We remounted our horses, after having made a much better meal than we expected on entering so inconsiderable an inn; and, far from preserving the silence we had kept up all the morning, we conversed on various subjects. Amongst the rest I chanced to ask Sayavedra how he first became an adventurer. He answered, that the only way to satisfy my curiosity was to relate to me the history of his life. I assured him, that it would afford me great pleasure to hear his adventures, and, without any more ceremony, he began in these terms: “Though I told you at Rome that I was born at Seville, it was not the truth. Valencia was in reality my native place, where perhaps may be found more rogues than in any other city in Spain; because it is a place which abounds with good things, and rich countries seldom produce honest men. My father was certainly only a commoner, but of that sort of citizens who pretend to hold up their heads with the nobility. Having lost his wife whom he loved tenderly, he took it so much to heart, that he did not long survive her. He left two sons; and these two sons, of whom I was the younger, sold all his property, which was but trifling, and divided its produce equally. After which my brother asked me what plans I had in my head. I confessed to him candidly, that my ruling passion was to travel. And mine also, said he. I have always taken pleasure in any accounts of foreign countries, and long extremely to see how people live who were not born in Spain. Both led on thus by the force of our stars, or rather, perhaps by our own evil propensities, we set off together one fine morning from Valencia, each with a small parcel under his arm.