lamentation that ever was heard, for he believed he was dead. The curate
was known to another curate who walked in the procession, and their
recognition of one another set at rest the apprehensions of both parties;
the first then told the other in two words who Don Quixote was, and he
and the whole troop of penitents went to see if the poor gentleman was
dead, and heard Sancho Panza saying, with tears in his eyes, "Oh flower
of chivalry, that with one blow of a stick hast ended the course of thy
well-spent life! Oh pride of thy race, honour and glory of all La Mancha,
nay, of all the world, that for want of thee will be full of evil-doers,
no longer in fear of punishment for their misdeeds! Oh thou, generous
above all the Alexanders, since for only eight months of service thou
hast given me the best island the sea girds or surrounds! Humble with the
proud, haughty with the humble, encounterer of dangers, endurer of
outrages, enamoured without reason, imitator of the good, scourge of the
wicked, enemy of the mean, in short, knight-errant, which is all that can
be said!"

At the cries and moans of Sancho, Don Quixote came to himself, and the
first word he said was, "He who lives separated from you, sweetest
Dulcinea, has greater miseries to endure than these. Aid me, friend
Sancho, to mount the enchanted cart, for I am not in a condition to press
the saddle of Rocinante, as this shoulder is all knocked to pieces."

"That I will do with all my heart, senor," said Sancho; "and let us
return to our village with these gentlemen, who seek your good, and there
we will prepare for making another sally, which may turn out more
profitable and creditable to us."

"Thou art right, Sancho," returned Don Quixote; "It will be wise to let
the malign influence of the stars which now prevails pass off."