[Folds her in his arms and kisses her.

Guin. All life hath been but shaping up to this.

Laun. Oh could this sunset be but gold forever.

Guin. My lord Arthur!

Laun. (Starts back.) Great God!

Guin. Kiss me. Why Great God?

Thou art my God when thy lips are so sweet.

Laun. Why calledst thou me Arthur?

Guin. And art thou not?

Laun. Oh, who art thou that callest Arthur, lord?

Guin. As thou art Arthur, I am Guinevere.

[Launcelot starts back in horror.

Laun. Guinevere! Oh hell make thick your murky curtains.

Day wake no more! stars shrink your eye-hole lights,

And let this damned earth shrivel.

Guin. (Clutching his arm.) And art thou not great Arthur?

Who art thou? O God! who art thou?

Laun. Not Arthur, no! but that damned Launcelot,

Who twixt his hell and Arthur’s heaven hath got.

Guin. Then am I a doomed maid.

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