But to our purpose.—I am bidden, sir,
I and my noble comrades, here, of Calais,
Thus lowly, at your feet, to tender to you
Our city's keys;—[Kneels and lays the Keys at the Foot of the Throne.]—and they do guard a treasure
Well worth a king's acceptance; for they yield
A golden opportunity to mightiness
Of comforting the wretched. Take but these,
And turn our ponderous portals on the hinge,
And you will find, in every street, a document,