CLOTALDO. Stand all aside That I may put into his hand the clue To lead him out of this amazement. Sir, Vouchsafe your Highness from my bended knee Receive my homage first. SEG. Clotaldo! What, At last--his old self--undisguised where all Is masquerade--to end it!--You kneeling too! What! have the stars you told me long ago Laid that old work upon you, added this, That, having chain'd your prisoner so long, You loose his body now to slay his wits, Dragging him--how I know not--whither scarce I understand--dressing him up in all This frippery, with your dumb familiars Disvizor'd, and their lips unlock'd to lie, Calling him Prince and King, and, madman-like, Setting a crown of straw upon his head? CLO. Would but your Highness, as indeed I now Must call you--and upon his bended knee Never bent Subject more devotedly-- However all about you, and perhaps You to yourself incomprehensiblest, But rest in the assurance of your own Sane waking senses, by these witnesses Attested, till the story of it all, Of which I bring a chapter, be reveal'd, Assured of all you see and hear as neither Madness nor mockery-- SEG. What then? CLO. All it seems: This palace with its royal garniture; This capital of which it is the eye, With all its temples, marts, and arsenals; This realm of which this city is the head, With all its cities, villages, and tilth, Its armies, fleets, and commerce; all your own; And all the living souls that make them up, From those who now, and those who shall, salute you, Down to the poorest peasant of the realm, Your subjects--Who, though now their mighty voice Sleeps in the general body unapprized, Wait but a word from those about you now To hail you Prince of Poland, Segismund. SEG. All this is so? CLO. As sure as anything Is, or can be. SEG. You swear it on the faith You taught me--elsewhere?-- CLO (kissing the hilt of his sword). Swear it upon this Symbol, and champion of the holy faith I wear it to defend.