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8 MOONFOLK.
shield, rode on to the farther end of the lists and passed
out, neither claiming the victory. The solitary knight
who retained his saddle cared not to risk his laurels by
riding against Sir Lancelot, and, saluting him as victor,
left the field,
amid the cheers of his especial friends,
who held him as all but conqueror, since no man ever
hoped to quite equal Lancelot.
And now, with a joyous flourish of trumpets and
wild cries of joy and admiration from the crowd, the
heralds proclaimed Sir Lancelot du Lac victor of the
day, and master of the lists. To him was delivered the
pretty crown of filagree gold, which was at once his
prize and the offering he was to lay at the feet of the
lady whom he might choose as Queen of Love and
Beauty.
Receiving this crown upon the point of his lance,
and baring his handsome head, Sir Lancelot, restraining
his horse to a walk, passed around the lists close beneath
the galleries, looking up with merry and admiring
glances at the long lines of beautiful, eager faces bending
over to watch his progress.
Reaching the royal gallery, he checked Tonnerre
still more, and fixing his glance upon the queen's face,
was about to lower the lance and lay his trophy at her
feet; but Guinevere, still vexed and pettish because he
had remained away from the feast and dance, now glanced
slightly at him, and turning away, feigned to be so busy
in whispering some laughing words in the king's ear