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Thomas Manners, 1st Earl of Rutland (c. 1497 – 20 September 1543)
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Arthur Neuendorffer
Mar 13, 2019, 12:14:14 AM3/13/19
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<<Thomas Manners, 1st Earl of Rutland, 12th Baron de Ros of Helmsley (c. 1497 – 20 September 1543), KG, of Belvoir Castle, Rutland, was created Earl of Rutland by King Henry VIII in 1525.
Thomas was the son of Sir George Manners, 11th Baron de Ros (c. 1470 – 1513) by his wife Anne St Leger (1476–1526). His maternal grandparents were Sir Thomas St Leger (c. 1440–1483) and Anne of York (1439–1476), a daughter of Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York and Cecily Neville. She was thus an elder sister of Kings Edward IV (1461–1483) and of his brother and eventual successor, Richard III (1483–1485). Another of her brothers was Edmund, Earl of Rutland, and her nieces and nephews included Elizabeth of York, Duchess of Suffolk, Margaret of York and George Plantagenet, 1st Duke of Clarence. Elizabeth of York married Henry Tudor and was the mother of Henry VIII and grandmother of Elizabeth I.
On 22 June 1513 Thomas landed at Calais on the French expedition. In 1513 he became Baron Ros, probably aged 16 or 17, on his father's death and was summoned in 1515 to Parliament. He was at the Field of the Cloth of Gold in 1520 and at King Henry VIII's meeting with Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor afterwards. In December 1521 he became cupbearer to the king. In January 1522 he was made steward of Pickering, Yorkshire, and from April to October of the same year he held the appointment of Lord Warden of the East Marches, in which he was succeeded by Henry Percy, 6th Earl of Northumberland. He received the wardenship of Sherwood Forest on 12 July 1524, an office which afterwards became practically hereditary in his family. He was appointed a Knight of the Garter on 24 April 1525 and on 18 June 1525 he was made Earl of Rutland, a title originally freated for his great-grandfather Edward Plantagenet.
He was a great favourite of King Henry VIII and received many grants, including the keepership of Enfield Chase on 12 July 1526, and Belvoir Castle, which remains the chief seat of his family. On 11 October 1532 he landed with the king in France. He was at the coronation of Queen Anne Boleyn in 1533 and later took part in her trial. Rutland was actively engaged in meeting the Pilgrimage of Grace. He held a joint command with the Earls of Huntingdon and Shrewsbury and marched to Nottingham and thence to Newark, Southwell, and Doncaster against the northern rebels.
He was steward of many monasteries, and from his various ancestors had claims through their having founded certain of the houses. Hence at the Dissolution of the Monasteries he received numerous grants of monastic property. In Leicestershire he obtained Charley, Garradon, and by exchange, Croxton; in Yorkshire he received Beverley, Warter, and Rievaulx by exchange. Jointly with Robert Tyrwhit, he obtained Belvoir, Eagle, and Kyme in Lincolnshire, and in Yorkshire Nun Burnham.
When Anne of Cleves came to England to marry the king, Rutland was appointed her lord chamberlain and met her at Shooter's Hill on her approach to Greenwich Palace, after her unfortunate interview with the king at Rochester. In 1542 he became constable of Nottingham Castle. He went to the border again on 7 August 1542 as Warden of the Marches, but was recalled, in consequence of illness, in November of the same year. From Newark-on-Trent he wrote on 7 November to the Council of the North: "As Gode best knows, I ame in a poyur and febvll estat". He died on 20 September 1543.
Manners, about two months before receipt of his earldom, was nominated by Henry VIII a Knight of the Garter in 1525. His Garter stall plate of brass inlaid with coloured enamel, survives in St George's Chapel, Windsor Castle. It is inscribed: Thom(a)s lord roosse, Erle of rotteland. Above the escutcheon, circumscribed by the Garter, is the crest of Manners: A peacock in pride.
He married twice:
Firstly in about 1512 to Elizabeth Lovell. The marriage ended in 1513.
Secondly in about 1523 he married Eleanor Paston, daughter of Sir William Paston of Norfolk, by whom he had the following progeny:
Sons
Henry Manners, 2nd Earl of Rutland (1526–1563)
Sir John Manners (c. 1534–1611), of Haddon Hall, Derbyshire, husband of Dorothy Vernon, grandfather of John Manners, 8th Earl of Rutland and great-grandfather of John Manners, 1st Duke of Rutland and Francis Talbot, 11th Earl of Shrewsbury.
Sir Thomas Manners, grandfather of Thomas Vavasour, 1st Baronet.
Roger Manners, Esq., died unmarried
Oliver Manners, Esq.
