and laying hold of his beard, as he was groping about, he cried out incessantly:
'I charge you to aid and assist me.'
But, finding that the person he had laid hold of neither stirred nor moved, he concluded that he must be dead, and that the people within the room were his murderers: and with this suspicion he raised his voice still louder, crying:
'Shut the inn door, see that nobody gets out; for they have killed a man here.'
This voice astonished them all, and each of them left the conflict the very moment the voice reached them. The landlord withdrew to his chamber, the carrier to his pannels, and the wench to her straw: only the unfortunate Don Quixote and Sancho could not stir from the place they were in. Now the officer let go Don Quixote's beard, and went out to get a light, to search after and apprehend the delinquents: but he found none; for the innkeeper had purposely extinguished the lamp, when he retired to his chamber; and the officer was forced to have recourse to the chimney, where, after much pains and time, he lighted another lamp.
Wherein are continued the numberless hardships which the brave Don Quixote and his good squire Sancho Panza underwent in the inn, which he unhappily took for a castle.
By this time Don Quixote was come to himself, and with the very same tone of voice with which, the day before, he had called to his squire, when he lay stretched along 'in the Valley of Pack-staves',* he began to call to him, saying:
'Sancho, friend, sleepest thou? sleepest thou, friend Sancho?'
'How should I sleep? woe is me?' answered Sancho, full of trouble and vexation; 'I cannot but think all the devils in hell have been in my company to-night.'
'You may very well believe so,' answered Don Quixote; 'and either I know little, or this castle is enchanted. For you must know -- but what I am now going to tell you, you must swear to keep secret until after my death.'