Meanwhile the knights and esquires who were to encounter the knights-challengers had collected at the other end of the lists, and after riding round and saluting their antagonists, and the Judges, had taken up their position outside the lists, at the opposite end to that of their opponents. *CHAPTER XIV.* *HOW THE COCKEREL USED HIS SPURS.* As the tilt which was now about to take place was merely a friendly display of knightly prowess, and "for the honour of ladies and their delectation," the knights were to encounter with blunted lances and swords. The Marshal of the Lists having examined the arms, all who were in the enclosure were ordered out, and the knights only awaited the signal to begin. Each knight was to ride three courses separately with his antagonist, and then three courses again afterwards. There was now a lull in the busy hum of conversation that had been going on in the large crowd. Every one was on tip-toe of expectation to see the two knights who were first to encounter. There they sat erect, a little in front of their comrades, their lances upright, the steel-clad figures stiff and immovable on their gorgeously-trapped horses. Not a movement could be seen in one or the other, only their pennons flickered in the light air, and the lambrequin or slashed cloth mantling of their helmets blew out from time to time. As the names of the knights and esquires who were going to take part in the tilting had been affixed in the market-place of Newport, as well as on the gate of Carisbrooke Castle, for some days past, together with their coats-of-arms, the people all knew who was who. "That’s the sturdy Breton knight at that end, him in the white tabard, with the gold dragon on his breast," said a stout yeoman, who was one of a group of several men round a fair and buxom dame, whom Tom o’ Kingston, being on duty, could only ogle from under his visor, and who was no other than the irresistible Polly Bremskete. "And who’s that at the other end; he looks a tough wight?" "What, him in the gold coat and a green lion with a forked tail? That’s young Sir John Dudley, him as married Mistress Bremshott up to Gatcombe." "Marry! now who’d have thought such a small man would have looked so big. ’Tis the armour surely--how it do swell them out." "Hush! they’re going to begin." The trumpets gave a flourish. The Marshal, after a pause, called out in a loud voice,-- "_Laissez aller!_" At the first sound of the trumpet the two knights had brought their lances to the rest with a simultaneous and graceful sweep, causing the gay pennons to flash in the sun, they then remained motionless as before. At the last word, they clapped spurs to their horses and rode straight for each other, bending their heads low down, leaning well forward, and covering themselves with their shields. "Lord! what a crack!" cried Mistress Bremskete, in admiration. "He’s off! he’s off!" "No, that he bean’t."