That hides behind its fol'age justice sweet So deep within those shades that e'en the sun Of righteousness reveals its presence not. For such compassion's bowels ne'er should yearn, And yet mine eyes behold a handiwork Which were the offspring but of earnest zeal; Yet since example's perfect work is done, The pattern to oblivion's shades we'll cast. But I to mine uneasy couch will hie. The morrow's cares may feed upon their day! _(Slowly retires)_ _Scene. Governor's office._ _Francos:_ Good Halstrom, to my mind uncertainty Is but a mental sore, which cancer like, Doth spread its roots until the surgeon's knife With sharp incision shall the curse remove. So must I cross the Rubicon and strike The foe in parts most vulnerable. Caesar, from the deep cavern of his mind, Hath fashioned, with a statesman's ready hand, A plan which we must now inaugurate, Amid the cruel jeers of all who long Have watched the workings of the dark hued mind Excepting only such as office seek. _Halstrom:_ My Liege, thy look doth seem to answer woo And my stern schooling bids me to obey, But it were act from gross presumption born To, from my lowly post, advice bestow. _Enters Seldonskip:_ Well Gov'nor, standing just outside the door There are two chaps who loudly make the claim That they are sure expected at this hour To hobnob with you on some public stunt. _Francos:_ Hold, Seldonskip! Thy tongue unruly wags Like to the shuttle on its weaving way To fashion fabric of but little worth 'Twere well to throttle it or else belike A pebble small, in gear of great machine Disaster grave may work to wheels of state. _(Seldonskip retires.)_ _Turns to Halstrom:_ Good Halstrom, quick I prithee do repair To outer chamber and with pleasant mien Escort these high officials with all state Unto our presence, when I will undo The mischief, by soft words clothed with a smile. _(Enters Quezox: Speaks):_ Most honored Francos, I had closed mine ear But Seldonskip like to a jackass brayed And I perforce did catch his words distraught, Which seemed to fling an insult in thy face. And cast contempt upon our worthy sons. If concord sweet shall lend us helping hand I fear me much this yokel must go hence For he doth gag us with his silly tongue! _Francos:_ Patience, good Quezox. Heed no idle word;