"It's Lyaeus," cried Telemachus and ran after the cart bubbling with curiosity to hear his companion's adventures.
With a angle of mulebells and a hoarse shout from the driver the cart stopped, and Lyaeus tumbled out. His hair was mussed and there were wisps of hay on his clothes. He immediately stuck his head back in through the curtains. By the time Telemachus reached him the cart was tinkling its way down the road again and Lyaeus stood grinning, blinking sleepy eyes in the middle of the road, in one hand a skin of wine, in the other a canvas bag.
"What ho!" cried Telemachus.
"Figs and wine," said Lyaeus. Then, as Don Alonso came up leading his grey horse, he added in an explanatory tone, "I was asleep in the cart."
"Well?" said Telemachus.
"O it's such a long story," said Lyaeus.
Walking beside them, Don Alonso was reciting into his horse's ear:
'Sigue la vana sombra, el bien fingido.
El hombre está entregado
al sueño, de su suerte no cuidando,