Chapter XXV. In which is set down the adventure of the braying and the amusing one of the puppeteer, with the memorable divinations of the divining ape

Don Quixote’s bread would not bake, as the saying goes, until he had heard and learned the promised marvels of the man who was carrying the arms. He went to look for him where the innkeeper had told him he was, and found him, and told him that by all means he should tell him at once what he was to have told him later about what he had asked him on the road. The man answered:

“The tale of my marvels has to be taken more slowly, and not standing up. Let me finish seeing to my beast, your grace, my good sir, and I’ll tell you things that will amaze you.”

“Let that not stand in the way,” answered Don Quixote, “for I will help you with everything.”

And so he did, sifting the barley for him and cleaning out the manger, a humility that obliged the man to tell him willingly what he asked; and, sitting down on a stone bench, with Don Quixote beside him, and with the cousin, the page, Sancho Panza, and the innkeeper for senate and audience, he began to speak in this way:

“Your graces are to know that in a village that lies four and a half leagues from this inn it happened that one of its aldermen, through the scheming and trickery of a servant girl of his (and that is a long story), lost an ass, and though the said alderman made every effort he could to find it, it was not possible. Some fifteen days must have gone by, according to public voice and report, since the ass went missing, when, as the alderman who had lost it was standing in the square, another alderman of the same village said to him: ‘Give me a reward for good news, neighbor, for your donkey has turned up.’ ‘I promise you one, and a good one, neighbor,’ answered the other, ‘but let’s know where it has turned up.’ ‘On the mountain,’ answered the finder. ‘I saw it this morning, without a packsaddle or any harness at all, and so thin it was a pity to look at it. I tried to drive it ahead of me and bring it to you, but it has already grown so wild and shy that when I got near it, it ran away and went into the most hidden part of the mountain. If you want us both to go back and look for it, let me put this she-ass of mine in my house, and I’ll be back at once.’ ‘You’ll do me a great favor,’ said the owner of the donkey, ‘and I’ll try to pay you back in the same coin.’ With all these circumstances, and in the very way I am telling it, it is told by all those who are well informed of the truth of this affair. In short, the two aldermen, on foot and hand in hand, went off to the mountain, and, reaching the place and spot where they thought to find the ass, they did not find it, nor did it appear anywhere round about, however much they looked for it. Seeing, then, that it did not appear, the alderman who had seen it said to the other: ‘Look, neighbor, a scheme has come into my head by which we shall without any doubt be able to discover this animal, even if it’s hidden in the bowels of the earth, let alone the mountain; and it’s that I know how to bray marvelously; and if you know how a little, count the thing as done.’ ‘A little, you say, neighbor?’ said the other. ‘By God, I yield to nobody, not even to the asses themselves.’ ‘We shall see now,’ answered the second alderman, ‘because I have decided that you should go along one side of the mountain and I along the other, so that we go round it and cover all of it, and every so often you will bray and I will bray, and it can’t fail but the ass will hear us and answer us, if it’s on the mountain.’ To which the owner of the donkey answered: ‘I say, neighbor, the scheme is excellent and worthy of your great wit.’ And, the two of them parting as agreed, it so fell out that the two brayed at almost one and the same instant, and each, fooled by the other’s bray, came running to look for the other, thinking the donkey had turned up at last; and on seeing each other, the loser said: ‘Is it possible, neighbor, that it wasn’t my ass that brayed?’ ‘It wasn’t; it was me,’ answered the other. ‘Now I say,’ said the owner, ‘that between you and an ass, neighbor, there’s no difference whatever as far as braying goes, for never in my life have I seen or heard anything more lifelike.’ ‘Those praises and that high esteem,’ answered the one with the scheme, ‘suit and belong to you better than to me, neighbor, for by the God who made me, you can give two brays’ start to the greatest and most expert brayer in the world; because the sound you have is high, the holding of the note keeps due time and measure, the trills are many and quick, and, in short, I own myself beaten and yield you the palm and hand you the banner of this rare skill.’ ‘Now I say,’ answered the owner, ‘that I’ll hold and esteem myself the more from now on, and think I know something, since I have some gift; for though I thought I brayed well, I never knew I reached the height you speak of.’ ‘And I’ll say too now,’ answered the second, ‘that there are rare talents lost in the world, and that they are badly spent on those who don’t know how to make use of them.’ ‘Ours,’ answered the owner, ‘can’t serve us in anything except in cases like the one we have in hand, and even in this one, God grant they may be of some use to us.’ This said, they parted again and went back to their braying, and at every step they were deceived and came together again, until they agreed on a countersign: that, to know it was they and not the ass, they should bray twice, one bray after the other. With this, doubling their brays at every step, they went all round the mountain without the lost donkey answering, not even by signs. But how was the poor ill-fated creature to answer, when they found it in the most hidden part of the wood, eaten by wolves? And, on seeing it, its owner said: ‘I did wonder at its not answering, for if it hadn’t been dead, it would have brayed if it heard us, or it wouldn’t be an ass; but in exchange for having heard you bray with such grace, neighbor, I count the trouble I’ve taken in looking for it well spent, even though I’ve found it dead.’ ‘It’s in good hands, neighbor,’ answered the other, ‘for if the abbot sings well, the altar boy isn’t far behind.’ With this, disconsolate and hoarse, they went back to their village, where they told their friends, neighbors, and acquaintances all that had befallen them in the search for the ass, each one making much of the other’s grace in braying; all of which became known and spread through the neighboring villages. And the devil, who never sleeps, being fond of sowing and scattering squabbles and discord everywhere, raising little squalls in the wind and great chimeras out of nothing, arranged and brought it about that the people of the other villages, on seeing anyone from our village, would bray, as if throwing our aldermen’s braying in their faces. The boys took it up, which was the same as falling into the hands and mouths of all the demons in hell, and the braying went spreading from one village to another, so that the natives of the braying village are known and told apart as Blacks are told apart from whites; and the misfortune of this jest has gone so far that many times the mocked have marched out against the mockers, weapons in hand and in formed squadron, to give battle, and neither king nor rook, neither fear nor shame, has been able to remedy it. I believe that tomorrow or the day after the people of my village, who are the braying ones, are to take the field against another village two leagues from ours, which is one of those that persecute us most; and, so that we take the field well armed, I’ve bought the lances and halberds you saw. And these are the marvels I said I would tell you, and if they haven’t seemed marvels to you, I don’t know any others.”

