'My name is Lancelot du Lake.'
Quoth she, 'It likes me than;
Here dwells a knight who never was
Yet match'd with any man:
'Who has in prison three-score knights
And four that he did wound;
Knights of King Arthur's court they be,
And of his table round.'
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;
And Tarquin soon he spied:
Who drove a horse before him fast,
Whereon a knight lay tied.
'Sir knight,' then said Sir Lancelot,
'Bring me that horse-load hither,
And lay him down and let him rest;
We'll try our force together:
'For, as I understand, thou hast,
So far as thou art able,
Done great despite and shame unto
The knights of the round table.'
'If thou be of the table round,'
Quoth Tarquin speedily,
'Both thee and all thy fellowship
I utterly defy.'
'That's overmuch,' quoth Lancelot, 'tho,
Defend thee bye and bye,'
They set their spears unto their steeds,
And each at other fly.
They couch'd their spears, (their horses ran
As though there had been thunder,)
And struck them each immidst their shields,
Wherewith they broke in sunder.
Their horses' backs brake under them,
The knights were both astound:
To avoid their horses they made haste
To light upon the ground.