With those fierce sounds of battle in mine ears.
Quick! my sword! mine old strength cometh back.
(A Squire hands him his sword, he leaps to his feet. The battle comes near and they are all borne out fighting. Re-enter Gwaine borne by Soldiers and the Leech.)
Leech. I told thee thou wouldst die.
Gwaine. And so wilt thou some day, and like a milksop, i’ thy bed.
’Twas a poor prophesy though a sure one. It is naught.
Turn me over. Yea, I wedged some skulls, and clipped
Damned Mordred’s wings o’ some pen-feathers.
Enter Arthur.