“Lunging at Paris, he grabbed his horsehair crest, swung him round, started to drag him into Argive lines and now the braided chin-strap holding his helmet tight was gouging his soft throat – Paris was choking, strangling.” […]
“They see the Normans meanwhile pressing on from behind, but there was no escape; they go along the banks of the river, seeking for fords and crossings, throwing away their arms and plunder, and cursing their having brought so much. They go straggling and stumbling over the ditches, helping each other forward, the Normans pursuing and sparing no one, till all those who had not crossed the bridge were either taken prisoners, killed, or drowned.” […]
“Then the true royals of the Round Table
With great gusto went galloping against them,
Though in the melees with their middle guard they were ill matched.
What a marvel to see such a massing multitude!” […]
“These valiant men gained the chance they had longed for–to be free to die in battle rather than to perish of hunger–and immediately took arms to kill the generals Lupicinus and Maximus.” […]
“Kolskegg said: ‘No need to look! It’s just as you thought; the leg is off!’ Then Kol fell dead to the ground.” […]
“When he tried to go off, and his horse had begun its course, a knight came pricking, and hit him, striking him with such violence as to stretch him out at full length. And he soon fared still worse than even that; for as he recovered himself, and would have mounted his horse, and had laid his hand on the saddle bow, the throng increased around, and bore him from the saddle, throwing him down; and the horses trod him underfoot, so that they left him there for dead.” […]
“Never in our time were so many men engaged on one battlefield, especially so many horsemen. So many died on either side that it was a marvel to behold.” […]
“Then Zeus no longer held back his might; but straight his heart was filled with fury and he showed forth all his strength. From Heaven and from Olympus he came forthwith, hurling his lightning: the bold flew thick and fast from his strong hand together with thunder and lightning, whirling an awesome flame.” […]
“As ravening fire rips through big stands of timber high on a mountain ridge and the blaze flares miles away, so from the marching troops the blaze of bronze armor, splendid and superhuman, flared across the earth, flashing into the air to hit the skies.” […]
“In the thick of the fighting, Bui and Sigmundur closed on one another in single combat. Bui was the stronger man, but Sigmundur was the quicker and better with a sword. Sigmundur switched his weapon to his other hand, as he could fight equally well with either hand – something which few or no men can do – and in a blinding slash, he cut off one of Bui’s hands at the wrist.” […]
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