ed him, but Sancho replied
that it would not be good manners to leave his master waiting for him;
and that some other day if they met there would be time enough for that;
and then getting up, after shaking his doublet and brushing the crumbs
out of his beard, he drove Dapple on before him, and bidding adieu to
Tosilos left him and rejoined his master, who was waiting for him under
the shade of a tree.

CHAPTER LXVII.

OF THE RESOLUTION DON QUIXOTE FORMED TO TURN SHEPHERD AND TAKE TO A LIFE
IN THE FIELDS WHILE THE YEAR FOR WHICH HE HAD GIVEN HIS WORD WAS RUNNING
ITS COURSE; WITH OTHER EVENTS TRULY DELECTABLE AND HAPPY

If a multitude of reflections used to harass Don Quixote before he had
been overthrown, a great many more harassed him since his fall. He was
under the shade of a tree, as has been said, and there, like flies on
honey, thoughts came crowding upon him and stinging him. Some of them
turned upon the disenchantment of Dulcinea, others upon the life he was
about to lead in his enforced retirement. Sancho came up and spoke in
high praise of the generous disposition of the lacquey Tosilos.

"Is it possible, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that thou dost still think
that he yonder is a real lacquey? Apparently it has escaped thy memory
that thou hast seen Dulcinea turned and transformed into a peasant wench,
and the Knight of the Mirrors into the bachelor Carrasco; all the work of
the enchanters that persecute me. But tell me now, didst thou ask this
Tosilos, as thou callest him, what has become of Altisidora, did she weep
over my absence, or has she already consigned to oblivion the love
thoughts that used to afflict her when I was present?"

"The thoughts that I had," said Sancho, "were not such as to leave time
for asking fool's questions. Body o' me, senor! is your worship in a
condition now to inquire into other people's thoughts, above all love
thoughts?"

"Look ye, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "there is a great difference between
what is done out of love and what is done out of gratitude. A knight may
very possibly be proof against love; but it is impossible, strictly
speaking, for him to be ungrateful. Altisidora, to all appearance, loved
me truly; she gave me the three kerchiefs thou knowest of; she wept at my
departure, she cursed me, she abused me, casting shame to the winds she
bewailed herself in public; all signs that she adored me; for the wrath
of lovers always ends in curses. I had no hope