Having expressed himself thus confidently, he reined his
horse backward down the slope which he had ascended and
compelled him in the same manner to move backward
through the lists till he reached the northern extremity,
where he remained stationary in expectation of his antagonist. 5
This feat of horsemanship again attracted the applause
of the multitude.
However incensed at his adversary for the precautions
which he recommended, Brian de Bois-Guilbert did not
neglect his advice; for his honor was too nearly concerned 10
to permit his neglecting any means which might insure
victory over his presumptuous opponent. He changed
his horse for a proved and fresh one of great strength and
spirit. He chose a new and tough spear, lest the wood of
the former might have been strained in the previous encounters 15
he had sustained. Lastly, he laid aside his shield,
which had received some little damage, and received another
from his squires. His first had only borne the general
device of his order, representing two knights riding upon one
horse, an emblem expressive of the original humility and 20
poverty of the Templars, qualities which they had since
exchanged for the arrogance and wealth that finally occasioned
their suppression. Bois-Guilbert's new shield bore
a raven in full flight, holding in its claws a skull, and bearing
the motto Gare le Corbeau. 25
When the two champions stood opposed to each other
at the two extremities of the lists, the public expectation
was strained to the highest pitch. Few augured the possibility
that the encounter could terminate well for the
Disinherited Knight, yet his courage and gallantry secured 30
the general good wishes of the spectators.
The trumpets had no sooner given the signal than the
champions vanished from their posts with the speed of
lightning and closed in the center of the lists with the
shock of a thunderbolt. The lances burst into shivers up
to the very grasp and it seemed at the moment that both
knights had fallen, for the shock had made each horse recoil 5
backwards upon its haunches. The address of the riders
recovered their steeds by use of the bridle and spur; and
having glared on each other for an instant with eyes which
seemed to flash fire through the bars of their visors, each
made a demivolt, and retiring to the extremity of the 10
lists, received a fresh lance from the attendants.
A loud shout from the spectators, waving of scarfs and
handkerchiefs, and general acclamations, attested the interest
taken by the spectators in this encounter; the most equal,
as well as the best performed, which had graced the day. 15
But no sooner had the knights resumed their station
than the clamor of applause was hushed into a silence so
deep and so dead that it seemed the multitude were afraid
even to breathe.
A few minutes' pause having been allowed, that the 20
combatants and their horses might recover breath, Prince
John with his truncheon signed to the trumpets to sound
the onset. The champions a second time sprung from their
stations and closed in the center of the lists, with the same
speed, the same dexterity, the same violence, but not the25
same equal fortune as before.
In this second encounter, the Templar aimed at the center
of his antagonist's shield and struck it so fair and forcibly
that his spear went to shivers, and the Disinherited Knight
reeled in his saddle. On the other hand, that champion 30
had, in the beginning of his career, directed the point of his
lance toward Bois-Guilbert's shield, but changing his aim
almost in the moment of encounter, he addressed it to the
helmet, a mark more difficult to hit, but which, if attained,
rendered the shock more irresistible. Fair and true, he
hit the Norman on the visor, where his lance's point kept
hold of the bars. 5
Yet, even at this disadvantage, the Templar sustained
his high reputation; and had not the girths of his saddle
burst, he might not have been unhorsed. As it chanced,
however, saddle, horse, and man rolled on the ground under
a cloud of dust. 10
To extricate himself from the stirrups and fallen steed
was to the Templar scarce the work of a moment; and,
stung with madness, both at his disgrace and at the acclamations
with which it was hailed by the spectators, he
drew his sword and waved it in defiance of his conqueror.15
The Disinherited Knight sprang from his steed and also
unsheathed his sword. The marshals of the field, however,
spurred their horses between them and reminded them
that the laws of the tournament did not, on the present
occasion, permit this species of encounter. 20
"We shall meet again, I trust," said the Templar,
casting a resentful glance at his antagonist; "and where
there are none to separate us."