Quixote, “that the same bachelor or beneficiary is a greater friend of Camacho’s than of Basilio’s, and that he is better at satire than at vespers; he has introduced the accomplishments of Basilio and the riches of Camacho very neatly into the dance.” Sancho Panza, who was listening to all this, exclaimed, “The king is my cock; I stick to Camacho.”
“It is easy to see thou art a clown, Sancho,” said Don Quixote, “and one of that sort that cry ‘Long life to the conqueror.’ ”
“I don’t know of what sort I am,” returned Sancho, “but I know very well I’ll never get such elegant skimmings off Basilio’s pots as these I have got off Camacho’s;” and he showed him the bucketful of geese and hens, and seizing one began to eat with great gaiety and appetite, saying, “A fig for the accomplishments of Basilio! As much as thou hast so much art thou worth, and as much as thou art worth so much hast thou. As a grandmother of mine used to say, there are only two families in the world, the Haves and the Haven’ts; and she stuck to the Haves; and to this day, Señor Don Quixote, people would sooner feel the pulse of ‘Have,’ than of ‘Know;’ an ass covered with gold looks better than a horse with a packsaddle. So once more I say I stick to Camacho, the bountiful skimmings of whose pots are geese and hens, hares and rabbits; but of Basilio’s, if any ever come to hand, or even to foot, they’ll be only rinsings.”
“Hast thou finished thy harangue, Sancho?” said Don Quixote. “Of course I have finished it,” replied Sancho, “because I see your worship takes offence at it; but if it was not for that, there was work enough cut out for three days.”
“God grant I may see thee dumb before I die, Sancho,” said Don Quixote.
“At the rate we are going,” said Sancho, “I’ll be chewing clay before your worship dies; and then, maybe, I’ll be so dumb that I’ll not say a word until the end of the world, or, at least, till the day of judgment.”