Selections from Don Quixote: A Dual-Language Book [NOOK Book]

Overview


Carefully selected passages from one of the great masterpieces of world literature feature the satiric adventures of a would-be knight and his faithful squire. Excellent new literal English translations on facing pages of the original Spanish text cover carefully selected passages that capture the wonderful flavor and romance of the complete work.
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Selections from Don Quixote: A Dual-Language Book

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Overview


Carefully selected passages from one of the great masterpieces of world literature feature the satiric adventures of a would-be knight and his faithful squire. Excellent new literal English translations on facing pages of the original Spanish text cover carefully selected passages that capture the wonderful flavor and romance of the complete work.
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780486117676
  • Publisher: Dover Publications
  • Publication date: 9/20/2012
  • Series: Dover Dual Language Spanish
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 256
  • Sales rank: 1,171,342
  • File size: 911 KB

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Selections from Don Quixote Selecciones de Don Quijote de la Mancha

A Dual-Language Book


By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, STANLEY APPELBAUM

Dover Publications, Inc.

Copyright © 1999 Dover Publications, Inc.
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-486-11767-6



CHAPTER 1

Que trata de la condición y ejercicio del famoso hidalgo Don Quijote de la Mancha


En un lugar de la Mancha, de cuyo nombre no quiero acordarme, no ha mucho tiempo que vivía un hidalgo de los de lanza en astillero, adarga antigua, rocín flaco y galgo corredor. Una olla de algo más vaca que carnero, salpicón las más noches, duelos y quebrantos los sábados, lantejas los viernes, algún palomino de añadidura los domingos, consumían las tres partes de su hacienda. El resto della concluían sayo de velarte, calzas de velludo para las fiestas, con sus pantuflos de lo mesmo, y los días de entresemana se honraba con su vellorí de lo más fino. Tenía en su casa una ama que pasaba de los cuarenta, y una sobrina que no llegaba a los veinte, y un mozo de campo y plaza, que así ensillaba el rocín como tomaba la podadera. Frisaba la edad de nuestro hidalgo con los cincuenta años; era de complexión recia, seco de carnes, enjuto de rostro, gran madrugador y amigo de la caza. Quieren decir que tenía el sobrenombre de Quijada, o Quesada, que en esto hay alguna diferencia en los autores que deste caso escriben; aunque por conjeturas verosímiles se deja entender que se llamaba Quejana. Pero esto importa poco a nuestro cuento; basta que en la narración dél no se salga un punto de la verdad.

Es, pues, de saber, que este sobredicho hidalgo, los ratos que estaba ocioso —que eran los más del año—, se daba a leer libros de caballerías con tanta afición y gusto, que olvidó casi de todo punto el ejercicio de la caza, y aun la administración de su hacienda; y llegó a tanto su curiosidad y desatino en esto, que vendió muchas hanegas de tierra de sembradura para comprar libros de caballerías en que leer, y así, llevó a su casa todos cuantos pudo haber dellos; y de todos, ningunos le parecían tan bien como los que compuso el famoso Feliciano de Silva, porque la claridad de su prosa y aquellas entricadas razones suyas le parecían de perlas, y más cuando llegaba a leer aquellos requiebros y cartas de desafíos, donde en muchas partes hallaba escrito: La razón de la sinrazón que a mi razón se hace, de tal manera mi razón enflaquece, que con razón me quejo de la vuestra fermosura. Y también cuando leía: ... los altos cielos que de vuestra divinidad divinamente con las estrellas os fortifican, y os hacen merecedora del merecimiento que merece la vuestra grandeza.

Con estas razones perdía el pobre caballero el juicio, y desvelábase por entenderlas y desentrañarles el sentido, que no se lo sacara ni las entendiera el mesmo Aristóteles, si resucitara para sólo ello. No estaba muy bien con las heridas que don Belianís daba y recebía, porque se imaginaba que, por grandes maestros que le hubiesen curado, no dejaría de tener el rostro y todo el cuerpo lleno de cicatrices y señales. Pero, con todo, alababa en su autor aquel acabar su libro con la promesa de aquella inacabable aventura, y muchas veces le vino deseo de tomar la pluma y dalle fin al pie de la letra, como allí se promete; y sin duda alguna lo hiciera, y aun saliera con ello, si otros mayores y continuos pensamientos no se lo estorbaran. Tuvo muchas veces competencia con el cura de su lugar —que era hombre docto, graduado en Sigüenza—, sobre cuál había sido mejor caballero: Palmerín de Ingalaterra o Amadís de Gaula; mas maese Nicolás, barbero del mesmo pueblo, decía que ninguno llegaba al Caballero del Febo, y que si alguno se le podía comparar era don Galaor, hermano de Amadís de Gaula, porque tenía muy acomodada condición para todo; que no era caballero melindroso ni tan llorón como su hermano, y que en lo de la valentía no le iba en zaga.

