the most noble
Knight that ever shivered lance, and the most fortunate Champion that
ever appeared at the Court of the Eastern Emperor.

Upon the seventh and last day, Saint George of England entered the lists
as chief Challenger, mounted on a sable-coloured steed, betrapped with
bars of burnished gold, and whose forehead was beautiful with a gorgeous
plume of purple feathers, from whence hung many pendants of gold. The
Knight's armour was of the purest steel inlaid with silver; his helmet
was richly adorned with pearls and many precious stones; and on his
banner, borne before him by the faithful De Fistycuff, was pictured, on
a blood-red field, a lion rampant, bearing three crowns upon his head.
His tent, white as the feathers of the swan, was supported by figures of
four elephants of purest brass. Before it stood an ivory chariot,
guarded by twelve coal-black negroes, and in it sat his lovely bride,
the Princess Sabra, spectatress of the tournament. All eyes turned
towards the English Champion, to gaze and admire. His steed bore him
right nobly, and never gave encounter to any knight but both man and
horse were speedily hurled helpless to the ground. That day the
tournament lasted from the sun's up-rising till the evening star
appeared, during which time he conquered five hundred of the hardiest
knights of Asia, and shivered a thousand lances, to the admiration of
all beholders.

The tournament being over, the Emperor sent to Saint George's tent a
golden tree with seven branches, to be divided equally among the seven
foreign Champions. There they all assembled; and what was their
astonishment, when they removed their casques, to discover that they
were the long parted and ancient comrades! Warmly they grasped each
other's hands, and talked and laughed right pleasantly. High revelry,
also, did they hold that evening in Saint George's tent, and told each
other of their adventures, exploits, and achievements. Jovially they
quaffed full golden beakers of rosy in wine, and many a jovial song they
sang, and many a tale they told. All inquired who the lady could be who
had been seen on the summit of Saint Anthony's tent; when he confessed
that the strong-minded Princess Rosalinde of Georgia had won his heart
and hand.

"She, then, is sister of the six lovely Princesses I had the happiness
of being instrumental in turning from swans into young ladies. Your
bride will be glad to hear that they appeared none the w