Daughters
Gertrude Manners, who married George Talbot, 6th Earl of Shrewsbury and was the mother of Gilbert Talbot, 7th Earl of Shrewsbury and Edward Talbot, 8th Earl of Shrewsbury.
Anne Manners, who married Henry Neville, 5th Earl of Westmorland and was the mother of Charles Neville, 6th Earl of Westmorland.
Frances Manners, who married Henry Nevill, 6th Baron Bergavenny and was grandmother of Francis Fane, 1st Earl of Westmorland.
Katherine Manners, who married Sir Henry Capell, Sheriff of Essex.
Elizabeth Manners (c. 1530 – 8 August 1570), who married Sir John Savage of Rocksavage, whose mother was Elizabeth Somerset, daughter of Charles Somerset, 1st Earl of Worcester by his wife Elizabeth Herbert, 3rd Baroness Herbert. She was the grandmother of Thomas Savage, 1st Viscount Savage and the great-grandmother of John Savage, 1st Earl Rivers and was the great-great-grandmother of Charles Paulet, 1st Duke of Bolton.
Isabel Manners, died young.
He died on 20 September 1543 and was buried in Bottesford Church, Leicestershire. His body was embalmed with spices purchased in Nottingham and a surgeon encased it in wax. A plumber then encased it in a close fitting leaden shell.
His surviving alabaster chest tomb in the chancel of St Mary's Church, Bottesford, Leicestershire, was created by Richard Parker of Burton-on-Trent with John Lupton (rough mason) and his father, over a period of six days, the floor having been strengthened to the weight of the tomb. Thomas Richard Parker "the alabaster man" was paid £20 for the sculpture and the supervision of its positioning. Surviving accounts at Belvoir Castle record in considerable detail the arrangements for this work and the funeral. As well as commemorating the 1st Earl of Rutland and his wife this monument also marks the first of the future burials in the church of eight earls and four dukes over a period of almost 250 years.
The Earl's effigy is dressed in chain mail and full plate armour with a loose military tabard over which he wears the mantle of the Order of the Garter while on his left leg is the Garter itself. His head wears a basic form of coronet and rests on his tilt-heaume on top of which is the Manners crest of a peacock in pride on a Cap of Maintenance. The feet rest on a unicorn, from which the horn is now missing. The effigy of the countess is dressed in a gown and a short cape and wears an ermine trimmed mantle fastened by a cordon whose ends reach almost to her feet, under which is a griffon. Tasselled cushions support her head. The base of the tomb is decorated with corner pilasters, tasselled swags and "weeper" figures representing knights, ladies and others.>>
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The Second Part: The History of the Valorous &
Witty Knight-Errant Don Quixote of the Mancha
[The penultimate chapter of DQ by Thomas Shelton]
CHAPTER 73: Of the Presages and Forebodings which happened to Don Quixote at the Entrance into his Village, with other Adventures, which serve for Grace and Ornament unto this Famous History, and which give Credit unto it
CID HAMET reporteth that as they were come near unto the entrance into their village, Don Quixote perceived how in the commons thereof there were two young lads, who in great anger contested and disputed together. The one said to the other, ‘Pierrot, thou must not chafe or be angry at it; for as long as thou livest thou shalt never set thine eyes upon her.’ Which Don Quixote hearing, he began this speech unto Sancho: ‘Friend,’ said he, ‘dost not thou understand what yonder young lad saith, “So long as thou livest thou shalt never set eyes upon her”?’
‘And what imports,’ quoth Sancho, ‘what that young lad hath spoken?’ ‘What!’ replied Don Quixote; ‘seest thou not how that, applying the words unto mine intention, his meaning is that I shall never see my Dulcinea?’ Sancho was about to answer him, but he was hindered by an hare, which chased, crossed their way. She was eagerly pursued by divers greyhounds and huntsmen, so that, fearfully amazed, she squatted down between the feet of Dapple.
Sancho boldly took her up, and presented the same unto Don Quixote, who cried out aloud, “‘Malum signum, malum signum”; a hare runs away, greyhounds pursue her, and Dulcinea appears not.’
‘You are a *STRANGE* man,’ then quoth Sancho. ‘Let us i{M}agine th{A}t this ha{R}e is Dulc{I}nea, and t{He} greyhounds that pursue her the wicked enchanters that have transformed her into a country lass. She runs away, I take her up, and deliver her into your own hands; you hold her in your arms, you hug and make much of her. What ill-boding may this be, and what misfortune can be implied upon this?’