En resolución, él se enfrascó tanto en su letura, que se le pasaban las noches leyendo de claro en claro, y los días de turbio en turbio; y así, del poco dormir y del mucho leer se le secó el celebro, de manera que vino a perder el juicio. Llenósele la fantasía de todo aquello que leía en los libros, así de encantamentos como de pendencias, batallas, desafíos, heridas, requiebros, amores, tormentas y disparates imposibles; y asentósele de tal modo en la imaginación que era verdad toda aquella máquina de aquellas sonadas soñadas invenciones que leía, que para él no había otra historia más cierta en el mundo. Decía él que el Cid Ruy Díaz había sido muy buen caballero, pero que no tenía que ver con el Caballero de la Ardiente Espada, que de sólo un revés había partido por medio dos fieros y descomunales gigantes. Mejor estaba con Bernardo del Carpio, porque en Roncesvalles había muerto a Roldán el encantado, valiéndose de la industria de Hércules, cuando ahogó a Anteo, el hijo de la Tierra, entre los brazos. Decía mucho bien del gigante Morgante porque, con ser de aquella generación gigantea, que todos son soberbios y descomedidos, él sólo era afable y bien criado. Pero, sobre todos, estaba bien con Reinaldos de Montalbán, y más cuando le veía salir de su castillo y robar cuantos topaba, y cuando en allende robó aquel ídolo de Mahoma que era todo de oro, según dice su historia. Diera él por dar una mano de coces al traidor de Galalón, al ama que tenía y aun a su sobrina de añadidura.

En efeto, rematado ya su juicio, vino a dar en el más estraño pensamiento que jamás dio loco en el mundo, y fue que le pareció convenible y necesario, así para el aumento de su honra como para el servicio de su república, hacerse caballero andante, y irse por todo el mundo con sus armas y caballo a buscar las aventuras y a ejercitarse en todo aquello que él había leído que los caballeros andantes se ejercitaban, deshaciendo todo género de agravio, y poniéndose en ocasiones y peligros donde, acabándolos, cobrase eterno nombre y fama. Imaginábase el pobre ya coronado por el valor de su brazo, por lo menos, del imperio de Trapisonda; y así, con estos tan agradables pensamientos, llevado del estraño gusto que en ellos sentía, se dio priesa a poner en efeto lo que deseaba. Y lo primero que hizo fue limpiar unas armas que habían sido de sus bisabuelos, que, tomadas de orín y llenas de moho, luengos siglos había que estaban puestas y olvidadas en un rincón. Limpiólas y aderezólas lo mejor que pudo; pero vio que tenían una gran falta, y era que no tenían celada de encaje, sino morrión simple; mas a esto suplió su industria, porque de cartones hizo un modo de media celada, que, encajada con el morrión, hacían una apariencia de celada entera. Es verdad que para probar si era fuerte y podía estar al riesgo de una cuchillada, sacó su espada y le dio dos golpes, y con el primero y en un punto deshizo lo que había hecho en una semana; y no dejó de parecerle mal la facilidad con que la había hecho pedazos, y, por asegurarse deste peligro, la tornó a hacer de nuevo, poniéndole unas barras de hierro por de dentro, de tal manera que él quedó satisfecho de su fortaleza, y sin querer hacer nueva experiencia della, la diputó y tuvo por celada finísima de encaje.

