Nor was Don Quixote less so, for what with blows and bruises he could not
sit upright on the ass, and from time to time he sent up sighs to heaven,
so that once more he drove the peasant to ask what ailed him. And it
could have been only the devil himself that put into his head tales to
match his own adventures, for now, forgetting Baldwin, he bethought
himself of the Moor Abindarraez, when the Alcaide of Antequera, Rodrigo
de Narvaez, took him prisoner and carried him away to his castle; so that
when the peasant again asked him how he was and what ailed him, he gave
him for reply the same words and phrases that the captive Abindarraez
gave to Rodrigo de Narvaez, just as he had read the story in the "Diana"
of Jorge de Montemayor where it is written, applying it to his own case
so aptly that the peasant went along cursing his fate that he had to
listen to such a lot of nonsense; from which, however, he came to the
conclusion that his neighbour was mad, and so made all haste to reach the
village to escape the wearisomeness of this harangue of Don Quixote's;
who, at the end of it, said, "Senor Don Rodrigo de Narvaez, your worship
must know that this fair Xarifa I have mentioned is now the lovely
Dulcinea del Toboso, for whom I have done, am doing, and will do the most
famous deeds of chivalry that in this world have been seen, are to be
seen, or ever shall be seen."
To this the peasant answered, "Senor--sinner that I am!--cannot your
worship see that I am not Don Rodrigo de Narvaez nor the Marquis of
Mantua, but Pedro Alonso your neighbour, and that your worship is neither
Baldwin nor Abindarraez, but the worthy gentleman Senor Quixada?"
"I know who I am," replied Don Quixote, "and I know that I may be not
only those I have named, but all the Twelve Peers of France and even all
the Nine Worthies, since my achievements surpass all that they have done
all together and each of them on his own account."
With this talk and more of the same kind they reached the village just as
night was beginning to fall, but the peasant waited until it was a little
later that the belaboured gentleman might not be seen riding in such a
miserable trim. When it was what seemed to him the proper time he entered
the village and went to Don Quixote's house, which he found all in
confusion, and there were the curate and the village barber, who were
great friends of Don Quixote, and his housekeeper was saying to them in a
loud voice, "What does your worship think can have befallen my master,
Senor Licentiate Pero Perez?" for so the curate was called; "it is three
days now since anything has been seen of him, or the hack, or the
buckler, lance, or armour. Miserable me! I am certain of it, and it is as
true as that I was born to die, that these accursed books of chivalry he
has, and has got into the way of reading so constantly, have upset his
reason; for now I remember having often heard him saying to himself that
he would turn knight-errant and go all over the world in quest of
adventures. To the devil and Barabbas with such books, that have brought
to ruin in this way the finest understanding there was in all La Mancha!"