Mess. From the King.
Gwaine. What want ye?
Mess. We seek two knights, Sir Launcelot and Sir Gwaine.
Gwaine. We be thy men—what be thy message?
Mess. The King desireth thee in great haste, the Queen be in great peril.
Laun. Nay!
Mess. Yea, of her life. She be condemned to the stake if a knight assoil her not with his body on her accuser tomorrow noon.
Laun. Dread Heaven!
Gwaine. What be the accusation?