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堂吉诃德|Don Quixote

Part 1 第16章|Part 1 Chapter 16

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 塞万提斯] 阅读：[44355]
《堂吉诃德》是一部幽默诙谐、滑稽可笑、充满了奇思妙想的长篇文学巨著。此书主要描写了一个有趣、可敬、可悲、喜欢自欺欺人的没落贵族堂吉诃德，他痴狂地迷恋古代骑士小说，以至于放弃家业，用破甲驽马装扮成古代骑士的样子，再雇佣农民桑乔作侍从，三次出征周游全国，去创建所谓的扶弱锄强的骑士业绩。他们在征险的生涯中闹出了许多笑话，到处碰壁受辱，堂吉诃德多次被打成重伤，有一次还被当成疯子关在笼子里遣送回乡。最后，他因征战不利郁郁寡欢而与世长辞，临终前他那一番貌似悔悟的话语让人匪夷所思又哭笑不得。
《 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 字+字- 行+行- 页+页- 》
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店主看到唐吉诃德横趴在驴上，就问桑乔是哪儿不舒服。桑乔说他没什么，只是从一块石头上掉了下来，脊背难受。店主有个老婆，同其他客店的主妇不一样，心地善良，总是为别人的遭遇难过。她赶来为唐吉诃德治伤，并且让她的一个漂亮闺女帮助自己照顾客人。客店里还有个女仆，是阿斯图里亚斯人，宽宽的脸宠，粗粗的后颈，扁鼻子，一只眼瞎，另一眼也不好。这女仆还有其他毛病，那就是她从头到脚不足七拃，背上总是如承重负，压得她总是不大情愿地盯着地。不过，这几个缺陷都被她那优美的体态弥补了。这位优雅的女仆又帮着店主的女儿在一间库房里为唐吉诃德准备了一张破床。那库房显然多年来一直是堆草料用的。库房里还住着一位脚夫，他的床虽然也只是用驮鞍和马披拼凑成的，却比唐吉诃德的床强得多。唐吉诃德的床只是架在两个高低不平的凳子上的四块木板，一条褥子薄得像床罩，还净是硬疙瘩。若不是从破洞那儿看得见羊毛，还以为里面装的是鹅卵石呢。床单是用皮盾的破皮子做的，还有一条秃秃的毯子。要是有人愿意的话，那上面一共有多少根线都能数出来。

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唐吉诃德在这张破床上躺下来。客店的主妇和她的女儿把唐吉诃德从上到下都抹上了膏药，那个阿斯图里亚斯丑女仆在旁边照着亮。女主人看到唐吉诃德身上尽是瘀斑，就说这伤是打的，不是摔的。

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“不是打的，”桑乔说，“只是那块石头上有很多棱角，每个棱角都撞出一块瘀伤。”

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他还说：

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“夫人，请您把那块麻布省着点用，还会有人需要的。我的腰就有点疼。”

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“要是这么讲，”主妇说，“你大概也摔着了。”

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“我没摔着，”桑乔说，“只不过突然看到我的主人摔倒了，我的身上就也疼，好像挨了许多棍子似的。”

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“这完全可能，”那位姑娘说，“我有好多次梦见自己从一个塔上掉下来，可是从未真正摔到地上。一觉醒来，浑身疼得散了架，真好像摔着了。”

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“关键就在这儿，夫人，”桑乔说，“我什么梦也没做，而且比现在还清醒，可是身上的瘀伤比我的主人唐吉诃德少不了多少。”

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“这位骑士叫什么名字？”阿斯图里亚斯的丑女仆问。

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“曼查的唐吉诃德。”桑乔说，“他是征险骑士，可算是自古以来最优秀、最厉害的征险骑士。”

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“什么是征险骑士？”女仆问。

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“你连这都不知道？世界上竟有这种新鲜事！”桑乔说，“告诉你吧，妹妹，征险骑士就是刚才还被人打，转眼间又成了皇帝。今天他还是世界上最不幸、最贫穷的家伙，明天就可以有两三个王国赐给他的侍从。”

