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I am not the King—I am not the King. (Throwing himself on the ground with folded hands.) Where art thou, my King? Save me, oh, save me! I am a rebel—punish me, but do not kill me!

What is the use of shouting and cringing to the empty air? It is a much better way of spending the time to search for the way.

I shall lie down here—I shall not move an inch. Come what will, I shall not complain.

I will not allow all this nonsense. If I am to be burnt to death, you will be my companion to the very end.