in any respect or not as precise as I ought, let it be accounted for by what the licentiate said at the beginning of my tale, that constant and excessive troubles deprive the sufferers of their memory.”
“They shall not deprive me of mine, exalted and worthy princess,” said Don Quixote, “however great and unexampled those which I shall endure in your service may be; and here I confirm anew the boon I have promised you, and I swear to go with you to the end of the world until I find myself in the presence of your fierce enemy, whose haughty head I trust by the aid of my arm to cut off with the edge of this—I will not say good sword, thanks to Ginés de Pasamonte who carried away mine”—(this he said between his teeth, and then continued), “and when it has been cut off and you have been put in peaceful possession of your realm it shall be left to your own decision to dispose of your person as may be most pleasing to you; for so long as my memory is occupied, my will enslaved, and my understanding enthralled by her—I say no more—it is impossible for me for a moment to contemplate marriage, even with a Phoenix.”