And never was there seen a dolefuller battle in Christian land. . .

1

And thus they fought all the long day, and never stinted till the noble knights were laid to the cold ground, and ever they fought still till it was near night, and by that time was there a hundred thousand laid dead upon the down. Then was King Arthur wroth out of measure when he saw his people so slain from him. Then the king looked about him, and then was he ware that of all his host, and of his good knights, were left no more alive but two knights: that were Sir Lucan the butler, and Sir Bedivere, his brother, and they were full sore wounded.

"Jesu, mercy," said the king; "where are all my noble knights become? Alas! that ever I should see this doleful day; for now," said Arthur, "I am come unto mine end. But would to God that I wist where were that traitor, Sir Mordred, which hath caused all this mischief!"

Then was King Arthur ware where Sir Mordred leaned upon his sword, among a great heap of dead men. "Now give me my spear," said Arthur to Sir Lucan, "for yonder I have espied the traitor that all this woe hath wrought."

And when Sir Mordred heard Sir Arthur, he ran unto him with his sword drawn in his hand, and then King Arthur smote Sir Mordred under the shield with a foin2 of his spear, throughout the body more than a fathom. And when Sir Mordred felt that he had his death's wound, he thrust himself with all the might that he had up to the bur of King Arthur's spear. And right so he smote his father Arthur with his sword holden in both his hands, on the side of the head, that the sword pierced the helmet and the brain-pan, and therewith Sir Mordred fell down stark

1 stint, to cease.

2 foin, a pass; a lunge.

3

holden, held.

dead to the earth. And the noble King Arthur fell in a swoon to the earth, and there he swooned ofttimes. And Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere ofttimes heaved him up, and so weakly they led him between them both to a little chapel, not far from the seaside.

How King ARTHUR commanded to cast his Sword Excalibur into the water, and how he was delivered to Ladies in a Barge.

"But my time hieth fast," said King Arthur unto Sir Bedivere. "Therefore take thou Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it to yonder waterside; and when thou comest there, I charge thee throw my sword into that water, and come again and tell me what thou there seest."

"My lord," said Sir Bedivere, "your commandment shall be done, and lightly bring you word again."

So Sir Bedivere departed, and by the way he beheld that noble sword, that the pommel and the haft were all of precious stones. And then he said to himself, "If I throw this rich sword into the water, thereof shall never come good, but harm and loss." And then Sir Bedivere hid Excalibur under a tree, and so as soon as he might he came again unto the king, and said he had been at the water, and had thrown the sword into the water.

"What saw thou there?" said the king.

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Sir," said he, "I saw nothing but waves and wind." "That is untruly said of thee," said the king, "therefore go thou lightly again, and do my commandment, as thou art to me lief and dear; spare not, but throw in."

Then Sir Bedivere returned again, and took the sword in his hand; and then he thought it sin and shame to throw away that noble sword: and so again he hid the

sword, and returned again, and told to the king that he had been at the water and done his commandment.

"What saw ye there?" said the king.

Sir," said he, "I saw nothing but the water leap and the waves wan." 1

"Ah! traitor untrue," said King Arthur, "now hast thou betrayed me two times. Who would have weened that thou, that hast been unto me so self and dear, and that art named a noble knight, wouldst betray me for the riches of the sword. But now go again lightly, for thy long tarrying putteth me in great jeopardy of my life, for I have taken cold. And but if thou do now as I bid thee, if ever I may see thee, I shall slay thee with mine own hands, for thou wouldest for my rich sword see me dead."

Then Sir Bedivere departed, and went to the sword, and lightly took it up and went to the waterside and there he bound the girdle about the hilts, and then he threw the sword into the water as far as he might, and there came an arm and a hand above the water, and met it, and caught it, and so shook it thrice and brandished. And then the hand vanished away with the sword in the water.

So Sir Bedivere came again to the king, and told him what he had seen. "Alas!" said the king, "help me from hence; for I dread me I have tarried over long."

Then Sir Bedivere took the king upon his back, and so I went with him to that water side. And when they were at the water side, even fast by the bank hoved a little barge, with many fair ladies in it; and among them all was a queen, and all they had black hoods; and they wept and shrieked when they saw King Arthur.

"Now put me into the barge," said the king; and so he

did softly. And there received him three queens with great mourning, and so they sat them down, and in one of their laps King Arthur laid his head. And then that queen said, "Ah! dear brother, why have ye tarried so long from me? Alas! this wound on your head hath taken overmuch cold." And so then they rowed from the land; and Sir Bedivere beheld all those ladies go from him.

Then Sir Bedivere cried, "Ah, my lord Arthur, what shall become of me now ye go from me, and leave me here alone among mine enemies?"

"Comfort thyself," said the king, "and do as well as thou mayest; for in me is no trust for to trust in. For I will into the vale of Avilion, to heal me of my grievous wound. And if thou hear never more of me, pray for my soul."

But evermore the queens and the ladies wept and shrieked, that it was pity to hear. And as soon as Sir Bedivere had lost sight of the barge, he wept and wailed, and so took the forest, and so he went all the night; and, in the morning, he was ware, between two hills, of a chapel and an hermitage.

Mor'dred, Arthur's son, who treacherously usurped the crown in Arthur's absence.

bur, a ring of iron on the handle of a lance or spear.

haft, a handle.

A vil'ion, in old English mythology, the name of the Land of the Blessed, an earthly paradise in the western seas.

He that has light within his own clear breast,
May sit i' the centre and enjoy bright day;

But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts,

Benighted walks under the midday sun. -JOHN MILTON.