MALATESTE
The herbs and flowers to strew the wedding way,
Be cypress, eugh, cold colliquintida. <58>
QUEEN
Herbane and poppy, and that magical weed
Which hags at midnight watch to catch the seed. <59>
MALATESTE
To these our execrations, and what mischief
Hell can but hatch in a distracted brain,
I'll be the executioner, though it look
So horrid it can fright even murder back.
QUEEN
Poison his whore today, for thou shalt wait
On the King's cup, and when heated with wine
He calls to drink the bride's health, marry her
Alive to a gaping grave.
MALATESTE
At board?
QUEEN
At board.
MALATESTE
When she being guarded round about with friends,
Like a fairy land, hemmed with rocks and seas,
What rescue shall I find?
QUEEN
Mine arms. Dost faint?
Stood all the Pyrenean hills that part
Spain and our country, on each others shoulders,
Burning with Aetnean flame, yet thou should'st on,
As being my steel of resolution,
First striking sparkles from my flinty breast.
Wert thou to catch the horses of the sun
Fast by their bridles, and to turn back day,
Would'st thou not do it, base coward, to make way
To the Italians second bliss, revenge?
MALATESTE
Were my bones threatened to the wheel of torture
I'll do it.
Enter Lopez.