[Swoons.

Laun. Black, murky fiend of hell! come in thy form

Most monstrous, give me age on ages here.

And I will clang with thee and all thine imps.

[Pg 27]

[Pg 27]

Bind me in blackness under hell’s foul night,

And it were nothing, after dream like this.

Guin. (Rising up.) Oh mercy! damned or not, I love thee still.

Laun. Why doth not nature crack and groan?

Guin. (Crawls to his feet.) Oh be thou fiend or imp or Launcelot.

Thy kisses burn me even through this mist.

Laun. Yea, thou dost move me as never woman hath moved.

Oh would to God that we had never loved.

Then thou wouldst have been Guinevere, and I Launcelot.

Guin. What be we now?

Laun. Damned souls.

Guin. Then sweet, my love, it were thus to be damned.

Laun. Oh thou must go, proud Guinevere, tomorrow

Unto great Arthur’s court and be his bride,

 Prev. P 51/290 next