“You have here before ye,” quoth the old man, “Solon; and these are the seven sages, native of Greece, but renowned throughout the universe. He there in the mortar is that Anaxarchus that was pounded to death by command of Nicocreon. He with the flat nose is Socrates; the little crump-shouldered wretch was the famous Aristotle; and t’other there, the divine Plato. Those in the corner are all of the same profession too, grave and learned philosophers, that have displeased tyrants with their writings; and, in fine, the world is stored with their works and hell with the authors. To come to the point, most mighty Lucifer, we are all of us dealers in politics, great writers and deep-read men in the maxims of State and Government. We have digested policy into a method, and laid down certain rules, by which princes may make themselves great and beloved. We have advised them impartially to administer justice; to reward virtue, as well military as civil; to employ able men, banish flatterers; to put men of wisdom and integrity in places of trust; to reward or punish without passion, and according to the merits of the cause, as God’s vice-gerents. And this now is our offence. We name no body, we design no body; but ’tis crime enough to wish well to the way and to the lovers of virtue.” With that, turning toward the tyrants. “Oh most unjust princes,” said he, “those glorious kings and emperors from whom we took the model of our laws and instructions are now in a state of rest and comfort, while you are tormented. Numa is now a star in the firmament and Tarquin a fire-brand in hell. And the memory of Augustus and Trajan is still fresh and fragrant, when the names of Nero and Sardanapalus are more putrid and odious than their bodies.” When Dionysius the tyrant heard this, (with his companions about him) flesh and blood could hold no longer; and he cried out in a rage, “That roguy philosopher has told a thousand lies. Legislators, with a pox? Yes, yes, they are sweet legislators, and princes have many a fair obligation to them. No, no, sirrah,” says he to Solon, “you are all of you a company of quacks; ye prate and speculate of things ye don’t understand; and with your damned moralities set the people agog upon liberty, cry up the doctrine of free-born subjects, and then our portion is persecution in one world and infamy in t’other.”