a stout crew, and two days later the galleys
made sail eastward, the general having begged the viceroy to let him know
all about the release of Don Gregorio and about Ana Felix, and the
viceroy promised to do as he requested.

One morning as Don Quixote went out for a stroll along the beach, arrayed
in full armour (for, as he often said, that was "his only gear, his only
rest the fray," and he never was without it for a moment), he saw coming
towards him a knight, also in full armour, with a shining moon painted on
his shield, who, on approaching sufficiently near to be heard, said in a
loud voice, addressing himself to Don Quixote, "Illustrious knight, and
never sufficiently extolled Don Quixote of La Mancha, I am the Knight of
the White Moon, whose unheard-of achievements will perhaps have recalled
him to thy memory. I come to do battle with thee and prove the might of
thy arm, to the end that I make thee acknowledge and confess that my
lady, let her be who she may, is incomparably fairer than thy Dulcinea
del Toboso. If thou dost acknowledge this fairly and openly, thou shalt
escape death and save me the trouble of inflicting it upon thee; if thou
fightest and I vanquish thee, I demand no other satisfaction than that,
laying aside arms and abstaining from going in quest of adventures, thou
withdraw and betake thyself to thine own village for the space of a year,
and live there without putting hand to sword, in peace and quiet and
beneficial repose, the same being needful for the increase of thy
substance and the salvation of thy soul; and if thou dost vanquish me, my
head shall be at thy disposal, my arms and horse thy spoils, and the
renown of my deeds transferred and added to thine. Consider which will be
thy best course, and give me thy answer speedily, for this day is all the
time I have for the despatch of this business."

Don Quixote was amazed and astonished, as well at the Knight of the White
Moon's arrogance, as at his reason for delivering the defiance, and with
calm dignity he answered him, "Knight of the White Moon, of whose
achievements I have never heard until now, I will venture to swear you
have never seen the illustrious Dulcinea; for had you seen her I know you
would have taken care not to venture yourself upon this issue, because
the sight would have removed all doubt from your mind that there ever has
been or can be a beauty to be compared with hers; and so, not saying you
lie, but merely that you