He bears him like a prince, save that he lacks
The port serene of majesty. His mood
Is fitful; stately now, and sad; anon,
Full of a hurried mirth; courteous awhile,
And mild; then bursting, on a sudden, forth,
Into sharp, biting taunts.
* * * * *
New power
Mounts to the brain like wine. For such disease,
Your skilful leech lets blood.