{"id":198,"date":"2019-12-01T16:45:24","date_gmt":"2019-12-01T16:45:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.publiconsulting.com\/wordpress\/donquixoteoflamancha\/chapter\/first-part-part-three-chapter-xvii\/"},"modified":"2020-03-15T08:13:50","modified_gmt":"2020-03-15T08:13:50","slug":"first-part-part-three-chapter-xvii","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/www.publiconsulting.com\/wordpress\/donquixoteoflamancha\/chapter\/first-part-part-three-chapter-xvii\/","title":{"rendered":"First Part. Part Three. Chapter XVII"},"content":{"raw":"CHAPTER XVII<\/a>\r\n
\r\n

Which continues the account of the innumerable difficulties that the brave Don Quixote and his good squire, Sancho Panza, experienced in the inn that, to his misfortune, he thought was a castle<\/span><\/h2>\r\n<\/div>\r\n\r\n

By this time Don Quixote had recovered from his swoon, and in the same tone of voice he had used the day before to call to his squire when he was lying in the vale of staffs,128<\/a><\/span><\/sup> he began to call to him now, saying:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSancho my friend, are you sleeping? Are you sleeping, friend Sancho?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cHow could I sleep, oh woe is me,\u201d responded Sancho, full of sorrow and despair, \u201cwhen it seems that all the devils in hell had their way with me tonight?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cYou undoubtedly are correct about that,\u201d Don Quixote responded, \u201cbecause either I understand little, or this castle is enchanted. For you must know\u2026But what I wish to tell you now you must swear to keep secret until after my death.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI swear,\u201d Sancho responded.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI say this,\u201d replied Don Quixote, \u201cbecause I do not wish to take away anyone\u2019s honor.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI say that I swear,\u201d Sancho said again, \u201cto keep quiet about it until your grace has reached the end of your days, and God willing, I\u2019ll be able to reveal it tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cHave I acted so badly with you, Sancho,\u201d Don Quixote responded, \u201cthat you wish to see me dead so soon?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not the reason,\u201d Sancho replied, \u201cbut I don\u2019t like keeping secrets, and I wouldn\u2019t want them to spoil because I kept them too long.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cWhatever the reason may be,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cI have great confidence in your love and courtesy, and so you must know that tonight I have had one of the strangest adventures one could ever imagine; to make the story brief, I shall tell you that a short while ago the daughter of the lord of this castle came to me, and she is one of the most elegant and beauteous damsels to be found anywhere on earth. What can I say of the grace of her person, the nobility of her understanding, the other hidden things which, in order to keep the faith I owe to my lady Dulcinea of Toboso, I shall keep inviolate and pass over in silence? I wish only to say that heaven, envious of the good that Fortune had placed in my hands, or perhaps, and this is more likely, the castle, as I have said, being enchanted, as I was engaged in sweet and amorous conversation with her, without my seeing or knowing whence it came, a hand attached to the arm of some monstrous giant came down and struck me so hard a blow on the jaws that they were bathed in blood, and then beat me so badly that I feel worse than I did yesterday when the Yanguesans, because of Rocinante\u2019s audacity, committed the offense against us which you already know. And from this I conjecture that the treasure of this maiden\u2019s beauty must be guarded by some enchanted Moor and is not intended for me.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cNot for me either,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cbecause more than four hundred Moors gave me such a beating that the attack by the staffs was like cakes and icing. But tell me, Se\u00f1or, how can you call this a good and singular adventure if it left us the way it left us? Not so bad for your grace, because you had between your hands that incomparable beauteousness you mentioned; but what did I have except the worst cudgeling I\u2019ll ever get in my life? Woe is me and the mother who bore me: I\u2019m not a knight errant and don\u2019t ever plan to be one, and so I get the worst of all our calamities!\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThen, you have been beaten as well?\u201d responded Don Quixote.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t I just tell you I was, to the sorrow of me and my whole family?\u201d said Sancho.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cDo not be distressed, my friend,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cfor I shall now prepare the precious balm with which we shall be healed in the wink of an eye.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

