How now, mighty King?
Arthur. ’Tis a great marvel!
Laun. (Steps forth.) The man that hath done that must face Launcelot to the death,—to the death! (Faces Gwaine and draws.)
Guin. My God! (Her maids support her, she hides her face in her mantle.)
Gwaine. I would not slay thee.
Laun. Thou can’st not!—Keep you! (They fight. Knights try to separate them.)
Arthur. Nay, back, more room! give them more room.
(Continue fighting, each draws blood, but neither gives way.)
Guin. (Aside to the maids.) Be he slain?
A Maid. Neither be slain, Madam.