Hub. What, Eleanor?
La. Alb. You know my place, and how I queen the court,
A virtuous mark that lords point out to wives,
Bidding them walk as Albemarle's good dame.
Now let me take my seat on the lowest step,
And none too humble to mock me going up.
Hub. What's this to do with Roland's love for Glaia?
La. Alb. O, let them scorn! Tis nothing! But my husband—
Brother, I never dreamed thy cruelty
Would give me to his vengeance.