Fue luego a ver su rocín, y aunque tenía más cuartos que un real y más tachas que el caballo de Gonela, que tantum pellis et ossa fuit, le pareció que ni el Bucéfalo de Alejandro ni Babieca el del Cid con él se igualaban. Cuatro días se le pasaron en imaginar qué nombre le pondría; porque —según se decía él a sí mesmo— no era razón que caballo de caballero tan famoso, y tan bueno él por sí, estuviese sin nombre conocido; y ansí, procuraba acomodársele de manera que declarase quién había sido antes que fuese de caballero andante, y lo que era entonces; pues estaba muy puesto en razón que, mudando su señor estado, mudase él también el nombre, y le cobrase famoso y de estruendo, como convenía a la nueva orden y al nuevo ejercicio que ya profesaba; y así, después de muchos nombres que formó, borró y quitó, añadió, deshizo y tornó a hacer en su memoria e imaginación, al fin le vino a llamar Rocinante, nombre, a su parecer, alto, sonoro y significativo de lo que había sido cuando fue rocín, antes de lo que ahora era, que era antes y primero de todos los rocines del mundo.


Which Concerns the Nature and Habits of the Famous Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha


In a village of La Mancha, whose name I don't want to remember, there lived not long ago one of those gentlemen who possess a lance in its rack, an old-fashioned shield, an emaciated workhorse, and a hunting hound for coursing game. A stew containing somewhat more beef than mutton, a salmagundi most nights, fried eggs and bacon on Saturdays, lentils on Fridays, a squab as an extra treat on Sundays, used up three-fourths of his income. The rest of it was finished off by a doublet of fine dark cloth, and velvet breeches for holidays with slippers of the same material; while on weekdays he did himself proud with an outfit of the best medium-quality brown cloth that could be found. In his home he had a housekeeper past forty and a niece not yet twenty, as well as a manservant for both domestic and field work, who both saddled his horse and wielded the pruning hook. Our gentleman was getting on for fifty; he was of a robust constitution, with a skinny body and a lean face; he was a very early riser, and quite fond of hunting. They say his family name was Quijada, or Quesada, for there is some disagreement about this in the authors who write about the matter, though by likely conjectures it may be understood that his name was Quejana. But this is of little importance to our story; it will suffice that, in the telling of it, we do not depart in the least from the truth.

Well, then, it should be known that, in his idle moments—which was most of the time—the aforesaid gentleman used to read books of chivalry with such interest and pleasure that he nearly forgot entirely his pursuit of hunting, and even the management of his estate; and his foolish infatuation with these things led him to sell off many acres of arable land in order to purchase books of chivalry to read. So, he brought home as many of them as he could find. Among them all, he thought none were so good as those written by Feliciano de Silva, because the clarity of his prose and those complicated phrases of his seemed as precious as pearls to him, especially when he happened to read those gallant compliments and those letters containing challenges, in which he frequently found passages like: "The reason for the unreasonable injury being done to my reason so weakens my reason that with reason I complain about your beauty." And likewise when he read: "The lofty heavens that divinely with the stars fortify you with your divinity, and make you deserving of the desert your greatness deserves."

Reading such phrases, the poor knight was gradually losing his mind, staying up nights to understand them and root out their meaning, which even Aristotle couldn't have found; nor would he have understood them, had he been brought back to life for that sole purpose. The gentleman was unhappy about the wounds that Don Belianís inflicted and received, because he imagined that, no matter how skillful the doctors were who tended him, his face and whole body would have to be full of scars and marks. And yet, despite all this, he praised the author for ending his book with the promise of that never-ending adventure; and he often felt the urge to take up his pen and write an ending to it literally, just as the text promised. No doubt he would have done so, and would have accomplished it, too, had he not been impeded by other, greater thoughts that were always in his mind. He had frequent arguments with the parish priest of his village, who was a learned man and a graduate of the University of Sigüenza, over which one had been a better knight, Palmerín of England or Amadís of Gaul. But Master Nicolás, the barber of the same locality, said that nobody equaled the Knight of Phoebus, and that, if anyone could be compared with him, it was Don Galaor, brother of Amadís of Gaul, because his character was very adaptable to any occasion; he wasn't a finicky, affected knight, or a crybaby like his brother, and he didn't lag behind him when it came to valor.

