“For the old Priest which was so tumbled among them that his face lay upon a boys bare ass, which belike was fallen headlong under him was so astonished; then when the boy (which for fear beshit himself) had raised his face, he neither felt nor smelt it nor removed from him.” […]
“Ceasar’s sword glanced off Nennius’ helmet and cut into his shield so deeply that, when they had to abandon their hand-to-hand fight because of the troops who crowded in on them, the Emperor could not wrench his sword out.” […]
“Then Sir Gawain on his gray steed
Gripped a great spear and speedily spiked him;
Through the guts and gore his weapon glided
Till the sharpened steel sliced into his heart.” […]
“His dagger with the other hand drew out,
In spite of all his men so throng about,
And boldly without either fear or dread,
Upon the spot he stick’d young Selbie dead.” […]
“When he was a boy he exercised his father’s trade, but when he killed a calf he would do it in a high style, and make a speech.” […]
“He raised his shield by the ‘enarmes,’ and struck one of the Englishmen with his lance on the breast, so that the iron passed out at his back. At the moment that he fell, the lance broke, and the Frenchman seized the mace that hung at his right side, and struck the other Englishman a blow that completely fractured his skull.” […]
“But I minding another thing, and seeing that scratching could not move him, suddenly I leapt up and caught him by the genitals with my teeth, and bit so hard, that at last he cried out.” […]
“. It seemed to him that the goddess stood before him and spoke these words to him: “Brutus, beyond the setting of the sun, past the realms of Gaul, there lies an island in the sea, once occupied by giants. Now it is empty and ready for your folk.” […]
“Sinking his sword half a foot through the skin
So the hulk’s blood poured hot across the hilt;
Through the bladder and bowels he drove that blow,
Piercing his privates ripping them apart.” […]
“It appears that whatever Geoffrey has written either of Arthur, or his successors, or predecessors, is a fiction, invented either by himself or by others, and promulgated either through an unchecked propensity to falsehood, or a desire to please the Britons, of whom vast numbers are said to be so stupid as to assert that Arthur is yet to come.” […]
Copyright © 2017 - 2020 | Echoes of Dead Worlds
