s he had
no doubt. So he began to feign severe suffering, rolling to and fro on
the ground, and repeating words that he had read in his books and
ascribed to Baldwin as he lay wounded; until he finally was discovered
by a peasant from his own village, a neighbor of his, whom he took for
Baldwin's uncle, the Marquis of Mantua. This good neighbor of Don
Quixote's was much concerned over his ravings. He removed the knight's
breastplate, back piece and visor, expecting to see him badly wounded;
but he found no trace of blood or marks upon him. Then he succeeded in
hoisting poor Don Quixote up on his donkey, which seemed the easiest
mount for him, while he tied the pieces of his arms on Rocinante. And
thus they proceeded toward the village. Because of his blows and
bruises, Don Quixote had a hard task sitting upright on the ass, and
he emphasized the romance of his situation by constantly heaving sighs
to heaven. But every time the peasant was driven by these sighs to ask
him his trouble, he replied in the language of a different hero from a
different book.

It was nightfall when they arrived at Don Quixote's house in the
village. His housekeeper, the curate, and the village barber were all
in confusion, for it was now six days since the old gentleman had
disappeared from La Mancha with his hack and armor. They had just come
to the conclusion that his books were to blame for his dilapidated
mentality, and agreed that they ought to be condemned to be publicly
burned, when the peasant suddenly arrived with Don Quixote himself.
They all ran out to greet and embrace him while he was still on the
donkey--he had not dismounted because he could not. He insisted that
he was severely wounded--through no fault of his own, however, but
that of his horse--and asked that they put him to bed and send for the
wise Urganda to cure him.

The good people carried him to bed, but still they could find no
wounds, although he insisted that he had been wounded in combat with
ten giants, the greatest and most bloodthirsty in the world. Then he
asked for something to eat; and then fell asleep.

CHAPTER VI

OF THE DIVERTING AND IMPORTANT SCRUTINY WHICH THE CURATE AND
THE BARBER MADE IN THE LIBRARY OF OUR INGENIOUS GENTLEMAN

Early the next morning the curate and his friend Master Nicholas, the
barber, went to Don Quixote's house to settle their grievance with the
cause of all the mischief--the books of their demented friend. The
curate