Guenevera, Angharat.
Guenevera. The love, that for his rage will not be rul’d,
Must be restrain’d: fame shall receive no foil.
Let Arthur live; whereof to make him sure
Myself will die, and so prevent his harms.
Why stayest thou thus amaz’d, O slothful wrath?
Mischief is meant; despatch it on thyself.
Angharat. Her breast, not yet appeas’d from former rage,
Hath chang’d her wrath which, wanting means to work
Another’s woe (for such is fury’s wont),