 | The Andrian |  |
SCENE I.
CHARINUSalone.
Is this to be believ'd, or to be told?
Can then such inbred malice live in man,
To joy in ill, and from another's woes
To draw his own delight?—Ah, is't then so?
—Yes, such there are, the meanest of mankind,
Who, from a sneaking bashfulness, at first
Dare not refuse; but when the time comes on
To make their promise good, then force perforce
Open themselves and fear: yet must deny.
Then too, oh shameless impudence, they cry,
“Who then are you? and what are you to me?
“Why should I render up my love to you?
“Faith, neighbour, charity begins at home.”
—Speak of their broken faith, they blush not, they,
Now throwing off that shame they ought to wear,
Which they before assum'd without a cause.
—What shall I do? go to him? on my wrongs
Expostulate, and throw reproaches on him?
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I shall at least embitter his delight,
And gratify my anger.
| The Andrian | |