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In the meanwhile, the two young boys came near unto them to see the hare; and Sancho demanded of one of them the cause or ground of their brabbling controversy. Then he who had uttered the words, ‘So long as thou livest thou shalt never set eyes upon her,’ related unto Sancho how that he had taken from the other boy a little cage full of crickets, and that he never purposed to let him have it again. Then Sancho pulled out of his pocket a piece of six blanks, and gave it to the other boy for his cage, which he put into Don Quixote’s hands, saying thus unto him: ‘Behold, good sir, all these fond soothsayings and ill presages are dashed and overthrown, and have now nothing to do with our adventures, according to my understanding, although I be but a silly gull, no more than with the last year’s snow. And, if my memory fail me not, I think I have heard the curate of our village say that it fits not good Christians and wise folk to stand upon such foolish fopperies. It is not long since you told me so yourself, and gave me to understand that all such Christians as plodded and amused themselves upon auguries or divinations were very fools. And therefore let us no longer trouble ourselves with them, but let us go on, and enter into our village.’
There, whilst the hunters came in, they demanded to have their hare, and Don Quixote delivered the same unto them.
Then he and Sancho kept on their way; and at the entrance into the village, in a little meadow, they met with the curate and the bachelor *Carrasco*, who, with their beads in their hands, were saying their prayers.
It is to be understood that Sancho Panza had placed upon Dapple, and upon the fardel of their weapons, the jacket or gaberdine of boccasin, all painted over with fiery flames, which was upon him in the duke’s castle the night that Altisidora rose again from death to life; which jub or jacket served them instead of a carpet or sumpter-cloth. They had likewise placed upon the ass’s head the mitre whereof we have spoken before. It was the newest kind of transformation and the fittest decking or array that ever ass did put upon his head.
The curate and the bachelor knew them incontinently, and with wide-open arms ran towards them.
Don Quixote alighted presently, and very kindly embraced them. But the little children, who are as sharp-sighted as any lynx, having eyed the ass’s mitre, flocked suddenly about them to see the same, saying the one to the other, ‘Come, come, and run all you camarados, and you shall see Sancho Panza’s ass more brave and gallant than Mingo; and Don Quixote’s palfrey leaner, fainter, and more flaggy than it was the first day.’
Finally, being environed with many young children, and attended on by the curate and bachelor, they entered the village, and went directly unto Don Quixote’s house; at the door whereof they met with his maidservant, and with his niece, who had already heard the news of their coming.
Teresa Panza, the wife of Sancho, had likewise been advertised thereof. She ran all dishevelled and half naked to see her husband, leading her daughter Sanchica by the hand. But when she saw that he was not so richly attired as she imagined, and in that equipage a governor should be, she thus began to discourse with him: ‘My husband, after what fashion dost thou come home? Methinks thou comest on foot, and with toilsome travelling, all tired and fainthearted; thou rather barest the countenance of a miserable wretch than of a governor.
‘Hold thy peace, Teresa,’ quoth Sancho; ‘for oftentimes when there be boots, there be no spurs. Let us go unto our house, and there thou shalt hear wonders. So it is that I have money, which is of more consequence, and I have gotten it by mine own industry, without doing wrong to anybody.’
‘Why, then, you have money, my good husband?’ replied Tere{S}a; ‘that’s very well; it is no matter how {Y}ou came by it, be it by hook or crook; fo{R} after what [MANNER S]oever you have l{A}id hands on it you bring no new custo{M} into the world.’ Sanchica embraced her father, and asked him whether he had brought her anything; and that she had as earnestly looked for him as men do for dew in the month of May.
Thus his wife holding him by the one hand, and his daughter by the one side of his girdle, and with the other hand leading Dapple, they entered into their cottage, leaving Don Quixote in his own house, in the power of his niece and maid[SE]rvant, and in the company of the curate and the bachelor.
Don Quixote, wi[T]hout longer delay, at that very instant drew the bachelor and the curate aside, and in few words related his being defeated unto them, and the vow [W]hich he had been forced to make, not to go out of his village during the sp[A]ce of one whole year; how his purpose was fully to keep the same, without [TR]ansgressing it in one jot or atom ; since that by the rules of knight-errantry, and as he was a true knight-errant, he was strictly obliged to perform it; which was the reason that he had resolved, during the time of that year, to become a shepherd, and entertain himself among the deserts and solitary places of that country, where he might freely vent out and give scope unto his amorous passions by exercising himself in commendable and virtuous pastoral exercises; and now besought them, if they had no greater affairs in hand, and were not employed in matters of more importance, they would both be pleased to beco{M}e his companions {A}nd fellow-shephe{R}ds; for he would bu{Y S}tore of sheep, and get so sufficient a flock together as they might well take upon them the name of shepherds.
