Night. Torches. White figures.
Sancho sees ghosts.
Don Quixote sees opportunity.
Funeral procession passes quietly.
Don Quixote interrupts… loudly.
He attacks what is basically a group of priests escorting a corpse.
Explains it all as justice. Naturally.
Afterwards: a calm conversation with a very confused bachelor of arts whose biggest crime was… attending a funeral.
For me:
Fear turns shadows into ghosts.
Imagination turns funerals into battles.
And Don Quixote manages to be both wrong and convinced at the same time.