There he reigns a mighty king,
Thence to Britain shall return,
If right prophetic rolls I learn,
Borne on victory’s spreading plume,
His ancient sceptre to resume,
His knightly table to restore,
And brave the tournaments of yore.”
After this narration another bard came forward who recited a different story:
“When Arthur bowed his haughty crest,
No princess veiled in azure vest