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Here lies the sad cold

body of a lover,

a shepherd destroyed

by an icy heart.

The pitiless hand

of cruel beauty killed him,

extending the power

of love’s tyranny.

Then they scattered many flowers and branches over the grave, offered their condolences to his friend Ambrosio, and took their leave of him. Vivaldo and his companion said goodbye, and Don Quixote bade farewell to his hosts and to the two travelers, who asked him to accompany them to Sevilla because it was a place so well-suited to finding adventures, since more were to be found there on every street and around every corner than in any other city. Don Quixote thanked them for the information and their clear desire to favor him, but he said that for the moment he should not nor did he wish to go to Sevilla, until he had emptied those mountains that were full, it was said, of villainous thieves. Seeing his firm determination, the travelers did not wish to importune him, and saying goodbye again, they left him and continued their journey, during which they had much to talk about, from the history of Marcela and Grióstomo to the madness of Don Quixote. Our knight resolved to seek out the shepherdess Marcela and offer to serve her in any way he could. But matters did not turn out as he expected, as is recounted in the course of this true history, the second part of which concludes here.

Part Three of the Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha

CHAPTER XV

In which is recounted the unfortunate adventure that Don Quixote happened upon when he happened upon some heartless Yanguesans

The learned Cide Hamete Benengeli tells us that as soon as Don Quixote took his leave of his hosts and all the others who had been present at the burial of the shepherd Grisóstomo, he and his squire entered the same forest the shepherdess Marcela had entered; and having ridden more than two hours, looking for her everywhere and not finding her, they decided to stop in a meadow full of new grass where a cool, gentle stream ran, so welcoming that it invited and obliged one to spend the hottest hours of the day there, for the rigors of the afternoon were just beginning.

Don Quixote and Sancho dismounted and, leaving the donkey and Rocinante free to graze on the abundant grass that grew there, pillaged the saddlebags, and without any ceremony, in peace and harmony, master and servant companionably ate what they found in them.

Sancho had not bothered to hobble Rocinante, certain that he knew him to be so meek and so little given to lustful thoughts that all the mares of the pastures of Córdoba could not tempt him to go astray. As luck and the devil, who is not always sleeping, would have it, grazing in that valley was a herd of Galician ponies tended by some drovers from Yanguas,1 whose custom it is to take a siesta with their animals in grassy, well-watered places and sites, and the spot where Don Quixote happened to find himself served the Yanguesans’ purposes very well.

As it happened, Rocinante felt the desire to pleasure himself with the ladies, and as soon as he picked up their scent he abandoned his natural ways and customs, did not ask permission of his owner, broke into a brisk little trot, and went off to communicate his need to them. But the ponies, who apparently had more desire to graze than anything else, greeted him with hooves and teeth, so that in a short while his cinches broke and he was left naked, without a saddle. But what he must have regretted most was that the drovers, seeing the violence being done to their mares, hurried over with their staffs and hit him so many times that they knocked him to the ground, badly injured.

By now Don Quixote and Sancho, who had seen Rocinante’s beating, had run up, panting heavily; and Don Quixote said to Sancho:

“From what I can see, Sancho my friend, these are not knights but base people of low breeding. I say this because you can certainly assist me in taking the proper revenge for the offense that has been done to Rocinante before our very eyes.”

“What the devil kind of revenge are we supposed to take,” Sancho