Ele. Where is the sleeping queen?
Rise, rise, and arm against the hand of treason.
Alv. Whence comes this sound of treason?
Enter the King in his shirt, his sword drawn.
King. Who frights our quiet slumbers with
This heavy noise?
Enter Queen in her night attire.
Queen-M. Was it a dream, or did the sound
Of monster treason call me from my rest?
King. Who rais'd this rumour? Eleazar, you?
Ele. I did, my liege, and still continue it,
Both for your safety and mine own discharge.
King. Whence comes the ground then?
Ele. From the cardinal
And the young prince who, bearing in his mind
The true idea of his late disgrace
In putting him from the protectorship,
And envying the advancement of the Moor,
Determined this night to murder you;
And for your highness lodged within my castle,
They would have laid the murder on my head.