"Be flames everlasting the dwelling of my soul if any other motive drove me to this shameful trade." There was a pause.

His beautiful eyes flamed with a sudden light as they rested on me.

Then the lids drooped demurely, and he drew a deep breath.
But when he spoke there was scorn in his voice.
"And, no doubt, it was that same motive kept you there, at peace for three whole years, in slothful ease, the motleyed Fool, jesting and capering for his enemy's delectation--you, a man with the knightly memory of your foully-wronged parent to cry hourly shame upon you.

No doubt you lacked the opportunity to bring the tyrant to account.

Or was it that you were content to let him make a mock of you so long as he housed and fed you and clothed you in your garish livery of shame?
"Spare me, Excellency," I cried again.