Phantis: (breathless) He's right — we are helpless! He's no longer a human being — he's a Corporation, and so long as he confines himself to his Articles of Association we can't touch him! What are we to do?

Scaphio: Do? Raise a Revolution, repeal the Act of Sixty-Two, reconvert him into an individual, and insist on his immediate explosion! (Tarara enters.) Tarara, come here; you're the very man we want.

Tarara: Certainly, allow me. (Offers a cracker to each; they snatch them away impatiently.) That's rude.

Scaphio: We have no time for idle forms. You wish to succeed to the throne?

Tarara: Naturally.

Scaphio: Then you won't unless you join us. The King has defied us, and, as matters stand, we are helpless. So are you. We must devise some plot at once to bring the people about his ears.

Tarara: A plot?

Phantis: Yes, a plot of superhuman subtlety. Have you such a thing about you?

Tarara: (feeling) No, I think not. No. There's one on my dressing-table.

Scaphio: We can't wait — we must concoct one at once, and put it into execution without delay. There is not a moment to spare!