While the Cardinal of Perigord was riding from one camp to another, vainly endeavouring to make peace, the knights on neither side were wholly idle. Many, both from the French and English ranks, availed themselves of the truce which had been agreed to, and rode forth, skirting their enemy's army, and examining the dispositions.
Sir John Chandos was one of the English knights who mounted and left the army of the Prince of Wales to inspect the host of John of Valois; and it was my fortune to accompany that famous warrior. Now it chanced that, while Sir John Chandos rode near one of the wings of the French army, John, Lord of Clermont, one of the French marshals, was out on horseback viewing the English; and both of them had the same device on their surcoats—namely, a blue Madonna worked in embroidery, surrounded by sunbeams. Meeting as they were returning to their quarters, both stood still, and each gazed on the other in some surprise. For a time there was silence; but at length the Lord of Clermont recovered sufficiently from his surprise to speak, and to speak much more boldly and loudly than I thought consistent with chivalrous dignity, under the circumstances.
"Chandos!" shouted the French marshal, dismounting, and looking fierce and menacing, "how long is it since you have taken upon you to wear my arms?"
"In truth," replied Sir John, also dismounting, not without contempt in his tone, "I might as lief ask that of you; for it is as much mine as yours."
"I deny that," cried Clermont angrily; "and were it not for the truce between us, I would soon show you that you have no right to wear it."
"Ha!" exclaimed Chandos, making a great effort to keep his temper, "you will find me to-morrow on the field, ready prepared to defend, and to prove by force of arms, that it is as much mine as yours."
"By our Lady!" said Clermont, preparing to mount, "such are the boastings of you English, who can invent nothing new, but take for your own whatever you see handsome belonging to others."
"On my faith!" exclaimed Chandos, whose temper was giving way, "these are biting taunts; but I answer such language, not with words, but blows!" and, as he spoke, both parties moved on to their respective camps.
Now I had listened to the whole colloquy with something like amazement, that two men so eminent should indulge in such high words on such a subject. I, who was supposed to have no arms, daily saw the arms which I believed myself entitled to bear carried by another; and I, who had no name, save that which I had won while wrestling for the ram on the green at Windsor, daily heard the name which I felt certain was mine by right applied to a person whom I had every reason to dislike and distrust. It was impossible, under such circumstances, to sympathise very strongly with Sir John Chandos in the indignation he felt at another man questioning his right to bear a blue Madonna; but I appreciated his great qualities, and, feeling sincerely shocked at the Lord of Clermont's manner, I had no hesitation in expressing myself strongly.
"Beshrew me," exclaimed I with indignation, "if I could imagine aught more insolent than that French knight's challenge."