On the day of the battle with the sheep, the two of them found nowhere to stay before the sun went down. Riding ahead, Sancho brought out something he had been keeping to himself. “Master, I think everything that’s happened to us these last days is punishment for breaking the rules of chivalry. You swore you wouldn’t eat bread off a tablecloth until you took a helmet from that Moor. Malandrino or whatever his name is, I can’t quite remember.”
Don Quixote readily admitted it. He had simply forgotten that vow, he said. He added that the business with the blanket was Sancho’s fault for not reminding him in time, and that chivalry has a way of setting everything right. He himself would make amends.
Sancho asked whether he had sworn anything too. His master’s answer was that, sworn or not, no one could be sure Sancho had no share in the blame, so it was better to be prepared. Sancho then begged him not to forget it this time. The phantoms might want to have their fun with him again, he said, and if they saw how stubborn his master was they might include him as well.