Seeing this, the curate and the barber asked him what had happenedhim that he gave himself such rough treatment.
"What should happen me?" replied Sancho, "but to have lost fromone hand to the other, in a moment, three ass-colts, each of them likea castle?"
"How is that?" said the barber.
"I have lost the note-book," said Sancho, "that contained the letterto Dulcinea, and an order signed by my master in which he directed hisniece to give me three ass-colts out of four or five he had athome;" and he then told them about the loss of Dapple.
The curate consoled him, telling him that when his master wasfound he would get him to renew the order, and make a fresh draft onpaper, as was usual and customary; for those made in notebooks werenever accepted or honoured.
Sancho comforted himself with this, and said if that were so theloss of Dulcinea's letter did not trouble him much, for he had italmost by heart, and it could be taken down from him wherever andwhenever they liked.
"Repeat it then, Sancho," said the barber, "and we will write itdown afterwards."
Sancho Panza stopped to scratch his head to bring back the letter tohis memory, and balanced himself now on one foot, now the other, onemoment staring at the ground, the next at the sky, and after havinghalf gnawed off the end of a finger and kept them in suspensewaiting for him to begin, he said, after a long pause, "By God,senor licentiate, devil a thing can I recollect of the letter; butit said at the beginning, 'Exalted and scrubbing Lady.'"
"It cannot have said 'scrubbing,'" said the barber, "but'superhuman' or 'sovereign.'"
"That is it," said Sancho; "then, as well as I remember, it went on,'The wounded, and wanting of sleep, and the pierced, kisses yourworship's hands, ungrateful and very unrecognised fair one; and itsaid something or other about health and sickness that he wassending her; and from that it went tailing off until it ended with'Yours till death, the Knight of the Rueful Countenance."
It gave them no little amusement, both of them, to see what a goodmemory Sancho had, and they complimented him greatly upon it, andbegged him to repeat the letter a couple of times more, so that theytoo might get it by heart to write it out by-and-by. Sancho repeatedit three times, and as he did, uttered three thousand moreabsurdities; then he told them more about his master but he never saida word about the blanketing that had befallen himself in that inn,into which he refused to enter. He told them, moreover, how hislord, if he brought him a favourable answer from the lady Dulcinea delToboso, was to put himself in the way of endeavouring to become anemperor, or at least a monarch; for it had been so settled betweenthem, and with his personal worth and the might of his arm it was aneasy matter to come to be one: and how on becoming one his lord was tomake a marriage for him （for he would be a widower by that time, asa matter of course） and was to give him as a wife one of the damselsof the empress, the heiress of some rich and grand state on themainland, having nothing to do with islands of any sort, for he didnot care for them now. All this Sancho delivered with so muchcomposure- wiping his nose from time to time- and with so littlecommon-sense that his two hearers were again filled with wonder at theforce of Don Quixote's madness that could run away with this poorman's reason. They did not care to take the trouble of disabusinghim of his error, as they considered that since it did not in anyway hurt his conscience it would be better to leave him in it, andthey would have all the more amusement in listening to hissimplicities; and so they bade him pray to God for his lord'shealth, as it was a very likely and a very feasible thing for him incourse of time to come to be an emperor, as he said, or at least anarchbishop or some other dignitary of equal rank.
To which Sancho made answer, "If fortune, sirs, should bringthings about in such a way that my master should have a mind,instead of being an emperor, to be an archbishop, I should like toknow what archbishops-errant commonly give their squires?"
"They commonly give them," said the curate, some simple beneficeor cure, or some place as sacristan which brings them a good fixedincome, not counting the altar fees, which may be reckoned at asmuch more."
"But for that," said Sancho, "the squire must be unmarried, and mustknow, at any rate, how to help at mass, and if that be so, woe isme, for I am married already and I don't know the first letter ofthe A B C. What will become of me if my master takes a fancy to bean archbishop and not an emperor, as is usual and customary withknights-errant?"
"Be not uneasy, friend Sancho," said the barber, "for we willentreat your master, and advise him, even urging it upon him as a caseof conscience, to become an emperor and not an archbishop, becauseit will be easier for him as he is more valiant than lettered."
"So I have thought," said Sancho; "though I can tell you he is fitfor anything: what I mean to do for my part is to pray to our Lordto place him where it may be best for him, and where he may be able tobestow most favours upon me."
