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Ev'n in a monarch's court.—Sit down, I pray: I am myself a poor repentant sinner, But, as I trust, a brand saved from the fire. Then tell thy tale, and give thy sorrows vent: What can I do for thee?

I do not for myself entreat thy pity. But I am come from an unhappy man, Who, inly torn with agony of mind, Hath need of ghostly aid.

I am no priest.

I know thou art not, but far better, Father, For that which I entreat thee. For the cowl'd monk, in peaceful cloisters bred, Who hath for half a cent'ry undisturb'd Told o'er his beads;—what sympathy hath he For perturb'd souls, storm-toss'd i' the wicked world? Therefore Count Garcio most desires to see thee, And will to thee alone unlock his breast.

Garcio, the lord of this domain?

The same.