doubt to find him willing to leave the matter to me, and stand to my verdict in the case, which is to live peaceably and quietly as long as heaven is pleased to let me." "Nay then," said Don Quixote, "if that be thy resolution, good Sancho, prudent Sancho, Christian Sancho, downright Sancho, let us leave these idle apparitions, and proceed in search of more substantial and honorable adventures, of which, in all probability, this part of the world will afford us a wonderful variety." So saying, he wheeled off, and Sancho followed him. On the other side, Death, with all his flying squadron, returned to their cart, and went on their journey.

Thus ended the most dreadful adventure of the chariot of Death, much more happily than could have been expected, thanks to the laudable counsels which Sancho Panza gave his master; who the day following had another adventure no less remarkable, with one that was a knight-errant and a lover, too.

CHAPTER XII.

THE VALOROUS DON QUIXOTE'S STRANGE ADVENTURE WITH THE BOLD KNIGHT OF THE MIRRORS.

DON QUIXOTE passed the night that succeeded his encounter with Death under the covert of some lofty trees; where, at Sancho's persuasion, he refreshed himself with some of the provisions which Dapple carried. As they were at supper, "Well,

sir," quoth the squire, "what a rare fool I had been, had I chosen for my good news the spoils of your first venture, instead of the breed of the three mares! Troth! commend me to the saying, A bird in hand is worth two in the bush." "However," answered Don Quixote, "had'st thou let me fall on, as I would have done, thou mightest have shared at least the emperor's golden crown, and Cupid's painted wings; for I would have plucked them off, and put them into thy power." "Ah, but," says Sancho, "your strolling emperors' crowns and sceptres are not of pure gold, but tinsel and copper." "I grant it," said Don Quixote; "nor is it fit the decorations of the stage should be real, but rather imitations, and the resemblance of realities, as the plays themselves must be; which, by the way, I would have you love and esteem, Sancho, and consequently those that write, and also those that act them; for they are all instrumental to the good of the commonwealth, and set before our eyes those lookingglasses that reflect a lively representation of human life; nothing being able to give us a more just idea of nature, and what we are or ought to be, than comedians and comedies. Prithee tell me, hast thou never seen a play acted, where kings, emperors, prelates, knights, ladies, and other characters, are introduced on the stage? one acts a ruffian, another a soldier; this man a cheat, and that a merchant; one plays a designing fool, and another a foolish lover: but the play done, and the actors undressed, they are all equal, and as they were before." "All this I have seen," quoth Sancho.

"Just such a comedy," said Don Quixote, "is

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acted on the great stage of the world, where some play the emperors, others the prelates, and, in short, all the parts that can be brought into a dramatic piece; till death, which is the catastrophe and end of the action, strips the actors of all their marks of distinction, and levels their quality in the grave." "A rare comparison, quoth Sancho, "though not so new, but that I have heard it over and over. Just such another is that of a game at chess, where while the play lasts, every piece has its particular office; but when the game is over, they are all mingled and huddled together, and clapped into a bag, just as when life is ended we are laid up in the grave." Truly, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "thy simplicity lessens, and thy sense improves every day." "And good reason why," quoth Sancho; "some of your worship's wit must needs stick to me; for your dry unkindly land, with good dunging and tilling, will in time yield a good crop. I mean, sir, that the dung and muck of your conversation being thrown on the barren ground of my wit, together with the time I have served your worship, and kept you company, which is, as a body may say, the tillage, I must needs bring forth blessed fruit at last, so as not to shame my master; but keep in the paths of good manners, which you have beaten into my sodden understanding." Sancho's affected style, made Don Quixote laugh, though he thought his words true in the main; and he could not but admire at his improvement. But the fellow never discovered his weakness so much as by endeavoring to hide it, being most apt to tumble when he strove to soar too high. His excellence lay chiefly

in a knack at drawing proverbs into his discourse, whether to the purpose or not, as any one that has observed his manner of speaking in this history, must have perceived.

In such discourses they passed a great part of the night, till Sancho wanted to drop the portcullises of his eyes, which was his way of saying he had a mind to go to sleep. Thereupon he unharnessed Dapple, and set him a grazing: but Rozinante was condemned to stand saddled all night, by his master's injunction and prescription, used of old by all knights-errant, who never unsaddled their steeds in the field, but took off their bridles, and hung them at the pommel of the saddle. However, he was not forsaken by faithful Dapple, whose friendship was so unparalleled and inviolable, that unquestioned tradition has handed it down from father to son, that the author of this true history composed particular chapters of the united affection of these two beasts; though, to preserve the decorum due to so heroic a history, he would not insert them in the work. Yet, sometimes he cannot forbear giving us some new touches on that subject; as when he writes, that the two friendly creatures took a mighty pleasure in being together to scrub and lick one another; and when they had had enough of that sport, Rozinante would gently lean his head at least half a yard over Dapple's neck, and so they would stand very lovingly together, looking wistfully on the ground for two or three days; except somebody made them leave that contemplative posture, or hunger compelled them to a separation. Nay, I cannot pass by what is reported of the author, how

he left in writing, that he had compared their friendship to that of Nisus and Euryalus, and that of Pylades and Orestes, which, if it were so, deserves universal admiration; the sincere affection of these quiet animals being a just reflection on men, who are so guilty of breaking their friendship to one another. From hence came the saying, There is no friend; all friendship is gone: Now men hug, then fight anon. And that other, Where you see your friend, trust to yourself. Neither should the world take it ill, that the cordial affection of these animals was compared by our author to that of men; since many important principles of prudence and morality have been learnt from irrational creatures; as, the use of clysters from the stork, and the benefit of vomiting from the dog. The crane gave mankind an example of vigilance, the ant of providence, the elephant of honesty, and the horse of loyalty.

At last, Sancho fell asleep at the root of a corktree, and his master fetched a slumber under a spacious oak. But it was not long e'er he was disturbed by a noise behind him, and starting up, he looked and hearkened on the side whence he thought the voice came, and discovered two men on horseback; one of whom letting himself carelessly slide down from the saddle, and calling to the other, "Alight, friend," said he, "and unbridle your horse; for methinks this place will supply them plentifully with pasture, and me with silence and solitude to indulge my amorous thoughts." While he said this, he laid himself down on the grass; in doing which, the armor he had on made a noise, a sure sign,