QUEEN. Oh, touch it not!
KING. This nonsense now again!
And if I really take it in my hand,
(He has taken the picture in his hand)
Am I another, then? I wind the chain
In jest, to mock you, thus about my neck,
(Doing it.)
The face that 'frights you in my bosom hide—
Am I the less Alfonso, who doth see
That he has err'd, and who the fault condemns?
Then of your nonsense let this be enough!
[He draws away from the table.]
QUEEN. Only—
KING (wildly looking at her).
What is 't?