'No, Sire.'
'Is he thrown to the ground?'
'No, Sire, not so; but he is very hard pressed.'
'Then,' said the king, 'go back to those that sent you, and tell them that he shall have no help from me. Let the boy win his spurs; for I wish, if God so order it, that the day may be his.'
The messenger carried back these words to the prince, who fought harder than ever, and drove off his assailants.
For hours the battle raged, both sides fighting with great fury and determination. On the French side was the old blind King of Bohemia, who remained somewhat apart, mounted upon his warhorse, listening to the din and noise of the battle in which his son was engaged.
After some time he heard a French knight approaching, and asked him how the fight was going.
'The Genoese have been routed,' was the reply; 'and your son is wounded.'
Then the king called to him two of his vassals and said to them, 'Lords, you are my vassals, my friends, and my companions; I pray you of your goodness to lead me so far into the fight that I may at least strike one blow with my sword.'
Then the two knights drew up, one on each side of their aged king; and all three fastened their bridle-reins together and rode into the fray.