La. Alb. What! no one here? We have not seen a soul
But the poor fool who brought us food and wine.
I'll not endure it! Are we prisoners?
Mewed up these hours, when all about there's stir
As Fate changed hands and rumbled destiny.
Such clattering, shifting, revel, and "To horse!"
And we mope here like toothless dames that long
Have lost the world!
Att. Your ladyship, the king
Will see you here.