When Mordered felt the stroke of death, And found that he was wounded soe; 110 He thruste himselfe upon the speare, And strucke the king a deadlye blowe.
Then grimmlye dyed sir Mordered, Presentlye upon that tree: And bloody streames ranne from the kinge 115 Ere to the duke returned hee.
Sir Lukyn then he thus bespake, Sir knighte, thou hast beene faithfulle tryde, Nowe take my sword Excalibar,[62] That hangs so freelye by my syde: 120
O take my sword Excalibar, And there into the river throwe: For here, henceforth, benethe this tree, All use of weapons I foregoe.
[And fare thee well, thou trustye sword, 125 A better neer had valiant knighte, With thee full ofte, and manye a daye, Have I withstood my foe in fighte.
With this good fauchion in my hande, Oft have I reapd the bloody feelde: 130 But nowe the fatalle houre is come, That never more I may thee weelde.]
The duke to the river side he went, And there his owne sword in threwe he: But he kept back Excalibar, 135 He kept it back in privitie.
[For all of coleyne[63] was the blade; And all the hilte of precious stone: And ever alacke! then sayd the knighte, Must such a sword awaye be throwne?] 140
Then backe he came unto the kinge, Who sayd, Sir Lukyn, what did yee see? Nothing, my liege, save that the winde Blewe oer the waters faire and free.
O goe againe, then said the kinge, 145 O good sir Lukyn, goe againe: Into the rivere throwe my sword, Nor keepe me lingering here in paine.
The duke then to the river went, And the kings scabberd in threwe hee; 150 But hee kept backe Excalibar, And hid it undernethe a tree.
Then backe he came to tell the kinge, Who sayde, Sir Lukyn sawe ye oughte? Nothinge, my liege, save that the winde 155 Nowe with the angrye waters fought.
O Lukyn, Lukyn, said the kinge, [Twice haste thou dealt deceytfullye: Alacke, whom may wee ever truste, When suche a knighte soe false can bee? 160
Saye, wouldst thou have thy master dead; All for a sword, that wins thine eye: Nowe goe againe, and throwe it in, Or here the one of us shall dye.]
The duke, all shent with this rebuke, 165 No aunswere made unto the kinge: But to the rivere tooke the sworde, And threwe it far as he coulde flinge.
A hande and an arme did meete the sworde, And flourishd three times in the air; 170 [Then sunke benethe the renninge streme, And of the duke was seene noe mair.