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“既然你的主人这么出色，”女仆问，“你怎么好像连个伯爵都没混上呢？”

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“为时尚早，”桑乔说，“我们到处寻险，已经一个月了，直到现在，还没有遇到一次险情。不过，说不定什么时候就歪打正着碰上了呢。要是我的主人唐吉诃德这次真能治好伤，或者没摔坏，我也没事。即使把西班牙最高级的称号授予我，我也不会放弃我的希望。”

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唐吉诃德一直认真地听他们说话，这时也挣扎着坐起来，拉着主妇的手，对她说：

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“相信我，美丽的夫人，你完全可以因为在这座城堡里留宿了我这个人而自称为幸运之人。我并不是自吹，人们常说，自褒即自贬。不过，我的侍从会告诉你我是什么人。我只对你说，你对我的照顾我会铭刻在心。只要我一息尚存，我就会感谢你。我向天发誓，我从未像现在这样被爱情所俘虏，嘴里念叨着那个狠心的美人，还仿佛能看到她的眼睛。不然的话，你这位美丽千金的眼睛就是我的灵魂的主人。”

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客店主妇、她的女儿和那位女仆听着游侠骑士的话仿佛在听天书，莫名其妙，虽然她们能够猜测到那无非是些愿意效劳之类的殷勤话。她们还不习惯于这种语言，面面相觑，觉得这是个与其他人不同的人。她们用客店里的套话表示感谢，然后便离开了。丑女仆去看桑乔的伤。他同唐吉诃德一样需要治疗。

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脚夫已经同丑女仆商量好那天晚上要共度良宵。丑女仆对脚夫说，待客人们都休息了，主人也睡觉了，她就去找脚夫，让他随心所欲。据说这位善良的女仆只要说了这类的话，即使是在山里许的愿，并没有人做证，她也会如期赴约。她觉得自己很大方，对自己在客店里做这种事并不感到低人一头。她曾多次说，她生来就倒霉，总是有不幸和苦难。唐吉诃德那张拼凑起来的又硬又窄的破床摆在库房中间，后面摆的是桑乔的床，上面只有一张草席和一条毯子。那毯子不像是毛的，倒像是破麻布的。再往后是脚夫的床，像前面说的，那床是用驮鞍和两匹最好的骡子的装备拼凑成的。他总共有十二匹骡子，个个都膘肥体亮，远近闻名。据这个故事的作者说，他是阿雷瓦洛的脚夫大户。作者特意提到他，也很了解他，据说还和他有点亲戚关系。锡德·哈迈德·贝嫩赫利是个对所有事情都喜欢刨根问底，而且记事准确的作者，这点很容易看出来，因为他对所记录的情况事无巨细，都一一提及。那些讨厌的历史学家可以向他学习。那些历史学家凡事都叙述得简短扼要，大概是出于粗心、恶意或者无知，把最关键的东西刚送到嘴边，却又略去了。《塔布兰特·德里卡蒙特》和另一本叙述托米利亚斯伯爵事迹的著作的作者是多么准确地描述了一切呀！

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且说那位脚夫照看完他的牲口，喂了第二遍草料，就躺在驮鞍上静等那极其守时的丑女仆。桑乔敷好了药膏也躺了下来。他想睡觉，可是背上疼得厉害，睡不着。唐吉诃德的背也疼，一直像兔子似的睁着眼睛。整个客店一片寂静，只有大门中央的一盏灯还发出光亮。这种宁静，以及这位骑士对那些导致他疯癫的书中种种情节的回忆，使他产生了一种荒唐至极的想法。他想象自己来到了一座著名的城堡（前面说过，他把自己投宿的所有客店都看作城堡），店主的女儿是城堡长官的小姐。她被自己的风度折服了，已经爱上了自己，答应那天晚上瞒着父母来陪他好好睡一觉。这些杜撰的幻景使他仿佛觉得确有其事，于是开始不安，觉得考验他是否忠诚的时候到了。他在心里告诫自己，一定不能背叛托博索的杜尔西内亚，即使希内夫拉女王和她的侍女金塔尼奥斯来了也不能动心。

