_Enter the_ DUKE OF MILAN _in pilgrim's apparel._
_Duke of M._ This is the chance of fickle Fortune's wheel; A prince at morn, a pilgrim ere't be night; I, which erewhile did dain for to possess The proudest palace of the western world, Would now be glad a cottage for to find, To hide my head; so Fortune hath assign'd. Thrice Hesperus with pomp and peerless pride Hath heav'd his head forth of the eastern seas, Thrice Cynthia, with Phœbus' borrow'd beams, Hath shown her beauty through the darkish clouds, Since that I, wretched duke, have tasted aught, Or drunk a drop of any kind of drink. Instead of beds set forth with ebony, The greenish grass hath been my resting-place, And for my pillow stuff'd with down, The hardish hillocks have suffic'd my turn. Thus I, which erst had all things at my will, A life more hard then death do follow still.
_Cari._ [_aside_]. Methinks I hear, not very far from hence, Some woful wight lamenting his mischance: I'll go and see if that I can espy Him where he sits, or overhear his talk.
_Duke of M._ O Milan, Milan, little dost thou think, How that thy duke is now in such distress! For if thou didst, I soon should be releas'd Forth of this greedy gulf of misery.
_Cari._ [_aside_]. The Milan Duke! I thought as much before, When first I glanc'd mine eyes upon his face. This is the man which was the only cause That I was forc'd to fly from Arragon. High Jove be prais'd which hath allotted me So fit a time to quite that injury.-- Pilgrim, God speed.
_Cari._ Methought as now I heard you for to speak Of Milan-land: pray, do you know the same?
_Duke of M._ Ay, aged father, I have cause to know Both Milan-land and all the parts thereof.
_Cari._ Why, then, I doubt not but you can resolve Me of a question that I shall demand.
_Duke of M._ Ay, that I can, whatever that it be.
_Cari._ Then, to be brief: not twenty winters past, When these my limbs, which wither'd are with age, Were in the prime and spring of all their youth, I, still desirous, as young gallants be, To see the fashions of Arabia, My native soil, and in this pilgrim's weed, Began to travel through unkennèd lands. Much ground I pass'd, and many soils I saw; But when my feet in Milan-land I set, Such sumptuous triumphs daily there I saw As never in my life I found the like. I pray, good sir, what might the occasion be, That made the Milans make such mirth and glee?