Say your prayers now, and we will cry Amen Before we kill you. LAUNCELOT Is that your answer? Then Look to yourselves! (_He sets open the door suddenly, sword in hand._ AGRAVAINE, MADOR, PATRICE, _and_ MORDRED _enter. There is a rush and furious combat._ AGRAVAINE _falls mortally wounded within the room_.) VOICES Have at him! LAUNCELOT Mouths of shame! GUENEVERE Ah, Jesu, help! AGRAVAINE I am dead. Mordred, Mordred! PATRICE (_falling_) It is the fiend. LAUNCELOT To the black heart of you! (MORDRED _falls wounded, but rises and escapes_.) MADOR Help, Mordred, help! The fiend is in him. He has seven swords. (MADOR _falls_.) LAUNCELOT Bring me the lamp. (GUENEVERE _brings lamp_.) Ah, never more to insult you now, my Queen. (_He turns over the body of_ AGRAVAINE.) It is Agravaine, not Mordred! (_He holds the lamp over the other bodies._) Patrice! and Mador! Mordred’s fled, the coward! Why did I not make sure? Fled! GUENEVERE Save yourself! Launcelot, from this hour all’s war and ruin. I forsee it, I that made it. It has come, Doom! Doom! LAUNCELOT I’ll to the King. GUENEVERE Your enemy! LAUNCELOT Arthur, my enemy? GUENEVERE From this night forth. Away! Gather your friends. Mordred is working while you linger. Ride. Ride without rein to your castle in the North, To Joyous Gard. LAUNCELOT To fight against my King? I cannot. GUENEVERE Will you then be taken? Mordred Will be before you with the King. Hasten! Arm; gather every sword that’s on your side. LAUNCELOT I cannot fight against my King. GUENEVERE Then fly! LAUNCELOT Fly and desert my Queen? Fly in her hour Of utmost peril?... Ah, Guenevere, what’s done nothing revokes, Neither repentance, nor new deeds, nor tears. See, we had parted: the great joy we had Was over; all was anguish and farewell. And now, and now, when we had torn asunder, We are driven together, and we cannot part. GUENEVERE But part we must. This blood all cries against us. Save yourself, I have wrought you wrong enough. LAUNCELOT I’ll to the King. He trusted me; and I must tell him all. I am more to him than many Mordreds. GUENEVERE Blind! But if it must be, go this very night, Now! Dawn will soon be upon us. LAUNCELOT