It was seen at a glance that Sir Foulke d'Oilly was by far the stronger-built and heavier man. He was exceedingly broad-shouldered, and the great volume of his humeral muscles gave him the appearance of being round-backed; but he was deep-chested, and long-armed; and, though his hips were thick and heavy, and his legs slightly bowed—perhaps in consequence of his almost living on horseback—it was evident that he was a man of gigantic strength, impaired neither by excess nor age, for he did not seem to be more than in his fortieth year.
Sir Aradas de Ratcliffe, on the contrary, was nearly three inches taller than his opponent, and proportionately longer in the reach; but altogether he was built more on the model of an Antinous than a Hercules. If he were not very broad in the shoulders, he was singularly deep and round in the chest, and remarkable for the arched hollow of his back and the thinness of his flanks. His arms and legs were irreproachable, and, all in all, he trod the firm earth with
"A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill."
But it was from the features of the two men that most took their auspices, and that the friends of Aradas drew confident augury of his triumph.
The face of Sir Foulke d'Oilly was flaccid and colorless, with huge over-lapping brows shading his small keen eyes with a pent-house of grizzly bristles, large pendant cheeks, a sinister hooked nose, and a mouth indicative of lust, cruelty, and iron firmness—altogether, a sordid vulturine type of man.
The features of Aradas, on the contrary, were clean, clear, fleshless, and finely marked; a broad, smooth forehead, straight-cut black eyebrows, well-opened hazel eyes, with a tawny flash when excited, like to that of a lion or an eagle, a nose slightly aquiline, and a mouth not less benevolent than resolute. No one could look at him and his opponent, without thinking instinctively of the gallant heaven-aspiring falcon matched with the earthly, carrion vulture.
Nor was there less meaning or omen in the tone of their voices, as they swore.
Men paused to listen breathlessly; for among the lower classes on the field there were heavy bets pending on the issue, and the critical judges of those days believed that there was much in the voice of a man.
As each entered the lists, he was met by a friar, who encountered him with the question, "Brother, hast thou confessed thy sins this morning?"
To this, d'Oilly muttered a reply, inaudible to the questioner; but Aradas made answer, in a voice that rang like a silver bell, "I have confessed my sins, father, and, thanks to the Lord Jesus, have received absolution and the most holy sacrament of his body."