ey, Senor Don Quixote," replied
the courier; "he who refused to fight your worship about marrying the
daughter of Dona Rodriguez."
"God bless me!" exclaimed Don Quixote; "is it possible that you are the
one whom mine enemies the enchanters changed into the lacquey you speak
of in order to rob me of the honour of that battle?"
"Nonsense, good sir!" said the messenger; "there was no enchantment or
transformation at all; I entered the lists just as much lacquey Tosilos
as I came out of them lacquey Tosilos. I thought to marry without
fighting, for the girl had taken my fancy; but my scheme had a very
different result, for as soon as your worship had left the castle my lord
the duke had a hundred strokes of the stick given me for having acted
contrary to the orders he gave me before engaging in the combat; and the
end of the whole affair is that the girl has become a nun, and Dona
Rodriguez has gone back to Castile, and I am now on my way to Barcelona
with a packet of letters for the viceroy which my master is sending him.
If your worship would like a drop, sound though warm, I have a gourd here
full of the best, and some scraps of Tronchon cheese that will serve as a
provocative and wakener of your thirst if so be it is asleep."
"I take the offer," said Sancho; "no more compliments about it; pour out,
good Tosilos, in spite of all the enchanters in the Indies."
"Thou art indeed the greatest glutton in the world, Sancho," said Don
Quixote, "and the greatest booby on earth, not to be able to see that
this courier is enchanted and this Tosilos a sham one; stop with him and
take thy fill; I will go on slowly and wait for thee to come up with me."
The lacquey laughed, unsheathed his gourd, unwalletted his scraps, and
taking out a small loaf of bread he and Sancho seated themselves on the
green grass, and in peace and good fellowship finished off the contents
of the alforjas down to the bottom, so resolutely that they licked the
wrapper of the letters, merely because it smelt of cheese.
Said Tosilos to Sancho, "Beyond a doubt, Sancho my friend, this master of
thine ought to be a madman."
"Ought!" said Sancho; "he owes no man anything; he pays for everything,
particularly when the coin is madness. I see it plain enough, and I tell
him so plain enough; but what's the use? especially now that it is all
over with him, for here he is beaten by the Knight of the White Moon."
Tosilos begged him to explain what had happen
|