In Which Is Related the Adventure of the Enamored Shepherd, Together with Other Truly Droll Incidents

THEY had traveled but a short time when they met some students and peasants on mule—back, and since they were going in the same direction Don Quixote offered them his protection if they would only make the pace of their young mules conform with that of his steed and Dapple. They agreed to do so, and it was not long ere the Knight of the Lions had introduced himself to his companions, and told them of his revival. The students were quick to perceive that he was demented; but not so the peasants, who could make neither head nor tail of what he said, and ascribed this to their own ignorance.

The students invited the knight to come with them to a wedding-feast, and immediately he asked which prince was to be married without his knowing it. The students informed him that it was not any prince's wedding, but that of a rich farmer by the name of Camacho, who was marrying the fair Quiteria, daughter of a rich man in their neighborhood. Quiteria, they said, was in love with one Basilio, a poor young shepherd, whom her father had sent away in anger from his house, forbidding him ever to see his daughter again. As a result of this banishment and his being separated from his love, he had now gone mad.

Don Quixote, having listened attentively to the students' story, began a discourse on love and marriage. Now and then Sancho interrupted him with strings of proverbs; this would infuriate his master by making him deviate from his subject. Finally Don Quixote retaliated by attacking and criticising Sancho's language, which he said was atrocious.

Soon their arguments were taken up by the students. One of them stood by Sancho; the other one took Don Quixote's point of view. Having once been involved, they argued first on one subject, then on another, until at last foils and the art of fencing became the subject. It so happened that one of them was carrying his foils with him, and he suggested that they settle their argument then and there. They did so under Don Quixote's chivalrous supervision, and when the engagement had come to an end, the one who had challenged was so worn and torn that Sancho felt sorry for him and went over to console him; at the same time he felt it his duty to advise him never again to fence, although he did not advise him against wrestling or throwing the bar, for he was strong enough for that, he thought. Whereupon the challenger rose and embraced his adversary, and after that they were better friends than ever.

They pursued their journey, and before long it grew dark. Soon afterwards they heard the musicians at the wedding, and saw the preparations that were being made for it. Here Don Quixote took leave of the students and the peasants, saying that being a knight-errant, he was obliged to give up the comfort of a bed, and would go to sleep in the woods or some lonely field. They did their best to persuade him to accept their hospitality—aided and abetted by the comfort-loving Sancho—but all remonstrances were in vain, much to Sancho's regret.


CHAPTER XX