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[E/STEWAR/T] 59
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And in the meantime he gave them to understand that the chiefest point of this business was already effected; for he had already appointed them so proper and convenient names as if they had been cast in a mould.
The curate would needs know these names. Don Quixote told him that himself would be called the shepherd Quixotiz; the bachelor, the shepherd Carrascon; and the curate, the shepherd Curiambro; and as for Sancho Panza, he should be styled Panzino.
They were all astonished at Don Quixote’s new folly; nevertheless, that he might not another time go out of his village, and return to his knighthood’s and cavalier’s tricks, and therewithal supposing that in the space of this year he might be cured and recovered, they allowed of his design and new invention, and in that rural exercise offered to become his companions.
‘We shall lead a pleasant life,’ said *Samson Carrasco*, ‘since, as all the world knoweth, I am an excellent poet, and shall every hand-while be composing of pastoral ditties and eclogues, or else some verses of the court, as best shall agree to our purpose. Thus shall we entertain ourselves by the ways we shall pass and go. But, good sirs, the thing that is most necessary is that everyone make choice of the name of the shepherdess whom he intendeth to celebrate in his verses; and that there be no tree, how hard and knurry soever, but therein we shall write, carve, and engrave her name, even as amorous shepherds are accustomed to do.’
‘In good sooth, that will do passing well,’ quoth Don Quixote; ‘albeit I need not go far to find out the name of an imaginary shepherdess, since I have the never-matched or paralleled Dulcinea of Toboso, the glory of all these shores, the ornament of these meadows, the grace and comeliness of beauty, the cream and prime of all gracefulness, and, to be short, the subject on which the extremi{T}y of all commend{A}tions may right{L}y be conferred, h{O}w hyperbolical {S}oever it be.’
‘It is most true,’ said the curate; ‘but for us, we must seek out some barren shepherdesses, and at least, if they be not fit and proper for us, yet one way or other they may stead us, if not in the main, yet in the by.’
‘Although we have none,’ quoth *Samson Carrasco*, ‘yet will we give them those very names as we see in print, and wherewith the world is full. For we will call them Phillis, Amaryllis, Diana, Florinda, Galathea, and Belisarda. Since they are publicly to be sold in the open market-place, we may very well buy them, and lawfully appropriate them unto ourselves. If my mistress, or, to say better, my shepherdess, have to name Anna, I will celebrate her under the style of Anarda; if she be called Francis, I will call her Francina; and if she hight Lucie, her name shall be Lucinda; for all such names square and encounter. As for Sancho Panza, if he will be one of our fraternity, he may celebrate his wife Teresa Panza under the name of Teresaina.’
Don Quixote burst out a-laughing at the application of these names, whilst the curate did infinitely commend and extol his honourable resolution, and again offered to keep him company all the time that he could spare, having acquitted himself of the charge unto which he was bound.
With that they took leave of him, persuading and entreating him to have a care of his health, and endeavour to be merry.
So it happened that his niece and his maidservant heard all the speeches which they three had together; and when the bachelor and the curate were gone from him, they both came near unto Don Quixote, and thus his niece bespake him:
‘What means this, my lord, mine uncle? Now when we imagined that you would have continued in your own house, and there live a quiet, a reposed, and honourable life, you go about to cast yourself headlong into new labyrinths and troubles, with becoming a swain or shepherd? Verily, the corn is already over-hard to make oaten pipes of it.’
‘But how,’ quoth the maidservant, ‘can you endure and undergo in the open fields the scorching heat of summer and the cold and frost of winter nights, and hear the howlings of wolves without quaking for very fear? No, truly; for so much as that belongs only to such as are of a robust and [S]urly complex[I]on, of a hard an[D] rugged skin, a[N]d that from th[EI]r cradles are bred and inured to such a trade and occupation.
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If the worst come to the worst, it were better to be still a knight-errant than a shepherd. I beseech you, good my lord, follow my coun{S}el which I give y{O}u, not as being fu{L}l of wine and bre{A}d, but rather fas{T}ing, and as one that have fifty years upon my head. Abide still in your house, think on your domestic affairs, confess yourself often, serve God, do good unto the poor, and if any harm come to you of it, let me take it upon my soul.’
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‘Good wenches, hold your peace,’ replied Don Quixote; ‘for I know what I have to do. In the meanwhile, let me be had to bed. Methinks I am not very well; yet assure yourself that whether I be an errant knight or a shepherd, I will carefully provide for all that you may stand in need of, and you shall see the effects of it.’
