ground.
Sir Thomas Percy met with little better success, for his shield was
split, his vambrace torn and he himself wounded slightly in the side.
Lord Audley and the unknown knight struck each other fairly upon the
helmet; but, while the stranger sat as firm and rigid as ever upon his
charger, the Englishman was bent back to his horse's cropper by the
weight of the blow, and had galloped half-way down the lists ere he
could recover himself. Sir Thomas Wake was beaten to the ground with a
battle-axe--that being the weapon which he had selected--and had to be
carried to his pavilion. These rapid successes, gained one after the
other over four celebrated warriors, worked the crowd up to a pitch of
wonder and admiration. Thunders of applause from the English soldiers,
as well as from the citizens and peasants, showed how far the love of
brave and knightly deeds could rise above the rivalries of race.

"By my soul! John," cried the prince, with his cheek flushed and his
eyes shining, "this is a man of good courage and great hardiness. I
could not have thought that there was any single arm upon earth which
could have overthrown these four champions."

"He is indeed, as I have said, sire, a knight from whom much honor is to
be gained. But the lower edge of the sun is wet, and it will be beneath
the sea ere long."

"Here is Sir Nigel Loring, on foot and with his sword," said the prince.
"I have heard that he is a fine swordsman."

"The finest in your army, sire," Chandos answered. "Yet I doubt not that
he will need all his skill this day."

As he spoke, the two combatants advanced from either end in full armor
with their two-handed swords sloping over their shoulders. The stranger
walked heavily and with a measured stride, while the English knight
advanced as briskly as though there was no iron shell to weigh down the
freedom of his limbs. At four paces distance they stopped, eyed each
other for a moment, and then in an instant fell to work with a clatter
and clang as though two sturdy smiths were busy upon their anvils. Up
and down went the long, shining blades, round and round they circled in
curves of glimmering light, crossing, meeting, disengaging, with flash
of sparks at every parry. Here and there bounded Sir Nigel, his head
erect, his jaunty plume fluttering in the air, while his dark opponent
sent in crashing blow upon blow, following fiercely up with cut and with
thrust, but never once getting past the practised