Merlin. Mordred come forth.

[Enter Mordred who kneels and tries to cover himself with his cloak.

Mordred

Arthur. (Starts.) What be this?

Merlin. Thy son Mordred, the heir to thy realm!

Arthur. Oh black angered Heaven! (Falls heavily to the ground.)

Mordred. Father! my father! Merlin thou has killed my father.

Oh Merlin thou wert over-cruel!

Merlin. Better that he were dead a thousand deaths

Than this had happened. He is not a king

In more than vulgar fancy. In mine eyes

With all thy wry, distorted body there,

Thou art a thousand times more kingly now

Than he or any like him in this realm.

And thou wilt be a king yet ere thou diest.

Oh Arthur, thou great Arthur of my dreams,

Why didst thou thus unthrone thee, showing bare

A thing of clay, where all seemed whitest marble?

Mordred. Ha! now he revives. Father!

[Pg 11]

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