The niece and the maidservant, who without doubt were two merry good wenches, laid him in his bed, and attended and looked so well unto him as they could not possibly have done better.>>
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Art Neuendorffer
<<Thomas Manners, 1st Earl of Rutland, 12th Baron de Ros of Helmsley (c. 1497 – 20 September 1543), KG, of Belvoir Castle, Rutland, was created Earl of Rutland by King Henry VIII in 1525.
Thomas was the son of Sir George Manners, 11th Baron de Ros (c. 1470 – 1513) by his wife Anne St Leger (1476–1526). His maternal grandparents were Sir Thomas St Leger (c. 1440–1483) and Anne of York (1439–1476), a daughter of Richard Plantagenet, 3rd Duke of York and Cecily Neville. She was thus an elder sister of Kings Edward IV (1461–1483) and of his brother and eventual successor, Richard III (1483–1485). Another of her brothers was Edmund, Earl of Rutland, and her nieces and nephews included Elizabeth of York, Duchess of Suffolk, Margaret of York and George Plantagenet, 1st Duke of Clarence. Elizabeth of York married Henry Tudor and was the mother of Henry VIII and grandmother of Elizabeth I.
On 22 June 1513 Thomas landed at Calais on the French expedition. In 1513 he became Baron Ros, probably aged 16 or 17, on his father's death and was summoned in 1515 to Parliament. He was at the Field of the Cloth of Gold in 1520 and at King Henry VIII's meeting with Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor afterwards. In December 1521 he became cupbearer to the king. In January 1522 he was made steward of Pickering, Yorkshire, and from April to October of the same year he held the appointment of Lord Warden of the East Marches, in which he was succeeded by Henry Percy, 6th Earl of Northumberland. He received the wardenship of Sherwood Forest on 12 July 1524, an office which afterwards became practically hereditary in his family. He was appointed a Knight of the Garter on 24 April 1525 and on 18 June 1525 he was made Earl of Rutland, a title originally freated for his great-grandfather Edward Plantagenet.
He was a great favourite of King Henry VIII and received many grants, including the keepership of Enfield Chase on 12 July 1526, and Belvoir Castle, which remains the chief seat of his family. On 11 October 1532 he landed with the king in France. He was at the coronation of Queen Anne Boleyn in 1533 and later took part in her trial. Rutland was actively engaged in meeting the Pilgrimage of Grace. He held a joint command with the Earls of Huntingdon and Shrewsbury and marched to Nottingham and thence to Newark, Southwell, and Doncaster against the northern rebels.
He was steward of many monasteries, and from his various ancestors had claims through their having founded certain of the houses. Hence at the Dissolution of the Monasteries he received numerous grants of monastic property. In Leicestershire he obtained Charley, Garradon, and by exchange, Croxton; in Yorkshire he received Beverley, Warter, and Rievaulx by exchange. Jointly with Robert Tyrwhit, he obtained Belvoir, Eagle, and Kyme in Lincolnshire, and in Yorkshire Nun Burnham.
When Anne of Cleves came to England to marry the king, Rutland was appointed her lord chamberlain and met her at Shooter's Hill on her approach to Greenwich Palace, after her unfortunate interview with the king at Rochester. In 1542 he became constable of Nottingham Castle. He went to the border again on 7 August 1542 as Warden of the Marches, but was recalled, in consequence of illness, in November of the same year. From Newark-on-Trent he wrote on 7 November to the Council of the North: "As Gode best knows, I ame in a poyur and febvll estat". He died on 20 September 1543.
Manners, about two months before receipt of his earldom, was nominated by Henry VIII a Knight of the Garter in 1525. His Garter stall plate of brass inlaid with coloured enamel, survives in St George's Chapel, Windsor Castle. It is inscribed: Thom(a)s lord roosse, Erle of rotteland. Above the escutcheon, circumscribed by the Garter, is the crest of Manners: A peacock in pride.
He married twice:
Firstly in about 1512 to Elizabeth Lovell. The marriage ended in 1513.
Secondly in about 1523 he married Eleanor Paston, daughter of Sir William Paston of Norfolk, by whom he had the following progeny:
Sons
Henry Manners, 2nd Earl of Rutland (1526–1563)
Sir John Manners (c. 1534–1611), of Haddon Hall, Derbyshire, husband of Dorothy Vernon, grandfather of John Manners, 8th Earl of Rutland and great-grandfather of John Manners, 1st Duke of Rutland and Francis Talbot, 11th Earl of Shrewsbury.
Sir Thomas Manners, grandfather of Thomas Vavasour, 1st Baronet.
Roger Manners, Esq., died unmarried
Oliver Manners, Esq.
