But wherefore such redundancy? such waste
Of argument? One sets my soul at rest!
One obvious, and at hand, and, oh!—at heart.
So just the skies, Philander’s life so pain’d,
His heart so pure; that, or succeeding scenes
Have palms to give, or ne’er had he been born. 983
“What an old tale is this!” Lorenzo cries.—
I grant this argument is old; but truth
No years impair; and had not this been true,
Thou never hadst despised it for its age.