ESTHER (to RACHEL, who prepares to go).
And thankst thou not the King for so much grace?
RACHEL (_still exhausted, turning to the _KING).
My thanks, O Sire, for all thy mighty care!
O were I not a poor and wretched thing—
(with a motion of her hand across her neck)
That this my neck, made short by hangman's hand,
That this my breast, a shield against thy foe—
But that thou wishest not!
KING. A charming shield!
Now go, and God be with you.—Garceran,
(more softly)
I do not wish that she, whom I protect
Should be insulted by improper jests,
Or any way disturbed—
RACHEL (with her hand on her brow).