Sancho came back to Don Quixote’s house, and returning to the late subject of conversation, he said, “As to what Senor Samson said, that he would like to know by whom, or how, or when my ass was stolen, I say in reply that the same night we went into the Sierra Morena, flying from the Holy Brotherhood after that unlucky adventure of the galley slaves, and the other of the corpse that was going to Segovia, my master and I ensconced ourselves in a thicket, and there, my master leaning on his lance, and I seated on my Dapple, battered and weary with the late frays we fell asleep as if it had been on four feather mattresses; and I in particular slept so sound, that, whoever he was, he was able to come and prop me up on four stakes, which he put under the four corners of the pack-saddle in such a way that he left me mounted on it, and took away Dapple from under me without my feeling it.”
“That is an easy matter,” said Don Quixote, “and it is no new occurrence, for the same thing happened to Sacripante at the siege of Albracca; the famous thief, Brunello, by the same contrivance, took his horse from between his legs.”
“Day came,” continued Sancho, “and the moment I stirred the stakes gave way and I fell to the ground with a mighty come down; I looked about for the ass, but could not see him; the tears rushed to my eyes and I raised such a lamentation that, if the author of our history has not put it in, he may depend upon it he has left out a good thing. Some days after, I know not how many, travelling with her ladyship the Princess Micomicona, I saw my ass, and mounted upon him, in the dress of a gipsy, was that Gines de Pasamonte, the great rogue and rascal that my master and I freed from the chain.”
“That is not where the mistake is,” replied Samson; “it is, that before the ass has turned up, the author speaks of Sancho as being mounted on it.”
“I don’t know what to say to that,” said Sancho, “unless that the historian made a mistake, or perhaps it might be a blunder of the printer’s .”
“No doubt that’s it,” said Samson; “but what became of the hundred crowns? Did they vanish?”
To which Sancho answered, “I spent them for my own good, and my wife’s , and my children’s, and it is they that have made my wife bear so patiently all my wanderings on highways and byways, in the service of my master, Don Quixote; for if after all this time I had come back to the house without a rap and without the ass, it would have been a poor look-out for me; and if anyone wants to know anything more about me, here I am, ready to answer the king himself in person; and it is no affair of anyone’s whether I took or did not take, whether I spent or did not spend; for the whacks that were given me in these journeys were to be paid for in money, even if they were valued at no more than four maravedis apiece, another hundred crowns would not pay me for half of them. Let each look to himself and not try to make out white black, and black white; for each of us is as God made him, aye, and often worse.”
“I will take care,” said Carrasco, “to impress upon the author of the history that, if he prints it again, he must not forget what worthy Sancho has said, for it will raise it a good span higher.”
“Is there anything else to correct in the history, senor bachelor?” asked Don Quixote.
“No doubt there is,” replied he; “but not anything that will be of the same importance as those I have mentioned.”
“Does the author promise a second part at all?” said Don Quixote.
“He does promise one,” replied Samson; “but he says he has not found it, nor does he know who has got it; and we cannot say whether it will appear or not; and so, on that head, as some say that no second part has ever been good, and others that enough has been already written about Don Quixote, it is thought there will be no second part; though some, who are jovial rather than saturnine, say, ‘Let us have more Quixotades, let Don Quixote charge and Sancho chatter, and no matter what it may turn out, we shall be satisfied with that.’”
“And what does the author mean to do?” said Don Quixote.
“What?” replied Samson; “why, as soon as he has found the history which he is now searching for with extraordinary diligence, he will at once give it to the press, moved more by the profit that may accrue to him from doing so than by any thought of praise.”
Whereat Sancho observed, “The author looks for money and profit, does he? It will he a wonder if he succeeds, for it will be only hurry, hurry, with him, like the tailor on Easter Eve; and works done in a hurry are never finished as perfectly as they ought to be. Let master Moor, or whatever he is, pay attention to what he is doing, and I and my master will give him as much grouting ready to his hand, in the way of adventures and accidents of all sorts, as would make up not only one second part, but a hundred. The good man fancies, no doubt, that we are fast asleep in the straw here, but let him hold up our feet to be shod and he will see which foot it is we go lame on. All I say is, that if my master would take my advice, we would be now afield, redressing outrages and righting wrongs, as is the use and custom of good knights-errant.”
