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"Why," said Sancho, "if by some such miracle as your worship speaks of, I am made a King, then would my wife be Queen?" "Certainly," answered Don Quixote, "who can doubt it?" "I doubt it," replied Sancho, "for I think if it should rain kingdoms upon the face of the earth, not one of them would sit well on my wife's head. For I must tell you, sir, she's not worth two brass jacks to make a Queen of.
"What!" said Don Quixote, with a smile, "lion whelps against me! Against me those puny beasts! And at this time of day? Well, I will make those gentlemen that sent their lions this way know whether I am a man to be scared with lions.
My departed friend compelled him in the first place to tell, that he was Don Quixote, known as the hero in the celebrated Spanish romance or fable called Don Quixote. A similar fiction was also the speech of the demon by whom that medium was possessed, only that those who do not know me, might take the calumny of the devil for truth.
And when he had asked about himself again and again, and had been satisfied by the replies of Samson, he found it was nearly dinner time. Sancho took a hurried leave, fearing the wrath of his wife if he were late for his meal, and Don Quixote asked the bachelor to stay and keep him company. All the while they were eating, Don Quixote entertained his guest with tales of chivalry.
It won't do for the curate to have a shepherdess, for the sake of good example; and if the bachelor chooses to have one, that is his look-out." "God bless me, Sancho my friend!" said Don Quixote, "what a life we shall lead! What hautboys and Zamora bagpipes we shall hear, what tabors, timbrels, and rebecks!
Come, Senor Don Quixote, have some compassion for yourself, return to the bosom of common sense, and make use of the liberal share of it that heaven has been pleased to bestow upon you, employing your abundant gifts of mind in some other reading that may serve to benefit your conscience and add to your honour.
Here the goatherd brought his song to an end, and though Don Quixote entreated him to sing more, Sancho had no mind that way, being more inclined for sleep than for listening to songs; so said he to his master, "Your worship will do well to settle at once where you mean to pass the night, for the labour these good men are at all day does not allow them to spend the night in singing."
But let us leave Sancho in his wrath, and peace be with them all; and let us return to Don Quixote, whom we left with his face bandaged and doctored after the cat wounds, of which he was not cured for eight days; and on one of these there befell him what Cide Hamete promises to relate with that exactitude and truth with which he is wont to set forth everything connected with this great history, however minute it may be.
"You've got a likely one here to thrust any in!" said Sancho; "leave me alone for that! Why, this is not the first time in my life I have carried messages to high and exalted ladies." "Except that thou didst carry to the lady Dulcinea," said Don Quixote, "I know not that thou hast carried any other, at least in my service."
In his second period we get the Decameron series, the episodes from Faust, the Don Quixote recall, if you can, that glorious tableau with its Spanish group and the long, grave don and merry, rotund squire entering on the scene, a fantastic sky behind them. Painted music! The ruins, fountains, statues, and mellow herbage abound in this middle period. The third is less known.
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