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Layamon

"Brut"

All day there
were blows most rife; the folk fell to ground, and wrought
destruction; the angry warriors sought the grass-bed; the helms
resounded, murmured earls; shields there shivered, warriors gan fall.
Then called Arthur, noblest of kings: "Where be ye, my Britons, my
bold thanes? The day it forth goeth; this folk against us standeth.
Cause we to glide to them sharp darts enow, and teach them to ride the
way toward Rome!" Even with the words that Arthur then said, he sprang
forth on steed, as spark doth of fire. Fifty thousand were following
him; the hardy warriors rushed to the fight, and smote upon Frolle,
where he was in the flock, and brought him to flight, with his mickle
folk; there slew Arthur much folk and innumerable.
Then fled into Paris Frolle the powerful, and fastened the gates, with
grief enow; and these words said, sorrowful in heart: "Liefer were it
to me, that I were not born!" Then were in Paris grievous speeches,
full surely, sorrowful cries; burghmen gan to tremble; the walls they
gan repair, the gates they gan to form; meat they took, all that they
came nigh; on each side they carried it to the burgh; thither came
they all, that held with Frolle.


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