SEG.
My chamberlain?--
And these that follow you?--

CHAMB.
On you, my Lord,
Your Highness' lords in waiting.

SEG.
Lords in waiting.
Well, I have now learn'd to repeat, I think,
If only but by rote--This is my palace,
And this my throne--which unadvised--And that
Out of the window there my Capital;
And all the people moving up and down
My subjects and my vassals like yourselves,
My chamberlain--and lords in waiting--and
Clotaldo--and Clotaldo?--
You are an aged, and seem a reverend man--
You do not--though his fellow-officer--
You do not mean to mock me?

CHAMB.
Oh, my Lord!

SEG.
Well then--If no magician, as you say,
Yet setting me a riddle, that my brain,
With all its senses whirling, cannot solve,