As soon as he could he disengaged himself from the stirrups, and throwing down his useless lance beside the dead horse, Don Teobaldo unsheathed his sword, victorious in a hundred fights, in order to pursue to the very end that hare which had stopped very tranquilly on a rock from which it made fun of the knight at its ease.
This raised the hunter's indignation to its highest, and in a moment of anger he exclaimed:
"I would give a year of my life to run my sword through you."
The hare, on hearing this, gave a jump and fell at Don Teobaldo's feet, who cut it into two pieces. The spitted hare said to him before dying: "It will cost you a year of your life; don't forget it."
The man shuddered and would have liked to undo the mischief, but now it was too late.
"And to think that such a little beast should make me lose three hundred and sixty-five days of my life!" he cried. And, full of rage, he trampled on the hare until he was quite tired.
But on raising his eyes once more he saw another exactly the same as that he had killed, and which made the same gestures as the first.
Then he could not any longer contain himself, and started to run after the second hare, entangling his spurs in the under-growth and stumbling and falling at every step.
Like one who took no interest the hare went slowly to its lair, and after it our enraged Don Teobaldo, resolved to make a terrible hash of the jesting animal.
"This seems to be a thing of the devil," he said. "All the hares have agreed to make fun of me."