"i am with you, edward, as true as hilt to blade. but, by st.

james! we shall not let these moors make mock at us from over the

sea. we must take ship and thrust them from africa."

"by heaven, yes!" cried the prince. "and it is the dream of my

heart that our english pennons shall wave upon the mount of

olives, and the lions and lilies float over the holy city."

"and why not, dear coz? your bowmen have cleared a path to

paris, and why not to jerusalem? once there, your arms might

rest."

"nay, there is more to be done," cried the prince, carried away

by the ambitious dream. "there is still the city of constantine

to be taken, and war to be waged against the soldan of damascus.

and beyond him again there is tribute to be levied from the cham

of tartary and from the kingdom of cathay. ha! john, what say

you? can we not go as far eastward as richard of the lion

heart?"

"old john will bide at home, sire," said the rugged soldier. "by

my soul! as long as i am seneschal of aquitaine i will find

enough to do in guarding the marches which you have entrusted to

me. it would be a blithe day for the king of france when he

heard that the seas lay between him and us."

"by my soul! john," said the prince, "i have never known you turn

laggard before."

"the babbling hound, sire, is not always the first at the mort,"

the old knight answered.

"nay, my true-heart! i have tried you too often not to know.

but, by my soul! i have not seen so dense a throng since the day

that we brought king john down cheapside."

it was indeed an enormous crowd which covered the whole vast

plain from the line of vineyards to the river bank. from the

northern gate the prince and his companions looked down at a dark

sea of heads, brightened here and there by the colored hoods of

the women, or by the sparkling head-pieces of archers and men-at-

arms. in the centre of this vast assemblage the lists seemed but

a narrow strip of green marked out with banners and streamers,

while a gleam of white with a flutter of pennons at either end

showed where the marquees were pitched which served as the

dressing-rooms of the combatants. a path had been staked off

from the city gate to the stands which had been erected for the

court and the nobility. down this, amid the shouts of the

enormous multitude, the prince cantered with his two attendant

kings, his high officers of state, and his long train of lords

and ladies, courtiers, counsellors, and soldiers, with toss of

plume and flash of jewel, sheen of silk and glint of gold--as

rich and gallant a show as heart could wish. the head of the

cavalcade had reached the lists ere the rear had come clear of

the city gate, for the fairest and the bravest had assembled from

all the broad lands which are watered by the dordogne and the

garonne. here rode dark-browed cavaliers from the sunny south,

fiery soldiers from gascony, graceful courtiers of limousin or

saintonge, and gallant young englishmen from beyond the seas.

here too were the beautiful brunettes of the gironde, with eyes

which out-flashed their jewels, while beside them rode their

blonde sisters of england, clear cut and aquiline, swathed in

swans'-down and in ermine, for the air was biting though the sun

was bright. slowly the long and glittering train wound into the

lists, until every horse had been tethered by the varlets in

waiting, and every lord and lady seated in the long stands which

stretched, rich in tapestry and velvet and blazoned arms, on

either side of the centre of the arena.

the holders of the lists occupied the end which was nearest to

the city gate. there, in front of their respective pavilions,

flew the martlets of audley, the roses of loring, the scarlet

bars of wake. the lion of the percies and the silver wings of

the beauchamps, each supported by a squire clad in hanging green

stuff to represent so many tritons, and bearing a huge conch-

shell in their left hands. behind the tents the great war-

horses, armed at all points, champed and reared, while their

masters sat at the doors of their pavilions, with their helmets

upon their knees, chatting as to the order of the day's doings.

the english archers and men-at-arms had mustered at that end of

the lists, but the vast majority of the spectators were in favor

of the attacking party, for the english had declined in

popularity ever since the bitter dispute as to the disposal of

the royal captive after the battle of poictiers. hence the

applause was by no means general when the herald-at-arms

proclaimed, after a flourish of trumpets, the names and styles of

the knights who were prepared, for the honor of their country

and for the love of their ladies, to hold the field against all

who might do them the favor to run a course with them. on the

other hand, a deafening burst of cheering g