CARLOS (with ironical smile).
His majesty? And did he really so?
Of all men he should not have seen it.

PRINCESS.
Nor yet that other scene within the chapel,
Which doubtless Carlos hath long since forgotten.
Prostrate before the holy Virgin's image,
You lay in prayer, when suddenly you heard--
'Twas not your fault--a rustling from behind
Of ladies' dresses. Then did Philip's son,
A youth of hero courage, tremble like
A heretic before the holy office.
On his pale lips died the half-uttered prayer.
In ecstasy of passion, prince--the scene
Was truly touching--for you seized the hand,
The blessed Virgin's cold and holy hand,
And showered your burning kisses on the marble.

CARLOS.
Princess, you wrong me: that was pure devotion!

PRINCESS.
Indeed! that's quite another thing. Perhaps
It was the fear of losing, then, at cards,
When you were seated with the queen and me,
And you with dexterous skill purloined my glove.
[CARLOS starts surprised.
That prompted you to play it for a card?