Don Quixote

r than we could have shaped our desires ourselves, for look there, friend Sancho Panza, where thirty or more monstrous giants present themselves, all of whom I mean to engage in battle

s?” said Sa

s master, “with the long arms, and so

not giants but windmills, and what seem to be their arms a

of adventures; those are giants; and if thou art afraid, away with thee out of th

y were windmills and not giants he was going to attack. He, however, was so positive they were giants that he neither heard the cries of Sancho

an to move, seeing which Don Quixote exclaimed, “Though ye flouri

fell upon the first mill that stood in front of him; but as he drove his lance-point into the sail the wind whirled it round with such force that it shivered the lance to pieces, sweeping with it horse and rider,

u were about, for they were only windmills? and no one could have made an

k, and it is the truth, that that same sage Friston who carried off my study and books, has turned these giants into mills in order to rob me

eved at the loss of his lance, and saying so to his squire, he added, “I remember having read how a Spanish knight, Diego Perez de Vargas by name, having broken his sword in battle, tore from an oak a ponderous bough or branch, and with it did such things that day, and pounded so many Moors, that he got the surname of Machuca, and he and his descendants from that

r worship says it; but straighten yourself a little, for you

of the pain it is because knights-errant are not permitted to compl

ained when anything ailed you. For my part, I confess I must complain however small the ache

him he might complain whenever and however he chose, just as he liked, for, s

had made him, nor did he rate it as hardship but rather as recreation going in quest of adventures, however dangerous they might be. Finally they passed the night among some trees, from one of which Don Quixote plucked a dry branch to serve him after a fashion as a lance, and fixed on it the head he had removed from the broken one. All that night Don Quixote lay awake thinking of his lady Dulcinea, in order to conform to what he had read in his books, how many a night in the forests and deserts knights used to lie sleepless supported by the memory of their mistresses. Not so did Sancho Panza spend it,

o the elbows in what they call adventures; but observe, even shouldst thou see me in the greatest danger in the world, thou must not put a hand to thy sword in my defence, unless indeed thou perceivest that those who assail

peaceful and no friend to mixing in strife and quarrels: it is true that as regards the defence of my own person I shall n

matter of aiding me against knights thou must

swered Sancho, “and will keep thi

and two muleteers on foot. In the coach there was, as afterwards appeared, a Biscay lady on her way to Seville, where her husband was about to take passage for the Indies with an appointment of high honour. The friars, though going the same road, were not in her company; but the moment Don Quixote perce

friars of St. Benedict, and the coach plainly belongs to some travellers: I

, “that on the subject of adventures thou knowest littl

ey had come near enough to hear what he said, he cried aloud, “Devilish and unnatural beings, release instantly the highborn princes

ich they replied, “Senor Caballero, we are not devilish or unnatural, but two brothers of St. Benedict f

ar with such fury and determination, that, if the friar had not flung himself off the mule, he would have brought him to the ground against his will, and sore wounded, if

o idea of a joke and did not understand all this about battles and spoils, seeing that Don Quixote was some distance off talking to the travellers in the coach, fell upon Sancho, knocked him down, and leaving hardly a hair in his beard, belaboured him with kicks and left him stretched breathless and senseless on the ground; and without any more delay helpe

on the ground through this strong arm of mine; and lest you should be pining to know the name of your deliverer, know that I am called Don Quixote of La Mancha, knight-errant and adventurer, and captive to the peerless and beautiful

ach to go on, but was saying it must return at once to El Toboso, he made at him, and seizing his lance addressed him in bad Castilian and worse Biscaya

ness, miserable creature.” To which the Biscayan returned, “I no gentleman! — I swear to God thou liest as I am Christian: if thou droppest lance and drawest swor

throwing his lance on the ground he drew his sword, braced his buck

stress and everyone that strove to prevent him. The lady in the coach, amazed and terrified at what she saw, ordered the coachman to draw aside a little, and set herself to watch this severe struggle, in the course of which the Biscayan smote Don Quixote a mighty stroke on the shoulder over the top of his buckler, which, given to one without armour, would have cleft him to the waist. Don Quixote, feeling the weight of this prodigious blow, cried aloud, saying, “O lady of my soul, Dulcinea, flower of beauty, come to the aid of this your knight, who, in fulfilling his obligatio

the images and shrines of Spain, that God might deliver her squire and all of them from this great peril in which they found themselves. But it spoils all, that at this point and crisis the author of the history leaves this battle impending, giving as excuse that he could find nothing more written about these achievements of Don Quixote than what has been already set forth. It is true the second author of this work was unwilling to believe