“Nay, nay,” quoth John, “seek no respite: I have offered, and continue to offer, so many things so honourable, that you cannot depart and preserve your good name, without doing deeds of arms with me.”
The Frenchmen then retired to the castle, leaving the Englishmen to dine in their lodging.
After dinner the travelling knights repaired to the castle, to require from the Constable a troop of cavaliers to conduct them through Brittany and Normandy to Cherbourg. The subject of the challenge had been much discussed by the Frenchmen, and as the execution of it appeared to be within their own power, they earnestly requested their leader to forbid the further journey of the Englishmen, while the deed of arms remained unaccomplished. The Constable received the strangers sweetly, and then, softening the harshness of his words by the chivalric courtesy of his manner, he said to them, “Sirs, I arrest you all, so that ye shall not depart this day; and to-morrow, after mass, you shall see deeds of arms done between our squire and yours; and you shall dine with me, and after dinner you shall depart with your guides to Cherbourg.”
The English were right glad to be summoned to a chivalric sport, and, after drinking of the Constable’s wine, they took their leave, and returned to their lodging.
On the next morning each squire heard mass, and was confessed. They then leapt on their horses, and, with the lords of France on one part, and the Englishmen on the other, they rode all together to a fair plain, near the castle of Josselyn.
John Boucmell had prepared, according to his promise, two suits of harness, fair and good, and offered the choice to Nicholas; but the Englishman not only waved his choice, but, with still further courtesy, assisted John to arm. The Frenchman, in return, helped him to don the other suit of harness.
When they were armed they took their spears, and advanced against each other on foot, from the opposite ends of the lists. On approaching they couched their spears, and the weapon of Nicholas struck John on the breast, and, sliding under the gorget of mail, it entered his throat. The spear broke, and the iron truncheon remained in the neck. The English squire passed onwards, and sat down in his chair. The Frenchman appeared transfixed to the spot, and his companions advanced to him in alarm. They took off his helmet, and, drawing out the truncheon, the poor squire fell down dead. Grief at this event was general, but the saddest and sincerest mourners were Nicholas and the Earl of March, the former for having slain a valiant man of arms, and the other because John Boucmell had been his squire. The Constable spoke all the words of comfort to his noble friend which his kindness could prompt, and then made the knightly spectators repair to the castle, in whose hospitable hall every disposition to jealousy and revenge was discarded. After dinner the English troop bade farewell to the noble Constable, and, under the conduct of the gentle knight, the Barrois of Barres, they resumed their course to Cherbourg.[328]
Jousts of peace.
I come now to describe the joust à plaisance. Jousts of this friendly description often took place at the conclusion of a tournament; for a knight who had shown himself worthy of the tourneying prize caracoled his prancing steed about the lists; and, animated by the applauding smiles of dames and damsels, he called on the surrounding cavaliers by their valiancy, and for love of the ladies, to encounter him in three strokes with the lance.
Skill of jousters.