CHAPTER VI
Of the Diverting and Important Scrutiny Which the Curate and the Barber Made in the Library of Our Ingenious Gentleman
EARLY the next morning the curate and his friend Master Nicholas, the barber, went to Don Quixote's house to settle their grievance with the cause of all the mischief—the books of their demented friend. The curate asked the niece for the keys to the library, and she was only too willing to let him have them. They all went in, followed by the housekeeper, who grew faint-hearted as soon as she caught sight of all the beautifully bound books in the room. She ran out as if beset, returning immediately with a bowl of holy water and a sprinkler, with which she implored the curate to sprinkle the room, so that none of the magicians who might come out of the books would be left to bewitch her.
She was afraid that their ghosts might survive and bother her in revenge for having instigated their banishment from this world.
The curate was amused by the housekeeper's fear. He asked the barber to give him the books one by one, as he was afraid that among the many there must be some innocent ones which did not deserve the penalty of death. But both the niece and the housekeeper made emphatic and vociferous remonstrances against such leniency and insisted that a bonfire be made in the courtyard for all of them. Now, the barber had a particular leaning toward poetry, and he thought that such volumes ought to escape the stake; but he was promptly overruled by the conclusions of the niece, who reasoned that enough harm had already been done by books. "Your worship," she pleaded with the curate, "had best burn them all; for if my uncle, having been cured of his craze for chivalry, should take to reading these pastoral poems, he might take a fancy to become a shepherd and stroll the woods and pastures, singing and piping. What would be still worse, however, would be his turning poet; for that, they say, is both an incurable and infectious malady."
Against such logic, strongly supported by the housekeeper, the arguments of the two men came to nothing; and the barber saw his favorite form of literature thrust into the heap that was being prepared in the yard for illumination. Only a few books were saved from this fate, and they only through the boldness of the curate and the barber together against the united efforts of the female members of the party. There was one volume in particular, called "The Tears of Angelica," which the curate fought for valiantly. "I should have shed tears myself," he said, "had I seen that book burn."
CHAPTER VII
Of the Second Sally of Our Worthy Knight, Don Quixote of La Mancha
WHILE the curate was praising the merits of "The Tears of Angelica," there was suddenly a tremendous outcry and noise from Don Quixote's bedroom. They hastened to see what was the matter, and when they reached his room they found him out of bed, sword in hand, cutting and slashing all around him, raving and shouting, with perspiration dripping from his body. He imagined that he was keeping at a distance several bold and daring warriors, and he kept exclaiming that the envious Don Roland had battered him with the trunk of an oak-tree because of his illustrious achievements in chivalry. They finally succeeded in forcibly putting him to bed, having wiped away the perspiration—which he insisted was blood. He then asked for something to eat; and when it was brought he fell asleep again.