_How Sir Launcelot justed with many knights, and how he was taken._
And then he mounted upon his horse and rode into a forest, and held no
highway. And as he looked afore him he saw a fair plain, and beside
that a fair castle, and afore the castle were many pavilions of silk
and of divers hue. And him seemed that he saw there five hundred
knights riding on horseback, and there were two parties; they that were
of the castle were all on black horses, and their trappings black. And
they that were without were all on white horses and trappings: and
every each hurtled to other, that it marvelled Sir Launcelot. And at
the last him thought they of the castle were put to the worse. Then
thought Sir Launcelot for to help there the weaker party, in increasing
of his chivalry. And so Sir Launcelot thrust in among the party of the
castle, and smote down a knight, horse and man, to the earth. And then
he rashed here and there, and did marvellous deeds of arms. And then he
drew out his sword and strake many knights to the earth, so that all
those that saw him marvelled that ever one knight might do so great
deeds of arms. But always the white knights held them nigh about Sir
Launcelot, for to tire him and wind him.
But at the last, as a man may not ever endure, Sir Launcelot waxed so
faint of fighting and travailing, and was so weary of his great deeds,
that he might not lift up his arms for to give one stroke, so that he
wend never to have borne arms: and then they all took him and led him
away into a forest, and there made him to alight and to rest him. And
then all the fellowship of the castle were overcome for the default of
him, and then they said all unto Sir Launcelot, Blessed be God that ye
be now of our fellowship, for we shall hold you in our prison. And so
they left him with few words. And then Sir Launcelot made great
sorrow,—For never or now was I never at tournament nor justs but I had
the best, and now I am shamed. And then he said, Now I am sure that I
am more sinfuller than ever I was. Thus he rode sorrowing, and half a
day was he out of despair, till that he came into a deep valley, and
when Sir Launcelot saw he might not ride up into the mountain, he there
alight under an apple-tree, and there he left his helm and his shield,
and put his horse unto pasture. And then he laid him down to sleep. And
then him thought there came an old man afore him, the which said, Ah,
Launcelot, of evil faith and poor belief, wherefore is thy will turned
so lightly towards thy deadly sin? And when he had said thus he
vanished away, and Launcelot wist not where he was become. Then he took
his horse, and armed him. And as he rode by the way he saw a chapel,
where was a recluse, which had a window that she might see up to the
altar. And all aloud she called Launcelot, for that he seemed a knight
errant. And then he came, and she asked him what he was, and of what
place, and where about he went to seek.