That heresy is still hot in your heart.
Rizzio.
For which you with accursèd joy are glad?...
[Osio goes rankling into garden.
What does he here, my Porzia? what does he?
[Troubled.
Has he been much with you? Sometimes there in
My fetters I have fought strange dreams of him,
Battled against him as against a brood
Of elemental horrors and contagion.