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1642, the Eve of the English Civil War:

King Charles I sat with three of his trusted advisors, studying the young troubadour standing before them in the King's Court.
'What is your name, boy?' asked the King.
'Henry, my liege' he replied, bowing his head.
'You play the lute?'
'I do, my liege'
'Then play on, boy, play on!' the King roared.
Henry began his ballad, a plaintive melody about a faraway love.
King Charles held up his hand.
'Stop, stop...Henry, that was awful.'
'I...I'm sorry' he stuttered.
'Guards! Take him away! I have a Civil War to prepare for.'

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