_Cesar._ Thus long I have stood silent, and with no unwillingness, Attended the relation of my fall, From a fair expectation; what I fear'd (Since the first syllable this Lady utter'd Of my not being hers) benevolent Fates Have eas'd me off; for to be basely born, If not base-born, detracts not from the bounty Of natures freedom, or an honest birth. Nobility claim'd by the right of blood, Shewes chiefly, that our Ancestors desir'd What we inherit; but that Man whose actions Purchase a real merit to himself, And rancks him in the file of praise and honor, Creates his own advancement; let me want The fuel which best feeds the fires of greatness, Lordly possessions, yet shall still my gratitude By some attempts, of mention not unworthy, Endeavour to return a fit acquittance To that large debt I owe your favours (Madam) And great _Alberto's_ memory and goodness; O that I could as gently shake off passion For the loss of that great brave Man, as I can shake off Remembra[n]ce of that once I was reputed; I have not much to say, this Princely presence Needs not too strictly to examine farther The truth of this acknowledgment; a Mother Dares never disavow her only son, And any woman must come short of Piety, That can, or dis-inherit her own issue, Or fears the voice of rumor for a stranger. Madam, you have confest, my Father was A servant to your Lord and you: by interest Of being his son, I cannot but claim justly The honor of continuing still my service To you and yours; which granted, I beg leave I may for this time be dismist. _Duke._ Bold spirit. _Bap._ I love thee now with pitty. _Duke._ Go not yet-- A sudden tempest that might shake a rock, Yet he stands firm against it; much it moves me, He, not _Alberto's_ son, and she a Widdow, And she a Widdow,--Lords your ear. _Omnes._ Your pleasure.-- [_Whispers._ _Duke._ So, Lady, what you have avouch'd is truth. _Mari._ Truth only, gracious Sir. _Duke._ Hear then our Sentence. Since from his cradle you have fed and foster'd _Cæsario_ as your Son, and train'd him up To hopes of greatness; which now in a moment You utterly again have ruin'd, this way We with our Counsel are resolv'd, you being A Widdow, shall accept him for a husband. _Maria._ Husband to me, Sir? _Duke._ 'Tis in us to raise him To honors, and his vertues will deserve 'em. _Maria._ But Sir, 'tis in no Prince, nor his Prerogative, To force a Womans choice against her heart.