And, more degrading still, the patronage
Of the Colonna. Of the tallest trees
The roots delve deepest. Yes, I've trod thy halls,
Scorned and derided midst their ribald crew,
A licensed jester, save the cap and bells,
I have borne this—and I have borne the death,
The unavenged death, of a dear brother.
I seemed, I was, a base, ignoble slave.
What am I?—Peace, I say!—What am I now?
Head of this great republic, chief of Rome—