not that they are unworthy of it, but
because they do not care to accept books and incur the obligation of
making the return that seems due to the author's labour and courtesy. One
prince I know who makes up for all the rest, and more-how much more, if I
ventured to say, perhaps I should stir up envy in many a noble breast;
but let this stand over for some more convenient time, and let us go and
look for some place to shelter ourselves in to-night."

"Not far from this," said the cousin, "there is a hermitage, where there
lives a hermit, who they say was a soldier, and who has the reputation of
being a good Christian and a very intelligent and charitable man. Close
to the hermitage he has a small house which he built at his own cost, but
though small it is large enough for the reception of guests."

"Has this hermit any hens, do you think?" asked Sancho.

"Few hermits are without them," said Don Quixote; "for those we see
now-a-days are not like the hermits of the Egyptian deserts who were clad
in palm-leaves, and lived on the roots of the earth. But do not think
that by praising these I am disparaging the others; all I mean to say is
that the penances of those of the present day do not come up to the
asceticism and austerity of former times; but it does not follow from
this that they are not all worthy; at least I think them so; and at the
worst the hypocrite who pretends to be good does less harm than the open
sinner."

At this point they saw approaching the spot where they stood a man on
foot, proceeding at a rapid pace, and beating a mule loaded with lances
and halberds. When he came up to them, he saluted them and passed on
without stopping. Don Quixote called to him, "Stay, good fellow; you seem
to be making more haste than suits that mule."

"I cannot stop, senor," answered the man; "for the arms you see I carry
here are to be used tomorrow, so I must not delay; God be with you. But
if you want to know what I am carrying them for, I mean to lodge to-night
at the inn that is beyond the hermitage, and if you be going the same
road you will find me there, and I will tell you some curious things;
once more God be with you;" and he urged on his mule at such a pace that
Don Quixote had no time to ask him what these curious things were that he
meant to tell them; and as he was somewhat inquisitive, and always
tortured by his anxiety to learn something new, he decided to set out at
once, and go and pass the night at