None other
than the galley-slave Gines de Pasamonte, or Don Ginesillo de
Paropilla, as Don Quixote would have it. It was in the guise of a
showman, with only one eye and a part of his face visible, that he
found it an easy matter to evade being caught by the servants of the
law, who had been hunting for him ever since he was liberated through
the generosity and bravery of Don Quixote. The ape he had bought from
some captives who had returned from Barbary; and he had soon taught
him the tricks which made people think he was really divining things.
Before entering a village the clever galley-slave would learn all he
could about its inhabitants; and being blessed with a remarkable
memory, he seldom had any difficulty in making the ape's feat seem
impressive to the masses.

Now, when Don Quixote left the inn, it suddenly occurred to him that
he ought to visit the banks of the Ebro before steering towards
Saragossa. So he kept on the road for two days, and on the third day
as he was mounting a hill he was suddenly aroused by hearing a
tremendous din of drums, mixed with the sound of trumpets and
musket-shots. In as few instants as it took to make his charger ascend
to the top of the hill, he was there; and he saw several hundred men,
armed with weapons of every imaginable sort. There were flags, of
various descriptions, and among them one in particular attracted his
attention: it was a large standard in white, on which was painted a
donkey, and also an inscription, reading thus:

They did not bray in vain,
Our alcaldes twain.

This made Don Quixote believe the warriors must be from the braying
town, and he remarked to Sancho that the man to whom they had talked
at the inn must have been misinformed, for evidently the two had not
been magistrates but alcaldes, according to the sign. To this Sancho
replied that having once been a magistrate should not exclude any one
from becoming an alcalde; besides, somebody must have brayed, and
whether it was an alcalde or a magistrate mattered little, he thought.
Don Quixote, however, was in a quandary as to what to do that he might
best live up to the laws of knight-errantry.

He finally went to the braying ones, and, having begged their leave to
address them, he began a stirring discourse on war and peace that
lasted a considerable time. He flayed those who would go into battle
for trifling matters; but just when he seemed to be about to win the