born to fill.

SEG.
The chair?

CHAMB.
The royal throne of Poland, Sir,
Which may your Royal Highness keep as long
As he that now rules from it shall have ruled
When heaven has call'd him to itself.

SEG.
When he?--

CHAMB.
Your royal father, King Basilio, Sir.

SEG.
My royal father--King Basilio.
You see I answer but as Echo does,
Not knowing what she listens or repeats.
This is my throne--this is my palace--Oh,
But this out of the window?--

CHAMB.
Warsaw, Sir,
Your capital--

SEG.
And all the moving people?

CHAMB.
Your subjects and your vassals like ourselves.

SEG.
Ay, ay--my subjects--in my capital--
Warsaw--and I am Prince of it--You see
It needs much iteration to strike sense
Into the human echo.

CHAMB.
Left awhile
In the quick brain, the word will quickly to
Full meaning blow.

SEG.
You think so?

CHAMB.
And meanwhile
Lest our obsequiousness, which means no worse
Than customary honour to the Prince
We most rejoice to welcome, trouble you,
Should we retire again? or stand apart?
Or would your Highness have the music play
Again, which meditation, as they say,
So often loves to float upon?

SEG.
The music?
No--yes--perhaps the trumpet--
(Aside)
Yet if that
Brought back the troop!

A LORD.
The trumpet! There again
How trumpet-like spoke out the blood of Poland!

CHAMB.
Before the morning is far up, your Highness
Will have the trumpet marshalling your soldiers
Under the Palace windows.

SEG.
Ah, my soldiers--
My soldiers--not black-vizor'd?--

CHAMB.
Sir?

SEG.
No matter.
But--one thing--for a moment--in your ear--
Do you know one Clotaldo?

CHAMB.
Oh, my Lord,
He and myself together, I may say,
Although in different vocations,
Have silver'd in your royal father's service;
And, as I trust, with both of us a few
White hairs to fall in yours.

SEG.
Well said, well said!
Basilio, my father--well--Clotaldo
Is he my kinsman too?

CHAMB.
Oh, my good Lord,
A General simply in your Highness' service,
Than whom your Highness has no trustier.

SEG.
A