he suffers in the legs.
- Your Grace is sad tonight.
- What can we do to cheer Your Grace?
What could you do to cheer my loneliness?
Your Grace is lonely?
- Ah, that is the penalty of greatness, sire.
- Greatness?
l would exchange it all to be my lowest groom who sleeps above the stablewith a wife who loves him.
Your Majesty, uh, there is one matter, one most urgent matter.