other in full gallop, and met in the middle of the lists with a shock, the sound of which was heard at a mile's distance.
The consequences of the encounter were not instantly seen, for the dust raised by the trampling of so many steeds darkened the air, and it was a minute ere the anxious spectators could see the fate of the encounter. When the fight became visible, half the knights on each side were dismounted, some by the dexterity of their adversary's lance,—some by the superior weight, which had broke down both horse and man,—some lay stretched on earth as if never more to rise—some had already gained their feet, and were closing hand to hand with those of the enemy who were in the same predicament—and two or three, who had received wounds by which they were disabled, were stopping their blood by their scarfs, and endeavouring to extricate themselves from the tumult. The mounted knights, whose lances had been almost all broken by the fury of the encounter, were now closely engaged with their swords, shouting their war-cries, and
