[Polishing vigourously.] It shall go hard with the knavish churl or ever he carries out his foul intent, I warrant you, Madam!
Guinevere.
Ah, dear nephew, if it were a matter of prowess, then should we be making great joy and feasting! But how can fair chivalry prevail against the wicked crafts of sorcery?
[Again the knock at the door is heard. Both start and exclaim. The Shadow appears again at the window.]
The Voice.
Who dwell herein, I pray you of your charity unshut the door!
Guinevere.
A woman! Seeking shelter!
Sir Kay.
[Waking, and realising the state of affairs.] Madam, I pray you, withhold, for well am I sure it is no woman!