Get back, Milo, and leave me,' he said curtly, struck in the spurs, and galloped away over the grey down.
The cavalcade halted at Thouars, and lay the night in a convent of the Order of Savigny.

King Richard kept himself to himself, ate little, spoke less.

He prayed out the night, or most of it, kneeling in his shirt in the sanctuary, with his bare sword held before him like a cross.

Next morning he called up his household by the first cock, had them out on the road before the sun, and pushed forward with such haste that it was one hour short of noon when they saw the great church of the nuns of Fontevrault like a pile of dim rock in their way.
At a mile's distance from the walls the King got off his horse, and bid his squires strip him.

He ungirt his sword, took off helm and circlet, cloak, blazoned surcoat, the girdle of his county.