demonstration of physical strength made such a
profound impression on Don Quixote, that he decided his squire was not
far from being eligible to knighthood.

As soon as the barber was able to make himself heard again, he began
to arraign both master and squire. He was not to be subdued. He told
all that quickly gathered round them that they could assure themselves
of the truth of what he said by fitting Sancho's saddle to his own
steed; furthermore, he said, they had plundered him of a basin.

When Don Quixote heard this ridiculous accusation, his lips twisted
into a scornful smile. He dispatched Sancho to fetch the helmet--which
seemed to Sancho a dangerous move--and when Sancho returned with the
basin, Don Quixote held it up with great self-assurance before
everybody.

"Your worships," said he, "may see with what face this squire can
assert that this is a basin and not the helmet I told you of; and I
swear by the order of chivalry I profess, that this helmet is the
identical one I took from him, without anything added to or removed."

This statement was corroborated in detail by Sancho, who added: "Since
that battle my master has fought in the helmet only once. That was
when he let loose the unfortunate ones in chains. And if it had not
been for this basin-helmet he might have been killed in that
engagement, for there were plenty of stones raining down on him at
that time."

CHAPTER XLV

IN WHICH THE DOUBTFUL QUESTION OF MAMBRINO'S HELMET AND THE
PACK-SADDLE IS FINALLY SETTLED, WITH OTHER ADVENTURES THAT
OCCURRED IN TRUTH AND EARNEST

The barber appealed to those present and asked them what they thought
about Don Quixote's nonsense; and it was then that it occurred to Don
Quixote's friend, the barber of his village to play a joke on his
fellow barber. He solemnly asked the other barber whether he was out
of his head, for of course anybody could see that it was a helmet,
although, he admitted, not a complete one.

The poor barber was so taken aback, so perplexed that a learned
barber, and a seemingly sane one otherwise, could not tell the
difference between a basin and a helmet that he nearly toppled over.
But when the worthy curate, Cardenio, Don Fernando, and all--for they
realized at once the barber's joke--insisted that he was wrong, and
that it was not a basin, the perspiration began to trickle down his
face, and he exclaimed: "God bless me! Is it possible that such an
honorable company can say