I sometimes wish they would swagger more now, buy bigger overcoats and wilder hats, and retain those traces of make-up that put them outside respectability and keep them rogues and vagabonds, which is what, at heart - bless 'em - they are.
When after many battles past, both tir'd with blows, make peace at last, what is it, after all, the people get? Why! Taxes, widows, wooden legs, and debt.