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An Apartment in the Palace; and  are discovered playing at Chess; the Countess  sitting by them, reading to herself.

Vict. Away with it, I will not play again; May men no more look foolish in my presence If thou art not a cheats, an errant cheat.

Isab. To swear that I am false by such an oath, Should prove me honest, since its forfeiture Would bring your highness gain.

Vict. Thou 'rt wrong, my Isabella, simple maid, For in the very forfeit of this oath, There's death to all the dearest pride of women. May man no more look foolish in my presence!

Isab. And does your grace, hail'd by applauding crouds, In all the graceful eloquence address'd Of most accomplish'd, noble, courtly youths, Prais'd in the songs of heav'n-inspired bards; Those awkward proofs of admiration prize, The rustick swain his village fair-one pays?

Vict. O! love will master all the pow'r of art, Ay all! and she who never has beheld The polish'd courtier, or the tuneful sage, Before the glances of her conq'ring eye, A very native simple swain become, Has only vulgar charms. To make the cunning artless, tame the rude, Subdue the haughty, shake th'undaunted soul;