— Where is he?
— He's gone out in pursuit of a young agrimonia. A noble but shy plant, not easy to find. It could take him all day.
— All day?!
— It is invaluable, sire. It's properties open up both the liver and the spleen.
— He's in the tavern, isn't he?
— No, sire!
— Well, when he's finished opening up his liver and his spleen, tell him he has exactly one hour to sober up and get to my chambers.
— He's not in danger. He's seeing a girl.
— Merlin?
— Gaius, I'm sorry, but there is no reason to worry.
— Except for the poor girl.
— It is both a blessing and... a curse. Is there anything you wish to ask me?
— No. I don't think it would be good.
— You are wise, Emrys. Your wisdom will live long in the minds of men.
— How can a serving girl understand what it means to be queen?
— Guinevere is wise and strong, and I trust her more than anyone.
— And that is your weakness. You put too much trust in other people. You and you alone must rule Camelot.
— I would rather not rule at all than rule alone.
— So be it, but understand this, Odin: you kill me and you'll have all of Camelot to answer to.
— Camelot is nothing without its king.
— Then you don't know my knights. They will hunt you, and they will find you, and they will not rest until they're done.
— His fate and Arthur's are bound together like ivy round a tree.
— I fear he is dangerous.
— There is good cause to doubt him.
— Is there nothing I can do?
— Sometimes...to save the tree, the ivy must be cut.
— Merlin! This is one of the two…possibly three moments in my life where I’ve actually been glad to see you.
— That’s my thoughts exactly, Sire. How’re you feeling?
— Like death. Well, death warmed up, at least.
— I can imagine.
— Hm. Well it seems like we’ve both been through something of an ordeal.
— It wasn’t so bad, really. Once you get use to the eternal night and the rats, and the moldy pillows, living with a bucket of your own…
— Merlin. I’m sorry about what happened to you. Truly. Soon as I heard, I told them it couldn’t have been you who poisoned me.
You are leading an honourable man to his death, Odin. You’re no king, you’re a little more than a common criminal.
— Are you feeling all right, Merlin?
— Quite, My Lord.
— I find more and more your face resembles the back end of a cat.
— And you will remain here until you learn your lesson!
— Then release me because I have learned it already. That you care not for me, or anyone but yourself. That you are driven mad with power. That you are a tyrant!