Had’st heretofore ne’er vanquish’d, yet resists.
Suppress, for shame, that impious mouth so taught,
And so much skill’d t’ abuse the wedded bed.
Look back to former fates: Troy still had stood,
Had not her prince made light of wedlock’s lore.
The vice that threw down Troy doth threat thy throne.
Take heed: there Mordred stands, whence Paris fell.
[Exit.
Conan. Since that your highness knows for certain truth,
What power your sire prepares to claim his right.