He ran, panting, into the court to find King Arthur alone and he said, "Sire, what must I do to join the other knights on their quest?"
King Arthur said "Well, first you must get yourself some armour - it is dangerous out there!"
So Sir Notalot went off to the chief armourer and said "I need armour to go in search of the Holy Grail - what can you offer me?"
The Armourer said "Well, I can do you the fashionable stainless steel platemail with the expanding cod-piece for 100 livres, the same model in evil-looking iron for 80 livres or the fully rusting chainmail for 60 livres."
Poor Sir Notalot could not afford any of these options, so he said "What can you do for 3 livres?"
The armourer said "If you care to go round the back of the Frog and Bucket ... " (or something like that) "... you will find a large pile of broken, discarded pewter ale tankards. Collect as many as you can and bring them back here and I shall fashion them into armour for you for free."
So, Sir Notalot went to the inn and collected all the pewter mugs he could carry and took them back to the armourer. This good man then proceeded to batter the tankards flat and hang them on strings around Sir Notalot's neck until his whole body was covered. The only problem was that Sir Notalot *clanked* at every step.
Sir Notalot walked back to the court - (clankity-clank, clankity-clank) all the way. He walked into King Arthur's presence to show off his new armour and the King said "That will do, I suppose, but you need a fine charger to ride with the other knights when they leave tomorrow"
Sir Notalot then went to the stables (clankity-clank, clankity-clank) to see what he could ride. The stablemaster said "Well, I have this fine white charger at 100 livres or this slightly smaller dappled mare at 80 livres, or this broken down old nag for 60 livres."
Sir Notalot said "What have you got for 3 livres? That is all I have and I must leave with the other knights tomorrow"
The stablemaster thought for a moment and said "Well, I do have this flea-bitten Saint Bernard which has recently been reprocessed since the former owner couldn't keep up with the brandy consumption - will that do?"
Sir Notalot paid over the money, jumped onto the dog's back and galloped back to the King - dragging his feet in the dust as he went, with his armour clanking along (draggity-clank, draggity-clank).
He reached the King, who said "The others have already headed off to the east."
So, Sir Notalot charged out on his St Bernard, clanking and dragging his feet (clankity-drag, clankity-drag). At that point it started to rain and the water ran inside the hammered pewter pots and down Sir Notalot's legs (clankity-slosh, clankity-slosh), soaking the Saint Bernard as well. The rain became so heavy that the road started to flood and the clankity-slosh noise became more of a sort of a clankity-sploosh noise (clankity-sploosh, clankity-sploosh). And then the thunder and lighting started (*BOOM*). Eventually, Sir Notalot reached the inn where the other knights had stopped for a rest. He rode up to the door (clankity-sploosh, clankity-sploosh) and said to the inn-keeper "Hail, inn-keeper" (since it was hailing by now) "Have you a room?"
And the inn-keeper said "No chance - I am full with these roundish-tablers."
In despair, Sir Notalot pleaded "But surely you have somewhere I can shelter from the storm?" and pointing to his bedraggled Saint Bernard he said:
