Parte,  Chap.

 1   I,   Commend|        comes it, Rocinante, you're so lean?"~ R. "I'm underfed,
 2   I,   Commend|       No great sense."~ B. "You're metaphysical."-R. "From
 3   I,   Commend|         s the difference?~ They're both as sorry hacks as Rocinante."~ ~ ~ ~
 4  II,         X|       hackneys-or whatever they're called -- as white as the
 5  II,       XXI|         never have luck if they're not gold rings, and real
 6  II,       XXV|      why, it's Master Pedro! We're in for a grand night!" I
 7  II,      XXVI|     Quixote! can't you see they're not real Moors you're knocking
 8  II,      XXVI|      they're not real Moors you're knocking down and killing
 9  II,      XXVI| Look-sinner that I am!--how you're wrecking and ruining all
10  II,    XXXIII|       it, I must follow him; we're from the same village, I'
11  II,     XLIII|       and what's more, while we're asleep we're all equal,
12  II,     XLIII|     more, while we're asleep we're all equal, great and small,
13  II,       XLV|    nuisance as the midges, they're so plenty. Let the majordomo
14  II,     XLVII|     duke I'll do as I said. You're not from Miguelturra, but
15  II,      XLIX|   worship's good leave."~ ~"You're facetious with me! You plume
16  II,         L|         you don't know what you're talking about; the gentleman
17  II,      LIII|     feet once more; and if they're not shod in pinked shoes