Kind and gracious princess, more than friend, I’ve come to thank thee for thy goodness, And to breathe into thy generous ears My last and sad farewell. I go to join The fortunes of my race, and to put aside All other bright advantages, save The approval of my conscience and the meed Of rightly doing. What means, my son, this strange election? What wild chimera floats across thy mind? What sudden impulse moves thy soul? Thou who Hast only trod the court of kings, why seek Instead the paths of labor? Thou, whose limbs Have known no other garb than that which well Befits our kingly state, why rather choose The badge of servitude and toil?…
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