Beatrix of Clare

He fell to searching for a stone—a small one with an edge that could reach in and rasp the deer-hide cord apart—but vainly; though he tried many, only to leave his arm torn and bleeding. Yet at last the sun had moved—it was up among the thinner branches. De Lacy bethought himself of his cloak, and hurrying to where it lay he tried to fling it around his shoulders, but with only one hand and his haste he managed badly and it slipped off and fell to the ground. As he seized it again the horse halted behind him.