And with this the good man brought his talk to an end; and just then there came in at the door of the inn a man dressed all in chamois, stockings, galligaskins, and doublet, who said in a loud voice:

“Señor Host, is there lodging? For here comes the divining ape and the puppet show of the freeing of Melisendra.”

“Body of me,” said the innkeeper, “here is Señor Master Pedro! A fine night is in store for us.”

I forgot to say that this Master Pedro wore a patch of green taffeta over his left eye and nearly half his cheek, a sign that all that side must have been ailing; and the innkeeper went on, saying:

“Welcome, your grace, Señor Master Pedro. Where are the ape and the puppet show, for I don’t see them?”

“They’re close by now,” answered the all-chamois man, “only I came on ahead to find out whether there was lodging.”

“I would take it from the Duke of Alba himself to give it to Señor Master Pedro,” answered the innkeeper. “Let the ape and the puppet show come, for there are people at the inn tonight who will pay to see it and the ape’s skills.”

“So be it,” answered the man with the patch, “for I’ll lower the price, and if I just cover my costs I’ll count myself well paid; and I’m going back to hurry along the cart in which the ape and the puppet show are coming.”

And then he went out of the inn again.

Don Quixote then asked the innkeeper what Master Pedro this was, and what puppet show and what ape he had with him. To which the innkeeper answered:

“This is a famous puppeteer, who for many days now has been going about this Mancha of Aragon showing a puppet show of Melisendra freed by the famous Don Gaiferos, which is one of the best and best-performed stories that have been seen in this kingdom for many years past. He also has with him an ape with the rarest skill ever seen among apes or imagined among men, because if they ask it something, it listens closely to what they ask and then jumps on its master’s shoulders and, putting its mouth to his ear, tells him the answer to what they asked, and Master Pedro then declares it; and it says much more about things past than about things to come; and though it does not always hit the mark in everything, in most things it does not miss, so that it makes us believe it has the devil in its body. He takes two reales for every question, if the ape answers; I mean, if the master answers for it after it has spoken in his ear; and so it is believed that this Master Pedro is very rich; and he is a man galante, as they say in Italy, and a bon compaño, a boon companion, and leads the best life in the world; he talks more than six men and drinks more than twelve, all at the expense of his tongue and his ape and his puppet show.”

