20
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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;
_(Warningly)_
It falls upon thine ear, and then 'tis gone;
'Tis but a breath of air which into naught
Doth vanish. Can'st thou, thy finger on it
Put and say 'tis here? Alas, it like a
Heavenly orb doth shoot its comet way
An then twere gone. It was, but now 'tis not!
Hence it were folly, "Nothing," to pursue.
_Quezox:_ They keen philosophy falls on mine ear
Like music, as it trickles from thy brain;
But still the wound remains which venomed tongue Hath deeply stung upon my memory.
But thou hast said: an uttered thought is dead.
Perhaps 'tis so, but in the human heart,
There lingers long a mem'ry, blessed indeed,
Of those preceding us to that long home
Where, be it utter darkness which prevails,
Or light supernal with celestial ray,
Yet death hath not erased from mental scroll
The image which th' Eternal painted there.
_(En