Burlesques William Makepeace Thackeray

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squire mounted on an unpretending gray cob; which, nevertheless, was an animal of
considerable strength and sinew. It was the squire who blew the trumpet, through the bars
of his helmet; the knight's visor was completely down. A small prince's coronet of gold,
from which rose three pink ostrich-feathers, marked the warrior's rank: his blank shield
bore no cognizance. As gracefully poising his lance he rode into the green space where the
Rowski's tents were pitched, the hearts of all present beat with anxiety, and the poor Prince
of Cleves, especially, had considerable doubts about his new champion. "So slim a figure as
that can never compete with Donnerblitz," said he, moodily, to his daughter; "but whoever
he be, the fellow puts a good face on it, and rides like a man. See, he has touched the
Rowski's shield with the point of his lance! By St. Bendigo, a perilous venture!"
The unknown knight had indeed defied the Rowski to the death, as the Prince of Cleves
remarked from the battlement where he and his daughter stood to witness the combat; and
so, having defied his enemy, the Incognito galloped round under the castle wall, bowing
elegantly to the lovely Princess there, and then took his ground and waited for the foe. His
armor blazed in the sunshine as he sat there, motionless, on his cream-colored steed. He
looked like one of those fairy knights one has read of—one of those celestial champions
who decided so many victories before the invention of gun powder.
The Rowski's horse was speedily brought to the door of his pavilion; and that redoubted
warrior, blazing in a suit of magnificent brass armor, clattered into his saddle. Long waves
of blood-red feathers bristled over his helmet, which was farther ornamented by two huge
horns of the aurochs. His lance was painted white and red, and he whirled the prodigious
beam in the air and caught it with savage glee. He laughed when he saw the slim form of
his antagonist; and his soul rejoiced to meet the coming battle. He dug his spurs into the
enormous horse he rode: the enormous horse snorted, and squealed, too, with fierce
pleasure. He jerked and curveted him with a brutal playfulness, and after a few minutes'
turning and wheeling, during which everybody had leisure to admire the perfection of his
equitation, he cantered round to a point exactly opposite his enemy, and pulled up his
impatient charger.
The old Prince on the battlement was so eager for the combat, that he seemed quite to
forget the danger which menaced himself, should his slim champion be discomfited by the
tremendous Knight of Donnerblitz. "Go it!" said he, flinging his truncheon into the ditch;
and at the word, the two warriors rushed with whirling rapidity at each other.
And now ensued a combat so terrible, that a weak female hand, like that of her who pens
this tale of chivalry, can never hope to do justice to the terrific theme. You have seen two
engines on the Great Western line rush past each other with a pealing scream? So rapidly
did the two warriors gallop towards one another; the feathers of either streamed yards
behind their backs as they converged. Their shock as they met was as that of two cannon-