Now the way that Sir Launcelot travelled, led somewhat toward that town, wherefore he went along that way with intent to view the place more near by.  So he conveyed by that road for some time without meeting any soul upon the way.  But at last he came of a sudden upon an archer hiding behind an osier tree with intent to shoot the water-fowl that came to a pond that was there—­for he had several such fowl hanging at his girdle.  To him Sir Launcelot said:  “Good fellow, what town is that yonderway?” “Sir,” said the yeoman, “that is called the Town of the Marish because it stands in these Fenlands.  And that castle is called the Castle of the Fenlands for the same reason.”

[Sidenote:  Sir Launcelot talks with a yeoman] Quoth Sir Launcelot:  “What manner of place is that?  Is it a good place, or is it otherwise?” “Sir,” said the archer, “that place was one while a very good, happy place; for in times gone by there was a lord who dwelt there who was both just and noble, and kind to all folk, wherefore he was loved by all the people.  But one night there came two very grim and horrible giants thither from the Welsh Mountains and these entered into the castle by treachery and made prisoner of the lord of the castle.  Him they cast into the dungeon of the castle, where they held him prisoner as an hostage.  For they threaten that if friends of that lord’s should send force against them to dispossess them, they will slay him.  As for any other rescue, there is no knight who dareth to go against them because of their terrible size, and their strength, and their dreadful, horrible countenances.”

“Well,” said Sir Launcelot, “that is a pity and I am sorry for that noble lordling.  Now, since there is no other single knight who dareth to undertake this adventure, I myself will go and encounter these giants.”

“Nay, Sir Knight,” said the yeoman, “do not do so, for they are not like mortal men, but rather like monsters that are neither beast nor man.  Wherefore anyone who beholdeth them, feareth them.”

“Grammercy for thy thought of me, good fellow,” quoth Sir Launcelot, “but if I shall refuse an adventure because I find it perilous, then I am not like to undertake any adventure at all.”

Therewith he bade good den to that yeoman and rode upon his way, directing his course toward that town at an easy pass.

So he came at last to the long bridge that reached from the land to the island, and he saw that at the farther end of the bridge was the gateway of the town and through the arch thereof he could perceive a street of the town, and the houses upon either side of the street, and the people thereof coming and going.

[Sidenote:  Sir Launcelot crosses the bridge to the town] So he rode forth upon the bridge and at the noise of his coming (for the hoofs of his horse sounded like thunder upon the floor of the bridge) the people of the town came running to see who it was that dared to come so boldly into their town.