These potentates are seated on thrones near Hildebrand, to witness the spectacle. But Udolpho, Duke of Milan, is among the combatants, mounted on a powerful charger, in armor blazing with gold: he looks like the flower of chivalry. He wears the colors of the Princess Clotilda, scarlet and green; and having ridden to the end of the lists, and made a lowly obeisance to his fair lady, he has returned to his place among the competitors for honor. Others there are who wear the same colors, but none to compare with him in rank and knightly bearing; and as the Princess gazed upon him, she wished him success. But what cavalier is this, with closed vizor, whose head towers above the rest like the cedar of Lebanon above all the trees of the forest? A kingly majesty marks every motion, and notwithstanding the unusual plainness of his accoutrements, all eyes are turned upon him with interest and curiosity. He is clad in brightly-shining steel, and no heraldic emblems show his rank. His Moorish page bears before him his shield, upon the black ground of which one blooming rose, and the motto Quero, "I seek," form the only device. He is an utter stranger to all: yet both Emperor and Princess command the herald to discover who he is. That he is illustrious, none can doubt. A blue ribbon, worn upon his arm, shows that he has not enlisted himself among the admirers of the Lady Clotilda: in whose honor can he wear it?
When the heralds have taken the oath of the combatants that they will in all respects obey the laws of chivalry in the approaching conflict, the names and titles of those who were about to engage in it were called aloud, with the sound of the trumpet. When the unknown knight was courteously requested to announce his name, he gave that of "The Knight of the Blooming Rose." The mystery as to who he could be increased the interest felt in him; and as one after another of the cavaliers was unhorsed by his firm and skilful arm and rolled in the dust, the excitement became intense. The Grand Duke Udolpho had also greatly distinguished himself, and it was soon very evident that the victory would lie between these two. Clotilda's sympathies were enlisted on the side of Udolpho: Edith's, for the Knight of the Blooming Rose, whose success she watched with breathless interest. The contest was not long undetermined: the shouts of the populace, and the waving of scarfs and handkerchiefs by fair hands, soon proclaimed the unknown cavalier to be the victor.
Escorted by the heralds he approached the Emperor, who, after pronouncing a eulogy upon his bravery and skill, threw round his neck a costly chain, and placed in his hand the wreath to be worn by the Queen of Love and Beauty, whose duty it should be to preside over the games during the remainder of the week, and to distribute prizes to the winners. It was his envied privilege to confer this dignity upon the lady who was fairest in his eyes. As he rode round the barriers, gazing at the numberless lovely faces assembled there, many a heart thrilled with emotion; and as he passed the Princess Clotilda, surprise, mortification, and resentment could only too plainly be traced upon her countenance. Never before had she been so slighted. But when the knight stopped before the Lady Edith, and kneeling down, besought her to confer dignity upon the office of Queen of Love and Beauty by filling it, the young girl's astonishment was great, as she had not for a moment thought of herself as a candidate for the honor. Quickly recovering herself, however, with the native courtesy of the high-born lady, agreeably to the manners of the day, she raised the cavalier, and taking off her blue sash, fastened it round his waist with her own hands, begging him to wear it as her knight, and ever to prove himself faithful and brave.
Thus ended the first day's tournament. Meanwhile, the burghers and yeomanry joined in the general festivity, having wrestling-matches, quoits and bowls, and various other rural games. A purse of gold was conferred upon the victors, and barrels of beer were continually running for the benefit of the public. The noble guests were invited to a banquet at the palace, which was to be repeated daily during the continuance of the games. The Knight of the Blooming Rose was, of course, a prominent person in these gay assemblies, and his noble person and courtly bearing greatly excited the admiration of the ladies of Clotilda's circle. But while courteous to all, his marked deference to the gentle Edith plainly showed that he was faithful to his allegiance. It was a new experience to the timid girl to be thus singled out in preference to the more brilliant beauties around her; and while it raised her in the estimation of others, it gave a decision and self-possession to her character in which it was previously deficient. And the intimate intercourse which she thus enjoyed with a kindred mind of high cultivation, earnest thought, and large acquaintance with mankind, gave a stimulus to her mental powers which only human sympathy can impart. The Emperor himself was greatly pleased with the gallant knight, and frequently honored him with confidential conversation. And yet no one could discover who he was. Free and unreserved in his communications with those around him, when this subject was approached, his lips were sealed in silence, and a certain dignity of manner warned off all intrusion. Efforts were made to arrive at the truth through the medium of his page; but the noble-looking Moor was a mute, and would only hold intercourse with those around him by gestures and expressive looks.
In the succeeding days of the tournament, various games of knightly skill and prowess engaged the attention of the competitors for honors, and in all of them did our cavalier come off victorious. In the use of the bow he was unrivalled, ever piercing the centre of the target, and bringing down the bird upon the wing. Udolpho of Milan was the second in distinction, and the two were united by a generous friendship. The last day was a trial of minstrelsy. In this, also, the Knight of the Blooming Rose bore the palm away from all his rivals, both professional and amateur. Accompanying himself upon the harp, he sang spirit-stirring lays which awakened the enthusiasm of all his auditors.
In the evening, the Emperor requested him to give the meaning of his motto, and of the emblem on his shield. Taking the harp, and striking up a bold and brilliant prelude which gradually arranged itself into a simple air of great beauty, he sang as follows:
"Not wealth nor trappings proud,
Nor shouts of envying crowd,
That swell both long and loud,
'I seek.'