Don Quixote by Miquel de Cervantes, Chapter V, Paragraphs 12-16

PARAGRAPH 12: The niece said the same, and, more: "You must know, Master Nicholas"- for that was the name of the barber- "it was often my uncle's way to stay two days and nights together poring over these unholy books of misventures, after which he would fling the book away and snatch up his sword and fall to slashing the walls; and when he was tired out he would say he had killed four giants like four towers; and the sweat that flowed from him when he was weary he said was the blood of the wounds he had received in battle; and then he would drink a great jug of cold water and become calm and quiet, saying that this water was a most precious potion which the sage Esquife, a great magician and friend of his, had brought him. But I take all the blame upon myself for never having told your worships of my uncle's vagaries, that you might put a stop to them before things had come to this pass, and burn all these accursed books- for he has a great number- that richly deserve to be burned like heretics."

TIM-ELVIS' OBSERVATIONS ON PARAGRAPH 12:
Okay, I told you that the niece was going to bitch about the books Don Quixote reads, too. She tells the barber (whose name is Nicholas) that the Don used to stay up reading for two days and night straight without sleep to finish a book. When he was done reading the book, he'd throw it aside, grab his sword and run around the room slashing away at the walls until he wore himself out. He would tell everyone that he had killed four giants and sweat he worked up with his sword play was the blood from the wounds he'd received killing the giants. Then he'd drink a bottle of water and calm down, telling everyone it was a magic potion to cure him. The niece feels bad that she hadn't told anyone about her uncle's behavior before he ran off. She felt if she had then they could have helped him, perhaps by burning his books. That's right, blame the books. Hey lady, books don't kill people. People kill people.

PARAGRAPH 13: "So say I too," said the curate, "and by my faith to-morrow shall not pass without public judgment upon them, and may they be condemned to the flames lest they lead those that read to behave as my good friend seems to have behaved."

TIM-ELVIS' OBSERVATIONS ON PARAGRAPH 13:
The priest agrees with the niece and condemns the books to being burned the next day.

PARAGRAPH 14: All this the peasant heard, and from it he understood at last what was the matter with his neighbour, so he began calling aloud, "Open, your worships, to Senor Baldwin and to Senor the Marquis of Mantua, who comes badly wounded, and to Senor Abindarraez, the Moor, whom the valiant Rodrigo de Narvaez, the Alcaide of Antequera, brings captive."

TIM-ELVIS' OBSERVATIONS ON PARAGRAPH 14:
The peasant listens to all of this and realizes that the Don is delusional. So he decides to play along with Don Quixote so he doesn't wig out further. He calls for the people gathered in Don Quixote's house to open up for the fictional knights who has been wounded in battle.

PARAGRAPH 15: At these words they all hurried out, and when they recognised their friend, master, and uncle, who had not yet dismounted from the ass because he could not, they ran to embrace him.

TIM-ELVIS' OBSERVATIONS ON PARAGRAPH 15:
Everyone rushes outside and recognizes Don Quixote sitting on his ass (I couldn't resist saying that). They hug him on his ass (I couldn't resist saying that, either).

PARAGRAPH 16: "Hold!" said he, "for I am badly wounded through my horse's fault; carry me to bed, and if possible send for the wise Urganda to cure and see to my wounds."

TIM-ELVIS' OBSERVATIONS ON PARAGRAPH 16:
Don Quixote tells everyone to back off from his ass (I'm sorry). He says that he is badly wounded and blames it on his horse. Then he tells them to send for someone named Urganda to cure him. Okay, Urganda was a fictional enchantress from one of Don Quixote's books.

See, this is what pisses me off about Cervantes. He drops in random names for no apparant reason. Oh, I'm sure they probably meant something back in 1511 or so, but Urganda isn't exactly a household name in 2006.

Anyway, hopefully Don Quixote will get off his ass in the next paragraph (ha, ha, ha...).