**Of what happened Don Quixote on entering Barcelona, together with othe_atters that partake of the true rather than of the ingenious**
Don Quixote passed three days and three nights with Roque, and had he passe_hree hundred years he would have found enough to observe and wonder at in hi_ode of life. At daybreak they were in one spot, at dinner-time in another;
sometimes they fled without knowing from whom, at other times they lay i_ait, not knowing for what. They slept standing, breaking their slumbers t_hift from place to place. There was nothing but sending out spies and scouts,
posting sentinels and blowing the matches of harquebusses, though they carrie_ut few, for almost all used flintlocks. Roque passed his nights in some plac_r other apart from his men, that they might not know where he was, for th_any proclamations the viceroy of Barcelona had issued against his life kep_im in fear and uneasiness, and he did not venture to trust anyone, afrai_hat even his own men would kill him or deliver him up to the authorities; o_ truth, a weary miserable life! At length, by unfrequented roads, short cuts,
and secret paths, Roque, Don Quixote, and Sancho, together with six squires,
set out for Barcelona. They reached the strand on Saint John's Eve during th_ight; and Roque, after embracing Don Quixote and Sancho (to whom he presente_he ten crowns he had promised but had not until then given), left them wit_any expressions of good-will on both sides.
Roque went back, while Don Quixote remained on horseback, just as he was,
waiting for day, and it was not long before the countenance of the fair Auror_egan to show itself at the balconies of the east, gladdening the grass an_lowers, if not the ear, though to gladden that too there came at the sam_oment a sound of clarions and drums, and a din of bells, and a tramp, tramp,
and cries of "Clear the way there!" of some runners, that seemed to issue fro_he city.
The dawn made way for the sun that with a face broader than a buckler began t_ise slowly above the low line of the horizon; Don Quixote and Sancho gaze_ll round them; they beheld the sea, a sight until then unseen by them; i_truck them as exceedingly spacious and broad, much more so than the lakes o_uidera which they had seen in La Mancha. They saw the galleys along th_each, which, lowering their awnings, displayed themselves decked wit_treamers and pennons that trembled in the breeze and kissed and swept th_ater, while on board the bugles, trumpets, and clarions were sounding an_illing the air far and near with melodious warlike notes. Then they began t_ove and execute a kind of skirmish upon the calm water, while a vast numbe_f horsemen on fine horses and in showy liveries, issuing from the city,
engaged on their side in a somewhat similar movement. The soldiers on boar_he galleys kept up a ceaseless fire, which they on the walls and forts of th_ity returned, and the heavy cannon rent the air with the tremendous nois_hey made, to which the gangway guns of the galleys replied. The bright sea,
the smiling earth, the clear air—though at times darkened by the smoke of th_uns—all seemed to fill the whole multitude with unexpected delight. Sanch_ould not make out how it was that those great masses that moved over the se_ad so many feet.
And now the horsemen in livery came galloping up with shouts and outlandis_ries and cheers to where Don Quixote stood amazed and wondering; and one o_hem, he to whom Roque had sent word, addressing him exclaimed, "Welcome t_ur city, mirror, beacon, star and cynosure of all knight-errantry in it_idest extent! Welcome, I say, valiant Don Quixote of La Mancha; not th_alse, the fictitious, the apocryphal, that these latter days have offered u_n lying histories, but the true, the legitimate, the real one that Cid_amete Benengeli, flower of historians, has described to us!"
Don Quixote made no answer, nor did the horsemen wait for one, but wheelin_gain with all their followers, they began curvetting round Don Quixote, who,
turning to Sancho, said, "These gentlemen have plainly recognised us; I wil_ager they have read our history, and even that newly printed one by th_ragonese."
The cavalier who had addressed Don Quixote again approached him and said,
"Come with us, Senor Don Quixote, for we are all of us your servants and grea_riends of Roque Guinart's;" to which Don Quixote returned, "If courtes_reeds courtesy, yours, sir knight, is daughter or very nearly akin to th_reat Roque's; carry me where you please; I will have no will but yours,
especially if you deign to employ it in your service."
The cavalier replied with words no less polite, and then, all closing i_round him, they set out with him for the city, to the music of the clarion_nd the drums. As they were entering it, the wicked one, who is the author o_ll mischief, and the boys who are wickeder than the wicked one, contrive_hat a couple of these audacious irrepressible urchins should force their wa_hrough the crowd, and lifting up, one of them Dapple's tail and the othe_ocinante's, insert a bunch of furze under each. The poor beasts felt th_trange spurs and added to their anguish by pressing their tails tight, s_uch so that, cutting a multitude of capers, they flung their masters to th_round. Don Quixote, covered with shame and out of countenance, ran to pluc_he plume from his poor jade's tail, while Sancho did the same for Dapple. Hi_onductors tried to punish the audacity of the boys, but there was n_ossibility of doing so, for they hid themselves among the hundreds of other_hat were following them. Don Quixote and Sancho mounted once more, and wit_he same music and acclamations reached their conductor's house, which wa_arge and stately, that of a rich gentleman, in short; and there for th_resent we will leave them, for such is Cide Hamete's pleasure.