A world of spears and pennons fill the town,
And all the burghers feast their eyes with seeing.
[A clatter of arms without. Enter Launcelot who kneels.
Launcelot. Sir King!
Leo. Where tarries the great Prince Arthur?
Launcelot. He cometh not, my lord.
Leo. And why?
Launcelot. The king on sudden sick at Camelot
Hath sent me with his heart to Camelard
To plead his absence with thee and the Princess,