Of my approach, and tell them, for yourself,
I will not look too strictly at my house:
An absent lord trains careless servitors.
I wish no bonfires lighted on the hills,
No peaceful cannon roused to mimic wrath;
Say, I have seen cities burn, and shouting ranks
Of solid steel-clad footmen melt away
Before a hundred pieces. Say I come for rest,
Not jollity; and all I seek
Is a calm welcome in their lighted eyes,