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But this is not seemly, my lady—on thy knees to me?”
“My lord, you’re not well!”
“Not well? What is illness to the body of a Knight Errant? What matter wounds? For each time he falls he shall rise again and woe to the wicked! Sancho!”
“Here, your Grace!”
“My armour! My sword!”
“More misadventures!”
“Adventures, old friend!