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唐吉诃德正在胡思乱想，恰巧那个阿斯图里亚斯女仆赴约的时间到了。她穿着衬衣，光着脚，头发盘在一个用绒布做的发套里，蹑手蹑脚地摸索着溜进他们三人的房间里，准备同脚夫幽会。她刚走到门边，唐吉诃德就察觉了。虽然身上涂着药膏，背很疼，唐吉诃德还是坐在床上，伸出双臂来迎接自己的美丽夫人。阿斯图里亚斯女仆全神贯注地悄悄伸着手找她的情郎，手碰到了唐吉诃德的胳膊。唐吉诃德用力抓住女仆的一只手腕，把她拉过来，让她坐在床上。女仆吓得不敢言语。唐吉诃德又触摸到女仆的衬衣。那衬衣虽然是用粗布做的，可唐吉诃德还是觉得它薄如细纱。女仆的手腕上戴着玻璃珠串，于是唐吉诃德仿佛看到了东方的明珠。女仆的头发在某种程度上像马鬃，可唐吉诃德却把它当作阿拉伯光彩夺目的金丝，照得太阳黯然失色。她的呼吸无疑散发出一股隔夜色拉的味道，可唐吉诃德觉得它是那么芬芳馥郁。最后，唐吉诃德在头脑里把她想得跟书里的一位公主一模一样。那位公主就像刚才描写的那么迷人。她被爱情驱使，来看望受伤的骑士。唐吉诃德已经鬼迷心窍，无论是对女仆的触摸还是她的气息或者其它东西，都不能让他清醒过来。除了脚夫以外，所有人都会对女仆的身体和气息作呕，可是唐吉诃德却觉得他搂着一位天姿国色。他搂紧女仆，情意绵绵地喃喃道：

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“美丽尊贵的夫人，承蒙大驾光临，不胜报答。可是命运偏偏不断地捉弄好人，让我躺在床上，浑身疼痛，虽然我十分愿意满足您，却又不可能。而且，更重要的是我已经对托博索举世无双的杜尔西内亚表示了忠心。我在灵魂最深处认为她是我唯一的意中人。不然的话，我不会像个愚蠢的骑士那样放弃您赐予我的这次幸遇。”

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女仆被唐吉诃德紧搂着，已经烦恼万分，身上直冒虚汗。她并没有听懂，也根本没有听唐吉诃德说些什么，只想能默不作声地摆脱出来。脚夫被邪欲搅得不能入睡，他的姘头刚到门口他就知道了。他一直仔细听着唐吉诃德说的话，而且由于阿斯图里亚斯女仆失约投入别人的怀抱而醋意大发。他悄悄走近唐吉诃德的床，看唐吉诃德到底还能说些什么。可是，他看到女仆正竭力想挣脱出来，而唐吉诃德却缠着她不放，他觉得这太过分了。脚夫高举手臂，一记猛击打在这位多情骑士的尖嘴巴上，立刻打得他满嘴是血。脚夫觉得这还不够，又踩到唐吉诃德的背上，从头到脚把唐吉诃德踢了个够。这张床本来就不结实，床架也不牢，脚夫再一上来就更禁不住了，结果连人带床塌了下来。响声惊醒了店主。店主估计是女仆在闹腾。刚才店主喊过她，却没听到她应声。这么一猜，店主便起身点燃一盏油灯，向他估计正在打架的地方走来。

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女仆看到主人走过来了。她知道店主生性暴躁，吓得惊恐万状，赶紧藏到桑乔的床下，缩成一团。桑乔还睡着。店主走进来说道：

