Fior. I glory in it.
And when he did return, (but still with conquest,)
His armour off, not young Antinous
Appear'd more courtly; all the graces that
Render a man's society dear to ladies,
Like pages waiting on him; and it does
Work strangely on me.
Giov. To divert your thoughts,
Though they are fix'd upon a noble subject,
I am a suitor to you.
Fior. You will ask,
I do presume, what I may grant, and then
It must not be denied.
Giov. It is a favour
For which I hope your excellence will thank me.
Fior. Nay, without circumstance.
Giov. That you would please
To take occasion to move the duke,
That you, with his allowance, may command
This matchless virgin, Lidia, (of whom
I cannot speak too much,) to wait upon you.
She's such a one, upon the forfeit of
Your good opinion of me, that will not
Be a blemish to your train.
Fior. 'Tis rank! he loves her:
But I will fit him with a suit. [Aside.]—I pause not,
As if it bred or doubt or scruple in me
To do what you desire, for I'll effect it,
And make use of a fair and fit occasion;
Yet, in return, I ask a boon of you,
And hope to find you, in your grant to me,
As I have been to you.
Giov. Command me, madam.
Fior. 'Tis near allied to yours. That you would be
A suitor to the duke, not to expose,
After so many trials of his faith,
The noble Sanazarro to all dangers,
As if he were a wall to stand the fury
Of a perpetual battery: but now
To grant him, after his long labours, rest
And liberty to live in court; his arms
And his victorious sword and shield hung up
For monuments.
Giov. Umph!—I'll embrace, fair princess,