‘Give me my spear,’ said King Arthur unto Sir Lucan.
‘Sir, let him be,’ answered Sir Lucan. ‘Remember your dream, and leave off by this. For, blessed be God, you have won the field, and we three be alive, and of the others none is alive save Sir Mordred himself. If you leave off now, the day of destiny is past.’
‘Tide me death, tide me life,’ said the King, ‘he shall not escape my hands, for a better chance I shall never have,’ and he took his spear in both hands and ran towards Sir Mordred, crying ‘Traitor! now is your death day come,’ and smote him under the shield, so that the spear went through his body. And when Sir Mordred felt he had his death wound, he raised himself up and struck King Arthur such a blow that the sword clave his helmet, and then fell stark dead on the earth again. When Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere saw that sight they carried the King to a little chapel, but they hoped not to leave him there long, for Sir Lucan had noted that many people were stealing out to rob the slain of the ornaments on their armour. And those that were not dead already they slew.
‘Would that I could quit this place to go to some large town,’ said the King, when he had heard this, ‘but I cannot stand, my head works so. Ah, Lancelot, sorely have I missed thee.’ At that Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere tried to lift him, but Sir Lucan had been grievously wounded in the fight, and the blood burst forth again as he lifted Arthur, and he died and fell at the feet of the King.
‘Alas!’ said the King, ‘he has died for my sake, and he had more need of help than I. But he would not complain, his heart was so set to help me. And I should sorrow yet more if I were still to live long, but my time flieth fast. Therefore, Sir Bedivere, cease moaning and weeping, and take Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it to yonder water side, and when thou comest there, I charge thee, throw my sword in that water, and come again and tell me what thou hast seen.’
