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To Robert Walpole, Berkeley's plans and hopes would naturally seem about as deserving of the attention and aid of practical men as the ambitions of Don Quixote. The grant promised by the Government was never sent out, and in 1731 Berkeley came back to England.

Here too was a church with a flamboyant Jesuit façade and an interior redolent of Spanish Catholicism. She seemed to me a heroine, a solid Spanish person, as perfect a reality as Don Quixote or St. Theresa. She was dressed in an extraordinary splendor of laces, brocades, and jewels, her coiffure and complexion were of the finest, and she evidently would answer to her name if you spoke to her.

Also in a private letter from Lope de Vega to his patron, the Duke of Sessa, there is a malignant allusion to Cervantes, speaking of poets. "There is none so bad as Cervantes, and none so foolish as to praise Don Quixote." The letter is dated August 4, 1604. That seems to have been the usual period for which a book was licensed in that age.

But the dinner had not even begun when Sancho unloosened his tongue and began with his proverbs, much to the distress and mortification of his master, although to the great enjoyment of the Duchess. Sancho had been standing by Don Quixote, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at everything that was taking place, for he had never in his life seen anything so sumptuous and ceremonious.

"It is easy to see," replied Don Quixote, "that thou art not used to this business of adventures; those are giants; and if thou art afraid, away with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer while I engage them in fierce and unequal combat."

"Let him have them, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "not to catch the ape, but to get drunk; and two hundred would I give this minute for the good news, to anyone who could tell me positively, that the lady Dona Melisandra and Senor Don Gaiferos were now in France and with their own people."

Don Quixote could not help laughing at his squire's simplicity, and he assured him he might complain whenever and however he chose, just as he liked, for, so far, he had never read of anything to the contrary in the order of knighthood. Sancho bade him remember it was dinner-time, to which his master answered that he wanted nothing himself just then, but that he might eat when he had a mind.

The curate and the canon went to the cage, and Don Quixote swore as a knight that he would not run away, whereupon they untied his hands and feet. The first thing Don Quixote did was to go to his Rocinante; and then the canon thought he would try to talk sense into him, to see whether he could not persuade him to give up his crazy notions and ideas.

The innkeeper, enraged to see the havoc, flew at Don Quixote with his fists; and had not Cardenio and the curate taken him off, he had proved a giant indeed against the knight. All this could not wake the poor knight, till the barber, throwing a bucket of cold water on him, wakened him from his sleep, though not from his dream.

Don Quixote was standing by at the time, highly pleased to see his squire's stoutness, both offensive and defensive, and from that time forth he reckoned him a man of mettle, and in his heart resolved to dub him a knight on the first opportunity that presented itself, feeling sure that the order of chivalry would be fittingly bestowed upon him.