Enter the Queen and Mirza.
Good morning, Altemire, my queen.
Why, you seem sad.
Altem.My lord, I’m very sad.
Palmis. The Queen is sad! Zoram, attune your lyre,
And soothe her melancholy.
Altem.No, no, no—
I’m not in cue for music—leave us, pray—
I would take counsel with my lord—look, sirs,
I am not well.