NEMOROSO.
With what good arguments does he enforce
His mad opinions!
SALICIO.
The accustomed course
Of ingenuity awhile holds on,
When genius fails, and apprehension's gone;
Thus, though now frenzied, still a lucid vein
Runs through the dark ideas of his brain,
Having been what we knew him once.
NEMOROSO.
No more,
Praise him not to me, for my heart runs o'er
With grief to see him in so lost a strait.
ALBANIO.
I was considering what a painful state
This strange, sad exile is; for, to my mind,
Nor woods, nor oceans warred on by the wind,
Nor moated towers, nor mountains, pathless proved,
Nor others' sweet society beloved,
Cuts us asunder, but a slender wall
Of water, lucid, but preventing all
The blissful union we desire so much;
For from that surface where we all but touch
Thou never dost depart, and seemest never
Satiate with gazing, by each fond endeavour
Of becks, and smiles, and gestures, signifying
Desire of junction, duteous, but denying;
Brother, reach out thy arm, that we may shake
Hands like good friends, and for past friendship's sake,
Once more embrace! ha! mock'st thou me? dost thou
Fly from me thus? 'tis acting not, I vow,
As a friend should; I from the fountain's froth
Am dripping wet, and thou, too, art thou wroth—
Poor Sir Unfortunate? ha! ha! how swift
Thy—what is it? thy figure thou dost shift;
Ruffled, disturbed, and with a writhen face!
That this unlucky thing now should take place!
I was consoled in seeing so serene
Thy amorous image and thy smiling mien.
No happy thing with me will now endure!
NEMOROSO.
Nothing at least that will thy frenzy cure.