At this instant a page entered saying, “Here is a farmer on business, who wants to speak to your lordship on a matter of great importance, he says.”
“It’s very odd,” said Sancho, “the ways of these men on business; is it possible they can be such fools as not to see that an hour like this is no hour for coming on business? We who govern and we who are judges—are we not men of flesh and blood, and are we not to be allowed the time required for taking rest, unless they’d have us made of marble? By God and on my conscience, if the government remains in my hands (which I have a notion it won’t), I’ll bring more than one man on business to order. However, tell this good man to come in; but take care first of all that he is not some spy or one of my assassins.”
“No, my lord,” said the page, “for he looks like a simple fellow, and either I know very little or he is as good as good bread.”
“There is nothing to be afraid of,” said the majordomo, “for we are all here.”
“Would it be possible, carver,” said Sancho, “now that Doctor Pedro Recio is not here, to let me eat something solid and substantial, if it were even a piece of bread and an onion?”
“Tonight at supper,” said the carver, “the shortcomings of the dinner shall be made good, and your lordship shall be fully contented.”
“God grant it,” said Sancho.
The farmer now came in, a well-favoured man that one might see a thousand leagues off was an honest fellow and a good soul. The first thing he said was, “Which is the lord governor here?”