My dears,’ he discourses to them — how he licks his gums, long toothless, as he speaks of his forages into the well-stored cellars:.
And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince, / Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy, / Making defeat on the full power of France, / Whiles his most mighty father on a hill / Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp / Forage in blood of French nobility.