t in no book of chivalry had he ever read of any
knight-errant dying in his bed so calmly and so like a Christian as
Don Quixote, who amid the tears and lamentations of all present
yielded up his spirit,--that is to say, died. On perceiving it, the
curate begged the notary to bear witness that Alonso Quixano the Good,
commonly called Don Quixote of La Mancha, had passed away from this
present life, and died naturally; and said he desired this testimony
in order to remove the possibility of any other author save Cid Hamet
Benengeli bringing him to life again falsely and making interminable
stories out of his achievements.

Such was the end of the Ingenious Gentleman of La Mancha, whose
village Cid Hamet would not indicate precisely, in order to leave all
the towns and villages of La Mancha to contend among themselves for
the right to adopt him and claim him as a son, as the seven cities of
Greece contended for Homer. The lamentations of Sancho and the niece
and housekeeper are omitted here, as well as the new epitaphs upon his
tomb; Samson Carrasco, however, put the following:--

"A doughty gentleman lies here,
A stranger all his life to fear;
Nor in his death could Death prevail,
In that last hour, to make him quail.
He for the world but little cared,
And at his feats the world was scared;
A crazy man his life he passed,
But in his senses died at last."

And said most sage Cid Hamet to his pen:--

"Rest here, hung up by this brass wire, upon this shelf. O my pen!
whether of skillful make or clumsy cut I know not; here shalt thou
remain long ages hence, unless presumptuous or malignant story-tellers
take thee down to profane thee. But ere they touch thee warn them, and
as best thou canst, say to them:--

'Hold off! ye weaklings; hold your hands!
Adventure it let none,
For this enterprise, my lord the King,
Was meant for me alone.'

For me alone was Don Quixote born, and I for him; it was his to act,
mine to write; we two together make but one, notwithstanding and in
spite of that pretended Tordesillesque writer who has ventured or
would venture with his great coarse ill-trimmed ostrich quill to write
the achievements of my valiant knight;--no burden for his shoulders,
nor subject for his frozen wit: whom, if perchance thou shouldst come
to know him, thou shalt warn to leave at rest where they lie the weary
moldering bones of Don Quixote, and not to attempt to carry him off,
in