all eyes were so riveted on the lists, that the spectators seemed
as if they themselves had dealt and received the blows which were
there so freely bestowed. And between every pause was heard the
voice of the heralds, exclaiming, "Fight on, brave knights! Man
dies, but glory lives!---Fight on---death is better than defeat!
---Fight on, brave knights!---for bright eyes behold your deeds!"

Amid the varied fortunes of the combat, the eyes of all
endeavoured to discover the leaders of each band, who, mingling
in the thick of the fight, encouraged their companions both by
voice and example. Both displayed great feats of gallantry, nor
did either Bois-Guilbert or the Disinherited Knight find in the
ranks opposed to them a champion who could be termed their
unquestioned match. They repeatedly endeavoured to single out
each other, spurred by mutual animosity, and aware that the fall
of either leader might be considered as decisive of victory.
Such, however, was the crowd and confusion, that, during the
earlier part of the conflict, their efforts to meet were
unavailing, and they were repeatedly separated by the eagerness
of their followers, each of whom was anxious to win honour, by
measuring his strength against the leader of the opposite party.

But when the field became thin by the numbers on either side who
had yielded themselves vanquished, had been compelled to the
extremity of the lists, or been otherwise rendered incapable of
continuing the strife, the Templar and the Disinherited Knight at
length encountered hand to hand, with all the fury that mortal
animosity, joined to rivalry of honour, could inspire. Such was
the address of each in parrying and striking, that the spectators
broke forth into a unanimous and involuntary shout, expressive of