A Cervantes Fragment To Lift The Mind Out Of The Grimy Matrix

It Did Me Good To Type Something Written in 1605

“Even so, I want you to know, brother Sancho,” replied Don Quixote, “that there is no memory that time does not erase, no pain not ended by death.”

“Well, what misfortune can be greater,” replied Panza, “than waiting for time to end it and death to erase it? If this misfortune of ours was the kind that could be cured with a couple of poultices, it wouldn’t be so bad, but I can see that all the poultices in a hospital won’t be enough to set us straight again.”

“Stop that now and find strength in weakness, Sancho,” Don Quixote responded, “and I shall do the same, and let us see how Rocinante is, because it seems to me the poor animal may have gotten the worst of this misfortune.”

“There’s no reason to be surprised at that,” Sancho responded, “since he’s such a good knight errant; what does surprise me is that my donkey walked away without any costs while we were left without any ribs.” (1)

“Fortune always leaves a door open in adversity so that it can be remedied,” said Don Quixote. “I say this because the beast can make up for the lack of Rocinante and carry me from here to some castle whereby wounds may be cured. Further, I shall not consider such a mount a dishonor, because I remember reading that when Silenus, the good old tutor and teacher of the merry god of laughter, (2) entered the city of one hundred gates, he rode very happily mounted on a beautiful jackass.”

“It may be true that he rose mounted, as your grace says,” Sancho responded, “but there’s a big difference between riding mounted and riding slung across the animal’s back like a sack of trash.”

To which Don Quixote replied:

“The wounds received in battles bestow honor, they do not take it away; and so, Panza my friend, do not answer me any further, but as I have already told you, stand the best you can and put me any way you choose on the back of your donkey, and let us leave before night falls upon us in this deserted place.”

—Don Quixote,

Miguel De Cervantes

Translation by Edith Grossman

1. The humor here stems from wordplay based on costas (“costs”) and “costillos” (“ribs).

2. The “merry god” is Bacchus.