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𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘑𝘦𝘧𝘧 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘋𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 13 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘓𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘳… 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘚𝘰𝘯 𝘜𝘴𝘦 𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘋𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘦 (𝘛𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘙𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥) [Main Logotype (Dark Green) | EMA]( “One–Stock MіІІіоnаіrе” IGNORES 99.9% of the Entire Market [𝐽𝑒𝑓𝑓 𝐶𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑘]( During the 2008 fіnаnсіаІ crisis, mіІІіоnаіrе trader Jeff Clark stunned the world when he managed to double his readers’ mоnеу 26 TIMES… The Biscayan, when he saw him coming on, though he wished to dismount from his mule, in which, being one of those sorry ones let out for hire, he had no confidence, had no choice but to draw his sword; it was lucky for him, however, that he was near the coach, from which he was able to snatch a cushion that served him for a shield; and they went at one another as if they had been two mortal enemies. The others strove to make peace between them, but could not, for the Biscayan declared in his disjointed phrase that if they did not let him finish his battle he would kill his mistress and everyone that strove to prevent him. The lady in the coach, and terrified at what she saw, ed the coachman to draw aside a little, and set herself to watch this severe struggle, in the course of which the Biscayan smote Don Quixote a mighty stroke on the shoulder over the top of his buckler, which, given to one without armour, would have cleft him to the waist. Don Quixote, feeling the weight of this prodigious blow, cried aloud, saying, O lady of my soul, Dulcinea, flower of beauty, come to the aid of this your knight, who, in fulfilling his s to your beauty, finds himself in this extreme peril. To say this, to t his sword, to shelter himself well behind his buckler, and to assail the Biscayan was the work of an , determined as he was to venture upon a single blow. The Biscayan, seeing him come on in this way, was convinced of his courage by his spirited bearing, and resolved to follow his example, so he waited for him keeping well under cover of his cushion, being unable to execute any sort of manoeuvre with his mule, which, dead tired and meant for this kind of game, could not stir a step. On, then, as aforesaid, came Don Quixote against the wary Biscayan, with uplifted sword and a firm intention of splitting him in half, while on his side the Biscayan waited for him sword in hand, and under the protection of his cushion; and present stood trembling, waiting in suspense the result of blows such as threatened to f, and the lady in the coach and the rest of her follog were making a thousand vows and erings to the images and shrines of Spain, that God might deliver her squire and of them from this peril in which they found themselves. But it spoils , that at this point and crisis the author of the history s this battle impending, giving as excuse that he could find nothing more written about these achievements of Don Quixote than what has been already set forth. It is true the second author of this work was unwilling to believe that a history so curious could have been owed to f under the sentence of oblivion, or that the wits of La Mancha could have been so undiscerning as not to preserve in their archives or registries some documents referring to this famous knight; and this being his persuasion, he did not despair of finding the conclusion of this pleasant history, which, heaven favouring him, he did find in a way that sh be related in the Second Part. In the First Part of this history we left the valiant Biscayan and the rened Don Quixote with drawn swords uplifted, ready to deliver two such furious slashing blows that if they had fen full and fair they would at least have split and cleft them asunder from top to toe and laid them like a pomegranate; and at this so criti point the delightful history came to a and stood cut short without any intimation from the author w what was missing was to be found. This distressed me ly, because the pleasure derived from having read such a sm portion turned to vexation at the thought of the poor that presented itself of finding the large part that, so it seemed to me, was missing of such an interesting tale. It appeared to me to be a thing impossible and contrary to precedent that so good a knight should have been without some sage to undertake the task of writing his marvellous achievements; a thing that was wanting to any of those knights-errant who, they say, went after adventures; for every one of them had one or two sages as if