"Don't lay the blame of your falling back on your horse, as it is the fault of your own cowardly heart," replied Don Rodrigo's squire. "There is no chance of your scarifying very seriously the flanks of your charger whenever you shall be required to rush on the enemy."
"Comrade, I say of myself what you said of Overo a short time before you sallied forth from Burgos to proceed to Compostela, 'everyone is just as God made him, and faults should not be punished which one brings from the womb of his mother.' But won't you recount to us what happened to you yesterday?"
"I shall do so at once. Don Rodrigo, Guillen, and I were fighting, with more than usual fury, against five Moorish cavaliers, who formed an impenetrable wall before us. At last we succeeded in breaking through them and throwing them into disorder. Don Rodrigo rushed in pursuit of three of them who had fled, and who appeared to be men of rank, whilst Guillen and I remained fighting with the others, who, to give them their due, were much braver than their companions, as they did not seek safety in flight. He who was fighting with me gave so fierce a lance thrust that, striking the pommel of the saddle, the shock threw down Overo, and I found myself on the ground, incapable of defending myself. The Moor was already aiming his lance at me, to fix me to the earth, when Guillen, who saw what was going on, rushed to my aid, overthrew the Moor, my antagonist, with his lance, and returning to him whom he had just left, and who was taking to flight, he pierced him through the breast. Now you see that, were it not for that brave youth, the weakness of my horse would have cost me my life."
"Oh, what triumphs you achieve with that high-spirited Overo!" said Alvar, laughing, which made Fernan very angry.
"By the soul of Beelzebub, if you laugh at my mishaps, it will cost you dear, Alvar. As to my horse, I swear that if he ever again treats me so, he shall atone for his fault where he commits it, by being left there as the prey of wild beasts."
"You always say that, Fernan; if I were your horse I would laugh at your threats."
"You will see if he laughs the next time he acts in such a manner."
Just as Fernan thus spoke, a bull ran from a herd which was grazing in a field beside the road, and rushed on the pages and squires with a fury such as is seldom seen. All were trying to get out of his way, surprised by such a sudden attack, except Fernan, who, pulling at the reins of Overo, and preparing his lance, exclaimed—
"Cowards! Do you fly from this miserable beast? You will see, I vow to Judas Iscariot, that my lance shall soon bring down his pride."
And thus speaking, he directed his steed in the direction of the bull.