may command; and mind, Sancho, how thou speakest, and take care not to thrust in any of thy proverbs into thy message.”
“You’ve got a likely one here to thrust any in!” said Sancho; “leave me alone for that! Why, this is not the first time in my life I have carried messages to high and exalted ladies.”
“Except that thou didst carry to the lady Dulcinea,” said Don Quixote, “I know not that thou hast carried any other, at least in my service.”
“That is true,” replied Sancho; “but pledges don’t distress a good payer, and in a house where there’s plenty supper is soon cooked; I mean there’s no need of telling or warning me about anything; for I’m ready for everything and know a little of everything.”
“That I believe, Sancho,” said Don Quixote; “go and good luck to thee, and God speed thee.”
Sancho went off at top speed, forcing Dapple out of his regular pace, and came to where the fair huntress was standing, and dismounting knelt before her and said, “Fair lady, that knight that you see there, the Knight of the Lions by name, is my master, and I am a squire of his, and at home they call me Sancho Panza. This same Knight of the Lions, who was called not long since the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, sends by me to say may it please your highness to give him leave that, with your permission, approbation, and consent, he may come and carry out his wishes, which are, as he says and I believe, to serve your exalted loftiness and beauty; and if you give it, your ladyship will do a thing which will redound to your honour, and he will receive a most distinguished favour and happiness.”
“You have indeed, squire,” said the lady, “delivered your message with all the formalities such messages require; rise up, for it is not right that the squire of a knight so great as he of the Rueful Countenance, of whom