If I am overbold, ’tis for your welfare.
Believe my words, the many thousand folk
That stream t’assembly hither,—ay, albeit
They walk in finer wool and fare the daintier,—
Are just as fond or pious-prim as I.
This crown here and your head—these are for them,
Your henchman vouches, halves of a single whole,
And in like grade this sword here and your arm.
Kan.
And that’s the thought of all?