Queen-M. O heaven!
Ele. 'Tis true: how often have I stopp'd
Thy unchaste songs from passing through mine ears.
How oft, when thy luxurious arms have twin'd
About my jetty neck, have I cried out:
Away, those scalding veins burn me—'tis true.
Queen-M. Devil, 'tis a lie!
Ele. Thou slew'st my sweet Maria;
Alvero, 'twas thy daughter, 'twas; Hortenzo,
She was thy sister; justice, Isabella;
This serpent poison'd thy dear father's bed,
Setting large horns on his imperial head.
Queen-M. Hear me!
Ele. Ha, why?
Alv. Madam, you shall be heard
Before the courts, before the courts of Spain.
Ele. A guard! a guard!
Enter two Moors and others.
Queen-M. A guard! for what? for whom?