WHICH TREATS OF THE HEROIC AND PRODIGIOUS BATTLE DON QUIXOTE HAD WITH

CERTAIN SKINS OF RED WINE, AND BRINGS THE NOVEL OF "THE ILL-ADVISED

CURIOSITY" TO A CLOSE

There remained but little more of the novel to be read, when Sancho Panza

burst forth in wild excitement from the garret where Don Quixote was

lying, shouting, "Run, sirs! quick; and help my master, who is in the

thick of the toughest and stiffest battle I ever laid eyes on. By the

living God he has given the giant, the enemy of my lady the Princess

Micomicona, such a slash that he has sliced his head clean off as if it

were a turnip."

"What are you talking about, brother?" said the curate, pausing as he was

about to read the remainder of the novel. "Are you in your senses,

Sancho? How the devil can it be as you say, when the giant is two

thousand leagues away?"

Here they heard a loud noise in the chamber, and Don Quixote shouting

out, "Stand, thief, brigand, villain; now I have got thee, and thy

scimitar shall not avail thee!" And then it seemed as though he were

slashing vigorously at the wall.

"Don't stop to listen," said Sancho, "but go in and part them or help my

master: though there is no need of that now, for no doubt the giant is

dead by this time and giving account to God of his past wicked life; for

I saw the blood flowing on the ground, and the head cut off and fallen on

one side, and it is as big as a large wine-skin."

"May I die," said the landlord at this, "if Don Quixote or Don Devil has

not been slashing some of the skins of red wine that stand full at his

bed's head, and the spilt wine must be what this good fellow takes for

blood;" and so saying he went into the room and the rest after him, and

there they found Don Quixote in the strangest costume in the world. He

was in his shirt, which was not long enough in front to cover his thighs

completely and was six fingers shorter behind; his legs were very long

and lean, covered with hair, and anything but clean; on his head he had a

little greasy red cap that belonged to the host, round his left arm he

had rolled the blanket of the bed, to which Sancho, for reasons best

known to himself, owed a grudge, and in his right hand he held his

unsheathed sword, with which he was slashing about on all sides, uttering

exclamations as if he were actually fighting some giant: and the best of

it was his eyes were not open, for he was fast asleep, and dreaming that

he was doing battle with the giant. For his imagination was so wrought

upon by the adventure he was going to accomplish, that it made him dream

he had already reached the kingdom of Micomicon, and was engaged in

combat with his enemy; and believing he was laying on the giant, he had

given so many sword cuts to the skins that the whole room was full of

wine. On seeing this the landlord was so enraged that he fell on Don

Quixote, and with his clenched fist began to pummel him in such a way,

that if Cardenio and the curate had not dragged him off, he would have

brought the war of the giant to an end. But in spite of all the poor

gentleman never woke until the barber brought a great pot of cold water

from the well and flung it with one dash all over his body, on which Don

Quixote woke up, but not so completely as to understand what was the

matter. Dorothea, seeing how short and slight his attire was, would not

go in to witness the battle between her champion and her opponent. As for

Sancho, he went searching all over the floor for the head of the giant,

and not finding it he said, "I see now that it's all enchantment in this

house; for the last time, on this very spot where I am now, I got ever so

many thumps without knowing who gave them to me, or being able to see

anybody; and now this head is not to be seen anywhere about, though I saw

it cut off with my own eyes and the blood running from the body as if

from a fountain."




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