In short, he became so absorbed in his books that he spent his nights reading from daylight to daylight, and his days from dark to dark. And so, from an insufficiency of sleep and an excess of reading, his brain dried out, and he finally lost his mind. His imagination was filled with everything he read in his books, not only enchantments but also fights, battles, challenges, wounds, gallant compliments, love affairs, storms, and impossible nonsense; and he became so convinced that all that apparatus of talked-up and dreamed-up fiction he read was the truth, that for him there was no other history in the world that was so accurate. He used to say that Ruy Díaz, the Cid, had been a very good knight, but couldn't compare with the Knight of the Burning Sword, who with a single backhand stroke had cut in half two fierce, immense giants. He was more favorably inclined toward Bernardo del Carpio, because at Roncesvalles he had killed Roland (who was protected by spells) by means of the same ruse Hercules used when he throttled Antaeus, the son of the Earth, between his arms. He had much good to say about the giant Morgante because, even though he was of that race of giants who were all arrogant and insolent, he alone was affable and courteous. But above all he was fond of Renaut of Montauban, especially when he saw him sallying forth from his castle to rob everyone he came across, and when, in foreign parts, he stole that idol of Mahomet which was all of gold, as his story relates. To be able to give a round of kicks to the traitor Ganelon, he would have given up his housekeeper, and his niece into the bargain.

As a matter of fact, once his mind was ruined, he lit upon the strangest idea any madman ever had: it seemed fitting and necessary to him, both for the furtherance of his own honor and for the good of his country, to become a knight-errant and roam the entire world with his armor and steed in quest of adventures and the practice of all those deeds performed by the knights-errant he had read about: righting all sorts of wrongs and exposing himself to perilous situations and feats, the accomplishing of which would win him eternal glory and fame. The poor fellow already pictured himself crowned as emperor of Trebizond, at the very least, through the strength of his arm; and so, with such agreeable thoughts as these, impelled by the strange pleasure he took in them, he hastened to put his desires into effect. The first thing he did was to clean some armor which had belonged to his great-grandfathers and which, all rusty and covered with mold, had been put away and forgotten in a corner for ages. He did his best to clean and repair it, but he saw that it had a great shortcoming: there was no segment to attach the helmet to the neckpiece, but merely a headpiece. But his wit made up the lack: he made a sort of half-segment out of cardboard, which, when joined to the headpiece, gave the appearance of an entire helmet. It's true that when, to test its strength and its ability to ward off a sword blow, he drew his sword and struck it twice, the first blow immediately undid his labors of a full week. He couldn't avoid worrying about the ease with which he had demolished it; and, to protect himself against that danger, he made a new one, inserting some iron rods inside, so that he was satisfied with its strength and, without trying another test on it, he considered it and looked upon it as an excellent helmet connected to the neckpiece.

Then he went to see his workhorse, and although there were as many nicks in his hooves as there are nickels in a dollar, and he had as many flaws as Gonnella's horse, being "nothing but skin and bones," in his master's eyes neither Alexander the Great's Bucephalus nor the Cid's Babieca came up to him, because, as he told himself, it wasn't proper for the horse of such a famous knight, a horse so good in his own right, to be without a well-known name. And so he tried to find a fitting one that would declare what he had been before belonging to a knight-errant and what he now was; for it was settled in his mind that, since the horse's master was changing his walk in life, he too must change his name and take on a famous and terrific one, befitting the new order of chivalry and the new career his master was now professing. And so, after inventing many names, erasing and removing them, adding new ones, rejecting them and remaking them in his memory and imagination, finally he came to call him Rocinante, a name he found lofty, sonorous, and indicative of the fact that he had been a workhorse [rocín] before [antes] being what he was now, which was the leader [antes] and foremost of all the workhorses in the world.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Selections from Don Quixote Selecciones de Don Quijote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, STANLEY APPELBAUM. Copyright © 1999 Dover Publications, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of Dover Publications, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Introduction
Part One
I
II
III
IV
[Synopsis of Chapters V & VI]
VII
VIII
IX (excerpt)
[Synopsis of Chapters X-XIV]
XV (excerpt)
XVI
XVII
XVIII (excerpt)
XIX
XX (excerpts)
XXI (excerpts)
XXII
[Synopsis of Chapters XXIII-XXIX]
XXX (excerpt)
XXXI (excerpts)
[Synopsis of Chapters XXXII-XXXIV]
XXXV (excerpt)
[Synopsis of Chapters XXXVI-XLII]
XLIII (excerpt)
XLIV (excerpt)
[Synopsis of Chapters XLV & XLVI]
XLVII (excerpt)
[Synopsis of Chapters XLVIII-L]
LI
LII (excerpt)
Part Two
LXXIV
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