Sir Launcelot pursued his journey, without being much incommoded
except by the taunts of travellers, who all seemed to have
learned, by some means, his disgraceful drive in the cart. One,
more insolent than the rest, had the audacity to interrupt him
during dinner, and even to risk a battle in support of his
pleasantry. Launcelot, after an easy victory, only doomed him to
be carted in his turn.
At night he was received at another castle, with great apparent
hospitality, but found himself in the morning in a dungeon, and
loaded with chains. Consulting his ring, and finding that this was
an enchantment, he burst his chains, seized his armor in spite of
the visionary monsters who attempted to defend it, broke open the
gates of the tower, and continued his journey. At length his
progress was checked by a wide and rapid torrent, which could only
be passed on a narrow bridge, on which a false step would prove
his destruction. Launcelot, leading his horse by the bridle, and
making him swim by his side, passed over the bridge, and was
attacked as soon as he reached the bank by a lion and a leopard,
both of which he slew, and then, exhausted and bleeding, seated
himself on the grass, and endeavored to bind up his wounds, when
he was accosted by Brademagus, the father of Maleagans, whose
castle was then in sight, and at no great distance.
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