That day, they had scarcely defended themselves against
the Moors.
In a loud voice that the Moors and the wounded could hear, he
cried out:
"Oh, poor men! Why do you bear arms? Oh, sad, vile men: you
will be rightly condemned for this day on which you die so
miserably, and your reputation will suffer greatly!"
When the King of Africa heard him crying this way, he called out
to his men:
"I'm going to cross the river, and I'll put this Christian dog in
chains or I'll kill him. If I need any assistance, come and help
me."
When the king had crossed over, he rode swiftly at Tirant, and
struck him so hard with his lance that Tirant's horse sank to its
knees. The lance passed through his brassard and his
breast-plate, and slightly pierced his chest. Tirant was feeling
such great pain for the dead men, and was thinking of the
princess, and he didn't notice the king until he had been
wounded. He drew his sword, since his lance had been broken at
the outset. And they fought for a long space of time.
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