By now the officer of the Holy Brotherhood had lit the lamp, and he came in to see the man he thought was dead; as soon as Sancho saw him come in wearing his nightshirt and nightcap and holding a lamp in his hand and with a very grim expression on his face, he asked his master:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or, can this by any chance be the enchanted Moor, come back to hit us some more in case there\u2019s anything left in the inkwell?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cHe cannot be the Moor,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cbecause those who are enchanted do not permit themselves to be seen by anyone.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cIf they don\u2019t permit themselves to be seen, they do permit themselves to be felt,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cas my back can tell you.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cAs could mine,\u201d Don Quixote responded, \u201cbut that is not sufficient evidence for believing that the man you see is the enchanted Moor.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

The officer was perplexed when he discovered them engaged in so peaceable a conversation. It is certainly true that Don Quixote still lay on his back, but he was unable to move simply because he was so badly beaten and so covered with poultices. The officer came up to him and said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cWell, how goes it, my good man?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI would speak with more courtesy,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cif I were you. Is it the custom in this land to speak in that manner to knights errant, you dolt?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Finding himself treated so abusively by someone whose appearance was so unprepossessing, the officer could not bear it; he raised the lamp filled with oil, brought it down on Don Quixote\u2019s head, and dealt him a serious blow; since everything was now in darkness, he left immediately, and Sancho Panza said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no doubt, Se\u00f1or, that this man is the enchanted Moor, who must be guarding the treasure for others, but for us he only has fists and blows with lamps.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThat is true,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cand one must not take notice of such matters in enchantments, nor is there reason to become angry or enraged at them, for, as these beings are invisible and magical, we shall find no one on whom to take our revenge no matter how much we try. Get up, Sancho, if you can, and summon the warder of this fortress, and persuade him to give me some oil, wine, salt, and rosemary so that I may prepare the health-giving balm; for, in truth, I believe I have great need of it now, since I am losing a good deal of blood from the wound this phantom has inflicted on me.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Sancho stood, all his bones aching, and began to walk in the darkness to find the innkeeper, but he encountered the officer, who had been listening to hear what his adversary would do, and Sancho said to him:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or, whoever you may be, do us the kindness and favor of giving us a little rosemary, oil, salt, and wine; they are needed to heal one of the <\/a>best knights errant on the face of the earth, lying in that bed badly wounded at the hands of the enchanted Moor who\u2019s in this inn.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

When the officer heard this, he thought Sancho was out of his mind, but since day was beginning to break, he opened the door of the inn, called to the innkeeper, and told him what the good man wanted. The innkeeper gave him what he asked for, and Sancho carried it to Don Quixote, who was holding his head in his hands and moaning at the pain of the blow from the lamp, which had done him little harm other than the raising of two rather large bumps; what he thought was blood was nothing but the sweat pouring out of him because of the distress he had experienced in the tempest that had just passed.<\/p>\r\n

In short, he took his simples and made a compound of them, mixing them all together and cooking them for a while until it seemed to him they were ready. Then he asked for a flask to pour the potion into, but since there was none in the inn, he decided to put it into a cruet or oil container made of tinplate, which the innkeeper gave to him at no charge. Then, over the cruet, he said more than eighty Pater Nosters and an equal number of Ave Mar\u00edas, Salves, and Credos, and he accompanied each word with the sign of the cross, in a kind of blessing, all of which was witnessed by Sancho, the innkeeper, and the officer; the muledriver, in the meantime, had quietly gone out to tend to his animals.<\/p>\r\n

Having completed this, Don Quixote himself wanted to test the virtue of what he imagined to be the precious balm, and so he drank it down, and the portion that could not fit into the cruet and was left in the pot where it had cooked amounted to almost a liter; as soon as he finished drinking it, he began to vomit until nothing was left in his stomach, and with the nausea and agitation of vomiting, he broke into a copious sweat, for which reason he ordered them to wrap him up well and leave him alone. This they did, and he slept for more than three hours, and when he woke his body felt much relieved and so much better after his beating that he considered himself cured; he truly believed he had found the balm of Fierabr\u00e1s, and that with this remedy he could from now on, and with no fear whatsoever, engage in any combat, battle, or contest no matter how perilous it might be.<\/p>\r\n

