, he did right mightily and nobly
as a king should do, and ever, like a lion, raged in the thickest of the
press, and slew on the right hand and on the left, till his horse went
fetlock deep in blood. So all day long they fought, and stinted not till
many a noble knight was slain.

But the king was passing sorrowful to see his trusty knights lie dead on
every side. And at the last but two remained beside him, Sir Lucan, and
his brother, Sir Bedivere, and both were sorely wounded.

"Now am I come to mine end," said King Arthur; "but, lo! that traitor
Modred liveth yet, and I may not die till I have slain him. Now, give me
my spear, Sir Lucan."

"Lord, let him be," replied Sir Lucan; "for if ye pass through this
unhappy day, ye shall be right well revenged upon him. My good lord,
remember well your dream, and what the spirit of Sir Gawain did forewarn
ye."

"Betide me life, betide me death," said the king; "now I see him yonder
alone, he shall never escape my hands, for at a better vantage shall I
never have him."

"God speed you well," said Sir Bedivere.

Then King Arthur got his spear in both his hands, and ran towards Sir
Modred, crying, "Traitor, now is thy death-day come!" And when Sir Modred
heard his words, and saw him come, he drew his sword and stood to meet
him. Then King Arthur smote Sir Modred through the body more than a
fathom. And when Sir Modred felt he had his death wound, he thrust himself
with all his might up to the end of King Arthur's spear, and smote his
father, Arthur, with his sword upon the head, so that it pierced both helm
and brain-pan.

And therewith Sir Modred fell down stark dead to the earth, and King
Arthur fell down also in a swoon, and swooned many times.

Then Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere came and bare him away to a little chapel
by the sea-shore. And there Sir Lucan sank down with the bleeding of his
own wounds, and fell dead.

And King Arthur lay long in a swoon, and when he came to himself, he found
Sir Lucan lying dead beside him, and Sir Bedivere weeping over the body of
his brother.

Then said the king to Sir Bedivere, "Weeping will avail no longer, else
would I grieve for evermore. Alas! now is the fellowship of the Round
Table dissolved for ever, and all my realm I have so loved is wasted with
war. But my time hieth fast, wherefore take thou Excalibur, my good sword,
and go therewith to yonder water-side and throw it in, and bring me word
what thing thou seest."

S