told the King, he sent for the count, let him
understand that he had heard of his menaces, then gave him a fine horse,
bid him begone immediately, and defied him to do his worst.

[Footnote 14: There is so much pleasantry and humour, as well as spirit
and heroism in this story, as we have it recorded by William de
Malmesbury, who represents the menace as thrown out in the King's
presence, that I shall make no apology for setting down his words at
length. "Auctor turbarum Helias capitur; cui ante se adducto rex
ludibundus, 'Habeo te, magister,' inquit. At ille, cujus alta nobilitas
nesciret in tanto etiam periculo sapere; 'Fortuitu,' inquit, 'me
cepisti: sed si possem evadere, novi quid facerem.' Tum Willelmus, prae
furore fere extra se positus, et obuncans Heliam, 'Tu,'inquit, 'nebulo!
tu, quid faceres? Discede; abi; fuge! Concede tibi ut facias quicquid
poteris: et, per vultum de Luca! nihil, si me viceris, pro hac venia
tecum paciscar." _I.e._ By the face of St. Luke, if thou shouldst have
the fortune to conquer me, I scorn to compound with thee for my release.
[D.S.]]

It would have been an injury to this prince's memory, to let pass an
action, by which he acquired more honour than from any other in his
life, and by which it appeared that he was not without some seeds of
magnanimity, had they been better cultivated, or not overrun by the
number or prevalency of his vices.

I have met with nothing else in this King's reign that deserved to be
remembered; for, as to an unsuccessful expedition or two against Wales,
either by himself or his generals; they were very inconsiderable both in
action and event, nor attended with any circumstances that might render
a relation of them of any use to posterity, either for instruction or
example.

His death was violent and unexpected, the effect of casualty; although
this perhaps is the only misfortune of life to which the person of a
prince is generally less subject than that of other men. Being at his
beloved exercise of hunting in the New Forest in Hampshire, a large stag
crossed the way before him, the King hot on his game, cried out in haste
to Walter Tyrrel, a knight of his attendants, to shoot; Tyrrel,
immediately let fly his arrow, which glancing against a tree, struck the
King through the heart, who fell dead to the ground without speaking a
word. Upon the surprise of this accident, all his attendants, and
Tyrrel[15] among the rest, fled different ways; until the frigh