“I doubt it,” replied Sancho Panza, “because
for my part I am persuaded that though God should
shower down kingdoms upon earth, not one of them would
fit the head of Mari Gutierrez. Let me tell you,
senor, she is not worth two maravedis for a queen;
countess will fit her better, and that only with God’s
help.”
“Leave it to God, Sancho,” returned Don
Quixote, “for he will give her what suits her
best; but do not undervalue thyself so much as to come
to be content with anything less than being governor
of a province.”
“I will not, senor,” answered Sancho,
“specially as I have a man of such quality for
a master in your worship, who will know how to give
me all that will be suitable for me and that I can
bear.”
OF THE GOOD FORTUNE WHICH THE VALIANT DON QUIXOTE HAD IN THE TERRIBLE AND
UNDREAMT-OF ADVENTURE OF THE WINDMILLS, WITH OTHER OCCURRENCES WORTHY TO
BE FITLY RECORDED
At this point they came in sight of thirty forty windmills
that there are on plain, and as soon as Don Quixote
saw them he said to his squire, “Fortune is
arranging matters for us better 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 and slay, and with whose spoils we shall begin
to make our fortunes; for this is righteous warfare,
and it is God’s good service to sweep so evil
a breed from off the face of the earth.”
“What giants?” said Sancho Panza.
“Those thou seest there,” answered his
master, “with the long arms, and some have them
nearly two leagues long.”
“Look, your worship,” said Sancho; “what
we see there are not giants but windmills, and what
seem to be their arms are the sails that turned by
the wind make the millstone go.”
“It is easy to see,” replied Don Quixote,
“that thou art not used to this business of
adventures; those are giants; and if thou art afraid,
away with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer
while I engage them in fierce and unequal combat.”
So saying, he gave the spur to his steed Rocinante,
heedless of the cries his squire Sancho sent after
him, warning him that most certainly they 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, nor perceived, near as he was,
what they were, but made at them shouting, “Fly
not, cowards and vile beings, for a single knight attacks
you.”
A slight breeze at this moment sprang up, and the
great sails began to move, seeing which Don Quixote
exclaimed, “Though ye flourish more arms than
the giant Briareus, ye have to reckon with me.”
