With that word Bevis smote down
Grander his shield with his falchion,
And his left hand by the wrist,
It fly away through help of Christ.
Though Grander had his shield ilore,
He fought as he were wode therefore;
A gave Bevis strokes that tide,
None nor most other abide.
Bevis there-of was aggrieved
And smote off King Grander his head,
The dead corpse in that throe
Fell out over the saddle bow.
When King Grander was slain,
The seven knights of heathen law
Bevis slew that ilche stounde,
So it is in French I found.

Lines 1767-1782