And then Sancho Panza, mounted on his
donkey, led Rocinante by the reins. As the procession started, the
landlady came out to weep make-believe tears for Don Quixote, who
begged her to shed none, for in the end, he said, virtue would
triumph.

At the head of the procession came the ox-cart, the officers of the
Brotherhood marching beside it, then followed Sancho Panza on his ass,
leading Rocinante by the bridle, and in the rear trailed the curate
and the barber on their mules. The slow pace of the oxen had to be
imitated by the rest, so the whole procession took on a solemn and
mysterious aspect, which was enhanced by the encaged Don Quixote's
stiff and stone-like form leaning against the wooden bars.

They had traveled several leagues, when the curate heard the sound of
riders approaching from behind. Turning in his saddle he perceived six
or seven men, mounted on mules, and riding at a quick pace. They had
soon overtaken the procession, and exchanged greetings with the curate
and the barber. One of the travelers was a canon of Toledo, and on
observing the fettered Don Quixote, with the armed officers of the
Brotherhood as an escort, he took it for granted that the knight was
some dangerous highwayman. Yet, scrutinizing the strange parade, he
could not help asking questions. So when he inquired of one of the
officers why Don Quixote was being transported in that way, the
officer did not know what to say but referred him for an explanation
to Don Quixote himself.

The knight errant had heard the canon's question, and he offered to
give him the information if he knew anything about errantry. As the
canon said he had read a good deal about knights errant and their
deeds, Don Quixote was quick to tell of his misfortune--how he had
been encaged and made helpless by enchantment. At this moment the
curate, seeing that the canon was talking to Don Quixote, and fearing
a mishap in the carrying out of their plan, came up and joined in the
conversation. He corroborated what the knight errant had just said,
and added that it was not for his sins that he was enchanted, but
because of his enemies' hatred of virtuous deeds, of which this famous
Knight of the Rueful Countenance was the strongest champion in their
age.

When the good canon heard the two of them talk like that, he was at a
loss for words and felt he had to cross himself, in which action his
attendants joined him. But as luck would have it, Sancho Panza had
been l