'How! Sayest thou so?' said Don Quixote. 'Dost thou not hear the horses neigh and the trumpets sound and the noise of the drums?'

'I hear nothing else,' said Sancho, 'but the great bleating of sheep.'

And so it was, indeed, for by this time the two flocks were approaching very near to them.

'The fear thou art in,' said Don Quixote, 'permits thee neither to see nor hear aright, for one of the effects of fear is to disturb the senses and make things seem different from what they are. If thou art afraid, stand to one side and leave me to myself, for I alone can give the victory to the side which I assist.'

So saying he clapped spurs to Rozinante, and, setting his lance in rest, rode down the hillside like a thunderbolt.

Sancho shouted after him as loud as he could: 'Return, good Sir Don Quixote! Return! For verily all those you go to charge are but sheep and muttons. Return, I say! Alas that ever I was born! What madness is this? Look, there are neither Knights, nor arms, nor shields, nor soldiers, nor Emperors, but only sheep. What is it you do, wretch that I am?'

For all this Don Quixote did not turn back, but rode on, shouting in a loud voice: 'So ho! Knights! Ye that serve and fight under the banner of Pentapolin of the Naked Arm, follow me, all of you. Ye shall see how easily I will revenge him on his enemy Alifamfaron of Trapobana!'

With these words he dashed into the midst of the flock of sheep, and began to spear them with as much courage and fury as if he were fighting his mortal enemies.

The Shepherds that came with the flock cried to him to leave off, but seeing their words had no effect, they unloosed their slings and began to salute his pate with stones as big as one's fist.