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With modest backwardness, unto whose charity I must be debtor also. Worthy Heugho, Since earliest youth I from thy friendly hand Have daily kindly offices receiv'd, Proffer'd with love, exceeding far all duty Belonging to thy state; yet, ne'ertheless, I once, in a most vile and fretful mood, Vex'd with cross'd things, thine honour'd age forgot.

Oh, say not so, my dear and royal master. It breaks my heart that you should still remember.

Well, well, be not thus mov'd, my worthy Heugho, I know I am forgiv'n; but lay thy hand, Thine aged hand, upon thy master's head, And give him a last blessing. Thou art now Like to an ancient father with us grown, And my heart says that it will do me good. And now, my noble friends, it pleases me To think we all are knit in holy bands