'Call now, Master Andrew,' said he, 'for thy righter of wrongs; and thou shalt see that he cannot undo this, though I think I have not finished the doing of it, for I have yet a desire to flay thee alive as thou didst fear.'
But he untied him at last, and gave him leave to go and seek out his Judge, to the end that he might execute the sentence he had pronounced. Andrew departed somewhat discontented, swearing to search for the valiant Don Quixote of the Mancha, and relate to him point for point all that had passed, that the Farmer might be repaid sevenfold. Nevertheless he wept as he went along, and his master remained behind laughing, and thus did the valiant Don Quixote right this wrong.
As for the Knight, it appeared to him that he had made a very happy and noble beginning to his feats of arms. And as he rode towards his village, he recited to himself in a low voice these words: 'Well mayest thou call thyself happy above all other women of the earth, O! above all beauties, beautiful Dulcinea of Toboso; since it has fallen to thy lot to hold submissive to thy will a Knight so renowned and valorous as is and ever shall be, Don Quixote of the Mancha, who, as all the world knows, but yesterday received the order of Knighthood, and to-day hath destroyed the greatest outrage and wrong that injustice and cruelty could commit. To-day hath he wrested the scourge from the hand of the pitiless foe who so cruelly beat the delicate infant.'
Soon afterwards he came to a spot where the road branched into four, and there came into his fancy the cross-ways he had read of, where the Knights Errant used to ponder which of the roads they should take. And that he might imitate them, he let slip the reins on Rozinante's neck, submitting his will to that of his steed, who followed his first intention, which was to return home to his own stable. And having travelled some two miles, Don Quixote discovered a great troop of people, who, as it was afterwards known, were certain merchants of Toledo, that rode towards Murcia to buy silks. They were six in number, and came with their parasols or sun umbrellas, and four serving-men a-horseback, and three lackeys.
Scarce had Don Quixote perceived them when he straight imagined them to be a new adventure. And so that he might imitate as far as possible the passages which he had read in his books, he settled himself with a gallant air and resolute bearing firmly in his stirrups, grasped his lance, brought his target over his breast, and stood, waiting, posted in the middle of the road, for those whom he took to be Knights Errant like himself.
And when they were so near that they might hear and see him, he lifted up his voice and said: 'Let all the world stand and pass no further, if all the world will not confess that there is not in all the world a more beautiful damsel than the Empress of the Mancha, the peerless Dulcinea of Toboso.'
The merchants stopped at the sound of these words to behold the marvellous and ridiculous shape of him that spake them, and at once suspected the madness of the speaker.
Curious to know the meaning of the confession he demanded from them, one of the merchants, who was a bit of a wag and very sharp-witted, said to Don Quixote: 'Sir Knight, we know not who that good lady may be you speak of. Show her therefore to us, and if she be as beautiful as you report, we will with right good-will, and without further trouble, confess the truth of what you demand.'
'If I did show her to you,' replied Don Quixote, 'what merit would there be in confessing a truth which is clear to all beholders? The importance of my demand is that without seeing her you must believe it, which if you refuse to do I challenge you all to battle, ye proud preposterous crew. And now come on! One by one as the order of Knighthood requires, or all at once as is the custom and base usage of those of your breed. Here I await you, confiding in the right I have on my side.'
'Sir Knight,' replied the Merchant, 'I request you in the name of all the Princes here present, that in order that we may not burden our conscience by confessing a thing which we have never beheld nor heard, you will be pleased to show us some portrait of the lady, although it be no bigger than a grain of wheat. For I do believe that we are already so much on your side, that though her portrait showed her to us a-squint of one eye, and wearing a hump on her back, we should say all that you wish in her favour.'