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“臭婊子，你藏在哪儿？我就知道准是你在闹事。”

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这时候桑乔醒了。他感觉到有个人影几乎压在他身上，以为是做恶梦，就挥拳乱打，有不少下打在了女仆身上。女仆被打疼了，也顾不得什么体面，反手打了桑乔很多下。这回桑乔可醒了。他看到有人打他，但不知那人是谁，就赶紧坐起来，抱住女仆，于是两人展开了一场世界上最激烈也最滑稽的争斗。

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脚夫借着店主的灯光看到女仆这种状况，便放开唐吉诃德过去帮忙。店主也想过去，不过他另有目的，店主认为是女仆造成了这场混战，所以他是过去惩罚女仆的。这真可谓“猫追老鼠鼠咬绳，绳缚棍子忙不停”，脚夫揍桑乔，桑乔打女仆，女仆又打桑乔，店主追女仆，大家都忙个不停，连喘息的时间也没有。妙就妙在店主手里的灯灭了，四周一片黑暗。大家摸黑乱打，无所顾忌，手到之处，一片狼藉。

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那天晚上，恰巧有个所谓托莱多老圣友团的团丁住在客店里。他听到这种奇怪的激烈打斗声，便抓起他的短杖和铁皮头盔，摸黑走进房间，说道：

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“别动，是正义！别动，是圣友团！”

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团丁首先抓到的是已经饱尝恶拳的唐吉诃德。唐吉诃德倒在他那已经倒塌的破床上，失去了知觉。团丁摸到他的胡子，不停地喊着：“服从正义！”可是看到被抓的人既不喊叫也不动，才意识到这人大概已经死了，那么其他在场的人就是凶手。这么一想，他就扯足嗓门喊道：

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“关上客店的门！不要让任何人跑掉，这里有个人被杀死了。”

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他这一叫可把在场的人吓坏了。大家有都停止了打斗，店主回到自己的房间里，脚夫回到驮鞍上，女仆也回到自己的茅屋里。只有倒霉的唐吉诃德和桑乔倒在原地动弹不得。这时团丁松开了唐吉诃德的胡子，出门找灯，准备寻找抓捕罪犯。可是灯没找到。原来店主回自己房间的时候，已经把油灯弄坏了。团丁好不容易才找到壁炉，费了不少周折和时间才点燃了另外一盏灯。

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The innkeeper, seeing Don Quixote slung across the ass, asked Sancho what was amiss with him. Sancho answered that it was nothing, only that he had fallen down from a rock and had his ribs a little bruised. The innkeeper had a wife whose disposition was not such as those of her calling commonly have, for she was by nature kind-hearted and felt for the sufferings of her neighbours, so she at once set about tending Don Quixote, and made her young daughter, a very comely girl, help her in taking care of her guest. There was besides in the inn, as servant, an Asturian lass with a broad face, flat poll, and snub nose, blind of one eye and not very sound in the other. The elegance of her shape, to be sure, made up for all her defects; she did not measure seven palms from head to foot, and her shoulders, which overweighted her somewhat, made her contemplate the ground more than she liked. This graceful lass, then, helped the young girl, and the two made up a very bad bed for Don Quixote in a garret that showed evident signs of having formerly served for many years as a straw-loft, in which there was also quartered a carrier whose bed was placed a little beyond our Don Quixote’s , and, though only made of the pack-saddles and cloths of his mules, had much the advantage of it, as Don Quixote’s consisted simply of four rough boards on two not very even trestles, a mattress, that for thinness might have passed for a quilt, full of pellets which, were they not seen through the rents to be wool, would to the touch have seemed pebbles in hardness, two sheets made of buckler leather, and a coverlet the threads of which anyone that chose might have counted without missing one in the reckoning.

