Fal. Come forward, and be complaisant. [Pulls him again.
Alcan. That’s most proper for your Wit, Falatius.
Am. Why so angry?
Alcan. Away, thou art deceiv’d.
Am. You’ve lost your sleep, which puts you out of humour.
Alcan. He’s damn’d will lose a moment on’t for you.
Am. Who is’t that has displeas’d you?
Alcan. You have, and took my whole repose away,
And more than that, which you ne’er can restore;
I can do nothing as I did before.
When I would sleep, I cannot do’t for you,
My Eyes and Fancy do that form pursue;
And when I sleep, you revel in my Dreams,
And all my Life is nothing but extremes.
When I would tell my love, I seem most rude,
For that informs me how I am subdu’d.
Gods, you’re unjust to tyrannize o’er me,
When thousands fitter for’t than I go free.
[Ex.
Fal. Why, what the Devil has possest Alcander?
Oli. How like you this, Aminta?