But know the worst! I jested—
I—God!—I do not love you. Go! ’Twas all
Mockery—wanton cruelty—what you will—lechery!—
I—
(Lancelot looks at her dumbly, then slowly turns to go. As he draws aside the curtain of the doorway—)
Guinevere. Lancelot!
Lancelot. What does the Queen desire?
Guinevere. Oh, no, I am not the Queen—I am
Your wife!
Take me away with you! Let me not lie