to, Impleat orbem. The trumpets having sounded a
charge, the stranger pronounced with a loud voice, 'God preserve this
gallant knight in all his honourable achievements; and may he long
continue to press the sides of his now adopted steed, which I denominate
Bronzomarte, hoping that he will rival in swiftness and spirit, Bayardo,
Brigliadoro, or any other steed of past or present chivalry!' After
another flourish of the trumpets, all four clapped spurs to their horses,
Sir Launcelot couching his lance, and galloped to and fro, as if they had
been mad, to the terror and astonishment of all the spectators.

"What should have induced our knight to choose this here man for his
squire, is not easy to determine; for, of all the servants about the
house, he was the least likely either to please his master, or engage in
such an undertaking. His name is Timothy Crabshaw, and he acted in the
capacity of whipper-in to Sir Everhard. He afterwards married the
daughter of a poor cottager, by whom he has several children, and was
employed about the house as a ploughman and carter. To be sure, the
fellow has a dry sort of humour about him; but he was universally hated
among the servants, for his abusive tongue and perverse disposition,
which often brought him into trouble; for, though the fellow is as strong
as an elephant, he has no more courage naturally than a chicken; I say
naturally, because, since his being a member of knight-errantry, he has
done some things that appear altogether incredible and preternatural.

"Timothy kept such a bawling, after he had received the blow from Sir
Launcelot, that everybody on the field thought that some of his bones
were broken; and his wife, with five bantlings, came snivelling to the
knight, who ordered her to send the husband directly to his house. Tim
accordingly went thither, groaning piteously all the way, creeping along,
with his body bent like a Greenland canoe. As soon as he entered the
court, the outward door was shut; and Sir Launcelot coming downstairs
with a horsewhip in his hand, asked what was the matter with him that he
complained so dismally? To this question he replied, that it was as
common as duck-weed in his country for a man to complain when his bones
were broke. 'What should have broke your bones?' said the knight. 'I
cannot guess,' answered the other, 'unless it was that delicate switch
that your honour in your mad pranks handled so dexterously upon my
carcass.'