The ladies, then, having retired to their chamber, and the others having disposed themselves with as little discomfort as they could, Don Quixote sallied out of the inn to act as sentinel of the castle as he had promised. It happened, however, that a little before the approach of dawn a voice so musical and sweet reached the ears of the ladies that it forced them all to listen attentively, but especially Dorothea, who had been awake, and by whose side Doña Clara de Viedma, for so the Judge’s daughter was called, lay sleeping. No one could imagine who it was that sang so sweetly, and the voice was unaccompanied by any instrument. At one moment it seemed to them as if the singer were in the courtyard, at another in the stable; and as they were all attention, wondering, Cardenio came to the door and said, “Listen, whoever is not asleep, and you will hear a muleteer’s voice that enchants as it chants.”

“We are listening to it already, señor,” said Dorothea; on which Cardenio went away; and Dorothea, giving all her attention to it, made out the words of the song to be these: