Dom Quixote – Volume I – 3

Por estas razões perdia o pobre cavalheiro o juízo, e desvelava-se por entendê-las e desentranhar-lhes o sentido, que nem o próprio Aristóteles entenderia, ainda que só para isso ressuscitasse. Não entendia muito bem as feridas que Dom Belianis dava e recebia, porque imaginava que, por maior que fosse a maestria de quem lhe houvesse curado, não deixaria de ter o rosto e todo o corpo cheio de cicatrizes e sinais. Mas, apesar de tudo, louvava no autor aquele final de seu livro com a promessa daquela interminável aventura; e muitas vezes lhe veio o desejo de tomar-lhe a pena e finalizá-la literalmente, como ali se promete, e sem dúvida o faria, e ainda fugiria com ele, se maiores e contínuos pensamentos não o estorvassem. Teve muitas vezes discussões com o vigário do seu povoado – que era homem de sabedoria, graduado em Siguenza – sobre qual tinha sido o melhor cavaleiro: Palmeirim da Inglaterra, ou Amadis de Gaula, mas mestre Nicolas, barbeiro da mesma aldeia, dizia que nenhum atingiu o Cavaleiro do Febo, e que se alguém podia ser comparado a ele era Galaor, irmão de Amadis de Gaula, porque era estável em tudo; não era cavaleiro melindroso, nem tão chorão como seu irmão, e que em valentia não lhe ficava atrás.

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Over conceits of this sort the poor gentleman lost his wits, and used to lie awake striving to understand them and worm the meaning out of them; what Aristotle himself could not have made out or extracted had he come to life again for that special purpose. He was not at all easy about the wounds which Don Belianis gave and took, because it seemed to him that, great as were the surgeons who had cured him, he must have had his face and body covered all over with seams and scars. He commended, however, the author’s way of ending his book with the promise of that interminable adventure, and many a time was he tempted to take up his pen and finish it properly as is there proposed, which no doubt he would have done, and made a successful piece of work of it too, had not greater and more absorbing thoughts prevented him. Many an argument did he have with the curate of his village (a learned man, and a graduate of Siguenza) as to which had been the better knight, Palmerin of England or Amadis of Gaul. Master Nicholas, the village barber, however, used to say that neither of them came up to the Knight of Phoebus, and that if there was any that could compare with him it was Don Galaor, the brother of Amadis of Gaul, because he had a spirit that was equal to every occasion, and was no finikin knight, nor lachrymose like his brother, while in the matter of valour he was not a whit behind him.

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