Thus warned and menaced, the castellan forthwith brought
out a book in which he used to enter the straw and
barley he served out to the carriers, and, with a
lad carrying a candle-end, and the two damsels already
mentioned, he returned to where Don Quixote stood,
and bade him kneel down. Then, reading from his
account-book as if he were repeating some devout prayer,
in the middle of his delivery he raised his hand and
gave him a sturdy blow on the neck, and then, with
his own sword, a smart slap on the shoulder, all the
while muttering between his teeth as if he was saying
his prayers. Having done this, he directed one
of the ladies to gird on his sword, which she did
with great self-possession and gravity, and not a
little was required to prevent a burst of laughter
at each stage of the ceremony; but what they had already
seen of the novice knight’s prowess kept their
laughter within bounds. On girding him with the
sword the worthy lady said to him, “May God make
your worship a very fortunate knight, and grant you
success in battle.” Don Quixote asked her
name in order that he might from that time forward
know to whom he was beholden for the favour he had
received, as he meant to confer upon her some portion
of the honour he acquired by the might of his arm.
She answered with great humility that she was called
La Tolosa, and that she was the daughter of a cobbler
of Toledo who lived in the stalls of Sanchobienaya,
and that wherever she might be she would serve and
esteem him as her lord. Don Quixote said in reply
that she would do him a favour if thenceforward she
assumed the “Don” and called herself Dona
Tolosa. She promised she would, and then the
other buckled on his spur, and with her followed almost
the same conversation as with the lady of the sword.
He asked her name, and she said it was La Molinera,
and that she was the daughter of a respectable miller
of Antequera; and of her likewise Don Quixote requested
that she would adopt the “Don” and call
herself Dona Molinera, making offers to her further
services and favours.
Having thus, with hot haste and speed, brought to
a conclusion these never-till-now-seen ceremonies,
Don Quixote was on thorns until he saw himself on
horseback sallying forth in quest of adventures; and
saddling Rocinante at once he mounted, and embracing
his host, as he returned thanks for his kindness in
knighting him, he addressed him in language so extraordinary
that it is impossible to convey an idea of it or report
it. The landlord, to get him out of the inn,
replied with no less rhetoric though with shorter
words, and without calling upon him to pay the reckoning
let him go with a Godspeed.
CHAPTER IV.
OF WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR KNIGHT WHEN HE LEFT THE INN
