RAKHAZ:
Am I a statesman? I felt something of the kind about me.
But what is a statesman?
SHUMAKIM:
A politician that is stuffed with big words; a fat man in a
mask; one that plays a solemn tune on a sackbut full o' wind.
HAZAEL:
And what is a politician?
SHUMAKIM:
A statesman that has dropped his mask and cracked his sackbut.
Men trust him for what he is, and he never deceives them,
because he always lies.
IZDUBHAR:
Why do you call me a patriot?
SHUMAKIM:
Because you know what is good for you; you love your country
as you love your pelf. You feel for the common people,--as
the wolf feels for the sheep.
SABALLIDIN:
And what am I?
SHUMAKIM:
A fool, master, just a plain fool; and there is hope of thee
for that reason. Embrace me, brother, and taste this; but
not too much,--it will intoxicate thee with sobriety.
[The hall has been slowly filling with courtiers and
soldiers; a crowd of people begin to come up the steps
at the rear, where they are halted by a chain guarded
by servants of the palace.
Pages:
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291