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On this accursed bed Don Quixote stretched himself, and the hostess and her daughter soon covered him with plasters from top to toe, while Maritornes — for that was the name of the Asturian — held the light for them, and while plastering him, the hostess, observing how full of wheals Don Quixote was in some places, remarked that this had more the look of blows than of a fall.

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It was not blows, Sancho said, but that the rock had many points and projections, and that each of them had left its mark. “Pray, senora,” he added, “manage to save some tow, as there will be no want of some one to use it, for my loins too are rather sore.”

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“Then you must have fallen too,” said the hostess.

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“I did not fall,” said Sancho Panza, “but from the shock I got at seeing my master fall, my body aches so that I feel as if I had had a thousand thwacks.”

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“That may well be,” said the young girl, “for it has many a time happened to me to dream that I was falling down from a tower and never coming to the ground, and when I awoke from the dream to find myself as weak and shaken as if I had really fallen.”

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“There is the point, senora,” replied Sancho Panza, “that I without dreaming at all, but being more awake than I am now, find myself with scarcely less wheals than my master, Don Quixote.”

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“How is the gentleman called?” asked Maritornes the Asturian.

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“Don Quixote of La Mancha,” answered Sancho Panza, “and he is a knight-adventurer, and one of the best and stoutest that have been seen in the world this long time past.”

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“What is a knight-adventurer?” said the lass.

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“Are you so new in the world as not to know?” answered Sancho Panza. “Well, then, you must know, sister, that a knight-adventurer is a thing that in two words is seen drubbed and emperor, that is to-day the most miserable and needy being in the world, and to-morrow will have two or three crowns of kingdoms to give his squire.”

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“Then how is it,” said the hostess, “that belonging to so good a master as this, you have not, to judge by appearances, even so much as a county?”

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“It is too soon yet,” answered Sancho, “for we have only been a month going in quest of adventures, and so far we have met with nothing that can be called one, for it will happen that when one thing is looked for another thing is found; however, if my master Don Quixote gets well of this wound, or fall, and I am left none the worse of it, I would not change my hopes for the best title in Spain.”

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To all this conversation Don Quixote was listening very attentively, and sitting up in bed as well as he could, and taking the hostess by the hand he said to her, “Believe me, fair lady, you may call yourself fortunate in having in this castle of yours sheltered my person, which is such that if I do not myself praise it, it is because of what is commonly said, that self-praise debaseth; but my squire will inform you who I am. I only tell you that I shall preserve for ever inscribed on my memory the service you have rendered me in order to tender you my gratitude while life shall last me; and would to Heaven love held me not so enthralled and subject to its laws and to the eyes of that fair ingrate whom I name between my teeth, but that those of this lovely damsel might be the masters of my liberty.”

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The hostess, her daughter, and the worthy Maritornes listened in bewilderment to the words of the knight-errant; for they understood about as much of them as if he had been talking Greek, though they could perceive they were all meant for expressions of good-will and blandishments; and not being accustomed to this kind of language, they stared at him and wondered to themselves, for he seemed to them a man of a different sort from those they were used to, and thanking him in pothouse phrase for his civility they left him, while the Asturian gave her attention to Sancho, who needed it no less than his master.

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The carrier had made an arrangement with her for recreation that night, and she had given him her word that when the guests were quiet and the family asleep she would come in search of him and meet his wishes unreservedly. And it is said of this good lass that she never made promises of the kind without fulfilling them, even though she made them in a forest and without any witness present, for she plumed herself greatly on being a lady and held it no disgrace to be in such an employment as servant in an inn, because, she said, misfortunes and ill-luck had brought her to that position. The hard, narrow, wretched, rickety bed of Don Quixote stood first in the middle of this star-lit stable, and close beside it Sancho made his, which merely consisted of a rush mat and a blanket that looked as if it was of threadbare canvas rather than of wool. Next to these two beds was that of the carrier, made up, as has been said, of the pack-saddles and all the trappings of the two best mules he had, though there were twelve of them, sleek, plump, and in prime condition, for he was one of the rich carriers of Arevalo, according to the author of this history, who particularly mentions this carrier because he knew him very well, and they even say was in some degree a relation of his; besides which Cide Hamete Benengeli was a historian of great research and accuracy in all things, as is very evident since he would not pass over in silence those that have been already mentioned, however trifling and insignificant they might be, an example that might be followed by those grave historians who relate transactions so curtly and briefly that we hardly get a taste of them, all the substance of the work being left in the inkstand from carelessness, perverseness, or ignorance. A thousand blessings on the author of “Tablante de Ricamonte” and that of the other book in which the deeds of the Conde Tomillas are recounted; with what minuteness they describe everything!

