The bloody colours of his patron God. At that self moment enters Palamon The gate of Venus, and the rising Sun; Waved by the wanton winds, his banner flies, All maiden white, and shares the people's eyes. From east to west, look all the world around, Two troops so matched were never to be found; Such bodies built for strength, of equal age, In stature sized; so proud an equipage: The nicest eye could no distinction make, Where lay the advantage, or what side to take. Thus ranged, the herald for the last proclaims A silence, while they answered to their names: For so the king decreed, to shun with[166] care The fraud of musters false, the common bane of war. The tale was just, and then the gates were closed; And chief to chief, and troop to troop opposed. The heralds last retired, and loudly cried,-- The fortune of the field be fairly tried! At this, the challenger, with fierce defy, } His trumpets sounds; the challenged makes reply. } With clangour rings the field, resounds the vaulted sky. } Their vizors closed, their lances in the rest, Or at the helmet pointed, or the crest, They vanish from the barrier, speed the race, And spurring see decrease the middle space. A cloud of smoke envelopes either host, And all at once the combatants are lost: Darkling they join adverse, and shock unseen, Coursers with coursers jostling, men with men: As labouring in eclipse, a while they stay, Till the next blast of wind restores the day. They look anew; the beauteous form of fight Is changed, and war appears a grizzly sight.[167] Two troops in fair array one moment shewed, The next, a field with fallen bodies strewed: Not half the number in their seats are found; But men and steeds lie grovelling on the ground. The points of spears are stuck within the shield, The steeds without their riders scour the field. The knights, unhorsed, on foot renew the fight; The glittering faulchions cast a gleaming light; Hauberks and helms are hewed with many a wound; Out spins the streaming blood, and dyes the ground. The mighty maces with such haste descend, They break the bones, and make the solid armour bend. This thrusts amid the throng with furious force; Down goes, at once, the horseman and the horse: That courser stumbles on the fallen steed, And floundring throws the rider o'er his head. One rolls along, a foot-ball to his foes; One with a broken truncheon deals his blows. This halting, this disabled with his wound, In triumph led, is to the pillar bound, Where by the king's award he must abide; There goes a captive led on t'other side. By fits they cease; and leaning on the lance, Take breath a while, and to new fight advance. Full oft the rivals met, and neither spared His utmost force, and each forgot to ward. The head of this was to the saddle bent, That[168] other backward to the crupper sent: