And fit to be the lord to thee, my Princess.

Guin. Come Unid take my hand and we wilt sit

And speak of this great Arthur. Well thou knowest

My maiden fears regarding this same marriage.

I honored this Arthur as a noble king,

The mighty monarch and the splendid warrior.

And yet I fear him for reputed coldness.

Thou knowest me a princess warm in blood,

Brim with fire and sweetness of this life,

Not fitted to be wedded to a statue,

A marble, though that marble be a king.

For something stirred my life-springs long ago,

And whispered, Guinevere were made for love

And love alone would rule her destiny.

And when I looked and saw him enter there,

And knew my lord, and felt him gaze my way,

Knowing his errand to my father’s hall,

I blushed me till mine inmost being burned.

And all the roses whispered, “Arthur”! “Arthur”!

And “Arthur”! “Arthur”! rang through all the halls.

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