Morvan, beside himself with rage, and at the head of his most devoted followers, rushed down upon the Franks as if to demolish them at a single stroke; and many fell beneath his blows.

He singled out a warrior of inferior grade, towards whom he made at a gallop, and, insulting him by word of mouth, after the ancient fashion of the Celtic warriors, cried, "Frank, I am going to give thee my first present, a present which I have been keeping for thee a long while, and which I hope thou wilt bear in mind;" and launched at him a javelin, which the other received on his shield.

"Proud Briton," replied the Frank, "I have received thy present, and I am going to give thee mine." He dug both spurs into his horse's sides, and galloped down upon Morvan, who, clad though he was in a coat of mail, fell pierced by the thrust of a lance.

The Frank had but time to dismount and cut off his head, when he fell himself, mortally wounded by one of Morvan's young warriors, but not without having, in his turn, dealt the other his death-blow.
It spreads on all sides that Morvan is dead; and the Franks come thronging to the scene of the encounter.

There is picked up and passed from hand to hand a head all bloody and fearfully disfigured.