Lucan
There’s something monstrous in the season, a curse and an infection. Storm after storm! The corn rots unripened, there’s mildew in the orchards.
Bedivere
And here, unnatural strife. Arthur and the brother of his heart.
Lucan
And the Queen betwixt them, like some baleful star.
Bedivere
And Gawaine mad with hate.
Lucan
How long is it since we have besieged this Joyous Gard of Launcelot’s?