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To proceed, then: after having paid a visit to his team and given them their second feed, the carrier stretched himself on his pack-saddles and lay waiting for his conscientious Maritornes. Sancho was by this time plastered and had lain down, and though he strove to sleep the pain of his ribs would not let him, while Don Quixote with the pain of his had his eyes as wide open as a hare’s .

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The inn was all in silence, and in the whole of it there was no light except that given by a lantern that hung burning in the middle of the gateway. This strange stillness, and the thoughts, always present to our knight’s mind, of the incidents described at every turn in the books that were the cause of his misfortune, conjured up to his imagination as extraordinary a delusion as can well be conceived, which was that he fancied himself to have reached a famous castle (for, as has been said, all the inns he lodged in were castles to his eyes), and that the daughter of the innkeeper was daughter of the lord of the castle, and that she, won by his high-bred bearing, had fallen in love with him, and had promised to come to his bed for a while that night without the knowledge of her parents; and holding all this fantasy that he had constructed as solid fact, he began to feel uneasy and to consider the perilous risk which his virtue was about to encounter, and he resolved in his heart to commit no treason to his lady Dulcinea del Toboso, even though the queen Guinevere herself and the dame Quintanona should present themselves before him.

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While he was taken up with these vagaries, then, the time and the hour — an unlucky one for him — arrived for the Asturian to come, who in her smock, with bare feet and her hair gathered into a fustian coif, with noiseless and cautious steps entered the chamber where the three were quartered, in quest of the carrier; but scarcely had she gained the door when Don Quixote perceived her, and sitting up in his bed in spite of his plasters and the pain of his ribs, he stretched out his arms to receive his beauteous damsel. The Asturian, who went all doubled up and in silence with her hands before her feeling for her lover, encountered the arms of Don Quixote, who grasped her tightly by the wrist, and drawing her towards him, while she dared not utter a word, made her sit down on the bed. He then felt her smock, and although it was of sackcloth it appeared to him to be of the finest and softest silk: on her wrists she wore some glass beads, but to him they had the sheen of precious Orient pearls: her hair, which in some measure resembled a horse’s mane, he rated as threads of the brightest gold of Araby, whose refulgence dimmed the sun himself: her breath, which no doubt smelt of yesterday’s stale salad, seemed to him to diffuse a sweet aromatic fragrance from her mouth; and, in short, he drew her portrait in his imagination with the same features and in the same style as that which he had seen in his books of the other princesses who, smitten by love, came with all the adornments that are here set down, to see the sorely wounded knight; and so great was the poor gentleman’s blindness that neither touch, nor smell, nor anything else about the good lass that would have made any but a carrier vomit, were enough to undeceive him; on the contrary, he was persuaded he had the goddess of beauty in his arms, and holding her firmly in his grasp he went on to say in low, tender voice:

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“Would that found myself, lovely and exalted lady, in a position to repay such a favour as that which you, by the sight of your great beauty, have granted me; but fortune, which is never weary of persecuting the good, has chosen to place me upon this bed, where I lie so bruised and broken that though my inclination would gladly comply with yours it is impossible; besides, to this impossibility another yet greater is to be added, which is the faith that I have pledged to the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, sole lady of my most secret thoughts; and were it not that this stood in the way I should not be so insensible a knight as to miss the happy opportunity which your great goodness has offered me.”

