This manly stature and these hands of strength
To play an idiot's or a woman's part?
If such indeed be Montebesa's wish,
Poor slight-boned, puny, shambling drivellers,
Or sickly maidens, should have been the offspring
Produced by her to mock a noble house.
MONTEBESA.
RASINGA.
And pointing fingers of the meanest peasant,
Who would his whetted blade sheath in the heart
Of his own mother's son for half the wrong,—
Ay, half the wrong which that audacious traitor
Has done to me!—Cease, lady; say no more:
I cannot henceforth live in ignominy;
Therefore, good sooth! I cannot grant your boon.
ARTINA (rushing forward and catching hold of his hand and his garments).
One load of wretchedness? Thou 'st cast me off,—
I who so loved thee and love thee still,—
Thou 'st cast me off, and I will meekly bear it.
Then, wilt thou not make some amends to me,
