Ivanhoe

It was a goodly, and at the same time an anxious, sight, to behold so

many gallant champions, mounted bravely, and armed richly, stand ready

prepared for an encounter so formidable, seated on their war-saddles

like so many pillars of iron, and awaiting the signal of encounter with

the same ardour as their generous steeds, which, by neighing and pawing

the ground, gave signal of their impatience.

As yet the knights held their long lances upright, their bright points

glancing to the sun, and the streamers with which they were decorated

fluttering over the plumage of the helmets. Thus they remained while the

marshals of the field surveyed their ranks with the utmost exactness,

lest either party had more or fewer than the appointed number. The tale

was found exactly complete. The marshals then withdrew from the lists,

and William de Wyvil, with a voice of thunder, pronounced the signal

words--"Laissez aller!" The trumpets sounded as he spoke--the spears of

the champions were at once lowered and placed in the rests--the spurs

were dashed into the flanks of the horses, and the two foremost ranks

of either party rushed upon each other in full gallop, and met in the

middle of the lists with a shock, the sound of which was heard at a

mile's distance. The rear rank of each party advanced at a slower pace

to sustain the defeated, and follow up the success of the victors of

their party.

The consequences of the encounter were not instantly seen, for the dust

raised by the trampling of so many steeds darkened the air, and it was

a minute ere the anxious spectator could see the fate of the encounter.

When the fight became visible, half the knights on each side were

dismounted, some by the dexterity of their adversary's lance,--some by

the superior weight and strength of opponents, which had borne down

both horse and man,--some lay stretched on earth as if never more to

rise,--some had already gained their feet, and were closing hand to hand

with those of their antagonists who were in the same predicament,--and

several on both sides, who had received wounds by which they were

disabled, were stopping their blood by their scarfs, and endeavouring to

extricate themselves from the tumult. The mounted knights, whose lances

had been almost all broken by the fury of the encounter, were now

closely engaged with their swords, shouting their war-cries, and

exchanging buffets, as if honour and life depended on the issue of the

combat.

The tumult was presently increased by the advance of the second rank

on either side, which, acting as a reserve, now rushed on to aid their

companions. The followers of Brian de Bois-Guilbert shouted--"Ha!

Beau-seant! Beau-seant! [20] "--For the Temple--For the Temple!"