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"My lord duke," said one of his attendants, "is your grace not weary of
exposing his dear life unneedfully? Why tarry we here?"
"Catesby," returned the duke, "here is the battle, not elsewhere. The
rest are but feigned onslaughts. Here must we vanquish. And for the
exposure--if ye were an ugly hunchback, and the children gecked at you
upon the street, ye would count your body cheaper, and an hour of glory
worth a life. Howbeit, if ye will, let us ride on and visit the other
posts. Sir Richard here, my namesake, he shall still hold this entry,
where he wadeth to the ankles in hot blood. Him can we trust. But mark
it, Sir Richard, ye are not yet done. The worst is yet to ward. Sleep
not."
He came right up to young Shelton, looking him hard in the eyes, and
taking his hand in both of his, gave it so extreme a squeeze that the
blood had nearly spurted. Dick quailed before his eyes. The insane
excitement, the courage, and the cruelty that he read therein filled him
with dismay about the future. This young duke's was indeed a gallant
spirit, to ride foremost in the ranks of war; but after the battle, in
the days of peace and in the circle of his trusted friends, that mind, it
was to be dreaded, would continue to bring forth the fruits of death.
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