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Chapter XIV
Andwhenthekingsawtherewasnohopetostaythem,hedidrightmightilyandnoblyasakingshoulddo,andever,likealion,ragedinthethickestofthepress,andslewontherighthandandontheleft,tillhishorsewentfetlockdeepinblood.Soalldaylongtheyfought,andstintednottillmanyanobleknightwasslain.
Butthekingwaspassingsorrowfultoseehistrustyknightsliedeadoneveryside.Andatthelastbuttworemainedbesidehim,SirLucan,andhisbrother,SirBedivere,andbothweresorelywounded.
“NowamIcometomineend,”saidKingArthur;“but,lo!thattraitorModredlivethyet,andImaynotdietillIhaveslainhim.Now,givememyspear,SirLucan.”
“Lord,lethimbe,”repliedSirLucan;“forifyepassthroughthisunhappyday,yeshallberightwellrevengeduponhim.Mygoodlord,rememberwellyourdream,andwhatthespiritofSirGawaindidforewarnye.”
“Betidemelife,betidemedeath,”saidtheking;“nowIseehimyonderalone,heshallneverescapemyhands,foratabettervantageshallIneverhavehim.”
“Godspeedyouwell,”saidSirBedivere.
ThenKingArthurgothisspearinbothhishands,andrantowardsSirModred,crying,“Traitor,nowisthydeath-daycome!”AndwhenSirModredheardhiswords,andsawhimcome,hedrewhisswordandstoodtomeethim.ThenKingArthursmoteSirModredthroughthebodymorethanafathom.
