And soone at Sandwiche I arrivde,[82]
Where Mordred me withstoode: 70
But yett at last I landed there,
With effusion of much blood.
For there my nephew sir Gawaine dyed,
Being wounded in that sore,[83]
The whiche sir Lancelot in fight[84] 75
Had given him before.
Thence chased I Mordered away,
Who fledd to London right,
From London to Winchester, and
To Cornewalle tooke his flyght.[85] 80
And still I him pursued with speed
Till at the last we mett:
Whereby an appointed day of fight[86]
Was there agreed and sett.[87]
Where we did fight, of mortal life[88] 85
Eche other to deprive,[88]
Till of a hundred thousand men
Scarce one was left a live.
There all the noble chivalrye
Of Brittaine tooke their end. 90
O see how fickle is their state
That doe on feates depend![89][90]
There all the traiterous men were slaine
Not one escapte away;
And there dyed all my vallyant knightes. 95
Alas! that woefull day![91]
Two and twenty yeere I ware the crowne
In honor and great fame;
And thus by death was suddenlye
Deprived of the same. 100