ature deliberation, he resolved to do
it on foot, lest Rozinante, at sight of the lions, should be put into
disorder. Accordingly he quitted his horse, threw aside his lance,
grasped his shield, and drew his sword; then advancing step by step,
with wondrous courage and an undaunted heart, he posted himself just
before the door of the cage, commending himself to Heaven, and
afterwards to his lady Dulcinea.

At this point it must be known, the author of this faithful history
makes the following exclamation. "O thou most brave and unutterably
bold Don Quixote de la Mancha! Thou mirror and grand exemplar of
valor! Thou second and new Don Emanuel de Leon, the late glory and
honor of all Spanish cavaliers! What words shall I use to express this
astonishing deed of thine! What language shall I employ to convince
posterity of its truth! What praises can be coined, and eulogies
invented, that will not be outvied by thy superior merit, though
hyperboles were piled on hyperboles! Thou alone, on foot, intrepid and
magnanimous, with nothing but a sword, and that none of the sharpest,
with thy single shield, and that none of the brightest, stoodst ready
to receive and encounter the two fiercest lions that ever roared
within the Libyan deserts. Then let thine own deeds speak thy praise,
brave champion of La Mancha, while I am obliged to leave off, for want
of words to maintain the flight." Here ended the author's exclamation,
and the history goes on.

The keeper, observing the posture Don Quixote had put himself in, and
that it was not possible for him to prevent letting out the lions,
without incurring the resentment of the desperate knight, set the door
of the foremost cage wide open; where, as I have said, was the male
lion, who appeared of a monstrous bigness and of a hideous, frightful
aspect. The first thing he did was to turn himself round in his cage,
stretch out one of his paws, and rouse himself. After that he gaped
and yawned for a good while, and then thrust out almost two spans of
tongue, and with it licked the dust out of his eyes and face. Having
done this, he thrust his head out of the cage, and stared about with
his eyes that looked like two live coals; a sight and motion enough to
have struck terror into temerity itself. But Don Quixote only regarded
it with attention, wishing he would leap out of the wagon, and come
within his reach, that he might cut the monster piecemeal. To this
height had his incredible folly