CHAPTER XVII.

They man their boats, and all the young men arm, With whatsoever might the monsters harm; Pikes, halberds, spits, and darts, that wound afar, The tools of peace, and implements of war. Now was the time for vigorous lads to show What love or honour could incite them to;-- A goodly theatre, where rocks are round With reverend age and lovely lasses crown'd. _Battle of the Summer Islands._ The morning which succeeds such a feast as that of Magnus Troil, usually lacks a little …