ELE. Stop your throats! Hark! hush, you squaller. Dear love, look up: Our chamber-window stares into the court, And every wide-mouth'd ear, hearing this news, Will give alarum to the cuckold king: I did dissemble when I chid my love, And that dissembling was to try my love. QUEEN-M. Thou call'dst me strumpet. ELE. I'll tear out my tongue From this black temple for blaspheming thee. QUEEN-M. And when I woo'd thee but to smile on me, Thou cri'dst away, away, and frown'dst upon me. ELE. Come, now I will kiss thee; now I'll smile upon thee; Call to thy ashy cheeks their wonted red; Come, frown not, pout not; smile, smile upon me, And with my poniard will I stab my flesh, And quaff carouses to thee of my blood; Whilst in moist nectar kisses thou dost pledge me. How now, why star'st thou thus? [_Knock._ _Enter_ ZARACK. ZAR. The king is dead! ELE. Ah, dead! [ah, dead!] You hear this? Is't true, is't true? The king [is] dead! Who dare knock thus? ZAR. It is the cardinal Making inquiry if the queen were here. Ele. See, she is here, [go] tell him; and yet [no--] Zarack, stay. _Enter_ BALTHAZAR. BAL. Don Roderigo's come to seek the queen. ELE. Why should Roderigo seek her here? BAL. The king hath swooned thrice; and, being recovered, Sends up and down the court to seek her grace. ELE. The king was dead with you. [_To_ ZARACK.] Run, and with a voice Erected high as mine, say thus, thus threaten, To Roderigo and the cardinal: Seek no queens here, I'll broach them, if they do, Upon my falchion's point: [_Knock again._ Again! more knocking! ZAR. Your father is at hand, my gracious lord. ELE. Lock all the chambers, bar him out, you apes: Hither, a vengeance! stir, Eugenia, You know your old walk underground; away! So down, hie to the king; quick, quick, you squalls, Crawl with your dam i' th' dark; dear love, farewell: One day I hope to shut you up in hell. [ELEAZAR _shuts them in_. SCENE II. _Enter_ ALVERO. ALV. Son Eleazar, saw you not the queen? ELE. Hah! ALV. Was not the queen here with you? ELE. Queen with me! Because, my lord, I'm married to your daughter, You, like your daughter, will grow jealous: The queen with me! with me a Moor, a devil, A slave of Barbary, a dog--for so Your silken courtiers christen me. But, father, Although my flesh be tawny, in my veins Runs blood as red, as royal, as the best And proudest in Spain; there does, old man. My father, who with his empire lost his life, And left me captive to a Spanish tyrant,-- O! Go tell him, _Spanish tyrant_; tell him, do. He that can lose a kingdom, and not rave, He's a tame jade; I am not: tell old Philip I call him tyrant; here's a sword and arms, A heart, a head, and so, pish!--'tis but death. Old fellow, she's not here: but ere I die, Sword, I'll bequeath thee a rich legacy.