When Arthur was certified of the greatness of his power, and
of the harness of his men, he wrote letters to each of his captains,
commanding him that on an appointed day he should come in ships to
Barfleur in Normandy. The lords of his baronage, who had repaired from
the court to their fiefs, hastened to make ready with those whom they
should bring across the sea. In like manner Arthur pushed on with his
business, that nothing should hinder or delay.
Arthur committed the care of his realm, and of Dame Guenevere, his
wife, to his nephew, Mordred, a marvellously hardy knight, whom Arthur
loved passing well. Mordred was a man of high birth, and of many noble
virtues, but he was not true. He had set his heart on Guenevere, his
kinswoman, but such a love brought little honour to the queen. Mordred
had kept this love close, for easy enough it was to hide, since who
would be so bold as to deem that he loved his uncle's dame? The lady
on her side had given her love to a lord of whom much good was spoken,
but Mordred was of her husband's kin! This made the shame more
shameworthy. Ah, God, the deep wrong done in this season by Mordred
and the queen.
Arthur, having put all the governance in Mordred's power, save only
the crown, went his way to Southampton.
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