Sancho Panza, who also deemed the improvement in his master a miracle, requested the portion that remained in the pot, which was no small quantity. Don Quixote agreed, and Sancho picked up the pot in both hands, and with a good amount of trust and even greater optimism, <\/a>he gulped the potion down thirstily, swallowing only a little less than his master had. It seems, however, that poor Sancho\u2019s stomach was not as delicate as his master\u2019s, and so, before he vomited, he endured so much nausea and felt so sick to his stomach, and sweated so much and felt so faint, that he really and truly thought it was his final hour, and finding himself in so much pain and anguish, he cursed the balm and the villain who had given it to him. Seeing him in this state, Don Quixote said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cI believe, Sancho, that this affliction has befallen you because you have not been dubbed a knight, for I am of the opinion that this potion is not suitable for those who are not knights.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cCurse me and all my kin! If your grace knew that,\u201d replied Sancho, \u201cwhy did you let me taste it?\u201d<\/p>\r\n

At this point the concoction took effect, and the poor squire began to erupt from both channels, and with so much force that the reed mat on which he lay, and the canvas blanket that covered him, could not be used again. He was perspiring and sweating and suffering such paroxysms and mishaps that not only he but everyone else thought his life was coming to an end. This tempest of affliction lasted almost two hours, at the end of which he was left not as his master had been, but so bruised and battered he could barely stand.<\/p>\r\n

Don Quixote, however, who, as we have said, felt cured and healthy, wanted to leave immediately to seek adventures, it being his opinion that the time he spent in that place meant he was depriving the world, and all those in it who were in need, of his help and assistance, especially now when he had so much trust and confidence in the balm. And so, impelled by this desire, he himself saddled Rocinante, and put the packsaddle on his squire\u2019s donkey, and helped Sancho to dress and climb on the animal. Then he mounted his horse, and as he rode past a corner of the inn, he picked up a pike he found there to use as a lance.<\/p>\r\n

All those in the inn, amounting to more than twenty people, were watching him; the innkeeper\u2019s daughter looked at him as well, and he did not take his eyes off her, either, and from time to time he heaved a sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his soul, and everyone thought this must have been on account of the pain he felt in his ribs; at least, those who had seen him covered with poultices the night before thought so.<\/p>\r\n

When he and Sancho were both mounted and standing at the entrance to the inn, he called to the innkeeper, and in a very calm and serious voice he said:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cMany and great are the kindnesses, Se\u00f1or Warder, which I have re<\/a>ceived in this thy castle, and it is my deepest obligation to show thee my gratitude for all the days of my life. If I can repay thee by taking vengeance upon some arrogant villain who may have offended thee, know that my profession is none other than to defend those who are defenseless, and to avenge those who are wronged, and to punish malfeasance. Search thy memory, and if thou findest anything of this nature to entrust to me, thou hast only to say it, for I promise, by the order of chivalry which I received, to give thee as much satisfaction and redress as thou mayest desire.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

The innkeeper responded with the same calm:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or Knight, I have no need for your grace to avenge any offense, because I know how to take the revenge I think fit when I am offended. All I need from your grace is that you pay for the night you spent in the inn: straw and feed for your two animals, and your supper and your beds.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThen, this is an inn?\u201d replied Don Quixote.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cAnd a very honorable one,\u201d the innkeeper responded.<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThen I have been deceived all along,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cfor in truth I thought this was a castle, and not a bad one; however, since it is not a castle but an inn, what you can do now is forgive the debt, for I cannot contravene the order of knights errant, about whom I know it is true, not having read anything to the contrary, that they never paid for their lodging or anything else in any inn where they stayed, because whatever welcome they receive is owed to them as their right and privilege in return for the unbearable hardships they suffer as they seek adventures by night and by day, in winter and in summer, on foot and on horseback, suffering thirst and hunger, heat and cold, and exposed to all the inclemencies of heaven and all the discomforts on earth.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cThat has nothing to do with me,\u201d responded the innkeeper. \u201cPay me what you owe me, and leave off your stories and chivalries; I don\u2019t care about anything but earning my living.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