Sancho had hardly uttered these words when the neighing of Rocinante fell upon their ears, which neighing Don Quixote accepted as a happy omen, and he resolved to make another sally in three or four days from that time. Announcing his intention to the bachelor, he asked his advice as to the quarter in which he ought to commence his expedition, and the bachelor replied that in his opinion he ought to go to the kingdom of Aragon, and the city of Saragossa, where there were to be certain solemn joustings at the festival of St. George, at which he might win renown above all the knights of Aragon, which would be winning it above all the knights of the world. He commended his very praiseworthy and gallant resolution, but admonished him to proceed with greater caution in encountering dangers, because his life did not belong to him, but to all those who had need of him to protect and aid them in their misfortunes.
“There’s where it is, what I abominate, Senor Samson,” said Sancho here; “my master will attack a hundred armed men as a greedy boy would half a dozen melons. Body of the world, senor bachelor! there is a time to attack and a time to retreat, and it is not to be always ‘Santiago, and close Spain!’ Moreover, I have heard it said (and I think by my master himself, if I remember rightly) that the mean of valour lies between the extremes of cowardice and rashness; and if that be so, I don’t want him to fly without having good reason, or to attack when the odds make it better not. But, above all things, I warn my master that if he is to take me with him it must be on the condition that he is to do all the fighting, and that I am not to be called upon to do anything except what concerns keeping him clean and comfortable; in this I will dance attendance on him readily; but to expect me to draw sword, even against rascally churls of the hatchet and hood, is idle. I don’t set up to be a fighting man, Senor Samson, but only the best and most loyal squire that ever served knight-errant; and if my master Don Quixote, in consideration of my many faithful services, is pleased to give me some island of the many his worship says one may stumble on in these parts, I will take it as a great favour; and if he does not give it to me, I was born like everyone else, and a man must not live in dependence on anyone except God; and what is more, my bread will taste as well, and perhaps even better, without a government than if I were a governor; and how do I know but that in these governments the devil may have prepared some trip for me, to make me lose my footing and fall and knock my grinders out? Sancho I was born and Sancho I mean to die. But for all that, if heaven were to make me a fair offer of an island or something else of the kind, without much trouble and without much risk, I am not such a fool as to refuse it; for they say, too, ‘when they offer thee a heifer, run with a halter; and ‘when good luck comes to thee, take it in.’”
“Brother Sancho,” said Carrasco, “you have spoken like a professor; but, for all that, put your trust in God and in Senor Don Quixote, for he will give you a kingdom, not to say an island.”
“It is all the same, be it more or be it less,” replied Sancho; “though I can tell Senor Carrasco that my master would not throw the kingdom he might give me into a sack all in holes; for I have felt my own pulse and I find myself sound enough to rule kingdoms and govern islands; and I have before now told my master as much.”
“Take care, Sancho,” said Samson; “honours change manners, and perhaps when you find yourself a governor you won’t know the mother that bore you.”
“That may hold good of those that are born in the ditches,” said Sancho, “not of those who have the fat of an old Christian four fingers deep on their souls, as I have. Nay, only look at my disposition, is that likely to show ingratitude to anyone?”
“God grant it,” said Don Quixote; “we shall see when the government comes; and I seem to see it already.”
He then begged the bachelor, if he were a poet, to do him the favour of composing some verses for him conveying the farewell he meant to take of his lady Dulcinea del Toboso, and to see that a letter of her name was placed at the beginning of each line, so that, at the end of the verses, “Dulcinea del Toboso” might be read by putting together the first letters. The bachelor replied that although he was not one of the famous poets of Spain, who were, they said, only three and a half, he would not fail to compose the required verses; though he saw a great difficulty in the task, as the letters which made up the name were seventeen; so, if he made four ballad stanzas of four lines each, there would be a letter over, and if he made them of five, what they called decimas or redondillas, there were three letters short; nevertheless he would try to drop a letter as well as he could, so that the name “Dulcinea del Toboso” might be got into four ballad stanzas.
“It must be, by some means or other,” said Don Quixote, “for unless the name stands there plain and manifest, no woman would believe the verses were made for her.”
They agreed upon this, and that the departure should take place in three days from that time. Don Quixote charged the bachelor to keep it a secret, especially from the curate and Master Nicholas, and from his niece and the housekeeper, lest they should prevent the execution of his praiseworthy and valiant purpose. Carrasco promised all, and then took his leave, charging Don Quixote to inform him of his good or evil fortunes whenever he had an opportunity; and thus they bade each other farewell, and Sancho went away to make the necessary preparations for their expedition.
