_Of an unlucky adventure which Don Quixote laid most to heart of any
that had yet befallen him._
It happened one morning that Don Quixote, going abroad to take the air
upon the sea-shore, armed at all points, according to his custom--his
arms, as he said, being his best attire--he spied a knight riding
towards him, armed like himself from head to foot, with a bright moon
blazoned on his shield, who, coming within hearing, called out to him,
"Illustrious Don Quixote de la Mancha, I am the Knight of the White
Moon, whose incredible achievements perhaps have reached thy ears. Lo!
I am come to enter into combat with thee, and to compel thee, by dint
of sword, to own and acknowledge my mistress, by whatever name and
dignity she be distinguished, to be, without any degree of comparison,
more beautiful than thy Dulcinea del Toboso. Now if thou wilt fairly
confess this truth, thou freest thyself from certain death, and me
from the trouble of taking or giving thee thy life. If not, the
conditions of our combat are these: If victory be on my side, thou
shalt be obliged immediately to forsake thy arms and the quest of
adventures, and to return to thy own house, where thou shalt engage to
live quietly and peaceably for the space of one whole year, without
laying hand on thy sword, to the improvement of thy estate, and the
salvation of thy soul. But, if thou comest off conqueror, my life is
at thy mercy, my horse and arms shall be thy trophy, and the fame of
all my former exploits, by the lineal descent of conquest, be vested
in thee as victor. Consider what thou hast to do, and let thy answer
be quick, for my despatch is limited to this very day."
Don Quixote was amazed and surprised, as much at the arrogance of the
Knight of the White Moon's challenge, as at the subject of it; so,
with a composed and solemn address, he replied, "Knight of the White
Moon, whose achievements have as yet been kept from my knowledge, it
is more than probable that you have never seen the illustrious
Dulcinea; for had you viewed her perfections, you had found arguments
enough to convince you, that no beauty, past, present, or to come, can
parallel hers; and therefore I tell thee, knight, thou art mistaken;
and this position I will maintain, by accepting your challenge on your
own conditions, except that article of your exploits descending to me;
for, not knowing what character your actions bear, I shall rest
satisfied with the fame of my own, by which, such as they are, I am
willing to abide. And since your time is so limited, choose your
ground, and begin your career as soon as you will, and expect a fair
field and no favour."
While the two knights were adjusting the preliminaries of combat, the
viceroy, who had been informed of the Knight of the White Moon's
appearance near the city walls, and his parleying with Don Quixote,
hastened to the scene of battle, not suspecting it to be any thing but
some new device of Don Antonio Moreno, or somebody else. Several
gentlemen, and Don Antonio among the rest, accompanied him thither.
They arrived just as Don Quixote was wheeling Rozinante to fetch his
career, and seeing them both ready for the onset, he interposed,
desiring to know the cause of the sudden combat. The Knight of the
White Moon told him, there was a lady in the case; and briefly
repeated to his excellency what passed between him and Don Quixote.
The viceroy whispered Don Antonio, and asked him whether he knew that
Knight of the White Moon, and whether their combat was not some
jocular device to impose upon Don Quixote? Don Antonio answered
positively, that he neither knew the knight, nor whether the combat
were in jest or earnest. This put the viceroy to some doubt whether he
should not prevent their engagement; but being at last persuaded that
it must be a jest at the bottom, he withdrew. "Valorous knights," said
he, "if there be no medium between confession and death, but Don
Quixote be still resolved to deny, and you, the Knight of the White
Moon, as obstinately to urge, I have no more to say; the field is
free, and so proceed."
The knights made their compliments to the viceroy; and Don Quixote,
making some short ejaculations to Heaven and his lady, as he always
used upon these occasions, began his career, without either sound of
trumpet or any other signal. His adversary was no less forward; for
setting spurs to his horse, which was much the swifter, he met Don
Quixote so forcibly, before he had run half his career, that without
making use of his lance, which it is thought he lifted up on purpose,
he overthrew the Knight of La Mancha and Rozinante, both coming to the
ground with a terrible fall.
The Knight of the White Moon got immediately upon him; and clapping
the point of his lance to his face, "Knight," cried he, "you are
vanquished and a dead man, unless you immediately fulfil the
conditions of your combat." Don Quixote, bruised and stunned with his
fall, without lifting up his beaver, answered in a faint hollow voice,
as if he had spoken out of a tomb, "Dulcinea del Toboso is the most
beautiful woman in the world, and I the most unfortunate knight upon
the earth. It were unjust that such perfection should suffer through
my weakness. No, pierce my body with thy lance, knight, and let my
life expire with my honour." "Not so rigorous neither," replied the
conqueror; "let the fame of the lady Dulcinea remain entire and
unblemished; provided the great Don Quixote return home for a year, as
we agreed before the combat, I am satisfied." The viceroy and Don
Antonio, with many other gentlemen, were witnesses to all these
passages, and particularly to this proposal; to which Don Quixote
answered, that upon condition he should be enjoined nothing to the
prejudice of Dulcinea, he would, upon the faith of a true knight, be
punctual in the performance of every thing else. This acknowledgment
being made, the Knight of the White Moon turned about his horse, and
saluting the viceroy, rode at a hand-gallop into the city, whither Don
Antonio followed him, at the viceroy's request, to find out who he
was, if possible.
Don Quixote was lifted up, and, upon taking off his helmet, they found
him pale, and in a cold sweat. As for Rozinante, he was in so sad a
plight, that he could not stir for the present. Then, as for Sancho,
he was in so heavy a taking, that he knew not what to do, nor what to
say: he was sometimes persuaded he was in a dream, sometimes he
fancied this rueful adventure was all witchcraft and enchantment. In
short, he found his master discomfited in the face of the world, and
bound to good behaviour and to lay aside his arms for a whole year.
Now he thought his glory eclipsed, his hopes of greatness vanished
into smoke, and his master's promises, like his bones, put out of
joint by that terrible fall, which he was afraid had at once crippled
Rozinante and his master. At last, the vanquished knight was put into
a chair, which the viceroy had sent for that purpose, and they carried
him into town, accompanied likewise by the viceroy, who had a great
curiosity to know who this Knight of the White Moon was, that had left
Don Quixote in so sad a condition.