Before she could answer, the Curate said: 'Towards what Kingdoms would you travel? Are you for your native land of Micomicon?'
She, who knew very well what to answer, being no babe, replied: 'Yes, Sir, my way lies towards that Kingdom.'
'If it be so,' said the Curate, 'you must pass through the village where I dwell, and from thence your Ladyship must take the road to Carthagena, where you may embark. And, if you have a prosperous journey, you may come within the space of nine years to the Lake Meona, I mean Meolidas, which stands on this side of your Highness's Kingdom some hundred days' journey or more.'
'You are mistaken, good Sir,' said she, 'for it is not yet fully two years since I left there, and, though I never had fair weather, I have arrived in time to see what I so longed for, the presence of the renowned Don Quixote of the Mancha, whose glory was known to me as soon as my foot touched the shores of Spain.'
'No more,' cried Don Quixote. 'I cannot abide to hear myself praised, for I am a sworn enemy to flattery. And though I know what you speak is but truth, yet it offends mine ears. And I can tell you this, at least, that whether I have valour or not, I will use it in your service, even to the loss of my life. But let me know, Master Curate, what has brought you here?'
'You must know, then,' replied the Curate, 'that Master Nicholas, the Barber, and myself travelled towards Seville to recover certain sums of money which a kinsman of mine in the Indies had sent me. And passing yesterday through this way we were set upon by four robbers, who took everything that we had. And it is said about here, that those who robbed us were certain galley slaves, who they say were set at liberty, almost on this very spot, by a man so valiant that in spite of the guard he released them all. And doubtless he must be out of his wits, or else he must be as great a knave as they, to loose the wolf among the sheep, and rebel against his King by taking from the galleys their lawful prey.'
Sancho had told the Curate of the adventure with the galley slaves, and the Curate spoke of it to see what Don Quixote would say. The Knight, however, durst not confess his part in the adventure, but rode on, changing colour at every word the Curate spoke.
When the Curate had finished, Sancho burst out: 'By my father, Master Curate, he that did that deed was my Master, and that not for want of warning, for I told him beforehand that it was a sin to deliver them, and that they were great rogues who had been sent to the galleys to punish them for their crimes.'
'You bottlehead!' replied Don Quixote. 'It is not the duty of Knights Errant to examine whether the afflicted, enslaved, and oppressed whom they meet by the way are in sorrow for their own default; they must relieve them because they are needy and in distress, looking at their sorrow and not at their crimes. And if any but the holy Master Curate shall find fault with me on this account, I will tell him that he knows nought of Knighthood, and that he lies in his throat, and this I will make him know by the power of my sword.'