“Slay him—slay him with this sword dyed in the blood of our enemies,” rejoined De Foix. “It is he who has brought this dire calamity on France. But for him this disastrous battle would not have been fought. If I can slay him, I shall die content. Where is he, sire? Show him to me.”
“Ride from the battle while you can, and seek a surgeon—'twere best,” said the king.
“No, I will first slay Bonnivet,” rejoined De Foix.
“Then seek him yonder,” said the king, pointing to the thickest part of the strife.
And while De Foix rode off, he himself renewed the combat. Scarcely knowing whither he was going, De Foix was quickly surrounded by several Burgundian lances, when he found himself confronted by a knight in black armour.
“Yield you, De Foix?” said this knight. And, raising his visor, he disclosed the features of Bourbon.
“I yield,” replied the other. “But you had better let your men finish me. There is not an hour's life in me.”
“Nay, I trust you are not so badly hurt as that,” said Bourbon. “Let him be taken at once to Pavia and carefully tended. Captain Castaldo, I give him in your charge.”
“Bourbon,” said De Foix, “I will forgive you all the wrong you have done to France, if you will slay Bonnivet.”
“'Tis he I seek,” rejoined Bourbon. “Is he with the king?”