e come to a fair end.

The Roman legions recovered from the panic into which they had fallen.
They ranged themselves beneath the golden eagle, and brought succour
to the emperor at the moment of his utmost need. The legions swept
the Britons before them, and won again the field from which they
were driven. Arthur watched the fortunes of the day. He marked the
discomfiture of his host, and hearkened to the triumphant shouts of
the legionaries. He could not, and dared not, wait longer. Arthur
hastened with his chosen company to the battle. He rallied the rout,
crying to the fleeing sergeants, "Whom seek you? Turn about, for it
were better to be slain of the Romans than by your king. I am Arthur,
your captain, and mortal man shall not drive me from the field. Follow
me, for I will open a road, and beware lest the maidens of Britain
hold you as recreant. Call to mind your ancient courage, by which you
have overcome so many proud kings. For my part I will never go from
this field alive, till I have avenged me on my adversaries." Arthur
did wondrously in the eyes of all the people. He struck many a Roman
to the ground. Shield, and hauberk, and helmet he hewed asunder,
heads, arms, and gauntlets were divided by his sword. Excalibur waxed
red that day, for whom Arthur smote he slew. I cannot number the count
of his blows, and every blow a death. For as the ravenous lion deals
with his prey, so likewise did the fair king raven amongst his
enemies. Not one he spared, he turned aside from none. That man he
wounded required no surgeon for his hurt. All the press gave back
before so stark a champion, till in his path stood neither great nor
small. The King of Libya--Sertorius to name--was a lord exceeding
rich. Arthur struck the head from his shoulders. "In an ill hour you
drew from the east to bear arms in this quarrel, and to furnish drink
for Excalibur". But the dead man answered never a word. Polybetes,
King of Bithyma, fought upon his feet. This was a pagan lord, and
passing rich. Arthur found the paynim before him. He smote but one
marvellous blow, and divided his head to the shoulders. Polybetes
crashed to the earth. His soul rushed from his body, and his brains
were spattered about the field. "Roman, speed to your doom," cried
Arthur loudly, in the hearing of all. When the Britons beheld Arthur's
deeds, and hearkened to his high words, they took courage and charged
upon the Romans. The Romans met them boldly with sword and s