(Rise outer curtain.) Enter two Soldiers. 1st Sol. Ho, without there! 2nd Sol. What news? 1st Sol. Arthur is back for England with all his forces, and the King hath sent an army to withstand his landing, and himself leaveth to-night to follow them. 2nd Sol. He be a rare King, this hunchback. He hath a marvellous power. His knights be feared of him, but 'tis said he's just. 1st Sol. He be not lawful got, 'tis said, but none can say his rule be foul. 2nd Sol. 'Tis said that the new Queen be a witch an' hath holpen him wi' her deviltries. 1st Sol. God save us if it be true! Yet it is safe to say: God save the King an' Queen. 'Tis better to cry a witch Queen than to be split i' the gullet. 2nd Sol. Yea, wi' plenty ale i' the pewter and meat o' the spit, no matter who queens or kings it, so says I. I'm for Mordred an' the witch. 1st Sol. So be I till the next change comes. [Exeunt both. (Rise inner curtain.) Enter VIVIEN as Queen, with many Ladies and Pages; takes her state. Enter a Knight, who kneels. VIV. What news from France, Sir Bors? Knight. Arthur cometh back, my lady. VIV. Nay! Knight. Yea, my lady, the army be embarked. VIV. Oh, short and bitter! Enter MORDRED. MOR. Well, madam! VIV. (to the Ladies) Begone! [Exeunt all. (to MORDRED) Hast thou heard the news? MOR. 'Tis as I have long expected. He now cometh back. VIV. Art thou prepared? MOR. Yea, if 'tis d**h thou meanest. And 'twere better so. Thou art a Queen already! I had not thought thou wouldst so look the Queen. VIV. Mordred, would that thou mightst also see I wear a heart, a woman's heart, beneath This queenly mask! MOR. A heart? VIV. That beats and breaks for thee! MOR. I'm not myself, I am a hunchback king Who stole his father's rule by subtlety, And keepeth it by power of being a devil. I know not love. Woman, thou art mad! Art thou not satisfied with what thou art? I made thee all that woman's heart might crave. Revenge, ambition, these all can I grant, But love, a commodity not in Mordred's giving. Use this thy power to surfeit while it lasts; To-morrow it will topple. I'm o'er-weary Of all this sycophancy of creeping men, Who fear my power and sneer upon my back; A pageantry of lies where human worms, Who crawl to-day, to-morrow get a sting And use it on the hand that 'friended them. I cannot mould the face to popular form, And hide the thought behind the outward act, And make good ill, ill good, by royal patent. Nay, I can scorn, and I can hate,—yea, strike, When rules the mood, yea, I'm a very devil; But cheat myself and others to what I am, And be a popular dream, a fancied god, The victim of a world's delusiveness, What manner I am, I were not made for this. Yea, coming struggle, I meet thee with a joy, 'Twere scarce expected. Madam, I bid farewell. We worked this masque together, thou and I, And if it like thee little, blame not Mordred. I go to-night to meet my sire in battle. Such fight will be this kingdom hath not known In all its sorrows. Britain's darkest hours Are blacking on her, I feel I go to d**h. I leave some knights to guard thee. If thou desirest, Thou canst withdraw unto some convent close Till this blows over. VIV. Nay, Vivien flees not. She dies first. Woman or Queen, She will be found where dangers threaten thee And menace thy kingliness. O Mordred, Thou knowest not the woman that I am. Take me with thee as thy heart's true slave. Where thou diest, there would Vivien die, Or where thou goest, there would she wander, too. MOR. Nay, nay, 'tis vain, I am a man apart. Thou knowest not the iron I am become. Mordred needs no shield of kindly help Other than what unkind nature gave him. Woman, thou dost unqueen thyself, I tell thee. Thou wastest thy words on Mordred. VIV. O brute, O cruel shape, not natural man, Hast thou no feeling? MOR. I go forth to-night To wreck my father, stem his tide this way Unto his rightful kingdom. Speak me love! Rather tell the lamb skipping the mead Go ask the wolf for s**le. VIV. Nay, Mordred, slay me now, and thou wilt know Vivien had blood full warm to flow for thee. MOR. Woman, I'm all iron and adamant, And yet I pity thee, for thou hast hell. I would not slay thee—rather fare thee well. [Exit MORDRED VIV. O God! Mordred! Mordred! Is this all? And I have moulded him unto this iron I beat against. It is my punishment! O God! O God! Nay, I will go with him, And die with him if need be. Now, my wits! But how? How? How? Enter a Page. Page. Madam, the King? VIV. He hath just left.—Stay, doest thou go with him? Page. Yea, madam. VIV. Dost see this j**el? Page. Yea, madam, it be wondrous indeed. VIV. It will be thine—wilt thou stay, And let another go in thy stead. Page. The King trusteth me. VIV. 'Tis the will of one who loveth the King far more than ever thou couldst. 'Tis my will. Thou must stay. Quick, this way! [Exeunt both. Re-enter MORDRED with his Knights. [Trumpets without. MOR. Make haste! Make haste! Where tarrieth this squire of mine? We must ride to Dover ere it darkens. A Knight. He cometh now, sire. Enter VIVIEN, disguised as a Squire. MOR. Dost thou keep thy King? Thou wert long in coming. VIV. I came with all speed, sire. MOR. Thou seemest over pink and white for this work. Canst thou fight? VIV. Yea, sire, I can use a dagger. MOR. Then follow.—Ho, there without! Now for Mordred's doom! CURTAIN.