Rod. Madam, be pleas’d to send your Woman hence, I’ve something to deliver from the Moor, Which you alone must be acquainted with.
Qu. Well, your Formality shall be allowed—retire— [To Elv. Exit Elv. What have you to deliver to me now?
Rod. This—
[Shews a Dagger, and takes her roughly by the Hands.
Qu. Hah!—
Rod. You must not call for help, unless to Heaven.
Qu. What daring thing art thou?
Rod. One that has now no time to answer thee.
[Stabs her, she struggles, her Arm bleeds.
Qu. Oh, hold thy killing Hand! I am thy Queen.