That snarl and bite each other, while they wait
The master's whip, enforcing peace. The days
When nations would imperil all to keep
Their liberties, are only memories now.
The common cause is lost,--and thou art brought,
The captive of some mercenary raid,
Some profitable, honourless foray,
To serve within my house. Dost thou fare well?
RUAHMAH:
Master, thou seest.