"When I worked for Tom Carrasco, the father of the bachelor Samson
Carrasco that your worship knows," replied Sancho, "I used to earn two
ducats a month besides my food; I can't tell what I can earn with your
worship, though I know a knight-errant's squire has harder times of it
than he who works for a farmer; for after all, we who work for farmers,
however much we toil all day, at the worst, at night, we have our olla
supper and sleep in a bed, which I have not slept in since I have been in
your worship's service, if it wasn't the short time we were in Don Diego
de Miranda's house, and the feast I had with the skimmings I took off
Camacho's pots, and what I ate, drank, and slept in Basilio's house; all
the rest of the time I have been sleeping on the hard ground under the
open sky, exposed to what they call the inclemencies of heaven, keeping
life in me with scraps of cheese and crusts of bread, and drinking water
either from the brooks or from the springs we come to on these by-paths
we travel."

"I own, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that all thou sayest is true; how
much, thinkest thou, ought I to give thee over and above what Tom
Carrasco gave thee?"

"I think," said Sancho, "that if your worship was to add on two reals a
month I'd consider myself well paid; that is, as far as the wages of my
labour go; but to make up to me for your worship's pledge and promise to
me to give me the government of an island, it would be fair to add six
reals more, making thirty in all."

"Very good," said Don Quixote; "it is twenty-five days since we left our
village, so reckon up, Sancho, according to the wages you have made out
for yourself, and see how much I owe you in proportion, and pay yourself,