he has received would return them if he could. And generally the power of the receiver is unequal to that of the giver, like the bounty of Heaven, to which no man can make an equal return. But, though utterly unable to repay the unspeakable beneficence of God, gratitude affords an humble compensation suited to our limited powers.
Lay a bridge of silver for a flying enemy.
Let Martha die, so that she be well fed.
He that has skill should handle the quill.
There is no greater folly than to give way to despair.
Patience often falls to the ground when it is over-loaded with injuries.
Alexander the Great ventured to cut the Gordian knot, on the supposition that cutting would be as effectual as untying it, and, notwithstanding this violence, became sole master of all Asia.
"Be not concerned," said Roque, addressing himself to Don Quixote, "nor tax Fortune with unkindness. By thus stumbling, you may chance to stand more firmly than ever; for Heaven, by strange and circuitous ways, incomprehensible to men, is wont to raise the fallen and enrich the needy."
Oh, maddening sting of jealousy, how deadly thy effects!
Justice must needs be a good thing, for it is necessary even among thieves.
"Signor Roque," said he, "the beginning of a cure consists in the knowledge of the distemper and in the patient's willingness to take the medicines prescribed to him by his physician. You are sick; you know your malady, and God, our physician, is ready with medicines that, in time, will certainly effect a cure. Besides, sinners of good understanding are nearer to amendment than those who are devoid of it; and, as your superior sense is manifest be of good cheer and hope for your entire recovery. If in this desirable work you would take the shortest way and at once enter that of your salvation, come with me and I will teach you to be a knight-errant,--a profession, it is true, full of labors and disasters, but which, being placed to the account of penance, will not fail to lead you to honor and felicity."
The abbot must eat that sings for his meat.
Courtesy begets courtesy.
The jest that gives pain is no jest.
That pastime should not be indulged which tends to the detriment of a fellow-creature.
The fire is discovered by its own light; so is virtue by its own excellence.
No renown equals in splendor that which is acquired by the profession of arms.
Virtue demands our homage wherever it is found.
Women are commonly impatient and inquisitive.
By a man's actions may be seen the true disposition of his mind.
"Body of me," said Don Quixote, "what a progress you have made, signor, in the Tuscan language! I would venture a good wager that where the Tuscan says piace, you say, in Castilian, plaze; and where he says piu, you say mas; and su you translate by the word arriba; and giu by abaxo."
"I do so, most certainly," quoth the author, "for such are the corresponding words."
"And yet, I dare say, sir," quoth Don Quixote, "that you are scarcely known in the world,--but it is the fate of all ingenious men. What abilities are lost, what genius obscured, and what talents despised! Nevertheless, I cannot but think that translation from one language into another, unless it be from the noblest of all languages, Greek and Latin, is like presenting the back of a piece of tapestry, where, though the figures are seen, they are obscured by innumerable knots and ends of thread, very different from the smooth and agreeable texture of the proper face of the work; and to translate easy languages of a similar construction requires no more talent than transcribing one paper from another. But I would not hence infer that translating is not a laudable exercise; for a man may be worse and more unprofitably employed. Nor can my observation apply to the two celebrated translators, Doctor Christopher de Figueroa, in his 'Pastor Fido,' and Don John de Xaurigui, in his 'Aminta,' who, with singular felicity, have made it difficult to decide which is the translation and which is the original. But tell me, signor, is this book printed at your charge, or have you sold the copyright to some bookseller?"
"I print it, sir, on my own account," answered the author, "and expect a thousand ducats by this first impression of two thousand copies. At six reals each copy they will go off in a trice."
"'Tis mighty well," quoth Don Quixote, "though I fear you know but little of the tricks of booksellers, and the juggling there is amongst them. Take my word for it, you will find a burden of two thousand volumes upon your back no trifling matter, especially if the book be deficient in sprightliness."
"What, sir!" cried the author, "would you have me give my labor to a bookseller, who, if he paid me three maravedis for it, would think it abundant, and say I was favored? No, sir, fame is not my object: of that I am already secure. Profit is what I now seek, without which fame is nothing."
"Well, Heaven prosper you, sir!" said the knight, who, passing on, observed a man correcting a sheet of a book entitled "The Light of the Soul." On seeing the title, he said, "Books of this kind, numerous as they already are, ought still to be encouraged; for numerous are the benighted sinners that require to be enlightened." He went forward, and saw another book under the corrector's hand, and, on inquiring the title, they told him it was the second part of the ingenious gentleman Don Quixote de la Mancha, written by such a one, of Tordesillas.
"I know something of that book," quoth Don Quixote, "and, on my conscience, I thought it had been burnt long before now for its stupidity; but its Martinmas will come, as it does to every hog. Works of invention are only so far good as they come near to truth and probability; as general history is valuable in proportion as it is authentic."
Rashness is not valor; doubtful hopes ought to make men resolute, not rash.
There is a remedy for all things except death.
Between said and done
A long race may be run.
He whom Heaven favors may St. Peter bless.
They that give must take.
Where there are hooks, we do not always find bacon.
Good expectation is better than bad possession.
To-day for you, and to-morrow for me.
He that falls to-day may rise to-morrow.
Great hearts should be patient under misfortunes, as well as joyful when all goes well.
I have heard say, she they call Fortune is a drunken, freakish dame, and withal so blind that she does not see what she is about; neither whom she raises, nor whom she pulls down.
One thing I must tell thee, there is no such thing in the world as fortune; nor do the events which fall out, whether good or evil, proceed from chance, but from the particular appointment of Heaven,--and hence comes the usual saying, that every man is the maker of his own fortune.
The faults of the ass should not be laid on the pack-saddle.
When it rains let the shower fall upon my cloak.
"Observe, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "there is a great deal of difference between love and gratitude. It is very possible for a gentleman not to be in love; but, strictly speaking, it is impossible he should be ungrateful."
The sin will cease when the temptation is removed.
The heart will not grieve for what the eye doth not perceive.
What prayers can ne'er gain, a leap from a hedge may obtain.
Proverbs are short maxims of human wisdom, the result of experience and observation, and are the gifts of ancient sages; yet the proverb which is not aptly applied, instead of being wisdom, is stark nonsense.
It is the part of a good servant to sympathize with his master's pains.
"Methinks," quoth Sancho, "that a man cannot be suffering much when he can turn his brain to verse-making."