made on purpose, who not recorded their deeds but described their most trifling thoughts and follies, however secret they might be; and such a good knight could not have been so unfortunate as not to have what Platir and others like him had in abundance. And so I could not bring myself to believe that such a gant tale had been left maimed and mutilated, and I laid the blame on Time, the devourer and destroyer of things, that had either concealed or consumed it. On the other hand, it struck me that, inasmuch as among his books t had been found such modern ones as The Enlightenment of Jealousy and the Nymphs and Shepherds of Henares, his story must likewise be modern, and that though it might not be written, it might exist in the memory of the people of his village and of those in the neighbourhood. This reflection kept me perplexed and longing to k rey and truly the whole and drous deeds of our famous Spaniard, Don Quixote of La Mancha, light and mirror of Manchegan chivalry, and the first that in our age and in these so evil days devoted himself to the labour and exercise of the arms of knight-errantry, righting wrongs, succouring widows, and protecting damsels of that sort that used to ride about, whip in hand, on their palfreys, with their virginity about them, from mountain to mountain and vey to vey—for, if it were not for some ruffian, or boor with a hood and hatchet, or monstrous giant, that forced them, t were in days of yore damsels that at the end of eighty years, in which time they had slept a day under a roof, went to their graves as much maids as the mothers that bore them. I say, then, that in these and other respects our gant Don Quixote is worthy of everlasting and notable praise, nor should it be withheld even from me for the labour and pains spent in searching for the conclusion of this delightful history; though I k well that if Heaven, and good fortune had not helped me, the world would have remained deprived of an entertainment and pleasure that for a couple of hours or so may well occupy him who sh read it attentively. The discovery of it occurred in this way. One day, as I was in the Alcana of Toledo, a boy came up to sell some pamphlets and old papers to a silk mercer, and, as I am fond of reading even the very scraps of paper in the streets, led by this natural bent of mine I took up one of the pamphlets the boy had for , and saw that it was in charers which I recognised as Arabic, and as I was unable to read them though I could recognise them, I looked about to see if t were any Spanish-speaking Morisco at hand to read them for me; nor was t any difficulty in finding such an interpreter, for even had I sought one for an older and better language I should have found him. In short, provided me with one, who when I told him what I wanted and put the book into his hands, ed it in the middle and after reading a little in it began to laugh. I asked him what he was laughing at, and he replied that it was at something the book had written in the margin by way of a note. I bade him tell it to me; and he still laughing said, In the margin, as I told you, this is written: ‘This Dulcinea del Toboso so often mentioned in this history, had, they say, hand of any woman in La Mancha for salting pigs.’ When I heard Dulcinea del Toboso d, I was struck with surprise and amazement, for it occurred to me at once that these pamphlets contained the history of Don Quixote. With this idea I pressed him to read the beginning, and doing so, turning the Arabic hand into Castilian, he told me it meant, History of Don Quixote of La Mancha, written by Cid Hamete Benengeli, an Arab historian. It required caution to hide the joy I felt when the title of the book reached my ears, and snatching it from the silk mercer, I bought the papers and pamphlets from the boy for half a real; and if he had had his wits about him and had kn how eager I was for them, he might have safely calculated on making more than six reals by the . I withdrew at once with the Morisco into the cloister of the cathedral, and begged him to turn these pamphlets that related to Don Quixote into the Castilian tongue, without omitting or adding anything to them, ering him whatever payment he d. He was satisfied with two arrobas of raisins and two bushels of wheat, and d to translate them faithfully and with despatch; but to make the matter easier, and not to let such a precious find out of my hands, I took him to my house, w in little more than a month and a half he translated the whole just as it is set down . In the first pamphlet the battle between Don Quixote and the Biscayan was drawn to the very , they planted in the same attitude as the history describes, their swords raised, and the one protected by his buckler, the other by his cushion, and the Biscayan’s mule so true to nature that it could be seen to be a hired one a bowshot . The Biscayan had an inscription under his feet which said, Don Sancho