in thee, and
therefore I would have thee learn to write, even if it were only thy
name."

"That I can do already," quoth Sancho; "for when I was steward of the
brotherhood in our village, I learned to make certain marks like those
upon wool-packs, which they told me, stood for my name. But, at the
worst, I can feign a lameness in my right hand, and get another to sign
for me: there is a remedy for every thing but death; and, having the
staff in my hand, I can do what I please. Besides, as your worship
knows, he whose father is mayor[12]--and I, being governor, am, I trow,
something more than mayor.

"Ay, ay, let them come that list, and play at bo-peep--ay, fleer and
backbite me; but they may come for wool and go back shorn: 'His home is
savory whom God loves;'--besides, 'The rich man's blunders pass current
for wise maxims;' so that I, being a governor, and therefore wealthy,
and bountiful to boot--as I intend to be--nobody will see any blemish in
me. No, no, let the clown daub himself with honey, and he will never
want flies. 'As much as you have, just so much you are worth,' said my
grandam; revenge yourself upon the rich who can."

"Heaven confound thee!" exclaimed Don Quixote; "sixty thousand devils
take thee and thy proverbs! This hour, or more, thou hast been stringing
thy musty wares, poisoning and torturing me without mercy. Take my word
for it, these proverbs will one day bring thee to the gallows;--they
will surely provoke thy people to rebellion! Where dost thou find them?
How shouldst thou apply them, idiot? for I toil and sweat as if I were
delving the ground to utter but one, and apply it properly."

"Before Heaven, master of mine," replied Sancho, "your worship complains
of very trifles. Why, in the devil's name, are you angry that I make use
of my own goods? for other stock I have none, nor any stock but proverbs
upon proverbs; and just now I have four ready to pop out, all pat and
fitting as pears in a pannier--but I am dumb: Silence is my name."[13]

"Then art thou vilely miscalled," quoth Don Quixote, "being an eternal
babbler. Nevertheless, I would fain know these four proverbs that come
so pat to the purpose; for I have been rummaging my own memory, which is
no bad one, but for the soul of me, I can find none."

"Can there be better," quoth Sancho, "than--'Never venture your fingers
between two eye-teeth;' and with 'Get out of my house--what would you
have with my wife?' there is no arguing;