Suddenly they had heard the poor dead knight moan in the most heartrending way, and he had asked Montesinos again and again whether he had done as he had bade him and carried his heart to his Lady Belerma in France. Montesinos had fallen on his knees and had assured his cousin with tearful eyes that as soon as he had died he had cut out his heart with a poniard, dried it with a lace handkerchief as well as he could, and then departed to see his Lady. At the first village he had come to in France, he had stopped to sprinkle some salt on it to keep it fresh, and had given it to the Lady Belerma, who was now also enchanted in this cave.
Don Quixote continued his tale. The enchanter, the sage Merlin, so Montesinos had said, had prophesied that he, Don Quixote, reviver of knight-errantry, was to be the one to disenchant them all. He and Montesinos had almost come to blows, however, when the latter had inferred that during her enchantment the Lady Belerma had developed large circles under her eyes, and that if it had not been for these her beauty would have surpassed even that of the famous Lady Dulcinea of El Toboso. But Montesinos was courteous enough to apologize and acknowledge the truth of the proverb which says that comparisons are odious.
Sancho and the young author of books had some difficulty in persuading themselves that all these things had happened in so short a time, for Don Quixote had only been gone about an hour; but Don Quixote, hearing this, insisted that he had been absent three days and three nights. Then he proceeded to tell how he had felt no hunger whatever, that none down there ever ate, and that the enchanted never slept; he admitted, however, that their nails, hair, and beards grew.
When Sancho heard all this he asked to be forgiven by God for saying he thought his master was lying, but the next moment he had retracted it, and when his master asked what he really meant, he said he did not know.
There was one thing that had happened to our knight in the cave, which caused him infinite pain; he had met one of the enchanted ladies-in-waiting to his Lady Dulcinea, and she had told him in confidence that his beloved one wanted to borrow six reals on a petticoat which she had bought. He gave her all that he had, which amounted to only four reals, and she gave him in exchange her lady's blessing, saying that with it went many kisses. As she left him, he said, she had cut a caper and had sprung fully two yards into the air.