The story of England

¶ De bello inter Regem Arthurum & ffrollum.

When þey were armed & redy dight, & were comen þer þey schold fyght, Men myght þer [men mot.] se folk tremble & quake, . On boþe partis gret deol to make, Line 10,836 Handes wrynge, on knes to [wreng on knees.] falle, On Godes name to crie & calle, ' Þat he myght wynne, þat pes wold haue, ' & þe lond fro werre myght saue.' Line 10,840 Arþures folk stode & byheld, Redy [digh]t [A long piece has been torn out of the MS. The gaps are filled in from the Petyt MS., except as noted below.] wyþ helm & scheld, & by[sought]e God inderly [praied god interly.] To [graunt] Arþur þe maistri. Line 10,844 Þy[se two] knyghtes þat forþ were fet, N[obilly di]ght, on horse wel set, T[o assay]e þem how þey were wyght, [Þe lanc]e to reyse, þer scheld to ryght. Line 10,848 [Who myg]hte [ho mot.] wel telle, & soþ to seye, [Þat sui]lk [Suilk.] wer non þat tyme als þey;

[Ilk o]f þeym was horsed wel, . [Had a]rmes [in armes.] stronge as any stel; Line 10,852 By sight myght non þer chese þe best, [Lambeth folio 47a:2] Ne whilk þen semed doughtiest; Ne whilk schold wynne, ne haue þe gre, . By sighte myghte þer non hit se. [ll. 10,855-10,856. The Petyt MS. leaves out this line.] Line 10,856

When þey were bone, redy to smite, & þer hors [horses.] sondred a lyte, Wyþ speres þey smot, [MS. snot. P. smote.] þe bridel brayd, Þer scheldes sette, þer launces [on lance.] forþ layd; Line 10,860 Þer horses at þer power runnen, Þe partis wende haue [all.] [Petyt folio 64b:1] lorn or wonnen; But ffrolle failled of his dynt,— I trowe his stede a syde stynt,— Line 10,864 & Arthur smot hym in þe scheld. Þe hed [Iren.] was god, & ful wel held, & ffrolle out of his sadel cast So fer so þe launce might last. Line 10,868 ffrolle vp stirte, & sydlynges glent, His scheld dressed, his launce vp [schelde dight his lance he.] hent; Til Arþures stede þe point he bar, Þorow þe breste þe herte he [it.] schar. Line 10,872 Arþur fel; he moste nede; He was a fote, ded was his stede. Þe Bretons seye he had þat fal, Þem þoughte for wo þey al to-swal, [to sualle.] Line 10,876 Þe erþe dunede [stonyed.] for þeir cry, To passe þe water þey were redy, Þe trewes to breke þey were ful wylde, To haue gon ouer in to þe ilde; Line 10,880

Line 10,880 But þey sawe hym sone vp a-geyn; Þey wyþstod þen, & were fayn. When he was vp, he hadde no rest, . Wyþ ffrolle to fighte he was ful prest, Line 10,884 He leyde his hand to Caliborne, Þat neuere for armes wolde scurne. Þer-wyþ on ffrolle ful sore he sought, & ffrolle a-geyn ne dredde hym nought; Line 10,888 Agayn Arthur he stod & stynt, Nought abaischt hym for [abaist for him.] no dynt; His swerd had drawen, he lyft hit heye, On Arþur he let hit sore fleye: Line 10,892 Þe dynt was gret, for he was strong, Þe fir out fley, þe sparkles sprong, Þe helm he claf, & þe basyn, & þe coyfe þat was so fyn. Line 10,896 Þe swerd was scharp, & ful wel bot, In þe forehed Arþur he smot, Þorow þe flesche, vnto þe pan; After þe strok þe blod out ran. Line 10,900