Sancho reached his master in a daze, without even the strength to drive his donkey. Seeing the state he was in, Don Quixote spoke. “Good Sancho, now I know for certain. That castle, or inn, is surely enchanted. Those who made such sport of thee were phantoms and creatures of the other world. That is also why I could neither climb the wall nor get down from my horse, for they held me bound by enchantment. Otherwise I would have taken such revenge on those villains that they would never forget it, even if I had to break the law of chivalry to do it.”
“I’d have taken revenge too if I could, knight or no knight. But I couldn’t. Those men weren’t phantoms or enchanted people. They were flesh and bone like us. I heard them calling each other by name while they tossed me. One was Pedro Martínez and another was Tenorio Hernández, and the innkeeper is Juan Palomeque the Left-Handed. So there must be some other reason, not enchantment, why you couldn’t get over the wall or off your horse.”
Sancho went a step further. If they kept wandering about looking for adventures like this, he said, they would have so much bad luck that they would not know their right foot from their left. It was harvest time, so they would do better to go home and see to the farm. It was time to stop roaming here and there.