For such was his behest—and why was this?
Kan.
The grape is turned to red by now.
Thoas.
You’re like him,
Maybe—I’ve ne’er yet seen you draw the sword.
He drew it oft and gladly, nor at times
With any ground, I grant it if you will,
And yet ’twas good, maybe you’re fully like him;
God give his fate be yours.