Una noche de las calurosas del verano, volvían de recrearse del río en Toledo un anciano hidalgo con su mujer, un niño pe-queño, una hija de edad de diez y seis años y una criada. La noche era clara; la hora, las once; el camino, solo, y el paso, tardo, por no pagar con cansancio la pensión que traen consigo las holguras que en el río o en la vega se toman en Toledo. One night, after a sultry summer's day, an old hidalgo of Toledo walked out to take the air by the river's side, along with his wife, his little boy, his daughter aged sixteen, and a female servant. Eleven o'clock had struck: it was a fine clear night: they were the only persons on the road; and they sauntered leisurely along, to avoid paying the price of fatigue for the recreation provided for the Toledans in their valley or on the banks of their river. Secure as he thought in the careful administration of justice in that city, and the character of its well-disposed inhabitants, the good hidalgo was far from thinking that any disaster could befal his family. But as misfortunes commonly happen when they are least looked for, so it chanced with this family, who were that night visited, in the midst of their innocent enjoyment, by a calamity which gave them cause to weep for many a year.