At once they approached him. They asked him about his master, but it was not until they had threatened to believe that he had robbed and murdered Don Quixote—for was he not mounted on Rocinante?—that he divulged the secret of his master's hiding-place. He told them of everything; even about his master's strange and unbounded love for the daughter of Lorenzo Corchuelo and the letter he had written to her. When the curate asked to see it, Sancho could not find it; and then he suddenly remembered that Don Quixote had given him neither the letter nor the order for the ass-colts. He turned pale and green, and beat his chest frantically, but it produced no miracle. The curate and the barber told him that the only thing to do was to find Don Quixote and get him to write them anew; and the thought of losing the ass-colts made Sancho only too anxious to return.
When the squire had been comforted somewhat, he tried to recite Don Quixote's epistle of love; and his recital amused the two friends to such a degree that he had to repeat it thrice, each time adding new absurdities. Finally they invited him to come into the inn and eat, while they talked over the journey to their friend's wilderness paradise of penitence. Sancho was quick to refuse; but he gave no reason for so doing. He said he preferred to eat outside and asked that they bring him the food, and also some barley for Rocinante.
While the barber was serving Sancho and Rocinante, the curate was developing a plan of strategy which was unanimously adopted by all concerned. It was arranged that the curate should invade the region of knightly penitence, dressed as an innocent-looking maiden with a masked countenance; while his friend the barber should appear on the scene behaving like a squire. The bogus maiden should be in great distress and ask for protection, when Don Quixote, valiant knight that he was, would be sure to give it. She would then beg him to shield her on her journey, and, as a favor, to ask her no questions regarding her identity, until she was safely at home. Once they had him there, they would try to find a cure for his strange madness.
CHAPTER XXVII
Of How the Curate and the Barber Proceeded with Their Scheme; Together with Matters Worthy of Record in This Great History
THE curate proceeded to borrow the needed dress from the landlady, whose curiosity he satisfied by explaining Don Quixote's madness and their mission in the mountains. The landlady recognized Don Quixote by the description the curate gave, and willingly furnished the clothes, and an ox-tail out of which the barber made himself a beard. As security for these things the curate left behind a brand-new cassock.
When the curate's transfiguration was completed, however, his conscience began to trouble him; so it was agreed that he and the barber were to change rôles. The curate shed his female attire, and the barber decided not to don it until they approached the mountainside. Meanwhile Sancho was instructed as to how to act and what to say, when he saw his master.
The day after they set out, they came to the place where Sancho's branches were strewn. The curate thought it best that they send Sancho ahead to take to his master Lady Dulcinea's reply; this was agreed to, and Sancho left.
While the two conspirators were resting in the shade of some trees they were suddenly startled by hearing a man singing in the distance. It was clearly a voice trained in the art of singing, and the verses he sang were not of rustic origin. Soon they perceived the singer, and it was no other than Cardenio, the Ragged One. Now he was untouched by madness, for he spoke quite sanely, telling them of his woeful misfortune, the memory of which, he said, would sometimes overpower and strangle his senses. The curate and the barber were both eager to know the story of the comely youth's life, and he then told them of the faithlessness of his friend. This time he was not interrupted, and he finished his story, which was one of a great love as much as one of misfortune. He had just reached the end, when from no great distance came the sound of a lamenting voice.