[Exit Servant.
Nor messengers, nor letters! this alarms me!
But what care I: e’en let the princes come;
When come, there’s room enough i’th’ ground for them.
But, soft! now let me weigh my present state;
For much I fear these Barons’ proffer’d friendship.
“Their niggard show of liberality
“Suits ill my lofty aim, and but the semblance wears
“Of that my soul is thirsting for—dominion!
“Not rivetted by closer ties, their chief, tho’ friendly,