ISA. Set my Hortenzo free, And I'll like anything. ELE. A fool, a fool. Hortenzo free! why, look you, he free! no; Then must he marry you; you must be queen, He in a manner king; these dignities, Like poison, make men swell; this ratsbane honour, O, 'tis so sweet! they'll lick it, till all burst: He will be proud; and pride, you know, must fall. Come, come, he shall not; no, no, 'tis more meet To keep him down safe standing on his feet. ISA. Eleazar! ELE. Mark, the imperial chair of Spain Is now as empty as a miser's alms: Be wise, I yet dare sit in't; it's for you, If you will be for me; there's room for two. Do--meditate--muse on't: its best for thee To love me, live with me, and lie with me. ISA. Thou know'st I'll first lie in the arms of death. My meditations are how to revenge Thy bloody tyrannies. I fear thee not, Inhuman slave, but to thy face defy Thy lust, thy love, thy barbarous villany. ELE. Zarack. _Enter_ ZARACK. ZAR. My lord. ELE. Where's Balthazar? ZAR. A-drumming. ELE. I have made them rave and curse, and so guard her. Your court shall be this prison; guard her, slaves, With open eyes: defy me! see my veins Struck't out, being overheated with my blood, Boiling in wrath; I'll tame you. ISA. Do, do. ELE. Ha, I will! and once more fill a kingdom's throne. Spain, I'll new-mould thee: I will have a chair Made all of dead men's bones; and the ascents Shall be the heads of Spaniards set in ranks: I will have Philip's head, Hortenzo's head, Mendoza's head, thy mother's head, and this-- This head, that is so cross, I'll have't. The scene wants actors; I'll fetch more, and clothe it In rich cothurnal pomp: a tragedy Ought to be grave: graves this shall beautify. Moor, execute to th' life my dread commands; Vengeance, awake, thou hast much work in hand. [_Exit._ ZAR. I am weary of this office and this life; It is too thirsty, and I would your blood Might 'scape the filling out. By heaven, I swear, I scorn these blows and his rebukes to bear. ISA. O Zarack, pity me; I love thee well; Love deserves pity; pity Isabel. ZAR. What would you have me do? ISA. To kill this Moor. ZAR. I'll cast an eye of death upon my face; I'll be no more his slave. Swear to advance me, And, by yon setting sun, this hand and this Shall rid you of a tyrant. ISA. By my birth, No Spaniard's honour'd place shall equal thine. ZAR. I'll kill him then. ISA. And Balthazar? ZAR. And he. ISA. I pray thee, first fetch Philip and Hortenzo Out of that hell; they two will be most glad To aid thee in this execution. ZAR. My Lord Philippo and Hortenzo, rise. Your hands; so, talk to her: at my return This sword shall reek with blood of Balthazar. [_Exit._ PHIL. Three curses (like three commendations To their souls) I send: thy tortured brother; Does curse the cardinal, the Moor, thy mother.