Yea, I will sleep and muffle out my sorrows
A little while. (Goes to the couch.)
Nay, Arthur will not pillow till he beds with death,
Or doth regain his kingdom. I will rest here.
(Seats himself on a chair and wraps his cloak about him.)
Now for Oblivion’s peace!
O stricken King, thou art the loneliest to-night.
In any realm. (Leans forward, falls asleep. A Page steals in.)
Page. He sleeps. (Exit Page.) (Arthur starts and mutters “Launcelot! Launcelot! My friend! My friend! Guinevere! Ah! Guinevere!”)
Ghost of Merlin rises.