After many embraces, the curate and the barber were ready to make their departure when the landlord came running out with some papers which he handed to the curate as a gift. The landlord said it was the manuscript of the novel, "Rinconete and Cortadillo," a part of the contents of the valise in which he had found the story of "Ill-Advised Curiosity," which the curate had read aloud at the inn.
The curate thanked the innkeeper, saying that he hoped it was as good as the other novel. Then he and the barber covered their faces that they might not be recognized by Don Quixote, and took their places behind the cart, mounted on their mules. The three officers of the Brotherhood had been brought by the curate to escort them to El Toboso, armed with muskets. And then Sancho Panza, mounted on his donkey, led Rocinante by the reins. As the procession started, the landlady came out to weep make-believe tears for Don Quixote, who begged her to shed none, for in the end, he said, virtue would triumph.
At the head of the procession came the ox-cart, the officers of the Brotherhood marching beside it, then followed Sancho Panza on his ass, leading Rocinante by the bridle, and in the rear trailed the curate and the barber on their mules. The slow pace of the oxen had to be imitated by the rest, so the whole procession took on a solemn and mysterious aspect, which was enhanced by the encaged Don Quixote's stiff and stone-like form leaning against the wooden bars.
They had traveled several leagues, when the curate heard the sound of riders approaching from behind. Turning in his saddle he perceived six or seven men, mounted on mules, and riding at a quick pace. They had soon overtaken the procession, and exchanged greetings with the curate and the barber. One of the travelers was a canon of Toledo, and on observing the fettered Don Quixote, with the armed officers of the Brotherhood as an escort, he took it for granted that the knight was some dangerous highwayman. Yet, scrutinizing the strange parade, he could not help asking questions. So when he inquired of one of the officers why Don Quixote was being transported in that way, the officer did not know what to say but referred him for an explanation to Don Quixote himself.
The knight errant had heard the canon's question, and he offered to give him the information if he knew anything about errantry. As the canon said he had read a good deal about knights errant and their deeds, Don Quixote was quick to tell of his misfortune—how he had been encaged and made helpless by enchantment. At this moment the curate, seeing that the canon was talking to Don Quixote, and fearing a mishap in the carrying out of their plan, came up and joined in the conversation. He corroborated what the knight errant had just said, and added that it was not for his sins that he was enchanted, but because of his enemies' hatred of virtuous deeds, of which this famous Knight of the Rueful Countenance was the strongest champion in their age.
When the good canon heard the two of them talk like that, he was at a loss for words and felt he had to cross himself, in which action his attendants joined him. But as luck would have it, Sancho Panza had been listening, and seeing the curate disguised by a mask, the suspicion crept into his head that he was trying to play a joke on his master. So he burst into the conversation with a grudge against them all.
"Well, sirs, you may like it or not," he declared, "but my master is as much enchanted as my mother! He is in his full senses; he can eat, and sleep, and drink. Then why do they want me to believe that he is enchanted? I have heard it said that when you are enchanted you cannot do any of these things, nor talk. And my master will talk more than thirty lawyers would if you do not stop him." Then turning to the curate, he exclaimed: "And, señor curate, señor curate! Do you think I do not know you? Well, I can tell you I do, for all your face is covered; and I can tell you I am up to you, however you may hide your tricks. If it had not been for your Worship, my master would be married to the Princess Micomicona this minute, and I should be a Count at least—for no less was to be expected."
And then the faithful Sancho went on to say that he had told all this that the curate might weigh in his conscience the pranks he had played on Don Quixote, and for which he would have to pay in heaven (if he ever should come there) unless he did penance now. Here the barber thought it best to put an end to Sancho's communications, and offered him a place in the cage beside his master, but Sancho was quick to retort: "Mind how you talk, master barber, for shaving is not everything; and as to the enchantment of my master, God knows the truth!"
Soon after Sancho had commenced his tirade, the curate thought it best, having listened to his own denunciation, to explain everything concerning the knight errant and his squire to the canon. Therefore he asked him to ride on ahead with him. When the canon had heard the whole story, he remarked that he thought that books of chivalry were really harmful, for not one of them was truthful. He was amused when the curate related how he and the barber had burned nearly all of Don Quixote's treasures in literature of this sort.
"But what mind," asked the canon, "that is not wholly barbarous and uncultured can find pleasure in reading of how a great tower full of knights sails away across the sea like a ship with a fair wind, and will be to-night in Lombardy and to-morrow morning in the land of Prester John of the Indies?"