that in our
age and in these so evil days devoted himself to the labour and exercise
of the arms of knight-errantry, righting wrongs, succouring widows, and
protecting damsels of that sort that used to ride about, whip in hand, on
their palfreys, with all their virginity about them, from mountain to
mountain and valley to valley--for, if it were not for some ruffian, or
boor with a hood and hatchet, or monstrous giant, that forced them, there
were in days of yore damsels that at the end of eighty years, in all
which time they had never slept a day under a roof, went to their graves
as much maids as the mothers that bore them. I say, then, that in these
and other respects our gallant Don Quixote is worthy of everlasting and
notable praise, nor should it be withheld even from me for the labour and
pains spent in searching for the conclusion of this delightful history;
though I know well that if Heaven, chance and good fortune had not helped
me, the world would have remained deprived of an entertainment and
pleasure that for a couple of hours or so may well occupy him who shall
read it attentively. The discovery of it occurred in this way.

One day, as I was in the Alcana of Toledo, a boy came up to sell some
pamphlets and old papers to a silk mercer, and, as I am fond of reading
even the very scraps of paper in the streets, led by this natural bent of
mine I took up one of the pamphlets the boy had for sale, and saw that it
was in characters which I recognised as Arabic, and as I was unable to
read them though I could recognise them, I looked about to see if there
were any Spanish-speaking Morisco at hand to read them for me; nor was
there any great difficulty in finding such an interpreter, for even had I
sought one for an older and better language I should have found him. In
short, chance provided me with one, who when I told him what I wanted and
put the book into his hands, opened it in the middle and after reading a
little in it began to laugh. I asked him what he was laughing at, and he
replied that it was at something the book had written in the margin by
way of a note. I bade him tell it to me; and he still laughing said, "In
the margin, as I told you, this is written: 'This Dulcinea del Toboso so
often mentioned in this history, had, they say, the best hand of any
woman in all La Mancha for salting pigs.'"

When I heard Dulcinea del Toboso named, I was struck with surprise and
amazement, for it occurred to me at