Mordred plays deep then, and makes power about him.
I fear that he is falser than you dream.
The rumour runs that treachery was at work
Conniving with these rebels in the North.
My life upon the hazard, it was he.
The Queen is but a pawn in Mordred’s game
That plays—who knows?—for kinship. Guenevere,
This poison that he brews and breathes abroad
Is but to start dissension round the King
And split the realm in two. But that my Queen