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“Does this hermit have chickens, by any chance?” asked Sancho.

“There are few hermits who do not,” responded Don Quixote, “because the ones today are not like those in the deserts of Egypt, who dressed in palm leaves and ate roots. And you should not think that because I speak well of earlier hermits, I speak ill of modern ones; I mean to say only that the penances of modern hermits are not as harsh and rigorous as the older ones, but all of them are still good; at least, I judge them to be good; in the worst of circumstances, the hypocrite who pretends to be good does less harm than the public sinner.”

While they were conversing, they saw a man coming toward them, walking quickly and using a stick to prod a mule that was loaded down with lances and halberds. When he reached them, he greeted them and passed by. Don Quixote said:

“Stop, my good man, for it seems you are traveling faster than that mule would like.”

“I can’t stop, Señor,” the man responded, “because the weapons you see me carrying must be used tomorrow, and I can’t possibly stop, and so go with God. But if you want to know why I’m carrying them, I plan to spend the night at the inn that’s past the hermitage, and if you’re traveling the same way, you’ll find me there, and then I’ll tell you some wonderful things. And so again, go with God.”

And he prodded his mule so much that Don Quixote did not have the opportunity to ask him what wonderful things he planned to tell them; and since he was rather curious and was always filled with the desire to learn new things, he said that they should leave immediately and go to spend the night at the inn, not stopping at the hermitage where the cousin wanted them to stay.

And so they mounted their animals and all three followed the road that led directly to the inn, where they arrived shortly before nightfall. On the way, the cousin said to Don Quixote that they should stop at the hermitage for something to drink. As soon as Sancho Panza heard this he turned his donkey toward the hermitage, and Don Quixote and the cousin did the same, but as Sancho’s bad luck would have it, the hermit was not at home, which is what they were told by an assistant hermit whom they found in the hermitage. They asked for some good wine, and he responded that his master did not have any, but if they wanted some cheap water, he would gladly give it to them.

“If I had a thirst for water,” responded Sancho, “there are wells along the road where I could quench it. O wedding of Camacho, O plenty in the house of Don Diego, I miss you so often!”

They left the hermitage and spurred their mounts on to the inn, and in a little while they came upon a boy who was walking, not very quickly, in front of them, and they soon overtook him. He was carrying a sword over his shoulder, and on it there was a bundle or pack, apparently of his clothes, which appeared to be breeches or pantaloons, and a short cape, and a shirt or two, because he was wearing a velvet doublet, with some glimmers of satin, and a shirt hanging out, and his hose was of silk, and his shoes square-toed, in the fashion of the court; he must have been eighteen or nineteen years old, with a joyful face and, it seemed, an agile body. As he walked he sang seguidillas2 to relieve the tedium of the road. When they reached him he had just finished singing one that the cousin committed to memory, and it is said that it said:

I’m forced to go to the war

because I’m so poor;

if I had money, believe

me I wouldn’t leave.

The first to speak to him was Don Quixote, who said:

“Your grace travels very lightly, gallant Señor. Where are you going? Let us know, if you care to tell us.”

To which the boy responded:

“My traveling so lightly is because of the heat and poverty; and I am going to war.”

“Why poverty?” asked Don Quixote. “The heat is enough of a reason.”

“Señor,” replied the lad, “in this bundle I’m carrying some velvet pantaloons, companions to this doublet; if I wear them out on the road, I won’t be able to honor myself with them