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Come, no more line-for-lines! Let him jump in

And sit in the scale himself, with all his books,

His wife, his children, his Cephisophon!

I'll back two lines of mine against the lot!

Room for the King!

Well, is the strife decided?

I won't decide! The men are both my friends;

Why should I make an enemy of either?

The one's so good, and I so love the other!

In that case you must give up all you came for!

And if I do decide?

Why, not to make

Your trouble fruitless, you may take away

Whichever you decide for.

Hearty thanks!

Now, both, approach, and I'll explain.—I came

Down here to fetch a poet: "Why a poet?"

That his advice may guide the City true