Mordred. The crown I’ll keep myself, ensue what will.
Death must be once; how soon, I least respect.
He best provides that can beware in time,
Not why nor when, but whence and where he falls.
What fool, to live a year or twain in rest,
Would lose the state and honour of a crown?
Gawin. Consider then your father’s grief and want,
Whom you bereave of kingdom, realm, and crown,
Mordred. Trust me, a huge and mighty kingdom ’tis
To bear the want of kingdom, realm, and crown.