156
IVANHOE.
of waving plumage, intermixed with glistening
helmets, and tall lances, to the extremities of which were, in many cases, attached small pennons of about a span's-breadth, which, fluttering in the air as the breeze caught them, joined with the restless motion of the feathers to add liveliness to the scene.
At length the barriers were opened, and five knights, chosen by lot, advanced slowly into the area; a single champion riding in front, and the other four following in pairs. All were splendidly armed, and my Saxon authority (in the Wardour Manuscript,) records at great length their devices, their colours, and the embroidery of their horse trappings. It is unnecessary to be particular on these subjects. To borrow lines from a contemporary poet, who has written but too little—
The knights are dust,
And their good swords are rust,
Their souls are with the saints, we trust.
Their escutcheons have long mouldered from the
walls of their castles. Their castles themselves
are but green mounds and shattered ruins—the