All this was brought home to Don Quixote by the bursting of his stitches;
however, he comforted himself on perceiving that Sancho had left behind a
pair of travelling boots, which he resolved to wear the next day. At last
he went to bed, out of spirits and heavy at heart, as much because he
missed Sancho as because of the irreparable disaster to his stockings,
the stitches of which he would have even taken up with silk of another
colour, which is one of the greatest signs of poverty a gentleman can
show in the course of his never-failing embarrassments. He put out the
candles; but the night was warm and he could not sleep; he rose from his
bed and opened slightly a grated window that looked out on a beautiful
garden, and as he did so he perceived and heard people walking and
talking in the garden. He set himself to listen attentively, and those
below raised their voices so that he could hear these words:

"Urge me not to sing, Emerencia, for thou knowest that ever since this
stranger entered the castle and my eyes beheld him, I cannot sing but
only weep; besides my lady is a light rather than a heavy sleeper, and I
would not for all the wealth of the world that she found us here; and
even if she were asleep and did not waken, my singing would be in vain,
if this strange AEneas, who has come into my neighbourhood to flout me,
sleeps on and wakens not to hear it."

"Heed not that, dear Altisidora," replied a voice; "the duchess is no
doubt asleep, and everybody in the house save the lord of thy heart and
disturber of thy soul; for just now I perceived him open the grated
window of his chamber, so he must be awake; sing, my poor sufferer, in a
low sweet tone to the accompaniment of thy harp; and even if the duchess
hears us we can lay the blame on the heat of the night."

"That is not the point, Emerencia," replied Altisidora, "it is that I