THE SCENE: King Arthur’s knights clash with their enemies in poetic, alliterative, and bloody terms.
THE TEXT: Then our leader, Valiant, leveled his lance
And with an airing accuracy caught his enemy exactly,
Spiking him through the small rib a span above the waist
So steel and spleen were skewered on the spear.
Blood spurted and spurge to the horse sprang about
Then he sprawled lifeless and spoke no longer
And so Sir Valiant was vindicated and kept his vow
vanquishing that Viscount who vaunted as a victor.
Now Sir Lancelot made ready and then rode in rapidly
At Sir Lucius the Lord and a gruesome blow he landed:
His point pierced the plate and also the chainmail
So the proud pennant impaled in his stomach
And the head stuck out behind half a foot.
Through hauberk and hip went the hefty weapon
So horse and horseman were hurled to the ground,
Then he struck down a standard and steered back to his company.
“I like it,” said Sir Lot, “that those Lords are delivered.
If my Lord will allow, the next lot shall be mine!
My name will mean nothing, either now or tomorrow,
Unless they leap from life who mask there on that land.”
He straightened in his stirrup and strained at his bridle,
Went storming into battle on his stunning steed,
Engaged with a giant and jagged him right through.
Then jolly that gentle giant out jousted another,
Cut a wide swath as he scythed down warriors,
Woefully wounding those who stood in his way.
He fought through the fray for a furlongs length,
Felled many in the field with the force of his weapon,
And had victory in vanquishing valiant knights,
Stampeding through the dale then withdrawing as he pleased.
Thereafter the bold Bowman of Britain
Fought with foot soldiers from foreign lands
Their well-fletched arrows flew at the foe
Piercing the fine mail as far as the feathers.
Such fighting did fearful harm to the flesh.
– The Alliterative Morte D’Arthur, 15th Century AD
