Oh, oh, that was serious!" The vicious stallion had reared for the third time, pawing wildly with his fore-legs, and in so doing struck one of the Moors.
Shrieking and wailing, the latter fell on the ground, and directly after the animal released itself from the second groom, and now dashed freely, with mighty leaps, around the course, rushing hither and thither as if mad, kicking furiously, and hurling sand and dust into the faces of the ladies on the dais.

The latter shrieked loudly, and their screams increased the animal's furious excitement.

Several gentlemen drew back, and the master of the horse loudly ordered the other barebacked steeds to be led away.
Don Juan and Alexander Farnese stood still; but the former drew his sword, exclaiming, vehemently: "Santiago! I'll kill the brute!" He was not satisfied with words, but instantly rushed upon the stallion; the latter avoiding him, bounded now backward, now sideways, at every fresh leap throwing sand upon the dais.
Ulrich could remain on the ladder no longer.
Fully aware of his power over refractory horses, he boldly entered the ring and walked quietly towards the snorting, foaming steed.

Driving the animal back, and following him, he watched his opportunity, and as Satan turned, reached his side and boldly seized his nostrils firmly with his hand.
Satan plunged more and more furiously, but the smith's son held him as firmly as if in a vise, breathed into his nostrils, and stroked his head and muzzle, whispering soothing words.
The animal gradually became quieter, tried once more to release himself from his tamer's iron hand, and when he again failed, began to tremble and meekly stood still with his fore legs stretched far apart.
"Bravo! Bravamente!" cried the duchess, and praise from such lips intoxicated Ulrich.

The impulse to make a display, inherited from his mother, urged him to take still greater risks.