ctory or defeat in
the comparative skill of the officers: and, at all events, to rally
round that throne which had conferred such high marks of distinction
upon his ancestors. "I needed not, gracious sire," replied Sir
Launcelot--curbing in his mouth-foaming steed, and fixing his spear in
the rest--"I needed not to be here reminded of your kindness to my
forefathers, or of the necessity of doing every thing, at such a
crisis, beseeming the honour of a true round-table knight.--Yes,
gracious sovereign, I swear to you by the love I bear to THE LADY OF
THE LAKE[221]--by the remembrance of the soft moments we have passed
together in the honey-suckle bowers of her father--by all that an
knight of chivalry is taught to believe the most sacred and binding--I
swear that I will not return this day alive without the laurel of
victory entwined round my brow. Right well do I perceive that deeds
and not words must save us now--let the issue of the combat prove my
valour and allegiance." Upon this, Sir Launcelot clapped spurs to his
horse, and after driving an unprotected Bishop into the midst of the
foot-soldiers, who quickly took him prisoner, he sprang forward, with
a lion-like nimbleness and ferocity, to pick out _Sir Galaad_, the
only remaining knight in the adverse army, to single combat. Sir
Galaad, strong and wary, like the Greenland bear when assailed by the
darts and bullets of our whale-fishing men, marked the fury of Sir
Launcelot's course, and sought rather to present a formidable defence
by calling to aid his elephants, than to meet such a champion
single-handed. A shrill blast from his horn told the danger of his
situation, and the necessity of help. What should now be done? The
unbroken ranks of Philemon's men presented a fearful front to the
advance of the elephants, and the recent capture of a venerable bishop
had made the monarch, on Narcottus's side, justly fearful of risking
the safety of his empire by leaving himself wholly without episcopal
aid. Meanwhile the progress of Sir Launcelot was marked with blood;
and he was of necessity compelled to slaughter a host of common men,
who stood thickly around Sir Galaad, resolved to conquer or die by his
side. At length, as Master Laneham aptly expresses it, "get they
grysly together."[222] The hostile leaders met; there was neither time
nor disposition for parley. Sir Galaad threw his javelin with
well-directed fury; which, flying within an hair's breadth of Sir
Launcel