with great eagerness; and here let us leave the good
Sancho; for his master, sorely troubled in mind by Altisidora's music,
has pressing claims upon us now.

CHAPTER XLVI.

OF THE TERRIBLE BELL AND CAT FRIGHT THAT DON QUIXOTE GOT IN THE COURSE OF
THE ENAMOURED ALTISIDORA'S WOOING

We left Don Quixote wrapped up in the reflections which the music of the
enamourned maid Altisidora had given rise to. He went to bed with them,
and just like fleas they would not let him sleep or get a moment's rest,
and the broken stitches of his stockings helped them. But as Time is
fleet and no obstacle can stay his course, he came riding on the hours,
and morning very soon arrived. Seeing which Don Quixote quitted the soft
down, and, nowise slothful, dressed himself in his chamois suit and put
on his travelling boots to hide the disaster to his stockings. He threw
over him his scarlet mantle, put on his head a montera of green velvet
trimmed with silver edging, flung across his shoulder the baldric with
his good trenchant sword, took up a large rosary that he always carried
with him, and with great solemnity and precision of gait proceeded to the
antechamber where the duke and duchess were already dressed and waiting
for him. But as he passed through a gallery, Altisidora and the other
damsel, her friend, were lying in wait for him, and the instant
Altisidora saw him she pretended to faint, while her friend caught her in
her lap, and began hastily unlacing the bosom of her dress.

Don Quixote observed it, and approaching them said, "I know very well
what this seizure arises from."

"I know not from what," replied the friend, "for Altisidora is the
healthiest damsel in all this house, and I have never heard her complain
all the time I have known her. A plague on all the knights-errant in the
world, if they be all ungrateful! Go away, Senor Don Quixote; for this
poor child will not come to herself again so long as you are here."

To which Don Quixote returned, "Do me the favour, senora, to let a lute
be placed in my chamber to-night; and I will comfort this poor maiden to
the best of my power; for in the early stages of love a prompt
disillusion is an approved remedy;" and with this he retired, so as not
to be remarked by any who might see him there.

He had scarcely withdrawn when Altisidora, recovering from her swoon,
said to her companion, "The lute must be left, for no doubt Don Quixote
intends to give us some music; and