CHAPTER XVII
By this time Don Quixote had recovered from his swoon; and in the same tone of voice in which he had called to his squire the day before when he lay stretched “in the vale of the stakes,” he began calling to him now, “Sancho, my friend, art thou asleep? sleepest thou, friend Sancho?”
“ How can I sleep, curses on it!” returned Sancho discontentedly and bitterly, “when it is plain that all the devils have been at me this night?”
“ Thou mayest well believe that,” answered Don Quixote, “because, either I know little, or this castle is enchanted, for thou must know—but this that I am now about to tell thee thou must swear to keep secret until after my death.”
“ I swear it,” answered Sancho.
“ I say so,” continued Don Quixote, “because I hate taking away anyone’s good name.