\u201cYou are a fool and a bad innkeeper,\u201d responded Don Quixote.<\/p>\r\n

And spurring Rocinante, and grasping his pike, he left the inn and no one stopped him, and he, not looking to see if his squire was following, rode for a fair distance.<\/p>\r\n

The innkeeper, who saw him leave without paying, turned for payment to Sancho Panza, who said that since his master had not wanted to pay, he would not pay, either, for as the squire of a knight errant, the same rule and law applied to him as to his master with regard to not paying anything in hostelries and inns. This greatly displeased the innkeeper, who warned him that if he did not pay, he would collect his <\/a>money in a way Sancho would regret. To which Sancho replied that by the law of chivalry his master had received, he would not pay a coronado<\/span> 129<\/a><\/span><\/sup> even if it cost him his life; for the virtuous and ancient customs of knights errants would not be brought down by him, nor would the squires of future knights have reason to complain of him or reproach him for breaking so just a law.<\/p>\r\n

It was unhappy Sancho\u2019s misfortune that among the people staying at the inn were four wool carders from Segovia, three needlemakers from El Potro in C\u00f3rdoba, and two residents of La Feria in Sevilla, people who were good-natured, well-intentioned, rough-mannered, and playful, and they, almost as if impelled and moved by the same spirit, approached Sancho and pulled him off his donkey, while one of them went to get the blanket from the innkeeper\u2019s bed, and, after placing him on it, they looked up and saw that the roof was a little too low for the work they had in mind, and they decided to go out into the corral, where the sky was the limit. And there, with Sancho in the middle of the blanket, they began to toss him and make merry with him as if he were a dog at Carnival.130<\/a><\/span><\/sup><\/p>\r\n\r\n

The shouts of the wretch being tossed in the blanket were so loud and so many that they reached the ears of his master, who, deciding to listen carefully, believed some new adventure was under way, until it became clear that the man who was shouting was his squire; after he turned his horse around and reached the inn at a laborious gallop, and found it closed, he rode around it to see if he could find a way in, but as soon as he came to the walls of the corral, which were not very high, he saw the bad turn being done to his squire. He saw him going up and down in the air with so much grace and speed that if his wrath had permitted it, I think he would have laughed. He attempted to climb from his horse to the top of the wall, but he was so bruised and stiff he could not dismount; and so, standing in his stirrups, he began to call those who were tossing Sancho in the blanket more insults and abusive names than it is possible to write down, but this did not stop them from laughing and doing their work, nor did the flying Sancho leave off his complaints, sometimes mixed with threats and sometimes with pleas; none of it did much good, however, until the men stopped from sheer weariness. Then they brought Sancho his donkey and placed him on it and his overcoat on him. And the compassionate Maritornes, seeing him so exhausted, thought it <\/a>would be a good idea to help him with a pitcher of water, and so she brought him one from the well because the water there was colder. Sancho took the pitcher, raised it to his mouth, and stopped when he heard his master call to him, saying:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cSancho my son, do not drink water! My son, do not drink it, for it will kill you! Do you see? Here I have the blessed balm\u201d\u2014and he showed him the cruet filled with the potion\u2014\u201cand if you drink only two drops, you surely will be healed.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

At these words Sancho looked at him askance and said in an even louder voice:<\/p>\r\n

\u201cHas your grace by chance forgotten that I\u2019m not a knight, or do you want me to finish vomiting up whatever guts I have left from last night? You can keep your potion or send it to the devil; just leave me alone.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

And saying this and beginning to drink were all one, but at the first swallow he saw that it was water and did not wish to continue, and he asked Maritornes to bring him wine; she did so very willingly and paid for it with her own money, because it can truly be said of her that though she followed the trade that she did, she bore a remote resemblance to a Christian woman.<\/p>\r\n

As soon as Sancho finished drinking, he dug his heels into his donkey, and the gate of the inn was opened wide for him, and he left, very pleased at not paying anything and having his way, though it had been at the expense of his usual guarantor, which was his back. The truth is that the innkeeper had kept his saddlebags as payment, but Sancho was so distracted when he left that he did not miss them. The innkeeper wanted to bar the gate as soon as he saw them outside, but the blanket tossers did not agree, for they were people who would not have cared an ardite<\/span> 131<\/a><\/span><\/sup> even if Don Quixote really had been one of the knights errant of the Round Table.<\/p>\r\n","rendered":"

