bled
people, as well as shaved them or cut their hair.

And the truth of the matter was this, that the man whom Don Quixote
now believed to be a knight, wearing a golden helmet, was a barber
riding on his ass to bleed a sick man. And because it was raining, he
had put his brass dish on his head, in order to keep his new hat from
being spoiled.

Don Quixote did not wait to speak to the man, but, couching his lance,
galloped at him as hard as "Rozinante" could go, shouting as he rode,
"Defend thyself, base wretch!"

The barber no sooner saw this terrible figure charging down on him,
than, to save himself from being run through, he flung himself on to
the ground, and then jumping to his feet, ran for his life, leaving
his ass and the brass basin behind him. Then Don Quixote ordered
Sancho to pick up the helmet.

"O' my word," said Sancho, as he gave it to his master, "it is a fine
basin."

Don Quixote at once put it on his head, saying, "It is a famous
helmet, but the head for which it was made must have been of great
size. The worst of it is that at least one-half of it is gone. What is
the fool grinning at now?" he cried, as Sancho laughed.

"Why, master," answered Sancho, "it is a barber's basin."

"It has indeed some likeness to a basin," said Don Quixote, "but I
tell you it is an enchanted helmet of pure gold, and for the sake of a
little wretched money some one has melted down the half of it. When we
come to a town where there is an armorer, I will have it altered to
fit my head. Meantime I shall wear it as it is."

As they rode along one day talking of many things, Don Quixote beheld
a cloud of dust rising right before them.

"Seest thou that cloud of dust, Sancho?" he asked. "It is raised by a
great army marching this way."

"Why, master," said Sancho, "there must be two armies there, for
yonder is just such another cloud of dust."

The knight looked, and was overjoyed, believing that two armies were
about to meet and fight in the plain.

"What are we to do, master?" asked Sancho.

"Do!" said Don Quixote, "why, what can we do but help the weaker side?
Look yonder, Sancho, that knight whom thou seest in the gilded armory
with a lion crouching at the feet of a lady painted on his shield,
that is the valiant Laurcalco. That other, the giant on his right,
Brandabarbaran." And he ran over a long list of names of knights whom
he believed that he saw.

Sancho listened, as dumb as a fish; but at last he