hands of their enemies."

"He does not fly who retires," returned Don Quixote; "for I would have
thee know, Sancho, that the valour which is not based upon a foundation
of prudence is called rashness, and the exploits of the rash man are to
be attributed rather to good fortune than to courage; and so I own that I
retired, but not that I fled; and therein I have followed the example of
many valiant men who have reserved themselves for better times; the
histories are full of instances of this, but as it would not be any good
to thee or pleasure to me, I will not recount them to thee now."

Sancho was by this time mounted with the help of Don Quixote, who then
himself mounted Rocinante, and at a leisurely pace they proceeded to take
shelter in a grove which was in sight about a quarter of a league off.
Every now and then Sancho gave vent to deep sighs and dismal groans, and
on Don Quixote asking him what caused such acute suffering, he replied
that, from the end of his back-bone up to the nape of his neck, he was so
sore that it nearly drove him out of his senses.

"The cause of that soreness," said Don Quixote, "will be, no doubt, that
the staff wherewith they smote thee being a very long one, it caught thee
all down the back, where all the parts that are sore are situated, and
had it reached any further thou wouldst be sorer still."

"By God," said Sancho, "your worship has relieved me of a great doubt,
and cleared up the point for me in elegant style! Body o' me! is the
cause of my soreness such a mystery that there's any need to tell me I am
sore everywhere the staff hit me? If it was my ankles that pained me
there might be something in going divining why they did, but it is not
much to divine that I'm sore where they thrashed me. By my faith, master