The MARQUIS alone.

MARQUIS.
Duke, 'tis well spoken! Turn to good account
The moment which presents itself but once!
Truly this courtier reads a useful lesson
If not in his sense good, at least in mine.

[Walks a few steps backwards and forwards.

How came I here? Is it caprice or chance
That shows me now my image in this mirror?
Why, out of millions, should it picture me—
The most unlikely—and present my form
To the king's memory? Was this but chance?
Perhaps 'twas something more!—what else is chance
But the rude stone which from the sculptor's hand
Receives its life? Chance comes from Providence,
And man must mould it to his own designs.
What the king wants with me but little matters;
I know the business I shall have with him.
Were but one spark of truth with boldness flung
Into the despot's soul, how fruitful 'twere
In the kind hand of Providence; and so
What first appeared capricious act of chance,
May be designed for some momentous end.
Whate'er it be, I'll act on this belief.

[He takes a few turns in the room, and stands at last
in tranquil contemplation before a painting. The KING
appears in the neighboring room, where he gives some
orders. He then enters and stands motionless at the door,
and contemplates the MARQUIS for some time without being
observed.