“That is true,” said he of the Rueful Countenance, “but how shall we manage to write the letter?”
“And the ass-colt order too,” added Sancho.
“All shall be included,” said Don Quixote;
“and as there is no paper, it would be well done to write it on the leaves of trees, as the ancients did, or on tablets of wax; though that would be as hard to find just now as paper. But it has just occurred to me how it may be conveniently and even more than conveniently written, and that is in the notebook that belonged to Cardenio, and thou wilt take care to have it copied on paper, in a good hand, at the first village thou comest to where there is a schoolmaster, or if not, any sacristan will copy it; but see thou give it not to any notary to copy, for they write a law hand that Satan could not make out.”
“But what is to be done about the signature?” said Sancho.
“The letters of Amadís were never signed,” said Don Quixote.
“That is all very well,” said Sancho, “but the order must needs be signed, and if it is copied they will say the signature is false, and I shall be left without ass-colts.”
“The order shall go signed in the same book,” said Don Quixote, “and on seeing it my niece will make no difficulty about obeying it; as to the love letter thou canst put by way of signature, ‘Yours till death, the Knight of the Rueful Countenance.’ And it will be no great matter if it is in some other person’s hand, for as well as I recollect Dulcinea can