[Arthur goes out.
There’s no end now but exile, I must hence,
Back with to-morrow’s dawn to my own land,
To Brittany. (He motions to the steersman, and steps into the barge.)
Steer down the stream, and I
Will bring you to that place
Where this must leave the light.
Have mercy, Jesu, on that wounded heart!
Give me a soul so constant, flight so straight!
Some angel of compassion bear her now