[exit Zanga.

Leon. Alas, my lord!

Alon. Ha! dost thou weep?

Leon. Have I no cause?

Alon. If love is thy concern,

Leon. Could this man ever mean to wrong my virtue?

[aside.

Alon. Ha, my dagger!

Leon. Of death!

Alon. As thou lov'st happiness—

Leon. Of murder!

Alon. Rash,

Leon. Who has most cause, you or myself? what act

[holding him.

Alon. [turning on her] Ill-fated woman!

Leon. Be satisfy'd!

Alon. Yes, thy own mouth shall witness it against thee;

Leon. Of what?

Alon. Of what?

Leon. This to my face! Oh, heaven!

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