The carter got down and with all speed unyoked the mules, and the keeper
called out at the top of his voice, "I call all here to witness that
against my will and under compulsion I open the cages and let the lions
loose, and that I warn this gentleman that he will be accountable for all
the harm and mischief which these beasts may do, and for my salary and
dues as well. You, gentlemen, place yourselves in safety before I open,
for I know they will do me no harm."
Once more the gentleman strove to persuade Don Quixote not to do such a
mad thing, as it was tempting God to engage in such a piece of folly. To
this, Don Quixote replied that he knew what he was about. The gentleman
in return entreated him to reflect, for he knew he was under a delusion.
"Well, senor," answered Don Quixote, "if you do not like to be a
spectator of this tragedy, as in your opinion it will be, spur your
flea-bitten mare, and place yourself in safety."
Hearing this, Sancho with tears in his eyes entreated him to give up an
enterprise compared with which the one of the windmills, and the awful
one of the fulling mills, and, in fact, all the feats he had attempted in
the whole course of his life, were cakes and fancy bread. "Look ye,
senor," said Sancho, "there's no enchantment here, nor anything of the
sort, for between the bars and chinks of the cage I have seen the paw of
a real lion, and judging by that I reckon the lion such a paw could
belong to must be bigger than a mountain."
"Fear at any rate," replied Don Quixote, "will make him look bigger to
thee than half the world. Retire, Sancho, and leave me; and if I die here
thou knowest our old compact; thou wilt repair to Dulcinea--I say no
more." To these he added some further words that banished all hope of his
giving up his insane project. He of the green gaban would have offered
resistance, but he found himself ill-matched as to arms, and did not
think it prudent to come to blows with a madman, for such Don Quixote now
showed himself to be in every respect; and the latter, renewing his
commands to the keeper and repeating his threats, gave warning to the
gentleman to spur his mare, Sancho his Dapple, and the carter his mules,
all striving to get away from the cart as far as they could before the
lions broke loose. Sancho was weeping over his master's death, for this
time he firmly believed it was in store for him from the claws of the
lions; and he cursed his fate and called it an unlucky hour when he
thought of taking service with him again; but with all his tears and
lamentations he did not forget to thrash Dapple so as to put a good space
between himself and the cart. The keeper, seeing that the fugitives were
now some distance off, once more entreated and warned him as before; but
he replied that he heard him, and that he need not trouble himself with
any further warnings or entreaties, as they would be fruitless, and bade
him make haste.