By
thirties and forties, by fifties, by sixties, by hundreds and by
legions, the captains apparelled the battle. In troops and in
thousands the horsemen pricked to their appointed place. Multitudes
of spearmen, multitudes of riders, were ranged in close order, and
by hill and valley were despatched against Arthur's host. One mighty
company, owning fealty to Rome and employed in the service of the
emperor, descended within the valley. Another great company assaulted
the Britons where they lay. Thereat broke forth a loud shrilling of
clarions and sounding of trumpets, whilst the hosts drew together. As
they approached, the archers shot so deftly, the spearmen launched
their darts so briskly, that not a man dared to blink his eye or to
show his face. The arrows flew like hail, and very quickly the melley
became yet more contentious. There where the battle was set you might
mark the lowered lance, the rent and pierced buckler. The ash staves
knapped with a shriek, and flew in splinters about the field. When the
spear was broken they turned to the sword, and plucked the brand from
its sheath. Right marvellous was the melley, and wondrously hideous
and grim. Never did men hew more mightily with the glaive.
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