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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Water of the Wondrous Isles"


Farewell, dear maiden!
Scarce was the word out of his mouth ere his sword was in the air,
and he smote so fierce and straight that he beat down the huge man's
blade, and, ere he could master it again, smote the Red Knight so
heavily on the crest that he fell to his knees; and the heart rose in
me, for I deemed that he might yet prevail; and in as 'twere a flash
I bethought me of the knife at my girdlestead, and drew it and ran to
the Red Knight, and tore aside his mail hood with one hand and thrust
the knife into his shoulder with the other; but so mighty was he that
he heeded nought the hurt, but swept his sword back-handed at the
Black Knight's unarmed leg, and smote him so sore a wound that down
he fell clattering. Then arose the Red Knight, and thrust me from
him with the left hand, and strode over my fellow-farer and thrust
his sword through his throat. Then he turned to me, and spake in a
braying voice as if a harsh horn were blown:
Abide thou; if thou takest one step I will slay thee at once. So he
went and sat down on a bank a little way from the dead man, and wiped
his sword on the grass and laid it beside him, and so sat pondering a
while.


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