Mordred. (Springs forward and draws.) Fiend! thou diest! (He clutches her, they stand confronting each other.) Nay, nay and thou didst hear all? Nay, I will not kill thee. Thy punishment hath been more than I could mete thee. I see sharp agony in thine evil face. Yea, Woman thou hast suffered.
Vivien. Oh God! My love! My love! (Would stab herself.)
Mordred. Nay, die not! (Throws the dagger away.) Thou deservest thy reward. Mordred will crown this farce and make thee Queen.
Vivien. Me! thy wife?
Mordred. Nay, nay, nor mistress even, only Queen.
[Curtain.
SCENE VI.—France—A Tent on the Field near Launcelot’s Castle. Arthur paces to and fro.
Arthur. I would I were on British soil again