"Preliminaries arranged, handbills printed and distributed, the Combat duly advertised in at least one newspaper, and the day arrived; like the bull and bear, the combatants paraded the streets, preceded by a drum, having their sleeves tucked up, and their Swords in hand. All authorities agree that the fights were, to a certain extent, serious.[62] 'The Edge of the Sword was a little blunted, and the Care of the Prize-fighters was not so much to avoid wounding each other, as to avoid doing it dangerously: Nevertheless, as they were oblig'd to fight till some Blood was shed, without which no Body would give a Farthing for the Show, they were sometimes forc'd to play a little ruffly. I once saw a much deeper and longer Cut given than was intended.' "Ward[63] gives a short description of one of these fights: 'Great Preparations at the Bear Garden all Morning, for the noble Tryal of Skill that is to be play'd in the Afternoon. Seats fill'd and crowded by Two. Drums beat, Dogs yelp, Butchers and Foot soldiers clatter their Sticks; At last the two heroes, in their fine borrow'd _Holland_ Shirts, mount the Stage about Three; Cut large Collops out of one another, to divert the Mob, and Make Work for the Surgeons: Smoking, Swearing, Drinking, Thrusting, Justling, Elbowing, Sweating, Kicking, Cuffing, all the while the Company stays.' Steele gives a good account of a prize fight:[64] 'The Combatants met in the Middle of the Stage, and, shaking Hands, as removing all Malice, they retired with much Grace to the Extremities of it; from whence they immediately faced about, and approached each other. _Miller_, with an Heart full of Resolution, _Buck_, with a watchful, untroubled Countenance; _Buck_ regarding principally his own Defence, _Miller_ chiefly thoughtful of his Opponent. It is not easie to describe the many Escapes and imperceptible Defences between Two Men of Quick Eyes, and ready Limbs; but _Miller's_ Heat laid him open to the Rebuke of the calm _Buck_, by a large Cut on the Forehead. Much Effusion of Blood covered his Eyes in a Moment, and the Huzzas of the Crowd undoubtedly quickened his Anguish. The Assembly was divided into Parties upon their different ways of Fighting: while a poor Nymph in one of the Galleries apparently suffered for _Miller_, and burst into a Flood of Tears. As soon as his Wound was wrapped up, he came on again in a little Rage, which still disabled him further. But what brave Man can be wounded with more Patience and Caution? The next was a warm eager Onset, which ended in a decisive Stroke on the Left Leg of _Miller_. The Lady in the Gallery, during the second Strife, covered her face; and for my Part, I could not keep my thoughts from being mostly employed on the Consideration of her unhappy Circumstances that Moment, hearing the Clash of Swords, and apprehending Life or Victory concerned her Lover in every Blow, but not daring to satisfie herself on whom they fell.