Good God! Who is there that could properly describe
the rage that filled the heart of our Manchegan when
he saw himself dealt with in this fashion? All
that can be said is, it was such that he again raised
himself in his stirrups, and, grasping his sword more
firmly with both hands, he came down on the Biscayan
with such fury, smiting him full over the cushion
and over the head, that—even so good a shield
proving useless—as if a mountain had fallen
on him, he began to bleed from nose, mouth, and ears,
reeling as if about to fall backwards from his mule,
as no doubt he would have done had he not flung his
arms about its neck; at the same time, however, he
slipped his feet out of the stirrups and then unclasped
his arms, and the mule, taking fright at the terrible
blow, made off across the plain, and with a few plunges
flung its master to the ground. Don Quixote stood
looking on very calmly, and, when he saw him fall,
leaped from his horse and with great briskness ran
to him, and, presenting the point of his sword to
his eyes, bade him surrender, or he would cut his
head off. The Biscayan was so bewildered that
he was unable to answer a word, and it would have
gone hard with him, so blind was Don Quixote, had
not the ladies in the coach, who had hitherto been
watching the combat in great terror, hastened to where
he stood and implored him with earnest entreaties
to grant them the great grace and favour of sparing
their squire’s life; to which Don Quixote replied
with much gravity and dignity, “In truth, fair
ladies, I am well content to do what ye ask of me;
but it must be on one condition and understanding,
which is that this knight promise me to go to the
village of El Toboso, and on my behalf present himself
before the peerless lady Dulcinea, that she deal with
him as shall be most pleasing to her.”
The terrified and disconsolate ladies, without discussing
Don Quixote’s demand or asking who Dulcinea
might be, promised that their squire should do all
that had been commanded.
“Then, on the faith of that promise,”
said Don Quixote, “I shall do him no further
harm, though he well deserves it of me.”
CHAPTER X.
OF THE PLEASANT DISCOURSE THAT PASSED BETWEEN DON QUIXOTE AND HIS SQUIRE
SANCHO PANZA
Now by this time Sancho had risen, rather the worse
for the handling of the friars’ muleteers, and
stood watching the battle of his master, Don Quixote,
and praying to God in his heart that it might be his
will to grant him the victory, and that he might thereby
win some island to make him governor of, as he had
promised. Seeing, therefore, that the struggle
was now over, and that his master was returning to
mount Rocinante, he approached to hold the stirrup
for him, and, before he could mount, he went on his
knees before him, and taking his hand, kissed it saying,
“May it please your worship, Senor Don Quixote,
to give me the government of that island which has
been won in this hard fight, for be it ever so big
I feel myself in sufficient force to be able to govern
it as much and as well as anyone in the world who
has ever governed islands.”
