Am not disposed to grant?

MARQUIS (hastening from the alley).
The king!

QUEEN.
Oh God!

MARQUIS.
Away, away! fly from these precincts, prince!

QUEEN.
His jealousy is dreadful--should he see you----

CARLOS.
I'll stay.

QUEEN.
And who will be the victim then?

CARLOS (seizing the MARQUIS by the arm).
Away, away! Come, Roderigo, come!
[Goes and returns.
What may I hope to carry hence with me?

QUEEN.
Your mother's friendship.

CARLOS.
Friendship! Mother!