agance had his unheard-of madness transported him.

But the generous lion, more civil than arrogant, taking no notice of his
vaporing and bravados, after having stared about him, as has been said,
turned his back and showed his posteriors to Don Quixote, and with
great phlegm and calmness laid himself down again in the cage; which Don
Quixote perceiving, he ordered the keeper to give him some blows and
provoke him to come forth.

"That I will not do," answered the keeper; "for, should I provoke him, I
myself shall be the first he will tear in pieces. Be satisfied, signor
cavalier, with what is done, which is all that can be said in point of
courage, and do not tempt fortune a second time. The lion has the door
open, and it is in his choice to come forth or not; and since he has not
yet come out, he will not come out all this day. The greatness of your
worship's courage is already sufficiently shown. No brave combatant, as
I take it, is obliged to more than to challenge his foe, and expect him
in the field; and if the antagonist does not meet him, the disgrace
falls on him, while the challenger is entitled to the crown of victory."

"That is true," answered Don Quixote; "shut the door, and give me a
certificate in the best form you can of what you have here seen me
perform. It should be known that you opened the door to the lion; that I
waited for him; that he came not out; again I waited for him; again he
came not out; and again he laid himself down. I am bound to no
more,--enchantments avaunt! So Heaven prosper right and justice and true
chivalry! Shut the door, as I told thee, while I make a signal to the
fugitive and absent, that from your own mouth they may have an account
of this exploit."

The keeper closed the door, and Don Quixote, having fixed the linen
cloth with which he had wiped the curds from his face upon the point of
his lance, began to hail the troop in the distance, who, with the
gentleman in green at their head, were still retiring, but looking round
at every step, when suddenly Sancho observed the signal of the white
cloth.

"May I be hanged," cried he, "if my master has not vanquished the wild
beasts, for he is calling to us!"

They all stopped, and saw that it was Don Quixote that made the sign;
and, their fear in some degree abating, they ventured to return slowly
till they could distinctly hear the words of Don Quixote, who continued
calling to them. When they had reached the cart again, Do