CHAPTER XVII<\/a><\/p>\n

\n

Which continues the account of the innumerable difficulties that the brave Don Quixote and his good squire, Sancho Panza, experienced in the inn that, to his misfortune, he thought was a castle<\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n

\"image\"<\/p>\n

By this time Don Quixote had recovered from his swoon, and in the same tone of voice he had used the day before to call to his squire when he was lying in the vale of staffs,128<\/a><\/span><\/sup> he began to call to him now, saying:<\/p>\n

\u201cSancho my friend, are you sleeping? Are you sleeping, friend Sancho?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow could I sleep, oh woe is me,\u201d responded Sancho, full of sorrow and despair, \u201cwhen it seems that all the devils in hell had their way with me tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou undoubtedly are correct about that,\u201d Don Quixote responded, \u201cbecause either I understand little, or this castle is enchanted. For you must know\u2026But what I wish to tell you now you must swear to keep secret until after my death.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI swear,\u201d Sancho responded.<\/p>\n

\u201cI say this,\u201d replied Don Quixote, \u201cbecause I do not wish to take away anyone\u2019s honor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI say that I swear,\u201d Sancho said again, \u201cto keep quiet about it until your grace has reached the end of your days, and God willing, I\u2019ll be able to reveal it tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave I acted so badly with you, Sancho,\u201d Don Quixote responded, \u201cthat you wish to see me dead so soon?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not the reason,\u201d Sancho replied, \u201cbut I don\u2019t like keeping secrets, and I wouldn\u2019t want them to spoil because I kept them too long.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever the reason may be,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cI have great confidence in your love and courtesy, and so you must know that tonight I have had one of the strangest adventures one could ever imagine; to make the story brief, I shall tell you that a short while ago the daughter of the lord of this castle came to me, and she is one of the most elegant and beauteous damsels to be found anywhere on earth. What can I say of the grace of her person, the nobility of her understanding, the other hidden things which, in order to keep the faith I owe to my lady Dulcinea of Toboso, I shall keep inviolate and pass over in silence? I wish only to say that heaven, envious of the good that Fortune had placed in my hands, or perhaps, and this is more likely, the castle, as I have said, being enchanted, as I was engaged in sweet and amorous conversation with her, without my seeing or knowing whence it came, a hand attached to the arm of some monstrous giant came down and struck me so hard a blow on the jaws that they were bathed in blood, and then beat me so badly that I feel worse than I did yesterday when the Yanguesans, because of Rocinante\u2019s audacity, committed the offense against us which you already know. And from this I conjecture that the treasure of this maiden\u2019s beauty must be guarded by some enchanted Moor and is not intended for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot for me either,\u201d responded Sancho, \u201cbecause more than four hundred Moors gave me such a beating that the attack by the staffs was like cakes and icing. But tell me, Se\u00f1or, how can you call this a good and singular adventure if it left us the way it left us? Not so bad for your grace, because you had between your hands that incomparable beauteousness you mentioned; but what did I have except the worst cudgeling I\u2019ll ever get in my life? Woe is me and the mother who bore me: I\u2019m not a knight errant and don\u2019t ever plan to be one, and so I get the worst of all our calamities!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen, you have been beaten as well?\u201d responded Don Quixote.<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t I just tell you I was, to the sorrow of me and my whole family?\u201d said Sancho.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo not be distressed, my friend,\u201d said Don Quixote, \u201cfor I shall now prepare the precious balm with which we shall be healed in the wink of an eye.\u201d<\/p>\n

By now the officer of the Holy Brotherhood had lit the lamp, and he came in to see the man he thought was dead; as soon as Sancho saw him come in wearing his nightshirt and nightcap and holding a lamp in his hand and with a very grim expression on his face, he asked his master:<\/p>\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or, can this by any chance be the enchanted Moor, come back to hit us some more in case there\u2019s anything left in the inkwell?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe cannot be the Moor,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cbecause those who are enchanted do not permit themselves to be seen by anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf they don\u2019t permit themselves to be seen, they do permit themselves to be felt,\u201d said Sancho, \u201cas my back can tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs could mine,\u201d Don Quixote responded, \u201cbut that is not sufficient evidence for believing that the man you see is the enchanted Moor.\u201d<\/p>\n

