’Tis the one part of thee that now can suffer,
The only part of thee that holdeth good.
Vivien. Nay, I will not hearken.
Mordred (Seizes her wrist.) I’ll bind thee on the rack as thou hast me,
Or rather finding me there, stretched my sorrows,
And show thee all the devil thou hast roused.
Then hear me, I do scorn that love of thine;
Do trample on, despise, as I do thee!
Vivien. (Falls on her face.) Nay Mordred, thou breakest my heart,
Nay, curse me not.