Have you no joy of me? Launcelot (as if no word were stranger) Launcelot Joy? Guenevere Guenevere Do you keep Your passion for the dust and for the grave? Oh, you grow weary, say the truth at last, For a young hand has touched you. Launcelot Launcelot Guenevere! Guenevere Guenevere Why did you leave me? Launcelot Launcelot I was afraid. Guenevere
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