he could not afford to pry too curiously. But Cervantes' mind was in no way poisoned by his surroundings.
Even if "Don Quixote" had never been written, the stories called "Novelas Examplares" would have entitled Cervantes to the foremost place among Spanish novelists.
Sir Walter Scott admired them greatly, and declared that they had first inspired him with the ambition of excelling in fiction. Cervantes went on writing to the very end of his life. An anecdote he tells in one of his last writings shows the sort of cheerful way in which he looked upon failing health, old age, and death. He relates how a student overtook him as a companion on the road one day, and hearing the name of Miguel de Cervantes, at once alighted from his ass and (to put it in his own words)—
made for me and hastily seized me by the left hand, cried
"Yes, yes; it is he of the crippled hand, sure enough, the
all-famous, the merry writer, and indeed the joy of the
Muses!" To me, who in these brief terms saw of my praises
the grand compass, it seemed to be discourteous not to respond
to them, so, embracing him round the neck, whereby
I made entire havoc of his collar, I said: "This is a mistake
in which many friends from ignorance have fallen.
I, sir, am Cervantes; but not the joy of the Muses, nor
any of the fine things your worship has said. Regain your
ass and mount, and let us travel together in pleasant talk
for the rest of our short journey." The polite student did
so, we reduced our speed a little, and at a leisurely pace
