“She might have died and welcome,” said Sancho, “when she pleased and how she pleased; and she might have left me alone, for I never made her fall in love or scorned her. I don’t know nor can I imagine how the recovery of Altisidora, a damsel more fanciful than wise, can have, as I have said before, anything to do with the sufferings of Sancho Panza. Now I begin to see plainly and clearly that there are enchanters and enchanted people in the world; and may God deliver me from them, since I can’t deliver myself; and so I beg of your worship to let me sleep and not ask me any more questions, unless you want me to throw myself out of the window.”

“Sleep, Sancho my friend,” said Don Quixote, “if the pinprodding and pinches thou hast received and the smacks administered to thee will let thee.”

“No pain came up to the insult of the smacks,” said Sancho, “for the simple reason that it was duennas, confound them, that gave them to me; but once more I entreat your worship to let me sleep, for sleep is relief from misery to those who are miserable when awake.”

“Be it so, and God be with thee,” said Don Quixote.