father the Sun!"

As Sancho heard the voices, clinging tightly to his master and winding
his arms round him, he said, "Senor, how do they make out we are going up
so high, if their voices reach us here and they seem to be speaking quite
close to us?"

"Don't mind that, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for as affairs of this
sort, and flights like this are out of the common course of things, you
can see and hear as much as you like a thousand leagues off; but don't
squeeze me so tight or thou wilt upset me; and really I know not what
thou hast to be uneasy or frightened at, for I can safely swear I never
mounted a smoother-going steed all the days of my life; one would fancy
we never stirred from one place. Banish fear, my friend, for indeed
everything is going as it ought, and we have the wind astern."

"That's true," said Sancho, "for such a strong wind comes against me on
this side, that it seems as if people were blowing on me with a thousand
pair of bellows;" which was the case; they were puffing at him with a
great pair of bellows; for the whole adventure was so well planned by the
duke, the duchess, and their majordomo, that nothing was omitted to make
it perfectly successful.

Don Quixote now, feeling the blast, said, "Beyond a doubt, Sancho, we
must have already reached the second region of the air, where the hail
and snow are generated; the thunder, the lightning, and the thunderbolts
are engendered in the third region, and if we go on ascending at this
rate, we shall shortly plunge into the region of fire, and I know not how
to regulate this peg, so as not to mount up where we shall be burned."

And now they began to warm their faces, from a distance, with tow that
could be easily set on fire and extinguished again, fixed on the end of a
cane. On feeling the heat Sancho said, "May I die if we are not already
in that fire place, or very near it, for a good part of my beard has been
singed, and I have a mind, senor, to uncover and see whereabouts we are."

"Do nothing of the kind," said Don Quixote; "remember the true story of
the licentiate Torralva that the devils carried flying through the air
riding on a stick with his eyes shut; who in twelve hours reached Rome
and dismounted at Torre di Nona, which is a street of the city, and saw
the whole sack and storming and the death of Bourbon, and was back in
Madrid the next morning, where he gave an account of all he had seen; and
he said moreover that as he was go