You were the master, he the servant.

You were the King." "And when can the King do what he wills instead of what he must?
Maria, if you and I had met before I sent Charles Wogan to search out a wife for me--" Maria Vittoria knelt up.

She drew herself away.
"He chose her as your wife ?" "If only I had had time to summon him back!" "He chose her--Charles Wogan.

How I hate him!" "I sent him to make the choice." "And he might have gone no step beyond Bologna.

There was I not a mile distant ready to his hand! But I was too mean, too despicable--" "Maria, hush!" And the troubled voice in which he spoke rang with so much pain that she was at once contrite with remorse.
"My lord, I hurt you, so you see how I am proven mean.