on replied that it was a question
of precedence of beauty; and briefly told him what he had said to Don
Quixote, and how the conditions of the defiance agreed upon on both sides
had been accepted. The viceroy went over to Don Antonio, and asked in a
low voice did he know who the Knight of the White Moon was, or was it
some joke they were playing on Don Quixote. Don Antonio replied that he
neither knew who he was nor whether the defiance was in joke or in
earnest. This answer left the viceroy in a state of perplexity, not
knowing whether he ought to let the combat go on or not; but unable to
persuade himself that it was anything but a joke he fell back, saying,
"If there be no other way out of it, gallant knights, except to confess
or die, and Don Quixote is inflexible, and your worship of the White Moon
still more so, in God's hand be it, and fall on."

He of the White Moon thanked the viceroy in courteous and well-chosen
words for the permission he gave them, and so did Don Quixote, who then,
commending himself with all his heart to heaven and to his Dulcinea, as
was his custom on the eve of any combat that awaited him, proceeded to
take a little more distance, as he saw his antagonist was doing the same;
then, without blast of trumpet or other warlike instrument to give them
the signal to charge, both at the same instant wheeled their horses; and
he of the White Moon, being the swifter, met Don Quixote after having
traversed two-thirds of the course, and there encountered him with such
violence that, without touching him with his lance (for he held it high,
to all appearance purposely), he hurled Don Quixote and Rocinante to the
earth, a perilous fall. He sprang upon him at once, and placing the lance
over his visor said to him, "You are vanquished, sir knight, nay dead
unless you admit the conditions of our defiance."

Don Quixote, bruised and stupefied, without raising his visor said in a
weak feeble voice as if he were speaking out of a tomb, "Dulcinea del
Toboso is the fairest woman in the world, and I the most unfortunate
knight on earth; it is not fitting that this truth should suffer by my
feebleness; drive your lance home, sir knight, and take my life, since
you have taken away my honour."

"That will I not, in sooth," said he of the White Moon; "live the fame of
the lady Dulcinea's beauty undimmed as ever; all I require is that the
great Don Quixote retire to his own home for a year, or for so long a
time a