d Don Quixote, "to scorn the one
that loves them, and love the one that hates them: go on, Sancho."

"It came to pass," said Sancho, "that the shepherd carried out his
intention, and driving his goats before him took his way across the
plains of Estremadura to pass over into the Kingdom of Portugal.
Torralva, who knew of it, went after him, and on foot and barefoot
followed him at a distance, with a pilgrim's staff in her hand and a
scrip round her neck, in which she carried, it is said, a bit of
looking-glass and a piece of a comb and some little pot or other of paint
for her face; but let her carry what she did, I am not going to trouble
myself to prove it; all I say is, that the shepherd, they say, came with
his flock to cross over the river Guadiana, which was at that time
swollen and almost overflowing its banks, and at the spot he came to
there was neither ferry nor boat nor anyone to carry him or his flock to
the other side, at which he was much vexed, for he perceived that
Torralva was approaching and would give him great annoyance with her
tears and entreaties; however, he went looking about so closely that he
discovered a fisherman who had alongside of him a boat so small that it
could only hold one person and one goat; but for all that he spoke to him
and agreed with him to carry himself and his three hundred goats across.
The fisherman got into the boat and carried one goat over; he came back
and carried another over; he came back again, and again brought over
another--let your worship keep count of the goats the fisherman is taking
across, for if one escapes the memory there will be an end of the story,
and it will be impossible to tell another word of it. To proceed, I must
tell you the landing place on the other side was miry and slippery, and
the fisherman lost a great deal of time in going and coming; still he
returned for another goat, and another, and another."

"Take it for granted he brought them all across," said Don Quixote, "and
don't keep going and coming in this way, or thou wilt not make an end of
bringing them over this twelvemonth."

"How many have gone across so far?" said Sancho.

"How the devil do I know?" replied Don Quixote.

"There it is," said Sancho, "what I told you, that you must keep a good
count; well then, by God, there is an end of the story, for there is no
going any farther."

"How can that be?" said Don Quixote; "is it so essential to the story to
know to a nicety the