CHAPTER XVI.

OF WHAT BEFELL DON QUIXOTE WITH A DISCREET GENTLEMAN OF LA MANCHA


Don Quixote pursued his journey in the high spirits, satisfaction, and
self-complacency already described, fancying himself the most valorous
knight-errant of the age in the world because of his late victory. All
the adventures that could befall him from that time forth he regarded as
already done and brought to a happy issue; he made light of enchantments
and enchanters; he thought no more of the countless drubbings that had
been administered to him in the course of his knight-errantry, nor of the
volley of stones that had levelled half his teeth, nor of the ingratitude
of the galley slaves, nor of the audacity of the Yanguesans and the
shower of stakes that fell upon him; in short, he said to himself that
could he discover any means, mode, or way of disenchanting his lady
Dulcinea, he would not envy the highest fortune that the most fortunate
knight-errant of yore ever reached or could reach.

He was going along entirely absorbed in these fancies, when Sancho said
to him, "Isn't it odd, senor, that I have still before my eyes that
monstrous enormous nose of my gossip, Tom Cecial?"

"And dost thou, then, believe, Sancho," said Don Quixote, "that the
Knight of the Mirrors was the bachelor Carrasco, and his squire Tom
Cecial thy gossip?"