"In an ill hour you
drew from the east to bear arms in this quarrel, and to furnish drink
for Excalibur". But the dead man answered never a word. Polybetes,
King of Bithyma, fought upon his feet. This was a pagan lord, and
passing rich. Arthur found the paynim before him. He smote but one
marvellous blow, and divided his head to the shoulders. Polybetes
crashed to the earth. His soul rushed from his body, and his brains
were spattered about the field. "Roman, speed to your doom," cried
Arthur loudly, in the hearing of all. When the Britons beheld Arthur's
deeds, and hearkened to his high words, they took courage and charged
upon the Romans. The Romans met them boldly with sword and spear,
doing them many and great mischiefs. When Arthur saw that the battle
was stayed, he increased in valour, and did yet more dreadfully with
Excalibur. He slew and cast down divers, so that the ground was
cumbered with the fallen. Lucius, the emperor, for his part, was not
backward in the melley, and avenged himself grievously on the Britons.
Emperor and king, for all their seeking, might not come together.
This was heavy upon them, for each was a very courteous champion. The
battle rolled this way and that, since the contention was passing
perilous.
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