I dreamed him still at Tours, and had no hope
To see him, for my lords were turbulent,
Grown headstrong in mine absence, and my son
Had not yet learned the art of governance:
To play on rival jealousies, and split
Alliances in factions; to dissolve
Confederacies, as an acid eats
Through base alloy of idols composite,
Till the whole crumble; to lead many weak
Against one strong, and win the name of Right,