Val. [from his paper.] "We, all the manufacturers of Cleves "

The D. Or stay, sir-lest I seem too covetous—
Are you my subject? such as you describe
Am I to you though to no other man?

Val. [from his paper.]-" Valence ordained your Advocate at Cleves "

The D. [replacing the coronet.] Then I remain Cleves' Duchess! Take you note,

While Cleves but yields one subject of this stamp,

I stand her lady till she waves me off!

For her sake, all the Prince claims I withhold;
Laugh at each menace; and, his power defying,
Return his missive with its due contempt!

[Casting it away. Gui. [picking it up.]-Which to the Prince I will

deliver, Lady,

[Note it down, Gaucelme]-with your message too!
The D. I think the office is a subject's, sir!
-Either... how style you him?-my special guarder
The Marshal's-for who knows but violence

May follow the delivery!-Or, perhaps,
My Chancellor's-for law may be to urge
On its receipt!-Or, even my Chamberlain's-
For I may violate established form!

[To VALENCE.] Sir,-for the half-hour till this service

The D. Give me !

[The Courtiers present their badges of office. [Putting them by.]—Whatever was their virtue once, They need new consecration! [raising VALENCE.] Are

you mine?

-I will be Duchess yet!

The Courtiers.

[She retires.

Our Duchess yet!

A glorious lady! Worthy love and dread!

I'll stand by her, and I, whate'er betide!

Gui. [to VALENCE.] Well done, well done, sir! I care

not who knows,

You have done nobly, and I envy you—

Tho' I am but unfairly used, I think :

For when one gets a place like this I hold,
One gets too the remark that its mere wages,
The pay and the preferment, make our prize-
Talk about zeal and faith apart from these,

We're laughed at-much would zeal and faith subsist
Without these also! Yet, let these be stopped,
Our wages discontinue, then, indeed,

Our zeal and faith, we hear on every side,
Are not released-having been pledged away
I wonder with what zeal and faith in turn?
Hard money purchased me my place! No, no-
I'm right, sir-but your wrong is better still,
If I had time and skill to argue it.

Therefore, I say, I'll serve you, how you please-
If you like,-fight you, as you seem to wish-
(The kinder of me that, in sober truth,
I never dreamed I did you any harm)—

Gau. Or, kinder still, you'll introduce, no doubt,
His merits to the prince who's just at hand,
And let no hint drop he's made Chancellor,

And Chamberlain, and Heaven knows what beside !
Clug. [to VALENCE.] You stare, young sir, and threaten!

Let me say,

That at your age, when first I came to court,

I was not much above a gentleman;

While now

Val.

...

-You are Head-Lackey? With your office

I have not yet been graced, sir!

Other Courtiers to Clug.

Fidelity disinterestedness

Let him talk!

Excuse so much! Men claimed my worship ever

Who, stanch and steadfastly...

At Aix, and enters almost by himself.

1st Court. The Prince! This foolish business puts

all out!

2d Court. Let Gaucelme speak first!

3d Court.

About the state of Juliers-should one say
All's prosperous and inviting him?

4th Court.

All's prostrate and imploring him!

Better I began

-Or rather

5th Court.

Where's the Cleves' paper, by the way? 4th Court. [to VALENCE.]

If you'll but give that paper-trust it me,

That's best!

Sir-sir

5th Court. Softly, sir-the Marshal's duty!

Clug. Has not the Chamberlain a hearing first By virtue of his patent?

Gau.

Patents?-Duties?

All that, my masters, must begin again!

One word composes the whole controversy—
We're simply-now the Prince's!

The Others.

Ay-the Prince's!

Enter SABYNE.

Sab. Adolf! Bid ... Oh, no time for ceremony! Where's whom our lady calls her only subject? She needs him! Who is here the Duchess's? Val. [starting from his reverie.] Most gratefully I follow to her feet!

ACT III.

Afternoon. SCENE.-The Vestibule.

Enter PRINCE Berthold and MELCHIOR.

Berth. A thriving little burgh this Juliers looks.

[Half-apart.] Keep Juliers, and as good you kept Cologne: Better try Aix, though!—

Mel.

Please 't your Highness speak?

Berth. [as before.] Aix, Cologne, Frankfort,—

Mel.

Milan ;-Rome!—

-The Grave.

-More weary seems your Highness, I remark,
Than sundry conquerors whose path I've watched
Through fire and blood to any prize they gain.
I could well wish you, for your proper sake,
Had met some shade of opposition here
-Found a blunt seneschal refuse unlock,
Or a scared usher lead your steps astray.

You must not look for next achievement's palm

So easy this will hurt your conquering!

Berth. My next? Ay-as you say, my next and next

Well, I am tired, that's truth, and moody too,

This quiet entrance-morning; listen why!
Our little burgh, now, Juliers-'tis indeed
One link, however insignificant,

Of the great chain by which I reach my hope—
-A link I must secure; but otherwise,
You'd wonder I esteemed it worth my grasp.
Just see what life is, with its shifts and turns!

It happens now-this very nook-to be

A place that once ... but a short while since, neither—
When I lived an ambiguous hanger-on

Of foreign courts, and bore my claims about,
Discarded by one kinsman, and the other
A poor priest merely, then, I say, this place
Shone my ambition's object; to be Duke-
Seemed then what to be Emperor seems now.