"My lady, why would you want to ride through the city in this terrible weather? If it starts to rain again you'll get drenched."
Tirant saw through the infanta's wiles, and he tugged at Philippe's coattails to make him be quiet. The infanta caught a glimpse of the signal Tirant was making, and she became very angry. She ordered the horses brought out, and they all sent for the animals. When the infanta was mounted she almost turned her back on Philippe, but kept sight of him out of the corner of her eye. And Philippe said to Tirant:
"Send for another suit of clothes so that this one won't be ruined!"
"Oh," said Tirant, "the clothes be damned! Don't worry about your clothing. If this suit gets dirty, there will be another one."
"At least," said Philippe, "see if there aren't two pages who will carry my coattails so they won't drag along the ground."
"For the son of a king," said Tirant, "you're very stingy! Hurry along now, the infanta is waiting."
Then Philippe, very troubled, started out. While the infanta, who had been watching them talk, wasn't able to make out their words.
So they rode through the city, and the infanta enjoyed herself immensely, seeing how the clothes of that miserly Philippe were getting wet, and how he was always looking at them. The infanta, to have more pleasure, told them to bring the falcons and they would go a little way out to the outskirts and hunt some quail.
"Don't you see, my lady?" said Philippe. "This is no time for hunting. There's nothing but mud and water everywhere."
"Oh, you niggardly fellow!" said the infanta. "This oaf still won't do anything that I want.'