'We know now that thou art poor,' said he, 'for we have taken
all thou hadst. And as it is the religion of the Ingleses,
founded on the practice of their celebrated saint, Robino
Hoodo, to levy funds from the rich for the benefit of the
needy, hold out thy sombero, and we will bestow a trifle upon
thee.'
So saying he poured back the plunder; to which was added, to
the astonishment of the receiver, some supplementary pieces
that nearly equalled the original sum.
CHAPTER XXXIV
BEFORE setting out from Seville we had had our Foreign Office
passports duly VISED. Our profession was given as that of
travelling artists, and the VISE included the permission to
carry arms. More than once the sight of our pistols caused
us to be stopped by the CARABINEROS. On one occasion these
road-guards disputed the wording of the VISE. They protested
that 'armas' meant 'escopetas,' not pistols, which were
forbidden. Cayley indignantly retorted, 'Nothing is
forbidden to Englishmen. Besides, it is specified in our
passports that we are 'personas de toda confianza,' which
checkmated them.
We both sketched, and passed ourselves off as 'retratistas'
(portrait painters), and did a small business in this way -
rather in the shape of caricatures, I fear, but which gave
much satisfaction. We charged one peseta (seven-pence), or
two, a head, according to the means of the sitter. The
fiction that we were earning our bread wholesomely tended to
moderate the charge for it.
Passing through the land of Don Quixote's exploits, we
reverentially visited any known spot which these had rendered
famous. Amongst such was the VENTA of Quesada, from which,
or from Quixada, as some conjecture, the knight derived his
surname. It was here, attracted by its castellated style,
and by two 'ladies of pleasure' at its door - whose virginity
he at once offered to defend, that he spent the night of his
first sally. It was here that, in his shirt, he kept guard
till morning over the armour he had laid by the well. It was
here that, with his spear, he broke the head of the carrier
whom he took for another knight bent on the rape of the
virgin princesses committed to his charge. Here, too, it was
that the host of the VENTA dubbed him with the coveted
knighthood which qualified him for his noble deeds.
To Quesada we wended our way. We asked the Senor Huesped
whether he knew anything of the history of his VENTA. Was it
not very ancient?
'Oh no, it was quite modern. But on the site of it had stood
a fine VENTA which was burnt down at the time of the war.'
'An old building?'
'Yes, indeed! A COSA DE SIEMPRE - thing of always. Nothing,
was left of it now but that well, and the stone trough.'
These bore marks of antiquity, and were doubtless as the
gallant knight had left them. Curiously, too, there were
remains of an outhouse with a crenellated parapet, suggestive
enough of a castle.
From Quesada we rode to Argamasilla del Alba, where Cervantes
was imprisoned, and where the First Part of Don Quixote was
written.
In his Life of Cervantes, Don Gregorio Mayano throws some
doubt upon this. Speaking of the attacks of his
contemporary, the 'Aragonian,' Don Gregorio writes (I give
Ozell's translation): 'As for this scandalous fellow's
saying that Cervantes wrote his First Part of "Don Quixote"
in a prison, and that that might make it so dull and
incorrect, Cervantes did not think fit to give any answer
concerning his being imprisoned, perhaps to avoid giving
offence to the ministers of justice; for certainly his
imprisonment must not have been ignominious, since Cervantes
himself voluntarily mentions it in his Preface to the First
Part of "Don Quixote."'
This reasoning, however, does not seem conclusive; for the
only reference to the subject in the preface is as follows:
'What could my sterile and uncultivated genius produce but
the history of a child, meagre, adust, and whimsical, full of
various wild imaginations never thought of before; like one
you may suppose born in a prison, where every inconvenience
keeps its residence, and every dismal sound its habitation?'
We took up our quarters in the little town at the 'Posada de
la Mina.' While our OLLA was being prepared; we asked the
hostess whether she had ever heard of the celebrated Don
Miguel de Cervantes, who had been imprisoned there? (I will
quote Cayley).
'No, Senores; I think I have heard of one Cervantes, but he
does not live here at present.'
'Do you know anything of Don Quixote?'
'Oh, yes. He was a great CABALLERO, who lived here some
years ago. His house is over the way, on the other side of
the PLAZA, with the arms over the door. The father of the
Alcalde is the oldest man in the PUEBLO; perhaps he may
remember him.'
We were amused at his hero's fame outliving that of the
author. But is it not so with others - the writers of the
Book of Job, of the Pentateuch, and perhaps, too, of the
'Iliad,' if not of the 'Odyssey'?
But, to let Cayley speak:
'While we were undressing to go to bed, three gentlemen were
announced and shown in. We begged them to be seated. . . .
We sat opposite on the ends of our respective beds to hear
what they might have to communicate. A venerable old man
opened the conference.
'"We have understood, gentlemen, that you have come hither
seeking for information respecting the famous Don Quixote,
and we have come to give you such information as we may; but,
perhaps you will understand me better if I speak in Latin."
'"We have learnt the Latin at our schools, but are more
accustomed to converse in Castilian; pray proceed."
'"I am the Medico of the place, an old man, as you see; and
what little I know has reached me by tradition.