桑乔回到唐吉诃德家，又接着刚才的话题说起来：
“参孙大人说，人们想知道是谁、什么时候、在什么地方偷了我的驴，那么我告诉你，就是我们为了逃避圣友团的追捕，躲进莫雷纳山的那天晚上。我们在苦役犯和送往塞哥维亚的尸体那儿倒霉之后，我和我的主人躲进了树林。我的主人依偎着他的长矛，我骑在我的驴上。经过几次交战，我们已经浑身是伤，疲惫不堪，就像躺在四个羽绒垫上似的睡着了。特别是我，睡得尤其死，不知来了什么人，用四根棍子把我那头驴的驮鞍架起来，把驴从我身下偷走了，我竟然一点儿也没有察觉。”
“这事很简单，而且也不新鲜。萨克里潘特围攻阿尔布拉卡的时候，那个臭名昭著的盗贼布鲁内洛就是用这种办法把马从他两腿中间偷走的。”
“天亮了，”桑乔说，“我打了个寒噤，棍子就倒了，我重重地摔到地上。我找我的驴，却找不到了。我的眼里立刻流出了眼泪。我伤心极了。如果作者没把我这段情况写进去，那就是漏掉了一个很好的内容。不知过了多少天，我们同米科米科纳公主一起走的时候，我认出了我的驴，那个希内斯·帕萨蒙特打扮成吉卜赛人的样子骑在上面。那个大骗子、大坏蛋，正是我和我的主人把他从锁链里解救出来的！”
“问题不在这儿，”参孙说，“问题在于你那头驴还没出现之前，作者就说你已经骑上那头驴了。”
“这个我就不知道了，”桑乔说，“大概是作者弄错了，要不就是印刷工人的疏忽。”
“肯定是这样。”参孙说，“那么，那一百个盾又怎么样了？
都花了吗？”
桑乔答道：
“都花在我身上和我老婆、孩子身上了。我侍奉我的主人唐吉诃德在外奔波，他们在家耐心地等待我。如果等了那么长时间，结果到我回来时钱却没挣着，驴也丢了，那准没我好受的。还有就是，我当着国王也会这么说，什么衣服不衣服、钱不钱的，谁也管不着。如果我在外挨的打能够用钱来补偿，就算打一下赔四文钱吧，那么，就是再赔一百个盾也不够赔偿我一半的。每个人都拍拍自己的良心吧，不要颠倒是非，混淆黑白。人之初，性本善，可是心要坏就不知能坏多少倍呢。”
“如果这本书能够再版的话，”卡拉斯科说，“我一定记着告诉作者，把桑乔的这段话加上去，那么这本书就更精彩了。”
“这本书里还有其他需要修改的地方吗？”唐吉诃德问。
“是的，大概还有，”卡拉斯科说，“不过都不像刚才说的那么重要。”
“难怪作者说还要出下卷，”参孙又说，“不过，他没有找到、也不知道是谁掌握着下卷的材料，所以我们怀疑下卷还能不能出来。而且，有些人说：‘续集从来就没有写得好的。’还有些人说：‘有关唐吉诃德的事，已经写出来的这些就足够了。’但也有一些人不怎么悲观，而且说得很痛快：‘再来些唐吉诃德的故事吧，让唐吉诃德只管冲杀，桑乔只管多嘴吧，我们就爱看这个。”
“那么，作者打算怎么办呢？”
“他正在全力寻找材料，”参孙说，“只要找到材料，他马上就可以付梓印刷。他图的是利，倒不怎么在乎别人的赞扬。”
桑乔闻言道：
“作者贪图钱和利？那要能写好才怪呢。他肯定不会认真地写，就像裁缝在复活节前赶制衣服一样，匆忙赶制的东西肯定不像要求的那样细致。这位摩尔大人或是什么人，在干什么呢？他若是想找有关冒险或其他各种事情的材料，我和我的主人这儿有的是。别说下卷，就是再写一百卷也足够。这位大好人应该想到，我们并不是在这儿混日子呢。他只要向我们了解情况，就知道我们是怎么过来的了。我只能说，我的主人要是听了我的劝告，我们现在肯定像那些优秀的游侠骑士一样，正在外面拨乱反正呢。”
