HENRY IV. We must pardon them. This dress (_plucking his dress_) which is for me the evident, involuntary caricature of that other continuous, everlasting masquerade, of which we are the involuntary puppets (_indicates Belcredi_) when, without knowing it, we mask ourselves with that which we appear to be ... ah, that dress of theirs, this masquerade of theirs, of course, we must forgive it them, since they do not yet see it is identical with themselves. (_Turning again to Belcredi_): You know, it is quite easy to get accustomed to it. One walks about as a tragic character, just as if it were nothing ... (_Imitates the tragic manner_) in a room like this.... Look here, doctor! I remember a priest, certainly Irish, a nice-looking priest, who was sleeping in the sun one November day, with his arm on the corner of the bench of a public garden. He was lost in the golden delight of the mild sunny air which must have seemed for him almost summery. One may be sure that in that moment he did not know any more that he was a priest, or even where he was. He was dreaming... A little boy passed with a flower in his hand. He touched the priest with it here on the neck. I saw him open his laughing eyes, while all his mouth smiled with the beauty of his dream. He was forgetful of everything.... But all at once, he pulled himself together, and stretched out his priest's cassock; and there came back to his eyes the same seriousness which you have seen in mine; because the Irish priests defend the seriousness of their Catholic faith with the same zeal with which I defend the secret rights of hereditary monarchy! I am cured, gentlemen: because I can act the mad man to perfection, here; and I do it very quietly, I'm only sorry for you that have to live your madness so agitatedly, without knowing it or seeing it. BELCREDI. It comes to this, then, that it is we who are mad. That's what it is! HENRY IV. (_containing his irritation_). But if you weren't mad, both you and she (_indicating the Marchioness_) would you have come here to see me? BELCREDI. To tell the truth, I came here believing that you were the madman. HENRY IV. (_suddenly indicating the Marchioness_). And she? BELCREDI. Ah, as for her ... I can't say. I see she is all fascinated by your words, by this _conscious_ madness of yours. (_Turns to her_). Dressed as you are (_speaking to her_), you could even remain here to live it out, Marchioness. DONNA MATILDA. You are insolent! HENRY IV. (_conciliatingly_). No, Marchioness, what he means to say is that the miracle would be complete, according to him, with you here, who--as the Marchioness of Tuscany, you well know,--could not be my friend, save, as at Canossa, to give me a little pity....