He rallied the rout,
crying to the fleeing sergeants, "Whom seek you? Turn about, for it
were better to be slain of the Romans than by your king. I am Arthur,
your captain, and mortal man shall not drive me from the field. Follow
me, for I will open a road, and beware lest the maidens of Britain
hold you as recreant. Call to mind your ancient courage, by which you
have overcome so many proud kings. For my part I will never go from
this field alive, till I have avenged me on my adversaries." Arthur
did wondrously in the eyes of all the people. He struck many a Roman
to the ground. Shield, and hauberk, and helmet he hewed asunder,
heads, arms, and gauntlets were divided by his sword. Excalibur waxed
red that day, for whom Arthur smote he slew. I cannot number the count
of his blows, and every blow a death. For as the ravenous lion deals
with his prey, so likewise did the fair king raven amongst his
enemies. Not one he spared, he turned aside from none. That man he
wounded required no surgeon for his hurt. All the press gave back
before so stark a champion, till in his path stood neither great nor
small. The King of Libya--Sertorius to name--was a lord exceeding
rich. Arthur struck the head from his shoulders.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255