The king for this thy filial audience.

Mordred. O mighty Merlin, I fear me all thine arts

That compass ocean, air, and deepest mine,

And have command of subtlest sciences,

Have never found the power to brew a charm,

A Sovereign draught of distillation rare,

To warm a Father’s heart toward such as me.

Merlin. Thou much mistakest Mordred, he is noble.

This too-long thought on thine infirmity,

Hath made thy mind, which is as clear as glass,

Ensickly all things that it looks upon.

[Pg 6]

[Pg 6]

When Arthur, thy great father, knows his son,

His nobleness of heart will plead with him,

And when he sees what I have seen in thee,

A subtle greatness of the inner spirit,

Greater than even I, wise Merlin, have,

That prophesies a power for good or ill

Such as is rare mid men in this our age,

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