ons of
it, Don Antonio, fearing it might come to the ears of the watchful
sentinels of our faith, explained the matter to the inquisitors, who
commanded him to break it up and have done with it, lest the ignorant
vulgar should be scandalised. By Don Quixote, however, and by Sancho the
head was still held to be an enchanted one, and capable of answering
questions, though more to Don Quixote's satisfaction than Sancho's.
The gentlemen of the city, to gratify Don Antonio and also to do the
honours to Don Quixote, and give him an opportunity of displaying his
folly, made arrangements for a tilting at the ring in six days from that
time, which, however, for reason that will be mentioned hereafter, did
not take place.
Don Quixote took a fancy to stroll about the city quietly and on foot,
for he feared that if he went on horseback the boys would follow him; so
he and Sancho and two servants that Don Antonio gave him set out for a
walk. Thus it came to pass that going along one of the streets Don
Quixote lifted up his eyes and saw written in very large letters over a
door, "Books printed here," at which he was vastly pleased, for until
then he had never seen a printing office, and he was curious to know what
it was like. He entered with all his following, and saw them drawing
sheets in one place, correcting in another, setting up type here,
revising there; in short all the work that is to be seen in great
printing offices. He went up to one case and asked what they were about
there; the workmen told him, he watched them with wonder, and passed on.
He approached one man, among others, and asked him what he was doing. The
workman replied, "Senor, this gentleman here" (pointing to a man of
prepossessing appearance and a certain gravity of look) "has translated
an Italian book into our Spanish tongue, and I am setting it up in type
for the press."
"What is the title of the book?" asked Don Quixote; to which the author
replied, "Senor, in Italian the book is called Le Bagatelle."
"And what does Le Bagatelle import in our Spanish?" asked Don Quixote.
"Le Bagatelle," said the author, "is as though we should say in Spanish
Los Juguetes; but though the book is humble in name it has good solid
matter in it."
"I," said Don Quixote, "have some little smattering of Italian, and I
plume myself on singing some of Ariosto's stanzas; but tell me, senor--I
do not say this to test your ability, but merely out of curiosity--have
you e
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