Daughters
Gertrude Manners, who married George Talbot, 6th Earl of Shrewsbury and was the mother of Gilbert Talbot, 7th Earl of Shrewsbury and Edward Talbot, 8th Earl of Shrewsbury.
Anne Manners, who married Henry Neville, 5th Earl of Westmorland and was the mother of Charles Neville, 6th Earl of Westmorland.
Frances Manners, who married Henry Nevill, 6th Baron Bergavenny and was grandmother of Francis Fane, 1st Earl of Westmorland.
Katherine Manners, who married Sir Henry Capell, Sheriff of Essex.
Elizabeth Manners (c. 1530 – 8 August 1570), who married Sir John Savage of Rocksavage, whose mother was Elizabeth Somerset, daughter of Charles Somerset, 1st Earl of Worcester by his wife Elizabeth Herbert, 3rd Baroness Herbert. She was the grandmother of Thomas Savage, 1st Viscount Savage and the great-grandmother of John Savage, 1st Earl Rivers and was the great-great-grandmother of Charles Paulet, 1st Duke of Bolton.
Isabel Manners, died young.
He died on 20 September 1543 and was buried in Bottesford Church, Leicestershire. His body was embalmed with spices purchased in Nottingham and a surgeon encased it in wax. A plumber then encased it in a close fitting leaden shell.
His surviving alabaster chest tomb in the chancel of St Mary's Church, Bottesford, Leicestershire, was created by Richard Parker of Burton-on-Trent with John Lupton (rough mason) and his father, over a period of six days, the floor having been strengthened to the weight of the tomb. Thomas Richard Parker "the alabaster man" was paid £20 for the sculpture and the supervision of its positioning. Surviving accounts at Belvoir Castle record in considerable detail the arrangements for this work and the funeral. As well as commemorating the 1st Earl of Rutland and his wife this monument also marks the first of the future burials in the church of eight earls and four dukes over a period of almost 250 years.
The Earl's effigy is dressed in chain mail and full plate armour with a loose military tabard over which he wears the mantle of the Order of the Garter while on his left leg is the Garter itself. His head wears a basic form of coronet and rests on his tilt-heaume on top of which is the Manners crest of a peacock in pride on a Cap of Maintenance. The feet rest on a unicorn, from which the horn is now missing. The effigy of the countess is dressed in a gown and a short cape and wears an ermine trimmed mantle fastened by a cordon whose ends reach almost to her feet, under which is a griffon. Tasselled cushions support her head. The base of the tomb is decorated with corner pilasters, tasselled swags and "weeper" figures representing knights, ladies and others.>>
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The Second Part: The History of the Valorous &
Witty Knight-Errant Don Quixote of the Mancha
[The penultimate chapter of DQ by Thomas Shelton]
CHAPTER 73: Of the Presages and Forebodings which happened to Don Quixote at the Entrance into his Village, with other Adventures, which serve for Grace and Ornament unto this Famous History, and which give Credit unto it
CID HAMET reporteth that as they were come near unto the entrance into their village, Don Quixote perceived how in the commons thereof there were two young lads, who in great anger contested and disputed together. The one said to the other, ‘Pierrot, thou must not chafe or be angry at it; for as long as thou livest thou shalt never set thine eyes upon her.’ Which Don Quixote hearing, he began this speech unto Sancho: ‘Friend,’ said he, ‘dost not thou understand what yonder young lad saith, “So long as thou livest thou shalt never set eyes upon her”?’
‘And what imports,’ quoth Sancho, ‘what that young lad hath spoken?’ ‘What!’ replied Don Quixote; ‘seest thou not how that, applying the words unto mine intention, his meaning is that I shall never see my Dulcinea?’ Sancho was about to answer him, but he was hindered by an hare, which chased, crossed their way. She was eagerly pursued by divers greyhounds and huntsmen, so that, fearfully amazed, she squatted down between the feet of Dapple.
Sancho boldly took her up, and presented the same unto Don Quixote, who cried out aloud, “‘Malum signum, malum signum”; a hare runs away, greyhounds pursue her, and Dulcinea appears not.’
‘You are a *STRANGE* man,’ then quoth Sancho. ‘Let us i{M}agine th{A}t this ha{R}e is Dulc{I}nea, and t{He} greyhounds that pursue her the wicked enchanters that have transformed her into a country lass. She runs away, I take her up, and deliver her into your own hands; you hold her in your arms, you hug and make much of her. What ill-boding may this be, and what misfortune can be implied upon this?’
