The plot has already been sketched, and a few references should make this statement clear. The lover’s rude courtship is the fruit of long campaignings and absence from court; when he is told by his friend of the strange impression he has made he speaks perfectly rationally and merely becomes confirmed in his purpose. The extravagant idea of cutting out his heart is the first sign of the strength of his passion. Yet his soliloquy:
“’Tis but to die. Dogs do it, ducks with dabbling,
Birds sing away their souls, and babies sleep ’em . . .”[165:1]
is spoken in a temper quite unlike the madman’s. His argument might even by some be considered valid: “For in the other world she is bound to have me,” he says, “Her princely word is past.” When others enter, he grows wilder, and throughout the play talks in the
most extravagant vein, more particularly to the surgeon whom he tries to persuade to cut out his heart. “Here I am, sir,” says Memnon,
“Come, look upon me, view the best way boldly;
Fear nothing, but cut home. If your hand shake, sirrah,
Or any way deface my heart i’ the cutting,
Make the least scratch upon it . . . .
. . . I’ll slice thee to the soul. . . .