passing. But, like a lion in his rage, Bayard rushed at them with so
furious an onset that two or three of the foremost men were driven back and
hurled into the water, from whence they rose no more, for the river was
wide and deep. For a moment they were driven back, but seeing there was
only one knight they attacked him so furiously that it was a marvel he
could resist them. But he came to a stand against the barrier of the bridge
that they might not get behind him, and made so desperate a fight with his
sword, raining blows on all who came near, that he seemed to the Spaniards
more a demon than a man.

In vain they cast pikes, lances, and other arms against him; the Good
Knight seemed to bear a charmed life. In fact, so well and so long did he
defend himself that his foes began to feel a superstitious dread of this
invincible champion when, after the space of full half an hour, his friend,
le Basco, arrived with a hundred men-at-arms.

The historian Champier adds that when Bayard saw help approaching he
cried, with a loud voice, "Haste ye, noble Frenchmen, and come to my help."
Not satisfied with driving back the Spaniards from the bridge, the gallant
little company pursued them for a good mile, and would have done more but
they saw in the distance a great company of seven or eight hundred Spanish
horsemen.

With all his dauntless courage, Bayard had the instinct of a good general,
and he said to his companions: "Gentlemen, we have done enough to-day in
saving the bridge; let us now retire in as close order as possible." His
advice was taken, and they began to retreat at a good pace, the Good Knight
always remaining the last and bearing all the brunt of the rear attack.
This became more difficult every minute, as his horse, on which he had
fought all that day, was so worn out that it could scarcely stand.