Narr 1: At the dock, a curious crowd assembles. Lancelot joins thm and peers down into the narrow boat. Lying in the bottom, perfectly still, is a beautiful maiden, pale as death herself. Knight 2: (reading prow) "The Lady of Shalott." Narr 2: Lancelot is stunned. Knight 2: She's dead. Narr 1: The king is summoned Knight 2: Look, she clutches a sack of some kind. The symbols match your crest, Lancelot. And there's something inside. Narr 2: Arthur takes the note. Arthur: (reading) "Most noble lord, Sir Lancelot of the Lake-I, the Lady of Shalott, have come to take my farewell of you. I loved you true, even though my love had no return. Pray for my soul, as you are a night beyond compare." Lance: It is true, she loved me. But i did not urge the flames. Her father and brothers will tell you. Arthur: Such a beauty. One might have thought she was born for you, Lancelot. She could have cured your loneliness, knight, and brought glory to your name. Lance: My name shames me now. Arthur: See that she is buried honorably, here in Camelot. Narr 1: Lancelot lifts Elaine from the boat and carries her to the churchyard. Lance: (looking at her) You loved me with a heart more tender than my queen's. Narr 2: He set her body gently down in a crypt. Lance: You have a lovely face. Pray your soul? Aye-God in his mercy, grant your grace, dear Lady of Shalott.
