SOLDIER.—The art of laying two knives against one throat.
F.—And what are tactics?
S.—The art of driving them home.
F.—Supermundane lexicographer!
S.—I'll bust thy crust! (Attempts to draw his sword, gets it between his legs, and falls along.)
F. (from a distance)—Shall I summon an army, or a sexton? And will you have it of bronze, or marble?
FOOL.—When you have gained a great victory, how much of the glory goes to the horse whose back you bestrode?
SOLDIER.—Nonsense! A horse cannot appreciate glory; he prefers corn.
F.—And this you call non-appreciation! But listen. (Reads) "During the Crusades, a part of the armament of a Turkish ship was two hundred serpents." In the pursuit of glory you are at least not above employing humble auxiliaries. These be curious allies.