None but the wretched needs my prayers, my lord.
Guido
Then must I need them, lady.
Duchess
How is that?
Does not the Duke show thee sufficient honour?
Guido
Your Grace, I lack no favours from the Duke,
Whom my soul loathes as I loathe wickedness,
But come to proffer on my bended knees,
My loyal service to thee unto death.
Duchess
Alas! I am so fallen in estate
I can but give thee a poor meed of thanks.
Guido [seizing her hand]