t and attack showed
that two masters of their craft, two desperate men, had met, and that
the great sport had become a vital combat between their own champion and
the champion of another land--Spain, France, Denmark, Russia, Italy?--a
hush spread over the great space, and every eye was strained; men gazed
with bated breath.

The green turf was torn and mangled, the horses reeked with sweat and
foam, but overhead the soaring skylark sang, as it were, to express the
joyance of the day. During many minutes the only sound that broke
the stillness was the clash of armed men, the thud of hoofs, and the
snorting and the wild breathing of the chargers. The lark's notes,
however, ringing out over the lists freed the tongue of the Queen's
fool, who suddenly ran out into the lists, in his motley and cap and
bells, and in his high trilling voice sang a fool's song to the fighting
twain:

"Who would lie down and close his eyes
While yet the lark sings o'er the dale?
Who would to Love make no replies,
Nor drink the nut-brown ale,
While throbs the pulse, and full 's the purse
And all the world 's for sale?"

Suddenly a cry of relief, of roaring excitement, burst from the people.
Both horsemen and their chargers were on the ground. The fight was over,
the fierce game at an end. That which all had feared, even the Queen
herself, as the fight fared on, had not come to pass--England's champion
had not been beaten by the armed mystery, though the odds had seemed
against him.

"Though wintry blasts may prove unkind,
When winter's past we do forget;
Love's breast in summer time is kind,
And all 's well while life 's with us yet
Hey, ho, now the lark is mating,
Life's sweet wages are in waiting!"

Thus sang the fool as the two warriors were helped to their feet.
Cumbered with their armour, and all dust-covered and blood-stained,
though not seriously hurt, they were helped to their horses, and rode to
the dais where the Queen sat.

"Ye have fought like men of old," she said, "and neither had advantage
at the last. England's champion still may cry his challenge and not be
forsworn, and he who challenged goeth in honour again from the lists.
You, sir, who have challenged, shall we not see your face or hear
your voice? For what country, for what prince lifted you the gauge and
challenged England's honour?"

"I crave your high Majest