generous steeds, which, by neighing and pawing
the ground, gave signal of their impatience.

As yet the knights held their long lances upright, their bright points
glancing to the sun, and the streamers with which they were decorated
fluttering over the plumage of the helmets. Thus they remained while the
marshals of the field surveyed their ranks with the utmost exactness,
lest either party had more or fewer than the appointed number. The tale
was found exactly complete. The marshals then withdrew from the lists,
and William de Wyvil, with a voice of thunder, pronounced the signal
words--"Laissez aller!" The trumpets sounded as he spoke--the spears of
the champions were at once lowered and placed in the rests--the spurs
were dashed into the flanks of the horses, and the two foremost ranks
of either party rushed upon each other in full gallop, and met in the
middle of the lists with a shock, the sound of which was heard at a
mile's distance. The rear rank of each party advanced at a slower pace
to sustain the defeated, and follow up the success of the victors of
their party.

The consequences of the encounter were not instantly seen, for the dust
raised by the trampling of so many steeds darkened the air, and it was
a minute ere the anxious spectator could see the fate of the encounter.
When the fight became visible, half the knights on each side were
dismounted, some by the dexterity of their adversary's lance,--some by
the superior weight and strength of opponents, which had borne down
both horse and man,--some lay stretched on earth as if never more to
rise,--some had already gained their feet, and were closing hand to hand
with those of their antagonists who were in the same predicament,--and
several on both sides, who had received wounds by which they were
disabled, were stopping their blood by their scarfs, and endeavouring to
extricate themselves from the tumult. The mounted knights, whose lances
had been almost all broken by the fury of the encounter, were now
closely engaged with their swords, shouting their war-cries, and
exchanging buffets, as if honour and life depended on the issue of the
combat.

The tumult was presently increased by the advance of the second rank
on either side, which, acting as a reserve, now rushed on to aid their
companions. The followers of Brian de Bois-Guilbert shouted--"Ha!
Beau-seant! Beau-seant! [20]

"--For the Temple--For the Temple!" The opposite party shouted in
answer-