"That's your affair," returned Samson, "but to suppose that I am going home until I have given Don Quixote a thrashing is absurd; and it is not any wish that he may recover his senses that will make me hunt him out now, but a wish for the sore pain I am in with my ribs won't let me entertain more charitable thoughts."
-Eso os cumple -respondió Sansón-, porque pensar que yo he de volver a la mía, hasta haber molido a palos a don Quijote, es pensar en lo escusado; y no me llevará ahora a buscarle el deseo de que cobre su juicio, sino el de la venganza; que el dolor grande de mis costillas no me deja hacer más piadosos discursos.