But now you talk in riddles, King, and I wonder what it is you would have me do. Obviously, I advise you to give thanks you were born a man, because that sturdier sex has so much less need to bother over breakage. Gogyrvan told him. Duke Jurgen for the second time looked properly horrified. Your aphorisms, King, are abominable, and of a sort unlikely to quiet my misery.
Youth can afford ideals, being vigorous enough to stand the hard knocks they earn their possessor.
But I am an old fellow cursed with a tender heart and tolerably keen eyes. That combination, Messire de Logreus, is one whi ch very often forces me to jeer out of season, simply because I know myself to be upon the verge of far more untimely tears. Thus Gogyrvan replied. He was silent for a while, and he contemplated the fire. And somewhere one of those roofs harbours a girl whom we will call Lynette.