“There’s another thing I’d like,” said the farmer, “but I’m afraid to mention it; however, out it must; for after all I can’t let it be rotting in my breast, come what may. I mean, señor, that I’d like your worship to give me three hundred or six hundred ducats as a help to my bachelor’s portion, to help him in setting up house; for they must, in short, live by themselves, without being subject to the interferences of their fathers-in-law.”

“Just see if there’s anything else you’d like,” said Sancho, “and don’t hold back from mentioning it out of bashfulness or modesty.”

“No, indeed there is not,” said the farmer.