Is he thy friend, or of thy blood,
To find such favor in thine eyes?
Nay, were he thine own mother's son,
Still, thou art king, and the law stands.
It were not meet the balance swerved,
The sword were broken in thy hands.
But being nothing, as he is,
Why for no cause make sad thy face?--
Lo, I am old! Three kings, ere thee,
Have I seen reigning in this place.