Laun. ’Tis ended then, but I would say to thee,
That nothing next to this most heavy matter,
The most dread, sorrowful matter in this poor world,
Hath grieved me so as that I did that deed.
All blinded with my sorrow for the Queen,
I knew not ’twas your brothers that I slew.
Gwaine. Nay, nay, blood, blood alone will answer.
Laun. (To the Queen.)
And thou sad Guinevere, thou Queen of women,
Sweetest of soul and form upon this earth,