“It’s for me to make that trip,” said Sanchica; “take me with you, señor, behind you on your horse; for I’ll go with all my heart to see my father.”
“Governors’ daughters,” said the page, “must not travel along the roads alone, but accompanied by coaches and litters and a great number of attendants.”
“By God,” said Sanchica, “I can go just as well mounted on a she-ass as in a coach; what a dainty lass you must take me for!”
“Hush, girl,” said Teresa; “you don’t know what you’re talking about; the gentleman is quite right, for ‘as the time so the behaviour;’ when it was Sancho it was ‘Sancha;’ when it is governor it’s ‘señora;’ I don’t know if I’m right.”
“Señora Teresa says more than she is aware of,” said the page; “and now give me something to eat and let me go at once, for I mean to return this evening.”
“Come and do penance with me,” said the curate at this; “for Señora Teresa has more will than means to serve so worthy a guest.”
The page refused, but had to consent at last for his own sake; and the curate took him home with him very gladly, in order to have an opportunity of questioning him at leisure about Don Quixote and his doings. The bachelor offered to write the letters in reply for Teresa; but she did not care to let him mix himself up in her affairs, for she thought him somewhat given to joking; and so she gave a cake and a couple of eggs to a young acolyte who was a penman, and he wrote for her two letters, one for her husband and the other for the duchess, dictated out of her own head, which are not the worst inserted in this great history, as will be seen farther on.