I say no more, for I fear to translate Merlin's Prophecies,
when I cannot be sure of the interpretation thereof. It is good to
keep my lips from speech, since the issue of events may make my gloss
a lie.
The king praised Merlin greatly, and esteemed him for a true prophet.
He inquired of the youth in what hour he should die, and by what means
he would come to his end. For this king was marvellously fearful of
death. "Beware," said Merlin, "beware of the sons of Constantine. By
them you shall taste of death. Already have they left Armorica with
high hearts, and even now are upon the sea. Be certified of this, that
their fleet of fourteen galleys comes to land on the morrow. Much evil
hast thou done to them; much evil will they do to thee, and avenge
them of their wrongs. In an ill day you betrayed their brother to his
death: in an ill day you set the crown on your head; in an ill day, to
your own most bitter loss, you entreated this Saxon heathenry to your
help. You are as a man against whom arrows are loosed, both this side
and that; and I know not whether your shield should be arrayed to left
or to right. On the one road the Saxon host draws near, eager to do
you a mischief. Along this other comes the rightful heirs, to pluck
the realm from your hand, the crown from your head, and to exact the
price of their brother's blood.
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