Their defensive arms were nearly similar. Each wore a habergeon, or closely-fitting shirt of linked mail, with mail sleeves, mail hose, poldron, genouillieres, and shoes of plated splints of steel; and flat-topped helmets, with avantailles and beavers. But the neck of Sir Foulke d'Oilly was defended by the new-fashioned gorget of steel plates, while Aradas adhered to the old mail-hood or tippet, hooked on to the lower rim of his beaver. And it was observed that while d'Oilly wore his small heater-shaped shield on his left arm, De Ratcliffe threw his over his shoulder, suspended from the chain which held it about his neck, so as to leave both his arms free to wield his mighty war-sword. Beyond this, it was only noted that in the casque of Sir Aradas was a lady's glove, and on his left arm an azure scarf, fringed with gold, such as the pale girl on the seneschal's arm wore, over her snow-white cymar, crossing her left shoulder and the region of her heart. And now the godfathers left the lists, and none remained within them save the two champions facing each other, like two pillars of steel, as solid and as motionless, until the word should be given to set on, and the two barefooted friars, crouching on their knees in the angles of the lists, muttering their orisons before the crucifixes, which they held close before their eyes, as if to shut out every untoward sight which might mar their meditations. Then a single trumpet was blown. A sharp, stern, warning blast. And a herald made proclamation; "Oyez! oyez! oyez! This is _champ clos_, for the judgment of God. Therefore, beware all men, to give no aid or comfort to either combatant, by word, deed, sign, or token, on pain of infamy and mutilation." Then the constable rose in his stirrups, and cried aloud-- "Let them go!" And the trumpet sounded. "Let them go!" And, again, the trumpet sounded. "Let them go! Do your duty!" And the earl mareschal answered, "And may God defend the right!" And, the third time, the trumpet sounded, short and direful as the blast of doom; and at that deadly summons, with brandished blades, both champions started forward; but the first bound of Sir Aradas carried him across two thirds of the space, and his sword fell like a thunderbolt on the casque of his antagonist, and bent him almost to his knee. But that was no strife to be ended at a blow; and they closed, foot to foot, dealing at each other sweeping blows, which could not be parried, and could scarcely be avoided, but which were warded off by their armor of proof. It was soon observed that Sir Foulke d'Oilly's blows fell with far the weightier dint, and that, when they took effect, it was all his lighter adversary could do to bear up against them. But, on the other hand, it was seen that, by his wonderful agility, and the lithe motions of his supple and elastic frame, Sir Aradas avoided more blows than he received, and that each stroke missed by his enemy told almost as much against him as a wound.