[Stamping about and slapping knees, etc.] Oh, aye! All women do most desire their own sweet will, that they may do in all things as they list!
The Giant.
[Without, unable to believe his ears.] Eh? Eh? What word do I hear?
All.
[Shouting in concert and carefully syllabling.] All women most desire their own sweet will that they may do in all things as they list!
[At this The Giant utters a mighty roar of wrath and frustration, and falls to the ground with a tremendous thud; lies there groaning, and obviously writhing, a short space, then with one final yell gives up the ghost, All, meantime, mocking and with ejaculations recording the phases of his passing: “Aha, now! How like you that!... Mark how he flames and smokes with wrath!... Oh, what a fall! Almost he brings down the castle!... Hear him groan!... Ah, fellow; that wraths you finely!... Now he dies! He dies! He gives up the ghost!” They all dance about, exulting.]
Guinevere.
[Falling on Arthur’s neck.] Saved! Now am I more gladder than I ever was! Oh, my dear love! Mercifully saved!
Arthur.