Arthur lay at Whitsand; a fortnight seemed to him too long; and Modred
knew all what Arthur there would; each day came messengers to him from
the king's army. Then befell it on a time, much rain it gan to rain,
and the wind it gan to turn, and stood from the east end. And Arthur
proceeded to ship with all his host, and ordered that his shipmen
should bring him to Romney, where he thought to come up into this
land. When he came to the haven, Modred was opposite to him, as the
day gan light, they began to fight, all the day long; many a man dead
there lay! Some they fought on land, some by the strand; some they let
fly sharp spears out of the ships. Walwain went before, and cleared
the way; and slew there soon eleven thanes; he slew Childrich's son,
who was come there with his father. To rest went the sun; woe was then
to the men! There was Walwain slain, and deprived of life-day, through
a Saxish earl--sorry be his soul! Then was Arthur sorry, and sorrowful
therefore in heart; and these words said, mightiest of all Britons:
"Now I have lost my loved swains! I knew by my dream, what sorrow were
given to me! Slain is Angel the king, who was mine own darling, and
Walwain, my sister's son--woe is me that I was born man! Up now from
ship, quickly, my brave knights!"
Even with the words sixty thousand good warriors pressed anon to the
fight, and brake Modred's ranks, and well nigh himself was taken.
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