_Sanaz._ 'Tis proved in me: the curse of human frailty, Adding to our afflictions, makes us know What's good; and yet our violent passions force us To follow what is ill. Reason assured me It was not safe to shave a lion's skin; And that to trifle with a sovereign was To play with lightning: yet imperious beauty, Treading upon the neck of understanding, Compell'd me to put off my natural shape Of loyal duty, to disguise myself In the adulterate and cobweb-mask Of disobedient treachery. Where is now My borrow'd greatness, or the promised lives Of following courtiers echoing my will? In a moment vanish'd! Power that stands not on Its proper base, which is peculiar only To absolute princes, falls or rises with Their frown or favour. The great duke, my master, (Who almost changed me to his other self,) No sooner takes his beams of comfort from me, But I, as one unknown, or unregarded, Unpitied suffer. Who makes intercession To his mercy for me now? who does remember The service I have done him? not a man: And such as spake no language but my lord The favourite of Tuscany's grand duke, Deride my madness.--Ha! what noise of horses? [_He looks out at the back window._ A goodly troop! This back part of my prison Allows me liberty to see and know them. Contarino! yes, 'tis he, and Lodovico[89]: And the duchess Fiorinda, Urbin's heir, A princess I have slighted: yet I wear Her favours; and, to teach me what I am, She whom I scorn'd can only mediate for me. This way she makes, yet speak to her I dare not; And how to make suit to her is a task Of as much difficulty.--Yes, thou blessed pledge [_Takes off the ring._ Of her affection, aid me! This supplies The want of pen and ink; and this, of paper. [_Takes a pane of glass._ It must be so; and I in my petition Concise and pithy. [_Exit._ FOOTNOTE: [89] _Lodovico_,] i. e. _Lodovico Hippolito_. SCENE II. _The Court before_ CHAROMONTE'_s House_. _Enter_ CONTARINO, _leading in_ FIORINDA, ALPHONSO, HIPPOLITO, HIERONIMO, _and_ CALAMINTA. _Fior._ 'Tis a goodly pile, this. _Hier._ But better by the owner. _Alph._ But most rich In the great states[90] it covers. _Fior._ The duke's pleasure Commands us hither. _Cont._ Which was laid on us To attend you to it. _Hip._ Signior Charomonte, To see your excellence his guest, will think Himself most happy. _Fior._ Tie my shoe.--[_The pane falls down._]--What's that? A pane thrown from the window, no wind stirring! _Calam._ And at your feet too fall'n:--there's something writ on 't. _Cont._ Some courtier, belike, would have it known He wore a diamond. _Calam._ Ha! it is directed To the princess Fiorinda. _Fior._ We will read it. [_Reads._