Arthur marched to Cornwall, with an immense army.  Modred heard that, and advanced against him with innumerable folk—­there were many fated!  Upon the Tambre they came together; the place hight Camelford, evermore lasted the same word.  And at Camelford was assembled sixty thousand men, and more thousands thereto; Modred was their chief.  Then thitherward gan ride Arthur the mighty, with innumerable folk—­fated though it were!  Upon the Tambre they encountered together; elevated their standards; advanced together; drew their long swords, and smote on the helms; fire out sprang; spears splintered; shields gan shiver; shafts brake in pieces!  There fought all together innumerable folk!  Tambre was in flood with blood to excess; there might no man in the fight know any warrior, nor who did worse, nor who did better, so was the conflict mingled!  For each slew downright, were he swain, were he knight.  There was Modred slain, and deprived of life-day, and all his knights slain in the fight.  There were slain all the brave, Arthur’s warriors, high and low, and all the Britons of Arthur’s board, and all his dependants, of many kingdoms.  And Arthur himself wounded with a broad slaughter-spear; fifteen dreadful wounds he had; in the least one might thrust two gloves!  Then was there no more remained in the fight, of two hundred thousand men that there lay hewed in pieces, except Arthur the king alone, and two of his knights.

Arthur was wounded wondrously much.  There came to him a lad, who was of his kindred; he was Cador’s son, the Earl of Cornwall; Constantine the lad hight, he was dear to the king.  Arthur looked on him, where he lay on the ground, and said these words, with sorrowful heart:  “Constantine, thou art welcome; thou wert Cador’s son.  I give thee here my kingdom, and defend thou my Britons ever in thy life, and maintain them all the laws that have stood in my days, and all the good laws that in Uther’s days stood.  And I will fare to Avalun, to the fairest of all maidens, to Argante the queen, an elf most fair, and she shall make my wounds all sound; make me all whole with healing draughts.  And afterwards I will come again to my kingdom, and dwell with the Britons with mickle joy.”

Even with the words there approached from the sea that was a short boat, floating with the waves; and two women therein, wondrously formed; and they took Arthur anon, and bare him quickly, and laid him softly down, and forth they gan depart.

Then was it accomplished that Merlin whilom said, that mickle care should be of Arthur’s departure.  The Britons believe yet that he is alive, and dwelleth in Avalun with the fairest of all elves; and the Britons ever yet expect when Arthur shall return.  Was never the man born, of ever any lady chosen, that knoweth of the sooth, to say more of Arthur.  But whilom was a sage hight Merlin; he said with words—­his sayings were sooth—­that an Arthur should yet come to help the English.