Behold how Heaven, moved by my tears and
prayers, has ordained that Rosinante cannot go,' and then
warned him not to set Providence at defiance. Still Sancho
was much too frightened by the infernal clatter to relax his
hold of the knight's saddle. For some time he strove to
beguile his own fears with a very long story about the
goatherd Lope Ruiz, who was in love with the shepherdess
Torralva - 'a jolly, strapping wench, a little scornful, and
somewhat masculine.' Now, whether owing to the cold of the
morning, which was at hand, or whether to some lenitive diet
on which he had supped, it so befell that Sancho . . . what
nobody could do for him. The truth is, the honest fellow was
overcome by panic, and under no circumstances would, or did,
he for one instant leave his master's side. Nay, when the
knight spurred his steed and found it could not move, Sancho
reminded him that the attempt was useless, since Rosinante
was restrained by enchantment. This the knight readily
admitted, but stoutly protested that he himself was anything
but enchanted by the close proximity of his squire.
We all remember the grave admonitions of Don Quixote, and the
ingenious endeavours of Sancho to lay the blame upon the
knight. But the final words of the Don contain a moral
apposite to so many other important situations, that they
must not be omitted here. 'Apostare, replico Sancho, que
pensa vuestra merced que yo he hecho de mi persona alguna
cosa que no deba.' 'I will lay a wager,' replied Sancho,
'that your worship thinks that I have &c.' The brief, but
memorable, answer was:
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