im far more than mere sword-thrusts or bruises was the loss of
his helmet.

But, come what might, his spirit was never daunted, though he could not
deny that, as Sancho Panza truly said, never had they gained any battle,
unless they counted one which was doubtful, and even at that the knight
had come off the poorer by half an ear and half a helmet.

'From the first day we set out,' went on the good squire, 'until this
moment, we have received nothing but blows and more blows, beatings and
more beatings, over and above the tossing I once got in a blanket. And
you tell me that the fellows who maltreat me so are enchanted, and would
not feel my blows if I had a chance of returning them. In truth, my eyes
are too dull to see where lies the pleasure of conquering one's foes, of
which your worship is always telling me.'

'Ah, Sancho, that is just what grieves me,' answered Don Quixote sadly;
'but henceforth I will seek to gird myself always with a sword that
shall be enchanted in such a manner that it will defend me from any
spells they may try to throw over me. Maybe that Fortune will send me
that of Amadis, one of the keenest blades in the world, and the best
sword that ever knight had. But look, do you see that cloud of dust
rising out there? That tells us that a large army, made up of men and
nations without number, are marching towards us.'

'By that way of reckoning,' answered the squire, 'another army must be
advancing to meet them, for behind us the cloud is just as thick.'

Filled with joy at the thought of fighting two armies, Don Quixote
turned to look, and his heart beat high. The dust was so thick that
neither he nor Sancho could perceive that the clouds of dust were caused
by two immense flocks of sheep. To the mind of the knight they _could_
be nothing but vast armies, and this he declared so positively that at
length Sancho Panza came to believe it also. The squire, however, looked
on the fact with very different feelings to his master, and asked
anxiously:

'Noble sir, what are we to do?'

'What _can_ we do,' replied the knight, 'except fly to the help of those
who need it? For you must know, friend Sancho, that the army in front of
us is led by the Emperor Alifanfaron, while the other, which is marching
to meet him, is Pentapolin of the Uplifted Arm, so called because he
rides into battle with his right arm bare.'

'And what is their quarrel?' asked Sancho.

'Alifanfaron is a Moslem, yet desires to