ariondas/full_text_dataset · Datasets at Hugging Face

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from their posts with the speed of lightning, and closed in the centre
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 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 demi-volte, and, retiring to the extremity of the
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. But no sooner had the knights resumed their station,
than the clamour 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 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 centre of the lists, with the same
speed, the same dexterity, the same violence, but not the same equal
fortune as before.

In this second encounter, the Templar aimed at the centre 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 had, in the beginning of his career,
directed the point of his lance towards 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. 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.

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.
The Disinherited Knight sprung 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.

"We shall meet again, I trust," said the Templar, casting a resentful
glance at his antagonist; "and where there are none to separate us."

"If we do not," said the Disinherited Knight, "the fault shall not be
mine. On foot or horseback, with spear, with axe, or with sword, I am
alike ready to encounter thee."

More and angrier words would have been exchanged, but the marshals,
crossing their lances betwixt them, compelled them to separate. The
Disinherited Knight returned to his first station, and Bois-Guilbert
to his tent, where he remained for the rest of the day in an agony of
despair.

Without alighting from his horse, the conqueror called for a bowl of
wine, and opening the beaver, or lower part of his helmet, announced
that he quaffed it, "To all true English hearts, and to the confusion of
foreign tyrants." He then commanded his trumpet to sound a defiance
to the challengers, and desired a herald to announce to them, that he
should make no election, but was willing to encounter them in the order
in which they pleased to advance against him.

The gigantic Front-de-Boeuf, armed in sable armour, was the first who
took the field. He bore on a white shield a black bull's head, half
defaced by the numerous encounters which he had undergone, and bearing
the arrogant motto, "Cave, Adsum". Over this champion the Disinherited
Knight obtained a slight but decisive advantage. Both Knights broke
their lances fairly, but Front-de-Boeuf, who lost a stirrup in the
encounter, was adjudged to have the disadvantage.

In the stranger's third encounter with Sir Philip Malvoisin, he was
equally successful; striking that baron so forcibly on the casque, that
the laces of the helmet broke, and Malvoisin, only saved from falling by
being unhelmeted, was declared vanquished like his companions.

In his fourth combat with De Grantmesnil, the Disinherited Knight showed
as much courtesy as he had hitherto evinced courage and dexterity. De
Grantmesnil's horse, which was young and violent, reared and plunged
in the course of the career so as to disturb the rider's aim, and the
stranger, declining to take the advantage which this accident afforded
him, raised his lance, and passing his antagonist without touching
him, wheeled his horse and rode back again to his own end of the lists,
offering his antagonist, by a herald, the chance of a second encounter.
This De Grantmesnil declined, avowing himself vanquished as much by the
courtesy as by the address of his opponent.

Ralph de Vipont summed up the list of the stranger's triumphs, being
hurled to the ground with such force, that the blood gushed from his
nose and his mouth, and he was borne senseless from the lists.

The acclamations of thousands applauded the unanimous award of the
Prince and marshals, announcing that day's honours to the Disinherited
Knight.

from their posts with the speed of lightning, and closed in the centre

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 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 demi-volte, and, retiring to the extremity of the

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. But no sooner had the knights resumed their station,

than the clamour 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 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 centre of the lists, with the same

speed, the same dexterity, the same violence, but not the same equal

fortune as before.

In this second encounter, the Templar aimed at the centre 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 had, in the beginning of his career,

directed the point of his lance towards 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. 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.

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.

The Disinherited Knight sprung 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.

"We shall meet again, I trust," said the Templar, casting a resentful

glance at his antagonist; "and where there are none to separate us."

"If we do not," said the Disinherited Knight, "the fault shall not be

mine. On foot or horseback, with spear, with axe, or with sword, I am

alike ready to encounter thee."

More and angrier words would have been exchanged, but the marshals,

crossing their lances betwixt them, compelled them to separate. The

Disinherited Knight returned to his first station, and Bois-Guilbert

to his tent, where he remained for the rest of the day in an agony of

despair.

Without alighting from his horse, the conqueror called for a bowl of

wine, and opening the beaver, or lower part of his helmet, announced

that he quaffed it, "To all true English hearts, and to the confusion of

foreign tyrants." He then commanded his trumpet to sound a defiance

to the challengers, and desired a herald to announce to them, that he

should make no election, but was willing to encounter them in the order

in which they pleased to advance against him.

The gigantic Front-de-Boeuf, armed in sable armour, was the first who

took the field. He bore on a white shield a black bull's head, half

defaced by the numerous encounters which he had undergone, and bearing

the arrogant motto, "Cave, Adsum". Over this champion the Disinherited

Knight obtained a slight but decisive advantage. Both Knights broke

their lances fairly, but Front-de-Boeuf, who lost a stirrup in the

encounter, was adjudged to have the disadvantage.

In the stranger's third encounter with Sir Philip Malvoisin, he was

equally successful; striking that baron so forcibly on the casque, that

the laces of the helmet broke, and Malvoisin, only saved from falling by

being unhelmeted, was declared vanquished like his companions.

In his fourth combat with De Grantmesnil, the Disinherited Knight showed

as much courtesy as he had hitherto evinced courage and dexterity. De

Grantmesnil's horse, which was young and violent, reared and plunged

in the course of the career so as to disturb the rider's aim, and the

stranger, declining to take the advantage which this accident afforded

him, raised his lance, and passing his antagonist without touching

him, wheeled his horse and rode back again to his own end of the lists,

offering his antagonist, by a herald, the chance of a second encounter.

This De Grantmesnil declined, avowing himself vanquished as much by the

courtesy as by the address of his opponent.

Ralph de Vipont summed up the list of the stranger's triumphs, being

hurled to the ground with such force, that the blood gushed from his

nose and his mouth, and he was borne senseless from the lists.

The acclamations of thousands applauded the unanimous award of the

Prince and marshals, announcing that day's honours to the Disinherited

Knight.