de Azpeitia, which no doubt must have been his ; and at the feet of Rocinante was another that said, Don Quixote. Rocinante was marvellously portrayed, so long and thin, so lank and lean, with so much backbone and so far gone in consumption, that he showed plainly with what judgment and propriety the of Rocinante had been bestowed upon him. Near him was Sancho Panza holding the halter of his ass, at whose feet was another label that said, Sancho Zancas, and according to the picture, he must have had a big belly, a short body, and long shanks, for which reason, no doubt, the s of Panza and Zancas were given him, for by these two surs the history several times cs him. Some other trifling particulars might be mentioned, but they are of slight importance and have nothing to do with the true relation of the history; and no history can be bad so long as it is true. If against the present one any objection be raised on the of its truth, it can be that its author was an Arab, as lying is a very common prsity with those of that nation; though, as they are such enemies of ours, it is conceivable that t were omissions rather than additions made in the course of it. And this is my own opinion; for, w he could and should give dom to his pen in praise of so worthy a knight, he seems to me delibely to pass it over in silence; which is ill done and worse contrived, for it is the business and duty of historians to be ex, truthful, and wholly from passion, and neither interest nor fear, hatred nor love, should make them swerve from the path of truth, whose mother is history, rival of time, storehouse of deeds, witness for the past, example and counsel for the present, and warning for the future. In this I k will be found that can be desired in the pleasantest, and if it be wanting in any good quality, I maintain it is the fault of its hound of an author and not the fault of the subject. To be brief, its Second Part, according to the translation, began in this way: With trenchant swords upraised and poised on high, it seemed as though the two valiant and wrathful combatants stood threatening heaven, and earth, and hell, with such resolution and determination did they bear themselves. The fiery Biscayan was the first to strike a blow, which was delivered with such force and fury that had not the sword turned in its course, that single stroke would have sufficed to put an end to the bitter struggle and to the adventures of our knight; but that good fortune which reserved him for er things, turned aside the sword of his adversary, so that although it smote him upon the left shoulder, it did him no more harm than to strip that side of its armour, carrying away a part of his helmet with half of his ear, which with fearful ruin fell to the ground, leaving him in a sorry plight. Good God! Who is t that could properly describe the rage that filled the heart of our Manchegan when he saw himself t with in this fashion? that can be said is, it was such that he again raised himself in his stirrups, and, grasping his sword more firmly with both hands, he came down on the Biscayan with such fury, smiting him full over the cushion and over the head, that—even so good a shield proving useless—as if a mountain had fen on him, he began to bleed from nose, mouth, and ears, reeling as if about to f backwards from his mule, as no doubt he would have done had he not flung his arms about its neck; at the same time, however, he slipped his feet out of the stirrups and then unclasped his arms, and the mule, taking fright at the terrible blow, made across the plain, and with a few plunges flung its master to the ground. Don Quixote stood looking on very calmly, and, when he saw him f, leaped from his horse and with briskness ran to him, and, presenting the point of his sword to his eyes, bade him surrender, or he would cut his head . The Biscayan was so bewildered that he was unable to answer a word, and it would have gone hard with him, so blind was Don Quixote, had not the ladies in the coach, who had hitherto been watching the combat in terror, hastened to w he stood and implored him with earnest entreaties to grant them the grace and favour of sparing their squire’s ; to which Don Quixote replied with much gravity and dignity, In truth, fair ladies, I am well content to do what ye ask of me; but it must be on one condition and understanding, which is that this knight me to go to the village of El Toboso, and on my behalf present himself before the peerless lady Dulcinea, that she with him as sh be most pleasing to her. The terrified and disconsolate ladies, without discussing Don Quixote’s demand or asking who Dulcinea might be, d that their squire should do that had been commanded. Then, on the faith of that , said Don Quixote, I sh do him no further harm, though he well deserves it of me. by this time Sancho had risen, rather the worse for the handling of the friars’ muleteers, and stood watching the