 | The Merchant |  |
109
SCENE II.
Enter LYSIMACHUS and SERVANT.Lysim.
(to Servant)
Now by my troth, I'll have that old goat gelt,
That gives me so much trouble in the country.
Dem.
(behind)
Oh horrid omen! dreadful augury!
I wish my wife don't treat me like this Goat,
And act the part of that same Ape I dreamt of.
Lysim.
(to Servant.)
Go you directly to my country-house,
And see that you deliver up those rakes
Into my farmer Pistus his own hands.
Let my wife know, she is not to expect me,
As I have business keeps me here in town;
Say, I've three causes coming on to-day.
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Serv.
Nothing else, Sir?
Lysim.
Nothing.
[Exit Serv.
Dem.
(coming up)
Save you, Lysimachus!
Lysim.
Ha, Demipho!
Save you: how is't? how goes it?
Dem.
Wretchedly.
Lysim.
The Gods forbid!
Dem.
'Tis the Gods' doing.
Lysim.
What?
Dem.
I'd tell you, if I saw you were at leisure.
Lysim.
Nay, tho' I'm busy, tell me, Demipho:
I've always leisure to assist my friend.
Dem.
I know your friendly nature by experience.
—How old do I appear to you?
Lysim.
So old,
That you have one foot in the grave; quite aged;
Tottering beneath the weight of years; decrepid.
Dem.
You're blind: I am a child, Lysimachus,
A child of sev'n years old.
Lysim.
Of sev'n years old!
You're mad.
Dem.
'Tis true.
Lysim.
Oh, now I guess your meaning.
When a man reaches the last stage of life,
“Sans sense, sans taste, sans eyes, sans every thing,”
They say that he is grown a child again.
Dem.
Nay, nay, but I'm in better health than ever.
Lysim.
Well done! I'm glad on't.
Dem.
And if you knew all,
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Lysim.
Very well!
Dem.
Very ill, Sir.
Lysim.
Very ill then.
Dem.
But may I dare to tell you?
Lysim.
Boldly.
Dem.
Hear then!
Lysim.
I'm all attention.
Dem.
On this very day
I've been to school to learn the alphabet.
I know four letters.
Lysim.
What four letters?
Dem.
LOVE.
Lysim.
Love, you old fool! with that grey head, you dotard!
Dem.
Grey head, or red head, or black head, I love.
Lysim.
You mean to play upon me, Demipho.
Dem.
Cut off my head, if what I say be false:
Or, that you may be certain that I love,
Take a knife, cut my finger, or my ear,
My nose, or lip; and if I shrink, or wince,
Or feel that I am cut, Lysimachus,
I'll give you leave to kill me for my love.
Lysim.
If you have ever seen, or wish to see
The picture of a lover, this is he.
For in my mind an old, decrepid, dotard
Is but a painted sign upon a wall.
Dem.
This, I suppose, is meant to punish me.
Lysim.
I punish you?
Dem.
I don't deserve reproof.
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'Tis natural to all mankind to love:
'Tis natural to all mankind to pardon.
Upbraid me not; I love against my will.
Lysim.
I don't upbraid you.
Dem.
Nay, but do not hold me
The less in your esteem on this account.
Lysim.
Ah! heav'n forbid I should!
Dem.
Take care!
Lysim.
I will.
Dem.
But certainly?
Lysim.
You pester me.—This man
Is mad with love.—Would you aught else?
Dem.
Your servant!
Lysim.
I'm going to the Port: I've business there,
Dem.
A pleasant walk to you!
Lysim.
Farewel.
Dem.
Farewel!
[Exit Lysimachus.
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