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One of the four servants said:

“Unless this is a trick of some kind, I can’t believe that men of intelligence, which is what all of you are, or seem to be, can dare say and affirm that this isn’t a basin and that isn’t a saddle; but as I see that you do affirm and say it, I suppose there’s some mysterious reason why you claim something so contrary to what truth and experience show us, and I swear”—and here he came out with a categorical oath—“that not all the people alive in the world today can make me think that this isn’t a barber’s basin, and that isn’t a jackass’s packsaddle.”

“It might belong to a jenny,” said the priest.

“It doesn’t matter,” said the servant, “that’s not the point, the question is whether it is or isn’t a packsaddle, as your graces claim.”

Upon hearing this, one of the officers in the Holy Brotherhood who had come in and heard the discussion and dispute said in a fury and a rage:

“If that’s not a saddle, then my father’s not my father, and whoever says otherwise must be bleary-eyed with drink.”

“Thou liest like the base villain thou art,” responded Don Quixote.

And raising the lance that had never left his hands, he prepared to strike him so hard on the head that if the man had not dodged the blow, it would have knocked him down. The lance shattered on the ground, and the other officers, seeing their companion so badly treated, shouted for help for the Holy Brotherhood.

The innkeeper, who was a member,2 went in for his staff and sword and then stood by the side of his comrades; Don Luis’s servants surrounded him so that he could not escape during the disturbance; the second barber, seeing everything in a turmoil, seized his packsaddle again, and so did Sancho; Don Quixote drew his sword and charged the officers. Don Luis shouted at his servants to leave him and go to the assistance of Don Quixote, and Cardenio and Don Fernando, who were fighting alongside Don Quixote. The priest shouted, the innkeeper’s wife called out, her daughter cried, Maritornes wept, Dorotea was confused, Luscinda distraught, and Doña Clara in a swoon. The barber beat Sancho; Sancho pounded the barber; Don Luis, when one of his servants dared seize him by the arm to keep him from leaving, punched him so hard his mouth was bathed in blood; the judge defended him; Don Fernando had one of the officers under his feet and was trampling him with great pleasure; the innkeeper cried out again, calling for help for the Holy Brotherhood: in short, the entire inn was filled with cries, shouts, yells, confusions, fears, assaults, misfortunes, attacks with knives, fists, sticks, feet, and the spilling of blood. And in the midst of this chaos, this enormous confusion, it passed through the mind of Don Quixote that he had been plunged headlong into the discord in Agramante’s camp,3 and in a voice that thundered throughout the inn, he cried:

“Hold, all of you! All of you sheathe your swords, stop fighting, and listen to me, if you wish to live!”

At this great shout everyone stopped, and he continued, saying:

“Did I not tell you, Señores, that this castle was enchanted and that some legion of demons must inhabit it? In confirmation of which I wish you to see with your own eyes what has transpired here and how the discord of Agramante’s camp has descended upon us. Look, here they do battle for the sword, there for the horse, over there for the eagle, right here for the helmet, and all of us are fighting and all of us are quarreling.4 Come then, your grace, Señor Judge, and your grace, Señor Priest; one of you take the part of King Agramante and the other that of King Sobrino and make peace among us, because in the name of God Almighty it is a great wickedness for so many wellborn and distinguished people to kill one another for such trivial reasons.”

The officers of the Holy Brotherhood, who did not understand Don Quixote’s language and found themselves being mistreated by Don Fernando, Cardenio, and their comrades, did not wish