"You speak like a man of sense," said the curate, "and you will beacting like a good Christian; but what must now be done is to takesteps to coax your master out of that useless penance you say he isperforming; and we had best turn into this inn to consider what planto adopt, and also to dine, for it is now time."
Sancho said they might go in, but that he would wait thereoutside, and that he would tell them afterwards the reason why hewas unwilling, and why it did not suit him to enter it; but bebegged them to bring him out something to eat, and to let it be hot,and also to bring barley for Rocinante. They left him and went in, andpresently the barber brought him out something to eat. By-and-by,after they had between them carefully thought over what they should doto carry out their object, the curate hit upon an idea very welladapted to humour Don Quixote, and effect their purpose; and hisnotion, which he explained to the barber, was that he himself shouldassume the disguise of a wandering damsel, while the other shouldtry as best he could to pass for a squire, and that they should thusproceed to where Don Quixote was, and he, pretending to be anaggrieved and distressed damsel, should ask a favour of him, whichas a valiant knight-errant he could not refuse to grant; and thefavour he meant to ask him was that he should accompany her whithershe would conduct him, in order to redress a wrong which a wickedknight had done her, while at the same time she should entreat him notto require her to remove her mask, nor ask her any question touchingher circumstances until he had righted her with the wicked knight. Andhe had no doubt that Don Quixote would comply with any request made inthese terms, and that in this way they might remove him and take himto his own village, where they would endeavour to find out if hisextraordinary madness admitted of any kind of remedy.
CHAPTER XXVII
OF HOW THE CURATE AND THE BARBER PROCEEDED WITH THEIR SCHEME;TOGETHER WITH OTHER MATTERS WORTHY OF RECORD IN THIS GREAT HISTORY
THE curate's plan did not seem a bad one to the barber, but on thecontrary so good that they immediately set about putting it inexecution. They begged a petticoat and hood of the landlady, leavingher in pledge a new cassock of the curate's; and the barber made abeard out of a grey-brown or red ox-tail in which the landlord used tostick his comb. The landlady asked them what they wanted thesethings for, and the curate told her in a few words about the madnessof Don Quixote, and how this disguise was intended to get him awayfrom the mountain where he then was. The landlord and landladyimmediately came to the conclusion that the madman was their guest,the balsam man and master of the blanketed squire, and they told thecurate all that had passed between him and them, not omitting whatSancho had been so silent about. Finally the landlady dressed up thecurate in a style that left nothing to be desired; she put on him acloth petticoat with black velvet stripes a palm broad, all slashed,and a bodice of green velvet set off by a binding of white satin,which as well as the petticoat must have been made in the time of kingWamba. The curate would not let them hood him, but put on his head alittle quilted linen cap which he used for a night-cap, and boundhis forehead with a strip of black silk, while with another he madea mask with which he concealed his beard and face very well. He thenput on his hat, which was broad enough to serve him for an umbrella,and enveloping himself in his cloak seated himself woman-fashion onhis mule, while the barber mounted his with a beard down to thewaist of mingled red and white, for it was, as has been said, the tailof a clay-red ox.
They took leave of all, and of the good Maritornes, who, sinner asshe was, promised to pray a rosary of prayers that God might grantthem success in such an arduous and Christian undertaking as that theyhad in hand. But hardly had he sallied forth from the inn when itstruck the curate that he was doing wrong in rigging himself out inthat fashion, as it was an indecorous thing for a priest to dresshimself that way even though much might depend upon it; and sayingso to the barber he begged him to change dresses, as it was fitterhe should be the distressed damsel, while he himself would play thesquire's part, which would be less derogatory to his dignity;otherwise he was resolved to have nothing more to do with thematter, and let the devil take Don Quixote. Just at this moment Sanchocame up, and on seeing the pair in such a costume he was unable torestrain his laughter; the barber, however, agreed to do as the curatewished, and, altering their plan, the curate went on to instruct himhow to play his part and what to say to Don Quixote to induce andcompel him to come with them and give up his fancy for the place hehad chosen for his idle penance. The barber told him he could manageit properly without any instruction, and as he did not care to dresshimself up until they were near where Don Quixote was, he folded upthe garments, and the curate adjusted his beard, and they set outunder the guidance of Sancho Panza, who went along telling them of theencounter with the madman they met in the Sierra, saying nothing,however, about the finding of the valise and its contents; for withall his simplicity the lad was a trifle covetous.