DON QUIXOTE

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against beauty like that of my lady."

And so saying, he charged with levelled lance against the one who had
spoken, with such fury and fierceness that, if luck had not contrived
that Rocinante should stumble midway and come down, it would have gone
hard with the rash trader. Down went Rocinante, and over went his master,
rolling along the ground for some distance; and when he tried to rise he
was unable, so encumbered was he with lance, buckler, spurs, helmet, and
the weight of his old armour; and all the while he was struggling to get
up he kept saying, "Fly not, cowards and caitiffs! stay, for not by my
fault, but my horse's, am I stretched here."




One of the muleteers in attendance, who could not have had much good
nature in him, hearing the poor prostrate man blustering in this style,