Man of La Mancha Page #3

And serpents of sin

All your dastardly doings

are past

For a holy endeavor

is now to begin

And virtue shall triumph at last

- I am I, Don Quixote

- I am Sancho

- The Lord of La Mancha

- Yes, I am Sancho

- My destiny calls and I go

- Follow my master till the end

- And the wild winds of fortune

- I'll tell all the world

- Will carry me onward

- Proudly I'm his squire

- Whithersoever they blow

- I'm his friend

Whithersoever they blow

Onward to glory I go

Well, Sancho,

likest thou adventuring?

It's marvelous, Your Grace,

but it is peculiar.

This great road to glory...

Looks exactly like

the road to El Diboso...

where you can buy

chickens cheap.

'Tis a sign thou art little

acquainted with adventuring.

Only wait, and thou shalt see

amazing sights.

Like what?

There will be

knights and nations...

warlocks and wizards.

A cavalcade

of vast, unending armies.

They sound dangerous.

They are dangerous.

But one there will be

the most dangerous of all.

- Who?

- The Great Enchanter.

- The Great Enchanter?

- Yes. Beware him, Sancho.

His thoughts are cold,

his soul shriveled...

his eyes

are little machines...

and where he walks,

the earth is blighted.

One day, I will meet him

face to face.

Well, I wouldn't get upset,

Your Grace.

As I always say...

have patience

and shuffle the cards.

- Proverb?

- Yes, Your Grace.

Proverb piled on proverb,

you never cease.

No, Your Grace,

I've got a belly full of them.

- As I always say...

- Sweet Jesu!

- Do you see him?

- Who?

The Great Enchanter!

- Dost thou not see?

- What?

The monstrous giant

of infamous repute!

Whom I intend to encounter.

- It's a windmill.

- A giant.

A windmill.

A giant!

Canst thou not see...

the four great arms

a-whirling at his back?

A giant?

Exactly.

How long since we sallied forth?

About two minutes.

So soon will I engage

in brave, unequaled combat.

Hold there, foul monster!

Cease the knocking

of thy craven knees...

and prepare to do battle!

I swear, Your Grace...

by my wife's

little black mustache...

- that is not...

- Charge!

Your Grace, wait!

Surrender!

Vile coward!

Surrender!

Surrender! Have at you!

Surrender, coward!

Vile creature,

do not seek to bleat!

Hold on!

Hold on, Master!

Yield!

I'll show thee no mercy!

- Vile creature!

- Hold on!

Surrender, I tell thee!

Fall to thy knees and beg mercy!

Or I'll rob thee

of thy very life!

Thou art vanquished!

Vanquished!

Vanquished!

- Hold on, Master!

- Surrender!

Have at you!

Surrender, vile creature!

Surrender!

Your Grace!

Your Grace!

Master!

Didn't I tell you?

Didn't I say,

"Your Grace, it's a windmill"?

The work of mine enemy!

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