on the giant.

'Fair and gracious lady,' he said, falling on his knees, 'may your life
henceforth be freed from the terror of this ill-born creature!'

'Well, did I not speak truly?' asked Sancho Panza proudly. 'Has not my
master properly salted the giant? I have got my earldom safe at last.'
For Sancho never ceased to believe in the knight's promises.

Everyone was driven to laugh at the strange foolery of both master and
man, except the innkeeper, whose mind was still sore at the loss of his
wine-skins. The priest and the barber first busied themselves in getting
Don Quixote, now quite worn out with his adventure, safely into bed, and
then went to administer the best consolation they could to the poor man.

Many days passed before Don Quixote was well enough to leave the inn,
but at length he seemed to be cured of the fatigue he had undergone
during his previous adventures, and had bidden his squire get all things
ready for his departure. Maritornes, the servant at the inn, and the
innkeeper's daughter, having overheard the plans of Don Quixote,
resolved that he should not leave them before they had played him some
merry tricks.

That night, when everyone else had gone to bed, and Don Quixote, armed,
and mounted on Rozinante, was keeping guard in front of the inn, the two
girls crept up to a loft. Nowhere in the inn was there such a thing as a
proper window, but in the loft was a hole through which the knight could
be seen, leaning on his lance uttering deep sighs and broken words about
the Lady Dulcinea.

The innkeeper's daughter, falling in with his humour, advanced to the
hole, and invited him to draw a little nearer. Nothing more was needed
than for Don Quixote to imagine that the damsel was sick of love for
him, and he told her straightway that any service he could do her short
of proclaiming her his liege lady she might command. Upon this,
Maritornes informed him that her mistress would be content were she
permitted to kiss his hand, which Don Quixote answered might be done
without wrong to the Lady Dulcinea. So, without more ado, he passed it
through the hole, when it was instantly seized by Maritornes, who
slipped a noose of rope over his wrist, and tied the other end of it
tightly to the door of the loft.

After that they both ran off, overflowing with laughter, leaving the
knight to reproach them for their ill-usage.

There the poor knight remained, mounted on Rozinante, his arm in the
hole and his