indeed, we passed through the region of the air, and even touched that of fire, but that we went beyond it is incredible; for, the fiery region lying between the sphere of the moon and the upper region of the air, it was impossible for us to reach that heaven where are the seven goats, as Sancho says, without being consumed; and, therefore, since we were not singed, Sancho either lies or dreams.”—­“I neither lie nor dream,” replied Sancho; “do but ask me the marks of these goats, and by them you will see whether I speak truth or no.”—­“Prithee tell them, Sancho,” said the duchess.  “There were two of them green,” answered Sancho, “two carnation, two blue, and one party-colored.”—­“That is a new kind of goats,” said the duke.  “We have none of those colors in our region of the earth.”—­“Sure, sir,” replied Sancho, “you will make some sort of difference between heavenly she-goats and the goats of this world?”—­“But, Sancho,” said the duke, “among these she-goats did you ever see a he-goat.”  “Not one, sir,” answered Sancho; “and I have been told that none has ever passed beyond the horns of the moon.”

They did not think fit to ask Sancho more about his voyage; for they judged he would ramble all over the heavens, and tell them news of whatever was doing there, though he had not stirred out of the garden.

Thus ended, in short, the adventure of the Disconsolate Lady, which afforded sport to the duke and duchess, not only for the present, but for the rest of their lives; and to Sancho matter of talk for ages, should he live so long.

“Sancho,” said Don Quixote, whispering him in the ear, “if thou wouldst have us believe what thou hast seen in heaven, I desire thee to believe what I saw in Montesinos’s cave.  I say no more.”

THE THREE THOUSAND THREE HUNDRED AND ODD LASHES

By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

[Don Quixote believes that his Dulcinea may be freed from enchantment by Sancho Panza’s inflicting upon himself of his own will “three thousand three hundred and odd lashes.”  Sancho has stopped at the fifth, and now the knight bribes him to continue.]

“For my part,” said Don Quixote, “hadst thou demanded a fee for disenchanting Dulcinea, I can tell thee that I would have given it thee already.  But I know not if a gratuity would accord with the cure; and I would not have the reward hinder the medicine.  For all that, it seems to me that nothing will be lost by putting it to a trial.  Look you, Sancho, to what you want, and scourge yourself at once, then pay yourself ready money with your own hand, since you keep my money.”  Sancho, opening his eyes and ears a span wide at this offer, gave consent in his heart to scourge himself with a good will.  “Ay, sir, now you say well,” quoth he to his master.  “I am willing to dispose of myself to do you a pleasure in what may consist with my advantage, for my love for my children and wife makes me seem selfish.  Tell me how much