SCENE. A desert place. Enter three senior members of Cabinet.
When shall the party keep its reign
In plunder, fighting or in vain?
When the Yom Kippur is done,
When the cattle’s lost and won.
That will be the betting of the sun.
Where the place?
Upon her wreath.
There to meet with MacRudd.
Don’t come, Graymalcolm.
Boats are votes, and votes are boats:
Floating ’cross the country’s moats.
What hast thou seen, Albo?
Albo, how now?
Here I have an iron tum:
Shallow words; his thoughts are none.
A plumb, a plumb!
MacRudd doth come.
Three feared sisters, plea to thee,
Posers of our girt and sea,
Thus do go to flaunt, to flaunt:
Price to swine and spice to Pyne
And vice again, to wine and dine.
Peace! The swine’s bound up.