Saundersonius (sharply). Yes; and we have had too much of that "tortoise-creeping" business. Sharp's the word now, I hope. Balfourius's Battering-Ram—though the murderous ruffians—I mean excited politicians—did denounce it, is better than all your tortoises!
Balfourius (completing his quotation). "Lances in ambush set."
Saundersonius. Oh yes, they're all very well—in their way. A School of Strategy for our "young bloods," with secret séances, and—ahem!—Fagin-like rehearsals, is not a bad notion. But on the whole I agree with Moloch:—
"My sentence is for open war: of wiles,
More inexpert, I boast not: there let those
Contrive who need, or when they need, not now.
For while they sit contriving, shall the rest,
Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait
The signal to arise, sit lingering here,
Prisoners of his tyranny who reigns
By our delay? No, let us rather choose,
Arm'd with hell-flames and fury all at once,
O'er these high towers to force resistless way,
Turning Obstruction into horrid arms
Against the Obstructor; when to meet the noise
Of his 'iniquitous' engine, he shall hear
Ulsterian thunder; and for lightning set
Green fire and rockets shot with equal rage
Among his 'items;' and his seat itself
Shake with Tartarean tactics, 'dirty tricks,'
His own invented dodges."
Grandolphus (tugging at Balfourius's tunic-tails). Ha! ha! ha! Well quoted, my Orange-plumed Hyperborean hero! (Aside: I must read up the bards a bit. Didn't know they were so practically pertinent. How handy that "senesque" bit came in the other day!)
Balfourius (fidgeting). I say, Grandolphus, if you'd tug at the rope, instead of my tails, I fancy you'd tire me less, and have more effect on the Ram.
Grandolphus (cheerily). Ah, my old friend, I assure you I intend to stick to you "loyally and unhesitatingly."
Balfourius (drily). Oh—thanks!!!
Chamberlainus. Never were such a United lot as we are:
(Sings sotto voce.)