On the winding dirt road, two riders were galloping, kicking up a trail of dust behind them.
The rider in the rear suddenly slowed down, and the rider in the front sensed something was wrong and also reined in his horse.
The lagging rider dismounted and, walking with an unnatural waddle, led his horse to catch up with the front rider: "Ow, my lord, I truly can't ride anymore, let's rest for a while. My backside feels as if it's been speared by a red-hot iron rod; the flesh on my inner thighs is nearly rubbed raw."
"You lazybones, where do you think you can rest in this wilderness?" the rider in front scolded his personal servant: "Stop dragging your feet; when we get back to the manor, you can rest all you want. Mount up, we must get home before dark."
