Act the First
Scene I
Enter Phædria and Parmeno.
Phæd. And what then shall I do? not go? not now?
When she herself invites me? or were’t best
Fashion my mind no longer to endure
These harlots’ impudence?—Shut out! recall’d!
Shall I return? No, not if she implore me.
Par. Oh brave! oh excellent! if you maintain it!
But if you try, and can’t go through with spirit,
And finding you can’t bear it, uninvited,
Your peace unmade, all of your own accord,
You come and swear you love, and can’t endure it,
Good-night! all’s over! ruin’d and undone
She’ll jilt you, when she sees you in her pow’r.
Phæd. You then, in time consider and advise!
Par. Master! the thing which hath not in itself
Or measure or advice, advice can’t rule.
In love are all these ills: suspicions, quarrels,
Wrongs, reconcilements, war, and peace again:
Things thus uncertain, if by reason’s rules
You’d certain make, it were as wise a task
To try with reason to run mad. And now
What you in anger meditate—I her?
That him?—that me? that would not—pardon me!
I would die rather: No! she shall perceive
How much I am a man.—Big words like these,
She in good faith with one false tiny drop,
Which, after grievous rubbing, from her eyes
Can scarce perforce be squeez’d, shall overcome.
Nay, she shall swear, ’twas you in fault, not she;
You too shall own th’ offense, and pray for pardon.
Phæd. Oh monstrous! monstrous! now indeed I see
How false she is, and what a wretch I am!
Spite of myself I love; and knowing, feeling,
With open eyes run on to my destruction;
And what to do I know not.
Par. What to do?
What should you do, Sir, but redeem yourself
As cheaply as you can?—at easy rates
If possible—if not—at any rate——
And never vex yourself.
Phæd. Is that your counsel?
Par. Aye, if you’re wise; and do not add to love
More troubles than it has, and those it has
Bear bravely! But she comes, our ruin comes;
For she, like storms of hail on fields of corn,
Beats down our hopes, and carries all before her.