All that day Don Quixote and Sancho remained in the village and inn waiting for night, the one to finish off his task of scourging in the open country, the other to see it accomplished, for therein lay the accomplishment of his wishes. Meanwhile there arrived at the hostelry a traveller on horseback with three or four servants, one of whom said to him who appeared to be the master, “Here, Senor Don Alvaro Tarfe, your worship may take your siesta to-day; the quarters seem clean and cool.”

When he heard this Don Quixote said to Sancho, “Look here, Sancho; on turning over the leaves of that book of the Second Part of my history I think I came casually upon this name of Don Alvaro Tarfe.”

“Very likely,” said Sancho; “we had better let him dismount, and by-and-by we can ask about it.”

The gentleman dismounted, and the landlady gave him a room on the ground floor opposite Don Quixote’s and adorned with painted serge hangings of the same sort. The newly arrived gentleman put on a summer coat, and coming out to the gateway of the hostelry, which was wide and cool, addressing Don Quixote, who was pacing up and down there, he asked, “In what direction your worship bound, gentle sir?”

“To a village near this which is my own village,” replied Don Quixote; “and your worship, where are you bound for?”

“I am going to Granada, senor,” said the gentleman, “to my own country.”

“And a goodly country,” said Don Quixote; “but will your worship do me the favour of telling me your name, for it strikes me it is of more importance to me to know it than I can tell you.”

“My name is Don Alvaro Tarfe,” replied the traveller.

To which Don Quixote returned, “I have no doubt whatever that your worship is that Don Alvaro Tarfe who appears in print in the Second Part of the history of Don Quixote of La Mancha, lately printed and published by a new author.”

“I am the same,” replied the gentleman; “and that same Don Quixote, the principal personage in the said history, was a very great friend of mine, and it was I who took him away from home, or at least induced him to come to some jousts that were to be held at Saragossa, whither I was going myself; indeed, I showed him many kindnesses, and saved him from having his shoulders touched up by the executioner because of his extreme rashness.”

Tell me, Senor Don Alvaro,” said Don Quixote, “am I at all like that Don Quixote you talk of?”

“No indeed,” replied the traveller, “not a bit.”

“And that Don Quixote — ” said our one, “had he with him a squire called Sancho Panza?”

“He had,” said Don Alvaro; “but though he had the name of being very droll, I never heard him say anything that had any drollery in it.”

“That I can well believe,” said Sancho at this, “for to come out with drolleries is not in everybody’s line; and that Sancho your worship speaks of, gentle sir, must be some great scoundrel, dunderhead, and thief, all in one; for I am the real Sancho Panza, and I have more drolleries than if it rained them; let your worship only try; come along with me for a year or so, and you will find they fall from me at every turn, and so rich and so plentiful that though mostly I don’t know what I am saying I make everybody that hears me laugh. And the real Don Quixote of La Mancha, the famous, the valiant, the wise, the lover, the righter of wrongs, the guardian of minors and orphans, the protector of widows, the killer of damsels, he who has for his sole mistress the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, is this gentleman before you, my master; all other Don Quixotes and all other Sancho Panzas are dreams and mockeries.”

“By God I believe it,” said Don Alvaro; “for you have uttered more drolleries, my friend, in the few words you have spoken than the other Sancho Panza in all I ever heard from him, and they were not a few. He was more greedy than well-spoken, and more dull than droll; and I am convinced that the enchanters who persecute Don Quixote the Good have been trying to persecute me with Don Quixote the Bad. But I don’t know what to say, for I am ready to swear I left him shut up in the Casa del Nuncio at Toledo, and here another Don Quixote turns up, though a very different one from mine.”

“I don’t know whether I am good,” said Don Quixote, “but I can safely say I am not ‘the Bad;’ and to prove it, let me tell you, Senor Don Alvaro Tarfe, I have never in my life been in Saragossa; so far from that, when it was told me that this imaginary Don Quixote had been present at the jousts in that city, I declined to enter it, in order to drag his falsehood before the face of the world; and so I went on straight to Barcelona, the treasure-house of courtesy, haven of strangers, asylum of the poor, home of the valiant, champion of the wronged, pleasant exchange of firm friendships, and city unrivalled in site and beauty. And though the adventures that befell me there are not by any means matters of enjoyment, but rather of regret, I do not regret them, simply because I have s............