Being subjected to this mantra once more re-evokes the perseveration we routinely suffer in the moral ambiguity characterising our supposedly post-politics milieu.

Then Vna gan to aske, if ought he knew, / Or heard abroad of that her champion trew, / That in his armour bare a croslet red.

Righto; that’s all Sir Garnet. I like to see you civvies act up to your name.

The cane was undoubtedly of foreign make, for it had a solid silver ferrule at one end, which was not English hall–marked.