trappings and ornaments of silk, and from time
to time Sancho turned round to look at his ass, so well pleased to have
him with him that he would not have changed places with the emperor of
Germany. On taking leave he kissed the hands of the duke and duchess and
got his master's blessing, which Don Quixote gave him with tears, and he
received blubbering.

Let worthy Sancho go in peace, and good luck to him, Gentle Reader; and
look out for two bushels of laughter, which the account of how he behaved
himself in office will give thee. In the meantime turn thy attention to
what happened his master the same night, and if thou dost not laugh
thereat, at any rate thou wilt stretch thy mouth with a grin; for Don
Quixote's adventures must be honoured either with wonder or with
laughter.

It is recorded, then, that as soon as Sancho had gone, Don Quixote felt
his loneliness, and had it been possible for him to revoke the mandate
and take away the government from him he would have done so. The duchess
observed his dejection and asked him why he was melancholy; because, she
said, if it was for the loss of Sancho, there were squires, duennas, and
damsels in her house who would wait upon him to his full satisfaction.

"The truth is, senora," replied Don Quixote, "that I do feel the loss of
Sancho; but that is not the main cause of my looking sad; and of all the
offers your excellence makes me, I accept only the good-will with which
they are made, and as to the remainder I entreat of your excellence to
permit and allow me alone to wait upon myself in my chamber."

"Indeed, Senor Don Quixote," said the duchess, "that must not be; four of
my damsels, as beautiful as flowers, shall wait upon you."

"To me," said Don Quixote, "they will not be flowers, but thorns to
pierce my heart. They, or anything like them, shall as soon enter my
chamber as fly. If your highness wishes to gratify me still further,
though I deserve it not, permit me to please myself, and wait upon myself
in my own room; for I place a barrier between my inclinations and my
virtue, and I do not wish to break this rule through the generosity your
highness is disposed to display towards me; and, in short, I will sleep
in my clothes, sooner than allow anyone to undress me."

"Say no more, Senor Don Quixote, say no more," said the duchess; "I
assure you I will give orders that not even a fly, not to say a damsel,
shall enter your room. I am not the one to undermine the