Ele. Me!
Phil. Villain, 'tis thee;
Thou hell-begotten fiend, at thee I stare.
Queen-M. Philip, thou art a villain to dishonour me.
Phil. Mother, I am no villain: 'tis this villain
Dishonours you and me, dishonours Spain,
Dishonours all these lords; this devil is he,
That——
Ele. What! O, pardon me, I must throw off
All chains of duty, wert thou ten kings' sons;
Had I as many souls as I have sins,
As this from hence, so they from this should fly,
In just revenge of this indignity.
Phil. Give way, or I'll make way upon your bosoms.
Ele. Did my dear sovereign live, sirrah, that tongue——
Queen-M. Did but King Philip live, traitor, I'd tell——
Phil. A tale that should rid both your souls to hell.
Tell Philip's ghost, that Philip tells his queen,
That Philip's queen is a Moor's concubine;
Did the king live, I'd tell him how you two
Ripp'd up the entrails of his treasury
With masques and antic revellings.
Ele. Words insupportable! dost hear me, boy?