De F. So quick and brave, Cleara?
Claud. O! [Expirat.
Des. Cleara! madam, madam! your sleeps are troubled——
Who's there? De Flame!
De F. Raise not thy voice an accent: if thou dost, by my eternal hopes and soul! this strikes it back unto thy heart. See'st thou revenge sit pale upon the point? 'Tis steeled with virgin's curses, and shall fly like lightning through thy blood; and it is a justice thy vast pride hath lost thee to.
Des. O, what hast thou done?
A deed that flinty Scythians and curl'd Ethiops
Would hide their eyes from.
De F. Our revenge shall wear a glorious title. Know'st
Thou that injur'd face? It is Cleara's, injur'd Cleara's.
Des. Cleara!
De F. What see'st thou on that brow?
Des. Murder!
De F. Horror and guilt unto thy soul.