For much I fear their love was innocent.
Vera. With my own troops Alphonso seized my person,
In my own town, to my perpetual shame.
Pass on to that, and strike the traitor dead.
Cel. Yes, proud Alphonso, you were banish'd hence;
Your father was confined, and doomed to death;
The beauty you adored was made another's.
How durst you, then, attempt to avenge your wrongs,
And force your mistress from your rival's arms,
Rather than die contented, as you ought?