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In the meanwhile, the two young boys came near unto them to see the hare; and Sancho demanded of one of them the cause or ground of their brabbling controversy. Then he who had uttered the words, ‘So long as thou livest thou shalt never set eyes upon her,’ related unto Sancho how that he had taken from the other boy a little cage full of crickets, and that he never purposed to let him have it again. Then Sancho pulled out of his pocket a piece of six blanks, and gave it to the other boy for his cage, which he put into Don Quixote’s hands, saying thus unto him: ‘Behold, good sir, all these fond soothsayings and ill presages are dashed and overthrown, and have now nothing to do with our adventures, according to my understanding, although I be but a silly gull, no more than with the last year’s snow. And, if my memory fail me not, I think I have heard the curate of our village say that it fits not good Christians and wise folk to stand upon such foolish fopperies. It is not long since you told me so yourself, and gave me to understand that all such Christians as plodded and amused themselves upon auguries or divinations were very fools. And therefore let us no longer trouble ourselves with them, but let us go on, and enter into our village.’
There, whilst the hunters came in, they demanded to have their hare, and Don Quixote delivered the same unto them.
Then he and Sancho kept on their way; and at the entrance into the village, in a little meadow, they met with the curate and the bachelor *Carrasco*, who, with their beads in their hands, were saying their prayers.
It is to be understood that Sancho Panza had placed upon Dapple, and upon the fardel of their weapons, the jacket or gaberdine of boccasin, all painted over with fiery flames, which was upon him in the duke’s castle the night that Altisidora rose again from death to life; which jub or jacket served them instead of a carpet or sumpter-cloth. They had likewise placed upon the ass’s head the mitre whereof we have spoken before. It was the newest kind of transformation and the fittest decking or array that ever ass did put upon his head.
The curate and the bachelor knew them incontinently, and with wide-open arms ran towards them.
Don Quixote alighted presently, and very kindly embraced them. But the little children, who are as sharp-sighted as any lynx, having eyed the ass’s mitre, flocked suddenly about them to see the same, saying the one to the other, ‘Come, come, and run all you camarados, and you shall see Sancho Panza’s ass more brave and gallant than Mingo; and Don Quixote’s palfrey leaner, fainter, and more flaggy than it was the first day.’
Finally, being environed with many young children, and attended on by the curate and bachelor, they entered the village, and went directly unto Don Quixote’s house; at the door whereof they met with his maidservant, and with his niece, who had already heard the news of their coming.
Teresa Panza, the wife of Sancho, had likewise been advertised thereof. She ran all dishevelled and half naked to see her husband, leading her daughter Sanchica by the hand. But when she saw that he was not so richly attired as she imagined, and in that equipage a governor should be, she thus began to discourse with him: ‘My husband, after what fashion dost thou come home? Methinks thou comest on foot, and with toilsome travelling, all tired and fainthearted; thou rather barest the countenance of a miserable wretch than of a governor.
‘Hold thy peace, Teresa,’ quoth Sancho; ‘for oftentimes when there be boots, there be no spurs. Let us go unto our house, and there thou shalt hear wonders. So it is that I have money, which is of more consequence, and I have gotten it by mine own industry, without doing wrong to anybody.’
‘Why, then, you have money, my good husband?’ replied Tere{S}a; ‘that’s very well; it is no matter how {Y}ou came by it, be it by hook or crook; fo{R} after what [MANNER S]oever you have l{A}id hands on it you bring no new custo{M} into the world.’ Sanchica embraced her father, and asked him whether he had brought her anything; and that she had as earnestly looked for him as men do for dew in the month of May.
Thus his wife holding him by the one hand, and his daughter by the one side of his girdle, and with the other hand leading Dapple, they entered into their cottage, leaving Don Quixote in his own house, in the power of his niece and maid[SE]rvant, and in the company of the curate and the bachelor.
Don Quixote, wi[T]hout longer delay, at that very instant drew the bachelor and the curate aside, and in few words related his being defeated unto them, and the vow [W]hich he had been forced to make, not to go out of his village during the sp[A]ce of one whole year; how his purpose was fully to keep the same, without [TR]ansgressing it in one jot or atom ; since that by the rules of knight-errantry, and as he was a true knight-errant, he was strictly obliged to perform it; which was the reason that he had resolved, during the time of that year, to become a shepherd, and entertain himself among the deserts and solitary places of that country, where he might freely vent out and give scope unto his amorous passions by exercising himself in commendable and virtuous pastoral exercises; and now besought them, if they had no greater affairs in hand, and were not employed in matters of more importance, they would both be pleased to beco{M}e his companions {A}nd fellow-shephe{R}ds; for he would bu{Y S}tore of sheep, and get so sufficient a flock together as they might well take upon them the name of shepherds.
