What fiend’s get art thou? Besmirching the seat of sovereignty with thy beastly filth! Thou filth-loving drab, thou shalt rue this day! By God’s blood! Thou hast no soul! To treat our sacred seat as a dung-heap? Thou art lower; than the cur in the street! Guards! Hie her from our sight! Take this scurrilous wench! Hie her to the deepest dungeon and let her sit in her own stench until she rots! A cucking stool is too good for such a wretched creature!
