QUEEN
Sweet Royal Sir no more, it is too deep.
MALATESTE
Twill hurt your health sir.
KING
Interrupt me in my drink? 'Tis off.
MALATESTE
Alas Sir.
You have drunk your last, that poisoned bowl I filled
Not to be put in your hand, but hers.
KING
Poisoned?
ALL
Descend black speckled soul to hell!
[The faction turn on Malateste and wound him.]
MALATESTE
The Queen has sent me thither.
Malateste dies.
CARDINAL
What new fury shakes now with her snake's locks?