THE following day they reached the inn. The landlady at once wanted her ox-tail back, so it was decided that the barber should hereafter appear in his own true character, having supposedly arrived at the inn after the galley-slaves' hold-up.
Don Quixote was tired, and was given a bed in the garret where he had slept once before. While the others were having dinner, the landlady was confidentially telling all who would listen of Don Quixote's absurdities during his previous visit, and also of Sancho Panza's being juggled in the blanket. And while the curate was discussing Don Quixote's madness, the innkeeper confided to him that he himself had a weakness for reading about deeds of the past, particularly stories of chivalry. Often, he said, he would read aloud from these books to his family and servants. He had just read a novel entitled "Ill-Advised Curiosity," which he had found very interesting. He showed the manuscript of it to the curate, who seemed to think it might make very good reading and expressed a desire to copy it. Whereupon the innkeeper asked him whether he would not read it aloud to them; and as they were all eager to hear it, the curate commenced the reading of the manuscript.
CHAPTER XXXV
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 an End
THE curate had almost finished the reading of the novel, (which consumed all of the two chapters which are omitted here) when Sancho Panza burst into the room, excitedly shouting that his master was having the wildest battle he had ever seen, up in the garret. He pleaded for reinforcements, and wanted them all to join in conquering the enemy who, he declared, was no other than the fierce giant that had invaded the kingdom of Micomicon. He said he had left just as his master had cut the giant's head clean off with his sword, leaving the beast to bleed like a stuffed pig.
While Sancho was relating his blood-curdling story, a tremendous noise and loud exclamations poured forth from the garret, and the innkeeper, suddenly remembering all the many wine-skins he had hung up there on the previous night sprang out of his chair and toward the scene of action, followed by the rest.
The worst that the innkeeper might have feared was true; for there, on the garret floor, was a sea of red wine, with hosts of empty skins floating about upon it. In the middle of the sea stood Don Quixote, sword in hand, slashing right and left, dressed in nothing but his shirt. But the strangest thing of all was not his attire, but the fact that he was fast asleep, his eyes shut tightly, dreaming that he had already arrived in the distant realm of the Princess Micomicona and had encountered the giant enemy.
Seeing all his precious wine floating away, the innkeeper became enraged and set upon Don Quixote with his bare fists; but the beating had no effect on the knight except, perhaps, that it made him sleep more soundly. It was not until the barber had drenched him in cold water that he came to his senses.
The Princess Micomicona, who had been listening to the saving of her kingdom outside the door, became eager, after she had heard the tempest subside, to enter and see the conquered giant; but she retired hastily and with a slight exclamation of horrified modesty on seeing the abbreviated length of her defender's night-shirt, the tail of which had been sacrificed to his prayers in the wilderness.