rongs they ever did or may
do me, without the least exception."

At the next inn they came upon Don Quixote, who was lying prone on
Sancho's ass, groaning in pain, vowed that here was a worthy castle.
Sancho swore 'twas an inn. Their dispute lasted till they reached the
door, where Sancho marched straight in, without troubling himself any
further in the matter. It was here that surprising adventures took
place. The knight, Sancho, and a carrier were obliged to share one
chamber. The maid of the inn, entering this apartment, was mistaken by
Don Quixote for the princess of the castle, and taking her in his arms,
he poured out a rhapsody to the virtues of Dulcinea del Toboso. The
carrier resented this, and in a moment the place was in an uproar. Such
a fight never took place before, and when it was over both the knight
and the squire were as near dead as men can be. To right himself, Don
Quixote concocted a balsam of which he had read, and drinking it off,
presently was so grievously ill that he was like to cast up his heart and
liver.

Being got to bed again, he felt sure that he was now invulnerable, and
he woke early next day, eager to sally forth. When the host asked for
his reckoning, "How! Is this an inn?" quoth the Don. "Yes, and one of
the best on the road." "How strangely have I been mistaken then! Upon my
honour, I took it for a castle, and a considerable one, too." Saying
which, he added that knights never yet paid for the honour they
conferred in lying at any man's house, and so rode away. But poor Sancho
Panza did not get off scot free, for they tossed him in a blanket in the
backyard, where the Don could see the torture over the wall, but could
by no means get to the rescue of his squire.

When they were together again, the gallant Don comforted poor Sancho
Panza with hopes of an island, and explained away all their sufferings
on the grounds of necromancy. All that had gone awry with them was the
work of some cursed enchanters.

Their next adventure was begun by a cloud of dust on the horizon, which
instantly made Don Quixote exclaim that a great battle was in progress.
A nearer view revealed that the dust rose from a huge flock of sheep;
but the knight's blood was up, and he rode forward as fast as poor
Rozinante could carry him, and did frightful slaughter among the sheep,
till the stones of the shepherd brought him to the earth. "Lord save
us!" cried Sancho, as he assisted the Don to his feet. "Your wo