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The shouts of the wretch being tossed in the blanket were so loud and so many that they reached the ears of his master, who, deciding to listen carefully, believed some new adventure was under way, until it became clear that the man who was shouting was his squire; after he turned his horse around and reached the inn at a laborious gallop, and found it closed, he rode around it to see if he could find a way in, but as soon as he came to the walls of the corral, which were not very high, he saw the bad turn being done to his squire. He saw him going up and down in the air with so much grace and speed that if his wrath had permitted it, I think he would have laughed. He attempted to climb from his horse to the top of the wall, but he was so bruised and stiff he could not dismount; and so, standing in his stirrups, he began to call those who were tossing Sancho in the blanket more insults and abusive names than it is possible to write down, but this did not stop them from laughing and doing their work, nor did the flying Sancho leave off his complaints, sometimes mixed with threats and sometimes with pleas; none of it did much good, however, until the men stopped from sheer weariness. Then they brought Sancho his donkey and placed him on it and his overcoat on him. And the compassionate Maritornes, seeing him so exhausted, thought it would be a good idea to help him with a pitcher of water, and so she brought him one from the well because the water there was colder. Sancho took the pitcher, raised it to his mouth, and stopped when he heard his master call to him, saying:

“Sancho my son, do not drink water! My son, do not drink it, for it will kill you! Do you see? Here I have the blessed balm”—and he showed him the cruet filled with the potion—“and if you drink only two drops, you surely will be healed.”

At these words Sancho looked at him askance and said in an even louder voice:

“Has your grace by chance forgotten that I’m not a knight, or do you want me to finish vomiting up whatever guts I have left from last night? You can keep your potion or send it to the devil; just leave me alone.”

And saying this and beginning to drink were all one, but at the first swallow he saw that it was water and did not wish to continue, and he asked Maritornes to bring him wine; she did so very willingly and paid for it with her own money, because it can truly be said of her that though she followed the trade that she did, she bore a remote resemblance to a Christian woman.

As soon as Sancho finished drinking, he dug his heels into his donkey, and the gate of the inn was opened wide for him, and he left, very pleased at not paying anything and having his way, though it had been at the expense of his usual guarantor, which was his back. The truth is that the innkeeper had kept his saddlebags as payment, but Sancho was so distracted when he left that he did not miss them. The innkeeper wanted to bar the gate as soon as he saw them outside, but the blanket tossers did not agree, for they were people who would not have cared an ardite4 even if Don Quixote really had been one of the knights errant of the Round Table.

CHAPTER XVIII

Which relates the words that passed between Sancho Panza and his master, Don Quixote, and other adventures that deserve to be recounted

When Sancho reached his master, he was so weak and enfeebled that he could not even prod his donkey. Seeing him in this state, Don Quixote said:

“Now I am convinced, my good Sancho, that this castle or inn is undoubtedly enchanted, because what else could those who so brutally took their amusement with you be but phantoms or beings from the next world? And I can attest to this because I saw, when I was at the wall of the corral watching the events in your sad tragedy, that it was not possible for me to climb over the wall or even to dismount Rocinante, and therefore they must have enchanted me, for I swear to you, by who I am, that if I could have climbed over or dismounted, I should have avenged