Sancho, finding himself so unexpectedly assailed, and hearing the abuse

poured upon him, seized the pack-saddle with one hand, and with the other

gave the barber a cuff that bathed his teeth in blood. The barber,

however, was not so ready to relinquish the prize he had made in the

pack-saddle; on the contrary, he raised such an outcry that everyone in

the inn came running to know what the noise and quarrel meant. "Here, in

the name of the king and justice!" he cried, "this thief and highwayman

wants to kill me for trying to recover my property."

"You lie," said Sancho, "I am no highwayman; it was in fair war my master

Don Quixote won these spoils."

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Don Quixote was standing by at the time, highly pleased to see his

squire's stoutness, both offensive and defensive, and from that time

forth he reckoned him a man of mettle, and in his heart resolved to dub

him a knight on the first opportunity that presented itself, feeling sure

that the order of chivalry would be fittingly bestowed upon him.

In the course of the altercation, among other things the barber said,

"Gentlemen, this pack-saddle is mine as surely as I owe God a death, and

I know it as well as if I had given birth to it, and here is my ass in

the stable who will not let me lie; only try it, and if it does not fit

him like a glove, call me a rascal; and what is more, the same day I was

robbed of this, they robbed me likewise of a new brass basin, never yet

handselled, that would fetch a crown any day."

At this Don Quixote could not keep himself from answering; and

interposing between the two, and separating them, he placed the

pack-saddle on the ground, to lie there in sight until the truth was

established, and said, "Your worships may perceive clearly and plainly

the error under which this worthy squire lies when he calls a basin which

was, is, and shall be the helmet of Mambrino which I won from him in air

war, and made myself master of by legitimate and lawful possession. With

the pack-saddle I do not concern myself; but I may tell you on that head

that my squire Sancho asked my permission to strip off the caparison of

this vanquished poltroon's steed, and with it adorn his own; I allowed

him, and he took it; and as to its having been changed from a caparison

into a pack-saddle, I can give no explanation except the usual one, that

such transformations will take place in adventures of chivalry. To

confirm all which, run, Sancho my son, and fetch hither the helmet which

this good fellow calls a basin."




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