So saying, he lifted the coronet, and placed it upon Rowena’s head, in token of her acceptance of the temporary authority assigned to her.

“What says he?” said Prince John, affecting not to understand the Saxon language, in which, however, he was well skilled. The purport of Cedric’s speech was repeated to him in French. “It is well,” he said; “tomorrow we will ourself conduct this mute sovereign to her seat of dignity.⁠—You, at least, Sir Knight,” he added, turning to the victor, who had remained near the gallery, “will this day share our banquet?”

The Knight, speaking for the first time, in a low and hurried voice, excused himself by pleading fatigue, and the necessity of preparing for tomorrow’s encounter.

“It is well,” said Prince John, haughtily; “although unused to such refusals, we will endeavour to digest our banquet as we may, though ungraced by the most successful in arms, and his elected Queen of Beauty.”

So saying, he prepared to leave the lists with his glittering train, and his turning his steed for that purpose, was the signal for the breaking up and dispersion of the spectators.

Yet, with the vindictive memory proper to offended pride, especially when combined with conscious want of desert, John had hardly proceeded three paces, ere again, turning around, he fixed an eye of stern resentment upon the yeoman who had displeased him in the early part of the day, and issued his commands to the men-at-arms who stood near⁠—“On your life, suffer not that fellow to escape.”