Chapter 12

ASTOLFO, SIGISMUND, CLARIN, Servants, and Musicians.

ASTOLFO. Thousand tunes be blest the day, Prince, that gives thee to our sight, Sun of Poland, whose glad light Makes this whole horizon gay, As when from the rosy fountains Of the dawn the stream-rays run, Since thou issuest like the sun From the bosom of the mountains! And though late do not defer With thy sovran light to shine; Round thy brow the laurel twine -- Deathless crown.

SIGISMUND. God guard thee, sir.

ASTOLFO. In not knowing me I o'erlook, But alone for this defect, This response that lacks respect, And due honour. Muscovy's Duke Am I, and your cousin born, Thus my equal I regard thee.

SIGISMUND. Did there, when I said "God guard thee," Lie concealed some latent scorn? -- Then if so, now having got Thy big name, and seeing thee vexed, When thou com'st to see me next I will say God guard thee not.

SECOND SERVANT [to ASTOLFO]. Think, your Highness, if he errs Thus, his mountain birth's at fault, Every word is an assault. [To SIGISMUND.] Duke Astolfo, sir, prefers . . . .

SIGISMUND. Tut! his talk became a bore, Nay his act was worse than that, He presumed to wear his hat.

SECOND SERVANT. As grandee.

SIGISMUND. But I am more.

SECOND SERVANT. Nevertheless respect should be Much more marked betwixt ye two Than 'twixt others.

SIGISMUND. And pray who Asked your meddling thus with me?

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