At this Master Pedro came back, and in a cart came the puppet show and the ape, a big one with no tail, its hindquarters like felt, but not ill-favored in the face; and scarcely had Don Quixote seen it when he asked it:

“Tell me, your grace, Señor Diviner, qué peje pillamo, what fish are we catching? What is to become of us? And here are my two reales.”

And he ordered Sancho to give them to Master Pedro, who answered for the ape and said:

“Sir, this animal does not answer or give any account of things that are to come; of things past it knows something, and of present ones a little.”

“I swear,” said Sancho, “I wouldn’t give an ardite to be told what has happened to me! For who can know that better than I do myself? And for me to pay to be told what I know would be a great piece of folly; but since it knows present things, here are my two reales, and let his most monkeyish lordship tell me what my wife Teresa Panza is doing now and what she’s busy at.”

Master Pedro would not take the money, saying:

“I will not receive the reward in advance, before the service has gone before it.”

And, giving two taps with his right hand on his left shoulder, in one leap the ape was perched on it, and, putting its mouth to his ear, it chattered its teeth together very fast; and, having made this show for the space of a Credo, with another leap it was on the ground, and at once, in the greatest hurry, Master Pedro went and knelt before Don Quixote and, embracing his legs, said:

“These legs I embrace, just as if I were embracing the two pillars of Hercules, O illustrious reviver of the now forgotten knight-errantry! O never-duly-lauded knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, courage of the fainting, prop of those about to fall, arm of the fallen, staff and comfort of all the unfortunate!”

Don Quixote was dumbfounded, Sancho stupefied, the cousin in suspense, the page astonished, the man of the braying agape, the innkeeper confused, and, in short, all who heard the puppeteer’s words were amazed; and he went on, saying:

“And you, O good Sancho Panza, the best squire of the best knight in the world, rejoice, for your good wife Teresa is well, and at this hour she is dressing a pound of flax, and, for a further token, she has at her left side a jug with a broken lip that holds a good drop of wine, with which she cheers herself at her work.”

“That I can well believe,” answered Sancho, “for she’s a blessed soul, and if she weren’t jealous I wouldn’t trade her for the giantess Andandona, who, according to my master, was a very proper woman and a very worthy one; and my Teresa is one of those who don’t let themselves go short, even if it’s at their heirs’ expense.”

“Now I say,” said Don Quixote at this point, “that he who reads much and travels much sees much and knows much. I say this because what persuasion would have been enough to persuade me that there are apes in the world that divine, as I have now seen with my own eyes? For I am that very Don Quixote of La Mancha this good animal has spoken of, though it has gone on somewhat at length in my praises; but, however I may be, I give thanks to heaven, which endowed me with a gentle and compassionate spirit, always inclined to do good to all and harm to none.”

“If I had any money,” said the page, “I would ask the señor ape what is to happen to me on the journey I am making.”

To which Master Pedro, who by now had risen from Don Quixote’s feet, answered:

“I have already said that this little beast does not answer about things to come; for if it did answer, having no money would not matter, for, to serve Señor Don Quixote, here present, I would let every profit in the world go. And now, since I owe it to him, and to give him pleasure, I mean to set up my puppet show and give pleasure to everyone at the inn without any pay.”

Hearing this, the innkeeper, overjoyed, pointed out the place where the puppet show could be set up, which was done in a moment.

Don Quixote was not very pleased with the ape’s divinations, for it did not seem to him fitting that an ape should divine things, whether to come or past; and so, while Master Pedro was arranging the puppet show, Don Quixote withdrew with Sancho to a corner of the stable, where, without being heard by anyone, he said to him:

“Look, Sancho, I have considered this ape’s strange skill carefully, and by my reckoning I find that this Master Pedro, its master, must without doubt have made a compact, tacit or express, with the devil.”

“If the compost’s pressed down thick and it’s the devil’s,” said Sancho, “it must no doubt be very filthy compost; but what good is it to this Master Pedro to have such compost heaps?”

