Use Vivien.
Mordred. Vivien!
Merlin. Yea Vivien. There is naught on all this earth
That cuts so sharp the thews of love and hate
And those poor brittle thongs that bind men up
In that strange bundle called society,
Like the sharp acids nature hath distilled
From out the foiled hates of an evil woman.
(To the king.) Ho! ho! Arthur! Great King
Arthur. Knowest thou me, Merlin?