As 't is, sir, I am spared both toil and sneer.
These are the papers.
Vic. Well, sir? I suppose
You hardly burned them. Now for your result!
Cha. I never should have done great things, of course,
But ... oh my father, had you loved me more!
Vic. Loved? [Aside.] Has D'Ormea played me false, I wonder?
[Aloud.] Why, Charles, a king's love is diffused—yourself
May overlook, perchance, your part in it.
Our monarchy is absolutest now