"And I do perceive that thy lance is three spans shorter than that of thine adversary," exclaimed a third.
"Fair sirs, I thank ye," replied Sir Oliver. "But concerning the harness 'tis not meet that I should place a true knight's suit of mail in jeopardy. This mail will suffice, since already it is accustoming itself to my limbs. Also the offer of a lance I beg to decline. Methinks an English heart behind this lance will atone for its shortness when opposed to a recreant knight who hath not the courage to openly declare either for Burgundy or Orleans."
Sir Denis winced within his shell of proof mail. If the steel of the English knight were as sharp as his tongue, his own task would not be quite so easy as it had seemed. As for Sir Yves, he was grinding his teeth with rage and discomfiture.
"Nevertheless," continued Sir Oliver, "I will deem it an honour to accept the loan of a suitable charger from a true and gallant knight of France."
"Nay, that shall not be," objected the Tyrant. "Either the charger provided or none."
"Charger, forsooth!" exclaimed Sir Conyers de Saye scornfully. "Art blind, Sir Yves, that thou canst not tell good horseflesh from bad, or is it a case of oculos habent et non videbunt? Either Sir Oliver hath leave to accept the loan of a serviceable charger or I'll shake off the dust of this place."
"And I," "And I," shouted the other knightly guests, who, in order to prove the sincerity of their intentions, began to call upon their squires and pages to follow them from the castle.
"Let him have the horse, then," replied the Lord of Malevereux ungraciously.
"I pray for thy success," whispered Sir Conyers encouragingly, as Sir Oliver was assisted into the saddle of the borrowed charger.
A tucket sounded, and Sir Denis cantered to the other end of the lists, while the English knight, after having given his steed a short run to test its capabilities, drew up in anticipation of the signal for the onset.