GUENDOLEN.

From thee will I bear nothing. Get thee hence:
Thine eyes defile me. Get thee from my sight.

CAMBER.

The gods defend thee, soul and spirit and sense,
From sense of things thou darest not read aright!
Farewell.

[Exit.

GUENDOLEN.

Fare thou not well, and be defence
Far from thy soul cast naked forth by night!
Hate rose from hell a liar: love came divine
From heaven: yet she that bore thee bore Locrine.

[Exit.

ACT III.

Scene I.—Troynovant. A Room in the Palace.