show the goodness of its make."

"So far so good," quoth Sancho; "and now, brother, make account that you
have painted her from head to foot. What is it you would be at? Come to
the point without so many windings and turnings, so many fetches and
digressions."

"What I desire, my lord," answered the countryman, "is, that your
lordship would do me the favor to give me a letter of recommendation to
her father, begging his consent to the match, since we are pretty equal
in our fortunes and natural endowments; for, to say the truth, my lord
governor, my son is possessed, and scarcely a day passes in which the
evil spirits do not torment him three or four times; and having thereby
once fallen into the fire, his face is as shrivelled as a piece of
scorched parchment, and his eyes are somewhat bleared and running; but,
bless him! he has the temper of an angel, and did he not buffet and
belabor himself, he would be a very saint for gentleness."

"Would you have anything else, honest friend?" said Sancho.

"One thing more I would ask," quoth the peasant, "but I dare not,--yet
out it shall; come what may, it shall not rot in my breast. I say then,
my lord, I could wish your worship to give me three or six hundred
ducats towards mending the fortunes of my bachelor,--I mean, to assist
in furnishing his house; for it is agreed that they shall live by
themselves, without being subject to the impertinences of their
fathers-in-law."

"Well," quoth Sancho, "see if there is anything else you would have, and
be not squeamish in asking."

"No, nothing more," answered the peasant.

The governor then rising, and seizing the chair on which he had been
seated, exclaimed, "I vow to Heaven, Don Lubberly, saucy bumpkin, if you
do not instantly get out of my sight, I will break your head with this
chair! Son of a rascal, and the devil's own painter! At this time of day
to come and ask me for six hundred ducats! Where should I have them,
villain? And if I had them, idiot! why should I give them to thee? What
care I for Miguel Terra, or for the whole race of the Perlerinos?
Begone, I say! or, by the life of my lord duke, I will be as good as my
word. Thou art no native of Miguel Terra, but some scoffer sent from the
devil to tempt me. Impudent scoundrel! I have not yet had the government
a day and a half, and you expect I should have six hundred ducats!"

The sewer made signs to the countryman to go out of the hall, which he
did, hanging do