"God knows what pleasure it gives me to sit down of a winter evening and read the chronicles and histories, and you yourself know that I treat the sword of Carolus Magnus (the old man pronounced the second syllable long), which has now for a thousand years and more been in the possession of the Oberhof, as I do the apple of my eye, and consequently" "The sword of Charles the Great!" exclaimed the Collector scornfully.

"All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, gun, or need of any engine Would I not have; but nature should bring forth Of its own kind, all foizen, all abundance To feed my innocent people.

Or solely your sword, better a bad toole then none at all.

" Sang Sire Edward: "I sing of Death, that comes unto the king, And lightly plucks him from the cushioned throne; And drowns his glory and his warfaring In unrecorded dim oblivion; And girds another with the sword thereof; And sets another in his stead to reign; And ousts the remnant, nakedly to gain Styx' formless shore and nakedly complain Midst twittering ghosts lamenting life and love.