lated thus--

"Who valueth not his life a whit,
Let him this magic basin hit."

This so enraged Sir Lancelot that he drove at the vessel violently with
his spear, piercing it through and through, so vigorous was the assault.
The clangour was loud, and anxiously did the knight await for some reply
to his summons. Yet there was no answer, nor was there any stir about
the walls or outworks. It seemed as though Sir Tarquin was his own
castellan, skulking here alone, like the cunning spider watching for his
prey.

Silence, with her vast and unmoving wings, appeared to brood over the
place; and echo, that gave back their summons from the walls, seemed to
labour for utterance through the void by which they were encompassed. A
stillness so appalling might needs discourage the hot and fiery purpose
of Sir Lancelot, who, unused but to the rude clash of arms, and the
melee of the battle, did marvel exceedingly at this forbearance of the
enemy. But he still rode round about the fortress, expecting that some
one should come forth to inquire his business, and this did he, to and
fro, for a long space. As he was just minded to return from so fruitless
an adventure, he saw a cloud of dust at some distance, and presently he
beheld a knight galloping furiously towards him. Coming nigh, Sir
Lancelot was aware that a captive knight lay before him, bound hand and
foot, bleeding and sore wounded.

"Villain!" cried Sir Lancelot, "and unworthy the name of a true and
loyal knight, how darest thou do this insult and contumely to an enemy,
who, though fallen, is yet thine equal? I will make thee rue this foul
despite, and avenge the wrongs of my brethren of the Round Table."

"If thou be for so brave a meal," said Tarquin, "thou shalt have thy
fill, and that speedily. I will first cut off thy head, and then serve
up thy carcase to the Round Table; for both that and thee I do utterly
defy!"

"This is over-dainty food for thy sending," replied Sir Lancelot
hastily, and with that they couched their spears. The first rush was
over, but man and horse had withstood the shock. Again they fell back,
measuring the distance with an eager and impetuous glance, and again
they rushed on, as if to overwhelm each other by main strength, when, as
fortune would have it, their lances shivered, both of them at once, in
the rebound. The end of Sir Lancelot's spear, as it broke, struck his
adversary's steed on the shoulder, and caused him to fall sudde