great import to our party's needs.
_Francos:_ I pray thee, hasten to the point, for time
Hath wings that bear us swiftly on.
_Gentleman:_ Most noble Governor, I sore lament
That from our noble South there be men here
Who have deep sympathy for these, who in
The past have fattened at the public crib,
And find no sympathy for Caesar's plan
To mould this commonwealth on model grand
Perfected by the chivalry front which
Both he and thou didst draw sweet childhood's milk.
These men did quick condone the ev'ry act
Which emanated from the Northern mind.
Yearly were millions spent on bootless task
Of feeding vacant minds on useless food
Because unfitted to their various needs.
"A little knowledge is a dang'rous thing"
And doth unfit the plodding mass for toil,
Which is their proper sphere; hence ev'ry thought
Hard thrust within their skulls doth discontent
Engender, and thus far stability
Doth threathen for the ruling class, and so
As in our "Sunny South" the specter grins
Prophetic of grave danger to the State.
_Francos:_ The plea doth fall on sympathetic ears.
Yet Caesar counseled in his parting words
That discord here among our party friends
Would breed distemper if 'twere not ignored.
_Both Gentlemen, despondingly:_
Alas! 'Tis so, that we who burdens bore
Are thrust aside when vict'ry crowns our work
And renegades are placed on equal terms
With loyal sons who ne'er a duty shirked.
_(Exeunt Gentlemen)._
_Francos:_ Ah! so it is. Each entity is filled
With selfish impulse which doth ever hide
Justice eternal from its clouded sight
And pigmy self exalt to giant form.
_Bonset:_ But Sire, it were the common lot of man
To seek preferment; and unless he doth,
No other will lift hand to boost him on,
Unless great wealth doth like a magnet draw
Support from those who with a greedy eye
Expect to feel most happy contact with
The shining coin, which doth a lever prove
To pry success from out the voting mob.
_Francos:_ But Bonset, see'st thou not that native worth
And mental parts may ove