Of the bristled adventure which befell Don Quixote.
THE night was somewhat dark, though the moon was in the heavens, but not in a part where she could be seen; for sometimes Señora Diana takes a trip to the antipodes, and leaves the mountains black, and the valleys in the dark. Don Quixote gave way to nature, taking his first sleep, without giving place to a second; quite the reverse of Sancho, who never had a second, one sleep lasting him from night to morning; an evident sign of his good constitution, and few cares. Those of Don Quixote kept him so awake, that he awakened Sancho, and said:
'I am amazed, Sancho, at the insensibility of your temper; you seem to me to be made of marble, or brass, not susceptible of any emotion or sentiment: I wake, while you sleep; I weep, when you are singing; I am fainting with hunger, while you are lazy and unwieldy with pure cramming: it is the part of good servants to share in their masters' pains, and to be touched with what affects them, were it but for the sake of decency. Behold the serenity of the night, and the solitude we are in, inviting us, as it were, to intermingle some watching with our sleep. Get up, by your life, and go a little apart from hence, and, with a willing mind and a good courage, give yourself three or four hundred lashes, upon account, for the disenchantment of Dulcinea: and this I ask as a favour; for I will not come to wrestling with you again, as I did before, because I know the weight of your arms. After you have laid them on, we will pass the remainder of the night in singing, I my absence and you your constancy, beginning from this moment our pastoral employment, which we are to follow in our village.'
'Sir,' answered Sancho, 'I am of no religious order, to rise out of the midst of my sleep, and discipline myself; neither do I think one can pass from the pain of whipping to music. Suffer me to sleep, and urge not this whipping myself; lest you force me to swear never to touch a hair of my coat, much less of my flesh.'
'O hardened soul!' cried Don Quixote; 'O remorseless squire! O bread ill employed, and favours ill considered, those I have already bestowed upon you, and those I still intend to bestow upon you! To me you owe, that you have been a governor; and to me you owe, that