r, and advised them from time to time what to do; and at last
the women began to think that there was hope for our knight's being
restored to his right mind, for his conversation never touched upon
deeds of chivalry, and when he spoke on other subjects he always
talked most sanely.

Finally the curate and the barber decided to pay their friend a visit,
firmly resolved not to let the subject of conversation turn to
knight-errantry. They found him in bed, with a red Toledo cap on his
head. His face had changed greatly; it was so withered and yellow that
it resembled parchment rather than human flesh. He greeted them
cordially, however, and soon they engaged in an animated conversation,
which finally turned to such an intricate subject as government. So
unusually sane and clear was Don Quixote's reasoning that his friends
were amazed at the change that had taken place, and they felt quite
certain that he was cured. Then they began to discuss the news from
the capital, and the curate mentioned that the Turk was expected to
attack. Nobody knew when, he said, but in order to safeguard the
island of Malta and the coasts of Naples and Sicily, His Majesty had
already made provisions for the defense of these provinces.

Here Don Quixote interrupted and said that His Majesty could easily
settle the whole thing if he would only follow his advice. Both the
curate and the barber began to wonder and worry about what his plan
might be, but before divulging it Don Quixote insisted upon absolute
secrecy, which of course they promised. And then he began in the old,
familiar strain, citing the examples of the innumerable heroes of his
condemned books of chivalry, heroes who, single-handed, had conquered
armies of millions. He finished with a tirade about God's providing
such a knight errant to-day to save the nation and Christianity
against the onslaught of the heathen Turk, with an inference in his
last words that he was to be the chosen savior.

When the two women heard Don Quixote again rave in this manner, they
burst into tears, and the curate and the barber were as sorry and
concerned as the women. The curate turned in bewilderment to his poor
friend and asked him whether he truly believed that the heroes of these
tales of chivalry were men of flesh and blood. He himself, he said, was
convinced that these stories were nothing but fables and falsehoods, and
that none of the personages in them ever lived. Whereupon Don Quixote
began