[The KING, in the front, gazes at his hands, and rubs them, as though washing them, one over the other. Then the same motion over his body. At last he feels his throat, moving his hands around it. In this last position, with his hands at his throat, he remains motionless, staring fixedly before him.]
MANRIQUE. Most noble Prince and King. Most gracious Sire!
KING (starting violently).
Ye here? 'Tis good ye come! I sought for you—
And all of you. Ye spare me further search.
[He steps before them, measuring them with angry glances.]
MANRIQUE (pointing to the weapons lying on the floor).
We have disarmed ourselves, laid down our swords.
KING. I see the swords. Come ye to slay me, then?
I pray, complete your work. Here is my breast!
[He opens his robe.]
QUEEN. He has't no more!