In this manner we were punished by the felonious and ill-designing Malambruno, who covered the smoothness and delicacy of our faces with the roughness of these bristles; and would to heaven he had rather struck off our heads with his unmeasurable scimitar, than obscured the light of our countenances with this frightful bush[.]
“[A]nd therefore, if we are not redressed by señor Don Quixote, we must e’en carry our beards to the grave.” “If I do not redress your whiskers, cried the knight, I will leave mine among the Moors.”
Meanwhile, night came on, and along with it the time fixed for the arrival of the famous steed Clavileno, whose delay began already to bother Don Quixote; for, he looked up on the detention of the horse, as a sign that he himself was not the knight for whom the adventure was reserved, or that Malambruno was afraid to engage with him in single combat.