Arthur. Yea.
Gwaine. (Going to the Arras and taking one down proceeds to buckle it on.) Then this one pleaseth me.
Guin. Stop, knight! ’Tis the king’s.
Gwaine. Then will it be the king’s still. (Goes out.)
Arthur. What more wouldst thou with me, my lady?
Guin. I would speak of one Mordred.
Arthur. My son! what of him?
Guin. My lord, I would have him banished the Court.
He is sinister on my sight and exceeding forward.
I like him not, wilt thou promise?