The officer was perplexed when he discovered them engaged in so peaceable a conversation. It is certainly true that Don Quixote still lay on his back, but he was unable to move simply because he was so badly beaten and so covered with poultices. The officer came up to him and said:<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, how goes it, my good man?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI would speak with more courtesy,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cif I were you. Is it the custom in this land to speak in that manner to knights errant, you dolt?\u201d<\/p>\n

Finding himself treated so abusively by someone whose appearance was so unprepossessing, the officer could not bear it; he raised the lamp filled with oil, brought it down on Don Quixote\u2019s head, and dealt him a serious blow; since everything was now in darkness, he left immediately, and Sancho Panza said:<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no doubt, Se\u00f1or, that this man is the enchanted Moor, who must be guarding the treasure for others, but for us he only has fists and blows with lamps.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat is true,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cand one must not take notice of such matters in enchantments, nor is there reason to become angry or enraged at them, for, as these beings are invisible and magical, we shall find no one on whom to take our revenge no matter how much we try. Get up, Sancho, if you can, and summon the warder of this fortress, and persuade him to give me some oil, wine, salt, and rosemary so that I may prepare the health-giving balm; for, in truth, I believe I have great need of it now, since I am losing a good deal of blood from the wound this phantom has inflicted on me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sancho stood, all his bones aching, and began to walk in the darkness to find the innkeeper, but he encountered the officer, who had been listening to hear what his adversary would do, and Sancho said to him:<\/p>\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or, whoever you may be, do us the kindness and favor of giving us a little rosemary, oil, salt, and wine; they are needed to heal one of the <\/a>best knights errant on the face of the earth, lying in that bed badly wounded at the hands of the enchanted Moor who\u2019s in this inn.\u201d<\/p>\n

When the officer heard this, he thought Sancho was out of his mind, but since day was beginning to break, he opened the door of the inn, called to the innkeeper, and told him what the good man wanted. The innkeeper gave him what he asked for, and Sancho carried it to Don Quixote, who was holding his head in his hands and moaning at the pain of the blow from the lamp, which had done him little harm other than the raising of two rather large bumps; what he thought was blood was nothing but the sweat pouring out of him because of the distress he had experienced in the tempest that had just passed.<\/p>\n

In short, he took his simples and made a compound of them, mixing them all together and cooking them for a while until it seemed to him they were ready. Then he asked for a flask to pour the potion into, but since there was none in the inn, he decided to put it into a cruet or oil container made of tinplate, which the innkeeper gave to him at no charge. Then, over the cruet, he said more than eighty Pater Nosters and an equal number of Ave Mar\u00edas, Salves, and Credos, and he accompanied each word with the sign of the cross, in a kind of blessing, all of which was witnessed by Sancho, the innkeeper, and the officer; the muledriver, in the meantime, had quietly gone out to tend to his animals.<\/p>\n

Having completed this, Don Quixote himself wanted to test the virtue of what he imagined to be the precious balm, and so he drank it down, and the portion that could not fit into the cruet and was left in the pot where it had cooked amounted to almost a liter; as soon as he finished drinking it, he began to vomit until nothing was left in his stomach, and with the nausea and agitation of vomiting, he broke into a copious sweat, for which reason he ordered them to wrap him up well and leave him alone. This they did, and he slept for more than three hours, and when he woke his body felt much relieved and so much better after his beating that he considered himself cured; he truly believed he had found the balm of Fierabr\u00e1s, and that with this remedy he could from now on, and with no fear whatsoever, engage in any combat, battle, or contest no matter how perilous it might be.<\/p>\n

