"Lad," he said, "don't say 'No!' Here's the finest lady alive sick for her lover, and the finest country in the world sick for its true king, and the best friends - aye, by Heaven, the best friends - man ever had, sick to call you master. I know nothing about your conscience, but this I know: the King's dead, and the place is empty; and I don't see what Almighty God sent you here for unless it was to fill it. Come, lad - for our love and her honour! While he was alive I'd have killed you sooner than let you take it. He's dead. Now - for our love and her honour, lad!"
(from Rupert of Hentzau, by Anthony Hope)
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