Could prompt thee to this damned treachery?
Wort. Canst thou, base Saxon! thou, base braggart, ask it?
’Tis thou, and on thy soul, I’ll prove it so.
Heng. Ask where’s thy queen, and then I’ll answer thee!
Wort. Dares thus thy tongue, with notes unmannerly,
My heart-strings tear asunder? Fiend, have at thee!
[They fight, Hengist falls.
Heng. Thine hand be wither’d for this fatal blow.
And must, then, all my hopes lie buried here?
Wort. Yea; and thou need’st not much of Kent’s domain;