Read it through once

“Lo, what an imagination he hath! Verily, this is no common mind; else, crazed or sane, it could not weave so straight and gaudy a tale as this out of the airy nothings wherewith it hath wrought this curious romaunt. Poor ruined little head, it shall not lack friend or shelter whilst I bide with the living. He shall never leave my side; he shall be my pet, my little comrade. And he shall be cured!--ay, made whole and sound--then will he make himself a name--and proud shall I be to say, ‘Yes, he is mine--I took him, a homeless little ragamuffin, but I saw what was in him, and I said his name would be heard some day--behold him, observe him--was I right?’”