His wife and his daughter, seeing Don Quixote standing by, cried out to him: 'Help, Sir Knight! help my poor father, whom two wicked men are thrashing like a bundle of corn.'
To this Don Quixote answered leisurely and with great gravity: 'Beautiful damsel, your prayer cannot at the present time be granted, for I am not permitted to engage in any new adventure until I have finished the one I have promised to carry through. And all that I can now do in your service is what I now say to you. Run unto your father and bid him continue and maintain his battle manfully until I demand leave of the Princess Micomicona to help him out of his distress. For if she will give me leave, you may make sure that he will be delivered.'
'As I am a sinner,' cried Maritornes, who was standing by, 'before you get that leave you speak of my Master will be in the other world.'
'Permit me but to get the leave I speak of,' replied Don Quixote, 'and it matters not whether he be in the other world or no. For I would bring him back again in spite of the other world itself, or at least, I will take such a revenge on those that sent him there that you shall be well content.'
Without saying more he went in and fell on his knees before Dorothea, demanding her in knightly and courtly phrases that she would give him leave to go and aid the Constable of the Castle who was then plunged in deep distress.
The Princess granted him leave very willingly, and instantly buckling on his shield, and laying hands on his sword, he ran to the Inn door where the two guests were still fighting with the Innkeeper. But as soon as he arrived he stopped and stood still, although Maritornes and the Hostess asked him twice or thrice the cause of his delay in assisting their master and husband.
'I delay,' said Don Quixote, 'because it is not permitted me to lay hands to my sword against Squire-like men who are not dubbed Knights. But call me here my Squire Sancho, for this defence and revenge belong to him as his duty.'
All this took place outside the Inn door, where fists and blows were given and taken much to the Innkeeper's cost, and to the rage and grief of Maritornes and the Hostess and her daughter, who were like to run mad on seeing Don Quixote's cowardice and the mischief their master, husband, and father was enduring.
However, though the laws of Knighthood hindered Don Quixote from fighting, he soon persuaded the guests, by his wise reproofs of their conduct, to leave the Innkeeper alone, and pay him what was owing by them; and all would have been at peace in the Inn if another traveller had not arrived there at this moment. This was none other than the Barber from whom Don Quixote took away the helmet of Mambrino, and Sancho Panza the harness or furniture of the ass, whereof he made an exchange of his own. And while the Barber was leading his beast to the stable, he caught sight of Sancho Panza mending some part of the pack-saddle, or pannel, as it was called.
As soon as he had eyed him he knew him, and at once set upon Sancho, saying: 'Ah, Sir thief, here I have you! Give up my basin and my pannel, with all the trappings you stole from me.'