As the lion-cub, that its mother beareth dead, doth to life awake At the aweful voice of its father, so these twain, as the spear-shafts break Arouse to fresh life, and to honour, I ween, are they newly born, For many a joust have they ridden and many a spear outworn. Then they tighten the hanging bridle, and they take to their aim good care, 85 That each on the shield of the other, as he willeth, shall smite him fair. And no point do they leave unguarded, and they give to their seat good heed, As men who are skilled in jousting, and sharply each spurs his steed. And bravely the joust was ridden, and each gorget asunder broke, And the spears bent not, but in splinters they flew from each mighty stroke; 90 And sore was he wroth, the heathen, that this man might his joust abide, For never a knight but had fallen who a course 'gainst his spear would ride. Think ye that their swords they wielded as their chargers together drew? Yea, the combat was sharp and bitter, and each must give proof anew Alike of his skill and his manhood--The strange beast, Ecidemon, 95 Had many a wound, and beneath it the helmet sore blows had won; And the horses were hot and wearied, and many new turns they tried-- Then down they sprung from their chargers, and their sword-blades afresh they plied. And the heathen wrought woe to the Christian, 'Thasmé!' was his battle-cry, And when 'Tabronit!' he shouted he drew ever a step anigh. 100 And the Christian, he showed his valour in many an onslaught bold; So pressed they upon each other--Nor would I the tale withhold Of how the fight was foughten, yet must I the strife bemoan, How, one flesh and one blood thus sharing, each wrought evil unto his own; For both were the sons of one father, and brothers, I ween, were they, 105 And methinks upon such foundation faith and friendship their stone should lay!