A better head her glorious body fits. Than his that shakes for age and feebleness. What should I don this robe and trouble you? Be chosen with proclamations today. Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life. And set abroad new business for you all? Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years. And led my country’s strength successfully. And buried one-and-twenty valiant sons, Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, field of battle, battleground, field of combat in right and service of their noble country. Just claim, rights, title. Give me a staff of honour for mine age. But not a sceptre to control the world. Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.