The best of all his company,
To hold the parley with the king.

Sir Mordred also charged his host,
In readiness there for to be;
But no man should his weapon stir,
But if a sword drawn they should see.

For he durst not his uncle trust,

Nor he his nephew, sooth to tell,— Alack! it was a woeful case,

As e'er in Christenty befell.

But when they were together met,

And both to fair accordance brought, And a month's league between them set, Before the battle should be fought.

An adder crept forth from a bush,

Stung one of the king's knights on the knee;— Alack! it was a woeful chance

As ever was in Christenty.

When the knight found him wounded sore,
And saw the wild worm hanging there,
His sword he from his scabbard drew-
A piteous case, as ye shall hear!

For when the two hosts saw the sword,
They joined battle instantly;

Till of so many noble knights,

On one side there was left but three.

For all were slain that durst abide,

And but some few that fled away

Ah me! it was a bloody field,

As e'er was fought in summer's day.

Upon King Arthur's own party,

Only himself escaped there,

And Lukyn, Duke of Glo'ster free,
And the king's butler, Bedevere.

And when the king beheld his knights
All dead and scattered on the mould,
The tears fast trickled down his face,-
That manly face, in fight so bold.

Now rest ye all, brave knights! he said,
So true and faithful to your trust,
And must ye then, ye valiant hearts!
Be left to moulder into dust?

Most loyal have ye been to me!

Most true and faithful, unto death!

And oh! to raise ye up again,

How freely could I yield my breath.

But see! the traitor 's yet alive;

Lo! where he stalks among the dead; Now bitterly he shall abide,

And vengeance fall upon his head.

O stay, my liege, then said the Duke-
O stay, for love and charity;
Remember what the vision spake,
Nor meet your foe, if it

may

be.

O stay me not, thou worthy wight,
This debt my loyal knights I owe,
Betide me life, betide me death,
I will avenge them of their foe.

Then straight he grasped his trusty spear,
And on his horse then mounted he,-
As his butler helped him to his horse,
His bowels gushed to his knee.

Alas! then said the noble king,
That I should live this sight to see-

To see this good knight here be slain,
All for his love in helping me.

He put his spear into his rest,

And to Sir Mordred loud 'gan cry,
Now set thyself upon thy guard,

For traitor, now thy death is nigh.

Sir Mordred lifted up his sword,

And fierce to meet the king ran he;
The king his spear he through him thrust
A fathom full through his body.

When Mordred felt the stroke of death,
And found that he was wounded so,

He thrust himself upon the spear,
And struck the king a deadly blow.

Then grimly died Sir Mordred,
Presently upon that tree,

And bloody streams came from the king,
Ere to the duke returned he.

Sir Lukyn then he thus bespake,-
Sir knight thou hast been faithful tried

Now take my sword Excalibar,

That hangs so freely by my side.

O take my sword Excalibar,*
And there into the river throw;
For here, henceforth, beneath this tree,
All use of weapons I forego.

And fare thee well, thou trusty sword
A better never had valiant knight,
With these full oft, and many a day,

Have I withstood my foe in fight.

* Elsewhere called Caliburn, a name familiar to romance and chivalry.

With this good falchion in my hand,
Oft have I reaped the bloody field;
But now the fatal hour is come

That never more I may thee wield.

The duke to the river side he went,
And there his own sword in threw he;
But he kept back Excalibar,

He kept it back in privity.

For all of coleyne * was the blade,
And all the hilt of precious stone;
And ever alack, then said the knight,
Must such a sword away be thrown?

Then back he came unto the king,

Who said, Sir Lukyn, what did ye see?
Nothing, my liege, save that the wind
Blew over the waters fair and free.

O go again, then said the king;

O good Sir Lukyn, go again,—

Into the river throw my sword,

Nor keep me lingering here in pain.

The duke then to the river went,

And the king's scabbard in threw he;

But he kept back Excalibar,

And hid it underneath a tree.

Then back he came to tell the king,

Who said, Sir Lukyn, saw you ought ?———

Nothing, my liege, save that the wind
Now with the angry waters fought.

O Lukyn! Lukyn! said the king,

Twice hast thou dealt deceitfully,

*Cologne; from whence, at the date of writing this ballad, the best-attempered swords of BLUE STEEL were exported to foreign countries.-ED.

Alack! whom may we ever trust,
When such a knight so false can be.

Say, wouldst thou have thy master dead,
All for a sword that wins thine eye!
Now go again, and throw it in,

Or here the one of us shall die.

The duke all shent with this rebuke,
No answer made unto the king;
But to the river took the sword,

And threw it far as he could fling.

A Hand and an Arm did meet the sword,
And flourished three times in the air,
Then sunk beneath the running stream,
And of the duke was seen no mair.

All sore astonished stood the duke,

He stood as still, as still mote be;
Then hastened back to tell the King,
--But he was gone from under the tree.

But to what place he could not tell,
For never after he did him spy;
But he saw a barge go from the land,
And he heard ladies howl and cry.

And whether the King were there or not,
He never knew, nor ever could,
For from that sad and direful day,

PERCY.

He never more was seen on mould.

* Ladies was the old English term for nymphs, either of forest, mountain, or stream. -PERCY.