_Gel._ Let me not say gods are not. _Car._ This is fit: Conquest by blood is not so sweet as wit: For howsoe'er nice virtue censures[321] it, He hath the grace of war that hath war's profit. But Carthage, well advised that states come on 40 With slow advice, quick execution, Have here an engineer long bred for plots, Call'd an impois'ner, who knows this sound excuse: Th' only dew that makes men sprout in court is use. Be't well or ill, his thrift is to be mute; Such slaves must act commands, and not dispute. Knowing foul deeds with danger do begin, But with rewards do end: sin is no sin, But in respects---- _Gel._ Politic lord, speak low: though Heaven bears A face far from us, gods have most long ears; 51 Jove has a hundred marble marble hands. _Car._ O ay, in poetry or tragic scene! _Gel._ I fear gods only know what poets mean. _Car._ Yet hear me, I will speak close truth and cease: Nothing in Nature is unserviceable, No, not even inutility itself. Is then for nought dishonesty in being? And if it be sometimes of forcèd use, Wherein more urgent than in saving nations? 60 State shapes are solder'd up with base, nay faulty, Yet necessary functions: some must lie, Some must betray, some murder, and some all; Each hath strong use, as poison in all purges: Yet when some violent chance shall force a state To break given faith, or plot some stratagems, Princes ascribe that vile necessity Unto Heaven's wrath. And sure, though't be no vice, Yet 'tis bad chance: states must not stick too nice, For Massinissa's death sense bids forgive: 70 Beware t'offend great men, and let them live; For 'tis of empire's body the main arm,-- He that will do no good shall do no harm. You have my mind.