And prudent; but of this I will not speak,
For I am also modest. Let me plead,
Persuade, and reason you to choose for peace.
This golden yoke may be a bitter draught,
But better far to fold it in our arms,
Than risk our cargoes in the savage horn
Of war. Shall we imperil all our wealth,
Our valuable lives? Nobles are few,
Rich men are rare, and wise men rarer still;
The precious jewels on the tree of life,
Wherein the common people are but brides
And clay and rubble. Let the city go,
But save the corner-stones that float the ship!
Have I not spoken well?

BENBADAD: [_Shaking his head._]
Excellent well!
Most eloquent! But misty in the meaning.

HAZAEL: [_With cold decision._]
Then let me speak, O King, in plainer words!
The days of independent states are past:
The tide of empire sweeps across the earth;
Assyria rides it with resistless power
And thunders on to subjugate the world.
Oppose her, and we fight with Destiny;
Submit to her demands, and we shall ride
With her to victory. Therefore return
This bloody horn, the symbol of wild war,
With words of soft refusal, and accept