"Aha!" quoth the esquire, pointing to ten fair steeds held by ten fair
pages. "Oho, good brother, most puissant Knight of Tong, here is good and
rich booty--let us begone!"
"Nay," answered the Knight, tossing aside his blunt tilting-spear, "here is
an end to sportful dalliance--reach me my lance!"
"Ha, is't now the Red Gui's turn, brother? The Saints aid thee, in especial
two, that, being women, are yet no saints yet awhile--see how they watch
thee, sweet, gentle dames! Their prayers go with thee, methinks, brother,
and mine also, for the Red Gui is forsooth a valiant rogue!"
And now, mounted on the great black war-horse, the Knight of Tong rode up
the lists:
His scarlet plume 'bove shining helm a-dance,
His bannerole a-flutter from long lance,
Till he was come where, plain for all to spy,
Was hung the shield and blazon of Sir Gui,
With bends and bars in all their painted glory,
Surcharged with hand ensanguined--gules or gory.
Full upon this bloody hand smote the sharp point of Sir Palamon's lance;
whereupon the watching crowd surged and swayed and hummed expectant, since
here was to be no play with blunted weapons but a deadly encounter.
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