ssed in review before the
balcony, and the knight was given the impression that it was in his
special honor they were bedecked as they were, for he did not realize
that it was a holiday. Sancho was delighted beyond description. He was
treated royally by the servants, who thought that they had never met
any one quite as amusing as he. Don Antonio's friends were all
instructed to pay homage to Don Quixote and at all times to address
him as if he were a knight errant.

The flattery and honors were too much for the poor knight: they turned
his head completely, and he became puffed up with his own importance.
Sancho, too, amused Don Antonio and his guests exceedingly, and they
enjoyed particularly hearing about his escapades as governor.

After dinner that day, the host took Don Quixote into a distant room,
which contained no furniture except a table, on which was a pedestal
supporting a head made of what seemed to be bronze. After having acted
in the most mysterious manner, and having carefully ascertained that
all the doors to the room were shut and no one listening, Antonio
swore the knight to secrecy. Then he proceeded to tell Don Quixote
that the head he saw there before him had been made by a Polish
magician, and possessed the magic faculty of being able to answer any
question whispered into its ear. Only on certain days, however, did
its magic assert itself, and the following day, which was the day
after Friday--it had been astrologically worked out--would again
witness the miracle. Don Antonio asked the knight whether there was
anything he should especially like to ask the head; if so, he could
put the question to it on the morrow. Don Quixote seemed sceptical,
but made no comment, and they returned to the other guests.

In the afternoon the knight errant was placed on a tall mule, bedecked
with beautiful trimmings, and himself encased in a heavy and
uncomfortably warm garb of yellow cloth; then, unbeknown to him, they
pinned on his back a parchment with this inscription in large letters:
THIS IS DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA.

As they were parading through the streets the knight's vanity swelled
more and more, for from every nook and corner there came great shouts
of recognition. Soon he was unable to restrain his vainglorious
nature, and he turned to his host and remarked to him with much
satisfaction: "Great are the privileges knight-errantry involves, for
it makes him who professes it known and famous in every reg