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By Root 1126 0

they were overtaken by a man riding behind them on the same road, mounted on a very beautiful dapple mare and wearing a coat of fine green cloth trimmed with tawny velvet and a cap made of the same velvet; the mare’s trappings, in the rustic style and with a short stirrup, were also purple and green. He wore a Moorish scimitar hanging from a wide green and gold swordbelt, and his half boots matched his swordbelt; his spurs were not gilt but touched with a green varnish, so glossy and polished that, since they matched the rest of his clothing, they looked better than if they had been made of pure gold. When the traveler reached them he greeted them courteously and spurred his mare in order to pass by, but Don Quixote said:

“Gallant Señor, if your grace is traveling the same road and is not in a hurry, I would be very pleased if we traveled together.”

“The truth is,” responded the man on the mare, “that I would not ride by so quickly if it were not for my fear that the presence of my mare might disturb your horse.”

“Señor,” Sancho responded at this point, “you can certainly, certainly tighten your mare’s reins, because our horse is the most chaste, best-behaved horse in the world; on similar occasions he has never done anything low or base, and once when he was rude enough to try, my master and I made him pay for it seven times over. I say again that your grace can stop if you want to, because even if she’s brought to him on a silver platter, I’m sure our horse won’t even look your mare in the face.”

The traveler pulled on his reins, marveling at the bearing and face of Don Quixote, who rode without his sallet helmet, which Sancho had hung like a bag over the forebow of the donkey’s packsaddle; and if the man in green looked at Don Quixote a great deal, Don Quixote looked even more at the man in green, thinking him a virtuous and judicious person. He seemed to be about fifty, with few gray hairs and an aquiline face; his aspect was both cheerful and grave; in short, his dress and bearing made it clear that he was a man of good qualities.

The judgment of the man in green with regard to Don Quixote of La Mancha was that he had never seen anyone like him in manner or appearance; he was amazed by the length of his horse, his height, his thin, sallow face, his weapons, his bearing and behavior: a form and appearance not seen for many long years in that land. Don Quixote noticed how attentively the traveler was looking at him and read his desires in his astonishment, and since Don Quixote was courteous and wished to please everyone, before the traveler could ask anything he met him halfway, saying:

“Your grace has noticed my appearance, which is so unusual and far removed from what is commonly seen that I am not surprised at your surprise, but your grace will no longer be so when I tell you, as I do now, that I am a knight,

the kind, as people say,

who go to seek adventures.

I left my home, mortgaged my estate, left behind my comfort, and threw myself into the arms of Fortune so that she may carry me wherever she chooses. I have desired to revive a long-dead knight errantry, and for many days, stumbling here, falling there, dropping down in one place and standing up in another, I have fulfilled a good part of my desire, helping widows, protecting maidens, favoring married women, orphans, and wards, which is the proper and natural work of knights errant; because of my many worthy Christian deeds, I have deserved to be published in almost all or most of the nations in the world. Thirty thousand copies of my history have been printed, and thirty thousand thousand times more are on their way to being printed if heaven does not intervene. Briefly then, to summarize everything in a few words, or in only one, I say that I am Don Quixote of La Mancha, also known as the Knight of the Sorrowful Face, and although praising oneself is vile, I am obliged perhaps to sing my own praises, which is understandable since there is no one present to do it for me; and so, Señor, neither this horse nor this lance, this shield nor this squire,