桑乔还没说完，罗西南多就在外面嘶鸣起来。唐吉诃德听见了，觉得这是个极好的兆头，就决定三四天后再度出征。他把自己的想法告诉了学士，并且同学士商量，自己的征程应该从哪儿开始好。学士说他觉得应该首先到阿拉贡王国，到萨拉戈萨城去。过几天，到圣豪尔赫节的时候，那儿要举行极其隆重的擂台赛，唐吉诃德可以利用那个机会击败阿拉贡的骑士，那就等于战胜了世界上的所有骑士，从此名扬天下。学士对唐吉诃德极其高尚勇敢的决定表示赞赏。学士还提醒唐吉诃德，遇到危险时要注意保护自己，因为他的生命不属于他自己，而属于那些在他征险途中需要他保护和帮助的人。
“这点我就不同意，参孙大人，”桑乔说，“想让我的主人见了上百个武士就像孩子见了一堆甜瓜似的往上冲，那怎么行？求求您了，学士大人！该进则进，该退就得退，不能总是‘圣主保佑，西班牙必胜’！而且，如果我没记错的话，我听说，大概是听我主人说的，在怯懦和鲁莽这两个极端之间选择中间才算勇敢。如果是这样，我不希望我的主人无缘无故地逃跑，也不希望他不管不顾地一味向前冲。不过更重要的是，我有句话得告诉我的主人，假如他这次还想带我去，就得答应我一个条件，那就是所有战斗都是他的事，我只负责他吃喝拉撒的事，而且一定尽心竭力，可是要让我拿剑去战斗，即使是对付那些舞刀弄枪的痞子也休想！
“参孙大人，我并不想得到勇者的美名，我只想做游侠骑士最优秀最忠实的侍从。如果我的主人唐吉诃德鉴于我忠心耿耿，想把据他说能夺取到的许多岛屿送给我一个，我会十分高兴地接受。如果他不给我岛屿，那么我还是我，我也不用靠别人活着，我只靠上帝活着，而且不做总督也许会比做总督活得还好。况且，谁知道魔鬼会不会在我当总督期间给我设个圈套，把我绊倒，连牙齿都磕掉了呢？我生来是桑乔，我打算死的时候还是桑乔。不过，若是老天赐给我一个岛屿或是其他类似的东西，只要不用费力气，也不用冒险，我才不会那么傻，推辞不要它呢。人们常说：‘给你牛犊，快拿绳牵’，‘好运来了，切莫错过’。”
“桑乔兄弟，”卡拉斯科说，“你讲话真够有水平的，但即使这样，你还得相信上帝，相信你的主人唐吉诃德，那么，他给你的就不是一个岛屿，而是一个王国了。”
“多和少都是一回事，”桑乔说，“不过，我可以告诉卡拉斯科大人，只要我的主人没有忘记给我一个王国，我会珍重自己的。我的身体很好，依然可以统治王国，管理岛屿。这话我已经同我的主人说过多次了。”
“你看，桑乔，”参孙说，“职业能够改变人。也许你当了总督以后，连亲妈都不认了。”
“只有那些出身低下的人才会那样。像我这样品行端正的老基督徒绝不会这样。你只要了解我的为人，就知道我对任何人都不会忘恩负义。”
“只要有做总督的机会，”唐吉诃德说，“上帝肯定会安排，而且，我也会替你留心。”
说完，唐吉诃德又请求学士，说如果他会写诗，就请代劳写几首诗，自己想在辞别托博索的杜尔西内亚夫人时用，而且，唐吉诃德还请他务必让每句诗的开头用上她的名字的一个字母，等把全诗写出来后，这些开头的字母就能组成“托博索杜尔西内亚”这字样。学士说自己虽然算不上西班牙的著名诗人，因为西班牙的著名诗人至多也只有三个半，但他还是能按照这种诗韵写出几首，虽然写起来会很困难。因为这个名字一共有十七个字母，如果作四首卡斯特亚纳①的话，还多一个字母；如果写成五行诗的话，就还欠三个字母。不过，尽管如此，他会全力以赴，争取在四首卡斯特亚纳里放下“托博索杜尔西内亚”这个名字。
①卡斯特亚纳是一种四行八音节的民歌。
“哪儿都是一样，”唐吉诃德说，“如果诗里没有明确写明某个女人的名字，她就不认为诗是写给她的。”
这件事就这样商定了。他们还商定唐吉诃德八天后启程。唐吉诃德嘱咐学士一定要保密，特别是对神甫、理发师、他的外甥女和女管家，免得这一光荣而又勇敢的行动受阻。卡拉斯科答应了，然后起身告辞，而且嘱咐唐吉诃德，只要有可能，一定要把消息告诉他，不管是好的还是坏的。他们就这样告别了，桑乔去做外出的各种准备工作。