ching fine sermons."
"He preaches well who lives well," said Sancho, "and I know no more
theology than that."
"Nor needst thou," said Don Quixote, "but I cannot conceive or make out
how it is that, the fear of God being the beginning of wisdom, thou, who
art more afraid of a lizard than of him, knowest so much."
"Pass judgment on your chivalries, senor," returned Sancho, "and don't
set yourself up to judge of other men's fears or braveries, for I am as
good a fearer of God as my neighbours; but leave me to despatch these
skimmings, for all the rest is only idle talk that we shall be called to
account for in the other world;" and so saying, he began a fresh attack
on the bucket, with such a hearty appetite that he aroused Don Quixote's,
who no doubt would have helped him had he not been prevented by what must
be told farther on.
CHAPTER XXI.
IN WHICH CAMACHO'S WEDDING IS CONTINUED, WITH OTHER DELIGHTFUL INCIDENTS
While Don Quixote and Sancho were engaged in the discussion set forth the
last chapter, they heard loud shouts and a great noise, which were
uttered and made by the men on the mares as they went at full gallop,
shouting, to receive the bride and bridegroom, who were approaching with
musical instruments and pageantry of all sorts around them, and
accompanied by the priest and the relatives of both, and all the most
distinguished people of the surrounding villages. When Sancho saw the
bride, he exclaimed, "By my faith, she is not dressed like a country
girl, but like some fine court lady; egad, as well as I can make out, the
patena she wears rich coral, and her green Cuenca stuff is thirty-pile
velvet; and then the white linen trimming--by my oath, but it's satin!
Look at her hands--jet rings on them! May I never have luck if they're
not gold rings, and real gold, and set with pearls as white as a curdled
milk, and every one of them worth an eye of one's head! Whoreson baggage,
what hair she has! if it's not a wig, I never saw longer or fairer all
the days of my life. See how bravely she bears herself--and her shape!
Wouldn't you say she was like a walking palm tree loaded with clusters of
dates? for the trinkets she has hanging from her hair and neck look just
like them. I swear in my heart she is a brave lass, and fit 'to pass over
the banks of Flanders.'"
Don Quixote laughed at Sancho's boorish eulogies and thought that, saving
his lady Dulcinea del Toboso, he had never seen a more beautiful
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