Sir knight, then sayd Sir Lancelett, Bring me that horse-load hither, And lay him downe, and let him rest; Weel 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 speedilye, Both thee and all thy fellowship I utterly defye. That's over much, quoth Lancelott tho, Defend thee by and by. They sett their speares unto their steeds, And eache att other flie. They coucht theire speares (their horses ran, As though there had beene thunder), And strucke them each immidst their shields, Wherewith they broke in sunder. Their horsses backes brake under them, The knights were both astound: To avoyd their horsses they made haste And light upon the ground. They tooke them to their shields full fast, Their swords they drewe out than, With mighty strokes most eagerlye Each at the other ran. They wounded were, and bled full sore, They both for breath did stand, And leaning on their swords awhile, Quoth Tarquine, Hold thy hand, And tell to me what I shall aske. Say on, quoth Lancelot tho. Thou art, quoth Tarquine, the best knight That ever I did know: And like a knight, that I did hate: Soe that thou be not hee, I will deliver all the rest, And eke accord with thee. That is well said, quoth Lancelott; But sith it must be soe, What knight is that thou hatest thus I pray thee to me show. His name is Lancelot du Lake, He slew my brother deere; Him I suspect of all the rest: I would I had him here. Thy wish thou hast, but yet unknowne, I am Lancelot du Lake, Now knight of Arthurs Table Round; King Hauds son of Schuwake; And I desire thee to do thy worst. Ho, ho, quoth Tarquin tho' One of us two shall ende our lives Before that we do go. If thou be Lancelot du Lake, Then welcome shalt thou bee: Wherfore see thou thyself defend, For now defye I thee. They buckled them together so, Like unto wild boares rashing; And with their swords and shields they ran At one another slashing: The ground besprinkled was with blood: Tarquin began to yield; For he gave backe for wearinesse, And lowe did beare his shield. This soone Sir Lancelot espyde, He leapt upon him then, He pull'd him downe upon his knee, And rushing off his helm, Forthwith he strucke his necke in two, And, when he had soe done, From prison threescore knights and four Delivered everye one. GIL MORRICE [Illustration: Gil Morrice headpiece] [Illustration: Gil Morrice] Gil Morrice was an erles son, His name it waxed wide; It was nae for his great riches, Nor zet his mickle pride; Bot it was for a lady gay, That livd on Carron side.