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And in the meantime he gave them to understand that the chiefest point of this business was already effected; for he had already appointed them so proper and convenient names as if they had been cast in a mould.
The curate would needs know these names. Don Quixote told him that himself would be called the shepherd Quixotiz; the bachelor, the shepherd Carrascon; and the curate, the shepherd Curiambro; and as for Sancho Panza, he should be styled Panzino.
They were all astonished at Don Quixote’s new folly; nevertheless, that he might not another time go out of his village, and return to his knighthood’s and cavalier’s tricks, and therewithal supposing that in the space of this year he might be cured and recovered, they allowed of his design and new invention, and in that rural exercise offered to become his companions.
‘We shall lead a pleasant life,’ said *Samson Carrasco*, ‘since, as all the world knoweth, I am an excellent poet, and shall every hand-while be composing of pastoral ditties and eclogues, or else some verses of the court, as best shall agree to our purpose. Thus shall we entertain ourselves by the ways we shall pass and go. But, good sirs, the thing that is most necessary is that everyone make choice of the name of the shepherdess whom he intendeth to celebrate in his verses; and that there be no tree, how hard and knurry soever, but therein we shall write, carve, and engrave her name, even as amorous shepherds are accustomed to do.’
‘In good sooth, that will do passing well,’ quoth Don Quixote; ‘albeit I need not go far to find out the name of an imaginary shepherdess, since I have the never-matched or paralleled Dulcinea of Toboso, the glory of all these shores, the ornament of these meadows, the grace and comeliness of beauty, the cream and prime of all gracefulness, and, to be short, the subject on which the extremi{T}y of all commend{A}tions may right{L}y be conferred, h{O}w hyperbolical {S}oever it be.’
‘It is most true,’ said the curate; ‘but for us, we must seek out some barren shepherdesses, and at least, if they be not fit and proper for us, yet one way or other they may stead us, if not in the main, yet in the by.’
‘Although we have none,’ quoth *Samson Carrasco*, ‘yet will we give them those very names as we see in print, and wherewith the world is full. For we will call them Phillis, Amaryllis, Diana, Florinda, Galathea, and Belisarda. Since they are publicly to be sold in the open market-place, we may very well buy them, and lawfully appropriate them unto ourselves. If my mistress, or, to say better, my shepherdess, have to name Anna, I will celebrate her under the style of Anarda; if she be called Francis, I will call her Francina; and if she hight Lucie, her name shall be Lucinda; for all such names square and encounter. As for Sancho Panza, if he will be one of our fraternity, he may celebrate his wife Teresa Panza under the name of Teresaina.’
Don Quixote burst out a-laughing at the application of these names, whilst the curate did infinitely commend and extol his honourable resolution, and again offered to keep him company all the time that he could spare, having acquitted himself of the charge unto which he was bound.
With that they took leave of him, persuading and entreating him to have a care of his health, and endeavour to be merry.
So it happened that his niece and his maidservant heard all the speeches which they three had together; and when the bachelor and the curate were gone from him, they both came near unto Don Quixote, and thus his niece bespake him:
‘What means this, my lord, mine uncle? Now when we imagined that you would have continued in your own house, and there live a quiet, a reposed, and honourable life, you go about to cast yourself headlong into new labyrinths and troubles, with becoming a swain or shepherd? Verily, the corn is already over-hard to make oaten pipes of it.’
‘But how,’ quoth the maidservant, ‘can you endure and undergo in the open fields the scorching heat of summer and the cold and frost of winter nights, and hear the howlings of wolves without quaking for very fear? No, truly; for so much as that belongs only to such as are of a robust and [S]urly complex[I]on, of a hard an[D] rugged skin, a[N]d that from th[EI]r cradles are bred and inured to such a trade and occupation.
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If the worst come to the worst, it were better to be still a knight-errant than a shepherd. I beseech you, good my lord, follow my coun{S}el which I give y{O}u, not as being fu{L}l of wine and bre{A}d, but rather fas{T}ing, and as one that have fifty years upon my head. Abide still in your house, think on your domestic affairs, confess yourself often, serve God, do good unto the poor, and if any harm come to you of it, let me take it upon my soul.’
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‘Good wenches, hold your peace,’ replied Don Quixote; ‘for I know what I have to do. In the meanwhile, let me be had to bed. Methinks I am not very well; yet assure yourself that whether I be an errant knight or a shepherd, I will carefully provide for all that you may stand in need of, and you shall see the effects of it.’
The niece and the maidservant, who without doubt were two merry good wenches, laid him in his bed, and attended and looked so well unto him as they could not possibly have done better.>>
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Art Neuendorffer
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