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Maritornes was fretting and sweating at finding herself held so fast by Don Quixote, and not understanding or heeding the words he addressed to her, she strove without speaking to free herself. The worthy carrier, whose unholy thoughts kept him awake, was aware of his doxy the moment she entered the door, and was listening attentively to all Don Quixote said; and jealous that the Asturian should have broken her word with him for another, drew nearer to Don Quixote’s bed and stood still to see what would come of this talk which he could not understand; but when he perceived the wench struggling to get free and Don Quixote striving to hold her, not relishing the joke he raised his arm and delivered such a terrible cuff on the lank jaws of the amorous knight that be bathed all his mouth in blood, and not content with this he mounted on his ribs and with his feet tramped all over them at a pace rather smarter than a trot. The bed which was somewhat crazy and not very firm on its feet, unable to support the additional weight of the carrier, came to the ground, and at the mighty crash of this the innkeeper awoke and at once concluded that it must be some brawl of Maritornes’, because after calling loudly to her he got no answer. With this suspicion he got up, and lighting a lamp hastened to the quarter where he had heard the disturbance. The wench, seeing that her master was coming and knowing that his temper was terrible, frightened and panic-stricken made for the bed of Sancho Panza, who still slept, and crouching upon it made a ball of herself.

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The innkeeper came in exclaiming, “Where art thou, strumpet? Of course this is some of thy work.” At this Sancho awoke, and feeling this mass almost on top of him fancied he had the nightmare and began to distribute fisticuffs all round, of which a certain share fell upon Maritornes, who, irritated by the pain and flinging modesty aside, paid back so many in return to Sancho that she woke him up in spite of himself. He then, finding himself so handled, by whom he knew not, raising himself up as well as he could, grappled with Maritornes, and he and she between them began the bitterest and drollest scrimmage in the world. The carrier, however, perceiving by the light of the innkeeper candle how it fared with his ladylove, quitting Don Quixote, ran to bring her the help she needed; and the innkeeper did the same but with a different intention, for his was to chastise the lass, as he believed that beyond a doubt she alone was the cause of all the harmony. And so, as the saying is, cat to rat, rat to rope, rope to stick, the carrier pounded Sancho, Sancho the lass, she him, and the innkeeper her, and all worked away so briskly that they did not give themselves a moment’s rest; and the best of it was that the innkeeper’s lamp went out, and as they were left in the dark they all laid on one upon the other in a mass so unmercifully that there was not a sound spot left where a hand could light.

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It so happened that there was lodging that night in the inn a caudrillero of what they call the Old Holy Brotherhood of Toledo, who, also hearing the extraordinary noise of the conflict, seized his staff and the tin case with his warrants, and made his way in the dark into the room crying: “Hold! in the name of the Jurisdiction! Hold! in the name of the Holy Brotherhood!”

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The first that he came upon was the pummelled Don Quixote, who lay stretched senseless on his back upon his broken-down bed, and, his hand falling on the beard as he felt about, he continued to cry, “Help for the Jurisdiction!” but perceiving that he whom he had laid hold of did not move or stir, he concluded that he was dead and that those in the room were his murderers, and with this suspicion he raised his voice still higher, calling out, “Shut the inn gate; see that no one goes out; they have killed a man here!” This cry startled them all, and each dropped the contest at the point at which the voice reached him. The innkeeper retreated to his room, the carrier to his pack-saddles, the lass to her crib; the unlucky Don Quixote and Sancho alone were unable to move from where they were. The cuadrillero on this let go Don Quixote’s beard, and went out to look for a light to search for and apprehend the culprits; but not finding one, as the innkeeper had purposely extinguished the lantern on retreating to his room, he was compelled to have recourse to the hearth, where after much time and trouble he lit another lamp.

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