battle of his master, Don Quixote, and praying to God in his heart that it might be his will to grant him the victory, and that he might tby some island to make him governor of, as he had d. Seeing, tfore, that the struggle was over, and that his master was returning to mount Rocinante, he approached to hold the stirrup for him, and, before he could mount, he went on his knees before him, and taking his hand, kissed it saying, May it your worship, Señor Don Quixote, to give me the government of that island which has been in this hard fight, for be it ever so big I feel myself in sufficient force to be able to govern it as much and as well as anyone in the world who has ever governed islands. CNBC caught wind of this and asked Jeff to come on live TV to explain his secret. Jeff politely said no. And nоw, years later, Jeff is back to finally bringing this secret into the light. Revealing how anyone can соІІесt returns of 100%, 228%, and 373% gains in just 8 days… in bullish AND bearish markets! And why you should IGNORE 99.9% of the market, and instead focus on оnІу ONE stock. ([ticker revealed hеrе]( Jeff’s used this secret to help 79,000 regular folks see triple–digit gains over 59 times and double–digit gains over 332 times! Jeff Clark says: At this point they came in sight of thirty or forty dmills that t are on that plain, and as as Don Quixote saw them he said to his squire, Fortune is arranging matters for us better than we could have shaped our desires ourselves, for look t, Sancho Panza, w thirty or more monstrous giants present themselves, of whom I mean to engage in battle and slay, and with whose spoils we sh begin to make our fortunes; for this is righteous warfare, and it is God’s good service to sweep so evil a breed from the face of the earth. What giants? said Sancho Panza. Those thou seest t, answered his master, with the long arms, and some have them nearly two leagues long. Look, your worship, said Sancho; what we see t are not giants but dmills, and what seem to be their arms are the sails that turned by the d make the millstone go. It is easy to see, replied Don Quixote, that thou art not used to this business of adventures; those are giants; and if thou art afraid, away with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer while I engage them in fierce and unequal combat. So saying, he gave the spur to his steed Rocinante, heedless of the cries his squire Sancho sent after him, warning him that most certainly they were dmills and not giants he was going to attack. He, however, was so positive they were giants that he neither heard the cries of Sancho, nor perceived, near as he was, what they were, but made at them shouting, Fly not, cowards and vile beings, for a single knight attacks you. A slight breeze at this moment sprang up, and the sails began to move, seeing which Don Quixote exclaimed, Though ye flourish more arms than the giant Briareus, ye have to reckon with me. So saying, and commending himself with his heart to his lady Dulcinea, imploring her to support him in such a peril, with lance in rest and covered by his buckler, he charged at Rocinante’s fullest gop and fell upon the first mill that stood in front of him; but as he drove his lance-point into the sail the d whirled it round with such force that it shivered the lance to pieces, sweeping with it horse and rider, who went rolling over on the plain, in a sorry condition. Sancho hastened to his assistance as as his ass could go, and when he came up found him unable to move, with such a shock had Rocinante fen with him. God bless me! said Sancho, did I not tell your worship to mind what you were about, for they were dmills? and no one could have made any mistake about it but one who had something of the same kind in his head. Hush, Sancho, replied Don Quixote, the fortunes of war more than any other are liable to frequent fluctuations; and moreover I think, and it is the truth, that that same sage Friston who carried my study and books, has turned these giants into mills in to rob me of the glory of vanquishing them, such is the enmity he bears me; but in the end his wicked arts will avail but little against my good sword. God it as he may, said Sancho Panza, and helping him to rise got him up again on Rocinante, whose shoulder was half out; and then, discussing the late adventure, they followed the road to Puerto Lapice, for t, said Don Quixote, they could not fail to find adventures in abundance and variety, as it was a thoroughfare. For that, he was much grieved at the loss of his lance, and saying so to his squire, he added, I remember having read how a Spanish knight, Diego Perez de Vargas by , having broken his sword in battle, tore from an oak a ponderous bough or branch, and with it did such things that day, and pounded so many Moors, that he got the sur of Machuca, and he and his descendants from that day forth were ced Vargas y Machuca. I mention this because from