The offices Of the Priori and Gonfalonieri Have been abolished.

All the magistrates Are now his creatures.

Liberty is dead.
The very memory of all honest living Is wiped away, and even our Tuscan tongue Corrupted to a Lombard dialect.
IPPOLITO.
And worst of all his impious hand has broken The Martinella,--our great battle bell, That, sounding through three centuries, has led The Florentines to victory,--lest its voice Should waken in their souls some memory Of far-off times of glory.
NARDI.
What a change Ten little years have made! We all remember Those better days, when Niccola Capponi, The Gonfaloniere, from the windows Of the Old Palace, with the blast of trumpets, Proclaimed to the inhabitants that Christ Was chosen King of Florence; and already Christ is dethroned, and slain, and in his stead Reigns Lucifer! Alas, alas, for Florence! IPPOLITO.
Lilies with lilies, said Savonarola; Florence and France! But I say Florence only, Or only with the Emperor's hand to help us In sweeping out the rubbish.
NARDI.
Little hope Of help is there from him.

He has betrothed His daughter Margaret to this shameless Duke.
What hope have we from such an Emperor?
IPPOLITO.
Baccio Valori and Philippo Strozzi, Once the Duke's friends and intimates are with us, And Cardinals Salvati and Ridolfi.
We shall soon see, then, as Valori says, Whether the Duke can best spare honest men, Or honest men the Duke.
NARDI.
We have determined To send ambassadors to Spain, and lay Our griefs before the Emperor, though I fear More than I hope.
IPPOLITO.
The Emperor is busy With this new war against the Algerines, And has no time to listen to complaints From our ambassadors; nor will I trust them, But go myself.

All is in readiness For my departure, and to-morrow morning I shall go down to Itri, where I meet Dante da Castiglione and some others, Republicans and fugitives from Florence, And then take ship at Gaeta, and go To join the Emperor in his new crusade Against the Turk.