When the king came to himself, and marked
the shield shattered on his arm, he was marvellously wroth. He raised
his sword and struck full at the giant's brow. The blow was shrewd,
and would have brought the combat to an end had not the giant parried
with his mace. Even so, his head was sorely hurt, and the blood ran
down his face, that he might not see. When the giant knew that he was
wounded to his hurt, he became in his rage as a beast possessed. He
turned grimly on his adversary, even as the boar, torn of the hounds
and mangled by the hunting knife, turns on the hunter. Filled with
ire and malice the giant rushed blindly on the king. Heedless of the
sword, he flung his arms about him, and putting forth the full measure
of his might, bore Arthur to his knees. Arthur was ardent and swift
and ready of wit. He remembered his manhood, and struggled upright on
his feet. He was altogether angered, and fearful of what might hap.
Since strength could not help, he called subtlety to his aid. Arthur
made his body stiff like a rod, and held himself close, for he was
passing strong. He feigned to spring on his foe, but turning aside,
slipped quickly from under the giant's arms. When Arthur knew his
person free of these bands, he passed swiftly to and fro, eluding his
enemy's clasp.
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