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Updated: June 25, 2025
By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra Finally, surrounded by boys, and attended by the curate and the bachelor, they entered the village, and got to Don Quixote's house, where they found at the door his housekeeper and his niece, that had already got the news of their arrival.
"How many soldiers are there?" Luis Cervantes asked. "I don't want to lie to you, boss, but to tell you the truth, yes, sir, to tell you God's truth, there's a lot of them, a whole lot of 'em." Luis Cervantes turned around to stare at Demetrio, who feigned momentary deafness. They were soon in the city square. A loud volley of rifle shots rang out, deafening them.
It is a fanciful relation: as Bode’s shade is received with jubilation and delight in the Elysian Fields by Cervantes, Rabelais, Montaigne, Fielding and Sterne, the latter censures Bode for distrusting his own creative power, indicating that he might have stood with the group just enumerated, that the fame of being “the most excellent transcriber” of his age should not have sufficed.
Cervantes with his Don Quixote laughed chivalry out of Europe, and there was a class in society that would willingly have laughed witchcraft out of England. Their onslaught was one most difficult to repel. Nevertheless the defenders of witchcraft met the challenge squarely.
I think it hardly less fortunate that Cervantes was one of my early passions, though I sat at his feet with no more sense of his mastery than I had of Goldsmith's. I recall very fully the moment and the place when I first heard of 'Don Quixote, while as yet I could not connect it very distinctly with anybody's authorship.
He planned the exile of the auditors, with the seizure of their property and papers in all of which meddled Cervantes, who was an enemy of the royal Audiencia, and known as such; and now was elevated to be the favorite of the governor by the favor of the Dominicans, in order to be judge in the most important lawsuits of this commonwealth.
'Van muerte tan escondida, Que no te sienta venir, Porque el plazer del morir, No mestorne a dar la vida. "That's Spanish from Miguel de Cervantes.
I grant all the wonderful powers of invention bestowed on the creators of poetic romance; still not the sovereign masters in that realm of literature not Scott, not Cervantes, not Goethe, not even Shakspeare could have presumed to rebuild the past without such materials as they found in the books that record it.
Eight Spanish towns have claimed to have given birth to Cervantes, thus beating the blind Scian by one town; every one that can show on its church records the baptism of a child so called has made its claim.
It was the kind of nose, as Cervantes must surely have explained somewhere, which denotes an inborn enthusiasm for all things great, a tendency which is apt to degenerate into credulity. And yet, though the man's ugliness was something almost ludicrous, it aroused not the slightest inclination to laugh.
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