T.
If you please
To count your cousin for your subject, sir,
You shall not find her a disloyal.

SEG.
Oh,
But there are twin stars in that heavenly face,
That now I know for having over-ruled
Those evil ones that darken'd all my past
And brought me forth from that captivity
To be the slave of her who set me free.

EST.
Indeed, my Lord, these eyes have no such power
Over the past or present: but perhaps
They brighten at your welcome to supply
The little that a lady's speech commends;
And in the hope that, let whichever be
The other's subject, we may both be friends.

SEG.
Your hand to that--But why does this warm hand
Shoot a cold shudder through me?

EST.
In revenge
For likening me to that cold moon, perhaps.

SEG.
Oh, but the lip whose music tells me so
Breathes of a warmer planet, and that lip
Shall remedy the treason of the hand!
(He catches to embrace her.)

EST.
Release me, sir!

CHAMB.
And pardon me, my Lord.
This lady is a Princess absolute,
As Prince he is who just saluted you,
And claims her by affiance.

SEG.
Hence, old fool,
For ever thrusting that white stick of yours
Between me and my pleasure!

AST.
This cause is mine.
Forbear, sir--

SEG.
What, sir mouth-piece, you again?

AST.
My Lord, I waive your insult to myself
In recognition of the dignity
You yet are new to, and that greater still
You look in time to wear. But for this lady--
Whom, if my cousin now, I hope to claim
Henceforth by yet a nearer, dearer name--

SEG.
And what care I? She is my cousin too:
And if you be a Prince--well, am not I
Lord of the very soil you stand upon?
By that, and by that right beside of blood
That like a fiery fountain hitherto
Pent in the rock leaps toward her at her touch,
Mine, before all the cousins in Muscovy!
You call me Prince of Poland, and yourselves
My subjects--traitors therefore to this hour,
Who let me perish all my youth away
Chain'd there among the mountains; till, forsooth,
Terrified at your treachery foregone,
You spirit me up here, I know not how,
Popinjay-like invest me like yourselves,
Choke me with scent and music that I loathe,