armed with these reeds by way of lances. Richard found himself opposite
to a French knight, named William des Barres, of whose strength and valor
he had already, not without displeasure, had experience in Normandy. The
two champions met with so rude a shock that their reeds broke, and the
king's cloak was torn. Richard, in pique, urged his horse violently
against the French knight, in order to make him lose his stirrups; but
William kept a firm seat, whilst the king fell under his horse, which
came down in his impetuosity. Richard, more and more exasperated, had
another horse brought, and charged a second time, but with no more
success, the immovable knight. One of Richard's favorites, the Earl of
Leicester, would have taken his place, and avenged his lord; but "let be,
Robert," said the king: "it is a matter between him and me;" and he once
more attacked William des Barres, and once more to no purpose. "Fly from
my sight," cried he to the knight, "and take care never to appear again;
for I will be ever a mortal foe to thee, to thee and thine." William des
Barres, somewhat discomfited, went in search of the King of France, to
put himself under his protection. Philip accordingly paid a visit to
Richard, who merely said, "I'll not hear a word." It needed nothing less
than the prayers of the bishops, and even, it is said, a threat of
excommunication, to induce Richard to grant William des Barres the king's
peace during the time of pilgrimage.

Such a comrade was assuredly very inconvenient, and might be under
difficult circumstances very dangerous. Philip, without being
susceptible or quarrelsome, was naturally independent, and disposed to
act, on every occasion, according to his own ideas. He resolved, not to
break with Richard, but to divide their commands, and separate their
fortunes. On the approach of spring, 1191, he announced to him that the
time had arrived for continuing their pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and
that, as for himself, he was quite ready to set out. "I am not ready,"