why you are so in love with the pious grove.

_King_. My friend, think of some pretext under which we may return to
the hermitage.

_Clown_. What pretext do you need? Aren't you the king?

_King_. What of that?

_Clown_. Collect the taxes on the hermits' rice.

_King_. Fool! It is a very different tax which these hermits pay--one
that outweighs heaps of gems.

The wealth we take from common men,
Wastes while we cherish;
These share with us such holiness
As ne'er can perish.

_Voices behind the scenes_. Ah, we have found him.

_King_ (_Listening_). The voices are grave and tranquil. These must be
hermits. (_Enter the door-keeper_.)

_Door-keeper_. Victory, O King. There are two hermit-youths at the
gate.

_King_. Bid them enter at once.

_Door-keeper_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He goes out, then returns with the