The niece said the same, and, more: "You must know, Master Nicholas"--for
that was the name of the barber--"it was often my uncle's way to stay two
days and nights together poring over these unholy books of misventures,
after which he would fling the book away and snatch up his sword and fall
to slashing the walls; and when he was tired out he would say he had
killed four giants like four towers; and the sweat that flowed from him
when he was weary he said was the blood of the wounds he had received in
battle; and then he would drink a great jug of cold water and become calm
and quiet, saying that this water was a most precious potion which the
sage Esquife, a great magician and friend of his, had brought him. But I
take all the blame upon myself for never having told your worships of my
uncle's vagaries, that you might put a stop to them before things had
come to this pass, and burn all these accursed books--for he has a great
number--that richly deserve to be burned like heretics."
"So say I too," said the curate, "and by my faith to-morrow shall not
pass without public judgment upon them, and may they be condemned to the
flames lest they lead those that read to behave as my good friend seems
to have behaved."
All this the peasant heard, and from it he understood at last what was
the matter with his neighbour, so he began calling aloud, "Open, your
worships, to Senor Baldwin and to Senor the Marquis of Mantua, who comes
badly wounded, and to Senor Abindarraez, the Moor, whom the valiant
Rodrigo de Narvaez, the Alcaide of Antequera, brings captive."
At these words they all hurried out, and when they recognised their
friend, master, and uncle, who had not yet dismounted from the ass
because he could not, they ran to embrace him.
"Hold!" said he, "for I am badly wounded through my horse's fault; carry
me to bed, and if possible send for the wise Urganda to cure and see to
my wounds."
"See there! plague on it!" cried the housekeeper at this: "did not my
heart tell the truth as to which foot my master went lame of? To bed with
your worship at once, and we will contrive to cure you here without
fetching that Hurgada. A curse I say once more, and a hundred times more,
on those books of chivalry that have brought your worship to such a
pass."
They carried him to bed at once, and after searching for his wounds could
find none, but he said they were all bruises from having had a severe
fall with his horse Rocinante when in combat with ten giants, the biggest
and the boldest to be found on earth.