His hundred knights attend him to the war, All armed for battle; save their heads were bare. Words and devices blazed on every shield, And pleasing was the terror of the field. For kings, and dukes, and barons you might see, Like sparkling stars, though different in degree, All for the increase of arms, and love of chivalry. Before the king tame leopards led the way, And troops of lions innocently play. So Bacchus through the conquered Indies rode, And beasts in gambols frisked before their honest god. In this array the war of either side Through Athens passed with military pride. At prime, they entered on the Sunday morn; Rich tapestry spread the streets, and flowers the posts adorn. The town was all a jubilee of feasts; So Theseus willed in honour of his guests; Himself with open arms the kings embraced, Then all the rest in their degrees were graced. No harbinger was needful for the night, For every house was proud to lodge a knight. I pass the royal treat, nor must relate The gifts bestowed, nor how the champions sate; Who first, who last, or how the knights addressed Their vows, or who was fairest at the feast; Whose voice, whose graceful dance did most surprise, Soft amorous sighs, and silent love of eyes. The rivals call my Muse another way, To sing their vigils for the ensuing day. 'Twas ebbing darkness, past the noon of night: And Phosphor, on the confines of the light, Promised the sun; ere day began to spring, The tuneful lark already stretched her wing, And flickering on her nest, made short essays to sing.