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Señor Don Quixote, your worship has, no doubt, perceived the beauty of my lady duchess; that freshness of complexion that shines like polished steel, those cheeks of milk and crimson, with the sun on one side, and the moon on the other, and that gaiety with which she treads, or rather disdains the ground, seeming to diffuse health and joy wheresoever she walks. Well then, your worship must know, that she may thank God for that, in the first place; and, secondly, two cuts in her legs, that discharge the foul humours, with which the doctors say she abounds.
It happened, however, that one man’s oath being taken, he affirmed, and swore by his deposition, that he was going to be hanged on the gallows, and had no other errand or intention to pass freely, he swore to a lie, and therefore ought to be hanged according to law; and if we order him to be hanged, after he hath sworn he was going to be suspended on the gallows, he will have sworn the truth, and by the same law ought to be acquitted.
The curate, barber, bachelor, and even the sexton, cannot believe thou art a governor, and say the whole is a deception, or matter of enchantment, like all the affairs of thy master Don Quixote. Sanson vows he will go in quest of thee, and drive this government out of thy head, as well as the madness out of Don Quixote’s skull: I say nothing, but laugh in my own sleeve, look at my beads, and contrive how to make thy hunting-suit into a gown and petticoat for our daughter.
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