r might heart
desire to see battle arrayed more proudly. Never was there a fairer
strife of swords, never a more courteous contention of valiant men.
Plume and helmet were abased to the dust, shields were cloven, the
hauberk rent asunder, ash staves knapped like reeds, girths were
broken, saddles voided, and strong men thrown, and brave men wounded
to the death. The thunder of the shouting filled the field. The
Britons cried as Arthur had taught them, and the Romans answered with
the name of Rome. The one party did all that valiant men were able
to guard their captive in their midst, and the other to pluck their
captain from amongst them. So confused was the contention, so
disordered the combat, that men as they strove together hardly knew
Roman from Briton, friend from foe, save only by the cry they shouted,
and by the tongue they spoke in the stour. Gawain flung himself in the
press, hewing a path towards Boso, with mighty strokes of the sword.
With point and edge, thrust and cut, he beat down many, and put divers
to flight. Not a Roman of them all could prevail against him, nor, so
he might, would strive to hinder him in his road. From another side
of the field Yder set his face to the same end. A woodman was he,
clearing a bloody path amongst the trees. Guerin of Chartres aided him
like a loyal comrade, each covering his fellow with the shield. The
three champions drew before Peredur and Boso, and dragged them to
their feet. They brought a steed to Boso, and gave a sword to his
hand. As for Peredur, the crafty captain who had done them so many and
such great mischiefs, they held him strongly. They carried him from
the press to their own lines for the greater surety. There they left
him, bound, under the charge of trusty warders, and straightway
returned to the battle. Now the Romans had lost their captain. They
were as a ship upon the waters, without a rudder, that drifts here and
there, having neither aim nor direction, at the bidding of the winds
and waves. Such was the plight of the bailly which was spoiled of its
captain, for an army without a constable is less an army than a flock
of sheep. The Britons dealt mercilessly with their beaten foe. They
pressed hardly upon the Romans, smiting down and slaying many. They
made captives of the fallen, stripping them of wealth and armour, and
pursued hotly after the fugitives. These they bound with cords, and
came again in triumph to their companions in the wood, together