At these words of his a certain earl named Subardus with three hundred men turned back and charged down upon him. But Corineus, in raising his shield to ward the blow, forgot not the battle-axe he held in his hand. Lifting it overhead, he smote him a buffet upon the top of his helmet that cleft him right through into two halves. After this, he straightway rusheth
in amongst the rest, whirling his axe, and a passing furious slaughter he maketh. Hurrying hither and thither, he avoideth receiving a single stroke, but never resteth a moment from smiting down his enemies. Of one he loppeth off hand and arm, of another he cleaveth the shoulders from the body, of another he striketh off the head at a single blow, of another he severeth the legs from the thigh. All dash headlong upon him only; he dasheth headlong in upon them all.
Brute, who beholdeth all this, glowing with love of the man, hurrieth forward with a company to succour him. Then ariseth a mighty shouting betwixt the two peoples—the strokes are redoubled, and passing bloody is the slaughter on the one side and the other.
But it endureth not long. The Trojans win the day, and drive King Goffarius and his Poitevins in flight before them. Goffarius, escaping by the skin of his teeth, betook him into the parts of Gaul to have succour of his kinsfolk and acquaintance. At that time twelve kings there were in Gaul, each of equal rank, under whose dominion the whole country was ruled. They all received him kindly, and with one accord did pledge them to drive out from the frontiers of Aquitaine this foreign folk that had arrived there.
Brute, overjoyed at the said victory, enricheth his comrades with the spoils of the slain, and after again forming the ranks in companies, he leadeth his host inland with the intention of sacking the whole country and loading his ships with the countless treasure. Accordingly, he burneth the cities in all directions, fire after fire, and ransacketh their hidden hoards; even
the fields were laid waste, and citizen and countryman alike and subjected to a piteous slaughter, his aim being to exterminate the unhappy race to the last man. But after that he had thus visited with bloodshed well-nigh the whole of Aquitaine, he came into the place where now standeth the city of Tours, which, as Homer beareth witness, he afterwards himself builded. Finding, after diligent survey that the place was convenient as a refuge, he there decided to pitch his camp, so that if need were he could betake him thereinto. For sore misgiving had he by reason of the arrival of Goffarius, who had marched into the neighborhood along with the Kings and Princes of Gaul and a mighty host of armed warriors to do battle against him. When his camp was fully finished, he awaited Goffarius for two days therein, confident alike in his own prudence and in the hardihood of the young men whereof he was the chieftain.
Now, when Goffarius heard of the Trojans being there, he advanced by forced marches day and night until he came well within sight of Brute's camp. Gazing grimly thereon, yet somewhat smiling withal, he burst forth into these words:
"Alas! what grievous destiny is here? Have these ignoble exiles pitched their camp within dominions of mine? To arms, ye warriors, to arms! and charge through their serried ranks! Right soon may we take captive this herd of half-men like sheep and hold them in bondage throughout our realm."
Forthwith, all they that he had brought with him leapt to arms, and marched upon their enemies ranked
in twelve battalions. But not after any woman wise did Brute range his men and march to meet them. Prudently instructing his troops as to what they were to do, how to advance and in what order to hold their ground, he gives the word to charge.