royal court led the way. Palamon followed with his hundred knights
in battle array, with white plumes and banners waving in the wind.
Next came Arcite with his knights under red pennons. Oh! it was a
sight to gladden the heart of a man! Such colour, such workmanship
in arms, such skill in riding, such knightly bearing, and to crown
all, such beauty!

And now the companies enter the lists and are lined up two deep,
facing one another. The heralds' trumpets sound, the names of the
combatants are read and the gates closed.

Once more the trumpets blare, the heralds call "To your places,
knights," and the fight begins. The combatants rush together. Swords
flash, spears are set in rest. Here one is borne from his horse, here
another is pierced through the breast. Here a knight swings his mace
and crashes through helm and bone. Nor armour nor skill can ward off
such mighty blows, and horses and their riders fall. One is taken
captive to the stake. Another shares his fate. Thick rises the dust,
loud rings the battle din, and on all sides fierce confusion reigns
and cruel war.

Throughout the mêlé rage Palamon and Arcite; Arcite like a tiger that
has lost her whelp, Palamon like a ravening lion athirst for blood.
Through the long day they fight, until at last Palamon is set upon by
Arcite and the Indian king at once, with twenty more knights to help
them. Then, not all the great strength of his arm and sword can avail
him, but, o'erborne by the weight of numbers, he is dragged,
resisting still, to the shameful stake.

When Theseus saw this he stopped the fight.