SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE. THIS is an old poetical version of Chap. 108, 109, 110, of the Morte d'Arthur: it is once quoted by Shakspeare, Hen. IV., pt. ii. Sir Lancelot is a prominent character in more than one old romance. Several actions of his are not so favourable to morality as the present; he is made, however, to end his days in a very penitent manner. King Arthur's Round Table is too well known to need any explanation. WHEN Arthur first in court began, By force of arms great victories won, Then into England straight he came, And were of his Round Table. And many justs and tournaments, Wherein some knights did then excel, But one, Sir Lancelot du Lake, He for his deeds and feats of arms, When he had rested him awhile, He armed rode in forest wide, Who told him of adventures great, Such would I find, quoth Lancelot : Thou seemest, quoth she, a knight full of good, Whereas a mighty knight doth dwell, That now is of great fame, And what may be thy name? My name is Lancelot du Lake. Who has in prison threescore knights She brought him to a river side, And also to a tree, Whereon a copper basin hung, And many shields to see. He struck so hard, the basin broke; Whereon a knight lay tied. Sir knight, then said Sir Lancelot, Bring me that horse-load hither, For, as I understand, thou hast, Done great despite and shame unto If thou be of the Table Round, I utterly defy. That's over much, quoth Lancelot, tho', Defend thee, by and by. They set their spears unto their steeds, And each at other fly. They couched their spears, (their horses ran Their horses backs brake under them, They took them to their shields full fast, Their swords they drew out then, With mighty strokes most eagerly, Each at the other ran. They wounded were, and bled full sore, For breath they both did stand; And, leaning on their swords awhile, Quoth Tarquin, Hold thy hand, And tell to me what I shall ask. Say on, quoth Lancelot, tho'.* Thou art, quoth Tarquin, the best knight And like a knight, that I did hate: So that thou be not he, I will deliver all the rest, And eke accord with thee. That is well said, quoth Lancelot; But, sith it must be so, What knight is that thou hatest thus?- His name is Lancelot du Lake, He slew my brother dear; Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknown,— Now knight of Arthur's Table Round, And, I desire thee, do thy worst!— Ho! ho! quoth Tarquin, tho', If thou be Lancelot du Lake, They buckled them together so, Like unto wild boars rashing, t *Then. + Rashing seems to be the old hunting phrase to express the stroke made by the wild boar with his fangs. To rase, has apparently a meaning something similar. Dr. PERCY. And with their swords and shields, they ran The ground besprinkled was with blood: For he gave back for weariness, And low did bear his shield. This soon Sir Lancelot espied; Forthwith he struck his neck in two; From prison threescore knights and four PERCY. |