Sancho Panza, who also deemed the improvement in his master a miracle, requested the portion that remained in the pot, which was no small quantity. Don Quixote agreed, and Sancho picked up the pot in both hands, and with a good amount of trust and even greater optimism, <\/a>he gulped the potion down thirstily, swallowing only a little less than his master had. It seems, however, that poor Sancho\u2019s stomach was not as delicate as his master\u2019s, and so, before he vomited, he endured so much nausea and felt so sick to his stomach, and sweated so much and felt so faint, that he really and truly thought it was his final hour, and finding himself in so much pain and anguish, he cursed the balm and the villain who had given it to him. Seeing him in this state, Don Quixote said:<\/p>\n

\u201cI believe, Sancho, that this affliction has befallen you because you have not been dubbed a knight, for I am of the opinion that this potion is not suitable for those who are not knights.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCurse me and all my kin! If your grace knew that,\u201d replied Sancho, \u201cwhy did you let me taste it?\u201d<\/p>\n

At this point the concoction took effect, and the poor squire began to erupt from both channels, and with so much force that the reed mat on which he lay, and the canvas blanket that covered him, could not be used again. He was perspiring and sweating and suffering such paroxysms and mishaps that not only he but everyone else thought his life was coming to an end. This tempest of affliction lasted almost two hours, at the end of which he was left not as his master had been, but so bruised and battered he could barely stand.<\/p>\n

Don Quixote, however, who, as we have said, felt cured and healthy, wanted to leave immediately to seek adventures, it being his opinion that the time he spent in that place meant he was depriving the world, and all those in it who were in need, of his help and assistance, especially now when he had so much trust and confidence in the balm. And so, impelled by this desire, he himself saddled Rocinante, and put the packsaddle on his squire\u2019s donkey, and helped Sancho to dress and climb on the animal. Then he mounted his horse, and as he rode past a corner of the inn, he picked up a pike he found there to use as a lance.<\/p>\n

All those in the inn, amounting to more than twenty people, were watching him; the innkeeper\u2019s daughter looked at him as well, and he did not take his eyes off her, either, and from time to time he heaved a sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his soul, and everyone thought this must have been on account of the pain he felt in his ribs; at least, those who had seen him covered with poultices the night before thought so.<\/p>\n

When he and Sancho were both mounted and standing at the entrance to the inn, he called to the innkeeper, and in a very calm and serious voice he said:<\/p>\n

\u201cMany and great are the kindnesses, Se\u00f1or Warder, which I have re<\/a>ceived in this thy castle, and it is my deepest obligation to show thee my gratitude for all the days of my life. If I can repay thee by taking vengeance upon some arrogant villain who may have offended thee, know that my profession is none other than to defend those who are defenseless, and to avenge those who are wronged, and to punish malfeasance. Search thy memory, and if thou findest anything of this nature to entrust to me, thou hast only to say it, for I promise, by the order of chivalry which I received, to give thee as much satisfaction and redress as thou mayest desire.\u201d<\/p>\n

The innkeeper responded with the same calm:<\/p>\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or Knight, I have no need for your grace to avenge any offense, because I know how to take the revenge I think fit when I am offended. All I need from your grace is that you pay for the night you spent in the inn: straw and feed for your two animals, and your supper and your beds.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen, this is an inn?\u201d replied Don Quixote.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd a very honorable one,\u201d the innkeeper responded.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen I have been deceived all along,\u201d responded Don Quixote, \u201cfor in truth I thought this was a castle, and not a bad one; however, since it is not a castle but an inn, what you can do now is forgive the debt, for I cannot contravene the order of knights errant, about whom I know it is true, not having read anything to the contrary, that they never paid for their lodging or anything else in any inn where they stayed, because whatever welcome they receive is owed to them as their right and privilege in return for the unbearable hardships they suffer as they seek adventures by night and by day, in winter and in summer, on foot and on horseback, suffering thirst and hunger, heat and cold, and exposed to all the inclemencies of heaven and all the discomforts on earth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat has nothing to do with me,\u201d responded the innkeeper. \u201cPay me what you owe me, and leave off your stories and chivalries; I don\u2019t care about anything but earning my living.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are a fool and a bad innkeeper,\u201d responded Don Quixote.<\/p>\n

And spurring Rocinante, and grasping his pike, he left the inn and no one stopped him, and he, not looking to see if his squire was following, rode for a fair distance.<\/p>\n

