As for the Knight, when he found himself abused by so base a rascal—as he considered him—his anger was roused to its height, and he caught the trooper by the throat with both hands, in such a way that if he had not been speedily rescued by his companions, he would have given up his life there and then, before Don Quixote would have released his hold.
The Innkeeper was forced to assist his fellow-officer, and his wife, seeing her husband engaged anew in battle, raised a fresh cry, which was caught up by her daughter and Maritornes, who called for help from all the company.
Sancho, seeing all that passed, called out: 'By my faith, all that my Master hath said of the enchantments of this Castle is true, for it is not possible for a man to live quietly in it for an hour together.'
Don Fernando soon parted the trooper and Don Quixote, but the officers did not cease to demand their prisoner, and called on the others to help them to bind him and deliver him up to their pleasure, for so the service of the King and the Holy Brotherhood required, in whose name they demanded help in arresting this robber and brigand of the public paths and highways.
Don Quixote laughed to hear them speak so idly, and said with great calmness: 'Come hither, filthy and baseborn crew. Dare you call the loosing of the enchained, the freeing of prisoners, the assisting of the wretched, the raising of such as are fallen, the giving to those in want,—dare you, I say, call these things robbing on the highway? O infamous brood, how little do you know of the virtue which lies in Knight Errantry! We give you to understand the sin and error in which you lie, in not adoring the very shadow, much more the actual presence of a Knight Errant. Come hither, I say, and tell me who was the blockhead who signed a warrant of arrest against such a Knight as I am? Who was he, that knows not that Knights Errant are free from all tribunals; their sword is their law, their valour their court, and their own will and pleasure their statutes? I say again, What madman was he that knows not the privileges that belong to a Knight Errant, from the day he is dubbed a Knight and devotes himself to a Knightly calling? What Knight Errant did ever pay tax or custom? What tailor ever had of him money for a suit of clothes? What Constable ever lodged him in his Castle, and made him pay his shot? What King hath not placed him at his own table? And, finally, what Knight Errant was there ever, is, or shall be in the world, who hath not the courage himself alone to give four hundred cudgellings to four hundred officers if they stand in his way?'
Whilst Don Quixote raved in this way, the Curate was trying to persuade the troopers that Don Quixote was out of his wits, and that even if they did arrest him they would have to release him afterwards, as he was a madman.
'Indeed,' said the Curate, 'you must not take him, nor do I believe that he will let himself be taken.'
The officers were with difficulty persuaded to this view, but they had seen enough of Don Quixote to convince them of his madness, and in the end they agreed that it was better the Curate should endeavour, as he proposed, to take him to his home, than that they should arrest him at the risk of their lives.
The dispute between Sancho and the Barber was now easily settled, for there was very little left of the pannel for Sancho to keep; and the Curate, without Don Quixote knowing anything of it, gave the Barber eight reals for the price of his basin, so that they should hear nothing further of the dispute of Mambrino's helmet.