I’d rather meet the mad kerls of the Isles,
Than come again on such a quest as this.
This Guinevere they say is proud and cold,
Not such a woman as Launcelot would love.
Yea love, what doth it mean, and this strange maiden,
What can she want of me? Aye, here she comes.
Enter Guinevere, veiled.
Guin. My lord forgive this meeting in this place.
(Aside) O, if he like it not!