KING.
Speak out, Harold!
HAROLD. The grenadiers have noticed with deep regret that you fatigue yourself of late too much with the cares of the army. We protest against it—
KING.
Zounds and fury!—Here's rebellion! YOU protest against it?
HAROLD (bluntly.)
We do. You are getting to be an old man—a very old man—and are too much afoot.
KING.
I can do as I like about it, I suppose?
HAROLD. Certainly not; and you will, therefore, in future, be good enough to use your carriage more and your legs less.
KING.
What do the grenadiers FEAR?
HAROLD. We fear nothing but the loss of your health, the loss of your life, or the loss of your favor, sire.
KING.
Don't you fear the loss of my temper at your bluntness—eh, old comrade?
HAROLD.
No, sire; we know you like it.