Don Quixote - Part I

"Where art thou, proud Alifanfaron? Come before me; I am a single knight

who would fain prove thy prowess hand to hand, and make thee yield thy

life a penalty for the wrong thou dost to the valiant Pentapolin

Garamanta." Here came a sugar-plum from the brook that struck him on the

side and buried a couple of ribs in his body. Feeling himself so smitten,

he imagined himself slain or badly wounded for certain, and recollecting

his liquor he drew out his flask, and putting it to his mouth began to

pour the contents into his stomach; but ere he had succeeded in

swallowing what seemed to him enough, there came another almond which

struck him on the hand and on the flask so fairly that it smashed it to

pieces, knocking three or four teeth and grinders out of his mouth in its

course, and sorely crushing two fingers of his hand. Such was the force

of the first blow and of the second, that the poor knight in spite of

himself came down backwards off his horse. The shepherds came up, and

felt sure they had killed him; so in all haste they collected their flock

together, took up the dead beasts, of which there were more than seven,

and made off without waiting to ascertain anything further.

All this time Sancho stood on the hill watching the crazy feats his

master was performing, and tearing his beard and cursing the hour and the

occasion when fortune had made him acquainted with him. Seeing him, then,

brought to the ground, and that the shepherds had taken themselves off,

he ran to him and found him in very bad case, though not unconscious; and

said he:

"Did I not tell you to come back, Senor Don Quixote; and that what you

were going to attack were not armies but droves of sheep?"

"That's how that thief of a sage, my enemy, can alter and falsify

things," answered Don Quixote; "thou must know, Sancho, that it is a very

easy matter for those of his sort to make us believe what they choose;

and this malignant being who persecutes me, envious of the glory he knew

I was to win in this battle, has turned the squadrons of the enemy into

droves of sheep. At any rate, do this much, I beg of thee, Sancho, to

undeceive thyself, and see that what I say is true; mount thy ass and

follow them quietly, and thou shalt see that when they have gone some

little distance from this they will return to their original shape and,

ceasing to be sheep, become men in all respects as I described them to

thee at first. But go not just yet, for I want thy help and assistance;

come hither, and see how many of my teeth and grinders are missing, for I

feel as if there was not one left in my mouth."