Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (electric book reader TXT) π

Description
Don Quixote is a novel that doesnβt need much introduction. Not only is it widely considered the greatest Spanish literary work of all time, one of the greatest literary works in history, and a cornerstone of the Western literary canon, itβs also considered one of the firstβif not the firstβmodern novels.
This Standard Ebooks edition is believed to be the first ebook edition of Don Quixote to feature a full transcription of translator John Ormsbyβs nearly 1,000 footnotes. Ormsby as an annotator deftly explains obscure passages, gives background on the life and times of 1600s Spain, references decisions from other contemporary translators, and doesnβt hold back from sharing his views on the geniusβand flawsβof Cervantesβ greatest work.
The story is of the eponymous Don Quixote, a country noble who, in his old age, reads too many chivalric romances and goes mad. After convincing his grubby servant, Sancho Panza, to join him as his squire, he embarks on an absurd and comic quest to do good and right wrongs.
Today Don Quixoteβs two volumes are published as a single work, but their publication came ten years apart. Cervantes saw great success with the publication of his first volume, and appeared to have little desire to write a second volume until a different author wrote a spurious, inferior sequel. This kicked Cervantes into gear and he wrote volume two, a more serious and philosophical volume than the largely comic first volume.
Despite being written in 1605 and translated in 1885, Don Quixote contains a surprising amount of slapstick laughsβeven for the modern readerβand narrative devices still seen in todayβs fiction, including meta-narratives, frame narratives, and metafiction. Many scenes (like Quixoteβs attack on the windmills) and characters (like Sancho Panza and Lothario) are so famous that theyβre ingrained in our collective culture.
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- Author: Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
Read book online Β«Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (electric book reader TXT) πΒ». Author - Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
βSo that if your wife had not died, or had not been killed, you would not now be a widower,β said Sancho.
βNo, seΓ±or, certainly not,β said the farmer.
βWeβve got that much settled,β said Sancho; βget on, brother, for itβs more bedtime than business-time.β
βWell then,β said the farmer, βthis son of mine who is going to be a bachelor, fell in love in the said town with a damsel called Clara Perlerina, daughter of AndrΓ©s Perlerino, a very rich farmer; and this name of Perlerines does not come to them by ancestry or descent, but because all the family are paralytics,832 and for a better name they call them Perlerines; though to tell the truth the damsel is as fair as an Oriental pearl, and like a flower of the field, if you look at her on the right side; on the left not so much, for on that side she wants an eye that she lost by smallpox; and though her face is thickly and deeply pitted, those who love her say they are not pits that are there, but the graves where the hearts of her lovers are buried. She is so cleanly that not to soil her face she carries her nose turned up, as they say, so that one would fancy it was running away from her mouth; and with all this she looks extremely well, for she has a wide mouth; and but for wanting ten or a dozen teeth and grinders she might compare and compete with the comeliest. Of her lips I say nothing, for they are so fine and thin that, if lips might be reeled, one might make a skein of them; but being of a different colour from ordinary lips they are wonderful, for they are mottled, blue, green, and purpleβ βlet my lord the governor pardon me for painting so minutely the charms of her who some time or other will be my daughter; for I love her, and I donβt find her amiss.β
βPaint what you will,β said Sancho; βI enjoy your painting, and if I had dined there could be no dessert more to my taste than your portrait.β
βThat I have still to furnish,β said the farmer;833 βbut a time will come when we may be able if we are not now; and I can tell you, seΓ±or, if I could paint her gracefulness and her tall figure, it would astonish you; but that is impossible because she is bent double with her knees up to her mouth; but for all that it is easy to see that if she could stand up sheβd knock her head against the ceiling; and she would have given her hand to my bachelor ere this, only that she canβt stretch it out, for itβs contracted; but still one can see its elegance and fine make by its long furrowed nails.β
βThat will do, brother,β said Sancho; βconsider you have painted her from head to foot; what is it you want now? Come to the point without all this beating about the bush, and all these scraps and additions.β
βI want your worship, seΓ±or,β said the farmer, βto do me the favour of giving me a letter of recommendation to the girlβs father, begging him to be so good as to let this marriage take place, as we are not ill-matched either in the gifts of fortune or of nature; for to tell the truth, seΓ±or governor, my son is possessed of a devil, and there is not a day but the evil spirits torment him three or four times; and from having once fallen into the fire, he has his face puckered up like a piece of parchment, and his eyes watery and always running; but he has the disposition of an angel, and if it was not for belabouring and pummelling himself heβd be a saint.β
βIs there anything else you want, good man?β said Sancho.
βThereβs another thing Iβd like,β said the farmer, βbut Iβm afraid to mention it; however, out it must; for after all I canβt let it be rotting in my breast, come what may. I mean, seΓ±or, that Iβd like your worship to give me three hundred or six hundred ducats as a help to my bachelorβs portion, to help him in setting up house; for they must, in short, live by themselves, without being subject to the interferences of their fathers-in-law.β
βJust see if thereβs anything else youβd like,β said Sancho, βand donβt hold back from mentioning it out of bashfulness or modesty.β
βNo, indeed there is not,β said the farmer.
The moment he said this the governor started to his feet, and seizing the chair he had been sitting on exclaimed, βBy all thatβs good, you ill-bred, boorish Don Bumpkin, if you donβt get out of this at once and hide yourself from my sight, Iβll lay your head open with this chair. You whoreson rascal, you devilβs own painter, and is it at this hour you come to ask me for six hundred ducats! How should I have them, you stinking brute? And why should I give them to you if I had them, you knave and blockhead? What have I to do with Miguelturra or the whole family of the Perlerines? Get out I say, or by the life of my lord the duke Iβll do as I said. Youβre not from Miguelturra, but some knave sent here from hell to tempt me. Why, you villain, I have not yet had the government half a day, and you want me to have six hundred ducats already!β
The carver made signs to the farmer to leave the room, which he did with his head down, and to all appearance in terror lest the governor should carry his threats into effect, for the rogue knew very well how to play his part.
But let us
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