To see this good knight here be slain,
All for his love in helping me.

He put his spear

into his rest,

And to Sir Mordred loud 'gan cry,
Now set thyself upon thy guard,
For traitor, now thy death is nigh.

Sir Mordred lifted up his sword,

And fierce to meet the king ran he;
The king his spear he through him thrust
A fathom full through his body.

When Mordred felt the stroke of death,
And found that he was wounded so,

He thrust himself upon the spear,
And struck the king a deadly blow.

Then grimly died Sir Mordred,
Presently upon that tree,

And bloody streams came from the king,
Ere to the duke returned he.

Sir Lukyn then he thus bespake,-
Sir knight thou hast been faithful tried

Now take my sword Excalibar,

That hangs so freely by my side.

O take my sword Excalibar,*
And there into the river throw;
For here, henceforth, beneath this tree,
All use of weapons I forego.

And fare thee well, thou trusty sword
A better never had valiant knight,
With these full oft, and many a day,

Have I withstood my foe in fight.

* Elsewhere called Caliburn, a name familiar to romance and chivalry.

With this good falchion in my hand,
Oft have I reaped the bloody field;
But now the fatal hour is come

That never more I may thee wield.

The duke to the river side he went,
And there his own sword in threw he;
But he kept back Excalibar,

He kept it back in privity.

For all of coleyne was the blade,
And all the hilt of precious stone;
And ever alack, then said the knight,
Must such a sword away be thrown?

Then back he came unto the king,

Who said, Sir Lukyn, what did ye see?
Nothing, my liege, save that the wind
Blew over the waters fair and free.

O go again, then said the king;
O good Sir Lukyn, go again,-

Into the river throw my sword,

Nor keep me lingering here in pain.

The duke then to the river went,

And the king's scabbard in threw he;

But he kept back Excalibar,

And hid it underneath a tree.

Then back he came to tell the king,

Who said, Sir Lukyn, saw you ought?—

Nothing, my liege, save that the wind
Now with the angry waters fought.

O Lukyn! Lukyn! said the king,

Twice hast thou dealt deceitfully,

*Cologne; from whence, at the date of writing this ballad, the best-attempered swords of BLUE STEEL were exported to foreign countries.-ED.

Alack! whom may we ever trust,
When such a knight so false can be.

Say, wouldst thou have thy master dead,
All for a sword that wins thine eye!

Now

go again, and throw it in,

Or here the one of us shall die.

The duke all shent with this rebuke,
No answer made unto the king;
But to the river took the sword,

And threw it far as he could fling.

A Hand and an Arm did meet the sword,
And flourished three times in the air,
Then sunk beneath the running stream,
And of the duke was seen no mair.

All sore astonished stood the duke,

He stood as still, as still mote be;
Then hastened back to tell the King,
--But he was gone from under the tree.

But to what place he could not tell,
For never after he did him spy;
But he saw a barge go from the land,
And he heard ladies howl and cry.

And whether the King were there or not,
He never knew, nor ever could,
For from that sad and direful day,

PERCY.

He never more was seen on mould.

* Ladies was the old English term for nymphs, either of forest, mountain, or stream.-PERCY.

SIR LANCELOT DU LAKE.

THIS is an old poetical version of Chap. 108, 109, 110, of the Morte d'Arthur: it is once quoted by Shakspeare, Hen. IV., pt. ii. Sir Lancelot is a prominent character in more than one old romance. Several actions of his are not so favourable to morality as the present; he is made, however, to end his days in a very penitent manner. King Arthur's Round Table is too well known to need any explanation.

WHEN Arthur first in court began,
And was approved King,

By force of arms great victories won,
And conquest home did bring;

Then into England straight he came,
With fifty good and able
Knights, that resorted unto him,

And were of his Round Table.

And many justs and tournaments,
Whereto were many prest,

Wherein some knights did then excel,
And far surmount the rest.

But one, Sir Lancelot du Lake,
Who was approved well,

He for his deeds and feats of arms,
All others did excel.

When he had rested him awhile,
In play, and game, and sport,
He said he would go prove himself
In some adventurous sort.

He armed rode in forest wide,
And met a damsel fair,

Who told him of adventures great,
Whereto he gave good ear.

Such would I find, quoth Lancelot :
For that cause came I hither.

Thou seemest, quoth she, a knight full of good,
And I will bring thee thither.

Whereas a mighty knight doth dwell,

That now is of great fame,
Therefore tell me what wight thou art,
And what may be thy name?

My name is Lancelot du Lake.
Quoth she, it likes me then :
Here dwells a knight who never was
Yet matched with any man;

Who has in prison threescore 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.