the first oak I see I mean to rend such another branch, large and stout like that, with which I am determined and resolved to do such deeds that thou mayest deem thyself very fortunate in being found worthy to come and see them, and be an eyewitness of things that will with difficulty be believed. Be that as God will, said Sancho, I believe it as your worship says it; but straighten yourself a little, seem on one side, may be from the shaking of the f. That is the truth, said Don Quixote, and if I make no complaint of the pain it is because knights-errant are not permitted to complain of any wound, even though their bowels be coming out through it. If so, said Sancho, I have nothing to say; but God ks I would rather your worship complained when anything ailed you. For my part, I confess I must complain however sm the ache may be; unless this rule about not complaining extends to the squires of knights-errant also. Don Quixote could not help laughing at his squire’s simplicity, and he assured him he might complain whe and however he chose, just as he liked, for, so far, he had read of anything to the contrary in the of knighthood. Sancho bade him remember it was dinner-time, to which his master answered that he wanted nothing himself just then, but that he might eat when he had a mind. With this permission Sancho settled himself as comfortably as he could on his beast, and taking out of the alforjas what he had stowed away in them, he jogged along behind his master munching delibely, and from time to time taking a pull at the bota with a relish that the thirstiest tapster in Malaga might have envied; and while he went on in this way, gulping down draught after draught, he gave a thought to any of the s his master had made him, nor did he it as hardship but rather as recreation going in quest of adventures, however dangerous they might be. Finy they passed the night among some trees, from one of which Don Quixote plucked a dry branch to serve him after a fashion as a lance, and fixed on it the head he had removed from the broken one. that night Don Quixote lay awake thinking of his lady Dulcinea, in to con to what he had read in his books, how many a night in the forests and deserts knights used to lie sleepless supported by the memory of their mistresses. Not so did Sancho Panza spend it, for having his stomach full of something stronger than chicory water he made but one sleep of it, and, if his master had not ced him, neither the rays of the sun beating on his face nor the cheery notes of the birds welcoming the approach of day would have had power to waken him. On getting up he tried the bota and found it somewhat less full than the night before, which grieved his heart because they did not seem to be on the way to remedy the deficiency readily. Don Quixote did not care to break his , for, as has been already said, he confined himself to savoury recollections for nourishment. They returned to the road they had set out with, leading to Puerto Lapice, and at three in the afternoon they came in sight of it. , brother Sancho Panza, said Don Quixote when he saw it, we may plunge our hands up to the elbows in what they c adventures; but observe, even shouldst thou see me in the est danger in the world, thou must not put a hand to thy sword in my defence, unless indeed thou perceivest that those who assail me are rabble or base folk; for in that case thou mayest very properly aid me; but if they be knights it is on no account permitted or owed thee by the laws of knighthood to help me until thou hast been dubbed a knight. Most certainly, señor, replied Sancho, your worship sh be fully obeyed in this matter; the more as of myself I am peaceful and no to mixing in strife and quarrels: it is true that as regards the defence of my own person I sh not give much heed to those laws, for laws and divine ow each one to defend himself against any assailant whatever. That I grant, said Don Quixote, but in this matter of aiding me against knights thou must put a restraint upon thy natural impetuosity. I will do so, I , answered Sancho, and will keep this precept as carefully as Sunday. While they were thus talking t appeared on the road two friars of the of St. Benedict, mounted on two dromedaries, for not less t were the two mules they rode on. They wore travelling spectacles and carried sunshades; and behind them came a coach attended by four or five persons on horseback and two muleteers on foot. In the coach t was, as afterwards appeared, a Biscay lady on her way to Seville, w her husband was about to take passage for the Indies with an appointment of high honour. The friars, though going the same road, were not in her company; but the moment Don Quixote perceived them he said to his squire, Either I am mistaken, or this is going to be the most famous adventure that has ever been seen, for those black bodies we see t must be, and doubtless are, magicians who are carrying some