“Like red wine, your worship had better say,” replied Sancho; “for I would have you know, if you don’t know it, that the dead giant is a hacked wine-skin, and the blood four-and-twenty gallons of red wine that it had in its belly, and the cut-off head is the bitch that bore me; and the devil take it all.” “What art thou talking about, fool?” said Don Quixote; “art thou in thy senses?” “Let your worship get up,” said Sancho, “and you will see the nice business you have made of it, and what we have to pay;