The innkeeper, who saw him leave without paying, turned for payment to Sancho Panza, who said that since his master had not wanted to pay, he would not pay, either, for as the squire of a knight errant, the same rule and law applied to him as to his master with regard to not paying anything in hostelries and inns. This greatly displeased the innkeeper, who warned him that if he did not pay, he would collect his <\/a>money in a way Sancho would regret. To which Sancho replied that by the law of chivalry his master had received, he would not pay a coronado<\/span> 129<\/a><\/span><\/sup> even if it cost him his life; for the virtuous and ancient customs of knights errants would not be brought down by him, nor would the squires of future knights have reason to complain of him or reproach him for breaking so just a law.<\/p>\n

It was unhappy Sancho\u2019s misfortune that among the people staying at the inn were four wool carders from Segovia, three needlemakers from El Potro in C\u00f3rdoba, and two residents of La Feria in Sevilla, people who were good-natured, well-intentioned, rough-mannered, and playful, and they, almost as if impelled and moved by the same spirit, approached Sancho and pulled him off his donkey, while one of them went to get the blanket from the innkeeper\u2019s bed, and, after placing him on it, they looked up and saw that the roof was a little too low for the work they had in mind, and they decided to go out into the corral, where the sky was the limit. And there, with Sancho in the middle of the blanket, they began to toss him and make merry with him as if he were a dog at Carnival.130<\/a><\/span><\/sup><\/p>\n

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The shouts of the wretch being tossed in the blanket were so loud and so many that they reached the ears of his master, who, deciding to listen carefully, believed some new adventure was under way, until it became clear that the man who was shouting was his squire; after he turned his horse around and reached the inn at a laborious gallop, and found it closed, he rode around it to see if he could find a way in, but as soon as he came to the walls of the corral, which were not very high, he saw the bad turn being done to his squire. He saw him going up and down in the air with so much grace and speed that if his wrath had permitted it, I think he would have laughed. He attempted to climb from his horse to the top of the wall, but he was so bruised and stiff he could not dismount; and so, standing in his stirrups, he began to call those who were tossing Sancho in the blanket more insults and abusive names than it is possible to write down, but this did not stop them from laughing and doing their work, nor did the flying Sancho leave off his complaints, sometimes mixed with threats and sometimes with pleas; none of it did much good, however, until the men stopped from sheer weariness. Then they brought Sancho his donkey and placed him on it and his overcoat on him. And the compassionate Maritornes, seeing him so exhausted, thought it <\/a>would be a good idea to help him with a pitcher of water, and so she brought him one from the well because the water there was colder. Sancho took the pitcher, raised it to his mouth, and stopped when he heard his master call to him, saying:<\/p>\n

\u201cSancho my son, do not drink water! My son, do not drink it, for it will kill you! Do you see? Here I have the blessed balm\u201d\u2014and he showed him the cruet filled with the potion\u2014\u201cand if you drink only two drops, you surely will be healed.\u201d<\/p>\n

At these words Sancho looked at him askance and said in an even louder voice:<\/p>\n

\u201cHas your grace by chance forgotten that I\u2019m not a knight, or do you want me to finish vomiting up whatever guts I have left from last night? You can keep your potion or send it to the devil; just leave me alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

And saying this and beginning to drink were all one, but at the first swallow he saw that it was water and did not wish to continue, and he asked Maritornes to bring him wine; she did so very willingly and paid for it with her own money, because it can truly be said of her that though she followed the trade that she did, she bore a remote resemblance to a Christian woman.<\/p>\n

As soon as Sancho finished drinking, he dug his heels into his donkey, and the gate of the inn was opened wide for him, and he left, very pleased at not paying anything and having his way, though it had been at the expense of his usual guarantor, which was his back. The truth is that the innkeeper had kept his saddlebags as payment, but Sancho was so distracted when he left that he did not miss them. The innkeeper wanted to bar the gate as soon as he saw them outside, but the blanket tossers did not agree, for they were people who would not have cared an ardite<\/span> 131<\/a><\/span><\/sup> even if Don Quixote really had been one of the knights errant of the Round Table.<\/p>\n

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