XXXI. OF AN ASTOUNDING EPISODE 307 XXXII. OF THE UNHAPPY SITUATION OF A GREAT PRINCE 313 XXXIII. A SORTIE FROM THE CASTLE 326 XXXIV. OF MADAM’S RENCOUNTER WITH THE FROWARD PRINCE 330 XXXV. OF SIR RICHARD PENDRAGON’S RETURN 338 XXXVI. OF SOLPESIUS MUS, THE CAPTAIN-GENERAL OF THE JOGALONES 344 XXXVII. OF THE RIGOURS TO BE SUFFERED BY THE INFAMOUS KING 349 XXXVIII. THE LAST 357 FORTUNE FORTUNE CHAPTER I OF MY JOURNEY TO THE PLAIN AS I left the place of my birth and long abiding and took the road to that far country where I thought my fortune lay, the sun already had a countenance. It was shining on the chestnut trees; on the tall white walls of the house of justice at the corner of the square; on the worthy priest who was sprinkling holy water on the steps of the monastery of the Bleeding Heart to suppress the dust, to keep away the flies, and to consecrate the building; and especially on the only bailiff that our town could boast, whose salary fluctuated with the thieves he captured. He, honest fellow, had driven so poor a trade of late that he crept along in his winter coat, seeking the shade of trees and houses. Even at this time some portion of philosophy had gone to the increase of my mind, a habit which sprang, I think, from my mother’s family--her brother Nicolas was a clerk of Salamanca and wore a purple gown. So when it fell to consider two such matters as the dearth of rogues and the sun’s majestic clemency it found a pleasant argument. I had yet to adventure half a league into the world, but unless my eyes were false, the place I had vowed to win was fair and full of virtue. Having such thoughts I rejoiced exceedingly. Thus I checked my horse a moment and, lifting up my eyes to heaven, was fain to salute the morning. However, as I made to pursue my way, glowing with the generosity of my youth, my gaze was diverted by a thing of pity. It was an old poor woman sitting beside a door. She was thin and feeble. Her cheeks were hollow, there was no lustre in her glance, her mouth had not a tooth; but her face was such that I felt unable to pass her by. My father had an adage pertinent to her case. “Be kind to the poor,” said the first of mankind, “and if you are not the happiest man in Spain, it is a conspiracy of Fortune’s.”