“You do not understand me, Sancho: I mean only that he must have made some agreement with the devil for him to put that skill into the ape, so that he can earn his bread with it, and after he is rich he will give him his soul, which is what this universal enemy is after. And what makes me believe this is seeing that the ape answers only about things past or present, and the devil’s knowledge can reach no further, for things to come he does not know except by conjecture, and not always then; for to God alone is it reserved to know the times and the moments, and for Him there is neither past nor future, for all is present. And this being so, as it is, it is clear that this ape speaks in the devil’s style; and I am amazed that they have not denounced it to the Holy Office and examined it and dragged out of it by the roots by whose power it divines; for it is certain that this ape is no astrologer, and neither its master nor it casts, or knows how to cast, those figures they call judicial, which are so much in fashion now in Spain that there is no little woman, nor page, nor old-shoe cobbler who does not presume to cast a figure as if it were a jack of cards picked up off the floor, spoiling with their lies and ignorance the marvelous truth of the science. I know of a lady who asked one of these figure casters whether a little lapdog she had would get with young and give birth, and how many pups it would have and of what color. To which the señor judicial astrologer, after casting the figure, answered that the little bitch would get with young and give birth to three little pups, one green, another crimson, and the other mottled, on condition that the said bitch be covered between eleven and twelve of the day or of the night, and that it be on a Monday or a Saturday; and what happened was that two days later the bitch died of overeating, and the señor caster was left with a name in the village as a most unerring judicial astrologer, as all or most casters are left.”

“For all that,” said Sancho, “I’d like your grace to tell Master Pedro to ask his ape whether what happened to your grace in the cave of Montesinos is true; for I hold for my part, begging your grace’s pardon, that it was all humbug and lies, or at least things dreamed.”

“All that might be,” answered Don Quixote, “but I will do what you advise, though I am bound to be left with a certain I-know-not-what of scruple.”

While they were at this, Master Pedro came to look for Don Quixote and tell him that the puppet show was now in order; would his grace come and see it, for it deserved it. Don Quixote told him what he had in mind, and asked him to have his ape say straightaway whether certain things that had happened to him in the cave of Montesinos had been dreamed or true; because it seemed to him that they had something of both. To which Master Pedro, without answering a word, brought back the ape and, setting it in front of Don Quixote and Sancho, said:

“Look, señor ape, this knight wants to know whether certain things that happened to him in a cave called the cave of Montesinos were false or true.”

And, giving it the usual signal, the ape climbed onto his left shoulder, and, seeming to speak in his ear, Master Pedro then said:

“The ape says that some of the things your grace saw, or went through, in the said cave are false, and some likely; and that this is what it knows, and nothing else, as to this question; and that if your grace wishes to know more, next Friday it will answer everything it is asked, for for the present its virtue has run out, and it will not come back to it until Friday, as it has said.”

“Didn’t I say so,” said Sancho, “that I couldn’t swallow it that everything your grace, my master, has said about the happenings in the cave was true, or even half of it?”

“Events will tell, Sancho,” answered Don Quixote, “for time, the discoverer of all things, leaves none that it does not bring out into the light of the sun, though it be hidden in the bosom of the earth. And, for now, let this be enough, and let us go and see good Master Pedro’s puppet show, for I take it there must be some novelty in it.”

“How, some?” answered Master Pedro. “Sixty thousand this puppet show of mine holds within it. I tell your grace, my lord Don Quixote, that it is one of the things most worth seeing that the world has today, and operibus credite, et non verbis (believe the works, and not the words); and let us set our hands to the work, for it is growing late and we have much to do and to say and to show.”

Don Quixote and Sancho obeyed him and came to where the puppet show was already set up and uncovered, lit all over with little wax candles that made it showy and resplendent. On arriving, Master Pedro got inside it, for he was the one who was to work the figures of the contrivance, and outside stood a boy, a servant of Master Pedro’s, to serve as interpreter and expounder of the mysteries of the puppet show; he had a little wand in his hand, with which he pointed to the figures as they came out.

All who were at the inn having taken their places, then, some of them standing, opposite the puppet show, and Don Quixote, Sancho, the page, and the cousin having been settled in the best seats, the interpreter began to say what he will hear and see who hears or sees the following chapter.