Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heaven
Thus trampled, thus expelled to suffer here
Chains and these torments? Better these than worse,
By my advice; since fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The victor's will. To suffer, as to do,
Our strength is equal, nor the law unjust
That so ordains: this was at first resolved,
If we were wise, against so great a foe
Contending, and so doubtful what might fall,
I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold
And vent'rous, if that fail them, shrink, and fear
What yet they know must follow-to endure
Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
The sentence of their conqueror.
Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
Our supreme foe in time may much remit
His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed,
Not mind us not offending, satisfied
With what is punished; whence these raging fires
Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.
Our purer essence then will overcome
Their noxious vapour, or inured not feel,
Or changed at length, and to the place conformed
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light;
Besides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting, since our present lot appears
For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,
If we procure not to ourselves more woe.”
Scene from "The Hunchback."
Helen. I'm weary wandering from room to room;
A castle after all is but a house-
The dullest one when lacking company.
Were I at home, I could be company
Unto myself. I see not Master Walter.
He's ever with his ward. I see not her.
By Master Walter will she bide, alone.
My father stops in town. I can't see him.
My cousin makes his books his company.
I'll go to bed and sleep. No-I'll stay up
And plague my cousin into making love!
For, that he loves me, shrewdly I suspect.
How dull he is, that hath not sense to see
What lies before him, and he'd like to find!
I'll change my treatment of him. Cross him, where
Before I used to humour him. He comes,
Poring upon a book. What's that you read?
Mod. Latin, sweet cousin.
Helen. 'T is a naughty tongue, I fear, and teaches men to lie.
Helen. You study it. You call your cousin sweet, And treat her as you would a crab.
T would seem you think her, so you covet her!
Why how the monster stares, and looks about!
You construe Latin, and can't construe that!
Mod. I never studied women.
Else would you better know their ways; nor read
In presence of a lady.
Mod. Right you say,
[Strikes the book from his hand.
And well you served me, cousin, so to strike
The volume from my hand. I own my fault;
So please you may I pick it up again?
I'll put it in my pocket!
He fears me as I were his grandmother!
What is the book?
Mod. 'T is Ovid's Art of Love.
Helen. That Ovid was a fool!
Mod. In what?
Helen. In that!
To call that thing an art, which art is none.
Mod. And is not love an art?
Helen. Are you a fool
As well as Ovid? Love an art! No art
But taketh time and pains to learn. Love comes
With neither! Is't to hoard such grain as that
You went to college? Better stay at home,
And study homely English!
Mod. Nay, you know not
The argument.
Helen. I don't? I know it better
Than ever Ovid did! The face, the form,—
The heart,—the mind we fancy, cousin! that's
The argument! Why, cousin, you know nothing!
Suppose a lady were in love with thee,
Couldst thou by Ovid, cousin, find it out?
Couldst find it out, wert thou in love, thyself?
Could Ovid, cousin, teach thee to make love?
I could, that never read him! You begin
With melancholy; then to sadness; then
To sickness; then to dying-but not die!
She would not let thee, were she of my mind!
She'd take compassion on thee. Then for hope;
From hope to confidence; from confidence
To boldness; then you'd speak; at first entreat;
Then urge; then flout; then argue; then enforce;
Make prisoner of her hand; besiege her waist;
Threaten her lips with storming; keep thy word
And carry her! My sampler 'gainst thy Ovid!
Why, cousin, are you frighten'd, that you stand
As you were stricken dumb? The case is clear,
You are no soldier! You'll ne'er win a battle,
You care too much for blows!
Mod. You wrong me there.
At school I was the champion of my form ;
And since I went to college—
Helen. That for college!
Mod. Nay, hear me !
Helen. Well? What, since you went to college? You know what men are set down for, who boast Of their own bravery? Go on, brave cousin : What, since you went to college? Was there not One Quentin Halworth there? You know there was, And that he was your master?
Mod. He my master?
Thrice was he worsted by me!
Helen, Still was he
Mod. He allow'd I had the best! Allow'd it, mark me! nor to me alone, But twenty I could name.
Helen. And master'd you
At last! Confess it, cousin, 't is the truth!
A proctor's daughter you did both affect-
Look at me and deny it !—Of the twain
She more affected you ;-I've caught you now,
Bold cousin! Mark you! opportunity
On opportunity she gave you, sir,-
Deny it if you can!—but though to others,
When you discoursed of her, you were a flame,
To her you were a wick that would not light,
Though held in the very fire! And so he won her-
Won her, because he woo'd her like a man;
For all your cuffings, cuffing you again
With most usurious interest! Now, sir,
Protest that you are valiant!
Mod. Cousin Helen!
Helen. Well, sir?
Mod. The tale is all a forgery!
Mod. From first to last; ne'er spoke I
To a proctor's daughter, while I was at college.
Helen. Well, 'twas a scrivener's, then-or somebody's.
But what concerns it whose? Enough, you loved her!
And, shame upon you, let another take her!
Mod. Cousin, I tell you, if you'll only hear me,
I loved no woman while I was at college-
Save one, and her I fancied ere I went there.
Helen. Indeed! Now I'll retreat, if he's advancing.
Comes he not on! O what a stock's the man!
Well, cousin?
Mod. Well! What more wouldst have me say?
I think I've said enough.
Helen. And so think I.
I did but jest with you.
Shake hands! Why, cousin, do you squeeze me so?
Mod. [Letting her go.] I swear I squeezed you not.
Helen. You did not?
May I die if I did!
Helen. Why then you did not, cousin.
So let's shake hands again—[He takes her hand as before.]—0 go! and now
Read Ovid! Cousin, will you tell me one thing:
Wore lovers ruffs in master Ovid's time?
Behoved him teach them, then, to put them on;
And that you have to learn.
Why, cousin, how you blush!
I cannot give 't a set.
Hold up your head!
Plague on the ruff!
You're blushing still!
Why do you blush, dear cousin?
I'll give it up.
Mod. Nay, prithee don't-try on!
Helen. And if I do, I fear you'll think me bold.
Helen. To trust my face so near to thine.
Mod. I know not what you mean!
Helen. I'm glad you don't!
Cousin, I own right well-behaved you are,
Most marvellously well-behaved! They've bred
|