"I vow by Judas Iscariot," said Fernan to some squires, on hearing Rodrigo praise Babieca, "that my master must have taken lessons from Beelzebub himself, to judge by the knowledge he has of everything. It seemed to me that it was an ass and not a horse that he selected in the stables of Don Peyre; but he took it into his head that he was a good one, and, as it has turned out, knight or squire never bestrode a better. Now look at mine, which looks as if he were fit for an emperor, and with all that he nearly left me in the clutches of four Moors, as big as four Goliaths."
"Tell us all about it," said one of the squires, "for I have an idea myself of what would likely happen you when you followed into the ravine those who fled from the main body of the army."
"I shall do so in a few words. I spurred on my horse after four Moors, as tall as towers, and I continued the pursuit for a considerable distance; I was nearly touching them with my lance, when, just about jumping over a wide ditch, my horse stopped; I spurred him violently, and he sprang forward, but not far enough, and he went down into the ditch. The Moors saw my mishap, and turned on me, crying out, 'You shall die there, Christian dog!' They had already raised their powerful scimitars over my head, when Overo,[1] ashamed, I suppose of his conduct, made an effort, raised himself, and got out of the ditch. 'It is ye that shall die,' I cried in my turn; 'I vow it by the bones of Mahomet!' And closing with the Moors, will ye, nill ye, two of them were transfixed by my lance, and the others fled, without waiting to help their companions."
"And you complain of your horse?"
"I find fault with him for good cause; and I would have thrown him over a precipice, only that in the end he retrieved his character; but if he ever acts in that way again, I swear by the soul of Beelzebub that he shall not do so a third time. I am always unfortunate with regard to horses."
"But you are very fortunate with regard to women, though it is not quite the same thing," said Alvar; and he added with a malicious smile, "If I only had such a sweetheart as Mayorica, I would be satisfied with a bad ass."
Fernan heaved a deep sigh, drawn from him by the remembrance of Mayorica, and also perhaps by that of Beatrice and that of Aldonza.
"It is some time now since I saw scratches on your face, Fernan," said a squire. "I suppose you have been faithful to Mayorica?"
"I have been always so," replied Fernan, with much seriousness, which caused his comrades to laugh maliciously.
"Aldonza would be able to testify to it; is not that so?" retorted the inquisitive squire.