_Francos:_ Most noble Caesar, thou at wisdom's fount Hast drunk until the fountain hath run dry. I ready stand to follow each command Ignoring every judgment of mine own. _Caesar:_ When I before the gods did minister, I learned that strategy cured many ills; And when Parnassus high I made my throne, I found it well to wield an iron hand. And now to work our pleasure in these Isles, 'Twere best to blend these methods in our scheme, Whilst thou with honeyed tongue shall words employ The callow forum shall my will obey. But silence! put a padlock on thy tongue; A word unspoken never worketh harm. While he who babbles layeth down his shield, And thus an enemy may work his death. _Francos:_ Mine ears are open to thine every word, Would that they could but hear in distant Isles; For when I beard the lion in his den, Thy potent thoughts were then a healing balm. _Caesar:_ Thou sayest well, Francos, but lend an ear; Avoid our enemies; they counsel ill. _(To Page)_ But, page, entreat sweet Quezox to attend While we in converse measure every act. _Enter Quezox:_ Most honored sire, I come at thy command, And wait your pleasure; if by any means My words, convincing, can this matter solve: The land that bore me bids me loud proclaim. So we consider wisely, let us call The Commoner, whose wisdom is renowned. That he may with us weigh each tangled point, And thus make our solution doubly sure. _Caesar:_ Sweet Quezox, caution is a precious thing. And while 'tis known that council oft is wise, Yet it were better Wilhelm were left out For he hath visions which from tender plants To forest monarchs grow, with roots so deep Emplanted in the soil, that naught can stir. Beside, financial ills have him beset, And he now eager, filthy lucre seeks. _Francos:_ Most honored sire, I would from Quezox learn What stern encounters I must early meet. He from the first did see the canker grow And hath a remedy, methinks, conceived. _Caesar:_ Speak, Quezox, speak! and free thy surging mind. For well I know abuses rankle there. Our enemies politic, firm entrenched, Have borne with heavy hand upon thy race. _Quezox:_ Ah noble sire, how well thy mind conceives The ills which bear my hapless people down. Much learning fits thee for the ruler's seat And keen discernment flashes from thine eye. There pigmies move within a circle charmed And fatten on rich spoils with cruel glee. They force their alien ways with tyrant hands