Of the pleasant conversation which passed between Don Quixote, Sancho Panza, and the bachelor Sampson Carrasco.
DON QUIXOTE remained over and above thoughtful, expecting the coming of the bachelor Carrasco, from whom he hoped to hear some accounts of himself, printed in a book, as Sancho had told him; and could not persuade himself, that such a history could be extant, since the blood of the enemies he had slain was still reeking on his swordblade; and could people expect his high feats of arms should be already in print? However, at last he concluded that some sage, either friend or enemy, by art-magic, had sent them to the press: if a friend, to aggrandize and extol them above the most signal achievements of any knight-errant; if an enemy, to annihilate and sink them below the meanest that ever were written of any squire: although (quoth he to himself) the feats of squires never were written. But if it should prove true that such a history was really extant, since it was the history of a knight-errant, it must of necessity be sublime, lofty, illustrious, magnificent, and true.
This thought afforded him some comfort: but he lost it again upon considering that the author was a Moor, as was plain from the name of Cid, and that no truth could be expected from the Moors, who were all impostors, liars, and visionaries. He was apprehensive, he might treat of his love with some indecency, which might redound to the disparagement and prejudice of the modesty of his lady Dulcinea del Toboso. He wished he might find a faithful representation of his own constancy, and the decorum he had always inviolably preserved towards her, slighting, for her sake, queens, empresses, and damsels of all degrees, and bridling the violent impulses of natural desire. Tossed and perplexed with these and a thousand other imaginations, Sancho and Carrasco found him: and Don Quixote received the bachelor with much courtesy.
This bachelor, though his name was Sampson, was none of the biggest, but an arch wag; of a wan complexion, but of a very good understanding. He was about twenty-four years of age, round-faced, flatnosed, and wide-mouthed; all signs of his being of a waggish disposition, and a lover of wit and humour; as he made appear at