CHAMB. He is gone for, And shall attend your pleasure, sir. Meanwhile, Will not your Highness, as in courtesy, Return your royal cousin's greeting? SEG. Whose? CHAMB. Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy, my Lord, Saluted, and with gallant compliment Welcomed you to your royal title. SEG. (to Astolfo). Oh-- You knew of this then? AST. Knew of what, my Lord? SEG. That I was Prince of Poland all the while, And you my subject? AST. Pardon me, my Lord, But some few hours ago myself I learn'd Your dignity; but, knowing it, no more Than when I knew it not, your subject. SEG. What then? AST. Your Highness' chamberlain ev'n now has told you; Astolfo, Duke of Muscovy, Your father's sister's son; your cousin, sir: And who as such, and in his own right Prince, Expects from you the courtesy he shows. CHAMB. His Highness is as yet unused to Court, And to the ceremonious interchange Of compliment, especially to those Who draw their blood from the same royal fountain. SEG. Where is the lad? I weary of all this-- Prince, cousins, chamberlains, and compliments-- Where are my soldiers? Blow the trumpet, and With one sharp blast scatter these butterflies And bring the men of iron to my side, With whom a king feels like a king indeed! (Voices within. Within there! room for the Princess Estrella!) (Enter Estrella with Ladies.) ESTRELLA. Welcome, my Lord, right welcome to the throne That much too long has waited for your coming: And, in the general voice of Poland, hear A kinswoman and cousin's no less sincere. SEG. Ay, this is welcome-worth indeed, And cousin cousin-worth! Oh, I have thus Over the threshold of the mountain seen, Leading a bevy of fair stars, the moon Enter the court of heaven--My kinswoman! My cousin! But my subject?-- EST. If you please To count your cousin for your subject, sir, You shall not find her a disloyal. SEG. Oh, But there are twin stars in that heavenly face, That now I know for having over-ruled Those evil ones that darken'd all my past And brought me forth from that captivity To be the slave of her who set me free. EST. Indeed, my Lord, these eyes have no such power Over the past or present: but perhaps They brighten at your welcome to supply The little that a lady's speech commends; And in the hope that, let whichever be The other's subject, we may both be friends. SEG. Your hand to that--But why does this warm hand Shoot a cold shudder through me? EST. In revenge For likening me to that cold moon, perhaps.