He finally went to the braying ones, and, having begged their leave to address them, he began a stirring discourse on war and peace that lasted a considerable time. He flayed those who would go into battle for trifling matters; but just when he seemed to be about to win the braying ones over to his way of thinking, he had to pause for breath.
Sancho thought it his duty to interrupt the silence and take up the broken thread here, so he continued in his own way, keeping more or less to the same subject. He started in by praising his master—the Knight of the Lions!—his bravery, his generosity, his knowledge of Latin (which Sancho unfortunately did not understand), and all his other virtues, and suddenly he bellowed out that they were fools to take offense at hearing some one bray. Then he became reminiscent and related how he as a boy used to like to go about braying, and told how envious every one in his village was because of his great gift in that direction. "Wait a bit and listen!" said he. "I'll show you!" And before his master had a chance to stop him, he had pinched his nose and brayed—had brayed such a bray that all the valleys and dales gave echo.
When some of the men heard the braying they thought he had come there to mock them, and they set upon him with such fury and force that Don Quixote, though he did his best to defend him, had to spur Rocinante into retreat, in order to save his own life. But Sancho was both stoned and pummeled into insensibility, and then he was put on his donkey and tied there; and when he came to, he had to put his trust in Dapple, who was forced to smell his way back to Rocinante.
The braying troops remained in the field until evening, but since no opposing army appeared, they returned to their village after dark.
CHAPTER XXVIII
Of Matters That Benengeli Says He Who Reads Them Will Know, If He Reads Them with Attention
WHEN Dapple reached his faithful playmate, Rocinante, Sancho fell from his back and rolled at his master's feet. There he lay; but Don Quixote was angry and showed no compassion.
"In an evil hour didst thou take to braying, Sancho! Where hast thou learned that it is well done to mention the rope in the house of the man that has been hanged? To the music of brays what harmonies couldst thou expect to get but cudgels?"
Having thus reprimanded his squire, the good knight looked to his wounds, which Sancho complained of, but found him only discolored.