Ele. Bar up my castle gates! fire and confusion
Shall girt these Spanish curs. Was I for this
Sent to raise power against a fugitive?
To have my wife deflower'd? Zounds! where's my wife?
My slaves cry out she's dallying with the king:
Stand by; where is your king? Eleazar's bed
Shall scorn to be an Emperor's brothelry.
Queen-M. Be patient, Eleazar; here's the king.
Ele. Patience and I am foes. Where's my Maria?
Alv. Here is her hapless corse, that was Maria.
King. Here lies Maria's body, here her grave,
Her dead heart in my breast a tomb shall have.
Ele. Now, by the proud complexion of my cheeks,
Ta'en from the kisses of the amorous sun,
Were he ten thousand kings that slew my love,
Thus should my hand, plum'd with revenge's wings,
Requite mine own dishonour and her death.
[Stabs the King.
Queen-M. Ah me! my son!
All. The king is murder'd!
Lay hold on the damn'd traitor.
Ele. In his breast,
That dares but dart a finger at the Moor,
I'll bury this sharp steel, yet reeking warm
With the unchas'd[63] blood of that lecher-king,
That threw my wife in an untimely grave.