Don Quijote

Original Paragraph:
The priest, and those around him, heard all this, which seemed to them to have been spoken - as indeed it had been - from somewhere very close by, so they rose to look for whoever had been speaking, nor had they gone twenty paces when, seated at the foot of an ash tree, in front of a craggy rock, they saw a young fellow dressed like a peasant (though because his head was bent forward they could not see his face) washing his feet in the stream that ran by. They stood watching so quietly that he was not aware of their presence, nor was he paying attention to anything except bathing his feet - which looked for all the world like two bits of white crystal lying on the stream bed with the other stones and rocks. The whiteness and beauty of those feet astonished them, for they did not seem fashioned for treading on ordinary ground, nor for walking behind a plow and a pair of oxen (as their owner's clothes would have indicated). So, seeing that their presence had still not been noticed, the priest, who had been leading the way, signalled to the others to crouch down and conceal themselves behind some of the boulders lying about, which they all did, staring attentively to see what the young fellow might do. He had on a short, drab double-cape, belted tightly with a white cloth, dun-colored wool leggings and breeches, and a hat of the same nondescript color. He had the leggings rolled halfway up his legs - which seemed every bit as white as alabaster. After washing his beautiful feet, he wiped them with a small towel which he pulled out from under his hat, at the same time raising his face and showing them its incomparable loveliness - so lovely that, in a low voice, Cardenio murmured to the priest;
"That isn't Luscinda, so it can't be a human being, but perhaps it's an angel."

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The priest, and those around him, heard all this, which seemed to them have been spoken - as it indeed it had been - from somewhere very close by. So they rose to look for whoever had been speaking, nor had they gone twenty paces when, seated at the foot of an ash tree, in front of a craggy rock, they saw a young fellow dressed like a peasant, washing his feet in the stream that ran by. Though because his head was bent forward, they could not see his face. They stood watching so quietly that he was not aware of their presence, nor was he paying attention to anything except bathing his feet. His feet looked for all the world like two bits of white crystal lying on the stream bed with the other stones and rocks. The whiteness and beauty of those feet astonished them. They did not seem fashioned for treading on ordinary ground, nor for walking behind a plow and a pair of oxen as their owner's clothes would have indicated. So, seeing that their presence had still not been noticed, the priest, leading the way, signalled to the others to crouch down and conceal themselves behind some of the boulders lying about. They all did this staring attentively to see what the young fellow might do. He had on a short, drab double-cape, belted tightly with a white cloth, dun-colored wool leggings and breeches, and a hat of the same nondescript color. He had the leggings rolled halfway up his legs. They seemed every bit as white as alabaster. After washing his beautiful feet, he wiped them with a small towel with he pulled out from under his hat. At the same time he raised his face and showed them its incomparable loveliness. It was so lovely that, in a low voice, Cardenio murmured to the priest:
"That isn't Lucinda, so it can't be a human being, but perhaps it's an angel."