At the next inn they came upon Don Quixote, who was lying prone on Sancho’s ass, groaning in pain, vowed that here was a worthy castle.  Sancho swore ’twas an inn.  Their dispute lasted till they reached the door, where Sancho marched straight in, without troubling himself any further in the matter.  It was here that surprising adventures took place.  The knight, Sancho, and a carrier were obliged to share one chamber.  The maid of the inn, entering this apartment, was mistaken by Don Quixote for the princess of the castle, and taking her in his arms, he poured out a rhapsody to the virtues of Dulcinea del Toboso.  The carrier resented this, and in a moment the place was in an uproar.  Such a fight never took place before, and when it was over both the knight and the squire were as near dead as men can be.  To right himself, Don Quixote concocted a balsam of which he had read, and drinking it off, presently was so grievously ill that he was like to cast up his heart and liver.

Being got to bed again, he felt sure that he was now invulnerable, and he woke early next day, eager to sally forth.  When the host asked for his reckoning, “How!  Is this an inn?” quoth the Don.  “Yes, and one of the best on the road.”  “How strangely have I been mistaken then!  Upon my honour, I took it for a castle, and a considerable one, too.”  Saying which, he added that knights never yet paid for the honour they conferred in lying at any man’s house, and so rode away.  But poor Sancho Panza did not get off scot free, for they tossed him in a blanket in the backyard, where the Don could see the torture over the wall, but could by no means get to the rescue of his squire.

When they were together again, the gallant Don comforted poor Sancho Panza with hopes of an island, and explained away all their sufferings on the grounds of necromancy.  All that had gone awry with them was the work of some cursed enchanters.

Their next adventure was begun by a cloud of dust on the horizon, which instantly made Don Quixote exclaim that a great battle was in progress.  A nearer view revealed that the dust rose from a huge flock of sheep; but the knight’s blood was up, and he rode forward as fast as poor Rozinante could carry him, and did frightful slaughter among the sheep, till the stones of the shepherd brought him to the earth.  “Lord save us!” cried Sancho, as he assisted the Don to his feet.  “Your worship has left on his lower side only two grinders, and on the upper not one.”

Later, they came upon a company of priests, with lighted tapers, carrying a corpse through the night.  Don Quixote charged them, brought one of the company to the ground, and scattered the rest.  Sancho Panza, whose stomach cried cupboard, filled his wallet with the rich provisions of the priests, boasting to the wounded man that his master was the redoubtable Don Quixote of La Mancha, otherwise called the Knight of the Rueful Countenance.  When the adventure was over, Don Quixote questioned his squire on this name, and Sancho replied, “I have been staring upon you this pretty while by the light of that unlucky priest’s torch, and may I never stir if ever I set eyes on a more dismal countenance in my born days.”