**Of how Don Quixote and Sancho reached their village**
All that day Don Quixote and Sancho remained in the village and inn waitin_or 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 hi_ishes. Meanwhile there arrived at the hostelry a traveller on horseback wit_hree 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; th_uarters seem clean and cool."
When he heard this Don Quixote said to Sancho, "Look here, Sancho; on turnin_ver the leaves of that book of the Second Part of my history I think I cam_asually upon this name of Don Alvaro Tarfe."
"Very likely," said Sancho; "we had better let him dismount, and by-and-by w_an ask about it."
The gentleman dismounted, and the landlady gave him a room on the ground floo_pposite Don Quixote's and adorned with painted serge hangings of the sam_ort. The newly arrived gentleman put on a summer coat, and coming out to th_ateway of the hostelry, which was wide and cool, addressing Don Quixote, wh_as pacing up and down there, he asked, "In what direction your worship bound,
"To a village near this which is my own village," replied Don Quixote; "an_our 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 th_avour of telling me your name, for it strikes me it is of more importance t_e 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 i_hat Don Alvaro Tarfe who appears in print in the Second Part of the histor_f 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, th_rincipal personage in the said history, was a very great friend of mine, an_t was I who took him away from home, or at least induced him to come to som_ousts 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 touche_p by the executioner because of his extreme rashness."
"Tell me, Senor Don Alvaro," said Don Quixote, "am I at all like that Do_uixote 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 Sanch_anza?"
"He had," said Don Alvaro; "but though he had the name of being very droll, _ever heard him say anything that had any drollery in it."
"That I can well believe," said Sancho at this, "for to come out wit_rolleries 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 raine_hem; let your worship only try; come along with me for a year or so, and yo_ill find they fall from me at every turn, and so rich and so plentiful tha_hough mostly I don't know what I am saying I make everybody that hears m_augh. And the real Don Quixote of La Mancha, the famous, the valiant, th_ise, 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 sol_istress the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, is this gentleman before you, m_aster; all other Don Quixotes and all other Sancho Panzas are dreams an_ockeries."
"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 al_ 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 wh_ersecute Don Quixote the Good have been trying to persecute me with Do_uixote the Bad. But I don't know what to say, for I am ready to swear I lef_im shut up in the Casa del Nuncio at Toledo, and here another Don Quixot_urns 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 a_ot 'the Bad;' and to prove it, let me tell you, Senor Don Alvaro Tarfe, _ave never in my life been in Saragossa; so far from that, when it was told m_hat this imaginary Don Quixote had been present at the jousts in that city, _eclined to enter it, in order to drag his falsehood before the face of th_orld; 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 th_ronged, pleasant exchange of firm friendships, and city unrivalled in sit_nd beauty. And though the adventures that befell me there are not by an_eans matters of enjoyment, but rather of regret, I do not regret them, simpl_ecause I have seen it. In a word, Senor Don Alvaro Tarfe, I am Don Quixote o_a Mancha, the one that fame speaks of, and not the unlucky one that ha_ttempted to usurp my name and deck himself out in my ideas. I entreat you_orship by your devoir as a gentleman to be so good as to make a declaratio_efore the alcalde of this village that you never in all your life saw m_ntil now, and that neither am I the Don Quixote in print in the Second Part,
nor this Sancho Panza, my squire, the one your worship knew."
"That I will do most willingly," replied Don Alvaro; "though it amazes me t_ind two Don Quixotes and two Sancho Panzas at once, as much alike in name a_hey differ in demeanour; and again I say and declare that what I saw I canno_ave seen, and that what happened me cannot have happened."
"No doubt your worship is enchanted, like my lady Dulcinea del Toboso," sai_ancho; "and would to heaven your disenchantment rested on my giving mysel_nother three thousand and odd lashes like what I'm giving myself for her, fo_'d lay them on without looking for anything."
"I don't understand that about the lashes," said Don Alvaro. Sancho replie_hat it was a long story to tell, but he would tell him if they happened to b_oing the same road.
By this dinner-time arrived, and Don Quixote and Don Alvaro dined together.
The alcalde of the village came by chance into the inn together with a notary,
and Don Quixote laid a petition before him, showing that it was requisite fo_is rights that Don Alvaro Tarfe, the gentleman there present, should make _eclaration before him that he did not know Don Quixote of La Mancha, als_here present, and that he was not the one that was in print in a histor_ntitled "Second Part of Don Quixote of La Mancha, by one Avellaneda o_ordesillas." The alcalde finally put it in legal form, and the declaratio_as made with all the formalities required in such cases, at which Don Quixot_nd Sancho were in high delight, as if a declaration of the sort was of an_reat importance to them, and as if their words and deeds did not plainly sho_he difference between the two Don Quixotes and the two Sanchos. Man_ivilities and offers of service were exchanged by Don Alvaro and Don Quixote,
in the course of which the great Manchegan displayed such good taste that h_isabused Don Alvaro of the error he was under; and he, on his part, fel_onvinced he must have been enchanted, now that he had been brought in contac_ith two such opposite Don Quixotes.
Evening came, they set out from the village, and after about half a league tw_oads branched off, one leading to Don Quixote's village, the other the roa_on Alvaro was to follow. In this short interval Don Quixote told him of hi_nfortunate defeat, and of Dulcinea's enchantment and the remedy, all whic_hrew Don Alvaro into fresh amazement, and embracing Don Quixote and Sancho h_ent his way, and Don Quixote went his. That night he passed among trees agai_n order to give Sancho an opportunity of working out his penance, which h_id in the same fashion as the night before, at the expense of the bark of th_eech trees much more than of his back, of which he took such good care tha_he lashes would not have knocked off a fly had there been one there. Th_uped Don Quixote did not miss a single stroke of the count, and he found tha_ogether with those of the night before they made up three thousand an_wenty-nine. The sun apparently had got up early to witness the sacrifice, an_ith his light they resumed their journey, discussing the deception practise_n Don Alvaro, and saying how well done it was to have taken his declaratio_efore a magistrate in such an unimpeachable form. That day and night the_ravelled on, nor did anything worth mention happen them, unless it was tha_n the course of the night Sancho finished off his task, whereat Don Quixot_as beyond measure joyful. He watched for daylight, to see if along the roa_e should fall in with his already disenchanted lady Dulcinea; and as h_ursued his journey there was no woman he met that he did not go up to, to se_f she was Dulcinea del Toboso, as he held it absolutely certain that Merlin'_romises could not lie. Full of these thoughts and anxieties, they ascended _ising ground wherefrom they descried their own village, at the sight of whic_ancho fell on his knees exclaiming, "Open thine eyes, longed-for home, an_ee how thy son Sancho Panza comes back to thee, if not very rich, very wel_hipped! Open thine arms and receive, too, thy son Don Quixote, who, if h_omes vanquished by the arm of another, comes victor over himself, which, a_e himself has told me, is the greatest victory anyone can desire. I'_ringing back money, for if I was well whipped, I went mounted like _entleman."
"Have done with these fooleries," said Don Quixote; "let us push on straigh_nd get to our own place, where we will give free range to our fancies, an_ettle our plans for our future pastoral life."
With this they descended the slope and directed their steps to their village.