Then across the hound I had my chance, and I ran in with levelled spear.
There was a shout, and some one gripped my arm and swung me aside with force enough to fling me to the ground.

As I fell, the broad, flashing blade of a spear passed me, and then in a medley, as it were, I saw the boar charge over the hound and across my legs, and I heard a wild stamping and the scream of a wounded horse.
I leaped to my feet, dumb with anger, and saw the end of that.
Gymbert's steed was rearing, and one of the foresters was trying to catch his bridle, while the boar was away down the glade with the unwounded hounds after him, and a broken spear in his flank.

And then my three comrades broke into loud blame of Gymbert, in nowise seeking to use soft words to him.
Then I saw that the flank of the horse was gashed as with a sword cut, and that the face of the rider was more white and terrified than should have been by reason of such a mishap.

The horse dragged its bridle from the hand of the forester, and reared again, and then fell heavily backward, almost crushing Gymbert.

However, he had foreseen it, and was off and rolling away from it as it reached the ground.