Accordingly, he insisted on the combat, on pain of treating Sycamore as a craven, and a recreant.

This declaration was reinforced by Dawdle, who told him, that, should he now decline the engagement, all the world would look upon him as an infamous poltroon.
These two observations gave a necessary fillip to the courage of the challenger.

The parties took their stations.

The trumpet sounded to charge, and the combatants began their career with great impetuosity .-- Whether the gleam of Sir Launcelot's arms affrighted Mr.Sycamore's steed, or some other object had an unlucky effect on his eyesight, certain it is he started at about midway, and gave his rider such a violent shake as discomposed his attitude, and disabled him from using his lance to the best advantage.

Had our hero continued his career, with his lance couched, in all probability Sycamore's armour would have proved but a bad defence to his carcase; but Sir Launcelot perceiving his rival's spear unrested, had just time to throw up the point of his own, when the two horses closed with such a shock, that Sycamore, already wavering in the saddle, was overthrown, and his armour crashed around him as he fell.
The victor, seeing him lie without motion, alighted immediately and began to unbuckle his helmet, in which office he was assisted by the trumpeter.
When the headpiece was removed, the hapless knight of the Griffin appeared in the pale livery of death, though he was only in a swoon, from which he soon recovered by the effect of the fresh air, and the aspersion of cold water, brought from a small pool in the neighbourhood.