ithout a soul, dost
thou not know that the fair Magalona once sat in thy place, and
alighted from thence, not into the grave, but into the throne of
France, if there is truth in history? And do not I sit by thee, that I
may vie with the valorous Peter, and press the seat that was once
pressed by him? Come, blindfold thyself, poor spiritless animal, and
let me not hear thee betray the least symptom of fear, at least not in
my presence."--"Well," quoth Sancho, "let them bind me; but, if you
will not let one say his prayers nor be prayed for, it is no marvel
one should fear that we may have a legion of imps about us to deal
with us, as at Peralvillo."

Now, both being hoodwinked, and Don Quixote perceiving everything
ready, be began to turn the pin; and no sooner had he set his hand to
it than the waitingwomen and all the company set up their throats,
calling out, "Speed you well, valorous knight; Heaven be your guide,
undaunted squire! Now, now, you fly aloft, cutting the air more
swiftly than an arrow, while the gazing world wonders at your course!
Sit fast, courageous Sancho! you do not sit steady; have a care of
falling; for your fall would be greater than the aspiring youth's that
sought to guide the chariot of the sun-god, his father." All this
Sancho heard, and, girting his arms fast about his master, "Sir,"
quoth he, "why do they say we are so high, since we can hear their
voices? Truly I hear them so plainly that one would think they were
talking close by us."--"Never mind that," answered Don Quixote; "for
in these extraordinary kinds of flight you can hear and see what you
wish a thousand leagues off. But do not hold me so hard, for you will
make me tumble off. I know not what makes thee tremble so, for I dare
swear I never rode easier in all my life; our horse goes as if he did
not move at all. Take courage, then; for the affair is in a good way,
and we have the wind astern."--"I think so, too," quoth Sancho; "for I
feel the wind puff as briskly here as if a thousand pairs of bellows
were blowing on me at my back." Sancho was not in the wrong; for two
or three pairs of bellows were indeed giving air; so well had the plot
of this adventure been laid by the duke, the duchess, and their
steward, that nothing was wanting to perfect it.

Don Quixote at last feeling the wind, "Sure," said he, "we must be
risen to the second region of the air, where are engendered the hail
and snow; thunder, lightning, and thunderbol