That, Nuncio of the Patriarch, having charge
Of the Isle here, I claim thee [turning to Dja.] as these bid me,
Forfeit for murder done thy lawful prince,
Thou conjurer that peep'st and mutterest!
Why should I hold thee from their hands? (Spells, children?
But hear how I dispose of all his spells!)
Thou art a prophet?—wouldst entice thy tribe
From me?—thou workest miracles? (Attend!
Let him but move me with his spells!) I, Nuncio ...
Dja. ... Which how thou camest to be, I say not now,