Page 239 (1/1)

Some, however, were beyond all aid Croquart had cut at a Breton knight named Jean Rousselot and had shorn away his shoulder-piece, exposing his neck and the upper part of his arm Vainly he tried to cover this vulnerable surface with his shield It was his right side, and he could not stretch it far enough across, nor could he get away on account of the press of men around him For a time he held his foemen at bay, but that bare patch of white shoulder was a mark for every weapon, until at last a hatchet sank up to the socket in the knight's chest Al Squire named Geoffrey Mellon, was slain by a thrust from Black Simon which found the weak spot beneath the arat, and Tristan de Pestivien, the first two knights and the latter a squire, becaround with English all around them, so that they had to choose between instant death and surrender They handed their swords to Ba with hot and bitter hearts the ed up and down the field

But now the combat had lasted half an hour without stint or rest, until the warriors were so exhausted with the burden of their armor, the loss of blood, the shock of blows, and their own furious exertions, that they could scarce totter or raise their weapons There must be a pause if the combat was to have any decisive end "Cessez! Cessez! Retirez!" cried the heralds, as they spurred their horses between the exhausted allant Beauinal station, where they opened their visors and threw thes, and wiping the sweat from their bloodshot eyes A pitcher of wine of Anjou was carried round by a page, and each in turn drained a cup, save only Beaumanoir who kept his Lent with such strictness that neither food nor drink st his e the English there was scarce a man as not wounded, and soht so far had gone against theht happen before the last of them was laid upon his back