Ye have drawn a fair picture of this mortal me, and though from the grace of the picture the colours may fade by time, may give by weather, may be spoiled by chance, yet my loyal mind, nor time with her swift wings shall overtake, nor the misty clouds may darken, nor chance with her slippery foot may overthrow.

It sets its course by the heart of England, and when it passeth there shall be found that one shall be left behind who shall be surety of all that hath been lying in the dim warehouse of fate for England's high future.

Be sure that in this thing I have entered into the weigh-house, and I hold the balance, and ye shall be well satisfied.

Ye have been fruitful in counsel, ye have been long knitting a knot never tied, ye shall have comfort soon.

But know ye beyond peradventure that I have bided my time with good reason.