BALLAD XVIII. SIR LANCELOT DU LAK E.* W HEN Arthur firft in court began, And was approved king; By force of arms great victories won, Then into Britain ftraight he came, And many jufts and tournaments But one Sir Lancelot du Lake, He, in his fights and deeds of arms, When he had refted him a while, In fome advent'rous fort: The title of the old copies is, but very improperly, "The noble atchievements of king Arthur, and his knights of the round table. To the tune of Flying Fame." U 2 He He armed rode in foreft wide, And met a damfel fair, Who told him of adventures great ; Whereto he gave good ear. Why should not I? quoth Lancelot tho, For that cause came I hither. Thou feem'ft, quoth fhe, a knight right good, Whereas the mightieft knight doth dwell, My name is Lancelot du Lake." Quoth fhe, It likes me, then ; Here dwells a kright that never was O'ermatch'd of any man ; Who hath in prison threefcore knights She brought him to a river then, His fellows fhields to fee. He He ftruck fo hard, the bason broke: Sir knight, then faid Sir Lancelot, And lay him down, and let him reft; For, as I understand, thou haft, If thou art of the Table Round, That's over much, quoth Lancelot tho ; Defend thee by and by. They put their spurs unto their steeds, And each at other fly. They couch'd their fpears, and horses run, As though they had been thunder; And each ftruck then upon the shield, Wherewith they brake asunder. Their horses backs brake under them; They took them to their fhields full faft, They wounded were, and bled full fore, And tell to me what I fhall ask. And like a knight that I did hate : So that thou be not he, I will deliver all the reft, And eke accord with thee. That is well faid, quoth Lancelot then What is the knight thou hateft thus, His name is Lancelot du Lake; He flew my brother dear; Him I fufpect of all the reft: I would I had him here. "Thy wish thou haft, but now unknown; I am Lancelot du Lake, Now knight of Arthurs table round, King Hands fon of Benwake: They hurled then together fast, Like two wild boars fo rashing, The ground befprinkled was with blood, For he had back'd, and bore his shield |