Afford him fear, nor Arthur’s yield him hope.
This passion lasts not long: he soon recalls
His ancient guise, and wonted rage returns.
He loathes delays, and scorch’d with sceptre’s lust,
The time and place, wherein he oft had wish’d
To hazard all upon extremest chance,
He offer’d spies, and spied pursues with speed.
Then both the armies met with equal might,
This stirr’d with wrath, that with desire to rule,
And equal prowess was a spur to both.