stolen princess in that coach, and with my might I must undo this wrong. This will be worse than the dmills, said Sancho. Look, señor; those are friars of St. Benedict, and the coach plainly belongs to some travellers: I tell you to mind well what you are about and don’t let the devil mislead you. I have told thee already, Sancho, replied Don Quixote, that on the subject of adventures thou kest little. What I say is the truth, as thou shalt see . So saying, he advanced and posted himself in the middle of the road along which the friars were coming, and as as he thought they had come near enough to hear what he said, he cried aloud, Devilish and unnatural beings, release ly the highborn princesses whom you are carrying by force in this coach, else prepare to meet a speedy death as the just punishment of your evil deeds. The friars drew rein and stood dering at the appearance of Don Quixote as well as at his words, to which they replied, Señor Cabero, we are not devilish or unnatural, but two brothers of St. Benedict follog our road, nor do we k whether or not t are any captive princesses coming in this coach. No soft words with me, for I k you, lying rabble, said Don Quixote, and without waiting for a reply he spurred Rocinante and with levelled lance charged the first friar with such fury and determination, that, if the friar had not flung himself the mule, he would have brought him to the ground against his will, and sore wounded, if not killed outright. The second brother, seeing how his comrade was treated, drove his heels into his castle of a mule and made across the country er than the d. Sancho Panza, when he saw the friar on the ground, dismounting briskly from his ass, rushed towards him and began to strip his gown. At that the friars’ muleteers came up and asked what he was stripping him for. Sancho answered them that this fell to him lawfully as spoil of the battle which his lord Don Quixote had . The muleteers, who had no idea of a joke and did not understand this about battles and spoils, seeing that Don Quixote was some distance talking to the travellers in the coach, fell upon Sancho, knocked him down, and leaving hardly a hair in his beard, belaboured him with kicks and left him stretched breathless and senseless on the ground; and without any more delay helped the friar to mount, who, trembling, terrified, and pale, as as he found himself in the saddle, spurred after his companion, who was standing at a distance looking on, watching the result of the onslaught; then, not caring to wait for the end of the affair just begun, they pursued their journey making more crosses than if they had the devil after them. Don Quixote was, as has been said, speaking to the lady in the coach: Your beauty, lady mine, said he, may dispose of your person as may be most in accordance with your pleasure, for the pride of your ravishers lies prost on the ground through this strong arm of mine; and lest you should be pining to k the of your deliverer, k that I am ced Don Quixote of La Mancha, knight-errant and adventurer, and captive to the peerless and beautiful lady Dulcinea del Toboso: and in return for the service you have received of me I ask no more than that you should return to El Toboso, and on my behalf present yourself before that lady and tell her what I have done to set you . One of the squires in attendance upon the coach, a Biscayan, was listening to Don Quixote was saying, and, perceiving that he would not ow the coach to go on, but was saying it must return at once to El Toboso, he made at him, and seizing his lance addressed him in bad Castilian and worse Biscayan after his fashion, Begone, cabero, and ill go with thee; by the God that made me, unless thou quittest coach, slayest thee as art a Biscayan. Don Quixote understood him quite well, and answered him very quietly, If thou wert a knight, as thou art none, I should have already chastised thy folly and rashness, miserable creature. To which the Biscayan returned, I no gentleman!—I swear to God thou liest as I am Christian: if thou droppest lance and drawest sword, shalt thou see thou art carrying water to the cat: Biscayan on land, hidalgo at sea, hidalgo at the devil, and look, if thou sayest otherwise thou liest. ‘You will see , said Agrajes,’ replied Don Quixote; and throg his lance on the ground he drew his sword, braced his buckler on his arm, and attacked the Biscayan, bent upon taking his . “I am tired of watching as investors lоsе their shirts buying risky assets… even my OWN SON lost -60% in crypto & tech stocks… nоw I’m going to give him a [“FіnаnсіаІ Intervention”]( to help him wіn his account back in 2023!”) [СІісk Неrе to Watch Jeff Demonstrate This “ONE Stock Secret”]( [Small logotype (EMA)]( ExpertModernAdvice.com is sending this newsletter on behalf Inception Media, LLC. Inception Media, LLC appreciates your comments and inquiries. 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