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Ros. (taking hold of him.) Stay, stay, and do not be a madman still.

Bas. Let go thy hold; what, must I be a brute,
A very brute to please thee? no, by heav'n!
(Breaks from him, and Exit.)

Ros. (striking his forehead.)All lost again! black curses light upon her!
(Turning eagerly to Isab.)
And so thy virtuous mistress sends thee here
To make appointments, hon'rable dame?

Isab. Not so, my lord, you must not call it so;
The court will hunt to-morrow, and Victoria
Would have your noble gen'ral of her train.

Ros. Confound these women, and their artful snares,
Since men will be such fools!

Isab. Yes, grumble at our empire as you will—

Ros. What, boast ye of it? empire do ye call it?
It is your shame! a short liv'd tyranny
That ends at last in hatred and contempt.

Isab. Nay, but some women do so wisely rule,
Their subjects never from the yoke escape.

Ros. Some women do, but they are rarely found.
There is not one in all your paltry court
Hath wit enough for the ungen'rous task.
'Faith! of you all, not one, but brave Albini,
And she disdains it.—Good be with you, lady!
(Going.)

Isab. O! would I could but touch that stubborn heart,