He turned his horses to the right where I lay.

He drove over his brother as he would over straw and apple-parings in the dust; and his wheel broke my thigh.

Who knows what else it crushed in me?
One thing is certain--from that date the most painful of my sufferings originated.
And he, the mean scoundrel, had done it intentionally.

He had sharp eyes.

He knew how to guide his steeds.