Alv. Words are ill-spent,
Where wrong sits judge; you're arm'd, if innocent.
Car. Well then, I must to prison: Moor, no more.
Heavens, thou art just! Prince Philip I betray'd,
And now myself fall; guile with guile is paid.
[Exit.
Queen-M. Philip being prov'd a bastard, who shall sit
Upon this empty throne?
Ele. Strumpet, not you.
Queen-M. Strumpet! and I not sit there, who [shall] then?
Ele. Down!
Back! if she touch it, she'll bewitch the chair;
This throne belongs to Isabel the fair.
Bring forth the princess dress'd in royal robes,
The true affecter of Alvero's son,
Virtuous Hortenzo. Lords, behold your queen.
SCENE II.
Enter Isabella in royal robes, and Hortenzo.